It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He admits that he is a scoundrel, to which Kaylie retorts that he is a scoundrel who has no boundaries and leaves a wake of people hurt. She demands that he draw his blade.
DM: As she goes to strike towards you, even in that moment, her will falters and the blade falls limp. It hits your chest, and you feel the piercing of something pushing into your flesh, but no more than maybe half an inch, as there's no real force behind the blade. As the hand releases her weapon, it clatters to the ground as her momentum carries her arms around your shoulders. As she holds you there, her tousled, short pixie brown hair, you can feel the wetness across the back of your neck, and you hear her voice trembling in your ear say, "Why? Why can't I do it? All the years building up to this and I have the chance, and I can't do it."
Player: I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that you're going through this, and I'm more sorry that you're going through this by yourself, but I think deep down you're a Shorthalt, and there's something that you have that's connected to me and I to you, and perhaps I misread that as some sort of-- ugh-- icky attraction, and I apologize, but I've known for a while now that something is missing in my life, some sort of focus, and some sort of moral compass. Maybe it's just arrived at my doorstep?
DM: You say that and her arms tense for a minute, involuntary, trying to pull you closer, then they relax, and she steps away, averting her gaze, keeping her head down. She bends down and picks up her blade. Doesn't sheathe it, just holds it limply at her side. She begins to walk to the door. She opens the door and looks back at you, her eyes finally meeting yours. You can see the wet stains across her cheeks. "You're still a scoundrel. It's what's kept you alive this long. In some ways, it's what's kept me alive this long. I've got a lot to think about. I'm going to go for a walk. (sighs) I need some fresh air." And she closes the door behind her.
Player: I sit for a moment and think about everything, try to remember more about Sybil.
DM: There's a lot of faces blurring, this is-- You worked your way through a lot of Tal'Dorei in those days, you--
Player: Yes. She was, she was. Yes, I think, yeah. She wasn't that giant. No, she was. Okay. And I have a very restless night thinking about everything.
DM: Okay. And with that, we're going to go ahead and take a bathroom break. We'll be back here in five minutes.
