Sunday, April 10, 2011
Crouched behind boulders, they saw eight orcs sniffing around - perhaps for truffles. The PCs were nervous since they were no match for such a large contingent, but the party had careful canvased the area with snares the day before. Luck was on their side as seven of the eight orcs sailed into the air, cursing and dangling upside-down like pinatas.
The players smiled. This would be a breeze - but they had to act quickly. The orcs could break free very easily. Ron's dwarf assassin jumped up. This was Ron's second dwarf assassin, as the first had recently been eaten by a dragon. He pulled out a dagger that had been carefully coated with the venom of a giant spider and threw it at one of the dangling orcs.
Ron rolled a 1.
As a DM, I see critical fumbles as the universe's way of informing me that it is now time to be a dick.
"Hmm, roll an attack on yourself."
He sighed and rolled the d20. It came up 20.
"Ouch, full damage," I blinked. Ron stared at me, and continued to stare, as if I was forgetting something.
I suddenly remembered. "Oh crap. Save vs. Poison." I searched my mind for what type of poison. It was save or die.
"Um, okay," I took a deep breath. "You throw the dagger and it lodges into your foot. You clutch at your chest, make a death rattle, and fall down on the ground, dead."
Ron calmly slid his character sheet under his folder, pull out a piece of notebook paper, and began rolling six-siders.
Tim pulled his jaw back to it's closed and upright position, looked at me, and busted out laughing.
I try really hard in my life not to upset anyone unduly or pick on people or make them feel bad. However, I am human. I laughed.
The whole group began to laugh uncontrollably until our sides hurt. All except Ron, who finished rolling up his new character.
"I'm sorry," I apologized to Ron, trying to control myself. "What is this new character going to be?"
"Another dwarf assassin, of course." he smiled.
"Hopefully the third time would be a charm." We all cracked up again.
When we all calmed down, I described the situation again.
"We are so screwed," Tim shook his head, the smile fading from his lips. "I run."