TEXT: silven trumpeter
  the official magazine of Silven Crossroads
  Issue 19 - March 2005
  http://www.silven.com
  We review...
  Sean K. Reynolds The Book of Iron 
  Might
  page 28
  Wyrd is Bond
  page 33
  COVER STORY
  by Sean Holland
  page 11
  Image © Sean K. Reynolds Games
  Through the Lens of History: Using History for Better Gaming
  Vision XVI: Wolfskins and Berserks
  Warrior Types of Ancient Germany and the Nordic World
  
  Page 2
  Contents Page
  Fiction
  The Adventures of Starlanko the Magnificent
  by Matthew J. Hanson
  page 3
  An Eagle Warrior’s Oath Part 2
  by Khaz Axson
  page 8
  Zen and the Art of Fighting
  by Christian R. Bonawandt
  page 22
  General RPG
  Lights, Camera, Action!
  by J. Carpio
  page 13
  Through the Lens of History
  by Sean Holland
  page 11
  Xenoform Invasion
  by Jerel Hass
  page 19
  Interviews
  Interview with Malcolm Craig
  by Nash J. Devita
  page 16
  Reviews
  Review - The Book of Iron Might
  page 28
  Review - Blood and Brains: The Zombie Hunter’s 
  Guide
  page 30
  Review - World of Darkness: Antagonists
  page 32
  Review - Wyrd is Bond
  page 33
  Other
  Open Gaming Licence
  page 35
  Publishers Notes and Legal
  page 36
  Editor’s Note:  March 1, 2005
  Welcome to the 19th issue of the Silven Trumpeter!
  Time passes, and things change.  This past month, 
  Dana Lynn Driscoll chose to step down from her 
  position as Editor-in-Chief in order to devote herself to 
  her Ph.D. studies.  We will all miss her work here in the 
  Trumpeter, and I think I speak for us all when I wish 
  her the best of luck in wherever her path may lead. 
  My name is Elizabeth R.A. Liddell, although those of 
  you who have seen me in the guilds or worked with 
  me know that I go by Lyz.  I’ve been gaming for about 
  ten years and writing for nearly that long, and I am 
  very excited to be working as Editor-in-Chief for the 
  Trumpeter.  
  Filling Dana’s shoes (even with her guidance and 
  assistance!) is proving to be a challenging task.  I’m 
  very thankful that I have a strong staff of editors to 
  help me out as well as a cast of creative, dedicated 
  writers each bringing their unique work to our table.  I 
  hope you’ll all be patient with me as I learn the tricks 
  of the trade, and I hope I can bring you a Trumpeter 
  with the same high standards of quality that it has 
  always had.  
  This month’s issue is filled, cover-to-cover, with all the 
  sorts of tasty treats you’ve come to expect from us!  
  You’ll find short fiction ranging from the dramatic to the 
  hilarious, new material for use in your d20 games, and 
  a wide spread of product reviews.
  So, until I find my own tagline of closure, happy 
  gaming!
  Elizabeth R.A. Liddell
  Editor-in-Chief
  Silven Trumpeter
  
  Page 3
  “So are you going?” asked Redreck the Fierce’s long time 
  friend, Starlanko the Magnificent.
  “I don’t know,” Redreck replied. He swigged a shot of 
  whiskey. Redreck and Starlanko sat in the common room 
  of the Ambrosia Inn. They had been discussing a bard 
  called Correlius of the Shining Song.  Redreck’s favorite 
  bard and Correlius were scheduled to play the next 
  town over. One part of Redreck very much wanted to 
  attend the performance, but another part worried about 
  Starlanko. 
  “Don’t worry about me,” Starlanko said. “I’ll plan to 
  take it easy the next few days. The scariest part of my 
  weekend is going to be meeting with Bargle, and that will 
  be more unsettling than actually dangerous.”  
  Bargle was another wizard, one who Redreck did not 
  trust. If it were up to Redreck he would steer clear of 
  Bargle, but Starlanko insisted it was good business, and 
  Redreck did not pretend to understand business the way 
  Starlanko did.
  “I won’t start any trouble,” Starlanko said, “and if any 
  comes to find me... I’ve still got Candessa to protect me.”
  This was little comfort to Redreck. He did not think 
  Candessa Voliar, another wizard who was traveling 
  with Starlanko and Redreck, was a bad person. She 
  was friendly; she sometimes talked too much for 
  Redreck’s taste, but most people did. Redreck doubted 
  her dependability when push came to shove. A month 
  ago they had all been involved in a large battle with a 
  small army of drow. Candessa spent most of the battle 
  tucked in an extra dimensional space. Redreck did not 
  fault her for it; some people were not meant to lead a 
  life of combat, but he could not trust Candessa to be a 
  protector.
  As if proving his point, Candessa descended the staircase 
  from the private rooms and crossed to Redreck’s table. 
  The Adventures of Starlanko the 
  Magnificent
  The Adventure of Redreck the Fierce
  I Promise There Will Be Pirates
  “I’m going out,” she said. “Don’t wait up for me.”
  “I’ve still got Funbane to protect me,” Starlanko said. 
  Redreck looked at Starlanko’s belt. The scabbard that 
  normally housed Funbane, Starlanko’s talking sword, was 
  vacant. “Okay, so I threw him in a hay wagon. We had a 
  disagreement. But he’ll be back tonight, I’m sure.” The 
  sword always returned to its owner at midnight.
  Redreck sometimes felt sorry for Funbane. Not because 
  Starlanko could treat the sword coldly. It was the 
  dynamic of their relationship. Redreck knew that despite 
  Starlanko’s occasional griping or teasing, the wizard 
  regarded the sword as a friend.  
  Redreck pitied Funbane for the lack of power it must 
  feel. The sword was given intelligence like any living 
  creature, but only the least of magical enchantments in 
  terms of fighting power. Redreck had long ago acquired 
  weapons that suited him better on the battle field, and in 
  a life where the cost of failure could be the deaths of his 
  friends, Redreck had to choose the option that gave him 
  the greatest edge in combat. So the sword hung at the 
  belt of a wizard who never drew the weapon. Funbane 
  was unable to fulfill his true purpose. Redreck thought it 
  must be like a soldier being forced to watch a battle but 
  not being able to join the fray.
  Redreck noticed that Starlanko was tapping his left pinky 
  finger against the table. It was a sign that there was 
  something heavy on the wizard’s mind. Perhaps now 
  was not the time to be drinking. Redreck flipped over his 
  empty glass. 
  “No, it’s nothing.”
  Redreck doubted Starlanko would hide a matter of 
  security. The wizard might want Redreck to go to 
  Escondale, but Redreck did not think Starlanko would go 
  so far as to hide a real threat. 
  If Starlanko was not anxious about matters of safety, 
  he was probably concerned about matters of a more 
  personal nature. For some reason Starlanko had 
  developed an infatuation with Candessa. Redreck nodded 
  to the door from which she had recently left. 
  “No, it’s actually not about her. Really, it’s nothing 
  important.” 
  Redreck decided to relax and take Starlanko at his word. 
  Perhaps Starlanko was finally getting over Candessa. 
  The thought comforted Redreck. He knew that Candessa 
  would only end up hurting Starlanko in the end. The 
  warrior was not sure what his friend saw in Candessa.
  But Redreck was hardly one to admonish.
  “If you don’t want to go for yourself,” Starlanko said, 
  “which I’m sure you do,” and he was right, “go for me. 
  I’ve got the meeting I have to attend, but get me his 
  autograph. Hold on.” Starlanko rummaged through his 
  bag of holding. “Here it is.” He found a copy of the Ballad 
  of the Dark Horse, a song written by Correlius of the 
  Shining Song. “If you come back without his signature I’ll 
  be very disappointed.”
  “Okay,” Redreck conceded. He went upstairs to retrieve 
  his possessions, then within minutes he was on the road 
  to Escondale.
  by Matthew J. Hanson
  
  Page 4
  The tavern hall was large. It was not entirely full, 
  but Redreck noticed more people gathered than the 
  last time he attended one of Correlius’s concerts. 
  Redreck was torn between his urge to get a good 
  seat, and his urge to remain inconspicuous. He was 
  even traveling without his trusty broadsword, an 
  act that was almost unheard of for Redreck. In the 
  end Redreck decided upon a seat close to the front, 
  but far off to the side. Assuming the performer 
  looked straight out, his gaze would pass right by Redreck.
  While he waited for the performance to start, Redreck 
  sipped from a tall glass of mead. There was a din of 
  voices all around him, but the speakers were of no 
  consequence, and Redreck lost himself in his inner 
  thoughts. At last the lights were dimmed. The audience 
  applauded as Dennara of the Diamond Strings entered. 
  She was the accompanist to Correlius of the Shining 
  Song, and would play her lute while Correlius sang.
  Then Correlius entered, and the applause crested, then 
  faded away. Correlius thanked the audience, then nodded 
  to Dennara.
  Dennara began to play her lute. Musical notes drifted 
  from it and flowed throughout the hall. Correlius began to 
  sing.
  The notes rang pure, and sweet. His voice had all the 
  beauty of the sun rising over the snow-capped Morlian 
  Mountains, all the powers of a waterfall, and all the 
  fragileness of a lily blooming in spring. When the bard 
  sang, Redreck lost himself. There was no tavern around 
  him, no friends a city away. Redreck no longer saw the 
  man performing before him; even the lyrics were lost..
  As he grew accustomed to the experience, Redreck’s mind 
  drifted back to the physical world. He knew where he 
  was, and how he got there, and most of all why he was 
  there. Redreck watched Correlius’s performance just as 
  intently as he listened to it. It amazed Redreck that such 
  a divine sound could come from such a mortal frame. The 
  throat that created the resonance, the lips that formed 
  the sound. They were just like the parts of any other 
  man, and yet Correlius was able to use them for so much 
  more.
  Maybe not just like. Redreck was so gruff and battle-
  ridden that even his lips had scars. Correlius’s features 
  were not damaged the way Redreck’s were. They were 
  cleaner. Softer. 
  The performance went on for nearly two hours, and while 
  the singing continued Redreck was content. He felt a 
  slight twinge of loss when Correlius announced he was 
  about to play his last song, the Ballad of the Dark Horse.
  Of course. Starlanko had given Redreck the copy to 
  autograph. He knew that Starlanko probably did not truly 
  care whether Redreck obtained an autograph of not. The 
  wizard had probably only used it as an excuse to get the 
  warrior out the door, but Redreck had said he would get 
  an autograph, and he was a man of his word.
  The last notes of the song faded away. Correlius thanked 
  everybody for attending, and left the stage. 
  Redreck hastened for the exit. He knew he would have to 
  act fast. Some bards like to linger after performances and 
  mingle with their audiences, but Correlius liked to leave 
  quickly.
  “Excuse me, Correlius.” Redreck caught the bard 
  just as he was preparing to leave. Correlius seemed 
  different close up. He was more real, Redreck realized. 
  The Correlius he watched so often on stage was an 
  abstraction, but the man before him was a real human.
  “Yes, what can I do for you?”
  “My friend asked me to see if you could autograph this.” 
  Redreck held out the parchment with the copy of the 
  song.
  “Of course,” Correlius said. “Anything for a fan. What is 
  your friend’s name?”
  “Starlanko.”
  “Starlanko the Magnificent?”
  “Yes.”
  Correlius chuckled at an unseen joke. “And just what is 
  your name?”
  “Redreck.”
  “Did you enjoy the show, Redreck?”
  “Yes.”
  Correlius finished his inscription and handed it back. 
  Across the top the parchment now read, To Starlanko 
  the Magnificent. Sorry you couldn’t make the show, 
  but thanks for sending your friend Redreck. It was my 
  pleasure.
  Redreck thanked the bard, and was about to turn away, 
  when a cloaked and hooded figure spoke up from the 
  other end of the alley.
  “Be ye the one called Correlius of the Shining Song?” 
  the figure asked. Two others in similar cloaks flanked the 
  speaker.
  “Who wants to know?” Correlius asked.
  “The lads call me No-Depth, on account of the eye. But 
  all you need to know is that I’ve come with a message 
  from Captain Blargoth. The captain says to enjoy your 
  life while you can. For it won’t be lasting much longer.” 
  The speaker flung off his cloak to reveal a frilly shirt, and 
  a red handkerchief tied round his head, a cutlass at his 
  side, and a patch over his left eye.
  “Oh dear,” said Correlius. “More pirates.”
  Redreck was so gruff and battle-ridden that even his lips had 
  scars
  [                   ]
  
  Page 5
  “Arrrr!”
  The two other cloaked figures proved to be pirates as 
  well. Correlius quickly wove together a magical song and 
  the two henchling pirates fell to the ground unconscious. 
  Undaunted, No-Depth drew his cutlass and charged.
  Redreck interposed himself between No-Depth and 
  Correlius. While trying to reach the bard, the pirate 
  received a painful blow to the jaw.
  “Have at ye!” No-Depth shouted. He slashed at Redreck. 
  It drew blood, but by Redreck’s standards it was only a 
  scratch. Redreck retaliated with two more quick punches 
  that both landed true.
  Meanwhile Correlius was weaving another magic song. 
  Redreck felt his muscles quicken, his reflexes sharpen. It 
  was similar to the experience he felt when Starlanko the 
  Magnificent cast haste upon him.
  The pirate No-Depth cut Redreck again this time the 
  wound sliced deeper. Redreck was still far from worrying 
  about the injuries, but he decided he had had enough. He 
  grabbed the pirate’s wrist and wrenched the cutlass from 
  No-Depth’s hand.
  No-Depth knew he was beat, and fled. Redreck would 
  have none of that. He threw the pirate’s cutlass after 
  him, and it lodged in the scurvy dog’s back. The pirate 
  staggered a few more paces, then fell to the ground 
  unconscious. 
  “My hero!” Correlius exclaimed. “Oh dear, you’re hurt. 
  Here, let me make it all better.” Before Redreck could 
  protest, the bard cast another spell. He touched Redreck’s 
  wounds and the cuts healed. The pain lessened. “How’s 
  that?”
  “It’s better.” Redreck stretched his muscles. There was 
  still a small twinge. “But I’m not at full.”
  “I’m sorry,” the bard said, “I only ever learned cure light. 
  Here, let me try again.” Once again he cast the spell, and 
  once again his fingers glided across Redreck’s scarred 
  chest. “How’s that?”
  “Good.”
  Correlius paused slightly, then said, “I should probably be 
  going.”
  “More pirates?” Redreck said. “Does that happen a lot?”
  “It’s not a big deal really. I’m just being hunted by pirates 
  is all.”
   “Why?”
  “It’s a long story,” said Correlius.
  “I’m a good listener.”
  Correlius sighed. “It was a long time ago. 
  You see, I’ve been training to sing ever since 
  I was a boy. When I was young I had a rich 
  soprano voice, and there was talk among the 
  elders about... making it permanent. I wasn’t 
  looking forward to that. So, late one moonless 
  night I sneaked out from my room and ran away. 
  I did not have a good idea of what I would do, but I 
  remembered hearing songs about sailors. They sounded 
  so rugged and manly. When I was young I dreamed about 
  being rugged. I thought I just had to get into the right 
  company, and suddenly muscles would just burst out of 
  me. I’ve since come to be more realistic about my goals.”
  “I think you’re just fine,” Redreck interrupted.
  “Thanks. Coming from you that’s something,” 
  Correlius said. Then he continued his story. “Anyway, I 
  remembered the stories that I had heard, so I decided to 
  stow away on a sailing ship. I didn’t know one ship from 
  another, so I chose one based on the name. I was still 
  in my manly phase, so I went with the manliest name I 
  could find: the Bloody Skull.
  “I crept on and hid myself in an apple barrel, in which 
  I drifted off to dreamland. I awoke to the sound of an 
  explosion. I crept from my hiding place and went to 
  the window, a porthole actually. I peered out to see a 
  merchant ship, and it was being peppered by spells and 
  arrows from the Bloody Skull, which later turned out to 
  not really be the Bloody Skull. It was actually the Black-
  Eyed Susan, but that name was so closely identified with 
  looting and pillaging that they used the name Bloody 
  Skull when berthing in lawful ports.
  “I did not realize I was on the infamous Black-Eyed Susan 
  at the time, but it was clear from the look of the other 
  vessels that this was no military conflict. It was a pirate 
  raid, and I was on the ship that was doing the raiding.
  “I did not know what to do. I had yearned for adventure, 
  but I did not think I could resort to piracy. I also knew 
  that if they caught me I would surely be forced to 
  walk the plank, so I returned to my apple barrel and 
  contemplated how to make my return to civilization.
  “I lived in that apple barrel for three days with nothing 
  to eat but apples. I couldn’t even make an apple tart or 
  an apple cobbler, just plain apples. But on the fourth day 
  I awoke to discover that we were being taken ashore. 
  I was taken to the pirate chef, who was planning to 
  make some sort of apple strudel, but to his surprise, 
  when he opened the apple barrel, he found that the 
  apples where half eaten, and a young boy was hiding 
  inside.
  “I was dragged before the captain, a cutthroat 
  pirate called Captain Blargoth. The captain 
  gave me an ultimatum. I could either join 
  their pirate crew, or fall to the depths of 
  Davy Jones’ Locker. It was not much of a 
  choice, so I joined up. I was still so young 
  at the time that the Captain realized I 
  could not participate in actual piracy. 
  At first they tried to make me a part of the sailing crew, 
  hoisting the main sail and all that, but alas, I proved 
  too frail for that rugged work. Only a few days into my 
  tenure the pirate’s cook was gobbled up by a giant squid 
  that attacked him after Captain Blargoth threw the cook 
  overboard. Being that I needed to prove myself useful, 
  the position fell to me. I managed to do quite well if I do 
  say so myself. While I was not cooking I would also lead 
  shanties while the men worked, sing ballads when they 
  rested, or dance a jig when the situation called for it.
  “On it continued for five years, until finally the guilt of 
  sailing with pirates became too much for me to bear. I 
  waited until we again anchored off a civilized port. Then 
  I snuck from the boat, changed my name, and picked up 
  the life of a traveling minstrel.
  “It seems I could not escape forever. You see, I know the 
  location of Captain Blargoth’s secret island, where the 
  pirates store all their ill-gotten pirate booty. They fear 
  Longsword image courtesy of Melbars Ironworks, Germany. Purveyors of custom made medieval weaponry (http://www.melbar.de/Blankwaffen/Blankwaffen.htm).
  
