I once played a centuries-spanning V:tM game where my freshly awakened, elder setite ended up setting up his haven in a hidden subbasement below a large Sorority house at the local University (this was supposed to be in the 1960s).  He used his high level dominate to make his nocturnal feedings seem like vivid erotic dreams for all involved, so the residents didn't want to leave.  He also manipulated the Sorority heads, so that within a few years, all of the supposedly fake rituals for pledges and everything else, were actual rituals worshiping Set, and providing blood for my character.

By the modern nights, he had drawn the attention of a well known vampire hunter, and using his (unknown to the hunter) connections in the college community, he tracked down the hunter's high school age daughter and embraced her, then used her to kill him.  slowly.

For a player that is almost always a Paladin type character, this wholly evil Setite stands out as a really fun diversion from my normal characters.

Make a gnome wizard type. Return to the Elemental Evil I think?

Got to 1st area and was eaten by a giant toad. Didn't like me so he spit me out. Priceless.

(DnD 3.5)

Was in a Wheel of Time game.

Guy made a warrior to be bound to the Dragon Reborn.

Later on that night, the Dragon was attacked by Lanfear. The warder got put into a Hardend Air wall and was balefire. No save since can't move.

That really sucks!

(WoT 3.5)
This message was last edited by the user at 23:32, Wed 19 Nov 2014.

D&D 4e

My group tried to ambush a few goblins who were on guard duty before they could raise an alarm. They managed to take out one of the guards instantly with a well placed shot. The second one they wound up knocking to the ground where the goliath avenger and dragonborn warder slashed at him for two rounds with swords missing. The gnome bard then walked up stomped on the goblin's head said "That's how you do it." Then proceeded to try and get a nearby table knocked over for the reinforcements that they could hear coming.

I'm still trying to take the gnome out he just won't drop to 0 HP.

I played in a very long term W:tA game where the St was very good at mixing deadly seriousness with comedy.  At one point, after a months long expedition through the umbra to avenge our pack alpha's wife and son who were killed by Black Spiral Dancers (it was an honestly sad event in a game, since the players were not expecting it at all, and since the marriage and child came during the game) We resettled our pack in California.
We eventually got deeply entrenched in a war with the local vampires, and had several encounters with who we thought were a group of young hunters.  The game had been so serious for so long, that it took a few weeks worth of sessions for it to dawn on us that it was Buffy the vampire slayer and her group.  None of us were expecting that, and it was a total departure from the earlier portion of the game.

Our pack ended up taking in Oz as a newly changed werewolf, and my character (who was a high school age Wendigo) married buffy's sister (a very long story).  Definitely the most unique ending to a long campaign I've ever been a part of.

I was in a Star Wars game years and years ago, where one of the players had a mercenary character...she took great delight in going to the nearest spacer bar, anywhere we went, and getting guys to fight over her...

She also had the uncanny knack of being completely unable to hit someone with a blaster, until she'd been injured.  Then she could part the hairs on a fly's head with a blaster and hit everything she shot at.  My character, in the same game, apparently had a knack for being able to take down any target with one shot, if the fate of the party hinged on it.  If he was just shooting to be malicious or for practice?  He was good, but not great.  It got to the point where we joked that if the fate of the entire group rested on a single shot, he was the character everyone wanted to take that shot.

He also ended up collecting the Imperial bounty on himself, but that's a REALLY long story...

There was the particularly funny story about this group I was in in college.  There was a guy who was playing a fighter named Bob.  Bob was a good fighter, but Bob really, really wanted to be a spellcaster.  Bob was about as smart as a box of rocks, so that was never really going to happen.

In the course of going through a dungeon-like tower, from the bottom to the top.  During this dungeon crawl, Bob acquired a necklace of fireballs, of which he was very proud.

Then we got to a chamber at the top of the tower.  We opened the door.  Inside were a dozen huge crystals which began to shatter, each one revealing a minotaur.  The rest of us were busy trying not to fill our pants, most of our spells and hit points exhausted.

