Make Them Choose How They Die

Cabin in the Woods is a really good film--though perhaps not so much as a horror film as a meditation on horror films and their audience. Anyway, go see it, and then we’ll talk. What I’m going to do instead of review the movie is suggest some ways it could influence a dungeoncrawl sort of game.

Though I’m not going to spoil specific film events directly, I’ll reveal some plot points indirectly, so if you want your viewing experience to be pristine, beware:


Related to the "Theseus vs. the Minotaur" setup of Hunger Games, what if the adventures aren’t gladiators but just sacrifices? Sacrifices that have the means to fight back of course, but not intended by the Powers That Be to survive. Unlike Minos's labyrinth, where the monster is the same (and there’s only one of them), the Powers let the monsters and window-dressing (dungeon-dressing?) get chosen by character choice.

There's a room full of artifacts--items--most of them magical, though not in the useful sort of way, probably. The characters chose one (though they probably don’t know the real choice they’re making)--and that choice sets up the theme of the dungeon.

Of course, all the different themes and all the different monsters exist there, somewhere, ready to go when called upon. The PC’s might well discover these other options in the course of the campaign, including perhaps the “storage area” for all the monsters.

It’s a setup with a lot of possibilities. A megadungeon more like the titular Cube that the traditional linear layers--and with a overall malign purpose for player’s to uncover. If they survive.

X-Ray Specs

A cheap magic item sometimes found in the City, X-Ray Spectacles are apparently mass-produced and sold in the back of lurid pulps and comics.  The item is sold for as little as a single Union dollar--with good reason, as 90% or more are fakes whose only magical power is to appear faintly magical, distort one's vision slightly when wearing them, and cause headaches.  The real X-Ray Spectacles (sold from identical ads as the fake ones) are identical cardboard glasses (not unlike old fashion 3-D glasses in our world ) with swirling, swifting patterns in the thin, plastic lens.

Real X-Ray Spectacles confer the power to see through solid matter, though things seen are not in color and somewhat hazy.  This is uneffected by illumination.  Vision range is 20 feet, and the viewer can see through 1 foot or so of most materials with concentration, though only 1 inch of solid metal, with a round's concentration.  Without concetration, the wearer can see through no more than a quarter of an inch, which mainly makes them good for seeing through clothes.  Even without concetration, they see through illusions of most types.
The unknown manufactures of the spectacles make a shoddy product which extraplanar energies.  Repeated use or extended wear of the spectacles (more than once a day, or for more than 2 mintues) requires a saving throw or else suffering 1 point reduction in Constitution.  Every day the spectacles are in a person's possession (and not kept in a lead-lined or magically warded container) has a cumulative 5% chance of attracting the unwanted attention of malign astral entities.

Highlights from the Dungeoneering Medicine Conference

In 5887, the City Medical Society hosted a symposium on unusual maladies seen among delvers and possible treatments. Here are a few of the highlights:

Spectral Encounter-Induced Cataracts: J.H. Shaxwell discussed a series of cases of cataracts resulting from close encounter with incorporeal undead. Shaxwell theorizes this is the result of negative energy exposure.

Care of the Soul-Dislocated Patient: Trelane Cantor described the care provided unfortunates who have had their astral bodies separated via thaumaturgy. Emphasis was placed on environmental safety.

A Case of Amathocosis: A unique pneumoconiosis resulting from inhalation of the particulate matter left after a demilich encounter was described by Nyland Tonsure.

Antibiotic Resistance of Infernal Acquired Venereal Disease: Villard M. Sturm warns that succubi derived sexually transmitted diseases often required potent alchemical intervention.

Warlord Wednesday: Forever Man

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...

"Forever Man"

Warlord #86 (October 1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Mike DeCarlo.

Synopsis: At the end of annual #3, Morgan and crew had returned to their proper time and were reunited with their allies—and Morgan with his mate Tara. Celebration is cut short by a rock wall from the ceiling that separates Morgan from the rest of the group in a previously undiscovered room. It seems to be someone’s apartment, and Morgan quickly discovers whose, as the Hooded Man in Black phases through a wall and accuses him of theft!

Morgan and the man get into a fight, with Morgan not doing so well. They struggle for the man’s pistol, and manage to catch part of his precious library on fire. Scarhart manages to s shift the stone in front of the door so Morgan and the man can avoid burning up too.

