Fat Cotton Knocks Another One Out Of The Park & AD&D Spell Analysis Request

Another great piece by Fat Cotton, this time for Fight On! magazine...between FO and Petty Gods I'm thrilled to see folks availing themselves of his surreal, whimsical talents!

Also, does anyone know of any online analysis of AD&D spells and their casting times? With all the hobbyist Gygaxian research floating around on the net, someone must have done the number crunching regarding AD&D spells and how many segments it takes to cast them? The discussion regarding The Black Lasher made me realize that I need to include AD&D/OSRIC information with the Gramaree spells in order for full-universal-oldschool D&D utility.

Algolian Artwork

A Vrul battling frogmen; by Fat Cotton.

Ancient abandoned pleasure domes by Chris Huth.

Algolian Artwork - a Dinosaur-Harvesting Tripod, a Draala and The Maggot People

Just a little preview/sample of the artwork from the upcoming Planet Algol booklet:

Fat Cotton
Chris Huth
The Draala (courtesy of the Scroll of Gnom-Bientus)

"Blaster Girl vs Ape Man..."

Fat Cotton's excellent rendition of a Zhaghri Woman blasting an Ape-Man with a fusil.

Steve Zieser Subject of Successful Cloning Program...

...and by that I mean that I get a creepy deja vu when looking at this recent example of Fat Cotton's Artwork, I would have sworn it was a piece by Steve Zieser!

American Barbarica is a pretty Awesome-Stupid blog, and as a fan of Character Portraits-Regardless of Artistic Merit, I am thinking that we all can use more Cellphone Pictures of Character Sheet Portraits.

Although I'm all about "Weridsciencefantasyplanet" right now, there's a couple of blogs that have been doing Yee Olde Traditionyl Phantasie Lande style stuff with an approach I find fresh and exciting. I love the Scurrilous Dung Ages vibe of what I've been seeing of Middenmurk, which achieves the miracle of Making Me Like Halflings. I also adore Ancient Vaults and Eldritch Secrets, which always makes me think of old disney movies on acid! And as a former victim of the "Making the Perfect Fantasy Earth Campaign Setting" obession/madness, it's great seeing that the Tao of D&D is doing exactly that with proper obsessiveness.

Also, I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who already misses Chgowiz's big shiny head. There was a lot of practical oldschool D&D advice/theory on his blog which will be sorely missed...

A Correction, Fat Cotton Fantasy Artiste and a Memorial Tribute

Yesterday I wrote a post about a "Stupid" moment in my game. I should have used the term "Absurd," as in "Coen Brothers-esque Sublime Absurdity." I certainly don't want any of my players operating under the misapprehension that I consider them or our game stupid in any derogatory sense. Often I use the term Stupid to refer to RPG matters in the Jeff Rients-ien fashion:

Stupid games do not take themselves seriously. PCs can die horrible deaths and other grim stuff, but that horrible death might involve being eaten by a horde of zombie chickens. Big dice charts, such as wandering monsters or random mutations, are often associated with this style of game. Most comedy games fall into this category, as do all the good versions of Gamma World. The new editions of Paranoia and WFRP look pretty Stupid to me as well.

Some of my favorite rpg moments have to be when events devolve into beautiful absurdity, and I would never want to discourage players from attempting crazy plans. I heartily approve of improvised sound effects! (and now we know why a cape is worth being on the equipment buying lists!)

As well, I would be remiss to not mention that talented surreal Planet Algol-related illustrator Wesley Fat Cotton now has his own blog to display his artwork.. Although it is slim on the content, it is also new, and hopefully some of you folks in need of an artist for your creative madness will find his style suitable for your project, especially as I know that he is eager to work with some of you crazy internet rpg types!

Also...

CHGOWIZ/OLDGUYRPG BLOG
03/22/2010 - NEVAR FORGET!

The drama is over (Drama Explanation Here!), folks are actually communicating instead of flaming each other, but The Old Guy RPG Blog is Gone! I'm not going to speculate or comment on why Chgowiz withdrew from the community, but I really dug his blog (the solo games with his wife always gave me the warm fuzzies "What A Great Loving Couple!") and I'm sad to see it go. I am also sad that The Tomb of Hulkasarag/The Land of Two Rivers ancient Mesopotamia oldschool D&D project is apparently dead as a result...it would have been a perfect companion to Ancient Kingdoms: Mesopotamia. There would have been no "Black Ziggurat Madness" without Chgowiz either!

Good luck and best wishes to Chgowiz...you will be missed.

Saturday Saw-Bearifying

Courtesy of Robin Ruddock, Jeff Rients and Dilvashti the Carrion Sculptor is the "Saw-Bear," former guardian beast of the Tower of the Twin Sky Masters.

