You Meet in A Tavern...

Ah...but which one?

Here are a couple of answers to that question from the streets of Terminus, city on the River Fflish, in the south of Arn.

The Green Griffin Inn
The Griffin is a sometimes rough, always busy inn and tavern favored by adventurers new to town. There is a 50% chance of a fight of some sort erupting on any given evening. The lower level holds a common room with several tables, a bar, and a kitchen in the back. The upper floor holds a small number of rooms. The laconic barkeep is named Azgull, but called Az. He's a black-haired and moustached man of middle-years, often with a severe expression and wary eyes. He's also a former adventure (Fighter 4). He'll answer reasonable questions about what he's seen or heard (in as few words as possible), but when he's done, he's done, and no amount of charm will cajole more. Coin occasionally will.

There are usually 1-2 serving wenches working at all but the latest hours. They sometimes make extra money from prostitution, or by selling-out hiding lawbreakers to the City Watch. There's a 30% change that one of the barmaids on duty at any given time is Not What She Seems.

The proprietor of the Griffin is Gelsh Zem, called "Gelsh the Whiner" (behind his back). Gelsh is a smallish, balding man, with eyes that dart like spooked birds, and a bobbing Adam's apple. His anxiety is no doubt increased by the fact that the previous owner (his uncle) was slain by a drunken Kael barbarian a few months ago. Gelsh speaks in an overly officious manner, and is obsequious to the those he from whom he has something to gain, and rude to those he views as beneath him.

The Lion's Den Alehouse
Located near public baths catering to soldiers, and former soldiers, the Lion's Den tends to attract a warrior clientele, though its not exclusive. There are rarely any fights in the Lion's Den. It's the best protected tavern in the city--though this does not mean on duty watchmen are welcome.  The structure is a long hall, popularly believed to have been the mead-hall of a Kael chieftain when Terminus was only a village, called Meln. Long tables with benches run down the center of the room, with small, round tables in the more private periphery. All of the wall decorations have a martial theme. 

The proprietress of the Den is called Deela. She is handsome, well-muscled woman with mannishly short, blonde hair. She's friendly, but no nonsense, as those that cross her discover. Though she only ever speaks of her past obliquely, she is an Arnian peasant girl turned camp-follower of a mercenary company, then mercenary, and finally, mercenary captain. She respects skill and arms, but also artistic talent--a former lover, for whom she still carries a torch, was an actress and musician. The Den is run with military precision by a former sergeant (Fighter 5) of her company, Bernal Obrek, a ruddy-complected, bear of a man, with a bald head and thick moustache. Bernal is a fine cook--and deadly with an iron-banded cudgel or, should the need arise, a warhammer. If Bernal takes to a visitor, he will point them in the direction of the patrons who are likely to be the highest paying employers.

At any given time, the Lion's Den will be patronized by mercenaries looking for work, or captains looking to hire fighting-men. Protecting caravans from Kael banditry, or pacifying rebels or bandits (the two typically being one in the same) in the Dharwood. There is a 30% chance that there will be a Llysan filibuster or their agents present to recruit the gullible or desperate for conquest and glory.  They promise pay, and ultimately, land in the conquered territory to any man who will follow.

Peoples of Arn: the Hazandi

The itinerant and enigmatic Hazandi can be found throughout the known world, but their numbers are larger in Arn than anywhere save the petty kingdoms of Erida's Bandit Lands. An ancient and fiercely independent folk, Hazandi wander in caravans, travelling wherever they will. This tendency, abetted by their insular nature, no doubt forms the basis of the distrust with which they are sometimes viewed. The Hazandi hold their way of life as part an ancient agreement struck between them and the two gods (a male principle and a female principle) which they believe rule the universe. They assert that the twin deities will provide for any Hazandi--so long as he or she is wise enough to make use of their divine generosity. Usually this means living off the land's bounty, but it can also be applied to exploiting the needs or gullibility of outsiders. Their caravans visit the towns and villages of settled folk to trade items acquired in their wanderings, earn coin by entertaining, fortune-telling or hawking folk remedies—and on occasion outright theft from the unwary.

Hazandi have their own form of mysticism, which likely has its origins in the vast lands of Urda, east of the Eridan continent. They commune with their twin gods, consult ancestral spirits, and treat with lesser spirits of nature, through the use hallucinogenic substances, and ecstatic rituals. Hazandi women in particular, are held both within their culture and without, to be born with the second-sight, and ability to perceive invisible spirits. The Hazandi spiritual system is strongly aniconic, but they often scandalize other cultures with their frequent use of erotic representations, particularly of generative organs in various degrees of stylization.

