: It's the alignment
you play when the DM
won't let you be evil
. Gather round, folks, as I tell you a story.
My first foray into Dungeons and Dragons was as a Dwarven Fighter. While it was fun at first, the samey hack-and-slash began to get boring.
DM: Fighter, your turn.
Me: Uh, who are we fighting?
DM: Fire giants. Three of them.
Me: How close are they?
DM: Close up. You can hit them with your axe.
Me: Alright. I hit the most wounded one with my axe. (I take a few seconds to roll 3d20 for my three attacks and 3d12 for damage, first deciding on Power Attack for extra damage. Meanwhile, the group waits patiently.)
Consider this repetitive conversation happening in every single damn melee of the adventure, and it's understandable that the DM decides to take next week's game off as a player. Another player is elected to DM this time, while the ex-DM settles into his favoured role as a wizard. Perhaps a better DM could have been chosen - remembering, of course, that his character was previously a Chaotic Neutral Necromancer who secretly worshipped Nerull, god of Death.
The players are dragged away from their previous roles and choose a different class than before. My fighter is replaced by a bard, our cleric becomes a fighter, and the druid...
The druid initially elected to remain a druid. Much coaxing and attacking with empty coca-cola bottles later, he gives in to his new role as a rogue, albeit begrudgingly. (It's an interesting side-note that the druid never used any of his rogue skills, and has never played anything but a druid since.)
Back to the Chaotic Necromancer's campaign, as it's now referred to, and it's obvious that this adventure is very different to the last one. Less planned, less finesse... more killing of city guards and innocent villagers. My neutral good elven bard finds it difficult to follow these people in their slaughter of all these humans, until they eventually convince me that it's somehow actually an evil town, full of evil peoples. I join in, realising how rubbish a bard really is in an adventure without roleplaying - not to mention trying to attack skeletons with a piercing weapon like the rapier.
Meanwhile, our pissed-off rogue has decided that his character, again chaotic neutral, is filling a house with pints of oil, calling for help and leaping out the window. After the guards and helpful villagers run in to assist, our barbarian holds the door shut and our wizard casts Burning Hands into the building.
The supposedly chaotic neutral rogue laughs evilly as the villagers burn to their collectively untimely deaths. He takes a chew of his own flesh, and the party leaves to go kill some more stuff for experience.