The Red Brotherhood: A Brotherhood of Steel faction for the Fallout Roleplaying Game.

 

   

(A quick note: This was a bit of a doodle brought about by a post on twitter about creating a communist/anti-fascist splinter group of the Brotherhood of Steel for the excellent Fallout: The Roleplaying Game from Modiphius Entertainment. This faction was created as a lark and is presented for free. No infringement of copyright or trademark is intended in any way, and if asked I will pull the piece immediately. I did this purely for fun. So without further ado, let's begin!)

The Red Brotherhood: A Brotherhood of Steel faction for the Fallout Roleplaying Game.

A Tale of Rebirth:

    Many in the Commonwealth have heard the story of Arthur Maxson's rise to power in the Brotherhood of Steel: his upbringing in the Capital Wasteland, coming of age in the fractious period under the leadership of Elder Owen Lyons, and Arthur's ascension to the role of Elder in the wake of Owen's death and the death of his Daughter Sarah. The tale has Arthur bringing the order together under his sterling leadership, saving the Brotherhood from destruction at the hands of incompetent leadership. It's a good story, and it wins a great many potential initiates applying to join the order after the arrival of the Prydwen. But it's not the -entire- story, and the Brotherhood's status as a unified whole is a carefully constructed lie. 

    The truth resembles the official narrative to a point: Arthur Maxson's ascent to the position of Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood and his approval from the West Coast chapter did ensure the Brotherhood Outcasts of the Capital Wasteland returned to the fold, mollified that the Order would return to it's original mission to safeguard (hoard, if you're more critical) the technology of the past. But not every member of the order was satisfied with the new direction the Brotherhood was undertaking in the wake of Sarah Lyons' death. One of those individuals was Paladin Morgan Mattick. Mattick had been a member of the Lyons Pride, the elite squad hand-picked by Sarah Lyons to combat the various threats in the Capital Wasteland and ensure the safety of the populace there. Mattick had taken a great deal of pride in the work the Pride had accomplished, and was a loyal follower of both Lyons.

     Heartbroken by Owen Lyon's death, Mattick was ready to serve Sarah and continue the East Coast Brotherhood's mission. . .only for Sarah to be killed in battle shortly after her father's passing. The battle itself had been a debacle, with the Lyons Pride and two other squads fighting a pitched battle with raiders. When the smoke cleared, Sarah's body was found, her armour scorched by laser fire. She had been shot in the back. The other squads swore it had been a surprise ambush from raiders hidden nearby, but Mattick and the other survivors of the Pride were less certain. Mattick, a true believer in the spirit of the Brotherhood's mission over the letter of its dogma, began to have doubts. 

Arthur

    Arthur's ascension initially quelled many of Mattick's doubts: unlike the succession of incompetents that had followed Sarah's death, Maxson was a dedicated leader, a father to his men, and had a vision of continuing Owen and Sarah Lyons protection of the citizens of the Capital Wasteland. But Arthur's vision of 'protection' clashed with the Lyons Doctrine: it felt less like protection of the helpless and more like a monarch's rule. That, combined with Maxson's increasing human supremacist views (Lyons Pride had worked with non-feral ghouls and Super Mutants in the past and found them worthy allies), and his increasing obsession with synths worried Mattick. And then the Prydwen project was announced. 

    The Prydwen was the most ambitious project the Brotherhood had undertaken: a massive mobile base dedicated to the purpose of expanding the order's reach from the Capital Wasteland to the Commonwealth. The only problem was power: the Prydwen's specs called for a fusion plant, and while the Order had no small amount of technology from the old world housed in the Citadel, a fusion plant wasn't one of them. The only viable fusion plant to be found was the one powering the community of Rivet City, a human settlement built in the ruins of an old world aircraft carrier. Maxson made plans to obtain it: by diplomacy if possible, by force if not. Mattick argued fiercely for the rights of the people of Rivet City to the source of their power. The Lone Wanderer may have been able to provide clean water with their sacrifice, but didn't the people of Rivet City deserve light and heat as well?     Maxson heard Mattick's arguments, patted the older Paladin's shoulder and promised him that they would explore other alternatives. Proctor Quinlan offered a potential site for another aircraft carrier further up the coast. Maxson assigned Mattick and his squad (comprised of Lyons Pride survivors) to obtain the fusion reactor for the Prydwen. Relieved, Mattick and his team started north along the coast to find the abandoned carrier. They found a wreck at an old naval base. . .but it had been picked clean decades ago. Radioing back, Mattick received orders to return to base, as an alternative had been found. As Mattick's squad entered the capital wasteland, they saw smoke in the distance. 

    Rivet City had fallen to the Brotherhood of Steel.

The Schism

    Mattick was furious. He stormed into Maxson's office in the Citadel, the Paladins on guard in the hall sprawled unconscious in his wake. Mattick spoke his mind and he spoke it truthfully: Maxson had betrayed the ideals of Owen and Sarah Lyons, his actions had spat on their memory, and he was a disgrace to all the Brotherhood of Steel had been. The two argued loudly, Maxson charging a physically restrained Mattick with insubordination and expelling him from the Brotherhood of Steel. Mattick's reply was cold and hard as the power armour the paladins stripped from him:

"If this is your Brotherhood, then I want no part of it."

    Morgan Mattick strode out of the Citadel with little more than the clothes on his back, a satchel of his personal effects, and a 10mm pistol. Arthur Maxson and the Brotherhood continued with their expansionist plans, confident that Mattick wouldn't be an impediment to the Brotherhood of Steel any longer, his death in the wasteland all but assured. They were to be proven very, very wrong.

The Exodus and a new direction

    Mattick wandered north, initially with the plan to warn the Commonwealth of the Brotherhood's arrival. As he left the Capital Wasteland, he found himself joined by the members of his squad, as well as a number of knights, scribes, and initiates who had been supporters of Owen and Sarah Lyons. The group moved quickly, having taken a number of scout reports from the Brotherhood's forays north. Using it as a guide, they found a military bunker south of the city of Boston. Upon exploration of the ruin a substantial cache of pre-war weaponry and armour was found, including a large number of laser rifles, powered armour, and vertibirds. Retrofitted from an abandoned copper mine the Bunker (as it came to be known) had hidden launch bays for vertibirds (two of the three remaining functional) as well as machine shops, living quarters, medical facilities, supplies, all the amenities the fugitive Brotherhood members would need. 

