Stuck in My Head

I keep thinking about a post-apocalyptic fantasy plus super-science game, played in FASERIP, maybe. Something like a well-known toy and cartoon property, but less kiddy: like the equivalent of Savage Sword of Conan to its Conan the Adventurer.

A world where the heroes are like this:

And they fight foes like this:

In situations like this:

Mushroom Men

The Mushroom men or Myconoids are strange humanoids that emerged on Earth in the ages after Man.  Treated with mistrust by dwarves for their pranksterism and purveyance of psychedelic drugs, they'e friends of the satyrs (and some elves) for those same reasons.

These fungal sapients appear as tiny humanoids (6 inches to around 1 foot in height) wearing wide-brimmed hats--actually their “caps.” Leaders among them tend to have red caps while most others have powder blue.  Leaders may also have fleshy tendrils that give the appearance of a beard.

Mushroom men emerge from their underground collectives to explore the surface, trade with other races, or perform odd rituals under the full moon. Myconids are living chemical factories. They generate powdery toxins which they can blow into the faces animal species to cause hallucinations and confusion on a failed saving throw. They can generate other sorts of mind-affecting spores (such as sleep, amnesia, or hypnotism), which the red caps among them may release into the area once per day.

Owing to their fungal biology, Mushroom Men are hard to kill, despite their small size. They get a +2 to all nonmagic saving throws (except fire related), are immune to poisons unless specifically designed for them, and are 25% magic resistant.

MUSHROOM MEN: #App. 2-12; Move 60’; AC 4 HD 1 Atks: 1 (various special like toxin effects)

Warlord Wednesday: Sins of the Father...Fate of the Son"

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...

"Sins of the Father...Fate of the Son" (part 1)

Warlord Annual #4 (1985)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Pat Broderick; Inked by Bob Smith.

Synopsis: A group of Bog Men looking for mates attacks a group of Shamballan refugees making their way to their Queen’s camp. This proves to be a miscalculation, as the refugees are being guarded by Travis Morgan, the Warlord.

Meanwhile, Ashir and Jennifer have become convinced that Tinder stole the gem contained the essence of the Evil One from the locked chest in which Jennifer had placed it.  She casts a spell to find him, but when they locate the boy he doesn’t have the gem. They realize that Chakka—Tinder’s too smart simian friend—must have it.

Morgan is relating to his wife, Tara, his recent adventures when their interrupted by a cry—a cry like “a mixture of animal pain and evil personified.”  He runs toward the caverns it came from, but Jennifer, Ashir, and Tinder have already beat him there.

They find Chakka hunched over the gem.   He turns:

The Evil One has Chakka and he transforms the poor creature’s body into a hooved, demonic form.  Jennifer’s magic is ineffective and is Morgan’s sword.  The Evil One remembers Morgan from his last defeat.  Last time, his link was a relatively easily destroyed book, but this time it’s a gem that he places in his forehead to keep out of their grasp.

He uses his power to stick our heroes to the ceiling, planning to toy with them later—if they don’t starve before he returns.  Using her magic jewels and the powers of concentration of the entire group, Jennifer is able to free them.

But one can they possibly defeat the Evil One?  Jennifer has been reading some old scrolls Faaldren brought her from Castle Deimos, and she has an idea.  It turns out the Evil One had an earlier incarnation than the one they destroyed previously.  An incarnation that subjugated that era of the Age of Wizards, until:

The three came together and used their skills to forge a magic sword:

Baroth, last of the legendary Dragon-Lords, used the sword to slay the Evil One.  In dying, the Evil One cursed the sword so that any wielding it would eventually be dominated by bloodlust.  The blade became known as the Hellfire Sword….The Hellfire Sword Morgan chunked into a lake back in issue #43, lest it dominate him!  A woman’s hand had reached up from the lake and taken the sword.

They need it back. Luckily, Jennifer has an idea where they might get it.  Tara is worried the curse will return, but Morgan points out they don’t have a choice.  Jennifer transports the two of them away with her magic.

TO BE CONTINUED

Things to Notice:

• Morgan and Shakira are riding the tricorns they got in the previous issue.

