Warlord Wednesday: The City in the Sky

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 City In The Sky"

Warlord (vol. 1) #8 (August-September 1977)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell

Synopsis: Morgan, Machiste, and Mariah are loungingin Kiro, admiring Machiste's new mace-head prosthetic, when their attention is called to a flock of pteranodons descending on the city.  The three do battle with the flying reptiles, unil one snatches Mariah in its talons and flies off with her.

For a moment, Morgan thinks he's lost her, but he notices a pteranodon that hasn't taken flight yet.  Morgan jumps on its back, hoping he can ride it to their roost and find Mariah.  While cursing Morgan for a fool, Machiste nonetheless follows.

Their perilous flight takes them over the jungles of Skartaris to a city floating in the sky.  Dismounting before the pteranodon reaches its perch, Morgan and Machiste discover that despite the wondrous nature of the city, its in fact decaying with age.  They set off in search for Mariah, but are themselves discovered by a squad of security robots.  The two warriors make short work of them.  Feeling a greater urgency than ever to find Mariah, they run through the city streets with weapons drawn.

Hearing voices from one buidling, they charge in to find Mariah engaged in relaxed converstation with a bald stranger.  The stranger welcomes them to the city of Skyra and offers them wine.

Morgan remains suspicious despite their host's friendly demeanor and demands answers.  The stranger gives his name as Tragg, and explains that the pteranodons are trained to hunt meat for him to supplement his synthetic food supplies.  They picked up Mariah by mistake.

Skyra was built by the Atlanteans before the Great War as a defense station.  The task of running it was beyond the capacity of the human mind, so Tragg--a cyborg--was created.  The computer interfaces in his brain allow him to control every function of the city with his thoughts--which he demonstrates by having an energy weapon blast a carnosaur in the jungles below.

After that display, Morgan is ready to leave the sky city, but Mariah (ever the archeologist) wants to see Tragg's collection.  Morgan agrees to a quick look around, and he and Machiste step forward into a dark--and strangely cold--room.  Unseen, Tragg grabs Mariah and pulls her away.

The doors shut behind Morgan and Machiste, and they find themselves in a meat-locker full of frozen humans.  The leering voice of Tragg suggests they "stay for dinner."  Morgan realizes that this is what became of the inhabitants of Skyra--the supplies stopped coming and Tragg turned to humans as a source of food. 

Jets of cold liquid began coating the pair, feezing them to human ice-sculptures.  With great effort, Machiste manages to use his mace hand to break free Morgan's right hand--and his gun.  Morgan shoots the freezing device.  That gives Machiste time to smash through the ice and free them.  Before hunting for Mariah, they quickly improvise gliders so they're sure they can make good their escape.

Meanwhile, Tragg offers Mariah the choice to become his bride--or die.  Before he can carry out his threat, he's interrupted by Morgan who has a gun to his head.  Tragg still controls the city, however, and activates jets of flame that trap Morgan and Machiste, and make Morgan drop his pistol.  While Tragg gloats, Mariah dives for Morgan's pistol.  Before the cyborg can react, she's put a bullet through his skull.  

The instant of Tragg's death, Skyra begins to quake.  The three run for the gliders.  They fly away as the sky city crashes into a snowy mountainside.

Things to Notice:

• This is the first appearance of Machiste's mace hand.
• Tragg's hunting pteranodons weren't able to find any easier picking that plucking Mariah from the palace of Kiro?
• Atlantean robots are built from sub-standard materials--Morgan is able to tear 'em apart barehanded.
• The Atlanteans made Tragg with scary-sharp teeth for some reason.

Where It Comes From:
The idea of a floating city is a common one in science fiction and fantasy. It goes back at least to Swift's Gulliver's Travels (1726) and the flying island of Laputa. Once such floating city Grell no doubt encounterd was Stratos in the 1969 Star Trek episode "The Cloud Minders."

Tragg's appearance recalls (albeit with a different color scheme) the Silver Age appearance of the Superman villian, Brainiac--who was also an artificial being (at least after a 1964 retcon):

Tragg's plot and freezing modus operandi are clearly inspired by Box, a robot in the 1976 film adaption of Logan's Run. Box operates a freezing facility for foodstuffs ("Fish, plankton, sea greens... protein from the sea!"), but when the food stopped coming he began freezing and storing escaping runners instead:

Interestingly, though the movie Box is a robot, in the original Nolan and Johnson novel he's a cyborg like Tragg.

The Gonne-Slinger

"The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed."

- Stephen King, The Gunslinger

A gaunt revenant stalks the wastes of the world of Arn.

