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Deodorising books

8th May 2008 (16:05)

Heading into the city for my weekly lunch with my friend and old gamer buddy, I was a bit early, so I stopped by the game store. Looking at the second-hand shelf, I saw that someone had cleared out their early 80s collection. There was RuneQuest, old D&D modules, the lot. And there was also Aftermath, which I happily snagged for $15.

On getting home and sliding the books out of their plastic covers, I found that the previous owner had been a chronic smoker, the books have a real stench of old, stale, dead tobacco. There's also a hint of body odour - just a hint, the dead tobacco dominates.

I find myself looking over at the bookshelf at the scented oil burner and thinking of giving the books a good splash in the inside spine. Any suggestions on deodorising books?

Just Speculatin'

29th April 2008 (13:51)

And so it begins...



Having finished Fourth Tiwesdæg, it was time for a new campaign. Last night we settled on Just Speculatin',

I wonder what it's like to have an impartial media?

28th April 2008 (17:37)

No use asking the USA, apparently :)

Courtesy of the Daily Show, the hard questions asked of McCain.

Geeks who really need a father figure

23rd April 2008 (15:15)

... who can say "NO!" and whack them on the back of the head.

As seen here, a lonely geek goes up to chixxorz at cons and asks to squeeze their boobs. Some, perhaps high on too much Mountain Dew and late-night CCG games, say "yes". Dude starts a whole "wear a button" thing at the Con.

Seriously, this is a boy who was not beaten enough as a child.

Creepy fatbeards. Helping the gamer image at your local con!

Adventure!

15th April 2008 (09:59)

"What boy has not sighed for the good old days of wars, revolutions, and riots; how I used to pore over the chronicles of those old days, those dear old days, when workmen went armed to their labors; when they fell upon one another with gun and bomb and dagger, and the streets ran red with blood! Ah, but those were the times when life was worth the living; when a man who went out by night knew not at which dark corner a "footpad" might leap upon and slay him; when wild beasts roamed the forest and the jungles, and there were savage men, and countries yet unexplored."

- ER Burroughs, The Lost Continent (1916)

And this is why we roleplay. But no authour would scribe such words today.

Gygax Memorial Game

7th April 2008 (09:12)

The game was played, and much beer (thanks, Colin!) and pizza and junk food (thanks, everyone!) was consumed.

We had as best I remember,

  • Colin playing Jack the Thief, then Perrin the Fighter, and lastly Snipe the Thief
  • Phill playing Llihp the Elven Magic-User
  • Emil playing Eric the Communist (Lawful Evil) Magic-User, then Son of Eric the Communist (LE) Fighter/Magic-User/Cleric, and lastly MacEric the Communist (LE) Assassin
  • Shane playing Fang the Inconsequential a half-elven Fighter/Cleric
  • Matt playing Biffo the Meat Shield, a Half-Orc Fighter, then Durin the Elven Fighter
  • everyone was 1st level, and apart from Emil's communists was Chaotic Neutral. Only Durin was female, the rest male.
The PCs found themselves in the Village of Bob. Naked but for loincloths and their coinpurses and sharing a free ale - "First ale free to adventurers!" they met in the Inn of the Welcome Wench and decided to adventure together. They went next door to Marx the Moneychanger, who was also Marx the General Store Manager, and got clothes, armour and so on. They were surprised to discover that Engels used a different exchange rate from one type of coin to another than that they were used to (the book said 20SP = 1GP, 10GP = 1PP, while Engels said it was all 10:1), but Moneychanger Marx explained that the people own the means of production anyway so they shouldn't worry about it.
Then they went back to the inn and started drinking, and were met by Mayor Engels. He explained that outside the town was a cemetary, and a great old mausoleum where the notables of the town had been buried for centuries. "But recently a great evil sorceror moved in and set up shop, he's started animating the dead and even invited in some kobolds and reckons he'll build an empire. Apparently he thinks that he's reached "lord level", whatever that means, and wants to build a stronghold and clear the surrounding terrain of peasants."

