Most akward in character moment?

[Aimbot]

Have you ever been in a situation where your character screwed up so bad you were embarrassed for him? I'm currently running a hairless Dwarven Defender (long story) named Jormund at level eight in a low magic campaign. He's Lawful Good, but I play him as more a Roy LG than a Miko LG. The party is mostly evil with a neutral or two. Early in the campaign we entered an inn in a wood and were beseeched to find the innkeeper’s kidnapped daughter. She was kidnapped by a group of large hominids (bugbears, we'd later discover) about two weeks beforehand. They left a letter in the field she was captured in saying that 1000 gold needed to be delivered to a specific spot under some rock in the badlands. The party spent 20 or 30 minutes debating what priority the trip was and whether we were prepared enough when my character piped in:

(We've haven't played a session in a few weeks and I can't recall the names of the other pcs, so it's just going to be classes, unfortunately.)

Jormund: 50 gold says she's dead.
Gladiator: Why do you say that? It's a ransom.
Jormund: A two week old ransom. One that orders cash to be planted before the girl is delivered.
Gladiator: Well, yeah, but that's awfully shaky grounds to make a bet on.
Jormund: Large demi-humans. A Poorly written ransom note.
Rouge/Monk: If you're implying that they're not bright, that seems more the reason they'd think they'd need to keep the girl alive.
Jormund: I'm implying that they're simple. These things have two options: carry, feed and shelter the pretty, tasty little elf girl or rape and or devour her and still collect a sizable ransom.
Rouge/Monk: Well, that makes sense, but do you really think they'd realize-
Jormund: Stupid and cunning are two different things entirely. They even called the place they kidnapped her, by all accounts a nondescript flowered clearing, "the killing place," for crying out loud.
Innkeeper: Oh god, you think my Elaine is dead?!

Caught me completely off guard. "Wait! We're still in the inn?"

Everyone nods.

"I thought we were out by the wagon checking suplies?"

Everyone shakes their heads.

"So I tried to start a dead pool for a man's daughter in front of him?"

Everyone nods.

Jormund: Err... No. I'm sure she's alright... Heh.

[Big_Red_Bird]

First off, Jormund the Dwarf wins at life (though it might just be that I would consider doing that in reality).
I wouldn't say I've had any embarrassing in-character moments, since I usually DM, though I can say I've been embarrassed by my own DMing skills at times (I like to think I've learned better).

[Necomancer]

I think mine was when I played Pol the elven's Cleric of the nameless god of death and tacos.

Earlier he got in a fight with a woman over a few dead zombies. Long story short she somehow got a crush on Pol and kissed him, he later found out she was a very well perserved lich. He had a girlfriend so he didn't go further but damn was he tempted too.

Later on he was talking to a resident of the inn he stayed at and he began talking about his day and she his. She mentioned a sister she had and while Heith was talking about how great a kisser this girl was he realized the lich girl and the woman he was talking to were sisters...

The funny part was when instead of dealing with this he ran to the nearest window and jump out, it was closed and he landed in a thorn bush...Later on the woman at the inn actualy said "Did he really jump out the window?"

[Shazzbaa]

I'd be better at keeping my dignity intact if people would just stop PETTING ME!

Truthfully, I'm constantly embarrassed for poor Darrik's sake, because the man is just not very good at controlling his lycanthropy. Suddenly turning into a wolf and being unable to explain yourself until dawn is, yes, most unpleasantly awkward.

And... Aimbot, that's... amazing. ^^;

[MrNexx]

Can totally understand Jormund's position.

Was playing a ganger; just run up from San Francisco after the Trads trashed us, trying to settle out in Seattle. One of our guys got fragged in a firefight, and our resident jerk decided I had to butcher him into small bags for easy disposal. Beat me bloody in order to convince me.

Next day, the mother-hooping fragger tries to order me around again. I tell him where he can take his orders, and that if he wants anything done, he can take the body and bury it out in the woods himself.

Due to this being a PBP, I did not realize I was in the parking lot of a motel when I said this. The busy parking lot of a motel. We left very quickly.

[Sir_Banjo]

The most embarrassing moment came when I referred to the dead after a battle as the "butcher's bill". My character was a mercenary and spent all his time around soldiers so I was used to being fairly casual about such things. The healer, who'd spent most of the night operating on these poor volk, took offense. So began a rather awkard discussion with me trying to dig myself out of that whole. Rather well done by the dm.