Hazandi bands are often made up of a few extended families. Bands are led by a headman, but all adult members of the tribe are allowed to speak at councils. Women are usually the spiritual leaders, and magical ability is thought to pass through maternal lines. Hazandi of both sexes join secret societies whose membership reaches across bands. Each society has its role in Hazandi culture, and its own closely guarded rituals.

Hazandi typically have tanned to olive skin tones. Their hair color ranges from auburn to black and is often worn long by both men and women. Tattooing is not uncommon among the women of the Arnian Hazandi, who favor geometric patterns on their arms and hands, or sometimes cheeks. Hazandi dress is colorful compared to the other folk of Arn, and when entertaining, often revealing.

MANY HAZANDI (Roll d20, 3 times):

1. Can play a musical instrument.

2. Don't reveal their real name to outsiders.

3. Swear "by the holy tryst!"

4. Believe in the evil eye.

5. Wear rings on multiple fingers.

6. Can do card tricks.

7. Sing bawdy songs.

8. Will sale a nostrum remedium to anyone with any ailment.

9. Like to party with elves.

10. Seem to be related to every other Hazandi they meet.

11. Know someone who can sell you what you're looking for.

12. Speak Common with an accent.

13. Claim that talk of Hazandi thievery is a slander.

14. Have a "grandmother" with the second-sight.

15. Challenges others to knife throwing contests.

16. Has tattoos.

17. Has pierced ears and a pierced nose.

18. Can walk a coin across their knuckles.

19. Thinks Llysans are prudes.

20. Will remind Kael of their cultural blood-pact, if necessary.

SOME HAZANDI (d10, once)

1. Have the power to lay a curse upon dying.

2. Are on a secret mission for the society of which they're a member.

3. Are outcasts under a mark of death.

4. Have the second-sight (or think they do).

5. Are of another race, but were raised Hazandi.

6. Have a portentous birthmark.

7. Are running an elaborate confidence game.

8. Have taken a non-Hazandi name.

9. Always draw attention with their manner of dress.

10. Have a twin with whom they share a psychic connection (or so they say).

Every Picture Tells A Story

Here are some pics I gathered.  Some were snagged for posts already written, but unused.  Others have yet to find their proper place...

The streets of Terminus, in southern Arn, at nightfall...

An audience with an Onirean potentate...

Pnathfrem Lloigor, crime boss in Terminus, finds your story dubious...

Eerily, the Priest-King's concubine looks just as she must have in life, despite the millenia that have passed...

Warlord Wednesday: Lair of the Snowbeast

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

"Lair of the Snowbeast"
Warlord (vol. 1) #9 (October-November 1977)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell

Synopsis: Morgan, Machiste, and Mariah trudge through the snow in a perpetually clouded valley in the midst of a blizzard. The three are searching for shelter, but before they can find it, they cross paths with a megalictis--a giant wolverine-like carnivore. The beast slashes Morgan with its claws, but he still manages to jump on its back and put seven shots into its skull.

Machiste and Mariah crouch over the fallen Morgan, unsure if he's alive or dead. From out of the blowing snows, approachs a group of men riding mammoths. The men demand Machiste and Mariah come with them. When the two protest that their friend needs medical attention, the men's leader callously replies that he's dead--or will be very soon.

Before they can offer any further protest, Mariah and Machiste are snatched up by the mammoths' trunks. The mammoth-riders and their captives disappear into the storm, leaving Morgan were he fell.

But Morgan isn't dead. Willing himself to stand, he trudges on through the snow seeking shelter until he can't go any further. With a resigned "aw, what the hell--" he collapses again.  In his half-conscious state, he imagines a strange, butterfly-winged woman lifts him in her arms and carries him away.

When Morgan returns fully to his senses, he's lying in a warmed, inhabited cave. His wounds have been miraculously healed, though his outfit was apparently shredded beyond repair. Suddenly, Morgan turns to see a yeti-like monster entering the cave. He tosses a burning piece of wood at it, and snatches up his sword.

