The Killing Floor

The Shambles neighborhood of Empire Island is the center of the City’s slaughterhouse and meatpacking industry. It’s overwhelmingly industrial and sparsely populate--even its poor mostly immigrant workers choose to live elsewhere to escape the ever-present animal smells.

Thaumaturgists and alchemists sometimes visit the yards to purchase some animal-derived material components like bezoars. Occasionally, adventurers are consulted to hunt or kill monsters that are drawn to the offal--giant rats and osquips are probably the most common--though rarely something like an otyugh or carrion crawler will be found.

It’s long been rumored that the ghouls have an arrangement with some slaughterhouse operators allowing the the use of their facilities after hours for “dinner parties” in exchange for loot from the underground. Certainly, unscrupulous owners of knacker’s yards and livestock holding pins have--for a fee--been happy to oblige mobsters in the disposal of bodies.

From time to time, snatches of lambskin or the like are found inked with prayers or paeans honoring the Lord of the Cleaver. A full text (anthropodermically bound) honoring this obscure eikone is known to exist in a private collection in New Lludd. The origins and motivations of the Lord of Cleaver are obscure; some have suggested he’s a degenerate war god, while others believe he’s a twisted protector of animals, exacting a horrifying vengeance. Whatever his origins, his name is associated with sporadic outbreaks of homicidal madness.

Typically one individual is affected. He or she develops a maniacal urge to kill by direct and bloody means--and gains an almost superhuman ability to do so (see "Maniac" in the d20 Menance Manual SRD). Occasionally others become acolytes or accomplices of the maniac. The killing may go on for years--perhaps with periods of months without activity--but only truly ends when the affected individual is killed. After one maniac is destroyed, it’s usually years before the Lord of the Cleaver’s influence is felt again...

But one never knows.

Lifestyles of the Adventurous and Famous

Let’s again open the doors of Munsen’s “Life of Fantastic Danger” Museum, where many of the City’s adventurers--both world-renown and relatively obscure--are celebrated:

Blaise (“Blaze”) Dalton
Once just a cowpoke riding the range up through Freedonia and the West, Dalton’s life changed when following lost calf near one of the side channels of the Grand Chasm led him into a lost valley. Saving a princess condemned to death at the hands of a giant prehistoric tiger won him the princess’ adoration and--after he broke the beast like it was a bronc--the tiger as a mount. Dalton abandoned the princess in the night a few weeks later, but kept the cat. He once famously rode it through the streets of the City one Yule night chasing the Grumpf who had abducted a chorus girl. Dalton was brought up n charges for the stunt, but was ultimately pardoned. His lasso is a rope of entanglement that supposedly comes when he whistles.

Belle “Bang-Bang” Starr
A runaway from a small East Freedonia town, “Belle Starr” first took that name when working as the target girl for a sharpshooter in a carnival sideshow. Though she soon graduated to “cooch” dancing (which was more lucrative), she also picked up the sharpshooter's art. Her talents noticed by an agent, she moved to the City and worked as a burlesque and striptease dancer--while adventuring on the side. She took part in the raid on the Growing Tower, braved the obsessive, junk maze of the Brothers Coyle, and spent a perilous (and raucous) night in the Hotel Elephantine as a "guest" of the lich Hieronymus Gaunt. Starr is a proponent of “less is more” when it comes to adventuring attire, and where possible goes into battle in one of her stage costumes, swearing by the distraction it provides (at least when dealing with foes human and male). Of course, she isn’t above improving the odds with Pasties of Protection, either.

Mingus Rooke
Though only a country boy just arrived in New Ylourgne, Rooke nevertheless impressed jazz band leader and sorcerer Salomo King. Learning both the music business and thaumaturgical working through music from King, Rooke put his skills to use with various adventuring gangs once he struck out on his own. Arriving in the City, Rooke began making a name for himself in the jazz night-spots and earned the enmity of Mr. Scratch, after turning down an exclusive contract--an enmity that would plague his adventuring career. Rooke retired from “the adventuring life” relatively young, after suffering a minor stroke.  This he suffered while blowing Gabriel’s trumpet to summon an angelic host to save Hardluck from processing by the alien Machineries of Night. Rooke still plays on occasion--if not quite as well as he used to--and operates a trendy Solace night-club, The Blue Hound.

