“Arioch! Arioch! Blood and souls for my lord Arioch!”

Continuing the year of Pop Culture, I figured I’d dip in the world of Fantasy Literature; a genre that grabbed me tightly as a kid and has never once let go.

Of all of Michael Moorcock’s Eternal Champion material (and there’s a shitload of it), the only tales I read were his Elric stories. I just reviewed the chronology, and it seems I’ve read most of the main sequence of tales up until the end; but I didn’t read much of Moorcock’s later Elric works that took place at uncertain points in the main timeline. I have a weird relationship with Elric of Melnibone. I read the stories at an age where I didn’t have the maturity to fully appreciate them. I recall loving almost everything about the character of Elric (albino sorcerer with a soul-sucking sword) but hating every story he was in. I found them incredibly boring. (I think I need to reread them, but I got rid of my old paperbacks a long time ago. I just found out they’re going for $75 bucks each on eBay. What the actual fuck?!)

Elric is by far the most famous of Moorcock’s characters; the original emo anti-hero. He was angst-ridden and emotionally tortured long before it was cool. He’s the disaffected prince of a dying race who sees the end coming and laments it. He’s a drug-dependent sorcerer who makes deals with demons because…why not? Eventually, he finds Stormbringer, a magical sword of great power that gives him vitality and formidable fighting skills and feeds upon the souls of its victims. Carrying a sword like that is never a good idea, and (spoiler alert) Stormbringer is ultimately responsible for the destruction of everything Elric cares about.

I’ve had this miniature for a long time. It was in one of the first orders I made when I got back into miniature painting around 12 years ago. Bronze Age had the John Carter stuff, so I added this figure to it and it’s sat there in the blister all this time. This is the “Elf Anti-Hero”. He (deliberately, I think) looks a bit like a certain albino Eternal Champion, so that’s who I painted him as.

As stated above, he’s also only one incarnation of Moorcock’s Eternal Champion archetype, which is so fucking confusing I’ll just reproduce what Wikipedia says about it here: (The Eternal Champion is…) an appointed paladin of Balance who is bound to exist in each and every world and age of the Multiverse, so that Law and Chaos are perpetually kept in check. There are about thirty different Eternal Champion characters, and I couldn’t give a shit about any of them. I get the feeling it’s probably somewhat incomprehensible, and although I would give Elric another go to see if my opinion has changed with maturity, I just don’t have the energy to really get into anything else. To be honest, looking at the sheer volume of characters and series, I’d have to be way more of a Moorcock fan than I am (which is to say not much) to even attempt it.

Still, the fact remains that Moorcock has influenced a lot of writers who have come after; and was a huge influence on the development of Dungeons & Dragons. In fact, the characters from Elric were originally included in the very first printing of Deities & Demigods, along with Cthulhu and other Lovecraftian entities, before Chaosium got the rights to both and put out their own games (Stormbringer and Call of Cthulhu, respectively).

He’s definitely pop culture, that’s for certain.

I’m trying to publish a bit more regularly; so if you are a casual visitor to Dead Dick’s Tavern, don’t be surprised to find more than one post waiting for you on your next visit. I make no promises about how long that will last; but for now I have a few things in the pipeline to get to. Up next is likely a return to the Enterprise-D, for what I hope will be the last prose post before I actually start the gaming part…

The Pawn: Part 4

Lieutenant Worf stood in Holodeck 4, watching LaForge and Data as they wandered through the three-dimensional holographic recreation of the interior of the Mok’tagh. The isolinear rod had provided enough data to make this simulation possible, and LaForge thought it was the best way to determine what had happened and why. Worf looked around, noting how different the interior of the Mok’tagh was compared to the Enterprise; spartan and cold, with no thought given to aesthetics. He felt his Klingon blood stir. What would it be like to serve aboard a ship such as this–a warrior’s ship–rather than a ship of exploration like Enterprise? He glanced at the PADD in his hand and growled in exasperation.

Data looked up from the holographic EPS conduit he was examining. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

Worf’s eyes narrowed. “Commander, we are wasting time. The Klingons will have little regard for–” he gestured at the simulation, “this. “

“We are using our most effective method of determining the cause of the accident aboard the Mok’tagh given the data we have at our disposal. I fail to see how that is an inefficient use of time.”