"Why doesn't your own village deal with him? Marx the Moneychanger has heaps of weapons."

"We tried. This village of 150 people used to be a town of 600. Sometimes people have gone in and then a day later their swords and stuff appear out the front entrance, as though the dungeon - er, mausoleum - ate them and belched up their stuff. Also sometimes we see old family members as zombies and we think it's them as skeletons."

"What do we get if we wipe him and his minions out?"

"Well, the dead are often buried with much treasure. Normally if you take it you defile their graves and are cursed by the Gods, but they're already hopelessly defiled since they're his undead servants, so whatever you find you can keep. Also you will have the everlasting gratitude of the villagefolk, and will be famed and glorified."

"We're not so keen on the everlasting gratitude, but fame and loot sound nice."

So off they went, and into the mausoleum...

But since nobody ever reads these play reports, I won't go on, except to say that five PCs in one session is four more PCs than I've killed as a GM since all this Game Circle business started a couple of years back. Mad stuff.

Kickarse Play of the Day probably goes to Emil, who with Eric the Commie Mage slain by a skeleton, returned with Son of Eric the Commie Fighter/Mage, arriving as the PCs were meeting the mummy, turned the mummy - since he was Lawful Evil, he was thus befriending him - but then on finding the rest of the party was hitting the mummy, flung a flask of oil, then cast Burning Hands, the 1 hit point of damage of which did not do much by itself, but set the mummy alight. Enranged that his "friend" would set him on fire, the mummy swiped at Son of Eric, crushing his chest and breaking his neck. But then the mummy fell over and burned down into ashes.  Thus Son of Eric had a short life but an effective one, he gave his life so that others might loot.

[A|State] A daft evening with a half-brick in a sock

1st April 2008 (09:45)

So! Last night with Olive absent due to having got in from his flight at some ungodly hour of the morning, and Matt absent due to being on the phone with a real estate agent to buy a house in some dreadfully bleak part of the country (Mildura), it seemed better to set aside Tiwesdæg for the session, and play a one-off instead.

Colin had with him on his little memory stick A|State (light version here) an rpg of a Dickensian cyberpunk world - though without much cyber.


I think there were more dogs and old newspapers

This ridiculous system was point-buy, but we made it random to get into it quick. Aron played Johnathan, ill-educated thug, gas fitter, amateur theologian and thug. Also a thug. I played Jack, the spineless academic armed with his wits and a half-brick in a sock, though brilliant he was horribly disfigured by looking as though he were a Down's Syndrome sufferer and worse, with a mullet!


Johnathan was clad in a shiny ankle-length dogskin coat, and disappointingly carried not twins but only one katana, but also had a small revolver. Jack was clad in a cheap dogskin coat and cheap clothes and one shilling tie, looking like a pimp.

They ventured forth to pay Jack's library fine so he could graduate from university. Along the way they enjoyed a breakfast of dog kebab. They took the train, which was smelly and dirty, someone left the train door open, Johnathan rose to close it, and was accosted by a mugger who demanded his money. Jack approached with his half-brick in a sock and smacked the mugger over the back of the head, who reacted by collapsing with a groan. The two friends then removed the mugger's coat while the train patrons pointedly looked away. As they got off at the next stop, they tossed five shillings to the crowd to make them accomplices and keep them quiet. The coat proved to contain many shillings from less bold mugging victims and some lint.

They changed trains and arrived at the university about lunchtime. There they bumped into their friend Micky, who was sweating and worried because his old man a fisherman had been smacked over, "who could have done this? Help me find him." Astounded by the irony of fate, that a plot hook would come from a fisherman, the two set off to help out. They took the barge this time, and disappointed the bargeman by not engaging in witty repartee with him. They snooped around the fisherman's shack and found that a fancy strongbox was missing, and that the whole interior was visible from a spot across the canal.

"Does he have any enemies? Anyone out to get him? Perhaps from across the canal?"
"Only that crazy old man Jerry, rants and raves. We haven't seen him about for a bit though."
"Where can we find him?"
"Dunno, ask Terry, he sells watches and things over there."

