In an Ars Magica game, a friend naively created a companion named...
Maron the Cretan.
Poor fellow. Moron the Cretin was doomed to disaster within a matter of seconds of his name being uttered.
Stu (No longer a member of the Martial Races, for he finally got central heating after fifteen+ years last winter. Although it's never switched on, for he's a skinflint Northern bastard.)
Powered by hypermail