“The Klingons have already decided Lieutenant Barclay’s guilt. They will not be swayed by holograms.”

“Maybe they won’t have to be.” LaForge sounded puzzled. “Worf, besides Barclay, who else was on the engineering detail?”

Worf regarded the PADD. ” Enisgns Mokta and Ramirez, Crewmen Steinway and Cortland, Specialist J’zhara.”

“That’s six,” LaForge said, “and they’re all here. But that makes no sense. The conduit that exploded was one level down. None of our crew were anywhere near there.” Geordi regarded his tricorder. “Wait a minute. This shows some modifications were done from the engineering deck.”

Data spoke. “Computer: please display the engineering deck of the Mok’tagh, same time stamp.” The room shimmered and the EPS conduit tubes were replaced with the environment of the Klingon engineering deck. Several Klingons were manning their positions. All seemed calm and in order, except for one thing.

“Guys,” said LaForge, “who the hell is that?”

“A Vulcan?” Picard asked. “Explain.”

“We don’t know, sir,” answered LaForge. He regarded the display screen in the observation lounge, where the image of a tall, middle-aged Vulcan man in a Starfleet engineering uniform was pictured. He looked around the room at the senior staff, seated once again at the conference table. “One thing’s for sure, he’s not an engineer on this ship. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Someone not in Starfleet, then?” asked Troi. “There are plenty of civilians aboard.”

“Computer,” Picard said, “How many Vulcans are presently aboard the Enterprise?”

“There is a total of 84 Vulcans aboard,” the ship’s computer answered.

“Are all accounted for?”

“Affirmative.”

“Identify this person.” Picard commanded.

“Identity unknown.”

“We inquired already, sir,” Data said. “There is no record of this individual ever setting foot on the Enterprise.”

“Near as we can tell, he must have split off from Barclay’s team and went to the engineering deck on his own,” said LaForge. “That’s probably where the sabotage occurred.”

Barclay protested. “But he didn’t split off! He was never with us, Commander! I’m sure of it!” He seemed to realize he was shouting, and lowered his voice. “I think I would have noticed someone I don’t know on my team…”

“As you were, Lieutenant,” Riker said. “No one in this room doubts your word.”

“That is about to change,” said Worf, as the doors to the observation lounge opened, signaling the return of the three Klingons.

“Well, Picard?” asked B’rul. “Are you ready to hand your officer over for interrogation?” Picard gestured to the empty chairs again. After a moment, B’rul sat, the others following suit.

“It seems, Captain,” Picard began, “that we have something of a mystery on our hands.” He briefly explained the situation to the Klingons. “We strongly suspect this man,” Picard indicated the image of the Vulcan on the screen, “is our saboteur, but we have been unable to identify him.”

“Not surprising,” laughed Gr’val. “One Vulcan looks much like another.” His remark was met with stony silence. Even B’rul looked disgusted. “Shut your mouth, you ignorant fool,” he said in Klingon. Gr’val flushed and stared at the table.

“What are you playing at, Picard?” demanded B’rul. “This Vulcan transported to the Mok’tagh from the Enterprise. He’s one of your engineers!”

“I assure you, he is not,” Picard said. “We have no record of this individual ever being aboard this ship.”

“Lies!” shouted Gr’val, pointing at Picard.

B’rul turned to him slowly, his eyes flashing. He did not bother to address his adjutant in the Klingon language this time. “If you dare to speak without my leave again, you will not leave this room.” Gr’val clamped his mouth shut. Dresa smirked.

B’rul stood up and approached the viewscreen console. He stared at the unfamiliar interface for a moment, then began to access the data from the isolinear rod. “These are the transportation communications between the Mok’tagh and your ship,” he said.

Everyone listened as the logs began to play. “Enterprise to Mok’tagh,” came the voice of Transporter Chief O’Brien. “Six to beam aboard.”

“Acknowledged,” came a gruff Klingon voice. A moment later, the whine of the transporter could be heard.

“Transport complete,” came the Klingon voice again.

