White Dwarf: Issue #60

Issue #60 of White Dwarf (December 1984) is another issue I remember well, largely because of its Call of Cthulhu scenario, which I rather liked at the time. I also remember finding its installment of "Thrud the Barbarian" – "Thrud Gets Sophisticated" – enjoyable as well, though, in my defense, I was only fifteen at the time and I was easily amused. Ian Livingstone's editorial focuses on the rising price of metal miniatures, which he fears will lead to figures becoming a luxury. He suggests that plastic miniatures might be a solution to this problem – which did, in fact, happen a few years later, the first plastic Citadel minis appearing in 1987 or thereabouts.

"First Issues" by Simon Burley is the first part of a series about superhero roleplaying. As its title suggests, the article deals with what makes a good kick-off adventure for a superhero campaign. For its length (two pages), it offers solid advice and suggestions, along with some examples to illustrate its points. As these kinds of articles go, it's pretty good.

Dave Langford's latest "Critical Mass" column makes a few suggestions of books appropriate as Christmas gifts, some of which are high-priced, hardcover reprints of classic science fiction and fantasy books, often illustrated. Even more than usual, the column is mostly of interest historically rather than being of enduring interest. "Open Box," on the other, held my attention more fully. First up, we're treated to a review of Chaosium's ElfQuest, which its reviewer praises (9 out of 10) as "really the nicest RPG I have seen to give someone as a present." Dungeon Planner 2: Nightmare in Blackmarsh gets a solid 7 out of 10, while the first two Lone Wolf books – Flight from the Dark and Fire on the Water – score the same. Finally, there are reviews of three AD&D modules: The Sentinel (8 out of 10), The Gauntlet (7 out of 10), and Dragons of Despair (8 out of 10). The review of Dragons of Despair is notable for its belief that Tracy Hickman is a woman and its dislike for Clyde Caldwell's cover. 

Part 2 of Graeme Davis's rules for magic item creation, "Eye of Newt and Wing of Bat," appears in this issue, with rods and potions being its subject this time. As I mentioned previously, I love the idea elaborate item creation rules, but most of them, this one included, are simply too fastidious ("The leg muscles of one axebeak. Simmer for 24 hours and stir in one powdered platinum arrow, minimum value 500gp.") to be workable in almost any campaign in which I have played. I don't know; perhaps others' experiences are very different from mine.

"The Bleeding Stone of Iphtah" by Steve Williams with Jon Sutherland is an excellent Call of Cthulhu scenario set in Jerusalem. Professor Foster is an archeologist being mentally manipulated by the Great Race of Yith, who seek to use him to open a gate that would enable them to escape destruction in the ancient past – but at the cost of mankind's survival in the 20th century. Fortunately, Foster is sufficiently strong willed that he is sometimes able, often with the aid of opium, to break free of the Great Race's control, thereby aiding the Investigators in thwarting their plans. Originally a convention adventure, it's short and focused, both of which are blessing in my opinion. I had fun with this in my gaming group of old and still think fondly of it.

"Boarding Actions" by Marcus L. Rowland is a look at the hazards of attempting to seize a starship in a science fiction RPG. Very well done, it's an extended examination of the tactics behind such an endeavor, from the perspective of both the would-be boarder and those who wish to repel them. The issue also includes new episodes of "Gobbledigook," "The Travellers," and "Thrud the Barbarian." Earlier, I alluded to "Thrud Gets Sophisticated," in which writer/artist Carl Critchlow attempts to (unsuccessfully) interject some elegance and urbanity into the adventures of the mighty-threwed barbarian – with predictable results.

Stuart Hunter's "The Fear of Leefield" is an AD&D adventure for characters of levels 3–5. In some ways, it's a fairly typical "rural village" in trouble, as the PCs must contend with mysterious events that are threatening the townsfolk. However, the scenario has an interesting twist in the form of its primary antagonist, a troublemaker who'd been exiled from Leefield in his youth and nursed a grudge against the place of his birth. Now a cleric in service to an evil deity (Bane the Black Lord), he is engineering a situation that will not only enable him to avenge himself upon the village but make him rich as well. 

