Dungeon Delving

In case you haven't noticed, I've been dumping a lot of stuff I've written in the past on this site. Don't be alarmed. It will all be okay. This particular item is one that I'd completely forgotten writing. It is based off my D&D group. We are highly functional. It changes tense halfway through, for which I am sorry.

“Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?”
The answer was, of course, no. Josh was experiencing intense video game withdrawl, Sharon was wondering when snacks would be provided, Trevor hadn’t finished making his character sheet, and Cooper was wondering if playing this game would deny him access to eternal salvation. The DM had been known to eat babies. Or at least rumored. Cooper had seen what looked like a rulebook lying around with the words, “Kobolds ate my baby” on the front, and made the natural connection. The point was, the DM would mess you up something bad if you didn’t agree with him.
So, naturally, they said yes.

They were plunged into a world of violence and beer. The scene was a tavern, the setting a bar fight. A hulking fighter and lithe man with a tiny sword were in a fight over some peanuts, and were, quite naturally, messing up the bar something bad. Guards rushed in, and the big man rushed upstairs to his room, while the little man dived over the counter to hide behind the bar. Seeing no-one else to arrest for this outrage, the guards blamed Rove, Trevor’s character, who had been sitting in the corner doing nothing because Trevor was assigning his skill points.

“What the hell is Survival anyway? That’s not a skill! If I throw someone off a cliff, do they get to make a Survival check? How about if I stab them? Why are Rangers so much better at not dying than other people? What happened to Wilderness Lore?”
“Stop complaining, Trevor,” sighed Sharon. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s cross-class for you anyway.”
“3.5 Sucks!”
“You suck!” quipped Josh.
“No, you suck!”
“No, you suck!”
“Oh yeah? Well this is you, and this is 3.5!”
The DM interrupted Trevor’s hand gestures:
“You find yourself in a dark cell…”

Rove found himself in a dark cell. He looked around, but couldn’t find anything because he rolled a 2. He pricked himself with a sticker burr, then looked into the adjacent cell. He could easily see by the light from the street, and made out a woman in the adjacent cell.

“I thought you said it was dark.”

Rove really shouldn’t have gotten so close to those bars. Due to the warmth of the day, he took 1 damage from static electricity, and another for complaining about the first. After shrieking like a little girl, he took a closer look at his “prison-mate”. She had long, dark brown hair…

“I’m blonde!”

…blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin like the Nazi Aryan-supremacist bitch she is.

“I am NOT!”

She is.

“No, I’m not!”

Yes, she is.

“You’re a jackass, Brian!”

Oh no! The prison collapses on her, killing her instantly.

“This is retarded. I’m leaving.”

Rats eat her corpse.

Sharon got up from the table, taking care to knock the dice on the floor, and stormed out of the room. Cooper shot a disapproving look at the DM, then left as well. Trevor was too busy looking at the floor to notice anything. Josh looked at the door, at Brian, then back at the door. He scratched his head, then posed a deep question,
“What’s her problem?”

The rats didn’t know what her problem was, but they did know she tasted delicious. Meanwhile, Rove took 10, climbed out of the prison, and walked away a free man.