Worst role-playing experience?

[Umbran]

Folks,

Around here, we don't make fun of other people's spiritual beliefs. Period. Let the otherkin thing drop, now, and move on. Thank you.

 

[Fallen Seraph]

I was in a Vampire game where we were instructed to make neonate characters of about five years experience, all closely tied to their sires, and of differing clans.

The Storyteller's boyfriend, on the other hand, played a Scottish werewolf skilled in ninjitsu who wielded nunchaku, stuck in time by a mage's curse for 300 years until accidentally released by meddling Sabbat mystics. No, I don't know how a Scottish werewolf learned to use the nunchaku.

While not as bad, reminds me of one player in my Promethean: The Created game. I had set the game up, so they were all newly awakened Prometheans in Colorado (near the border to New Mexico).

The two players made up reasonable characters.

One a Osiran who awoke in a rain-filled bathtub in a old fallen apart shack, with simply a scratch on the wall saying "danger lies to the south" (it was a Zeku in New Mexico). He soon become quite intimate with road signs, always following those leading "north" and began to view people as those who were "lost" always walking in any direction.

The other a Galatea, she was created by a deranged Centimani in the Mountains, the Centimani had provoked the ire (through months of living there so Disquiet built up) from the nearby town. They killed the Promethean and rescued her, though finally through turned their ire against her. As such she has a love-hate relationship with humans.

Then we got to the final character, he was a Tamuz and had decided he was going to have a mentor lord who was to train him in the art of the Samurai and the Katana before he mysteriously disappeared. Needless to say, a Tamuz wouldn't be involved at all with lordships or Samurai (especially not in modern day Colorado).

 

[KingCrab]

Yes. It was my first Ravenloft adventure at a convention and it was an unbeatable swordsman on horseback who cut off our heads.
We ended up in the lich-lords castle (he ruled a domain but I forget his name). At the end of the game, all the other players were dead and my dwarf stood alone facing the lich. I kept making save after save as the DM chose spell after spell from the PHB to throw at me. I doubt the lich even had a list of memorized spells. Finally the DM triumphantly declared "Forcecage! You're left to starve to death. No save."

Weird thing is, people were congratulating me like I had won. It was my first convention and I was a little freaked by the crowd that had gathered as my dwarf made his saves.

I ran that same module back in my 2e days and (once my players realized that getting their heads cut off wasn't going to be the end) really enjoyed it. It wasn't the most serious if the ravenloft modules, but it was fun.

 

[mara]

Second worst gaming session involved a game of V:tM with my old group. The DM had the brilliant idea to invite a couple friends to join in without asking the rest of us, who brought their own characters. One problematic quirk (among many) of this group was that characters were assumed to exist in a shared universe, so characters would be swapped between games without modification and were generally assumed (primarily by the DM guy, even when someone else was running, much to the annoyance of anyone else trying to run a game) to exist "off stage" even if they weren't featured. By this logic, these friends were able to bring in characters whom had been allegedly given D&D-like experience (WoD players should be cringing now) by "their other DM". In addition, in their old game they were in charge of hunting whatever category our characters were, which I can't remember at the moment, so of course they were here to try to take our characters out.

Needless to say, this was a disaster. None of the regular players were happy about this, but the new people were huge and overtly racist and homophobic to the point where I think we were playing possum on some level in hopes they wouldn't kill us. The session was basically a hopeless fight between us and their characters. In a fit of frustration I had my Path of Lillith Malk scream out a prayer to Lillith to express my character and her player's growing annoyance at being unable to do anything while these random goons stomp us for no reason...

...and summoned Lillith. And produced a demand from the female half of the goon squad that I write her spells in the future. This pretty much ended the session and there was much silent rejoicing. Afterwards we tried to watch an episode of Escaflowne, during which it became clear that the guy could barely read the subtitles. Said couple broke up shortly afterwards so that was the last I saw of him.

The group split (again, this is after the molester with pedophilic tendencies left, IIRC) over playstyle differences and varying opinions on the subject of soap. The actual dissolution took far longer than it should have due to the Geek Social Fallacies (If they change and wash, we get to keep our SAN points... right? RIGHT?) and my desire to not be beaten by my brother at home, but I came out of it with the soap loving half of the group that occasionally commiserates with the FLGS owner, who had to deal with them after we were free, much to the depletion of his air freshener.

 

[Dlsharrock]

The convention organizers rather than the gamemaster were deemed to be the responsible parties and had to go down to the police station. They managed to avoid having to go to court but did have to pay legal fees to get the matter resolved, the cost of which took all of the profits that the convention would have earned.

You have to ask yourself why they let them come back?? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.

My worst experience was part of my best, unfortunately. The first D&D group I played with back in the 80s. My DM was a biker called Tony who I worshipped (the best DM in the world bar none and the reason I fell in love with RPG) and all players got on really well. I lived for Sunday sessions and we played a really great campaign for a looong time taking in lots of the really great modules, like All That Glitters. Classic stuff. I've never forgotten it.

