rredmond wrote:Any time PC's want to waste resources on stuff that happens off-screen (in my games) is okay by me. I strongly believe that it's not the DMs job to kill the players as much as it is to teach them resource management skills - harshly.
(Hit points are resources, right?)
I suppose I can see that line of reasoning...
DM: ... and there is a brothel, the Scurvy Wench, located in an old building just behind the pawn broker.
Gimlet: Aw, sweet! I go to the brothel, then! Who wants to join me?
DM: Anyone else want to go to the brothel?
Rest of the Party: No!
Gimlet: I guess I get all the ladies to myself, then! Time for some FUN! OK, so... what happens? And I want details!
DM: You enter the brothel, walking past four very burly half-orc guards (armed with scimitars). You have a great time and leave two hours later. Please make two percentage rolls for me.
Gimlet: Wait, wha? That's it?
DM: Yep. Please make two percentage rolls.
Gimlet: Ok... *rolls* I got a 05 and a 32.
DM: *rolls* Ok. *Consults a chart* Walking back towards the inn, you feel a burning sensation in the crotchel region. Apparently you've contracted a debilitating disease. Your strength and constitution will be impaired until you can obtain a cure.
Gimlet: Wow, this sucks!
DM: Yeah, well... Oh, I almost forgot! You also notice... *rolls* Oh. *rolls again* Damn. You also notice your belt is a bit lighter. Looking down, you realize your magical dagger (the dagger for which I've gone to the trouble of searching the internet for 78 minutes to find just the perfect picture, then had to fight 14 rounds of psionic combat with my printer to produce the stunning home-brew play-aid sitting in front of you. Laminated to prevent wear.) is missing. It was apparently nipped during your two hours of unmemorable brothel fun.
Gimlet: That's not fair! I go back to the brothel to get my dagger!
DM: As you climb the steps to go back in, you note the four very burly half-orc guards (armed with scimitars) blocking the way. The biggest one asks if you have a problem. Up close, you can see they all bear scars from their years of working security at shanty town brothels...
Gimlet: Err... No, not now. I guess I'll just head back to the inn. Man, that is one sucky brothel!
DM: *shrugs* You had some sucky rolls. Also, you went to a brothel in a part of town called "Rotten Squats". What did you expect?
Gimlet: Hey, Bore'me, any chance I can get a Cure Disease spell from ya?
Bore'me: Only 4th level, bro. Sorry.
Dragon foot. Bamboo pole. Little mouse. Tiny boy.