It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, There were also four books, which he looks through: a study of alchemical compounds on corrupted plants, a record of public debate in Zeidel regarding experimentation on prisoners from Ghor Dranas, a discussion of theories on the ice fields of Eiselcross (a land mass north of Wildemount), and a spellbook. The party regather on the ship and head for the Gravid Archipelago.
DM: They start diminishing the presence of the regular sails and getting smaller, more durable sails pulled up in there.
Player: I pay attention.
DM: You're probably helping them with it. It's an all hands on deck thing to get this going quickly. With that, they begin to pull the sails into place. The wind immediately picks up again once the sails are back in, and the wind is starting to pick up a bit heavily. You see Orly glancing over the edge, his large shell slick with rain smattering against the backside of it, as he turns around towards you and looks at you through the darkness, the little bit of light there is from oil lanterns being held across the deck. Goes, "Captain, I think we're heading into a proper storm."
Player: Damn, could you be more ominous, Orly? Were you trying? I think he was trying.
DM: (more ominous) "Captain, we're heading into a proper storm."
Player: That was good. I think that was pretty good.
DM: "Smartass."
