It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, One of them breaks his ankle and the other slams his hip into the ground, both falling prone. As the guards run out the door, Trinket claws at the one that Vex'ahlia had marked, causing him to cry out in pain.
DM: 24, yeah. You leap in the air (whoosh) like slow-motion (whoosh, explosion) down on top. Go ahead and roll three attacks on him.
Player: Amazing, that's 27. That's 26.
DM: Roll damage on those.
Player: Okay, not a problem. Ten, 19, 29 on the first one.
DM: 29 on the first one? Okay.
Player: And 28 on the second one.
DM: So as you come down, the hammer blow slams into his torso, his actual metal armor crinks inward, and he goes, (screams) gasping in pain, as you've now jammed his own ribs into his internal organs. As you pull the hammer up with a sludgy, sucking sound you see him look at you with this look of, "No!" and the hammer comes down again. This time on top of his head, which, Gallagher watermelon, just (boosh) across the floor of this. Done, you look over at his friend, who is like, (gasps) trying to back up with his broken ankle. With your third attack, he's within your range.
