Warlord Wednesday: X

Let's re-enter the lost world with another installment of my issue by issue examination of DC Comic's Warlord, the earlier installments of which can be found here...

"X"

Warlord (vol. 1) #46 (June 1981)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell; inked by Romeo Tanghal

Synopsis: Morgan, Aton, and Shakira arrive at the coast at the wreck of the Lady J, Jennifer Morgan’s ship. Morgan says they should split up to search for her, Aton going south, and Morgan and Shakira, north. If either finds her, alive or dead, they plan to bring her to Shamballah.

Morgan gallops off, and as Aton watches him go he pities his leader for the hardships the fates have brought him. What Aton doesn’t know is that Morgan's restless, warrior’s heart relishes this--the dangers and challenges to come...

One of those dangers presents itself soon in the form of one of Skartaris’ orange carnosaurs. The beast charges. Morgan draws and fires right into its maw. The bullet blasts through its skull, killing it instantly, but its momentum sends it crashing into Morgan, Shakira, and their mount, toppling them all.

Morgan is briefly unconscious, but as he awakens in a daze, he sees his old friend--sexy, personified Death--in front of him:

Morgan follows her gesture and sees Shakira (in cat form) lying apparently lifeless! Morgan cries out in denial as he sees Shakira's human spirit rise to follow Death. He staggers to his feet to go after them. He calls to his friend, but she doesn’t heed him. They pass through doors in the mouth of a cave, emblazoned with the legend: “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.”

Morgan follows without hesitation. His mind reels as he enters a a subterranean realm of evil where demonic beings use humans as play things. He hesistates only a moment before following his companion’s path.

The doors slam shut behind him, and Morgan is accosted by the shades of previous enemies--Shebal, Stryker, and Chakal in the fore. They’ve been awaiting for Morgan. Waiting for revenge.

Morgan doesn’t waste time fighting the already dead. He takes a leap of faith into the pit of flame below while calling out Death’s name: “Azrael!” She hears him:

Morgan demands she return Shakira. Death calls him “my love” and declares him a faithful servant, but denies him. He bargains with her, offering his life in exchange. Again Death denies him, saying he serves her too well to take now, but she gives a counter-offer: ten years off his life is her price.

Morgan agrees. Death strikes him, causing a scar like a Roman numeral ten to appear on his breast--a symbol of their deal.

She shows him Shakira in the grip of a serpentine demon, and says: “Save her if you can.”

Morgan jumps from her hand. He cuts down the demon, then takes up Shakira in his arms. Fighting of off more demons, he makes his way back to the great doors, barely ahead of his pursuers. Once through, he makes it back to his mount before collapsing.

He awakens with Shakira’s hand on his shoulder. She’s relieved he’s alive; she thought the lizard had killed him. Shakira remembers nothing of what happened, and Morgan might chalk it up to a blow to his head himself.

Except for the X-shaped scar in his chest.

Things to Notice:

• The cover illustration bears no relationship to this issue, but is a reasonable facsimile of last issue's events.
• Death (or Azrael) returns.  We last saw her in issue #14.
• Orange dinosaurs stll abound in Skartaris.

Where It Comes From:
See my commentary on issue #14 for my thoughts on Grell's depiction of Death.  New here is a name for her--Azrael.  This is the name of the Archangel of Death in some traditions, including some Islamic and Judaic lore.

The legend on the doors to the underworld ("Abandon all hope, ye who enter here") is a common translation of the Italian phrase "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate," which is the inscription over the gates of Hell in the Inferno section of Dante Alighieri's fourteenth-century epic poem, The Divine Comedy.  Grell also has Deimos use this quote back in issue #6.


Several previous Warlord foes appear as undead here.  Shebal is the gladiator trainer from issue #2, Stryker, the CIA agent from issues #4 and 13, and Chakal is the mercenary who gains a cybernteic arm from issues #25-27.

In Any Language

In my collection, I have two role-playing games that I am unable to read because they're in non-English languages.  Both of them I bought for their gorgeous art.  One of these games is the 6th edition of the venerable Swedish fantasy rpg, Drakar och Demoner ("Dragons and Demons").

This edition, published in 2000, is set in the world of Trudvang, which (perhaps unsurprisingly) has a strong "Northern thing" going for it (though I gather this something of a departure from more generic fantasy in previous editions).  Check this out:

The whole thing is in sepia which is nicely evocative.  The art avoids the sins of modern D&D art, thought it hardly could be said to be "old school."  Instead, its perhaps more classical illustration in style.

Here are a couple of the PC races:

Trollish races:

Of course, those are all my best guesses of what those images illustrate. I can't read the text.

Pretty pictures, though.

Will Eisner's Spirit

Yesterday (as Google kindly pointed out) would have been the 94th birthday of graphic storytelling giant. Will Eisner. Eisner was the author of numerous comics and graphic novels, but his most famous creation, The Spirit, appeared in newspapers.

The domino masked crime-fighter known as the Spirit appeared in June 1940 in a syndicated Sunday newspaper supplement. The strip would continue in that format until October 1952. Later, Kitchen Sink Press and DC Comics would bring the Spirit into traditional comic book format--and of course there was the movie that should have been called Frank Miller’s Spirit since it bore only a passing similarity to Eisner’s work.

