Doctor Smith hesitates, but then gives the group five minutes to speak to the injured judge, promising to pull them out of the room by the ears if they linger, combat veterans or not. The room is quite small, but clean and well-lighted. Judge Boyd is in traction, both his legs in plaster up to the waist, one arm and most of the head bandaged. He is hooked to various tubes. That’s what you get when you are a judge: first, many and grievous injuries and, if you survive, the best possible care.
Boyd’s eyes seem a bit out of focus, but he listens to Zed. After Zed finishes his report, the wounded judge is silent for a moment. Then he whispers “This is bad. Stoneleigh. You tell him of this. He will know what to do.” Boyd stops, and the group leaves his bed. Zed uses the phone system of Uptown to contact judge Stoneleigh, a man used to special circumstances and unusual problems. He deals with outsiders, jhats between missions and other human flotsam. Apart from being one of the unofficial links between LAW and many other groups in the Wastes, he is also known to be one of the best informed people in the city. He is on the line after a bit of static. “So why do you call me? Did you fuck up? Don’t tell me you fucked up!” “No, sir, everything is alright with Porter, but something else has turned up.” He repeats his report, and also tells Stoneleigh, that doctor Smith seems to be bent on telling judge Korvanova, the iron lady, about this development. Stoneleigh is less than enthusiastic “Gimme the man”. The doctor takes the receiver and is browbeaten into keeping his mouth shut. A very silent Smith returns the receiver to Zed. Stoneleigh continues “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll take care of matters in Uptown. I know just the people of getting this done. You take those two visitors and try to find this false healer. Up to now, I’m not going to involve Korvanova, she will just do a big fucking sweep, with lots of broken glass and angry downtowners, while our prey goes to ground. That’s counterproductive. We keep this option in reserve, and happily, the good doctor Smith agrees. You report to me, if you find something, you let me know without delay. Any questions!” “No, sir, no questions at all…wait. I would need a weapons permit for the benefactor’s bodyguard. If we identify the intruder, things might get ugly and an additional shooter on site might come in handy.” “We’ll give the guy a permit for a pistol, rifle or shotgun of his choosing, limited to two weeks. I’ll contact judge Paul at the Lock, he will pass you the necessary papers.” And judge Stoneleigh hangs up.
At the Lock, an apologetic judge Paul hands Dan Hawking a weapons permit for a hunting rifle, valid for two weeks, counting from now. After the paperwork is done, the group decides to return to the Terminus for something to eat and sleeping arrangements. The Terminus Diner is crowded, mostly travelers and railers, but also some citizens. The place seems to have passed the last three quarters of a century nearly unchanged: Spacious red plastic seats, white Formica tables, aluminum and neon. There is even a jukebox, blaring the strange music of the Long Ago. But instead of prim waitresses, armed railers, hung with charms and covered by their strange icons, serve the tables, and while burgers and classic pizza are available, they cost a small fortune. The group looks for information about recent developments in the city, and, after some asking, they learn that a new healer has set up shop somewhere in Demeter. He is cheap, quite skilled, and he seems to hold confidentiality in high regard, so you can turn up at his doorstep with a gunshot wound with the judges being none the wiser.
After that, everyone goes to their quarters, Zed in the austere barracks in Uptown, Mal in the cozy confines of his car and Dan in a small hovel on the top floor of the Terminus Diner. Rod, on the other hand, has other plans.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Into Uptown
Rod answers “If we take the first false benefactor as a valid example, the man we are looking for is bound to be highly trained in medicine. He will also be very adept at killing people, and he will carry around many sophisticated tools for doing just that. Silenced pistols, small explosive charges, stun grenades, very sharp knives. But he could manage without these: The one in Levamen killed two men with one kick and one strike. He should be in very good health, at the height of human abilities. But the man we caught was also arrogant, a bit too secure of himself. Maybe that is the reason why we were able to track him down and capture him. The man who saw him in Saint Benedict described him as a young man of medium height, with black hair and blue eyes.”
Zed asks “So what do you think he’s planning to do here?” “I don’t know. I suspect that he is going to keep his cover as a healer. Do you know of any other benefactors working in Memphis” “No.” “You said you have a hospital? Maybe we can find him there.” Zed thinks for a moment. The hospital in Union Quarter is not the only one in Memphis. There is also one in Uptown, where judges wounded in the line of duty recuperate. It offers the best medical care in the wastes. Judge Boyd, his boss, lies there. Rod goes on: “He could do great damage there, he would just have to mislabel or sabotage some saline solutions and you would have scores of dead people on your hands…” Zed interrupts “We’ll have to get you into Uptown right now. You will come with me, and check the hospital there. If he’s made it into Uptown, we have to take him out. If you see him, you show him to me, and we’ll take care of him right away. Mal, get a move on and get us to the Lock.”
A few minutes later, the Conquistador comes to a sudden stop in front of the Lock, the only entrance into Memphis. Floodlights immerse the large gate in a harsh glare, while the walls further away from this space turn red in the light of the evening. The crenellations over the entrance hide machineguns and mortars, and an alert visitor would also spot the surveillance cameras. A long queue of visitors snakes towards the entrance, where a judge decides whether they have business in Uptown or not – and he seems to be very thorough. A dozen soldiers guard the Lock. They carry assault rifles, black Kevlar vests with the letters LAW stenciled on their backs, riot helmets and truncheons, and their belts are full of other implements they might need for keeping the peace in Memphis. On their left upper arm is small transparent pocket, showing their permit to carry all this hardware. Although they look as uniform as any fighting force in the wastes, small details point to their individual histories: Necklaces of teeth and spark plugs, old tattoos, patches telling of their former jhats. This tiny force would be able to take over most settlements in fifteen minutes, and this is just one patrol of dozens.
The group jumps from the car. Zed sprints towards the judge at the gate, a grizzled veteran named Paul, now the gatekeeper of Uptown and thus one of the resident professional paranoids. Zed explains the situation and that these two guys can identify a possible intruder. A short discussion and hasty pat-down later, Rod and Dan are issued red visitor’s papers on necklaces. “Wear them at all times, and never get away from your escort, or you will be identified as a trespasser. And trespassers in Uptown are in a world of hurt.”
