The Critical Hit

The candle flickers on a grid of ink, We stand at the edge of the abyss's brink. A natural twenty strikes the killing blow, While the dungeon's secrets begin to show. Gather the party, roll for initiative, In a world where the story is all we give. From the dragon's hoard to the lich's lair, Magic and steel are all we bear. The Rogue slips soft through the shadows deep, While the ancient giants wake from sleep. The Bard weaves a song of a hero's grace, As the Wizard's fireball lights the space. Check for traps, hold your breath, One bad roll means a dance with death. Don't split the party, don't touch the chest, (Unless you've got Identify to put it to the test). It’s a mimic, it’s a trap, it’s a legendary save, It’s the narrowest escape from a cold, stony grave. The tavern door swings on a rusted hinge, We’re fueled by caffeine and a leveling binge. The DM smiles—that’s a dangerous sign, As we cross the threshold of the ancient shrine. The Paladin’s plate clanks a rhythm of dread, While the Warlock hears whispers inside of his head.