…and after the 50th time my little cousin said that at today’s family get-together, I went to the car and got the dice. Three small children between the ages of 6 and 10 got to play (a very loose, impromptu, anything-goes version of) D&D for the first time ever. I titled it, “Save the Princess.”
My niece played a wizard, while the bored cousin played a fighter, who gradually evolved into the equivalent of a rogue/eldritch knight, and the other cousin played a cleric. These are the ensuing things my young players said.
DM: You are all staying at an inn tonight. It’s like a hotel.
Wizard: Is there a pool?!
DM: … why not.
Wizard: I’ll get my bathing suit!
DM: The man who was reading the book in the lobby last night comes up to you guys.
NPC-Druid: I’m going to get to the dragon first, turn into a bear, and kill him!
Fighter: There’s going to be bear traps!
DM: Roll to persuade him there’s going to be traps.
NPC rolls a 3, and the Fighter rolls a 7.
DM: The guy with the book starts crying and goes back to his room.
DM: A pony is 20 dollars, a horse is 50 dollars, and an invisible horse is 70 dollars.
Wizard: Ooooo! Let’s buy a pony!
Wizard: It’s white with polka dots, okay!
Fighter: I want to put a bottomless hole under the wolf! (rolls too low).
DM: You put a hole next to the wolf.
Cleric: I want to put the wolf to sleep. (rolls high enough).
DM: Alright, he’s asleep now.
Wizard: I’m going to push the wolf into the bottomless hole.
Wizard: I want to cast a spell to put bugs in his shirt… Is the dragon wearing a shirt?
The saddest part about the campaign was that the dragon didn’t get one hit off on the players. The wizard, however: poisoned it, burned it, summoned a rock that fell on its head, summoned a swarm of insects that got in its scales and bit it a lot, and the fighter made it incapable of breathing fire. This is how the dice fell, and this is how the dragon died.