Up until the end the players, and PCs, gelled perfectly. I was a youngling and still learning so my PC (Bivotar) got the nickname Biv the Div for his less than considerate methods of progressing (while the group huddled and discussed the best methods for opening a door behind which they 'meta' guessed a trap might be lurking, I passed DM a note that Div was having none of this faffing about lark, took a long run up and shouldered open the door. Lucky for me everyone was willing to resurrect old Div).

The bad bit came when one of the players started whining that his parents wanted him to allow his younger brother to join the game and practically railroaded the DM into saying yes. We played at each others houses on a rota basis and we were in danger of being banned if we didn't make room. Suffice to say the brother arrived and promptly made his presence known as a) a rules lawyer (my first) and b) an assh*le. Worse still, the brothers clearly hated each other and spent the entire time bickering. One of the last sessions I attended we played approximately two hours of D&D and endured in silence approximately 3 hours of nitpicking, arguing, accusations, dice throwing, tantrums and so on. There was also one infinitely amusing tug of war with a character sheet. It haunts my dreams still.

It upset me, and my short sighted parents noticed I was seeming rather down after game sessions. They naturally attributed it to D&D having 'negative effects' on my young psyche and promptly told DM that I wouldn't be attending again. Well- it was the 80s and in those days D&D was on permanent probation, and they'd only recently watched Mazes & Monsters. Bl***dy Tom Hanks.

 

[Moff_Tarkin]

This one was a really bad experience due to the fact it happened over a decade ago and the DM still makes fun of me for it.

Let me set the background. I was new to D&D and admittedly there were a lot of things I didn’t know. For example, I thought all thieves automatically knew were the thieves guild was in town. So we reach a big city and the DM goes around the table asking everyone what they are doing while in town. He gets to me and the conversation goes like this. VERBATIM!

GM: What are you doing in town?

Me: Well where is the thieves’ guild.

GM: I don’t know, why don’t you ask that guard?

Me: (a little angry at the DM’s joke) Where is the thieves guild!

GM: The guard says right this way sir.

Me: I didn’t ask the guard. I am asking you.

GM: The guards beat you up and haul you off.

Now I was a new player, and it was foolish of me to think all thieves knew were the thieves guild was located. But I fail to see where in that conversation I asked the guard for the location. The funny thing is, the DM agrees that the conversion I just posted here is word for word correct. He still thinks I asked that guard were the guild was.

This guy always made me feel stupid until I started playing under other DMs. In other games I am always intelligent and come up with genius ideas to defeat the bad guys and bypass traps. But every time I played his game my character was a bumbling idiot who’s every action ended in complete failure. I wonder why I “magically” got stupid when I played in his games.

 

[Silver Moon]

You have to ask yourself why they let them come back?? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.

Maybe it wasn't clear in the post but it was two different groups of convention organizers and two different conventions, the second group (that I was with) not finding out about the other group's problems with this gamemaster until after we had mentioned of our problems the night before. Neither group would let him run at conventions after than and word was spread to other conventions in the region at that point.

 

[Calico_Jack73]

I was running a Mage the Ascension game and had a problem player. He wanted to play something but didn't really want to play Mage. The rest of the players were getting into the spirit of a sandbox style game... actually going out and finding the action. He had his Virtual Adept working at a Babbages store, come home, heat up a TV dinner and watch TV. That was it... the player had decided that unless I dragged him into the game that he wasn't going to do anything to help the story along. Every time I came back around to him I asked him what he was doing and he just kept replying with some mundane action. 5 hours into the game he decided to have his character go to bed after he had done every mundane thing you can come up with in his apartment. He had the gall to gripe about the game afterwards... I pointed out to him that the Technocracy LOVES mages like his... they don't DO anything which makes them harmless. I never played with that guy again.

 

[Ipissimus]

On V:tM: Yup, turns out those rules about not touching are there for a reason. Can't count the number of times someone touching someone else appropriately caused problems in live RP. Unfortunately, none of them were game breaking in my xp, so I can't share there.

As for everything else, where do I begin?

The first player who broke one of my games was a stickler for detail. At first, rather harmless detail, like what he had for breakfast or choosing a vintage of wine. Had the most detailed character description I'd ever seen that took up ten pages alone. THEN the problems start. Casually asking the DM what the time of day is and, upon discovering that it was morning, informs us all that his character (a woman, though he was a man... nothing unusual there, though) is going to the toilet. He then proceeds to describe the act of going to the toilet in excrutiating detail based on the contents of his meal 8 hours previous. I'll spare you the details, but she was on a high fiber diet.

Ok, we're all getting freaked and the DM's moving us on and we're trying to ignore this crazy dude. We think he gets the hints we're dropping like great boulders every time he starts up (amazingly, toilet activities are the ONLY thing this guy describes in full detail). Then, we camp for the night. And this guy says that his character is going to stay up and masturbate, loudly. I don't know whether he was pissed off that we wouldn't listen to his scatology or if it was just another of his perversions but several of the players got up and left and we kicked this dude out of the house so fast it took a moment for his eyes to follow.