"Microview" reviews five computer games, three of them produced by Games Workshop. I had completely forgotten that GW was at one time involved in this part of the hobby. "Ars Arcana" by Kiel Stephens continues to provide commentary on AD&D spells, including clever uses for some of them. This series continues to be unexpectedly good and I'm amazed I hadn't recognized it before. "Felines, Fungi and Phantoms" presents four new monsters for Dungeons & Dragons, while "Bits of Fluff" does something similar for RuneQuest. Of the two, "Bits of Fluff" is better – and sillier – in that its monsters play with expectations in a way that a referee might find useful. Take a look and see what I mean:

Concluding the issue is "A Wash and Bush-up" by Gary Chalk and Joe Dever, an article about techniques for color washing miniature figures. As ever, I found the piece fascinating, probably because I was never a very good painter of figures (or indeed of anything else).

All in all, this is a solid issue, though not quite as good as I remember its being. 

Wild, Fanciful, and Often Trippy

I don't think it's much of an exaggeration to suggest that the covers of science fiction and fantasy novels have gotten much less imaginative over the years. By the mid-1980s, the writing was already on the wall and the wild, fanciful, and often trippy covers that simultaneously attracted and frightened me as a kid were on the way out, to be replaced by an endless parade of Michael Whelan, Darrell K. Sweet, and their imitators. This is no knock against Whelan, who's a great artist, but there is a certain predictability to even his best work that I frequently find disappointing. Come to think of it, predictability might well be the defining characteristic of post-1970s SF and fantasy art, itself a reflection of the mainstreaming and commodification of these genres. (Cue my inevitable dig at much of the oeuvre of Larry Elmore.)

Science fiction and fantasy were still (relatively) fringe interests in the 1960s and '70s and the artwork from the period reflects that. Take a look at these three different covers to the paperback releases of Michael Moorcock's The Stealer of Souls, starting with the Lancer edition of 1967:

I have a certain fondness for this cover, because my local public library still had a copy of the book on one of its spinner racks, where I first saw it. Jack Gaughan, best known for his work on the unauthorized US printings of The Lords of the Rings, is the artist of this piece, depicting Elric in battle against the reptilian demon Quaolnargn, summoned by Theleb K'aarna as part of a plan to separate the Melnibonéan from Stormbringer, while the spectral visage of (I assume) Yishana watches. 

The 1968 Mayflower edition took a completely different tack:

Bob Haberfield, who'd go on to do the covers of many more Elric novels, is responsible for this one, which is a terrific example of the kinds of covers I remember well from my youth. Unlike Gaughan's Lancer cover, this one has no obvious connection to anything that occurs in the novelette. That's pretty much par for the course in the late '60s and throughout the 1970s.

Finally, there's another Lancer edition, this time from 1973.

This piece is by Jeff Jones, who had an extensive career as a comics illustrator and I think that shows in the cover. I'm not entirely sure what it depicts, though my guess is that it might be the naval assault on Imrryr from The Dreaming City, with the monster being a Melnibonéan dragon. In any case, it's a very dynamic piece that grabs the attention, which is exactly what the covers of science fiction and fantasy covers used to do. 

Pulp Fantasy Library: The Stealer of Souls

Michael Moorcock's Elric of Melniboné is unquestionably one of the greatest characters in all of fantasy literature. The stories of his exploits exercised a profound influence not just on subsequent writers in the genre but also on the early history of roleplaying games. In particular, the idea of an eternal war between the powers of Law and Chaos – cribbed from Poul Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions, by Moorcock's own admission – is one without which Dungeons & Dragons, RuneQuest, and Warhammer Fantasy Role-Play, to cite just three prominent examples, would be impossible. 

Yet, for all the cosmic elements of the saga of Elric, what makes its tales compelling are the personal struggles of its protagonist, as he attempts to square the demands of his conscience with those of the soul-hungry demon sword whose magic enables him to overcome the physical impairments of his birth. In this respect, the stories of Elric are very much in keeping with those of his pulp fantasy forebears, including Robert E. Howard's Conan, whose own adventures often stem from clashes between his convictions and the vicissitudes of life. Though Elric and Conan could not be more different – intentionally so – in this important respect there is a remarkable similarity.

I was reminded of this when re-reading The Stealer of Souls, the third of Moorcock's original Elric novelettes. Originally published in the February 1962 issue of Science Fantasy, it was published as a separate volume less than a year later by UK publisher, Neville Spearman. The Stealer of Souls is, first and foremost, a story of revenge and, in that respect, it could have featured Conan as its protagonist – except, of course, that Elric, unlike REH's barbarian, depends upon and wields dark magic to achieve his desired ends. Indeed, dark magic plays a significant role in the tale's events, which is part of why it's one of my favorite stories of Elric.