As an aside, it is very gratifying to see that Lester/B. Portly, the "Erol Otus" of the trio of core Planet Algol artists, has been doing some work with other fellows of the OSR. I encourage anyone with a need for quality fantasy art to contact Lester/B. Portly, "Sutherland"/Robin Ruddock or "Trampier"/Fat Cotton, and commission their considerable talents for your project.

The Journal of the Sage and Red Box Vancouver!

Due to formatting weirdness, two "in character" posts by Fat Cotton that I just published are located in the clutter of older posts. Read them here and here.

As well, I am aglow with hometown pride that Vancouver now has It's Own Red Box Campaign! We're a big city like New York now! I would love to join in, but my other commitments (playing kill-your-mother music; getting up at 5:30 for work; spending time with the better half) preclude my involvement.

Still, I heartily endorse (with some jealousy!) this project and encourage any interested locals to meet up with them for a session!

To Bring Back the Dead

The Expeditionary Journal of Xarnagan Vrokk

To Bring Back the Dead

previous entry found here, corresponding Algol Adventures here, here and here

Dickie Dee - Bone Man Intoxicant Addict and Sorcerer
Kalervo - Cactoid Fighter
Rodan the Scrounger - Zermish Man Scavenger and Fighting-Man
Thragg the Skyman - Zermish Man Ornithopter Passenger and Fighting-Man
Xarnagan Vrokk - Haasht Man Fighting-Sage
Thibodeaux and Jedediah - Earth Man alien abductees from 1850's Nevada
Nigel Nightbringer - Earth Man and English Beefeater Fighting Man

Introducing:

Moon Martin - Earth Man Mind Wizard and fellow adventurer of Radar on the Scout Rocket Alpha

Leaving behind the drunken Rodan the Sodden to rest his head in a pool of gin and his own spittle on a bench inside The Bronze Engine, the rest of the party made good for the journey. Mounting our Ornith steeds, their bird heads jostling and legs jumping as we turned their beaks toward the Bornite Mountains, we rode fast through the desert of rust. There, whilst camping, we were attacked by a short-faced bear of sorts. It was a horror to awaken to, but we came out of the fight without a scratch. Well, I say we, however that star-robed sorcerer named Ter'lek we hired did happen to find his head horribly caved in, and seeing as we didn't know the chap all that well, we covered his body in rocks and left it at that.

Coming upon the foothills of the all too familiar Bornites we dismounted and made our way, this time with careful accuracy, toward the chalk cliffs of the mutant crow people. Yes, we were now all too familiar with the territory and our expedition proved quite expedient... hmm, yes. We wound our way through the cliffs and cavernous gullies and gulfs, our hearts racing as we came upon the chalky caves of the crow men. Who knew how many lay inside? Thragg the Skyman, seldom speaking, but when words do appear they are concise and clever, postured it could be an endless conduit of caves leading ever onward to a city of the horrid beings; the party and myself hoped otherwise. Carefully climbing the cliffs toward the caves, we waited til nightfall. I picked up a sizable stone and cast upon it an incantation of light. It immediately began to shine and shimmer with a bright radiance quite adequate to light our way inside. I quickly hid it in the folds of my robe as we approached the mouth of the main cave.

Creeping ever so quietly inside, we hoped to make our way into the warren where we speculated at least some remains could be found. We hardly stepped our fair feet into the caves before we sensed a presence. There in the dark before us we heard muffled steps, and saw the glint of eyes and the sheen of talons. I tossed the lit stone not far ahead of us to reveal what we feared: the feathered faces of mutant crow men! Seeing a possible ambush, I made myself comfortable outside of the cave entrance, doing my best to scout for any others that might try and attack from the rear, thereby surrounding us and making escape that much dimmer a possibility. I stood there in the gloom, listening in horror to the thundering cries of the crow men. "Doom! DOOM!" they cawed as talon clashed against steel. Feathers flew, the cries of "DOOM!" grew, and shrieks erupted from all corners as the thunder of talons seemed to erupt out of deeper caverns. Then all went quiet. I took the chance to spy 'round the corner to see that Dickie Dee had used his infamous Sleeping Incantation, and had put the whole tribe to sleep! Ah, a sleep that they would enjoy forever more.

Luckily there were scant few crow people left it seemed. Kalervo, Nigel, and Thibodeaux skillfully dismembered the sleeping bodies of the crow men and their women. Ah yes, the extermination of a clan of beings merely protecting themselves from wayward scoundrels such as ourselves. Not the noblest thing we have done, but necessary to retrieve the magical items, I mean party members, that we had lost. At this point I went to the cliff edge to continue my scouting duties. No need to get my robes dipped in bird blood!

