Rock Falls, Everyone Dies

As you grip the bejewelled Sword of Tholtig, you are struck by the BBEG's final trap. A vile and potent curse of mediocrity strikes you and everyone in your party. You go home..
There have recently been threads about people complaining of TPK's, but I dare say that that would make players a lot more upset. Life by mediocrity. :)
 

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A gust of wind blows out your guttering candle, leaving you in darkness. As your entrails slide down the throat of the nearest grue ...

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 


You prise one tightly wedged book from an overstuffed bookshelf. With an audible *ping!* the nail that kept the shelf upright gives way and the entire shelf fall upon you, crushing you beneath an RPG collection forty plus years in the making.... Like so many others, you have been killed by the Tome of Horrors.

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

"I wish to live forever!" you blurt without thinking. With a grin on his face, the blue-skinned bastard responds "your wish is my command, emir" and promptly transports you to five seconds before the end of time. Be careful what you wish for...

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

Your character has achieved infinite oregano. Congratulations, you've won at D&D!

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

you are engaged in a fighting retreat from a horde of orcs towards a bridge spanning a gorge..only to find out the bridge is illusionary
 

As you wander the halls of the derelict alien ship, you start noticing... oddities. First your inertial locater starts giving you odd results, and you get some odd noise over the comms. Then your comms start breaking up, even across very short ranges. You try to return to your ship, but get lost and confused on the way to the airlock. You start getting nervous... this was supposed to be an easy job... You think you've been at this intersection before, but it didn't seem as... bendy last time. You start to run out of air... but your companions, they still have some left in their tanks... That damn useless physicist is babbling about multi-dimensional manifolds again... waste of air...

As the last of you runs out of oxygen, the manifold, sustained by your consciousness, collapses in on itself, leaving no trace that you were ever there.

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

The long passage ahead is paved with 5-foot square tiles of what appear to be baked clay. You walk for quite some way before the clay tile beneath you cracks and break up under your weight. You fall into the concealed pit. You are relieved when your fall is broken by the heavy mud only a few feet into the pit.

That relief lasts only moments once you realize that the pit is filled waist-deep not with mud but with green slime. Within moments your body is dissolved by the corrosive ooze.

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

You are determined not to be beaten by that damn show-off again - the one that is always poking his tongue out at you as he goes by - and by now you are so... hungry for success. But you have a cunning plan...

It is with much delight that you open the crate that has just be delivered to you, the big one marked "ACME". Reading the instructions carefully, you cautiously strap the large red rocket to your back, tie the roller skates to your feet, and then light the blue touch-paper just as your arch-nemesis saunters by...

...you become the DM and get to devise the next deathtrap.

When the next hapless reader falls to your trap, it will then be that unfortunate soul's chance to take out the next reader.
 

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