Barclay began to speak. “Yes, that was when we beamed over. But there was no Vulcan with us. Specialist J’zhara is Andorian and Ensign Mokta is Tellarite, the rest of us are human–“

“Silence!” B’rul said, holding up his hand, as O’Brien’s voice began again.

“Enterprise to Mok’tagh: looks like we forgot one. He’s on his way over now.”

Cloaked Assassin

A brief interlude from Star Trek for my Character of the Month, and to show off my mad organization skillz, brah!

For Tom’s #paintanadventuringparty challenge over on Instagram, I present my Character of the Month from Ral Partha: The Cloaked Assassin, by sculpted by Bob Charrette, from their Fantasy Adventurers range (03-058).

I’ve had this fellow for thirty years or so; another occupant of my pile of shame that I never got around to painting. He was, however, primed white, so I must have at least intended to paint him at some point. I primed him black over the white before I painted him this time, however.

I’ve never been a big fan of putting assassins in adventuring parties. In my mind, assassins should be either adversaries to the PCs or something else entirely, not a character class. Why would an assassin go on an adventure? They have a pretty limited skill set: they know how to kill people. Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to stick to what they’re good at? Garroting someone in an alley seems far safer than kicking down a door in a necromancer’s crypt and fighting his undead minions, doesn’t it?

So, let’s call this guy a thief instead. Or rogue, if you prefer the current nomenclature of D&D 5E.

This was my painting desk up until a couple of months ago. Although you can’t really see them, most of my paints sat on a pair of old spice racks. These cheap plastic racks were not designed for paint (duh), and I often had the annoying chore of picking up paints from the floor, where they had fallen between my desk and the wall after being knocked over or jostled from their precarious perches on the too-narrow racks.

Something needed to be done, so a new rack was constructed from XPS foam. This one measured the entire length of my desk and was designed to fit flush along the wall. The shelves were intentionally made wide enough to accommodate multiple rows of bottles of all different types, from dropper bottles to pop-tops to even the dreaded (and hated) old-style Citadel twist-off paint pots.

Here’s what it looks like now. Although I would have been content to just slap together some pink foam and use it as-is, my better half flatly refused to even consider such a stupid idea and wouldn’t allow it. She painted and wrapped the whole thing in adhesive shelf paper, so now my paint rack looks like it’s made of solid marble.

I love it. No more falling paint pots. Room for all may paints and then some (which just means I will fill the space eventually). Naturally I took photos because I know it will not look like this for long. So far I’ve managed to keep it tidy.

But wait, there’s more! I decided to take this opportunity to organize my gaming closet, too. So, here it is!

Thirty-plus years of roleplaying games on the left side.

Board games and RPG boxed sets in the middle.

More board games, miniatures games and terrain (including a Mighty Fortress!), and collectible card games on the right (last played circa 2004 or so).

Last but not least: the pile of shame; or as I like to call it: the Insanity Pile. Old miniatures, new miniatures, abandoned projects, projects I know I will never get to but won’t say are abandoned, projects I intend to get to one day, and projects I will actually work on. The plastic cases at the bottom hold Owen’s miniatures; the white boxes on the second shelf are mostly Heroclix, and all the shit you can’t see behind what you see here is mostly bitz on sprues and unopened armies and units for 40K and WFB. On the Naya rack is unpainted Plasticville scenery and most of the High Elf Army I’ll never get to. And of course, on the top are all my old-school miniatures, some painted, some not. The plain cardboard boxes hold various projects, including what I have left from last year’s order from Wargames Terrain Workshop!

Gotta say, I like this organization thing a lot. This stuff was all over my basement, and I got tired of hearing about it. I took these pictures to remind me what it’s like to be responsible and put away my toys.

They also make it clear that I really need to get rid of stuff.

Next: back to the Enterprise-D!

The Pawn: Part 3

Most of the senior staff were assembled in the observation lounge, Barclay seated between LaForge and Troi on the far side of the oblong table. On one end sat Commander Data, flanked by Worf; while on the other, in his customary seat, sat Captain Picard, Commander Riker by his side. The doors from the main bridge opened and a nervous-looking security officer glanced in before turning back and stepping aside to allow the Captain’s guests passage.