Notes:

The Age of Wizards we see in this issue seems more cod-Tolkienish than the more Wizards-esque Age of Wizard Kings from the Grell issues.

Let's Go to the Video...

In case you haven't see enough of me on video, here's another I chance.  I hosted a round table--this one between Evan, Jeremy, Richard and Robert, wherein they discuss their cool rpg settings in the science fantasy vein.

Check it out.  At least skim it for the good parts--and then check out their blogs.

Summer Reading

I’ve been building up a stack of new fiction that I ought to start getting around to reading. Here are a few I’ve got in the queue. If you’ve read any of them you can let me know what you think I ought to check out first.

My most recent purchase is the new novel by China Mieville. Railsea seems to be a riff on Moby Dick where giant moles are hunted by train on a (maybe) post-apocalyptic terrain crisscrossed by railroad tracks. An interesting setting idea, I think, and Mieville seldom disappoints in that regard.

I picked up Southern Gods by John Hornor Jacobs in Night Shade Books’ sale a few months back, but it had been on my mental list of books to buy for some time. It certainly seems Weird Adventures relevant: A Memphis DJ hires World War II vet Bull Ingram to find mysterious bluesman John Hastur, whose music (broadcast by a pirate radio station) is said to drive men insane and raise the dead.

Snake Moon (also from Night Shade) is by Ray Manzarek, formerly of The Doors. This one may be more Wampus Country that Weird Adventures--though the jacket keeps the plot a bit obscure. It involves a farmer leaving rural Tennessee in 1863, that much is clear. It’s called “a Civil War-era parable of Eden.” It’s got a Mike Mignola cover which probably was the main thing enticing me to by it.

So that’s it for now--though or Goolge+ Pulp Fantasy book club promises to inject some old favorites. And it’s only July.

If You've Ever Wondered...

I'm kind of tired of packing and unpacking--having just got home from Cincinnati.  I have not the energy to whip up an original blog entry for you folks, today.  However, I've updated the Weird Adventures Index with some posts you might have missed.

First off, peruse the "Highlights from the Dungeoneering Medicine Conference." Then check out some "Wonders from the Planes." Finally, flip through the City's photo album with my very first picture post from 2010 "Images from the City"--or if that doesn't suit you, you can attend "The Wizard's Estate Sale."

Night at the Capricorn

When visiting Losantiville in the Steel League, one might want to visit the bar at the opulent Capricorn Hotel. It’s two floors with a central bar and a pianist providing entertainment.

Of course, there are--oddities. Sometimes, magically sensitive individuals get a feeling they’re being watched.  This is particularly acute in the vicinity of the ram’s head relief on the wall between the staircases, behind the piano.  This might bring to mind rumors of cults going back to frontier times. The black goat they served (according to some stories) was either a pagan god of fertility, a capo of the Hell Syndicate--or both.

Other stories suggest the goat wasn't a deity--at least not at first.  Instead, the original black goat was a human sacrifice who insured the communities continued prosperity by receiving the weight of its sins.  Over time, the misplaced guilt of Losantiville became an entity unto itself, a grim spectre of retribution.

If one’s alone, it’s best not to drink too much or linger near closing time. Old gods may weaken, but seldom die.

Warlord Wednesday: Skartaris Revealed

Still out of town, so the meat of Warlord Annual #4 must wait another week.  However, I thought I'd put up the map of Skartaris that appeared in that issue.  Long time followers of this blog will protest that I've posted this map before (and I have) but for the first time I'm posting the key and discussion that appeared along with it in that issue:

From Where?

Real life has intruded on my blogging.  My current location is the home of Superfriends' Hall of Justice--or at least its real world stand-in.  Any guesses as to where that might be? (no internet searching now!)

Anyway, From the Sorcerer's Skull will return to its regular programming as soon as possible.

Tourist in Other Worlds

While I’m increasingly ambivalent about Google+ overall, I’m completely positive on gaming via Hangouts.  Not only have I been playing my Weird Adventures game there, I’ve gotten a chance to play with some other bloggers in their games.

Twice now, Horvendile Early, gambler and pistoleer, has ventured forth into the wilds of Erik’s Wampus Country. Orwendill, fighter and artist (of tasteful nudes) has had one outing with that dubious coterie, the Nefarious Nine, in Chris Kutalik’s Hill Cantons.  Tonight, an as yet unnamed Chaos-tainted soldier from a grim future is going to kill things as a part of a Warband courtesy of Mike Davison.

