Honor Among Thieves: How's Your Crime Organized?

Fantasy gaming thieves guilds often tend toward a sameness--basically they're a sort of unusual trade union, as initially envision by Fritz Leiber in his Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories. This was a fresh take on things when Leiber did it, but its time for a little more variety. After all, there are plenty of real world current and historical criminal organizations for inspiration, as well as some more recent fictional ones. Characteristics of these groups can certainly be used to add color to your usual fantasy world's thieves.

In looking at real world organizations, we find they often emerge among minority groups. Gangs formed in immigrant communities in the U.S., often for some degree of protection, and these developed into Irish and Jewish mobs, and the Chinese Tongs. The mafia didn't start in in an immigrant community, but the insular nature of these communities in the U.S. and elsewhere often allowed it to grow even more powerful. Even when the organizations' members are part of the larger culture, they many come from groups who are downtrodden for reasons other than just being poor. The yakuza, for instance, are thought to have formed from a combination of the trade organizations for gamblers and peddlers. Their ranks tended to be drawn from outcast enclaves where people who performed activities that were seen as "unclean" lived.

How often do fantasy thieves organizations have a distinct ethnic character--or at least, a history of a distinct ethnic character? Or how about if the make up of a thieves group reflected something interesting about the social stratification of the society in question?

Another common trait of real world criminal societies is that they function very much like other sorts of secret societies. They have esoteric rituals and customs beyond just an argot like thieves' cant. The yakuza traditionally had (or have) elaborate tattoos. The mafia, at least in fiction, has initiation rituals and distinctions between associate members and "made" men. Even the traditional trade union approach might suggest some sort of pseudo-masonic rites for a any self-respecting thieves guild.

Sometimes, criminal organizations have political agendas. Some, like the Chinese Triads, are thought to have formed in response to invasion. Certainly there are criminal enterprises in existence today with political axes to grind--though admittedly, these often cross the blurry line into terrorist organizations. Still, a thieves guild with that sort of ambiguous nature would be interesting, too.

Lastly, real world organized crime groups aren't monolithic, and there's no reason fantasy ones should be. Families or clans within a larger organization, make for intrigue and gang wars, and a lot of other fodder for adventuring. Are the families tighly controlled by a central authority, or is the peace more tenuous?  Perhaps there are actually competing organizations in an area with different rituals, organizations, and backgrounds?

Those are my suggestions. If I had to pick a few resources to get the creative juices flowing, their certainly a lot a of "mob movies" worth seeing that give examples of how organized crime structures work. Most of Scorsese's mob films would do the trick, as would the Sopranos. To move away from the modern, the manga Lone Wolf & Club and the movies based on it give interesting vignettes on a lot of aspects of feudal Japanese culture, including the yakuza. In literature, Scott Lynch's recent book The Lies of Locke Lamora gives a lot of detail about the structure and ritual of the "Right People" of Camorr, an organization inspired no doubt by various Italian criminal societies, in the same way that Camorr is inspired by Venice.

Stories in the Naked City

Here's an eclectic sampling of people from the streets of Terminus, most distant outpost of the fallen Thystaran empire, in the south of the continent of Arn:

Kro One-Eye: Alcoholic, and possibly consumptive, swordmaster. He either lost his left eye to a rebel in the Dharwood, or to an angry whore, depending on how deep into the cups he his when he gets 'round to the tale. He's a fixture in dives along Wine and Tavern Streets, regaling fellow patrons with daring (and dubious) tales of his youthful adventures, and the occasional demonstration of his skills. For a cup of watered wine he'll give a few pointers on use of the blade. For a bottle of good Kael whiskey, he'll take on a student. For a small cask of vintage Trosian Red, he'll fight at your side--as long as it doesn't take him far from the River District. (Looks like: Sam Elliott (with an eyepatch) circa Roadhouse; and Sounds like: Gary Oldman).