    On the journey Mattick thought long and hard about Maxson, about the Lyons, and about the Brotherhood's mission. A few of his squad and the other defectors believed they should strike back at the Brotherhood, gather allies from the Underworld and the survivors of Rivet City and take the fight to the order directly. Mattick disagreed. "The order is too powerful. For now, we will do our best to show another way, and hope that the others will join our cause and forsake Maxson's madness."

    Along the trek north Mattick had read the books Owen Lyons had given him as a young initiate: The Communist Manifesto, The Cry for Justice, Meditations, and The Art of Living. He meditated on the Brotherhood of Steel, on the nature of the order, and found that while there was much to be admired in its mission to act as steward to the technology of the past to protect humanity from another apocalypse, the temptation to sit on that technology and not use it for the benefit of the people had warped the order's purpose. A new path was needed, one that put the people of the Wasteland first.

    Mattick shared his vision with the others, and found them of a like mind. To his surprise, the defectors had elected him the Elder of this new group. Giving it the name the Red Brotherhood in partial mockery of the Brotherhoods' adherence to the iconography of the Western powers and as a nod to more communist ideals, the newly appointed Elder began his campaign to aid the people of the Commonwealth and help restore civilization according to the principles of Owen and Sarah Lyons.

The Red Brotherhood

    Not long after the Prydwen's arrival in the Commonwealth, rumours began to emerge of Brotherhood of Steel soldiers wandering the Wasteland protecting citizens. This wouldn't be anything new, except rather than the dull green of the standard Brotherhood squads the power armour, uniforms, and vertibirds of these Brotherhood squads were all bright red, a stylized logo of a Lion's head with it's jaws closing on a golden star emblazoned on the chest plates of their armour. These warriors called themselves the Red Brotherhood, and unlike raider gangs or even the Brotherhood of Steel they worked to not only protect the communities of the Wasteland, but provided technologies (medicine, improved filtration systems, and genetically modified seeds) to allow the communities to become stronger. It didn't take long for Maxson and the Brotherhood to realize who was behind this new power in the Commonwealth: Morgan Mattick left a statement for Publick Occurrences, which ran the following:

    "Greetings to the people of the Commonwealth. My name is Morgan Mattick, Elder of the Red Brotherhood. We are a group committed to the protection of the innocent and the restoration of civilization throughout the wasteland. We were once members of the Brotherhood of Steel but can no longer in good conscience serve that institution. It has fallen far from the vision of good people, people like Owen and Sarah Lyons. It has become an imperialist power which seeks to rule the people, not serve them. To that end, we offer an alternative. We offer our protection, our service, and our lives to ensure the Commonwealth prospers. That all people who live here: human, ghoul, and super-mutant who eschew the ways of violence and seek their own betterment will do so with our protection and our support. We ask that you join us in this cause. Together, we can throw off the chains of the old world and build something new. Something better. We are the Red Brotherhood, and we are here to help."

The Red Brotherhood today

Mattick has been very careful to avoid the Boston Airport and the Prydwen. He's made it clear to his paladins and knights that direct confrontation with the Brotherhood is forbidden for the moment. Instead, the Red Brotherhood patrols trade routes, making a circuit of communities that require assistance and offer whatever they might require. If raiders need to be taken care of, the Red Brotherhood gives them one opportunity to throw down their weapons before crushing them. Super Mutants? The Red Brotherhood will determine if they can be reasoned with, and utterly destroy them if they can't. Unlike the Brotherhood of Steel, the Red Brotherhood has opened its membership to non-feral ghouls and super-mutants. The one area where both the original BoS and the RB agree upon is the matter of the Institute. Mattick has made it clear that a goal of his Brotherhood is to destroy the Institute and their synthetics. He's extremely wary of the idea of liberated synthetics, and it would take a great deal of persuasion to leave the Railroad alone. To his mind each third generation synth is a bomb waiting to go off. He might be persuaded to leave them be if there was some means of tracking them, to ensure they didn't go rogue.

    The Minutemen are boon allies to the Red Brotherhood, but Mattick is dissatisfied with the organization as a whole. Their independent nature and lackadaisical structure irritate the older paladin, who prefers the simplicity and direct methodology of the Chain that Binds. Mattick finds Preston Garvey particularly grating, seeing him as more bureaucrat handing out missions for his CO to solve rather than effectively dispatching Minutemen operatives to resolve crises. Still, on an individual basis the two groups work well together, and the Minutemen have saved the Red Brotherhood from Brotherhood of Steel reprisals a number of times. 

    Mattick has no illusions however: Maxson won't stand for a rival organization, especially one allowing for the people of the wasteland to become less and less reliant on the Brotherhood of Steel's "benevolent" rule. A confrontation is inevitable, and it's one Mattick plans to win. While very much an idealist and a believer in the teachings of his beloved mentor and his daughter, Mattick knows the defeat of the Brotherhood of Steel is a long game, one that will require the assistance of the people of the wasteland. Eventually, when sufficient recruits have been inducted into the order and the people of the wasteland support the Red Brotherhood, he'll make his play. For now, he simply does what he can to help others today, and hopes when the time comes he'll have their aid when he needs it tomorrow.

The Red Brotherhood in your campaign

    The Red Brotherhood serves as a potential ally (or character origin) for player characters in the Wasteland: their methods and tactics are similar to the Brotherhood's own, as well as their ranks and organizational structure (See the Brotherhood of Steel Entry in Chapter Ten: Denizens of the Wasteland on page 382 for stats, using the Paladin Entry for Mattick and his lieutenants). Mechanically they're no different than the Brotherhood proper (the Brotherhood Initiate Origin on page 51 of Fallout: The Roleplaying game may be used for the Red Brotherhood also), but in terms of methodology they're a throwback to the Brotherhood of Steel under Owen Lyons in Fallout 3. Simply put, they use their technology in the service of the people of the wasteland, and work to uplift them back to a level before the war, albeit one with socialist/communist ideals emphasized over the old world model of hyper-capitalism. They're by no means foolish about their sharing of tech (they're not about to give the residents of the wasteland their power armour or laser rifles) but they'll share medical supplies, engineering assistance, advanced agricultural techniques, all in the service of aiding the people of the Commonwealth.