No one knows what sorcerer summoned this entity from some alternate material plane, nor what sorts of strange magics animate his deathless form, nor what blasphemies are held back by his rawhide-sown lips. Perhaps he was called forth with the sepulchral sorceries of the Tomb-Lords of Amenti, or perhaps he's wandered since the days of the God Makers, themselves.

Whatever the case, the grim walker may be encountered randomly in sparsely inhabited deserts and badlands across the world. He is a tall, almost skeletally thin man.  His weathered skin has the corpse-pallor of the undead. Beneath the wide brim of his hat, his eyes glow with blue-white witch-fire. His dust-colored long-coat flaps in the breeze--even when there isn't one. 'Round his waist is a low-slung leather belt, and odd scabbards--holding even odder weapons--hang on either side, strapped to his thighs.

The sole weapons of the man are cunningly wrought gonnes in miniature. These weapons fire fast, and they never need to be reloaded. Those who don't die on the battlefield from their eldritch shot typically succumb later to a wasting sickness, unless clerical magic is used to cure the disease.

This bounty-killer from the Outer Dark may be hired by leaving a piece of paper, with the likeness of the person to be killed drawn upon it, in a ruined (and so unconsecrated) church of a lawful good deity in a ghost-town in the wilderness, or at the edge of a desert or waste. He will only accept a commission from a person once in their life. The price for the killing is variable, but always includes gold--and ages the would-be employer in the bargain.

Mechanics: The Gonne-Slinger can be tailored to fit the needs of the campaign. Warriors & Warlocks stats for my current game aren't as easy, but here's some Old School-ish guidelines: I'd suggest a rough level of say the AD&D Fiend Folio Death Knight (AC 0, HD 9, Magic Resistance: 75%) though with a number of attacks reflecting the RoF of his guns (3 shots/round, maybe?). The cost of the killing should be based on the hit dice of the target, and perhaps the aging should, as well. Despite his undeadish nature (and the resistances/immunities that might imply) the Gonne-Slinger can't be turned, commanded, or destroyed, and is immune to the effects of holy/unholy symbols, holy water or the like.

The Peoples of Arn: The Kael

The Kael hold sway over the wilds in the northern reaches of Arn. These ethnically Ilsdaanan (mostly fair-skinned and -haired) tribesmen once held all of Arn, only allowing the Hazandi gypsy-folk--with whom they have an ancient blood-pact--to pass unchallenged. The coming of the forces of the Thystaran Empire changed all that, leading to years of warfare. Whole tribes of Kael were lost, and their names are no longer spoken. Gradually, the tribes were pushed further and further into the less hospitable hills and broken lands of the north.

While they still claim all of Arn as their ancestral right, the Kael only control the areas of the Ael-Uthaidd Plateau, Shielddome, the Delanoch Hills, and the Chailéadhain Highlands. The loss of the south is an ever bitter draught, and the young and disaffected tribesmen still launch raids against those they consider interlopers.

There are seven tribes of the Kael. These tribes are divided into bands, which are in turn divided into local groups composed primarily of families in of one matrilineal clan. Marriage within clan is not permitted.

Kael are predominantly pastoralists, though some live a completely nomadic lifestyle following auroch herds. Though war and raiding is generally considered the province of men, both boys and girls are trained to ride, and in the use of the bow and spear. A Battle Woman (seen as being imbued with the spirit of the war goddess) accompanies war-parties and gives counsel to the male leader on the treatment of prisoners and the division of spoils.

Inspired by the random tables originating in Aaron Kesher's "The Devil's in the Details" in Fight On!, here are a couple of tables to flesh out cultural/personality quirks of Kael characters:

MANY KAEL (1d20 3 times):
1. Dislike cities.
2. Prefer to sleep in stables near their horse.
3. Take trophies (scalps, ears) from defeated foes.
4. Treat elves with deference--and wariness.
5. Sing tribal war-chants before battle.
6. Have tattoos in geometric patterns.
7. Have tattoos of stylized animals.
8. Think battle-scars make them more attractive.
9. Name their favorite weapon.
10. Try to interpret their dreams to divine the future.
11. Have a mohawk haircut.
12. Spike their hair to look fierce.
13. Are afraid of ghosts.
14. Have an idiosyncratic taboo placed on them at birth.
15. Are illiterate.
16. Talk to the stars as if they're family elders.
17. Are mistrustful of magic-users and call them witches
18. Believe having a dwarf in a party is a auspicious omen.
19. Believe weapons have spirits.
20. Take new names to reflect noteworthy deeds.