B’rul entered, flanked by two other Klingons; one male, one female. “Greetings, Captain,” said Picard, then gestured to three empty chairs at his right. “Please, be comfortable.”

The Klingons sat. “My first officer, Dresa,” B’rul said, indicating the tall woman on his right, “and my adjutant, Lieutenant G’rval. ”

Picard made his own introductions quickly. Although B’rul and G’rval stiffened and glared when Worf was introduced, they said nothing. Dresa just stared at him, her expression neutral. “And this,” Picard said at last, “is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay.”

“Uh…hello,” Barclay said awkwardly.

“The murderer!” shouted G’rval, pounding a gauntlet on the table. “Why is he not in the brig?” Barclay visibly quailed. Troi, to his left, placed her hand over his in a reassuring gesture.

“I am not in the habit of confining my officers without cause,” Picard said. “All we know is that the Mok’tagh was destroyed. Mr. Barclay has denied doing so.” Picard glanced at Barclay, who nodded emphatically.

“Of course he denies it,” G’rval said. “Would a guilty man say anything else?”

“Would an innocent man say anything else?” Picard countered. “I do not believe my officer had any ill intent when he boarded that ship; at Captain K’Vaakh’s request, I might add.”

B’rul leaned forward over the table and laced his large hands together, staring hard at Picard. “Fortunately for us, Captain, your beliefs are not proof. We have the data logs of the Mok’tagh. It is standard procedure for all Klingon vessels to transmit ship data when in close proximity to other vessels, so the Empire always has fleet records that are as accurate as possible. That way,” B’rul smiled, “if any accidents should occur, there are fewer unanswered questions as to their cause.”

“You have these records now?” asked Picard. “I should like to review them.”

“I thought you might,” B’rul said, nodding to his adjutant. G’rval grinned and produced a small isolinear data rod. He gently placed it on the table and slid it to Picard, who made no move to take it. B’rul stood up and the other Klingons rose with him. “You have three hours, Picard. Review it to your heart’s content; but take no longer than three hours. Then, I will expect this man to be turned over to the Empire for further questioning. Do not make me come and get him.” He turned, his weighted coat flaring behind him as he strode through the doors of the observation lounge back out to the main bridge, G’rval following. Dresa stared hard at Lieutenant Barclay for a moment, then back at Worf, her face unreadable. Then she, too, left.

Picard looked at the rod on the table. “Mr. Data, Mr. LaForge; I want you to scour whatever is on this rod for any clues as to what might have happened. Mr. Worf is at your disposal for all things that may require his expertise in Klingon protocol. Mr. Barclay, return to your quarters for now. I’m sure Commander Data and Lieutenant LaForge will have questions for you soon.”

Barclay stood. Worf rose alongside and gently placed his hand on Barclay’s shoulder. “That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant,” Picard said to Worf. “I’m sure Mr. Barclay can find the way to his quarters without a security escort.” Barclay managed a grateful smile. Before he left the observation lounge, he turned to the room. “Thank you, everyone.”

Geordi picked up the isolinear rod and raised it to Barclay in a half-salute. “Don’t worry, Reg. We’ve got this.”

The Pawn: Part 2

Captain Jean-Luc Picard stared at the viewscreen, where the Vor’kag, an older (but still formidable) Klingon D7 battle cruiser hung in space like a silent, waiting Talarian hook spider. As he watched, another K’Vort class Bird-of-Prey suddenly decloaked on its port side, joining two others. To his right, Commander William Riker shifted in his chair. “Well, that’s four,” he said. “Getting crowded out here.”

“And that’s just the ships we can see, Number One,” said Picard. “There are likely more out there, cloaked. “

Riker took a steady breath. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Klingons are trying to make us nervous.”

“It’s working,” game the gruff voice of Lieutenant Worf, behind them.

Picard turned to silently regard his Chief of Security. From his position at Tactical, Worf elaborated. “It is clearly a show of force, Captain. The Klingons are informing you that they are in control here; not you.”

Picard turned to look to his left at his ship’s counselor, Deanna Troi. “Thoughts, Counselor?”

Her deep, black eyes gazed back at him. “They’re not happy, Captain; but I sense no imminent threat of attack.”

