Our last session of D&D brought me down. Something that can be nothing less than a bad role-playing trope was inflicted upon us. It was everyone’s favorite, the bar-room brawl.
We had climbed out of the sewer and the nasty fights therein. We opened a door and found ourselves in a seedy bar. We had managed to wash the filth off of ourselves, so we weren’t covered in slime, filth and gore. Nevertheless, we were looking for blood, armed and armored as any adventuring party would be.
Imagine if you will, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jason Statham, Vin Diesel, The Rock, and Dolph Lundgren, all wearing black leather and each toting a shotgun and an uzi. Imagine them coming into your favorite bar and demanding that everyone get out. I don’t know about you but I am outta there. Even if my friend gets shot, I am outta there. Sorry friend.
This was the situation when we burst upon this dim tavern. Half of the commoners in the room fled, as they should. The other half attacked us, unarmed and unarmored. Why, in any world, would that happen? How ludicrous a scene is that? Excuse me, Mr. Diesel, as I try to punch you in the face.
We laid into them, cutting them to shreds with our steel and spells. My Cleric wasn’t quite able to believe what was happening so he healed everyone and commanded them, again, to withdraw. They didn’t. In fact they broke bottles and attacked us anew.
Eventually we slew enough of them to make them flee. At the end of the fight, the cops come in and try to arrest us. SO… We escaped back into the sewer. Now the entire city watch is looking for us. Our option to get out of trouble with the Town Guard? A railroaded side-quest. Ugg.