It Just Gets More Weird: Updates to the Index

I've added a few more entries to the Weird Adventures Index page for your edification and enjoyment.  First off, a couple of interesting characters of the sort the City frequently produces: the paladin of the working poor, Joan Darkling, and the oozing, accidental crime lord, Waxy Moldoon.

In the monster section, the formians are staging a very efficient and quiet invasion. A couple of para-elementals are a bit more likely to get noticed: petro-elementals rise from oil wells and mephiti menace Char Hill, a town atop a coal seam fire.  Tuning in to a radio para-elemental can be just as nasty, but in a more different way.

After that, if your looking for a an escape from those noxious (and toxic) creatures, how about a vacation to that sweet tooth Shangri-La, the Rock Candy Mountain.

Swarm of Husks

Likely the product of a deranged (and necromantically adept) mind, a swarm of husks is composed of undead insects that died in light fixtures or between window panes. These creatures died in crude despair as only the mindless can know it, and that inchoate emotion, combined with energy from the negative plane, is a powerful force.  These swarms take some time to gather, but once formed will do the bidding of the necromancer who raised them.

Husk swarms have the standard properties of a swarm of diminutive creatures, plus those standard to undead. Any creature beginning its turn inside the swarm must make a saving throw or be nauseated for 1 round. The husk swarm is hungry for life force and will crawl into the mouth or nostrils of a victim (failed saving throw) over a period of 1 minute.  Once inside a living thing, they drain 1d4 levels from it (or add negative levels, however you want to look at) like the spell enervation.

Some anecdotal reports suggest that bright lights can attract a swarm, distracting them from living targets.

Saint Joan of the City

On the southern end of Eldside Park there is a bronze statue of a stern-faced woman in plate armor holding a sword. The lady couldn’t be more out of place, surrounded by greenery and the picnicking wealthy. Her battles were fought in the stockyards, waterfront, and railyards. This is Joan Darkling--to the City’s labor movement, Saint Joan.

Joan Darkling was born in the Smaragdine coal country. She saw the worst of the mining companies' attempts to stop miners from organizing. Strikers were shot by hired mercenaries. Agitators died of poisoning from deadly ores inserted by malign kobolds imported from Ealderde. Joan left the Smaragdines in her teen years and became an adventurer, but never forgot where she came from.

Joan survived many a delve to retired from adventuring young. She took up the cause of the City’s workers with the same zeal she’d showed in slaying monsters. She wore magical plate armor she had scavenged from a delve to labor rallies. They were just another form of battle.

The famous folk song about Joan says she died after her battle with the “Golem of Capitalism”--a brazen, bull-headed construct sent against her by a consortium of robber barons. She defeated the bull, but succumbed to poisoning, caused by the alchemical smoke rising from the bull’s boiler and snorted from its nostrils. That’s what the song says.

In reality, no one knows what became of Joan Darkling. It is true that she disappeared soon after her battle with the golem, but no death was ever recorded, and the last to see her say they she was pained by a few wounds but seemed in no way dying.

Some say Joan sleeps somewhere in a subterranean chamber, awaiting the time when she is needed again. When injustices visited upon the poor and downtrodden worker will again require her to do battle with monsters.

Joan Darkling’s Sword: Joan wielded a Holy Avenger, an intelligent blade who adopted Darkling's crusade. It has a particular dislike of fat cats and acts as a bane of monied interests and their agents, getting a +1 against such individuals, regardless of alignment.

Warlord Wednesday: A Dream Rekindled

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...

"A Dream Rekindled"

Warlord #88 (December 1984)

Written by Cary Burkett; Penciled by Dan Jurgens; Inked by Rich Buckler.

Synopsis: In the port city of Bakwele, Scarhart and Morgan are seeking provisions, but wind up getting into a fight when a soldier insists Scarhart take the place of an injured slave bearing the governor’s litter. Outnumbered, our heroes try to escape into back alleys, but are blocked by a dead end.

