Mini-Story -- You Hear Music in the Background...
This is only a scene, created from a writing warm-up excercise that started with the first sentence as a seed crystal. There's actually very little editing; I just had this idea of some young furs playing something like D&D, with one of them trying his hand as Dungeon Master for the first time. I probably made one or two mistakes in how the game itself is run, so forgive me. The first time I played D&D, the entire game came in one 48-page booklet! Had a blue cover, and we only used a small number 6-sided dice -- none of this 20-sided mess! *chuckles* Enjoy the story.
"You hear music in the background."
"What kind of music?"
"Doesn't matter, it's just music."
The young squirrel looked up at the Dungeon Master with faint disgust. "Howie, that's not exactly a very helpful description."
"That's not appropriate in-game."
The squirrel held up his forepaw and crossed his fingers where everyone could see. "Out-of-game. That's a stupid description."
"I really have to agree, Howie." The two mouse brothers, both with crossed fingers held high, were agreeing with the teenaged Dalmatian pup who had spoken, also with raised crossed fingers. "I mean, at least a description of what sort of music - tribal music, rock'n'roll, one singer, an orchestra, what? If it's important enough for you to mention that there's music, then the type of music should be important too."
The teen cat, ears back on his head, eyed the group with something between anger and suspicion. "You guys make me mad enough to spit. Who's the DM here?"
"You are, Howie," the intoned together in exactly the sort of way that they knew would irritate him, grinning while they did it.
The feline didn't spit, which really would have shown poor sportsmanship, but he did provide them with a very juicy raspberry. "Okay, put your hands down; we're all out of game at the moment. Let me see if I can explain to you all exactly where you're going wrong. Start at the beginning. Where are you?"
"The Valley of the Arcane Vowel Sounds," quipped the younger mouse.
Knowing that cooperation would get them farther faster, the squirrel laid a playful back-of-the-head smack on the giggling mouse and said, "The Valley of A-A-Towee is what you called it."
"Good, Jason. Where, specifically?"
"We found a village called Umnaé... I think that's how you spelled it, and we've been invited into the main hut-like building where the village elders have come to ask about us."
"Well done." Howie's tail flashed, somewhere between irritation and anticipation. "During this whole thing, how have they responded?"
"Like interrogators," said the older mouse. "I don't think they trust us. Whoops..." He looked embarrassed. "Was I supposed to roll or something?"
"No, Nick, we're not in game. I'm just trying to get you to figure something out. Maybe it's just too subtle for you all."
"I know we're not in game," the pup said, "but I still think I should roll a bullshit check on that last statement."
"Mind your manners, spotty-boy," Howie said, mostly without meanness. "But in truth, you're a little more on the right track."
"Okay," the pup said. "We're sort of meta-gaming here, but you're trying to make a point. Have I got that right, Howie?"
"Yes."
"So you're giving us a chance to figure out how to play your scenario."
"Well, it's my first time as DM," Howie admitted. He looked down for a second. "Okay, maybe I'm not doing this right, but I still think that this scenario will be more fun if you guys ... well, I drop clues in kind of a strange way."
"This is a clue?" The squirrel's tail flicked the question mark as much as his voice spoke them.
"Why else would I have mentioned it?"
"OOOooh, I get it!" the younger mouse said. "Howie, are you just trying to say that, if you say something in game, it's important?"
The cat grinned. "Philo, if we were in game, I'd give you XP for that insight. I may do it anyway."
"But that's my point," Jason said. "If it's important, then the kind of music should be-"
"Why?"
"Because it would tell us-"
The Dalmatian held up a paw. "Hang on, guys," he said. He looked at Howie. "Can we dip back into the game for a sec?"
Howie graciously waved his paws in answer, his eyes glinting slightly.
"I hear music in the background," the Dalmatian said, somewhat formally. "Unobtrusively, I perform a perception check."
"D-20."
A blackish icosahedron with gold numbers flew a short distance across the table. "18."
Howie nodded. "You realize that you aren't hearing music with your ears." The Dalmatian waited for more, but Howie stopped, smiling. Crossing his fingers, the pup quoted the punchline to an old joke, saying, "You're a mean drunk, Superman." He uncrossed his fingers. "I nudge the elf, signaling that I want him to know what he perceives."
A yellow icosahedron with purple numbers ("That is so gay," Jason whispered) traveled across the table. "17," said Philo.
Howie grinned. "The elf reads the body language of the people in the room; he hears it as you do, but no one else hears the music."
The pup raised his hand with fingers crossed again. "Everyone out-of-game?"
Howie nodded. "You got it."
"And it cost us two perception rolls!"
"Sue me." The cat grinned. "That's what I was trying to get you to figure out, Jason. If something is going on, but I don't say too much about it, maybe you need to be more curious about it." When no one said anything for several seconds, the cat's grin faltered. "Is that being a bad DM, guys?"
"Well, I still want to know what the music is like," Nick said. "But I think I see your point. Guys," he said to his fellow adventurers, "Howie is going to be a stinker. We gotta watch him."
"Okay," Howie said. "I'll see if I can make it a little more detailed."
"So?" asked Philo. He spread his arms, excited. "What's the music like?"
"One more squeak out of you," said the Dungeon Master, "and it'll be Justin Bieber!"