In musing on my last post, it occurred to me that I had rather downplayed colour as a portion of the ray gun. This needn't be a mistake, but it set the cogs in motion.
Here's how it goes: the newness and the strangeness of the beam from a ray gun might come about from a number of ways. Let's think of visuals: I shall apply some short-hand in the form of referring to other works.
So, the contemporary medieval fantasy is, for better or worse, going to draw on the HBO television adaptation Game of Thrones - as part of a knowledge base, a shared understanding, a cultural reference point. If you have seen it, you may observe that the visual tone - as shown in costumes, sets, locations - is often rather muted. I might equally point to the 2010 film True Grit.
Either way, a brightly coloured laser from a ray gun is going to look deeply out of place: imagine the brilliant red of the ray against the grim grey hill side. All in keeping - my premise being that the ray should look unreal, otherworldly.
Therefore this ray might be said to come from a different dimension. A dimension of bright, uniform colours. A dimension of American comic books of the mid-twentieth century. Or of the brilliant, carefully contrasted abstractions of heraldry.
Thusly, I turned to Iain Moncrieffe and Don Pottinger's Simple Heraldry - Cheerfully Illustrated (a charming little book if you can get a copy) and produced the following table for your laser shooting beams from the heraldry dimension.
What colour is the beam of your ray gun? [If you need a crib, you may find it here.]
1. Gules/Sanguine
2. Tenne
3. Or
4. Vert
5. Azure
6. Pupere
7. Sable
8. Argent
9. Ermine/Contre-ermine
10. Vair
What shape, in cross section, is the beam of your ray gun?
1. A fess (rectangle, longest side horizontal)
2. A pale (rectangle, longest side vertical)
3. A cross/a saltire
4. A pairle (Y-shape)
5. A chevron
6. A roundel
7. A trefoil/quatrefoil/cinquefoil
8. A label (bar with three descending tabs)
9. A lozenge
10. An eschuteon (shaped like a shield with a flat top and pointed base)
Go forth; wield your trusty ermine energy blade to put a Y-shaped hole through Ming the Merciless and save the day!
Sunday, 25 February 2018
Saturday, 24 February 2018
Azoth: Ray gun as nightmare fuel
Recently having re-read Gene Wolfe's Book of the Long Sun, I am drawn to the azoth in the text. It is better and simpler, perhaps, just to transcribe passages of the original text first rather than try to describe the salient features.
'..the other object was shaped like a T. The stem was cylindrical and oddly rough, with a single, smooth protuberance beneath the crossbar; the crossbar itself seemed polished and slightly curved, and had upturned ends. The entire object felt unnaturally cold, as reptiles often do.'
'...an azoth is supposed to be controlled by something called a demon.'
'There was an unfacetted crimson gem (he vaguely remembered having heard a similar gem called a bloodstone) in the grip. It was too flat and much too highly polished to turn. He gripped the azoth...and pressed the crimson get with his thumb.
Reality separated. Something else appeared between the halves, as current divides a quiet pool. Plaser from the wall across the room fell smoking onto the carpet, revealing laths that themselves exploded in a shower of splinters with the next movement of his thumb.
Involuntarily, he released the demon, and the azoth's blade vanished.'
[All the above from Chapter Six of Nightside the Long Sun - the reader's introduction to the azoth.]
One take-away from all this is (though, given Wolfe, hardly the only one: the connection of demon and sword is perhaps also notable) the azoth as an interpretation of the lightsaber - a device in a science fiction work resembling the hilt of a sword, with its own power source that produces a blade made of energy that cuts through most everything.
(The quoted passage above only damages a domestic wall; rest assured it can do more. The line about reality seperating ought to be troubling enough without an example of widespread destruction.)
I hardly imagine the azoth just came about from Gene Wolfe watching Star Wars and thinking 'That seems mighty terrifying,' - but that's an angle to take away from it. It is beyond other weapons: we have a notion of bullet-proof or blade-proof: however terrifying a person wielding either might be, there is notion of escape. Not so the azoth: Silk, protagonist of The Book of the Long Sun would rather jump out a window than face one. It's a good way to think of the lightsaber or similar - a manifestation of the power of the Force, in terms of the structure of not the canon of Star Wars: an incomparable weapon, whoever wields it (therefore, let us hope it's the White Hats, not the Black Helmets).
Anyway: the central premise 'This cuts through anything' ought to be absolutely terrifying. 'An elegant weapon for a more civilised age.' Hardly! Swords and slug guns do not compare; the image a blade or built may do is real and conceivable. The azoth is invoked as demonic, otherworldly - devastating in a whole new way. (Of course, in the The Book of the Long Sun it has limits. It is nonetheless terrifying).
I have been casually throwing a few scattered science fiction remnants into certain sections of my Terrae Vertebrae setting of late - I speak of the Qryth. The High Medieval shading through to Renaissance setting of Terrae Vertebrae barely has gunpowder or the printing press. Magic is comparable, but not quite so banal - one has to chant and make mystic gestures, not just pull a trigger and point.
Either way, there are some settings where a ray gun, even a ray gun of the most ludicrous type from pulp science fiction or children's cartoons ought to be new, strange and terrifying. Terrae Vertebrae should be one such setting. The tables below allows for a variety of technological terrors to be produced.
"Tell me, what was the ray like?"
1. "Like a single thread of fire, stretching towards his body!"
2. "A rod of blinding light, a foot in length!"
3. "Nothing that one could see, a ripple of heat haze in the air!"
4. "Forked like lightening and just as swift!"
5. "Rings! Wide rings, like ripples in water! Hanging in the air!"
6. "He pointed, and there was a surge of light - think of that which hangs in the Northern Sky!"
7. "Three thin beams came out - then they joined, like the legs of a stool!"
8. "An orb, the size of a man's fist - moving with dreadful purpose!"
9. "Just as the foam on the tide as it rolls over the shore, so this moved in the air!"
10. "Bright and swift, like the sparks from the forge , leaving such sparks in its wake!"
"Tell me, what sound did it make?"
1. "As unto the crack of a giant's whip!"
2. "Like the terrible sound of thunder, from clouds just above your head!"
3. "Its passing was like ten thousand arrows in flight!"
4. "I heard only screams!"
5. "A titanic blade on the grindstone!"
6. "Great and monstrous buzzing, like a swarm of bees!"
7. "High and sharp - a mosquito's whine!"
8. "Hard, vast and unrelenting - a monstrous, tuneless bell!"
9. "Distant, high and hungry, like the eagle of the mountains!"
10. "Like water running out of a narrow drain - everything was being sucked away, displaced!"
Colours (if you need them)
1. Red
2. Orange
3. Yellow
4. Green
5. Blue
6. Indigo/Violet
7. Brown/Beige [Bonus points to the first person to make a Beige laser pistol terrifying!]
8. White
9. Black
10. "Unnameable and terrible!"
Add Jale, Ulfire, Dolm, Fuligin, Octarine or Garrow in your own time.
All terribly melodramatic or hyberbolic, I know. But they have just witnessed something unreal, world shattering - or at least capable of shattering the substance of the world in a way nothing else can.
'..the other object was shaped like a T. The stem was cylindrical and oddly rough, with a single, smooth protuberance beneath the crossbar; the crossbar itself seemed polished and slightly curved, and had upturned ends. The entire object felt unnaturally cold, as reptiles often do.'
'...an azoth is supposed to be controlled by something called a demon.'
'There was an unfacetted crimson gem (he vaguely remembered having heard a similar gem called a bloodstone) in the grip. It was too flat and much too highly polished to turn. He gripped the azoth...and pressed the crimson get with his thumb.
Reality separated. Something else appeared between the halves, as current divides a quiet pool. Plaser from the wall across the room fell smoking onto the carpet, revealing laths that themselves exploded in a shower of splinters with the next movement of his thumb.
Involuntarily, he released the demon, and the azoth's blade vanished.'
[All the above from Chapter Six of Nightside the Long Sun - the reader's introduction to the azoth.]
 |
| Litany of the Long Sun, containing Nightside the Long Sun and Lake of the Long Sun. This edition by Orb Books, an imprint of Tor Books. |
One take-away from all this is (though, given Wolfe, hardly the only one: the connection of demon and sword is perhaps also notable) the azoth as an interpretation of the lightsaber - a device in a science fiction work resembling the hilt of a sword, with its own power source that produces a blade made of energy that cuts through most everything.
(The quoted passage above only damages a domestic wall; rest assured it can do more. The line about reality seperating ought to be troubling enough without an example of widespread destruction.)
