Worst (as in "evil") things you've done, in an RPG?

Inspired by the moral ponderings this thread.

Now, like countless other people, I’ve performed my share of horrific evils in video games (shot people; destroyed the world…a few times; intentional vehicle accidents, etc). But I’ve never actually played a pen-and-paper RPG (or even an MMORPG), and I imagine there’s a big difference, there—more human involvement, not just behind the other players and characters, but in the moment to moment shaping the world, the setting of the adventure, itself. Even the best video games aren’t as unlimited as the potential of the human imagination.

…which, of course, means no limit on the kinds of devious, horrific, twisted things people can dream up to do for kicks. :slight_smile:

So I ask you; what are the worst things you’ve done while playing an RPG? Massacred a defenseless village? Executed a Base Delta Zero? Driven your enemies before you, and clasped to your bosom their wives and daughters? Do tell!

In the linked thread, I mentioned the evil campaign I’m involved in. It’s a D&D 3.5 campaign. My character is an undead monk. I used the mummy template to create him, although he’s not wrapped in bandages like Boris Karloff. Rather, he’s a skeletally thin figure with skin like dried leather, dressed in vividly colored Asian robes. His teeth are filed to points and stained blood red, and his fingers are mangled bone claws. Here’s the backstory I wrote when I created him:
I was a member of a holy order, a remote order of wise and benevolent men and women. It was my honor to work in the kitchens, preparing food for my brothers and sisters. I took no small pride in my skills there, all agreed that my meals were of the finest quality. But there was one person’s praise I sought above all else: Ming Lei, a priestess of the temple, whom I loved. But she was sworn to chastity in the service of our order, and I knew she would not entertain my suit, so I swore to never speak to her of my feelings.

That, as it turned out, would be the first of many vows I would break. One night, unable to restrain my feelings for her, I came to her small cell and told her of my love. I begged for her to run away with me, to leave the order and be my wife. But she spurned me! She turned away from me, and said she would speak to our abbot about my advances, for they showed that my dedication to our order was not as strong as it should have been. I could not bear it. So I took from her that which she refused to give me. When I was done, I took a heavy candlestick from beside her bed and ended her life.

I had committed a great crime, one for which I would surely hang.  If I left her body there and ran, they would know I was the criminal, and they would hunt me down.  I had to hide her body.  I could not remove it from the monastery without being seen, but I could think of a great many places within the monastery where I could hide her bones indefinitely.  But what of her flesh?  The meat would rot, and the smell would give away the hiding place.  It was then that my course of action became clear.

I butchered her carcass that night, boiled the bones clean, and hid them where they would never be found.  The meat itself I cooked into a hearty stew, with onions and carrots, and the next day I served it to my fellow monks.  I must say, it met with great success.  I do not think my brothers and sisters had ever enjoyed one of my meals so much!

Ming Lei’s absence was noted, of course, but I had the presence of mind to secret away some few of her possessions along with her bones.  It was assumed that she had run off, possibly with some local farm hand.  No one suspected the great crime I had committed, and I was free to live the rest of my life in service at my temple.

Except that bitch would not leave me alone!  That first night, after the meal, she appeared in my room, her face a bloody ruin from my blows with the candlestick.  I was sure that her shrieks and moans would bring the rest of the temple running to my meager chamber, but no one appeared.  It seemed I alone could see her specter, but it was small consolation.  I could not sleep with her caterwauling.  She appeared again the next night, and the one after that.  Soon she appeared during the day, hovering over my shoulder in the kitchen, her ghostly blood dripping into the soup I was preparing.

It was too much for me.  Maddened by her spirit beyond endurance, I went to where I’d hidden her body and tore it open.  The candlestick I’d killed her with was hidden with her, and I took it up and began to pulverize her bones.  I was… not stealthy.  Indeed, it seems I was very vocal in my imprecations of her.  By the time the other monks had shown up and restrained me, I had already confessed to most of the sordid deed.  It was not until my fellows brought me before the abbot that I revealed their own role in my crime.

My punishment was decreed, but by then, it was too late for them.  My sin was in their stomachs, and now it was upon their hearts.  Simply hanging me was deemed to lenient.  These wise, benevolent elders wanted vengeance.  They wanted to visit upon me an evil as great as the one I had visited upon them.  And in this, they outdid themselves.  A powerful curse was laid upon me, one that bound me forever to this world, not alive, but not dead.  A great vault was carved into the foundations of their mountain fastness, and I laid in it, still conscious, while it was sealed with a great stone lid, laid down by powerful holy wards, to keep my imprisoned in their, alone forever with my hunger.