Only briefly stymied, they escape across the rooftops after Scarhart knocks a chimney down on their pursuers.  Morgan’s impressed:

Meanwhile, hundreds of leagues away, beneath the Great Fire Mountain, Tinder and his new buddy Chaka discover ancient chambers full of treasure and decorated with the sinister image of someone familiar to readers of this saga…

In Bakwele, Morgan and Scarhart seek a contact in the black market, Patch, recommended to them by Cap’n Hawk. Asking around in a tavern only gets them in another brawl, as they're mistaken for Atlantean spies.  Our heroes are saved by the appearance of Patch, who throws a mean knife:

Patch takes them back to her home to talk. They meet her young son, Avenel, who excitedly tells them that a leader is coming to free them from Atlantean tyranny—a rider came through proclaiming it.  Morgan gets excited too, and asks what this leader’s name is. 

His hope dies when the boy tells him that the man is called “the Warlord.” He realizes the boy must have met Aton when he was Morgan’s herald, proclaiming the army of liberation.  But all that ended. Aton died at Deimos’s hand and the army of ex-gladiators became bandits. 

Morgan can’t hide his tears from the boy; he quickly changes the subject, though, and gets back to business. Soon, they’re sneaking down to the docks, so that Patch’s men can smuggle provisions onto the boats from the Wind Shadow.  The plan hits a snag when they're discovered by Atlantean troops. 

They manage to escape—all except Avenel.  The boy is in Atlantean hands and on his way to interrogation!

Things to Notice:

• The Atlantean troops in Bakwele eschew the usual horned helmets we've seen before for capes. Maybe these are just collaborators?
• The Evil One was pretty full of himself.  His treasure room has pictures of his diabolic mug all over the walls.

Where It Comes From:
This issue goes back to the recurrent Warlord theme of Travis Morgan having a noble goal, but failing to follow through. It also hints that he's starting to be mythologized a bit: Aton's visit was well before the Atlantean invasion, but Avenel assumes the two are related.

The Evil One was last seen (and defeated) by a Travis and Jennifer Morgan and friends in issue #66. He was turned back to his original form, the Gollum-esque Craetur in that issue.

Spirit of Radio

Sometimes the voice on the airwaves isn’t human. Late night on an empty frequency you can sometimes hear plaintive whispers between the static: the lonely call of a radio spirit. These electromagnetic para-elementals appear to arise spontaneously from radio transmissions. They're often a nuisance--and sometimes a real danger--within the City and elsewhere.

Radio para-elementals can manifest in any radio. They typically speak in snippets of broadcasts they’ve overheard, mimicking the various voices whose words they steal. They can, however, mimic a single radio personality's voice if they choose, but seem to do it less commonly. Having matured in a sea of pitchmen and songtresses, they develop uncanny abilities to manipulate humans with their assumed voices. They can replicate the bard-like abilities of fascinate, suggestion, and mass suggestion.

They’re not limited to mimicking human voices. They can fascinate equally well with music, or lull to sleep with a magical lullaby. Also, they can create a high volume static which acts as a sonic burst--though this typically blows out the speaker of the radio they're utilizing.

If particularly enraged, a spirit can arc forth from a speaker as pure electricity. It does 1d6 points of damage (additional 1d6 to someone in metal armor). This is treated as a charging attack. This attack causes the para-elemental to dissipate with the effort.  It takes then 2d6 days to reform.

RADIO PARA-ELEMENTAL
AC: 2 [18]
Move: 18
HD: 6
Attacks/Dmg: 1 spell-like power or arc
Defenses: immune to electricity, and other elemental immunities
Special: Vulnerable to water (1d8 points per gallon of water, or double damage on water-based spells), spell like abilities as above (and perhaps other bardic abilities): fascinate, suggestion, mass suggestion, sonic burst.