The most interesting thing about The Spirit was the way the stories were told. Unlike conventional hero comics, the Spirit was often merely an observer or a minor player in the events depicted--which were frequently character studies or musing on aspects of urban life. Sure there was a good bit of violence, noir crime, and femmes fatale a plenty, but there was also a good deal of humor. All of this was delivered in a visual style showing a greater sophistication and awareness of techniques from film than most other artists of the era.

The Spirit would be good inspiration for many sort of urban campaigns, particular in the pulp and low-powered supers genres. It certainly had an influence on the City, both directly, and  indirectly through Moore and Veitch’s Spirit homage, Greyshirt.

The Evilest Little Cathouse in Freedonia

Visitors to the small, rural town of Butterwort, Freedonia, will find themselves encouraged to sample the pleasures offered by Stang House (supposedly named for the New Ylourgne madame held to have opened it in '52)--a “sporting house” in the antiquated local parlance. A short trip to the edge of town will reveal suggestive silhouettes behind gauzy curtains in the house’s windows, and the faint, but seductive sounds of feminine laughter, music, and general merriment coming from within.

Those entering the house will find things very different from what they expected. The inside is pink-walled and pulsating. The undulating floor is slick with secretions, and possibly strewn with glistening (and softening) bone. Should one try to turn and run for the door, he will find the opening tightly sealed. Then the caustic, acrid smelling liquid will begin to spew forth in gouts from the walls....

Living House: AC 6 (outside) 10 (inside); HD 20; Attacks: 1 (acid, 2d6 per round).  There is a 50% chance that the house will disgorge its prey after it has taken 25% or more of its total hit points in damage.

The living cathouse was inspired by the gardinel from the stories of Manly Wade Wellman.

Adventures in One Panel

Here again are some vignettes clipped from Golden Age (mostly) comics chosen for adventure inspiration.  I've placed them in the world of the City, but they could take place almost anywhere...

Ominous rumors surround the Mircalla Karnstein Finishing School for Young Ladies. 

The new ape at the Empire Park Zoo was certainly unusual--more unsual than anyone could have imagined.  Who could've guessed he was the last of a prehuman race of simian sorcerers?  That is, until it was too late...

Kidnapped beauties plus a lecherous lich equals a bizarre pangeant with a macabre first prize.

Illegally imported Vegepygmeus anthrophagi pods turn a rich man's greenhouse into a slaughterhouse.

All Those Monsters

Most role-playing games that run more than one book prove a catalog of monsters. D&D in its various incarnations provides us with more than one. I would suspect most gamemasters are like myself and have never employed every monster in any of those books, much less all of them. I wonder, though, how people decide which monsters to play versus which to leave on the bench?

In my oft-revised, ever-evolving D&D to GURPS to Wizards & Warlocks setting (now answering to the named The World of Arn), I first employed whatever monsters struck my fancy from the three AD&D monster manuals and various issues of Dragon. I had the vague notion that any monster was fair game, but some spoke to me more than others--and some were just lame.

Later, when the world took a Sword & Sorcery turn, under the heady influence of Leiber and Howard, actually monsters (except humanoids) became rarer--human foes were the order of the day, and various prehistoric animals (the setting being in a mythic prehistory in good Howardian fashion) in wilderness adventures. Later, I wanted my own "signature" monsters (like Tolkien had his orcs) so I played up obscure entries from Dragon over standards. Why have the same old orcs when you can have cynamolgi (from Dragon #141 for you completists)? I mean, even the cartoon set itself apart from the norm by pushing bullywugs to prominence.

The latest iteration brought me full circle in a way, with all the glorious, crazy, D&D creatures stalking the world, albeit perhaps in a more “rationalized” fashion. And still some of the dregs got ignored. (Sorry flumph.)

The world of the City presented a challenge of adaptation. Here, I’ve been more planful about what monsters I’m gong to use. They have to be able to “work” with the more modern setting, and I really want to have in mind what the beastie's roll is in the setting--even if that’s just “monster of the week.”

So how do you decide what monsters are in your setting, be it D&D or otherwise? Grand plan? Whimsy?

Warlord Wednesday: Nightmare in Vista-Vision

Let's re-enter the lost world with another installment of my issue by issue examination of DC Comic's Warlord, the earlier installments of which can be found here...

"Nightmare in Vista-Vision"

Warlord (vol. 1) #45 (May 1981)

Writing and art by Mike Grell; inks by Vince Colletta

Synopsis: On a remote Skartarian beach, Jennifer Morgan tries to communicate with the brutish, hooded man who found her, but finding the language barrier difficult. Jennifer mentions the name of her father, “Travis Morgan,” the eyes of the man harden. Suddenly, he lashes out with his sword...

...and slashes a sabretooth tiger as it pounces. Jennifer feels she misjudged the man--he just saved her life, after all. The man’s attention is now focused on his bronze-bound, wooden box which has been overturned. He rushes to it swiftly and closes it. Calling it “master” he whispers to it that he’s certain the girl did not see. And yes, he heard her say the name of his master’s mortal enemy--Travis Morgan.

