Many of us have lugged heavy books and clattering sacks of polyhedra into dank basements, where we've spent the next several hours swilling Mountain Dew, making fart jokes, and occasionally playing actual games. Some fairly funny things can happen when nerds congregate.
My own favorite story comes from a D&D game I ran a couple years ago:
The PCs were in the huge port city of Two Lights, awaiting word from an NPC. To fill up their time, I had created a side quest involving a local vigilante known as the Gentleman Ghost. I dropped three or four strong hints that the players should be interested in this guy. If that failed, I had a sea cave directly below the cliff on which the city sat, but I didn't tell them this up front. I wanted them to do the Ghost story. Midnight pursuit down misty alleyways and precarious rooftops, deadly duels, social intrigue, detective work - it would have been great.
In typical player character fashion, Lonis the elf decided to ignore my hints about the Ghost, even after personally encountering him. Deciding the Ghost would be tougher than Batman, and not worth the effort, he searched elsewhere for diversion.
"What can I check out for fun around here?" he asked a passing troubadour. The troubadour took one look at the strange PC, pegged him for an adventurer, and said, "Everyone's talking about the Gentleman Ghost. There's a bounty on his head, a thousand crowns!"
"Nope," said the elf. "Not interested. What else is there?"
"Sea caves," he replied. What he also said was that he didn't advise going. About once a week some group of half-cocked young yahoos decided to plunder the hidden treasures that "must have lain within." Usually these kids came back wet, angry, tired, and considerably less naive, without their financial situation being perceptibly improved.
Failing to grasp the critical fact that he, himself, was a half-cocked young yahoo, Lonis seized upon the sea cave idea like a man possessed. Renting a battered old dinghy, he rounded up his two buddies.
This is where it started to get good.
Lonis the elf monk had lived in the desert all his life. He had never seen a body of water that came over his calves. Garrison the dwarf barbarian had lived in the high mountains his entire life, never having been in a boat. Natherin the human cleric was equally ignorant. It would have been obvious to even a small child that none of the three was fit to lead the proposed venture.
Did they hire a guide? No.
Did they ask anyone for advice? No.
Did any one of them have a skill that could have substituted for Profession: Sailor? No.
Did any of them stop for even a moment to consider whether or not taking a tiny dinghy out through crashing breakers and into a small hole in the cliffside - against the tide, mind you - was anywhere close to a good idea?
No, no, a thousand times no. Half-cocked? Man, they weren't even quarter-cocked.
They got the boat around the edge of the cliff due to a couple of freakishly good die rolls, but then the fun began. The swelling waves shoved their boat against the side of the cave mouth, promptly breaking it in half. All three PCs were instantly submerged in icy springtime seawater. Mother Ocean raked them across the jagged rocks once or twice for good measure, dealing two of them some nice lacerations.
Bleeding from his scalp, the dwarf managed to swim to the cave interior, towing the elf behind him. They and Natherin dragged themselves out of the water, even managing to pull a few pieces of boat out after themselves. Dripping and shivering, each of them contemplated the salvage, remembering when the fragments had been a boat. What a simpler, happier time that had been.
Figuring the best thing to do was light a fire and get warm, they piled up some bits of boat. Trying to light them, they discovered their tinder was soaking wet. Gee, how did that happen?
No sooner did they give up on that than they were attacked by stirges (cat-sized blood-drinking bats, for those who don't know). They won, but not before all three of them suffered blood drain. This turned them into lightheaded pansies for the next week or so. Now they were cold, wet, boatless, wounded, in debt to a boat lender, and seeing spots every time they exerted themselves.
And they still hadn't seen one copper in loot.
Heavy, persistent clicking noises began to sound from deeper in the cave. Figuring that maybe it would be okay if today's adventure were more profitable in terms of education than cash, they decided to cut their losses and get out. All three of them turned...to face the ocean.
Wait a second. Hadn't they used a dinghy to get in here? Wasn't that dinghy now in several pieces? Yeah. Oops.