  Page 6
  that I will reveal their secrets, so they have hunted for 
  me all these years. Now that they have found me, I fear I 
  must go into hiding again. And just when my career was 
  starting to pick up.”
  “No,” Redreck said. “You’ve run long enough. Now it’s 
  time for you to fight back.”
  “But what can I do? Captain Blargoth is a fierce warrior.”
  “It’s okay,” said Redreck. “I’m a fierce warrior too.”
  It was not hard to find the Black-Eyed Susan. It was 
  the same boat Correlius had sailed on all those years 
  ago, though it was registered under a different name. 
  To anybody who checked the ship’s identification it was 
  the Axe of Carnage, but the name could not hide the 
  despicable nature of the Black-Eyed Susan.
  Redreck was clad in full armor, with a shield in one hand 
  and a sword in the other. He also brought his bow, his 
  morning star, and several daggers, just in case. Correlius 
  was tucked closely behind. The bard seemed to fear that 
  he would be instantly abducted if he strayed more than a 
  foot from Redreck.
  It was still late at night, so nobody was on deck. This 
  combined with the gangplank being down made it easy 
  for the bard and fighter to board. 
  Redreck stood in the middle of the deck. “Hello!” he 
  called.
  Like rats, pirates scurried from every nook and cranny. 
  They immediately recognized Correlius, and though they 
  did not advance, they shouted jeers and insults like “land 
  lubber,” “mutinous blowfish,” and “your mother’s so stupid 
  she thought buccaneer referred to the price of corn.” 
  Then somebody shouted, “Make way for the captain!” 
  and the pirate rabble hushed. A line parted and Captain 
  Blargoth sauntered through the clearing.
  She wore a large-brimmed hat with an ostrich feather 
  on the left side, and a blue overcoat with tails. Her 
  pantaloons were tucked into her tall boots. Her brown, 
  curled hair was cut to shoulder length. Captain Blargoth’s 
  right hand was missing, and in its place was a sharp 
  hook. A green parrot perched on her shoulder.
  “You spoony bard! Ye didn’t think ye could outrun us 
  forever, Pretty Pep?”
  “I’m not running anymore,” Correlius said.
  “Aye, I can see that now, can’t I,” Captain Blargoth said. 
  “Now you’re just cowering behind others, not even able 
  to stand up for your own self.” Her words were meant to 
  be an insult to Correlius, but they gave Redreck a source 
  of pride. He considered it a privilege to fight for those 
  who could not protect themselves. “And just who do ye 
  be that puts himself ‘tween a lion and her prey?” Captain 
  Blargoth asked.
  “Redreck.”
  “Redreck, eh? Ye look like a good fighting man. We may 
  have use for you on our crew. What do ye say?”
  “I don’t work with pirates.”
  “Pirates? Do you see any pirates, Polly?”
  “Raa!” squawked the bird on Blargoth’s shoulder. “No 
  pirates here.”
  “Nay, we be but humble merchant sailors trying to make 
  out an honest living,” the captain said. “But we’ll kill ye if 
  ye don’t step away from the bard.”
  Redreck raised his sword.
  Captain Blargoth turned away. “Kill him.”
  The pirate mob rushed at Redreck. For several rounds 
  there was a clattering of swords against steel, a bard 
  dodging as best he could, and a whole lot of cleaving. In 
  less than a minute almost the entire pirate crew lay flat 
  upon the deck, battered and bleeding.
  “I must admit I’m rather impressed,” said Captain 
  Blargoth. She had migrated to higher ground. “It’s almost 
  as though me men could barely hit you. It must be on 
  account of that armor ye’re wearing. I wonder why I 
  didn’t think to put any of me men in armor?” Blargoth’s 
  hook magically transformed into a metal hand as she 
  grabbed hold of a rope and swung towards Redreck. She 
  kicked him in the chest and knocked him clean overboard. 
  “Oh yes, maybe it’s on account of the water.” Captain 
  Blargoth turned to Correlius, “I’ll hate to spill your blood, 
  Pretty Pep, but I’m afraid ye know too much.”
  “Excuse me, Captain,” said the first mate, a bearded 
  pirate who had “withdrawn” during Redreck’s onslaught. 
  “Shouldn’t we be making him walk the plank? I mean, 
  isn’t that the piratey thing to do?”
  “We’re berthed in harbor. If he walked the plank, he’d just 
  swim ashore, and what good would that be?”
  “We could sail further out.”
  “Even if we unhitched now it would take hours, and we 
  haven’t finished loading up on supplies.”
  “I know, Captain, but some of the boys and I have been 
  talking, and this wouldn’t be the first of our complaints.”
  “If you’ve got any complaints to be making, ye should be 
  making them to me!”
  “Well, Captain, about all this fresh fruit you’ve got us 
  eating?”
  “Aye? What about it?”
  About the Author
  Matthew J. Hanson is an aspiring writer, as well as a 
  long time gamer. He normally lives in Minnesota, but is 
  currently finishing his senior year of college in Beloit, 
  Wisconsin. Recently, his 10-minute play Who is Ruth 
  was selected as the winner for the American College 
  Theatre Region III winner, for their 10-minute play 
  competition, and it will be advancing to the national 
  competition in April. If you would like to learn more 
  about Matthew J. Hanson, please feel free to visit his 
  website at www.matthewjhanson.com.
  Contact the Author
  matthew@matthewjhanson.com
  
  Page 7
  “Well, how are we supposed to be getting scurvy if we 
  keep getting our proper allotment of vitamin C?”
  “That’s the point, ye mangy barnacle. Scurvy’s a 
  debilitating disease, and if left untreated could prove 
  fatal.”
  “All the same, Captain. When me and the boys call 
  ourselves scurvy dogs we’d like to be 
  able to mean it.”
  Meanwhile, Redreck the 
  Fierce was on the sea 
  floor below the Black-
  Eyed Susan trying to 
  undo his armor. He 
  and Correlius had 
  discussed the 
  possibility of being 
  thrown overboard, 
  and Redreck had 
  decided it was worth the 
  risk. He knew that he could 
  hold his breath for over three 
  minutes with no effort and could 
  usually take his armor off in that time or 
  less. 
  Along with his armor, Redreck left most of his weapons 
  on the ocean floor. He took only his bow and arrows, 
  and a single dagger. There was a twinge of loss for his 
  equipment, but he knew he could come back for it after 
  the proper bestowing of a water breathing spell.
  Back on deck, Captain Blargoth and her first mate had 
  finally reached an agreement. “Okay, how about this: I’ll 
  kill the Pretty Pep right now, and ye still have to eat your 
  two servings of fruit, but as a concession I won’t slit open 
  your gullet. Agreed?”
  But the mate did not answer. There was a thwenk and an 
  arrow pierce his throat. 
  Blargoth turned. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing ye again this 
  side of the Hades.”
  Redreck fired an arrow at Blargoth, but she dodged. 
  “Arr! Have at ye!” she cried, and charged upon him. 
  Redreck dropped his bow and drew his dagger. Blargoth 
  attacked with both cutlass and hook. Most of Correlius’s 
  more powerful spells had been spent for the day, but he 
  sang a song that somehow made Redreck feel greater, 
  which may have been the edge he needed. With neither 
  party wearing armor, blows were easily landed on both 
  sides. It soon became a fight of attrition, seeing who 
  could stand the punishment longer. As it turned out, 
  Redreck had the higher endurance. 
  “Ye may have bested me, and all me 
  men, but I’ll have the last laugh 
  yet.” Captain Blargoth clicked 
  her heals together and flew 
  into the air. “Ye’ll rue the 
  day ye crossed me 
  blade!” 
  Redreck picked up his 
  bow and fired several shots 
  after her, but it was no use. 
  Captain Blargoth disappeared 
  into the night.
  “I’m sorry I let her get away,” said 
  Redreck.
  “Don’t apologize. You did far more than I could ever ask 
  for.”
  “She’ll be back.”
  “I know.” Correlius looked Redreck in the eyes, but it only 
  lasted a second before Redreck looked down and kicked 
  at the floorboards. “You know. I wouldn’t mind having a 
  big strong man like you around. If you’d like to travel with 
  me for a while...”
  Redreck scratched at the back of his head. “I would, but 
  I’ve got another friend I’m looking after.”
  “I should have known somebody like you would already...”
  “We’re just friends. But I don’t think... maybe you could 
  travel with us for a while.”
  “I’d love to, but my career’s just starting to take off. I’ve 
  got gigs scheduled, and I shouldn’t cancel those.”
  “Okay then.”
  “Hey, Redreck. Would it be okay if I sent you a sending 
  sometime? Maybe if we are in the same part of the 
  kingdom we can get together sometime.”
  “I’d like that.”
  “And... before you go... for saving my life and all, I’ve got 
  a reward I’d like to give you.”
  “What?”
  “This.” Correlius stood on his tiptoes and used Redreck’s 
  shoulder for support, but it still wasn’t quite enough 
  height.
  “Oh, sorry,” Redreck said when he realized what was 
  going on. He bent slightly downwards. 
  Correlius’s lips were tender and warm.
  “You know,” said Redreck. “It’s not a good idea to ride 
  cross country at night. I should probably stay at least 
  until morning.”
  “Well, I’d hate to put you in danger.” 
  “Ye may have 
  bested me, and all me 
  men, but I’ll have the last laugh yet.” 
  Captain Blargoth clicked her heals 
  together and flew into the air. “Ye’ll 
  rue the day ye crossed me blade!” 
  
  Page 8
  *** The proud city of Ravenholt has fallen. Its once 
  glittering towers lie in smoking ruins, consumed by 
  dragon fire and overrun by the assembled might of the 
  wicked Timborian elves. Great woolly mammoths grind 
  the population underfoot while dragons circle Ravens 
  Valley, searching for survivors to sate their appetites. 
  From the destruction, one hero emerges: Bron Straker, 
  eagle warrior and dragon slayer, along with his avian 
  mount Screech, the last of an ancient race of giant 
  eagles. Together they seek to fulfill their oaths to their 
  home and peoples as they wreak havoc among the 
  invading Timborian elves. Please join us for the exciting 
  conclusion of “An Eagle Warrior’s Oath.”***         
  Agnariel Timbor was invincible. The elven king, seated 
  on a platform high atop his black woolly mammoth 
  mount and surrounded by his personal bodyguard of 
  soldiers and war sorcerers, casually looked down on the 
  ruined human city of Ravenholt, where his elven reavers 
  raped and pillaged at will.
  Shielding his eyes from the rising sun, Agnariel saw a 
  pair of dragons break from formation to swoop down on 
  the eastern quarter of the city. Turning behind him to his 
  personal sorcerer, the frost elf king impatiently nodded 
  his head in the dragons’ direction.
  Unlike the dragon riders, who were armed and armored 
  in traditional frost blue, Timborian magic users preferred 
  to wear flowing, blood-red robes trimmed in black. The 
  sorcerer bowed before replying to Agnariel’s unspoken 
  question. “I have sensed the loss of another wyrm, my 
  lord,” answered the spellcaster. His eyes down, he didn’t 
  by Khaz Axson
  An Eagle 
  Warrior’s Oath
  Part 2
  notice the look of annoyance flash across his lord’s pale, 
  frost blue face.
  Before Agnariel could ask his next question, the answer 
  shot through the smoke in the form of an eagle and its 
  rider. The frost elves watched eagerly as another dragon 
  broke formation to engage the renegade eagle. The giant 
  reptile would surely rend the bird to shreds, ending any 
  resistance.
  They watched as the eagle dodged the dragon’s clumsy 
  attack and went on the offensive. Sparks flew as the 
  eagle warrior’s blade made contact with dragon scales 
  once, and then again. A collective gasp of disbelief 
  escaped their lips as the raptor disengaged itself from the 
  injured beast and headed directly for them.
  “The human must be mad or suicidal, my lord. Surely he 
  does not intend…” The sorcerer never finished the thought 
  as Agnariel lost his composure. He backhanded the 
  stammering elf across the face, sending him flying off the 
  platform to the ground below.
  Clenching his fists in frustration, Lord Timbor screamed 
  down at his battle sorcerers, “I have lost half my dragons 
  this day, and you make feeble excuses!” Spittle flew from 
  his mouth as he raged at the assembled spellcasters, 
  “Your warlocks have flown six dragons into oblivion!”
  Tagnariel Timbor, Lord Timbor’s general and younger 
  cousin, as well as his chief rival for the frost elf throne, 
  shouted a warning to his king from his own woolly 
  mammoth mount. “Agnar, you need to dismount now!” 
  he said. Tagnariel pointed at the feathered missile and its 
  human rider bearing down on them as it left the slower 
  pursuing dragons far behind. The younger elf turned to 
  the archers and battle mages and shouted, “Archers, fire 
  at will! Sorcerers, prepare defensive spells! Protect your 
  king!”
  Glancing sidelong at his rival, Agnariel drew his curved 
  sword and faced the hurtling eagle. He seethed at the 
  use of his childhood nickname instead of proper title, but 
  his confidence grew as he felt protective magic begin to 
  ripple around him. “You would like that, wouldn’t you, 
  cousin?” the king muttered. He spat the final word as 
  though it left a lingering unpleasantness in his mouth. 
  “For my people to see me leap out of danger’s way in 
  some undignified manner? Not this day, Tag. You will not 
  steal my thunder. Today I carve my name into history.”
  ***
  “Brace yourself, human!” Screech yelled back to Bron as 
  it saw the waves of magic surrounding the frost elf king 
  ripple like heat rising from a forge. The bird could also 
  see that the spell was not complete and the casters would 
  not have time to finish their incantation before impact. 
  Extending its talons, the eagle felt the protective spell 
  give way. It collided with the frost elf king as though he 
  were a fish in a lake.
  The elf tried to twist away, but the eagle’s right talon 
  tore into Agnariel Timbor’s breast plate. The force of the 
  impact sent the elven monarch hurtling from the back of 
  his mammoth.
  Momentum carried the bird and its rider past the 
  assembled frost elves to the edge of a small stand of 
  pine trees, where they hit the ground with bone-jarring 
  force, sliding across snow and muddy earth. They came 
  to a stop in a pile of feathers and blood. The collision 
  with the mad frost elf had broken the eagle’s leg, and the 
  king’s razor-edged blade had sliced along its underbelly. 
  At least one of the archers had aimed true, as a crossbow 
  protruded from the bird’s chest, blood leaking from a 
  punctured lung.
  Even though the jolt was cushioned by the body of his 
  mount, Bron was stunned by the impact. Unaware of the 
  full extent of the eagle’s injuries, he used his sword, still 
  gripped in his right hand, to stand woozily on unsteady 
  legs. His entire body aching, he shook the fog from his 
  
  Page 9
  brain and stared down at 
  the prone eagle, noticing 
  the red mess spilling from its 
  abdomen.
  “I am the last of my kind, Bron 
  Straker,” rasped the dying bird 
  in a barely audible voice. It was 
  the first time the eagle had called 
  him by name. Dark red blood flowed 
  from its hooked beak and nostrils. 
  “Do not let the death of my race be in 
  vain.”
  Bron stared in dazed disbelief as the light faded 
  from the proud bird’s fierce eyes. The harsh reality 
  of his situation slowly sunk in.
  “This is where I am going to die,” he said.
  He didn’t feel the way he thought he should feel. 
  There was no fear, no regret, no panic or sadness. 
  There was just cold, calm rage. He heard shouts in 
  a language he did not understand. Bron gripped his 
  gore-encrusted sword and slowly turned to meet his 
  death.
  Looking up the slight rise he had just slid down 
  seconds before, he saw at least two dozen archers 
  and twice that number of foot soldiers spreading out 
  in a semi-circle as they advanced down the hill. The 
  remaining six dragons now circled above, awaiting 
  their orders.
  ***
  Dabbing blood from a gash in his forehead, Agnariel 
  Timbor looked down at the pathetic human and briefly 
  admired the man’s tenacity. Scorched from dragon fire 
  and bleeding from at least a dozen injuries, the warrior 
  from Ravenholt still stood, ready to battle to the last.
  “Take him alive,” ordered the frost elf king. “I will enjoy 
  torturing this one at my leisure.”
  As he spoke, the human’s head snapped up, and 
  their gazes locked briefly. Agnariel could see the fiery 
  determination in the man’s eyes as he suddenly charged 
  his frost elf attackers. The cornered prey had turned on 
  the predator.
  Even though he didn’t understand what was said, the 
  imperious, pompous tone in the frost elf’s voice set 
  something off in Bron’s head.
  Growling incoherently, his vision waving in a red haze, 
  the human tore into the surprised elven elite. Wielding 
  his sword with both hands, the enraged human hewed 
  through foes like a lumberjack through saplings. He 
  possessed by the Illunar elves. That weakness is the 
  only reason you humans have been allowed to thrive and 
  overpopulate this earth. That same weakness allowed my 
  ancestor, Sarel Timbor, to ride forth from Thantwilanoria 
  in exile. Thantwilanoria will feel the consequences of their 
  weakness, as your people have felt them today.”
  “Sounds like a lot of fancy excuses, thrown around by a 
  cowardly fop of a false king!” Bron responded. “Human 
  As the frost elves fell from the human’s ferocious 
  attack, a red-robed sorcerer appeared on the hill and 
  began to mouth the words of a spell.
  {                             }
  fought with the desperation of the damned, with the 
  strength of a man with nothing to lose. Dead elves piled 
  up around him as he dodged and weaved through their 
  defenses. He bled, but he refused to relent. With each 
  stroke of his blade, Bron thought of a lost loved one: his 
  wife, his son, his parents.  He killed the elves for all the 
  good people of Ravenholt that had lost their lives this day. 
  Through all this, he kept Agnariel Timbor, the source of 
  his ire and the cause of his pain, in his sights.
  As the frost elves fell from the human’s ferocious attack, 
  a red-robed sorcerer appeared on the hill and began to 
  mouth the words of a spell. The mage’s high-pitched 
  crooning became a rhythmic wailing that sent chills down 
  Bron’s spine. The foot soldiers gratefully withdrew as he 
  continued his peculiar incantation, leaving the savage, 
  blood-covered human alone among their dead.
  Knowing he was doomed if the sorcerer finished his 
  spell, Bron shouted at the frost elf king. “You need foul 
  sorcery to bring me down, frost elf pig?” he barked in 
  the common tongue spoken throughout the continent 
  of Ta-Teharun. “Is that pretty sword at your side just 
  decoration?” Bron bellowed. “Is there none among you 
  who can face me in honorable combat, or has all the 
  honor been bred out of your vile race? Bron saw anger 
  flash across Agnariel’s face, and he spat toward the elven 
  king, punctuating the insult.
  Agnariel raised a hand, and the sorcerer’s stopped his 
  incantation. “I am not bound by hollow, baseless codes 
  of honor embraced by the lesser races,” he replied. “We 
  follow no moral creed. Honor and morality is a weakness 
  kings earn their thrones through the strength of their 
  sword arms, not through some questionable blood claim. 
  You are a cowardly dog, and your victory will be short 
  lived.”
  Several of the assembled soldiers bristled at the insults 
  directed at their king and their lineage, but Agnariel 
  also noticed a number of thinly veiled smiles. Was there 
  already a plan to usurp his throne?
  “Allow me to part this filthy human’s head from his body, 
  Agnar!” said Tagnariel, speaking loud enough for most of 
  the onlooking elves to hear.
  Agnariel seethed. Now he would have to accept the 
  human’s challenge. To refuse after his cousin’s offer 
  would be suicide. Some among them already looked to 
  Tagnariel as the stronger of the two, and allowing his 
  cousin to fight for him would seal his fate. Glaring at his 
  cousin, Agnariel drew his sword. “I accept your challenge, 
  human,” he said, and he smiled as cheers erupted from 
  his bloodthirsty soldiers.
  Shoving Tagnariel roughly out of his way, the king 
  gracefully slipped his white fox fur cloak from his 
  shoulders, revealing the signature ice-blue armor of the 
  Timborian elves.
  “Hold my cloak, Tag.”
  Now it was Tagnariel’s turn to be embarrassed, as he 
  subserviently bent to retrieve his older cousin’s discarded 
  garment.
  