The two went across the canal and found Terry, who told them old Jerry had died a few weeks back. They asked if he'd seen a strongbox, he said, "Oh yes I bought one and then sold it, I bought it from a guy with a hat and this coloured blanket over him, you'll find him in the market."

They went to the market and saw no such bloke, on returning to Terry they found him having legged it with all his dodgy merchandise. They grabbed a kid passing.
"You know Terry?"
"Yep."
"He's buggered off. Where does he live?"
"I don't know, guv. But I know someone who might know, I can point him out to you."
"Show us, then."
"I'd like to, guv, but thing is it's rather cold and I've got no shoes, I've got to find myself some new shoes."
"Would two shillings help keep you warm?"
"That they would, guv," he said, quickly pocketing them.

Off they went to the market again, and the kid pointed out a curly red-headed bloke. They thanked the kid and went and accosted the redhead.
"Hello there," said Johnathan, "We're looking for something - a strongbox?"
"A what? Er, I suppose I could get one for you. I'm someone who gets things."
"So we heard. We're looking for a particular one, though. One that went missing from a humble fisherman's shack recently."
"What? Oh bugger, this is about Terry, innit? He's the sod you want."
"Take us to him." Johnathan gestured with his pistol in his pocket.
"Alright, alright. But what's that in your pocket? You don't look glad to see me. We can make this a business arrangement."
"Just show us." The PCs had a strange urge propelling them forward to deal with these events quickly, perhaps it was because their guiding spirits saw that it was 10:30pm already and the GM wanted to go home.
"Look, I've got two of my blokes here in the crowd watching us, so don't try anything. Now we can do this friendly, or -" he raised his fist to strike at Johnathan, and quick as a whip, Jack knocked him in the goolies with his half-brick in a sock. To everyone's surprise the redhead stayed standing, though he was crouched over a bit and not happy.

A general melee ensued, scrappy and messy, which was resolved by Johnathan drawing his sword. The redhead's two goons backed off, and the redhead said, "there's no need for that, let's go," and off they went to Terry.

They found Terry in a scungy little dosshouse with all his stolen goods, which they promptly stole from him at swordpoint. All up the takings were thirty-five pounds, and a big stash of drugs. "And don't nick nothin' from any of our mates again!"

All-in-all, a fun session. The details of the system remain vague to us, I think it was percentile, and that a half-brick in a sock is the most deadly weapon known to man. Colin did very well, put on the spot like that, but came up with the goods - that's the true spirit of being a GM.

Apparently, LJ is changing some rules and procedures...

20th March 2008 (23:04)

...and some people have said this is grotesque and intolerable oppression.

When they came for the Jews, I said:




Shabbat shalom, motherfuckers!

That's the Hebrew Hammer, to you, LJ drama queens!

Gygax Memorial Game, 1200h 06Apr2008

7th March 2008 (13:10)

I'd already been planning an AD&D1e game around 1st April, as that's my quarter century anniversary of roleplaying. So as I just told interested gamers in my town, this is what we have,

  • game on Sunday 6th April, from noon onwards
  • for players, we have as definites:- Aron, Colin, Emil, Kiwinik and Matt. Room for more! It's Old Skool, remember.
  • the rules will be AD&D1e.
  • house rules are
    • random rolls taken in order for character generation
    • a large team of grey faceless adventurers waits outside while the PCs go in, so if your character dies, roll up another one and they walk straight in
    • play continues until a TPK or the adventure is completed!
  • as a scenario, either S2 White Plume Mountain or C2 The Ghost Tower of Inverness - please tell me if you're planning to come, and have played either of these.
  • around 6pm we order pizza
  • bring munchies!
Also, as Melan of therpgsite said,

"How many people could say that they impacted the lives of millions without bloodshed, political power or a global marketing machine - just a small game of gelatinous cubes, strange dice and 10' corridors? Gary did it just like this, and he did it out of his humble game room in Wisconsin. The context makes it all the more remarkable."

Intro to my next campaign, maybe

6th March 2008 (18:32)

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