Without his hood, the gang recognizes the man as Reno--but they had left him ancient Atlantis! Reno finally recognizes Morgan, as well, and begins to tell his story. He and the other pilots were stranded in Atlantis, but they made the best of it by shepherding Atlantean civilization to new advances in technology. The only place to safely deposit their chronal energy saturated stuff was ironically the cave where they would one day build it. The cave became some sort of point outside time, accessible from the past and the future. Reno and the others built the swan-ships and established a noble order of peacekeepers (wearing copies of Morgan’s helmet—or what would one day be Morgan’s helmet) to protect the realm.

Unfortunately, this Golden Age doesn’t last. All the others eventually age and die—only Reno seems to be immortal due to his multiple chronal energy exposures. He withdraws from the world but watches in disgust and Atlantis slides again into depravity and sadistic games with the beast-changer machine. Eventually he leaves Atlantis behind and returns to the cave. He uses the cave’s unique properties to travel through history, observing famous events.

Meanwhile, Jennifer Morgan, Ashir, and Tinder are still in the same predicament we left them in issues ago. An unconscious Tinder is being menaced by a spider-thing while the others search the cave for him. The monkey-like creature Tinder had rescued returns the favor by distracting the creature.  The monkey manages to drag the boy to safety and Jennifer shows up and blasts the spider but doesn't find Tinder.

Morgan is downcast as the Shamballan ship sets sail back to Skartaris. Not only are the saucer-ships and equipment too “hot” with chronal radiation to remove from the cave, but Reno has to stay behind alone, as well. As they emerge from sea tunnel, Morgan sees that things can always get worse as they’re sailing right into the middle of a pitch naval battle!

Things to Notice:

• The timey-wimey stuff of this storyline is fully explained--not that it makes it any less confusing.
• Reno's decision to stay in the cave with the ships is strangely handled off panel.

Where It Comes From:

Like last issue, this one is mostly about dying up dangling plot threads.  "Forever Man" is a song by Eric Clapton, but that song wasn't released until 1985--after this issue.

Candy Zombies

Originally the flight of fantasy of a deranged alchemist with a sweet tooth, candy zombies now seem to be produced continuously in small quantities in the City by parties unknown. These poorly-formed, jelly confection figures aren’t actually undead but resemble zombies in their shambling, occasional moaning, and slack-jawed, vacant stares.

Candy zombies are prepared at the size of about 1.5 inches, however, they grow to roughly man-size over the next 24 hours if prepared properly. They can move their limbs from a few minutes after creation, but don’t take their first steps until they are perhaps 10 hours old. When fully grown, they are like normal zombies in most respects, except that they are susceptible to water--a river or fire hose can dissolve them in 2-20 minutes.

Perhaps the strangest danger of the candy zombies is in their exquisite sweetness. Any human that gets a taste of the candy zombie’s substance (whether by an accidental bite during a grapple or purposefully) must make a saving throw vs. disease or become addict to the taste of candy zombie, willing to do anything to obtain more unless cured by magical means.

Easter Bunnies

I hope the bird who laid those eggs doesn't come looking for them.

Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat

It can be found in secondhand stores and pricey boutiques. It’s been worn by socialites, gun molls, and even grandmothers. No one who has succumbed to the dubious fashion temptation of the so-called leopard skin pillbox hat has been left unchanged.

Nothing is known about the leopard that originally wore the fur, but the hat was cut from a larger garment--a magical raiment worn by generations of protectoresses of the Ebon-Land wilds, the Leopard Women. Some of these warrior women were native Black folk, others white-skinned foundlings. Whatever their origins, they were each imbued with a portion of a wild spirit of that ancient land.

It all came to an end at the hands of a jealous huntress--or so the story goes. Fearing she would lose her man to the wild beauty, she did what legend said no man had been able to do. She killed a leopard woman, and claimed her vestments.

This story may only be so much pulp fiction. What is undisputed fact is that there exist possibly as many as three pillbox hats of leopard skin that can corrupt their wearers with a bestial spirit. Slowly, the spirit of the hat works to make the owner more short-tempered and predatory in her interactions with others (failing a saving throw as with lycanthropy). This spirit, invisible to anyone else, will at times be visible to the owner as a mirror image of herself, dressed in a leopard skin outfit.