  Page 10
  Bron shrugged off his own 
  scorched, eagle feather cloak 
  and spun his sword on its 
  wrist thong as he watched his 
  opponent approach.
  The elf moved with catlike grace 
  and speed, also spinning his 
  sword, while pulling a broad, curved 
  black blade from his belt. The edge 
  was crusted with a noxious green 
  substance that could only be poison.
  Bron circled to his right, stepping over frost elf 
  corpses, taunting his adversary as he moved. “It would 
  seem your rule is more fragile than you think, eh, pig?” 
  Bron grinned wolfishly. “Political climate a bit stormy?”
  Agnariel answered the taunts with steel, attacking with 
  magically enhanced speed. Bron barely had time to 
  parry the overhead slash aimed at his head. As their 
  blades met with a ringing clash, the elf swept his knife 
  in front of him from left to right. Bron used his greater 
  bulk and strength to push the elf back, and he felt the 
  poisoned blade cut through his leather vest, but it did 
  not reach the skin.
  Anxious to keep the elf on the defensive, Bron launched 
  an offensive flurry, slashing and hacking, back and 
  forth, up and down, keeping his feet moving. He tried 
  to gain the higher ground, but Agnariel was skilled. 
  He expertly parried and dodged, giving ground but 
  not retreating. All the while he kept his poisoned blade 
  poised to strike, waiting for an opening in the human’s 
  ferocious assault.
  Determined to wear the elf down or shatter his sword, 
  Bron continued to batter his smaller opponent, until 
  the elf went down on one knee, holding his sword up 
  before him in a desperate attempt at defense. Seeing 
  his opening, Bron stepped in and swept his sword low, 
  aiming below Agnariel’s upraised weapon, only to feel his 
  blade cut through nothing but air. It had been a ruse.
  The elf leaned back and brought his sword down on 
  Bron’s blade, pinning the tip to the ground, while the 
  blade in his left hand sliced horizontally, slicing deep into 
  the bicep of the human’s right arm.
  Bron felt the blade tear through his flesh and muscle, 
  cutting tendons and ligaments and rendering his sword 
  arm useless. The sword fall from his limp grasp and 
  dangled from its wrist thong. He could feel the poison 
  coursing its way through his blood stream, at first 
  tingling, then burning. His legs suddenly felt weak, and 
  drawing breath became difficult as his chest began to 
  constrict. He took a couple of staggering steps backward 
  before falling to his knees.
  Sheathing his sword, Agnariel watched as the poison took 
  effect. The frost elf casually approached the dying human, 
  bent over and grasped the man’s hair with his right hand, 
  and placed the bloodied blade of his knife to Bron’s neck. 
  Leaning in close he whispered, “After I kill you, I will have 
  my necromancers reanimate your filthy, louse-ridden 
  corpse. Then I will shred your spirit to shreds and hunt 
  down your soul. I will deliver it to Zareesha myself so that 
  she may torment you for eternity in hell.”
  Bron’s left hand slid slowly up his thigh as he met the 
  frost elf’s gaze. “I’m not dead yet, pig,” he growled, hate 
  burning in his eyes. With his last effort he brought his left 
  arm up.
  Protruding from between his  index and middle fingers 
  was a short, sharp push knife. All eagle warriors, carried 
  them to cut away saddle straps in a hurry. This one cut 
  through more than saddle straps. The blade punched 
  through fine chain link, into Agnariel’s abdomen, between 
  his belt and breast plate. Bron twisted the blade, 
  searching for the elf’s vitals as the first arrow hit him in 
  the chest. He fell back as Agnariel sought to hold in his 
  bowels, a look of shock on his pale blue face.
  Through a bloody haze, Bron saw Tagnariel Timbor’s 
  arm fall, and another arrow hit him in the shoulder. He 
  fell to his back, reaching to the sky with his left hand. 
  He thought he saw the ghostly image of an eagle before 
  everything went black. Bron Straker, last of the eagle 
  warriors of Ravenholt, breathed his last breath.
  ***
  Far to the south of Ravenholt, under the protective 
  boughs of the great pines bordering Ravens Valley and 
  the outskirts of the Graode Mountains, Argemon the blind 
  seer stood facing the burning city of Ravenholt.
  His aged, milky white eyes turned to the sky. At his side 
  was a woman, a cowl pulled over her chestnut brown hair, 
  covering her pretty face. Her dark eyes were moist and 
  red. In her arms she held a child, a boy, no more than a 
  year old, who was contentedly sleeping in his mother’s 
  arms.
  “He will never know his father,” she said softly.
  Argemon reached out and stroked the boy’s dark hair. 
  “He will know of him, Shianna,” the old man responded. 
  He turned away from the valley, and said to the child, 
  “They will sing songs of your father’s heroics, Grom, son 
  of Bron.”
  Argemon put his hands on Shianna’s shoulders. “You saw 
  the dragons were widening their circles over the valley, 
  searching for survivors. If not for your husband’s heroics, 
  we would never have made it out of the valley. It’s almost 
  as if he knew,” the old man finished softly, as if talking to 
  himself.
  “That does not make it any less painful, Father,” Shianna 
  responded. They walked in silence for a little while.
  As they reached the clearing, Argemon leaned over and 
  whispered in his daughter’s ear. “You need to be strong 
  now Shianna, not only for Grom, but for them,” he 
  said, nodding toward the hundred or so escapees from 
  Ravenholt who had gathered here. He paused before 
  continuing. “And for the unborn daughter you now carry 
  in your womb.”
  Shianna snapped her head around, eyes wide with 
  surprise. “Are you sure, Father?” she asked, already 
  knowing the answer.
  “Yes, my dear. Now, let’s get started. We have a long 
  day and perilous journey before us.” The old man started 
  walking down the trail that led through the wooded 
  foothills of the Graode Mountains, sweeping his gnarled 
  staff before him, and the weary survivors began their 
  long trek.
  In amongst the band’s meager supplies, buried beneath 
  the dried food, medical supplies, and water skins on one 
  of the small, mule-pulled supply wagon, packed with 
  warm furs and hay, were fifteen unhatched eagle eggs.
  
  Page 11
  Through the Lens of History: Using History for 
  Better Gaming
  Vision XVI: Wolfskins and Berserks
  Warrior Types of Ancient Germany and the Nordic World
  by Sean Holland
  “Berserks snorted as the battle began,
  wolf-warriors howled and shook weapons.”
   
  -Haralds saga Hárfagra
  Humanity has always looked to animals for inspiration: 
  as swift as a hawk, as brave as a lion, as loyal as a 
  hound.  Warriors especially have looked to the animal 
  kingdom, calling upon the strength and perceived 
  virtues of animals.  
  In this article, the Lens will look at how warriors of the 
  German tribes and the Norse used animal imagery, 
  especially the wolf and the bear.
  Part I - The History
  Evidence for the various types of animal warriors is in 
  some cases fairly slender, with most information drawn 
  from legends and sagas or inferred from other sources.
  The wolf is a common symbol and shares a resonance 
  with warrior groups from the Native Americans to the 
  steppes nomads of central Asia. Wolves hunt in packs, 
  are hierarchical and loyal to their pack-mates; all good 
  things for a warrior band to emulate.  The wolf is also a 
  skilled hunter, master of its terrain and a hardy traveler 
  - again all good skills for a warrior.  By taking on the 
  nature of the wolf, warriors sought to make themselves 
  better warriors; faster, fiercer and more deadly, like the 
  wolf.
   
  Those who became wolf warriors wore the skin of the 
  wolf, its skull as a headdress with the skin draped across 
  their back. Sometimes the fur of the forelegs was tied 
  across the warrior’s chest, others it would be sew to 
  the sleeves of his clothing.  Some wolf warriors fought 
  without any armor at all, wearing only the wolf skin and 
  relying upon speed for protection. Others wore the wolf 
  skin over mail or armor.  The wolf skin both symbolized 
  the warrior’s link with the wolf and made them look 
  ferocious and frightening in battle.  The wolf warriors 
  probably barked and howled to build their own courage 
  and unnerve their enemies, they may even have danced 
  to summon the spirit of the wolf to aid them.
  There seemed to be no standard weapons used by the 
  wolf warriors.  Germanic and Norse wolf warriors used the 
  same sorts of swords, axes, spears and shields as other 
  warriors.  Because they were an elite warrior society 
  within a warrior culture, Wolf warriors were expected to 
  be able to strike hard and fast.  They may have been 
  used as shock troops and it is possible that they were 
  often part of the bodyguards of chieftains and kings. 
   
  It may have been a tradition for those who followed 
  the wolf to strike out on their own. It may have been 
  common for young warriors, sometimes from different 
  tribes, to gather together as wolf warriors and act as 
  adventurers and bandits. Some may even have been able 
  to take their success in war to claim their own land and 
  found a new tribe. For instance, youthful wolf warriors 
  who were seeking a new homeland for themselves may 
  have founded the Germanic Alamanni tribe. (Alamanni 
  means “all-men” in the sense of coming from everywhere, 
  not as in all-male.)  
   
   
  Even the Romans traced the founding of their city to two 
  brothers, Romulus and Remus, who were suckled by a 
  she-wolf.  The army of the early Roman Republic fielded 
  velites, who acted as skirmishers, they were youths 
  armed with javelins and protected by wolf skins and 
  shields.
  Where the wolf warriors were part of a group (a pack, if 
  you will) bear warriors were rarer and often fought alone 
  as champions, such as Bothvar Bjarki (“battle bear”) the 
  champion of the 14th century Danish King Hrolf.  Like the 
  wolf warriors, bear warriors wore the skin of their chosen 
  animal, a more impressive feat as bears are harder to kill 
  than wolves.
   
  The term berserk may have originated as ‘bearsark’ or 
  bear shirt but that is disputed (it can also mean ‘bare 
  shirt’, i.e. without a shirt or armor). The bear warriors 
  share a reputation for savagery and toughness with the 
  berserkers.  Both were said to be able to shrug off edged 
  weapons without harm and slay many times their own 
  number of foes.  Those who wore the bearskin seem 
  to have been the largest and strongest of warriors and 
  preferred large weapons (when they did not tear their 
  foes apart with their bare hands).
   
  Both types of animal warrior were well respected by their 
  allies and feared by their foes.  In legend, both bear and 
  wolf warriors had the ability to change form into their 
  respective animals, making them even more fearsome 
  in battle.  There may have been other types of animal 
  warriors in the Germanic tribes, such as buck and martin 
  warriors, but only the barest of evidence about them has 
  survived.
  Part II- Breaking it apart and putting it back 
  together
  The bear and wolf warriors make for interesting foes if 
  the characters are fighting tribal enemies.  They are fierce 
  and loyal, forming the elite of a tribal military force.  But 
  they are also likely to be honorable and fair, at least in 
  their own light.  They should be noble, if dangerous, foes.
  
  Page 12
  Equally, the players could choose to play members 
  of a new band of wolf warriors out to build their own 
  reputations and, possibly, more.  Such a campaign would 
  give structure to the characters’ travels, as they seek 
  adventure and deal with local tribes and chieftains.
   
  For a more unusual campaign, one or more of the 
  characters may be inspired to start a new society of 
  animal warriors, perhaps calling upon an animal such 
  as the lynx or the wolverine.  Such a campaign would 
  involve both spiritual and metaphysical quests to find the 
  essence of the animal and political challenges as the new 
  society attempted to make a place for itself in the greater 
  society. 
  Supplemental Material:
  Germanic Wolf-related names
  Isangrim (“Grey-Mask”)
  Scrutolf (“Garb-Wolf”)
  Wolfdregil (“Wolf-Runner”)
  Wolfgang (“Wolf-Gait”)
  Wolfhetan (“Wolf-Hide”) 
  Wolfhroc (“Wolf-Frock”)
  Supplemental d20 Material:
  New Feats
  Bear Warrior [General]
  You stand as the bear, unafraid and alone, able to defeat any foe.
  Prerequisites: Ability to rage, Base Attack +6, Con 15.
  Benefit: You gain a +2 bonus on Intimidate checks (raised to +3 when wearing a bear skin) 
  and +2 to saves against fear.  While raging you gain Damage Reduction 2/bludgeoning and 
  the ability to make a demoralize opponent attempt as a free action, once per round.
  Note: The Damage Reduction granted by this feat will stack with that gained from the 
  Barbarian class.  So a 13th level barbarian with this feat, while raging, has DR 5/bludgeoning 
  or DR 3/- whichever is most effective against the attack.
  Wolf Warrior [General]
  You have learned the way of the wolf, making you a better warrior.
  Prerequisites: Base Attack +1, Survival 2 ranks.
  Benefit: You gain a +2 bonus on Intimidate checks (raised to +3 when wearing a wolf skin) 
  and gain +4 saves against fear when in the presence of one or more other members of your 
  wolf band.  You further gain a +1 bonus to all Charisma based skill checks when dealing with 
  both wolves and wolf warriors.
  Wolf Warrior Pack [General]
  Like the wolf, you know how to hunt and kill as part of a pack.
  Prerequisites: Ability to rage, Wolf Warrior.
  Benefit: You gain an additional +1 to attack when flanking a foe, this bonus is increased to 
  +2 if the person you are flanking with also has this feat.  While raging, if you and another 
  person with this feat flank an enemy, you both gain +1d6 of sneak attack damage on your 
  attacks against the flanked foe.  Further, you are immune to fear while raging in the presence 
  of one or more other members of your wolf band.
  
  Page 13
  Lights, Camera, Action!
  Cinematic Deconstruction of d20 Modern
  by J. Carpio
  It’s a new 
  year and time for another trip into 
  the cinema fantastic. One of the 
  promises I made to myself over these 
  past few months was that I would eat, 
  crow and play the one system that I 
  have been against from the beginning: 
  d20. As I am writing this, I am a few 
  weeks into the d20 Modern campaign 
  that I started with my gaming group. I 
  don’t mean just to pick on the system and 
  give it a negative word. What I am saying 
  is that the system is not as broken as a lot 
  of people tend to make it seem, and with the 
  right tweaks it can be as cinematic as the next 
  system. 
  I think personally my bitterness regarding d20 
  stems from the fact that it is too mainstream, 
  that nearly every company is pushing their 
  product in the OGL direction and jumping on a 
  train that will eventually fall off a cliff when the 
  tracks start to get warped.  By now, the over-flooded 
  RPG market has over 5,000 d20 supplements and 
  rule books.  When you consider the mainstream 
  companies and indie designers that pump out new 
  stuff on a weekly basis, the number of supplements 
  just goes up and up. 
  So, I have collected a pretty good d20 library over 
  the past few years. I did not buy the books to play 
  as much as I used them as source material for other 
  things I was doing at the time (GURPS, Fuzion, 
  Unisystem, etc).  Although I do not like the system, 
  that’s not to say the material within its supplements 
  is bad.  
  Just before the holidays, I acquired a copy of d20 
  Modern: The Roleplaying Game.  This is not my first copy, 
  mind you.  The last one went away on a eBay frenzy a 
  while back, because I swore never to run the system. Did 
  I end up giving my money to WotC twice? Well, yes, but I 
  guess a lesson learned is never cheap. 
  Anyway, my gaming group had been getting a little 
  restless.  I had been doing a lot of one shots, but never 
  stuck to one storyline, so interest had been falling by the 
  wayside. I needed to give them something that would 
  stick in their role-playing gullets. After crawling through 
  my ”Closet O’ Games,” I came across my new copy of d20 
  Modern and decided, ”What the hell?”  
  I had to re-educate myself on the rules. It had been some 
  time since I last looked at them, and although the basic 
  concepts are pretty simple, once you start getting into 
  things like feats and attacks of opportunity, the game can 
  bog down.  d20 in general looks like a revamped version 
  of what we found in the original editions of D&D and 
  AD&D. The problem, in my opinion, is that WotC tried to 
  focus too much on the tactical side of the game and left a 
  lot of the role-playing bits to ”GM discretion.”  
  So I re-read the rules, participated in some chats with 
  other d20 players on various message boards about how 
  they were handling the rules, and finally felt comfortable 
  with the fact that I was going to run this game. I had no 
  argument from the players with the choice of system, 
  as they seemed to own copies of the book.  One of my 
  players even went out and bought a copy! 
  The prep work was not too bad.  I copied down a few stat 
  blocks for the combatants, downloaded some interesting 
  alternate rules and feats off the net, and with a few notes 
  on the campaign typed and printed out, I was ready to 
  run. 
  What I learned in that first run taught me some new 
  things about a system that I am surprised to find myself 
  actually enjoying.  I am a person who does not like to 
  modify rules until I understand them.  I found that the 
  d20 system is not as broken as I had thought…it just 
  needed  a few more ingredients.
  I wanted a pulp/HK action movie feel to the game, 
  but when I played purist with the mechanics it did not 
  perform as I wanted it to.  If you want to run a really 
  gritty game with a high mortality rate, then run the rules 
  as is.  d20 Modern is well formulated for playing out non-
  cinematic adventures. Granted, you have action points to 
  allow you re-rolls and give you a better edge, but you are 
  not going to be able to play out your favorite John Woo 
  film by the book. Below are some thoughts on the system 
  and some of the additions I have used (or plan to use) 
  to bring about a more Hollywood-like feel to this very 
  tactical-minded system. 
  Action Points:
  d20 Modern gives the option for the GM to allow a player 
  character to use action points. These points allow the 
  PCs to alter fate a bit in their favor in order to make the 
  actions and choices they make in the game have more 
  impact. According to the d20 Modern SRD, the system 
  allows the player to use action points to do one of the 
  following:
  • 
  Alter a single d20 roll used to 
  make an attack, a skill check, an ability 
  check, a level check, or a saving throw.
  • 
  Use a class talent or class 
  feature during your turn for which 
  the expenditure of 1 action point is 
  required.
  A character can only spend one action point in a round. If 
  a character spends a point to use a class feature or feat, 
  he or she can’t spend another one in the same round to 
  improve a die roll, and vice versa.  The action point allows 
  the player to roll a d6 and add it to the roll. It might not 
  seem like much, but in a crunch those extra 1 or 2 points 
  added to the outcome could make or break a scene.
  Personally, I do not see what sort of action these points 
  allow. Using this method the points would be better 
  named ”survival points,” as they allow the player to 
  
  Page 14
  survive situations, not take action.  As the character 
  gains experience he or she gets to roll additional dice 
  when using an action point, but in my opinion you need 
  the extra dice at lower levels, not when your character is 
  already proficient with his or her abilities.  
  The GM might allow the following house rules to make 
  things a bit more ”action-oriented.”  Allow the player to 
  re-roll the d20 to better the chance instead of adding 
  a d6 roll. The player still might still miss the DC, but at 
  least there is the chance of actually getting a better roll. 
  If the re-roll does not seem fair, then allow the players 
  to roll 1 d6 for every level or two levels they have under 
  their belts. This also allows the players to have that Pulp 
  Hero factor, where at a certain level of experience they 
  can pretty much change the fate of the world and never 
  fail a roll. 
  Action points should also be used to give the player a 
  chance to do a re-write. By burning an action point, the 
  player can give his character’s perspective of the story, 
  or point out a plot twist that might fit in nicely with 
  the current action.  Players should be encouraged to 
  use action points like this.  It adds a nice story-in-the-
  round feel to the game and can add to all the players’ 
  enjoyment by allowing them to GM by proxy for a 
  moment or two. The GM is, of course, the final arbitrator 
  of what goes on in her game, but I have seen many a 
  time where a player will come up with a plot twist that 
  makes the story better.
  Lastly, the GM can use action points to allow the player to 
  take a flesh wound instead of a killing blow.  A character 
  will only be knocked silly if he takes his Constitution score 
  or more in non-lethal damage.  It can be beneficial to 
  allow a player to take a hit that would normally kill him 
  and just knock him unconscious.  Again, this use of the 
  action point can be vetoed, but can help the GM achieve a 
  more cinematic flow in her game.
  Circumstantial Bonuses:
  The d20 rules state that the GM can give a circumstantial 
  bonus of +1 or +2 to a player if the action seems 
  appropriate, or it is used above and beyond the scope for 
  which it was meant. While this is a great thing when you 
  are trying to squeak by a moderately high DC, it does 
  not do much when the pressure is on and you need to 
  succeed against multiple odds. 
  Taking the cue from great RPGs such as Feng Shui, 
  Wu Shu, and Exalted, the circumstantial bonus can be 
  handled in a more cinematic and exciting way. With the 
  GM’s approval, the player can stack on what I like to call 
  ”frills.”  A frill might consist of knocking a glass of wine 
  into the air as the player begins to shoot his pistol, or 
  the player might describe falling backwards and knocking 
  the table into midair as she pulls her twin 45s and shoots 
  through it to surprise her opponent. Each heartbeat of 
  the action can add a frill; it’s just a matter of the players’ 
  creativity and what the GM will allow.  
  As the player describes her action, she may opt to add 
  a frill to the action to add a +1 bonus to the roll. The 
  players can add as many frills as they have levels, so a 5th 
  level character can add up to +5 in frills during an action.  
  The GM might wish to limit the use of frills in his or her 
  campaign to make things a little difficult for the players, 
  but in general they are harmless and allow the players to 
  achieve higher odds at lower levels. 
  Mooks:
  These are those fun guys whom the players mow down 
  like bowling pins. They are the stage dressing, the cannon 
  fodder, and the group of private mercenaries that the 
  hero always seems to take out with only a scratch to 
  show for the effort. 
  The idea of disposable villains is almost psychological.  In 
  the case of movies, it gives the viewer the illusion that 
  the hero is a total badass and can mow though the bad 
  guys like a weed whacker through dandelions.  In an 
  RPG, the mook is a device to give the players a bit of self-
  confidence and massive amounts of minor experience, 
  but also serves as an appetizer for the big baddie yet to 
  come. 
  I handle mooks with a simple formula. Create a generic 
  thug: nothing special, just some low-life with some 
  basic skills and weapons. You will want to make the 
  level appropriate to the player characters so as to 
  not overpower them or give them too hard of a time 
  (remember, these are the characters’ chew toys for the 
  session). The scale I have been using is if the party is 
  between 1st-level and 3rd-level, make the mooks 1st-
  level; if the party is 4th-level thru 7th-level make them 
  2nd-level, and so on. The levels should only be in place 
  for skill and feat considerations. 
  Other d20 Alternatives
  Since the focus of this article is d20 Modern: The 
  Roleplaying Game by Wizards of the Coast, I did not 
  want to stray too much from the core system when 
  talking about house rules and alterations. There are 
  other d20 games out on the market as well as a 
  few good supplements that can make your life a lot 
  easier. 
  Over the past four years, d20 has spawned a number 
  of mutant children, so there is a lot of material free 
  or otherwise. Take a look at some of those resources 
  and pick and choose.  The core mechanics are more 
  or less the same, and after a while you can have a 
  d20 game that fits your GM style and budget.
  Big Eyes Small Mouths d20 (BESM) by Guardians 
  of Order is an excellent choice for running very 
  cinematic, anime-style games. It takes away a lot 
  of the conventions put into place by D&D and the 
  d20 Modern rules, makes the system totally free of 
  classes, and gives a point-buy system that makes 
  characters more to your liking and not cookie-cutter. 
  You will still need a copy of the core d20 rules either 
  way, but it gives you a wonderful change of pace. 
  Mutants and Masterminds by Green Ronin gives 
  another wonderful set of rules created using the OGL 
  model of d20. What this game offers us is a great 
  point-buy system (like BESM), plus the ability to 
  create items and gadgets.  Just pick a power, add a 
  few extras and boom!, you’ve got an instant bit of 
  coolness. The system is primarily for supers role-
  playing, but if you are planning to do low-level pulp 
  or gritty comics (like The Punisher), this book fits like 
  a glove. 
  
