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This is the story of one of my first D&D experiences that has always stuck with me. Luckily it's brief. Very brief.

I was Playing as a Chaotic Neutral barbarian who aspired to be a berserker during my early years of D&D. I was really just trying to figure out how to role play being chaotic and figured that this equated to rushing into every situation with a sword drawn ready to cut down anything that stood in my way. It sounds kinda corny but I walked into a bar ... (tavern) and decided that the best way to extract the information I needed was to strong arm my contact. The GM, who was a little tired of my antics up to this point, (understandably) looks me right in the eye and says 'you hear a rumbling'. As was typical for my level 3 Berzerker of Doom I drew my huge two handed sword of obscurity, ready for whatever happened to be instilling panic into the patrons of this tavern. The GM said something like 'roll for a relex save' which - I promptly failed. He then calmly begins to explain to me that I've been consumed by an Umber Hulk to which my reply was something like 'What the ... an Umber who?'. He then proceed to explain that I've just been eaten by a 8 foot tall 800 pound beetle nicknamed the 'landshark' who had come up from under me. Seems legit I thought, I always wanted to play a Lawful Good paladin ... please, please, please just don't ask me for that story too.

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I've had so many interesting encounters but the best I would have to say was durring a BESM session. We were fighting several half dragons in a dark room. During the encounter the half lizard jumped onto one of the dragons after i was knocked out of the air by them (half angel adventurer). Coincidentally he decided to pour an acid potion on one of them... directly above my dying body as our slime healer was frantically trying to unsuccessfully tend to my wounds.

 

While hiding from a group of bad guys our Dwarf fighter picked up a twig and held it in front of his face. When one said bad guy asked him what he was doing he answered "I am a bush" With the luck of good rolls on our side and a well timed charm spell said bad guy believed he was a bush and continued on. From then on when ever the dwarf did not want to deal with any annoyance he held that twig up and exclaimed "I am a bush"

 

I was at my local Friday Night Magic tournament (this was back during the reign of affinity in standard for anyone else that was playing during that time). I was a regular at the shop and was also one of the ones generally sitting at the top tables. On this particular night I was playing Red (my deck of choice during this period) and I was 3-0 going into the finals. My opponent was a young kid, also a regular at the store and was playing white weenie. He usually didn't do terribly well but this week his little white army tore a path directly to the finals. It was game 3 and I was dead on the board as the turn passed to me but with my opponent at 1. I slowly peel the last card off of the top of my deck and... sigh. I put the card face down on the table and extend my hand.
"I won???", the kid exclaims.
"Yeah, congratulations."
The kid was so happy. It was a beautiful sight. It was at that moment that I realized that gaming - as a whole - is far more than the sum of its parts. It's about camaraderie. It's about moments. It's about experiencing something.
As the kid rushed to the front of the store to collect his prize I couldn't help but smile to myself as I collected my cards, including the face down magma jet.

 

One of my first char was a dwarf cleric. Our party made it to the final door of the tomb(after haveing been down in the tomb for over a week). Well the door had no key hole and none of us could find a way to get it open. I was getting tired and so i just went up to the door and hit it with my fist(i had a str of 21) when I was burned, shocked, and stabbed by spikes. needless to say i died where apone the DM said that i should have just used my ring of the ram to hit it instead. I forgot I had one on me.

 

Mine was while playing secret of mana on the SNES with a multitap and 2 good friends. We were really concentrated and almost at the end of the game , my game console was on top of my TV so the controllers wires were tense. When we finally managed to get near the place to save in the final part , my stepmother enters my room and right trough the wires , the SNES drops down the TV , the cartridge ejects by the force of the impact...... She is completely drunk (and this si really rare ) and she comes siting right between me and my friends who are still awestruck , and she never even realized that she interrupted a great RPG moment.... We still laugh about it even if it was many years ago

 

Best feeling ever, right ? You did the right thing, bro. Well Done !

