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What is one of your best memory of a RPG game you played.

One of the funniest was a WFRP game another player was swinging around a warhammer, the GM said if we rolled 90+ we hit the boat we were on.
He rolled 90+ three times in a row plus one of the rolling a six for damage meaning the exploding dice with more damage to be rolled a few times...
We called him boat smasher after that..

I was once playing a Steampunk game set in what was effectively an alternate world Russian Revoultion, playing a Police officer.

The leader of our glorious nation got assassinated and their was a coup in the capital and our heroic band of misfit revoultionaries went to investigate and save the day. Much to our GM's suprise, not only did we terminate the coup and save the government [which was expected] but my character rallied the masses and the support of parts of the old government, and wound up the new dictator of the country. The game then proceeded to veer of in another direction entirely as I proceeded to begin a mad quest to reuinite the nation and lead us forth on the glorious peoples revoultion, which included genociding some of our neighbours.

Those were good times. Particularly given my character was paranoid, obessive and unpredictable. I basically ended up playing a chess playing version of Stalin, which caused no small amount of friction within the party...

A recent highlight is my nearly-dead Sorcerer in D&D very angrily shouting down a rather irate dragon that was about to go Full Smaug on a nearby city. A rant that began with 'Right, you big ugly , I'm going to do you the credit of assuming you can understand me...' and ended with a Nat 20 on an Intimidation check.

Not entirely sure what I was thinking when I decided that 5HP and AC15 put me in any sort of position to be swearing profusely at a dragon. I guess I reached the conclusion that he'd respond better to a show of strength and aggression than a polite 'excuse me, please don't burn that city down, ta'... Likewise, pretty sure if that check hadn't been the highest it could be I'd just have been torn to shreds next round before it got back to levelling said city. Such an awesome moment when it worked, though, as it saved the city, saved the also-nearly-dead party and got us a dragon on our side when we went to smash up a cult of the Chained Oblivion the week after...

Said dragon then returned the favour by rescuing my PC from an airship full of military-trained sorcerers (basically evil Jedi Knights) and their master... I'm not in that campaign for the time being due to university, but when I go back I'm going to really dig into that relationship, as the dragon and my PC actually have very similar pasts and outlooks on the world, so the two working together will be a real interesting thing to play around with.

DMing a campaign for DH 1st edition the acolytes were investigating mysterious disappearances in a hive city. The group found some clues that led to the underhive and eventually found themselves in a waste recycling center looking over a bunch of Genestealer cultists having a ceremony in an empty pool. The party's psyker decided he was going to make himself invisible and open the valve to flood the pool and kill the cultists. He then proceeded to botch his roll and began to shock everyone in a 30m radius which the cultists found mildly annoying.

Gunfire started ringing out, the psyker and another party member took cover near the entrance and gave suppressing fire for the other two party members who went to open the valve. While this was going on, a Genestealer snuck up on the psyker and charged him. Everyone expected the psyker to be turned into minced meat but the xenos rolled a 100 on his WS test. I rolled again to see how bad the failure should be and rolled another 100, so the Genestealer burst into the room charged right past the psyker and embedded it's talons in the wall. The psyker saw this as a gift from the Emperor and proceeded to wail on the Genestealer with an axe, had some pretty incredible Righteous Fury rolls and one shot the Genestealer.

So, I am running my first game playtesting converting DnD to run on the unisystem like.... 10 years ago.

I tell my players to try to break the game. It's a play test. Go nuts. So they do. Mechanically everything holds up well. It works. Little to nothing is overpowered or underpowered or whatever. BUT! in character creation they all decided to take mental problems... some of them multiple. Paranoia was not uncommon. I would say half the party had it. Delusions came up twice. One player made a Half Ork Bard Barbarian who had dependecy issues, a fear of rejection, and paranoia. He knew what the party was doing was wrong, but he went along with it because he didn't want to be left out/just wanted them to like him.