Under the envious glances from the queue, the group is ushered through the gate into the glory of Uptown. The streets are wide, paved and well-lit; the buildings seem to conform to a single design, although one notices the presence of scavenged building material here and there. They look quite simple; there is no ornamentation apart from signs pointing to the most important buildings in Uptown, directly stenciled onto the white walls. No building is higher that three floors, but they look as if they could function as redoubts and bunkers in the case of attack. There seem to be gardens on their flat roofs. Zed leads them to a big, C-shaped building with a large red cross on its front. Two haggard men in white lab coats watch the group warily as they approach the entrance. Zed fills them in with a few words, and one of the doctors grabs a guard to accompany them. On the way to judge Boyd’s room, the doctors tell Zed that no new doctor or nurse has entered the hospital’s services in the last three months or so. And they would have noticed a new face. So the hospital seems safe, for now, and the guard returns to his post. But Zed wants to speak to his judge and ask his opinion of the whole affair.
Zed asks “So what do you think he’s planning to do here?” “I don’t know. I suspect that he is going to keep his cover as a healer. Do you know of any other benefactors working in Memphis” “No.” “You said you have a hospital? Maybe we can find him there.” Zed thinks for a moment. The hospital in Union Quarter is not the only one in Memphis. There is also one in Uptown, where judges wounded in the line of duty recuperate. It offers the best medical care in the wastes. Judge Boyd, his boss, lies there. Rod goes on: “He could do great damage there, he would just have to mislabel or sabotage some saline solutions and you would have scores of dead people on your hands…” Zed interrupts “We’ll have to get you into Uptown right now. You will come with me, and check the hospital there. If he’s made it into Uptown, we have to take him out. If you see him, you show him to me, and we’ll take care of him right away. Mal, get a move on and get us to the Lock.”
A few minutes later, the Conquistador comes to a sudden stop in front of the Lock, the only entrance into Memphis. Floodlights immerse the large gate in a harsh glare, while the walls further away from this space turn red in the light of the evening. The crenellations over the entrance hide machineguns and mortars, and an alert visitor would also spot the surveillance cameras. A long queue of visitors snakes towards the entrance, where a judge decides whether they have business in Uptown or not – and he seems to be very thorough. A dozen soldiers guard the Lock. They carry assault rifles, black Kevlar vests with the letters LAW stenciled on their backs, riot helmets and truncheons, and their belts are full of other implements they might need for keeping the peace in Memphis. On their left upper arm is small transparent pocket, showing their permit to carry all this hardware. Although they look as uniform as any fighting force in the wastes, small details point to their individual histories: Necklaces of teeth and spark plugs, old tattoos, patches telling of their former jhats. This tiny force would be able to take over most settlements in fifteen minutes, and this is just one patrol of dozens.
The group jumps from the car. Zed sprints towards the judge at the gate, a grizzled veteran named Paul, now the gatekeeper of Uptown and thus one of the resident professional paranoids. Zed explains the situation and that these two guys can identify a possible intruder. A short discussion and hasty pat-down later, Rod and Dan are issued red visitor’s papers on necklaces. “Wear them at all times, and never get away from your escort, or you will be identified as a trespasser. And trespassers in Uptown are in a world of hurt.”
Under the envious glances from the queue, the group is ushered through the gate into the glory of Uptown. The streets are wide, paved and well-lit; the buildings seem to conform to a single design, although one notices the presence of scavenged building material here and there. They look quite simple; there is no ornamentation apart from signs pointing to the most important buildings in Uptown, directly stenciled onto the white walls. No building is higher that three floors, but they look as if they could function as redoubts and bunkers in the case of attack. There seem to be gardens on their flat roofs. Zed leads them to a big, C-shaped building with a large red cross on its front. Two haggard men in white lab coats watch the group warily as they approach the entrance. Zed fills them in with a few words, and one of the doctors grabs a guard to accompany them. On the way to judge Boyd’s room, the doctors tell Zed that no new doctor or nurse has entered the hospital’s services in the last three months or so. And they would have noticed a new face. So the hospital seems safe, for now, and the guard returns to his post. But Zed wants to speak to his judge and ask his opinion of the whole affair.
Friday, March 26, 2010
The Lowdown
Rod shares a short look with Daniel, but decides to trust Mal. “We’re looking for a man. He’s a false benefactor, and we think that he went here to do whatever he plans to do. He’s quite dangerous. And finding him in this place is going to be very difficult. I didn’t image it would be so huge. We really need to find our bearings before we can even begin to look for him. Any information about his city of yours would be appreciated. I for once thought there would be more judges on the streets.”
Zed begins “This is the Terminus. It belongs to the railer clans, and the judges keep out. I’m not here in any official capacity. Many visitors store their weapons here. To the east, you have Uptown, the real Memphis. It’s fortified, and you won’t get in without a reason, and you will stand in line for two, three hours tops. But you’ll probably have no business there anyway. For that, you’ll want to visit Point Gold, just outside Terminus, and the Union Quarter a bit to the north. There you will find everything you need. All kinds of stores, a good hotel, a hospital, a public bathhouse.” He points at Dan’s rifle “That gun will have to stay here, though. If you don’t wear a permit like Mal here, you can’t bear a firearm. The next patrol will it take off you, or I will. It’s that simple. And you won’t get a permit. It’s the law in all of Memphis. Further north, there’s Demeter. Peons and their families, by and large. The riverbank is mostly rice paddies and fields. To the south, you have the Gears and the Remnants. The Gears contain a lot of industry, dangerous work, and can be a bit rough. But we patrol the area heavily, so if you end up in a scuffle, just cry for help – someone will come shortly. If you are in real trouble, go for the large pyramid, it’s our headquarters in that part of town. In any quarter, just ask for the local bunker. You’ll find a patrol there at all times, they’ll answer your questions and help you. Oh yeah, the refinery is of limits, as are some other places around the city. The motor pool, the airfield and some such. Anyway, the Remnants are the only area of Memphis where you still find buildings and ruins from the Long Ago. It’s a warren, but many people working in the Gears make their home there. Don’t go there alone at night and mind you head – some of the buildings are unsafe.” Rod asks “And even further south?” Zed shoots him a glance and says. “Officially it’s not part of the city. There’s a shantytown called Drifting Susan, travelers and scum which do not want to abide our laws, bit still try to profit from the fruits of civilization. LAW makes frequent sweeps there, but we don’t have a standing presence. Although that’s bound to happen sooner or later. If there’s a problem, you are on your own, and you will find that with the services on offer in Point Gold and Union Quarter there’s no need to deal with the scumbags there.” Rod asks again “So, we’ll keep Dan’s gun in the car. Anything else we should know?” “I don’t think so. Some people are not welcome in Memphis: If you show Deathdealer tats or colors you will be arrested or shot, and we treat Gorgons and Crabs and other cannibals similarly.” He gives the pair a look. “You’re not with these vermin, are you? Didn’t think so. It’s a big city, so there is always a bit of trouble, brawls in the bars and so on. Someone might even pick up a length of pipe to make his point. The patrols break these up quite quickly, and the offenders earn a week on the farm. No harm done. But there’s no shooting in the city, not even down in Drifting Susan. Someone shoots a gun, the patrols take him out. Period. Oh yeah, if you see someone carrying a gun without a permit, or a violent brawl, or a fire, or a theft or a burglary or anything else, you go and tell the next patrol. It’s your duty as a citizen, and as a visitor, too, to report such violations at once, so that LAW can take care of it. After nightfall, there’s electrical light, but only on the main streets. There is no curfew as such, but patrols will question every stranger they encounter after dark, so you should have a really good reason why you are on the street, or they’ll take you to their bunker. And that’s basically all there is to it.”