 

Once upon a time, in my college days, we had assembled an unlikely team of D&D players that met in the basement conference room of one of the freshman student dorms. One of the new players had constructed a gorgeous plotline based on rescuing an Elvish city from the nefarious plotting of several classic evil factions (cultists, demons, orcs, undead army, and so on), and the game ran very well. Our party, a multiracial band of refugee adventurers cobbled together from the world's disparate nations and unified by Elven desperation, traveled the countryside surrounding Rose City to unearth and slay its enemies. One character, an elderly dwarven priest of the God of Travel, was perhaps the best played of the lot as a loquatious missionary who often sacrificed gold for his faith in wanton fashion. As we reached the mid-levels, it became clear that "Brum Stoneskull" was highly (and intentionally) under-optimized to better demonstrate the movement-related talents of his deity. Even so, he fought and spoke bravely on our behalf! Our quest brought us to the dark tower of an evil rogue/wizard whose machinations had instigated the uprising of many demihuman races against the Elves. With villainous bravado, the mage hurled taunts and threats at the assembled party from a balcony on the fifth floor of the tower, daring us to enter his lair and challenge his guardians and traps. In return, our halfling Druid hurled a ball of ice at the mage to no avail - the foe's Evasion talent eliminated the damage!

With an aggrieved roar, Brum Stoneskull casts Haste, then opens a Dimension Door and charges through it onto the mage's balcony. The DM loses the surprise roll (both for the situation and the ensuing combat initiative) and looks on as the dwarf smashes his Big Bad's hit points to half with a single blow of his warhammer, then pulps the fresh corpse with a critical hit on the second swing. Wild-eyed, the player slams his palms onto the gaming table:

"SAVE VS. DWARF, M*^HERF@(!#R!"

The dungeon and session completely averted, the group retired for the night in a fit of laughter.

 

My most memorable was my first time playing a game of D&D. Our DM (a college classmate) was the son-in-law of Dave Arneson and Dave invited us to play in his study. The room was filled with table top books and miniatures. Over the next couple hours we rolled our characters and started our campaign. Needless to say, Dave's dice were used and we found out they were cursed. Natural 20s dropped like rain to the grin of our DM and chuckle of Dave It was a good time and Dave and family were a lot of fun. I'll never forget it

 

it was about a year ago, my 1st ever D&D session i had built a fairly standard monk, but for the heck of it i put a point in the climb skill. we walk into a tavern and one party member slips on a banana peel. i look up and see a gorrilla sitting on the rafters near the cealing, my thought process was that if i could be friend said animal i could make him a companion. so i hop up there just fine, then i have to roll a handle animal check. I roll a 1, so the gorrilla hits me with his bushel of bananas, i fall and hit the poker game off in the corner..starting a bar fight

 

Well I don't really have a favorite moment really, as things I enjoy happen in almost every session. Perhaps that one time when half of our players for a session of DnD didn't show up so I had to role play for 3 different players at the same time. Or in my Dark Heresy campaign when were on a planet tainted by Nurgle. The party was staying in an inn run by an old lady. All the walls were rotting and the water was filthy, and our Scum was sneaking around after curfew. He got caught by the inn keeper and had to talk his way out of it and tried to charm. The DM let him say what he was going to say, and it amounted to whispering sweet nothings to her. Sadly he botched the roll, so before things went too far south I sneaked up behind her and broke her neck. Thereafter, whenever we'd get into a bad situation, I always had to suggest the "seduce the old woman" option.

 

Years ago, I ran a D&D game for a bunch of new players and one experienced person, because it's always nice to have one person that knows what they are doing.
Well this one player decided that he would determine who would get what treasure, and one of the new players said to him, straight-faced, "Who died and made you party leader?"

 

D&D 3.5. The DM had given my Halfling Rogue a bag that linked to a room that was halfway around the world. It was also possible for me to go into and store a large amount of objects into it. I decided to use this to carry around the large items needed by any adventurer that no one else would want to carry. I went so far as to print a possessions page and write in everything that I had in there. I as the halfling did not fully trust this room and went through the room very occasionally to verify nothing was missing and even wrote on his possessions sheet that he had an up to date list of everything in the room. And as plot would have it, that room was also part of a dungeons we found and explored. Somehow dwarves decided to destroy everything in the room. When the fighting settled a group we ran into said they would help recover any objects that were destroyed there.

