Warlord Wednesday: Birds of Prey

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...

"Birds of Prey"

Warlord (vol. 1) #33 (May 1980)

Written and Pencilled by Mike Grell; Inked by Vince Colletta

Synopsis: Morgan and Shakira are flying along on the disc they stole from the titans. Morgan broaches a subject with Shakira that’s been bothering him: is she a woman who turns into a cat, or a cat turns into woman? And how does she do it, anyway? Shakira refuses to answer the first question, only replying “I have to have some secrets.” She suggests that maybe her ability is “magic.”

Morgan has little faith in magic. He shows Shakira the burned-out remnant of the Hellfire Stone. Magic can’t bring back his son, and it can’t make him forget he caused his son's death. He keeps the stone as a reminder of magic’s limits.

The conversation is interrupted by the attack of winged, bald men Shakira identifies as “hawkmen.” Morgan and Shakira hold their own against the attackers until the hawkmen lasso Shakira and bear her off into the sky. Watching her abduction, Morgan lets his guard down for an instant and is hit from behind, knocking him from the disc.

Morgan’s quick reflexes allow him to save himself by grabbing the control cable, but supporting his wait shorts the controls. Morgan finds himself dangling in midair, being dragged behind a runaway flier. He travels that way for short distance, until the flier gives out, and plunges to the ground.

Morgan lies unconscious in the forest, where he's found by a group of dwarves. They debate what to do with him, worried he might be allied to the hawkmen.  Eventually they decide to take him to their village and let their mayor decide what to do.

In their quaint, tree village, they bring Morgan before the mayor. Before he can pass judgement, Morgan awakens, which causes all the dwarves to run away in fear. Morgan coaxes them out of hiding by convincing them he’s not with the hawkmen--in fact, he’s their enemy. The dwarves are pleased by this, as the hawkmen raid their village and steal their women. The mayor pronounces Morgan a friend and offers him a drink:

The strong dwarvish liquor brings tears to Morgan’s eyes and almost makes him fall over. The mayor opines that “it takes some getting used to.”

The mayor tells Morgan the hawkmen are away on a raid to the South. That gives Morgan the idea to prepare a surprise for them on their return. The mayor says Morgan will have to do it alone--the dwarves are too small to stand up to them. Besides, they’ve got know way to reach the hawkmen’s aerie. He shows it to Morgan, high atop a giant tree. There’s no way to climb up!

Morgan asks if they’ve ever tried, though he knows the answer.  He tells the mayor all he needs from the village is 100 feet of rope and goat-skin full of their dwarvish firewater.

Morgan begins climbing the tree. He’s surprised to find guards swooping down at him. After a precarious battle with Morgan swinging around the giant tree trunk on his rope, the hawkmen are defeated. He resumes his climb with more urgency. He has to reach the top before the rest of the hawkmen return.

Upon reaching the aerie, Morgan makes a grisly discovery. Scattered about are human (or dwarven) bones. No sooner has he found the fate of the hawkmen’s captives, than he sees them returning with Shakira. Morgan quickly spreads the liquor around their nest, then hides.

As soon as the raiders carrying Shakira are within the nest, Morgan attacks. He cuts Shakira free, then throws down a torch, igniting the liquor. Morgan grabs Shakira’s hand and says their only way out is to jump into the lake below.

Shakira balks with a feline dislike of water. She turns into a cat to run away, but Morgan snatches her up. He jumps from the tower with her cursing him.

Morgan and Shakira climb from the lake and look up at the aerie, now engulfed in flame. The mayor thanks Morgan for his help, and asks if he got his cat back. Morgan replies, “Yes..."

Things to Notice:

• Where are the hawkwomen?
• Shakira talks while in cat form.
• Dwarven females are taller and less comical looking than the dwarf males.

Where It Comes From:
The hawkmen are likely inspired (and named) for the hawkmen of Alex Raymond's Flash Gordon comic strip, and related media.

The dwarves Morgan encounters seem to have a Munchikin-esque character, mode of dress, and appearance, though they live in tree homes more like the Keebler elves.  It's possible that The Wizard of Oz was the whole impetus for the story, with the dwarves inspired by the Munchikins and the hawkmen standing in for the evil flying monkeys.