“So, what about this falsified healer?”
Zed begins “This is the Terminus. It belongs to the railer clans, and the judges keep out. I’m not here in any official capacity. Many visitors store their weapons here. To the east, you have Uptown, the real Memphis. It’s fortified, and you won’t get in without a reason, and you will stand in line for two, three hours tops. But you’ll probably have no business there anyway. For that, you’ll want to visit Point Gold, just outside Terminus, and the Union Quarter a bit to the north. There you will find everything you need. All kinds of stores, a good hotel, a hospital, a public bathhouse.” He points at Dan’s rifle “That gun will have to stay here, though. If you don’t wear a permit like Mal here, you can’t bear a firearm. The next patrol will it take off you, or I will. It’s that simple. And you won’t get a permit. It’s the law in all of Memphis. Further north, there’s Demeter. Peons and their families, by and large. The riverbank is mostly rice paddies and fields. To the south, you have the Gears and the Remnants. The Gears contain a lot of industry, dangerous work, and can be a bit rough. But we patrol the area heavily, so if you end up in a scuffle, just cry for help – someone will come shortly. If you are in real trouble, go for the large pyramid, it’s our headquarters in that part of town. In any quarter, just ask for the local bunker. You’ll find a patrol there at all times, they’ll answer your questions and help you. Oh yeah, the refinery is of limits, as are some other places around the city. The motor pool, the airfield and some such. Anyway, the Remnants are the only area of Memphis where you still find buildings and ruins from the Long Ago. It’s a warren, but many people working in the Gears make their home there. Don’t go there alone at night and mind you head – some of the buildings are unsafe.” Rod asks “And even further south?” Zed shoots him a glance and says. “Officially it’s not part of the city. There’s a shantytown called Drifting Susan, travelers and scum which do not want to abide our laws, bit still try to profit from the fruits of civilization. LAW makes frequent sweeps there, but we don’t have a standing presence. Although that’s bound to happen sooner or later. If there’s a problem, you are on your own, and you will find that with the services on offer in Point Gold and Union Quarter there’s no need to deal with the scumbags there.” Rod asks again “So, we’ll keep Dan’s gun in the car. Anything else we should know?” “I don’t think so. Some people are not welcome in Memphis: If you show Deathdealer tats or colors you will be arrested or shot, and we treat Gorgons and Crabs and other cannibals similarly.” He gives the pair a look. “You’re not with these vermin, are you? Didn’t think so. It’s a big city, so there is always a bit of trouble, brawls in the bars and so on. Someone might even pick up a length of pipe to make his point. The patrols break these up quite quickly, and the offenders earn a week on the farm. No harm done. But there’s no shooting in the city, not even down in Drifting Susan. Someone shoots a gun, the patrols take him out. Period. Oh yeah, if you see someone carrying a gun without a permit, or a violent brawl, or a fire, or a theft or a burglary or anything else, you go and tell the next patrol. It’s your duty as a citizen, and as a visitor, too, to report such violations at once, so that LAW can take care of it. After nightfall, there’s electrical light, but only on the main streets. There is no curfew as such, but patrols will question every stranger they encounter after dark, so you should have a really good reason why you are on the street, or they’ll take you to their bunker. And that’s basically all there is to it.”
“So, what about this falsified healer?”
Arrival in the Terminus
The Memphis Terminus is the largest railway station after Santeria. Three or four grand coeurs and dozens of wagons crowd the large hall, as Benefactor Rod and Dan Hawking step off the train. The Terminus is full of people, most of them railers, but there are also many travelers and merchants – but one sees no judges, nor their soldiers. Some of the railers seem to guard the station’s peace, with shotguns and stutters at the ready. The hall echoes with voices, the clanking of machines and the low hum of electricity. Shacks and cabins have been built at walls and on the platforms, serving as workshops, bars, vendors’ stalls and bolt holes. Railer signs and vevers cover every surface. The air is filed with the smell of diesel, food, and many, many people. A large ancient station clock dominates the exit platform, its hands showing six in the evening, where a lit neon sign advertises the Terminus Diner. At a time where most settlements prepare for the long dark night, Memphis just seems to get going. As soon as the strangers put their feet on the ground, they are assaulted by street urchins, fixers and hustlers of all kind, hawking trinkets, badly forged passage papers, refreshments of dubious provenance and other services.
Mal Porter and Zed are standing close to the clock, and watch the arrival of the train – always a source of good entertainment. It is Mal who spots the benefactor, and he remembers another member of that fraternity: Simon, now long gone, possibly to Santeria, possibly even further south. A great healer and a deadly shot. And the benefactors are always on a mission; maybe it is time to form a new posse. He ploughs toward the beleaguered pair, Zed in tow. The urchins recognize the heavy step of the law and, with one hardy exception, dart away. Mal introduces himself to the new benefactor; Rod is quite happy to see someone who knows about the benefactors and is not trying to sell him something. The two others eye each other warily. Finally, to get rid of the remaining street vendor, Mal suggests to use his vehicle for a small get-together. It is parked at the border of the Memphis Terminus – a small nod towards Mal from the railers.