The wearer will be goaded by this other personality into increasingly antisocial acts to further her goals (if alignment is used, it changes to Chaotic). While no visible physical transformation occurs, the owner develops (over 2-16 days) the uncanny ability to perform the physical feats of the leopard (climbing, jumping, stealth, etc.). Note that the owner does not to have to wear the hat any more frequently than once every 3 days for the change to take place, as long as they remain the owner (meaning it is not out of their possession for more than 7 consecutive days).

The outcome of the transformation is often death or imprisonment for the owner. Somehow, the hat always seems to make its way back to retail afterwards, though it make take months for this to occur.

The ultimate goal of the beast spirit seems to be vengeance against civilization. It may be that it can be placated with the appropriate ritual, but no one has yet discovered it.

The Blackmailer and the Baboon

In last night's Weird Adventures game, Creskin and Don Diabolico set out to help poor, wayward deb Sue Ann Wilde who'd been taken advantage of by her ex-boyfriend--the now deceased ghoul, Dean.  Dean had taken her to a antiquarian book dealer, Leland Throne, who dabbled in photography--specifically, compromising photos he could presumably sell to private collectors or use as blackmail.

Diabolico got to show off his gentleman thief skills by getting them into Throne's book shop in the middle of the night.  A hidden ledger and a stray picture of Sue Ann let the boys know they were on the right track.  They confirmed Throne was planning to call Sue Ann's wealthy father for blackmail.

The two paid a visit to Throne's residence on the Upper Eld Side. They discovered that Throne had gaudy tastes in home furnishings--and had a pet baboon!

Not wanting to tangle with a baboon and Throne in the middle of the night, our heroes returned rested (and spell replenished) the next day when Throne was at work.

A quick sleep spell put the the baboon down.  Rummaging through Throne's stuff turned up a lot of risque photos--including the ones of poor Sue Ann.  They also found the vial with the potion Throne had used to drug her and another with potion of bull's vigor--which the local pharmacist implied was a sexual enhancement. 

So they don't come off as too altruistic, I should point out that Creskin and Diabolico robbed both Throne's backroom safe at work and his strongbox at home.  They even stole his camera and the decorative (maybe) scimitar hanging on the wall over his bed.  Maybe we can file that all under "getting what he deserved?"

Warlord Wednesday: Full Circle (Part 4)

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...

"Full Circle"

Warlord Annual #3 (1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Mike DeCarlo.

Synopsis: Daamon has absconded with a saucer timeship—and Shakira. Morgan isn’t about to let a “second rate Deimos” get away from him. He and Krystovar pursue on skysleds.

The saucer begins to malfunction. Morgan flies alongside and tells Shakira to jump. When she does, he grabs her with the tractor beam. Daamon manages to bring the ship down in one piece, but then he disappears in flash of chronal radiation into the space between time and no-time (wherever that is). And then there’s the Red Moon:

Back in the Atlantean city our heroes attend a celebration in their honor. Reno can’t enjoy it, because he still hasn’t found a way to free the other timeships from the void. Shakira and Morgan take him over to Daamon's Red Moon-tech sanctum, and Reno’s mood begins to improve. In a few days, he’s got the machines rigged up and is able to pull the other ships from the timestream. The problem now is that they still are leaking chronal radiation and will need to be stored somewhere.

Atlantean guards bring Daamon’s wife and child to Morgan so he can decide their fate. Morgan knows that to let the child live will lead to Deimos being born—and all the pain that the demon priest caused in his life. Still, Morgan can’t kill an innocent. He tells the men to let them go.

Reno calls Morgan over. Morgan turns to see…himself and his friends from back at the beginning of this whole storyline! This time, our heroes experience what they only observed last time.

The chronal fog rolls in and they're transported back to the underground weapons cache they started from. Morgan is reunited with Tara.  He realizes this cave is the perfect place to store the saucerships, because—well, that’s where they found them to begin with.

For those at following at home, Krystovar and Morgan summarize what we’ve learned in this arc:

Things to Notice:

• Morgan and Shakira seem to specially put back on their future clothes just to make sure their dressed correctly to meet their past selves.
• Daamon's disappearance into the time void leaves open the option of him returning at some point.

Where It Comes From:

At last, we get back to the paradoxical meeting this storyline started out with back in issue #79. Morgan's refusal to kill Daamon's wife and infant son of course forms a poignant counterpoint to Deimos (their descendant) forcing Morgan to kill his own infant (albeit cloned and rapid-aged) son.