Bob ripped off his entire necklace and tossed it into the room and slammed the door shut.  There were a series of thunderous explosions and screams.  A few moments later, Bob opened the door.  One scorched minotaur remained standing, the rest charred and dead.  Bob dashed in and slew the one remaining minotaur with a single stroke of his sword.

Then he turned back to the rest of us with a huge grin on his face and said simply:

"Bob Spellcaster."

Although I can laugh at this today, it was not funny back when it happened.

At age 11, I joined my older brother's D&D group.  Naturally, I was expecting light hearted, good time adventure, just like the sort of stories I was reading at that age.  But what adolescent boy isn't going to torture his kid sister when presented with the opportunity?

From an early age, I absolutely loved the pegasus.  So naturally once I started playing D&D, I really wanted to find one.   And in my brother's game, I did.

It was dead.

At first I was certain he was joking, but no!  This was for real.  It was most graphically described for us.   Broken feathers lying all about the ground.  A crushing head wound.  Eyes congealing and bulging out.   I was too shocked to do anything, but one of the guys (our druid/ranger, naturally) suggested we give the poor creature a proper burial.

But, oh no.  An avatar of my character's goddess(Hecate) manifests, and informs us that this ground is unsanctified.  And will never do.   And tasks us to transport the corpse to a properly sanctified burial site.

Naturally, the region we must travel is hilly, and so this is rough, slow going, dragging along the deceased, in a makeshift cart.  For some reason, no matter where my character is, the pegasus seems to be looking at her.   With pleading, pained, eyes.  My brother did these oh so well --  what afterward would be known as his "dead pegasus eyes."  I actually whimpered and cried a bit over this bit which, for some reason, was funny to some of the guys.

Anyway, after several annoying, wandering monster type encounters, (two of which mangled the corpse even more) we finally get clear of the hilly region, and reach the burial site.    This is good because, well, you can imagine what the pegasus corpse smells like, by this time.

Unfortunately, this attractes the attention of an extra large, extra hungry, carrion crawler.  "Godzilla" proves too much for us to deal with...and, in order to escape, we have to let it eat the pegasus.    Naturally, my goddess is displeased by this result, and so my character gets a -1 on everything for the next week.     The game pretty much ended there.

Aghast, outraged, aggrieved, I tried to cite different books, the kind we all read and loved, and put it to my brother like "so where's the happy ending??"   To which he shrugged indifferently, and said:

"My game's are a little more like real life."

Well, thank god for that lesson!   Now, whenever I come across an animal carcass in real life, I call the SPCA, rather than intervene myself.  And I don't listen to any deity.  Because I'm an an atheist.

But the legacy of the dead pegasus remained with us for years afterward.   Two of the guys later formed a garage band, and called themselves Dead Pegasus, for about three weeks.   Until they became Bitter Wombat.

One of my favorite D&D moments...

I was the DM, playing with my friends and younger brother in high school/junior high.  They walk into a cave, I describe the smell of carrion, and the beast who's apparently living in it...

And my younger brother pipes up, bright and bold, "I know what that is...it's an orgy!"  (Now, granted, we were all pretty young...but not THAT young.  He realized his bout of verbal dyslexia the moment he said it, and we all started laughing hysterically.  For years after that, none of us, as players, could encounter an ogre without snickering at the memory...)

Deadlands: Reoladed

So I have this odd character in a long-running game, basically a steampunk robot powered by a trapped greater spirit. 95% of the time, it has the personality of a cheerful, slightly autistic six-year-old combat and the combat capacity of a damp tissue. The other 5% of the time, when the spirit's restraints are loosened by high ambient magic/electricity or a surge of rage, it is a screaming insane angel of vengeance, known to take down foes at a single blow.

Enter a new character at the time, a super-grim antiheroic gunslinger type. Grudgingly convinced into helping the town by investigating dark goings-on at the local masonic lodge, he wasn't all that happy about the clank tagging along, nor the random chicken it had found and deputised (long story).