The Nissan Conquistador
Mal is the proud owner of a Nissan Conquistador off-road capable pick-up. This car is a behemoth which was mainly sold to victims of severe mid-life crisis during the years just before the Fall – there are still some barely discernible billboards around, showing the Conquistador in all its massive glory over the slogan “Conquer”. It has seen use for many years after Fall, and most of its components have been replaced several times. The chassis is a patchwork of welds, pointing to dozens of repairs. What remains is the powerful silhouette of the original pick-up, still visible under the newly installed armor plating. The windows are protected with metal strips, and one of the car’s owners deigned to cut hatches into the roof of the car to serve as gunner’s positions. It looks heavy and rugged, but possibly uses ridiculous amounts of diesel with all that steel plated to the sides.
Even though the interior is full of gear, it seats five persons easily. Useful tools hang in reach of the driver. Canisters and additional fuel tanks hint at the special disease of the current owner: the scout’s irrational fear of being stranded in the middle of nowhere without petrol. Some spent brass casings litter the floor.
After the group enters the car, Mal pulls out four bent metal cups and fills them with water. Offering the drink, he asks Rod what brings him to Memphis.
Mal Porter and Zed are standing close to the clock, and watch the arrival of the train – always a source of good entertainment. It is Mal who spots the benefactor, and he remembers another member of that fraternity: Simon, now long gone, possibly to Santeria, possibly even further south. A great healer and a deadly shot. And the benefactors are always on a mission; maybe it is time to form a new posse. He ploughs toward the beleaguered pair, Zed in tow. The urchins recognize the heavy step of the law and, with one hardy exception, dart away. Mal introduces himself to the new benefactor; Rod is quite happy to see someone who knows about the benefactors and is not trying to sell him something. The two others eye each other warily. Finally, to get rid of the remaining street vendor, Mal suggests to use his vehicle for a small get-together. It is parked at the border of the Memphis Terminus – a small nod towards Mal from the railers.
The Nissan Conquistador
Mal is the proud owner of a Nissan Conquistador off-road capable pick-up. This car is a behemoth which was mainly sold to victims of severe mid-life crisis during the years just before the Fall – there are still some barely discernible billboards around, showing the Conquistador in all its massive glory over the slogan “Conquer”. It has seen use for many years after Fall, and most of its components have been replaced several times. The chassis is a patchwork of welds, pointing to dozens of repairs. What remains is the powerful silhouette of the original pick-up, still visible under the newly installed armor plating. The windows are protected with metal strips, and one of the car’s owners deigned to cut hatches into the roof of the car to serve as gunner’s positions. It looks heavy and rugged, but possibly uses ridiculous amounts of diesel with all that steel plated to the sides.
Even though the interior is full of gear, it seats five persons easily. Useful tools hang in reach of the driver. Canisters and additional fuel tanks hint at the special disease of the current owner: the scout’s irrational fear of being stranded in the middle of nowhere without petrol. Some spent brass casings litter the floor.
After the group enters the car, Mal pulls out four bent metal cups and fills them with water. Offering the drink, he asks Rod what brings him to Memphis.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Dramatis Personae
It's time to return to scorched earth. After some real-life developments, and a short campaign not featured here, we're back in the beautiful, if somewhat wild, Wastes. The old characters are still alive, and Mal Porter returns as an active character, who, after selling the secrets of Wellspring Airbase to the judges, sits in Memphis, itching for some action. Rod and Dan are characters from the short campaign we played in-between, and which is sketched out in Rod's description. Zed is a completely new character.
Benefactor Rod
Rod is a man on a mission. A few weeks ago, people were murdered in the villages belonging to the Institute, the HQ of the benefactors. A very dangerous man was masquerading as one of the healers, and when the villagers saw through his scam, he killed two men with his bare hands and vanished south. Rod and a group of close friends were sent out to capture this man and bring him back to the Institute for questioning and justice. And capture him they did, although it was the fight of a lifetime. A lot of strange and highly advanced gear fell into their hands that day, among it a GPS-box that told them that the false benefactors had planned to visit Saint Benedict and an old correctional facility on the northern edge of the Appalachians. They brought the false benefactor back, being welcomed as heroes. The celebrations were not to last, and the next morning saw Levamen and the Institute in uproar and panic. The captive had somehow poisoned most of the Elders, and although he died in the act, the killer left the benefactors leaderless. Never one to sit out a crisis, Rod instantly gathered his band of misfits to go to Saint Benedict, and, if needs be, down south to the old jail. If the benefactors were to survive this, someone had to find out the goals of this man and the men behind him. So he and his friend set out again, before someone could accuse them for bringing death into the hallowed halls of the Institute. In Saint Benedict, their inquiries confirmed their assumption: This false healer was not alone; others of his kind had come through the small community. Rod had to make a very shady deal indeed to find out more: But needs must, and now he knows that one false healer went to Memphis, a second went towards the Appalachians while the third traveled to the empty, howling waste south of Point Transit. Memphis, crown on the Mississippi, home to tens of thousand of people, headquarters of LAW: the harm a man like this false benefactor could do in this place is unimaginable. Rod sent two of his friend back home to warn the benefactors of these new developments, while he and his trusted friend Dan Hawking traveled to Memphis.
Benefactor Rod is still a young man, although very learned for his age. He was a ginger kid, and still his red hair is the first thing you would notice from twenty paces. He has bright, quick blue eyes, light skin with some freckles and has rather short hair. He proudly wears the traveling coat of the benefactors, beige with two red crosses on the shoulders, and a large traveling bag. He seems to be unarmed, apart from a long aluminum walking pole. He wears a silver cross around his neck.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Benefactor Rod will be played by a very young Guy Pearce with red hair.