“That is fortunate,” said Worf. “Against so many Klingon warships, the Enterprise would find victory…difficult.” he said.

Picard stood up and straightened his uniform. “It won’t come to that,” he said. “The Klingons are our allies, Mr. Worf. Open a channel to the Vor’kag.“

“Aye, sir. Channel open.”

The scowling face of a Klingon captain filled the screen. He did not wait for introductions. “Captain Picard,” he said, “the Klingon Empire demands the surrender of the saboteur responsible for the destruction of the Mok’tagh. We await his transport.”

Picard frowned. “Forgive me, Captain. I did not get your name.”

“B’rul,” said the Klingon.

“Captain B’rul,” Picard said, “I am sure you have many questions, as do we all. Rest assured we are taking this very seriously. Please join me on my ship, where we may sit and discuss matters; and hopefully find some answers together.”

“No!” snapped Captain B’rul. “We will interrogate the prisoner ourselves. You may be certain we will find all the answers there are to find. There has been enough delay already. Surrender him to us now, Picard!”

Picard glanced around the bridge and took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils. “I’m sorry, Captain. I am not yet prepared to do that.”

“I did not offer you a choice,” said B’rul.

“No, you did not,” said Picard. “But I am offering you one, now. We would be honored to host you here, aboard the Enterprise; where you may meet with Lieutenant Barclay and ask whatever questions you wish. I give you my word, Captain, that should those answers prove unsatisfactory and should Lieutenant Barclay be guilty of this crime of sabotage; I will not hesitate to act in the best interests of our allies, the Klingon Empire, as I have done in the past.”

B’rul’s eyes narrowed in understanding. Just over a year ago, Picard had been appointed Arbiter of Succession by K’mpec, the previous Klingon chancellor. K’mpec had discovered too late that he had been fatally poisoned by one of his rivals: Gowron or Duras. Once Picard uncovered the treachery of Duras and his role in K’mpec’s assassination, Gowron was installed as new Supreme Chancellor. This was accomplished without a Klingon civil war due in large part to Picard’s efforts, and Gowron would certainly not forget that; nor would he look kindly on anyone who dealt dishonorably with Picard henceforth.

As for the traitor Duras, he was killed by Picard’s own Security Chief, Worf, in a Rite of Vengeance. Briefly, his eyes flicked over Picard’s shoulder to the tactical station. Worf straightened and met his gaze, scowling. Worf’s name was disgraced in the Empire. Like many Klingons, B’rul secretly thought there was much more to the story than was publicly known.

“Very well, Picard,” said B’rul, grudgingly. “Your service to the Empire has earned you this meeting. But I warn you that–“

“Excellent, Captain,” said Picard. “In one hour, then.” He motioned for Worf to cut communications, and Worf complied. “Where is Lieutenant Barclay now?“

“He has been confined to quarters, Captain, as has the rest of the engineering detail,” said Worf. “I believe Commander LaForge is with him.”

Picard nodded and tapped his communicator. “All senior staff report to the observation lounge in one hour. Mr. LaForge, please bring Lieutenant Barclay along. Picard out. Number One, you have the bridge.” Picard turned towards the door to his ready room.

“Sir, if I may–” Worf called. Picard looked at him and nodded. Together they both entered the ready room. Picard seemed about to go to his desk, but abruptly turned. “Well, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, I must remind you that my presence at this meeting will certainly anger the Klingons, and may be seen as–“

“We’ve been over this before, Mr. Worf. Any visitors to this ship will need to interact with my Chief of Security. Even Klingons.”

“But, sir; they will–“

“Mr. Worf,” Picard interrupted. “do you believe Lieutenant Barclay intentionally sabotaged the Mok’tagh?

The absurdity of the question stunned him. Worf reflexively came to attention. “No, sir.”

“Nor do I, Lieutenant,” Picard said; “but what I do believe is that someone wants us to think so; and that Lieutenant Barclay is going to need every friend he has with him in that room in one hour. Including you.”

Though Worf would hardly call Barclay a friend, neither did would he stand by when a fellow officer needed him. Worf nodded. “Understood.”

“Dismissed.”