A nasty basement to the place was found under a secret hatch; the clank got volunteered to go down there and started poking about in the dark, Detecting Arcana whilst everyone else knelt by the trapdoor and listened. The gunslinger decided he didn't like how Deputy Chicken was looking at him, and since no-one was looking, bopped the chicken down the hole as well. The presence of a living thing in the cellar caused animate hands to attack, causing much dismay amongst the posse and nearly strangling Deputy Chicken.

Hands dispatched, the others lit up a lantern and the gunslinger came down. Deputy Chicken remembered being pushed, and pecked his boot in chargrin. Thinking nothing of it, the gunslinger simply punted the chicken across the room. In full view of the clank (aggressive as a damp tissue, remember?).

The angel...took over. The gunslinger did in fact survive thanks to the use of several fate chips and some urgent NPC intervention, but has never kicked another fowl or small animal again.

...and now when the group wants to refer to someone accidentally causing a badass  barely tolerating them to go berserk, it is known as "kicking the chicken".


There was also the time the Texas Ranger told the clank to be helpful and "fetch things", and left the area without telling it to stop. It did indeed gather "things", filling the local church with anything and everything that could be lifted, including an old bath, half a sign, a bunch of rocks, a garden gnome etc. etc. After some raises on its Strength and untrained Stealth rolls, it even managed to "fetch" the rocking chair off a porch, sleeping granny included.

Played a game once:

Wheel of Time:
First character went nuts. He believed he was the Dragon. When it came down to grabbing Callador, he did just that. Big boom = no more PC. Was fun.

I knew someone who was the actual Dragon Reborn in the game. He got all leveled to 20. Got so suck of going mad, when we started a new game he went with a Ogier Armsman! lol!

AD&D

many, many years ago we had just finished fighting a troll and the thief said he would search the body. The Gm told him there was a big fur covered pouch hanging from the front of the dead troll's belt.

The thief said he would cut it open with his knife and inside he found two hard smooth egg shaped objects which the thief promptly pocketed.

The GM then let the rest of the party in on the little joke but we didn't have the heart to tell the thief it and he spent the rest of the adventure carrying two troll testicles in his bag

The 1st person you judge in dragon age: inquisition as leader of the inquisition

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Barbarian chief, father of the son you slain, was captured throwing goats at your keep. As per there tradtion.

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In reply to jamat (msg # 15):

Reminds me of another friend's character...homebrewed fantasy setting and system, but that has nothing to do with the story...

He was playing a mage...a very competent, very egotistical mage, who was not above collecting trophies from people he'd defeated.  So, after one battle, he collected the 'scrying stones' (crystal balls) from his enemy's stronghold.

When, later in the game, they happened to encounter each other again, he (the player) went to great lengths to have his character make a show of 'fondling' and 'stroking' the crystals, in front of said enemy...so much so that one of the other characters told him at one point to stop playing with his balls...

 Epic and funny as hell , it was a ww2 Scion game party consisted of a Child of Coyote , a child of the Morrigan , and a child of Horus I believe there may have been one more but of the 3 rotating players I forget which it was .


anyway the heroes have come across a Nazi base complete with towers and walls tanks , it was almost a fortified town , the Child of the Morrigan was a Sniper and pointman he used his phase cloak to turn completely invisible and slip into the camp and with a series of very good rolls managed to block the barrels of all 5 Panzers in the camp while the other two positioned themselves and the Egyptians 15 Fighting mummies { an Egyptian variant of the Spartoi } loading them down with grenades and any explosives they had they waited for the snipers signal before having the suicide spartoi rushed the Security towers all but 2 reached their targets and detonated bringing them down the tanks rolled out as the Egyptian Respawns his minions and as each tried to fire they basically blew themselves up .

