Death & Revolution

“Death revenges us against life, strips it of all its vanities and pretensions and converts it into what it truly is: a few neat bones and a dreadful grimace.”

- Octavio Paz

Death rules Zingaro in more ways than one.

This country of the New World, west and far to the south of the City, practices an unorthodox version of the Oecumenical faith that venerates the Barren Madonna, Our Lady of the Grave, “Sainted Mother Death” as its patron saint. This saint isn’t recognized officially by the church, and theological scholars speculate that she is either a syncretized pagan death goddess, or else an eikone of death dressed in an Oecumenical nun’s habit--or perhaps both. Her festival is the "Day of the Dead," where the people of Zingaro pay homage to the ghosts of their ancestors and offer gifts of skull-shaped sweets to any undead they encounter--which are not as uncommon there as in most of the New World, and no where so common as town of Cujiatepec.

Skulls are an important symbol to Mother Death, and the most powerful of the items connected with her veneration are the crystal skulls. Seven of are known to exist, but some thaumaturgical archaeologists believe there may be as many as thirteen in existence. These mysterious items predate the modern land of Zingaro, perhaps being artifacts of pre-historical New World civilization, or of drowned Meropis. Whatever their origin, the Lady of the Grave has claimed them as her own. Folklore holds they are the transformed skulls of men who so loved the Lady that she preserved a part of them forever--while taking their souls into her eternal embrace as God wills.

The skulls exhibit a variety of supernatural powers. An owner is able to focus a skull's power to strike an enemy in his sight dead once a day, and is able to raise one zombie a day to do his bidding. The skulls are also said to provide sporadic visions of the future. Most importantly, perhaps, brujos have predicted that the man who will rule Zingaro will possess one of the crystal skulls.

Death also rides Zingaro in the company of war. It began as a populist revolution over twenty years ago, but has become a bloody civil war with no end in sight. Various contenders for the presidency have bases of power in different parts of the country. They commit atrocities against other factions in the name of strategic advantage, and bleed their own people to fund their campaigns--which often require foreign mercenaries.

For the reason mentioned above, the various former generals, bandit chieftains, and populist leaders who via for control of Zingaro, also via for control of the crystal skulls. They are quit willing to pay adventurers to plunder Native ruins or old tombs in search of them, but probably just as willing to double-cross them when they have what they want.

The New Pulp

The sort of action-filled, lurid stories that populated the pulp magazines have never completely left us, but for a couple of decades have been relegated to horror and men’s adventure paperbacks to be found in racks at super-markets, drug stores, and truck-stops. These days, there’s been a resurgence of very pulp stuff in a more upscale market under the more acceptable guises of “thriller” or “horror.” They still may not be the most highbrow of literature, but their narrative verve, and wild ideas make them ideal gaming fodder.

Case in point: The Dragon Factory by Jonathan Maberry. This is the second of his Joe Ledger novels, though I haven’t read the first, but I gather its sort of in the zombie genre. Mr. Ledger is a badass ex-cop who works for a secret government organization which is now on the outs with the current administration (whose being duped by the evil super-rich, who want to get their hands on Ledger’s boss’s super-computer). Those evil rich are personified in the beautiful, albino, sexually deviant, brother and sister, Jakoby twins, who wanted to sell transgenic monster soldiers to the highest bidder, and their ex-Nazi daddy who wants to unleash global ethnic cleansing. And that’s all just the set-up!

In comparison, David Wellington’s 13 Bullets is positively mundane. It’s only got a state-trooper and a federal agent going up against a nest of vampires. These vampires aren’t the brooding, sparkling variety, but rather low-level superhuman monsters with an appearance like Nosferatu’s ugly brother. Though Wellington’s tale has many modern, cinematic touches, he draws on older myths for some elements of his vampires--for example they don’t reproduce in the usual modern way.

Apparently, in a later novel in the series, Wellington has the protagonists find the remains of a Union vampire unit from the Civil War!

You get the idea. And those are just a couple of examples. More pulpy goodness no doubt awaits.

Gruesome Twosome

Since most of my reviewing of the SRD monsters and re-conceiving them for the Strange New World of Weird Adventures is really a rejection process, I decided to forgo a tedious run-through of them all and focus on some that are easily re-imagined--like the classic lizardman and the hell hound...

“I’ll Kill You Alligator Man! Just Like I’d Kill Any Four-Legged Gator!”

Gator-Men are a species of reptilian primitives found in the New World. They are currently confined to the remote swamps and wetlands of the South, like the Mirkwater Swamp, and the Great Pahayokee Marshes. These areas serve as reservations for them, though constant vigilance is required to keep them in line. In the Southern New World continent of Asciana, vast areas of riverine jungle still belong to their fierce tribes.

Gator-Men in the Northern continent of the New World live in small tribes and eke out a marginal living trapping and fishing. Lurid pulp stories credit them with a taste for human flesh (and sometimes, a perverse lust for human women), but they are more likely to steal and eat human pets, and there are no verifiable accounts of amorous extra-species advances. They do have a love of alcoholic beverages, which are provided to them by unscrupulous traders. This only increases their natural surliness and propensity for violence.


Hell Hound on My Trail
Also called black dogs, these supernatural creatures have been known to haunt certain cursed families from the Old World. They are creatures of vengeance, which can be called up by aggrieved witches or conjure-folk to hunt down the offending party, and drag his soul to hell. Particularly powerful sorcerers might be able to bind a hell hound to their service for a time as a guard dog, though the spiritual price is no doubt high.

As no less an expert than Robert Johnson tells us, they may sometimes stalk the sinful on dark nights, in remote places.