Down South

art by Glenn Orbik

“...snake-charmers, phoney real-estate operators, and syphilitic evangelists.”
-H.L. Mencken

The region between the hegemony of the City, the Smaragdine Mountains, and the eastern coast of the New World is known generally as the South. Popular conception holds a dim view of the South, and its people are painted with various unflattering stereotypes. The poor are viewed as over-religious, unwashed dullards, and its would-be gentry as grandiose eccentrics living in the past.

It is true that the South has been slower to embrace the industrialization and engagement in the wider world that mark its neighbors like the City and the Steel League, and its folk are often hidebound and insular. These traits aside, there are many things which might draw adventurers here.

There is one industry the South excels at—bootlegging. Though the South’s tradition of fire and brimstone Old-Time Religion ensures that most counties are “dry”--and even more liberal localities prohibit alcohol sales on Godday--this hasn’t stopped the manufacture and smuggling of alcohol. The lowland moonshiner typically sticks to alcohol; he’s is less likely than his Smaragdine brethren to also be involved in bootleg alchemicals in general (though it may only be a matter of time). Southron bootleggers are famous for their skill behind the wheel of their suped-up automobiles (sometimes even magically enhanced) used to outrun authorities on rural highways and back-roads. Both sides of the moon-shining equation offer opportunities for people of action.

In addition to the highways, the lesser travelled waterways of the South are conduits for bootleggers, smugglers, and criminals on the lamb. Bayous and swamps can hide a multitude of sins, if one can deal with the hostile locals (including conjure-men or hoodoo doctors), skunk-apes, gator-men, and dangerous animal life. Outsiders should be cautious before choosing to follow a local fugitive into the interior. The largest of these swamps are the closest thing the Northern continent has to the Grand Cinnamon River basin in Asciana.

There is also perhaps a little money to be made, and a lot of justice do be done, in defending Black or Native communities from terrorizing by the Knights-Templar of Purity. This can be a dangerous proposition as Black-Folk are legally disenfranchised in much of the South, and the Knights-Templar wield more power here, so near there place of origin, than in most other places. Some whole towns are under their sway, so that knowing who is an enemy and who is not can be difficult to discern.

If adventuring, or perhaps just do-gooding, wears thin one can always visit one of the cities the South does have to offer. The old and decadent canal-city of New Ylourgne, largest city in the South, offers a respite from the rural. It also boasts a higher concentration of magical practitioners than even the City, and magic shops well-stocked with exotic material components.

More Images from the City

Where you’d never expect it.  The famous Ealderdish hit-man Anton Mocata--known as “the Ghost”--was responsible for 112 (known) murders before he was finally brought to justice.  His use of a magic ring conferring the power to open dimensional doorways allowed him to strike easily at even the most well-protected targets.

Adventurer prepares to enter the belly of the beast.  The preserved carcass of a great leviathan in a melting iceberg offers a challenge.  Groups of adventures raced to be the first make the treacherous descent into the creature's gullet to see what ship-bound treasures it might have swallowed in life.

Night of the Vermilion Butterfly.  A secret society among some of the joy-girls in brothels of both the City and San Tiburon Yiantowns rose up to challenge the Yianese criminal guilds.

A danger even to itself.  An Ebon-Land basilisk, petrified by its on gaze and a clever adventurer with a mirror, was put on display Empire Park.

Frontier Adventure.  A scene from a comic book adaptation of James Ynismore Drakeland’s beloved Buckskin Tales, depicting an encounter with a "rustic giant" out of the Smaragdines.

Veterans Day

It's Veterans Day, and I'd like to commemorate some of the lesser known--but no less brave--men and women who've served their country in uniform--however tattered or non-regulation those uniforms often seem to be...

What special forces squad would be daring enough to go after Hitler?  Well, the same one that served in every U.S. conflict from World War II to Vietnam--and did it their way.  I refer of course to Sargeant Nick Fury and his Howling Mad Commandos!

They say you can't pin a medal on a gorilla (see, they're doing it right there on the cover!), but I say: why not?  So what if he doesn't meet the grooming standard?

War's ugly and so were they--but they got results.  And their name's alliterative.

And of course, who could forget the Warlord, formerly Captain Travis Morgan, USAF.  He proves the old adage, "old soldiers never die, they just become Sword & Sorcery heroes in the hollow earth."

All frivolity aside, I'll put one nonfictional veteran on the list.  U.S. Army trauma surgeon, and my best friend from med school, T (née Tara):

Happy Veterans Day!

Warlord Wednesday: The Sword of the Sorcerer

Wednesday again.  Time to 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...

