Dealing With META Gamers...

While Angora and the two dwarves, Gimlet and Groin, battle slavers on a barge in the harbour, Eggolas and Bore'me wait for a contact in a pub on the other side of town. Since the DM is trying to follow a standard time scale for the adventure, their storyline cannot advance until after the combat is over. They've been there a while now, and Eggolas is starting to get bored.

[On a barge in the harbour...]
DM: We'll start round three just as soon as Gimlet posts his next action.
Groin: Ah, one more good hit and that slaver should be toast! Come on, Gimlet! Of course, that still leaves five more thugs to deal with...

[In a pub on the other side of town...]
DM: Meanwhile, back at the pub, Eggoless and Bore'me are still waiting for their contact. He appears to be running late.
Eggoless: Gosh, I wonder how our companions are doing. I hope they didn't get into any trouble! Maybe we should go look for them?
Bore'me: Ummm... let's just wait for our contact to arrive.
Eggoless: Yeah, alright. So... I understand you're opposed to slave trading! How did that come about?
Bore'me: What? Oh, I guess I am. It's something my religion is diametrically opposed to, anyway.
Eggoless: I bet there is a slave-trading business here in town. We should go try to break it up.
DM: Eggoless, just to be clear, you don't know anything about what is going on with Angora, Gimlet, and Groin. As far as you know, they're meeting with a silk trader to try and get some information about the spy.
Eggoless: No, I know. I was just role-playing!
DM: Ok, then. Just making sure. Please tread this path carefully.
Eggoless: So, Bore'me, we should go check out the docks and see if there is any slave-trading activity going on! Your gods would appreciate the gesture! What do you say?
DM: You shouldn't do that. There are other gods who get upset when you interfere with things that don't concern you.
Eggoless: Eggoless gets up from the table, asks the bartender where the docks are, and then leaves the pub and heads in that direction.
Bore'me: Bore'me stays in his chair and waits for the contact to arrive.
DM: *sigh* Eggoless, you get fairly clear directions from the bartender as to where the docks are. It will take you at least 30 minutes to get there from the pub. Are you sure you want to follow this path?
Eggoless: Yep! I'm going to try and find the rest of the party to see if they need any help and try to break up any slave-trading rings I come across in the process.

[On the cobbled streets, just outside the pub...]
DM: Eggoless, as you step outside, you notice the clouds darken overhead and a high-pitched whistling noise assaults your sensitive elven hearing. You make it 10 yards down the street before a fiery rain of fist-sized meteors starts crashing into the cobblestones around you. You could probably still make it back into the pub at this point. What do you do?
Eggoless: I'll continue to the docks.
DM: So be it... Please make a saving throw vs. death.
Eggoless: [rolls] Ummm... I got a 1.
DM: Upon taking your next step towards the docks, a meteor the size of a hamhock strikes you in the right shoulder, tearing through your collarbone and down the right side of your body, completely severing your arm and removing most of your right leg. The heat of the meteor cauterizes the wounds, so you are still conscious as you collapse to the ground. Before you pass out, you get a glimpse of the meteor, half-buried in the street next to you. Your eyes focus on it and you can make out the following four characters carved into the rock in elven - M E T A. As you ponder the meaning of the letters, your world goes black.

[Meanwhile, down at the docks...]
Gimlet: I'll hit the slaver with my axe.
Angora: You hit it with your axe?