3.5 campaign many moons ago. Our DM was a generous diety, granting extra XP for clever ideas and keeping in character IRL. Our party included an elven druid, his elven apprentice, gnome tinkerer, half-elf ranger, human rogue (me), and a human bard named Oberon Yeti-Bane. I’ll tell the tale of his name origin at a later time. Our adventure lasted the better part of a year, and there were several epic laughs. This was probably my favorite. We had come to a small city that was ruled by a powerful mage who had recently died, leaving control of the city to be fought over by his twin sons who were also wizards, each with a standing army of several hundred. One was power hungry and evil, the other was goodly and benevolent. We joined the forces of the latter. After several indecisive battles, the brothers each created golems as their champions. Our leader created a fearsome clay golem, but his dastardly brother used the remains of many of his own warriors to create a hulking flesh golem nearly twice the size of our own. Naturally our own golem was beaten in no time, as were our more common forces. So Oberon, whose player was a quick-witted and hilarious fellow, decided to take the group’s marble of holding and run up to the golem, hold the marble to its chest, and speak the command word. He made every roll demanded of him, and the golem was sucked off of the battlefield. Oberon was awarded double XP, and our group was hailed as the saviors of the city. Sadly and humorously, his idea and side effects; anytime we were engaged in stealth there was a large percentile chance that the marble would shake and make a Frankenstein-esque moaning sound, and whenever someone needed something from the marble, there was a percentile chance that the golem would grab them and pull them in for a good old fashioned beat down.