Give me some of your examples for hits and kill descriptions...

Give me some of your examples for hits and kill descriptions. I need some more variety than "You sprayed it's [insert specific inner organs] over the wall"

Go find the Rolemaster Critical Hit Table Compendium. You will never need for a critical hit description for any type of attack ever again.

You hit his stomach, and pushed his bowels out. The smell of shit is everywhere

I don't have a list off the top of my head, but one kill description that I remember that I'm most proud of is "his body hits the ground and splatters like a garbage bag full of beef stew"

ooohh, nasty

>Bard casts Bonefiddle
>As the shrill music begins to build towards the crescendo, a staccato series of wet cracks issue out from the man's spine to form an appropriate accompaniment, only sullied by the man's unasked for screams of agony.

>you swing your sword around in an arc over your head and down across its chest. As it lifts its hands to block your assault, you carve both off at the wrist, setting a gout of blood spraying from each stump, before thrusting your weapon through its chest
>You run your sword into its gut up to the hilt. It bares its teeth at you and you can feel its spittle on your cheeks, before its face goes slack and it slumps to the ground, still impaled
>You smack it in the face with your shield, and it stumbles backwards, dazed
>You bring your hammer down on its collar bone with a sickening crunch
>You bring your collar bone down on its hammer with a sickening crunch
>You lift your weapon, and set to work. When the red haze clears, you find you've made a mess of its insides all over the floor. And the walls. And yourself. And the ceiling. Guts dropping to the floor in your peripheral vision suggest that you might have decided to redecorate the hallway outside as well.

Read Homer. The Iliad will both lift your soul and give you some of the most badass death-lines ever written.

"The son of Telamon now struck him under the ear with a spear which he then drew back again, and Imbrius fell headlong as an ash-tree when it is felled on the crest of some high mountain beacon, and its delicate green foliage comes toppling down to the ground."

"He was longing to strike down Idomeneus, but ere he could do so Idomeneus smote him with his spear in the throat under the chin, and the bronze point went clean through it. He fell as an oak, or poplar, or pine which shipwrights have felled for ship's timber upon the mountains with whetted axes- even thus did he lie full length in front of his chariot and horses, grinding his teeth and clutching at the bloodstained dust."

"He crouched under cover of this, and the spear flew over him, but the shield rang out as the spear grazed it, and the weapon sped not in vain from the strong hand of Deiphobus, for it struck Hypsenor son of Hippasus, shepherd of his people, in the liver under the midriff, and his limbs failed beneath him."

"...he could neither go back nor to one side, but stood stock still like pillar or lofty tree when Idomeneus struck him with a spear in the middle of his chest. The coat of mail that had hitherto protected his body was now broken, and rang harshly as the spear tore through it. He fell heavily to the ground, and the spear stuck in his heart, which still beat, and made the butt-end of the spear quiver till dread Mars put an end to his life."

One of our guys literally pancaked a kobold with the amount of damage he plowed him with in one turn

>First hammer swing the lizard buckles like a bent can, already dead but considerably shorter and wider
>Next swing almost flattens him
>Just to finish up he keeps swinging to the top and sides to get a clean flat stain made
>The last thing to be crushed are the eyes, sitting on a sludge of green and red. Those too are quickly flattened
>All this in his first combat round

Needless to say, his "underlings" quickly decided to surrender

You hit them and they keel over, dead.

>A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust forth, sending a steel shod blade to the hilt into the soldiers vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.

>Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach with both hands Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast, removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast. Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his righthand over its frothing face, contrcting his fingers into a vice-like fist over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the rat, grignr flexed his outstretched arms while slowly twisting his right hand clockwise and his left hand counter clockwise motion. The rodent let out a tortured squall, drawing scarlet as it violently dug its foam flecked fangs into the barbarians sweating palm, causing his face to contort to an ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his braeth.

you sure you shouldn't be purpletexting instead of green?

I improv all of them but there was once an Ogre who was killed by a charging Barbarian with the damage being so over the Ogre's HP that the barbarian was described to have ran and then cut through the ogre and ended up on the other side similar to Kid Goku punching through demon king piccolo

Sometimes to create a sense of viatey in combat, I will provide psedo-featutres. Say the characters are fighting a suit of armor. I can describe it lifting one of the players up and punching, and the next time a player attacks it, the armor drops the character. For all they know, the character could have been grappled, but instead they focus on the feel of the combat instead of just rolling numbers.

>it’s a god thing you’re not a (doctor), because if you were than that would mean you would need to fix the mess you just made. And you have no idea how to do that.
>I mean one of his wrists is snapped backwards and a 280 degree angle, his neck is inside out, you’re pretty sure that the heart doesn’t go below the knees, both feet appear to be missing and all the blood appears to be missing.

>oh and their skull is shattered into so many pieces you don’t think you could ever find them all

>The blast blows creature's head clean off. The remaining body stands for a while, dumbfounded, before falling to the ground.
>You deal definitive blow and the foe drops like marionette with its strings cut
>You charge in and deal a powerful vertical strike, bisecting the undead, of which halves fall down with a loud thump
>Your weapon impales the enemy. As he tries to grasp the blade and pull it out, you see his last helpless glance before he goes limp.
>The panicked foe tries to avoid your strikes, but eventually fails. A horrible cracking noise is heard when your mace connects and his skull is squished like a bug.

I GMed for the first time earlier this summer in a oneshot. The party was fighting a couple of renegade town guards in a crowd of half insane peasants rioting (evil sorcerer shenagins) occasionally a commoner would take a swing at the party or the guards, the warlock decided to cast an AoE spell of eldritch tentacles or something that dealt necrotic damage and I'm satisfied with how I described it. Something to the like of.

>The witch raises her gnarled totem and voice. An appeal to an insidious ally. Blackness washes over the pitted cobblestones as unspeakable appendages of all variety claw forth. Life wanes in their grasp withering flesh first before liquefying into a septic sludge. The rambunctious crowd is gagged silent by the grasp of demons. Any trace of plumpness in their features is stolen by the dark magic. The moment of chaos passes leaving little more than black bile and half melted bones.

>they only had 4 HP a piece

I describe barehanded critical attacks
>You bring your fist from low up into the archer's bottom jaw, striking with such force that his head rattles back and forward into your fist. So you've basically punched him twice with a single blow. That's where your extra critical die comes from, [Monk Player].

>With a flash of pale steel, the cruel edge of your blade performs it's sole duty, and as quickly as it passes betwixt your foe's mortal coil, it just as quickly turns your foe into a ghost.

>Your blade sweeps down in one, violent swing, like a guillotine blade. You hear a sickening snap, followed by the wet sound of a ripe fruit being split, and then a sound similar to water spilling from a broken coconut. You need not look back to understand the results of your strike.

>The sound of bone, sinew, muscle and flesh being reduced to fluid beneath the tyrannical march of your hammer is almost as comforting as the realization that you no longer need fear for your life, as puddles of gore are rarely capable of endangering you.

>Your weapon drives deep into your foe's bowels, emerging outside of the anus. (roll) 1d6 chunks of feces fall out, shit smearing on the edge of your blade.

Then rising, on his utmost stretch he stood,
And aim'd from high: the full descending blow
Cleaves the broad front and beardless cheeks in two.
Down sinks the giant with a thund'ring sound:
His pond'rous limbs oppress the trembling ground;
Blood, brains, and foam gush from the gaping wound:
Scalp, face, and shoulders the keen steel divides,
And the shar'd visage hangs on equal sides

Dryden would have been a fun DM.