Nari: Dancing-girl and part-time professional mourner, residing in Copper Court. When not performing, her demeanor suggests she's seen it all and found most of it excruciatingly dull. When dancing, she can be found at the Quivering Navel, and in her off-hours she's often found smoking djesha-leaf resin from a waterpipe at Gelv's House of Innumerable Pleasures (where the pleasures are far from innumerable--perhaps only in the single digits). She can be relied upon to have heard a good deal of gossip and rumor, though she's also guaranteed not to have found much of it particularly interesting. (Looks like: Caroline Munro circa 1973).

The Gate Street Players: Ten thespians--six male, four female--operating out of a small theater on Gate Street. The Players tend to perform daring reinterpretations of the classics. Their current production is a take on Teleganexes' The Fall of Iztlann, where the traditionally male roles of protagonist Dyzanarios and his sword-brother Tekromo are played by women, and tragic ending is replaced by the two heroes--heroines--entering into a ménage à trois with Yla, the villainous witch-seductress. Their next production is to be the infamous Llysan work The King in Tatters, written by a madman, and performed just once--for the court of the Llysan Emperor the faithful night the execution of a peasant girl for diablerie failed, and the Emperor and his court died weird, and horrible deaths. Superstitious rumor holds the play is cursed and its performance opens a gate to dread planes. The Gate Street Players are undeterred.

Hrasthus Nort: Vagabond, beggar, and ambassador for the Vagrant City of Lardafa, the shanty-Atlantis of the Great Marsh. Nort, dressed like a ragged courtier come forth from the tomb after a half-century, is most often found around the the government offices, but sometimes takes a drink along Tavern Street. He carries a ragged sheet of sheepskin with the crudely drawn seal of Lardafa as a sign of his office, and is always accompanied by his similarly dressed attache--a mocking-monkey called Jip. Nort panhandles for coin, proselytizes to the poor about the wonders of Lardafa, and waits for his never-to-come audience with the Governor-Prefect. Sometimes, after a few drinks, he hints of ancient, eldritch things discovered in the depths of the swamp, dark bargains struck by Lardafa's Burgomaster Jero Flistapp, and a growing, unspoken fear among the city's populace. (Looks like: "Gabby" Hayes; and Sounds like: Brian Cox as Jack Langrishe in Deadwood).

Yreel Dahyût: One of the few women in the city watch, and the only officer currently. Dahyût is tall, and beautiful, if somewhat severe, in her always polished armor and spotless uniform. The deference granted her, and her bearing and diction, suggest an origin among the minor noble families of the Tabeidonian or Vararian Towers. Cursory inquiries would reveal this to be false. Dahyût has no family--indeed she has no history at all. She simply appeared one day as a high-placed and respected member of the watch. The purpose of this subterfuge, and the means by which is was accomplished remain unanswered questions. (Looks like: Kristanna Loken).

Swords & Stop-Motion

The tv promos for the upcoming Clash of the Titans remake has got me thinking about the fantasy films of animator Ray Harryhausen and the impact they had on both my love of fantasy and fantasy gaming. The only one of these films I saw in the theater at its original release was Clash of the Titans from 1981, but the others playing as a network TV movies of the week, or on a Saturday afternoon in the early days of cable, were treasured treats. Before the today's digital effects, the stuttering vibrancy of Harryhausen's creations gave the fantastic a weight and reality that cel animation and men in unconvincing suits couldn't hope to match.

Ray Harryhausen got his start on George Pal's Puppetoon shorts. Pal was later to be the animator responsible for effects in 1953's War of the Worlds and 7 Faces of Dr. Lao. Then Harryhausen worked as an assistant to Willis O'Brien, the animator for the original King Kong, on 1949's Mighty Joe Young. In 1953, Harry Harryhausen was the primary animator on his first feature, The Beast from 50,000 Fathoms.

It was in 1958 that Harryhausen made his first fantasy adventure film, and his first foray into the previously unchronicled adventures of Sinbad of 1001 Arabian Nights fame. The 7th Voyage of Sinbad has never held the attraction for me that the seventies Sinbad films do, but it does have a dragon, a two-headed roc, and the iconic goat-legged cyclops.