Waxy

Here's some new art by Loston Wallace for a little Weird Adventures project for Gen Con.  This is Waxy Moldoon. His story illustrates how fortune and failure can sometimes go hand and hand in the City. Waxy was a sadsack wiseguy wannabe, until an chance meeting with Mr. Scratch (if there's such a thing) left him something more--and less--than human.  Waxy's flesh seems to be melting--slowly.  A touch of his uncovered flesh can pass his condition on to others, in a more acute form. Anybody touched by Waxy who fails a saving throw will find his or her flesh beginning to liquify.  Success at a second saving throw means the liquification stops a point where the victim is still alive, though not much more than a lumpen mass.  Failure means the victim dies leaving only a puddle.  The process takes d100 hours.

Waxy's power has gotten him closer to being the big shot he always wanted to be.  He's got soldiers behind him, and he's an up and comer in the City's underworld, but he still isn't happy.  Everybody Waxy's touch sends oozing into oblivion is another reminder just what maybe waiting for him one day.

Titans, Wrathful and Otherwise

 

Based on the previews I was hoping Wrath of the Titans would be a bit better than its predecessor, the 2010 remake of Clash of the Titans. Unfortunately, it largely has the virtues and flaws of the first film. It has a couple of interesting locales (a forest filled with traps and cyclopes, and Tartarus as an ever-shifting labyrinth), but overall it has less spectacle than the "similar in plot but more visually interesting in a stagey way" Immortals (2011).

If you’re looking for rpg inspiration in the area of titans (clashing or wrathful), I’d suggest forgoing all these films and checking out John C. Wright’s fantasy trilogy, "The Chronicles of Chaos" (Orphans of Chaos (2005), Fugitives of Chaos (2006), Titans of Chaos (2007). The series tells the story of five unusual orphans, who have lived their lives as the sole attendees at a British boarding school. It turns out that the five teens aren’t orphans at all, but hostages, securing a truce in the primal war between the Prelapsarian Titans and the Cosmos created by the renegade Cronus. Of course, the teens escape.

The five titan children each wield a different magical paradigm: Quentin practices sorcery and treats with spirits, Colin has the psychic ability to make reality conform to his will, Victor can manipulate matter on a molecular level, Amelia can perceive and tweak higher order dimensions, and Vanity can create doors and has a magic boat. The paradigms (and the paradigms of their foes, the Olympians) act in a “rock, paper, scissors” fashion that is not only clever but eminently gameable.

Wright’s modern world of hidden mythological beings has some resemblance to similar media, but he works with things in fresh ways. Grendel’s mother is the “mother of monsters” Echidna. The master artificer Telchines are more or less robots. The Laegystronians are literally Martians.

While the series seems ready made for something like White Wolf’s Scion (though Wright initially came up with the idea for a campaign in the Amber rpg), there are rich details that could be swiped for almost any game.

Rarebit Fiends

Try as they might, the Dream Lord and his gnomish Sandmen can’t keep all nightmares quarantined in Slumberland. And perhaps they don’t always try; there are always rumors of rogue Sandmen taking bribes to smuggle oneiric nasties. In any case, some nightmares do escape and return to the Material Plane. Bugbears are a common example, but there are lesser (and lesser known) nightmare forms collectively called “rarebit fiends,” as they seemed to have emerged from the sort of strange dreams that seem to follow an evening's indulgence in a too-rich meal. Here are a few examples:

Hebephrenic Stag: Sometimes it’s known as simply “The Gump,” a name of unknown derivation. The mounted stag’s head appears on a wall and begins to laugh madly and incessantly at anything the homeowner does. It will appear as a normal taxidermied specimen when anyone else is present to see it, but its raucous noise can be heard by others--and is almost invariably attributed to the home owner. It can be appeased and moved to silence by placing an opened can of dog food made from horse meat beneath it on the night of the new moon.

Voluptua Lilies: Lascivious plants that seek to seduce the receiver (generally a woman) into heedless pleasure. Those failing a saving throw are enthralled (as per spell) by the delicate caress of the flowers. Victims have, on rare occasions, been so enraptured that they allowed themselves to die of dehydration rather than give up the lilies' embrace.

Moonface: Scholars disagree on whether this fiend actually inhabits the moon (or its image) or merely the mind of the victim perceiving it. In any case, a mostly grinning, perhaps inebriated-appearing face appears on the moon (or it’s image.or in the perceiver’s mind). In a vague but definitely foreign accent the moon rambles on almost incoherently, yet the victim will be convinced the monologue is a mocking commentary on his or her actions. Men have been driven to desperate acts including suicide and murder under the moonface’s unforgiving glare.

