Pulp Fantasy Library: Witch of the Demon Seas

When I was a kid, I never much bothered by the fact that Iron Man (whose superpowers were technological in origin) could fight side by side with Thor (whose superpowers were alien-science-appearing-as-magic in origin) and Dr. Strange (whose superpowers were purely magical in origin) to fight against Dr. Doom (who wielded both advanced technology and magic). So long as the story involving these four characters was compelling to me, what difference did it make?

As I got older, I became much more hung up over "genre" distinctions, due to the dual influences of some of the older gamers I knew and, more insidiously, English teachers. From that point on, I became a lot more dismissive of entertainments that didn't share my new fastidiousness toward keeping fantasy chocolate out of my science fiction peanut butter (or mixing any other two genres, for that matter). Older still, I find myself caring less and less about such literary miscegenation. Indeed, I find myself reveling in it, which is why, for example, the setting of my Dwimmermount dungeon includes lots of elements my younger self would almost certainly have abhorred.

I bring this all up because of the history behind today's pulp fantasy story, "Witch of the Demon Seas." Written by Poul Anderson using the pseudonym A.A. Craig (because he already had another story under his own name in the same issue), it was published in January 1951 issue of Planet Stories. Planet Stories, as you may know, was a pulp magazine that ran from 1939 to 1955 and whose stories were devoted to "planetary adventure." This category could include space opera or sword-and-planet yarns but it could not include "straight" fantasy. Consequently, Anderson's tale was given the thin veneer of being a science fantasy tale set on a far away planet so that it might be salable at a time when pulp magazines of any sort were drying up faster than the seas of Barsoom.

That said, "Witch of the Demon Seas" is not lessened because of Anderson's willingness to make a few fleeting references that pleased the editors at Planet Stories. The story opens with Khroman the Conqueror, thalassocrat of Achaera, pondering what to do with the pirates he has just captured, in particular one named Corun, whom Khroivian respects after a fashion.

"What will you do with them, sire?" asked Shorzon the Sorcerer.

Khroman shrugged heavy shoulders. "I don't know. Pirates are, usually fed to the erinyes at the games, I suppose, but Corun deserves something special."

"Public torture, perhaps, sire? It could be stretched over many days."

"No, you fool! Corun was the bravest enemy Achaera ever had. He deserves an honorable death and a decent tomb ..."

While still a prisoner awaiting execution, Shorzon and his daughter Chryseis -- the wife of Khroman -- visit Corun and make him an offer.  His voice shook:

"What do you want?"

"Your help in a desperate venture," said Chryseis. "I tell you frankly that we may well all die in it. But at least you will die as a free man—and if we succeed, all the world may be ours."

"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.

"I cannot tell you everything now," said Shorzon. "But the story has long been current that you once sailed to the lairs of the Xanthi, the Sea Demons, and returned alive. Is it true?"

"Aye." Corun stiffened, with sudden alarm trembling in his nerves. "Aye, by great good luck I came back. But they are not a race for humans to traffic with."

"I think the powers I can summon will match theirs," said Shorzon. "We want you to guide us to their dwellings and teach us the language on the way, as well as whatever else you know about them. When we return, you may go where you choose. And if we get their help, we will be able to set Conahur free soon afterward."

Corun shook his head. "It's nothing good that you plan," he said slowly. "No one would approach the Xanthi for any good purpose."

"You did, didn't you?" chuckled the wizard dryly. "If you want the truth, we are after their help in seizing the government of Achaera, as well as certain knowledge they have."

If Corun agrees to help the father and daughter, since they promise him not only his own freedom but the liberation of his homeland, currently subjugated by the Achaerans. Like any good barbarian, Corun is suspicious of his supposed benefactors but is also unwilling to let a chance like this slip through his fingers, thinking it better to die a free man engaged in a desperate adventure than executed as a prisoner.

What follows is a very enjoyable story well told, one that feels more like Robert E. Howard than Poul Anderson, filled as it is with swashbuckling combats, duplicitous alliances, and eldritch horrors. On the other hand, Anderson has always been good at producing interesting and believable characters, even when those characters are very "archetypal" as those in this story are. The same is true of the plot, which manages to be genuinely surprising at times, despite the clichéd nature of its set-up. "Witch of the Demon Seas" is thus a good example of the kind of pulp fantasy tale --  fun, fast-moving, and engaging -- I like to read.

