[ WP ] An adventurer reaches the end of an epic quest only to be presented with two options ; he may keep his life or learn the truth .

`` BULLSHIT. Oh my god, such bullshit. You're railroading the whole campaign!'' 
 
 The halfing rogue of the dungeoneering party threw down his bag of Doritos in disgust, knocking a few painted miniatures and some dice down from the table. The other party members groaned, and the elven sorcerer took a long sip of orange Fanta while the cleric re-arranged the pieces so they sat in their proper squares again. The dungeon master sat back in his chair, scratching at the bald spot on the back of his head. He looked exhausted. 
 
 `` We are all level NINTEEN,'' continued the rogue, and the orc fighter sitting beside him nodded in agreement. `` and you wrote this donkey-dick campaign that we've been questing in for weeks only to have us be killed off? What the fuck happened to starting a religion? I thought we talked about that, Mark!'' 
 
 The dungeon master tensely flipped through his binder of character sheets. `` I'm not Mark right now, I'm the leader of the cult you're trying to eliminate. If you forgot his name I can write it down on a Post-It note.'' 
 
 `` We do n't have to die,'' offered the cleric, pushing up his glasses. `` I mean, he gave us a choice.'' 
 
 `` Then what was the point of even doing this side quest? To loot the dungeon for some shitty gauntlets, Erica? 
 
 The sorcerer looked down guiltily, tapping her pencil on the table. `` I thought they were really cool. +3 dex modifier.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, okay. Whatever.'' The halfing stood up from the kitchen table, jostling the players' pieces again as he stomped to the fridge to grab another soda. He snapped open the lid with a sort of ferocity that only a man who had been in a dungeon for roughly a week could muster. `` You know what? Just fucking kill my guy, I do n't give a fuck. I'll write a whole new backstory and re-roll a paladin or some shit and then we can just move the fuck on from this.'' 
 
 Mark rose as the offending rogue sat back down at the table, removing the paper divider between him and the rest of the table. `` You know what?'' He threw a d20 down with precision anger. `` Yeah, great! A natural 20. You decide you want to learn the truth and you fucking die, and you know what the truth is, Jake? You're a fucking asshole! Now no one else has to start over. Way to take one for the team.'' 
 
 `` Fuck you,'' Jake scowled, taking a long drink. `` Okay fuck you, fuck everyone else, and fuck this campaign! I'm done!'' His chair was pushed out and he stood, slamming the soda down and spraying blots of Mountain Dew across the table. Angrily, he grabbed his bag of dice, a fistful of his tokens and miniatures and his coat. `` If you decide to cast a resurrection spell on me, do n't expect me to come back from the dead! You'd have to roll a nat 100 if you wanted me to ever come back to this dump!'' 
 
 The front door slammed shut, and the rest of the party members blinked, still a bit numb from the whole siutation. After a pause, Ericka turned to Mark inquisitively. 
 
 `` So... if we leave, I still keep the gauntlets, right?''