"Hello, Nurse!": Healing in the City

The adventurer's life in the City is made a little less convenient by the absence of readily available clerical healing.  True faith healing is rare (though claims of it are a bit more common), and priests that bother to learn thaumaturgy don't usually spend a lot of time on the simple healing arts.  Medical technology is, of course, more advanced than in your standard Medieval setting, but accessing it sometimes brings questions adventurer-types would rather avoid.

The corner drug store offers a solution. On its shelves, various alchemical tonics and medications can be found that offer restored energy and faster healing. Many of these function similarly to standard cure light or (less commonly) medium wounds potions found in other worlds, but with an important difference: They offer the equivalent healing of 8 hours of restorative sleep plus enhanced energy in the form of temporary hit points. These dissipate within 12 hours.

Further consumption can extend this time period, but at diminishing returns. Consuming another dosage within a 24 hour period confers only temporary hit points--and these last 6 hours.  Further doses do nothing--most of the time.  Sometimes they shock the system and act as a poison causing light wounds.

Though Union laws require drugs to be pure, no human or animal testing is required prior to marketing. Sometimes alchemical medications have unintended consequences, and there are rare and tragic instances where they are outright toxic.  It's probably best to consume them only as directed by a physician.

Warlord Wednesday: Full Circle (Part 3)

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...

"Full Circle"

Warlord Annual #3 (1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Mike DeCarlo.

Synopsis: Morgan is determined to use one of the saucer ships to go after Shakira over the objections of Reno, who warns of the damaged ship’s instability. Krystovar (perhaps noting he hasn’t had anything to do in several issues) is willing to take the risk with Morgan.

The two fly up toward the red moon which looks familiar to Morgan but he can’t remember where he might have seen it (perhaps too many blows to the head in previous issues?). Only when skysleds are flying at them shooting energy blasts does Morgan remember the Alces Shirasi and the Red Moon. Our heroes manage to land in the moon’s hangar. They fight their way through a group of aliens and hole up in a laboratory.

There they find the misshapen survivors of the Alces Shirasi experiments. Morgan recalls his brief stint as a Bull Man, leading Krystovar to realize that these aliens must have been the source of the Atlantean beast maker technology.

One of experimental subjects (one of the few who can talk) gets their attention and begs them to free him. The subject tells them where Shakira is most likely being held—and just in time, as the aliens manage to break into the lab. The subject quickly frees others of his kind. They lay into the aliens as our heroes escape.

The aliens plan to use their machines on Shakira, hoping to make her a brood mare for the continuation of their race.

Morgan and Krystovar bust in and demand Shakira be freed. Morgan punctuates his demand with a bullet through the head of one of the aliens. Unfortunately, the crafty aliens throw up a force-field and trap our heroes. The leader gloats about turning them into amebas, but then:

It’s revenge of the failed experiments! They start massacring the aliens and free Morgan and Krystovar to go after Daamon, who took off with Shakira thrown over his shoulder during the fracas. The enraged rejects manage to start a chain reaction in the moon’s reactor core.

To be concluded

Things to Notice:

• Morgan's got a bad memory--or maybe just a plot convenient one.
• Reactor cores are (strangely) one of the most under-protected things on spheroid spacecraft.

Where It Comes From:

The Red Moon-God is revealed to our protagonists to be the alien race the Alces Shirasi, last seen in issue #18--though astute readers knew this last issue.  This issue plugs what previously appeared to be a plot hole: "How did the Atlanteans get the same beastmaker device the aliens had?"

Dungeon Games

Like a whole lot of other people in America, I caught The Hunger Games this weekend. I’ve never read the book--I actually kind of avoided it as a young adult, Running Man/Battle Royale ripoff. Apparently, I was a little hasty in my judgement, because I enjoyed the movie quite a bit.

One of the author’s stated inspirations was the myth of Theseus. Young heroes, mazes, and monsters suggest a way that a sort of Hunger Games set-up could be adapted to a typical fantasy rpg set-up.

Sure X-Crawl does some of this, but it's set the in modern day, and seems to view its dungeoncrawlers as celebrity athletes, borrowing inspiration from Running Man to a degree. Things might go a bit differently when (Like The Hunger Games), one plays up more of a American Idol-esque reality show contest aspect. And of course, there’s the sacrifice-chosen-by-lottery part.