We were so traumatized that we didn't play for a few months before starting up again from scratch.

I'll also remember unfondly the day I played with a bunch of college acquaintances. Please note: this was an all-male party. We're palying along, everything's going ok, then the male dwarf fighter gets killed by a lightning bolt. It was from a Behir, I remember that distinctly and you'll know why soon. So the encounter ends and I tell the DM I'm searching the area for loot, as you do. One of these guys gets a thoughtful look in his eye and says to the DM: "I rape the dead dwarf."

Maybe I have a more highly developed imagination than most people, but the image sent chills down my spine. The dwarf's player is coughing and spluttering but he's dead and can't to a thing. Whether to annoy the dwarf's player or whatever, the rest of the group quickly takes up the cry of 'Rape the Dead Dwarf' and soon it turns into a gang rape. Sickened, I get up and tell everyone I've got to go. As I was leaving, I heard cries of 'Rape the Dead Behir'.

The poor DM... it was his house, so he couldn't leave but he refused to DM with them after that.

So, in-game shinannigans killed another campaign I ran, this time in Shadowrun. Picture the scene: The runners need to break into an ultra-secret research facility outside Seattle. It's fairly small on the surface, fenced off except for the gate, and I clearly describe to them the guard tower that overlooks the entire compound. Their solution to infiltrating the site: drive up to the front gate in their ordinary street car and cap the guard at the gate. Note that the gun they used was not silenced.

So there they are, the guard bleeding to death on the sidewalk next to their car and BLAM! A sniper shot takes off one of the side mirrors. One of the players panics and says "I open the car door and drag the body of the guard into the car!" Don't ask me what this was supposed to solve. The rigger's player takes exception to this, however, saying "No you're not, you're not getting blood on the interior of this car!" The other guy says to me "I pull him in anyway." The rigger's player says "I reach over the back of my seat and physically restain him!" I pointedly ask what the third player is doing and he just shrugs, so I'm on my own.

Blam! The sniper (think he's shooting from the guard tower? Yup, you guessed right) puts a bullet through the engine block. The players realize this but none of them seem overly concerned that someone's shooting at them or that their car is disabled. The rigger and the guy in the back seat get into a proper wrestling match while the third just sits their doing nothing. Finally getting sick of it I just said "Ok, the third shot goes through the gas tank, the car explodes and you're all dead."

That was the last game of Shadowrun I played with that group. Somehow, they all agreed that yes, they knew they were being shot at. Yes, they knew that the car was disabled and they agree that the blood stains on the interior would have been a minor problem compared to a bullet going through the engine. And the character who did nothing agrees that he probably should have done something, even if it was just running away. But somehow, I'm a killer DM...

Go figure.

 

[Chimera]

Reminds me of my one and only foray into Shadowrun.

Our first session lasted eight hours. Eight freaking bloody hours spent on ONE very short combat. The guy running the game had never GM'd before and insisted on looking up every detail to make sure he was running the combat correctly. It was excruciating. The first round took FOUR HOURS. We were begging him, pleading with him to just do something and move on. But he insistently sat there rumaging through rule-books looking for things because he wanted to do it properly. I started going through the rulebooks, starting with THE INDEXES, finding what he needed because in all his effort, he never bothered to look at the (expletive) index!. He'd just rummage through the book, back and forth, trying to find it by scanning. By the end of the night, all five players were on him about GETTING IT DONE AND MOVING ON and three of us were looking things up for him.

He got better after that, primarily I think because the message was "We're not doing THAT again!".

Then we got into a situation where we had to go to Chicago and steal a truck. I'm playing a Physical Adept (think D&D Psychic Warrior/Monk) who is an outlaw martial artist with a price on his head out west. We get the trucker down and he's on the ground with me standing over him. He (foolishly) orders his truck's AI to kill us. Ok, you're at my mercy and you order your truck to kill me. I'm an outlaw runner. What do I do? I stomp him, roll exceptionally well and kill him outright. Massive damage, DEAD.

The GM goes nuts, telling me I didn't have to kill the guy. Then he has me haunted by the guy's ghost, because I wrongfully killed him. Over and over, just a constant drone through that session in the next about how I didn't have to kill the guy. I got seriously annoyed and told him to knock it off. Unfortunately, then he starts telling me OUTSIDE THE GAME what a horrible person *I* am because I killed that NPC.

Seriously.

(I guess I misunderstood Shadowrun and it's theme. Who knew my GM thought we were all Paladins??? )

A month or so later, I went into Divorce. Since he had been a friend of my psycho ex for years, he decided that everything she said about me was true ("She would never lie to us!" - true quote) and combined with my poor gaming character, I must be the worst form of human imaginable.