You're standing in a hallway that runs east-west with three doors on the south wall and two doors on the north wall. You can hear a curious grunting noise from one of the rooms to the south, and a strange light flickers somewhere down the east end of the hall.

What do you do?

I've got a ten foot pole right?

Drop all weapons.
Remove Helmet
Go South

tap foot.

And spikes and rope! It wouldn't be D&D without spikes ard rope!

I detect for magic doors.

you see a bunny

I stride out from the hangings that mask a chamber door, and advance toward the party without hesitation. Instantly I dominate the group, and all feel the situation subtly charged with a new, dynamic atmosphere.

I am as tall as any of you freebooters, and more powerfully built, yet for all my size I move with a pantherish suppleness in my high, flaring-topped boots. My thighs are cased in close-fitting breeches of white silk, my wide-skirted sky-blue coat open to reveal an open-necked white silken shirt beneath, and the scarlet sash that girdles my waist. There are silver acorn-shaped buttons on my coat, and it is adorned with gilt-worked cuffs and pocket flaps, and a satin collar. A lacquered hat completes a costume obsolete by nearly three hundred years. A heavy cutlass hangs at my hip.

I saunter up to the party, laughing sardonically at your amazement.

I mock you. NEEERRRDDDSS!!!!!!!

I roll a 30 sided die, then chuckle to myself.

I roll a ball bearing, claiming that it's a "twenty-eight million-sided die, and its faces are so small you can't see them." When it rolls to a stop at the juncture of the Player's Handbook and a stack of graph paper, I don my Helm of Eagle Sight and scry a 27,934, which means that I've beaten the odds yet again and I parry the spear-thrust with ease and instantly cut tremendously at my mysterious assailant's legs.

The wraith bounds high, clearing the whistling blade, and in midair he hacks down at my bent head. The light hatchet shivers to bits on my helmet and my enemy springs back out of reach with a blood-lusting howl.

And now it is I who rush with unexpected quickness, like a charging bull, and before that terrible onslaught my quarry, bewildered by the breaking of his hatchet, is caught off his guard -- flat-footed. He catches a glimpse of the giant looming over him like an overwhelming wave and he springs in, instead of out, stabbing ferociously. That mistake is his last.

The thrusting spear glances harmlessly from my mail, and in that instant the great sword sings down in a stroke the fell figure cannot evade. The force of the stroke tosses him as a man is tossed by a plunging bull. A dozen feet away falls Th'ub Ya, king of this barren land, to lie shattered and dead in a ghastly welter of blood and entrails.

The throng gapes, struck silent by the prowess of my deed.

So, that uh... 50 xp for you. Oh, and the wraith has a potion of Speak to Insects which WILL come in handy. And ten gold.

≡ Click to see image ≡

I'm sorry. I'm actually a much bigger nerd than most of you. Well, I guess I'd actually be more of a dork than a nerd as nerds are usually really smart. Or perhaps I am simply a spazz. In any case I just wanted an excuse to post that picture.

Save vs. Poison, LeeJay.

I put on my robes and wizard hat.

I want to be a sexy elf.

An aside: the other weekend we had kiwis staying with us, and we were all watching american football. My husband was trying to explain how a tight end can sometimes be a receiver and sometimes a blocker, and said: "It's kind of like being a fighter/magic user".

And everyone in the room nodded sagely.

What's that smell and from whose direction is it coming from?

Aw, c'mon. I yam what I yam, ya know?

Sheesh.

*Elf needs food, badly*

I cast magic missile at the darkness.

The darkness casts magic missile at you.