Hearing this, I turned to the DM and told him I hand them a list of all the contents in that room(handing him the actual list) and told him this was everything. He proceeded to tell me that my character would not have remembered everything in there and I would have not been able to get everything back from that. When I told him that my character had an inventoried list of EVERYTHING, he laughed and stated good one. Until I showed him that I had a that list as an object on my character sheet...and showed him it written in ink to ensure it could not be easily erased. Needless to say, the group kept their promise and replaced everything, and for the sheer humor factor that I was that neurotic to actually write that item down, gained some extra XP.

 

Playing a level 5 D&D aventure our paladin enjoying some trogg ale at the tavern.
Gm: Roll for constitution.
P1: 1 so does that mean I'm drunk?
Gm: Yes and... (rolls some dice) You now also have kobold pox -1 wis.
P1: Well if I'm drunk i want to hit on the barmaid
Gm: *sigh* Fine roll a charisma check
P1: 12+4
Gm: The elven maiden giggles as you drunkenly blurt out a few compliments. But the burly owner clearly does no approve and waves the guards over to throw you out.
P1: So are you guys coming or what?
P2,3,4 in unison: No!
P1: Fine... so are there any fair maidens out here?
Gm: There is one a little bit up the road.
P1: i walk over there
Gm: Stumble you mean?
P1: fine i stumble over there
P1: I make a charisma check... 18+4
Gm: She doesn't react but isn't repulsed either.
P1: I proceed to make out with her.
Gm: she still seams to lack any reaction to your advancements
P1: I shall copulate with this fair maiden!
P2,3,4: *sigh*
Gm: Roll a str dex and con check.
P1: 20 20... 20
P2,3,4: Wow!
Gm: (rolls dice) She is now pregnant!
P1: Whos the man!
Gm: Roll a wis test.
P1: 18+2
Gm: You notice that the woman was a lamp post
Everyone: *burst out laughting*

Not as fun in post but it was a good time with friends and we to this day tease him about it.


If not that the time when my human rogue was exploring a room where we just killed some cobolds only to find some putrid stew in the middle of the room. Not wanting to taste it i simply inspect it when my friend who is playing a half orc barbarian decides to give me a face full of the stew. But i manage to beat his roll by one 3 times in a row despite him having a strength of like 10 more then me. Or the time when i had a blood sucking ferret on my leg and was going to die of 0 con next turn only to have my friends last roll crit and save me.

I hate this thread i cant pick >.>

 

My favourite RP moment occurred in a player built and maintained persistent world in Neverwinter Nights called Vives.

My character was a lawfully evil Blackguard but he was careful never to be seen doing anything too damning, although he was racist (especially against elves) and vehemently blasphemous. (especially against elven gods)

One day my Blackguard was discovered with his evil vrock minon summoned by another player with a "holier than thou" elven paladin character. He immediately denounced me as "evil" and demanded the city guards take me into custody. What followed was an extended public debate (more like a public trial) where my character successfully defended his use of an "evil" minion as merely using a tool. The vrock was compelled to follow my orders so despite the creature's evil nature, its actions were bound to my will. Thus, the vrock would act for good if I commanded it.

Then my character successfully defended his use of a magic evil aligned double axe. In Neverwinter Nights rogues could invest in a skill that let them use items restricted to other classes, races or alignments. I was able to display my ability to use a wizards wand and thus defended my ability to use my evil double axe.

Then the paladin announced that he knew my character was evil because his god had told him so. My character immediately replied, "I don't doubt your *god* told you I was evil," what I doubt is that your *god* is a god at all! I think he's just yet another snivelly little elf who doesn't want to admit that humans have long surpassed them."

At this an avatar of the elven god appeared and said something about my character needing to learn respect. Then he vanished and my character was suddenly standing in the middle of a firestorm spell facing off against an elite fire giant that was way beyond my level. However, my character had the thief ability evasion, and passed his saves so the firestorm didn't touch him and he had a magic helmet that could petrify an opponent if they failed a DC 16 saving throw which I immediately used. The elite fire giant had something like a +25 bonus to saves against petrification, but in Neverwinter Nights, a roll of 1 is ALWAYS a fail and sure enough, the elite fire giant was turned to stone which my character promptly smashed with one swing of his axe before calmly walking out of the firestorm.