I hardly imagine the azoth just came about from Gene Wolfe watching Star Wars and thinking 'That seems mighty terrifying,' - but that's an angle to take away from it. It is beyond other weapons: we have a notion of bullet-proof or blade-proof: however terrifying a person wielding either might be, there is notion of escape. Not so the azoth: Silk, protagonist of The Book of the Long Sun would rather jump out a window than face one. It's a good way to think of the lightsaber or similar - a manifestation of the power of the Force, in terms of the structure of not the canon of Star Wars: an incomparable weapon, whoever wields it (therefore, let us hope it's the White Hats, not the Black Helmets).
Anyway: the central premise 'This cuts through anything' ought to be absolutely terrifying. 'An elegant weapon for a more civilised age.' Hardly! Swords and slug guns do not compare; the image a blade or built may do is real and conceivable. The azoth is invoked as demonic, otherworldly - devastating in a whole new way. (Of course, in the The Book of the Long Sun it has limits. It is nonetheless terrifying).
I have been casually throwing a few scattered science fiction remnants into certain sections of my Terrae Vertebrae setting of late - I speak of the Qryth. The High Medieval shading through to Renaissance setting of Terrae Vertebrae barely has gunpowder or the printing press. Magic is comparable, but not quite so banal - one has to chant and make mystic gestures, not just pull a trigger and point.
Either way, there are some settings where a ray gun, even a ray gun of the most ludicrous type from pulp science fiction or children's cartoons ought to be new, strange and terrifying. Terrae Vertebrae should be one such setting. The tables below allows for a variety of technological terrors to be produced.
"Tell me, what was the ray like?"
1. "Like a single thread of fire, stretching towards his body!"
2. "A rod of blinding light, a foot in length!"
3. "Nothing that one could see, a ripple of heat haze in the air!"
4. "Forked like lightening and just as swift!"
5. "Rings! Wide rings, like ripples in water! Hanging in the air!"
6. "He pointed, and there was a surge of light - think of that which hangs in the Northern Sky!"
7. "Three thin beams came out - then they joined, like the legs of a stool!"
8. "An orb, the size of a man's fist - moving with dreadful purpose!"
9. "Just as the foam on the tide as it rolls over the shore, so this moved in the air!"
10. "Bright and swift, like the sparks from the forge , leaving such sparks in its wake!"
 |
| Still from the 2004 film Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. 21st Century pastiche, but it gets the point across. |
"Tell me, what sound did it make?"
1. "As unto the crack of a giant's whip!"
2. "Like the terrible sound of thunder, from clouds just above your head!"
3. "Its passing was like ten thousand arrows in flight!"
4. "I heard only screams!"
5. "A titanic blade on the grindstone!"
6. "Great and monstrous buzzing, like a swarm of bees!"
7. "High and sharp - a mosquito's whine!"
8. "Hard, vast and unrelenting - a monstrous, tuneless bell!"
9. "Distant, high and hungry, like the eagle of the mountains!"
10. "Like water running out of a narrow drain - everything was being sucked away, displaced!"
Colours (if you need them)
1. Red
2. Orange
3. Yellow
4. Green
5. Blue
6. Indigo/Violet
7. Brown/Beige [Bonus points to the first person to make a Beige laser pistol terrifying!]
8. White
9. Black
10. "Unnameable and terrible!"
Add Jale, Ulfire, Dolm, Fuligin, Octarine or Garrow in your own time.
All terribly melodramatic or hyberbolic, I know. But they have just witnessed something unreal, world shattering - or at least capable of shattering the substance of the world in a way nothing else can.
Qryth Questions
OR, What's a nice four-armed green thing like you doing in a place like this?
For those new to all this, or who want a refresher: I've been floating Punth and the Qryth for a while now, giving a somewhat fleshed-out introduction alongside a specific hexcrawl.
So, I shall go over the questions about Punth and the Qryth that might ask for an answer - and haven't quite been answered elsewhere.
What surrounds Punth?
To the North: A mountain range*; beyond that, southern provinces of the Nirvanite Imperium.
To the East: The Mountains of the Spine of the World.
To the West: The Inner Sea; beyond the sea, the Coastal Emirates.
To the South: ...well, I haven't written this yet. But let us say that it is divided between Zanzibar-style East Africa Emirate-influenced trade ports and the tribal kingdoms and confederacies of the interior.
What's the terrain and climate of Punth like?
Fertile Crescent-Mesopotamia, with Arabian Empty-Quarter regions and a single coastline. Settlement is centred around the rivers, but the more deserty regions have Qryth occupancy and thus distort the typical model of population (as in the Hexcrawl).
What's the history of Punth?
See here.
How's Punth governed?
As the hexcrawl article above suggests, the Qryth rule. To take this a little further, this resembles an aristocratic republic like Ancient Rome or Carthage, but with the sort of domination by the Qryth that utterly crushes any democratic influence. There is a 'tribune of the plebs' equivalent for human Punthites, but this is not a position of power. An emergency powers role - a Shogun or (Roman Republican) dictator - can be granted, but has rarely become a cross-generational feature. Qryth cultural strength restrains it.
All this is without taking into account the Codes and the power they offer. That very clearly puts a new light on things, whatever the parliamentary practices might be. It becomes much more reminiscent of a one-party state in the Twentieth century. But the Qryth have been at this for centuries. A position in the Assembly or the Codification Group is politically fraught, but a disgraced Qryth Assembly member is going to be to be sent off into the distant provinces or to an estate than to be executed without trial. Parliament, not Politburo. Oligarchical collectivism? Not quite.
Is there a Punthite religion?
Not really. The Codes are a pragmatic device for working in the world - though they are so all-consuming that they might be said to have the status of a religion.
Is there a Qryth religion?
Again, not really. As space-farers, the original shipwrecked Qryth had the sort of faith that had become rather abstract. However, Qryth culture is an obsession: keeping the torch burning, sticking together, rather than becoming a scattered people, permanent exiles.
...the features of Qryth culture being?
Of course, if the ancestors of the present-day Qryth or their people beyond the stars saw all this, they would be deeply confused. The most foreign element is the interpretation of the Codes and the leadership of the Punth: this is part of the life of each Qryth. Magisterial scholarship and jurisprudence dominates the academies of the Qryth. But this is acknowledged as duty distant from their essential 'Qryth-ness'.
The Qryth culture in Punth, then, involves learning a great deal of history, learning and living in a traditional Qryth manner (the greatest of the Qryth tread a fine line doing this: the more they spend in Reserves or Retreats, the more they embody their culture, the more status they gain - but their own power and influence may suffer). The crew of the Qryth ship that crashed were adventurous explorer types, pseudo-military even - hunting and athletics pursuits are typical. This has a distorting influence on Qryth art, as if a predominant theme of sculpture was Rugby Union and the Venus di Milo wore a scrum cap.
Hang on, Terrae Vertebrae has magic and clerics and so forth - do the Qryth have souls? What happens to the Punthites after death, given their moral status?
The Faith of the Eight debate this intently. They have come to the notion that some sort of Purgatory is provided for the less malevolent of the Punth. The Qryth are damned for their tyranny or complicity in tyranny. The various Crusades into Punth are a consequence of this.
So, can the Punthites do magic? And the Qryth?
The Punthites can, but it's an up-hill struggle given the thought-dominating status of the codes. The Qryth are outsiders to this 'magical biome'; it is a real struggle for them to master even the basics. This is exacerbated by the lack of a Qryth magical tradition, both pre- and post- shipwreck.
What size are the Qryth?
Ten foot or so. Green-ish skin, four arms. Slim corded-muscle bodies. Pretty much Tharks. Twice as strong as a strong man.
So, like Tharks, they have males and females? Do they bear young like mammals, or hatch eggs like natives of Barsoom?
Yes to males and females. They are similar in appearance is most respects, more so than humans. Social division along such lines is present though limited: Qryth women can live like Spartan females, propped up by plenty of helots. Eggs are hatched, as Barsoom - but individually by families and without the Green Martian 'natural selection' element. Child rearing is very important to the Qryth, to sustain their culture - and to make sure the children aren't going become like the Punthites. Contact between Qryth juveniles and humans is limited.
For those new to all this, or who want a refresher: I've been floating Punth and the Qryth for a while now, giving a somewhat fleshed-out introduction alongside a specific hexcrawl.
So, I shall go over the questions about Punth and the Qryth that might ask for an answer - and haven't quite been answered elsewhere.
What surrounds Punth?
To the North: A mountain range*; beyond that, southern provinces of the Nirvanite Imperium.
To the East: The Mountains of the Spine of the World.
To the West: The Inner Sea; beyond the sea, the Coastal Emirates.
To the South: ...well, I haven't written this yet. But let us say that it is divided between Zanzibar-style East Africa Emirate-influenced trade ports and the tribal kingdoms and confederacies of the interior.
What's the terrain and climate of Punth like?
Fertile Crescent-Mesopotamia, with Arabian Empty-Quarter regions and a single coastline. Settlement is centred around the rivers, but the more deserty regions have Qryth occupancy and thus distort the typical model of population (as in the Hexcrawl).