So for the first game I made a tight little single session adventure. I was relatively new to DMing and was not prepared AT ALL for the crazy these people were about to put down on the table. They come into a town and stumble on a gnome being laughed out of the local inn yelling in to swear his vengeance. The paranoid charismaless Paladin decides he's evil and almost smites him there on the spot. He IS the villain of this game but they were not supposed to be killing him before he's said more then 2 words. I had to have another NPC intervene. I send in the next NPC on my list, the mother of a girl (Maggie) thats gone missing. "He's harmless!" the mother swears. "It's all bluster. The town treats him like a joke. Thinks hes a wizard or something but he's never done anything."

I turn the party away and they eventually get wind of the quest. Maggies gone missing. Nobody knows where to or why. The group investigates and pretty quickly settle on their old paranoia and bypass all the mystery and go straight to the gnomes house. They find a small alchemy lab and the Rogue just starts drinking things. Anything he can find. They find a trap door leading into a basement lab where the Gnome has built a golem. He found a book on golem creation but it was incomplete. He used Maggie to fill in the blanks intending to use it to get revenge on the town. The big bad fight ensues. Maggies new golem limbs are covered in rough steal. Rods jut out of her body propping her head up. Her skin is stretched and riveted onto the bits of the golem where pieces of her have been replaced with the monster he made. One of her hands launches out with destructive force on a chain. The next round it recoils back in and the force of the hand snapping back in place jerks the arm up, which cracks bones sickeningly and then snaps them back into place when the weight of the limb slams it back down. It's gross and neat and the party really enjoys the whole fight.

Then they win, and the very first paranoid thought is that Maggie's own mother told them the gnome didn't do it. That means the Mother was in on it. The whole TOWN was in on it. (Except the inn keeper. He made them a sandwich which was good and no man who makes a sandwich that good can be evil they decide). As they come back into the town square the Bard/Barbarian begins a battle song beating on his drums. The towns folk come out of their homes to see what is going on. They are woefully unprepared as the party turn their weapons on the towns folk. Men and women are cut down with equal ferocity. Children who weep for their parents must be evil.... why would good children weep for evil people? They kill their way across the entire town and more or less kidnap the innkeeper. Praising him and telling him he can come with them and be their cook. (He agrees to save his own life).

After the session we are all sitting around laughing and talking about how off the rails that all went. Feedback on the game mechanics and all that. One player has been silent though, the Half-ork Bard/Barbarian. ... Then he looks up and in a brief moment of silence he says "I wrote a poem."

We all die laughing.

The poem he wrote has been saved all these years. This is that poem.

"Maggie, it was not your fault.
Mother's milk is so sour.
Weep Maggie, poor innocence.
Everything is lost.
I hurt.
We hurt.
I am sorry I tore off parts of you.
But you aren't you.
Poor Maggie."



In the second game a Dwarf cleric did some stuff and he wrote a second poem.

"Holy Fire burns with my soul.
Benediction has turned my hatred against itself.
No pain can turn from the course.
A mighty midget crusade for truth.
His hammer is stout, his legs are crooked.
His detect evil blowed up the wicked"

I fething loved those games.

@Lance845- Perhaps no better definition of Murder Hobos has been written than that story.

My best moments are actually a connected string of rolls which should never have gone the way they did. They completely shaped how my character grew into a wacky design that just made complete sense within context, but out of context was a complete WTH?

We are playing Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay by FFG. The beginner adventure involves some cultists at a noble's manor poisoning everyone with a plant based sedative so they can complete a ritual to summon a daemon. Our party had figured out there was going to be something bad in 1 of the two entree options at dinner.

During the dinner, my Ogre named Kromaw Dwarfeater chooses to eat the beef(which was what was being dosed). I figure, hey Ogres have major resistance to any consumed poison. Despite the check being silly easy, I somehow fail. Not by much, so I don't completely pass out. But its enough to actually mess with my performance in the following combat.