7th Voyage featured a fight with skeletons, a set-piece Harryhausen would reuse in 1963's Jason and the Argonauts. This one's got an appearance by the Second Doctor, Patrick Troughton, as Phineas, but of course the big stars are the creatures--which include the hydra, the bronze giant Talos, and the harpies. The iconic moment in this film is skeletons sprouting from sown dragon's teeth to fight Jason while Jack Gwillim, as Aeëtes, gleefully overacts.

1973 and 1977 brought us The Golden Voyage of Sinbad and Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, respectively. The Golden Voyage had Danger: Diabolik's John Law in the lead, with the Fourth Doctor, Tom Baker, as an evil wizard, Koura. Depending on how old you were when you saw this, the stop-motion may have taken something of a backseat to the obvious charms of Caroline Munro as the slave-girl, Margiana. Still, it had a griffin, a centaur, and an animated statue of Kali. Eye of the Tiger (no relation to the Survivor song...probably) had Patrick (son of John) Wayne donning the blousy shirt as Sinbad, and doubled the feminine pulchritude with Jane Seymour as Princess Farah, and Taryn Power as Dione. Sinbad and crew go to Hyperborea with an alchemist (Patrick Troughton again) to find a cure for Farah's brother who's been changed into a baboon, by the witch Zenobia who's got a mechanical minotaur called the Minaton. We also get a giant walrus, insectoid ghouls, and a sabretooth tiger.

Harryhausen's heyday came to an end with 1981's Clash of the Titans. Like Jason, this was another foray into Greek mythology, with a few extra-mythic flourishes. Hey, records from that period are spotty at best. Maybe there was a clockwork owl, and a mishapen Calibos? I could do without the neon nimbus around the head of Zeus, though. The coolest thing in Clash has to be the kraken, followed closely by the phrase that heralds his appearances: "Release the kraken!"

By the eighties, stop-motion was beginning to seem quiant, and digital effects were on the horizon. Now we live in an era where whole worlds can be can be created with computer animation, not just individual creatures. I'm by no means a Luddite. I really enjoy digital animation and the vistas it's opened, but I do feel its ease and ubiquity has removed some of the specialness of Harryhausen's and other's stop-motion creations.

When I see a dragon these days, its going to be digital, the only question is its quality. But in the previous era, a dragon could be a bored looking iguana with a fin stuck on its back, or a product of craft and imagination--that was made all the more fantastic because it was unexpected.

Urban Decadence Made Easy

There are a lot great urban settings in fiction--Lankhmar, Shadizar the Wicked, Valkis, the Sprawl, and New Crobuzon, to name a few. As evocative as they are, these dens of iniquity pale against other colorful cities, made all the more interesting because they were real. Lankhmar never had prostitutes that advertised the particular fetish services they offered by various color combinations of boots and lacing, nor does even New Crobuzon sport boy-gangs with costumes like the Indian Chief in the Village People. Weimar Berlin had both. Want a place where adventurers roam streets run by crime-lords with sobriquets like Big Ears Du and Pock-Marked Huang? Look no further than 1930s Shanghai.

These two cities and more are found in two nonfiction resources, which will no doubt inspire in number of details for gaming cities and adventures to have, therein:

1920s Berlin is detailed in all its decadent, cabaret glory in Voluptuous Panic by Mel Gordon. Essentially an R-rated coffee table book (for people with R-rated coffee tables, I suppose) Gordon provides a lot of interesting text, too. He gives, for example, brief dictionaries of underworld slang, and a catalog of types of prostitutes (divided by indoor and outdoor) that's halfway to random encounter table. The focus is mostly on sex, but the expanded edition also has a chapter on the occult underground of the era.

Legendary Sin Cities is the DVD collection of a three-part, 2005 Canadian Broadcasting Corporation documentary. It lacks the detail of Voluptuous Panic, but makes up for it in scope. The three segments cover Paris, Berlin, and Shanghai, roughly over the 1920s and '30s. All three cities were, of course, drenched in vice, but each has its own character--Paris is jazz and art, Berlin is the last party in the looming shadow of Nazism, and Shanghai is a a crime-ridden cultural crossroads. At 210 minutes, the whole series is pretty short but enough to get a feel for the cities it profiles.