  Page 15
  The real mechanics come into play with hit points and the 
  ability to hurt the other characters. A mook should have 
  no more than 4 hit points per level, so a 1st-level mook 
  would have 4 HP, a 2nd-level mook would have 8, and 
  3rd-level mooks would have 12. These low amounts of hit 
  points ensure that the players can slice through them like 
  a hot knife through butter. 
  This is not all.  It would be annoying if the GM had to 
  keep track of each mook that the players are beating 
  up on, so any damage that does not equal or exceed 
  the mook’s total HP does not kill him.  The mook is just 
  symbolically wounded and is available to beat up on the 
  players in the next round. The GM may want to assign a 
  –1 or –2 penalty for any of this symbolic damage, but in 
  most cases it is unnecessary. 
  The next part of the formula is handling damage to the 
  characters. As Hollywood has shown us, the cannon 
  fodder usually cannot hit the side of a barn, but once in 
  a while they do get lucky. In game mechanics, the mook 
  cannot even touch a player character unless the GM rolls 
  a natural 19 or 20 and cannot do critical damage even 
  if the weapon dictates it falls into this critical range. Roll 
  damage as normal, lather, rinse, and repeat. 
  This is a modification of the d20 mook rules used by 
  Robin D. Laws in his d20 crossover book Burning Shoulin, 
  and I highly recommend the book for its other bits of high 
  flying, Chinese wire fu Wuxia style rules adapted for the 
  d20 system. If you are into the ”Wire Fu” of Hong Kong 
  cinema, this supplement is for you.
  Feat Purchases and Use:
  Feats in the d20 system are the meat and potatoes of 
  your character concept. These are the special things 
  that allow your character to kick ass and take names, to 
  stand above the rest, and to perform heroic actions and 
  deeds. It is a shame that the system limits these abilities 
  by restricting the number of feats you can have and by 
  giving them unobtainable prerequisites at the characters’ 
  lower levels. These rules are there for a reason, and 
  a player can become too powerful if feats are abused. 
  However, there are a couple of things the GM can do to 
  help a player get his concept into motion without forcing 
  him to wait three levels before the character can be 
  played as conceptualized. 
  My suggestion is to sit down with the player and find out 
  why this character would be totally lame if he did not 
  have the requested feat. If it all sounds solid, as the GM 
  you may allow the player to sacrifice either a couple of 
  points of attributes or future experience points to buy the 
  other feats needed to take the more advanced one. This 
  should only be allowed at character generation and not 
  after play has begun. A good rule of thumb is to allow 1-2 
  character points or 100–200 experience points per extra 
  feat taken. 
  The feats that require action points to activate should, in 
  most cases, be allowed to work without burning the point. 
  Treat this as you would a circumstantial bonus: if the 
  player is doing something cool with the feat, allow him to 
  pull it off without using up that precious action point.
  Attacks of Opportunity:
  Sometimes a combatant in a melee lets her guard down. 
  In this case, combatants near her can take advantage 
  of that lapse in defense to attack her for free. These 
  free attacks are called attacks of opportunity (AoO).  
  My honest advice on this is to ignore this rule. Attacks 
  of opportunity are just another way that companies 
  use to try and push a future war game release, or add 
  unnecessary baggage to their rules set. Most d20 and 
  OGL rules sets toss them out with the bathwater. 
  Here are just a couple of suggestions about eliminating 
  or altering the AoO in your game. Unfortunately, a lot 
  of feats do revolve around the AoO mechanic. This is 
  not a hard obstacle to overcome, but one that can be 
  challenging - especially if a player’s special attack relies 
  on the AoO (such as a thief’s backstab). My suggestion 
  is to keep a few of the elements of the ability, like the 
  threatened area, the 5-foot rule and flanking strategies 
  and just put the rest to bed. 
  If your players don’t rely on the AoO and have no 
  objection, just do away with them. Your combats will run 
  a lot faster and smoother, and you won’t have to have the 
  AoO debates every time someone challenges the rules. If 
  all else, allow the pistol guy to use his pistol in an AoO. 
  It’s kind of annoying and unfair that the only one who 
  can take advantage of the attack of opportunity rule is 
  the thug with the baseball bat, and not the highly trained 
  assassin with his Glock.  
  Other Notes:
  As with any game, your job as the GM is to have fun and 
  make each and every game entertaining for your players. 
  The golden rule is that ”rules are made to be broken,” 
  and that sometimes goes double for role-playing games. 
  Rules are in place to give structure and playability, but 
  if you cannot enjoy your investment (and yes, games 
  these days are quite the financial investment) then you 
  might as well have your friends over for Monopoly night. 
  My advice is geared to making your d20 Modern games 
  a bit more enjoyable and not over-burdened with failures 
  and rules that bog down play. My advice: learn the rules 
  and start to deconstruct. After a while, you will have 
  something that is priceless: a system that works for you, 
  and not you for it. 
  
  Page 16
  I have recently been in touch with Malcolm Craig, line 
  developer at Contested Ground Studios and developer 
  of the game a| state. Being as that he is in Scotland 
  and I in the United States, a tête-à-tête was not 
  possible. Thankfully, he was willing to conduct a small 
  e-mail interview with me.
  Why don’t you start by telling us a little bit about 
  who you are and what you do inside the company 
  on your own and as a company as a whole?
  Hello! I’m Malcolm Craig, a| state line developer at 
  Contested Ground Studios, Scotland’s latest foray into 
  the games industry. I decided to write a role-playing 
  game because mushroom collecting was too toxic and 
  slightly damp. Game writing is drier but books don’t 
  taste as good in an omelette...
  ...or perhaps not. Anyway, I’m essentially the guy who 
  persuaded a bunch of talented people to join me on a 
  road into the unknown and collaborate on producing 
  what has become a| state. Luckily, no one has punched 
  me yet. The rest of the company consists of Paul 
  Bourne (our digital art maestro), John Wilson (business 
  manager, web coder and contributing writer), Iain 
  McAllister (currently writing the ‘Mob Justice’ RPG and 
  editor in a| state) and Gregor Hutton (senior editor 
  and contributing writer). CGS is very much a collective 
  effort, with everyone contributing their particular skills, 
  talents and imagination. They’re a great bunch of 
  guys.
  Can you give us an overview of a| state and how 
  the utilized system works?
  a| state is a dark urban world, a nameless city from 
  which you cannot escape. Oh, you can try to escape, 
  but all that happens is you disappear at the borders of 
  The City. The majority of the residents of The City live 
  in gaslit slums, in rotting, derelict concrete towerblocks 
  Interview with Malcom Craig of 
  Contested Ground Studios
  by Nash J. Devita
  or damp, dank brick tenements. Numerous burghs (with 
  name like Mire End, Fogwarren, Long Pond and 
  Dreamingspires), parishes, industrial areas, macrocorp 
  domains and wastelands go to make up the complex 
  geography of The City. There is no central control, with 
  only a few local governments controlling any more than a 
  handful of burghs. The eight macrocorps control most of 
  the access to resources, trickling them out from their 
  domains like Iron Bastion, Luminosity Tower and Konkret. 
  The City is haunted by myth, legend and folklore. The 
  dark shadows of The Shifted stalk the alleys and canals. 
  The apocalyptic legends of The Shift and The 
  Bombardment haunt The City up to the present day.
  As for the system, it’s pretty much a simple percentile 
  system, a type familiar from quite a few other games. 
  The rules themselves amount to no more than 12 pages, 
  although character generation represents a much larger 
  section of the book. Characters are created by writing 
  down the history, background and personality of the PC, 
  rather than by starting with numbers.
  And there’s no rigid set of rules saying what professions, 
  careers, education a particular character must take. Many 
  different careers are presented (like the ghostfighters, 
  mudlarks, lostfinders or activists), but the player is at 
  liberty to tailor them exactly as they wish. While none 
  of this represents a startlingly innovative approach or 
  anything fundamentally new in mechanics, I feel its fits 
  the setting quite well.
  What were your primary influences for a| state? I 
  get a very Blade Runner feel from it. Is this 
  intentional?
  The influences on a| state have been many and varied. In 
  terms of literature, perhaps the biggest influences would 
  be the likes of Charles Dickens, Mervyn Peake, Joseph 
  Conrad, Iain Banks, M R James, Arthur Conan Doyle, 
  Cordwainer Smith, Philip K Dick and China Mieville. The 
  last name there is one that has proved a bit contentious. 
  Some have pointed out similarities between the 
  marvelous Perdido Street Station and a| state. I read PSS 
  when it came out (which was when I was about half way 
  through developing The City) and was just stunned by the 
  creativity and audacity. I was also a little bit worried that 
  there may be some similarities between PSS and a| state 
  which may be a bit close for comfort. Luckily, Mr Mieville 
  is an extremely friendly and helpful chap and reassured 
  me there was no problem and that we were obviously 
  both fans of the same authors and literary styles (the 
  previously mentioned Dickens and Peake being obvious 
  examples). Hence, China Mieville appears in the ‘thanks’ 
  section on the credits page of a| state. For those of you 
  who have never read his stuff, I’d really urge you to do 
  so, it is absolutely marvelous, truly wonderful writing.
  As with any setting which in some way reflects parts of 
  our own world, non-fiction writing was also influential in 
  the development of the feel and look of the world of ‘The 
  City’. I’ve always had a passion for history, so its natural 
  that some of the stuff I’ve read would come through in 
  the game world. This can range from the fairly dry and 
  dull academic end of the spectrum (like the thrilling Post 
  Victorian Britain, 1902 to 1951 by L B C Seaman or the 
  heart stoppingly exciting Local Government in Britain by 
  Tony Byrne) to the genuinely involving and moving area 
  of historical writing (such as the marvellous Stalingrad’ by 
  Antony Beevor and Mind Forg’d Manacles by Roy Porter). 
  It’s true that Blade Runner did exert an influence over the 
  feel of the setting. Personally, I think its one of the 
  defining works of the cinematic art form. I couldn’t begin 
  to think how many times I’ve watched it! I am a big fan 
  of films, so there plenty that have crept into my mind 
  whilst developing the setting: Angel Heart, Batman (the 
  Tim Burton version, not the brightly coloured ‘KAPOW!’ 
  1960’s one), Great Expectations (Charles Dickens makes 
  an appearance again), Hell Is A City, Kiss Me Deadly, La 
  Dernier Combat, Nikita, Stalker, the list really could go on 
  
  Page 17
  and on. Mamoru Oshii’s Avalon really did amaze me 
  with its visual look when I first saw it, 
  cinematographically it’s one of the best films I’ve seen 
  in years. There are many grossly underrated films out 
  there that contributed in some way to a| state: Jacobs 
  Ladder and Angel Heart are two exceptionally fine 
  psychological horror films which never seem to get the 
  credit they deserve. In films and games, horror should 
  never just be about mutilated corpses, gribbly 
  tentacular blobs and hockey mask wearing men with 
  axes, it’s all about suggestion, uncertainty and mood. 
  The best way to produce horror in a game environment 
  is through fear of the unknown or by subtly altering the 
  familiar to produce unease.
  The entire punk ethic has also played a very big part in 
  a| state, in terms of music, attitude and so on. Paul is 
  also a talented musician; having played bass in the 
  marvelous Scottish punk band Turtlehead (he also 
  designed their albums, making him very much the 
  renaissance man of CGS).
  But it’s really the punk ethic of change and revolution 
  which features most heavily in a| state. Then again, the 
  entire indie RPG scene is quite ‘punk’ in it’s own way. 
  Lots of people doing it for themselves, producing stuff 
  in back rooms and garages, getting stuff out there 
  because they want to, rather than because a big 
  company tells them to. 
  You mentioned a great list of influences, both 
  print and film. Were you familiar with all of them, 
  including the history texts, previous to writing a| 
  state or did you discover some of them through 
  suggestion, web search, etc. in the course of 
  developing a| state?
  Well, a| state grew out of two things in particular. One 
  is that, essentially, it takes influence from all the things 
  I love in literature, cinema, etc. In addition, I’ve always 
  had an interest in history, society and so forth, so some 
  of it came from the subjects I studied at university 
  (history, sociology and politics mainly). 
  In regard to the main fiction influences, such as 
  Dickens, Conrad, Peake, Ballard and so on, I’d read 
  most of the works cited as influences prior to actually 
  writing the game. For this I’ve really got to thank my 
  father, who encouraged me not only to read anything and 
  everything, but also gave me his entire collection of SF 
  novels when I was a young lad. I’ve got a lot to thank 
  him for. Some works were read, such as the previously 
  mentioned China Mieville, during the time I was fleshing 
  out the basic structure of the game. Others that I perhaps 
  hadn’t read for years, I was suddenly reminded of by 
  something that had been lodged at the bottom of my 
  mental filing cabinet! I finally got round to re-reading a 
  lot of Franz Kafka stuff whilst writing a| state and was 
  reminded of exactly how good he is (particularly In Der 
  Strafkolonie, perhaps one of my top ten short stories). 
  Someone described a| state as ‘Franz Kafka meets Dark 
  City’, which had never struck me before, but which I kind 
  of like. Dark City was one of those films I had to 
  consciously avoid watching while writing a| state, just in 
  case! In fact, I watched it for the first time in years last 
  month. It was great to see it again, marvelous film. 
  There were books that were recommended to me whilst 
  writing, and some of them certainly made me wonder 
  why I’d never read them before! Stuff like the Borribles 
  trilogy by Michael De Larrabeiti (which mad me wonder 
  how it was ever promoted as a series of book for children. 
  Policemen cutting the ears off of kids so that they’ll grow 
  up?)
  Sadly, I had to read some of the more boring history 
  books while I was at university. I wouldn’t want people to 
  think I read Local Government In Britain for fun! Reading 
  a lot of historical stuff (particularly books focusing on the 
  grimmer bits of history) really makes you realize that 
  nothing you portray in a game world even comes close to 
  some of the things that have happened in our world.
  Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been interesting in films. The 
  first movies I remember watching was when I was about 
  five or six years old and BBC2 ran a series of old SF films 
  at 6.00pm on a Monday night. Classics like Forbidden 
  Planet, The Thing From Another World, Invaders From 
  Mars and The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms. I was 
  fascinated by them. As a kid you have this great sense of 
  wonder, where effects and plot don’t matter, it’s all about 
  the ‘wow factor’. I still get that sometimes, reading books 
  and watching films, you hit something that you think is 
  fantastic. It’s a shame that the childlike sense of wonder 
  grows less and less as you grow older. I hope I manage to 
  hold on to mine for a while yet. My passion for films even 
  felt its way into my time at university. I couldn’t believe it 
  when that actually allowed me to do my honors 
  dissertation on Hollywood’s Cold War: American movies 
  during the Cold War and their influence on American 
  society and culture. It was just an excuse to babble on 
  about Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Kiss Me 
  Deadly. I still can’t believe I got away with it.
  When did a| state first come out (over-seas or in 
  the US)? In Addition to that, do you have any 
  previous work in the role playing industry? If so, 
  what is your previous experience and when did it / 
  they occur?
  The a| state main book came out in February of 2004 and 
  was released simultaneously across the world. As for 
  myself, my previous work in the games industry amounts 
  to a grand total of zero. I did have a few small bits and 
  pieces appear in various places, but nothing of any real 
  significance. a| state has been my first real foray into the 
  ‘professional’ RPG world. Paul, on the other hand, has 
  worked in a number of fields. He’s done digital artwork for 
  RPG companies such as BTRC and produced book and 
  album covers. Gregor, now our senior editor, co-wrote an 
  independent game called ‘Frenzy’ back in the mid 
  nineties. Iain, our ‘Mob Justice’ line developer and co-
  editor, has had credits in works such as Spycraft and 
  Shadowforce Archer.
  So what do you think is one of the most important 
  elements when designing a game and how do you 
  reflect that within your own game?
  A role-playing game should (and this is purely my 
  personal opinion) be centered around a rich, involving 
  game world with loads of opportunities for interesting 
  
  Page 18
  play. I’m not much of a systems guy, so setting 
  necessarily takes precedence for me. That’s not to say 
  that there isn’t a place for games where the ‘crunchy’ 
  elements are at the fore. Many people enjoy this style 
  of game, but as a gamer, it’s not what attracts me to 
  any particular RPG. All of my favorite games very much 
  setting-driven: Blue Planet, 2300AD, Jorune and so on. 
  The above is reflected somewhat in the fact that I like 
  not providing stats for everything. OK, so this may 
  sound a bit at odds with what the designer of the game 
  should be doing, but to my mind, there are certain 
  things which should be left vague and mysterious. For 
  example, I have been asked quite a few times if / when 
  we are going to provide stats for the Shifted (the 
  mysterious entities in a| state), as they are not 
  presented in the main book. My answer to this is always 
  that they are so strange and mysterious, so rare and so 
  downright alien to the human mindset, that stats are 
  somewhat pointless. And in addition, I always find that 
  reducing a ‘scary monster’ to a bunch of numbers takes 
  away from the horror and strangeness.
  Then again, I’m perfectly happy for people to come up 
  with stats for the Shifted in their own games!
  The first supplement to a| state, Lost Finder’s 
  Guide to Mire End was recently released. Are 
  there any (shortly) upcoming titles you can tell 
  me about? 
  We’re currently working on the second supplement for 
  the game, entitled Avenues & Alleyways. A&A is the 
  first of our really big additions to the world of The City, 
  in that it presents another 30 fully detailed areas, loads 
  more background information on life in The City, more 
  adventures nuggets and other useful stuff. The key to 
  A&A is presenting new and interesting city areas, areas 
  which will have their own unique feel and adventure 
  possibilities. It would be all very well just to churn out a 
  load more grim slums and so forth, but what we really 
  want to do is make The City more of a fully rounded 
  environment. 
  Working on Avenues & Alleyways has been great 
  because it has provided an opportunity to bring the 
  vision of other writers into the world of The City. I 
  mean, I could churn out a load more areas, but having 
  one person doing all that could easily make the setting 
  stale and repetitive. Whereas, getting fresh, new ideas 
  from others helps to bring the setting alive and keep in 
  vibrant. City areas like Nothing Gate, Ringtown and 
  Machine Quarry have all come from other writers, which 
  delights me. One of the great things about writing a game 
  is seeing what other people make of it. There’s stuff that 
  GMs and players have submitted to us that really takes 
  my breath away, taking the existing setting elements and 
  doing something really imaginative and interesting. 
  The second major supplement for a| state will be Iron 
  Ring. As those who have read the game might have 
  noticed, there’s a certain element of mystery running 
  through the setting; The Shift, The Bombardment, the 
  inability to leave The City and so on. Now, it would be 
  easy just to either leave these as mysteries or to provide 
  a single explanation of what is going on.
  However, the available evidence can fit more than one 
  theory for the whys and wherefores of The City. So what 
  Iron Ring does is provide three plausible explanations for 
  the existence of The City. GM’s can chose which one best 
  fits their campaigns, or use an explanation of their own. 
  Iron Ring will also serve to provide new opportunities, 
  mysteries and adventure ideas. I’m really very excited 
  about it.
  Is there anything you might like to add to the 
  interview? Is there something I may have missed 
  that you think is pertinent or would just like others 
  to know?
  Well, just to show that Contested Ground Studios aren’t a 
  one trick pony, we’re currently working on a few other 
  projects. As well as writing a| state stuff, I’m currently 
  working on another RPG called Everlasting Empire, which 
  is a sort of HG Wells-meets-Dan Dare-meets-Arthur C 
  Clarke kind of thing. Men with moustaches and pipes 
  boldly going where no men with moustaches and pipes 
  have gone before! It’s actually good fun and makes a 
  change from the darker themes of a| state. Our other 
  major project is Mob Justice, written by Iain McAllister. It 
  focuses on an America where prohibition never ended and 
  history took a radically different turn. Trilbys, zoot suits 
  and bootlegging galore!
  So, that’s kind of it for 2005. 2004 was a great year, 
  getting a| state launched, getting our first supplement 
  out and so on. The support we received from so many 
  people (including Silven Crossroads, thank you!) has been 
  wonderful and really encourages us to keep producing 
  stuff. In 2005 we aim to build on that, expand a| state 
  even further and start heading in new directions. It’s all 
  very exciting. I may need to invest heavily in Colombia’s 
  most famous product to keep going. That’s coffee, not 
  Colombia’s other famous product, before anyone asks.
  I once again want thank Malcolm Craig for all of his time 
  and the interview. We also patiently await the next books 
  for a| state, a game that has quickly become one of my 
  favorite RPGs, as well as the others briefly described (I 
  am espically looking forward to reading ‘Mob Justice’). If 
  you are yet to check this title out, please do so. You can 
  find my reviews of the core book here and Lost Finder’s 
  Guide to Mire End here.
  