During said combat with the cultists on the roof, the whip out some cursed book. Everybody has to take checks to avoid insanity. Again, my Ogre is unlikely to fail. But thanks to the poison, I do. And gain the permanent Paranoia insanity!

So now my Ogre is extremely paranoid about "the chaos peoples poisonin da food!" Which inspires him to take the Witchhunter career as his 2nd career. Oh, but Witchhunter is an advanced career with 2 requirements. 1) Human Only 2) You must have completed the Zealot career OR have a permanent Insanity!. But ho, Ogres are allowed to take any Human or Dwarf career, and I have a permanent insanity! So its all perfectly legal.

Thus began the adventures of Kromaw Dwarfeater the Witchhunter of Ubersreik. Which involved putting a poor halfling tavernkeep on trial for drugging an innocent trader and selling him to some Hillbillies. A fact which was only unearthed when Kromaw passed an extremely hard perception check to notice she was growing the same herb that was used by the cultists at the manor(which is an extremely common medicinal herb in the Empire btw). Later on, we tracked down the Hillbillies who she sold the trader to, who had fed him to a beastmen herd as part of a means of appeasing them to not attack the town of Stromdorf. We eventually stole the Stormstone the Brayherd was using as part of their leader's source of power, during which Kromaw challenged the Gor chief to single combat as a distraction. They hillbillies fled after we found out, but were later tracked down and "cooked at the stake", along with the halfling tavernkeep.

Many other adventures have followed, and may continue to follow.

In high school we played D&D and some Star Frontiers. We were all very big into the character creation part of the games. One day I was invited to a game of Gamma World and the GM just handed me a pre-gen shark-man to play. So not only did I not know the game's rules I had no idea about my character except he was a shark-guy with some cool-sounding abilities that I didn't understand.

Our party (about 5 or 6 players) was exploring a desert ruin. The GM was a young 20-something with a gift for description as we prowled along in some underground building sections with little to no light. We faced off against a giant scorpion or was it a spider?

It didn't matter, we were all clicking as a group and the guys who regularly played were there with cool suggestions about use this power, don't forget you have a thus-and-so weapon, you get to re-roll because of that awesome rule, etc. Again, the GM made it so immersive that the time we were playing just flew by.

Never got to play with that group again but the experience colored my perception of Gamma World. I've tried ever since then to pick up the most recent copy even though I don't RPG any more.

While I played very little of it, some of my most memorable *playing* moments were in Vampire: The Masquerade.

I recall few details, but my character’s preferred weapon was a shotgun that fired (burning) magnesium shot. He was very good at chemistry, worked at a chemical warehouse. GM allowed my weapon to work as aggreivated damage (hard to resist) but I had to take a fear check every time I used it (vampires fear fire) so despite being relatively easy checks to pass, I probably failed half of the checks I had to make? So I usually aced a chump in one shot... but then ran away and hid for the rest of the fight.

That character also at one point had a typical pistol. We encountered some kind of golem or zombie bouncer, but it was huge. It was supposed to be a boss fight. Knowing my character would likely run away from the boss fight if I used my flame-thrower-shotgun, I decided to try talking my way past, and blew it. I was close, within arms’ reach of the thing. It basically told me it was going to crush me now...

“Wait!” Cried my character, cowering and raising one hand to ward what could very well be a fatal blow... (ooc: is my cowering causing the creature to pause in disgust? *yes*)

Ok, I’ll take priority, pop a cap in it’s knee, and run away.

*What? You know regular guns do dick-all damage to this type of monster, right?*

Yeah, but I might get lucky and slow it down so I can get away. Is this a surprise attack?

*I suppose, he did drop his guard when you started crying your eyes out, begging for mercy.*

Sweet, makes attack roll... super, mega, unbelievably critical success. Despite the boss taking half damage from bullets, and being stupendously tough... I one-shot it. I can’t remember how many d10’s came up 10, that generated more 10’s, making more 10’s... but the DM decided that for the sake of not wasting the encounter he was going to cap the damage at 1/3 of its life, but I had somehow amputated the creature at the knee, so my running away was a guaranteed success.