The Tintype of Dark Wonder

The Tintype of Dark Wonder is a magical artifact, often discovered at a carnival photography booth or in the possession of a street photographer. The photographer will not have taken the picture himself, nor will he know how it has come to be among his wares. It’s usually sold cheaply.

The small cult who follows the picture's movements, and chronicles them in iterations of the mimeographed or photostatted tract known as The Menagerie Grotesque, holds that it has its origins in drowned Meropis. No serious scholars view the cult as anything more than a collection of crackpots, so this, like all their other claims, are doubted. What is not in doubt, however, is that the item gives the possessor control over three magical entities, but at a price.

The possessor may summon the three, frankly ludicrous, animal caricatures pictured by simply holding the tintype, looking at the desired creature, and willing said creature to act in accordance with his will. When a creature is summoned it disappears from the picture, returning only when its task is complete. The creatures will act in the following manner:

The gluttonous frog: When called the frog will follow any individual the possessor wills. It will be invisible to all with magically aided vision but the possessor. The victim will find themselves with a growing appetite for food, sex, and other pleasures. Over time, these appetites will grow increasingly bizarre. The victim will gain weight, whether eating excessively or not. Over a period of 2-12 months they will become immensely fat and virtually immobile, and entirely depraved. A saving throw will allow the victim to intuit that they are under a curse. Remove curse will chase the frog away.

The lanky hound: When called, the hound begins harrying a victim. It will only be visible to the victim, the photo’s possessor, and those with magical sight. The hound will always stay far enough away from the victim so that it is a vague shape in the distance, or perhaps a distorted figure in the fog, glimpsed by peripheral vision. The hound's presence will cause the victim increasing feelings of dread and paranoia. Within a week, they will be suffering the effects of poor sleep. Within two, they will be unable to perform in any critical situations and be essentially homebound by fear--only being able to leave with a successful Wisdom check. The victim seeking out the hound and chasing it, will drive it away for a time, but it will return in 1d4 days. Only remove curse or the like will drive it away permanently. After 1d4 months, only a saving throw will keep the victim from attempting to end their own life.

The twisted eel: The twisted eel causes the degeneration of the body of the victim, by progressive nerve death, and crippling arthritis. The victim will feel the eel's cold-blooded presence but only the possessor and the magically sighted see it. After a 1-6 days of the eel’s influence, pain will cause a -1 to all roles involving physical aptitude. After 2d4 weeks, dexterity and strength will begin to be reduced at a rate of 1 point a week. Healing magic will stave off loss for that week, but not halt the degeneration. When strength and dexterity are reduced to zero, constitution begins to decline at a rate of one point a day. Once again, remove curse or the like will drive away the eel.  If the eel is driven off before a score reaches zero, it will fully heal with time.

Death of the one who summoned the creature will also end its attack. If a remove curse drives the creature from its intended target, it will attempt to attack the possessor instead, unless a successful saving throw is made. Each possessor may only summon each creature once, after that the picture seems to be just a picture....except for the untoward attention it brings to the possessor from extraplanar entities, and sorcerous collectors eager to add the tintype to their collections.

Crossover

Crossovers are a time-honored tradition in media, going back to the ancient Greeks (remember the Argonauts?) at least. The intertwining of genre literature characters hit its high mark with the so-called Wold-Newton Universe. What Philip Jose Farmer created to give a give illustrious pedigrees to Tarzan and Doc Savage, others have turned into a grand unified theory of crossovers.

The appeal's obvious to any genre fan. If the Shadow meeting Doc Savage is good, throwing in the Cthulhu Mythos and Shaft might just make it better--particularly if a way to really explain all these characters existence in the same universe could be found.

“Anything (or almost anything) goes” crossovers can have a lot gaming appeal. Superman can join the Avengers in a supers game. Philip Marlowe or Sam Spade might cross paths with investigators in Call of Cthulhu. Or maybe its apes versus machine, as Escape from the Planet of the Apes meets the Terminator.

Crossovers can also be used on a smaller scale to create setting continuity. PCs from one game might show up as NPCs in another, or events from a previous game might be referenced. This can even work cross-game and cross-genre. The Hyborian Age of Conan was long part of the prehistorical past of the Marvel Universe, so there’s no reason one’s D&D game could be somehow related to the history of one’s superhero game, or even one’s modern occult game.

