Player Characters are not fiction characters
Fiction:
"A poisoned arrow flies out at Silvia, the young sorceress, and wounds her grievously."
Game:
"A poisoned arrow flies out at Silvia.."
"Wait a minute, I was behind the barbarian!!"
"You told me you were checking the runes near the door"
"No, I meant to check them AFTER the party went through the door"
"Um...okay. The party goes through the door. And you go over to the runes."
"Yeah, I get very far away from the runes and poke them with my quarterstaff!"
"A poisoned arrow flies out at Silvia, the young sorceress, and wounds her grievously."
Game:
"A poisoned arrow flies out at Silvia.."
"Wait a minute, I was behind the barbarian!!"
"You told me you were checking the runes near the door"
"No, I meant to check them AFTER the party went through the door"
"Um...okay. The party goes through the door. And you go over to the runes."
"Yeah, I get very far away from the runes and poke them with my quarterstaff!"
Henry
Autoexreginated
FICTION: The stalwart adventurers assault the Orc Outpost. They delve through, cutting down rows of orc savages, grimly advancing toward the Orc Chieftain, with the goal of ridding the countryside forever of the Scourge.
GAME:The stalwart adventurers assault the Orc Outpost. In the very first room, they bolt the next door, post one guard, and proceed to look for loot, dismantling furniture, looking for secret compartments, Tearing apart mats straw by straw, tap out all the floor and wall stones, and examine all the orc goods for artistic value, and rest and pray for spells, before continuing on to the next room.
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FICTION: The evil viceroy smiles wickedly at the heroes across the room, knowing they DARE not strike at him in the king's presence.
GAME: The evil viceroy smiles wickedly at the heroes across the room, knowing they DARE not strike at them in the king's presence. Meanwhile, the party wizard casts a silent, stilled Death Spell, and smiles wickedly on his own as the palace guards catch the viceroy in mid-collapse.
GAME:The stalwart adventurers assault the Orc Outpost. In the very first room, they bolt the next door, post one guard, and proceed to look for loot, dismantling furniture, looking for secret compartments, Tearing apart mats straw by straw, tap out all the floor and wall stones, and examine all the orc goods for artistic value, and rest and pray for spells, before continuing on to the next room.
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FICTION: The evil viceroy smiles wickedly at the heroes across the room, knowing they DARE not strike at him in the king's presence.
GAME: The evil viceroy smiles wickedly at the heroes across the room, knowing they DARE not strike at them in the king's presence. Meanwhile, the party wizard casts a silent, stilled Death Spell, and smiles wickedly on his own as the palace guards catch the viceroy in mid-collapse.
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Salad Shooter
First Post
Fiction:
As the unwary heroes pass through the doorway, a granite slab slides shut over it, trapping them forever.
Game:
As the unwary heroes...
Player 1: Wait!! Don't go in there! I read this adventure before! We get stuck or something if we go in!
As the unwary heroes pass through the doorway, a granite slab slides shut over it, trapping them forever.
Game:
As the unwary heroes...
Player 1: Wait!! Don't go in there! I read this adventure before! We get stuck or something if we go in!
haiiro
First Post
Fiction:
"The malefic wizard's eyes grow wide and he claws at the arrow buried in his chest. Teeth bared, his eyes begin to roll as he crumples to the ground, the ancient magics that sustained him draining from his body as he slips into death. The heroes stand silent, hardly able to believe that they have overcome this mightiest of foes."
Game:
DM: "You stand silent, hardly able to --"
Fighter: "He might not really be dead! I hack his head off with my sword."
Wizard: "I take his spellbook and then cast detect magic. Does he have anything magic on him?"
Rogue: "I roll the body, making sure to cut off his robes in case he's hiding anything valuable."
Cleric: "How many hit points does everyone have left?"
"The malefic wizard's eyes grow wide and he claws at the arrow buried in his chest. Teeth bared, his eyes begin to roll as he crumples to the ground, the ancient magics that sustained him draining from his body as he slips into death. The heroes stand silent, hardly able to believe that they have overcome this mightiest of foes."