Another reason is that Moorcock's prose is delightfully pulpy and evocative throughout. Consider, for example, the start of the novelette:

In a city called Bakshaan, which was rich enough to make all other cities of the north-east seem poor, in a tall-towered tavern one night, Elric, Lord of the smoking ruins of Melniboné, smiled like a shark and dryly jested with four powerful merchant princes whom, in a day or so, he intended to pauperize. 

It's wonderful stuff, all the more so because Elric is much more immediately active in this adventure than he was in his previous outings. That lends a certain energy, even urgency, to The Stealer of Souls that I find quite attractive.

The merchant princes wish to hire Elric for his "particular qualities as a swordsman and sorcerer" and are willing to pay well for them. They offer him gold and gems for his services, but he rejects them, calling them "chains," adding that "free travelers need no chains." Elric says he decide on the nature of his payment later, which arouses some suspicion in his would-be employers, but they are sufficiently keen to enlist his aid that they let the matter rest.

The merchants explain that they wish Elric to eliminate a competitor of theirs, a man named Nikorn of Ilmar. Nikorn, it seems, is able to undercut all other merchants of Bakshaan. This impresses Elric, who states that, from what they have described of him, "[Nikorn] has earned his position." Why should he wish to kill him? Moreover, why not simply employ an assassin? They are commonplace in Bakshaan, after all. This is where the merchants come to the real crux of the matter – and of their need for Elric.

"... Nikorn employs a sorcerer – and a private army. The sorcerer protects him and his palace by means of magic. And a guard of desert men serve to ensure that if the magic fails, then natural methods can be used for the purpose. Assassins have attempted to eliminate the trader, but unfortunately, they were not lucky."

After briefly pausing to drink "a wine for those who wished to dream of different and less tangible worlds," Elric asks

"And who is this mighty sorcerer, Master Pilarmo?"

"His name is Theleb K'aarna," Pilarmo answered nervously.

Elric's scarlet eyes narrowed. "The sorcerer of Pan Tang?"

"Aye – he comes from that island."

Elric put his cup down upon the table and rise, fingering his blade of black iron, the runesword Stormbringer.

He said with conviction: "I will help you, gentlemen." He had made up his mind not to rob them, after all. A new and more important plan was forming in his brain.

Theleb K'aarna, he thought. So you have made Bakshaaan your bolt-hole, eh? 

Theleb K'aarna, we learn, is not only a sorcerer of Pan Tang, but an enemy of Elric, in large part because Elric had previously displaced him in the affections of Yishana, the queen of Jharkor. Now, he seeks to "prove" to Yishana, whom he still loves, that Elric is not worthy of her esteem by bringing him low. Elric, for his part, has been pursuing Theleb K'aarna across the Young Kingdoms for some time and sees the merchant princes' offer as an opportunity to best the Pan Tangian once again. 

Naturally, there's more to The Stealer of Souls than the tale of two men seeking vengeance upon one another, but revenge is its through-line, as well as its overarching theme. Along the way, though, the reader is treated to several magnificent displays of sorcery, including a battle between two elementals summoned by Elric and Theleb K'aarna. Elric must also deal with the aftermath of the downfall of Melniboné that he effected in The Dreaming City and that, too, adds to the personal stakes of the story's events. All in all, it's a fast-moving and character-driven narrative that, I think, shows Moorcock at his best.

Abstract Movement

Traveller is a very old roleplaying game, first appearing in the summer of 1977. As one might expect, the influence of Dungeons & Dragons – and the miniatures wargames out of which it grew – is evident. At the same time, Traveller is not merely "OD&D in space." Its design is not simply distinct from that of OD&D, but genuinely original and indeed innovative. I frequently marvel at how much better put together Traveller is than OD&D, despite only a three-year gap between their publication dates. Clearly, Marc Miller had learned a lot from his predecessors in the hobby.

