North to Alaska

Like the Johnny Horton song says (theme to a 1960 John Wayne film, by the way), I'm "way up north" for a few days.

In keeping with the theme, why don't you check out my take on the wendigo, if you missed it the first time?

Cancerous Growth

As the story goes, some well-meaning thaumaturgist or scientist developed a form of artificial flesh to revolutionize the practice of medicine. Adventurers who encounter the ever-growing, ever-consuming neoplastic blob might have a moment to appreciate the irony before being absorbed into the quivering flesh.

HD: 5
AC: 8
Save: F2
Attacks: 1
Defenses: regenerates 3 hp/round; half damage from bludgeoning weapons.
Special: On a successful hit (or if the neoplastic blob is touched directly by an attacker) it begins to engulf the person on a failed saving throw. Absorption takes 1d6 rounds. As long as part of a person is still free of the creature they may still escape, but it will require someone else to help them except for the very strongest.

Warlord Wednesday: Tinderbox

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...

"Tinderbox"

Warlord (vol. 1) #59 (July 1982)

Written by Mike Grell (Sharon Grell); Penciled by Mike Grell; Inked by Mike DeCarlo

Synopsis: Despite his reservations, a couple of Darvin’s other urchins convince Tinder to sneak inside the mysterious cell. When they see a strange, angular shadow on the wall they run away, leaving Tinder alone with whatever cast the shadow. Tinder’s made of more adventurous stuff than the others, and dagger drawn, he creeps toward the shadow’s source.

What he finds is a man chained and imprisoned in an iron mask. That man is the Warlord--and Tinder’s real father.

Morgan hears someone around and starved for human contact, he begs him to stay. He promises not to hurt him, and asks his name. Tinder warily tells him. Morgan asks the boy if he likes stories. Tinder says he does--sometimes. Morgan assures him he’ll like this one, then regales him with his tale of the outer Earth--a world of flying ships, chariots without horses, and a sun that moves throughout the sky, and falls leaving the land in darkness. Tinder marvels at this story--never guessing the armlet he wears (Morgan’s wristwatch) comes from that very world.

Meanwhile Praedor is meeting in a secluded part of the palace garden with the Morgan impersonator. Praedor complains about Darvin’s greediness and the impersonator’s poor work--primarily due to his drunkenness. The fact that Tara is seeking solace with Graemore means the impersonator has lost influence over her. Either he cleans up his act, or Praedor’s going to abandon the whole scheme, have Morgan “disappear,” and turn the whole thing into a ransom plot. The impersonator promises to do better.

Praedor then meets with two grinning assassins. The real Warlord is now more of a liability than insurance--as is his greedy, too clever keeper. They’re to find Darvin at the Blue Goose tavern, but he must lead them to the prisoner before they kill him.

Meanwhile, Griff (shirking his duties, gaming with friends) sees Darvin walking toward the hideout. Griff takes off running to make it back to his post before he can be caught away. He makes it back and finds the door open, but doesn’t see Tinder. Quickly, he shuts the door--and just in time. Darvin tells him to come to his office.

Darvin tells Griff that they have more royalty under their roof than in the palace. Griff doesn’t know what he means. Darvin asks if Tinder’s still around. Girff says he is. Darvin tells him to keep a close eye on him--he’s a very important boy. Girff asks who’s going to watch the prisoner in the dungeon. Darvin replies that may not be an issue soon: he’ll likely be disposed of.

This doesn’t sit well with Tinder who's listening outside the door. For some reason, he feels moved to act to save the prisoner. When Darvin comes out on his way to the Blue Goose, Tinder bumps into him by “accident”--and picks his pocket for the keys without Darvin noticing. Almost as soon as Darvin’s gone, Griff (paragon of work ethic) leaves as well, leaving Tinder to guard the door.

In the tavern, the two assassin’s approach Darvin to get the “package.” Darvin intends to give them the keys, but finds them missing from his pocket. The assassin’s aren't bothered. At the point of a dagger, they suggest to Darvin they all go back together.

Meanwhile, Tinder has opened the door and uses the keys to begin unchaining Morgan. He plans to leave with him--he doesn’t know why Darvin has suddenly taken an interest in him and he doesn’t like it. As Tinder moves to open the mask, Morgan grasps the wristwatch around the boy’s arm. He seems to recognize it--but at that moment Tinder hears heavy footsteps on the dungeon stairs! 

Things to Notice:

• Grell is back on pencils!
• Morgan and Joshua are (unknowingly) reunited for the first time.