Dan Hawking
Dan has been with Rod and his clique of misfits and outsiders since he can remember. He was what some would call a “disturbed” kid, distrustful, silent, subject to mood swings and sudden fears. But he was also very quick, and showed a knack for technical equipment. While not of the right mindset to become a benefactor, the Elders kept him around, partly because he was good at repairs, partly because they wanted to keep an eye on him. During Rod’s education, it was Dan who kept the contact between him and his other friends in the villages. This all changed when someone put a rifle in Dan’s hands, just for fun. The quirky, silent kid is a natural, a scarily good shot. Without any training, he put some of Levamen’s best shooters to shame. The elders where alarmed: This was not someone they wanted running around with a gun instead of a soldering iron. Before a decision could be made, the false benefactor turned up and Dan found himself in an unlikely posse and was confronted with some things that strained his fragile hold on sanity. But he grew from the experience, and, secretly, he is very proud that Rod chose him over Trev Talker and Drinkin’ Ashby. He also got to keep most of the gadgets the false benefactor had on him…
Dan is small and slight, but very wiry. Like Rod, he appears to be rather young, maybe just twenty. His unruly brown hair falls close to his shoulders. He seems nice enough, but many people are put off by his restlessness: Every glance is loaded with distrust and suspicion, his back is always to a wall and being in his presence just makes your skin itch. He wears sturdy traveling clothes made by the women in Levamen: They know how to turn dogleathers into clothing that will outlast its wearer. Dan is festooned with small leather bags and ammo pouches: Tools, ammo, useful knickknacks, everything finds a place. A common, but well-oiled hunting rifle hangs over his shoulder when he steps into Memphis Terminus, if he carries other weapons they are hidden amongst all those pockets, pouches and belt bags. He could probably also use his big iron belt buckle to severely beat you. Like Rod, he wears a crucifix on his neck.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Dan Hawking will be played by Nick Stahl.
Mal Porter
When we last met with this intrepid scavenger, he was sweating in his Nissan Conquistador. Spent shells rattled around under the seats, and while he was in the safety of Point Transit’s walls, he was not at peace. He was with a group of explorers and sand pirates, just come home from a fruitful expedition into the Great White, and more recent, an attack on the Black Flag Mercenary Company. He was not the target, but one of his partners was, and so they ambushed the Black Flag. But the mercenaries were not alone, shepherding some timber merchants down the Corridor: A clean hit on the Black Flag degenerated into what unkind minds could think to be a low raid on traders. And now, a new judge seems to be in Point Transit. Judge Xeno, comfortably corrupt, a man who would listen to any of your arguments with open ears, is gone, replaced by a woman who wants to prove that LAW is to be reckoned with in the West. And soon, the survivors of the Black Flag will roll into town, bent on the righteous infliction of retribution and still on their original job of hunting down that uppity trader leading the group.
Better to be invisible just now. Better to split and to meld into the desert. The group drew straws. The lucky winner would go to Memphis, make a deal with the judges over the find under the Wellspring Airbase and leave three quarters of the proceeds at Grim Hejduk’s Collaterals and Securities, the Desert Heart’s most reputable bondsman, to be paid out to the others in the future. Mal left Point Transit just as the Black Flag moved in. He does not know if the others were able to get out in time, but he dodged the Black Flag and went to Memphis to broker a deal on behalf of his partners. Even if the others are dead, it is the right thing to do. And if they live, they would find him if he ran with the winnings – the desert is just not big enough to keep out of sight for ever.
The judges in Memphis where very interested in what Mal had to offer, and they were quite happy to part with a large lump of merits for the group’s efforts and sacrifices. Although this was possibly the most in-depth debriefing Mal ever experienced, luckily, the little episode with the Black Flag did not turn up. After the pay-out, Mal went shopping, and he has been shopping ever since, guarded by a facilitator and guide named Zed.
By now, along with his RHINO vest, Mal wears a hand-tailored protective suit. Once, this was an environmental protection suit, possibly employed by FEMA or some large corporation in chemical spills and hot zones. A gasmask dangles from the neck, and a hood can be pulled over the head at moment’s notice. Mal had the thing upgraded with Kevlar and titanium plates, creating a unique set of personal armor just made for exploring the poisoned necropolises of the wastes. When the staring got too much, he bought a grey cloak to hide all this impressive hardware, but he still gets curious and envious looks. All kinds of equipment dangle from the suit, most noticeably the two compact Ingram submachine guns under Mal’s armpits. A white card hangs from his neck, allowing him to carry this sort of firepower in Memphis. Mal himself seems to be on the wrong side of thirty, with brown, longish hair, tanned skin and dark eyes hidden behind old motorcycle goggles. He talks most of the time.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Mal Porter will be played by a Mel Gibson circa 1983.
Zed
It’s a week since Judge Boyd crashed. In hot pursuit, he flipped his armored Camaro eight times. When the men of his jhat pulled him from the wreckage, his legs were broken in many places and his left arm was on fire. He is in Uptown’s hospital now, encased in plaster and healing up, but a full recovery will take months. Judge Stoneleigh has taken the duty upon him to keep Boyd’s men busy. He ordered Zed, a close combat specialist, ambitious and very by-the-book, a true believer in LAW’s mission and role, to play guide for an explorer who just made a huge deal with Memphis concerning some wondrous piece of technology. “Show him around, open a few doors for him. Make him feel that we appreciate his efforts and that further exploits will be rewarded as well. If he wants to buy armor for his car or himself, that’s okay by me. He buys some fancy handgun under the table, fine. But no rifles, and ammo only from the sanctioned place, and no explosives at all, you understand.” Zed stands at attention “Good boy.” Zed has been taking care of Mal Porter for a week now and watched him spend a small fortune on gear and armor.
Zed is slightly built and not among the biggest men, but his muscles speak of a tough training regimen. His face is stern and powerful, and although he is not yet thirty he seems to seen some harrowing things. He has shaved his head: No sparring partner is going to drag him around by his hair. He wears a faded black coat over an ancient Kevlar vest, leather trousers and heavy boots. The clothing is of good quality, and along with his no-nonsense behaviour, fast step and firm voice, many people in Memphis sense that he is with the judges, even if he is not advertising the fact. Some small bags hang from his belt, but one sees no guns: In the safety of Memphis, he seems to go without weapons. But when he feels unobserved, he flexes his hands just so and one gets the feeling that he does not need no guns to take you down. In the week with Mal, he has not laughed or smiled once.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Zed will be played by Clint Eastwood circa 1968, with a shaved head.
