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PEARLS OF WISDOM FROM THE VENERABLE MAGE
RAMNEE OF ORLANE
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as penned by PhilJ
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Concerning the Bitter Taste of Defeat
I suddenly realised that my punishment was worse than that of Judas Iscariot, imprisoned forever in a
block of ice in the ninth circle of hell, and that I was utterly and dreadfully alone in the midst of
a godless, hopeless and uncaring universe, screaming forever in the midst of a cold, grey void...
Still, you've got to laugh haven't you?
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Concerning the Force of Nature Known as Liam Gallagher
Liam Gallagher, bless him...err, I'm sure he's a very nice man, and good to his mam and all that, but,
let's face it, I don't think he could chew gum and walk at the same time, although, to be fair he's a
dab hand at boozing, swearing, taking drugs, farting, belching etc., and does have a splendid set of
eyebrows...
In this months 'Mojo' (the rock mag for the discerning sad old thirtysomething), he challenges George
Harrison, Paul McCartney and Mick Jagger to a fight, for daring to slag off the new Oasis album.
Even stupider, he also offers to beat the crap out of Keith Richards : KEITH RICHARDS!!! The man Saddam
Hussein described as 'that scary bastard..'
None of the above explains why :-
a) he is married to Patsy Kensit, and
b) almost every single female I know wants to shag his brains out
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Concerning the Party Fuck Ups
Agreed. Do you *really* have to ask?
1) In what sort of campaign does overhearing a conversation in a toilet count as the main part of the
adventure? Perhaps we should have twigged this...!
2) Distressing lack of party unity ie. propensity of certain party members to make fun of others, who
then react with violence, which then escalates into the whole stilletos-magic missile conflagration...
3) Distressing amount of trust in the paladin by the rest of the party. Why did we think we could destroy
that bar, give people life-threatening injuries, and nick all the takings and then say 'But Sir Percy said
it would be alright...!'
4) Distressing naivety by the paladin in not seeing the consequences of starting a bar-room brawl with a
party of neurotics, dope-heads and small-time crooks...
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Concerning General Role-Playing
A few more points on basic etiquette :-
1) It is not manly for your character to be Lawful Good
2) It is not manly for your character to carry small pointy weapons (stillettos, needleguns etc.)
3) It is not manly for your character to spend the party's money on aftershave.
4) It is not manly for your character not to drink the strongest ale available in a pub.
5) It is not manly for your character not to eat the hottest curry available.
Also note that Sukh applies points(4) and (5) in Real Life as well...
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Concerning Critical Hits
Imagine the scene :-
Merlin(Sukh, awe-struck, affecting a Cornish accent) : 'You have broken - that which could not *be*
broken...!'
Arthur(PhilJ) surveys the bloodied body of Lancelot (PJ) and the broken Excalibur : 'This good and
honourable knight...should have won...' (hurls the remains of the sword into the lake).
All watch as the shape of Rod begins to take form, under the surface of the lake...
Sukh : 'The DM of the Lake...'
The sword rises, whole, to the surface in Rod's arm...
Sukh : 'Take it...Take it!!'
PhilJ wades out. He reaches to set his hand upon Excalibur...
The DM rolls percentiles. He rolls a 01.
Rod knees PhilJ in the 'nads and laughs horribly as the sword breaks into a zillion pieces, and the DM
of the Lake fades from view...
Is it just me, or does the above lack the impact of the original...?
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Concerning Rod's Stag Weekend Parte 3
It was a time of violent and copious vomiting...
So in the Hotel de Luxe, everyone awakes feeling refreshed and happy. Apart from myself, who has a small
Frenchman playing the cymbals in my head. Still feel *incredibly* stoned! Incapable of showering or shaving,
or indeed of paying the hotel bill. People remind me of the amusing Joint incident. Rod settles the bill on
my behalf (cheers Rod, I'll settle with you next week. Oh yeah, PJ, the cheque is in the post). So I huddle
in the hotel lobby, while everyone tells me how bad I look...
Dave Bell flees back to Switzerland. Wisely.
In the Steaming Pit From Hell, the lads are awoken to the soothing sounds of The Incredible Wanking Tramp
and his beloved Wheelie Bin...
Rod has not eaten due to the unfortunate mix-up with room service
He needs a fuck-off-big-T-bone steak. Right now. And not just from any place. No, it *has* to be the one
where Tony ate an entire cows arse the night before. Which is a *long* feckin' walk. So we walk across
Amsterdam, drop Rod off at the eatery, and go to the pub. I figure a nice La Trappe Dubbel will set me up
for the day. I order a random selection of beers - perhaps I even ordered the right number this time, but,
then again, maybe I didn't...
Rod returns, the smile of a contented man on his face. Although Tony insists his steak was bigger.
Rod, Tony and myself decide to stay for MORE BEER. The rest of the guys head off for some more smokes. A
few beers later, I start to feel a little...unwell. The bog suddenly seems an awful long way away. I stagger
up the stairs, I'm going to make it...!
Fuck. There's someone in the cubicle. This would not bother Rod, who has made use of the toilets with the
'Damen' sign on the door on at least two occasions, but, dammit, I have standards to maintain. So I decide
that a cigarette will calm my stomach...
...Ten minutes later, Tony bangs on the door to enquire as to my state of health. My reply is
'BWAARRRFFFFFF...down in a HEEEURRGGGHHH minute'.
So I decide I need a beer to settle my stomach.
The lads arrive back from their smoke. They are suitably sympathetic.
But alas, time is flying, as is my brain, and we make our way back to the airport. The journey back, for
me at least, is a little - fragmentary. Final beer experience of Holland is half a rancid Heineken in the
airport bar. Sukh buys me a nice cigar, cheers dude. Fall asleep on plane, gently decanted out the other
end. Barbara and Claire are waiting. Babs comments that I look worse than Rod...
So, Tony, Rod, Babs, and myself are off to The George! Where we are met by Sean! Yes, Mr Tour-de-France has
made it with only 2 hours to spare. More beers are called for. I ain't really in the mood so Rod helps me
out, cheers dude. Sean comments that I look worse than Rod. I catch site of my reflection in a mirror. I
look like the Picture of Dorian Gray.
We leave at about midnight. I'm up the stairs, I'm into bed, decent night's kip at last...
So there we go. I think I discharged my best-manly duties admirably - I ate for Rod, I drank for Rod, and,
of course, I threw up for Rod. Sadly, I could not bring myself to watch 'Bugs' for Rod...
Incidently, woke up this morning and felt reasonably un-stoned for the first time in about 72 hours.
And I, for one, am thoroughly looking forward to the wedding...
Phil 'Mr Tripod' J
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| BACK TO THE REALM OF GREYHAWK |
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