Last week, I listened as a depleted Gabriel made a startling admission. I'm surprised it took as long as it did, to be honest: for two years he has been codifying the hidden laws of this or that plane, making floating-ass orbs and shit, and generally making other dungeon masters feel bad about the prison gravy they ladle at their own meager tables. It's like, you've got pace yourself, man. These motherfuckers can't be thwarting draconic matriarchs every week. Sometimes they might need to spend a session just opening and closing Tupperware or choosing exactly the right flip-flops.
