Now We're Feeling Zombified

Another excerpt from my Encounter Critical project, Gods From Outer Space, which matches handily with Jonathan of The Core Mechanic's RPG Blog Carnival. For those wandering by who might be unfamiliar, you can find a review of the gonzo gamer's wonderland that is Encounter Critical here. Visit the game's webpage here to download the game for nil, nada, zip, zilch, zero -- that's free, dig?

Zombies of Vanth

One of the least understood races of Vanth is the zombie. Symbiotic spores from space? A black magic curse spreading across the land? Cannibal spirits in human form? Or merely victims of a severe life deficiency? The answer is unknown -- as is often the case on the planet Vanth, seekers after the truth are advised to hedge their bets and mark their answer sheet 'all of the above.'

Despite common myth, it is known that they are not undead like vampires and mummies, since strictly speaking true zombies are never alive in the first place. Their curious biology has so far been impenetrable to scientific inquiry. They do not breathe and have no pulse yet they require sustenance and are as vulnerable to magic and disease as other humanoids. They breed true among their own colonies, but have been known to mate with all of the common races of Vanth.

Most Zombies dwell in the Holdings of their Unnamed Princess, who is said to be an ancient yet ageless Warlock. Her appetites at the banquet table and in the boudoir are legendary and strange. Her Holdings are notably rich, and caravans happily brave the Goblin Hills and the Empire of Darth Viraxis to trade with the zombies. Despite the fortunes to be made in the Princess's lands, the prudent merchant is never without a steel skullcap to discourage the wilder and more ravenous of her subjects.

Known as the Burial Playground of the Eastern Shore, the green and rolling coast of the Zombie Holdings is a vast cemetery. The hillsides are kept in perfect order, a tidy necropolis of stones and monuments from every faith and kindred stretching for fifty miles or more. Folks from every corner of Vanth come here to enjoy the beaches and bury their dead.

Zombie Player Characters

Ability adjustments: -1 DEX, -2 LEA, +1 ROB, +1 STR.
In addition a zombie gains +30% to Consume Alien Food, +15% to Survival, and +5% to Psi-Resist. All true zombies have the mutation Cannibal Urges; zombie hybrids have a 50% chance of this mutation. How assiduously they resist their hunger is up to the individual but it's worth mentioning that zombies must consume raw living flesh to properly balance their diets.

In some cases a non-zombie character may be resurrected as a zombie hybrid. For instance, a character with the Zombie Gene mutation will rise as a zombie hybrid if he or she is reduced to 0 Hit Points and survives. More rarely, a zombie rebirth might occur due to curse, affliction or necromantic locales. In these circumstances the JM might require the PC to adventure for a time as a simple living dead (HP 1-12, DAM 1-4, Save 10%, low Intellect) before achieving full zombiehood.

MP3: Oingo Boingo, Dead Man's Party [Party 'til You're Dead Mix] (Compact Disc - Download)
MP3: Green Monster, Zombie Party Rock (Myspace)

Warlock Mimes: BHMK excerpt

Silent Killers

Tall and long-limbed, the warlock mimes are slender humanoids of unknown species and origin. They dress in close fitting white and black striped clothing. Like all members of the Black Hole Metal Kult their faces are white and etched with black runes and symbols, but in the case of the mimes this is not corpespaint but their natural complexion. They never speak, but their faces are incredibly expressive and they move with exaggerated yet fluid gestures. Their eyes, however, are blank and untouched by emotion.

The mimes are a mystery even to the leaders of the Kult, who rely on their mystical abilities but do not fully trust them. One is male, the other female. The other kultists speculate they are brother and sister, or lovers, or both, but none know for sure. One thing that is certain is the sadistic enthusiasm with which the mimes participate in kultic rites.

As noted, the warlock mimes never speak or vocalize in any way -- indeed they make hardly a sound at all, moving in near complete silence at all times. Their spells and magic are worked using somatic gestures only (The unabashed JM is encouraged to act this out, and might even consider charades if an attempt to parley is made).

Ximox, the male, knows the spells Fire Blast, Trapped in a Box (victim is trapped in an airless, slowly shrinking cube), and Howling Wind (blast of wind impedes movement). Xomix, the female, knows Spectral Body, Masque of the Mummen (mask projects incapacitating emotion such as maniacal laughter or sniveling terror against one foe), and Mocking Mirror (imitation of one foe's actions is so annoying and distracting that it causes a penalty to all attacks, skills, and saves).



The Warlock Cafe

MP3: Varis, Roussin, Torchinsky, & Mahieux, Reve Bohemien (Compact Disc)

This room is furnished in the style of a charming streetside cafe, with a cobbled floor and tables and chairs to seat up to ten people. Sunbeetles in glass jars give the room a sunny afternoon glow. A vase of cut flowers stands on each table, and potted ferns and ficus trees add a touch of greenery. A low raised stage takes up the eastern third of the room. A concertina rests there on a stool. At any given time there will be from 2-7 people here, seeming at first glance to be having a lovely time.

A closer look will show that everything about the room is a horrid lie. The cracks between the cobblestones are stained with gore, and the no amount of cut flowers can completely cover the stink of old blood and filth. The cafe guests are here for the depraved sport of the warlock mimes, who amuse themselves by subjecting their captives to torture and pantomime (which are not, of course, mutually exclusive). The food and drink is drugged to make the captives docile and prone to suggestion. Though they remain conscious of their actions the guests are compelled to do whatever they are asked. Their eyes are glassy, and their feet are nailed to the floor.

