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D&D 2nd Edition campaign. I'm the DM for a Ranger who is protecting a wagon carrying an elven noble lady who is going to be trained by the same Wizard mentor that's watching over the party. They are ambushed on the road by a recurring villain and his trained griffons. The Wildmage of the party roasts the first griffon, blinding it as well, making it flee. The ranger stands atop the wagon like "he's got the captain in him" and readies his bow. The last griffon circles wide, avoiding one shot, then makes a diving charge for the Ranger standing up in the open on top of the wagon. The griffon is diving hard and fast, initiative is rolled for the new round, and the Ranger wins. He draws back and plants his arrow into the griffon's face with a critical hit! At this point, the griffon is seconds away from the charge attack, meaning... it's close, too close. The griffon takes enough damage that it cannot sustain flight and plows right into the wagon and the Ranger, smashing everything. Luckily, the elven lady and the Wildmage had retreated elsewhere.
The Ranger staggered up out of the rubble and ruin of feathers and wood, barely. Fists raised to the sky, he screamed in victory, and then laughed his face off with the rest of us. "That's how it's done!" The party talked later about the difference between tactics and style.
DM's after-note - that player had no regrets; he loved every crazy, painful second of it. True role players will role play themselves even if it kills them.