"The royal archmage can’t actually perform any magic. He just maxed out his Bluff and now he’s in way over his head."
The party is spending the night in a fortress and are being attacked. The fighter/thief is about to kill a vomiting strong fighter. (A stinking cloud was cast, if I remember correctly)
DM: Your conscience is acting up. The fighter is on the floor, vomiting, and helpless. He’s begging you with his eyes to spare his life.
Fighter/thief: Hell no, I don’t do conscience. That guy attacked me.
Ranger: You’re putting him out of his misery.
Fighter/Thief: Yes, I’m putting him out of his misery.
DM: I suppose you can call it that, yes.
The biggest gaming news of the day wasn’t the $2.5 billion purchase by Microsoft of the studio behind massive-hit Minecraft, it was why the game’s creator chose to sell and not stick around after he did.
And Markus Persson, known to his fans simply as Notch, isn’t just leaving his studio Mojang and his game Minecraft, he’s actively avoiding a repeat of that runaway success.
In his farewell note to gamers, Persson writes that he doesn’t see himself as a “real game developer” and that if in working on new, small game projects he does happen to ever make something that seems to gain traction he’ll probably abandon it immediately.
The game industry is notoriously bad at preparing its super stars for fame. And as gaming grows in popularity and the potential audience of a game and the person who made it becomes frighteningly large, the problem is only going to get worse.
“If the industry wants to continue to grow it needs to cherish its creators, provide them the support they need to survive not only their dismal failures, but their towering achievements too.”
Something went terribly wrong the other night
I was trying to find a way out of the subway station and I followed the exit signs to some doors and when I went through them I was in this enormous echoing hallway made of grimy cement. the bottom, where I was standing, was a metal grid over a pit with no visible bottom, and the approximate three hundred stairs were wet from unknown liquid and salted liberally with broken glass and the whole place smelled like a cave and was lit by one string of flickering lights
and there was no one. that was really weird because this was the university stop on Friday night, there should have been other people trying to leave, but I couldn’t even hear the trains. at the top there were no turnstiles to leave, or exit signs, or shops, or anything besides a small door in a concrete wall, which I almost didn’t see at first
it went outside and when I turned around I was standing in a cracked and mossy parking lot lit by a far-off streetlamp outside what looked like a warehouse: just a wall of cement. no metro sign, or any sign at all, just two small doors that couldn’t be opened from outside.
I still have no idea where I ended up and the more I think about it the more surreal it seems, like I somehow narrowly avoided walking through the doors during a time period when they were a portal to a shadow realm or something.
reblogging for all of you because this was a terrifying experience and the fear must be spread
also! i went back the next week and i swear to god I couldn’t find this staircase anywhere, and no one knew what i was talking about. this is still the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me
the turkey swiss on rye incident
OMG the exciting conclusion. I’ve always wondered how this ended.