It had been several months since I had last played my halfling thief, Frisco Flagons, in Fredd's D&D campaign, and he warned me that some interesting things had developed during my absence. The party's cleric, an excruciatingly cutesey halfling druid named Caerduin Bando and played by Fredd's then-girlfriend, was telling everyone that she and Frisco were engaged. So when Frisco came back into town, everyone kept congratulating him and he had no idea why until he met Caerduin's father passing out invitations in the local tavern.
Now when Frisco finally confronted Caerduin (at the honeymoon cottage her father had built for them), the logical thing to do would have been to come out and tell her, he didn't want to marry her; but instead of telling her how he really felt, he tried talking his way out of the situation. Big mistake.
While the wily halfling was talking himself deeper and deeper, the village priest who was supposed to perform the ceremony showed up. Before Frisco could bolt out the window, Caerduin said in her cutesey-sweet lilt: "I cast Word of Command… MARRY!"
Now this raised an interesting dilemma for Fredd. Could the "Word of Command" spell be used in such a fashion? Bryon and Cath, the other players that day, were more concerned with the ethical question. "You can't do that!" Cath said. "You're Lawful Good! That goes against your alignment!"
"No I'm not," Caerduin smiled sweetly and held up her character sheet. "See? Druids are Neutral!!!"
Fredd decided that he would allow Caerduin's spell, but gave Frisco the chance to make a Saving Throw to avoid it's affects.
I rolled a Critical Failure.
After Fredd stopped laughing, he said "You wake up some time later, naked in bed surrounded by crushed flower petals."
Being a determined bachelor and commitment-phobe, Frisco knew he had to do something to get out of his situation. He went to the Bard and the Mage of the party and explained things. They were aghast that Caerduin had used magic to compell him to marry her and agreed to help.
That night, Caerduin's father planned a party to celebrate the marriage and the bard had been asked to entertain. Now the bard owned an enchanted harp which only a licensed bard with the union card and everything could touch; anyone else would be destroyed. Frisco's cunning plan was to pretend to get drunk and impulsively reach for the harp himself. At that moment, the mage would cast a Lightning spell next to Frisco and the wily halfling would duck out of the party under the cover of the bolt.
Everything went as planned. In the middle of the party, Frisco took the stage, announced that he would sing a ballad to his beloved and reached for the fatal harp. The Lightning spell blasted the stage and the guests, blinded by the flash, never saw Frisco slip out of the tent. To all appearances, Frisco had died, killed in a tragic accident.
That's when Caerduin looked heavenward and whined in her annoying sing-song voice: "Mister Cloud? Why did you fry my Frisco?"
We forgot. Caerduin was a druid and had the power to Converse With Nature.
So Fredd had the clouds overhead reply in his gruff teddybear voice, "Hell, I didn't fry anybody! The little git's hiding in the bushes!"
They had me. Frisco was dragged kicking back to the party where he finally let out the whole wretched story. It was a messy, embarrassing situation. The village priest sorrowfully concluded that a marriage performed under magical coercion could not be legally binding. Frisco was free, but the cost was great.
I never ran Frisco in that game again. This was mostly because I was living out of town at the time and rarely had the chance to visit Fredd anyway, but even if I had continued in that campaign I think I would have retired Frisco. Actions have consequences. His duplicitous actions had led to embarassment to everyone and I doubt he would want to show his face in that town again. As for Caerduin, the other members of the party lost a lot of respect and trust in her. Once again, consequences. We both acted perfectly in accord with our respective alignments, and yet we had to suffer consequences for what we did.
But I think the game was all the more satisfying for that. I don't think Caerduin's player regretted that game; in fact we all had a blast.