Every Picture Tells A Story

Here are some pics I gathered.  Some were snagged for posts already written, but unused.  Others have yet to find their proper place...

The streets of Terminus, in southern Arn, at nightfall...

An audience with an Onirean potentate...

Pnathfrem Lloigor, crime boss in Terminus, finds your story dubious...

Eerily, the Priest-King's concubine looks just as she must have in life, despite the millenia that have passed...

Warlord Wednesday: Lair of the Snowbeast

Let's enter the lost world with yet another installment of my issue by issue examination of DC Comic's Warlord, the earlier installments of which can be found here...

"Lair of the Snowbeast"
Warlord (vol. 1) #9 (October-November 1977)

Written and Illustrated by Mike Grell

Synopsis: Morgan, Machiste, and Mariah trudge through the snow in a perpetually clouded valley in the midst of a blizzard. The three are searching for shelter, but before they can find it, they cross paths with a megalictis--a giant wolverine-like carnivore. The beast slashes Morgan with its claws, but he still manages to jump on its back and put seven shots into its skull.

Machiste and Mariah crouch over the fallen Morgan, unsure if he's alive or dead. From out of the blowing snows, approachs a group of men riding mammoths. The men demand Machiste and Mariah come with them. When the two protest that their friend needs medical attention, the men's leader callously replies that he's dead--or will be very soon.

Before they can offer any further protest, Mariah and Machiste are snatched up by the mammoths' trunks. The mammoth-riders and their captives disappear into the storm, leaving Morgan were he fell.

But Morgan isn't dead. Willing himself to stand, he trudges on through the snow seeking shelter until he can't go any further. With a resigned "aw, what the hell--" he collapses again.  In his half-conscious state, he imagines a strange, butterfly-winged woman lifts him in her arms and carries him away.

When Morgan returns fully to his senses, he's lying in a warmed, inhabited cave. His wounds have been miraculously healed, though his outfit was apparently shredded beyond repair. Suddenly, Morgan turns to see a yeti-like monster entering the cave. He tosses a burning piece of wood at it, and snatches up his sword.

The creature's faster. It catches Morgan mid-sword-swing, and slams him up against the wall. As it seems poised to deliver a killing below, its expression suddenly softens, and it lets Morgan go. At the beast's show of mercy, Morgan intuits that it was who saved him. There's an intelligent mind trapped in the creature's brutish body! The beast hits the cave wall, seemingly frustrated by its condition. Morgan apologizes for judging by appearances.

He asks the beast if it knows where the mammoth riders might have taken his friends. Mutely, it shows him a city in the distance, atop a tower of rock--and connected to the rim of the valley by a bridge. Morgan salvages what clothes he can from the beast's cave and heads out into the storm. The creature seems worried about him going, but Morgan tells it not to worry--he's not going to throw away the life it saved.

Morgan climbs the rock tower, back into tropical temperatures. At the top, he finds Mariah and Machiste about to be sacrifices in a barbaric ritual. He swings Tarzan-style into the fray, cutting down enemies as he goes. He frees his companions, but soon the sheer numbers of tribesmen threaten to overwhelm them.

Suddenly, the shrieking snowbeast drops from the trees. It tears through the tribesmen, and grabs Morgan to rescue him. Mariah and Machiste misunderstand the beast's actions, and Machiste throws a spear into its back to save his friend.

The beast is dying, and Morgan lashes out verbally at Machiste for his rash act. Suddenly, the butterfly-winged woman materializes from the beast's corpse. She tells Morgan not to grieve, because now she's free. She explains that her name is Tanea, and long ago, she dabbled in the black arts to save her tribe from a plague. The price she paid was to be imprisoned in the body of the beast--until someone came along who could see beyond the bestial exterior to the beauty within. That "someone" was Morgan. Tanea gives him a passionate kiss, then flies off.

Mariah asks Morgan to explain, but Morgan says he doesn't think he can--and suggests they leave before the remaining warriors come back.