What's the history of Punth?
See here.
How's Punth governed?
As the hexcrawl article above suggests, the Qryth rule. To take this a little further, this resembles an aristocratic republic like Ancient Rome or Carthage, but with the sort of domination by the Qryth that utterly crushes any democratic influence. There is a 'tribune of the plebs' equivalent for human Punthites, but this is not a position of power. An emergency powers role - a Shogun or (Roman Republican) dictator - can be granted, but has rarely become a cross-generational feature. Qryth cultural strength restrains it.
All this is without taking into account the Codes and the power they offer. That very clearly puts a new light on things, whatever the parliamentary practices might be. It becomes much more reminiscent of a one-party state in the Twentieth century. But the Qryth have been at this for centuries. A position in the Assembly or the Codification Group is politically fraught, but a disgraced Qryth Assembly member is going to be to be sent off into the distant provinces or to an estate than to be executed without trial. Parliament, not Politburo. Oligarchical collectivism? Not quite.
Is there a Punthite religion?
Not really. The Codes are a pragmatic device for working in the world - though they are so all-consuming that they might be said to have the status of a religion.
Is there a Qryth religion?
Again, not really. As space-farers, the original shipwrecked Qryth had the sort of faith that had become rather abstract. However, Qryth culture is an obsession: keeping the torch burning, sticking together, rather than becoming a scattered people, permanent exiles.
...the features of Qryth culture being?
Of course, if the ancestors of the present-day Qryth or their people beyond the stars saw all this, they would be deeply confused. The most foreign element is the interpretation of the Codes and the leadership of the Punth: this is part of the life of each Qryth. Magisterial scholarship and jurisprudence dominates the academies of the Qryth. But this is acknowledged as duty distant from their essential 'Qryth-ness'.
The Qryth culture in Punth, then, involves learning a great deal of history, learning and living in a traditional Qryth manner (the greatest of the Qryth tread a fine line doing this: the more they spend in Reserves or Retreats, the more they embody their culture, the more status they gain - but their own power and influence may suffer). The crew of the Qryth ship that crashed were adventurous explorer types, pseudo-military even - hunting and athletics pursuits are typical. This has a distorting influence on Qryth art, as if a predominant theme of sculpture was Rugby Union and the Venus di Milo wore a scrum cap.
Hang on, Terrae Vertebrae has magic and clerics and so forth - do the Qryth have souls? What happens to the Punthites after death, given their moral status?
The Faith of the Eight debate this intently. They have come to the notion that some sort of Purgatory is provided for the less malevolent of the Punth. The Qryth are damned for their tyranny or complicity in tyranny. The various Crusades into Punth are a consequence of this.
So, can the Punthites do magic? And the Qryth?
The Punthites can, but it's an up-hill struggle given the thought-dominating status of the codes. The Qryth are outsiders to this 'magical biome'; it is a real struggle for them to master even the basics. This is exacerbated by the lack of a Qryth magical tradition, both pre- and post- shipwreck.
What size are the Qryth?
Ten foot or so. Green-ish skin, four arms. Slim corded-muscle bodies. Pretty much Tharks. Twice as strong as a strong man.
So, like Tharks, they have males and females? Do they bear young like mammals, or hatch eggs like natives of Barsoom?
Yes to males and females. They are similar in appearance is most respects, more so than humans. Social division along such lines is present though limited: Qryth women can live like Spartan females, propped up by plenty of helots. Eggs are hatched, as Barsoom - but individually by families and without the Green Martian 'natural selection' element. Child rearing is very important to the Qryth, to sustain their culture - and to make sure the children aren't going become like the Punthites. Contact between Qryth juveniles and humans is limited.
[EDIT - No longer quite the case]
Does Punth trade a great deal?
Not really; it has had to be self-sustaining at many points in history during wars. Even pre-Qryth, it wasn't a seafaring state and the deserts and mountains make trade difficult.
Ports exist on the coast, but the economy of Punth, while not as such centrally planned, puts a great deal of stress on coordination for the purposes of the Qryth; there is no regular trade deal due to Punth's status as an outsider on the international stage and those traders that do come to Punth are rarely greeted warmly. This is due to being outside the Codes, a mercurial commercial policy and Qryth snobbery.
It might be compared to Western merchants travelling to the East Indies in the Sixteenth Century. While there isn't so far to travel, there is no established diplomatic link or trade policy in place; who knows what the Local potentate or governor will think of you; the culture shock is acute; and making a deal, let alone a profit is shaky proposition at best.
What's the architecture like, what with ten-foot folk living besides five-foot folk?
All public buildings are Qryth-sized - compulsory under the Code (besides being useful in places that function-wise have to accommodate plenty). Some private buildings are regularly sized, but a Punthite of wealth will have a Qryth-sized home or reception space.
The prominent feature of Punthite architecture is the ziggurat: a defensible citadel, a reminder of their history, a court for the Qryth officialdom. Qryth cultural impulses on the part of the shipwrecked crew preserved smaller things than buildings - just as stranded humans might preserve the Iliad with more ease than Classical architecture. The oldest and grandest ziggurats were built with advanced technology and thus are the best examples of Qryth architecture. The original crash site was also heavily fortified - but the pre-fabricated huts that the spaceship carried have long since gone and the walls alone remain from those days.
Speaking of advanced technology, what's left among the Qryth?
The occasional ray-gun and communicator. A few medical devices, with ritualistic instructions and limits uses (the automatic doctor can reattach legs good as new - but it takes time to set it up, during which time the patient might bleed out and it can only reattach legs).
The sort of standard of these things is indicative in one of those old machines that has been maintained to this day. It makes armour from ingots of iron and with plenty of time to charge up the solar panels. But what it can make is very close fitting pieces of metal, perfectly weighted and shaped for a given individual, of a very high quality steel. But a team of craftsmen has to attach straps, buckles and pads to these pieces of metal and make the whole thing workable.
What do they eat?
The Punthites can eat what humans eat. Their diet is perhaps limited and functional rather than extensive, but is not utterly bleak.
The Qryth spent some time doing genetic modification to make local plants edible and nourishing for them, as well as generally more healthy, bigger &c. They have applied this to a number of beasts as well (hence the game reserves, though some Qryth-beasts can be reared for food rather than just hunted). They can no longer make said modifications on any great scale.
Are there any further questions?
*I quite like the idea of the presence of a beleaguered Armenian or Georgian equivalent in these mountains, sandwiched between empires (IE, Byzantine and Persian) - though without the Black Sea. But to give Medieval Colchis and Lazica and so forth their due, this really needs a little more research. Also, there are Dwarves which I want to do something with, mentioned in the Beyond Vertebrea post.
Does Punth trade a great deal?
Not really; it has had to be self-sustaining at many points in history during wars. Even pre-Qryth, it wasn't a seafaring state and the deserts and mountains make trade difficult.
Ports exist on the coast, but the economy of Punth, while not as such centrally planned, puts a great deal of stress on coordination for the purposes of the Qryth; there is no regular trade deal due to Punth's status as an outsider on the international stage and those traders that do come to Punth are rarely greeted warmly. This is due to being outside the Codes, a mercurial commercial policy and Qryth snobbery.
It might be compared to Western merchants travelling to the East Indies in the Sixteenth Century. While there isn't so far to travel, there is no established diplomatic link or trade policy in place; who knows what the Local potentate or governor will think of you; the culture shock is acute; and making a deal, let alone a profit is shaky proposition at best.
What's the architecture like, what with ten-foot folk living besides five-foot folk?
All public buildings are Qryth-sized - compulsory under the Code (besides being useful in places that function-wise have to accommodate plenty). Some private buildings are regularly sized, but a Punthite of wealth will have a Qryth-sized home or reception space.
The prominent feature of Punthite architecture is the ziggurat: a defensible citadel, a reminder of their history, a court for the Qryth officialdom. Qryth cultural impulses on the part of the shipwrecked crew preserved smaller things than buildings - just as stranded humans might preserve the Iliad with more ease than Classical architecture. The oldest and grandest ziggurats were built with advanced technology and thus are the best examples of Qryth architecture. The original crash site was also heavily fortified - but the pre-fabricated huts that the spaceship carried have long since gone and the walls alone remain from those days.
Speaking of advanced technology, what's left among the Qryth?
The occasional ray-gun and communicator. A few medical devices, with ritualistic instructions and limits uses (the automatic doctor can reattach legs good as new - but it takes time to set it up, during which time the patient might bleed out and it can only reattach legs).
The sort of standard of these things is indicative in one of those old machines that has been maintained to this day. It makes armour from ingots of iron and with plenty of time to charge up the solar panels. But what it can make is very close fitting pieces of metal, perfectly weighted and shaped for a given individual, of a very high quality steel. But a team of craftsmen has to attach straps, buckles and pads to these pieces of metal and make the whole thing workable.
