In reply to Van Caldwell (msg # 36):
I am certainly willing to take your word for it. Experienced players, particularly ones who GM a lot all know half the fun of the game are the bad rolls.
Harry is a simple man. He's sworn a vow of marriage to his wife and has never strayed. He considers that he took a vow to perform his duties as a night watchman faithfully and has done so for several years. The only oath he's ever broken was when he was eight years old and promised his dad he wouldn't play near the street but did. A car hit him, and he spent months in a cast.
You come down to the second floor. Once again, it's that rectangular hallway around the perimeter. As you come around the corner, you see the lights in one office are on. The door is wide open and someone has turned a radio on in the room.
Looking through, you are greeted with a gruesome sight.
A young man in his twenties is tied to a chair. Someone removed his shirt and took a belt or whip or something similar to him. They took off his shoes and stuffed his rolled up socks into his mouth to keep him quiet while they tortured him. He still seems to be alive. He's breathing in hoarse gasps through his nose. Sitting on his lap is what has to be the bomb. It looks like a box alarm with several sticks of dynamite attached to it.
On the far wall, someone has spray painted a poem by Frost:
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.