Things to Notice:

• Morgan dons his classic loincloth costume for the first time.
• Dig the very disco-era design of Tanea.

Where It Comes From:
The obvious source for this issue's story is the fairy-tale "Beauty and the Beast." The first published version of the tale ("La Belle et la Bête") was by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot, Dame de Villeneuve, and appeared in La Jeune Américaine, et les Contes Marins in 1740. Grell's version, of course, does a gender reversal on the usual tale.

Grell's Bête may have its origins in a made-for-TV horror movie airing earlier in 1977. Snowbeast, broadcast on U.S. TV on April 28, starred Bo Svenson and told the story of a white-furred, bigfoot-type creature's attack on a Colorado ski resort. Beyond the name, Warlord's snowbeast has at least a bit of resemblance to the movies:

Megalictis ferox a large predatory mustelid of the early Miocene. It resembled a wolverine but was larger--Wikipedia suggests a mass up to 60kg--though A Dictionary of Zoology (1999) by Allaby is apparently familiar with the Skartarian variety. It suggests they can be up to black bear size.

Post-Game Report: A Sea of Troubles

This past Sunday, we continued our Warriors & Warlock campaign, using a freely-adapted version of Paizo's Children of the Void in the Second Darkness adventure path. Our regular cast:

Brother Gannon - Is he thief, monk--or both?
Renin - Mind-mage out to save the world who hates and fears him. Or something.
Zarac - He loves only gold...but he really likes his sword.

Things looked bleak for our heroes and their attempt to get in on the "skymetal rush" on Devil's Elbow Island after the fall of a star--and a resultant tsunami that wrecked Raedelsport's harbor. Luckily, a merchant-speculator, Tavrem Kalus, had come to their aid with an offer of passage on the only ship available--for a forty percent cut of the profits, naturally.

The party had dinner with Captain Djosspur Kray aboard his vessel, the Flying Cloud. Mainly, this was a chance for the Captain to grill the three on what their objectives on the Devil's Elbow were, and to deliver some exposition about the island's curse! Said curse involved a siren named Ysersei, and made its dread presence felt in the form of Brother Gannon's player's inability to pronounce the siren's name, even with the other players' couching.

The dinner was interrupted by the sound and smells of burning. Rushing up to the deck, they found black-clad saboteurs setting fire to the sails. Gannon dispatched one with a quickly thrown dagger. Renin mind-blasted one from the mast. Zarac rolled too low on initiative to do aught but shout encouragement.

Despite their style of dress, the saboteurs were no ninja. More like non-ja. They beat a haste retreat over the side of the ship. Quick thinking Renin telekinetically dipped a barrel in the ocean and used it to douse the sails. Gannon and Zarac apprehended the two fallen saboteurs--who were unconscious and didn't really put up a fight.

The Captain set his crew to repairing the sails, and gave the party leave to conduct the interrogations as they saw fit. Two captives meant two interrogations. Renin proceeded with mind-reading his captive. Zarac and Gannon planned to resort to "harsh interrogation techniques," but finding the W&W rules required a full day for really good torture, they decide just to Intimidate.

The two saboteurs sang the same song: the party's old nemesis, now supposed business partner, crime boss Clegg Haddo hired them to make sure no other ships got out of the harbor. The party at first takes this as a personal attack, but later decided it was just Haddo hedging his bets against everybody. As thanks for the information, the saboteurs get thrown overboard still tied.

The repairs were completed by dawn, and the Flying Cloud crossed the eighteen miles to the Devil's Elbow. The closer they got, the more nervous Captain Kray was. He found a good reason to be--as soon as they docked, they were approached by a ragged group coming out of the forest, asking passage back to Raedelsport. These few were all that's left of the mixed human and dwarven mercenaries hired by the Lord Mayor of Raedelsport to get the skymetal. The leader of the expedition, Urumdarru Goldhammer, told a story of strange, deadly creatures lurking in the forest, who passed on a horrifying contagion to men they killed.