One area of innovation that stands out in my mind is how Traveller handles combat movement. The game makes use of a lined grid of "bands," each one representing relative distance. Characters can walk between one band and another per combat round or run between two during the same time period. While the rules suggest that those interested in greater detail could make use of a square or hex map to track precise positions, the combat rules are presented with abstract range bands in mind. In play, I never had any trouble with range bands. In fact, I found they worked very well, especially in circumstances where we weren't making use of counters or miniatures on a map, which was most of the time. 

I started thinking about this as I continued work on the Secrets of sha-Arthan rules. At base, this will be a very D&D-like game and that's intentional. The setting is sufficiently strange that I don't want any potential players to get hung up on its rules. Plus, the rules of D&D work well and I see little point in reinventing the wheel. However – there's always a "however" – I have long found the movement rules of every edition unnecessarily fiddly. They're among the first rules that fall by the wayside when I am refereeing, especially if I'm playing online.

Consequently, I'm pondering the introduction of something akin to Traveller's range bands, albeit modified to take into account the peculiarities of dungeoncrawling, something with which Traveller rarely has to contend. Nevertheless, I hesitate. Such is the weight of hoary tradition, I suppose. Somehow, the idea of a D&D-like game that lacks detailed and specific movement rules feels wrong, as I know all too well that I'll almost certainly never use them as written.

I'd be very curious to hear others' thoughts on this, specifically those who have experience with using abstract movement systems in play. I feel increasingly strongly that the Secrets of sha-Arthan rules should better reflect the way I prefer to referee games, hence my consideration of a different approach to movement. Yet, I recognize that not everyone has the same playstyle I do and thus would prefer a system that is flexible enough to accommodate multiple styles. In any case, I'd like to hear your thoughts. If nothing else, they'll provide me with additional inputs as I ponder the matter for myself.

Thanks in advance.

REVIEW: Mörk Borg GM Screen

As I have mentioned before, I haven't made regular use of a referee's screen in many, many years. In my youth, it was more or less expected that the referee would have and use a screen, behind which he'd keep his maps – and dice rolls – hidden from the prying eyes of the players. Consequently, I used to own screens for RPGs I played regularly, assuming they had them, of course, as Gamma World did. Back then, I simply saw screens as part of the referee's "kit" and that was that.

At some point, my feelings on the matter changed. There was no single reason why they did, but an important one was the unwieldiness of most referee's screens. To use them effectively, one generally has to have a large, flat surface, usually a table, available for use. This wasn't always practical during my university and grad school days and so I largely abandoned my prior attachment to referee's screens. In recent years, I've been refereeing online a great deal; the idea of setting up a screen for these games seems positively laughable.

Despite all that, I not only own but think rather highly of the Mörk Borg GM Screen. Simply as a physical artifact, it's quite impressive. Consisting of five A5 panels, it's made of very sturdy material; there's no question in mind that it's far more durable than almost every other screen I've ever examined. Because of its size, it's also compact, meaning that, even unfolded, it takes up far less space on the table than the screens I was familiar with from my youth. That's important to me, given my eventual feelings about the practicality of using screens. 

The screen's player-facing side features moody illustrations in black, white, red, and gold by Johan Nohr, who also provided the artwork for the Mörk Borg rulebook. To be honest, I think many of these illustrations are even better than those in the rulebook, being somewhat more subdued in both content and presentation. I think they do a good job of demonstrating that a more restrained, even sober, version of Mörk Borg's doom metal fantasy is not only possible but completely in keeping with its spirit. Of course, the interior, GM-facing side of the screen is the usual riotous yellow, with black text and white highlights, that is Mörk Borg's visual calling card. Much as I appreciate the more muted artwork of the player side of the screen, I would have been slightly disappointed if my eyes weren't assaulted by garish color contrasts as well. 

Because Mörk Borg's rules are few, the interior of the screen is able to include most of them for reference. The game was already simple enough that the GM could more or less run a game session without the need to flip through the rulebook, but the screen makes it that much easier. Not only are there the usual charts for combat, equipment, and magic, there are also the statistics of common NPCs and multiple random tables covering everything from the weather to city events to traps. Some of these tables are printed on sheets of cardstock that can be swapped in or out of the screen, thanks to plastic holders at the corners of the first and last panels of the screen. The GM could use them to hold other appropriately sized sheets – like maps – further increasing the utility of the screen.