[Culwch]

World of Darkness. After a 2 year-long campaign the PCs (a Toreador, a Brujah and an Assamite) managed to purge NYC of Sabbat and claim dominion (as improbable as it is, bear with me. RPG is about having fun.)

A new player wants to join: a Gangrel vampirised on a whim of his feral master and abandoned, a stowaway on a tanker going from Brasil to NYC. He disembarks, makes a haven in the docks. People start to disappear as bodies drained of blood, with bitemarks on the necks start to appear. Poor guy knows nothing of Masquerade, he's not even completely certain what is happening to him.

The party allows him to create a sizeable debt before revealing themselves to him. A dramatic scene atop one of NY's tallest buildings, howling wind, full moon, the works. The Toreador Prince employs his Majesty to get the Gangrel's full undivided attention. He goes on to lecture him on the finer points of undeath and vampirism, introduce Masquerade and induct him into the coterie. The gangrel is speechless, overwhelmed by the sheer majesty of the Prince.

When the final words of the Prince trail off into the silence, the Gangrel is finally able to speak. The words he manages to find are these: "No comprende?!"

His player never cared to buy a dot in Languages for him and the poor sucker knew only Portugese (or Spanish, not that we cared). The prince spoke in English. That was the end of the campaign.

[Sugarmouse]

Can totally understand Jormund's position.

Was playing a ganger; just run up from San Francisco after the Trads trashed us, trying to settle out in Seattle. One of our guys got fragged in a firefight, and our resident jerk decided I had to butcher him into small bags for easy disposal. Beat me bloody in order to convince me.

Next day, the mother-hooping fragger tries to order me around again. I tell him where he can take his orders, and that if he wants anything done, he can take the body and bury it out in the woods himself.

Due to this being a PBP, I did not realize I was in the parking lot of a motel when I said this. The busy parking lot of a motel. We left very quickly.

It was very amusing to read about at the time, Nexxie.

Rick and I shared quite a few chuckles about that one.

[Viscount Einstrauss]

Last Thursday my character got put in jail for "drunken disorderly conduct", after (failing) to cheat at a drinking game, disguising myself as a halfling (I was a changeling), completely ignoring my fellow PC's attempts at explaining to the guards why he shouldn't be thrown in jail, and then somehow managing to not finish lying my way out of the situation despite a HUGE bluff skill for a level 1. I was so ticked, I filled the chamber pot in my cell up and threw it at the other halfling that got tossed in with me because they couldn't tell which one of us was the culprit.

But I'm still kind of mad at the DM. He didn't tell me until after the night's session was over that I was failing my bluff checks despite good rolls and a high stat because he was taking a ridiculous chunk out of it for being "drunk". This especially made me angry because my cheating made it so that I'd only downed two glasses of ale by that point, not enough to warrant the -8 on everything he was slapping me with.

[MrNexx]

Who were you playing, Sugarmouse? Were you the mother-fragging hoop in question? And what the Hel happened to Riki that he just disappeared in that? I finally wound up taking my writing about Hank to MySpace.

[Jades]

My current character, Coulter Guile (Warlock 1/Cleric 4) is the reincarnation of the ancient god of Healing, Magic, Chaos, and Good. Half of my mind is in my staff, and the other is, well, in me. My staff talks to people, when I'm not paying attention to it.

We were in a bar.
Talking Hat: You need to talk to this hot chick named Quanji.
Random PC: She's a God.
Staff: Good, so are/am we/I... this is a grammatical nightmare, why didn't I predict this?
Random PC: You're a god? Prove it.
Staff: *turns undead, just trying to get some holy mojo going*
Bartender: *is turned and destroyed*
Random PC: You are a God!

Later, talking to some demons.

Goliath PC: We're here looking for a sword.
Demons: Why should we give it to you?
Goliath PC: *points at me* He's a God, and he'll destroy you if you don't.
Demons: *douse torches and begin to gank us from the darkness*

[Indoril]

I'd be better at keeping my dignity intact if people would just stop PETTING ME!

Truthfully, I'm constantly embarrassed for poor Darrik's sake, because the man is just not very good at controlling his lycanthropy. Suddenly turning into a wolf and being unable to explain yourself until dawn is, yes, most unpleasantly awkward.

And... Aimbot, that's... amazing. ^^;

I laugh at Darrik's discomfort. Expect more in the future .

[Sugarmouse]

I played John Tanaka.

Yah, Riki disappeared on a job. Then he came back. I got an email from him about a year and a half ago, and I think he may even have been in WoW.

[/derail]

In the spirit of the thread- my moment was in Earthdawn.