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the shrubbery. Forms lurched from the shadows and began to caw at us! I drew my sword and struck my most fearsome pose. The caws became subtle laughter, and it all became quickly apparent that it was the formerly gin-sodden and now robust Rodan and a man I had not seen before. Ah, the Scrounger, it was a good sight to see that fellow had regained his composure and his constitution. A strange and helpful rogue he is indeed.

Lifting his arm in a strange mechanical way, the stranger introduced himself as Moon Martin, a mind mage of sorts and one-time companion of Radar O'Reilly aboard the scouting vessel Rocket Ship Alpha. His dress and demeanor were quite peculiar. Firstly, he had his blond locks shorn into the shape of a soup bowl, Secondly he spoke like I'd imagine a rather droll computer might mimic human speech. His spectacles perched precariously on his nose-end, and his red jacket hiding a plethora of weapons, he approached and we shook hands, touching skin to scale. A clammy fellow. Very much expected from his "type". I did however find the presence of a laser rifle strapped to his back to be a comforting one; providing he knows how to use it!

We then returned to the task at hand. Quickly moving through the tunnels we found the bone and gristle heaps of our one time companions; their valuable items shining in our satisfied faces. With Rodan's magic Eye of the Ancients we restored to life the captain Buzz Brazzelhatch, the no longer metal-nosed Radar O'Rielly (a miraculous Eye in every respect, it reformed his former missing feature-his nose being eaten from his face by a disgruntled baboon upon first landing in Algol), Monster Monagin, and in a moment of pure benevolence Dickie Dee raised the notion to re-animate Vroomish the Tikalg Dandy, who upon rising from the earth ran in joyous tears to the muscular, and surprisingly welcoming, arms of Buzz Brazzelhatch. They share something special that I haven't quite put my scales on yet.

The party decided to not resurrect the hated Hobab, nor the race-obsessed hyperborean Kal-Mor. Decisions I found wise and prudent.

Then came the loot!

Scrounging about, Rodan discovered the weapons of the Vat-Men, as well as taking the opportunity to rifle through the remnants of Kal-Mor and Hobab. It was then that Radar did find placed in his hands that magic axe of the Vat-Men; which I was able to identify as one of a potent power. And to Thragg's delight found himself gifted the needler-pistol of Vroomish who in thanks did not reclaim the item from the Sky Man. There was also a Ring of Protection discovered amongst the decaying matter of Kal-Mor. It was at this moment that Dickie and Buzz began to squabble. The Bone Man Sorcerer feeling he was most in need (albeit the man practically jingles as he walks with the amount of stash he has about him) and of course brash Buzz Brazzelhatch, claiming the Captain card yet again argued in his own favor. All the while the calm Cactoid, of equal leaderly virtue, stood by, keeping a steady eye on the ring and cleaning his nails with a spine from his own body. It was at this moment that Moon Martin quickly approached the disputing duo, and with a strange gleam in his eyes swiftly lifted the ring and placed it on his own finger; Buzz and Dickie in seeming understanding of the fairness of his actions. Both Kalervo and I met eyes at this point, our own swift and unspoken understanding that we would have to keep an eye on this suspiciously sly mind-mage Earth Man.

Not long after we had bedded down, and I had been dreaming the most wonderful of fantasies about exploring the dark and glorious moon Thoggyu, I was awoken by shrill screams and loud thumps. Yes, it seems the powers of Moon Martin had worn off. Buzz was using his boots to aggressively remind Moon Martin of the consequences of thievery, by any means, and Dickie was quite busy strewing about all of the mind wizard's goods and equipment. All the while Moon Martin groveled and slipped words out of both sides of his mouth; all falling on the angrily deaf ears of Dickie who furiously continued his search of the man's wares. In the end the only consequence levelled on the bowl-headed Mind Wizard was that his impeccable, and near impeachable, flexible alloy mesh-and-plate armor was given to Kalervo, who happily ditched his clumsy plate and spent the next half hour or so admiring himself in his shiny new suit. I do believe he has finally found something that doesn't make him miss his clipped-off spines. Deservedly so!

Many days then passed as we labored through the rough and rugged terrain of the Bornites, then merrily crossing the Rust Desert; this time around with all companions well fed, and in good spirits.

A curious and comical event occurred here in these burning sands. There was a strange camelid creature, with a snout not unlike a snake. It appeared to be oblivious to us as it plodded along in the distance, but Dickie Dee surmised it to be a good candidate for target practice. Dickie began firing many wild shots with his new gamma radiation pistol, the only effect being the beast rearing its head toward the party; and it did look ever so foul when it sourced the fount of the blasts and began raising it's trunk in a venomous fashion. Faster and faster the creature did bear down upon us. Moon Martin anxiously grabbed at his laser rifle and in nervous jitters did let it bounce from hand to hand firing all the while, melting nearby rock and precipice into lava and smoldering stone. As each shot missed, the creature grew ever near. Then, in a bout of luck and after several wild shots flinging past its form, the creature went up in a green gooey glow as Dickie Dee finally struck home and dissolved the beast before our very eyes.