I couldn't believe my luck, but my character was loving what had happened. He walked up to the elven paladin and said, "Was that your god?" *snorts in derision* "Pathetic."

Then he strode off through the crowd before the god could try something else.

 

So we're gaming at our regular Sunday game at my friends house, and we're starting a new campaign. We arrive in a big city, with a quest of going to the local mage guild's tower and delivering *insert mcguffin here*. As we approach the tower, the DM begins to read a very grand description of the tower. It goes something like:

DM: "As you walk along the city streets, you see rising from the center of the city a majestic tower, surrounded by columns of colored lights. Beautiful marble spires rise from the structure in odd places, seeming to hang from the building in ways that physics would not allow. Red, green, yellow, blue and orange glows radiate from the tower, splashing the surrounding buildings in the dazzling colors."

My character was a cleric of the deity of roads and travel. I was always one of those players who liked to stay in character, even though my friends would usually roll their eyes at me whenever I started in with the "thees" and "thou" and the funny voices. But, unperturbed, I begin to talk in character:

Me: "Well, my lord's blessed roads and guiding hand has once again lead us safely to our destination my friends. And what a glorious tower this is, resplendent in glowing hues of red, green, blue, orange and..."

But my mind went totally blank. I knew the DM had mentioned that the tower was 5 colors because the guild was run by 5 leaders, but the fifth color had completely slipped my mind. It sat there dumbstruck, trying to think of the fifth color. Finally, after a few seconds of awkward pause, the DM butts in helpfully:

DM: "Yellow".

Me: *Still in character voice, with an air of pomposity* "Ah, yes, and yellow." *I deliver while stroking my chin, as if this will somehow make the gaffe less absurd*

The sheer absurdity of my character ending that sentence with "Ah, yes, yellow" makes the table burst out with laughter. For a couple of minutes we all laugh hysterically. Needless to say, for the next 20 levels of adventuring, my cleric never lived down "Ah, yes, and yellow", and my fellow adventures love pointing out every yellow object we passed.

 

Playing D&D 3e in the world of Ebberon
There where four heroes a paladin (me), a barbarian, a wizard, and a rouge. They adventured together for many months. On there final adventure they traveled to Argonnessen the land of Dragons. Eventually the group finds the tower they need to get to the top of. (Unfortunately I can't recall why) Ascending the tower the group gets into a few small battles nothing the group couldn't handle. At the top a Bluespawn Godslayer is the last thing standing in the groups way. The wizard being the big hitter of the group can't land a spell the Godslayer has a really good magic resistance. The rouge can't get a good hit in either bad roles against a decent AC its up to the Barbarian and paladin (me) to go toe to toe with the creature. Its a tough battle I have to break off fighting to heal the group. We get a few good hits in but we are going down fast everyone beaten and bloodied I am out of spells to heal up and if I can't kill this thing now someone will die. I scan the battle map for a second I had moved out of melee the turn before to heal I am about 20 feet from the Godslayer who is up against the wall of the tower witch has windows encircling it I see a strait line between me and a large floor to ceiling window that crosses the enemy. I declare that I run full strength into the Godslayer hoping to send him out the window and down 80 feet to the rocks below. The DM calls for a roll I roll the D20 and it comes up a natural 20. I jump out of my set and shout “YES!” “It's not over yet” the DM chimes back he rolls fall damage for the dragon and asks me to roll a reflex save to stop myself before I go out the window I narrowly roll a successful save. The Godslayer takes a heft amount of damage from the fall but the DM declares “Oh! So close he has 1hp left...”
We are all stunned and demand a recount. “...but its been a long night I think we can say you've won... the Bluespawn Godslayer succumbs to his injuries and dies.”

 

Does RPGs count?
(Darn it Kenji1801! What were you thinking?! Of course it doesn't count! Stupid, stupid, stupid! *bangs head repeatedly*)

 

A bit longer than requested, but a fun scene I had with my character none the less!

Pt. 1

Sara's face turns cold and blank, the remnants of her slight smirk torn from her face as the end of the chain clatters upon the ground, its constant movement forgotten. Still keeping her back to the speaker, "What do you want?" she asks as she realizes who she's speaking with.