 The enemy camp was in chaos and as the Spartoi and the other two Scions began cutting down Soldiers , soon causing the survivors into a full rout and retreat the Sniper who's gun can change into any firearm changes it into a Submachine gun and goes to kick in the door of the camp commander opening fire as he does....and promptly shoots his own damn foot off right as he falls to the ground right at the feet of an Undead giant { a corpse demon from the ragnarok book } , the party had no idea where he'd gone until he came flying through a wall with the Comander strolling out behind him through the hole with a laugh , the ensueing fight took the as to now untouched Scions nearly an hour of grueling savage hand to hand and run and gun through the camp . though in the end bloody and exhausted they took the day and the camp

It was just a simple sentence that turned the morale tide during a battle.

Pathfinder, mid-level, and we'd been routinely having our hats handed to us by creatures with various immunities. I was playing an oracle, and I had access to some nice AoE's, but much of our party was melee, and that limited my options.

The knife-weilder gets nearly surrounded by hordes of beasties that are immune to his stabbing. I'm back to back with him.

On my initiative round, I tell the GM:

'I touch Mike's character and cast 'Spell Immunity: Flame Strike.''

The entire party Ooooh'd, and the GM knew that the next round, his hordes were going to be toast (did I mention I could empower flame strike at that point?)

Yeah, it was nice to essentially do a little 'drum roll' to my annihilation of the enemy troops. :)

What does "Spell Immunity: Flame Strike" do, then? It sounds like it just makes people immune to fire, which doesn't sound like it'd be useful in that particular situation when presumably dealing fire damage would've been better?

Glorious though I'm sure many of these occasions are, I personally haven't understood why for a lot of them because they involve game systems (and therefore shorthand expressions) that I'm not familiar with :(.

I think the knife wielding PC the spellcaster was fighting alongside would disagree.

Makes the person touched immune to all spell effects of a chosen spell. Doesn't hurt them at all. Def agree with Eggy. Nice played, Crazy.

In reply to Ameena (msg # 20):

I've never played Pathfinder and I didn't look up that spell, but CrazyIvan777 explained the scene well enough for me to get it. Ivan touched his party member/friend and cast immunity upon him because, on the next turn, he was going to roast a lot of people. (I don't know if beasties are people.) Ivan didn't want his friend caught in the fire. He didn't need to cast immunity on himself because it was his own spell. That's how it read to me.
This message was last edited by the user at 14:19, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

We were playing our first 3rd Edition D&D game, after having moved from 2E, and I was playing a halfling martial artist type character. We are surrounded by Lizardmen (I refuse to call them lizardfolk) and our healer and man-at-arms are injured. Its time for old Twigleaf to come in and save the party, once again.

We back ourselves up to a portcullis, beyond it lies a lever which we hope opens it up so we can escape. I turn to the DM and say "I'm aiming for that lever with my throwing knife," as typical DM Mike fashion he laughs evilly "Your going to die in this situation, and there is no way in oranges that you are going to hit that lever its AC 30."

I desperately roll the dice as my party looks on, saying "You can do it bro!" And the die comes up a natural 20. With all my bonuses for throwing things, It comes up a total of 33. And I'm like "whoah 33, is that good?" that DM was always trying to kill off twigleaf ever since then. Oh right and we did escape.

As a sidenote, as a group we were always going into the dungeons of that DMs from the exit instead of the entrance. Why fight through all those minions when you can just find the bad guys secret door and kill him in his bedroom?
This message was last edited by the user at 14:19, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

In reply to Ameena (msg # 20):

It made his friend immune to the Flame Strike (area effect clerical fiery smite from the Heavens) that he caster was about to call down upon the group of attackers with the friend in the midst of them. The reference to empoered flame strike meant that this priest had trained himself to make his spell more potent than it normally is, applying metamagic to the basic spell matrix.

That is what I said, Manticore. But yeah, got the jist :)

Undeadbob:
Priceless. Makes sense :) I would think there'd be a ton of baddies before that though and it would be 'walled off' :)

Nice on the throw. Gotta love nat 20's.