Meanwhile, Morgan, Aton, and Shakira ride into the tree village of the dwarfs. Morgan asks if they’ve happened to find his old sword he left on his last visit. The mayor of the dwarfs leads him to it. Morgan just taken it in hand, when they hear a scream from outside. Running toward it, they find:

The fight doesn’t favor our heroes.  Morgan and Aton wound out sprawled out, while the cyclops lumbers away with the sack full of dwarfish maidens. Morgan’s got a question for the mayor:

But there is something Morgan can do. He and his companion race after the cyclops. They soon come to a fallen tree bridging a ravine. They stop a moment to strategize.  When the plan is made, Aton stays behind while Shakira and Morgan cross the bridge.

They come open a cobbled together skeleton strapped to a cross. Morgan thinks its some sort of warning; it means they’re on the right track. He’s proved right as they come around a rock outcropping and find a cave with three cyclopes tending a fire--and a cook pot. The dwarf women watched worriedly from a nearby hanging cage.

Shakira’s also worried, but Morgan reminds her he has a plan. Soon, Shakira (in cat form) is creeping across the branch toward the dwarf ladies. When she’s close enough, she jumps to the cage and changes to human form so she can set them free.

As they’re making there escape, the cyclopes notice and give chase. That’s when Morgan comes swinging in on a vine and slams into them. Despite their size, the giants are staggered. Morgan drops to the ground and pulls his sword.

He deals the closest a deadly blow, then runs for the tree bridge. The other two cyclopes give chase. Morgan is half-way across the tree, with the cyclopes behind when he shouts “cut it!” to Aton. Aton chops through a large root that seems to be holding the tree in place.

As the tree falls into the ravine, Morgan jumps to safety. The cyclopes aren’t so lucky. One falls to his death, though the other manages to grab hold to the cliffside.

Before he can climb out, our heroes push a boulder off the cliff onto him. Morgan’s plan worked! Still, Aton’s got a good question:

Things to Notice:

• The dwarf men (last seen in issue #33) look like munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, but the ladies are decidedly cuter and more curvaceous--like Elinore from Bakshi's Wizards.
• This issue features filmic transition captions.

Where It Comes From:
The title of this issue references vistavision, a widescreen film format developed by Paramount as a competitor for CinemaScope.  This fits in with a number of film references in the issue.  Captions between scene changes in the issue are all film transition terms. 

Also, there are a couple of set-peices seem homages to specific sequences in film.  The tree bridge greatly resembles the who from the original King Kong (1933).   The bone scarecrow on a cross resembles who the Talyor (Charlton Heston) and his fellows come across in Planet of the Apes (1968).

Mantis Prey

The Mantid Sisterhood are ascetic warrior-nuns and servants of Law from the outer planar realm sometimes called the Octachoron of the Archons. They appear as full-scale, porcelain, marrionettes (without visible strings), in the form of insectoid centaurs, with feminine upper bodies, like slim ballerinas. They wear sphinx-like expressions on their perfect, identical faces.

They are sent out to the Prime Material to hunt down those guilty of transgressions against the Grand Algorithm of the Archons of Law. Transgressors need not know they have committed error--the judgement of the Archons is final; the punishments of the Sisterhood precise...and always delivered with the utmost serenity.

#Enc.: 1d6
Move: 40’(120’)
AC: 3
HD: 7
Attacks: 2 (strikes)
Damage: 2d8
Save: C7
Mantid sisters have the abilities of the Monk class at 7th level (except for feign death, and resistance to ESP, which are superseded by other abilities). As constructs of a sort, they possess darkvision, immunity ot mind-affecting effects, and immunity to poison, sleep, paralysis, charm, and disease--anything that requires a target be a biologic living being.  They are able to travel via dimensional doorways from plane to plane at will.

Mosquito, Repellent

In San Zancudo, from the shade of a cantina, one can watch a colorful parade in honor of the national “bird”--the mosquito.

San Zancudo straddles the treacherous strait between the northern New World continent of Septentrion and the southern Asciana. The way through is difficult due rocks and a peculiarity of geology which causes the depth of the passage to change--the volcanic rock pushed up periodically by subterranean pockets of steam. Only the San Zancudan pilots know the timing of these movements, and the way through, from the Meropic Ocean to the Tranquil.

The strait isn’t the only unusual thing in San Zancudo. In previous times, it’s jungles were home to a speices of mosquito that could grow to the size of a small dog. These creatures were never numerous when compared to their smaller cousins, but dangerous due their voracious hunger for blood. A eradication campaign earlier in the century was thought to have wiped them out entirely, though there is some evidence this may not be the case.

The celebration of mosquitos San Zancudo may not be innocent frivolity.  There are rumors that the pagan cult which once worshipped an obscene, vampiric mosquito goddess still exists in the deep jungles. The old temples may still hold orgiastic rites where victims are sacrificed to the god-thing, manifest in a monstrous cloud of mundane (but ravenous) mosquitos. The giant insects are held to be the goddess' prize servitors and the enforcers of her will.