No referee screen is a must have and the Mörk Borg GM Screen is no different in this regard. At the same time, this one is durable, attractive, and practical, making it one of the best examples of its kind I've ever owned. If you're refereeing the game regularly, I think you'll quickly find there's genuine benefit to having it,

Sir Pellinore's Advice to Referees

Here's what Sir Pellinore's Book has to say about how to referee, reproduced without any changes. I think it does a good job of showing the overall flavor of the book. 

To start the game you must at least make a town for the adventurers to start in. You can add the world outside the town, kingdoms, orc tribes, wandering monsters, elves, magic places, shrines, treasures, monsters, thieves and all kinds of other adventures for the other players to find. 

In your world don't make it impossible to survive. Since you must tell the other players what's happening and what effects their actions have you are their eyes and ears. Give them all the information you can.

Don't be too generous or it takes the fun of the struggle out of the game.

Don't be too stingy or no one will want to play.

Let the players do what they want unless it is impossible. After all, it's their neck.

Try to be realistic. Read up on the middle ages so you'll get a good idea of how things went then.

Don't make your world too civilized. If there's no monsters around to fight the players will take to robbery to make life interesting.

When you create your area, start by making a map of the area with graphpaper at a scale of 5–10 miles to a square. Then make maps of a larger scale of areas that should be more detailed, like castiles towns etc. Fill in all the smaller details with your imagination when a player comes to them.

Any rules for anything that is not here feel free to make them up. But, remember, because there are no winners or losers don't feel you have to destroy the other players. Everyone can be a winner! So be just and fair!

The Dangers of Libraries

One of the things I've always loved about Call of Cthulhu is that an Investigator's most potent weapon in the battle against the forces of the Mythos is often his Library Use skill. Of course, libraries aren't without their own dangers, as anyone who's ever stumbled across a copy of Das Buch von den unaussprechlichen Kulten while perusing the stacks of the Bibliotheca Albertina can tell you.

And then there's the ever-present danger of the Formless Spawn of Tsathoggua, as this advertisement from White Dwarf #59 helpfully reminds us ....

Sir Pellinore's Book

A few weeks ago, a regular correspondent of mine, who often sends me pointers toward forgotten bits of RPG history, alerted me to the existence of Sir Pellinore's Book of Rules for a Game of Magical Mideval [sic] Adventures, a 1978 amateur publication by Michael Brines of Prescott, Arizona. 

As you can probably tell just by looking at the cover to the left, I'm not kidding when I call this an "amateur publication." Sir Pellinore's Book is the raw, unpolished work of a fan, replete with misspellings, grammatical errors, occasionally unclear text, and little illustrations (presumably by Brines). It's also a charming window on the early days of the hobby and, for that reason alone, of great interest to me and anyone else who has an interest in such matters.

Consisting of twenty typewritten pages, Sir Pellinore's Book is quite clearly a variant of Original Dungeons & Dragons, though even a cursory examination of it reveals that it is quite variant in places. For instance, there are ostensibly three classes of characters, just as in OD&D. These classes are wizards, fighting men, and "others," the latter consisting of "priests, merchants, etc." Likewise, Wisdom is replaced with Luck, which is used to calculate most of a character's saving throws (25 – Luck score + level = target on "two dice," presumably 2d6, though it's never specified). At the referee's discretion, other ability scores might be substituted for Luck, such as Dexterity for falls and Constitution for resisting poison. 

Nearly every rule in OD&D is given some alteration or tweak, from combat to experience points to spells. The result is something that feels at once familiar and strange. It's difficult to tell whether Brines was inspired by other early RPGs – his use of Luck reminds me of Tunnels & Trolls and his percentile-based combat reminds me of RuneQuest, to cite two examples – or whether his ideas simply ran parallel to those of other games at the time. The early days of the hobby were one of reckless enthusiasm and cross-pollination, so this may not be an either/or situation. In any case, the end result is something that feels genuinely distinctive and reflects the sensibilities and tastes of its creator, something of which I've always been quite supportive.

I had intended to write a post about Sir Pellinore's Book when I was first told about it, but it slipped my mind, as too many things seem to do these days. Fortunately, another correspondent informed me that Precis Intermedia has made it available in electronic form both through its own site and through DriveThruRPG. There are apparently plans to make it available in print as well, in case that's your preference. If you're at all interested in the roots of the hobby, it's well worth a look. Plus, it has a spell called "Banana Peel;" you can't go wrong with that. 

Retrospective: Alien Module 4: Zhodani

A good villain is hard to find.