Benefactor Rod
Rod is a man on a mission. A few weeks ago, people were murdered in the villages belonging to the Institute, the HQ of the benefactors. A very dangerous man was masquerading as one of the healers, and when the villagers saw through his scam, he killed two men with his bare hands and vanished south. Rod and a group of close friends were sent out to capture this man and bring him back to the Institute for questioning and justice. And capture him they did, although it was the fight of a lifetime. A lot of strange and highly advanced gear fell into their hands that day, among it a GPS-box that told them that the false benefactors had planned to visit Saint Benedict and an old correctional facility on the northern edge of the Appalachians. They brought the false benefactor back, being welcomed as heroes. The celebrations were not to last, and the next morning saw Levamen and the Institute in uproar and panic. The captive had somehow poisoned most of the Elders, and although he died in the act, the killer left the benefactors leaderless. Never one to sit out a crisis, Rod instantly gathered his band of misfits to go to Saint Benedict, and, if needs be, down south to the old jail. If the benefactors were to survive this, someone had to find out the goals of this man and the men behind him. So he and his friend set out again, before someone could accuse them for bringing death into the hallowed halls of the Institute. In Saint Benedict, their inquiries confirmed their assumption: This false healer was not alone; others of his kind had come through the small community. Rod had to make a very shady deal indeed to find out more: But needs must, and now he knows that one false healer went to Memphis, a second went towards the Appalachians while the third traveled to the empty, howling waste south of Point Transit. Memphis, crown on the Mississippi, home to tens of thousand of people, headquarters of LAW: the harm a man like this false benefactor could do in this place is unimaginable. Rod sent two of his friend back home to warn the benefactors of these new developments, while he and his trusted friend Dan Hawking traveled to Memphis.
Benefactor Rod is still a young man, although very learned for his age. He was a ginger kid, and still his red hair is the first thing you would notice from twenty paces. He has bright, quick blue eyes, light skin with some freckles and has rather short hair. He proudly wears the traveling coat of the benefactors, beige with two red crosses on the shoulders, and a large traveling bag. He seems to be unarmed, apart from a long aluminum walking pole. He wears a silver cross around his neck.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Benefactor Rod will be played by a very young Guy Pearce with red hair.
Dan Hawking
Dan has been with Rod and his clique of misfits and outsiders since he can remember. He was what some would call a “disturbed” kid, distrustful, silent, subject to mood swings and sudden fears. But he was also very quick, and showed a knack for technical equipment. While not of the right mindset to become a benefactor, the Elders kept him around, partly because he was good at repairs, partly because they wanted to keep an eye on him. During Rod’s education, it was Dan who kept the contact between him and his other friends in the villages. This all changed when someone put a rifle in Dan’s hands, just for fun. The quirky, silent kid is a natural, a scarily good shot. Without any training, he put some of Levamen’s best shooters to shame. The elders where alarmed: This was not someone they wanted running around with a gun instead of a soldering iron. Before a decision could be made, the false benefactor turned up and Dan found himself in an unlikely posse and was confronted with some things that strained his fragile hold on sanity. But he grew from the experience, and, secretly, he is very proud that Rod chose him over Trev Talker and Drinkin’ Ashby. He also got to keep most of the gadgets the false benefactor had on him…
Dan is small and slight, but very wiry. Like Rod, he appears to be rather young, maybe just twenty. His unruly brown hair falls close to his shoulders. He seems nice enough, but many people are put off by his restlessness: Every glance is loaded with distrust and suspicion, his back is always to a wall and being in his presence just makes your skin itch. He wears sturdy traveling clothes made by the women in Levamen: They know how to turn dogleathers into clothing that will outlast its wearer. Dan is festooned with small leather bags and ammo pouches: Tools, ammo, useful knickknacks, everything finds a place. A common, but well-oiled hunting rifle hangs over his shoulder when he steps into Memphis Terminus, if he carries other weapons they are hidden amongst all those pockets, pouches and belt bags. He could probably also use his big iron belt buckle to severely beat you. Like Rod, he wears a crucifix on his neck.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Dan Hawking will be played by Nick Stahl.
Mal Porter
When we last met with this intrepid scavenger, he was sweating in his Nissan Conquistador. Spent shells rattled around under the seats, and while he was in the safety of Point Transit’s walls, he was not at peace. He was with a group of explorers and sand pirates, just come home from a fruitful expedition into the Great White, and more recent, an attack on the Black Flag Mercenary Company. He was not the target, but one of his partners was, and so they ambushed the Black Flag. But the mercenaries were not alone, shepherding some timber merchants down the Corridor: A clean hit on the Black Flag degenerated into what unkind minds could think to be a low raid on traders. And now, a new judge seems to be in Point Transit. Judge Xeno, comfortably corrupt, a man who would listen to any of your arguments with open ears, is gone, replaced by a woman who wants to prove that LAW is to be reckoned with in the West. And soon, the survivors of the Black Flag will roll into town, bent on the righteous infliction of retribution and still on their original job of hunting down that uppity trader leading the group.
Better to be invisible just now. Better to split and to meld into the desert. The group drew straws. The lucky winner would go to Memphis, make a deal with the judges over the find under the Wellspring Airbase and leave three quarters of the proceeds at Grim Hejduk’s Collaterals and Securities, the Desert Heart’s most reputable bondsman, to be paid out to the others in the future. Mal left Point Transit just as the Black Flag moved in. He does not know if the others were able to get out in time, but he dodged the Black Flag and went to Memphis to broker a deal on behalf of his partners. Even if the others are dead, it is the right thing to do. And if they live, they would find him if he ran with the winnings – the desert is just not big enough to keep out of sight for ever.
The judges in Memphis where very interested in what Mal had to offer, and they were quite happy to part with a large lump of merits for the group’s efforts and sacrifices. Although this was possibly the most in-depth debriefing Mal ever experienced, luckily, the little episode with the Black Flag did not turn up. After the pay-out, Mal went shopping, and he has been shopping ever since, guarded by a facilitator and guide named Zed.