Say some great empire (possibly magical or even magitech) demands a tribute of youths from its conquered territories. These teens are given a bit of training then sent into the labyrinth--or dungeon. Other than perhaps multiple monsters, that's pretty much the Theseus set-up, but an empire with D&D-ish magic at its disposal can get a lot closer to the media saturated world of The Hunger Games. Maybe the empire keeps it’s citizens happy bread and circuses style with remote-viewed observation of the dungeon doings.

The set-up would raise some interesting questions. Did the decadent empire build the dungeons for this purpose (and magically create the monsters therein) or are they just exploiting them? Is there a way the young dungeon-crawlers can turn their new abilities and the skills they’ve gained to their advantage?

Scientia Potestas Est

[This relates to my previous "Apocalypse Under Ground" posts, so take a look.]

Wizardry is a curse on all mankind.

This is what the common folk say, and sages acknowledge the rise of arcane knowledge went hand in hand with the emergence of the underground--perhaps more than once in history. Wizards are aware of how they are viewed (and feared) and are unconcerned. When you’ve held the words that encapsulate the true forms of reality in your mind--when you’ve experienced true gnosis--you’re above petty concerns.

Practitioners of the arcane art have always existed. Mostly they’re solitary, exploring their art removed from the intrusion of the mundane world. The opening of the underground changed that. It's entrances glowed like an arcane beacon. Those who might have lived their whole lives without ever knowing they had the talent were transformed by what they encountered, reborn into a new world--if they survived their first delve.

The old wizards came out of seclusion to tutor these fledging sorcerers--and to use them them to grow their own power with secrets wrested from below. In time, the adventuring wizards came to surpass their masters, sometimes frighteningly so. These new grandmasters took apprentices of their own, for much the same reasons--though as wizards grow older and more steeped in the arcane, their thoughts and desires sometimes grow more alien, and their whims more capricious.

One question above all concerns the grandmasters, though they seldom speak of it, even in their rare conclaves of peers: Does the arcane have a life of it’s own? Does the symbolary that is Man’s closest approximation of the true description of the universe have its own agenda? If so, does it favor Man--or the Monsters?

Snake, Giant Constrictor

Science has validated this scene from Milius's Conan.  Titanoboa cerrejonensis is the largest snake every discovered at up to 50 feet long, 3 feet in diameter at the thickest part of its body, and weighing in at 2500 pounds.  The giant constrictor in the 2nd Edition Monster Manual would be puny in comparison at a mere 30 feet in length--though that would be about the size of Gigantophis, the second largest snake ever discovered

Because the size of anything becomes more relatable when compared to a city bus, here you go:

There's also this life sized model in Grand Central Station (there's a SyFy original in that), captured in mid-swallow:

Titanoboa slithered through the Paleocene, around 58-60 million years ago, but records from that period are spotty at best.  There were probably a few around in ancient Atlantis or Lemuria, or some other forgotten continent.

Brain-Eating Beatniks

Is how the wizard "Amazing" Kreskin described their foes in the graveyard of Barrow Island.  In last night's Weird Adventures game (in Lorefinder), Boris, Kreskin, and Don Diabolico were ambushed by ghoul hooligans out for dangerous kicks.  The punks got danger in a lethal dose: The fact that that were teenagers didn't spare them from the guns of our hardboiled adventurers.  Only one of the three attackers escaped with his life.

The trouble with ghouls didn't stop there.  The casket of John Vandemaur (what the guys had been hired to get) had already been removed from the family crypt.  A little investigation led them to another crypt with the sounds of jazz and poetry recitation coming from within.  Stealthy scouting by Diabolico revealed a number group of young ghouls who not only had the casket they were looking for, but were in the company of the missing debutante, Sue Ann Wylde.

Kreskin's pulled a little hypnotism on them allowed the casket and the girl to be extracted with a shot being fired.  The poetical rebel that led the band of miscreants didn't go down so easy, though.  He had a head full of aklo and was plugged into the dread outsider gods of the anarchists.  He pulled a switchblade made of swirling darkness.  Fortunately for our gang (and unfortunately for the kid) he wasn't impervious to bullets.

Retreiving the casket led to more surprises.  Inside wasn't the body of John Vandemaur, but instead the quite living (and angry), Indrid Bliss.  Bliss was bond and magically gagged by somebody.  He was evasive about how this happened, and who did it, but he seemed to blame John Vandemaur--who he said was still very much alive.