Open Friday: Awesome Homebrews

One of the best things about the old school renaissance is its diversity: there are a huge number of folks out there doing all sorts of weird and wonderful stuff in their home campaigns. Precisely because there are so many, it's pretty much impossible to keep track of them all. That's why I'm making it a point today to direct your attention to a handful of people who've done awesome work in either presenting material from their homebrew setting or rules hacks they've made (or both). That they have all taken their games in such different direction is, to me, a feature rather than a bug (to borrow an overused phrase).

A lot of this stuff isn't what I would do, but, then, that's the point. Gaming awesomeness comes in a variety of forms and I want to highlight a few terrific examples of it. In the comments below, feel free to include links to examples of what you think are great presentations of homebrew setting information and/or houserules.

In Places Deep: Evan Elkins uses his blog to present not one but three different campaign settings -- Cuccagna ("The Tempest as written by Jack Vance"), The Dark Country (a Hammer Horror-inspired setting and home to Nightwick Abbey, "the Amityville Horror of megadungeons"), and Uz (a science fantasy in Earth's far future)

Legacy of the Bieth: Humza Kazmi has come up with a setting that combines a vaguely Abbasid/Almoravid era North Africa with the feel of a spaghetti western. If that's not one of the more awesome campaign pitches I've ever heard, I don't know what is.

Mutants and Magic: Paul Schaefer's Gamma Red Death World is set on Earth in the late 19th century after an alien invasion. This is a fairly new setting, so it's still being detailed, but I really like what I've seen so far.

People them with Monsters: Jeremy Deram presents Outland, which he describes as a "semi-gonzo kitchen sink setting." Outland was originally a D&D setting but has since migrated over to Dungeon Crawl Classics Roleplaying Game. You can see Jeremy's house rules on the site, as well as his excellent DCC RPG resources.

Tales of the Grotesque and Dungeonesque: Jack Shear's The World Between Setting is a Gothic fantasy that borrows from literature, folklore, fantasy, and horror. It's one of my favorite homebrew settings these days and strikes me as what Ravenloft could have/should have been.

The Wisdom Frog Croaks: Reynaldo Madrinan presents his Barovania setting, which, as you might guess from its name, is Ravenloft crossed with Japanese video games. It's not quite my cup of tea, but there's no denying that it's quite imaginative. Plus, I suspect my 12 year-old daughter would love it.

Untimately: Brendan S presents his Pahvelorn setting, as well as heaps of amazing OD&D rules variants and extremely useful resources, such as OD&D equipment post from this past summer.

Wampus Country: Describing Erik Jensen's Wampus Country setting is difficult, but if you were to think "D&D crossed with Oregon Trail," with lots of fairy tale stuff thrown in, you wouldn't be too far off.

I have lots more links like these to share and I will in future posts, but, as I said above, I'd like you to do the same in the comments below. Share links to the awesome old school homebrew settings and rules you've encountered on the web!

Memories of the British Old School

Recently, I posted news of the release of a second edition of the British old school RPG, Heroes. Though I've long known of the existence of the original Heroes game (published in 1979), I've never actually seen a copy. Reader Andy Staples, who has a blog of his own here, sent along a photo, pictured above, which shows what the original edition looked like, including the hexmap of its setting, the Oesterlands.

Andy also sent along some memories not just of Heroes but of what gaming was like on the other side of the Atlantic in the late 70s and early 80s. With his permission, I've posted his memories below, both because I think they're interesting in their own right and because they provide another perspective on the history of our hobby:

The book itself is typed and mimeographed or photocopied, staple-bound with some awful art. The whole thing - production, erratic rules, bad art - reminds me very much of Arduin Grimoire, and it's obvious that the thing was a labour of love. And I've kept my copy for very many years.

On our side of the Pond, there seemed to be a very ersatz approach to gaming in those days around '80, '81, even a couple of years later. Most of the games we had were American ones, with relatively high production values, but the homegrown games - and the homegrown approach - were much more humble. The barrier to enjoying, and even publishing, your games seemed to be more one of passion and dedication than money.

