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An experience that withholds its meaning from you, refuses to be interpreted, but gently leads you to interpret yourself. Play it with your date if you have one, or a dear friend if you don't
[bob dylan writing the second coming]
Oh the falcon, he's a-turnin'
Round an round this widenin' gy-arr
He cannot hear the falc'ner, no sir!
And the center can't be holdin'
Random encounters in RPG's are only boring and disruptive to "the story" if you have a pre-determined concept of what the story is, and are keeping it hermetically sealed from any narrative contamination.
I see the carpenter ants have been hard at work returning the old shoe shop to whence it came. Another hundred years or so and I think they'll have got it.
Evenings, half the whole world is wending its way (I seem to think) to Thornwick Town, and mornings out the other end they go like spores from a crushed fungus.