After a minute of fierce thinking, they wondered if they could wait for the tide, and use it to their advantage in swimming out. Seconds later they realized the same ignorance that 1) broke their boat and 2) almost drowned them also meant 3) they hadn't the faintest idea how tide works.
Nature three, players zip.
Next they decided the way out was to climb. They figured they would edge along just above the water, then scale the cliff face outside, working their way back up to city level. They knew just slightly more about climbing than they did about boating. Somehow it still seemed like a good idea to them.
They theorized that tying their gear to a large piece of boat would make it float. They could climb without the heavy equipment, take one end of the rope up with them, pull their gear up when they reached the top, and thereby save most of their stuff. I mention this mostly because it was the only halfway serviceable idea anyone had all day. They also tied themselves together before beginning the climb, a measure meant to ensure that, if one fell, the others would hold on tight and "catch" him at the end of the rope.
What it really meant was when the elf slipped and fell he took the dwarf and the human along with him.
So there they were, back in the ocean: cold, wet, boatless, wounded, indebted, seeing spots, *and* seriously pissed off. And still not one copper in loot.
Too weak to attempt swimming after having their blood sucked, they saw the boat fragment with their stuff on it floating nearby. Brushing their gear away to be lost, they grabbed the precious piece of wood and hung on. At this point they hoped hypothermia would kill them before they managed to humiliate themselves further. Eventually they all passed out.
They came to in a sea cave. Yes, the same sea cave they had just almost killed themselves trying to get in, and then out of. There was a fire burning. A veteran adventurer was sitting near them. Was she cold? No. Was she wet? No. Was she wounded, or boatless, or seeing spots? No, no, and no. Had she slain the beast that made those clicking noises? Yes, its slashed-up body was right over there.
Staring forlornly at the miraculous fire, they asked the NPC very quietly and respectfully if she knew a way out of the cave. "Sure, it's right through there," she said, waving a hand. "You could have gotten into the cave through the back of a certain basement in the city. There was no need for any of this boating nonsense." She led them straight out and bid them good day. They trudged back to their inn and elected to stay in their rooms for the next week.
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What's your favorite funny moment - in game or real life - from tabletop gaming?
My own favorite story comes from a D&D game I ran a couple years ago:
The PCs were in the huge port city of Two Lights, awaiting word from an NPC. To fill up their time, I had created a side quest involving a local vigilante known as the Gentleman Ghost. I dropped three or four strong hints that the players should be interested in this guy. If that failed, I had a sea cave directly below the cliff on which the city sat, but I didn't tell them this up front. I wanted them to do the Ghost story. Midnight pursuit down misty alleyways and precarious rooftops, deadly duels, social intrigue, detective work - it would have been great.
In typical player character fashion, Lonis the elf decided to ignore my hints about the Ghost, even after personally encountering him. Deciding the Ghost would be tougher than Batman, and not worth the effort, he searched elsewhere for diversion.
"What can I check out for fun around here?" he asked a passing troubadour. The troubadour took one look at the strange PC, pegged him for an adventurer, and said, "Everyone's talking about the Gentleman Ghost. There's a bounty on his head, a thousand crowns!"
"Nope," said the elf. "Not interested. What else is there?"
"Sea caves," he replied. What he also said was that he didn't advise going. About once a week some group of half-cocked young yahoos decided to plunder the hidden treasures that "must have lain within." Usually these kids came back wet, angry, tired, and considerably less naive, without their financial situation being perceptibly improved.
Failing to grasp the critical fact that he, himself, was a half-cocked young yahoo, Lonis seized upon the sea cave idea like a man possessed. Renting a battered old dinghy, he rounded up his two buddies.
This is where it started to get good.
Lonis the elf monk had lived in the desert all his life. He had never seen a body of water that came over his calves. Garrison the dwarf barbarian had lived in the high mountains his entire life, never having been in a boat. Natherin the human cleric was equally ignorant. It would have been obvious to even a small child that none of the three was fit to lead the proposed venture.
Did they hire a guide? No.
Did they ask anyone for advice? No.