The move of my friends and I into roleplaying was a natural progression from the pen-and-paper puzzle or challenge games we played in the back of class at school. Noughts and crosses (tic-tac-toe to Americans), boxes (a kind of primitive version of go), battleships (a schoolboy pen and paper game long before the American commercial version) and a game we just called War - drawing a coastline, placing guns, and flicking your pencil across the paper to see if the lin it made hit one of your opponents guns - it occupied us on rainy days or boring classes. We did this for a couple of years.

Eventually we came up with a game we called Mazes. As far as I know, this was an original development by us. You drew a maze and someone had to navigate their way through it. Then we added traps. Then an item you could pick up to avoid a trap - you could get past the fire if you had a fire extinguisher, for example. Then monsters: we used Daleks. If you'd found the machine gun, you could kill the Dalek before it got you, and your exploration continued.

Each of us drew mazes, and each friend in the group (there were about hald a dozen of us) would attempt to beat each maze. They got bigger and more complex.

Then came the summer holidays, and one of the gang came back in the Michaelmas (autumn) term with a game he pitched as "Mazes, but better". It was the Holmes edition of D&D. And it was Mazes, but it involved dice, and characters with different abilities, and monsters that were thought or weaker than other monsters. I was hooked. We all were. I knew what I wanted for my next birthday, and I got it: a copy of the rules for my own. It was Moldvay by that time. This was late 1981; it was my 13th birthday.

But fantasy didn't scratch all my itches. I wanted science fiction. No problem. I sat down to write a science fiction version - horribly, horribly plagiaristic, of course. Level-based pilots, fighters, space pirates and the like, all written up in the nicest roundhand I could muster in a fresh exercise book. I even changed my handwriting to make it look more professional. Before I finished writing up my awesome science fiction game, Christmas came, and in my local Woolworths (remember those days when chain and department shops made sure they had some roleplaying games in stock), I found an unpreposeessing little black box with something about the Free Trader Beowulf. I bought it and gave up my plans to be a game designer.

Within a year we'd been invited through one of the group to join a local wargaming group. These were working men (bluecollars, I think you'd call them) with a passion. We were tolerated there, I think. They really wanted to get us into a real hobby, and we were encouraged to play wargames with them. I enoyed the few games I played; a couple of our group loved them and became wargamers - a passion fuelled further when the first edition of Warhammer came out.

Wargamers seemed to have an even more ersatz approach to rules and games than we did. There were three or four men who enjoyed a game of Ace of Aces (in 3D, fixing biplane models to chemistry clamps), but almost all the rest of the wargames used homegrown club rules, which used a playing card resolution system. The rules - often very detailed - were handwritten and photocopied and passed around. I hope that in a folder somewhere I still have a copy of the medieval variant.

That's the kind of environment that games like Heroes and Laserburn developed in. Maybe it was similar in those first prints of Chainmail and OD&D. I don't know. If that's the case then we seem to have been several years behind the US in terms of professionalism - except for Games Workshop. By that time, White Dwarf was most definitely a prozine, and they carried the UK printings of Traveller and Runequest.

I find this all very fascinating, since it's at once similar and different from my own formative experiences, particularly with regards to wargaming, which I never really got into, even though I knew a lot of guys who did.

Thanks for sharing this, Andy!

Retrospective: The Book of Marvelous Magic

I have long had a love/hate relationship with The Book of Marvelous Magic. When it was released in 1985, I gleefully purchased it -- despite its being for "kiddie D&D" -- because it carried Gary Gygax's name on the front cover. I was, at the time, a rabid Gygaxian fanboy and the mere presence of his name was enough for me buy products sight unseen, as well as to look more kindly on them than I probably ought to have. A lot of Gary's late TSR output is  of a very different character than the stuff he wrote in earlier days. Some people like it; some don't. Even as a callow youth I recognized this, but I lacked the gumption to admit to myself that I was among the latter group. The end result was that I ended up with a lot of Gygax-penned products I wasn't really happy with.

Of course, The Book of Marvelous Magic wasn't just written by Gary Gygax. He shares the cover byline with Frank Mentzer and the dedication (written by Mentzer) thanks a large number of people "for their contributions," among them Mark Acres, David Cook, Tracy Hickman, Doug Niles, Penny Petticord, John Pickens, Gali Sanchez, Carl Smith, Garry Spiegle, and Skip Williams. Who contributed what is never delineated in the book, but my suspicion is that Mentzer wrote the bulk of the book, using his own ideas and those offered to him by others, including Gygax. Gary's name is on the cover precisely because, even in 1985, it was still a draw to players like me, even though his contributions were probably minimal (more knowledgeable souls can correct me if I am mistaken).