More Elephants on Parade

Last week, I talked I chronicled an unusual elephant-shaped building in the City. The inspirations for that post were the three exemplars of zoomorphic architecture constructed by James V. Lafferty in the late nineteenth century. The first (and the only one still in existence) was “Lucy,” built in 1881 in what is now Margate, New Jersey. Lucy is 65 feet tall and 60 feet long. Here’s the plan for Lucy filed with the U.S. patent office:

Lafferty built one larger. The Elephantine Colossus, built on Coney Island in 1888, was 122 feet tall. It was destroyed in a fire in 1896, but here’s a diagram of its insides:

The third was 40 feet tall, and built in Cape May, New Jersey, in 1884. It was named “The Light of Asia,” but known as “Old Dumbo” to the locals. Never financially successful, it was partial torn down, and what left of it was burnt in 1900.

I think any of these structures would make an unusual set-piece in a Victorian (or perhaps an unorthodox Old West) game. They certain could inspire similar structures for use in any era or setting.

Rogue Elephant

To adventurers in the City, the question, “have you see the elephant?” has a different meaning than elsewhere. Some have encountered an infamous, wandering hotel in the shape of an elephant, now the residence of a dangerous (and possibly insane) sorcerer.

The Mastodon Colossus, or Hotel Elephantine, was built as a tourist attraction on Lapin Isle in the City’s barony of Rook End. The (admittedly eccentric) architect Jamis Maguffin constructed it through consultation of certain codices of the Ancients--and some magical materials probably dating to Meropis dredged from the City’s harbor. The elephant was twelve stories tall and had stout legs 60 feet in diameter. It had 31 guest rooms, a gallery, tobacconist's shop, and an observation deck shaped like a gigantic howdah.

Most spectacularly, the whole thing was planned to move. Maguffin promised that when all of the thaumaturgic glyphs and enhancements were complete, the elephant would be able to ambulate without any seeming change to the rooms on its interior. These enhancements, unfortunately, would take some time.

Eleven years later, when the thaumaturgical working was (supposedly) nearly complete, the elephant walked away one night with a compliment of guests. Most have turned up dead in various locales, all over the world and beyond, in the four decades since.

The theft and the murders were laid at the feet of Hieronymus Gaunt, lich and (self-styled) wicked sorcerer. He and a band of miscreants entered the elephant and completed the rituals to give in motion. Since that time they've travelled the world in decadent style, taking their seemingly unending orgy of dark thaumaturgy, baroque perversity, and deadly amusements where they may. Sometimes, when it amuses Gaunt, they take others aboard and survivors have reported stores of plunder, both mundane and magical.

I may do a post on the real elephant-shaped buildings of our world in the next week. Until then, read more about them at your local library.

A Tale of Two Cities

On some moonless night in the City, you can look across the Eldritch River and see on the other bank a shining, alien city with buildings that look as if there made of blown glass and infused with a pale, fluorescent glow. In the morning, you might look again at the same place on the far bank, wondering if the strange city had just been dream, and you’d see the gray smokestacks and worn docks of humdrum Hoborxen, and you’d be sure you that it had been.

And you’d be wrong.

Since the earliest days of Ealderdish settlement, strange things have been seen and heard in the area that would eventually become the city of Hoborxen. These irruptions from elsewhere have only increased over the centuries since. Now, in the night, the working class neighborhoods and decaying waterfront of day Hoborxen are intruded upon, and sometimes replaced, by an otherworldly city of tall spires, all its buildings made of something resembling glass, warm to the touch like the mantle of a recently lit lantern.

Every night, some part of Hoborxen is replaced by the intruder--sometimes only a single structure, other times an entire neighborhood. On nights of the new moon, Horboxen is entirely replaced. The city begins to appear at dusk, as if emerging from an unseen but evaporating fog, or coalescing from the dying light. The strange glow of its structures rises slowly; it's brightest at midnight and wanes toward dawn.

No human inhabitants of the alien city are ever seen, but it's not completely deserted. Fairy-like creatures--obscenely jabbering, cinereous, and moth-winged--sometimes buzz about its streets or lewdly call from high perches. A low growl, a sound as much felt in the bones as heard, periodically reverberates through the streets, and some explorers have claimed to heard a woman crying or laughing softly.

Exploration of the glassy structures usually turns up everyday detritus from Hoborxen, most of which is of little value. Sometimes, things lost elsewhere in the world turn up here, but again seldom anything of real value except perhaps to the one that lost it. It’s a common tale among adventurers that there's a great treasure haul somewhere in the city, but no one has retrieved anything more than a few enigmatic, otherworldly trinkets.

Would-be treasure-hunters should weigh the likely gain against the potential dangers.  A number of people entering the areas of the alien city are never seen again. 

The people of Hoborxen are inured to these nocturnal visitations, and rarely remark on them, though addiction, violence, and suicide are more common there than in neighboring towns. No one knows where they go when they’re elsewhere. “Nowhere,” they say, and shrug and turn away.

Some thaumaturgist muse darkly that there may come a time when Hoborxen will be gone entirely, every night. And after that, will the incursion spread?

Warlord Wednesday: The Gamble

Let's re-enter the lost world with another installment of my issue by issue examination of DC Comic's Warlord, the earlier installments of which can be found here...