This was the last of our great adventure. We then shortly arrived in Jakay, where the party was treated to an endless stay at the Bronze Engine by the much appreciative Vroomish. I, myself, having made previous arrangements with Tazar the Interlocuter, made my way to his towering manse of turqoise and copper and set about there in comfort for some time sharing tea and tales with the likeable lord. When after almost a quarter of a moon cycle had passed, I finally convinced the party that now was the time to make for the pristmatic wastes and mine that precious ore! We saddled our beasts and headed away from fair Jakay. However, not far into our journey, I found myself stranded once more! Yes, it so happened that in Agog City the party did come upon yet another Bordello! They seem to lack such focus at times. It was there that Buzz did spy a place called The Lurking Serpent, and there they stayed for quite some time.

I, yet again, wandered alone in Agog with Kalervo, each looking for something to bide our time, and found our own fascination we did indeed.

Yes, I used my money not on liquors and loose women, but on research at the wondrous Hive of the Sages. There I found a library to rival the beauty and savvy of Slarnunna the Slut of the Seven Stars! Yes, I did indeed delve into rich tomes, place my hands on the taut tentacles of technological wonders of the Ancients. With orichalcum wiring, carefully faceted prisms, and some savvy of my own, I then created, in nearly nine nights in the hive, a device to read Radiation Crystals. Now I had a way to determine the life left in these important implements, the true universal power source of the Ancients! Yes, I could now tell with certainty how many charges were left in a raygun, not to mention reading the power of many other devices. With my pockets emptied of all their credits I then made my way to the house of the Houri's, hopefully finding at least one of my party sober and fully clothed.

Creeping in amongst the cacophony of sound and flesh, I found Rodan and Dickie, seemingly alert, and obviously recovering from some binge or another. We then discussed the prismatic ore business again, even taking it so far as to try and locate slaves to do the mining for us. After much failure in that department, and after much personal deliberation, and of course after the reading of the party's raygun crystal levels to prove good use of our gold credits, I decided to find a way to return to the hive in order to further my research.

Even though I was now proud and penniless, I could see that we would not be heading to the prismatic wastes any time soon, and found my time better spent now trying to learn how to recharge these wonderful devices. I then vowed, '...to the Hive I shall return', and left the party to their pursuits.

Ah! Such glorious moments to be had deep in the Hive!

I do love the smell of chemicals and the sting of misplaced orichalcum wiring in the the early morning... oh, any time of day really.

By Thoggyu, I will find a way!

Xarnagan finds a way here...

Out of the Forbidden Mist and into the Tower of Tazar, pt. 2

The Expeditionary Journal of Xarnagan Vrokk
Out of the Forbidden Mist and into the Tower of Tazar, pt. 2

previous entry found here, corresponding Algol Adventures here and here

Dickie Dee - Bone Man Intoxicant Addict and Sorcerer
Kalervo - Cactoid Fighter
Rodan the Scrounger - Zermish Man Scavenger and Fighting-Man
Thragg the Skyman - Zermish Man Ornithopter Passenger and Fighting-Man
Xarnagan Vrokk - Haasht Man Fighting-Sage

Introducing:

Thibodeaux and Jedediah - Earth Man alien abductees from 1850's Nevada

Return of :

Nigel Nightbringer - Earth Man English Beefeater Fighting Man

It has been some time since I last made a moment to scribe our shared adventures. At present, I sit in the warm glow of a chemical fire, set inside a cell deep within the vaults of the Hive of Sages, my hands stained and singed by my potent particulars scattered about my workbench. Here I shall let you gather, as promised, how I came to be here. Hmm, now where did we leave off? Ah yes, that sultry sandy place, that home of strange secrets....

The Bronze Dome of the Desert loomed like a miraculous mirage in the waves of desert heat. As we approached, I ignored my parched throat and cried out to my fellow journeymen as my fascination with what could lay inside grew to a fevered pitch. My elated excitement however, was not shared by the rest of the party. They have no fear standing against hordes of mutant crow people, but knocking on the door of such a splendid dome of possible power and intrigue sends them scuffing the sand and looking away toward Jakay (which could now be seen shimmering and smoking in the distance). I was hoping that at least the Bone Man Sorcerer would have an inkling of interest in what lay beyond the portal, but nay, not a spark of enthusiasm to add to my flaming fascination. I had to make due with a cursory wander around the structure, taking note of the Elder Race glyphs that encircled it. Once again at the entrance, it's sole portal, sealed tight against the desert winds and prying eyes, I circled it with a trace of my scaled finger, secretly wishing to simply knock and enter. Another day, I sadly supposed. Rejoining my companions, the four of us set off for fabulous Jakay. It was true that we were near starving, and our tongues had not been slaked by decent saturating substance in quite some time.