The Book of Marvelous Magic is a 80-page softcover book that details over 500 new magic items for use with Dungeons & Dragons (and AD&D -- more on that in a bit). These items are broken up into fourteen categories: amusements, animal-related items, apparel, cloth and related items, containers, foodstuffs, furniture, household items, jewelry and valuables, music instruments, oddities, paper and related items, tools and hardware, and travel items. Each of these categories has one or more percentile tables associated with it, to aid the referee in randomly rolling treasure. D&D magic items from the rulebooks are also included on these tables, which is nice.

The items presented in this book would qualify as "miscellaneous magic items" and are a mixed bag. Some are extraordinarily mundane, while others are bizarre. Some have punnish or esoteric names (both suggesting Gygaxian involvement). The vast majority, though, are interesting enough, if only in that they're new. One of the problems of playing D&D with long-time players is that it's hard for them to get excited about a bag of holding or gauntlets of ogre power anymore, since, to them, they're "standard" parts of the game. Having a larger pool of magic items to draw upon is thus always a good thing and I suspect a big part of the appeal of books like Unearthed Arcana to many gamers.

Over the years, my opinion of The Book of Marvelous Magic has been inconstant. After my initial excitement, I felt deflated, in large part because so many of the book's items simply reproduce the effects of a spell or class/race ability, while others are merely magical replacements for technology. Later, I came to appreciate the variety it offered, even if many of its offerings are less than inspired. Nowadays, I look on it more kindly, seeing it primarily as a fount of ideas from which I can steal -- and steal from it I have.

The book concludes with an appendix, where rules and guidelines are given for using it with AD&D. Re-reading it today is interesting.

The D&D and AD&D games are actually different games. Though both are role-playing games dealing with fantasy topics, many of the games' systems are entirely different. Each game contains spells, monsters, and other elements not found in the other.

The D&D game is easy to modify to your individual taste. When revised and expanded (editions published in or after 1983), some details were added, but the game as a whole actually became easier to modify. You may add more details, or change existing ones, with little fear of upsetting the game system as a whole. Options are often mentioned, giving the DM a choice of styles or details. For example, a monster's poison can be deadly, but guidelines are given for the DM who wants to change this to points of damage (or other effects) to make the game more enjoyable.

The AD&D game system is, as a whole, far more complex than the D&D game. Rules are given for more situations, and common situations are presented in more detail. Since the AD&D game is more complex than the D&D game, it is very difficult to modify properly. Any rule change may have far-reaching effects. Modifications usually involve very minor details, and rarely (if ever) change general principles. Additions must be compatible with existing details, and must thus be very carefully considered.

Back in 1985, I'd have seen this section as a vindication of my preference for AD&D over D&D, whereas nowadays, it's just the opposite.

Ares Magazine: Issue #17

Last week, I erroneously proclaimed issue #16 of Ares to have been its last, since I'd never seen an issue beyond that one. Thanks to a kind reader, I now have, along with the two "special editions" TSR also produced during its time publishing the magazine. So, in the interests of completeness, I'll be looking at these three remaining issues over the coming weeks before bidding adieu to Ares. Afterwards, I'll start up a new series, focusing on the TSR UK periodical, Imagine.

Issue #17 is not dated. Instead, it's called simply "Final Issue," though, since issue #16 is listed as "Winter 1983" and the first installment of "the Ares Section" in Dragon is April 1984, it's safe to assume that it appeared sometime between January and April 1984. The cover art is by Mitchell O'Connell, whose artwork I so strongly associate with Pacesetter's Star Ace RPG. The interior layout of the issue looks even more like what we'd eventually see in the pages of Dragon, which only makes sense. For me, seeing it in a full-length magazine is somewhat thrilling, given my fondness for the Ares Section and my wish back in the day that Dragon expanded its coverage of science fiction even further.

The issue begins with an editorial explaining why Ares is ceasing publication:

Production costs (in terms of time, energy, and money), compared to the actual readership, were major factors; the circulation was not high enough to justify the workload in making it go.