The Pawn: Prelude

The turbolift doors opened. Lieutenant Reginald Barclay took a few hesitant steps onto the bridge of the Enterprise. No matter how long he served in Starfleet, he never felt at home on the bridge; even when he was summoned. It was like he didn’t belong here, and everyone knew it. He cast a glance around, meeting first the stern gaze of Lieutenant Worf, the ship’s Klingon Chief of Security, who had instinctively turned to verify who was exiting the turbolift. Barclay managed a weak smile (which was not returned) and continued to scan the bridge before he found the reassuring face of his superior, Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge, smiling at him from his position at the Engineering station. LaForge surreptitiously beckoned Barclay over.

On the viewscreen at the fore of the bridge, the enlarged face of K’Vaakh, Captain of the Klingon Bird-of-Prey Mok’tagh, looked past Captain Picard and focused directly on him. The Klingon abruptly stopped conversing with the Captain and did something that would normally make anyone in Starfleet–let alone a person of Barclay’s disposition– uneasy. He laughed.

“There he is, Picard!” growled K’Vaakh through his broad smile. “Hail, Lieutenant Barclay! My chief engineer Gel’rogh has informed me you have increased our warp engine efficiency by 2.9%!” Captain Jean-Luc Picard turned slightly to regard Barclay, a small smile on his lips. “Two-point-nine percent!” K’Vaakh continued, shouting now. “Truly outstanding! The Klingon Empire thanks you for your service, lieutenant!”

Barclay fidgeted uncomfortably. LaForge put his hand on his shoulder, smiling. Picard nodded, indicating he could respond directly to Captain K’Vaakh.

“It…uh…it…was nothing,” Barclay stammered. “Happy to help, Captain…but…uh…it was a team effort.”

“Yes, but it was YOUR team!” exclaimed K’Vaakh, still smiling. “No need for modesty here, Lieutenant; but of course a good commander knows when to share the glory with his soldiers! Know that you and your men have impressed the Empire this day!”

Barclay flushed with embarrassed pride. “Thank you, Captain. But…uh…it was only that…um…once we figured out the plasma flow was slowed at junction 42, it was a small matter to reroute the EPS conduits to temporarily adjust for the slack; then apply the Bergstrom coefficient to compensate for the…”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Barclay,” Picard interjected smoothly. “Captain K’Vaakh, may we be of any further assistance?”

“None, Captain. You have done more than enough. Lieutenant Barclay, when next we meet, my chief engineer owes you a barrel of blood wine!” Barclay managed to keep the disgust from showing on his face. “Glory to you! And your house!” The Klingon broke transmission, and his face was replaced with a view of the Mok’tagh, turning away from the Enterprise, it’s red nacelles powering up in preparation for warp speed.

“I think you’ve made a friend, Mr. Barclay,” said Captain Picard, straightening his uniform with a smile and returning to his seat. “Well done, Lieutenant.”

LaForge squeezed his shoulder. “Good work, Reg,” he said. “I’m off duty in an hour. Meet you in Ten-Forward. I’ll buy, and no worries. It won’t be blood wine.”

Suddenly, the viewscreen flashed as the image of the Mok’tagh suddenly exploded. Klaxons began to blare aboard the Enterprise as Commander Riker bellowed, “Red Alert!”

“Report!” Picard said, leaping from his chair and taking three full steps towards Ops.

Commander Data paused just long enough to confirm the information on the console in front of him. “The Mok’tagh exploded upon activation of it’s warp drive, sir,” said the android, flatly. He turned in his chair, glancing at the stricken face of Lieutenant Barclay before turning to Picard.

“Survivors?” Picard asked, breathlessly.

Data looked at his console and frowned. He turned again to Picard with a slight shake of his head. “No life signs detected, Captain.”

What’s this? What’s this? Why, it’s a new idea I’m gonna try out this year! I have been INSPIRED!!!!

Tale of the Manticore is a podcast that blends together narrative storytelling and the actual-play game mechanics of old-school Dungeons & Dragons. The creator and producer of the show, Jon, spins a tale of Dark Fantasy by playing a solo game of old-school Red Box D&D and leaving the outcome of story events (including the fate of the characters) to the whims of the dice. It’s one of my favorite podcasts because it’s so unpredictable and so well-done. As Jon says, the dice determine all, and no one is safe.