What do they eat?
The Punthites can eat what humans eat. Their diet is perhaps limited and functional rather than extensive, but is not utterly bleak.
The Qryth spent some time doing genetic modification to make local plants edible and nourishing for them, as well as generally more healthy, bigger &c. They have applied this to a number of beasts as well (hence the game reserves, though some Qryth-beasts can be reared for food rather than just hunted). They can no longer make said modifications on any great scale.
Are there any further questions?
*I quite like the idea of the presence of a beleaguered Armenian or Georgian equivalent in these mountains, sandwiched between empires (IE, Byzantine and Persian) - though without the Black Sea. But to give Medieval Colchis and Lazica and so forth their due, this really needs a little more research. Also, there are Dwarves which I want to do something with, mentioned in the Beyond Vertebrea post.
Saturday, 17 February 2018
Faun Fashions
Some of you may recall that I suggested the Faun or Satyr (I use the term 'Caprine' may be used for the category of both) as a replacement in fantasy RPGs for Gnomes, Halflings or anything in that nippy and nimble/semi-magical/fun-loving mould.
An idle thought hit me when running over the Faun concept. What do they wear? Frequently, of course, caprines are portrayed wearing little. But unless you want fauns to magically carry round with them the warm clime of Arcadia, they will probably wear something, sometimes.
Moreover, it is generally recognised by fauns that a) other humanoids generally like certain portions of the body to be covered up and b) it is sometimes worth covering up vulnerable portions of the body (IE, when cooking, working in the forge or in melee combat).
Having goat legs, however, is good in that it is sufficient to keep off the worst of the weather - but fauns enjoy being relatively unhindered leg-wise: free to dance or leap or climb. This is not generally objected to in humanoid society; if you want caprines doing caprine things and doing them well, don't hamper them. Trousers and britches are out; skirts and kilts are a little too constrictive still. Yes, caprines can wear them and work in them - but this makes them look too similar to humans: disagreeable as one working at worldbuilding - or as a faun who is not shy about being a faun.
Therefore: the underlayer of caprine costume is something we may refer to as a 'modesty tabard'. It reaches to mid-thigh or lower, bears a certain resemblance to a white shirt and covers up what needs to be covered. (Speculate on any garments underneath at leisure - and elsewhere).
The upper torso can then be dressed much as a human upper torso [Probably a most sinister sentence in isolation]. However, a few further things to note.
Firstly, the modesty tabard can be further concealed or decorated by an ornamental apron. That is, further deflecting away attention from the tabard and transforming the utilitarian garment. Naturally, a satyr cook will wear a plain apron; goat legs do no resist hot soup.
Secondly, the garments on the upper torso are generally cut quite short, so they do not impede the legs. For example, a faun is more likely to wear a waist-length poncho than a slicker to keep off the rain. A faun is more likely to wear a tight pea-jacket than a long overcoat.
A caprine will not, under most circumstances, wear shoes. However, if attending a formal event or in a finely decorated house with expensive carpets, a caprine may wear galoshes to keep the mud and dirt of the street from their hooves. These are removed on entrance to the house.
Headgear presents a difficulty: caprines have horned heads. Horns that can vary in size, shape or position. A hat proper must be made to measure, bespoke; to best accommodate brim, dome - and horns. Thus it is more likely to see low-income fauns - or satyrs in some job where the hat might be lost or muddied - wearing turbans, shawls or other forms of more flexible headgear.
ARMS AND THE FAUN
Naturally, caprines must sometimes wear armour. By their nature, they are more likely to serve as light infantry or scouts than as heavy infantry.
(Caprines can ride horses. However, they must ride them side-saddle. Satyr cavalry is therefore either chariot based or mounted infantry in the dragoon fashion.)
Caprine armour might extend down the flanks - pteruges are not uncommon; greaves might be worn. But the faun must be able to move rapidly. Particularly heavy or cumbersome plate armour is largely unknown among caprines, even on the torso.
Helmets pose a similar difficulty to hats; a conscript satyr is more likely to be issued a series of metal bands that cross the head, leaving the horns poking through - rather like the leather-bound steel caps of the Early Middle Ages, but with strategic gaps. Helmet making among caprines is a rather specialist enterprise. The skilled helmet maker must accommodate the horns without making them into awkward prongs that direct a blow toward the skull. This can produce some extraordinary creations.
***
I believe this covers the basics of caprine costuming - largely on the logistical or mechanical side of things than this season's styles. If anything further crops up, I shall let you know.
An idle thought hit me when running over the Faun concept. What do they wear? Frequently, of course, caprines are portrayed wearing little. But unless you want fauns to magically carry round with them the warm clime of Arcadia, they will probably wear something, sometimes.
Moreover, it is generally recognised by fauns that a) other humanoids generally like certain portions of the body to be covered up and b) it is sometimes worth covering up vulnerable portions of the body (IE, when cooking, working in the forge or in melee combat).
Having goat legs, however, is good in that it is sufficient to keep off the worst of the weather - but fauns enjoy being relatively unhindered leg-wise: free to dance or leap or climb. This is not generally objected to in humanoid society; if you want caprines doing caprine things and doing them well, don't hamper them. Trousers and britches are out; skirts and kilts are a little too constrictive still. Yes, caprines can wear them and work in them - but this makes them look too similar to humans: disagreeable as one working at worldbuilding - or as a faun who is not shy about being a faun.
Therefore: the underlayer of caprine costume is something we may refer to as a 'modesty tabard'. It reaches to mid-thigh or lower, bears a certain resemblance to a white shirt and covers up what needs to be covered. (Speculate on any garments underneath at leisure - and elsewhere).
The upper torso can then be dressed much as a human upper torso [Probably a most sinister sentence in isolation]. However, a few further things to note.
Firstly, the modesty tabard can be further concealed or decorated by an ornamental apron. That is, further deflecting away attention from the tabard and transforming the utilitarian garment. Naturally, a satyr cook will wear a plain apron; goat legs do no resist hot soup.
Secondly, the garments on the upper torso are generally cut quite short, so they do not impede the legs. For example, a faun is more likely to wear a waist-length poncho than a slicker to keep off the rain. A faun is more likely to wear a tight pea-jacket than a long overcoat.
A caprine will not, under most circumstances, wear shoes. However, if attending a formal event or in a finely decorated house with expensive carpets, a caprine may wear galoshes to keep the mud and dirt of the street from their hooves. These are removed on entrance to the house.
Headgear presents a difficulty: caprines have horned heads. Horns that can vary in size, shape or position. A hat proper must be made to measure, bespoke; to best accommodate brim, dome - and horns. Thus it is more likely to see low-income fauns - or satyrs in some job where the hat might be lost or muddied - wearing turbans, shawls or other forms of more flexible headgear.
ARMS AND THE FAUN
Naturally, caprines must sometimes wear armour. By their nature, they are more likely to serve as light infantry or scouts than as heavy infantry.
(Caprines can ride horses. However, they must ride them side-saddle. Satyr cavalry is therefore either chariot based or mounted infantry in the dragoon fashion.)
Caprine armour might extend down the flanks - pteruges are not uncommon; greaves might be worn. But the faun must be able to move rapidly. Particularly heavy or cumbersome plate armour is largely unknown among caprines, even on the torso.
Helmets pose a similar difficulty to hats; a conscript satyr is more likely to be issued a series of metal bands that cross the head, leaving the horns poking through - rather like the leather-bound steel caps of the Early Middle Ages, but with strategic gaps. Helmet making among caprines is a rather specialist enterprise. The skilled helmet maker must accommodate the horns without making them into awkward prongs that direct a blow toward the skull. This can produce some extraordinary creations.
***
I believe this covers the basics of caprine costuming - largely on the logistical or mechanical side of things than this season's styles. If anything further crops up, I shall let you know.
Thursday, 15 February 2018
Romanesque Fantasy
SO: I imagine readers of this blog have a notion of Gothic fiction and Gothic-themed fantasy. Regardless of any connection of this to Gothic fiction...
...Gothic architecture....
....or the fiction or the architecture of the Goths.
Let us say that it is characterised by (among other things) darkness, some level of decadence, a static culture or scenario in which the characters of the story find themselves, some air of the macabre and the potential for wonder and terror. (Maybe you think this is to over-egg the pudding; perhaps you feel it doesn't go far enough. If you have feel either way, you hopefully have a sufficient notion of the Gothic with which to proceed.)
Gothic architecture (and/or the revival thereof) played some role in conjuring this all up. Gothic architecture does not just mean 'Medieval'; it responds to a particular type and time. Maybe not a type and time as neatly defined as the reign of a King, but a type and time nonetheless.
What if one goes to the predecessor of Gothic architecture, the Romanesque? If you are not familiar with it, take yourself over to Wikipedia. Examples may appear throughout this post.