But the wards were not perfect.  My sin had entered them, and their sin upon me had weakened them further.  I could sense an imperfection in my prison, and so I began to dig.  They had not been fit to leave me with any tools, of course, so I used my fingers to claw at the lid to that great sarcophagus.  It took me three hundred years to claw my way through two feet of stone with my bare hands.  It left them the ruins you see now, while hunger wasted the rest of my body.  But I was stronger than their magic, and finally, I broke free of my tomb.

And that is when I discovered a curious and wonderful thing.  Over the long centuries of my burial, the stain of my crime had entered into the souls of all those who lived and studied at that monastery, slowly warping them.  The sounds of my constant scraping, just beyond the audible, had driven those that remained mad.  And in my long absence from their kitchens, the monks of my order had developed a fondness for my cooking.  No longer a haven for light and peace, the order had become a foul and twisted thing, a cannibal cult that preyed on the surrounding villages to stock their larders.

When I emerged from my vault, ready to wreck my just vengeance against those who had for so long imprisoned me, I found instead a group of willing followers, debased men and women who fell to their knees and called me “Master.”

I fed well on their flesh that night.

Many escaped, of course.  They still roam the night, alone or in small groups, looking for fresh meat for their stewpots, or fresh converts to their ways.  Their devotion to me remains great.  They keep my sacrament, and even spread it to others, for there are many who, once they taste the sweetest meat, find it very much to their liking.  And I, in my turn, hunt them.  And when I catch them, they gladly go under my knife.  To my most faithful, I give the gift of allowing to watch as I feed on their extremities.  For they are loyal, and know that, to best serve me, they must serve themselves.

He’s easily the most evil and revolting character I’ve ever played. He’s also just about the most fun. His charisma is actually very high, so I play him as always very bright and cheerful, and full of helpful advice, even to the people he’s currently preparing for his next meal. And in a fight, he’s almost unstoppable. Between his monk abilities, his high dexterity, and the abilities he’s gained from his mummification, he’s almost impossible to damage, and his clawed hands combined with his unarmed fighting abilities are especially deadly.

I’ve mostly played the Zelda series, so there’s not much scope for evil there.

Playing Ultima VIII: Pagan, I remember not getting terribly far into the game, but finding some sort of orc like children outside the first town. They attacked me viciously, and running away didn’t seem to work, so I set upon them with a knife and cut them up :frowning:

Dude - you’re my hero. (Which is, I guess, the point.) That campaign sounds awesome. :slight_smile:

It’s been a while since I’ve played that one, but I’m pretty sure those were goblins, not orc children.

It’s been a while for me too, I could have sworn they had toys though, which made me feel bad about slashing them up.

Sorry I cannot match Miller’s graphic account. (If you’re going to play Evil, do it in style!)

So a quick note to Ranchoth that all the campaigns I’ve been involved in over 30 years of roleplaying have forbidden evil characters (after a single session where it went disastrously).
As a small data sample, all four SDMB roleplay games are about good heroes (with a few neutrals).
Instead of ‘no limit on the kinds of devious, horrific, twisted things people can dream up to do for kicks’, my groups spend their time trying to turn people away from evil and impress them with good acts.

The worst… Various things I did while playing Alferd.

Beating his own brother into a paste - quite literally. There was pretty much nothing left of him at the end of it - to be fair, he was as much an evil bastard as Alf was, and kind of deserved it, but it was still the savage attack of someone who really wanted to make it HURT.

He tried to convince the party at multiple times to kill innocents…but being the only truly evil character in the party (despite being made up primarily of criminals), he failed in those attempts.

He resorted to torture a few times before I decided I had no real mind for that, so he just went back to (very effective) threats. At least one torture attempt involved cannibalism, though he didn’t go to cannibalism often… He would have with his brother if he thought the rest of the party wouldn’t have come down on him for it. Mmm. Human soup.

He was also a racist SOB. Hated Elves, didn’t care who knew it. Wasn’t too terribly fond of Orcs, despite being half-Orcish himself. (Not a product of rape, FTR…but his mother was a prostitute, so it’s a fine distinction, perhaps.)

As Kitsune, I committed a few acts of cannibalism, but, for the most part the victims were already dead when she came across them, and in the case where they weren’t it was a fight to the death, anyway. (Kit was a were-fox (duh), who couldn’t entirely control herself at the time.) Still creeped out the rest of the party.

Talia - who is a pirate - has committed a few acts of a more regular level of badness…various and sundry burglaries, acts of banditry, and assaults on innocents. Kidnapping, a couple times. Fraud. Mind control, a few times, but nothing major - calming tempers, convincing an enemy combatant to leave the field before they got hurt - but it tends to piss people off when they figure out what she’s done.