  Page 19
  Xenoform Invasion: Invasion of the Templates
  Mahamba & Smith 
                                                                   By Jerel Hass
  CSX Case File #3: Mahamba
   “Look out!  It’s coming right for us!!!!” 
  The Mahamba is nature’s last line of defense from man’s 
  constant encroachment.  Abnormally aggressive and 
  destructive, a Mahamba is a gargantuan version of one 
  of nature’s first children. 
  Sample Mahamba
  Combat
  Improved Grab (Ex): If the Mahamba successfully hits 
  with its bite attack, it can attempt to start a grapple as a 
  free action without provoking an attack of opportunity. 
  Swallow Whole (Ex): If the Mahamba starts the turn with 
  a victim successfully grappled by its bite attack, it can 
  attempt a new grapple check to swallow its victim.  If 
  the check is successful, the victim takes 1d8+12 points 
  of bludgeon damage and 1d8 points of acid damage per 
  round from the Mahamba’s digestive juices.  A swallowed 
  creature can cut its way out with a light slashing or 
  piercing weapon by dealing 30 points of damage to the 
  Mahamba’s digestive tract (AC 16).  Once the creature 
  exits, muscular action closes the hole; another swallowed 
  victim must cut a new way out.
  A Gargantuan Mahamba gullet can hold 2 Huge, 4 Large, 
  16 Medium or Small, 64 Tiny, 256 Diminutive, or 1024 
  Fine or smaller victims. 
  Trample (Ex): Reflex half DC (34), damage 3d6+36 
  bashing points of damage. The save is Strength-based.
  Creating a Mahamba
  Mahamba is an acquired template that can be added onto 
  any animal, hereafter referred to as the base creature.
  A Mahamba uses all the base creature’s statistics and 
  special abilities except as noted here. 
  Size and Type: The base creature’s size increases to 
  Gargantuan. Make all necessary stat changes found on 
  Template: Mahamba
  Mahamba Crocodile
  Gargantuan Animal
  Hit Dice: 18D8+162 (234 hp)
  Initiative: +1
  Speed: 70 ft., Swim 80 ft.
  Armor Class: 20 (-4 size, +1 Dex, +13 natural) touch 7, 
  flat-footed 15
  Base Attack/Grapple: +13/+17
  Attack: Bite +27 melee (3d8+24) or tail slap +27 melee 
  (4d8+24) 
  Full Attack: Bite +27 melee (3d8+24) or tail slap +27 
  melee (4d8+24)
  Face/Reach: 20 ft./20 ft.
  Special Attacks: Improved Grab, Trample, Swallow 
  Whole
  Special Qualities: Hold breath, Low-light vision, DR 10/-
  Saves: Fort +30, Ref +12, Will +6
  Abilities: Str 43, Dex 12, Con 29, Int 1, Wis 12, Cha 2
  Skills: Hide +2, Listen +7, Spot +7, Swim +27
  Feats: Alertness, Skill Focus (Hide)
  Climate/Terrain: Warm marshes
  Organization: Solitary
  Challenge Rating: 8
  Alignment: Lawful Neutral
  Advancement: N/A
  the chart below; the type remains unchanged.
  Hit Dice: +15 Hit Dice (d8, average 60hp), +11 base 
  attack, 17 Skill points, +8 Fortitude, +8 Reflex, +4 Will)
  Speed: Change speed; Biped to 60 ft., Quadruped 70 ft., 
  Flier 150 ft., Swimmer 80 ft.
  AC: See chart below.
  HD
  DR
  15-17
  5/-
  18-25
  10/-
  26-35
  15/-
  36+
  20/-
  Attack: Creature retains all natural attacks, increased 
  based on new size.  If the base creature does not have a 
  natural attack, it gains a Bite attack (3d8) melee damage 
  and Slam attack (3d6) melee damage.
  Damage: Increase based on size change.
  Space Reach: 20ft/20ft
  Special Attacks: The Mahamba retains all special attacks 
  of the base creature, modified by ability increases.  All 
  Mahambas also gain Improved Grab, Trample, and 
  Swallow Whole. 
  Special Qualities: All Mahambas retain all special 
  qualities of the base creature.  All Mahambas gain 
  damage reduction based on the chart below.  Finally, 
  after their death all Mahambas revert to their natural 
  size within only a few minutes. 
  Abilities: Ability gains are based on the size of the base 
  creature.  See chart below.
  
  Page 20
  Encounter
  I have encountered a Mahamba, and no matter what 
  scientific jargon our scientist may apply to it, I know it for 
  what it truly is: a focus for nature’s fury.  There is nothing 
  sane behind the eyes of the Mahamba; I have stared 
  deep into its bottomless black pools of tormented chaos.  
  Some internal rage drives them: maybe it’s their enlarged 
  medulla oblongata, or some chemical imbalance caused 
  due to their tendency to grow in or near toxically polluted 
  environments.  Whatever excuse you come up with for 
  its behavior, a Mahamba does one thing well and that is 
  to destroy, and not just anything - just things created by 
  man.  A Mahamba is completely fearless, attacking without 
  cause or provocation and rarely fleeing unless severely 
  outnumbered.  Their behavior can be atypical of their 
  species, even polar opposite; a Mahamba rarely shows any 
  significant behavioral patterns of the species they appear 
  to derive from.  Instead, a Mahamba takes on a very 
  primal behavior of kill-eat-breed, where killing overrides 
  the desire to eat and the desire to procreate is merely 
  an afterthought.  The Mahamba is horrific step outside of 
  Darwinian evolution.
  Habitat/Society
  No sound scientific reason has ever been given for the 
  reason for the existence of the Mahamba.  The corpses 
  exhumed by the CXS scientist have shown no signs of any 
  known genetic manipulation or mutation.  Instead, the 
  corpses appear to be normally healthy, unusually large 
  versions of their species, albeit with incredibly powerful 
  muscular and skeletal structures.  What infuriates the 
  scientist to no end is that there is absolutely no pattern to 
  their occurrences.  A Mahamba may occur in any known 
  species of animal on any continent.  However, a few 
  commonalities have been found that many hope to use 
  to find a pattern.  First, Mahamba are inevitably drawn 
  to human populations, whether they are born nearby 
  or not.  Second, a Mahamba has an accelerated growth 
  rate, growing from infant to adult in a matter of only a 
  few months and from adult to death in about half that 
  time.  During their accelerated growth, the Mahamba must 
  consume an enormous amount of food. This usually results 
  in the decline of the Mahamba’s species’ primary prey. 
  Third, only one Mahamba has ever been known to exist 
  at a time; this, however, may be more wishful thinking 
  then actual fact.  Finally, all Mahamba are androgynous 
  and carry one pre-fertilized egg.  After reaching adulthood, 
  the Mahamba bears this offspring as appropriate for its 
  species.  This Mahamba offspring does not immediately 
  grow into a Mahamba, but instead goes through a standard 
  growth cycle.  However, if the parent dies during the child’s 
  growth, which is typical due to the Mahamba’s life cycle, 
  the child will begin to change into a Mahamba itself.  As of 
  yet no CXS scientist has put any scientific theories for this 
  occurrence, but some talk about pheromones triggering 
  hidden genes.      
  CSX Case File # 4: Smith
  Based on David Tormsen “Smith.”
  Every four hours someone is reported missing.  It could 
  your best friend, or maybe a beloved family member.  
  It might even be someone you wouldn’t have noticed 
  missing, like a homeless man or the guy in the IT 
  department you only see when your computer gives you 
  the blue screen of death.  The seeming disappearance 
  of people in such a small world as ours has become so 
  common that the police make you wait 24 hours before 
  filing a report.  In many cases the people just show 
  back up, maybe from an unannounced sabbatical, and 
  sometimes people just never come back.  However, in 
  some unusual cases the people return, but different.  And 
  strangest of all is when they return and call themselves 
  “Smith.”
  Creating a Smith
  Smith is an acquired template that can be added onto any 
  Humanoid, hereafter referred to as the base creature.  
  Resisting the Downloading process requires a Willpower 
  check (DC 15).
  Adventure Hook
  The adventurers are sent out into the Louisiana swamp to track a rumor of Final Church activity.  While air-boating 
  on the swamp, the heroes come across several other airboats, all of them battered and inoperable.  Investigation 
  of the boats reveals that the boats belonged to another group of investigators.  Along the shore of the swamp near 
  the boat graveyard, the heroes discover signs of the Final Church, and signs of something very large and very 
  destructive.
  Str
  Dex
  Con
  Nat. 
  Arm
  AC/At
  Fine
  +34
  +0
  +14
  +9
  -12
  Dimin.
  +34
  +0
  +14
  +9
  -8
  Tiny
  +32
  +0
  +14
  +9
  -7
  Small
  +28
  +0
  +14
  +9
  -6
  Med
  +24
  +0
  +12
  +9
  -5
  Large
  +16
  +0
  +8
  +7
  -4
  Huge
  +8
  +0
  +4
  +3
  -3
  Skill: Skill gains are based on the animal type.
  Challenge Rating: +6 to base creature’s Challenge Rating.
  Combat
  Improved Grab (Ex): If the Mahamba successfully hits with 
  its bite attack, it can attempt to start a grapple as a free 
  action without provoking an attack of opportunity.
  Swallow Whole (Ex): If the Mahamba starts the turn with 
  a victim successfully grappled by its bite attack, it can 
  attempt a new grapple check to swallow its victim.  If the 
  check is successful, the victim takes half bite damage and 
  1d8 points of acid damage per round from the Mahamba’s 
  digestive juices.  A swallowed creature can cut its way 
  out with a light slashing or piercing weapon by dealing 30 
  points of damage to the Mahamba’s digestive tract (AC 10 
  + 1⁄2 natural armor).  Once the creature exits, muscular 
  action closes the hole; another swallowed victim must cut 
  a new way out.
  A Gargantuan Mahamba gullet can hold 2 Huge, 4 Large, 
  16 Medium or Small, 64 Tiny, 256 Diminutive, or 1024 Fine 
  or smaller victims. 
  Trample (Ex): Reflex half DC 10 + 1⁄2 HD + strength 
  modifier, damage Slam attack + Strength and a half. The 
  Save is Strength-based.
  Description
  A Mahamba can be born of any species of animal or 
  beast.  At the height of their growth they have reached 
  the gargantuan level of nearly 20 ft length and height.  
  The Mahamba still has all the normal markings and 
  features of its original species, but expanded.  One major 
  exception that is common in all Mahambaa is into its 
  eyes.  Staring in the eyes of a Mahamba is like staring 
  into the eye of a hurricane or looking directly into a 
  lightning bolt.  Even normally docile animals project this 
  sense of inner rage and power.   
   
  
  A Smith uses all the base creature’s statistics and special 
  abilities except as noted here. 
  Size and Type: No Change
  HD: No Change
  AC: Typically, a Smith is outfitted with a Kevlar vest.
  Base Attack/Grapple: All Smiths are programmed for 
  combat and therefore gain a +2 bonus to their base attack 
  bonus.
  Attack: All Smiths are programmed with the use of all 
  martial weapons, firearms, and a vast range of martial art 
  styles.
  Special Qualities: Possessed: Due to the struggle between 
  the Smith program and the original personality, the Smith 
  save (DC 15).  If successful, the Smith program is deleted; 
  if failed, the Smith still controls the host, but at a -4 to 
  all rolls due to an incomplete transfer.  The Smith must 
  attempt these transfers once every two days; for every day 
  past the second, the host personality can attempt to regain 
  control.  The host can attempt a Willpower save (DC 20, 
  -2 for every day missed past the second).  If successful, 
  the Smith program is deleted and the 
  host regains control; if failed, the host 
  goes dormant for two days.
  Saves: The Smith program adds a 
  +2 to the host body’s Fortitude and 
  Reflex saves.
  Abilities: The Smith program allows 
  for better use of the body, giving 
  a +2 to Strength, Dexterity, and 
  Constitution.  However, due to the 
  limited abilities of the AI, it forces 
  Intelligence to 12, Wisdom to 10, and 
  Charisma to 7.
  Skills: The Smith program comes 
  loaded with the following skills that 
  add to the host’s skills: Move Silently 
  7, Drive 10, and Computer Use 10.
  Feats: Due to the Smith’s combat 
  training, the host gains Armor 
  Proficiency (Light, Medium, Heavy), 
  Martial Weapon Proficiency, Personal 
  Firearms Proficiency, and Combat 
  Martial Arts.
  Level Adjustment: +2
  Description
  For the most part, Smiths appear to 
  be exactly like their host, even drawing on the mannerisms 
  that the host contains in its memories.  This makes it 
  incredibly hard for CXS agents to spot and distinguish 
  Smiths.  However, the close study of Smiths and their 
  AI has given the CXS a few key points to look for.  Most 
  Smiths develop a near obsessive-compulsive cleanliness, 
  especially when it comes to their appearance.  Smiths 
  also have a tendency to gravitate toward dark colored 
  sunglasses.  These dark tinted glasses help to disguise 
  the host’s control over the Smith’s ocular expressions.  A 
  Smith without its glasses may show fear, anger, or even 
  sadness even though his mannerisms and voice suggest 
  nothing.  Last but not least is that the Smith is relatively 
  simple and only in its basic stages of growth.  Due to the 
  AI, a Smith may show a drop in Intelligence, common 
  sense, or personality from that of the host.
  Encounter
  Any CXS agents dealing with a known Smith threat are to 
  treat all unidentified encounters as possible Smiths.  Even 
  identified encounters are to be treated with suspicion. 
  Smiths are normally outfitted with light firearms and 
  a Kevlar vest by the organization in control of the AI.  
  Typically, a Smith is used for espionage purposes and will 
  not be outright hostile.  A Smith encountered in combat 
  will first attempt to subdue its victim, dragging the body 
  back to be loaded with the Smith AI.  If the Smith is unable 
  to subdue its victim, it will attempt to retreat.  If retreat is 
  impossible, a Smith will not allow itself to be taken alive if 
  it has control over the matter.   
  Habitat/Society
  Many organizations have gained access to the Smith 
  AI program and reprogrammed its loyalties to their 
  own goals and beliefs.  Using the Smith AI, these 
  organizations have placed key pawns in positions of 
  power all over the United States, Canada and Europe.  
  What is unknown to these organizations is that they are 
  not in complete control of the Smith AI.  A sentient Smith 
  AI exists in the vastness of cyberspace.  This “True Smith” 
  was the first developed in an attempt to create a perfect 
  agent program that could save years of time and millions 
  of dollars in training. After gaining sentience, the True 
  Smith created simplified versions of itself and left them to 
  be discovered by others.  Using subtle manipulations of 
  the Smiths, the True Smith has completely assimilated or 
  deleted those responsible for its creation.  Today the True 
  Smith watches and learns through its other Smiths during 
  their downloading process.  The True Smith continues to 
  manipulate the Smiths, but only to test out what it learns.
  Adventure Hook
  The heroes find themselves being followed by a van of men in dark suits, resembling MIBs, in the middle of nowhere.  
  Before they can do anything, the driver of the van suddenly suffers a seizure and crashes.  Only one of the men 
  survives.  If interrogated, he will only give his name – Smith – and  demand to be released.  As time goes by, his 
  attempts to escape become increasingly desperate.  At one point, the man suffers a seizure himself and croaks 
  “Help me...my name is Lucas Walker...help...” before returning to a normal state.  Investigation reveals that Lucas 
  Walker was a conspiracy theorist who disappeared two months ago.  Can the heroes help Lucas re-emerge, and what 
  information can he give them?  Or will Smith escape and come back with more of his kind?
  Sample Smith
  Smith Conspiracist
  Medium Human, Smart Hero 4, Investigator 1
  Hit Dice: 4d6+1d6
  Initiative: +2
  Speed: 30 ft.
  Armor Class: 17 (+2 Dex, +4 Concealable Vest, +1 Defense bonus) touch 
  12, flat-footed 15
  Base Attack/Grapple: +5/+5
  Attack: Unarmed attack +5 melee (1d4), Colt 45 +7 ranged (2d6), or 
  hatchet +5 melee (1d6)
  Full Attack: Unarmed attack +5 melee (1d4), Colt 45 +7 ranged (2d6), or 
  hatchet +5 melee (1d6)
  Face/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
  Special Qualities: Profile, Savant (Investigate), Exploit Weakness, 
  Possessed
  Saves: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +3
  Abilities: Str 10, Dex 14, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 7 
  Skills: Move Silently 7, Drive 10, Computer Use 10, Investigate 15, Listen 
  10, Sense Motive 8, Spot 10
  Feats: Armor Proficiency (Light, Medium, Heavy), Martial Weapon 
  Proficiency, Personal Firearms Proficiency, Combat Martial Arts, Alertness, 
  Attentive
  Challenge Rating: 7
  must be able to connect to a mainframe in order to upload 
  and replenish its control over the host.  The Smith needs 
  two pieces of equipment in order to complete this task.  
  The first is at least a T-1 connection to the internet: 
  anything slower and the Smith risks corruption of its data 
  due to the uploading time and static in the line.  Second, 
  the Smith uses a specialized retina scanning device to 
  allow for the transfer. This equipment looks very similar to 
  a web cam.  The transfer takes 12 hours to complete, and 
  while transferring the Smith is unable to react to external 
  stimuli.  If the transfer is interrupted, the host personality 
  may attempt to overthrow the Smith by making a Willpower 
  