I also wound up captured by werewolf police. The game was set in our town, so when I was being brought back in the Squad Car to the police station I managed to free myself from the handcuffs, but couldn’t kick my way out of the windows!

I wound up pushing the metal grille into the front section, manage to wrestle the two werewolves out of the (moving) car. They chased me, caught up, and got themselves back into the car.

[What was fun, was us tracking the progress through known streets in our town. When I realized I wasn’t going to get away from them...]

* The wolves are both back in the car, wrestling for control and trying to subdue you *

Ok, we’re at Harris and King street, headed for the highway, right?

*yup*

About 4 rounds until we’re at the highway?

*yup*

Perfect. I have a set of handcuffs, I’m going to cuff the Wolf to the steering wheel. (Rolls, success).

We wrestle, I take damage.

Round 2, I’m going to try to take a set of cuffs from Wolf 2, and cuff him to something in the car.

*Ok, tough to do that but roll*

(I roll, success).

*What are you doing?*

Round 3, right?

*Yeah*

We should be right near the Petro-Can (gas station) on Canterbury, yeah?

*Ok...*

I’m going to crash the car into the pumps.

*shocked silence* *You will probably die in the explosion*

I’m not cuffed to the car, so I’m going to jump out at the last second.

*shakes head* *make your driving roll...*

Tee-hee, like, 5 successes.

*Ok. The explosion does... lots of damage. The wolves survive the initial but (rolls dice) are stuck in the burning wreckage. You take (rolls dice) 1 damage!?! From the explosion, but you’re also on fire.*

I stop drop and roll, (rolls dice) critically failing my fire fear check with minus 3 successes.

* Really? Your character should really stop playing with fire. He runs off, and the wolves (rolls dice) both manage to fail to break free from the cuffs, again, so they take (rolls dice - exasperated sigh) they burn to death in the cruiser. Your character hides in his apartment for 3 days in fear of the flames...*

Yeah, I got a few stories to share.

1: The Five-Man Bow Trapeze

I was part of an eight-player player game back in Uni. DM was running “homebrewed” DnD 4th. Guy was known as a massive blowhard and generally poor DM. No one really had fun at his tables; number crunchers had no challenge in his dungeon of the week, while roleplayers had no opportunity to actually play characters. I'm playing an Elven Ranger with a penchant for trickshots in combat. I'm near the bottom of the stack one combat, when the following conversation breaks out:

Half-Orc Barb: I'll attack the skeleton.

Human Rogue: Oh, I wanna assist.

DM: Okay, roll and add your scores together.

Me: You... know that isn't how assist rolls work, right?

A few others back me up, but DM shuts us down:

DM: It's my homebrew and I say it does.

Combat continues. Most of the attacks miss, as the DM had a nasty habit of throwing things at us with an AC too high to hit with a mere D20+skill roll.You have a +3 to hit? Here's a creature with an AC of 26! Anyway, my turn comes around.

Me: I'm going to attack Jimmy the skeleton. Yo, bard, wanna assist?

Bard: Yeah, sure.

DM: No, you have to be able to physically assist him and you can't.

The rest of the table shares a look. We halfway expected this – he'd never really liked me as a player...

Bard: Alright, I'll play an inspirational song.

Gnome Rogue: Hey, Liquid, I'll pass you an arrow.

Half-Orc: I'll pull the bowstring back.

Human Rogue: I'll load the arrow.

Me: And I'm aiming the bow. So that's 5D20+ ranged skills? Oh, and I'm using my two shot power, so I'll be making an attack against Boney Joe over there too.

It wasn't about the number, Dakka, but his face. Sure, he could of stopped it. But we probably would have walked. Why did we do it? Because he refused to put in any proper efforts to his games. We asked nicely; we offered to guide him, to give him advice. He was too proud to take it. Sometimes, ya gotta take the low road. It definitely makes for a better story.

