It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Mollymauk Tealeaf, a tiefling blood hunter . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, You began to look throughout the room. You found a sword across the upper ceiling, an ornamental blade of some kind.
DM: You have darkvision, so as both you and Jester glance inside, you can see there is a small five foot by five foot chamber inside, where there are a number of pots and small cases. It was a small burial chamber of some kind. There in the center, you see this large urn, about a foot and a half wide, squat, a dull gray color. You have no color depth in this darkness, unfortunately, with your darkvision, but it's this very squat, well-made vase or urn of some kind.
Player: Mm-hmm. Two shots.
DM: You're having to put your arm through and swing towards it, so disadvantage on each strike.
Player: All right. First one is 13 to hit.
DM: 13 just barely hits, but it's a hardy urn. We'll see how much damage you deal.
Player: That's eight points of damage.
DM: Eight points of damage. You make impact, and you see a part of it crack from the blow, but it's not enough to shatter it.
Player: I'm taking another swing.
DM: As you pull it out and jam the other arm in to go for a straight strike with your scimitar.
Player: That's 17 to hit.
DM: 17 hits. Roll damage.
Player: That's five points of damage.
DM: As you reach through, you feel the urn break beneath the blow. There's this moment of silence as you hear this (low gasp) dully filter out. The entity slowly shifts from the ceiling as you watch it disintegrate. Not vanishing like it did before, but slowly dissipating. Its form suddenly goes from extremely menacing to almost sad, as you watch it turn to nothingness.