  Page 22
  The 7-Eleven across the street from my apartment has 
  got to be the safest convenience store on Long Island. 
  Every night during the summer, and every Saturday 
  regardless of season, it crawls with teenagers. They're 
  not dangerous—just loud and annoying.  But that's 
  because the Paki that owns the place is always telling 
  them that a superhero lives down the block.
  What's sad is that it's true. What's worse is that he 
  means me.
  Four months and I was getting pretty good at this hero 
  thing. I had made and beat up my first arch-nemesis, 
  stopped two muggings, captured a wanted sex offender, 
  broken up a small gang fight, and prevented a murder—
  although the last one might not count, as I only found the 
  guy in the trunk of the car after I beat up the killer-to-be 
  for nearly running me over while I was "on patrol."
  Still, I was doing alright.  But someone should have told 
  that to the girl who came into the 7-Eleven that day, 
  ninja-kicked the cashier in the head, and ran off with all 
  the money in the register.  Especially since I was next in 
  line (with a case of beer in each hand).
  Normally I stop those kinds of things.  Three things 
  worked against me in this case, though: 1) the beer; 2) 
  her superhuman speed; 3) she was hot.
  The girl was out the door and half-way down Deer Park 
  Avenue by the time the beers crashed and spilled all over 
  the already-sticky floor.  I tried to nonchalantly bolt out to 
  my motorbike and chase after.  Nonchalant bolting seems 
  more difficult in front of two dozen gawking teens.  
  As soon as I got on my bike, I saw her duck down 
  Cambridge Street.  Cambridge leads into a maze of short, 
  oddly-angled side roads that are easy to get lost down if 
  you've never been there before.  A smart person would 
  have made a quick left on Wellington and a right down 
  Claremont. Claremont has a lot of side streets; it would 
  have been easy enough for her to pick one, park her car, 
  and wait in hiding until I passed her by.
  But she wasn't from around here. She went straight down 
  Cambridge; I got on the street in time to see her hang 
  a right on the boulevard.  By the time I swung around, 
  she had slowed to a normal jogging pace and had fished 
  out the keys to a silver, '99 Dodge Neon.  It seemed odd 
  at first that a person who could run at fifty miles an hour 
  would even bother with a car, aside from the fact that 
  running that fast was extraordinarily conspicuous.
  A keen memory is not among the numerous talents I 
  possess as a superhero.  I had completely forgotten 
  to put on the mask that I carry around with me.  Our 
  relationship therefore began with the line, "So how do 
  you see at this time of night with sunglasses on?" in 
  reference to her chosen method of disguise.
  She responded with a leaping kick to the chest.  I blocked 
  . . . with my chest.  The motorbike disappeared from 
  beneath me.  My back gave the concrete a hefty high-
  five.
  She zipped back toward her car.  I charged up a short 
  beam and hurled it at her.  I missed--deliberately--and 
  created a brand-new pothole in front of her.  She tripped 
  in it.  Her 30mph momentum sent her flying past her 
  car by about fifteen feet.  Her glasses bounced from her 
  face, vanishing into the darkness of someone's nighttime 
  lawn.  I jumped up and began charging up another bolt of 
  energy, just in case.
  She was up and already at her car door again.  My little 
  neat-o superpower has a sort of acidic effect.  I didn't 
  want to melt her hand off, so I let the energy fizzle out 
  and opted to grab her around the waist and neck.  My 
  Sifu had only switched me out of the Tai Chi class and 
  started me on Kung-Fu about two months prior, so I 
  wasn't too good at the holds.  The girl slipped out of my 
  grip and slammed her knee into my gut.  Thankfully, the 
  kick wasn't super-fast, so I only reeled about two feet 
  back.
  The next ten kicks, on the other hand, were pretty fast.  I 
  blocked maybe two.  The rest met my ribs with full force.  
  I fell sideways, landing on my elbow.
  For half a second she stood over me.  In the dim street 
  light, I saw her face: round, with high cheeks and dark, 
  elliptical eyes.  She looked at least part-Asian.
  Her gaze shifted quick from me to my bike and then back 
  to me.  I didn't have anything distinctive on me, but she 
  must have recognized the ninja bike.  She said, "You're 
  that Cobalt idiot" before shin-kicking me out cold.
  ***
  My roommate, Dane, found me some time later.  He cut 
  right to the chase: "You forgot the beer, Chad."
  "Had another blast from the past," I quipped.
  The whole superpower thing resulted from a giant 
  government experiment.  I was one of fifty kids that got 
  genetically "tweaked." At age ten, they cleaned up our 
  memories and set us loose on the world.  Eventually, 
  our powers started popping up.  I'm one of only two that 
  somehow remembers some of what happened at a place 
  called the Sanders Institute.
  Thing was, I didn't remember a girl that looked like her.  
  And believe me, I would have remembered a girl like her.
  In the morning, I called in sick to work and went on 
  patrol. Normally I don't go on patrol during the day, but 
  this girl had me perplexed.  If my childhood memories 
  were just normal memories, I wouldn't have been so 
  bothered by the fact that I didn't remember her.  Maybe 
  she had been fatter or had dyed her hair or got a nose 
  job or some other very explainable phenomenon that 
  would keep me from recognizing her.  But my memories 
  of the Sanders Institute were painfully vivid, often playing 
  Zen and the art 
  of fighting crime
  by Christian R. Bonawandt
  
  Page 23
  out like horrifying family vacation videos.  I could pull 
  up the names and faces of forty-nine kids with textbook 
  clarity.  She didn't fit a single one.
  I found Milton Tugger at the Wyandanch train station, 
  sleeping in the backseat of a random Toyota.  When I 
  tapped the window, Milton jolted, mussing the thick layers 
  of blankets he was somewhat hiding under.  His jaw, lip, 
  and neck were ragged from a few days of not shaving.  
  His eyes were blackened from a few days of not sleeping.
  Our gazes locked.  He propped himself on his elbows, 
  bent his knees as though ready to bolt.  I held up one 
  hand and charged it.  The ominous yellow glow said 
  more than any words could, especially to Milton.  Milton 
  raised his hands in submission.  He walked out of the car 
  without even opening the door (that was his power).  The 
  limp in his left leg was faded, but still apparent.  Wrinkled 
  jeans covered the scar he had gotten on the first—and 
  only—day that Cobalt and The Untouchable had squared 
  off, in the Waldbaums parking lot.
  "Who's that?" Milton asked, reading my surface thoughts.  
  The lucky bastard had developed two wholly unrelated 
  powers.  Most of the other super beings that we knew 
  of only got one, including myself.  His mental abilities 
  allowed him to naturally break down the artificial amnesia 
  that we had been given.  Between the two of us, I figured 
  we could piece something together about the girl.
  "She's the Chinese Speedy Gonzalez," I said.  "And I 
  don't remember her either."
  Milton shrugged.  He took a couple glances to the left and 
  right.  There wasn't anyone around.  At 10:30 a.m., most 
  of the commuters are long gone.  As much as two hours 
  can pass between trains until around 4-ish.  Anyone 
  hanging around was likely unemployed and/or a thug, 
  and most of the latter don't come out until well after 
  noon.
  His hand moved idly to his tasseled, un-groomed hair. "Is 
  that what you came all this way for?" he asked.
  "You don't think it's weird that neither of us knows her?" 
  I responded.
  Milton shook his head.  "We don't know The Truth, either.  
  You never found that odd.  Then again, The Truth doesn't 
  have a rack like that." 
  The "modifications" of different Sanders Institute kids 
  manifested as a variety of abilities.  My power was an 
  acid-like beam of energy.  It hit harder and became 
  more caustic as I charged it up.  It was a very dangerous 
  power, and would have been worse in the hands of 
  someone who wished harm on other people.  Milton, on 
  the other hand, was no real danger.  The worst thing that 
  he could do was to turn intangible as you tried to grab 
  him.  You might trip and skin your knee.
  The international phenomenon who billed himself as 
  "The Truth" also had powers.  He was like a reckless 
  Superman, magically appearing where there was danger, 
  resisting insane amounts of physical assaults (including 
  gunfire), doing significantly more damage than seemed 
  necessary, and finally, literally, teleporting into oblivion.  
  Not remembering The Truth didn't bother me as much 
  because he never stopped by Long Island.  In photos, he 
  looked to be at least thirty—a half-dozen years older than 
  those of us from the Sanders Institute.
  "I was thinking," Milton said, rubbing some crust from his 
  bloodshot eyes, "we're probably not the only 'graduates' 
  of Sanders.  You're girl looks like she might be a few 
  years younger than us."
  "There was at least three attempts at this, then," I 
  mused.
  "Probably more." Milton’s words got somewhat lost in a 
  yawn.
  An uncomfortable silence followed.  No one really got 
  close to each other at the Sanders Institute; we were 
  separated more often than not.  But I still knew Milton, 
  and our mutually traumatic history created an awkward 
  bond that made it hard to hate him.  Technically, this 
  guy was my worst enemy.  We had only fought once, 
  and it was my first real super-hero-like effort.  It worked 
  though—he ended up arrested and, despite escaping 
  later, hadn't committed a crime since.
  For a second I felt Milton shuffling around in my head.  It 
  was like a feather was being rubbed over my brain.  It 
  tickled in an invasive, almost disgusting kind of way.  It 
  made me want to deck him.
  "Did you try staking out C.W. Post?"
  I squinted at him.
  "There was a Post sticker on her bumper."  Milton paused, 
  then began to grin.  "You didn't notice?"
  "Your telepathy is getting better," I said.  "Picking out 
  things I saw and didn't even really notice."
  His head bobbed in mild, silent laughter.  "Maybe you're 
  just a lame detective."
  I waited a second before heading back to my bike.  "Nice 
  to see you helping out," I said, as I started her up.  
  "Maybe one day you'll decide to fight crime, instead of 
  committing it."
  Milton gave me a look like he ate something sour.  On 
  second thought, I wished I hadn't said that last part.
  "I really ain't a bad guy, Chad. You know that," Milton 
  said.
  As much as I understood what he meant, a youth spent 
  on 80's good guy/bad guy cartoons compelled me to 
  "She's the Chinese Speedy Gonzalez," I said.  "And I 
  don't remember her either."
  {                       }
  
  Page 24
  defend my position.  "You did rob like a half-dozen 
  banks."
  His red, sleepless eyes got a little bit wider.  There was 
  some anger in his voice, and a burden of fatigue.  "No 
  one got hurt.  I just walked in and walked out.  It wasn't 
  a lot of money, and those banks were all insured."
  I held out my palms in submission.  Milton kept going.
  "Look at me, Chad. Haven't I paid enough for my piddly 
  little crime against humanity?"
  Public recognition as a wanted criminal, living in hiding, 
  unbathed, unkempt, too paranod to sleep—Milton had 
  overpaid his debt to society.  I guess that I probably 
  should have at least nodded before I rode off.
  ***
  The C.W. Post campus of Long Island University is 
  stuffed in the middle of one of the wealthier areas of 
  LI's Gold Coast.  It's probably the worst place in New 
  York for a college, as there aren't any affordable bars or 
  enterprising businesses in a twenty-mile radius that might 
  actually welcome either educated young adults or rowdy 
  kids looking for a good time.  As a result, most of the 
  people who went to school there were idiots from out of 
  state who didn't know any better (the lush, green campus 
  looks gorgeous in brochures) and lazy kids from upper-
  middle class families who know they can practically sleep 
  their way to a Bachelor's Degree.
  Cruising around the campus, my mask would have been 
  beyond conspicuous, so I opted for dark sunglasses 
  and a hoody.  It may have been mid-March, but at a 
  few minutes past 11 a.m. the sun was streaming down 
  through the clouds in fiercely-bright, yet surprisingly 
  cool, rays.  The large sloping hill that was the visual 
  centerpiece of almost any reference to the school was 
  chopped up for aerating. Endless, perfectly parallel rows 
  of holes slaughtered the otherwise flawless sea of grass 
  green that was the campus's signature.  On top of the hill 
  sat the early the 1900s home of Margaret Post, daughter 
  of the cereal magnate, looking weary and weathered.
  My bike parked behind the commons, I wandered around 
  the Humanities building and what looked like one of the 
  Sciences buildings, peering into classrooms.  I strolled 
  casually around, as though I wasn't really interested in 
  what was inside the rooms.  A dusty, somewhat moldy 
  backpack from my few years of community college served 
  as my only disguise.  Security guards eyed me with far 
  less suspicion than they did the scattered groups of black 
  kids who loitered around the entrance to the Humanities 
  hall—even though the kids probably went to this school.
  At twenty past noon, the doors began to leak open, and a 
  flood of guys and chicks three to six years younger than 
  me clustered the halls.  The deluge of bodies included a 
  smattering of people ranging from my age to much older.  
  It was a sensory overload.  Everywhere I looked I felt like 
  she was probably just out of my sight.  She could have 
  been sandwiched between the nuggets of under-dressed, 
  over cosmetic-ed girls gravitating toward the commons.  
  Or on the other side of a bulky football player or wrestler-
  type.  Maybe she had slipped out a side door and headed 
  down one of the paths toward another building or a 
  parking lot just out of sight.  My neck was starting to 
  ache, as I forced my head in every direction at once.  
  Everyone began to look the same.
  Some kind of ESP made glance back at the entrance to 
  the Humanities building one more time.  I did a double 
  take.  It was definitely her.  She wore jeans and a baby 
  tee—nothing fancy—with a dark blue denim jacket.  A 
  wide side-satchel hung off her shoulder like an oversized 
  purse.  In clear daylight, her face seemed more cute than 
  sensual and mysterious.  Dark eyes and dark hair, with 
  subtle, natural highlights.  No makeup that I could see.  
  I was second-guessing the whole Chinese thing.  Maybe 
  she was Asian—a second-generation mixed race, perhaps.
  The girl moved numbly down one of two hooked stairways 
  that curved like tusks from the face of the building.  She 
  appeared lost in her thoughts.  It made it easy for me 
  to tail her to the student commons.  In the slow-moving 
  cacophony of students I went utterly unnoticed.  She 
  made her way smoothly, almost mechanically, to the 
  second floor.  A decent-sized alcove balcony overlooked 
  a hallway jammed with students eager to snag a greasy 
  lunch between classes.  Three half-sized, uneven pool 
  tables and a handful of uncomfortable-looking couches of 
  various sizes occupied the alcove.  My subject dropped 
  herself into an open couch cushion, next to a short, well-
  dressed black girl.  Half a dozen students, including the 
  girl next to her, greeted her by name, but I only managed 
  to pick it up when it was uttered by a large, leather-clad, 
  red-haired headbanger-type in faded black jeans and an 
  Ozzy Osbourne shirt that looked much too weathered to 
  keep holding together for long.  His voice was resonant 
  and projecting in a way that implied a tremendous penis.  
  Aside from intimidating me, it made her smile instantly.
  I moved past her and yanked a paperback William Gibson 
  novel from my backpack, throwing myself into a single-
  seater.
  By ten after one the place was nearly deserted.  I picked 
  up several pieces of information.  The girl’s name was 
  Lara.  She was majoring in Psychology, and her father 
  had heart problems.  She didn't get along with her 
  mother, and, thankfully, the redhead was a close friend, 
  but definitely not her boyfriend.  When he got up to use 
  the bathroom, I made my move.  
  Strangely, my stomach was knotted.  In spite of all the 
  danger that I had put myself in night after night as a 
  superhero, I had never felt this nervous.  It didn't matter 
  to me if I got hurt.  Pain and death were just not the kind 
  of things that frightened me.  But she made me nervous.  
  The weakening kind of nervous.  The kind thatyou got in 
  high school before you asked someone out.
  I sat across from her, where the redhead had been 
  (facing the restroom).  Through my sunglasses, I stared 
  directly at her.  
  She glanced up from a spiral notebook, the pages covered 
  in neat and organized blue ink.  "Can I help you?"
  I snatched her wrist with my left hand and hopped into 
  the empty seat next to her.  My right hand charged for a 
  quick second--just long enough for her, and no one else, 
  to recognize my "ID."
  Her eyes rolled in their sockets.  "You wanna’ do this 
  now?"
  Actually, I had no idea what I wanted to do right now.
  She lowered her voice.  "You take this superhero thing a 
  little too seriously." 
  "That guy whose skull you cracked?  He's a friend of 
  mine."
  "The Indian at the 7-Eleven? Do you even know his 
  
  Page 25
  name?"
  I did!  I just couldn't remember it at the moment.  Switch 
  gears.  "How much do you make every night doing this?"
  "More than you do!"  She paused; a little bit of the 
  tension suddenly slipped away  "But if you really wanna’ 
  know, not even $200."
  I slid down into the gap.  "Is it worth going to jail over?"
  She put the notebook down, stuffing a pen in the spiral 
  binding.  She crossed her legs and turned her body a 
  quarter of the way toward me.
  "First, let go of my wrist.  I'm not running anywhere.  It's 
  not like you're going to get the police to come arrest me 
  right now."  I complied, and even went so far as to take 
  off my shades.  "Second, who the hell made you Long 
  Island's morality patrol?"
  The point struck my philosophical Achilles' Heel.  I 
  arguably had no good reason for telling her what to do.  
  But it was the right thing to do.  And doing nothing would 
  have been worse than committing the crimes themselves, 
  especially when I had the power to stop them.
  "I didn't come here to threaten you," I said, which was 
  a lie; I had just now decided against it.  "Think about 
  how close you came to getting caught and taken down.  
  Now imagine I had been waiting for you, instead of being 
  caught completely by surprise."
  A deep and resounding "Ahh" made me jump half off the 
  couch.  The redhead had emerged from the restroom, and 
  was relishing the joy of emptiness.  He sat on the arm of 
  the couch opposite us and stretched a bit.  "When do you 
  want to get together and work on the Poli-Sci project?" he 
  asked Lara.
  "Saturday's my only free day."  Her eyes left me for only 
  the slightest second.  
  He nodded, eyes toward the ceiling in thought.  "I don't 
  think I'm working this Saturday.  Call me.  Lynn gets out 
  at four, so we can do the project, pick her up, and then 
  hang out."  Abruptly, the guy seemed to notice me.  "Oh, 
  hey, I'm Josh," he said, as he extended his hand.  
  "Chad." 
  Nobody said anything for a second.  Josh's mouth curled 
  in thought and he tossed a knowing glance to both of 
  us.  "Think I'll head out," he said.  To me, "Nice to meet 
  ya, Chad," and to Lara, "I'll see you tomorrow. Say 'hi' to 
  your dad for me."
  She said she would.  We both waited for him to disappear 
  down the stairs.  "Not the kind of person I pictured you'd 
  be friends with," I said.
  "You don't get it!" she hissed, shaking her head in violent 
  frustration, "And I don't have time to explain it to you."
  The notebook landed sloppily in the side-satchel, its cover 
  catching on the opening and bending as she lifted the 
  bag's strap onto her shoulder.  At the same time, she 
  stood and marched toward the door.  At any moment she 
  could have just super-speed-run from me.  As hurried as 
  she appeared, Lara made no attempt to use her power.  
  She was perfectly confident that I wasn't going to do 
  anything to her.  And, realistically, what could I have 
  done?
  I got up and followed her.  
  "My father is very sick," she said, not the least bit 
  surprised that I had followed her.  "He needs a quadruple 
  bypass, which he won't do because his kidneys will fail, 
  and he refuses to be on dialysis.  The doctor won't allow 
  him to go to work, so he's on disabled retirement at 55 
  years old.  His pension is a pittance."
  Outside, March's cool air sent a chill up my back.  The 
  sun stabbed my eyes, and the leftover briskness of winter 
  stung my nose.  The shades came out of the hoody 
  pocket and slipped onto my face almost automatically.
  "What does any of that have to do with robbing 7-
  Elevens?" I asked, genuinely interested in the answer.
  Again the frustrated head shake.  "I can't afford this 
  degree."
  "It's called student loans." I had no intention of 
  mentioning that I was a college dropout.
  She stopped suddenly and turned on her heels to face 
  me.  She got right up in my face, our noses almost 
  touching.  I could smell her perfume and a hint of 
  coffee.  My body went electric and for a second I honestly 
  believed she was going to kiss me.
  "Why should I?" she snapped.  "There are people popping 
  up all over the U.S. with powers like yours and mine.  
  We got some nuts genuinely interested in taking over 
  the world.  Some are causing trouble just because they 
  can.  And the only 'super-villain' you've ever duked it out 
  with escaped from prison more than two months ago and 
  has yet to be heard from.  Oh, but you have to concern 
  yourself with one poor woman who's taking a shortcut.  
  For all the crap life has thrown at me and my father, I 
  deserved a little easy money."
  "Be honest with yourself," I said. "It's only a matter of 
  time before someone as unique looking as you gets IDed.  
  The cops don't have to be able to catch you to wreck your 
  life.  Take The Untouchable, who you just mentioned.  
  I spoke to him this morning.  He looks more like a 
  homeless beggar than a super-villain.  That's because 
  that's exactly what he is.  He can't go anywhere without 
  being recognized.  He'll never hold down a real job, get 
  an apartment or live like a normal person ever again.  
  Sure, he can just walk out of any prison any time he 
  wants.  Big deal!  Where's he ever gonna go?  You don't 
  wanna be like him.  You're way too pretty and your dad is 
  way too sick for you to go down that route."
  I had barely finished the last sentence before she 
  stormed away from me.  She jerked out the remote for 
  her car and clicked it.  The silver Neon flashed its lights 
  and beeped in response.  She opened the door and 
  heaved her side-satchel into the passenger seat.
  My hand on the door to keep her from closing it, I asked, 
  "What nationality are you?"
  She paused, one arm on the steering wheel.  "Russian," 
  she said.  "But you probably thought I was Asian."  Her 
  arm came off the wheel and settled with the other one 
  on her lap.  "What the hell kind of superhero are you?  
  Shouldn't you just try and kick my ass?  What's with all 
  the lecturing?"
  "You're too pretty for that."
  Inwardly, I gagged, disgusted at my own cheesiness.
  Those dark eyes drifted in my direction, eyebrows pulled 
  
  Page 26
  high above them.  I shrugged and laughed, and she 
  realized that I was laughing at myself.  Her high cheeks lit 
  up as she cracked a smile.
  "I have trouble justifying what I do," I admitted.  "But I'd 
  have a harder time justifying not doing it."
  She nodded.  "So you save the world by pushing your 
  moral beliefs on other people."  The words were scathing, 
  but the tone was not.
  "In this case, I’m not so much saving the world as saving 
  you from yourself."
  There was another quick silence, where we both just 
  gazed oddly at each other.  "I'm not giving you my 
  number," she said, and for a second she seemed to be 
  kidding.  
  "No prob," I said, "I know where to find you."
  I ducked down and kissed her cheek before strutting off 
  toward my bike.  She tried to pull away from me, but I 
  had super speed.
  