All this just scraps the surface. Anybody have any crossover examples from their own games?

Season of the Witch

The last day in the month of Redfall is known as Revenant Night. This is an old, pagan festival, never successfully extinguished by the coming of the Oecumenical Church. Folklore holds that the walls between the realms of the dead and the prime material plane thin, so that spirits who have not yet moved on to their plane of final reward can slip back into the living world. This seldom seems to occur in this modern age, but magical practitioners don’t rule it out entirely.

The time around Revenant Night is observed in interesting ways in different parts of the New World. In the City and other parts of the Union, many adults may go masked, and there is something of a superstition against using one’s real name lest it be overheard by malign spirits--though this is more observed in playful fashion today than a fearful one. Children dress in more elaborate costumes and in engage in ritual begging door-to-door.

Out in Heliotrope, witch cultists of the Black Mother are purported to have one of their most important sabbats on this night. Police often raid reported ritual sites, but usually only collar intoxicated young playboys, and naked, would-be starlet, cigarette or hat-check girls. The real power rituals and serious practitioners remain elusive--or either are smart enough to pay off the cops.

In some towns in the Steel League the evening before Revenant Night is called “Eve of Madness,” or the “Night of Misrule.” Some scholars believe this festive night of tomfoolery and petty vandalism has its historic origins in the mind-altering (and perhaps delirium inducing) effects of certain fungi which bloom on grain at this time of year in Ealderde. Others believe it is a psychic release, necessary due to the astrological influence of the Blood Red Moon--a full moon of large size and rust color which occurs around this time.

The Eve of Madness can turn ugly. Murders, sometimes gruesome and senseless ones, occur more often on this night, as does arson, and sometimes there's strange mob violence where the perpetrators seem to be in some sort of trance. This is most common in Motorton, the bustling manufacturing city built atop the mass plague-graves of Old Fort Narrows. Here the Red Dwarf holds sway. This mysterious harbinger of calamity once appeared as a redcap, but now is seen more often as a dwarf dressed dapperly in a crimson suit. It's said that the Dwarf has claimed the night as his own, and has been known to have his henchman bring random people off the street to his Room with Red Velvet Curtains (sometimes just the “Red Room”). Visitors describe the room as found in the basement of a ritzy old hotel--but no one has been able to relocated the building or provide directions to it later.

The Dwarf will sometimes tell his visitor’s future. Other times, he’ll ask them for a favor, or tell them how they can get their heart’s desire. However it starts, it always plays out badly. A meeting with the dwarf is an ill-omen however sharply its dressed.

Gill-Man vs. Wolf-Man

To finish off my Halloween review of all the non-vampiric Universal monsters, we come to the gill-man and the werewolf. Both are zoanthropes, and perhaps as such, both represent fears of nature or man’s own animalistic side, though at that point the similarity seems to end.

The gill-man is elusive. His appearances in media are more rarified, no doubt due to his proprietary, rather than folklorish, origins. In addition to the Creature trilogy, stand-ins make appearances in The Monster Squad, and Monsters vs. Aliens--where interestingly he’s grouped with decade-appropriate monster stand-in colleagues rather than the Universal monster old guard.

The proto-gill-men of Lovecraft’s "Shadow Over Innsmouth" have miscegenation fears in their DNA, which seem absent from Universal’s creature--unless his attraction to human females is a hint at this. In some ways, the Lovecraftian angst underlying the Deep Ones makes them more interesting than a fish King Kong. That’s part of the reason D&D’s Kuo-toa (more Deep One-ish in character) have always been more interesting to me than the other evil fishmen, the Sahuagin (Gill-Men).

I guess Dr. Who's Sea Devils and Silurians might be mined for gill-man inspiration. Anything might help. Gill-man’s got a good look, but little else to give him real monster memorability.

Neil Gaiman has a short-story called “Only the End of the World Again” where Larry Talbot, the Wolf Man, winds up in Innsmouth and tangles with Deep One cultists. This may be as close as media has given us to a Gill-man-Werewolf bout.

