Every table has one. You know the player. They roll up a wizard, they put the best score into Intelligence, and they walk away with a whopping four hit points and a spellbook full of dreams. I have watched that wizard get sneezed on by a goblin and go down. I have watched that wizard get startled by a bat. I once watched a wizard fall off a stool that he was standing on to cast a spell, and I’m not talking about in the game. I mean the actual stool, in my actual dining room. I love that guy. I will always love that guy. Here’s why. The wizard…

Let me tell you about the shortest heroic career in the history of my gaming table. It lasted eleven minutes. It ended with a door. Back when I was a younger and dumber Dungeon Master, a friend rolled up a gnome fighter named Thorgrim Skullsplitter. Thorgrim stood about three feet tall. His battle axe was nearly as long as he was, and he had to drag it behind him like a kid hauling a Christmas tree. He gave a speech at the dungeon entrance about glory, honor, and the blood of his enemies. The rest of the party nodded politely. The cleric looked a little worried. Then Thorgrim charged the…