In the game I DM, I keep an NPC or two in the party to fill the group out, since I only have two regular players, so I’ll throw in a few things one of them did, as they’re pseudo-PCs…

Rikimard has committed numerous murders - including several counts of fratricide - cannibalism, kept slaves, tortured (occasionally just for fun!), took part in a coup* in his home city… Ah, Drow… so much fun. (The Drow PC has also done all of those things, although there was only one count of fratricide…she likes both her brothers and her surviving sister way too much to kill them. It was the same coup. They won. She also killed Riki at one point. He got better.)

  • Well…sort of a coup…the same family (the Drow PC’s family) remained in power, they just eliminated the rest of the city’s power structure.

I played Might and Magic 6 a lot.

In this game, you can develop skills in Light Magic and Dark Magic. But to learn the more powerful spells, you have to get teaching from a Grand Master of the relevant path. Whether he will accept you depends on your reputation.

So you spend ages working your reputation up to get the teachings of the Light Master so you can learn the powerful spells of Light. Then your reputation is a handicap; you want a low one to get the Dark Master to teach you. So…

Go butcher the starting village’s guards or something. Pick an area that has no more to offer you, get Fly going and rain death down on the guards. By the time that you’ve depopulated the area, your reputation is so low the sewers would appear a pleasant place by comparison, and the Dark Master will happily teach you his secrets too.

Doing it the other way is a lot harder, because it takes longer to build the reputation up than to tear it down.

As a DM, I’d say that the most evil thing I ever did was turn the PCs into assassins.

They’d foiled the Big Plot, see. A group of evil spellcasters had planned to kill the local ruler in public, and the PCs had taken down two of the three killers and exposed the plot.

They believed the boss killer when she protested innocence.

The PCs sought (and were granted) audiences with the local ruler, and bought the two captives in chains with them. The boss revealed her true colours by unbinding the powers of one of the others, Dominating two of the PCs and ordering them to kill the target. Choosing the PC who was deteriorating into a bloodthirsty killer and the PC who could be relied on to use his own magic, publically, in a place where magic-wielding men were hunted and killed.

If I had left the ruler as a low-level party they’d have been a smear on the floor; but the ruler had acquired some levels of noble, and the attacks left her right on the edge of death.

The chaos cultist expansion for WFRP contains some really weird stuff. Anyway, we did mostly typically evil things - broke into an orphanage and sacrificed the children in exchange for demonic gifts, that sort of thing.

Gee, I was gonna say how I nuked everyone in Civ 4 just for fun…but Miller, you win.

Actually, there’s an easier way to do it. One I discovered acccidentally (through an “oops” actually.) See, there was this town in this map. A map loaded with higher level enemies. I had recently acquired the meteor swarm equivalent spell. The one that attacks all enemies on a map. I went back to this map and cast it, thinking I’d soften up the enemies a bit, forgetting that the town was there. I forgot it so much, that when I next went to the character screens and discovered that my reputation had become Notorious (I.e. the most evil alingment possible in that game), I couldn’t figure out what happened. I then happen to go to town and my first thought is “Why is everybody dead?” Then I remembered. Off to the Dark magic master I guess…

So yeah, use that spell on any map with a town. You will achieve the notorious rating in one action.

On a side note, I still had a good ways to go in the game, so I was still able to get back to “Heroic” or whatever the top good alignment was. I now had Heroic alignment and had a Wizard who was both master of Light and Dark magics.

I’ve played an undead monk before, too, but my background was much simpler: my character was an adventurer who’d been killed by a ghoul and rose again. He managed to convince his former allies not to kill him (ghouls are very intelligent), and the group continued adventuring. But he wasn’t any more evil than any other character, other than a penchant for eating flesh (but graveyards were fine when enemies weren’t around).

The most evil thing I’ve done in a game is one I’m going to do, not have done: my changeling rogue/sorcerer is going for the assassin prestige class. In order to do that, you have to kill someone just to become an assassin. She’s almost certainly going to do it by slipping poison into their drink.

Miller for the win. =Whew!= That is one badass, wicked-cool backstory.

Seriously. I wish i was in his DnD group just to see it unfold, and I never play evil characters. (I just can’t seem to do it well…)

Yeah, guilty as charged. In Ultima 4, you eventually find the Skull of Mondain, which you can use to kill anything which is on the screen. I roleplayed it as a nightmare that the Avatar was having (choices not taken), and went into Castle Brittania and started killing everything I saw. I finally found Lord British himself, but 23 years later I am not sure if I was able to kill him too, or whether he just shrugged off the attack and came after me.