"Sword of the Sorcerer"
Warlord (vol. 1) #34 (June 1980)

Written and Pencilled by Mike Grell; Inked by Vince Colletta

Synopsis: The mayor of the dwarves declares Morgan a hero for his actions last issue. As such, he feels Morgan is worthy of treasure: a gleaming sword from the Age of Wizard Kings called “Hellfire.” Morgan notices an opening in the blade near its hilt. The mayor says that legend holds there was once a gemstone there, but it was shattered, then stolen, long ago. Recognition dawning, Morgan pulls out the pieces of the hellfire gem and fits it into the blade. The sword “seems to shimmer with new life.”

In the ancient past of the Age of Wizard Kings, Machiste, Mariah, and Mungo Ironhand ignore the posted warnings and enter the castle of Wralf the Wretched. They hope he can return Machiste and Mariah to the present of Skartaris.

Wralf appears before them and is unsympathetic to their plight. He tells them he can’t help them, but when challenged on this by Mariah, he amends that to say he won’t.

At that moment, energy leaps from the hellfire sword. Spacetime is split open, and Morgan is transported to the Age of Wizard Kings and in the middle of his friends’ encounter with Wralf.

Wralf doesn’t give the reunited companions time for pleasantries. He demands Morgan surrender the sword. When Morgan declines, Wralf presses opens up two trapdoors--one which Morgan falls through, and one that swallows the other three.

The trapdoor drops Morgan onto a slide. He manages to stop himself from a precipitous drop, by wedging his sword between the walls. He climbs up a distance, then goes looking for his friends.

Meanwhile, another slide has dropped his friends on to a pathway. Mungo casts a light spell and begins to lead them out of the darkness. Unfortunately, they encounter a furred monster with scythe-like hands.

Mungo’s response is to run, but Machiste grabs his cape and pulls him back. They need the light to fight by. Machiste and Mariah battle the monster--unaware they’re actually fighting Morgan disguised by Wralf’s magic!

Morgan tries to hold his friends off while not hurting them. Mungo realizes there’s magic at work. He casts a spell himself, which dispels Wralf’s illusion.

Mariah remarks that Wralf must have changed Morgan into a monster, but Mungo corrects her. The spell was on them; the hellfire sword makes its bearer immune to magic. Mungo adds that Morgan has the same sword Wralf wears.

The three explain to Morgan that only Wralf is able to return them to Skartaris. Obviously, he’s being uncooperative.

As if on cue, Wralf appears among them. He's is tired of toying with them, and wants the sword. Morgan replies he’ll have it over his dead body. Wralf replies “that can be arranged,” and pulls his sword. He also magicks a glass dome over the other three so they can’t interfere.

Morgan and Wralf fight, their twin swords giving off magical energy as they do. Finally, Morgan delivers a mighty blow right on the gem in Wralf’s sword--and splits it, knocking it from the blade! Morgan realizes (at last) that Wralf’s blade is the one he now wields, but in the past.

That sword now seems to move of its on accord, and thrusts into Wralf’s heart. Morgan is confused. 

With Wralf dead the other three are freed.  Mungo says he should have told Morgan about that characteristic of the sword before--once the hellfire sword is drawn it must always draw blood. This is the price one pays for the immunity to enchantment the blade confers.

Morgan’s eager to show Deimos that power, but with Wralf dead, how can they return to Skartaris? Mungo clarifies: the sword grants Morgan the power to return, it’s only Mariah and Machiste that can’t. If he sheathes the blade, it will return him whence he came.

Mariah and Machiste urge him to return. They say they’ll find a way back somehow--and until then, they have each other.

Morgan sheathes the sword, and bids his friends farewell, promising he’ll see them again.

Things to Notice:

• There's a hook horror beneath Wralf's castle (sort of).
• Mungo Ironhand is implied to be the ancestor of the dwarves of Skartaris.

Where It Comes From:
The title of this issue is the same as a 1976 Sword & Sorcery novel by Gardner Fox.  The whole sword "cursed to have to draw blood" is reminiscent of the folklore around the swords of Japanese swordsmith, Muramasa Sengo.

Again, the comedic elements, and some of the design elements, of The Age of the Wizard Kings seem reminiscent of Ralph Bakshi's 1977 animated feature, Wizards.

Even More Inspirational Nonfiction

Here are the latest acquisitions for my own nonfiction shelves, which you might find inspirational or isntructional in gaming, particularly world-building:

Intoxication in Mythology by Ernest L. Abel: This might be useful as you’re brainstorming for your submission for James Maliszewski’s Petty Gods. In encyclopedic fashion, Abel briefly describes deities, substances, locales, and myths from all over the world related to intoxicants. This is sort of broadly defined, so you’ll likely find some entries (like Orion’s story) you wouldn’t have thought of as “drug-related.” It’s an interesting read, which makes me think there should be more subject-focused mythology books like this.

