Where's Your Head?

One of the strangest artifacts of the Ancients is the so-called Spectral-Head Harness. The device is a heavy, wide-shouldered pectoral of some reinforced leather-like material attached to a thick, rune-inscribed collar of black ceramic. The device is strapped to a wearer by a harness that seems composed of what seem like industrial hoses that follow lines of the wearer's ribcage. Once the device is strapped into place, it activates.

Jarus Shanck, adventurer and assassin, who gave his name to the City barony of Shancks, is the only recorded bearer of the artifact. What we know of its operation comes from accounts by Shanck’s associates. When Shanck was secured in the device, it began to emit a low hum. The sound lasted a few minutes. During this time, the flesh and hair on Shanck’s skull seemed to sublimate as a cloud of roiling mist formed around his head. Soon, only his skull was left, seemingly floating in the mist. Given that Shanck had never been considered a handsome man (He was extensively scarred, it was said, from too many narrow victories as a boy fighting giant rats in the gaming pits), this wasn’t an especially great loss. Interestingly though, the flesh of his skull was not actually gone. Close observation suggested it had merely been transformed--become hazy and indistinct--and mostly hidden by the mists it seemed to diffuse into.

Jarus Shanck always explained that his head had gone "elsewhere." Whatever that meant, the device seemed to grant the powers of True Seeing, Arcane Sight, and at least at sometimes, Precognition. Some claim it was futuresight that led Shanck to kill the sea creature, Thraug--but no one knows for certain. Shanck also ceased to need sleep, though his body still needed rest through inactivity. Attacks against his head would pass harmlessly through the mist and suffocation or drowning had no effect. It has been theorized that attacks that could effect the astral could have harmed his head, but this remains unproven.

Besides the obvious cosmetic effects, the harness had other disadvantages. The longer Shanck’s head spent wherever it went, the more he became distracted from things on the material plane. Increasingly concerned about this problem, Shanck finally sought to have the harness removed--and discovered another downside.

After Shanck’s death, the harness is said to have unlatched on its own. None of his lieutenants claimed it, and it disappeared from history. If the rumors about Shanck’s hidden treasure trove behind the cliffs along the Eldritch are true, it maybe that that is where the harness can be found--awaiting another head.

Warlord Wednesday: Future Trek

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...

"Future Trek"

Warlord #80 (April 1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Dan Adkins

Synopsis: At the end of last issue, a wolf-headed, bare (and hairy) chested New Atlantean captain and his troops had the drop on Tara and her Shamballan soldiers in the weapons cache cave. Before Captain Wolf-head can seize the weapons for the glory of New Atlantis, a stranger in black appears and starts shooting things with a ray gun.

That gives Tara and Scarhart the opening they need:

They make short work of the New Atlanteans. Before they can thank their mysterious benefactor, he’s disappeared.

Somewhere in the future, Morgan, Shakira, and Krystovar are chowing down on some fine nutria-stew and chatting with Dr. Reno Franklin. He thinks he’ll probably be able to return them to their own time once they get the kinks worked out of the saucer craft. Right now, they only go forward in time.

Our heroes will have to wait. Weeks pass. Krystovar studies English, Morgan explores the futuristic complex, and Shakira gets bored and does something rash.

In cat form, she sneaks up of the complex via an air duct (despite Morgan’s warning about the temporal incongruity between inside and outside). Following some interesting smells, she comes upon a fine denizen of the future:

It looks like cat is considered fine eating in this time because future primitive and his gang chase Shakira, forcing her to hide in a ruined city.

Later, back at the complex, Shakira angrily interrupts Morgan and Reno to ask why Morgan didn’t come looking for her when she’s been gone for days. It’s the time difference again; For those inside the base, she’s only been gone for a short while.

Intrigued by Shakira’s story, Reno suggests they check out the ruined city. Morgan concludes that the destruction could only have been caused by a nuclear attack. Reno finds a calendar showing the date is later than he thought: The devastation occurred sometime after October 1 2303! Realizing his life has become a Twilight Zone episode, Reno freaks out a bit. Morgan tells him to man up. They need to organize a scouting expedition to find out just how much devastation there is.

The scientists have got a small plane that Morgan can fly. They decide to fly out over Salt Lake City (the closest metropolitan area) and see what they can see. Morgan tells Reno he’s been to the future before, but this one is different. Reno explains that, theoretically, there are an infinite number of alternate future timelines.

Salt Lake City is bombed out. Morgan prepares to fly in low to look for survivors, but:

Futuristic soldiers bring them aboard with a sort of force beam. Morgan tries to explain who they are to the captain of the group. Unsurprisingly, he’s skeptical of Morgan’s story of secret time travel projects. They’re arrested as spies…

Things to Notice:

• The Shamballan soldier extras with Tara and Scarhart seem to appear and disappear in different panels.
• There's little continuity between the dress of the Shamballans and the New Atlanteans here and last issue.
• Morgan's military training doesn't lead him to offer any other suggestion to the future Air Force captain than "call the President" to confirm his tale of a secret government project.

Where It Comes From:

This issue references Morgan and Shakira's previous jaunt to the future Australia in Grell's last storyline (issues #69-71).

How Many Are Out There?

So it looks like the orders of Weird Adventures are getting out there.  Over in the Land of Nod, Matt had some kind words.  It's got Bill the Dungeonmaster fired up over at The Crown and the Ring, and Jack, spinner of Tales of the Grotesque and Dungeonesque, has got a copy in his hands.

Anybody else got theirs yet and care to let me know?  I think the lord of Gothridge Manor is still waiting...