I’m also playing in Scott’s (he of the Huge Ruined Pile) strict textualist AD&D game, though that’s play by post via G+.

The gaming itself is great, after so much writing about gaming, but what I may like even more is getting to put a face and voice to all those posts I’ve read.  I suppose that sort of connecting with folks in a shared hobby is exactly the sort of stuff social media is suppose to for.  

That and pictures of cute animals with humorous captions.

Planet of the Elves

Here are some images from the future world where Man is only a dim memory...

Many young elves heed the call to adventure, despite the fact their simple and pleasure-loving society sees their actions as odd--perhaps even aberrant.  The elvish word for "hero" carries the connotation of "fool."

The shimmering sprites are sometimes found in old forests.  These beings claim to be visitors from metal cities which circle the earth like the moon. Right-thinking dwarves don't believe such foolish tales.

Though their numbers are few, ancient dragons know many secrets and will impart them--for a price.

Mutated cultists haunt subterranean ruins.  Not only are they dangerous, but their ideas are theologically suspect.

Warlord Wednesday: Who's Who

Before I embarked on Warlord Annual #4, I though I should recap the major characters of the series for any new readers.  So here we go. The cast of Warlord:

The Warlord's family:

The Warlord - Travis Morgan: Former pilot in the USAF, he now fights injustice in the hollow world of Skartaris.

Tara: Mate of Travis Morgan, queen of the city of Shamballah.

Tinder (Joshua): The son of Morgan and Tara. Believed by his parents to be dead due to the machinations of the demon-priest Deimos, Joshua is known to them now as the former street urchin and sneak-thief, Tinder.

Jennifer Morgan: Skartaris's sorceress supreme. She's Morgan's daughter by his first (now deceased) wife. She followed her father to Skartaris but found her own destiny.

His companions:

Shakira: Women who turns into a cat or cat who turns into a woman? She keeps her secrets

Machiste: Former king of Kiro and Morgan's companion from his gladiator days.

Mariah Romanov: Machiste's lover. A Russian archeologist and fencing champion who came with Morgan back to Skartaris after he briefly returned to the surface world.

Ashir: King of Kaambuka. Self-styled second greatest thief in Skartaris.

Krystovar: A healer and seeker of ancient knowledge. He spent his life fighting the New Atlanteans for taking his brother.

Scarhart: Taciturn warrior and last of his tribe from a parallel world.

His enemies:

Deimos: The former priest of Thera, Deimos had mastered both magic and ancient Atleantean technology. After many return battles, he appears to have finally been killed.

Saaba: A witch with the ability to turn into a raven. She bears a grudge against Morgan and is now working with the New Atlanteans.

Lord Sabretooth: Beast-man and leader of the New Atlantean forces in Skartaris. He has sworn personal revenge against Morgan.

Methods of Magic: Dreadstar

I’ve been thinking about how magic is portrayed in works in various media and how there might be some tidbits that could enliven rpg magic.  I’ve delved in the broad strokes of different portrayals of magic before, but now I think I’ll look at some specific cases.  First up, Dreadstar.

Dreadstar is Jim Starlin’s comic book space opera about a group of super-powered rebels fighting the galactic theocracy, the Instrumentality. It’s got aliens, robots, psionic powers--and magic. Like in Empire of the Petal Throne (and the real world for much of history), magic in Dreadstar seems the province of people in special clerical orders which study and communicate with the gods of the Instrumentality and related supernatural forces. One of these groups (or perhaps the sole group) is named as the Order of Vieltoor. There are renegade or “infidel” sorcerers, but the only two we see in the series are unsual (one is the offspring of a human woman and a demon).

In the origin of Dreadstar’s sorcerous protagonist, Syzygy Darklock, we see him summoning a demon in usual ritual magic fashion. In the process, we are told that planes of reality exist, which are less adventuring places than metaphysical ones, and are depicted in a vaguely Ditko-ish manner.  We are told the gods store their power on “the eleventh level of reality.”