This is hardly surprising, given the relative unpopularity of science fiction compared to fantasy in the gaming world. Likewise, the handling of TSR's takeover of SPI, while not done maliciously, was bungled, alienating a great many of the people who might otherwise have supported Ares. At the same time, I do think TSR genuinely tried to make Ares successful, even if some of the changes they made probably also alienated some of its existing subscriber base.

In terms of actual content, issue #17 includes an article called "Of Writers, Editors, and Horror Stories" by David J. Schow, in which he talks about his experiences as freelance writer. It's a fine piece for what it is, though it's an odd one to include in the final issue of Ares. Meanwhile, James M. Ward provides "Fun Among the Mutants," which discusses games and pastimes of the cryptic alliances of Gamma World. "Sword in the Dirt" is a bit of short fiction by Henry Melton, while Steve Winter's "Pancake Alley" provides guidelines for rally racing in Car Wars. "A Friendly Game of Hoople" is a second -- and lengthier -- piece of fiction (by Timothy Robert Sullivan).

The significant portion of issue #17 is taken up by "Mongoose & Cobra," an adventure for Universe written by Nick Karp. The adventure takes place in the Chara system, on the planet Gardenia, which has recently been menaced by space pirate attacks, which the characters are hired to deal with. For its length, I can't say I found "Mongoose & Cobra" particularly inspiring. Like so much material for Universe, there are a lot of good ideas here but they're presented in the driest, most unexciting way possible. William Tracy offers "The Zamra," which describes a racial weapon of the Yazirians from Star Frontiers. Carl Smith pens "Fire at Will!," which describes methods of using miniatures to play Knight Hawks. Marvant Duhon's "The Federation Strikes Back!" is an expansion to Universe's starship construction and combat rules.

"Sword and Sorcery in Supergame" is an odd article. Written by Jay Hartlove, it provides rules and advice on adapting Supergame to the fantasy genre. Supergame is apparently a superhero RPG, but I've never heard of it. I find it difficult to imagine that it had a very wide currency in 1984 either, so its inclusion here suggests that Ares had difficulty finding articles to publish in its pages. Rounding out the issue are a number of reviews of both books and games. Not included this time around is an integral game/simulation, making issue #17 different than all of its predecessors. I suspect that the cost a lot of the cost prohibitions that spelled the end of Ares stemmed from its integral games, so it's hardly a surprise to see it missing.

The story of Ares magazine becomes more interesting with each issue I read. It's quite clear that, ultimately, its demise was born in the great differences between the cultures, both corporate and consumer, of SPI and TSR. Even under the best of circumstances, it seems unlikely that the periodical would survive its takeover by TSR, which, as I've said repeatedly in this series, is a shame, since I think there was much potential in Ares.

REVIEW: Death Love Doom

Every now and then, I get something sent to me for review that I don't really know what to do with. James Raggi's adventure Death Love Doom is a good example of what I'm talking about -- not because it's "bad" so much as it's very far removed from anything I'd like have bought of my own accord. I'll explain what I mean by that shortly.

The copy I own is part of a limited print run of 200 and it's not, so far as I'm aware, available anymore. Instead, you'll have to content yourself with a 20-page PDF (plus two pages of maps) that sells for 3.00€ (about $4 US). The adventure looks similar to previous Lamentations of the Flame Princess efforts, using a simple two-column layout and a variety of "period" fonts intended to evoke the 17th century. The cartography by Jez Gordon, is both attractive and useful. The interior artwork is all the work of Kelvin Green and in his excellent signature style, though the subject matter is quite a departure for him.

On the other hand, Death Love Doom isn't a departure for James Raggi. If anything, I'd say it's probably the "Raggi-est" adventure he's written, being both an unrepentant finger in the eye of those who want roleplaying game products to consist entirely of stuff you can show your mother and a creative exploration of some of his own dark feelings. That probably sounds terribly pretentious and I apologize for that, but it's the most succinct way I can explain the visceral, emotional charge of revulsion I felt reading parts of this adventure. What I felt wasn't just disgust at something I found "icky," though. It was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on, which is a big part of why I initially didn't know what to do with Death Love Doom.

The adventure takes place entirely within the house and grounds of the Foxlowe family, who reside in London in the year 1625. That was the first of several curve balls thrown at me when I started reading. Unlike previous LotFP adventures, this one takes place not in a fantasy approximation of early modern Europe but in early modern Europe itself. Why he did this I have no idea, because, to my mind, there's no obvious payoff in having done so. At the same time, there's no difficulty whatsoever in stripping out the 17th century English references and running the adventure as a "straight" fantasy, so it's more a quirky authorial choice than a serious flaw, but it is odd.