In the Third Imperium setting of GDW's Traveller, that vital role is played by the Zhodani, humans transplanted to another world by the mysterious Ancients some 300,000 years before the founding of the Imperium. On their new homeworld of Zhdant (or Zhodane, as the Imperium calls it), the Zhodani developed a unique culture and society, one characterized first and foremost by its open embrace of psionics, a practice the Imperium and its subjects consider morally, not to mention politically, abhorrent. Needless to say, this profound difference has fostered mutual suspicion and animosity between the two peoples and has led to five Frontier Wars. 

Alien Module 4: The Zhodani aims to lift the lid on Zhodani society, providing the reader with a clearer and indeed more sympathetic portrayal of "the Psionic Masters" than had previous Traveller materials. By the time of its publication in 1985, the Zhodani were already a well-established facet of the Third Imperium setting, having first been mentioned in The Spinward Marches in 1978 as practitioners of "the Psionic Heresy." Until the early 1980s, when an article about them appeared in the pages of The Journal of the Travellers' Aid Society, the Zhodani were little more than mustache-twirling space opera villains of a somewhat Orientalist cast – the Sassanid Persians to the Imperium's late Romans. 

With the arrival of further information on the Zhodani came a more nuanced portrayal. Alien Module 4 is the culmination of that process and it's a generally excellent bit of science fictional speculation. Like previous Alien Modules, this one starts with information on the physical characteristics of the Zhodani homeworld and its solar system. Much more detail is given to the history of the Zhodani, including how they first discovered psionic abilities and the impact it had on their society. In short, the Zhodani learned that some humans are naturally gifted in these abilities and from them arose a noble caste. Those who are not naturally gifted in psionics but who, with training, could become so form the intendant caste. Those who lack psionic abilities form the prole caste. The interstellar state they eventually formed, the Zhodani Consulate, is a democracy with a franchise limited to psionically gifted nobles, making it an interesting mirror image to the feudal aristocracy of its rival, the Third Imperium.

Where Alien Module 4 really shines is in its treatment of Zhodani society and the impact that psionics has had on it. Compared to Imperial humans, the Zhodani is much more peaceable and conformist, in part due to the regular use of telepathy and other abilities to detect "deviant" thoughts and behavior before they become a problem. This is where the infamous – to Imperials anyway – Thought Police have a role. The Zhodani view the Tavrchedl' (or "Guardians of Our Morality") not as policemen but as firemen, whose job is to deal with depression, frustration, and disillusionment among the populace. That the Zhodani have developed advanced means, both medicinal and psionic, to deal with these conditions only makes the Thought Police even more effective.

All the Alien Modules strive to give their subjects their due, presenting them and their societies and cultures from their own perspective. This is very much in evidence in this one's treatment of the Zhodani. Though building on information presented in early '80s Traveller material, Alien Module 4 goes a very long way toward presenting the Zhodani not as stock villains but as solid antagonists with their own plausible point of view, given their starting premises. It does such a good job at this that, when I first read the module, I was somewhat taken aback. I'd spent several years seeing the Zhodani in one way – the Imperial perspective – that I never considered the possibility that there might be another legitimate portrayal of them.

Sympathetic though it may be, Alien Module 4 nevertheless paints a picture of a profoundly alien society, all the more so, I think, because it's peopled by human beings that are physiologically little different from us. The ubiquity of psionics and its effect on Zhodani society cannot be understated. The Zhodani, for example, have little concept of privacy and tend to view Imperial humans as inherently dishonest simply because they will not submit to routine telepathic scans. From their perspective, only someone with something to hide would be worried about such a thing. Likewise, their caste society, based on one's natural mental powers, runs counter to the reader's likely preference for some kind of social egalitarianism (even if the Imperium itself falls short of that ideal as well).

Alien Module 4: Zhodani is thus an excellent supplement for use with Traveller, one that not only provides insight into the Imperium's main enemies but also gives players and referees alike the ability to create and play Zhodani characters. I'm not sure how many people have ever attempted, let alone succeeded, at a Zhodani-focused Traveller campaign, but I doubt it would be very many. Still, the benefit of being able to understand better these antagonists is immense and the Third Imperium setting is richer and more believable because of it. 

Navy War Bonds

Another fun example of White Dwarf's postal humor, this time with a Traveller theme.