My Swordmaster had been horror-marked (not good, m'kay?), and the Horror chose an in-opportune time to freeze me in place. Namely when I was following a Thief who supposedly had information on someone I was hunting.

Needless to say, the Thief circled back, and proceeded to take everything of value I had; including two silver earrings that were removed oh so painfully.

Of course, this being a RBDM, ten minutes after that, some drunken Airsailors showed up...

Valantas was a very sore Elf for about a day or so.

[MrNexx]

Ok, so this MUST have been Riki DMing...

[Necomancer]

I played John Tanaka.

Yah, Riki disappeared on a job. Then he came back. I got an email from him about a year and a half ago, and I think he may even have been in WoW.

[/derail]

In the spirit of the thread- my moment was in Earthdawn.

My Swordmaster had been horror-marked (not good, m'kay?), and the Horror chose an in-opportune time to freeze me in place. Namely when I was following a Thief who supposedly had information on someone I was hunting.

Needless to say, the Thief circled back, and proceeded to take everything of value I had; including two silver earrings that were removed oh so painfully.

Of course, this being a RBDM, ten minutes after that, some drunken Airsailors showed up...

Valantas was a very sore Elf for about a day or so.

Sadly I know a DM who would do this.

[Sugarmouse]

Hehe. Now now, Nexx, easy on the vague hint of bitterness. :) Actually it was my regular DM, egged on by the ED buff of our group.

[BnF95]

As a player, my most embarrassing moment was during a Mechwarrior game. Our unit (12 PCs) formed a company, after playing for the better part of a year (49 sessions) and equipped with LAMs (Land-Air Mechs), we ALL blew our drop rolls (in Aerospace Fighter mode no less) and crashed into the planet. All dead.

As a GM, the most embarrassing moment I've ever witnessed was in Shadowrun. A team of 8 high-tech runners (mostly alphawared and/or initiated wizzers) packing grade a bang-bangs to Scotland that they were able to smuggle into the country or buy there in the black market. When they found clues leading them out into the wilderness, they found out that they didn't have enough money to rent a vehicle. They didn't have time to steal a vehicle, so instead they rented bicycles. Can you imagine how ridiculous they must've looked?

[Khantalas]

That happened to a friend of mine, in a game I was DMing.

There was an AD&D boxed set, if I recall correctly. Its adventures involved xvargs, bugbears, vampires (actually, that was a wight) and red dragons. Well, playing those adventures, my friend got frustrated with someone in the inn. She said, jokingly, "I take an arrow, pull the string of the bow and release." I said "Make an attack roll." She did, it was a 20. I said "Roll damage." She did, and I can't remember the result, but it was enough to kill the guy. In the middle of an inn. Needless to say, the party got arrested and executed. She kept on saying she didn't mean it.

Lesson to be learned: Never joke out-of-game about something that can be done in-game... especially in the middle of the gaming session.

[blackout]

My most awkward moment has to be when my all-monster party walked into a bar and all of a sudden, stuff started being broken, or set on fire via fireball from the team wizard. I was sitting there going 'WTF!? WTF!?' Turns out this was the whole reason we were there, enforcing the monster stereotype.

[Lektor]

This wasn't in D&D, but in a Star Wars GURPS adventure we were running for a long time, and wasn't me but two of the party. But the story still makes us all laugh.

We had one player who insisted on making Bothan slicers, with absolutely no success. They all died terrible deaths, involving one of them who tried to use a grapple hook to go up a lift shaft, with no skill and a terrible dexterity, and promptly fell to his death.

But his funniest death had to come on one mission where I'd sent him to follow an assassin to his hide out, and report back. I stress follow only, then report back in. He did so, but then decided he was going to break in to this building. Once again, with no skill or tools, using a simple lock picking technique on a very high tech door lock. He set off several alarms and the door opened to reveal 4 very large guys with guns who took him away.

We went to the location of his last transmission, and I decided we had no time to be stealthy, so stormed the front of the building. We get through the front door and into the room he's being held in, I charge in to fine him stripped naked, with his legs and arms fastened to a wall with a man in front of him with what was described by our GM simply as 'The intruder'.

So I open fire with my rifle and fall the three badies on either side of him, my team mate runs in, shoots at the guy with the Intruder, misses and gets our friend smack bang in the middle of his face, with all three shots. Knocked him out (the bad guys hadn't actually laid a finger on him) instantly, and it was only my first aid skill that stopped him from dying.