Wheel of Time (D20)
I was in a game for awhile. Our wolfbrother could sense Madness (Something the DM allowed him to be be able to do with Scent). The Dragon was with the group and he keeped acting weird. The wolfbrother was getting skittish with him. After awhile, he realized the Dragon has no scent. Nothing. No madness. He was a void.

After discusing it with us when the "Dragon" was not present, he decided to draw on him with a dagger and see what he would get. As soon as he did, the "Dragon" dropped his cover and his facial shield (Well played). It was a Forsaken which was killed.

The real Dragon we found in his hideaway, locked up and shielded. Keep in mind it was the person's player playing along as the Forsaken but gave us clues with the DM's consent :)
This message was last edited by the user at 14:37, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

Oh there was, but like I said our party had a knack for finding secret doors,a nd entering the dungeon backwards lol. To get to the gate was a huge battle, and its why our fighter (Maximus) nearly died. That DM really believed in the art of escalation, "well you guys cut through that troop of monsters far to quickly, time for a random patrol to check that hallway."

He was a great, if evil, DM. Before joining that group (started with 2E went to 3.5E), I actually disliked D&D. But he used allot of really cool theories on dungeon ecology, and he decided which pathways within a given area had what patrolling monsters. Allot of what he did taught me how to become a better GM, and to really put myself in the shoes of enemies.

He eventually killed that group by using kobalds armed steel wire. We were passing through a forest and they were within the trees, taking us out one by one. After the battle, and while we were making new characters, I had asked him how those kobalds were so tough. And he said "Oh well in 3rd edition monsters can have classes, so I made them the same level as you guys. They were all monks."

I've never trusted a kobald since then.

You don't need class levels to make kobolds nasty as all heck.

Google "Tucker's kobolds." The tribe who, despite having standard 2nd ed. AD&D stats, were more feared than giant flaming demons.

There's also this situation:
http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0568.html
This message was last edited by the user at 15:14, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

Ah yeah I'v read about Tucker's Kobolds before - how to make a normally not-too-threatening enemy the bane of the party's existence >:).

There was a pretty funny incident in a tabletop Dark Heresy game I was in once. So we'd been after this gang/cult who'd been using a special kind of mutagenic drug on people to turn them into, well, mutants, and we'd found a whole massive warehouse-type building of basically unarmed people who were to be experimented on by this cult (or something like that). So we had to destroy them all. I was playing a Psyker (psychic-powered person and basically the Warhammer 40k equivalent of a spellcaster) but I was kind of terrible at it and spent the entire combat outside the warehouse, round the other side from everyone else, trying to search some kind of small aircraft which was very rusty and in which I kept falling over and not being able to get up due to my realy crappy physical skills.

Meanwhile, everyone else was kicking bottom over in the warehouse. First of all, they chucked a load of hallucinogenic grenades in there so the place was full of gas. The GM had drawn a diagram showing the areas in the building which had been affected, drawing circles to depict each one and rolling for (or getting the thrower to roll for (the specific effect of each grenade. So there was one spot in the middle where basically every grenade's effect overlapped and it was decided that there was just one guy in the middle totally freaking out because he was now totally paranoid, trying to hide but thinking his hands were too big, and that he could fly, and that there were bugs crawling all over him, and probably some more stuff too :D.

The various party members were immune to all this due to having appropriate respiratory gear. I think the Guardsman (heavy-duty gunner guy) fired a few shots. The Scum (rogueish class, he had many many different types of pistol about his person) had gone inside and had started shooting people. The Cleric (a "purge the heretics with cleansing fire" kind of character), who was stood in the doorway, then fired his Heavy Flamer (yes, a flamethrower, basically :)) into the warehouse. Then the GM mentioned that the gas was flammable. Fortunately the Scum passed his rather heavily-penalised (due to various "you can't avoid the cleansing fire"-type talents the Cleric had taken) Dodge roll and managed to get out without any trouble. There were actually a couple of survivors, even if they didn't survive for very long once the group went in to make sure no-one had survived ;).