Romanesque fantasy is not about decadence, nor is it static. It is robust and growing, rather than hesitant and newborn. There is expansion.
Romanesque fantasy might be among or inspired by the ruins of the past, but it transcends them. It is not bound by them, nor is it devoted to them.
The cultural, political or other vital institutions of the state in Romanesque fantasy are vital. They might be top-heavy, but they are not moribund. Their scope is broad, but not utterly permeable. New ideas are able to emerge, but not without a struggle - and not where they might threaten what has been won.
Crusades might occur; Inquisitions would not.
Romanesque fantasy is robust, rather than delicate. It is not perfectly agreeable to the human. However, it is not bewildering in scope, nor narrow in body.
The Romanesque hero is somewhat like Charlemagne: a conquerer and a builder. If the Romanesque hero is on the back foot, or lesser in scope, he might be like Alfred the Great.
Conan the Barbarian is too primeval to be a Romanesque protagonist; Elric of Melnibone is too decadent. King Arthur is doomed to fail. Sir Galahad has his eyes set rather higher than heroism. Achilles is too much the fighter. John Carter is unmoored from his time and place. D'Artagnan is too much the rogue. If Prince Caspian is too rooted in Civil War in the book of the same name, he might be somewhat Romanesque in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Aragorn is not of Gondor in quite the way a Romanesque hero might be.
Speaking of Gondor, there is something definitely Romanesque about Minas Tirith - or might be in some tales from Middle-Earth. Note that Gondor's armies are varied, coming from a wide range of provinces and cultures (even forgetting allies such as Rohan) [See the arrival of the Captains of the Outlands, Dol Amroth, &c.]. It might be argued that Gondor's ruins define it too heavily, but a Romanesque fantasy is not devoid of ruin (why else reference Rome?). However, ruin must not master that world, though it might harry it.
Peter Jackson's motion picture adaptation of Lord of the Rings certainly used something like Byzantine or Romanesque architecture.
The Romanesque hero cannot just be a warrior. He is a King or Lord, which may well have a martial aspect.
In Romanesque fantasy, there is work to be done, relatively nearby. Within your own continent, there are dangerous frontiers; pagan barbarians, unsettled land, threatened neighbours; something of that sort.
Exhaustion or deprivation in Romanesque fantasy is more likely to be as the result of being at the end of a supply line, or having struggled for a great cause.
The Romanesque might be bounded on one side with the Dark Ages and on the other with the Twelfth Century Renaissance.
Questions the Reader may ask: Is this really a relevant genre or just a silly intellectual game? Is it worth considering? Could it become something? Would you like to know more? Comment away.
 |
| Many images courtesy of Wikipedia. |
...Gothic architecture....
 |
| Reims Cathedral |
....or the fiction or the architecture of the Goths.
 |
| The Mausoleum of Theoderic in Ravenna |
Let us say that it is characterised by (among other things) darkness, some level of decadence, a static culture or scenario in which the characters of the story find themselves, some air of the macabre and the potential for wonder and terror. (Maybe you think this is to over-egg the pudding; perhaps you feel it doesn't go far enough. If you have feel either way, you hopefully have a sufficient notion of the Gothic with which to proceed.)
Gothic architecture (and/or the revival thereof) played some role in conjuring this all up. Gothic architecture does not just mean 'Medieval'; it responds to a particular type and time. Maybe not a type and time as neatly defined as the reign of a King, but a type and time nonetheless.
What if one goes to the predecessor of Gothic architecture, the Romanesque? If you are not familiar with it, take yourself over to Wikipedia. Examples may appear throughout this post.
 |
| Maria Lach Abbey |
Romanesque fantasy is not about decadence, nor is it static. It is robust and growing, rather than hesitant and newborn. There is expansion.
Romanesque fantasy might be among or inspired by the ruins of the past, but it transcends them. It is not bound by them, nor is it devoted to them.
The cultural, political or other vital institutions of the state in Romanesque fantasy are vital. They might be top-heavy, but they are not moribund. Their scope is broad, but not utterly permeable. New ideas are able to emerge, but not without a struggle - and not where they might threaten what has been won.
Crusades might occur; Inquisitions would not.
Romanesque fantasy is robust, rather than delicate. It is not perfectly agreeable to the human. However, it is not bewildering in scope, nor narrow in body.
The Romanesque hero is somewhat like Charlemagne: a conquerer and a builder. If the Romanesque hero is on the back foot, or lesser in scope, he might be like Alfred the Great.
 |
| The Palatine Chapel of Charlemagne's Palace in Aachen |
Conan the Barbarian is too primeval to be a Romanesque protagonist; Elric of Melnibone is too decadent. King Arthur is doomed to fail. Sir Galahad has his eyes set rather higher than heroism. Achilles is too much the fighter. John Carter is unmoored from his time and place. D'Artagnan is too much the rogue. If Prince Caspian is too rooted in Civil War in the book of the same name, he might be somewhat Romanesque in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Aragorn is not of Gondor in quite the way a Romanesque hero might be.
Speaking of Gondor, there is something definitely Romanesque about Minas Tirith - or might be in some tales from Middle-Earth. Note that Gondor's armies are varied, coming from a wide range of provinces and cultures (even forgetting allies such as Rohan) [See the arrival of the Captains of the Outlands, Dol Amroth, &c.]. It might be argued that Gondor's ruins define it too heavily, but a Romanesque fantasy is not devoid of ruin (why else reference Rome?). However, ruin must not master that world, though it might harry it.
 |
| From Peter Jackson's motion picture adaptation of The Return of the King. Interiors.... |
 |
| ...and exteriors. Gothic it isn't. While searching for those, I found this relevant site. Consume at your leisure. |
The Romanesque hero cannot just be a warrior. He is a King or Lord, which may well have a martial aspect.
In Romanesque fantasy, there is work to be done, relatively nearby. Within your own continent, there are dangerous frontiers; pagan barbarians, unsettled land, threatened neighbours; something of that sort.
 |
| Trier Cathedral |
Exhaustion or deprivation in Romanesque fantasy is more likely to be as the result of being at the end of a supply line, or having struggled for a great cause.
The Romanesque might be bounded on one side with the Dark Ages and on the other with the Twelfth Century Renaissance.
Questions the Reader may ask: Is this really a relevant genre or just a silly intellectual game? Is it worth considering? Could it become something? Would you like to know more? Comment away.
Friday, 9 February 2018
David Eddings: A Useful Source
On the basis that somebody has to do it, here it is. How one may apply bits of David Eddings to fantasy RPGs in interesting ways. The impetus to do so come from this article. (Really, do read this first, comments and all).
I am going to work on the Belgariad and the Mallorean, to limit the scope of things somewhat.
Is this meant to make you run out and read these books? By no means. But if it is part of the canon of fantasy literature, why not mine from this seam for one's RPGs?
0) The Rivan Codex
Why is the Zeroth point? Because it's cheating, if you will.
The Rivan Codex, in this context, is the name of a book of David Eddings's notes, world building, in-universe literature for the Belgariad and Mallorean - and his advice to authors. If you've ever thought Eddings was formulaic, this is where you find his formula (quite literally).
Either way, this is a source for world-building. Currency, dress, manners, forms of address can all be found here (whether or not they made their way to the books). In-universe religious scriptures are also available. If you needed to bring into being a society in-universe rapidly, this would be a decent crib with which to do so.
It was available as a paperback in Britain about a decade ago, so I shouldn't imagine it will be too difficult to find if you want it.
1) The alignment of deities to Peoples
The deities of the Belgariad and Mallorean are all aligned to a given nation. Fantasy RPGs all seem to rather opt for a form of monotheism on a somewhat Abrahamic model or something Hellenic - or some combination thereof. Either way, worship is available to all rather than having some measure of exclusion or cultural boundary about it. Perhaps so that the Half-Orc Chaotic Good Cleric of Kypris can be on speaking terms with the Drow Neutral Evil Cleric of Scylla.
However, this alignment offers a certain chthonic or archaic flavour of theology to proceedings. It tones down the interlinked world of trade and metropolises in favour of isolation, distance and pockets of unthought strangeness.
2) Caste and divisions of Peoples
Of these nations, affiliated to deities or otherwise, a number are divided up from a common origin. Several on the side of good derive from the sons of a hero-patriarch ancestor. Those on the side of evil, from the denizens of a city, exiled by their mad god.
National characteristics or castes aren't necessarily an obsession of the books in question, but they appear nonetheless. It could offer a certain historical-cultural depth or sense of time to a setting to have inhabitants have this to refer back to - and it isn't quite something I've seen elsewhere.
3) Merchants and Drasnia
Merchants keep playing a part in these tales; I won't say they are central, but Eddings tried in the time in which he was writing to play up the roles of a trade that he thought hadn't been displayed by the genre at that point. Perhaps things have changed. However, this still applies to the world you may be building - is it just made up of wizards and warriors? If so, is there a good reason?