Kray is ready to go now, for sure, but promises to pick the party back up in three days time. The three adventurers are left on the docks with the sea to their backs, and the foreboding forest in front of them.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Two Faiths

I've alluded to the predominant religions of Arn and western Erida in a couple of places before, but I'll present them here in more detail. The two faiths are related historically and tend to be able to co-exist without much conflict, though this varies with time and place. As with any widespread religion in the real world, they are understood and practiced in a variety of different ways by adherents in different areas, but the essential elements are presented here.

The Church of Ascension
When Ahzuran achieved apotheosis and became God-Emperor of Old Thystara, he set in motion drastic changes in the traditional religion of the empire. The old gods were no longer seen as the unknowable creators of all, but instead as beings in a higher state. With a living God-Emperor, it was natural that his cult would become preeminent, and the cults of the other gods suffered as a result. It's possible that sectarian violence might have ripped the empire apart, and it certainly weakened it, but its dissolution was forestalled by the establishment of the Concordant. This allowed the continued existence of the old cults with some modification under the authority of the new church.

Authority within the church is nominally centralized, at first in the person of the God-Emperor, then later in the Hierophant, who is taken to be Noble Ahzuran's representative on Earth. The size and complexity of this task for those of less than Ascended capabilities often makes the authority essentially ceremonial, however. The major cults of the old gods (Seiptis, Æternus, Illumé, etc.) and the Ascended which arose in Ahzuran's wake (Ffalstagg, Illyra, etc.) have seats on the governing counsel who advise (and elect) the Hierophant.

The principle doctrine of the Church of Ascension is that man may achieve apotheosis by following the ancient paths rediscovered by Ahzuran. Acension is achieved by deeds which may be beyond the power of many, but piety will at least guarantee the faithful who don't ascend a place in the afterlife ruled by their patron Immortal.

Clerics of the Church of Ascension, not only pursue the paths of Ascension themselves (for the greater glory of the Church, of course) but aid other adventurers in this quest. They play a role in helping the church hierarchy determine the fitness of new godlings or entities encountered to be added to the Annals of the Ascended for the purposes of recognition and veneration.

The Issian Church
Over a century after Ahzuran moved beyond this plane, leaving his empire and church in the hands of mortals, a Thystaran man named Issus claimed to have a revelation. Issus proclaimed that, in a vision, Ahzuran and other great Immortals had shown him the truth--that Ascension was a state all men deserved. However, the arduous paths to Ascension, achievable only by a few, were not the true way this was meant to be done. Ascension only worked because the one true god, the solitary and increate Source of All, had made the multiverse in that way. Ascension wasn't godhood--just one a step closer to communion with the godhead. With faith and adherence to moral teaching, anyone could achieve that state--and more--upon death. The "gods" of the Church of Ascension, and the ancient cults, were re-conceived as saints, who were not to be worshipped, but venerated for the lessons they taught man through their life and travails, and the intercession in worldly events they might provide.

Issus is said to have been martyred (though the details of this is one of the church's mysteries) and to have ascended beyond any other. His teaching were popular and spread among the poor and disenfranchised of the Thystaran Empire. The nascent religion was unable to gain a significant foothold within the halls of power, and remains a small cult in its native land to this day.  In the more rural colonies and provinces, the Issian faith proved more popular, particularly as the Empire began to decay. After the Empire's fall, Issianism became the preeminent religion of Western Erida--particularly in Llys and Staark.

The Issian Church is much less hierarchical than the Church of Ascension. Each Issian state had its own autocephalous hierarchy, but all recognized each other. This changed with the diabolic transformation of the Llysan branch of the church. The Issian Church of Llys transplanted to Arn is even less heirarchial with individual church's essentially asserting independence, though they tend to cooperate with each other.