He had to be sent away to have surgery to give him a new face. When he finally came back to the party, he, on his first mission back, managed to lock himself in a box whilst running away from some guards. But not just any box, an air tight box, an air tight box with a lock on the outside. Guess what happened next?

[ExHunterEmerald]

My level two rogue had found a dwarven underworld fighting ring--he was very physically weak and wanted to become a stronger person. He got into a fight with a kobold and downed him in one hit, then decides to up the ante on the gold wager. Behind him, "Sure. I'll take that bet."
My rogue has to fight a freakin' gargoyle. He spanks me, though I managed to bluff him into thinking I was a holy being of some kind (spoke Celestial), right before he drops me.
Then afterwards, while talking to the paladin in a fluff session, he brings up the fact that he's pretty good at staying alive, despite the attempts of spiders, ghosts, and rock monsters.
Paladin: "...wait, rock monsters?"
So my rogue actually gets a TALKING TO like a bad kid for going off to the fighting ring.
The whole thing was sort of embarassing--I'd rolled a natural one on my gather information check to find the ring, and we decided that in his drunken (What? Dwarven city) hangover, he asked a constable about it. A member happened to see the exchange and came over to thwack me on the head. I failed so bad I came out the other side.

[pestilenceawaits]

I had a character that got involved with a weird nature cult (my first character) and I thought it was all well and good because William the ranger needed a nature God to be able to get his spells. It wasn't a problem when they asked for donations but the secret ritual they brought him into involved some snips in places he wasn't prepared to be snipped in. It ended with him running out of the shrine screaming with all his parts intact and ready to swear burn the place down. Luckily he found meiliki (as I found the deities and demigods book)

[Kesnit]

I had just joined the group and the DM was working the others to a point where my character could join. So I got to sit back and watch this develop.

The party split up in a swamp, with the Ranger/Fighter going one way and the Cleric/Wizard and the Paladin/Knight going another. (All characters are gestault.) I can't remember the exact details, but the groups ended up opposite each other, but not knowing how close they were. The DM only told them that they could hear movement in the underbrush.

I was convinced that they were going to end up killing each other before anyone realized the truth.

In the next session, they were heading into the big battle. In an attempt to sneak up on the Ogres and Orcs, they went invisible. (Not sure exactly how since I was out of the room at the time.) So yes, they could sneak up on the monsters, but they didn't know where the others were. Meaning the Wizard couldn't cast any AoE spells and the Ranger couldn't shoot - for fear of hitting another PC.

[Meschaelene]

In the spirit of the thread- my moment was in Earthdawn.

My Swordmaster had been horror-marked (not good, m'kay?), and the Horror chose an in-opportune time to freeze me in place.

I knew nothing about Earthdawn and was just handed a character sheet right before a fight with a horror. I had just moved to the city, and it was a new gaming group. Well, accents are sometimes difficult, and "Horror" pretty much dropped its second syllable in Indiana midwestern... After an hour fight, I said, "That was the toughest prostitute I ever killed!"

The same group, several months later... The game system was Rifts, and the GM asked me to make a 20th century priest. He did *not*, however, tell me the real reason... (see below) As some folks are aware, in the various civil wars and latin american revolutions of the past 50 years, priests have several times become leaders in the revolutionary movements -- and led into combat. It's that sort of liberation theologian I chose for my character...

Our first adventure was fighting the pharoah reborn... I chucked satchel charges and grenades EVERYWHERE, screaming, "Let my people go!" and justified every atrocity I could dream up by citing God's preferential option for the poor and oppressed. As I am justifying placing a bomb in a nursery "as a diversion" so that "we may rain Justice upon the Heads of the Oppressors!", the GM finally tells me that the reason he wanted me to play a 20th century priest was to counteract and tone down the blood-thirstiness of the other players.

Erp...

"...of course, there is no Justice without Mercy..."

[Fax Celestis]

Most embarrassing? Trying to pick the pocket of the BBEG while making it look like I was trying to seduce him, and botching the Sleight of Hand check.

"What's that in your pocket?"

"That's the hilt of my longsword."

"Is that what they call it these days?"

"No, that's really my longsword."

[Sactheminions]

Well, this is all Vampire. I have D&D examples too, but all the best ones involve my old VtM character, Kendrick Dane. He was a Tremere, and always at odds with the Powers That Be in whatever city he was in because his "job" for House and Clan was "troubleshooter". Him showing up was a virtual guarantee that the Tremere knew something very bad was going to happen. It also meant, given his usual strategies, they were relatively unconcerned with collateral damage. (Masquerade aside of course - K. was a stickler for that.)