At the start of the adventure, rumors are circulating that the wealthy Foxlowes, including Erasmus, the family patriarch and a successful merchant, have unexpectedly disappeared, possibly traveling abroad. The player characters can thus take the roles of either thieves hoping to rob their estate while it is presumably unoccupied or concerned locals looking to discover just what has happened to the prosperous family. Death Love Doom is thus a location-based adventure whose "plot," such as it is, has already occurred before the PCs step foot inside the Foxlowe house. Something has happened therein, something that has turned their residence into a veritable house of horrors, as the PCs will discover as they investigate it.

What they won't discover, at least not easily, is why the terrible things within the house have happened -- why all the members of the Foxlowe family have been killed in horrific ways or, worse yet, turned into even more horrific monsters. It's not completely impossible, but it does require a fair bit of luck and cleverness. Otherwise, Death Love Doom comes across as little more than grotesquerie for the sake of grotesquerie and that, I think, is Death Love Doom's biggest flaw. Reading the entirety of the module, I know what happened to the Foxlowes and why and it's a very chilling tale indeed. But the likelihood that the PCs will discover this is small. To them, there will be no rhyme or reason behind all the dissected children and genital mutilations and people with limbs cut off and sewn back on in the wrong places.

That's unfortunate, since it weakens the power of the module and contributes to the caricature of Raggi's adventures as being twisted and dark for no good reason. There's a very good reason behind the things the PCs encounter in Death Love Doom and knowing them makes this a much more satisfying (and unsettling) adventure. This reason is known only to a handful of NPCs in the adventure and the likelihood that they'll be in a position to share that information with anyone is not great. I suspect Raggi knows this; indeed, I suspect that the "mystery" of it all is part of the point. But, speaking as a referee, I find this a serious weakness.

Even knowing the truth behind the events of Death Love Doom, I'm not sure I could ever run the adventure. That's not a flaw in the module or its presentation so much as a statement of my own preferences. Death Love Doom is not for the squeamish; it's filled with a large number of disturbing images of the "body horror" variety, ably illustrated by Kelvin Green. This adventure is definitely not for the weak of stomach. Those who aren't so sensitive may nevertheless find it disturbing, since, well, it is. This is an adventure in the grindhouse style Raggi loves so much and should be judged with that in mind.

Presentation: 8 out of 10
Creativity: 7 out of 10
Utility: 6 out of 10

Buy This If: You like your adventures to be disturbing and horrific.
Don't Buy This If: You're squeamish and/or prefer your adventures with a "lighter" tone.

The Fall

Being outdoors in a natural environment turns my thoughts to fantasy, doubly so when it's the Fall. The kind of fantasy I tend to enjoy -- and play -- has an "autumnal" character to it. How could it not? The ubiquity of ancient ruins filled with forgotten treasures in Dungeons & Dragons suggests a setting on the wane, or at least one that has seen better days. It's post-Golden Age, sometime after the oceans have drunk Atlantis and the gleaming cities. There may be a new civilization on the rise, but it's a tawdry one squatting in the ashes of the glory that was Rome.

I suppose this is why some have claimed that fantasy is a fundamentally conservative genre -- conservative in the non-political sense of viewing the world as "fallen" in one or more ways. That's admittedly a viewpoint for which I have a lot of personal sympathy, so maybe it's all too easy to accept it uncritically. Still, as I say, D&D has all these dungeons lying about, so it's hardly a stretch to think of the kind of fantasy it presents -- and thus with which most gamers are familiar -- is colored in shades of red, orange, and brown.

Mind you, it's not just D&D that presents fantasy in this fashion. Three seminal influences on the game and its players do so as well. Robert E. Howard's "undreamed of" Hyborian Age is explicitly a time after a great cataclysm. The Third Age of J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle-earth, though a time of great ferment, sees the waning of the elves and a general decline in the strength of Men. In the 21st Aeon of Jack Vance's The Dying Earth, the Sun is, literally, dying and, along with it, much of man's accumulated knowledge. I could probably name many other examples, but my point (to the extent I even have one) isn't to "prove" that fantasy must view the present with some pessimism compared to the past, only that it's a very common and influential theme.