Werewolves seem to have what it takes for urban fantasy fiction. Werewolf sex probably seems even naughtier, I suppose, than lovin’ the living dead. In fact--Teen Wolf aside--there’s always been something a little “adult situations”--maybe even exploitation--about werewolves. They don’t just strangle like the mummy or Frankenstein, or give a killer kiss like a vampire--they rend and tear and chew. Werewolves are as much serial killer as wild beast.

Is it any wonder that werewolves are almost as likely as vampires to get the grindhouse treatment? I would suspect only “almost” because vampires maybe give more excuse for nudity, and blood effects are cheaper than wolf prosthetics. But the wolf man gets by, and whatever budget.  Paul Naschy’s got a whole series of werewolf movies where the werewolf's origin involves being bit by a Yeti, and he fights Templars--how’s that for game inspiration! Then we’ve got a werewolf biker film (Werewolves on Wheels), a werewolf women in prison effort (Werewolf in a Women’s Prison); and, if Rob Zombie had his way, a werewolf Nazi-ploitation film--Werewolf Women of the S.S.

Werewolves: the most gameable of monsters, whatever your genre.

Out of the Void

Salvaged photographs all show the same thing. Beings in strange suits, with face-plates empty but for the absolute black of the void. There’s an alien presence stalking the west of the New World...

In the summer of 5880, news of an approaching rogue planetoid swept the globe. The greatest scientists and thaumaturgists worried over charts and formulae, and made dire predictions. From the streets of the City, to the savannas of Ebon-Land, and across the half-ruined cities of Ealderde, people watched the skies, and faced the fearful prospect that the end of the world was near.

The world obviously didn’t end that summer, perhaps thanks to the actions of a renegade scientist and two less than willing companions. The scientist had constructed a rocket and planned to guide it into the planetoid, altering its course. This plan was doomed to failure, according to accepted theory. Thaumaturgists had long been aware that the alien, and hard to placate, elementals of vacuum and radiation were perturbed and driven to madness by the movement of large bodies like the planetoid. Also, astral projection had detected malign energies emanating from the planetoid.  Was this the psychic death-cry of world propagating backwards in time, or something else?

The scientist averred he had novel approach to thaumaturgic shielding. His rocket could run the gauntlet. In retrospect, it may be that his thoughts in this regard were not entirely his own.

The three man rocket blasted off one a summer night on an apparent suicide mission. The planetoid’s course altered and the world was spared. Those who knew of the rocket assumed it had succeeded in its mission, and would never be seen again.

That was before last year, the falling star on Revenant Night (when tradition holds the dead can walk), and the reports of three beings in singed pressure suits, proclaiming the dawn of a new world. That was before towns were found emptied but for shadow imprints burned into walls or sidewalks where their inhabitants had been disintegrated.

Union officials have plotted the course of the harbingers (as they have come to be called). Moving from the Stoney Mountains, they’ve passed through only small towns, some barely worthy of the name. They’ve passed into the Dustlands where strangely the tornado overlords have given them wide berth. Ahead, lies the heart of the Steel League, and beyond that, who knows?

The crater left by the falling star has since been examined. It was found to contain the remains of a rocket resembling the one launched by the renegade scientist eight years ago.

My Top Ten Horrors

In no particular order, here are what probably my favorite horror short stories (though I would imagine I've forgotten something)--just in time for Halloween.  Links to e-texts provided where available.

"The Great God Pan" by Arthur Machen
"Who Goes There?" by John Campbell
"The Voice in the Night" by William Hope Hodgson
"The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
"Into Whose Hands" by Karl Edward Wagner
"The Clown Puppet" by Thomas Ligotti
"Pigeons from Hell" by Robert E. Howard
"Don't Ask Jack" by Neil Gaiman
"Whisperer in the Darkness" by H.P. Lovecraft
"Born of Man and Woman" by Richard Matheson

Honorable mentions go to "Dread" by Clive Barker, "Dr. Locrian's Asylum" by Ligotti, "The River of Night's Dreaming" by Wagner, "The Sandman" by E.T.A. Hoffman, "The Repairer of Reputations" by Robert W. Chambers, and "The Second Variety" by Philip K. Dick.  Maybe I should have done a top twenty!