Anyway, we're in SF late in his career, and after the Prince is assassinated by Setites, K. decides he needs to take over because the Prince-in-waiting is a very old, very intelligent, decidedly non-vicious Toreador. So K. cuts a deal: I get to be the Prince until the war is over and then I'll abdicate (since he assumes the Clan would send him elsewhere anyway).

Two weeks later, K. and his [fellow PC] Thomas Doherty are catching the news in the apartment of a Setite they tracked down. K. says "Hey, wasn't that the building the Setites were using as a front?"

Thomas: Yes.
Kendrick: Why is it on fire?
Thomas: ...
Kendrick: And why are there six Brujah of your immediate acquaintance standing around looking satisfied in the background!
Thomas: Uh, Kendrick, I think you should know...

Turns out he had had his acquaintances hijack a [get this] -tanker truck- and drive it into the lobby of the building while the Setites were inside. Not noticing that there was a gas station next door. Needless to say, a lot of people have a lot of explaining to do when whole city blocks go up in flames.

Needless to say, I wasn't actually too embarrassed in character, because K. was sort of immune to that sort of thing. Out of character, though, I mean, come ON...

This kind of stuff isn't supposed to happen in Vampire games! This isn't Shadowrun!

[twipper]

Think way back to yester year when TSR released skills and powers for 2nd Ed. I decide to run the party through an absolutely chaotic epic campaign to reassemble the Rod of Seven Parts. The game starts in Faerun, jumps to Greyhawk, Spelljams to Vecna's private cystral sphere. The party even ended up outside the front gate of Castle Ravenloft a 1000 years after Strahd's supposed death. At midnight.

Cleric Type: Come on, lets set up camp inside the courtyard <steps through the gate>
DM (me): Everyone make a will save as the guardian banshee screams.
<1/2 the party keels over dead>

This was one of the 4 times during the campaign that the druid being played by my wife was presumed and left for dead. For 4 separate and all equally unrealistic yet legal reasons he didn't in fact die. During one such incarnation of death, the druid befriended a blink bunny.

The campaign ended when the blink bunny in question killed Orcus w/a +5 holy silver vorpal scythe stolen by the party from a group of redneck githyanki and assumed his place as the new Lord of All Undead.

Talk about awkward.


Though there was the campaign where the bard acquired Yog Sothoth as a patron diety...

[Brauron]

My group (which at the moment consists of me and one other person, plus the DM. We had two other people, but they're no longer playing due to constraints of time. We've recruited at least one more person, who'll be joining us in a week when school's back in session) defeated a villainous cleric who was extorting money from the townspeople.

Well, mostly I, Brauron the Barbarian, defeated him. The Wizard cast a sleep spell that gave me time to close in on him, and so I didn't get Fireball'd (he was a cleric of a fire-god). He awoke, tried to Bluff me, it didn't work, I Raged, he hit me with a fireball but only did 8 points of damage, and whacked him in the chest with my Greataxe, dropping him to something along the lines of -2 HP. He's on the ground bleeding out, I'm rifling through his pockets, notice a big gold ring covered in runes on his finger. I try to pull it off; it's fused. The Wizard recognizes it as a Ring of Polymorph Self. I figure I can sell it and buy some booze with the money.

So I chopped off his hand.

The DM looked at me as if to say, "What did you just do?"

Then the Wizard said, "Hey, wait...weren't we supposed to bring him back alive, to be arrested and sentenced by the local constabulary?"

Oh. Yeah. We were....Oops. He's not quite at -10 yet, but neither of us have any ranks in Heal. So I make an Untrained Heal Check and the DM bursts out laughing.

He mimes a chopping motion and says, "he's not healing, why is not healing?"

So anyways I managed to get a tourniquet on his stump and stabilize him. He was at -7 HP.

So we get the evil, unconscious, no-longer-able-to-cast-spells-with-somatic-components cleric to the constabulary (we turned in his hand, too, since the Wizard had concluded that the ring probably wouldn't sell for much and the constable might need it as evidence) and received the gratitude of the town and an aleskin -- like a wineskin, but filled with ale, which, in the eyes of Brauron, makes it better.

[mikeejimbo]

My cleric once realized the guy he was fulling intending on killing so he didn't have to split any loot with him was actually his god in mortal form.

Oops.

[MrNexx]

Really, if your cleric was fully intending on killing him so as to not have to split the loot, and didn't see any inherent conflicts in this action, I don't see how the God could get upset by the contemplation of this action... he was, after all, only acting in the confines of the faith.