Akakor: Dungeon, (South) American Style

Following up on the weird South American jungle map I presented earlier, today we'll veer off the map entirely into the wilds of crazy von Däniken land and visit a “lost” city--one that got famous enough to appear under a weak pseudonym in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I refer of course to Akakor.

Von Däniken started talking about underground city complexes beneath Ecuador in 1974’s The Gold of the Gods, but one of his sources, German journalist Karl Brugger, got to tell his version in 1977 with The Chronicle of Akakor. Both accounts start with the same basic story: In 1972, Brugger met a Amazonian Indian (who spoke excellent German) named Tatunca Nara, who claimed to be a member of a hidden tribe that kept a great secret.  This secret involved ancient astronauts from a solar system named Schwerta, and a network of underground cities these space travellers built beneath South America. The most important of these cities was known as Akakor.

It all sounds fairly unbelievable, true--and it becomes even more so with the revelation that ol’ Tatunca Nara was really Günther Hauck, an alimony-dodging German ex-patriot. But the important thing from a gaming perspective is that these guys gave maps.

One of these is the upper (above ground) Akakor, and the other is the lower subterranean portion. Different websites disagree on which is which, so take your pick--"entertainment purposes only," and all that:

Here’s a nifty cross-section showing the underground portion, and one of the Star Trek-esque hallways:

Read more about it here, and find these maps (and more) here. Add some bullywugs, maybe some yuan-ti--or Nazis if your tastes run to pulp--and you’re ready to roll.  Crystal skulls strictly optional.

Warlord Wednesday: Back in the U.S.S.R.

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...

"Back in the U.S.S.R."

Warlord (vol. 1) #52 (December 1981)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell; inked by Robin Rodriguez

Synopsis: In the Terminator, the twilight zone between Skartaris and the outer Earth, Morgan trudges through a snowstorm. His only guide in the trackless waste is his compass and its pointing due south.

Getting lost isn’t the only danger. A looming shape out of the blowing snows reveals itself to be a wayward (and hungry) polar bear. With the bears reach, Morgan’s sword isn’t of much use, but he has his pistol and is able to dispatch the beast.

Meanwhile, in Castle Deimos, Shakira, Tara, and Faaldren worry over Jennifer. She’s still in a catatonic state, and none of them know what Deimos might have done to produce it--or how to reverse it. Tara is more worried about Morgan. She decides to go after him, and Shakira demands to accompany her.

The two ride out, Shakira in cat form on Tara’s fur-cloaked shoulder. They’re united in purpose, if not exactly on friendly terms. They leave Jennifer in Faaldren’s attentive care.

Out in the wastes, Morgan is worried he hasn’t seen Skartaris’ eternal sun yet. He mounts a rise and sees dawn breaking on the horizon--and realizes he’s been going the wrong way and is in the outer world! From the North Pole, all compass directions are south, he now recalls (which isn’t really right either, but Morgan’s science has never been the best). The only thing he can do is retrace his steps and go the opposite way.

He hasn’t gone far when he hears something coming toward him from the horizon:

A Soviet MiG “Foxbat!” The pilot turns and circles back--he spotted Morgan. He strafes at him with his machine guns, and Morgan defiantly shoots back with his pistol.

The pilot turns for another pass. Morgan reloads. He knows his chances are slim, but he’s determined to make a stand. The plane comes straight for him, but Mogan holds his ground:

Miraculously, he puts two bullets through the canopy, and one of those hits the pilot in the head. Morgan drops to the ground as the out of control jet passes right over him, then crashes a distance away.

Pretty pleased with himself, Morgan blows on the barrel of his gun, before twirling it around his finger and holstering in Western movie style.

He resumes his trek, but things aren’t going to be that easy. A familiar sound causes him to turn and look back at the plane’s wreckage. A helicopter is coming in for a landing!

Things to Notice:

• Morgan seems to have (slightly) warmer clothing now than when he left Castle Deimos.
• Morgan's compass comes out of nowhere.

Where It Comes From:
The title of this issue comes from a 1968 Beatles' song appearing on the White Album (actually titled The Beatles, according to Wikipedia).  It was released as a single in 1976.

"Foxbat" was the NATO reporting name for the MiG-25.  As Morgan knows it from the early stages--the prototype flew in 1964--but it didn't enter service until 1970, after he was in Skartaris.