By now, along with his RHINO vest, Mal wears a hand-tailored protective suit. Once, this was an environmental protection suit, possibly employed by FEMA or some large corporation in chemical spills and hot zones. A gasmask dangles from the neck, and a hood can be pulled over the head at moment’s notice. Mal had the thing upgraded with Kevlar and titanium plates, creating a unique set of personal armor just made for exploring the poisoned necropolises of the wastes. When the staring got too much, he bought a grey cloak to hide all this impressive hardware, but he still gets curious and envious looks. All kinds of equipment dangle from the suit, most noticeably the two compact Ingram submachine guns under Mal’s armpits. A white card hangs from his neck, allowing him to carry this sort of firepower in Memphis. Mal himself seems to be on the wrong side of thirty, with brown, longish hair, tanned skin and dark eyes hidden behind old motorcycle goggles. He talks most of the time.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Mal Porter will be played by a Mel Gibson circa 1983.
Zed
It’s a week since Judge Boyd crashed. In hot pursuit, he flipped his armored Camaro eight times. When the men of his jhat pulled him from the wreckage, his legs were broken in many places and his left arm was on fire. He is in Uptown’s hospital now, encased in plaster and healing up, but a full recovery will take months. Judge Stoneleigh has taken the duty upon him to keep Boyd’s men busy. He ordered Zed, a close combat specialist, ambitious and very by-the-book, a true believer in LAW’s mission and role, to play guide for an explorer who just made a huge deal with Memphis concerning some wondrous piece of technology. “Show him around, open a few doors for him. Make him feel that we appreciate his efforts and that further exploits will be rewarded as well. If he wants to buy armor for his car or himself, that’s okay by me. He buys some fancy handgun under the table, fine. But no rifles, and ammo only from the sanctioned place, and no explosives at all, you understand.” Zed stands at attention “Good boy.” Zed has been taking care of Mal Porter for a week now and watched him spend a small fortune on gear and armor.
Zed is slightly built and not among the biggest men, but his muscles speak of a tough training regimen. His face is stern and powerful, and although he is not yet thirty he seems to seen some harrowing things. He has shaved his head: No sparring partner is going to drag him around by his hair. He wears a faded black coat over an ancient Kevlar vest, leather trousers and heavy boots. The clothing is of good quality, and along with his no-nonsense behaviour, fast step and firm voice, many people in Memphis sense that he is with the judges, even if he is not advertising the fact. Some small bags hang from his belt, but one sees no guns: In the safety of Memphis, he seems to go without weapons. But when he feels unobserved, he flexes his hands just so and one gets the feeling that he does not need no guns to take you down. In the week with Mal, he has not laughed or smiled once.
In the unavoidable Hollywood tie-in, Zed will be played by Clint Eastwood circa 1968, with a shaved head.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Bioshock 2
Yahtzee tore this game a new asshole, and I can't figure why. After reading the first reviews I expected a rerun, basically an expansion pack, and I would have been fine with that. Yes, my standards are appallingly low, but then Bioshock is a game that I replay about once a year - not to fret, I can do the thing on a short weekend now. Yes, I like it that much and I think it is one of the all-time greats.
Bioshock 2 plays a decade after your exploits as Fontaine's sockpuppet-assassin. Now you are playing as a big daddy, a big daddy who can use plasmids and has some sense of self-preservation. You have to find your little sister in a dilapidated Rapture. It's the same city, but different: The years have taken their toll, corals have bloomed in the courts and ballrooms, the ocean has taken over big time. Sometimes, you walk through completely flooded sections of Rapture, surrounded by silence. At first it seems that after slamming objectivism, this game is about the sins of collectivism: A psychoanalyst named Lamb has created a cult which swore off the sins of Ryan's utopia, made a u-turn and ran about 20 miles too far into the opposite direction. For this cult, the "Family", you are a dangerous remnant, a monster. Your moral compass will be sorely tested. You are, again, able to decide whether to save or harvest the little sisters for a short term gain in power. But at times you will also meet "semibosses", for want of a better name, and it's in your hand to kill them, or to leave them be. While there are some game effects based on your decision, they are generally removed from the cost-benefit analysis of the shooter, leaving you with your role in the tale. Everyone calls you a monster: Do you act like one? How do you treat those who would use you like a tool? Do you take revenge, if opportunity permits? There's at least one figure that keeps score. I never had the feeling of just re-playing the first game, but being immersed in a story that took up some elements of the first game's treatment of personal ambition and utopia gone wrong and presented a different angle on these things - Lamb's megalomania, couched in high-minded worry about the human race and painting every new atrocity as a necessary act of love, a broken Ryan being defeated by someone using his principles against him, and the splicers, the saddest monsters I've ever encountered as a gamer.
The mechanics of the game have kept the best parts of the first, streamlined a few bits that could use some streamlining, like the plumber's hack minigame. Some stuff is new, but it never distracts from the ambiance of Rapture. Some of the voice-acting is a bit over the top, but at least Lamb's voice acting hits the nail on the head - you've heard this voice before, from the mouths of psychology-majors, self-important lecturers and other callous pricks the world over: Lamb just knows she is right, she feels your pain and she just wants the best for everyone and if you suffer, she will feel really bad about it - probably even worse than you. See, she is even better at suffering than you are.
I do not think that this game degrades the experience of the first Bioshock. I'm sure I will return to this game like I did to it's predecessor - maybe once a year, for half a weekend.
Bioshock 2 plays a decade after your exploits as Fontaine's sockpuppet-assassin. Now you are playing as a big daddy, a big daddy who can use plasmids and has some sense of self-preservation. You have to find your little sister in a dilapidated Rapture. It's the same city, but different: The years have taken their toll, corals have bloomed in the courts and ballrooms, the ocean has taken over big time. Sometimes, you walk through completely flooded sections of Rapture, surrounded by silence. At first it seems that after slamming objectivism, this game is about the sins of collectivism: A psychoanalyst named Lamb has created a cult which swore off the sins of Ryan's utopia, made a u-turn and ran about 20 miles too far into the opposite direction. For this cult, the "Family", you are a dangerous remnant, a monster. Your moral compass will be sorely tested. You are, again, able to decide whether to save or harvest the little sisters for a short term gain in power. But at times you will also meet "semibosses", for want of a better name, and it's in your hand to kill them, or to leave them be. While there are some game effects based on your decision, they are generally removed from the cost-benefit analysis of the shooter, leaving you with your role in the tale. Everyone calls you a monster: Do you act like one? How do you treat those who would use you like a tool? Do you take revenge, if opportunity permits? There's at least one figure that keeps score. I never had the feeling of just re-playing the first game, but being immersed in a story that took up some elements of the first game's treatment of personal ambition and utopia gone wrong and presented a different angle on these things - Lamb's megalomania, couched in high-minded worry about the human race and painting every new atrocity as a necessary act of love, a broken Ryan being defeated by someone using his principles against him, and the splicers, the saddest monsters I've ever encountered as a gamer.