Mattick is a compassionate man who legitimately cares about people, but he's seen what Maxson and the Brotherhood have planned for the Commonwealth and he won't stand for it. He does his best to have his people avoid the Brotherhood, but given the RB and BoS are both securing trade routes between settlements (Maxson to forward his expansionist agenda and have the settlements become reliant on the BoS and Mattick to legitimately help the settlers however he can) the clash is inevitable. Mattick's no fool: he knows that in a stand-up fight, despite their equal footing in gear and vertibirds the Red Brotherhood simply lacks the numbers to meet the BoS in a straight fight. For now, Mattick's standing orders for the RB is to avoid the BoS unless there is no other option, and even then retreat at the first opportunity. In an address to his people, Mattick made his intentions clear: "The time will come when we'll be in a strong enough position to confront Arthur and his cronies. But for now, we play the long game." 

    If the Red Brotherhood is a little too upbeat for your Fallout setting you can always have Mattick be considerably less noble in his motives: it wasn't that Arthur's plan was wrong, it was that the West Coast Brotherhood chose a boy over a seasoned soldier who was clearly next in the chain of command. Mattick's ego wouldn't allow him to take orders from Arthur, so he stormed off in a fit of pique. His rhetoric is a carefully constructed lie no better than the Brotherhood proper's mythologizing Arthur's accomplishments, and if given the chance Mattock and his growing band of followers could become a worse threat than any mere raider gang or band of super mutants. They could become the next Enclave.

Quests

*Red Sky At Morning: the PCs are wandering the wastes when suddenly they notice a heavily damaged red overtired crash in the nearby ruins. Upon reaching the wreck they find a group of Red Brotherhood soldiers doing their best to strip the wreck of anything salvageable. The soldiers are initially suspicious of the PCs, but if they look to be helpful they'll ask for assistance finding a safe haven. The engines of another overtired can be heard in the distance, and a pursuing squad of Brotherhood of Steel soldiers is closing in. Will the PCs aid the Red Brotherhood's escape? Will they sell them out to the Brotherhood? Will the gang of raiders that's been closing in on both groups attack? 

*Red Diamond: The Red Brotherhood has made inroads into the outlying settlements of the Commonwealth, but now they take a bold step: creating a chapter house in Diamond City. As part of an arrangement with the mayor's office the Red Brotherhood has converted a former residence into a combination recruitment centre/way station for travelling Red soldiers. Needless to say the Brotherhood of Steel is -not- impressed, and make their displeasure apparent outside the city. The mayor is in a bind: on the one hand the Red Brotherhood make for a wonderful supplement to Diamond City Security and they provide tech and assistance for free, but irritating the Brotherhood of Steel could cause real problems for the city. The mayor elects to hire some freelancers (the PCs) and gives them an assignment: either find a way to get the Brotherhood of Steel to leave the Reds in Diamond City alone (unlikely) or find a way to get the Red soldiers to leave. The Reds are willing to leave, if the PCs help them confiscate the tech of a local lunatic called the Machinist.. . 

*Red Heat: the PCs are Red Brotherhood members (or allies) charged with a mission: eliminate a band of Forged raiders who have expanded their operation beyond the Augustus Ironwork into a facility perilously close to the Bunker. The PCs have crate Blanche to deal with the raiders as they see fit, but when they discover that the Ironwork is vulnerable, should they risk it to eliminate the Forged once and for all? Or simply raid the raiders for much needed supplies for the communities of the Commonwealth? Either option opens up it's own set of risks and rewards.

In Memoriam: Paul Ryan 1949-2016.

I received word that Paul Ryan passed away at the office today, and I spent the rest of the work day in a daze. I couldn't process it. I thought I would have more time, that I'd get the chance to meet him at a convention, shake his hand and thank him for the hard work he put into the comics of my youth. It's strange to be so affected by the death of a man I never met, but in a very real way Ryan had a hand in shaping some of my favorite comics and thus had easily as much impact on my life as Christopher Reeve, Jim Henson, and Leonard Nimoy.

Erik Larsen once posited that there are certain characters that become yours as you grow from a kid who reads comics into a comicbook fan. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Spider-Man, these are the giants. They're untouchable, and my relationship with Superman as a character is part of the bedrock of my psyche. But Superman belongs to the world, or at least so it seemed. Some characters you find and you feel like it's a discovery. Like it's something only you know about. You develop an affection for the character. He becomes 'yours' in a way that Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman and Spider-Man just can't. For me in my Marvel Comics heyday, that character was Quasar.

 QUASAR was written by the late, great Mark Gruenwald, and he teamed with Paul Ryan in the wake of their excellent collaboration on the 12-part SQUADRON SUPREME series which I'll rave about given any opportunity. Ryan's work had a distinctive style that caught the eye. He wasn't showy or ostentatious, but he could deliver spectacle. He was especially suited for the more cosmic books like QUASAR, FANTASTIC FOUR, and SUPERMAN. He had a style and an attention to detail even in the most fantastic of scenarios that I can only call "pure comics." He never felt like he was phoning it in. He delivered on every issue and he made every character he drew feel alive.

 Picking out a favorite issue is tough, but if I have to pick it's easily LEGENDS OF THE DC UNIVERSE CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: THE UNTOLD STORY. Written by Marv Wolfman and drawn by Ryan, it's a missing chapter from the epic saga that brought down the curtain on the DC Multiverse (for a while, at least). Ryan's art manages to create a comparable sense of grandeur as George Perez's work on the original CRISIS. The creation of a completely distinct parallel Earth complete with it's own visually distinctive take on the classic  DC Comics' heroes couldn't have been easy either, but Ryan handled it with aplomb and made you feel real sympathy for the heroes of a doomed universe. It's damned impressive and if you can find it in the back issue bins at a convention I highly recommend it.

Ryan also illustrated FANTASTIC FIVE, one of my favorite titles to come out of the MC2 stable of comics: a futuristic take on the World's Greatest Comics Magazine that was at once familiar and fresh at the same time. One day I'll cover the MC2 universe (and it's most famous scion SPIDER-GIRL) later on down the line, but suffice to say FANTASTIC FIVE was my hands-down favorite. You could tell Ryan loved getting to release his inner King Kirby, and it showed in every panel on the book Again, if you can track this series down, do so. It's wonderful stuff.