Bliss wasn't much inclined for conversation.  He tried to escape once by a dimenson door, only to be nabbed by Boris.  The group hoped that Heward Kane might be able to illuminate the situation more, but they were denied the opportunity to introduce him to Bliss by the intervention of a gargoyle who spirited Bliss away.

Checking in with Kane they find (unsurprisingly) that's he's at a loss to explain any of this--but he does tell them Viviane Vandemaur (the supposed widow) wants to meet with them.

To be continued.

Warlord Wednesday: Full Circle (Part 2)

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...

"Full Circle"

Warlord Annual #3 (1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Mike DeCarlo.

Synopsis: After a short ride into a canyon, the hunting party (see Part 1) encounters...The Dragon-Lizard!

Daamon explains that the greatest honor goes to the hunter who rides closest to the beast—and he offers Morgan a shot at it. As Morgan urges his mount closer, an arrow flies into its flank. The creature goes down, taking Morgan with it. Worse yet, they’ve attracted the dragon-lizard’s attention.

Shakira rides in to help him, though Morgan warns her against getting too close. After she lands a spear in the monster’s neck, it turns on her.

Morgan jumps on to its back and:

The monster falls dead. Daamon rides up and expresses his relief that neither of them was seriously hurt. Morgan doesn’t buy it—nor the “accident” that caused his mount to fall.

When they get back to the palace, one of Daamon’s lackeys tells him he has an urgent message from the herald of the Red-Moon God. Morgan has Shakira change it cat form to do a little spying as Daamon heads off in a hurry.

Daamon enters a private chamber with a computer and screen. An image of one of the Alaces Shirasi aliens appears. The alien wants to know about the ships that recently landed near the city. Daamon stalls, apparently not wanting to turn the ships over to the aliens. He’s save when the alien detects Shakira’s presence in the room.

Daamon blasts the cat with magic. His power not only traps her but transforms her back into human form. The alien wants her for experimentation. Daamon tries to protest, but the alien reminds him that he owes the Red-Moon for the technology they provided.

Meanwhile, Morgan and the others are working on the timeships. Reno’s figured out a way to use the timeships they have to draw the others out of null-time.

Morgan begins to wander what Shakira’s up to. On his return to the palace, he looks up just in time to see Daamon flying toward the Red Moon on a skysled--with an unconscious Shakira in tow. Morgan grabs one of Daamon’s lackeys and demands to know about the Red Moon. The man tells him that’s where the god dwells—and where Lord Daamon takes the sacrifices. Morgan’s response:

“I’ll see him in hell first!”

To be continued.

Things to Notice:

• We finally get the origin of the swan-ships.  S.W.A.N. is "Strategic Warfare Alternative, Non-nuclear"
• The Alces Shirasi are revealed--surprising no one.

Where It Comes From:

Though again we get a hunt with a nonaccidental accident like in issue #40.  The Red Moon-God is revealed to be the alien race the Alces Shirasi, last seen in issue #18.

Curse of the Wolf

Besides the usual sorts of lycanthropes, the City sometimes sees a rarer sort created by an elixir from the Outer Planes. Known as the Potion of Werewolfism, the magical elixir is thought to be brought to the Prime Material Plane by agents unknown from the Land of Beasts. It appears as a shockingly effervescent liquid of shifting color within a somewhat oversized test tube stoppered with a cork.

Imbibing the liquid has the immediate effect of transforming the drinker into an anthropomorphic wolf resembling the inhabitants of the Land of Beasts. Despite the startling change, people encountering the person for the first time in werewolf form will not react as if anything is unusual: such is the extraplanar magic of the potion.  This initial transformation lasts 1d100 minutes, but there is a 50% chance that the potion has given the imbiber the hiccups and each hiccup will bring a shift between forms. After the initial transformation, the imbiber will return to normal, but the wolf form will re-emerge ever night at sundown.

Persons suffering from this werewolfism aren't ravening beast like common lycanthropes but are compulsive carousers and cads. No attractive member of the opposite sex is safe from their crude come-ons. While in werewolf form a individual can be hurt, but quickly shrugs off any damage sustained (regenerating like trolls). They do not have any particular susceptibility to silver.

Victims of this “werewolf curse” often make themselves destitute with their spending and unwelcome in any night-spot in town with their skirt-chasing as they fulfill their wolfish appetites.