Game:
DM: "You stand silent, hardly able to --"
Fighter: "He might not really be dead! I hack his head off with my sword."
Wizard: "I take his spellbook and then cast detect magic. Does he have anything magic on him?"
Rogue: "I roll the body, making sure to cut off his robes in case he's hiding anything valuable."
Cleric: "How many hit points does everyone have left?"
WanderingMonster
First Post
FICTION
He stood over the Fissure of Fate, knowing that once he cast the One Ruling Bracelet into its all-consuming void, that Central-Earth would once again be free from the tyranny of Zarron.
GAME
"So what? We're supposed to toss this thing in to the pit now? Lame! Dude, if this Z-guy wants the bracelet so badly, you know he's got to be in a very giving mood right about now. Now get that Seeing-Stone thingy he likes to use and we'll have a chat with Big Bad Whatshisface."
He stood over the Fissure of Fate, knowing that once he cast the One Ruling Bracelet into its all-consuming void, that Central-Earth would once again be free from the tyranny of Zarron.
GAME
"So what? We're supposed to toss this thing in to the pit now? Lame! Dude, if this Z-guy wants the bracelet so badly, you know he's got to be in a very giving mood right about now. Now get that Seeing-Stone thingy he likes to use and we'll have a chat with Big Bad Whatshisface."
s/LaSH
First Post
Fiction: The villain has the heroic fighter hauled before him, bound in unbreakable chains, and starts torturing his loved ones just because he's evil. Finally unable to take any more, our hero screams from the soul, and explodes in radiant golden light! "What is this?" gasps the villain, to be met with a level stare from the hero. "Your fate is sealed."
Game: The villain has the heroic fighter hauled before him, bound in unbreakable chains, and starts torturing his loved ones just because he's evil. Finally, unable to take any more, the player screams from the soul, and explodes in radiant golden light! "What is this?" gasps the DM, to be met with a level stare from the player. "Your fate is sealed," says the player, and everyone else agrees that the DM has gone too far this time...
Well, that's never happened to me...
Game: The villain has the heroic fighter hauled before him, bound in unbreakable chains, and starts torturing his loved ones just because he's evil. Finally, unable to take any more, the player screams from the soul, and explodes in radiant golden light! "What is this?" gasps the DM, to be met with a level stare from the player. "Your fate is sealed," says the player, and everyone else agrees that the DM has gone too far this time...
Well, that's never happened to me...
Doppleganger
First Post
Fiction:
The party enters the dark and shadowy shrine room of the demongod, dimly illuminated by a row of malevolent candles that flicker in the gloom. Four sets of glowing red eyes leer out from the darkness ahead. The party shivers with fear, wondering if they have gone too far....
Game:
The party enters the shrine room of the demongod, cheerfully illuminated in the bright white daylight of the wizard's spell. Four kobolds stand at the far end of the chamber, spotlighted like troubadoors on a radiant stage. The party rolls their eyes and confidently strides into the room to attack.
The party enters the dark and shadowy shrine room of the demongod, dimly illuminated by a row of malevolent candles that flicker in the gloom. Four sets of glowing red eyes leer out from the darkness ahead. The party shivers with fear, wondering if they have gone too far....
Game:
The party enters the shrine room of the demongod, cheerfully illuminated in the bright white daylight of the wizard's spell. Four kobolds stand at the far end of the chamber, spotlighted like troubadoors on a radiant stage. The party rolls their eyes and confidently strides into the room to attack.
Numion
First Post
Fiction: The companions can't believe it. One of their own lays dead at their feet, his body pierced by a dozen arrows. Fighter: "He fought valiantly, worthy of songs..."
Game: The companions can't believe it. One of their own lays dead at their feet, his body pierced by a dozen arrows. Fighter: "I'm taking his Boots of Speed".
Game: The companions can't believe it. One of their own lays dead at their feet, his body pierced by a dozen arrows. Fighter: "I'm taking his Boots of Speed".
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