Real Sandbox: Maps of Green Hell

Interested in a sandbox setting with wilderness and dungeons to explore? I’ve used the title "green hell" (borrowed from the 1940 film) for a fictional jungle land before, but this time I want to talk about the real deal--or at least one based in reality. Check out this somewhat fanciful map of the South American jungle--the Mato Grosso (“Thick Wood”):

A lot of cool stuff going on there. Some highlights:

• Unknown Mountains of Gold and Mystery - They had me at "gold."
• Unexplored Dangerous Territory - Obviously, explored enough to know its dangerous.
• Atlantean Hy-Brazilian Dead City - If Dead City weren’t adventure fodder enough, Atlantean ought to sweeten the mix, to say nothing of Hy-Brazilian.
• Strange “Cold” Light in Tower - Again the Hy-Brazilian Atlanteans are invoked for probably the most intriguing place on the map. And why is cold in quotation marks--so-called cold, perhaps? The mind boggles...

This is to say nothing of Indians in Roman style armor, headhunters, assorted glyphs, and the place where Fawcett vanished. It’s a whole jungle of adventure suitable for your fantasy or pulp game.

From the Mound

You never know what might be found in those ancient mounds doitting the Strange New World and perhaps other worlds, as well. Here are a few suggestions:

1. Eight giant (8-9 ft. tall) human-like skeletons in breast-plates and ornaments of a copper-like (but harder) metal. Armor is +1 but half the usual weight.  
2. 2d10 eggs that will hatch dungeon chickens if incubated.
3. A phantasmagoria magic lantern obviously of more recent manufacture than the mound itself.
4. Three partially buried skulls inscribed with mystical designs, which upon closer inspection are actually necrophidii.
5. The mummified corpses of 1d8 children of both sexes who were killed by ritual strangulation. They will rise as undead mummies on the first night of the new moon after excavation. 
6. A sarcophagi contain a person in strange, futuristic outfit. If the round, reflective glass helmet is removed it will reveal the apparently dead (but remarkably undecayed) body of one of the PCs at an advanced age.
7. A glass pyramid containing a Mantid Warrior-Nun, who is alert and active, but unable to escape.
8. A beautiful woman in ancient garb, who appears to be asleep. Approaching close enough to touch the woman (even if not actually doing so) will allow her to take possession of a victim’s body as per the magic jar spell. If successful, the victim’s soul enters a large gem in her regalia.
9. And so on... Any suggestions?

Murder Ballad

Happy Easter to everyone that celebrates it. :)

Now, on to darker topics....

In the world of the City, sometimes even songs can’t be trusted.

A man in a bar hears a bluesman sing a traditional ballad about a betrayal and the grim things that followed, and he goes and shoots his business partner. A housewife listens to an old record that spins a tale of woe about a wayward man and a woman’s revenge, and serves up a rat poison dinner to her husband.

What thaumaturgists know as a murder ballad is a malevolent alien presence which can hide within traditional songs recounting a murder. The exact song which conveys the entity or infection varies--perhaps even from one day to the next--but it may be that target individuals are somehow “marked” ahead of the performance and the song is chosen to maximize the chance of influence. What the entity ultimately desires is to induce the target to commit violent murder.

The performers who act as conduits for the ballads are called Murder Balladeers. At first, they’re unaware that they’re carriers of virulent murderousness, but over time the horrible true becomes clear. Early on they may turn to alcohol or drugs to escape the guilt, but eventually most either become corrupted willing participants or else take their own lives.

There are some stories that Murder Balladeers develop other music-based magical abilities over the time they carry the malefic influence, but this has not been verified.

Murder Ballad
Target is someone with angry or resentful feelings toward another--but not typically murderous feelings. The narrative of the song played will have elements that can vaguely relate to the target's present situation. A failed saving throw means the target’s anger and resentment will suddenly grow, and the target will attempt to murder object of his or her anger within whatever time frame is feasible (typically 24 hours). While the target is emotional, he or she is not without reason, so the attack will be as planful and calculated as the time permits. If the target is restrained or prevented from completing the attack for at least an hour, he or she receives a second saving throw. After 24 hours--or after a completed murder--the whole experience will seem dream-like to the target.  

Dispel magic cast during the song's performance will negate the murder ballad's effect, and protection from evil or the like will bar its influence.