The creature's faster. It catches Morgan mid-sword-swing, and slams him up against the wall. As it seems poised to deliver a killing below, its expression suddenly softens, and it lets Morgan go. At the beast's show of mercy, Morgan intuits that it was who saved him. There's an intelligent mind trapped in the creature's brutish body! The beast hits the cave wall, seemingly frustrated by its condition. Morgan apologizes for judging by appearances.

He asks the beast if it knows where the mammoth riders might have taken his friends. Mutely, it shows him a city in the distance, atop a tower of rock--and connected to the rim of the valley by a bridge. Morgan salvages what clothes he can from the beast's cave and heads out into the storm. The creature seems worried about him going, but Morgan tells it not to worry--he's not going to throw away the life it saved.

Morgan climbs the rock tower, back into tropical temperatures. At the top, he finds Mariah and Machiste about to be sacrifices in a barbaric ritual. He swings Tarzan-style into the fray, cutting down enemies as he goes. He frees his companions, but soon the sheer numbers of tribesmen threaten to overwhelm them.

Suddenly, the shrieking snowbeast drops from the trees. It tears through the tribesmen, and grabs Morgan to rescue him. Mariah and Machiste misunderstand the beast's actions, and Machiste throws a spear into its back to save his friend.

The beast is dying, and Morgan lashes out verbally at Machiste for his rash act. Suddenly, the butterfly-winged woman materializes from the beast's corpse. She tells Morgan not to grieve, because now she's free. She explains that her name is Tanea, and long ago, she dabbled in the black arts to save her tribe from a plague. The price she paid was to be imprisoned in the body of the beast--until someone came along who could see beyond the bestial exterior to the beauty within. That "someone" was Morgan. Tanea gives him a passionate kiss, then flies off.

Mariah asks Morgan to explain, but Morgan says he doesn't think he can--and suggests they leave before the remaining warriors come back.

Things to Notice:

• Morgan dons his classic loincloth costume for the first time.
• Dig the very disco-era design of Tanea.

Where It Comes From:
The obvious source for this issue's story is the fairy-tale "Beauty and the Beast." The first published version of the tale ("La Belle et la Bête") was by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot, Dame de Villeneuve, and appeared in La Jeune Américaine, et les Contes Marins in 1740. Grell's version, of course, does a gender reversal on the usual tale.

Grell's Bête may have its origins in a made-for-TV horror movie airing earlier in 1977. Snowbeast, broadcast on U.S. TV on April 28, starred Bo Svenson and told the story of a white-furred, bigfoot-type creature's attack on a Colorado ski resort. Beyond the name, Warlord's snowbeast has at least a bit of resemblance to the movies:

Megalictis ferox a large predatory mustelid of the early Miocene. It resembled a wolverine but was larger--Wikipedia suggests a mass up to 60kg--though A Dictionary of Zoology (1999) by Allaby is apparently familiar with the Skartarian variety. It suggests they can be up to black bear size.

Post-Game Report: A Sea of Troubles

This past Sunday, we continued our Warriors & Warlock campaign, using a freely-adapted version of Paizo's Children of the Void in the Second Darkness adventure path. Our regular cast:

Brother Gannon - Is he thief, monk--or both?
Renin - Mind-mage out to save the world who hates and fears him. Or something.
Zarac - He loves only gold...but he really likes his sword.

Things looked bleak for our heroes and their attempt to get in on the "skymetal rush" on Devil's Elbow Island after the fall of a star--and a resultant tsunami that wrecked Raedelsport's harbor. Luckily, a merchant-speculator, Tavrem Kalus, had come to their aid with an offer of passage on the only ship available--for a forty percent cut of the profits, naturally.

The party had dinner with Captain Djosspur Kray aboard his vessel, the Flying Cloud. Mainly, this was a chance for the Captain to grill the three on what their objectives on the Devil's Elbow were, and to deliver some exposition about the island's curse! Said curse involved a siren named Ysersei, and made its dread presence felt in the form of Brother Gannon's player's inability to pronounce the siren's name, even with the other players' couching.

The dinner was interrupted by the sound and smells of burning. Rushing up to the deck, they found black-clad saboteurs setting fire to the sails. Gannon dispatched one with a quickly thrown dagger. Renin mind-blasted one from the mast. Zarac rolled too low on initiative to do aught but shout encouragement.

Despite their style of dress, the saboteurs were no ninja. More like non-ja. They beat a haste retreat over the side of the ship. Quick thinking Renin telekinetically dipped a barrel in the ocean and used it to douse the sails. Gannon and Zarac apprehended the two fallen saboteurs--who were unconscious and didn't really put up a fight.