"The Gamble"

Warlord (vol. 1) #44 (April 1981)

Writing and art by Mike Grell; inks by Vince Colletta

Synopsis: On a lonely Skartarian beach, Jennifer Morgan awakens to the sound of a voice commenting on her beauty, and finds herself under the gaze of a hooded man carrying a brass-bound wooden box on his shoulder.

Along the Terminator, the rim where the outer North Pole meets the inner world of Skataris, Morgan and Aton arrive at the city of Bantuhm.  Finding Jennifer is their goal ultimate, but Morgan's brought them to this “den of thieves and assassins” because he needs a good swordsmith.  He must have a replacement for the magical Hellfire sword which he was forced to give up to escape its malign influence.  Morgan tells Aton to find a bar and he’ll meet him later.

Aton hasn’t even gotten his drink before he’s enticed into a game of chance by the roguish Tevalco El Cint, over the warnings of the establishment’s barmaid.   A simple shell game is what el Cint offers—and a small wager.

When Morgan finds Aton later he’s looking downcast over his ale.  Morgan has had no luck finding a blade, and it doesn’t improve his mood to hear Aton lost their horses gambling!  Morgan’s response to this news:

The Tevalco el Cint intervenes to offer Morgan a deal.  There’s “a certain jewel in a certain tower at the center of a walled maze” that el Cint will exchange for their horses.  Morgan reluctanting agrees, and soon the three are standing outside the large gates in the wall around the tower.

Morgan wonders why there are no guards.  El Cint tells them they're not needed.  He ushers the two through the gate, telling them the difficulty isn’t getting in, but getting out—and he slams the gate behind them, locking it somehow.  The key to the gate, he assures them, is in the same chamber as the jewel.

Morgan and Aton have no choice; they start out through the hedge maze.  The correct path is hard to find—and the maze has deadly traps, including rabid dogs that come running at them out of the darkness.  Morgan and Aton have to dispatch them without getting bitten, which they succeed in doing, but at the cost of Morgan’s remaining ammunition.

Making it through the rest of the maze without incident, the two come to the door in the base of the tower, guarded by two apparently empty suits of armor—one which turns its head to follow them when they’ve past!  They're only a little ways up the tower stairs when they realize the suits of armor are behind them.

Morgan knocks one down with a handy flaming brazier, proving for certain that no one is inside.  More suits of armor join the chase, and with the fire is spreading.  The two run into a room where they find the key and the jewel.  Aton snatches up the key, but the room is ablaze, and Morgan isn’t about to let them burn to get el Cint his treasure.  The two are forced to jump from a high tower window into water below.

When the two walk back into the tavern, el Cint is surpised to see them—he had bet 100 silver pieces that they wouldn’t make it!  Since they don’t have the jewel he won’t return the horses, but he does offer Morgan an attempt at his game: a chance to win the horses against their service in another enterprise.  Morgan agrees.

El Cint works his shell game again, and asks Morgan to guess where the pearl is.  Morgan’s response:

Then Morgan tells the now one-handed el Cint how it is:

Morgan and Aton walk toward their horses, and encounter a black cat that transforms into Shakira.  She tells Morgan not to be so surprised: she told him they’d meet again.  She asks where they're going.  Morgan doesn’t know, but he does know they’ll have to make a side-trip to pick up more ammo first.

Much later, the trio ride into the ruined city where Morgan stashed his ammunition.  While Morgan and Aton retreive it, Shakira walks into an old room and activates a monitor, making it show an image of how the city must have looked in ages past.  Shakira sheds tears, staring at it.   Then, she turns the computer off and leaves the room.

Things to Notice:

• The Terminator tavern girl sports the raccoon-eye make-up not seen in Warlord sense the seventies.
• Was Shakira following Morgan and Aton all this time?  It doesn't seem likely she'd just turn up in the same city.
• We get a hint at Shakira's mysterious past.

Where It Comes From:
The hard-to-breach tower with treasure inside is a Sword & Sorcery staple, perhaps starting with the Conan story "Tower of the Elephant" (1933).

Bantuhm is perhaps derived from Ban Thum, a district in Thailand, or Bantoom, a Barsoomian city-state.

"Tevalco el Cint" is a pseudo-Spanish name; "el cint" is apart of several Catalan place names.

Prez's Day

I missed the real Presidents Day, but maybe American Presidents-Might-Have-Been have their own separate day? There are a lot of these guys, as a quick look at tvtropes will reveal, but one of the craziest is America’s first teen president--Prez.

This idea was the brainchild of writer Joe Simon (most famous for his work with Kirby--solo he gave us Brother Power the Geek) and artist Jerry Grandenetti. The series is predicated on the notion of a Constitutional amendment lowering the age for eligibility for office (which may have been inspired by the 1968 film Wild in the Streets). The upshot is a teenager gets elected, and who better than a earnest and idealistic kid from Middle America whose mother even named him “Prez” ‘cause she thought he’d be President one day?

Prez Rickard served for 4 issues. An unpublished story appeared Cancelled Comics Cavalcade #2. Prez also had a continuity-busting crossover with Supergirl.

President Rickard had an evenful time in office. There was a U.S.-Russia chess match resulting in chess-based crime, and an act of war by Transylvania,  with vampire bats as a bioweapon.