There is no way I could even begin to aspire to Miller’s chocolatey evilness.

Way back when wheels were considered revolutionary, I played D&D and Marvel with a bunch of guys. In D&D I tended to play the safer characters - clerics for the most part. We had another player who, well, let’s just say we had personality differences. He loved playing rebel type characters, charging in and making messes - killing innocents, seriously injuring other characters, trapping us and then running away…

So I accidently killed his character.

He built another character, equally dumb, created more havok. Oops. Dead again.

I got away with it as I was (and am) a girl - I guess I didn’t understand the idea behind the game. snort After the third spell gone “wrong” I was finally accused of doing it on purpose.

When we switched to Marvel I played Domino. He decided to be Cable. Ugh. After a few missions gone bad, he switched characters - can’t remember the name, but he was winged. Again, his attitude started up, leading us into problems. So the GM offed him.

Not sure how well this classifies as ‘evil’, per se, as I’m the GM… I’m supposed to be evil. Good assistant work, though…

Was running the final sessions of a long-term Deadlands game, and one of my players (Rob) had to miss a few sessions. When he came back, he and I had a talk about how his character couldn’t really conceivably be with the rest of the party where they were, so we made some plans…

The PC’s are going through an underground mine full of big nasties, trying to escort an NPC and a mcguffin to the center. They know they’re being followed by pretty much the bad-ass-est assassin in the world, who has a host of supernatural abilities. During the trek, they run into a priest from a parish nearby who was sent to help them (Priest played by Rob). The PC’s snap him up and continue on their trek.

Not realizing Rob is the assassin.

The module says the NPC should not be killed under any circumstances (The Deadlands writers had a big problem with anyone they deemed ‘important’ dying. A flaw of the game, but I digress.). During a fight, the NPC gets knocked unconscious. After said fight, instead of looking to her, the PC’s get into a big argument over something else, and while they’re over arguing at the other end of the room, Rob slips me a note.

“Can I just kill her?”

I think about it. There’s nothing in the world to stop him. So he does it. The PC’s come back to her and I say, “Looks like she was a bit worse off than you thought. She’s dead.”

So, NPC dead. After that, I’m not exactly how, but Rob convinced the party he should carry the McGuffin. About an hour later, the PC’s are pinned down by enemy fire a few dozen yards from their eventual goal. As two of the PC’s are taken down, Rob finally steps out into the corridor, drops his disguise magics, holds up the McGuffin and says, “Thanks for the toy. You all have fun now.” and phases through the wall.

The look on the rest of the players’ faces were priceless. The party leader was literally stunned into silence for over a minute, and when he finally could speak, all that came out was obscenities cursing Rob. It was a beautiful moment.

You can do a number of wicked things in Ultima VII, especially considering that you are supposed to be the paragon of virtue. You can steal just about anything, including food off the plates of hungry diners. You can sneak into stores at night and rob them clean. You can rob the royal mint. You can cheat at the casino (which is run by pirates though, so maybe that’s not so evil). You can murder anyone who looks at you funny. You can commit regicide. You can shoot cannon balls at unsuspecting citizens for fun. You can ‘accidentally’ shoot your companions in the back with triple crossbows (complain about all the stealing, will they?) You can even destroy all life in the world. The one thing you can’t do, however, is steal a cart. You’ll have to buy it.

Not one of mine…

The msot evil character I’ve ever heard of actually puts Miller’s to shame. Although, unfortunately we’re not talking about anything quite so… dramatic. The character wasn’t real fancy or secretly corrupting, but was arguably the most awful person to have around for sheer subtlety. He was a DnD wizard-type, quite honest and honorable, willing to deal with people, happy to leave enemies alive… and very, very evil.

He was a merchant. He did magic for profit. And oh, how the money rolled in. And everything else. And everybody else. His brand of business was supplying the elves with weaponry in their wars against the orcs. And then he supplied the orcs with weaponry. And then he bought the captives on both sides. And then snatched the money back with… more weapons! The end result of that mess was that few died, but both sides collapsed after their populations were decimated and they were all sold onto the market. The few survivors were quite incapable of stopping his newly formed colonization companies from turning the entire land into a semi-private fiefdom.

But that was merely one small thing he did. Slaves, drugs, arms, mercenaries: he sold everything to anybody, and usually wound up making money multiple ways on the deal. The worst part was that the Paladin couldn’t do anything about it, since he never broke the law in the slightest. In fact, the man was so kind and generous in public that he had a quite good reputation and the party trusted him completely!

Eventually, of course, the campaign wore off, but the man was well on his way to dominating and subjugating the world with his huge profits, vast web of companies, and horrific ability to betray people and make them thankful for the experience.