Did any one of them have a skill that could have substituted for Profession: Sailor? No.
Did any of them stop for even a moment to consider whether or not taking a tiny dinghy out through crashing breakers and into a small hole in the cliffside - against the tide, mind you - was anywhere close to a good idea?
No, no, a thousand times no. Half-cocked? Man, they weren't even quarter-cocked.
They got the boat around the edge of the cliff due to a couple of freakishly good die rolls, but then the fun began. The swelling waves shoved their boat against the side of the cave mouth, promptly breaking it in half. All three PCs were instantly submerged in icy springtime seawater. Mother Ocean raked them across the jagged rocks once or twice for good measure, dealing two of them some nice lacerations.
Bleeding from his scalp, the dwarf managed to swim to the cave interior, towing the elf behind him. They and Natherin dragged themselves out of the water, even managing to pull a few pieces of boat out after themselves. Dripping and shivering, each of them contemplated the salvage, remembering when the fragments had been a boat. What a simpler, happier time that had been.
Figuring the best thing to do was light a fire and get warm, they piled up some bits of boat. Trying to light them, they discovered their tinder was soaking wet. Gee, how did that happen?
No sooner did they give up on that than they were attacked by stirges (cat-sized blood-drinking bats, for those who don't know). They won, but not before all three of them suffered blood drain. This turned them into lightheaded pansies for the next week or so. Now they were cold, wet, boatless, wounded, in debt to a boat lender, and seeing spots every time they exerted themselves.
And they still hadn't seen one copper in loot.
Heavy, persistent clicking noises began to sound from deeper in the cave. Figuring that maybe it would be okay if today's adventure were more profitable in terms of education than cash, they decided to cut their losses and get out. All three of them turned...to face the ocean.
Wait a second. Hadn't they used a dinghy to get in here? Wasn't that dinghy now in several pieces? Yeah. Oops.
After a minute of fierce thinking, they wondered if they could wait for the tide, and use it to their advantage in swimming out. Seconds later they realized the same ignorance that 1) broke their boat and 2) almost drowned them also meant 3) they hadn't the faintest idea how tide works.
Nature three, players zip.
Next they decided the way out was to climb. They figured they would edge along just above the water, then scale the cliff face outside, working their way back up to city level. They knew just slightly more about climbing than they did about boating. Somehow it still seemed like a good idea to them.
They theorized that tying their gear to a large piece of boat would make it float. They could climb without the heavy equipment, take one end of the rope up with them, pull their gear up when they reached the top, and thereby save most of their stuff. I mention this mostly because it was the only halfway serviceable idea anyone had all day. They also tied themselves together before beginning the climb, a measure meant to ensure that, if one fell, the others would hold on tight and "catch" him at the end of the rope.
What it really meant was when the elf slipped and fell he took the dwarf and the human along with him.
So there they were, back in the ocean: cold, wet, boatless, wounded, indebted, seeing spots, *and* seriously pissed off. And still not one copper in loot.
Too weak to attempt swimming after having their blood sucked, they saw the boat fragment with their stuff on it floating nearby. Brushing their gear away to be lost, they grabbed the precious piece of wood and hung on. At this point they hoped hypothermia would kill them before they managed to humiliate themselves further. Eventually they all passed out.
They came to in a sea cave. Yes, the same sea cave they had just almost killed themselves trying to get in, and then out of. There was a fire burning. A veteran adventurer was sitting near them. Was she cold? No. Was she wet? No. Was she wounded, or boatless, or seeing spots? No, no, and no. Had she slain the beast that made those clicking noises? Yes, its slashed-up body was right over there.
Staring forlornly at the miraculous fire, they asked the NPC very quietly and respectfully if she knew a way out of the cave. "Sure, it's right through there," she said, waving a hand. "You could have gotten into the cave through the back of a certain basement in the city. There was no need for any of this boating nonsense." She led them straight out and bid them good day. They trudged back to their inn and elected to stay in their rooms for the next week.
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What's your favorite funny moment - in game or real life - from tabletop gaming?