Then there were domestic threats. Prez's attempt to outlaw firearms (as one might expect) earned him the ire of a group called the Mintueman--and an an assassination attempt. From this misadventure, the young president learned peace and love weren’t the answer to everything.

Prez’s tale was told again in Sandman--recast as a sort of modern fairytale which fits the material nicely, even though the original comic was more goofy than anything else.

So let’s take a moment this Un-President’s Day to remember Prez: The First Teenage President of the U.S.A.

A Piece of the Action

Lake City on the Inland Sea is foremost among the municipalities of the Inland Sea Combine, and the second largest city in the Union. It’s also completely controlled by organized crime.

Traditional government broke down toward the end of the last century, in the wake of vicious gang warfare. Finally, the boss of the Strillo crime family made a Faustian deal with the Hell Syndicate. Granted hellish powers and infernal soldiers to swell his ranks, he quickly overwhelmed the other gangs and took control of the city. Since then, a succession of gang bosses have controlled the city through use of patronage and influence-peddling, though they are certainly not above the application of violence and intimidation.

Lake City’s mayor and city council are elected, but all are indebted to the gangs. The city is divided up into territories doled out to “underbosses” who not only oversee criminal enterprises, but also control voting precincts and act as unofficial magistrates, in a sort of  de facto feudal system.

Poor youth look up to the gangsters, and hope to join their ranks one day. Every neighborhood has stories of a local kid who rose up through the ranks to get his or her own piece of the action through judicious application of street-smarts and gunplay.

What only a few of the wide-eyed youth ever live to see--an unlucky few--is the boss of bosses.  They never have to take part in the ritual visits of "made men" to pay fearful homage and offer sacrifice to Ziacomo Mostruoso, imprisoned behind strong thaumaturgic wards in the sub-basement of an old prison, his immortal body and devious mind ravaged and mutated by a lifetime’s exposure to the raw energies of hell.

Midnight in the House Tenebrous

There are places in Nla-Ogupta--that ancient, decadent, Venusian Venice--where Terrans do not go. The Street of Blue Vines was one of those. The buildings along it crowded close, as if trying to conceal some secret. The uncanny glow of bioluminescent lantern-jellies that cling to haphazard lines seem dimmer than elsewhere--as if they too were conspirators. It's said that in millennia past, when Egypt was young, the Street of Blue Vines was a place where cultists trafficked with inhuman gods. Old Venus-hands, deep in their cups, spin tales of cannibalism, and alien sexual rites. That's what the rumors say.  No Terran knows, and if any polite Venusian knows, they don't speak of it to offworlders.

But on this night, a Terran does wind his way down the serpentine Street of Blue Vines. His stride is unhesitating--he hasn't come this way accidentally. He moves purposely to the darkened, leaning structure which bears no sign or legend, but nevertheless is known to the denizens of Nla-Ogupta's underworld as the House Tenebrous. He has come seeking this house, and the service it sells.  He's come to buy a man's death.

The Street of Blue Vines gets its name from the eerie, electric indigo vines and foliage that entwine 'round its most infamous denizen, the House Tenebrous. The House only permits entrance at night--in fact, it may be that it can only be located at night.

A seated, robed figured, appearing as a short and portly man, his features completely hidden in a cowl, asks any visitor who he or she might wished kill, and why. The figure’s voice sounds distant, and tinny, and seems to emanate from all around. The man never moves, even in the slightest.  Sometimes visitors get the impression that there are others in the room--the feeling of eyes upon them, or the hint of motion in the shadows of the audience chamber. Psychically sensitive individuals report “hearing” distant, unintelligible, whispers, and an unpleasant mental sensation not unlike smothering.

If the man chooses to accept the comission, the price is variable, and not always in money.  If a goal can be discerned from House's representative's payment demands, it is that they seem to be aimed at reducing Terran influence on Venus.

Eventually, though a space of week or months may pass, all victims of the House Tenebrous are found dead somewhere in Nla-Ogupta (or in one case, on a ship having recently departed there) without any apparent signs of violence or physical injury. Victims always appear to have died in their sleep, though often their face and bodies are contorted as if in fear or pain.

AD&D Cosmology: A Defense

The so-called “Great Wheel” of AD&D cosmology takes its lumps from folks who feel its non-mythic, too mechanical, and over-complicated. To these charges, I find the system guilty--but I’d add for the sake of fairness that one should look at its virtues. After a discussion of this nature over at Dreams in the Lich House, Beedo suggested I offer a counterargument here. I’ve touched on ways I feel the Great Wheel can be reconceptualized before (twice)--but I’ll summarize my argument in favor of it here, before diving into a slightly new way to look at it.

So, to it’s virtues:

1. It’s complicated: That’s right--this can be be both a deficit and an asset. The system of correspondences, associations, and the like in hermetic magic is a lot less streamlined than fire and forget or comic book-esque magic blasts, but its got a little thing called verisimilitude. Ptomelaic epicycles are complicated as hell (and terribly wrong) but they’re authentic. The Great Wheel, ironically, has some of this “almost too convoluted to make up” charm about it.