It's worth noting, too, that quite a few gaming settings are post-cataclysmic. Greyhawk's Oerth, Dragonlance's Krynn, and Dark Sun's Athas all clearly are, as is Empire of the Petal Throne's Tékumel. As eventually developed later, The Known World had an apocalypse in its past, as even the Forgotten Realms is filled with the rising and falling of civilizations as the result of periodic cataclysms (though few of these seem to have had any lasting effecst on the setting).

I'm not really going anywhere with this post; I'm simply thinking out loud. The weather has been quite chilly lately and the leaves of the maple tree on my front yard are starting to change color and fall and I've found myself musing about fantasy even more than usual.

Pulp Fantasy Library: Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger

When fantasy film buffs think of the year 1977, chances are they probably think of Star Wars and rightly so; I know I do. But there was another movie released that year that I vividly remember seeing: Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger. Back when I was a kid, it was not at all unusual for theaters to show older "classic" (and not-so-classic) movies as weekend matinees. That's how I managed to see films like The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973), Jason and the Argonauts (1963), and The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958). All of these movies featured groups of heroic adventurers -- as well as some unfortunate henchmen -- who journeyed out into a mysterious world populated by Ray Harryhausen stop-motion monsters on some great quest. To say that these movies exerted an influence over my youthful imagination is an understatement. When I first discovered Dungeons & Dragons, I naturally drew on the ideas and imagery of these fantasy movies for inspiration. Needless to say, I felt vindicated in this when I purchased the AD&D Monster Manual in early 1980 and saw Dave Sutherland's illustration of the iron golem and realized that I wasn't the only one who did so.

Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger is, in my opinion, the weakest of the three Sinbad movies, in part because neither its lead (Patrick Wayne) nor its primary antagonist (Margaret Whiting) are all that memorable. On the other hand, some of the supporting cast, particularly Patrick Troughton, who plays the Greek alchemist Melanthius, are very good in their roles. Jane Seymour is no Caroline Munro, it's true, but she more than acquits herself as Farah, Sinbad's love interest and the catalyst for this latest adventure of the famed sailor in ancient Arabia.

I've never really understood why this film was titled as it was. There is a saber-toothed tiger, which features prominently in the movie poster, but its presence is not central to the plot. The same is true of the cat-like eyes that the evil queen Zenobia possesses whenever she engages in some act of sorcery. It's long been a mystery to me, since the plot sees Sinbad on his way to attend the coronation of Prince Kassim, his friend and the brother of the woman he hopes to marry. When he arrives, he finds that Kassim's capital city is in chaos thanks to the machinations of Zenobia, who hopes to put her son -- Kassim's stepbrother -- on the throne instead. To effect this coup, she uses black magic to turn Kassim into a baboon. His sister, Farah, turns to Sinbad to help reverse this spell, believing that, in his travels, he might know someone with the knowledge to do so. Naturally, he does and so Sinbad, Farah, the cursed Kassim, and a crew of doughty seamen head out to find the one man in the whole world who might be able to save the prince, pursued by Zenobia, her son, and the memorable metal minion known as the Minoton.

What follows is a rollicking adventure, as Sinbad travels from place to place, encountering a variety of hazards and creatures, on his quest. Unfortunately, the creatures aren't particularly interesting, or at least they weren't for me as a child. There's the aforementioned saber-toothed tiger, frozen in a block of ice, the baboon Kassim, and a cave man (called a troglodyte here), in addition to the Minoton. Of these, the Minoton is perhaps the most visually intriguing, but he doesn't actually do much more than row Zenobia's ship. The baboon is extremely well animated; it's almost believable as an actual animal, but it's just a monkey, however fun it is to see him play chess with Jane Seymour. Couple the lack of creatures as exciting as the Hyrdra from Jason and the Argonauts or the multi-armed statue from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad with the lackluster portrayals of both Sinbad and Zenobia and you're left with a less than satisfying fantasy film.

It's a shame really, because I think the overall plot of Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger is pretty good. Likewise, the character of Melanthius, as the only man with the knowledge to save Prince Kassim, is delightfully eccentric and engaging. He pretty much steals any scene he is in and I found myself wishing he were even more involved in the plot than he was. Still, there's enough in the movie to hold one's attention, so I'd never argue against seeing it. Compared to its predecessors, though, it's lacking a bit of "heart" and that prevents me from raving about it as I have other Harryhausen efforts.

