This story took place a couple years ago but I still remember it well.
I was playing in a campaign that was combining a fantasy world with a scientific one. Our party was a hodgepodge of fantasy and science. We were made up of a wizard, a warlock, a fighter, and a Terminator (me). My character was basically a warforged fighter that was the Terminator endoskeleton with wrist mounted shotguns. Our party was tasked with killing the tribal leader of some Lycans. Seemed straightforward enough. We planned on it being a stealth mission, so with me being a robot, we got me fitted with synthetic skin to look human so we could pass off as Lycans and assassinate the leader in the night. We get there, and try to join. But a few bad persuasion rolls later,the guards saw through our ruse. The battle that followed was ferocious but brief. We defeated them, and managed to get to the main palace. We made it to the throne room, terminated (no pun intended) the guards and tried to take down the leader who was a werebear. As the battle progressed he took out two of our party members, but he was almost dead in the end. Finally, I threw the leader across the chamber sending him crashing over a table. He struggled to his feet as his hand clutched his gut, blood seeping through his fingers.
I readied my shotgun to fire the last blow, but before I did, the DM described how we heard a little voice behind us whimper, “Daddy?” Apparently, the tribal leader had a little son, who was standing in the doorway, tears in his eyes. He must’ve heard the battle from another part of the palace and wanted to see what was going on. “Daddy,” he said, his voice quivering, “I’m scared!”
“Run my son! Run! You must go!” The Leader reached out his hand in desperation. I think it was because the Dm was looking for an opportunity of a moral dilemma, and he for sure gave one.
The party was conflicted at this point. The warlock, whose patron was a fiend, wanted to sacrifice the child to gain more power. The other two (who were unconscious) wanted me to take the child hostage. I turned my head to stare at the young boy. Now, keep in mind that up to this point, due to many battle wounds, my synthectic skin was peeling off, my body more robotic than human; half my face non-existent with the endoskeleton showing instead. When I stared at the child, he saw my endoskeleton skull grinning at him. He backed away a few steps and gulped. I looked to the bloodied Lycan leader, then back to the boy, shotgun never wavering. I said as Arnold Schwarzenegger, “Get out.” And the son ran out of the room, tears streaming down his face. I promptly fired the finishing blow.
Later, we traveled back to the city for our payment. after we received our payment the wizard in the party decided to write a letter for the small child and give him a percentage of the gold we earned. Our wizard wrote him a note that when something like, “hey there kid sorry, about your dad I know we were supposed to kill him and all but it was it wasn’t really personal or anything like that hope you’re feeling better (that didn’t help at all.) if you want to become an apprentice of mine feel free to stop by.”
The child never showed, so we can only assume he’s still out there, preparing to be lich for revenge or something of a similar nature.
Sorry for the description being so fancy and graphic but it was a hilarious and fun session nonetheless.