Overheard in Guild Voice Chat
We were adventuring in the Obelisk of Akhz'ul yesterday when this conversation took place:
Phritz: Hey, what was that cloud that just went up, did someone fart?
Pakq: It was probably me, most of my warlock spells look like farts. They shouldn't call me a warlock, they should call me a fart-o-mancer.
Me: (Tosses red hair attractively) Wouldn't that be called a flatumancer?
posted by Toldain | 1:32 PM
3 Comments:
Phritz asked that question just as a massive green cloud erupted from HIS OWN PANTS!
I maintain that in this instance, he who smelt it dealt it. I think it was that week-past-due cream he put in his coffee the other night.
Bad kitty! ;)
See, my spells allow me to take the etherioessense (EE) that is created somewhere deep in the blackest regions of my soul and bring it forth from the plane of thought and emotion. Through my deep concentration and many years of practice, I am able to specifically identify the precise point that where the fabric of time space must be breached to allow these etherioessense to bloom into our reality.
I say warlocking is all about style. Some of your … well, let’s just say some “warlocks” just take their fingernail and snag the space time fabric ripping the opening. I believe these so-called warlocks are mere dilettantes of the worst sort. They believe a pointy hat and spinny knife with sparkles make them something to be feared. Feh, I say. Feh!
A true warlock picks the exact point where the breach must be made. To demoralize and defeat one’s enemy, it is imperative that the release of the EE be made with care. Where is the enemy? Is he near or far? Facing you? Which of your companions is nearest to the enemy? What sort of enemy is it? Will smell alone be enough to damage him or her or it? Will a basic stench work or should you use a lovely wet cat food odor base with a hint of old lady perfume? That last one is one of my particular favorites. It’s always lovely to have the particular components of the EE relate. And all of this in an instant.
It is always a nice touch if you can arrange for the whole party to have a hearty breakfast of bran and a lovely black bean soup for lunch. Find out of one of the party is lactose intolerant. This sort of thing is where the art of warlocking comes in.
In any case, all of this is to say, it is hardly likely that Phritz was able to effect such a weapon without at least a finishing touch from me.
Oh, who object to the voluminous amount of chatter a warlock brings to the event. There was an article supporting this phenomenon in the journal “Tanks, More than Just a Pretty Face” sometime in the last millenium or so. I think it was titled "Magniloquence and Gastroenterological Flatulance Transference: Ethererality to intumescence. Do warlocks talk just to hear themselves or does it really make a difference? Put up or shut up. A study.”
Check out Pakq's info.
It was green, and smelled of cheese. These clues point conclusively to the only Ratonga in the party. Being a Kerran cat kinda guy, if it had been mine it would have been ochre and smelled of fish, or mice.
Post a Comment
<< Home