It’s a great idea; and it has inspired me to try something new. As many of you know, I love miniature games, and I love Star Trek. My last foray into Trek gaming back in late 2019-early 2020 was Hubbard’s World, a series of linked scenarios using the Fantastic Worlds rules and featuring the Captain Kirk and the crew of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701.

I’ve been considering a return to Trek; this time in the Next Generation era. The above is the prelude to a story I have in mind; but like Jon’s podcast, the events and progression of the story will be determined by the outcome of gameplay.

The story is called The Pawn, and sometimes (like now), I will post short fiction that moves the narrative forward. Eventually, I’ll have to play a game to determine where the story goes next. Then I will post an After Action Report and continue from there.

I will continue to post lots of other stuff in between, so if The Pawn is not your thing, feel free to skip those posts.

“I step on necks.”

Continuing with my year of pop culture, I decided to finally paint a set of miniatures I’ve had for at least ten years, “Action Dude” by East Riding Miniatures; from their Golgo Island line (which I now think is owned, or at least managed, by Hasslefree).

“Action Dude” is a set of four miniatures who are obviously NOT Chuck Norris. First up is Chuck as Colonel James Braddock, from his “Missing in Action” film franchise. In the first film, Braddock, a Vietnam veteran, returns to Vietnam to free POWs who are still being held captive (kinda like Rambo). In the second film, the timeline flashes back to when Braddock himself was a POW; and shows how he escapes (by killing all the guards, and beating Soon Tek Oh, the commandant, in hand-to-hand combat). The third film, Braddock returns once again to Vietnam; this time to find and rescue his son whom he unknowingly fathered while over there the first time. Here’s the trailer for Missing in Action III, in which Braddock delivers the greatest movie line ever, which is also the title of this post.

Next is Chuck as Colt, from Way of the Dragon (released as Return or the Dragon here in the US). This one doesn’t end well for Action Dude; but then again, he is fighting Bruce Lee, so that’s to be expected. Enjoy this classic fight, and remember to manscape every once in a while, lest someone pull out a fistful of your manly, 1970’s wookie-like chest hair.

Invasion U.S.A. is hands-down one of the shittiest action movies ever to come out of the 80’s, and that is truly an exceptional distinction. Chuck, as Matt Hunter, wears a lot of denim in this movie and carries twin Mac-10 submachineguns in a shoulder rig that he likes so much, he doesn’t bother to take the guns out of it while he kills people with them. The movie features Richard Lynch who really stretches his acting muscles (and injures himself terribly) when he attempts to affect a Russian accent. He’s the leader of an “army” made up of international terrorists and other assorted assholes who would, conceivably, succeed in invading the USA if not for Action Dude himself. Watch the trailer below. It looks like this terrorist army is made up of about 87 guys, against the entire US military. We’re fucked!

Finally, here’s Chuck from arguably his most famous role, “Walker, Texas Ranger”. I never watched Walker regularly, but I’ve seen enough episodes to know that they follow a pretty standard formula, much like the old A-Team or Incredible Hulk TV series. In those, there would usually be two fights per episode, and at least one of them would end up with Mr. T or the Hulk throwing someone in slow-motion over a car or into some collapsible set pieces. Substitute a patented Chuck Norris roundhouse kick for the throw, and you pretty much have the same thing. The best part of Walker, Texas Ranger is that Chuck Norris sang the theme song. If you didn’t know that, you can hear it for yourself below. And you’re welcome.

That’s a heapin’ helpin’ of pop culture for ya this time around; but I’m just getting started! The year is still young.

Arianna Moonshadow, Enchantress

For Fembruary, and also for my Character of the Month, I chose to paint a Sandra Garrity classic from Ral Partha: Arianna Moonshadow, Enchantress.

I decided to paint her as a druid instead, She’s got a belt made out of animal teeth, so why not?

I have had this miniature since she was released (sometime in the early 90’s would be my guess). She been unpainted all this time, so I’m making good on my plan to use Tom’s challenge as an excuse to paint some old-school miniatures. Plus, I love me some Sandra Garrity!

