Talk is Cheap
Posted on April 03, 2018
It was my first time playing a tabletop RPG. The DM, who would emerge over the years as my best friend, was running myself and another friend of ours in a two person campaign. Well, not a campaign so much as "making-it-up-as-I-go" story to get us used to the idea.
Our friend was playing a female Human Cleric, while I made an Elf Ranger. Less than interesting, I know, but I was new to D&D and I just wanted to shoot stuff in the face with a bow. I never planned on getting into melee combat, but they talked me into taking along a longsword, just in case.
About an hour into the adventure, we got separated while running through a cave system. As I was walking along, trying to find my companion, our DM told me that I entered a large chamber, where I noticed something a little ways away near the center of the room. He had me roll a spot check, which I made, then a knowledge planar roll, which I also made (don't ask me how, I had no skill points in it).
“You see a demonic form, which appears to be lounging on a pile of bones,” the DM said. “It looks right at you and smiles, waiving you forward.” He then shows me a page in the Monster Manual so I can get a good visual. It's a freaking Tanar'ri. I'm level 2.
I sigh, realizing that my first foray into D&D was going to be a failure (he'd mentioned before we started that he could be vicious), and I told him that I was going to shoot at the thing.
"The Tanar'ri is now standing in front of you laughing,” the DM said. “Between his cackling and chuckling you hear him say, 'If you’re done with your futile attempts at bravado, I believe we can—'"
"I draw my sword and swing!"
The DM laughed. "Dude, this thing is level 10, there's no way you’re hitting him, much less killing him."
"Yeah, you can either talk to it or it can kill you,” the Cleric said.
"I'm good, it's evil,” I said. “I have to try to fight it."
The DM looked at me, and realizing that I was trying to RP, sighed and said,"OK, roll it."
I dropped my brand new d20. Natural 20. The DM's eyebrows shot up past his hairline. "Roll to confirm."
Drop. Another 20. The DM and my stranded partner were now staring at me.
"Roll for coup de grace."
“Oooooook,” the DM said. “You cut his head off. The cavern begins to crumble around you."
I ran out of the cavern to discover my lost Cleric in some sort of plant/vine/tentacle prison in the grove the cave system opened out to. She told me how she was captured by a demon who was going to use her to force me to agree to help him.
When she asked me what happened to the demon I told her, "I took a swing at him and he laughed his head clean off."