D&D went well tonight. We killed a metric buttload of undead as well as our first dragon. Something highly unusual happened during play. My group has six PCs. One of our players couldn't make it, so there were five of us. At one point, we all made a 1d20 roll in turn. I rolled first. I got a one. The guy next to me also got a one. Then Denise got a one. Then Ash got a one. Then we all turned and stared at Fred, the last guy to roll. He got... no, not a one -- eleven. Two ones, next to each other.
I have never seen anything like that happen. We all boggled.
This was also the evening where we made (yet again) our mistake of trusting NPCs. A nice old woman throwing garbage into a chasm turned out to be a howling hag (like a banshee) who was feeding chopped-up zombie parts to her pet young dragon. Our mistake was announcing our presence, and talking to her. As Ash put it, "Our mistake is treating this like a real world, and treating the people like anything other than talking meat nuggets with experience."