Kalervo, the indomitable cactoid, led us to a safe ledge in a rocky outcropping for us to make our camp that evening; the flickering lights of Jakay tempting us in the distance as we watched the suns set. As I kept watch that night I held my breath as I spied strange grey figures scurry amongst the foothills. Curious creatures, I thought, and hopefully well fed and not interested in making a meal of a scrawny sage and his companions. As the sky lit with the glow of the three suns we quickly packed our gear, wiped the dust and grit off our faces, and made quick to Jakay. Doing our best to look presentable we strolled the streets seeking sustenance and potables which to quaff and quench our parched persons. Rodan the Scrounger, Thragg the Skyman, and Kalervo the cactoid broke from Dickie Dee and myself to head to their favorite haunt: The Bronze Engine. I chuckled at how quickly they will enter a gin soaked public house made of an old Bronze Engine but not a Bronze Dome made of Elder Race secrets! Dickie Dee and myself, still quite parched, but more thirsty for knowledge and comfort, made our way through town to the copper and turquoise Tower of Tazar the Inerlocuter.

Stepping through the ornate doorway we were greeted by the smell of incense and the smiling faces of Tazar and his counterpart, Botrub the obese sage. Before the eye-blink of a blind bat we were sitting, sipping spicy tea, and chatting merrily of our tales, trials, and tribulations. What a splendid and loquacious man, that Tazar. Soon, after many great conversational moments, Dickie Dee began to clack his jaw with his typical nervous twitch and interrupted one of Tazar's tales to excuse himself and attend Botrub at the dispensary. I could hear him quietly purchase some golden ocher lotus-nectar tea, and a single pill of Sorcerer's Silver. I was surprised at the Silver, but was expecting the purchase of the former, one of Dickie Dee's favorite intoxicants; I knew all too well what would transpire next. I turned back around, and simply snugged into my seat and sipped my tea, absorbing an all too rare moment to converse with an interesting man in such luxurious and commodious surroundings. I myself must have told a good tale or two, as before I knew it I was being invited to stay with Tazar here in this tower for as long as my sovereign felt necessary. Quite an upgrade from the Bronze Engine! The Bone Man was also extended the invitation and we stayed at the Tower of Tazar for several days, regaining our vitals and partaking of the town.

On one fortuitous outing the clever Dickie Dee discovered, on the dusty shelves of some out of the way shop, a gamma radiation pistol of the Ancients! Yes, it's radiation crystal still intact, and firing with surprising accuracy. A very propitious find!

With our strength regained, I decided our next best venture would be to mine some of the prismatic ore from the abundant source that I had located not far from the Melted City on a previous journey. Yes, on our journey toward fallen space craft we had stopped near the Melted City, oh those many moon cycles ago, with Hobab and Vroomish. It was there, while camping amongst the prismatic wastes, that I spied a near perfect seam of prismatic ore, in the open, for anyone with two hands and a pack animal to mine. I knew Tazar would pay a princely sum for such a fine specimen and it could do us well to fill our pockets with a bit more credits.

Hurrying about town I gathered together a true miner's treasure chest of tools. I marched it all over to the Bronze Engine, and happily showed it to the party, proudly proclaiming our potential princely sum. Once again I was met with low enthusiasm. Apparently they felt it was more of a necessity to go and reclaim the bodies of our fallen comrades. I happily told them that any items left on their bodies could easily be repurchased with the moneys we would earn from our mining expedition. Again, slack eyes and a lack of want. In a huff, I packed my gear together and placed it in my suite inside the Tower of Tazar. It seemed I would have to wait, yet again. However, I was followed by the still sober members of the party and they expressed that they had located some new recruits, and an old friend that showed up. Yes, apparently two oddly accented earthmen wearing equally odd clothing and claiming to be "alien abductees from a time far past" were hired on as help in this venture of reclaiming the companions. They introduced themselves as Thibodeaux and Jedediah, from the place of Nevada. Next to them stood a man in a conical hat and star patterened robe, calmly claiming to be called Ter'lec. As they moved aside I saw the familiar face of Nigel the Nightbringer, somehow not dead. Not Dead Nigel. How on Algol had he survived the Forbidden Mists to make it back here, full of gin and grinning madly? It was a pleasure to see his beefeating face again.

However it came to be, I found myself once again readying myself for a return to the pastel chalk cliffs of the mutant crow people. With my things gathered and a promise of return to Tazar, I sipped some tea and purchased a small silver pill of Sorcerer's Silver, and with a wink and a nod, turned on my heel and headed for the Bronze Engine.