There are any number of ways either of these resources could be used to inform gaming. The context and character of the cities could be ported over to a fantasy world with only a little translation, or details could be yanked to add color to an already existing locale, or as a springboard for an adventure.

Regardless of their considerable inspirational value, they're fascinating windows into some interesting places and times.

The Marsh God

The Marsh God is a Sword & Sorcery graphic novel written by Bruce Durham and illustrated by Michael "Mikos" Mikolajczyk.  It's the story of the mercenary, Dalacroy, who's the sole-survivor of an ambush.  In making his way through the marsh, he picks up an escaped slave-girl as a companion, and they soon find themselves facing the sort of dangers that Sword & Sorcery protagonists are called upon to face, including the titular god.

When a friend sent me the link to the graphic novel, I didn't realize untl I began reading the sample that it was an adaption of Durham's short-story I'd read way back in the late, lamented Flashing Swords e-zine, when it was under the editorship of Howard Jones, now of Black Gate Magazine.  "The Marsh God" appeared in issue 2 (one of my humble efforts, "God of the Catacombs," appeared in issue 6--there were a number of "gods" and "marshes" in Flashing Swords).

"The Marsh God" is classic Sword & Sorcery in a Howard-esque vein--no big deviations from the formula, but it does what it does well.  Mikolajczyk's art stumbles at times, but when he's on he's got a nice style more illustratorly than most current comic book artists--somewhat reminiscent of Barry Windsor-Smith in his Conan days.  He obviously put a lot of work into the panels.

If the above sounds good to you, you should check it out.  I recommend it.

Warlord Wednesday: The Secret of Skartaris

Let's 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 Secret of Skartaris"
Warlord (vol. 1) #5 (February-March 1977)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell

Synopsis: Morgan and Tara bid farewell to Machiste, and head out for Shamballah with other homeward bound former freedom-fighters. An encounter with a tyrannosaurus forces Morgan and Tara to climb a cliff in hopes of escape. They manage to dislodge a boulder, which crushes the carnosaur, and in the process, they discover a hidden doorway.


Inside, they find a massive computer which, when accidentally activated, reveals the history of Skartarian civilization. Before the sinking of Atlantis, many fled the impending disaster, and one expedition finding its way through the arctic to the entrance to Skartaris. There the Atlanteans built a new civilization, which in time surpassed their previous one, due to eternal daylight unchaining them from sleep/wake cycles based on the sun.

Unfortunately, the city-states they built went to war. In only minutes, their civilization was in ruins. Generations later, the Skartarians began to climb back to "various stages of barbarism," but there also emerged bestial humanoids that had been mutated by lingering radiation. The computer discovered by Morgan and Tara had remained dormant until Deimos' use of the hologram apparatus had activated it.

Further explorations are cut short by the sudden attack of a pack of hyenadons. The animals are dispatched, and the melee leads to the accidental discovery of another tunnel--this one containing a train or shuttle. Morgan theorizes that it once connected all the Atlantean city-states and wants to investigate, but Tara is afraid. Morgan steps inside the train and the door shuts behind him. Neither he or Tara can open it.

The train pulls away, and Morgan is knocked unconscious. When he awakens, the shuttle has reached his destination. He stumbles out...into moonlight. Travis Morgan has returned to the outer earth!
Things to Notice:

• Machiste makes a sly hint as to his fame in Kiro.  This will be dealt with in future issues.
• The Atlantean computer has apparently been recording history since the fall of the civilization that built it, and making a nice documentary on it--for whom?
• Like a lot of pulp heroes, Morgan is easily knocked out, but never has any lasting neurologic damage.

Where It Comes From:

In a way, this issue marks the end to the first "book" of Travis Morgan's saga. Warlord, at least at first, is an adventure narrative following very much in the footsteps of the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs. The usual plot outline, as established in A Princess of Mars, has a hero from our world meeting a princess from the fantastic world where he now finds himself, losing her, then regaining her after overcoming the villain(s). Just as their about to settle down as a happy couple, circumstances contrive to take the hero back to our world, separating him from his love. Burroughs uses this outline again in the first Pellucidar novel, At the Earth's Core. It's repeated in heavily Burroughs-inspired works like Warriors of Mars and Tarnsman of Gor, too.

