For my home game my players needed to identify an magical object but had no way to do so, so I decided to have them visit a school of wizards for help and just as a side joke to one of my players who watches D20 I made Arthur an NPC and didn't think much of it.
The problem came when my players finally met him, they absolutely loved him and convinced him to join them on their adventures. So now I am stuck having to be Arthur all the time, which isn't that bad its fun to explore the character. But the issue is I have to keep coming up with ridiculous antics Arthur would do without making overpowered so the party can rely on him.
So if I could get some weird antics Arthur would do because I know my players would burn me at the stake if I killed him.
All help needed I'm an idiot
A Season in Hell on Soundcloud
Reading translated poetry is a challenge, because the cadence and rhyme is rarely close to what the original language presents - but this more free verse by Rimbaud works nicely in this translation. The better of the three I own.
A Season in Hell
Arthur Rimbaud
(translated by Bertrand Mathieu)
A while back, if I remember right, my life was one long party where all hearts were open wide, where all wines kept flowing.
One night, I sat Beauty down on my lap.—And I found her galling.—And I roughed her up.
I armed myself against justice.
I ran away. O witches, O misery, O hatred, my treasure's been turned over to you!
I managed to make every trace of human hope vanish from my mind. I pounced on every joy like a ferocious animal eager to strangle it.
I called for executioners so that, while dying, I could bite the butts of their rifles. I called for plagues to choke me with sand, with blood. Bad luck was my god. I stretched out in the muck. I dried myself in the air of crime. And I played tricks on insanity.
And Spring brought me the frightening laugh of the idiot.
So, just recently, when I found myself on the brink of the final squawk! it dawned on me to look again for the key to that ancient party where I might find my appetite once more.
Charity is that key.—This inspiration proves I was dreaming!
"You'll always be a hyena etc. . . ," yells the devil, who'd crowned me with such pretty poppies. "Deserve death with all your appetites, your selfishness, and all the capital sins!"
Ah! I've been through too much:-But, sweet Satan, I beg of you, a less blazing eye! and while waiting for the new little cowardly gestures yet to come, since you like an absence of descriptive or didactic skills in a writer, let me rip out these few ghastly pages from my notebook of the damned.