Out of the Forbidden Mist and into the Tower of Tazar, pt. 1

The Expeditionary Journal of Xarnagan Vrokk
Out of the Forbidden Mist and into the Tower of Tazar, pt. 1

Previous Entry found HERE

Buzz Brazelhatch - Australian Womanizer and Fighting-Man
Corporal "Radar" O'Reiley - Earth Man Rocketship Soldier
Dickie Dee - Bone Man Intoxicant Addict and Sorcerer
Kal-Mor the White Jackal - Hyperborean Bigot and Assassin
Kalervo - Cactoid Fighter
Monster Monagin - Earth Man Sailor and Bully
Rodan the Scrounger - Zermish Man Scavenger and Fighting-Man
Thragg the Skyman - Zermish Man Ornithopter Passenger and Fighting-Man
Xarnagan Vrokk - Haasht Man Fighting-Sage

Hobab - Lhoyg (piebald) Mountain Man and Guide
Vrroomish - Tikalg Man Dandy and Adventurer
Two Nguamodons - Pack Lizards

Well, I must say it fascinates me to know that after having gone through much trial and tribulation we must still argue over more simple ways of making some gold credits appear in our pouches. I have made the argument that in due haste we mine that precious prismatic ore near the Melted City and deliver it to my now good acquaintance, Tazar the Interlocutor; whom I am certainly sure will pay a handsome sum for what is undoubtedly a fine vein of Prismatic Ore of exceptional specimen. However, I should most likely make note of how I came to be here, in the Tower of Tazar, lazing about in the languid after-wafts of one of Dickie Dee's green cigars, a chemical brazier at my side, a good cup of warm tea in my teeth. Yes, I believe we left off with me wiping bird's blood from my hands...

With fresh hands, and a stale outlook, I do believe Dickie Dee and I sat by the fire that eve, staring up at the phosphorescent sky-glow of the distant Stain. There, up in the Bornite Mountains, we exchanged spells from each others tomes. An exciting book of spells, that man has; I intend to make as much use of it as a Sage can! Well, as we were, there in the Mountains, we were of course at the want to follow the hapless Hobab, still ever in search of the "Fallen Ship" now in search of a way out of these beautiful, but deadly mountains. Follow him in more circles we did, to natural results. I do believe someone once described the very definition of insanity as being repeatedly engaged in the same action, each time expecting different results. I do believe I was going slightly mad. However, if I do remember correctly, with some delicate prodding from Vroomish, Buzz Brazelhatch took the lead and did indeed take us somewhere unusual.

We walked all day, following Buzz, and came to find nestled in the multi-colored and pastel foothills, the cave nests of a tribe of Mutant Albino Crow beings. Upon first inspection, they seemed a decent place to stay. Albeit, I had mentioned to the party that they were un-natural caves, and most likely created by some primitive race of sorts. And, when we stepped into these bird warrens, I did happen to notice a few white feathers scattered about. ' Curious!' I thought upon first seeing them. However, in moments my curiosity was replaced by a strange indelible fear. The caverns echoed with a raucous cawing of "DOOM! DooOOM!" and we were suddenly aswarmed by an angry mob of bird men! Stamping their clawed feet to the dust, it was easy to see that they had spread the colored pastel chalk of the hills all over their white feathers, as to make each bird-man a unique blue, pink, or copper green. Very fashionable for such brutes. It is nice to see care taken to preserve some aspects of personal beauty even in the most wild and primitive of places!

I dare say, that in the battle that ensued, the pie-bald Hobab did finally take his leave from this dimension. At least in energetic form. His material remains could most likely now be found scattered about in various forms of putrescence, decay, and digestion. Yes, within seeming moments after Hobab's jugular and other arterial veins were being tossed about in beaks, Dickie Dee did indeed clack his abnormal and jutted jaw in that particular way. Suddenly, all about lay the bird-men, put to sleep by the infectious incantation of the Bone Man Dickie Dee. With our daggers out we set to work. Throats were slit, guts were split in hopes of treasure, and then camp was made. It was at this time, as I was placing on my sleeping cap and adjusting my bedroll, just after giving my monocle a good waxing, that two slimy, pig-baby-faced Vat Men arrived!

There they were, as we should have suspected, lumbering down the stairs, right into our camp inside the nest of the mutant crow-people. Yes, we had spotted them on our way down to the bird warrens wandering the far off cliffs, but they seemed insignificant roving pink blobs at that time. And at this time, I still considered them such. The party attacked with full bravado- after initially running away and attempting to use the pack lizards as meat sheilds. The Vat-Men pressed on, striking at the gnuamodons and causing them to bolt in fear. I too, ran to the other end of the cave towards Thragg and the pack-lizards. Looking back over my shoulder I saw lasers being fired, giant bronze colored axes scraping through flesh, and my party members screaming in agony. It was at this moment I decided to grab a gnuamodon pack lizard and head for the hills... er, well, valley as it was. Yes, I remembered how difficult it was to kill one vat-man, let alone the idea of slaying two. I surmised, perhaps, the party would follow me out of the nest of the bird people (where I was certain lurked ever more of them) and away from the two mindless, rapidly self-healing, constructs.

