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, From the sidelines, Scanlan yells inspiration at you and Cutting Words at Kern. Keyleth attempts to heal you from a distance, but gets caught by a nearby Bastion.
DM: No. (whoosh) Parries it to the side after the first impact sets his jaw off to the side again. (crack) Snaps it back into place.
Player: Last one?
DM: Last one.
Player: Since I'm standing and I probably whiffed, I see that knee that I've been working on, and I throw my heel out and try and pop it in.
DM: Okay.
Player: Yes! 27.
DM: 27 does hit. Go ahead and roll damage.
Player: Eight.
DM: Eight. All right. You go forward and (pop) your foot finds the side of the knee, and the knee this time buckles under the weight (cracking) off to the side. Kern falls onto one knee, puts both hands out on the ground, and (coughing) coughs up this sputtering puddle of blood that then spills out on the ground. Kern looks like that blow is about to knock Kern over to the side, but Kern sits there and tenses his muscles. His head whips up at you, and that orcish glare, that sheer focus of fury that you saw once before, is holding him on the edge. Kern looks up at you. "No, this is my town!" (roars) and leaps up at you with a flurry of an extremely desperate half-orc. First strike comes at you. That is a 22 to hit.
Player: Hits.
DM: That is a 27 to hit.
Player: Hits.
DM: And natural 20. (groaning) First strike is ten points of damage.
Player: Ten points. Okay.
DM: Next one is eight points of damage.
Player: Okay.
DM: Last one which is eight, six, 14 points of damage.
Player: Right, okay.
DM: What are you at?