In the Belly of the Beast

Leviathans are perhaps the largest and most mysterious denizens of the ocean depths. These gigantic creatures dwarf both whales and reptilian sea serpents. Their name in the gurgling language of the sea devils translates roughly as “monster-thing stronger than even the gods.” Despite their great size, the creatures are seldom seen, and carcasses are rarer still.

Some have suggested that the size of leviathans is impossible and therefore indicative of a magical nature. It has been theorized that the creatures' rarity is a by-product of the fact that they actually swim through the etheric substructure of reality, only passing through the physical world’s oceans incidentally.

The discovery of a leviathan carcass always instigates a mini-”gold rush.” The flesh and bone of the beast are of interest to alchemists (synthetic insulating blubber was an outgrowth of study of the leviathan) and thaumaturgists who use various leviathan parts for spell materials. Leviathan ambergris can be used to make perfumes and colognes easily infused with charm or suggestion properties. It’s also a psychoactive and can be smoked to produce a euphoric effect and intense sexual desire that in some individuals manifests a a mania lasting 10 x 1d4 minutes.

Less scientifically minded individuals hope to salvage treasure swallowed by the leviathan in its journeys. Whole ships laden with cargo are sometimes found (this is facilitated by the fact that internally leviathans are cavern-like, evidencing a strange paucity of organs). The loot-minded must be wary, however. Strange miasmas are sometimes produced inside a dead leviathan that can cause death or mutagenic effects on the unprotected.

Get Your Motor Running

I watched the science fiction anime Redline from Madhouse Studios last night,and it got me thinking about the “crazy road race” genre. You know, things like Cannonball Run (1981), It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963), and the Hanna-Barbera cartoon, Wacky Races. I think this sort of race set-up is rife with gaming potential.

The genre goes beyond mundane (well, not that cars with buzzsaw wheels are mundane to begin with) auto-racing. Redline puts the race in a sci-fi context as does Yogi’s Space Race (remember that one?). Thundarr gets into the game with the “Challenge of the Wizards” episode. Almost all the animated version of this trope have vehicles tricked out with weapons, and some live action one’s do, too--see the rally sequence of the criminall underrated live-action Speed Racer with it’s morning-star armed viking racers.

Obviously, Car Wars could do this sort of think. The ever prolific Matt Stater's Mutant Truckers would work, too. Fantasy systems aren’t out of the question, though (see Thundarr). And of course, you can do this sort of thing pre-automobile. A race to become leader of a kingdom or some such (similar to the tournaments for leadership in Mystara's Ierendi or the titular Empire of the Petal Throne) could use various sorts of fantastic mounts or maybe flying ships--or flying carpets. However you choose, just get those those charcter's on the road to adventure!

Railroading All Gamers Can Enjoy

Hell on Wheels on AMC tells the story of a mobile camp accompanying the construction of the first intercontinental railroad. It has the usual assortment of characters and professions one would expect in any boomtown, plus individuals looking to actively escape civilization for reasons of there own.

The series (which just completed its first season) would obviously be good inspiration for a Western or Steampunk game, but I think it has something to offer fantasy gaming, as well. Non-traditional fantasy would be the most obvious (Mieville has a railroad being built in Iron Council and Eberron has got trains) but a good old fashion wilderness hexcrawl might be informed by the series, too.

All that’s really needed is a reason for a raucous camp of adventurers and hangers-on to be travelling through the wilderness. Perhaps they're doing something as mundane as cutting a new road (like Daniel Boone and his men in Cherie Priest’s Those Who Went Remain There Still) or maybe they’re doing something more exotic, like riding a giant monster so they can mine stuff from its body. Whatever. They just need to be travelling across the wilderness and dragging a bit of civilization with them.

One of Hell on Wheels’s promo posters proclaims: “Blood will be spilled. Lives will be lost. Men will be ruined.” Sounds like a call to adventure to me.

The Walls of Graveston Prison

“Abandon All Hope” reads the blood red graffiti some wag has managed to scrawl on the stone cliff beside the docks. It may well be the first thing most prisoners see when emerging from the department of correction’s ferry at Graveston, the Union’s most notorious maximum security prison.

Graveston looks like a Medieval fortress and seems to rise from a rocky isle in San Tiburon Bay as if it grew from it. Popular stories suggest that sea devils once held pagan rituals on the island before the Natives were finally able to drive the humanoids. Current thaumatological theory considers this unlikely, because of the island's unusual properties: The stone which forms it generates an anti-magic zone that leeches the power from any spell.

This property made the island an ideal spot for a prison to hold thaumaturgists. Though modern Graveston holds dangerous men of all sorts, its lowest levels hold criminal mages and magical entities. Hell Syndicate hitman Charley Rictus and the murderous ventriloquist’s dummy Otto were held here at one time alongside a host of thaumaturgic wrongdoers. All of them are rendered powerless (supposedly) by the island’s stone.

There is some evidence that the current theories island's anti-magic nature are incomplete. Belief has power here, which is why the warden and guards work hard to break the spirits of the inmates. No god or spirit-form can be more powerful than their authority within Graveston’s stone walls. Some have suggested this has had the effect of allowing seepage of the Black Prison into the Material plane--which may have long term consequences.

Also, magically enhanced shivs and shanks are sometimes found among the population. Beyond the power of petty spirits and eikones yet unbroken by the screws’ clubs, life itself carries a thaumaturgic charge. And when that life is wasted in spilled blood, the blood does, too. Blood sacrifices (of their own, or better yet, others) grant prisoners power, but some of this blood power is always lost to the floor, to the walls. What might the stones do with all that power, one might wonder?