SOME KAEL (1d10 once):
1. Are hiding from an arranged marriage.
2. Call all non-Kael or Hazandi humans "Thystari."
3. Smoke djesha-leaf immoderately
4. Have a feud with another Kael clan.
5. Have a totem animal they won't kill.
6. Attach feathers to their spears.
7. Think halflings are funny--even the anthrophagous kind!
8. Find non-Kael exotically attractive.
9. Speak the common tongue without an accent.
10. Are fascinated by civilization.

A Plague of Goblins

"Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours."

- Planet of the Apes (1968)

Goblin plagues are suffered in the less settled areas of the world, particularly in the lands of Arn, though they have been known in the wilder parts of the Eridan continent, as well. They are more common in places which lie near ancient ruins. In such an infestation, tens, perhaps hundreds, of goblins swarm forth from underground dens or nests. They overrun manor, hamlet, and village, and have even been known to assail the gates of small cities.

No one knows what spawns goblins, but it is certain they don't reproduce in the manner of most humanoids. All goblins seem to be of the same sex, though in truth, this is something of a conjecture. Smaller goblins, perhaps immature ones, are seen among their swarms, but never is any parental nurturing or concern offered them by any of their fellows.

It's difficult to guess the intelligence of goblins. There's no questioning their cunning, but they don't structures or make tools, behaving only as brute beasts. This may be more preference than lack of capacity, as there are reports of them taking up knives and even smallswords and brandishing them in deadly mockery of men. Though they may wear rags or stolen bits of clothing or armor as rude decoration, they are just as happy to go naked.

When swarms of goblins pour forth from the underground, they tend to move toward human habitations, though wild animals will sometimes suffer their assaults. While popular entertainments have made much of the mischievous nature of goblin attacks--their crude pranks, surprise scares, and harassment of livestock--their deadliness is not be discounted. Typically, the actions of the swarm escalate from behaviors which create fear or annoyance to outright attacks with their sharp teeth, stolen weapons, fire, and large numbers. They have been known to consume humans they kill, but that seems to be an after-though.

The infestations may last as little as a night or two or as long as a month, depending on the amount of resistance they encounter. If the swarm doesn't end of its on accord, it can be dispersed by killing a quarter or more of its number.

Scholars have attempted to discern how goblin plagues may be predicted. Folklore suggests that they are "summoned"--perhaps by children entering puberty. Adolescents suffering from the anxiety of an unwanted betrothal, the birth of a new sibling, or other sorts of emotional duress are thought to become unwitting "Goblin Kings" or "Goblin Queens," and call forth their subjects in some psychic manner.  Naturalists remained unconvinced but are at a loss to explain the tales of goblins paying rude homage (in imitation of human courtly deference) to a single child in a decimated village or attempting to abduct such a child without harming them in any other way.

Release the Kraken!

I saw the Clash of the Titans remake this morning with some friends.  Contrary to the lackluster pronouncements of several critics, we three fans of the original film enjoyed it.

The plot follows a broadly similar outline to the '81 original, though a theme of Man versus God is emphasized (and perhaps over-emphasized.  We got it already!), and a true villain is added--instead of just antagonists--which is what I think the original had.

Comparing the 1981 and 2010 films is interesting.  The remake suffers from what I see as a common flaw of modern genre/action film screenwriting compared to the style of older films.  Events are streamlined, probably in the name of making the film more "fast-paced," leading to the feeling of jumping from one action set piece to another, and inevitably losing some filler details, and atmosphere-building.  Serving this same goal of narrative straight-forwardness, characters are eliminated and "good guy" and "bad guy" tend to get more sharply drawn.  And this is all in comparsion to an original which was a pretty shallow fantasy film!

This rapid pace tends to necessitate broadly painted characters, and character "bits" are almost inevitably scenes of comic relief and badass-itude.  These can be well-down and enjoyable, but also feel cliched.  Of course, secondary characters in the original (besides Burgess Meredith's character) can hardly be said to be developed at all, so I suppose you could view this as an improvement.

CGI is certainly superior to stop-motion in terms of versatility and versumilitude, but the "ritual dance" nature of a lot of modern action sequence direction, means that doesn't equate to greater thrill value most of the time.  The giant scorpion sequence in the new film is certainly more frenetic, but I can't neccessarily say that its better. 

The ferry across the Styx, likewise, isn't really any better or worse, though for different reasons.  The Stygian witches, I think, actually work better in the original, though I can't put my finger on exactly why--and admittedly, I'm working form memory.

So did the new one do anything better?  Sure.  The Olympians with speaking roles seem more "into it" than the slumming stars of the original.  The "floor map" of the world in Olympus is a lot cooler than the "amphitheater"the god's crowd around in the original.  Princess Andromeda is better developed, if in cliched ways.  The sets for Argos are sumptuous. 