The mechanics of the game have kept the best parts of the first, streamlined a few bits that could use some streamlining, like the plumber's hack minigame. Some stuff is new, but it never distracts from the ambiance of Rapture. Some of the voice-acting is a bit over the top, but at least Lamb's voice acting hits the nail on the head - you've heard this voice before, from the mouths of psychology-majors, self-important lecturers and other callous pricks the world over: Lamb just knows she is right, she feels your pain and she just wants the best for everyone and if you suffer, she will feel really bad about it - probably even worse than you. See, she is even better at suffering than you are.
I do not think that this game degrades the experience of the first Bioshock. I'm sure I will return to this game like I did to it's predecessor - maybe once a year, for half a weekend.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Intacto (2001)
After two blockbusters, I want to talk about a quite unknown movie for a change. The movie is Intacto from Spain, and about a decade old. It is, while disguising itself as a thriller, basically a vampire movie, and it showcases how to scare an audience with the concept of the supernatural parasite. Classic vampires have changed from monsters to pure objects of desire, and there is not much the audience does not know about them. They drink blood, sunlight turns them into a five-minute household chore, they have great reflexes and are ripped as fuck. They are also conflicted about having those reflexes and a six-pack that will last them a few centuries. No wonder the girls like them. Some variables may differ, but that is your normal vampire, as experienced by the movie-going public. He might be good for a few jump scares, but then a cat in a refrigerator is. He has stopped from being uncanny or scary by himself.
The vampires of Intacto are different: They seem to be normal people in all respects, but they drain the luck of their victims, just by touching them, if they want to or not. There is one scene in the movie which especially creeps me out: One of the vampires is led to a group of victims and touches them in turn. They are rundown and obviously unhappy and seem to have gone through the procedure before: Quite the contrast to the come-hither eyed blood dolls common in vampire movies. Apart from the vampire grabbing them for a few seconds, nothing else happens. The victims get a few bills and are sent away. But it is far more terrifying than a conventional vampire sucking at the neck of a nubile girl: It is implied that these people will never catch a break again, or have a good turn, or be at the right place at the right time.
This is not only terrifying because, by now, every student of (popular) culture has come across the various readings of the vampire as symbol of sexuality, of reverse colonization, of social isolation, and so forth. We also understand blood very well. When Stoker wrote Dracula in 1895, the theory of blood groups was not yet invented. Blood was not "just" blood - it was your life force. Today, it's just the red juice that runs out of you when you cross traffic with your eyes closed.
But the vampires in Intacto drain your luck. No-one really understands luck, you just "know" it exists, that your life might have turned out very differently if you hadn't been lucky at some points. And that luck is beyond your control, ineffable, and yet in some ways critical to your happiness. And these creatures take it away! The disheveled victims in Intacto are worse off than any of Dracula's prey. Apart from that, the vampires in this movie are just like normal humans - but very, very lucky. The movie features some scenes where they test their preternatural luck, and these are more uncanny than every vampire flick, where a bloodsucker is "fast" or "strong" - because by now we know that a vampire is supposed to be that way. Intacto shows us real vampires: predators that take away the one thing that you do not understand but which you cannot afford to lose.
The vampires of Intacto are different: They seem to be normal people in all respects, but they drain the luck of their victims, just by touching them, if they want to or not. There is one scene in the movie which especially creeps me out: One of the vampires is led to a group of victims and touches them in turn. They are rundown and obviously unhappy and seem to have gone through the procedure before: Quite the contrast to the come-hither eyed blood dolls common in vampire movies. Apart from the vampire grabbing them for a few seconds, nothing else happens. The victims get a few bills and are sent away. But it is far more terrifying than a conventional vampire sucking at the neck of a nubile girl: It is implied that these people will never catch a break again, or have a good turn, or be at the right place at the right time.
This is not only terrifying because, by now, every student of (popular) culture has come across the various readings of the vampire as symbol of sexuality, of reverse colonization, of social isolation, and so forth. We also understand blood very well. When Stoker wrote Dracula in 1895, the theory of blood groups was not yet invented. Blood was not "just" blood - it was your life force. Today, it's just the red juice that runs out of you when you cross traffic with your eyes closed.
But the vampires in Intacto drain your luck. No-one really understands luck, you just "know" it exists, that your life might have turned out very differently if you hadn't been lucky at some points. And that luck is beyond your control, ineffable, and yet in some ways critical to your happiness. And these creatures take it away! The disheveled victims in Intacto are worse off than any of Dracula's prey. Apart from that, the vampires in this movie are just like normal humans - but very, very lucky. The movie features some scenes where they test their preternatural luck, and these are more uncanny than every vampire flick, where a bloodsucker is "fast" or "strong" - because by now we know that a vampire is supposed to be that way. Intacto shows us real vampires: predators that take away the one thing that you do not understand but which you cannot afford to lose.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
So you want to see a dragon
Go see Alice in Wonderland. The only review that does it justice is here. I didn't like Avatar too much, it's a flat, predictable movie, a lot of sound and fury. And slowly the consensus comes around to my view. Alice in Wonderland is like Avatar in many respects: Good will triumph over Evil, the girl will man up in the end and the Big Bad will get just deserts. But it makes absolutely no bones about being a fairytale, while Avatar tried to be a gnarly war-is-hell-we-should-treat-our-Mother-right movie and left me playing trope-bingo for two hours. Alice herself is a much more lovable protagonist than the soldier-turned-blue: A bit of politeness can go a long way. Wonderland is at least as awesome to behold as Pandora, and while Cameron's creature design had to keep some standards of biological feasibility, Burton could just run wild. And thus you get a Cheshire cat that is...well, you best see for yourself. The 3D is a bit obtrusive in some places, but people really seem to learn how to employ the medium.
And the Jabberwocky is the best dragon in ages.
And the Jabberwocky is the best dragon in ages.
Monday, March 1, 2010
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