There we were, a band of medieval warriors, magic users and thieves (that was me), looking for adventure. Our dungeon master (this isn’t as kinky as it sounds – just geeky) decided we’d be visiting Metropolis that night. What’s the first thing any young adventurer considers when starting out? Gold, of course.
So there we are in Metropolis. We see a sign that says “bank”, so we take our swords and proceed to hold up the bank. The manager is fearless and resists us. Some idiot in skintight blue tights and a red cape flies into the building (flies? Neat! What kind of magic spell or amulet does he have that we don’t?) He lands directly in front of our leader and tells us to cease and desist. Needless to say, we young adventurers have little (if any) respect for authoritarian figures, so we tell him where he can stick his cape.
Our leader, Jim, a warrior, pulls out his enchanted sword. (Game note for non-players: a vorpal sword (ref is Lewis Carroll) is a magic blade. Two 20-sided dice are rolled to determine the percentage chance that it does damage – the higher the roll, the more the damage. If you roll 0-0 (called double zero in the game) you get another roll to determine which body part is severed. 9-5 or above on the second roll (you call which die is the 10-die before rolling) means that you’ve lopped off the opponent’s head.) Anyway, to make a long story short, the dude taps the side of his neck and dares us to swing. His bad. Jim swings at the dude in the tights and, you guessed it, rolls a 0-0. On his second roll, he rolls 9-7.
We pick up the head for a souvenir and demand the bank’s contents. They hand us paper. We medieval types are extremely disgruntled and demand good metal. They empty the tills (wondering what kind of idiots we are). We are really put out now, and demand GOLD! A stuttering cashier points to a pawn shop across the street and says that gold is there. We leave.
We proceed to accost the pawnshop manager. He puts on a brave front. He says, “I’m not afraid. Superman will stop your weapons before they can harm me!” Thoroughly puzzled, we ask “who’s Superman?” Remember, we’re strangers here. He explains that Superman stands for truth, justice and the American way, wears blue tights and a red cape and will be here any second. Reaching into our sack, we pull out the head we just collected and ask “oh! You mean him?” After the clerk passes out, the reign of terror in Metropolis lasts for days. Takes all the world’s superheroes to get rid of us.
And you thought I was a nice, normal lawyer.