The thing the new film does best in my opinion is the medusa.  She's fast moving, and so more menacing, but she also has a great deal of expression in her facial animation.  You actually get a sense of the medusa as a charatcer, more than just an obstacle.

Anyway, its worth checking out, in my opinion--though the 3D doesn't add anything, so save yourself a few bucks.

Return of the Comic Book Swordswomen!

This continues my examination of sword-wielding female leads in fantasy comics. The first installment can be found here.

As the seventies waned, so did comic book fantasy, and some of the swordswomen were victims of that dolorous stroke. Starfire didn't make it. Ghita would only later be found in collections. Red Sonja continued in a stuttering fashion in the eighties with three ongoings (one only lasting two issues) and a movie tie-in.

The old guard retired to comics' Valhalla, and others arose to take up the charge. The new swordswomen were somewhat less cheesecake-centric than their seventies fore-bearers, and often existed more detailed, better realized worlds.

The first of these, as mentioned last time, had a link to Red Sonja. In Epic Illustrated #10 (February 1982), Marada She-Wolf, written by Chris Claremont and illustrated by John Bolton, debuted. Marada fought fantastic menaces in the early Imperial Roman era with the aid of her companion, the sorceress Arianrhod. As initially written, Claremont's and Bolton's story had featured Red Sonja, but copyright complications triggered by the impending movie made that impossible. The story was retooled and Marada was born.

Marada She-Wolf fought evil sorcerers across the Roman world through a total of five issues of Epic Illustrated. The initial three-part arc was collected, colored and slightly modified for Marvel Graphic Novel #21: Marada She-Wolf (1985). A third story for Epic Illustrated was reportedly planned, but never saw print.

In 1984, Marvel's Epic imprint upped the ante with a whole island of swordswomen. Sisterhood of Steel was the creation of Christy Marx, and was drawn by Mike Vosburg. The series tells the story of Boronwe, a young woman coming of age as a member of a society of amazonian mercenaries. Sisterhood of Steel looked different from its predecessors--no chainmail bikinis here (though there is an awful lot of eighties' big hair). It also had more of a literary fantasy approach. The society of the amazons and how it interacts with the larger world are important part of the story. Then there was your standard epic fantasy who's who and pronunciation guide published in first issue, and essays about the Sisterhood's culture in later issues.

There was to be more of the Sisterhood of Steel after the initial limited series, but disagreements between Marx and her editors over content put an end to that. A graphic novel was published in 1987, in association with Eclipse, with art by Marx's husband, Peter Ledger.

There's a lull at the end of the eighties in our parade of sword-wielding heroines. Red Sonja appears again from Cross Plains in 1999, and then returns in an ongoing (and still going) series from Dynamite in 2003. But these are throwbacks--returns to seventies form with a modern veneer. In 1999, though, we got a swordswoman who would pick up where Sisterhood of Steel left off with more literary fantasy style storytelling and complexity--and the greater amount of clothing (mostly).

Mark Smylie's Artesia is an ambitious (and currently incomplete) epic fantasy series of six-issue limited serieses and annuals. It tells the story of the titular Artesia, a former concubine turned war captain, who is betrayed by her former lover. This starts a chain of events that makes Artesia the leader of large armies, and a player in epic conflicts on the world stage. Artesia is sort of like Queen Medb clad in Joan of Arc's plate armor. Her world, the Known World, is like the ancient world in fifteenth century drag, and recalls Glorantha in the way myth and religion are given prominent roles. It's no surprise, given the amount of detail Smylie has put into the world, that its made the transition to role-playing game setting.

Artesia, as a strong female lead, has seemed to appeal to a lot of female comic book readers (or at least, female comic book critics). No doubt fantasy fans have also taken to Artesia for its epic storyline and richly detailed world.

And then, of course, there's a lot of sex. No Red Sonja-esque prudery for Artesia.

Unfortunately, Smylie is still in the middle of Artesia. Responsibilities as publisher seem to be taking up his time. The fourth limited, Artesia Besieged, has been stalled since 2009 on the third issue.

Thus ends the tale of the swordswomen of comics--at least for now. Hopefully, the future will bring us a conclusion to Artesia's saga, and then another generation, so Red Sonja in her chainmail bikini doesn't have to fight the good fight alone.

Down There: A Conceptual Tour of the Lower Planes

In my current campaign setting, I'm working within the bounds of the traditional AD&D "canon," but trying to wring somewhat novel and interesting (at least to me) interpretations from it. One of these elements is the "standard model" of D&D cosmology--what's sometimes called "The Great Wheel."