An amused chuckle fills the air. "I want to thank ye for freeing me from that wretched stake. But, more importantly, I want me axe, and me gem. Twas stolen from me, an' I want it back." He clears his throat. "I dinna appreciate talkin' to the back o' yer head. Unless ye want an axe in yer back, turn around."

Think Sara, THINK! You've got a powerful undead at your back, your weapon in your hands, your boots that can carry you away from here. Stall for time, get the stake from the backpack. Yes! The weapon shaft that staked him originally. Get that and you can stop him again. "What do you want with them?" She begins to slowly turn towards the vampire, holding her spiked chain at the ready. No, you are giving too much away, don't let him know that you are afraid of him

"Because they're mine, ye damned twit. Tis my property, an' I want 'em. That axe I made, that gem I pried from the cold, dead hands o' a thrice damned wizard. Tis...sentimental value, ye could say, aye."

Sara eases up her grip on her weapon and gives him a big smile while doing her best to relax her nerves, "So setting you free isn't good enough now? Now you want your stuff back. All right. Fine." Walking over to her backpack, now looking up at the figure hoping to keep him in sight, she rummages around the for weapon haft.

He stands remarkably close, the blade of a dangerous battleaxe propped up against his leg. A beard of crimson, as if soaked in blood, spills down from his pale chin, dark eyes glaring from beneath his helmeted brow. The dwarf is decked out in a suit of armor more fit for a hero, the polished breastplate and adjoining armor shiny, beautiful, well designed, not too grim. A shield of like design is held in one arm, its metal dark, and upon the surface, streaks of light drift through it lazily, sparking now and then. "Nay, me property is mine. If ye grave robbers had nae lifted it, I wouldn't need to hunt ye down, and slaughter every last one o' ye. But nae, nae, ye have to be difficult." He grins. "Oh well, atleast I'll enjoy spillin' yer comrades' blood."

Finding the haft of the weapon, she holds it tight in her hand, ready to strike, "Wait just a moment there little red beard. There wasn't anything in the deal about you killing anyone... But oh, here's the piece you're missing" Sara stands up, and lunges forward with the speed and grace of a trained professional, pointing the sharpened end of the haft towards the heart of the waiting creature.

The dwarf doesn't duck or bat the weapon aside, but simply dodges to the right, letting the wooden spear stake him...on the opposite side. It doesn't go in to deep, either, the strength of the armor, some force, stopping the blow. With an easy, comfortable gesture, he points to the stake, then to his side. "This is my lung, this is my heart." Not even picking the weapon, his fist rears back, and he swings. Even before he connects, the next move starts, his whole body moving in the woman's direction.
The dwarf's fist, his strength powered by the undeath that grips him, crunches into Sara's stomach. The woman can feel something, as if her essence, that lurches inside her, as if yanked, then released. However, her agility proves the better, for as the dwarf attempts to trip her, hurling himself against her, she stumbles back. "Quick, I'll give ye," He offers with a dark grin.

"Quick isn't all I am, and you haven't see the beginning of quick yet." With that Sara darts towards her spiked chain, grabbing it from the ground, but she doesn't stop. She continues running, nearly halfway down the alley where she knows he'll have to take some time to catch up to her. Wow, that hurt. You're out matched. Go get the others. Her face turns grim and the chain begins blazing with energy like it never has before, No! This is my fight, and I'm going to finish it. "Come on, you bastard!"

Looking as if this were common in battles, he gingerly scoops up his axe, and strides towards Sara. "Ye know, wench, t'would not be wise t' run. I stopped by the local thieves' guild, ye see, and, I...persuaded them to send a thief to the room with yer friends. I'll have me axe one way or another." All the while, he's striding slowly toward her. "And, by me guessing, he's already struck. So, why nae stand yer ground, and die like a good little girl?"

"We'll just see who will be doing what..." She waits for him to get within range, she waits for his attack...

The dwarf simply walks calmly closer, his eyes locked on the woman's, his expression a dark smile. "As much as I love the chase, me dear doe, the thrill o' huntin' down me prey, I'd rather play this game." As he speaks, his eyes seem to bore into Sara's.