Clerics in the Issian Church are interested in helping the poor and downtrodden as mandated by their belief (particularly those suffering under the yolk of evil (i.e. rebellious) ascended), and in expanding the temporal power of their church, both by proselytizing to the unfaithful, and filling the church coffers with treasure.

Stuck in Medieval with You

I may ramble a bit here as the argument is still forming...

I've been thinking of late about fantasy, both as a literary and rpg genre, and whether there's room for old school-style adventuring outside the bounds of "medieval fantasy."

Obviously, I don't mean the literal, real-world European Middle Ages, but stories with a technology level somewhere between the Iron Age and the Renaissance. Sure, at least on the blogosphere, there's been an emergence of science fantasy, mixing remnant super-science with more primitive technology. Some of these baroque worlds are pretty divergent from real world analogs. There's a definite sort of Heavy Metal dream-logic feel to some, which tosses all sorts of technological assumptions out the window. Still, even in these worlds, one gets the feeling there's a fair number of swords being swung.

I don't think the issue comes down just the firearms, though maybe that's a bigger deal than I'm allowing. Is there any reason dungeon-delving couldn't be accomplished with more "modern" weapons? Would there presence drastically alter the mood?

There's the subgenre of urban fantasy, which may be underrepresented in rpgs, but does exist. Urban fantasy, though, rooted in bringing fantasy to the familiar, doesn't really capture the unknowable aspect that underpins a lot of pulp fantasy. Too much unknown in an urban fantasy setting, and its likely to veer into more of a horror mode.

Then there's fantasy in sort of Victorian-esque settings--what's often called steampunk--a term which really seems to easier to apply as a certain sort of visual aesthetic than literary genre. Some of works often placed in this category, like China Mieville's Bas-Lag stories, and the works of Stephen Hunt take place in full-fledged "secondary worlds," not the usual alternate histories. Mieville's work in particular, could no doubt serve as inspiration for a dungeoneering-based rpg (there are even D&D-style adventurers making an appearance in Perdido Street Station), but is there an rpg work in this direction yet?

Heading across the Atlantic would give us Western (meaning the genre, of course) fantasy. Stephen King's Dark Tower series is even an example of secondary world (epic) Western fantasy, to contrast with the more common alternate history fantasy of, say, Deadlands. There was a d20 supplement or two that grafted elves and dwarves into the Old West, which seems to a surefire way to suck any "unknowability" or "weird" out of the setting with the leech of predictability.

That's been precisely the problem with a lot of fantasy space opera/fantasy-space. We get Dragonstar instead of Starlin's Dreadstar. Really, no works have given us weird space fantasy, or dungeon (asteroid?)-delving space fantasy, as far as I know.

So fantasy with firearms is clearly do-able, but its tougher to find those fantasies combined with a world designed for pulp fantasy--picaresque, secondary world settings, with elements of weird, and the unknown/unknowable. I'm not convinced this can't be done, though.

It seems to me what you need is a setting that is removed enough for our time to have been mythologized a bit, much in the same way that the pre-modern world has been. You could set a dungeon-delving campaign in an alternate 1960s, but then you would get urban fantasy (of a sort) not pulp fantasy. The Old West and Victorian England, are definitely mythologized enough, but probably so are the Roaring Twenties and the Napoleonic era, and others. The future is--ironically--pretty mythologized too, but set things too near-future and you're in urban fantasyland.

While traditional fantasy will always have a preeminent place in my heart, I can't help but think that these other eras can be mined for new settings to expand the vistas of fantasy gaming. I'm not sure adventurers should be confine to a technological level that's largely a historical artifact of the fantasy genre's evolution.

I'm gonna think more about that.