2. It’s consistent: The implied setting of AD&D has morality (i.e. alignment) as a tangible force with teams, and secret languages, and auras (or something) that can be identified by spells. It makes sense that the realms of gods, devils, and the afterlife would operate on this same system--as above, so below, as it were. In fact, any cosmology that doesn’t take into account the reality of alignment in AD&D as written, is really an incomplete one, as there’s an odd, omnipresent force unaccounted for.

3. It’s weird: By this I mean its cobbled together (syncretic might be a better term) and idosyncratic. It’s strangely uniform in some ways, and oddly random in others. In other words, it reminds me of crackpot theories of physics, or theosophic ramblings, and whole swathes of occultism. Looking at that diagram in in 1E Deities and Demigods is like hearing about the Philadelphia Experiment, or reading an occult tome that claims to be the “real” Necronomicon. It’s crazy, but the sort of crazy that makes one curious.

All well and good, you might say, but what do you do with it? This a complicated question.  First off, I’d say take a look at it through these principles:

1. The Outer Planes are representations of “human” ideas/concerns (the Anthropic Principle).

2. The Outer Planes are not material places but conceptual ones: their appearance is malleable, and they're perhaps more symbolic than literal: perhaps like being in a dream in Inception, or maybe like Ditko’s surrealist portrayal of magical realms in Doctor Strange comics.

3. Each plane is sort of symbolic or representational of some aspect of its alignment: Hades might be the archetypal prison, for instance.  Deities don't so much dwell there in the sense they someone might live in the suburbs, they dwell there in the sense that are associated with its archetypes or ethos.  In this respect, they might resemble the sephiroth of Qabalah as portrayed in hermeticism-- Alan Moore’s Promethea being a great (and gameable) representation of this.

If this generates any sort of interest I might give some examples in a future post--or maybe I’ll give ‘em regardless, if I’m of a mind.

Urban Monsters

Over time, metropolises like the City extend urban sprawl into areas which were formerly wilderness--wilderness haunted by monsters. Some monsters are pushed further out into the wilds, but others adapt to the new environments in which they find themselves. Then their are other creatures who have always been associated with man and his habitations in a variety of ways, from freeloader to predator. Here's a sampling of creatures one might encounter in the City and perhaps other urban areas:

Gargoyles: are Old World creatures who have been roosting in human cities since ancient times. Historically, some Earlderdish cities are reported to have formed pacts with gargoyle colonies for mutual protection. The creatures must have either stowed away or been purposely brought to the New World. Though admittedly ill-tempered and certainly capable of violence, they're generally not dangerous (except to small animals like pets) if given wide berth. Researchers in the City have tried to make contact with the sometimes temperamental creatures as its hoped that an understanding of the metabolic curse, pertrifactio progressiva, that causes gargoyles to age into stone statues might lead to an alchemical cure for petrification of various sorts.

Oozes/Slimes/Molds: These organisms can be found in underground areas like sewers and subway tunnels which they colonized from deeper strata of ruins, or where they were dumped by irresponsible alchemical concerns. These organisms have been known to spread up into basements, or even through the walls of decaying buildings.  Such incursions often occasion a call to the Municipal Department of Animal and Pest Control.

Undead: Ghosts are common in cities, with other incorporeal undead somewhat less so.  Spectral automobiles phantom trains, and the like are more common in cities than in rural areas.  Freelance specialists do a brisk business in disposing of many sorts of hauntings. Zombies are utilized (illegally) in underground fighting competitions for the purposes of gambling, or as cheap labor. Skeletons are less frequently used because they attract too much attention, but some ostentatious necromancers employ them as (ahem)--muscle--for just that reason. Barrow-wights are sometimes found haunting potter’s fields, old catacombs, and occasionally upscale cemeteries, though the dark processes that initiate a wight infestation are not understood. Ghouls of the Strange New World are not actually undead, but have a taste for brains which make them dangerous, particularly if handled less than courteously. Vampires--blood junkies--tend to slide over their unlife from more respectable areas to slums where their victims are less likely to be missed.

Devils: The Hell Syndicate prefers to use human agents, keeping its infernal troops in reserve, but there are a few exceptions. Succubi and incubi are heavily involved in higher-priced prostitution rings. Hit-Fiends, mostly disguised (barely) as mundane muscle, back up particularly high-placed human gangsters, and are sent rub out particularly annoying adventurer-types.

Warlord Wednesday: Hypothetically Collected

Warlord began (and ended) its run long before the days of obligatory collections, so it was written to work as a monthly magazine. However, the dramatic arcs Grell utilizes, particularly in the early issues, lend themselves to a certain structure. Given the number of issues I have under my belt now in this feature, it might be worth looking back as those arcs, and how Warlord could be arranged into collections. It probably goes with saying, but my arrangement would probably never be how it would really be done--I’m more interested in story than printing economy.  So here are the Books of Warlord, so far:

Book 1: “Savage World” (First Issue Special #8, Warlord #1-5): Air Force pilot Travis Morgan crashes in the inner world of Skartaris. He leads a revolution against tyranny, and wins for himself the heart of a princess--a princess which cruel fate separates him from.

Book 2: (issues #6-15): Morgan gains a new companion (and a new enemy) in a brief return to the surface world. With the help of friends old and new, he must overcome strange challenges to return to his mate, Tara--and his new born son!