While the man himself is gone, the quality of his art will stand tall for years to come. I wish I could have met him in person so I could have thanked him for the wonderful body of work. Mr. Ryan, you will be deeply missed.

Let's Roll: ROTTED CAPES.

"They're coming to get you Lois. . ."

  I'm Stacy, and I am a tabletop RPG addict.

 You'd think that without access to a regular gaming group and the time to even engage in roleplaying games I'd wise up and save my hard-earned dollars for something a bit more sensible, like socks or regular tire rotation. But no. Each week invariably finds me at my friendly local games store, browsing through the aisles for a setting to catch my eye and part me from aforementioned cash like Jack from the family cow.

 Those who know me, either from long friendship or from my work on The Fanboy Power Hour (/shameless plug), may have detected a more than partial bias to superhero comics, particularly those of the Silver Age variety. Four-Color superhero worlds with talking monkeys, jetpacks, and diabolical mad scientists out to Take Over The World. . .I eat that sort of thing up like a big ol' bowl of Frosted Flakes on a Saturday morning. But for all that, there is this twisted little part of me that loves to see those heroic archetypes get pulled through the proverbial ringer. Books like IRREDEEMABLE, LEAVING MEGAOPOLIS, THE MIGHTY, and MARVEL ZOMBIES which take those shining symbols of idealism and hope and warp them almost beyond recognition.

 Why yes, I feel fine. Why do you ask?

 Which brings us to ROTTED CAPES, the Post-Apocalyptic Superhero Game of Zombie Survival Horror from Paradigm Concepts.

The scenario is simple enough: a zombie apocalypse takes place on a world that just so happens to be home to a variety of superhuman heroes and villains. Your character is one of the few superhumans remaining in the aftermath of Z-Day, when something happened that changed the world into a nightmare of walking undead horror. Even worse than the standard undead hordes, a number of superheroes and villains were infected by the virus and became z'ed themselves. Intelligent and amoral and in complete possession of their powers, they're stalking you as the undead hordes stalk the people under your protection. Can you keep the enclave of humanity you're working to support safe from the undead, or will you fall in battle and become the horror stalking them in the night? Will you hold on to your ideals or slowly sink into the morass of questionable ethics the world has become? This is the world of ROTTED CAPES.

 Superheroes and Horror can make for a tough balancing act. One the one hand Horror's mission objective is to scare you, to illustrate the world as a stalking ground of terrors and to prove to us that humanity is ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Superheroes allow us escapism and the hope that we can be better and that we can help each other make the world a better place. From a storytelling perspective tilting the balance too far in either direction will cause one of the elements to become insignifcant. Make things too grim and your players will lose hope, believing they can't make a difference in the face of unrelenting evil. Make things too optimistic and you lose the higher stakes feel that a zombie apocalypse can provide. One of the ways the game works to balance the issue is to ensure your characters are 'b-list' superheroes. Simply put, you're not Superman or The Mighty Thor. You're more like Black Lightning or the Guardian. You have powers and abilities that put you a cut above most people, but you're not invincible. No, most of those 'A-list' heroes either were killed in the initial conflict or were infected and become Super Zombies. They will never stop hunting you, have all the powers they had in life, and they're completely amoral. Imagine a serial killer with Superman's power set. Sweet dreams. . .

 System wise the game utilize a dice set of four, six, eight, ten and 12-sided dice. You will need two ten-sided dice (2d10) to act as your Action Dice. The mechanic is simple: Roll your Action Dice, then an attribute die (Strength, Vitality, etc). Add the results of the roll, then modifiers for powers, skills, advantages, and the like and compare the results to a Target Number set by the Editor-in-Chief (the Game Master). If you beat the target number, you achieve your goal. The system allows for a number of superhuman abilities, talents, and skill sets. You can build just about any superhero from Batman to Luke Cage, and even the big guns if your EiC is feeling generous and wants a higher powered game.

 Artistically the imagery in the game ranges from good to great, with a few striking images such as the book's cover that really help set the game's equal parts horrific and heroic tone. The In-Game setting of Paradigm City is well-constructed and the Non-Player Characters provided as examples for character creation and potential supporting cast/player characters or even antagonists make for interesting reading material. The setting is an intriguing one and hands a lot of guns on the wall for the EiC to build upon. The actual nature of Z-Day is kept deliberately vague for a future revelation, but some potential causes are discussed and explored if the Editor wants to provide an explanation out of the gate.

 ROTTED CAPES makes for a lot of fun but I'd be remiss if I didn't point out a few flaws here and there that took me out of the game a little. The power sets break down into three primary modes: Super-Human (Inherent physical powers), Skill Hero (trained heroes like Batman), or Tech Hero (mad scientist/Iron Man types). This seemingly limits the game for anyone who'd like to create a character a bit outside of these three paths. Magic-based heroes for example are possible, but in comparison to other superhero systems (Green Ronin's MUTANTS & MASTERMINDS for example) the game can feel a little limited. But again, this is a nitpick and far from a deal-breaker.

Overall ROTTED CAPES has an intriguing premise and is a fun-looking system that looks like it'd be a blast to play. If you're looking to spice up the gaming table with a supers campaign that's off the beaten track or want to give your horror heroes a decidedly potent edge against the forces of the undead this system has plenty of toys in the box that'd make for hours of fun gameplay. Thus far the core rulebook and a single adventure sourcebook entitled MIND GAMES are the sole products for the RC line, but I'm hopeful Paradigm will produce more. Despite the minor flaws here and there the game overall is a strong beginning to a setting I'd love to see explored in further detail. Consider it recommended.

You Should Read This: ORCS: FORGED FOR WAR.

  Orc. For Fantasy fans the word alone is enough to send a light shiver up the spine. Whether you first encountered them on the printed page or the silver screen, in the works of Tolkien or in the press of melee during an intense session of Dungeons & Dragons, we all know what Orcs are: brutes, monsters, savages. Cannon fodder for the forces of evil, wave after endless wave of largely disposal mooks for the intrepid (and mostly human) characters to charge through with drawn blades flashing. They are the foot soldiers of darkness, and deserve nothing but the scorn and righteous fury of all right-thinking beings in your typical fantasy world. Simple as that.