  Page 27
  Reviews, Reviews
      .....reviews!
  read on...
  Scoring definitions for d20 products:
  18 = Superior. Best of the best.
  16 = Very Good. Part of a Baker’s Dozen.
  14 = Good. Most gamers would like this.
  12 = Fair. Some gamers would like this.
  10 = Average. Most gamers would be indifferent.
  8 = Subpar. Flawed, but not without promise.
  6 = Bad. Most gamers would dislike this.
  4 = Very Bad. Among the Dirty Dozen.
  2 = Inferior. Worst of the worst.
  Scoring Definitions for non-d20 products:
  12 = Superior. Best of the best.
  11 = Excellent. Just a hair from perfect.
  10 = Very Good. Part of a Baker’s Dozen.
  9 = Good. Most gamers would like this.
  8 = Fair. Some gamers would like this.
  7 = Average. Most gamers would be indifferent.
  6 = Sub-par. Flawed, but not without promise.
  5 = Poor. Some gamers would dislike this.
  4 = Bad. Most gamers would dislike this.
  3 = Very Bad. Among the dirty dozen.
  2 = Inferior. Worst of the worst.
  How we rate
  This month we take a look at...
  d20
  The Book of Iron Might
  Who needs eldritch might? Barbarians, fighters, rangers, paladins, and other warriors meet their foes head on, 
  relying on nothing but their cool nerves and skill at arms. They would say a good sword arm is worth a thousand 
  spells.
  d20 Modern
  Blood and Brains
  Blood and Brains takes the form of a guidebook written by the National Center for Reanimation Prevention and 
  Control (NCRPC) for zombie hunters and details character options, appropriate equipment, zombie FX, and the 
  different types of zombies. The book is meant to cover all types of potential zombie infestations from a small, 
  localized problem (such as dancing zombies, as in the video for “Thriller,” perhaps?) to a zombie apocalypse 
  (Dawn of the Dead and the such). 
  Non-d20
  White Wolf: World of Darkness – Antagonists
  The name of the book clearly states what is contained within. Have you seen it all before? I think not. Antagonists 
  offers a great deal of detail on a number of grand enemies for your coterie.
  Key 20 Publishing – Wyrd is Bond
  Magic hits the streets via gangs. This may sound like a game that is not for you. I thought that, initially. I have 
  been turned completely, however. Hopefully the following review can do the same for you if you feel as I once 
  did.
  
  Page 28
  The Book of Iron Might
  About: 64 pages, perfect-bound softcover, $14.
  Publisher: Malhavoc Press (2004)
  Reviewed by: Nick Mulherin
  Review date: 2/14/2005
  Reviewer’s Bias: I received a review copy of this product.
  From the Back Cover
  Who needs eldritch might? Barbarians, fighters, rangers, 
  paladins, and other warriors meet their foes head on, 
  relying on nothing but their cool nerves and skill at arms. 
  They would say a good sword arm is worth a thousand 
  spells.
  Any party’s strength rests on a foundation of cold steel, 
  mighty thews, and strong hearts. The Book of Iron Might 
  gives you a whole new way to look at combat, showing 
  you how to create combat maneuvers for called shots, 
  daredevil stunts, and other thrilling actions on the fly. 
  This book also includes:
  • Three new types of feats for combat-oriented characters
  • New uses for skills that increase your options in a fight
  • The ironborn, an exciting new character race
  • An innovative new stunt system
  The book of Iron Might covers new ground in the d20 
  System rules — no other book provides this look at 
  combat. If you liked the Books of Eldritch Might, don’t 
  miss this essential companion volume.
  Introduction
  Mike Mearls’s Book of Iron Might details two new 
  subsystems (one for maneuvers and one for stunts) and 
  a slew of other new options (feats and a new player race) 
  for the d20 System. Like Malhavoc’s first two Books of 
  Eldritch Might and the Book of Hallowed Might, the main 
  focus is on providing players and DMs with new options 
  for their game as opposed to plot hooks or adventure 
  fodder.
  Presentation
  Like other Malhavoc Press products, The Book of Iron 
  Might has a clean layout. The font is clear and readable, 
  and intrusive bells and whistles, such as busy page 
  borders or detailed background art, are absent here. I 
  found no typographical or style errors in the book; both 
  the writing and editing are superb.
  Kieran Yanner’s cover art depicts a giant ironborn warrior 
  with a sword and shield standing behind a human female 
  warrior wielding a mace. The art is excellent (Yanner 
  has long been one of my favorite artists working in d20 
  gaming), but the colors used make the picture seem 
  dark — the cover’s a hodgepodge of grays, browns, and 
  blacks, which dominate it so much that the white cloak 
  the woman wears is almost too eye-catching. Each time 
  I look at it, my eyes return to her cloak — I didn’t even 
  notice the ironborn behind her until I sat down to look at 
  the cover for this review.
  The interior art by Kev Crossley and Scott Purdy is 
  all black and white and has a dirty, sweaty feel to it. 
  Although the art is good, it doesn’t feel pretty (save for 
  the pictures of the ironborn in chapter two, which have a 
  cleaner look). The characters depicted kick up dirt, yell, 
  scream, and bleed. For a book focused on melee combat, 
  this worked really well. Pictures I particularly liked 
  included the warrior using a sling on page 19 (I don’t 
  think I’ve ever seen a picture of a sling-wielding fighter in 
  any role-playing book), the ironborn paladin and rogue on 
  pages 25 and 32 (there’s a real palpable sadness in the 
  paladin and the rogue looks sneaky, even for a construct), 
  and the fighter diving onto a troll on page 59 (great 
  action shot with an implicit story, as opposed to the posed 
  adventurers in so many products).
  Organizationally, the book presents things in an 
  interesting manner — maneuvers and stunts, which are 
  similar thematically, are presented in chapters 1 and 4, 
  while the new race and feats are in chapters 2 and 3. I 
  would have put the maneuvers and stunts nearer to each 
  other, as they’re similar thematically, but this doesn’t 
  matter too much in the long run.
  Maneuvers and Stunts
  Most of the book focuses on these two subsystems, 
  maneuvers and stunts, as ways to add some flair and 
  style to melee encounters in game. Maneuvers detail 
  ways for characters to somehow gain an advantage over 
  their opponents (such as tripping them or throwing sand 
  in their eyes) or perform tricky attacks (called shots, for 
  instance), while stunts deal with using the environment 
  to a character’s advantage (running along a balcony 
  or climbing up a giant’s back). As a set of rules, these 
  systems piggyback on the existing combat rules — almost 
  any way you slice it, you’re adding a level of complexity 
  to the rules. Groups that find d20 combat to be too 
  detailed and involved already are probably going to be 
  put off by these systems. That said, the complexity exists 
  mostly in their application — they don’t add new stats 
  or anything like that to the game; they essentially use 
  existing rules and tropes in new ways.
  Maneuvers consist of four parts: the effect, its drawbacks, 
  its effects in game terms, and its visual description. The 
  effect would be what the maneuver is designed to do, 
  such as a blinding attack. These effects have a base 
  penalty applied to the attack roll; for instance, a blinding 
  attack has a –30 penalty on the attack roll, which is then 
  mitigated by the drawbacks applied. For drawbacks, then, 
  the DM or player would need to think about whether 
  that shot takes longer, if the character needs to let his 
  guard down for it (drawing attacks of opportunity), if it 
  can be dodged or resisted, and so on. For the blinding 
  attack, folks might decide that it takes a full-round 
  action (reducing the penalty by 5), draws an attack 
  of opportunity from the target and fails if that attack 
  is successful (reduces penalty by 10), and might only 
  cause blindness and not damage (effects only, another 
  5 points off). After the application of the drawbacks, the 
  penalty to attack becomes –10, still pretty severe, but 
  
  far more manageable. In game terms, the attack’s going 
  to functionally blind the target for 1d4 minutes (2d4 
  minutes on a confirmed critical). Descriptively, the attack 
  might cause a loss of an eye, a deep cut above the eyes, 
  loss of vision due to concussion, or something similar. 
  In the end, the sizeable penalty and the threat of failure 
  because of a successful attack of opportunity mitigate the 
  bonus somewhat — it’s a costly trick to attempt, as it’s all 
  or nothing — if you fail, you do no damage.
  I created this maneuver on the fly as I wrote this review, 
  and I am definitely still concerned about its balance, and 
  that’s one of the catches in the system. It’s prone to 
  abuse. Mr. Mearls admits as much by explaining potential 
  ways effects could be abused, eliminating the automatic 
  success on 20 rule (if the campaign uses it, it doesn’t 
  apply to maneuvers), and even modifying or removing 
  the true strike spell. The other critical problem with the 
  system, also noted in the text, is the complexity. Creating 
  these on the fly could bog down combat immensely. 
  Suggestions presented include pre-creating them (the 
  book includes a number of pre-made maneuvers) and 
  giving the party a set group of options for combat. I 
  like this suggestion and might actually tie it into the 
  campaign’s story a little bit. Perhaps the blinding strike 
  described above needs to be taught to the fighter; he 
  needs to know exactly where and how to hit, something 
  he needs to learn from an expert or a book. This option 
  would give warrior players a bit of a carrot, just as 
  wizards could learn spells mid-game from old spellbooks 
  or other wizards.
  Stunts are a little bit less complicated than maneuvers, 
  although they require some more DM adjudication. 
  Basically, they’re free-form uses of skills during combat 
  and require skill checks or conjoined skill checks (two 
  skill checks made at the same time — for instance, climb 
  and jump), such as jumping from a balcony onto a troll 
  in the room below or running up a wall to propel yourself 
  over and behind an opponent. The rules are simpler than 
  those for maneuvers (it is, essentially, just a skill check 
  or two) but require a little thought in setting DCs, which 
  could bog things down a bit as well. The great thing 
  about these is that they use existing skills to replicate 
  something that isn’t currently in the rules. It’s a new 
  subsystem, but it doesn’t introduce new rules.
  The Ironborn and Feats of Iron Might
  The other chapters of the book are devoted to a new PC 
  race (the ironborn) and a selection of new feats (arcane 
  battle feats, battlemind feats, and fighting style feats). 
  Like the warforged from Wizards of the Coast’s Eberron 
  Campaign Setting, the ironborn are constructs, created 
  through the use of ancient and powerful magic. The 
  similarities more or less end there. Whereas the 
  warforged are presented as being quasi-organic (both 
  wood and metal are used in their construction), the 
  ironborn are distinctly mechanical and somewhat robotic 
  in their nature and description. The other difference is a 
  design choice — whereas most warforged are the same 
  (unless the warforged scout is being used as a PC race, 
  perhaps), ironborn are inherently flexible, with their 
  starting abilities depending on a package selected by the 
  player. Some might be acrobats while others are designed 
  to cast arcane spells, and each of these options grants 
  different abilities to PCs. I like this way of designing the 
  race; it does add a touch of extra work in character 
  generation for a player working with the ironborn, but it 
  fits in nicely with their back story and the idea of a 
  construct. Machines are, after all, created to do 
  something specific.
  The new groups of feats do a couple different things. 
  Arcane Battle feats, which are available to both fighters 
  and wizards as bonus feats, make the warrior-mage 
  archetype viable in a different way than other products 
  (through the use of feats rather than a prestige class). 
  They do have a rather high-fantasy feel to them, and low-
  magic campaigns might find them too flashy, but they 
  allow a warrior-mage to be competent and mystical in 
  combat without forcing the player to cripple his BAB by 
  multi-classing to wizard, or his caster level by multi-
  classing to fighter. On the whole, they seem balanced 
  within themselves, and I liked the use of BAB to 
  determine uses per day, duration, and saving throw DCs.
  Battlemind feats represent specific forms of training that 
  some warriors might pursue outside of typical martial 
  prowess (the book recommends these feats for paladins, 
  monks, and rangers). To model this training, each feat 
  must be pre-selected two levels before it can be taken. 
  One level before it’s gained, it grants a method bonus (a 
  minor perk, such as a +1 bonus to a related skill or 
  action). When it comes time to select the new feat, the 
  character seeks out a trainer to gain the full benefit. Once 
  pre-selected, a character must follow through on his 
  selection. Again, the benefits seem balanced, and, 
  additionally, the inflexibility of the system (feat selection 
  is pre-ordained) acts as a balancing point, too.
  Finally, Fighting Style feats are designed to mimic 
  specialties in certain types of combat over the course of a 
  career by granting a range of techniques as a character’s 
  BAB increases (one technique at +5, +10, +15, and 
  +20). They are a different way of mimicking the ranger’s 
  fighting styles for the other combat classes and could 
  even work well alongside them. A ranger with the Archer 
  Fighting Style and the archery feats would have that 
  many more options, as the abilities don’t overlap. For 
  instance, the Fencer style, which seems to have been 
  influenced by The Princess Bride a bit, includes the daring 
  maneuver technique, in which you, for example, fight 
  left-handed even when you aren’t left-handed, in order to 
  impress your opponent, potentially causing a morale 
  penalty in him. Out of all the feats presented in this book, 
  I liked these the best, as I hadn’t seen this particular 
  implementation of the idea before and felt that it was 
  pretty elegant.
  Conclusion
  Ultimately, this book is about options, and any time you 
  add options to a game, you run the risk of making it more 
  complex than it needs to be. People that think that d20 
  combat is too complex probably won’t like a good chunk 
  of this book, but for people that are running pulp-
  influenced or swashbuckling campaigns might find the 
  stunts and maneuvers to be a nice addition to their game. 
  Although it’s designed for fantasy gaming, I could easily 
  see this book being used in a d20 Modern campaign or 
  even a Star Wars game. Aside from the ironborn and 
  Arcane Battle feats, it’s pretty genre-neutral.
  CLASS: Supplement
  STR: 14 (Physical). Sturdy, well-made.
  DEX: 16 (Organization). Clear, easy to navigate, 
  especially within chapters.
  CON: 14 (Quantity of the Content). Presents a lot of new 
  material, a lot of it (race, feats) ready to plug-and-play.
  INT: 14 (Quality of Content). The added complexity of 
  stunts and maneuvers is not going to appeal to all 
  gamers.
  WIS: 16 (Options & Adaptability). All options, extremely 
  adaptable.
  CHA: 18 (Look & Feel). Malhavoc’s presentation and 
  design are superior.
  
  Page 30
  ”Blood and Brains: The Zombie Hunter’s 
  Guide”
  About: 66 pages, full color PDF with print version, $6.95.
  Publisher: RPGObjects (2004)
  Reviewed by: Nick Mulherin
  Review date: 1/31/2005
  Reviewer’s Bias: I received a review copy of this product.
  From the Back Cover
  zombie (ZOM-bee): n. 1. According to voodoo belief, a 
  supernatural power that can enter into and reanimate a 
  corpse. 2. A corpse revived in this way. 3. One who looks 
  or behaves like an automaton. 4. Target practice.
  Our professionals at the National Center for Reanimation 
  Prevention and Control (NCRPC) have done all the hard 
  work so you don’t have to - chopping, hacking, 
  chainsawing, and blasting the bloody gibbets off of the 
  shambling undead, all to make your life a little easier. If 
  you’ve got a case of the zombie blues, this book’s the 
  cure.
  Blood and Brains: The Zombie Hunter’s Guide is a d20 
  Modern supplement full of zombie hunting goodness, 
  including:
  • 10 new occupations
  • a new organization (The National Center for 
  Reanimation Prevention and Control) 
  • 16 new feats
  • plenty of stuff to blow zombies up with, including the 
  trench spike and Shaolin spade
  • seven new combat techniques
  • five new advanced classes
  • three psionic powers and 37 spells
  • madness and trust rules
  • five new FX items
  • and of course, lots and lots of zombies (over 20), 
  including a random zombie generator. So what are you 
  waiting for? Grab your shotgun and your axe and start 
  the dezombification process in your local town today!
  Introduction
  My life, as of late, seems to be inundated with zombies. 
  Or, at least, the cinematic kind. With the remake of 
  Romero’s Dawn of the Dead and the zombie-flick spoof 
  Shaun of the Dead fresh in my mind, I found it amusing 
  that I’d be reviewing Michael Tresca’s Zombie Hunter’s 
  Guide. It only fits. Of course, should my co-workers and 
  family start to mention, casually and between gurgling 
  noises, that they could “go for a bit of brain,” I imagine 
  I’d be far more worried than I am now. All in all, an odd 
  coincidence, I suppose, as I’ve never really been a 
  zombie type of guy, really.
  Blood and Brains takes the form of a guidebook written 
  by the National Center for Reanimation Prevention and 
  Control (NCRPC) for zombie hunters and details character 
  options, appropriate equipment, zombie FX, and the 
  different types of zombies. The book is meant to cover all 
  types of potential zombie infestations from a small, 
  localized problem (such as dancing zombies, as in the 
  video for “Thriller,” perhaps?) to a zombie apocalypse 
  (Dawn of the Dead and the such). 
  Presentation
  The book looks professional, without feeling antiseptic, 
  something that I’ve found to be true of all the RPG 
  Objects products that I own. Jeremy Simmons’s cover is 
  simple, but pretty effective, depicting the shadow of a 
  zombie set against a brick wall and locked in the 
  crosshairs of a gun. Smaller art, including two 
  decomposing corpses and a few weapons (shotgun and 
  chainsaw) for use in exterminating the walking dead, 
  surrounds the main art. Although it’s neither the best or 
  most exciting cover art I’ve seen on a product, it is 
  appropriate and well done. For a PDF product, I’m not 
  sure that one can really ask for more. John 
  Longenbaugh’s interior art, all grayscale pencil and ink 
  stuff, is nice, although there’s not much of it, and what is 
  there is rather static (a Necromancer posing with a 
  zombie or a Bokor with two or three zombies).
  As far as style and tone, Mr. Tresca’s writing is fluid, 
  highly readable, and enjoyable, even if the humor 
  sometimes feels a bit forced (such as in the Professions 
  section of Chapter 1). I did not notice any glaring spelling 
  errors or other typographical mistakes. 
  Characters
  Blood and Brains presents a number of new professions, 
  advanced classes, and feats. On the whole, the new 
  professions, with their emphasis on roles for teenagers, 
  seem to make the product more appropriate for a cross-
  genre type game (half-slasher flick, half-zombie flick with 
  a good dose of ironic distance, something like Scream 
  meets Night of the Living Dead). I’m not saying this to 
  knock the product but to advise people looking for a 
  deadly serious treatment of zombies. You won’t find it 
  here.
  The advanced classes and feats were a mixed bag. I 
  liked the Bokor a lot and the Zombie Hunter well enough, 
  but was substantially less interested in the others. 
  The Mad Scientist fills an appropriate role, but I felt 
  as though it could be done with a few feats, skills, and 
  spells instead of an entire 10-level advanced class. The 
  same could be said for the Necromancer, which could be 
  done just by accepting the appropriate spells and feats 
  from the core rules or this book. I’m not even sure why 
  the Psychokinetic is in here (aside from its prerequisite 
  of having the Scream Queen profession). My biggest 
  concern with the new feats was their specificity — a lot 
  of them are really only appropriate for a zombie-killing 
  game, and others didn’t work at all for me. For instance, 
  Backhand Slash allows you a free attack of opportunity 
  on a creature behind you, but the d20 system doesn’t 
  have built-in facing rules for combat. The idea’s great, 
  but it mandates an increase in complexity in an already 
  complex combat system (in order for the feat to be of 
  value, characters must have facing, and it must have an 
  impact on how and where they’re allowed to attack).
  