From Here to Eternia

A recent post and discussion over at Spell Card! got me thinking about my love for Masters of the Universe. I don't mean the 80s cartoon with a Captain Marvel in purple tights and a Prince Valiant haircut, a cowardly lion tiger, and a moral for kiddies every episode. I mean the first, more pulpish, post-apocalyptic, sword & sorcery version--before even the 1982 DC comics limited-series. I mean the version appearing in the the four original mini-comics (though these first few were picture books, not comics).

These four were written by Donald Glut, who knew how to adapt Sword & Sorcery material for younger audiences with his comics work, including Dagar the Invincible and Tragg and the Sky Gods for Gold Key. Glut talks about the origins of some of the concepts in an online interview. The evocative art for the four stories was by Alfredo Alcala, a Filipino comic book artist who's worked for DC and Marvel, on books including Conan, and Kull the Conqueror. What the two gave us was darker, moodier, and more streaked with pulpy highlights, than the decidedly brighter, more superhero-esque cartoon to follow.

To illustrate what I mean, let's take a look at the first in the "saga." Here's my commentary on 1981's He-Man and The Power Sword:

We open with a bona fide Hero's Journey "Call to Adventure." He-Man, greatest warrior of his primitve jungle tribe, leaves his people to go defend the legendary Castle Grayskull ("a place of wonders") from the forces of evil. Instead of having a secret identity, He-Man is part of a proud (sometimes) barbaric lineage of Sword & Sorcery characters. He's got a nobler goal than Conan or Brak, but like those forebears he's fascinated by a wondrous elsewhere.

He-Man becomes the first of his people to "trudge the craggy cliffs and quake-torn valleys" outside of the jungle. It's not long before his courage and "jungle-bred stength" is needed. He sights a jade-skinned woman in a cobra headress fighting a purple monster that looks like it might be from a lost in space episode. He-Man rushes into the fray and despite the woman's mystical blasts ("She is a sorceress!" he thought), he pretty much does the monster slaying himself.

Had this not been a kid's book, the shapely Sorceress might have rewarded the warrior other ways, but since it is, He-Man instead gets "Supernatural Aid" (again with the Hero's Journey!). The Sorceress gives him the treasures she's guarded all these years, things made "centuries before the Great War by Eternia's scientists."

Here's one of those cool details. We've got a Great (so great its capitalized) War, and scientists making medieval appearing weapons. "What kind of scientists are those?" one might well wonder. I know 8 year-old me did.

He-Man takes the loot which includes a "strange vehicle" (understatement) that's "combination battering ram, catapult, and space-warp device." Those pre-Great War scientists did some out-of-the-box thinking.

Meanwhile, Skeletor, and his minion Beastman, and ogling the "warrior-goddess" Tee-La (it was hyphenated here) who's watering her "unicorn charger." The two villains attack, as Skeletor plans to make Tee-La his bride. We're told she "fights like a demon, her body possessing the spirits of many ancestral champions," but Skeletor's energy blade wins the day.

They carry her with them to Castle Grayskull--"a fortress so ancient no one knew its origin." Over the objections of the Spirit of the castle, Skeletor forces open the Jaw-Bridge. Skeletor's after the other half of the Power Sword so that "the magic fires, created by ancient scientists and sorcerers will blaze again." Cool.

It turns out Skeletor is from another dimension. The Great War ripped a whole in the walls between dimensions and threw him into Eternia. He plans to open another rift and bring through an army of conquest.

Elsewhere, He-Man is visited by Man-At-Arms. What happens next is weird: "'And what brings the famous Man At Arms to my humble house?' He-Man asked sarcastically." Why all the sarcasm, He-Man? Anyway, Man At Arms ("whose people are the masters of all weapons") fills He-Man in on Skeletor's shenanigans. The two set out to stop him, with impulsive He-Man space-warping ahead.

Somehow, in the bowels of Grayskull (sold separately), Skeletor knows He-Man is coming and sends Beastman up to shoot the turrett laser at at him. Beastman proves surprising effective at this, and has He-Man down when the Man-At-Arms cavalry arrives to turn the tide. The He-Man makes the Jaw-Bridge open wide and the heroes head inside to find Tee-La.