 Come say hi to the bad guy.

 ORCS: FORGED FOR WAR by Stan Nicholls and Joe Flood tells an epic fantasy saga, but posits a very intriguing "What if"? With history primarily written by the victors, what if orcs themselves were in fact a violent but nevertheless noble people? What if orcs are in fact fighting for the very survival of their way of life in the face on an encroaching humanity whose presence is slowly but surely snuffing out the magic in the world?

 Stryke leads the Wolverines, an orc war band sworn to the service of Jennesta, a despotic sorceress who has allied herself with the Followers of the Manifold (Manis), those humans who follow ancient pagan traditions and are (slightly) less intolerant than the humans who follow Unity (Unis), who adhere to a cult of monotheism. Under orders from Jennesta to escort a band of goblins to ostensibly test a weapon that could turn the tide of the war against the Unis, Stryke and his band soon find themselves neck deep in trouble. Damned if they fail, unlikely to succeed, it's the kind of fight that would leave lesser men broken. Good thing the Wolverines aren't men.

 Stan Nicholls has written a number of prose stories set on the world of Maras-Dantia (The ORCS: FIRST BLOOD and ORCS:  BAD BLOOD trilogies respectively), but knowledge of those works isn't required in order to enjoy FORGED FOR WAR. Nicholls writing provides each orc with their own distinctive personality, and Joe Flood's art makes the principal cast distinctive. Flood's artwork has a nice mixture of classic fantasy along with a Herge-like quality that I found highly enjoyable.

Favorite characters include Stryke, an orc with a gift for war who's far more than a hulking berserker, Jup, the sole dwarf in the Wolverines and one of Stryke's sergeants whose loyalties are ever-questioned in a world where dwarves have frequently sold out the Elder Races, and Coilla, a corporal in the Wolverines as well as their tactical genius, her plans save the orcs' collective bacon on more than one occasion. There are a number of characters you love to hate, from Jennesta's equal measure of condescending cruelty and magical malevolence to the bigotry and persecution of the Unis fanatical leader Kimball Howbrow. If there's one thing this graphic novel excels in, it's making humans look to be utter and complete bastards. One sequence in particular had my lips skin back from my teeth like a wolf in equal parts anger and disgust. When a creative team can pull that off, you know you've got a keeper.

 Well-written, well-illustrated, and with both an engaging premise and an entertaining story to boot, ORCS: FORGED FOR WAR is one to enjoy. Get ready to root for the bad guy.

You Should Read This: FAITH #1 & 2.

If there's a word I'd use to describe my comic-book shopping agenda on those weekends when my time is my own and I owe nothing to the world it'd have to be "random." A lot of comics fans like to establish weekly pull lists for their friendly local comic book store, or they subscribe to a certain title on Comixology or the like. They have plans, favored titles and creators that they follow with regularity and basically invest in their haul much the same way as a Netflix subscriber has their to-watch list. Me, I'm not like that. Frequently I'll have an idea of what titles I'd like to check in on, but for the most part I just wander among the new release shelves, letting my feet take me where they will. Some enjoy the thrill of the chase, I just like to wander into new places and see what's doing. So it is with my discovery of Valiant Comics FAITH by the team of Jody Houser, Francis Portella, and Maguerite Sauvage.

 Back in the halcyon days of the 1990s I was a huge fan of Valiant Comics. Initially luring me in with their enjoyable takes on classic Gold Key characters like Doctor Solar, Man of the Atom, Turok: Dinosaur Hunter and Magnus: Robot Fighter (one of my All-Time Favorite Characters), the Valiant brand expanded to a number of unique creations such as Bloodshot, X-O Manowar, and Harbinger. Unfortunately, due to a number of reasons too involved to go into for the purposes of this article, Valiant in the '90s shut down and their stable of characters was consigned to the limbo of back issue bins for the better part of two decades. Recently the line made a comeback however, and with the aid of a number of talented creators the line has again become a force to be reckoned with. Books like RAI, ARCHER & ARMSTRONG, and THE ETERNAL WARRIOR are once again making their way back into my To-Read pile and I couldn't be happier.

 The eponymous lead of FAITH spins out of a title called HARBINGER, but you don't need to have read that book in order to enjoy this one. The elevator pitch is as follows:

 "When a car accident left her orphaned, Faith Herbert was raised by her loving grandmother and found comfort in comic books, science fiction movies, and other fantastic tales of superheroes. In her teens she would discover her fantasies were reality when it was revealed she was a psiot--a human being born with incredible abilities. Faith joined a group of fellow psiots called the Renegades to stand against the forces of evil. She's since left her Renegade family behind to take on the world's challenges on her own. She may have a lot to learn about the superhero game, but if there's one thing she's always had, it's. . .FAITH."

FAITH BEGINS opens with our heroine attempting to make a life for herself as a superheroine and reporter in California, but with the journalism game not being all it's cracked up to be she's settled for being an online content generator for an entertainment website by day and the superheroic Zephyr by night. Gradually though she's pulled into a greater mystery that may involve ties to the psiot community, and when things escalate, they escalate quickly for our heroine.

You ever meet a character in a fictional piece and it feels like you've known them forever? Faith Herbert is like that. She's got superhero memorobilia, statues, she makes pop culture references. One of the highest compliments I can give Jody Houser's writing is that the character feels like people I've known in my life in fandom. . .hell, people I still actively know. People like myself. An engaging protagonist who you come to care about and actively root for is a key to longevity in an increasingly expensive comics fandom, and the team succeeds in bringing her to life with aplomb. Francis Portella's artwork allows for a nice blend of the fantastic and the familiar, from high-flying superheroics to the office politics many of us know only too well. And a special shout-out has to go to Marguerite Sauvage, whose work on Faith's fantasy sequences give us a fun snapshot of our heroine's psyche.


 It's a rare treat to find a title that you grok to so quickly and easily as FAITH. Whether you're a longtime fan or a complete comics neophyte, titles like this are ones everyone can enjoy. The first and second issues are on the stands now and I give them my heartiest and highest recommendation possible. I haven't had this much fun with a character since THE UNBEATABLE SQUIRREL GIRL. Not feeling most of the superhero titles out there? Have some FAITH my friend.  You won't regret it.