The New Avatar

This has nothing to do with that Cameron movie of the same name. Instead, The Legend of Korra is Nickelodeon animated series is set in the world of the much cooler Avatar: The Last Airbender (the animated series, not the Shyamalan film). If you haven’t seen it read this, and then come back.

The Legend of Korra is set seventy years after the end of the original series. Korra, the headstrong young avatar, runs away from the domain of the Southern Water Tribe to get trained in airbending by Master Tenzin. She arrives in Republic City, capital of the United Republic of Nations, rather unprepared for the fast-paced city life. She immediately runs afoul of anti-bender “Equalists”, gangsters, and the police--and that’s just in the first episode.

The Legend of Korra has the elements of the original series: the Asian-flavored fantasy world, distinctive elemental magics based on different martial arts styles, and the crazy portmanteau animals, but adds some new stuff. Republic City has a more advanced technology like zeppelins, cars (with roofs like Chinese palanquins), and radio. The shift to a fantasy urban environment also adds some interesting social wrinkles: a professional sport version of bending, criminal organizations, anti-bending revolutionaries, and the avatar in an age of mass-media.

So far, the series seems just as well-done as the original, with attention to detail, interesting characters, and serial storytelling. The post-Industrial Revolution fantasy world is a rarirty in game settings (rarer than in fiction even) and this is an interesting example of how it can be done without going strongly Steampunk (though that term was used in some of the promo material, Republic City is more Pulp era than Victorian) or magitech.

Taking a Bite Out of Hoborxen

After a week haitus, Creskin and Boris were back in action in the City, with Don Diabolico down due to illness. The boys met with John Vandemaur's widow, Viviane.  She pinned her husband's death on Indrid Bliss (the very much living man our heroes had freed from Vandemaur's coffin), a thaumaturgist with whom he had gone into business to exploit the incursions of the alien city onto Hoborxen.  She said they had used the abandoned Tekeli-li Club as a base of operations, and our heroes ought to start looking for John there.

She tied it up all nice with a bow, and offered to pay 50 bucks a day, plus expenses.  The only problem was, her story didn't ring completely true.  No one was sure what the truth was, though--and their greedy, anyway--so they played along. 

They searched Vandemaur's study and found a note written in the margin of an old occult book: "Incursions from Elsewhere" - Montagu Ware? Nobody knew what it meant, but they thought the Thaumaturgical Society library might be a good place to try and find out--only it was closed for the day.  So it was off the Hoborxen.  Creskin also asked if they could borrow a sphere of alien glass with a glow inside that came from the alien city hat Vandemaur had been using as a paperweight.

The gang crossed the Eldritch River and entered Hoborxen at night.  The club wasn't hard to find, but strange, ash-gray, fairy creatures, peculiar to the alien city replacing parts of Hoborxen, immediately started to make a nuisance of themselves. The boys got into the club, and found omnious stains on the floor and an old ritual circle. 

Then a gargoyle came crashing through a boarded up window.  Discretion being the better part of valor, our heroes hid from it--and they might've escaped notice, if the the foul-mouthed fairy-things hadn't flown in the busted window and started harassing them.  The gargoyle made it clear that he had orders to kill them, but the glass sphere somehow kept him at bay.  He flew off in a snit, leaving the boys to continue their search and do battle with the fairies.

With only four present, the diminutive things were more a nuisance than a harzard, but Creskin and Boris had a devil of a time hitting them.  Finally, Creskin grabbed one flying up in his face--and tried to bite it's head off!  The head proved resistant to removal, but the thing died, leaving a horrible taste in Creskin's mouth.

A fairy-on-gargoyle pile-on outside eventually drew them away and our heroes made it to the last room in the building.  There they found a gruesome sight--and a nauseating smell: A flayed man, dissected and pinned like a frog in a biology class.  Never one to leave anything they can carry away, the boys gathered up the various bits, wrapped them in a few table clothes, and threw them in the trunk of their rental car.

Then, it was back across the Eldritch River through the Corund Tunnel--still confused as hell about just what was going on.