135 – People used to magic are oddly demanding when it comes to suspension of disbelief.

1 week later.

We sat around a fire in the forest, each of us with a sheet of paper and a set of dice Lapia helped me make. The Elf's space spells were surprisingly good to make things symmetrical down to the millimeter.

To kill time, I came up with the idea to play a little tabletop role-playing game.

It seemed fitting since magic was a norm to them, but I didn't quite expect the shit I would get.

As it was their first session, I set up an easy first encounter for them to familiarize with the system.

“You open the heavy door of this run-down place and discover what seems to be a manor,” I narrated, taking the role of the dungeon master. “The inside is surprisingly well kept, almost like a noble family's house in a big city.”

They nodded.

“Roll for perception,” I announced. “With disadvantage.”

“What does disadvantage mean?” Lapia inquired.

“Roll the 20 sided die two times, and pick the lowest of the two,” I explained.

The Elf sighed, but nodded.

“Why can't we just... look around?” Alyssa probed with confusion. “I don't understand why I need to roll a die if we're using our eyes.”

I nodded. “Because you might notice something the others don't,” I explained.

The Luzo sighed and cast her die. “I don't get it, but sure,” she muttered.

“I got a 1,” Bonte announced. “What does that mean?”

I bit my lips and held back a laugh. “That's... critical failure...” I explained. “You look around the place, but dust comes off the ceiling and falls on your face. It stings your eyes and you unconsciously close them, and you can't see with your left eye for a while.”

“Argh!” He covered an eye with a hand and groaned. “My eye!”

“I got a 12,” Elena supplied. “The first was a 20, though,” she lamented.

I nodded. “You notice the shadows cast by a chandelier above move unnaturally, but you're not sure why,” I told her. “Also, you notice a door to your right.”

“Alright,” Lapia interjected. “There's something in the shadows.”

I shook my head. “No, no... Only Elena knows that information, and unless she shares it, you don't know it.”

My girlfriend's eyebrows went up and her eyes squinted. “But I just heard you,” she argued.

I took a deep breath. “Yes, but your character in the game didn't.”

“Ahh,” she uttered in understanding. “This is surprisingly complicated.”

“I got a 5,” Bromisnar announced.

I looked at him. “It's a perfectly regular manor,” I told him.

He hung his head in disappointment.

“Nineteen,” Pokora announced.

I turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Did you roll twice?”

The Archer nodded. “A 20 and a 19,” she supplied.

“Cool,” I muttered and looked at the paper in my hands. “Your Elvish eyes reveal a pouch-shaped object laying on the floor some ten meters away from you, from which shadows emerge. It looks mad sketchy. Also, you see a trapdoor right in front of you.”

She nodded.

The others looked at her.

She shrugged with a smirk. “Looks normal to me,” she chuckled.

“10,” Lapia groaned.

“This is the most average manor you have ever seen,” I told her. “Looks abandoned to you.”

Hanna, Thelea, and Yolin failed to see anything new.

Elena shared the information she gathered, but Pokora chose to keep quiet.

Thelea, who stubbornly refused to play anything other than a barbarian, walked ahead of the group.

“Okay,” I spoke up. “ Thelea. You step on a hidden trapdoor, activating the thing. You only have one option since the trap is silent, you can try to grab the edge to prevent your fall.”

The Goliath sighed. “Sure, I'll do that.”

I nodded. “Throw the 20 sided die, please. I'll set the difficulty to 8. Anything higher than that and you successfully prevent your fall.”

She nodded and cast the die on her shield. “14,” she announced with a smile.

“Nice,” I said. “You are now hanging off the edge.”

“Help,” the Goliath 'called out', giving Pokora the stink eye.

Bromisnar, who was playing a Goblin Rogue, spoke up. “I rush to her and try pulling her up.”

“Same,” Yolin added.

I nodded. “Bromisnar, roll a strength check... and considering Thelea is a Goliath in game as well, it needs to be over 12, but you're being helped by Yolin, so add a 2 to whatever you get.”

“This is harsh,” Elena sighed.

The rest nodded.

“I don't want to die this soon,” Thelea complained.

I bit my lips.

“If only someone told us about the trap,” Alyssa commented, looking at Pokora.

The Archer smiled. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” she chuckled.

“What's a strength check?” Bromisnar asked.

“Roll the 20 sided die, then add or subtract your strength modifier,” I told him. “It should be next to it on your sheet.”

The man gave the paper a look and nodded. “Uff...” he uttered and threw the die. “Thirteen total.”

Thelea sighed in relief.

__

“You reach the kitchens, and are greeted by a shady figure,” I narrated, the party having reached the room of the bad monster. “What looks to be a bag to store potatoes has shadowy limbs and an overgrown potato as a head that holds two white eyes. It looks at you and says,” I lowered my voice two full octaves, “The living are not welcome in my master's domain!” I grumbled and returned to my normal voice. “Roll for initiative with the 20 sided die.”

My companions rolled their dice with excitement in their eyes.

Hanna was first, then Thelea, then the monster, then Elena, then Pokora, then Bonte, then Alyssa, then Yolin, then Bromisnar, and finally Lapia.

“I cast,” she started, then gave her character sheet a look. “Mah-jeek missile.”

I nodded. “Roll to see if it hits,” I told her.

There was a short silence.

“What?” Lapia spoke up. “You roll to see if it hits? Why?”

I rubbed my forehead. “Because it's a game, not real life,” I replied, looking at her. “You can miss an attack even if the target is right in front of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That makes no sense whatsoever. How can a spell miss if the target is not moving, and even then what kind of Wizard doesn't add a following effect to their spells?” The actual Wizard pointed out. “You can't convinced me that someone who spent at least a decade of their life to learn a spell doesn't make sure it will hit 99% of the time...”

“What happens if I roll a 1?” the Ork inquired, looking at the die in her hand.

I sighed. “The spell misfires... or fizzles out.”

Lapia's eyes widened. “Excuse me? A Wizard whose spell misfires is not a Wizard at all! They'd be given extracurricular lessons to prevent them from dying!” the Wizard teacher argued. “They won't be allowed to leave unless they can cast 10 spells under an hour without mistakes!”

I nodded. “This game is in a different universe, Lapia,” I explained. “With different universal rules and laws. That's... kind of the point of it.”

My girlfriend sighed and shook her head. “Alright,” she muttered.

“I got a 12,” Hanna interjected.

I checked my sheet and nodded. “It hits, now roll for damage.”

Lapia sighed loudly in disbelief, but didn't say anything.

The game continued, but was constantly interrupted whenever a spell or action required a die and one of my companions who used such action or spell in their daily life shared their thoughts about how silly it was.

“How can I miss?” Thelea demanded. “I'm standing behind the monster. Within arm's reach! My weapon is bigger than the thing...”

“Sound can miss?” Alyssa, who was playing a bard, demanded. “How does that make any sense? It's sound!”

Bromisnar joined with a nod. “Highly unlikely,” was his criticism. “We can speak normally without rolling, but it's necessary for this?”

My patience was running thin by the time they killed the monster, which took longer than expected due to shit luck.

“Well, that's it for tonight,” I closed the session, feeling a bit angry. “I'll go fuck off,” I muttered and went directly into my tent.