Stacy (Finally) Watches THE FLASH.

"Now run, Barry. Run. . .!"

 I have no earthly idea why, but there's just something inside me that is extremely reluctant to embrace the mainstream wholeheartedly. I remember being a young man and absolutely refusing to have anything to do with the Harry Potter books solely because they were popular. I wasn't going to be taken in by this pokemon-literature. I was a Serious Reader of  Serious Fantasy. It was only after HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE was assigned to me for a course at university that I gave it a chance and immediately learned a truth: sometimes the zeitgeist actually know what it's talking about. It's rare, but it's true.

 Which brings me to THE FLASH. Yes, my friends raved about it. Yes, people in the know whose opinions I trust told me I absolutely, positively, had to watch this show as I would take to it like a duck to water. But for all the praise there was still this little part of me that resisted. ARROW's initial take on the character of Oliver Queen as a vigilante who flat-out killed criminals had turned me off a bit to the DC Television stable, and while I was assured that this series was to be a complete 180 from ARROW in many ways, it's hard to make me want to watch genre television, particularly adaptations of favorite titles like THE FLASH. This show was about Barry Allen. My Flash was Wally West. This show had a darker take on the Flash costume. I wanted the wings and the yellow boots. I had a vision in my mind of what the character should have been and while my vision wasn't wrong it wasn't entirely compatible with what was on the screen. So I hesitated.

 But a funny thing happened on the way to the forum. On a whim I picked up the first collection of DC's SMALLVILLE SEASON ELEVEN, a comics continuation of the CW series. Now, understand that I -did not- care for Smallville. The liberties taken with the canon and the long, loooooong time it took to get Clark into the suit and actually becoming Superman drove me bananas. But, in need of a Superman series to read I picked it up. . .and devoured the first trade pretty much in a single sitting. Bryan Q. Miller's take on the SMALLVILLE-verse was a mixture of the familiar and the conceits of the series in such a way that I realized something not only about the series but about myself.

 With the series, it was the notion that this take on the DC Universe could literally have it's cake and eat it too, incorporating all the coolest toys in the toybox without worrying about the budgetary constraints of the SMALLVILLE TV series. Seriously, if you haven't checked out the 7 trade collections out so far from DC I heartily recommend them.

With myself, it was simply this: I was being silly. Holding out for a version of a character you enjoy that's sympatico with your ideal take on the character (the 'real' version you hold in your mind) is about as worthwhile an endeavor as trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon. With this in mind, I bought the first season of THE FLASH on Blu Ray, and having some time free over my Christmas vacation I say down with it and watched the first episode. And the second. The third. And so on into the night. By the time the credits rolled on FAST ENOUGH, the season finale, I was both an emotional dishrag and a devout believer in the power trio of Berlanti, Kriesberg, and Johns.

 The beauty of the series isn't just the love that goes into the costumed characters and the fights (which are plenty awesome, believe you me), but the thing I absolutely love about the show is the heart. Good -God- the heart. If you can make it through the sequence where Barry Allen/The Flash (played with aplomb by Garrett Gustin) gets to say goodbye to his mother (you know the sequence) without rolling tears you are stronger than I will ever be. I haven't bawled like that since the end of THE GREEN MILE. The family dynamic between Barry Allen, His father Henry (played by John Wesley Shipp, the Flash of my youth), his foster-father Joe West (Jesse Martin, who absolutely crushes as the moral anchor of the show), Barry's unrequited love Iris (Candice Patton, who is intensely charismatic and idealistic in her own right). . .not to mention Team Flash consisting of Caitlin Snow (Danielle Panabaker) and Cisco Ramon (Carlos Valdes, expect to hear from my attorney because your character's nerdity is clearly infringing on my copyright).

And then there's Harrison Wells (Tom Cavanagh).


 Dear God in Heaven, I could do a rant and half of the character of Harrison Wells, on how the arc of that character is in many ways equally as fascinating as that of our protagonist. If you haven't watched the show, I will do my utmost not to spoil it, but this take on the Mentor Archetype is so wonderfully crafted and put to such amazing use that I was left gobsmacked. As a writer, the gears and mechanisms of Making Story sometimes keep me from fully appreciating a book, movie, or TV show as I can usually pick up on the cues of a series or story unfolding and see things coming from a mile out. Like a magician watching another magician set up a trick. But with Wells. . .well, that'd be telling, but regardless my expectations were played with and I loved it. A gun was hung on the wall in the pilot, and by the end it went off with one seriously powerful bang.

And the love of the source material is insane. Costumes. Code names. THE FLASH MUSEUM. Mark Hamill reprising his role as the Trickster from the '90s FLASH series. Jay. Frickin'. Garrick (whom I've yet to see, but his helmet showed up in the season finale). All handled with such skill that the neophyte and the longtime comics reader can sit down and enjoy it and be equally entertained. I watched an episode of THE FLASH with GORILLA GRODD people. With my father. And he liked it too! We live in blessed times.

So yes, I was late to the party But now that I'm here I can't wait to see where this is headed. Consider me a fan.

 ~Stacy

There & Back Again: A Fantasy Fan's Tale.

 So, here we are. The End of All Things.

 It's hard to believe that the film adaptations of LORD OF THE RINGS are now over a decade old. It seems like only yesterday my brother Ryan and I were settling into our seats at the cinema in Red Deer, Alberta to watch the theatrical cut of THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING in 2001. At the time, I had reasonable, if relatively low expectations for the film. Traditionally to that point Fantasy as a movie genre had experienced only middling success over the past few decades: there were the odd diamonds in the rough (your DRAGONHEART, your WILLOW, your BEASTMASTER), but none of them had really had any definitive staying power and after CONAN THE DESTROYER's rather disappointing follow up to CONAN (the film that had sparked the brief Fantasy revival in movies), the genre was treated much like the Western is now; they can be done, but usually as low-rent, direct to VHS or low-rent cable fare. At the time I had no idea who Jackson was beyond the fact that he'd directed THE FRIGHTENERS(I was blissfully unaware of MEET THE FEEBLES. I will never be that innocent again). I remembered liking the flick, so I thought we'd get something akin to that, with the usual low-rent effects and swiss-chesse narrative of the Bakshi attempt at the Lord of the Rings from years prior. And then the credits rolled, the New Line Cinemas logo appeared. . .and everything changed.