Where It Comes From:
The two assassins hired by Praedor look familiar.  Overall, the two of them evoke Fafhrd and Gray Mouser.  The shorter one is dressed and armed similarly to DC's rendition of the Mouser (drawn in Wonder Woman #201-202 by Dick Giordano and by Howard Chaykin in Sword of Sorcery #1-5).  The taller, musclebound one with the squarecut black mane isn't Fafhrd but rather resembles Conan.  The gap between his front teeth resembles the movie version in Conan the Barbarian this same year.

Lanterns Green and Other Four Color Features

Green Lantern underperformed its opening weekend, but I don’t think that should dissuade anyone who enjoys superhero films from seeing it. It may not be the best of the bunch, and it’s a bit formulaic (why is it that since Iron Man the hero’s journey only ever starts from irresponsible jackass? Aren’t there some other stock lessons to learn?) Anyway, my point is: if you thought Thor was great, you’ll probably think Green Lantern is at least “good.”

A bit better though is the latest DC animated effort Green Lantern: Emerald Knights. This is an anthology like the previous Batman: Gotham Knight, but instead of giving alternate takes on the same character, it gives glimpses of lantern’s besides Hal Jordan. The framing sequence involves Arisia arriving on Oa as a rookie just as Krona is trying to bust out of the antimatter universe. More seasoned lanterns tell her stories as they prepare--and wait--for Krona to strike. Three of the four stories are based on ones from the comic book (one, “Abin Sur,” really only loosely borrows from Alan Moore’s “Tygers”--adding in Geoff Johnsian elements like Atrocitus). These include the wuxia-infused “Laira” (inspired by “What Price Honor?”) and another Moore tale, “Mogo Don’t Socialize.”

For what I think is the best of DC Animated’s recent films we’ve got to go outside the Corps. All-Star Superman a very faithful adaptation of Morrision and Quitley’s eponymous limited series. Both are veritable love letters to the Silver Age and ring from those tropes a tale at once postmodern and mythic.

If you got the time from only one superhero dramatization, skip all the recent live action films and see All-Star Superman.

Why do You Think I Have This Outrageous Accent?

A question for you GMs out there: How much do you “play” NPCs in your game?

I (mostly) tend to play NPCs as characters. They get their own manner of speech and verbal idiosyncrasies. A pirate captain might get a vaguely piratical patter, a wealthy, double-dealing merchant might sound like Sydney Greenstreet in The Maltese Falcon, or a supercilious shopowner a bit like Jonathan Harris' Dr. Smith in Lost in Space (I should add all these voices most only be considered approximate). I tend to keep the use of accents to a minimum, as I’m not particularly good at them, but sometimes I hint at them with stereotypical vocabulary.

Now that’s what I try to do. Sometimes I lose track of who I gave what voice to. Other times it just gets tedious dropping in and out of character, so I mostly abandon it once the player’s have “got it.”

I’ve played in games where GMs did similarly, but also games where the GMs went light on differentiating NPCs, often just telling the players what they said in the third person. I have no idea which approach is must common, though.

(The title of this post also represents my first Monty Python reference in a year and a half of rpg-blogging. I feel like I’ve crossed some sort of Rubicon.)

Pictures from Ealderde

Though the Great War diminshed its importance to the City and the New World, the Old World continues:

Despite the ever-present poison, mutagenic fog and periodic morlock assaults, the surviving people of Lugdun seldom fail to take part in traditional Godsday worship services.

Soldiers in the Imperial Staarkish Army on the day the Great War began with one of their walkers.

Hellhounds--summoned and bound by military sorcerers during the war--now stalk the wastes in Eastern Ealderde.

Hard times have led people to turn to perverse old religions out of desperation. Here, witchcraft is lampooned in a racy stage show in Metropolis, but the fear of these cults is very real.

Since Korambeck had to relinquish its hold over the Middle East, the Jinn (beings of smokeless fire) have reasserted their rule over much of the region. There are rumors they’re even rebuilding their fabled capital lost Irem of the Pillars.

Mail Order Monster

Some unlucky sap in the City will find out this ad is genuine--at least once. The seeds for seven plant monsters will arrive, but there is only a 30% chance of 1-3 more than one of them actually being viable. One is quite enough, as it grows into a ravenous monster with a taste for flesh. Small quantities of blood will satiate it for the first 1d8 days, then it require small animals or the equivalent for 2d12 more. Finally, only human flesh will truly satiate it: one full body every 3-4 days. The creature communicates its needs nonvocally--perhaps telepathically--with its owner. Only the need is clear, not how this is known. It will not let the owner rest unless it's fed. The incessant need has been known to drive men to madness.

After 5-6 weeks the monster has reached full size and goes on a rampage. The oh-so helpful owner is often the first victim.

[I'd treat the grown creature(s) as a tendriculos from the SRD, or from the Swords & Wizardry Monster Compendium.]