As portrayed, it's a bit literal and mechanical, which is a shame because at its core its a crazy enough mashup concept to appear in a mimeographed pamphlet left in public places. Bissociation should be the watchword here. Or maybe multissociation? I think the planes can (and should) be both other realms of consciousness and physicalities. Conceptual overlays on the material world, and places where you can kill things and take their stuff.

To that end, I decided to riff on the concepts of the planes, and see what associations they brought out. Not all of these will be literalized in the version of the planes visited by adventurers from the world of Arn, but all of these associations might inform how I presented the planes and the alignment forces they're of which they're manifestations or vessels. Maybe later I'll get into all the heady faux-metaphysical theory I devised behind all this. Or maybe I'll xerox my on crackpot tract.

Anyway, I figured the best place to start was a trip to hell.

The Abyss: The Abyss is the best place to start as it was probably the first of these planes to exist--the formless, primordial chaos, tainted only by Evil. An Evil that emerged, ironically, only after a material world appeared to be appalled at, and to yearn to destroy. Without creation, destruction would just subside into roiling chaos. AD&D cosmology gives us 666 layers to the Abyss, but I suspect the Abyss is infinite. Maybe its the demon lords that number 666--and the so-called layers are really the lords. Maybe all the other demons are merely extensions of their substance and essences--their malign thoughts and urges accreted to toxic flesh. They're like a moral cancer maybe, seeking to metastisize to other planes and remake them in their image--or maybe madness is a better analogy, if we're talking about the kind of madness that afflicts killers in slasher films. A psychokiller madness on a universal scale.

Tarterus: This plane is later called the Tarterian Depths of Carceri or just Carceri. I'm calling it the Black Iron Prison, because it fits, and because it recalls Phillip K. Dick's VALIS and The Invisibles. It's called the prison plane--which the Manual of Planes interprets a little literally. Not that it isn't all the obvious bad things about prisons, but its also got a Kafka-esque quality, maybe. Most souls don't know why their there and don't remember how they got there. And watch what you say 'cause the bulls have informants all over. You wait and wait for a promised trial that never comes. I suspect souls get "renditioned" from the material plane and brought here for angering a god or an Ascended. The gaolers (as Lovecraft would have it) are the demodand or gehreleths. Demodand is an interesting name as it probably comes from Vance's "deodand" which is a real word meaning "a personal chattel forfeited for causing the death of a human being to the king for pious uses" which may (or may not) hint at some sort of origin for the demodands/gehreleths. It's also interesting that the kinds of demodands--shaggy, tarry, and slime--are all related to things that can sort of be confining or restricting.

Hades: Later called the Gray Waste (a better name, I think), it's a plane of apathy and despair. There's some Blood War nonsense later, but apathy and despair is a theme to conjure with. It makes me think of Despair of the Endless from Sandman and her somber realm of mirrors. The Gray Waste is depression and hopelessness actualized. Not the sort of place for adventures, maybe, but a place good for some creepy monsters to come from.

Gehenna: Later called the Fourfold Furnaces, or the Bleak Eternity of Gehenna. This is the plane of the daemons, later yugoloth--which is suitably Lovecraftian. Daemons I liked in Monster Manual II because they were sort of "the new fiends" that seemed fresher than demons and devils, which were kind of old-hat by that time. As neutral evil, the daemons have nothing to motivate them but evil, really. The various alternate names of the plane make me think of Jack Kirby's Apokolips and its ever-burning fires--Gehenna has an assocation with fire anyway, going back to its origins as the Valley of Hinnom. Like the denizens of Apokolips, I think daemons should represent evil in various forms from banal to sublime. The Bleak Furnances fire the machineries of war. Being close to the realm of lawful evil, they sometimes dress up in the trapping of law, but its just fancy uniform facade. The whole place might appear as an armed camp run by tin-plated fascists. There are secret police, and propaganda bureaus, and sadistic experiments.

The Nine Hells: Later Baator, which doesn't work as well. This is the realm of the fallen--not the romantic, Miltonic rebels, but the fascist generals who tried to stage a junta and got exiled. Sure, they dress it up in decadence and "do as thou wilt" but really they're all oppressive laws and legalistic fine-print. And every one of them thinks they'd be a better leader than their boss, so they plot and scheme while playing it obsequious and dutiful. Some of the devils might say they're still fighting the good fight--that they do what they do to preserve the system from the forces of chaos. A multiverse needs laws after all, they say. That's all just part of the scam.  Still, I like China Mieville's idea of New Crobuzon having an ambassador from hell.  Maybe no city in the world of Arn has an infernal ambassador, but at least Zycanthlarion, City of Wonders, has sort of a "red phone" that can get a high-placed devil on the line.  After all, better the devil you know...