Unearthed Arcana Reprint?

This past summer, Wizards of the Coast released three premium reprints of the original Gary Gygax-penned AD&D rulebooks. These were well received by the old school community (despite the usual nitpicking), leading some to hope that perhaps this might presage the return of more AD&D books or even the game's becoming permanently "in print" again. While the latter seems like a pipe dream to me, eagle-eyed Joseph Browning has found confirmation that, yes, we will be getting another AD&D rulebook reprinted -- Unearthed Arcana in February 2013.

The choice of Unearthed Arcana is a strange one, given the relatively low regard in which it's held by most old schoolers. On the other hand, it carries Gary's byline (even though it contains work by others) and, unlike Monster Manual II, which is also by Gygax, it's player-oriented. Plus, the original Unearthed Arcana was renowned for the shoddiness of both its editing and its binding. If the reprint corrects both those issues, it'd go some way toward making it a more attractive buy.

I'd still rather that WotC reprint something like the LBBs or Moldvay/Cook, but I'm not going to complain about seeing more AD&D on the shelves of game stores. If anything, it suggests that the original batch of reprints must have sold decently enough. I can't imagine WotC would bother with a follow-up volume if the previous release had been a bust.

Rival Adventurer Detail, Take Two

After reading through the comments to my previous post, I went back to modified the description of the rival adventuring parties slightly:

Party #1 (0 Experience Points): The Five Delvers

The Delvers are a new adventuring party based out of Muntburg. Driven by equal parts curiosity and greed, they are not adverse to aiding other adventuers.

Asceline (Level 1 Neutral Female Thief) AC: 5 HP: 4

STR 10 INT 15 WIS 12 CON 13 DEX 17 CHA 13

Pick Locks: 17% Find/Remove Traps: 14 Pick Pockets: 23% Move Silently: 23% Climb Walls: 87% Hide in Shadows: 13% Hear Noise 1-2

Equipment: Sword, Dagger, Leather Armor, Backpack, Waterskin, Lantern, 4 Flasks oil, 1 Week Iron Rations, 10' Pole, 50' Rope, Thieves Tools

Personality: Asceline is bold to the point of foolhardiness. Her charisma makes her a natural leader.

Fortin (Level 1 Neutral Male Fighter) AC: 4 HP: 8

STR 13 INT 12 WIS 12 CON 11 DEX 9 CHA 9

Equipment: Chain Armor, Shield, Sword, Dagger, 6 Torches, Backpack, Waterskin, 1 Week Iron Rations, 10' Pole

Personality: Fortin is the “strong and silent” type; he keeps his opinions to himself and does what he is told.

Rique of Tyche (Level 1 Lawful Male Cleric) AC: 5 HP: 6

STR 7 INT 12 WIS 13 CON 13 DEX 13 CHA 13

Spells: None

Equipment: Mace, Leather Armor, 6 Torches, Backpack, Waterskin, 1 Week Iron Rations, 10' Pole, Wooden Holy Symbol

Personality: Like many clerics of Tyche, Rique is addicted to danger. He sees exploring Dwimmermount as a reward in itself.

Lorenz (Level 1 Neutral Male Fighter) AC: 2 HP: 5

STR 14 INT 12 WIS 12 CON 5 DEX 14 CHA 12

Equipment: Plate Mail, Flail, Dagger, Short bow, Quiver of 20 Arrows, 6 Torches, Backpack, Waterskin, 1 Week Iron Rations, 50' Rope, Small Sack

Personality: Lorenz considers himself Asceline's “protector” and will do anything to keep her safe.

Thonyn (Level 1 Neutral Male Magic-User) AC: 9 HP: 3

STR 10 INT 16 WIS 13 CON 14 DEX 7 CHA 9

Spells: 1-Charm Person

Equipment: Dagger, 6 Torches, Backpack, Waterskin, 1 Week Iron Rations, 50' Rope, Vial of Holy Water
Personality: Thonyn is the least trustworthy member of the Delvers; he would betray his fellows if he felt he could gain magical power as a result.

Is this enough detail for the referee to hang his hat on? Or should there be more information about the party and the individuals who makes it up?