Someone needs to push THAC0’s head under the water then depth charge the pool.

Every system has to decide where to draw the line on the prioritization of realism versus simplicity and speed of play. On one extreme you have the “one page RPG” system where you have exactly two stats and everything uses one or the other, rolled on a single D6. About two thirds of the way to the other extreme you get “Pathfinder has a rule for that,” with some systems going into truly absurd levels of detailed minutia in ways that vary from being mote or less mechanically consistent to the old school D&D method of the designers pulling a random table out of their ass for every new thing they don’t have a rule for yet and filling it out with whatever nonsense comes to mind in that moment.

Yandere needs the clarification of burning your character sheet from the other game, then shackling you to the table for theirs.

Also thugdere’s stance is grounds to have them committed to an asylum for the criminally insane for life. Or just euthanized as a ranid animal, depending on the jurisdiction.

I’m either a cleric from the Abbey of St Whatever passing through Heroshire in my way to hunt monsters in Vampsylvania, or a spellcasting hermit of dubious sanity living in the Witchy Wood.

Probably, although Martin was definitely not the first fantasy author to put a villainous faction/entity in the inhospitable frozen north, nor was he the first to have a villain with a zombie army.

Although I think the Mountains of Muscles are more likely just a border feature slapped in between the Necrolord and the ambiguous barbarians of the northern steppes, which are again a common trope but probably directly drawn from the barbarian tribes of Icewind Dale (Wulfgar’s people in Forgotten Realms).

The Desert Island is where all the shipwrecked sailors get washed up. This is the result of all ocean currents in the Tepid and Warm seas eventually converging there. If you miss the exit you go right past into the Giant Whirlpool of Hydrodynamic Implausibly.

Awesome as usual, and bonus points for the bad guy’s sucker punch attack actually hitting a main weak point in plate mail.

I also like that Angela throws a hand axe. I’ve seen a lot of people with melee focused martial characters hauling around multiple javelins as a backup ranged weapon because they do slightly more damage. When they announce in the middle of a fight that they’re throwing one or even several in a single turn I always think, “Just where were you carrying those multiple long hafted spears while fighting with both hands this whole time?” Mechanically a high strength character can handle the weight but those things aren’t exactly throwing knives you can conveniently slip a half dozen of into your belt or strap to your thighs or arms. A nice tomahawk or two, on the other hand, you can have tucked until your belt.

Kind of. As a concept but not the definition people that use it attribute to it. The act of people getting that definition wrong is itself a memetic behavior.

That would be the actual definition, yes. But many if not most people who use the word “meme” to mean “funny picture and caption” don’t actually know what the word meme refers to. So they go by some definition originating from Reddit, Facebook, 4chan, etc.

“They’re weird looking dragons, I tell you. They fly really fast but somehow do it without flapping their wings, they have short, fat tails, and when they go really fast they blow jets of fire out their arses!”

My only thought upon seeing this is what an overstimulated eight year old would rattle off the top of their head if you told them to make some wicked awesome homebrew that doesn’t worry about any of that “balance” nonsense. Or actual rules at all really. It’s just a bunch of words that someone overheard D&D players say mixed with attempts of sounding like a fast talking comedian.

What really disturbs me about this is that somewhere out there is a living, breathing human who thought of it. I will probably never actually meet that person but the nonzero possibility of doing so shall henceforth haunt my thoughts and dreams forever.

Apply the Harkness test (self aware intelligence, physical maturity, and ability to communicate consent). Both humans and centaurs pass assuming the individual is a willing adult, horses fail twice due to being nonsapient and uncommunicative.

At that point she didn’t have any sleeves.

So what are the chances the two damned souls fighting Angie are actually Redwen’s parents, trapped by some infernal contract loophole because they tried to not pay? Or they tried to offer themselves in their daughter’s place but the devil just said he’d take the whole set? It would add an extra layer to them thanking Angie for protecting their child.

Just start by giving a speech with a bunch of BS buzzwords about traditional brand value recognition and proven growth practices and they’ll wait until the financial reports come in before calling for your head. Much like many executives, shareholders rarely actually understand how the companies they own and operate actually function. They just want to be reassured that they will be getting money without having to actually do anything and the little people can take care of the nitty gritty “work” stuff.

deleted by creator

I’m amazed that none of these comments are mentioning the subject line of the post is a reference to “Stop! Hammer time!”

Yeah. Start by chopping any seven figure (or more) executive salaries in half, then rehire all those people who actually create products for the company. Then go back to making products people actually want rather than overpriced collector sets of material with almost no actual content in them or turning preexisting products into subscription based services. Coming up with new stuff is one thing but when you have literally fifty years of history to see what people like from your primary products it shouldn’t be difficult to not alienate a massive customer based.

Don’t overcomplicate things. Not every single NPC you meet demands a half hour RP session. I’m Bob, this is Sally, the guy in clerical robes is Father Steve, and the dude in the plate is Sir Dinglus of Berryvale. Yeah, he has a weird name but that’s apparently normal where he’s from. Off to the southeast somewhere. You folks have a nice day.