The Captain set his crew to repairing the sails, and gave the party leave to conduct the interrogations as they saw fit. Two captives meant two interrogations. Renin proceeded with mind-reading his captive. Zarac and Gannon planned to resort to "harsh interrogation techniques," but finding the W&W rules required a full day for really good torture, they decide just to Intimidate.

The two saboteurs sang the same song: the party's old nemesis, now supposed business partner, crime boss Clegg Haddo hired them to make sure no other ships got out of the harbor. The party at first takes this as a personal attack, but later decided it was just Haddo hedging his bets against everybody. As thanks for the information, the saboteurs get thrown overboard still tied.

The repairs were completed by dawn, and the Flying Cloud crossed the eighteen miles to the Devil's Elbow. The closer they got, the more nervous Captain Kray was. He found a good reason to be--as soon as they docked, they were approached by a ragged group coming out of the forest, asking passage back to Raedelsport. These few were all that's left of the mixed human and dwarven mercenaries hired by the Lord Mayor of Raedelsport to get the skymetal. The leader of the expedition, Urumdarru Goldhammer, told a story of strange, deadly creatures lurking in the forest, who passed on a horrifying contagion to men they killed.

Kray is ready to go now, for sure, but promises to pick the party back up in three days time. The three adventurers are left on the docks with the sea to their backs, and the foreboding forest in front of them.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Two Faiths

I've alluded to the predominant religions of Arn and western Erida in a couple of places before, but I'll present them here in more detail. The two faiths are related historically and tend to be able to co-exist without much conflict, though this varies with time and place. As with any widespread religion in the real world, they are understood and practiced in a variety of different ways by adherents in different areas, but the essential elements are presented here.

The Church of Ascension
When Ahzuran achieved apotheosis and became God-Emperor of Old Thystara, he set in motion drastic changes in the traditional religion of the empire. The old gods were no longer seen as the unknowable creators of all, but instead as beings in a higher state. With a living God-Emperor, it was natural that his cult would become preeminent, and the cults of the other gods suffered as a result. It's possible that sectarian violence might have ripped the empire apart, and it certainly weakened it, but its dissolution was forestalled by the establishment of the Concordant. This allowed the continued existence of the old cults with some modification under the authority of the new church.

Authority within the church is nominally centralized, at first in the person of the God-Emperor, then later in the Hierophant, who is taken to be Noble Ahzuran's representative on Earth. The size and complexity of this task for those of less than Ascended capabilities often makes the authority essentially ceremonial, however. The major cults of the old gods (Seiptis, Æternus, Illumé, etc.) and the Ascended which arose in Ahzuran's wake (Ffalstagg, Illyra, etc.) have seats on the governing counsel who advise (and elect) the Hierophant.

The principle doctrine of the Church of Ascension is that man may achieve apotheosis by following the ancient paths rediscovered by Ahzuran. Acension is achieved by deeds which may be beyond the power of many, but piety will at least guarantee the faithful who don't ascend a place in the afterlife ruled by their patron Immortal.

Clerics of the Church of Ascension, not only pursue the paths of Ascension themselves (for the greater glory of the Church, of course) but aid other adventurers in this quest. They play a role in helping the church hierarchy determine the fitness of new godlings or entities encountered to be added to the Annals of the Ascended for the purposes of recognition and veneration.

The Issian Church
Over a century after Ahzuran moved beyond this plane, leaving his empire and church in the hands of mortals, a Thystaran man named Issus claimed to have a revelation. Issus proclaimed that, in a vision, Ahzuran and other great Immortals had shown him the truth--that Ascension was a state all men deserved. However, the arduous paths to Ascension, achievable only by a few, were not the true way this was meant to be done. Ascension only worked because the one true god, the solitary and increate Source of All, had made the multiverse in that way. Ascension wasn't godhood--just one a step closer to communion with the godhead. With faith and adherence to moral teaching, anyone could achieve that state--and more--upon death. The "gods" of the Church of Ascension, and the ancient cults, were re-conceived as saints, who were not to be worshipped, but venerated for the lessons they taught man through their life and travails, and the intercession in worldly events they might provide.

