It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Tiberius rejoins the party at this point, still bestial. Lady Briarwood extends Percy a sarcastic invitation to visit his family at their home and Vex is able to hit her with an explosive arrow, launching shrapnel from the carriage.
DM: 11? So half that, six damage to each. She needs to make a concentration check. Advantage on that for war caster. Yeah, that's a 19. Okay. So (explosion), a portion of the outside of the carriage just blows apart. Wood shrapnel goes flying to each other side. As the smoke settles and the explosion, you can see, both Lord and Lady Briarwood are still standing there, seemingly unscathed by the event. She wraps her arms around him and whispers in his ear, "It's all right." And they both (whoosh) vanish in a swirl of arcane energy. You don't recognize it because right now you don't have the intelligence to really--
Player: I want to walk over to the carriage driver.
DM: You walk over to the carriage driver, who is currently on the ground, this young man who's horribly hurt, part of his torso is burned, and he's like, (coughs, grunts). Trying to climb away. (gasping) "Please, please spare my life, please. What do you want from me?" (labored breathing)
Player: What do you know?
DM: "About what?"
Player: I shoot him in the right hand.
DM: (gunshot, screams) It's an easy enough hit, he's prone before you. Three of his fingers are blown off, and the bloody stumps. (gasps, grunts) Shaking. (panting) "I'm sorry. I don't-- look-- "
Player: You're from Whitestone, yes?
DM: "I am. You don't know what it's like. I had no choice."
Player: Well, you do now. I reload again and put it on his left hand.
DM: "Please don't, please." The rest of you are gathered, and you step out from the edge of the window and make your way with the rest of the crowd, and they're watching this display on the front of the palace.