The next "book" on the Burroughs map will have the hero returning, probably meeting new companions, and questing to find his lost love again. Which is exactly what happens in Warlord.

Returning to the details of this issue, the design of the Atlantean computer center seems to be inspired by some classic film and TV science fiction. Some of the details in the first panel echo the set design of Star Trek: The Original Series and Forbidden Planet. The computer core on page 8 seems an homage to this scene from Forbidden Planet:

The fall of Atlantean society and the degeneration of some of its descendants in non-human forms, echo themes found in pulp fiction, but also common to the post-apocalyptic genre in films (the Planet of the Apes films, Teenage Cave Man), and comics (Mighty Samson).

The dog-like animals that attack Tara and Morgan are referred to as hyaenadons. Grell is correct in dating them, as animals in the hyenadon family were extant from the late eocene. However, he suggests that they were the ancestors of wolves, which is incorrect. Hyaenadons belong to an extinct order of mammals known as creodonts.

Scum and Villainy

"She had to remind herself that he was not much more evil than most evil men."

- Fritz Leiber, "The Cloud of Hate"

Here's a hand full of villains involved in criminal enterprise from the streets of Terminus, last outpost of the fallen Thystaran empire, in the south of the continent of Arn:

Pnathfrem Lloigor: Vintner and boss of dives on the east of the city, between the River Fflish and Lion Street. He’s immensely fat, and balding, but also a dandy, given to dressing in ostentatious silks and gaudy jewelry. His high-pitched voice leads to rumor that he is a eunuch, but it’s an affectation. He enjoys putting off visitors of both sexes with leering glances, and suggestive quotes from his extensive collection of Zycanthine erotic literature.  Physically weak but shrewd, Lloigor might have long ago been displaced, except that he has a cousin in the Thaumaturgists Guild who has been known to come to his aid.

Sodmos Jasp: Bald, jaundiced, and skeletally-thin but for a pot-belly, he suffers from a metabolic malady no doubt caused by alchemical experimentation. He owns fourteen brothels and six pleasure dens on the west side, south of the river and north of Courtesan Street. His hated enemy to the east is Pnathfrem Lloigor. He made his start as a back-alley alchemist, and still carries on a side business selling cheap poisons, noxious contraceptives, and dubious aphrodisiacs. He is protected from enemies real and imagined by his dear, deadly, Saatha.

Saatha: An Amazonian woman in a silken veil and little else. The greenish tint to her skin and the vertical slits of her pupils in her jade eyes suggest otherwise. She wields twin, ornate scimitars which look like they're made of bronze, but are not. Their swift and deadly in her hands. It has been said that she is from a distance world--the Place of the Blood Red Sun, and that she has been bound to the service of Jasp. That's what rumors say. Saatha never speaks.

Tyrus Vaanth: Prominent slaver, and sophisticate. He's well-dressed, cruelly handsome--and just cruel. But never should it be said that he's impolite--unless one's at the end of his rapier. He's called "Whitehands" after the pristine white gloves he habitually wears. He fears contagion and sickness of all kinds. In times of stress he holds a perfumed cloth over his mouth to ward off miasmas. He seldom goes anywhere without his personal physicker, Doctor Panggiss.

Elrood Panggiss: Serves Tyrus Vaanth as both physicker and torturer. He's accent is foreign, but vague. He's rumored to be exiled from the court of some foreign potentate for unspecified crimes. His usually rigid and controlled demeanor hides a heart of sadist. He's addicted to analeptic zauphur which he carries in a silver snuff-box. His use of the stimulant feeds his growing paranoia, and fuels his cold depravity.  He's as proficient with a dagger (always envemoned with an exotic and efficient poison) as he is with scalpel, but considers it beneath him to use it except in direst need.

Handsome Sclaug: Half-ogre enforcer whose scarred visage is the opposite of his nickname.  He made a name for himself as a pit-fighter, but gave that up for for a more lucrative career working for various crime bosses.  He disdains weapons, preferring to use his ham-sized fists, augmented by (perhaps ensorcelled) cesti.  He does talk much, but is said to a pleasant singing voice.