Wandering Through the Graveyard

Barrow Island now serves as the City's potter's field, but it has been the site of burials going back even to pre-colonial times.  It's located close to Empire Island in the Wyrd River.  Despite it's proximity, there are no bridges with the island as their destination.

The Mortuary Division of the City Department of Hospitals ships an average of around 200 corpses to the island weekly (as well as amputated limbs) from it's offices at Blackmoore Hospital.  The simple and unadorned pine boxes are laid three deep with a marker inscribed with a code by the barrow men.

The public is allowed limited visitation to the island. A ferry leaves from a terminal at the end of 14th Street.  Ferries leave from the terminal at ten in the morning and two in the afternoon.  The return trips from the Barrow Island docks leave at noon and four.  Non-official visitors at other times require special permission.

Here's a rough map of the island (scale: 1 in.=600 ft.):

The dark paths are paved or cobbled roads.  The lighter ones are trails or less well-kept routes.  The building at the junction of the paths is the mortuary headquarters.  Here photos and descriptions are kept on the unidentified bodies in the potter's fields, as well as older burial records of the other cemeteries (if they exist).  The buildings behind it are storage and some staff quarters, and the power plant (a former crematorium).

There are other buildings on the island: the decaying remnants of the former settlement and the shanties of barrow men.

In the south of the island, the dashed line represents the path of the Wychwire Bridge.  One support column of the bridge stands on the island and houses an elevator down from the bridge that can only be accessed with a key.

At night, when the barrow men cluster around their campfires and tell their macabre tales, the island becomes a more dangerous place.  Various forms of undead have been known lurk amid its crypts and mausoleums.  Ghouls (not undead--but cannibalistic) occasionally make in-rounds onto the isle before the Barrow Men can drive them off.  If the tales of the barrow men are to be believed, stranger less well-known horrors are sometimes encountered--but of course, the barrow men don't let truth get in the way of a good story. 

We've All Become God's Madmen

Art by Patrick Jones

[This view of clerics follows from my post "Apocalypse Underground"]

The clerics aren't priests. Before the underground was discovered, Man had priests--and gods whose intercession they sought. Their prayers had been in vain. The old gods had abandoned Man to the monsters.

Then the clerics came. Their gods were unyielding of personifications of law. They marked their chosen with fits, visions, and miracles of faith. Their precepts were few: Destroy chaos and evil, protect the innocent.

The monsters are (in the view of the clerics) chaos and evil manifest. The clerics wage a savage holy war against the denizens of the underground and are willing to martyr themselves in the service of their gods.

The clerics sometimes use titles of the old priestly hierarchy, but all clerical groups are cults founded around a charismatic leader who is considered strong in the faith due to the spiritual power he or she wields.

Down These Mean (Virtual) Streets

The inaugural session of my Google+ Weird Adventures game got off to a shaky start last night, plagued by several technical difficultes: we had sound issues, got kicked out of the hangouts, and had one would be player appear briefly and indistinctly like the monster reveal in a found footage horror film, before winking out never to return.

Still, I'm optimistic Lorefinder (the Pathfiner/GUMSHOE mashup) is going to work well for our purposes, and there was enthusiasm from the players despite the difficulties.

So far, the facts in the case are as follows:

A (self-styled) gentleman thief, a dapper wizard, and a bruiser of an urban ranger took a simple job for celebrity detective Heward Kane:

Kane was working for Viviane Vandemaur, a greiving widow, who was trying to take custody of the body of her dear departed husband, John.  John Vandemaur's Old Money family had never like his wife from the wrong side of the Eldritch River and had had him interred in the family crypt on Barrow Island against her wishes.  Viviane wanted her husband's remains moved a place of her choosing and had managed to get a judge to allow it.  Of course, that was only if the deed could be done before the Vandemaur family got word and put pressure on the legal system to change its mind.

So why hire three adventure-types?  Well, it seems there's been a bit of unrest out on Barrow Island.  Some sort of ghoul incursion.  The possibility of trouble.

Complicating matters even further, there's a debutante gone wild run off with a ghoul bad-boy.  What are the chances this wayward young lady is on the island, too?

I'd say pretty good--and the chance that it will mean more trouble for our heroes is also pretty good.

And what about that gargoyle the party caught sight off?  Was it shadowing them?  And why?

Stay tuned.