At the end of that story, Syzygy is said to have gained power perhaps equal to one of the Instrumentaility’s gods, which (if not hyperbole) is interesting given that he appears superhuman but can be knocked out by things that would kill a normal human.

While spells are spoken of (and named) in Dreadstar, they mostly seem to fall into the “magic as energy manipulation” territory. Spells appear to be patterns of energy that adepts can recognize, not formula. Perhaps there are mental algorithms associated with spells. We only see hand gestures, never incantations (except with rituals).

The most commonly utilized spell is the mystic bolt. This seems to come in degrees of strength from just injuring/damaging to disintegration. Flight and levitation appear nearly effortless--at least to the super-powerful Syzygy. Circular magical shields (which can shatter when hit with sufficient force) are frequently used--at one point a guy projects small versions of these from his eye! Cubic or spherical area shields seem to require more effort. Sufficiently powerful adepts are able to feel magical power in others like jedi sensing the force. Syzgy at least is able to quick open portals to places where tentacled things dwell.

There are limits to magical power. Expending too much can strain the sorcerer physically and cause him to lose consciousness. Things that significantly disrupt concentration (“hypersonic” beam directed into the skull) prevent the use of spells.

Overall, magic in Dreadstar shows its comic book origins. It bears a greater resemblance to sorcery in Doctor Strange than in literary fantasy. It's probably most easily modeled in a rpg system that accommodates superhero powers.

The Game is (Almost) Afoot!

With two Weird Adventures games about to kick off (one face-to-face with WaRP, and the other with Lorefinder on Google+), there are few rumors and events in the City that might be of interest to one or the other groups of players:

Cyrus Westerly died 10 years ago, but in accordance with his wishes, his estate has yet to be settled. Westerly’s lawyer and executor, Rothger Croston, has summoned the five potential heirs to the remote and decaying Westerly Mansion on the Eldritch, north of the City. It’s rumored the will has some eccentric provisions.

Barton Blanchefleur, Hell Syndicate “made man” and notorious germophobe, has got a new moll that fits his usual all-white wardrobe: a young dame with white hair.

Millionaire thaumaturgist, Charles Ranulf Urst, passed away a couple of months ago, and no one has yet to enter his mansion--everybody’s too afraid of magical traps. Interestingly, his lawyers (Shreck and Wail) have recently been seen in the City taking private meetings with adventurer types.

Terror Birds

Giant birds show up pretty frequently in fantasy art. The phorusrhacos and diatryma represent the group in game products, and are joined by fictional giant fightless birds. Check out this size comparison chart, though.  There's a whole untapped range of them:

Check out the size of the beak on Kelenken there.  It's the largest beak on any known bird.  An adventurer killing beak.

Now, all of those guys are sort of the usual suspect flightless carnivores. There's also the extinct Kairuku penguin which stood over 4 feet tall. 

700 posts and a hobgoblin

Some elves and dwarves fail to learn the lesson of the doom of Man and seek knowledge and power at any cost. Hobgoblins are the twisted remnant of elvish or dwarvish mages who were corrupted by their contact with the Outer Dark, bartering their souls either all at once or piecemeal, until they were transformed into something more--and less--than what they had been.

HOBGOBLIN
AC: 2 or better
HD: 5+
Attacks: claw (1d6)
Special: spells (as Magic-User of level equal to hit dice); chilling laugh (causes paralysis with fear in beings 4HD or below on failed saving throw)

Hobgoblins have lairs in creepy locales, dark plots and sinister henchmen (villainous elves or dwarves, cyborg monstrosities, demons, or umber hulks are possibilities). All hobgoblins are mad to one degree or another (feel free to roll on a Palladium rpg insanity table or the like). Sometimes their madness dilutes their evil purpose, but it also increases their unpredictability.

If brought to zero hit points, hobgoblins will often explode--messily.  They will reform by the next new moon unless their soul is found and destroyed.  Their souls are always kept hidden but generally close by.  They have the appearance of insects or other crawling things molded from congealed shadow--inky black, confection-sticky,and unpleasant in texture. These souls can be destroyed by fire or magic, but possessing one affords a means to leverage a hobgoblin to do the possessors bidding.


And that's 700 posts, folks.Thanks for reading!