Why Exact Wording Matters.
(Context: On-again-off-again again. Renariel (male LG aasimar paladin) has just lost in the tournament final. Lord Roger has invited the party back to his castle, which is empty since everyone is off celebrating. Renariel, Gark (male N half-orc ranger), and Ulfgar (male LN dwarf cleric) all fail a will save against symbol of sleep; Velle (female LN half-elf monk) is unaffected due to racial immunity. Worth noting, Velle (once her player got more comfortable with the group) has developed an in-character habit of bickering with the group over specific interpretations of lawfulness. This encounter begins in Roger’s main hall, which has all sorts of evil thematics going for it — lots of black and red, decorative suits of armor featuring skull motifs, lava fountain as a backdrop to the throne, the works. In-character text will be in quotation marks.)
DM: …Minor miscalculation, I didn’t expect everyone to flub their saves; y’all’re gonna be out for… two hours.
Velle: *to Gark (who has been accidentally calling him Richard (IC and OOC) since meeting him)* I told you he was a dick.
*General snickering all around. A bit of tense back-and-forth between Roger and Velle leads to a standard-ish villain offer of Roger ruling with Velle as his second-in-command.*
Velle: I give him a little smirk. “Not as your wife? That’s the usual offer, isn’t it?”
Roger: He smirks right back. “Frankly, we’re not each other’s type.”
Velle: “Fair point. And what of them?” I kinda flick my head toward those three.
Roger: “What of them? What would you have me do with them? Obviously they cannot be released alive, not with the trouble they’ve already caused.”
Velle: Y’know what? I have an idea.
*Everyone makes curious and/or vaguely frightened noises.*
Velle: “If you promise me that you’ll let them live and treat them well… I will agree to serve at your side and help you.”
*General startled noises!*
DM: …Um. Okay, I’m not quite sure how to handle this, it’s kinda off-script.
Ulfgar: *laughing* Great, you broke the DM. Again.
Roger: Apparently he didn’t expect that, and narrows his eyes suspiciously that you agreed so readily. “I’ll have your oath on that.”
Velle: “You have it, and may Irori strike me lame if I speak false.” Good thing I’m already Lawful Neutral!
Renariel and Ulfgar: Dubiously lawful! *They laugh, and high-five in the text channel.*
*Gark, Renariel, and Ulfgar are stripped of equipment and carried down to the dungeon, with Roger promising they’ll be treated well until more permanent arrangements can be made. Once they’re locked up…*
Velle: Does a… 23 on a stunning fist connect with Roger?
DM: Wait, what!? Um. Yeah, easily, he’s not expecting it and isn’t set up for combat anymore. Fort save… yeah, no, he’s stunned, and gives you a stunned look besides!
Velle: “I have served under you and helped you, as was my oath. My work with you is done.”
DM: *laughing (along with everyone else)* Oh you bitch!
*Cue “well played” and “gg” comments in the text channel.*
Velle: I’m just going to flurry of blows on him with non-lethal until he’s unconscious, and lead off each round with a stunning fist.
DM: Don’t even bother rolling, he’s unconscious.
Gark: And I thought I was bad about breaking games with a monk…
Renariel: *Snickers!* …Falcon Puuunch…
DM: *snrk* Alright, y’all, don’t make me mute you. What are you doing now, Velle?
Velle: I strip his equipment off and leave it on the ground, and put the keys in Renariel’s cell.
DM: That happens. You’re not taking any of his stuff with you?
Velle: Fuck no, I don’t know what he’s got, I want Renariel to cast detect evil on that shit first!
Renariel: I have trained you well, young grassho— *Gets muted, promises in text channel to behave, gets unmuted.*
Velle: I pick Roger up… how long is he out for, anyway?
DM: I’m going to say… fuck it, he’s out for long enough. What are you doing?
Velle: I fireman’s carry him back up to his main hall. The place is still empty, right?
DM: Yeah, everyone’s partying with the tournament champion.
Velle: I take him behind his throne, turn around, and dump him off my shoulders into his lava fountain — and I don’t turn around to watch.
*General chorus of “Holy shit!” from players and DM alike!*
Velle: And now, if anyone asks, I can honestly say that he was alive the last time I saw him!
DM: *laughing* Goddammit, Velle. Why do you fuckers all keep salting my recurring villains!?
(Renariel, who played the tiefling oracle in the Falcon Punch story, showed it to Velle after the session. She now thinks the two monks need to be besties. ^.^ )