Eddings's resident mercantile nation is thankfully not terribly reminiscent of Venice. Indeed, it is barely even sea-faring. Drasnia is northerly, cold and largely land-locked. It is famed for heavy infantry in battle. Early notes portray it as herding reindeer. A semi-Russian flavour hangs over elements of it, though not to the point of samovars, Soviets or tsars. The merchants of Drasnia all tie into the foreign intelligence departments of this kingdom, which seems a little heavy handed but can perhaps be forgiven. It is the easterly trade routes that sustain these merchants.
Drasnia seems like it should be quietly hooked onto other worlds as a form of contrast. I would characterise it as having a sort of quiet dynamism that contrasts with some rather manic depictions of mercantile bustle. Perhaps this appeals.
4) Demon-worshipping Tribes
There is an episode towards the end of the Belgariad in which our hero and two others must separate from the larger forces of justice and make their way across a dozen tundra. The tundra is inhabited by those tribes of races that were not adopted by any given deity. They have instead turned to summoning demons as protectors and totems of their particular tribe.
This calls out for a hexcrawl. A slow progress over difficult terrain, with hostile forces wielding unstable magics. The frozen ground dotted by totems and anti-demonic markings or trail signs. In the Belgariad, our heroes must rely on guile, despite their power. Perhaps this is an interesting mechanical usage: you might be level ten, but for the time being it will be most useful if you pretend to be level three. Fancy sword-play or potent magics will clearly demonstrate that you are a person of mickle might, and one to be watched - hence it will blow your cover.
5) Murgo gold
This makes an appearance in the early books of the Belgariad. The red gold of the Murgos (the most warlike of the nations serving the mad god Torak) is known for its quantity and its way of finding itself in hands of the corruptible - from whence it calls to its fellows and kindles greed for more in the heart of its owner.
Murgo gold, or something much like it, seems an excellent concept to employ in fantasy RPGs; a commonplace cursed treasure, detectable only by those in the know. What could be a more fitting thing to come out of a ruined, cursed place? A secondary, murky currency for the underworld or a burden for an adventurer - Murgo gold could be a useful mechanical addition to a game.
***
In closing this little missive, I should like to take a moment to note the quiet interest of dipping into The Rivan Codex and reading a little about Eddings himself. I have kept his books on my shelves, even where others have been removed. Even if this article, that which inspired it, and indeed my own view on his work comes from a place of relative detachment or even antipathy, I would not deny the man's success or that he was possessed of some skill as a teller of tales. David Eddings and his wife and long-time literary collaborator Leigh Eddings seem to have been the sort of All-American talented folk that appear in Neal Stephenson books. Part of me would like to know more about them - and, I suspect, to thank them.
I am going to work on the Belgariad and the Mallorean, to limit the scope of things somewhat.
Is this meant to make you run out and read these books? By no means. But if it is part of the canon of fantasy literature, why not mine from this seam for one's RPGs?
0) The Rivan Codex
Why is the Zeroth point? Because it's cheating, if you will.
The Rivan Codex, in this context, is the name of a book of David Eddings's notes, world building, in-universe literature for the Belgariad and Mallorean - and his advice to authors. If you've ever thought Eddings was formulaic, this is where you find his formula (quite literally).
Either way, this is a source for world-building. Currency, dress, manners, forms of address can all be found here (whether or not they made their way to the books). In-universe religious scriptures are also available. If you needed to bring into being a society in-universe rapidly, this would be a decent crib with which to do so.
It was available as a paperback in Britain about a decade ago, so I shouldn't imagine it will be too difficult to find if you want it.
1) The alignment of deities to Peoples
The deities of the Belgariad and Mallorean are all aligned to a given nation. Fantasy RPGs all seem to rather opt for a form of monotheism on a somewhat Abrahamic model or something Hellenic - or some combination thereof. Either way, worship is available to all rather than having some measure of exclusion or cultural boundary about it. Perhaps so that the Half-Orc Chaotic Good Cleric of Kypris can be on speaking terms with the Drow Neutral Evil Cleric of Scylla.
However, this alignment offers a certain chthonic or archaic flavour of theology to proceedings. It tones down the interlinked world of trade and metropolises in favour of isolation, distance and pockets of unthought strangeness.
2) Caste and divisions of Peoples
Of these nations, affiliated to deities or otherwise, a number are divided up from a common origin. Several on the side of good derive from the sons of a hero-patriarch ancestor. Those on the side of evil, from the denizens of a city, exiled by their mad god.
National characteristics or castes aren't necessarily an obsession of the books in question, but they appear nonetheless. It could offer a certain historical-cultural depth or sense of time to a setting to have inhabitants have this to refer back to - and it isn't quite something I've seen elsewhere.
3) Merchants and Drasnia
Merchants keep playing a part in these tales; I won't say they are central, but Eddings tried in the time in which he was writing to play up the roles of a trade that he thought hadn't been displayed by the genre at that point. Perhaps things have changed. However, this still applies to the world you may be building - is it just made up of wizards and warriors? If so, is there a good reason?
Eddings's resident mercantile nation is thankfully not terribly reminiscent of Venice. Indeed, it is barely even sea-faring. Drasnia is northerly, cold and largely land-locked. It is famed for heavy infantry in battle. Early notes portray it as herding reindeer. A semi-Russian flavour hangs over elements of it, though not to the point of samovars, Soviets or tsars. The merchants of Drasnia all tie into the foreign intelligence departments of this kingdom, which seems a little heavy handed but can perhaps be forgiven. It is the easterly trade routes that sustain these merchants.
Drasnia seems like it should be quietly hooked onto other worlds as a form of contrast. I would characterise it as having a sort of quiet dynamism that contrasts with some rather manic depictions of mercantile bustle. Perhaps this appeals.
4) Demon-worshipping Tribes
There is an episode towards the end of the Belgariad in which our hero and two others must separate from the larger forces of justice and make their way across a dozen tundra. The tundra is inhabited by those tribes of races that were not adopted by any given deity. They have instead turned to summoning demons as protectors and totems of their particular tribe.
This calls out for a hexcrawl. A slow progress over difficult terrain, with hostile forces wielding unstable magics. The frozen ground dotted by totems and anti-demonic markings or trail signs. In the Belgariad, our heroes must rely on guile, despite their power. Perhaps this is an interesting mechanical usage: you might be level ten, but for the time being it will be most useful if you pretend to be level three. Fancy sword-play or potent magics will clearly demonstrate that you are a person of mickle might, and one to be watched - hence it will blow your cover.
5) Murgo gold
This makes an appearance in the early books of the Belgariad. The red gold of the Murgos (the most warlike of the nations serving the mad god Torak) is known for its quantity and its way of finding itself in hands of the corruptible - from whence it calls to its fellows and kindles greed for more in the heart of its owner.
Murgo gold, or something much like it, seems an excellent concept to employ in fantasy RPGs; a commonplace cursed treasure, detectable only by those in the know. What could be a more fitting thing to come out of a ruined, cursed place? A secondary, murky currency for the underworld or a burden for an adventurer - Murgo gold could be a useful mechanical addition to a game.
***
In closing this little missive, I should like to take a moment to note the quiet interest of dipping into The Rivan Codex and reading a little about Eddings himself. I have kept his books on my shelves, even where others have been removed. Even if this article, that which inspired it, and indeed my own view on his work comes from a place of relative detachment or even antipathy, I would not deny the man's success or that he was possessed of some skill as a teller of tales. David Eddings and his wife and long-time literary collaborator Leigh Eddings seem to have been the sort of All-American talented folk that appear in Neal Stephenson books. Part of me would like to know more about them - and, I suspect, to thank them.
Saturday, 3 February 2018
Sphinxes and Sepulchres
A thought: Sphinxes are Mammalian dragons.
Allow me to explain the thought process. Four-legged beast, of vast size. Human or human-like intelligence - hence riddles. Combines aspects of different real animals. A guardian of treasure hordes? Perhaps not as such, but the 'Giza -> Pyramids -> Pharaohs -> Tomb treasures' connection is at this point a difficult track not to go down.
What does this mean? Well, first of all, let us spin this into something larger. Perhaps through a recent few posts at Coins and Scrolls.
Sphinxes come in many forms. The most well-known is a winged lion with a human head - the andro-or gyno-sphinx.
Others are known: ram-headed criosphinxes, falcon-headed hieracosphinxes. Some are merely rumours - jackal sphinxes, scarab-headed sphinxes (as Khepri).
What is the truth of this?