Sara thinks to herself, planning, plotting, Tactics, he's only one foe and you are used to fighting so many at once. Focus on him, only him. Use your weapon to your advantage. You've already got this battle won, he can't reach you past your chain. Just bear down and you can take him. "Oh, I'm not running - I'm right here why don't you jus-...." And then her mind seems to lose control of itself, going completely blank. Lost, but not in thought, or at least not her own. Shaking the momentary disorientation out of her head, she continues, "I'm right here, let's just see who's going to die."

 

pt 2.

He pauses just outside of reach. Tipping his head, before going into a ready stance, "So, Girl, where are ye friends headed, an' why? Headed te find me in the wilderness, hm?"

Feeling like it doesn't matter if she tells him or not, for what reason she doesn't know but she speaks, "I don't know exactly where they are headed, but their job is done and they are returning for payment. Not that it is any of your concern. You are just a small detour."

The dwarven vampire nods, and takes a step into the range of the chain. "I see. Nae very helpful, are ye?" He seems to tense up, as if waiting... And then, with a quick dart, the dwarf closes in fast. Instead of roaring, or some such, his face is stoic, set and determined, as he quickly bolts in, axe poised.

Sara reacts with lightning speed, taking a swipe with her spiked chain, looking to bring the dwarf down as she takes a step back herself, retreating out of his range.
The weapon swings in, and tangles the dwarf's boot, yanking him from his feet. An annoyed growl parts his lips, as he sits unexpectedly. "Enough running, wench, we end this." Lifting the shield, the lights seem to converge, getting slightly brighter...and then a Flash, like an angry explosion, fills the air around the shield.
Aw, crap! A spell! Realizing something is about to happen, Sara ducks her head away, covering with her arms and crouching down to try to avoid its effects.

While the woman is distracted, the vampire moves. Instead of standing up, his form becomes a fine mist, rising and moving toward her quickly, closing the gap fast.
Sara, attempting to take advantage of her opponents concentration on something other than the combat, takes another swing at the dwarf with her chain. The chain swings in, but it's not in time and catches only the cloud of mist that is left where the vampire once was.

He closes the range easily, and materializes beside her, axe ready. A sneer covers his lips, and, tipping his head, makes a gesture with his axe. "Hurt me."

Shocked by the speed and ease that the vampire got that close, Sara darts back down the alley, stopping when she is nearly back at the empty lot where the whole ordeal began. Looking around for the stake, she awaits him closing in on her again. He can't match my speed. His tricks are no match for my skill. Take him down.'

The dwarf looks angry, but he calms down quickly, and starts striding toward the woman...until he reaches thirty feet, and his speed quickens, throwing his axe aside, intent on simply using his bare hands to take her out.

This is it! You suckered him in. Strategy, now all you have to do is get his heart! Sara drops her spiked chain as she kicks up the stake at her feet, gracefully catching it and spinning it point first just before she lunges her whole body forward. She kneels down bringing the stake up with such a force that she drives it through the armor and sinks it deep into the dwarves chest!

The dead weight hits Sara like a charging bull. The dwarf is at a tilt, a deadpan expression on his face. The form sags, leaning against her, driving her down. His limbs start to grow limp, one having dropped over her shoulder.

Sara realizes what she has done, she's staked the vampire she set free! Breathing a sigh of relief, she thinks back to her family, to Rousto, to all those she had loved and who had died. Her thoughts turn to Derleth, Vane and the others. They were safe now, the guilt now gone, she can rest. Her body relaxes, somewhat pinned by the corpse of the undead on top of her. "Never again will I put them in danger. Once I take care of this problem, they will all be safe again." She sighs, closes her eyes and rests for a quiet moment.

...And that moment is shattered, as, with lightning speed, stubby fingers stab into Sara's hair, yanking her head. Eyes widen, as fangs graze her throat. His voice, harsh and cruel, whispers, "Death wears many faces, and yers wears mine." With that, the dwarf leans in and bites the woman in the throat, sinking his fangs in deep, and begins to feed, the woman's vision sinking. Later, the dwarf licking his lips clean, brushes the stake off his chest, the impromptu weapon falling to the ground, its pointed tip bent and broken, bits of armor still in the cracked wood.