After the warlocks perform for them, the captives are sacrificed to the space gods.

The warlock mimes will be found here 30% of the time. They will attempt to hypnotize and interrogate anyone unknown to them using Ensorcel and Read Minds. Those found to be enemies will be attacked using spells. Note that a party may not even be aware of any danger until the mimes strike. Their spellcasting blends seemlessly with their pantomime, appearing to be no more threatening than the attentions of any normal street performer.

MP3: Dead Raven Choir, The Silence (Compact Disc: search 'Selenoclast Wolves')

BHMK: Gods from Outer Space

My dad sells real estate for a living, and every now and he'll pass along something interesting he salvages from a vacant house. Odd bits of knick-knackery, old LPs and paperbacks, etc.

He recently sent me a package containing a brown accordion file labeled "Kelly Pollock - game notes." The file is splitting on the bottom, held together with brittle old tape, and just crammed with gaming stuff: a few early 90s Dragon mags, some Gamma World modules, a copy of Keep on the Borderlands sans cover (just for fun I might have to redraw the maps from memory), pages cut out of a Michigan county almanac annotated with encounter ideas and Pitz Burke style names for the cities, and page after page of loose leaf notes.

The folder also contains, in one of those coincidences so common among EC fans, an incredible collection of Encounter Critical material! Along with a copy of the Second Corrected Edition, there are a couple issues of Daniel David's "Journey Masters Journal," and even the ultra-rare EC module Asteroid 1618, all gathered in a ziplock bag with a price tag from Ludington Goodwill.

Judging from the Dragon issue dates and clues in the notes, this kid was running Encounter Critical as late as 1995! I've never heard of another sighting of the game "in the wild" that late, not till it was rediscovered a few years ago.


And what's more, a bunch of the game notes in the folder are homebrew EC stuff, including a three part adventure, "Gods From Outer Space" The adventure makes it pretty clear that Kelly and his crew were big-time horror fans -- there are references and ripoffs of everything from Lovecraft to Michael Myers to Troma. I've been trying to polish it up for World Adventure Writing Month, but it's in a rougher and more disorganized state than I realized and I keep riffing off it in my own directions, so it won't be finished for a couple more weeks.

In the meantime, I took a few minutes tonight putting together an inspirational mixtape. Some of the songs and bands are namechecked directly in the adventure or Kelly's notes, especially the middle adventure "Black Hole Metal Kult." Others are my own tribute to Kelly and his gonzo crew. Track list after the cut.


Black Hole Metal Kult: Gods from Outer Space

Frank Sinatra - Old Devil Moon
Mayhem - De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas
Dinosaur Jr - Freak Scene
Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians - Brenda's Iron Sledge
Syd Barrett - Clown & Jugglers (Octopus)
Venom - Black Metal
Blue Öyster Cult - Black Blade
Emperor - I Am The Black Wizards
Sonic Youth - Silver Rocket
Hawkwind - Space Is Deep
Tales Of Terror - Gods From Outer Space
The Mountain Goats - The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton

WoAdWriMo Update: Slacker

I gotta confession. Almost from the moment I decided to do something for World Adventure Writing Month I've been stricken with Homework Syndrome: it's this dumb thing where something fun seems like homework as soon as there's even a semi-formal commitment involved.

For example: reading the NYT Book Reviews online or in the paper? Fun and interesting! But subscribing to a daily email update? Two or three of those pile up in my inbox and they become a chore. And so it is with my adventure. Brainstorming encounters and critters and NPCs? Love that pschitt! Writing it all down on like paper or a computer? Shoot, I'll start tomorrow. The Tour de France just started  is in the Pyrennes  is in the Alps.

Boiling it down I guess I'm sort of a lazy dilly-dallier. In the words of Professor Impossible I'm "a daydreamer. A sassmouth! And, not infrequently, a bit of a gigglepuss." So I'm behind. But it's not like I've done nothing. I've got a page of new monsters roughed out and a draft of the first adventure of a three-parter.

And this afternoon I drew up the map for part two. Made a notebook sketch first:


And here's the final map, finished save for shading and numbering. I think it turned out pretty good.


Hey presto, getting the map down on paper has me revved up to start keying it, so here's to progress!

MP3: Meads of Asphodel, Sluts of the Netherworld (Compact Disc)
Here's a song that goes out to Rondo's Graveyard Tramps, who make an appearance on this level.

Forward...to Adventure!

World Adventure Writing Month is go, with spiffy new web digs and a flash new logo!

My temples have been distended with Encounter Critical scenario ideas for months. It's gotten out of hand, to tell you the truth, and it's time to peel back the ole skull and start scooping my brains out onto the page. If all goes well I'll end up with a three-part adventure which will feature a haunted hospital, a sexy robodroid nurse, walking dead, a secret cult in the basement of a clown boxing school, warlock mimes, an ettin and his oak tree blunderbuss, rabble-rousing goblins, and a crooning Frankenstein. Time permitting there may be freight trains and hobos. If it ends with a battle royale at a wedding slash summoning of Things Which Oughtn't Be, well then so much the better.