Nicer story maybe, eh? This is one I was running.

2: The Jackknife.

I'm running a homebrew (a real one, D10 roll-under, with skills adding perks in certain situations). The party are adventurers on a fantasy planet, where the idea of naval voyage has only just been discovered. Magic is powerful, but rare. The Continent's king has sent them out as “privateers”, to explore distant lands and report back to him.

As a GM, I have a bit of a reputation in my group for running campaigns made of shades of grey. Moral choices, shifting allegiances, political intrigue – this was not one of them. Apparently, our crew's captain never got that memo.

The party return to port after sailing around a bit. They'd managed to blow a whole load of gold and made the bill payable to the King himself. As they sail into port, they see the king, surrounded by his elite guard, waiting for them. They disembark, and he informs them that he got the bill. They need to get themselves together and not spend his money again.

Meanwhile, he's taking some of their crew in order to start a fleet. He needs people experienced at sea to head his new ships. With that, he departs. The party weighs anchor again. The mood isn't great at having their wrist slapped, but hey, whatever, right?

Right?

Cap'n announces: “Guys, we're defecting to Bel'Rus!”

Cue stunned expressions. The players largely fall in, because he's the captain. I'm as shocked as anyone else. Bel'Rus has been built up as the big baddies of the setting. It's a bit like Luke defecting to the Empire here.

So off the party sail. Some of the NPCs manage to escape back to the continent, as they'd rather not become enemies of the state and so on. Some of the rest are re-tasked as double agents, to keep an eye on what is currently the most powerful naval unit on the planet from inside. The party make it to Bel'Rus, who predictably play them like a fiddle.

The finale of the campaign sees the party discover they've been played and that The Continent have sent everything they can to end the madness. The party have a heroic last stand, but are ultimately defeated and exiled.

Despite “losing”, everyone really enjoyed it.

Me: Honestly, you know where everything went wrong for you? When you decided to defect. Like, why? What's up with that?

Captain's player: I thought we were meant to defect then, when he took our guys. I thought this was political intrigue like you usually do!

I swear, the emphasis really was on travelling and exploring the world...

I have had a great time with Savage Worlds Rifts games that my buddy is GMing.

First of all, I play the group's only Glitterboy pilot, which means I am 10 feet tall, nearly indestructible to small arms and wield one of the deadliest weapons in the game, the Boomgun. A railgun so large that it can only be wielded by Glitterboys, and even then they have to spend a turn shooting special foot-mounted anchors into the ground to not fly 2D6 backwards from the recoil. It also has a max range of 1,000 inches. I have to fire at targets 250 inches away before I even get a range penalty, which my suit also offsets slightly.

-One session had my compatriots leave me behind on a hill, where I surprised their foes by dropping shots into the fight like I was a piece of artillery.

-I was swarmed by monsters, and fired my boomgun from the hip. The recoil threw me back out of the melee combat, and the backblast stunned a bunch of them to be easy prey for my friends.

-We were pinned down across a courtyard by a bunch of goons in second-story firing positions, who were throwing EMP grenades specially designed to take people like me out, and the GM thought he had me, especially. Until my party members managed to distract them for a turn, upon which I charged across the courtyard, and crashed through the bottom floor wall like I was the Kool-Aid man, and proceeded to tear the floor out from under them. "Best line of the game was one of the goons screaming "Oh my god...he's in the building WITH us!"

I am also the butt of many jokes in the group, because while I play a archetype that is usually built for excelling at ranged combat, I specialize in melee combat, especially using improvised weapons. I have thrown cars, I have pulled up an old street sign and used it like a sledgehammer, and have climbed up on top of giant bad guys to fight them in melee.

But probably my best moment was in our fantasy game where we were beset by assassins from the rooftops on a dense city street, and I, our leader- a born-again priest and master swordsman- had to hide in doorways so they couldn't kill me while my team proceeded to kill them with magic and ranged weapons. "Yes, keep it up! Good job, guys!"