Skeletor's had enough time to get the the Power Sword reunited. As the blade crackles with "green fire" he boasts: "I am invincible. There is nothing I cannot do. Nothing!" The best use this power for is apparently making weapons come to life and fight He-Man.

At that moment, the Sorceress reappears glowing with the same green energy as the power sword (Ah hah!). She chastises Skeletor for abusing power and splits the sword again. He-Man, Man-At-Arms, and the just freed Tee-La throw a beating on the two villains, but let 'em cry "mercy!" and run off (it's a kid's book, remember?). The Sorceress again hides the Power Sword and changes the lock on the castle.

"Do you think that's the last of those two or the Power Sword?" Man-At-Arms asks.

Do I really have to tell you He-Man's answer?

There you go, Great Wars, green Sorcereress, extradimensional portals, barbarian heroes, super-science, and sorcery. How cool is that?

Peoples of Arn: Llysans

To the east, across the sea from Arn, lies the diabolical apostasy of the Kingdom of Llys. Though a former colony of Thystara, and a former bastion of the Issian faith, a cruel and foolish king opened the door for a revolution supported by diablerie, and the rise of a new aristocracy who treat with the denizens of the Hells to support their decadent rule.

Centuries ago, before the fall to infernalism, Llys sought in religious zeal to expand into Arn. Eastern areas of Arn fell under their sway, and crusader fiefdoms were established. Under later, inept monarchs, these fiefdoms gained greater and greater independence. After the revolution, Llys was in no position to reassert control, and in fact, the expatriate Llysan population in Arn was bolstered by refugees. This region continues as a remnant of Llys-that-was within Arn. Later, young Llysans nobles and even veteran commoners came to Arn as filibusters, seeking to reclaim the old territory and conquer new in the name of their dread queen--but mostly for their own enrichment and glory.

The majority of Llysans trace their ancestry to the sharp-featured Deaslith people of Llys and the Old Thystaran Empire it sprang from. Most have dark hair and eyes and pale skin, though many in Llys, and many more in Llysan Arn, show the traits of admixturing with the fairhaired, and often ruddier complected, Ilsdaana peoples.

Llysans have a reputation as aesthetes, and sticklers for concerns of honor and etiquette. They are often stereotyped as vain and supercilious by other ethnic groups of Arn, but also as highly cultured.

MANY LLYSANS (roll 1d20 3 times):
1. Think of themselves as superior to other cultural groups.
2. Proselytize about the glories of Issus the Revelator.
3. Dress in the finest garments they can afford.
4. Take pinches of analeptic zauphur snuff from tiny snuff boxes.
5. Deride those not of the Issian faith as heathens.
6. Have their family coat of arms on their shields or surcoats.
7. Call the Kael "savages."
8. Pray to Issus before battle.
9. Quote Thystaran or Llysan literary works.
10. Defer to their social "betters."
11. Expect their social "inferiors" to defer to them.
12. Use peoples formal titles, and expect the same courtesy.
13. Duel over offenses to their honor.
14. Wear perfume.
15. Fastidiously trim their facial hair (if applicable).
16. Know courtly dances.
17. Prefer wine to beer or liquor.
18. Think all Hazandi are thieves.
19. Claim chastity as a virtue, but don't practice it.
20. Aspire to restore the Issian faith to their homeland.

SOME LLYSANS (roll 1d10 once):
1. Are diabolists--perhaps secretly.
2. Carry folding fans.
3. Are paupers, but live beyond their means.
4. Pretend social rank they don't have.
5. Are the illegitimate child of a noble.
6. Regale companions with the deeds of obscure (perhaps fictional) Issian saints.
7. Have a weapon of quality, which is a family heirloom.
8. Compulsively vow to do various valorous deeds.
9. Carry the favor of a mysterious paramour.
10. Have a lackey or squire.