It’s been a hellish month at work and I’ve just kicked off a Lamentations of the Flame Princess campaign; so I haven’t had much time to do very much hobby-wise. But expect a flurry of posts soon as I endeavor to catch up!

Achtung! Barsoom

I can’t resist a huge sale. Modiphius’s US store had a sale at the end of last month; and there were some ri-fucking-diculous deals to be had. Here’s what $70.00 US got me:

The John Carter of Mars RPG Slipcase set: contains both the Core Rulebook and the Phantoms of Mars Campaign Guide: $21.00. Regularly $105.00!

The John Carter of Mars Narrator’s Toolkit and GM Screen: $7.00. Regularly $35.00!

The John Carter of Mars Player’s Guide: $6.00. Regularly $28.00!

In addition, I picked up the Helium Dice Set and the Landscape Location Deck. Usually, I’m not a fan of special dice and/or add-ons like this deck, neither of which you need to play. But, at $4.00 and $5.00 respectively (regularly $17.00 and $21.00), I figured what the hell.

While I was at it, I picked up some Achtung! Cthulhu fiction for $3.00; and EIGHT Deep One metal miniatures for the low, low price of $6.00!!!! (Regularly $14.00 and $28.00!)

That’s a total of $52.00, regularly $238.00! That’s 78% off the total! Makes the $18.00 shipping charge seem pretty worth it, considering I ALSO get the digital PDFs of everything (except the dice and the miniatures, obviously)!

Of course, like most of the games I buy nowadays, I doubt I’ll ever play this. The Achtung! Cthulhu fiction will definitely get read, and I will certainly paint the miniatures; but I don’t have high hopes for playing a John Carter game. Most of my friends aren’t familiar with the characters and setting, and those that are familiar are not particularly interested. Still, I’m a huge Burroughs fan, and, like most Modiphius stuff, these books are simply gorgeous. They are laid out in landscape orientation, and the artwork is some truly stunning stuff.

Time for a visit to Barsoom…even if it’s just to find out what Carrion Crow‘s been up to on his periodic jaunts to Mars. I have a feeling this is going to make me want to dust off my copy of A Princess of Mars…

Quigley Down Under

I have decided that 2022 is going to be the year of pop culture here at Dead Dick’s Tavern. Over time, I have accumulated many miniatures, both officially licensed and not, of characters from film, video games, comics, literature and cartoons. I had a dive through my pile of shame the other night and I pulled a bunch out, and this year I’m making them a priority.

First up: Matthew Quigley from one of my favorite Westerns: Quigley Down Under (1990). For those who haven’t seen it, here’s a quick synopsis sans any major spoilers: Matthew Quigley (Tom Selleck) is an American sharpshooter of some renown, and he is hired by Marston, a British land baron (Alan Rickman, who is simply awesome in this role) for some unspecified shootin’ work on his huge ranch in the Australian Outback. Quigley packs up his Sharps Big Fifty and makes the ocean voyage all the way to Australia only to discover that Marston wants him to hunt and kill Aborigines. This does not sit well with Quigley, and the two men have what’s charitably termed a “falling out.” If you want to know the rest, watch the movie. Or just look it up on Wikipedia.

Tom Selleck is one of those actors I rarely think about; but when I see him in something, especially in a Western, I find I like him a lot. He’s outstanding as Quigley. Alan Rickman plays Marston like a British Hans Gruber, menacing but with a bit of humor. The film also features Laura San Giacomo (also great) and a very young Ben Mendelsohn. It’s really good.

This is Reaper’s “Batt Ridgeley, Sharpshooter”; from their Chronoscope line. I would say the resemblance is a bit uncanny, wouldn’t you?

Perhaps. But it’s Batt Ridgeley. Not Matt Quigley. Ahem. Wink.

Here he is, all painted up by me. I kinda like how he came out.

This miniature has once again kindled my interest in Old West gaming. I have more than enough miniatures and scenery painted and ready to go, so I really have no excuse. Just have to decide on a set of rules.

A nice shot of the Sharps Big Fifty. If you haven’t seen this movie yet, it’s well worth tracking down.

Back soon with something for Fembruary, I think…