During last week’s DnD session, my party found ourselves in a massive cavern filled with Drow. A dragon had sent us there to help his cousin fortify, since some very bad people (our DM’s Wednesday night group) were out to steal something from him. The Drow got there first and chained that beast up. They were in the middle of some sort of ritual when we reached the cliff overlooking this cavern, so they didn’t notice us.
Naturally, two of us threw caution to the wind and rappelled down the cliff. The original plan was an Indiana Jones-style “punch out the sentry and steal his uniform” maneuver, but once we had an unconscious sentry, we realized that neither of us would pass for a Drow. The other two members of the party reached the bottom and, due to clumsiness, drew attention to themselves. I used the distraction to sneak over to the priestesses and bull rush the one right in front of the dragon.
If not for combat advantage (a +2 modifier to my attack roll), I probably would have been the one to end up in the dragon’s mouth. However, I succeeded and the priestess became a snack, breaking the ritual and throwing things into utter chaos.
Had this been a video game, there would have been an invisible wall preventing me from going near the priestesses. See, the DM’s original plan was that we fight a few waves of baddies, each stronger than the last, and reaching the dragon just in time to hear his tale before he died. We messed it up, and he didn’t even miss a bit as he changed the direction of the evening.
I’m not saying this to knock video games. I love them very much. But even in the most open-ended sandbox of a video game, there are certain things that you just can’t do. Those are the things that make tabletop roleplaying so satisfying.