Issus is said to have been martyred (though the details of this is one of the church's mysteries) and to have ascended beyond any other. His teaching were popular and spread among the poor and disenfranchised of the Thystaran Empire. The nascent religion was unable to gain a significant foothold within the halls of power, and remains a small cult in its native land to this day.  In the more rural colonies and provinces, the Issian faith proved more popular, particularly as the Empire began to decay. After the Empire's fall, Issianism became the preeminent religion of Western Erida--particularly in Llys and Staark.

The Issian Church is much less hierarchical than the Church of Ascension. Each Issian state had its own autocephalous hierarchy, but all recognized each other. This changed with the diabolic transformation of the Llysan branch of the church. The Issian Church of Llys transplanted to Arn is even less heirarchial with individual church's essentially asserting independence, though they tend to cooperate with each other.

Clerics in the Issian Church are interested in helping the poor and downtrodden as mandated by their belief (particularly those suffering under the yolk of evil (i.e. rebellious) ascended), and in expanding the temporal power of their church, both by proselytizing to the unfaithful, and filling the church coffers with treasure.

Stuck in Medieval with You

I may ramble a bit here as the argument is still forming...

I've been thinking of late about fantasy, both as a literary and rpg genre, and whether there's room for old school-style adventuring outside the bounds of "medieval fantasy."

Obviously, I don't mean the literal, real-world European Middle Ages, but stories with a technology level somewhere between the Iron Age and the Renaissance. Sure, at least on the blogosphere, there's been an emergence of science fantasy, mixing remnant super-science with more primitive technology. Some of these baroque worlds are pretty divergent from real world analogs. There's a definite sort of Heavy Metal dream-logic feel to some, which tosses all sorts of technological assumptions out the window. Still, even in these worlds, one gets the feeling there's a fair number of swords being swung.

I don't think the issue comes down just the firearms, though maybe that's a bigger deal than I'm allowing. Is there any reason dungeon-delving couldn't be accomplished with more "modern" weapons? Would there presence drastically alter the mood?

There's the subgenre of urban fantasy, which may be underrepresented in rpgs, but does exist. Urban fantasy, though, rooted in bringing fantasy to the familiar, doesn't really capture the unknowable aspect that underpins a lot of pulp fantasy. Too much unknown in an urban fantasy setting, and its likely to veer into more of a horror mode.

Then there's fantasy in sort of Victorian-esque settings--what's often called steampunk--a term which really seems to easier to apply as a certain sort of visual aesthetic than literary genre. Some of works often placed in this category, like China Mieville's Bas-Lag stories, and the works of Stephen Hunt take place in full-fledged "secondary worlds," not the usual alternate histories. Mieville's work in particular, could no doubt serve as inspiration for a dungeoneering-based rpg (there are even D&D-style adventurers making an appearance in Perdido Street Station), but is there an rpg work in this direction yet?

Heading across the Atlantic would give us Western (meaning the genre, of course) fantasy. Stephen King's Dark Tower series is even an example of secondary world (epic) Western fantasy, to contrast with the more common alternate history fantasy of, say, Deadlands. There was a d20 supplement or two that grafted elves and dwarves into the Old West, which seems to a surefire way to suck any "unknowability" or "weird" out of the setting with the leech of predictability.

That's been precisely the problem with a lot of fantasy space opera/fantasy-space. We get Dragonstar instead of Starlin's Dreadstar. Really, no works have given us weird space fantasy, or dungeon (asteroid?)-delving space fantasy, as far as I know.

So fantasy with firearms is clearly do-able, but its tougher to find those fantasies combined with a world designed for pulp fantasy--picaresque, secondary world settings, with elements of weird, and the unknown/unknowable. I'm not convinced this can't be done, though.

It seems to me what you need is a setting that is removed enough for our time to have been mythologized a bit, much in the same way that the pre-modern world has been. You could set a dungeon-delving campaign in an alternate 1960s, but then you would get urban fantasy (of a sort) not pulp fantasy. The Old West and Victorian England, are definitely mythologized enough, but probably so are the Roaring Twenties and the Napoleonic era, and others. The future is--ironically--pretty mythologized too, but set things too near-future and you're in urban fantasyland.

While traditional fantasy will always have a preeminent place in my heart, I can't help but think that these other eras can be mined for new settings to expand the vistas of fantasy gaming. I'm not sure adventurers should be confine to a technological level that's largely a historical artifact of the fantasy genre's evolution.

I'm gonna think more about that.