CRIT

We met as we did every week. Party members drifted in. We chatted, goofed around, and updated character sheets. Our DM finally told us to focus and continue the campaign. Things proceeded as they normally do. We explored a cave system on the hunt for a lost dwarven king. Then we stumbled into a giant spiders nest. A run of the mill encounter. Then something improbable happened. Kev rolled a one for his attack roll. A critical failure. Then Dan rolled a one. And Mike. All around the table. We laughed at first because what are the odds? But once it got to me, the mirth was gone. Everyone watched as I shook up my die. Surely, I would not crit fail. The twenty-sided die skipped across the coffee table. One.

Baffled by the unlikely outcome, it took us awhile to notice the air above the table forming a dimple. Kev punched my shoulder when he saw it. The light deformed like a giant invisible finger pressing into a sheet of plastic wrap. The anomaly grew up toward the ceiling. The finger thrust deeper until a hole appeared. A dark little hole with light bending around it like paper marbling. Then we were jerked from our seats and swallowed whole.

We awake on an arid plane. Brave warriors, says a man with his beard tucked into his belt, I have summoned you because our destruction is nigh. He points to a horde of monstrous beings approaching. Opposite the army of darkness, and behind us, is a diminutive force of humans. Will you assist us? Kev scrambles up and shouts, Hell yeah! He runs toward the horde and plants his feet. Magic missile! It is his character’s trademark spell. Nothing. Oh, he rolls his die on the ground which he managed to hold onto. Nineteen. Magic missile! Nothing. Kev looks up just in time to see the scythe flash in the sunlight before it beheads him. The rest of us do not last much longer. As I lay bleeding to death, I see the bearded man run away from the advancing horde and hear him shout, Useless! Useless!