 A moment of painful honesty here: While Tolkien's work as a visionary and a fantasist is beyond dispute, his actual prose tends to leave me a little cold. As an idea man he is without equal. Much like Isaac Asimov, the man created concepts, whole culutres and worlds from the fabric of his imagination. He created the Elvish language in his idle time teaching at Oxford. . .and then created the whole of Middle-Earth to support the linguisitic equivalent of doodling. That is amazing beyond all the telling of it. But his prose has always been a bit problematic to me. I think it suffers from an unfortunate case of bad timing, really: by the time I got my hands on the 1992 Centenary Editions of LORD OF THE RINGS and THE HOBBIT, I'd already been to Krynn, the Hyborian Age, Melnibone, Lankhmar, Florin, and Camelot. The works of Tolkien were good, make no mistake, but in the wake of those more contemporary authors I was left wondering what the big deal was all about. I was seventeen, people. Grade on a curve is all I'm saying.

 What Fran Walsh, Peter Jackson, Phillipa Goyens, and Steve Sinclair managed with the adaptations of each of the three texts to film I liken to William Goldman's grandfather in THE PRINCESS BRIDE: they provided "The Good Parts" version of the original work. Of course, it could also be argued that they took more than a few liberties with the series (THE HOBBIT becoming the basis of an entirely new trilogy of films stands testament to that) but I like to think where they erred, they did so on the side of telling an entertaining story, not out of malice or in any effort to upstage Tolkien himself. The novels will always stand as touchstones of epic fantasy, and the films themselves do their best to honor that.


THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES is by no means a perfect film: the romance sub-plot is eye-rolling at best and irritating at worst(seriously, Tauriel is seventeen shades of badass but the minute Kili comes into view she gets distracted and beat down? C'mon now), and it was getting to be a bit much to see Legolas constantly playing in God mode(though the impossible happened and he actually ran out of arrows, which was something at least), serving at the Ace Rimmer of Jackson's Tolkienverse. But Richard Armitage's Thorin Oakenshield is easily one of my favorite characters in fantasy film, thanks to the actor's wonderful performance. Whereas Viggo Mortensen's Aragorn wanted no part of his lineage, Thorin is desperate to reclaim it, to see Erebor restored and his people brought back from the misery they endured at Smaug's talons. In the hands of a lesser actor he could have easily gone moustache-twirling, hammy evil when suffering from the Dragon Sickness of the treasure and his need for the Arkenstone, but Armitage makes it clear that there is a very real war going on in the soul of this noble dwarf, to the point I almost expected a Superman III-style fight between King Thorin and Thorin Oakenshield atop the lake of gold.

 Martin Freeman's Bilbo isn't given as much to do here as he did in the previous films, but he is the heart of the films and it shows. His concern for Thorin's sanity, his compassion at the plight of his friend going more and more obessessed with the Arkenstone contrasts neatly with Bilbo's own growing fascination with an object that is equally. . .precious. . .to him.The scene where he takes his leave of Erebor and the dwarves. . .when he says goodbye to Balin and when he returns home. . .if your eyes don't get a little dusty, you're a stronger person than I.

And while yes, the scene with Gandalf's rescue is pure fanservice, I cannot in good conscience state I was at all put out by the arrival of the White Council in the nick of time, to say nothing of the epic smackdown given to the Nine and Sauron. Unnecesary? Maybe. Fun? Ohhhhh hells yes.

All the actors are doing solid, credible work here, but c'mon. We all know Billy Connolly walked off with the movie as Dain Ironfoot. Peter, Fran, Phillipa. . .when do I get my Dain Ironfoot movie? Whose palm do I place the money in? Tell me when to stop.

It's strange to think that the last of these films (THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES) has been released, and with it the entire saga of Tolkien on film has come to its conclusion. As a society raised in part by syndicated television and movie sequels the concept of the third act and the conclusion has always been a problematic one. Stephen King argues in his magnificent ON WRITING that the reason we have so many Fantasy novels stems from that primal desire to continue walking that road that leads ever on, for we cannot fully accept in our minds that the story has come to a close. As a superhero fan, I'm keenly aware of this willful resistance: supehero stories consist entirely of first and second acts. There will never be a final Superman story or final Batman story (WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE MAN OF TOMORROW & THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS are mere shadows, 'what-ifs' or 'imaginary stories' that take place outside of canon). Those characters will continue to be written and rewritten, due to a near primal desire to have the familiar reinterpreted for a new generation. But even the best stories end eventually. Arthur faces Mordred at the battle of Camlann, Robin Hood fires his last arrow to mark his gravestone, Beowulf slays the dragon and is in turn slain himself. The best stories end because the destination is as important as the journey itself. Like Bilbo, we come home from the best stories a little older, a little wiser, and with the understanding that it is who we are when standing among good company or playing riddles in the dark that ultimately matters. Be it on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, the journey itself is what's important, and while one story may end we can take comfort in the knowledge that there will be new roads to travel, with new people to meet and new lessons to learn. And that is an encouraging thought.


 Stacy

Dawn of a Dark Tomorrow: Why Caesar's victory was anything but.

 I turned 39 years old this week. That's a chunk of change, to be sure. So like most adults who reach this point in their life, I want to talk about monkeys. Specifically the ending of DAWN OF THE PLANET OF THE APES and what it means for the franchise as a whole. It goes without saying that pretty much everything below this point is SPOILER country, so if you haven't seen the film (and seriously, why is that? I mean, you did see the trailer where a chimpanzee is dual-wielding machine guns whilst riding on horseback, right? RIGHT?), you may want to take the time to check it out. Seriously, both the Apes movies are way better than any of the fly-by-night remakes and revamps of recent years.

 All right? We good? Here we go. Fairly warned be ye:

 The ending of DAWN has Caesar (masterfully played by Andy 'Can This Man Get A Damn Oscar Already' Serkiss) send Malcom (Jason Clarke) on his way, reunited with his people and having defeated Koba(played to extremely disturbing effect by Toby Kebbell). Caesar holds his family close, but you can tell from the look in his eyes that this victory is practically the textbook definition of pyrhrric. We're allowed the moment of 'victory' because of the three-act structure of the film but you can see it in Caesar's eyes. He is absolutely screwed and he knows it.