Lost Cities & Ancient Mysteries of the Southwest by David Hatcher Childress: This is shouldn’t be confused with a rigorously scientific archaeological work, and the travelogue nature of it means some sifting is required to find the gold, but it covers just about every weird lost civilization legend of the American Southwest I’ve ever heard of. If you enjoyed my posts on Lost Cities of the Grand Canyon, then this will probably be a welcome edition to your library.

The Tarzan Novels of Edgar Rice Burroughs by David A. Ullery: This bills itself as an illustrated reader’s guide to ERB’s Tarzan series, and that’s exactly what it is--and as such it chock full of world-building goodness from a master who knew how to balance world detail and story. Included is an overview of the Mangani (ape) language, and others from the tales, a section on lost cities, civilizations, and peoples, and a biographical sketch of Tarzan. You don’t have to be a Tarzan fan to find this stuff inspirational. In fact, if you can’t find half a dozen adventure seeds or cool things to swipe for your setting, then you haven’t read it.

Adrift Amid the Random Isles

If your players find themselves, like Captain Bill Clanton and the two Javasuan maidens above, adrift in the South Seas, you might need to know that sort of island they ultimately wash up on. For just such an occasion, I present the Random Island Generator:

Island Type (d10):
01-02: Volcanic (extinct)
03-05: Volcanic (active)
06-07: Mountain top of a drowned continent
08-09: Coral atoll
  10:  Exotic (man-made, giant turtle, floating, etc.)

Island Size (these are all small in a general sense--that’s why they’re uncharted) (d6):
01: Very small (1-10 sq. mi.)
02-03: Small (11-49 sq. mi.)
04-05: Medium (50-200 sq. mi.)
06: Large (201-1000 sq. mi.)

Inhabitants (d6):
01: None
02-03: Animals
04-05: Intelligent Creatures (then see below)
06: Special

Intelligent Creatures (d12):
01-02: Crabmen
03: Lava Children (active volcanic only)
04-05: Sahuagin
06-08: Humanoid
08-10: Human
11-12: Exotic (tiny humans, giants, animal-headed, etc.)

Civilization (d100):
01-11: cannibal
12-15: peaceful
16-25: war-like women (50% man-hating, 50% man-hungry)
26-35: feuding tribes
36-45: Gender-split, feuding
46-55: Cargo cult
56-65: Lost colony, highly developed
66-75: Lost colony, devolved
76-80: Seeming utopia
81-91: Remnant of a great civilization
92-00: Other (monster-worshipping, alien, etc.)

Unique Monster (if desired) (d6):
01-03: Giant animal
04: Froghemoth
05: Living Statue(s)
06: Earth-bound god

Tombstones in Their Eyes

Sit down in any small-town diner in the West of the New World, and like as not, you’ll hear stories of ghost towns. These are minor trail-stops that wasted away when the course of the railroad or the highway took civilization elsewhere; or mining towns that went from boom to bust when the mines dried up. Most of the time, the stories say they’re haunted. Sometimes, the stories are true.

It’s not a rare thing to encounter a ghost--most human habitations of any size have their share of them. What makes the real ghost towns of West unusual is that they’re not places of single hauntings, or even a group of restless spirits. In other places, a dilapidated tavern may be full of ghostly revellers and staff. Ill-fated hotels may have multiple patrons who never leave. But visitors to some of these towns have recounted tales of almost entire, if small, populations of ghosts.

This is a misperception, or perhaps it’s better termed a trick. There are no ghosts in these towns. The towns themselves are the ghost.

For reasons unknown to modern thaumaturgical sciences, the West was fertile ground for the development of deranged genius loci--spirits of place. Maybe these lonely places grow mad with isolation, or maybe they’re born bad--a final curse of the Native shamans driven from their ancestral lands. Whatever the case, the spirits of these towns, either in madness or as an attempt to ease their loneliness, populate their streets and structures with the semblances of people from their memory. Essentially, they put on a phantasmagorial puppet show.

Some ghost towns are homicidal in their madness and seek to lure in living humans, then kill them in fiendish ways. Others are simply lonely, and will attempt to beguile or otherwise convince humans into staying with them.  Whatever their desires, they sit quietly in the high desert, the lonely praire, or snow-bound mountainside, forlorn and waiting.

GHOST TOWN
No. Enc.: 1
HD: 12
AC: see below
Abilities: Ghost towns may be destroyed, or at least weakened to the point where they can no longer manifest significantly on the prime material plane, only by destruction of most of the structures making up the town--so traditional hit points don’t apply. Eidolons created by the town act as ghosts, but of lower hit die, as the total number of its manifestations can have no more than 12 hit dice, total. The ghost town may produce more phantasms than this, but the rest are simply illusions with no substance. None of these sub-ghosts automatically cause aging and fear, but they can display a horrifying countenance which will do so. Ghost towns may also use telekinesis as per the spell, but must wait 1d4 rounds to do so again.