I had time, there, huddled amongst the flora at the base of the chalky cliffs, to indeed resolve a riddle. Why had the Vat-Men, from the secret laboratory of the Elder race of snake priests, come all this way? It was simple: the Vat-Men were after the obelisk and the other treasures taken from the strange laboratory. I would resolve to keep this to myself. After all, a sage must keep such things as items of historical value a top priority. Especially if he deems they will look good on a mantle or shelf in a future manse. Many moments later while dreaming of a subterranean addition to said future manse, I heard the scrambling of a man down the hillside. Dickie Dee himself had taken leave of the situation and was running towards me, jaw flapping, fire and fear in his eyes, with a spitting chemical lantern swinging as he bounded toward the safety of the scrub. Soon the others followed. By others, I mean, Thragg the skyman, his conical helmet bouncing as he jump-slid down the cliff side. Behind him I could hear the echoing moans of the Vat-Men being pecked to death by more of the mutant crows. I knew there would be more! Where there's feathers, theirs flocks!

I was then made aware of the situation that had passed. Prior to Thragg and Dickie's flight, Kal-Mor had been heard screaming to death down a dark tunnel- perhaps rousing another nest, Kalervo the Cactoid had fallen by the blade of the bronze axe, metal-nosed Radar and our brash leader Buzz were hacked to death by a rusty Vat-Man blade, and Vroomish, his needle pistol firing whirring blast after blast, had gone down last-man-standing in order for Dickie and Thragg to escape. Tragic. I was just happy we had the gnuamodons with our powerful Elder race possessions happily tucked away.

We decided to lay low, and return in the morning, seeking scraps of survivors. At dawn, we cautiously went back to the caves. Lying there, still as a dead thing can, was Kalervo- naught else; not a scrap, nay a shard. Dickie Dee at that time, heaved a slow sigh while he pulled from his pouch the Eye of Restoring Life and using it, brought Kalervo back from the realms of the aether. Seeing no use of hanging about to get pecked to death by the remaining tribe of mutant crows we set out. Quickly, following the revived and robust cactoid, we made our way out of the cursed and twisted foothills of the Bornites and into the desert sands. Kalervo, a smile on his spiney face as the sun and sand struck at it, bellowed he saw something in the distance. I say that cactoid certainly has a nack for finding his way through seemingly any terrain. With the faint outline of a structure in the distance, we suddenly found ourselves on our way to the Great Dome of the Desert...

"Unofficial" Character Sheets and More Artwork

The esteemable Lester/B. Portly took it upon himself to craft a Planet Algol Character Sheet with a border he believes was in an old Clark Ashton Smith anthology. Although they are certainly "unofficial," feel free to avail yourselves of Lester's effort. It's digest sized, and the purple version (1.4 MB) is available Here and the black & white version (300 KB) Here. Although designed to fold in half in order to create a folder, one could easily print it one both sides of a sheet of paper and then cut it in half, creating two double-sided sheets.

I also have some more artwork by Planet Algol campaign participants to share, previews of what you can expect in the first Planet Algol booklet(s). I'm sure many of you will recognize the below tableaux as a homage to a certain beloved artist; two different renditions of three "magic-users" (a Sage, a Sorcerer and a Mind Wizard) squabbling over a table of arcane relics. The top image is by Wesley/Fat Cotton and the lower one is by Lester/B. Portly.

"That Cactus Lady Has a Nice Rump on Her" & Doom Metal Tuesday

Courtesy of Wesley/Fat Cotton & his partner in crime R. Ruddock, a pair of Cactoids of Planet Algol. Also, here's some Doom Metal:

The Expeditionary Journal of Xarnagan Vrokk: Sage and Scholar of Societies, Structures, and Stars

Here I sit in the dampening mist, scrawling on a bit of back paper. I have traveled here, into this Forbidden Mist Valley, knowing full well of its hidden and hideous dangers that lurk and loiter in the thick shadow of the Bornite Mountains. In order for my sovereign to have landed in such a place I will let you know that I have followed this band of mercenary ruffians led by a dandy-ish Tikalg man and the lack-bearded, cloud-minded Hobab of the Lhoyg.

