So today in D&D our wizard got really drunk and bet ALL the party gold on a goddamn dice game at a tavern. The game itself was simple enough: you roll a D6, a D10, and a D20, and declare your roll in order of smallest dice to largest. To win (in order of importance) you need to either:
- roll the highest number (e.g. If you roll 3, 6, and 18, you would declare “18 high.” If no one else beat 18, you win).
- roll a pair (highest pair wins).
- roll a straight (e.g. a 3, 4, and 5. Does not need to be in order of smallest - highest dice).
- roll a triple (highest triple wins)
Now, there was a lot at stake. Approximately 8000 gold, to be precise. Our wizard, as fate would naturally have it, rolled terribly. Got 4, 7, and 12. He was literally at the bottom of the group of six gamblers, with the winner rolling a pair of 5s.
So what did our little drunk gnome do? Well, he was an illusionist! Naturally, he minor illusioned his dice to make him win!
Now, it would be logical for him to, say, give himself a pair that was higher than the winner’s, right? A pair of sevens, perhaps? Luckily, that was exactly what he did. Only, after explaining what he had done to the DM, the whole table collectively face-palmed. But it was too late. There was no going back. The spell had been cast, and we were simply being informed of its effects.
Our wizard had changed his roll to 7, 7, 12.
Yes. He had, according to his brilliant illusion, rolled a 7 on a D6.
The DM was delighted. Grinning from ear-to-ear, feeding off our grief. We all (colourfully) informed our wizard of his mistake. Practically vibrating with glee, the DM began to roll the intelligence checks of the other five men at the table to see through the (very obvious) bullshittery.
They all failed. Every damn one of them.
By sheer dumb luck, our party gold (and our wizard) lived to see another day.