SPHINXES
The human-headed sphinx is the most charming and persuasive of sphinx-kind. It is the most prone to entering into wider society, but does so as a dragon might: with a firm awareness of it's own strength and superior status. It is also the most persuasive of sphinxes - at least to most humanoids. They glow, even in their human parts. They have largely given up the riddle game; it is considered either gauche or deeply dangerous to inquire about it.
Disposition: aristocratic, aloof, persuasive, charismatic.
Common hoards: coins, books of law, deeds and contracts, ledgers.
Breath/Bestowal: Clouds/Acquiescence
[In that the sphinx is not usually depicted as breathing fire, and in that I wanted to keep up the dragon angle, there is an 'and/or' selection - a physical effect, like fire, or something more abstract. The sphinx 'bestows an air of ____' and can direct this somehow, for use to their advantage. Pick and choose your poison.]
The criosphinx is often given over to religious impulses. It has the time and nous to embark on theological journeys mankind never could. A meditating criosphinx is deeply impressive; the horns and the fleece carry a rather priest-like air. This can, of course, go very badly wrong depending on what they worship.
Disposition: thoughtful, thorough, very still, fervent, given to pontificating.
Common hoards: relics, religious texts, prophets, religious art, iconoclasts (to destroy the wrong kind of art..)
Breath/Bestowal: ball lightening/universal semi-mystical perspective (you may not as such see anything that you didn't see before, but you are aware of the music of the spheres or what have you and the movement of the earth).
[If you wish, goat-headed sphinxes could appear. These are the same as criosphinxes, but somewhat more sinister.]
A hieracosphinx is ultimately a physcial, warlike beast. The strength of it's own will and limbs satisfy it above other things. They can be persuaded into battle - but that have never been called great strategists.
Disposition: clipped speech, laconic, scornful, restless, sardonic
Common hoards: trophies, flags, weapons, sporting goods; gladiators and athletes to demonstrate the latter.
Breath/Bestowal: Whirlwinds/Vertigo
One may encounter a jackal-headed sphinx. They lack the charm of some of their compatriots; less focused, less serene. They are not, as such, scavengers or parasites - but they do recognise that humanity (and the short-lived races as a whole) throw away a lot of stuff, which they can make use of- and are fascinated by. Although they are still relatively discerning, rather than accumulating piles of potshards. If you will, they do not live up to their fullest sphinx potential. Inveterate takers of shortcuts and hirers of mercenaries. Not, that is, that they cannot fight. A jackal sphinx is still a sphinx.
Disposition: indulgent, chatty, crafty, gregarious, opportunistic, relatively generous - they'll get it all back in good time.
Common hoards: bones, reliquaries, funerary gear, 'unconsidered trifles', exiles, beggars, outlaws
Breath/Bestowal: Sandstorms/Awareness of mortality
The scarab-headed sphinx has a relation for being largely incomprehensible and entirely aware of this. Do not compare this to riddles; there is no perfect solution. Nor are they, as we might think of it, tricksters - who often seem to have a goal, generally at your expense. The scarab-headed sphinx does not seek to set traps for you - despising as they do such an artificial form of mystery - but will rarely explain anything in a useful manner. Instead of just mentioning something you don't quite understand, they might somehow enable a connection between people that don't understand one another, or possess bewildering devices you can access freely. They are, quite simply, fascinated by that which people cannot understand - often including themselves. You might think of them as anthropologists or connoisseurs of bafflement.
This has led to them being touted as the ultimate in exotic experiences - but pleasure seekers are disappointed. A scarab-headed sphinx is far more likely to serve a very ordinary meal according to entirely unfamiliar social rules than it is to serve up a dish made with spices and viands from far-off lands. If you can bring them something that they struggle to entirely comprehend (with all their years of experience), they are likely to be thankful and not introduce you to alien folk who think that you have insulted them in some way very difficult to explain.
Disposition: scrupulously neutral, polite, inquisitive if directly engaged.
Common hoards: mediative images, multi-layered religious or philosophical allegories, strange tales of other lands (and recorders of the same), things out of place - either spatially, temporally or dimensionally.
Breath/Bestowal: Locusts/Hunger
An ox-headed sphinx (taurosphinx? bovosphinx?) is basically really quite pleasant and social. It may not be entirely convenient to have a sphinx in town, but you'll adjust. It will help you. You and your descendants will rely on its help. It likes plenty, prosperity, people raising families. Naturally, it hates adventurers. The more flexible will allow them some sort of deputy status with the local Watch or Guard or what-have-you. If you are down on your luck and after a home, that's fine. But your sword gets beaten into a plowshare or hang up above the mantle; you throw away the eldritch tomes. They may not be tyrants, but they have little time for the libertine. It is worth noting that they do not always choose human communities to make their homes in.
Disposition: friendly, like a schoolteacher; benevolent, well mannered (if they are coarse, it will be like a friendly innkeeper, not a sordid thug).
Common hoards: wealth - but productive or functional wealth - granaries, long standing tenant farmers, tools. You can imagine them keeping coins to invest or use after a fashion - whilst hating venture capitalists. Folk to operate all of the above; agriculturalists, industrialists or urban planners.
Breath/Bestowal: Milk and Honey/Herd instinct.
THOSE WHO FOLLOW SPHINXES
[or, The Sphinx-Spawned.]
Operating on this model, also linked above, we might ask what do the servants of sphinxes are like - whilst still working on the 'mammalian dragon' notion.
The kobold equivalent become servile, if semi-independant. I suggest that heightening the canine characteristics of kobolds is the way to go about this. From this, a hierarchy of dog-kobolds asserts itself; curs, hounds, and other such titles. Likewise, kobolds gain specialities (kobold retriever, seeing-eye kobold, Portuguese water kobold, St Bernards kobold). At one end of the implications of this, we see sphinxes breeding their own guard dogs - and the sphinx equivalent of Crufts and the Kennel Club.
A parallel to the Dragonborn is perhaps a humanoid with wider mammalian or avian features: a change of limbs, a different head, claws or talons. A resemblance to the Ancient Egyptian pantheon seems about correct - though put through a relatively martial wringer; as in something like Age of Mythology. Not being a deity herself, this hypothetical ibis-headed lady does in fact require armour, however tough the gifts of the sphinx may have made her.
As to the Servants or Sycophants of sphinxes, I can say little. They are as liable to be varied as sphinxes themselves. They are perhaps less liable to be outright power-worshippers than the servants of dragons. If we wanted to continue the Pharaonic pastiche, it is not at all unsurprising that they might preserve their bodies for use after death, much as mummies, knowing that their spirits might linger or be called back to continue their duties. The Dragonborn equivalents above might become part of this, death transforming them from warriors to courtiers. Mummification might especially be prevalent among the jackal-headed sphinxes - some of who probably possess armies that could give the Tomb Kings a run for their money.
SO WHAT ABOUT THESE SEPULCHRES?
[Or, The Dreadful Conclusion]
Partway through this, something occurred to me.
Dungeons and Dragons - or at any rate, a certain stereotype thereof - involves humanoid mammalian races going underground into sprawling dungeon complexes to fight with reptilian races and face off against an uber-reptile in the form of a dragon.
Lizardmen, goblins, kobolds, gorgons, wyverns, yuan-ti - all waiting for you in the labyrinth du jour. (Orcs, partaking of the natures of pig and lizard are anathema to both mammals and reptiles). The insidious elder race snakemen share in this especially.
Therefore, let the entire thing be inverted. Instead of fantasy Medieval Europe, full of humanoid races, the setting is in the tropics - which might be yet more Ancient Egypt, but let us not get tied to that concept more than we already have. This is inhabited by reptilian humanoids: the common lizard-folk, the snake men settling into the Elven elder-race nook, squat armoured crocodile people instead of Dwarves, sneaky chameleon-men instead of gnomes - and anything from this list if you want to get even stranger.
Adventurers from these kindreds - who are noble, virtuous, benign souls, or at least to the same extent as any player race in D&D - are assailed by creatures from the caves, that cannot stand the heat of the day and must lurk in the cold and damp. The most insidious even build lairs in the sewers and necropolises of the great cities. The brave and the foolhardy go down into the depths to drive out and confront these wretches, for money, glory or experience.
In the deepest and darkest of sepulchres, they may even encounter the dreadful sphinxes; cunning amalgams of beast and man, possessed of speech and silver tongues, of prodigious size and strength....
[This has become dreadfully silly. My apologies to anyone I've referenced!]
Allow me to explain the thought process. Four-legged beast, of vast size. Human or human-like intelligence - hence riddles. Combines aspects of different real animals. A guardian of treasure hordes? Perhaps not as such, but the 'Giza -> Pyramids -> Pharaohs -> Tomb treasures' connection is at this point a difficult track not to go down.
What does this mean? Well, first of all, let us spin this into something larger. Perhaps through a recent few posts at Coins and Scrolls.
Sphinxes come in many forms. The most well-known is a winged lion with a human head - the andro-or gyno-sphinx.