The gentleman Hobab, whose interesting story is truly what led me here, has been leading us in circles for what would seem a parsec to a gas giant but an eternity for any sane Agogite who can remember which way to buckle his boots in the morning. What interesting story pray'd he? Well, that of a fallen ship. Yes, the at first seeming earnest Hobab had seen a ship enter this valley, take samples and then fly away only to become somehow compromised and fall from the sky into this aptly named Forbidden Mist Valley. And now it seems Hobab's memory has become compromised as well! Nonetheless, we have had some very interesting encounters so far. On our way here through the Prismatic Wastes, I spied quite a large quantity of Prismatic Ore. I aptly noted its location immediately. This small fortune will definitely add to the fund of my future manse, library, and Cosmotorium. Other than this thrilling find, our journey through the Prismatic Wastes proved rather uneventfull. We were however, detoured toward the Melted City.

It seems the party had a fallen member amongst the debris of some Gargoyle warren and found it integral to retrieve said man. Hobab and Vroomish, the Tikalg man, were rather in a huff over this, but the party's bargaining skills won out in the end. After a short while of trekking we came to the lair amongst the glass shards and multi-coloured melted monoliths where the Gargoyles were said to reside. At once the party was set upon by the stone-skinned beasts. Nary a moment after much sword flashing and claw ripping that Rodan the Scrounger fired a few laser pistol rounds and was taken down by a mighty blow. At that moment Kalervo withdrew a curious object from his person. In his hand he held what appeared to be a bronze sphere, he fingered a depression within the object and in an instant a field of impenetrable force seemed to surround the cactoid Kalervo, Buzz Brazelhatch, the halberd swinging Nightbreaker and others. The party then took to crumbling the Gargoyles one by one.

All in the meantime Dickie Dee the bone-man sorcerer and the metal-nosed child soldier Radar O'Reilly snuck off into the lair. It was there that they found their fallen comrade Monster Monagin and brought him back to life with yet another Eye of the Ancients. Awakened and within his magical armor, Monster Monagin and companions tore the lair apart in search of any meaningful object. Brutes. I would have taken the time to carefully catalog the whereabouts and placement of each item in such a strange place. Knowledge, my friends, is the silent, sturdy companion of life's many journeys.

Their ransacking proved fruitful, however. They came trotting out of the lair happily holding three new items of some substance. One, a copper scroll endowed with the power to protect those wielding it from the undead, the second treasure was that of a spired crown of green jewels, and the third, the most wondrous of all, a glowing sword with the ancient tongue spelling out "Sorcerer Slayer" down its blade. The crown and sword were put into a common bag for later dispersal; I took the scroll for safe keeping.

We then began our journey in earnest. The Bornite mountains loomed ahead in the distance. We traveled safely through several hillock and across many a mountain foot. All the while the sounds in the distance continued getting slightly stranger. It wasn't until we trekked through a tight spot in the Bornites that we found ourselves here in this Forbidden Mist Valley full of fungus! Yes, all with two ears had better hear that there are strange species of fungi in these damp places.

It was but our first few steps in that I and the party spotted the strange beings known as the Mulg; infamous among the moving fungi as beings whose sensory motives are direct and immediate, but lacking in true wit. I communicated this information and Nigel Nightbreaker took it into his mind to shoot an arrow off and away into the mist. The tentacle-headed lumbering fungi immediately began shuffling toward the spent arrow and we casually passed by. I took the moment to make a few quick sketches of them in my notes here, the chiaroscuro in these parts is akin to priceless elixir and must be savored, evr'y drop!

Our adventures passed as time did like-wise. Once we saw quite a large crystalline cube slide along the moss and through the mist; Oh the magic of the Wilds! Then, in the most recent of memory, we came across quite a large fungal creature; beget to us by the generous wanderings of Hobab. The striking thing took quite a toll on some of the party members, but they fought bravely and genuinely. Even Hobab put up a brave battle before he got wollaped by a thick tentacle and lost his cup-full of gumption. The bruises and bleedings were many, the spoils though, are quite wonderful indeed; yes, three purple and iridescent sporous puffballs were seen in the mass of fungal pulp left post-ravage. I have taken the time to identify two as such so far, using up the last of my precious incense and herbs: One seems to be endowed with the ability to shrink a being, the Other seems to possess the power to control animals and beasts. When my strength is regained from slumber, and I am able to meditate and draw upon the power of the dark moon Thoggyu (Greatest of Moons, Sultan of Satellites), I will then try and identify the Third of the sporous, and now seeming perhaps naturally sorcerous, puffballs. Most likely I will have to put patience to the test and wait until I can manifest sufficient efflorescent greenery for said identification work.

Oh, where will Thoggyu find me now?

A Simple Announcement Regarding and Illustrious Position

Please welcome our new Editor, the talented gamer and artist Wesley "Fat Cotton," aka "Alamogordo Slim," to Planet Algol. Wesley did a bang-up job polishing the prose in the private Planet Algol files, thus his new position. This humble blog should benefit greatly from his sharp eye and sterling grammatical skills!