  Page 31
  Zombie Hunting and Zombie FX
  These two chapters are nice, but don’t provide a lot of 
  exciting material, in my opinion. The first chapter spends 
  a lot of time describing weapons and their effects on 
  zombies. If you can think of it, chances are it popped up 
  in here, too. It’s thorough, but not earth-shattering. I did, 
  however, like the inclusion of prosthetics in this section 
  and could see porting them over into another modern 
  game. The highlight of the Zombie Hunting chapter for 
  me was the critical hit tables for undead. It’s a great idea, 
  simple and well-designed; rather than doing excess 
  damage, characters do cosmetic damage, smashing off 
  legs, cutting off ears, and damaging nerves. I would have 
  liked the table to be more clearly presented (it’s a bit odd 
  at first glance to line up the subtable with the maintable), 
  but I could see this as being a lot of fun for the GM and 
  the players. It translates the gore so prevalent in the 
  genre into concrete mechanics for the game. Good stuff.
  In the FX chapter, I enjoyed the new FX items, 
  particularly the shotgun of zombie slaying and the zombie 
  powder, the latter of which has a fantastic amount of 
  flavor information that ties it into the Bokor advanced 
  class. Of the spells, I found most of them to be nothing 
  more than direct ports of appropriate spells from the d20 
  SRD (such as gentle repose and death watch), but did like 
  the last four spells: zombie belch, zombie blight (although 
  the description of the spell goofs when it says that only 
  good and neutral characters are hurt by the spell — d20 
  Modern uses allegiances, not alignments, and characters 
  may not have any allegiances to good or evil), zombie 
  drain, and zombie fever, even though they’re probably 
  going to be best used by NPCs, not PCs, as it would be 
  pretty odd to have a zombie hunter going around casting 
  zombie fever on zombies and townsfolk.
  The thing I liked least about these two chapters (and, 
  indeed, the book) was the introduction of Madness Rating 
  as a mechanic and system. The insanity rules from Call of 
  Cthulhu and Unearthed Arcana work far better for me and 
  would work just as well in this game as they do in others. 
  The rules work in similar ways, and I’d rather just use the 
  others. They’re cleaner and better codified in my opinion. 
  That said, I did like the guidelines for Trust that followed 
  the Madness Rating rules and thought that they could be 
  ported nicely to just about any game where survival’s at a 
  premium.
  Zombie Field Guide
  On the whole, this was my favorite chapter in the book. It 
  has a nice assortment of new monsters and some nice 
  rules for customizing zombies. Of the new monsters, my 
  favorites were the hsing-sings and the Sumatran rat 
  monkeys, both of which could be a lot of fun in a pulp 
  game with an emphasis on exploration and lost 
  civilizations in mountains and jungles. I also liked the 
  trillians, which had that 1950s/War of the Worlds alien 
  feel in their dress and powers. They probably wouldn’t 
  work for a game set in the current day, but they could be 
  cool if used in the right time period. The only monster 
  that gave me pause was the bloodsucking wind, which 
  could be very nasty in a campaign with little or no magic 
  — with lots of hitpoints, DR 10/-, invisibility, high saving 
  throw bonuses, and no save on its energy drain ability 
  (this last could, I hope, be a goof), it’ll wipe the floor with 
  most parties. Likely, it’d be better used as a plot device 
  than a combat encounter.
  The highlight of the chapter (and the book) for me 
  was the zombie template and accompanying material, 
  including the tables for random zombie creation (allowing 
  random modification of type, defenses, vulnerabilities, 
  movement, hardiness, special abilities, and so on). There 
  are a lot of different ways to modify zombies here, and all 
  of them have notes on their game effects and the impact 
  they have on the zombie’s CR. For instance, a zombie 
  with TV travel can travel through television signals from 
  one TV to another at the cost of +2 CR; a zombie that 
  explodes into tiny worms on death might cause a PC to 
  become infected with creeps at the cost of +1 CR. It’s 
  nice and modular. The back end of this section includes 
  a number of sample zombies that a GM can spring on his 
  players, from bloodsucking zombies to cryonoid zombies 
  (the cryogenically-frozen come back to life and powered 
  by lightning) to Nazi zombies and Templar zombies. 
  What’s nice about these examples is that they suggest 
  a number of different settings for a game with zombies, 
  aside from a vanilla, any-town modern game, and that 
  they show how the rules for customizing zombies can 
  work. I should note that Wizards of the Coast’s Libris 
  Mortis does this, too, but not as extensively and with little 
  overlap (the bloodsucking zombie and the bloodthirsty 
  zombie are similar, but that’s about all).
  Conclusion
  If you’re looking to run a game centered around a zombie 
  attack using d20 rules, Blood and Brains is extremely 
  thorough, and its treatment of zombies along with the 
  zombie critical tables could be adapted to most any 
  standard d20 game. The rest of the book probably won’t 
  translate well to non-modern genres or would at least 
  require a good deal of work to fit into a fantasy or swords 
  and sorcery game, although I could see the Bokor and its 
  accompanying material being modified for a fantasy game 
  as a type of necromancer. All in all, it’s a fun book and 
  does exactly what it sets out to do.
  CLASS: Supplement
  STR: NA (Physical). This score does not apply to this 
  product.
  DEX: 14 (Organization). Excellent organization, strong 
  use of bookmarks.
  CON: 16 (Quantity of the Content). Tons of new ideas and 
  rules.
  INT: 12 (Quality of Content). Sometimes the content is 
  little more than reprinted rules from the SRD and some of 
  isn’t necessary or executed well.
  WIS: 12 (Options & Adaptability). Aside from the last 
  chapter, most material wouldn’t work outside the modern 
  genre.
  CHA: 14 (Look & Feel). Clean and professional.
  
  Page 32
  World of Darkness: Antagonists
  Authors: Pamela Collins, Aaron Dembski- Bowden, 
  Jonathan McFarland, & Morgan A. McLaughlin
  Publisher: White Wolf Publishing
  Reviewed by: Nash J. DeVita
  Review Date: January 31st, 2005
  Reviewer Bias: This title was received for review 
  purposes. This is the first supplement book for World of 
  Darkness that I have read and reviewed.
  Antagonists is the first supplement book from the World 
  of Darkness. 132 page, hard cover with interior black & 
  white illustrations from some artists I am familiar with 
  and some that I am not - Sam Araya, Durwin Talon, Avery 
  Butterworth, Michael Gaydos, Travis Ingram, and James 
  Cole. The cover work was once again provided by Becky 
  Jollensten, Mike Chaney, and Matt Millberger.
  From the Back Cover
  “The shadows go deeper than you can possibly imagine.
  Kill me, but know this: There is no going back now.
  -Preston Callahan, occultist and suspected demon 
  worshipper (deceased).
  This book includes:
  - Story hooks and suggestions usable for any World of 
  Darkness chronicle.
  - A look into the myriad possibilities of the supernatural.
  - Toolkits for building enemies, rivals or pawns for all 
  types of characters.
  For use with the World of Darkness Rulebook.”
  Presentation
  Antagonists’ cover features what appears to be a scare 
  crow wearing a gas mask. This image is set upon a 
  background of dark grey clouds. The title is in stark 
  opposition to the cover since it is in pure white. 
  All of the interior artwork is black and white. Most of the 
  pieces are half page, either across or taking up the space 
  of one full column of text. Many, though not all, of the 
  illustrations are perfectly placed when in comparison with 
  the surrounding text. 
  Content
  This book is very simple in its ideas, layout, and 
  execution. This simplicity is what makes this book damn 
  near perfect. It is what it needs to be and tries to be 
  nothing else.
  Antagonists is broken down into four chapters – one for 
  each general classification being presented. Each chapter 
  is then broken into topics – general traits, common tactics 
  for both player and storyteller, and finally specific ‘breeds’ 
  of the genus.
  Also, specific ‘character creation’ tips are provided. These 
  can cover everything from how to spend attribute points 
  to what specific backgrounds are a good idea and what 
  kinds of supernatural powers can be possessed (in the 
  instances that there are actually powers).
  Chapter One – The Living Dead 
  Zombies. No horror book is complete without zombies. 
  They get first honors in this book, actually. Also included 
  here are golem like Imbued, Revenants (spirits who 
  possess bodies), and more Zombies. Vampires could 
  technically be included in this chapter. Thankfully, the 
  authors opted to leave them out being as that they have 
  a line of books all to themselves. 
  There are multiple methods of zombie creation. A few are 
  touch upon. Also discussed are some of the possibilities 
  for creation of Imbued and Revenants as well. Yeah 
  – disease! 
  Sadly, what to do with the zombies that are left ‘alive’ 
  after the siege is not discussed. Any of you who have 
  seen Shaun of the Dead know exactly what I am talking 
  about.
  For any Storyteller who really wants their players to 
  sweat or any player who expects to run into this sort of 
  enemy, I HIGHLY suggest reading The Zombie Survival 
  Guide by Max Brooks. It is a fantastic read that brings a 
  lot of details into proper light. 
  There are roughly a half dozen specific examples of these 
  kinds of characters given at the end of the chapter. These 
  cover all of the broad classifications of ‘living dead’. I was 
  very happy to see one of the characters from the opening 
  fiction detailed here.
  Chapter Two – A Need for Vengeance 
  Think Hunter: the Reckoning without the powers. These 
  are real people who have seen the truth. They have seen 
  the beasts for what they are and hunt them like animals.
  Friends are good. Letting anyone get too close to you is 
  bad. This is a hard line to walk and can easily lead to a 
  mental breakdown. This is not something uncommon for 
  ‘hunters’.
  Why do they hunt? A great number of people, whether 
  they wish to admit it or not, are xenophobic. Those 
  people who are not like them are not to be liked. The 
  more different the creature, the more it can be hated. Of 
  course, violence due to lack of understanding is far from 
  the only reason, I’m sure. More than one of these beasts 
  has ripped one man’s family to shreds in front of his eyes 
  or whatever horrible event you can imagine. 
  How does a human stack up against a supernatural 
  being? If approaching the situation without a plan, almost 
  as well as going toe to toe with a bull-dozer. Plans have to 
  incorporate friends, enemies, and even the law. Make that 
  – especially the law. 
  
  Page 33
  Once again, there are about a half dozen sample 
  characters that run the gamut. These individuals come 
  from all walks of life, not just the poor, military trained, 
  holy, etc.
  Chapter Three – The Righteous and the Wicked 
  So, the last chapter dealt with normal people. This one 
  deals with those backed by spiritual power. Notice that I 
  did not say ‘holy’. This power need not be from God. This 
  power need not be supernatural either. It can be as 
  simple as action based on belief or it can be as complex 
  as ‘magic’ through ritual. 
  In a reality in which the supernatural exist there will likely 
  live (or ‘live’, as the case may be) some supernaturals 
  who seek power of mortals. One of the fastest ways to 
  feel powerful is to have followers. This is the most basic 
  idea behind a cult, though a cult need not be based 
  around a supernatural individual.
  To have a cult, you must have people. How to recruit (or 
  brainwash) followers and keep them is addressed early on 
  in the chapter. Actually, this is discussed even before the 
  different types of cults and actions of cults. 
  There are a great number of different cults out there (in 
  reality and in the World of Darkness). Some are religious, 
  others seek magical power they believe to exist 
  (reasonably or not), and still those that have nothing do 
  with religion but are another ‘organization’ all together 
  (secret or overt).
  Just as there are many types of cults there are many 
  types of cult leaders. What makes a good cult leader is 
  pretty straight forward, no matter the kind of cult. One 
  must be charismatic, have (or feign) concern for his 
  followers, and have a strong idea of what lines can and 
  can not be crossed by his followers. 
  There are a few cults described, one for each type, and a 
  cult leader for each type as well.
  Chapter Four – Fear Given Form 
  This final chapter can be viewed from a couple of different 
  directions. It can be viewed as intended, as a collection of 
  ‘real’ monsters that can have no classification. It can also 
  be viewed as ‘everything that didn’t fit’. How you view it 
  is up to you.
  This chapter breaks the mold of the previous three in 
  many ways. It still has the common tactics, but that is 
  short when compared to the rest of the book. In fact, 
  each monster that is presented here is like its own ‘genus’ 
  of monsters. Since there is only one of each being or 
  group of beings, there is no need for specific examples. 
  Each is given a background, description, story hooks, and 
  stats. 
  It is obvious where some of the antagonists given in this 
  chapter came from. Others, on the other hand, I have no 
  idea where the inspiration lies. 
  Conclusion
  Though the title of the book is fairly boring, it is straight 
  forward. There is no real need for a fancy title. It is called 
  Antagonists because that is what it contains - nothing 
  more, nothing less.
  I am very pleased with this title because it does not try to 
  be what it isn’t. The authors clearly had no 
  misconceptions of what the book was meant to contain. It 
  contains only what it should and presents it in a very 
  clear and enjoyable fashion.
  I would have rather seen this done as a paperback 
  instead of a hardback. I believe that all upcoming 
  releases in the WoD line are to be hardbacks, however, 
  even if only 120 or so pages.
  Archetype: Enemy Supplement
  Body 9 (Game Mechanics): The core rules are followed.
  Mind 11 (Organization): It does not get much better.
  Spirit 9 (Look & Feel): Some of the art was lacking. There 
  could have been a little more art, too.
  Attack 9 (Value of Content): This book would have been 
  better done as a paperback.
  Defense 10 (Originality of Content): Some was expected, 
  some was not.
  Health 10 (Physical Quality): The only damage I would 
  expect to ever see are banged corners.
  Magic 10 (Options & Adaptability): Enemies abound in 
  Antagonists. There is at least one that can be used in any 
  WoD game.
  Wyrd is Bond
  Authors: Jason L. Blair
  Publisher: Key 20 Publishing
  Reviewed by: Nash J. DeVita
  Review Date: February 16th, 2005
  Reviewer Bias: My background with this title is a strange 
  one. When I first heard of this title I passed it off as 
  garbage. I really did not want anything to do with the 
  title. That was pre-Gen Con 2004. I spoke with the kind 
  folks at the booth briefly while at the con since I was 
  familiar with Key 20 from their title Little Fears. I was 
  inquiring about the other products he had at the booth 
  and we came to ‘Wyrd is Bond’. I asked about it, maybe 
  looking for a reason to like it, maybe looking for a real 
  reason to dislike it. I still can’t be sure. What I was told 
  had me intrigued, however. Wyrd is Bond sounded much 
  deeper than I had originally expected. I had to know 
  more. Once my schedule allowed it, I began reaching out 
  to make some other contacts in the industry and got in 
  touch with Jason who was more than happy to send me a 
  copy. Now, my desire to actually play this game is great! 
  I just have to find the right group. Yes, I have gone from 
  wanting nothing to do with the title to truly wanting to 
  play it.
  Wyrd is Bond is a roughly ninety (90) page, long perfect 
  bound paper back of standard height and width (unlike 
  Little Fears which was an odd height and width). Leanne 
  Buckly and Carlo Barros provide the rough comic book 
  style illustrations that are found throughout this book.
  
  Page 34
  From the Back Cover
  “Trade the pointy hats for X caps.
  Trade the guilds for gangs and staffs for Glocks. Trade the 
  folklore for funk and the history for hip-hop. Trade tomes 
  for CDs, bards for DJs, trade minstrels for MCs. Trade 
  what you think for the harsh reality.
  This is a world where slingers peel each others caps for 
  the secrets of the streets. This is a time just before it all 
  went commercial and everybody and their mama had a 
  record deal.
  This is a world just one beat from our own where magic 
  has hit the mainstream and slingers- turned- rappers 
  are getting gold records while sowing discord among the 
  elders.
  This is a world where saying too much can cost you 
  your life. Take it from me, kid, life on the street ain’t no 
  plaything and you have to work for your payday.
  On the street the most important thing you have is your 
  wyrd.”
  Presentation
  The cover features an African-American individual who, 
  while not physically threatening, manages to be quite 
  imposing looking. He is wearing a (Malcolm) X hat and a 
  branded shirt (Enok is a fictional clothing brand within the 
  game world). He is flashing his gang sign. The hand that 
  he is signing with is billowing grey smoke. I think what 
  makes this man so imposing is the lack of color in his 
  eyes. They are eerily solid white.
  The illustrations between the covers are fairly similar 
  in style. They are ‘comic book style’, black and white 
  illustrations. I love the look of the art for the feel of the 
  game. I particularly like the DJ on page 90!
  I really like the page border images. It is a collection of 
  brick, a very common sight for anyone spending a good 
  portion of time in any city within the United States. I can 
  not think of any other image that would not distract from 
  the feeling of the text. This, in fact, slightly enhances it.
  Content
  One must keep in mind when reading this title that it is a 
  work of fiction that deals with a very serious lifestyle, that 
  of a gang member. No matter what power one has, life on 
  the streets is tough and this book does not try to make 
  light of that situation, thankfully. Wyrd is Bond touches 
  upon real gangs briefly but most of the material for the 
  game is up to the GM to include or choose not to include. 
  It does not try to be a treatise of real gangs or real gang 
  life, though it does discuss them briefly. 
  Somewhat on the same note, players and GMs alike must 
  decide what level of ‘street’ they really want to use in 
  the game so as to not make it seem farcical. There are a 
  number of terms that are used in current street lingo that 
  some people may very well be offended by. The use of 
  those words is just one of the many decisions that must 
  be addressed to have an over-all acceptable comfort level 
  for all participants.
  The title opens with a piece of short fiction to help get the 
  reader into the world of Wyrd is Bond and, to a degree, 
  the general feel of life on the streets. This short tale 
  tells of an individual who becomes introduced to magic 
  through song and has in run-ins with various gangs and 
  gang members.
  Chapters, or Tracks as they are called here, one and two 
  are of the utmost importance for all possible players of 
  this game to read. These two short chapters summarize, 
  quite well, what Wyrd is Bond is and is not as well as the 
  basic background and what has changed from the real 
  world.
  The heart of the book really begins with Track three: I’m 
  your Slinger. This gives a somewhat closer look at slinging 
  gangs and the differences from ‘normal’ gangs and how 
  slingers can fit into each.
  The seven (7) slinger gangs that are available are 
  detailed here. Each has a very different take on life 
  and how to wield their power. The Crows are focused 
  on material goods above all else while The Ghosts 
  are primarily concerned with the well being of their 
  neighborhoods and local residents. The D-Men push dark 
  trade, such as guns and drugs, since they work for/with 
  demons. They are directly opposed by The 3xStars who 
  despise cruelty and unnecessary violence. This is just a 
  small portion of the gangs available and their views. As 
  you can see from these few examples, however, there is a 
  great dichotomy and even greater opposition.
  Track four goes into the system. The system is really 
  interesting, in my opinion. The most basic rolls are done 
  on three dice. Each of these dice is assigned to one of 
  three traits: Order, Power, and Pay Back. Order tells 
  character initiative, power tells strength, and payback, 
  well, payback gives tons of fun options. 
  The fifth track is fairly standard. It is the GM’s chapter. It 
  discusses NPCs, the feel of the game and how to keep it, 
  possible plot hooks, etc.
  The sixth and final track is also pretty standard. In it, two 
  fairly complete scenarios are provided for quick and easy 
  use.
  Conclusion
  Though there are a couple of items that are not discussed 
  as thoroughly as they could/should be, this is a fairly 
  complete book. That is quite a feat for a 90 page title!
  I am saddened that the one item that bugged me early 
  on was not discussed. If characters are members of 
  different gangs, how could/should a GM go about telling a 
  story around them equally?
  Beyond that one issue, I a clear on things after just 
  one read through. Yes, the writing, though some of 
  it is ‘written in street’ is easy to read and easier to 
  understand. This fact helps make clear a setting that is so 
  unfamiliar to the vast majority of the people who would 
  be playing this game.
  Archetype: Core Book
  Body 10 (Game Mechanics): Fresh ideas. Nice simple 
  system.
  Mind 10 (Organization): I was confused on a couple of 
  items briefly.
  Spirit 10 (Look & Feel): Great for the subject matter.
  Attack 9 (Value of Content): This is a great, complete 
  game for $20.
  Defense 11 (Originality of Content): I’ve never read 
  anything like it before. 
  Health 9 (Physical Quality): Perfect bound paper back.
  Magic 11 (Options & Adaptability): Many stories are ready 
  to be told.
  
  Page 35
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  Page 36
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  Next Issue:
  April 1, 2005
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Dungeons & Dragons [multi]/Books/3p/Silven/Silven - Trumpeter - 19 - Mar 2005.pdf