Others are known: ram-headed criosphinxes, falcon-headed hieracosphinxes. Some are merely rumours - jackal sphinxes, scarab-headed sphinxes (as Khepri).
What is the truth of this?
SPHINXES
The human-headed sphinx is the most charming and persuasive of sphinx-kind. It is the most prone to entering into wider society, but does so as a dragon might: with a firm awareness of it's own strength and superior status. It is also the most persuasive of sphinxes - at least to most humanoids. They glow, even in their human parts. They have largely given up the riddle game; it is considered either gauche or deeply dangerous to inquire about it.
Disposition: aristocratic, aloof, persuasive, charismatic.
Common hoards: coins, books of law, deeds and contracts, ledgers.
Breath/Bestowal: Clouds/Acquiescence
[In that the sphinx is not usually depicted as breathing fire, and in that I wanted to keep up the dragon angle, there is an 'and/or' selection - a physical effect, like fire, or something more abstract. The sphinx 'bestows an air of ____' and can direct this somehow, for use to their advantage. Pick and choose your poison.]
The criosphinx is often given over to religious impulses. It has the time and nous to embark on theological journeys mankind never could. A meditating criosphinx is deeply impressive; the horns and the fleece carry a rather priest-like air. This can, of course, go very badly wrong depending on what they worship.
Disposition: thoughtful, thorough, very still, fervent, given to pontificating.
Common hoards: relics, religious texts, prophets, religious art, iconoclasts (to destroy the wrong kind of art..)
Breath/Bestowal: ball lightening/universal semi-mystical perspective (you may not as such see anything that you didn't see before, but you are aware of the music of the spheres or what have you and the movement of the earth).
[If you wish, goat-headed sphinxes could appear. These are the same as criosphinxes, but somewhat more sinister.]
A hieracosphinx is ultimately a physcial, warlike beast. The strength of it's own will and limbs satisfy it above other things. They can be persuaded into battle - but that have never been called great strategists.
Disposition: clipped speech, laconic, scornful, restless, sardonic
Common hoards: trophies, flags, weapons, sporting goods; gladiators and athletes to demonstrate the latter.
Breath/Bestowal: Whirlwinds/Vertigo
One may encounter a jackal-headed sphinx. They lack the charm of some of their compatriots; less focused, less serene. They are not, as such, scavengers or parasites - but they do recognise that humanity (and the short-lived races as a whole) throw away a lot of stuff, which they can make use of- and are fascinated by. Although they are still relatively discerning, rather than accumulating piles of potshards. If you will, they do not live up to their fullest sphinx potential. Inveterate takers of shortcuts and hirers of mercenaries. Not, that is, that they cannot fight. A jackal sphinx is still a sphinx.
Disposition: indulgent, chatty, crafty, gregarious, opportunistic, relatively generous - they'll get it all back in good time.
Common hoards: bones, reliquaries, funerary gear, 'unconsidered trifles', exiles, beggars, outlaws
Breath/Bestowal: Sandstorms/Awareness of mortality
The scarab-headed sphinx has a relation for being largely incomprehensible and entirely aware of this. Do not compare this to riddles; there is no perfect solution. Nor are they, as we might think of it, tricksters - who often seem to have a goal, generally at your expense. The scarab-headed sphinx does not seek to set traps for you - despising as they do such an artificial form of mystery - but will rarely explain anything in a useful manner. Instead of just mentioning something you don't quite understand, they might somehow enable a connection between people that don't understand one another, or possess bewildering devices you can access freely. They are, quite simply, fascinated by that which people cannot understand - often including themselves. You might think of them as anthropologists or connoisseurs of bafflement.
This has led to them being touted as the ultimate in exotic experiences - but pleasure seekers are disappointed. A scarab-headed sphinx is far more likely to serve a very ordinary meal according to entirely unfamiliar social rules than it is to serve up a dish made with spices and viands from far-off lands. If you can bring them something that they struggle to entirely comprehend (with all their years of experience), they are likely to be thankful and not introduce you to alien folk who think that you have insulted them in some way very difficult to explain.
Disposition: scrupulously neutral, polite, inquisitive if directly engaged.
Common hoards: mediative images, multi-layered religious or philosophical allegories, strange tales of other lands (and recorders of the same), things out of place - either spatially, temporally or dimensionally.
Breath/Bestowal: Locusts/Hunger
An ox-headed sphinx (taurosphinx? bovosphinx?) is basically really quite pleasant and social. It may not be entirely convenient to have a sphinx in town, but you'll adjust. It will help you. You and your descendants will rely on its help. It likes plenty, prosperity, people raising families. Naturally, it hates adventurers. The more flexible will allow them some sort of deputy status with the local Watch or Guard or what-have-you. If you are down on your luck and after a home, that's fine. But your sword gets beaten into a plowshare or hang up above the mantle; you throw away the eldritch tomes. They may not be tyrants, but they have little time for the libertine. It is worth noting that they do not always choose human communities to make their homes in.
Disposition: friendly, like a schoolteacher; benevolent, well mannered (if they are coarse, it will be like a friendly innkeeper, not a sordid thug).
Common hoards: wealth - but productive or functional wealth - granaries, long standing tenant farmers, tools. You can imagine them keeping coins to invest or use after a fashion - whilst hating venture capitalists. Folk to operate all of the above; agriculturalists, industrialists or urban planners.
Breath/Bestowal: Milk and Honey/Herd instinct.
THOSE WHO FOLLOW SPHINXES
[or, The Sphinx-Spawned.]
Operating on this model, also linked above, we might ask what do the servants of sphinxes are like - whilst still working on the 'mammalian dragon' notion.
The kobold equivalent become servile, if semi-independant. I suggest that heightening the canine characteristics of kobolds is the way to go about this. From this, a hierarchy of dog-kobolds asserts itself; curs, hounds, and other such titles. Likewise, kobolds gain specialities (kobold retriever, seeing-eye kobold, Portuguese water kobold, St Bernards kobold). At one end of the implications of this, we see sphinxes breeding their own guard dogs - and the sphinx equivalent of Crufts and the Kennel Club.
A parallel to the Dragonborn is perhaps a humanoid with wider mammalian or avian features: a change of limbs, a different head, claws or talons. A resemblance to the Ancient Egyptian pantheon seems about correct - though put through a relatively martial wringer; as in something like Age of Mythology. Not being a deity herself, this hypothetical ibis-headed lady does in fact require armour, however tough the gifts of the sphinx may have made her.
As to the Servants or Sycophants of sphinxes, I can say little. They are as liable to be varied as sphinxes themselves. They are perhaps less liable to be outright power-worshippers than the servants of dragons. If we wanted to continue the Pharaonic pastiche, it is not at all unsurprising that they might preserve their bodies for use after death, much as mummies, knowing that their spirits might linger or be called back to continue their duties. The Dragonborn equivalents above might become part of this, death transforming them from warriors to courtiers. Mummification might especially be prevalent among the jackal-headed sphinxes - some of who probably possess armies that could give the Tomb Kings a run for their money.
 |
| Behind them, off to the left somewhere, is a jackal-headed sphinx saying "Go to 'em, lads!" - or words to that effect. |
SO WHAT ABOUT THESE SEPULCHRES?
[Or, The Dreadful Conclusion]
Partway through this, something occurred to me.
Dungeons and Dragons - or at any rate, a certain stereotype thereof - involves humanoid mammalian races going underground into sprawling dungeon complexes to fight with reptilian races and face off against an uber-reptile in the form of a dragon.
Lizardmen, goblins, kobolds, gorgons, wyverns, yuan-ti - all waiting for you in the labyrinth du jour. (Orcs, partaking of the natures of pig and lizard are anathema to both mammals and reptiles). The insidious elder race snakemen share in this especially.
Therefore, let the entire thing be inverted. Instead of fantasy Medieval Europe, full of humanoid races, the setting is in the tropics - which might be yet more Ancient Egypt, but let us not get tied to that concept more than we already have. This is inhabited by reptilian humanoids: the common lizard-folk, the snake men settling into the Elven elder-race nook, squat armoured crocodile people instead of Dwarves, sneaky chameleon-men instead of gnomes - and anything from this list if you want to get even stranger.
Adventurers from these kindreds - who are noble, virtuous, benign souls, or at least to the same extent as any player race in D&D - are assailed by creatures from the caves, that cannot stand the heat of the day and must lurk in the cold and damp. The most insidious even build lairs in the sewers and necropolises of the great cities. The brave and the foolhardy go down into the depths to drive out and confront these wretches, for money, glory or experience.
In the deepest and darkest of sepulchres, they may even encounter the dreadful sphinxes; cunning amalgams of beast and man, possessed of speech and silver tongues, of prodigious size and strength....
[This has become dreadfully silly. My apologies to anyone I've referenced!]
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