Book 3: “The Quest” (issues #16-21): The Demon Priest, Deimos, has abducted Joshua, heir to the throne of Shamballah, and son of the Warlord. Morgan and Tara search Skartaris for their son, and finally face their enemy in the eternal twilight of the Terminator--but even in defeating Deimos Travis Morgan loses.

Book 4: “This Sword for Hire” (issues #22-31): Grief-stricken over having caused the death of his son (or so he believes), Travis Morgan wanders through various adventures, and encounters Ashir (the second best thief in Skartaris!)--but ultimately he can’t hide from his responsibility or his destiny.

Book 5: (issues #32-39): The beautiful and enigmatic shapechanger, Shakira, joins Travis Morgan on sword and sorcery adventures in their quest to reach Shamballah and warn the city of an impending invasion.

Book 6: “War & Wizard World” (issues #40-43): Morgan and Shakira find King Ashir beset by assassins, and betrothed to a foreign queen--Morgan’s own mate! As lover’s are reunited, a Theran army marches on Shamballah the Golden. Also: Machiste and Mariah’s adventures with the uncoventional wizard Mungo Ironhand in Wizard World (back-ups form issues #40-41, possibly 29-31).

I should add there have been two actual Warlord collections. Showcase Presents: Warlord is still in print.

We'll return to the lost world next week...

Happy Birthday to Me

As today makes it T-731 days between me and forty, there'll be no long post, just Marilyn cutting a cake. 

Maybe I'll spend the extra time doing something worthwhile--like working on Weird Adventures...

Love (and Sex) in the City

The City has a holiday analogous to our Valentine’s Day, celebrated in the winter month of Gelid. Hearts’ Day, or Lovers’ Day, has its origins in ancient, pagan fertility feasts, and is a time when wise thaumaturgists know the powers of the eikone Doll are at their strongest. Her manifestations walk the earth, manipulating the lives of humans to induce love--or at at least lust or passion.

People who don't directly interact with Doll, tend to commemorate the day by exchange of heart-shaped cards and gifts with their sweethearts.  Male adventurers, like chivalrous knights in stories, are known to vow to win some prize or achieve some great deed for their inamoratas.  No doubt the tendency of adventurers to imbibe in large quantities contributesd to this behavior.

In general, sexual mores in the New World resemble our own world’s in the first half of last century, though the presence of magic has led to some differences. Coercive magic or charms, for example, are technically illegal in most jurisdictions, but such laws are infrequently enforced. People tend to be somewhat cautious about taking drinks offered from strangers, and the most prudent wear some sort of minor charm as a defense. Luckily, most such magics are of short duration and tend to only have a shallow emotional effect.

Prostitution is illegal in the City and in most places in the New World, but that doesn’t stop it from being commonly practiced. Higher class prostitutes tend to employ thaumaturgical or alchemical aids to enhance their appeal, and the pleasure of their clientele, particularly those of exotic tastes. Some of these enhancements are extraplanar in origin, coming from the lust laboratories (and sometimes the pain dungeons) of the Hell Syndicate.

Unwanted pregnancy is, of course, a concern. The usual barrier methods of contraception are known. Purely biochemical female contraception is understood in theory, but is at this point not feasible. Alchemical or thaumaturgic methods exist, but their use is nontrivial as the dosage must be varied based on astrological influences and the like, so failure rates are high.

Venereal disease also looms large. Healing magics can ameliorate the effects, but prevention remains the best policy. Militaries, in particular, view this as a serious threat to readiness, though different nations address the problem differently. Some promote abstinence, while others have instituted programs of education, provision of condoms, and alchemical monitoring.  In the Great War, some particularly fiendish (though not terribly effective) attempts at biological warfare used prostitutes carrying alchemically-wrought infections to strike at enemy troops.

Mighty Marvel Manhattan

The center of the Marvel Universe has always been New York City. The Avengers Mansion, the Daily Bugle, Empire State University, Dr. Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum, and Luke Cage’s old office above the Gem Theater, are all located in a fairly realistically portrayed (except, you know, for the superheroes) Manhattan. DC’s fictional cities were originally generic settings, and have become thematic support for their central characters, but Marvel’s New York has always been more of place which its characters adapted to, or arose from.

TSR’s Marvel Superheroes rpg dealt with the city in a few of supplements (New York, New York, and the map on the judge’s screen, to name a couple), but never really gave us a lot of detail. That’s a shame, because there’s more to be had from the comics. Wizard #199 published the map above, and an accompanying article, but the best reference I've found is Peter Sandersen’s The Marvel Comics Guide to New York City.

Sandersen, of course, contrasts the Marvel Universe version of the city with ours. He also (as one might expect) pulls out the occasional obscure detail (like the Snakeroot cult in catacombs beaneath Central Park’s Belvedere Castle from Daredevil). What’s most interesting to me, though, is how some of the geographic elements are really easter eggs for Marvel Comics history--like the fact that Roy Thomas and Gary Friedrich shared an apartment at 177A Bleeker Street, which turns out the be Dr. Strange’s address in the MU.

If you’ve got a yen to game in the Marvel Universe, or are just a Marvel fan, I’d say its worth checking out.