 Caesar's development over the course of the two Apes films is easily one the franchise's greatest achievements. It would have been all too easy to set him up as a slavering lunatic, rabidly anti-human and plotting for  the complete and total overthrow of humanity from the get-go in the best supervillain tradition. Instead, they let the story build gradually, allowing us to bond with Caesar and the Rodmans as people rather than merely archetypes to get us to the scene of astronauts screaming at the sight of a ruined statue of Liberty. Like any of us Caesar is the product of his environment, he sees both the good and the bad in humanity but it's ultimately the bad that has him take his genetically modified tribe into the wilderness to raise at a safe remove. That humanity is decimated by the coincidental release of a supervirus that brings about the near-total collapse of civilization is something that I think Casear regrets, but not too much. He sees humans as deeply flawed but not an evil to be eradicated. The trouble is he feels that his people are better, that their burgeoning civilization is the superior one. Enter Koba.

 Koba is one seriously twisted individual. He hates humanity with an absolute passion, and here's the most damning thing: he is not entirely wrong. He sufferred brutally at the hands of the scientists at Gen-Sys, his experiences about as close to a 180 degree turn from Caesar's as you can get. I love that in this film, both sides get an equal say, and both have valid points to make. Especially when Koba catches wind that Dreyfuss(Gary Oldman in a solid role) is preparing for war, just in case the Apes decide that they don't want to cooperate. The humans need that electricity, and while Dreyfuss wants Malcom to succeed, he and his people have lost too much too soon to trust the altruism of a species that (for all they know) originated the plague that killed his wife and family. Koba sees this as vindication of all his beliefs about humans: lying, backstabbing, cheating, and murderous. His world view is simple: The Strong control the Weak. Humanity was Monstrous when they were strong. Now Apes are Strong, and the Humans are Weak. The Apes should seize this moment and kill the humans. All of them. And if Caesar can't see this. . .then Caesar has to go. Koba is so blinded by his hatred that he can't see how much he has in common with his enemy. And Caesar is so blinded by his idealism that he can't see how much his people have in common with Humans. It's an amazing character study, one that I remind you is in a film who only really had to deliver the sight of a chimpanzee dual-wielding machine guns on horseback to have my complete approval.

 But the absolute best thing about the film is that it ends on a triumphantly bleak note. Koba may have been defeated and the Apes may have escaped Dreyfuss' suicide gambit, but in that last moment before the credits roll we see in Caesar's eyes that he realizes how absolutely doomed he is. Koba may have died, but in death he achieved exactly what he wanted: a war between humanity and the apes. And we as the viewers know (from previous experience with the franchise) the outcome of that war: Caesar will lead his people to victory over the humans, with humanity becoming the slave caste of a dominant civilization of intelligent primates. Caesar's name will be revered, but it will be as the heroic liberator of apekind from human tyranny. He'll be a figure of religious awe, not a person. And in that moment at the end of the film you can almost see the mantle of that future history settle around his shoulders. It's a great moment of acting from Serkiss and the reason that it's one of my favorite movies to come out this year. A character goes from child to adult to leader to legend. . .in a movie about talking apes.

 Ps. (Seriously, that scene with the machine guns. . .so. Awesome.)

~Stac

Characters I Love: Luke Skywalker.

 Luke: "I'll not leave you here. I've got to save you."

Anakin: "You already have."

 I don't know about the rest of you, but my fandom tends to be cyclical. There will be times in the cycle where you cannot get me to shut up about Doctor Who, or other periods where tabletop roleplaying games are the most important thing ever, but eventually the wheel turns and I find something else to obsess over. It's been that way for as long as I can remember, I've always been the Kid With The Book, the kid who'd sit up late watching VHS tapes of movies seen dozens upon dozens of times before. But certain stories, certain characters, they stay with you. They become part of your own internal architecture, foundation stones that help define who you are and--maybe more importantly--who you'd like to be.

 If there are two pillars to the infrastructure of my psyche one would have to be Superman, of course. I've spoken of my admiration for the Man of Tomorrow elsewhere in the blog, and believe me, I can always say more. He was the hero who I encountered first as a child, and I imprinted on him. But standing beside him, like some colossal duo of statues a la the sequence post-Moria in Fellowship of the Ring, would be the figure of Luke Skywalker. Star Wars has been a part of my life so long it's like discussing an essential element or fundamental force, like water or gravity. But of all the characters, I identify with Luke the most. Why is that?

 Part of it's likely due to the fact that, well, we're all supposed to identify with Luke. He's the viewpoint character in Star Wars (A New Hope if you want to be technical but I'm Old School, so I'm calling it by it's original name), the everyman who leaves the world of his humdrum life and gets caught up in the affairs of droids, Jedi, smugglers, and princesses. He's the embodiment of the Hero of Myth, and given that Joseph Campbell's The Hero With A Thousand Faces was a major source of inspiration for George Lucas, it's not hard to see just how easily Luke fits in with other heroes of yore. Of late though, George seems to have come around to thinking that the six primary Star Wars films are the story of Anakin Skywalker; his fall from grace and redemption over the course of the saga forming its foundation. And while I can agree that a case can be argued for Anakin as the protagonist of the prequel trilogy, and certainly an important figure as Darth Vader in the original three films, I would argue that the hero of Star Wars remains Luke Skywalker. He is the best of a galaxy far, far away.

 I'm an Arthurian fan through and through. I love the stories of chivalry, and the stories of the Knights of the Round Table are some of my favorites (from Thomas Mallory to T.H. White). But that love got its foundation through the Jedi Knights, the Guardians of Peace and Justice in the Old Republic. Note that phrase, it's going to be important later.  The depiction of the Jedi in the original trilogy; this mixture of warrior and wizard, the lightsabers, the notion of using your power for knowledge and defense, never for attack. . .it was all so wonderful.  And then the prequels happened.

 Take it easy, I'm not going after the prequels and I'm not joining in the haterdom. Indulge me for a moment or two and let me explain.

 The Phantom Menace may have its faults (midichlorians and a Jar-Jar Binks that isn't the funny character I laughed at in the underwater craft being among them) but the thing it does have in abundance is Jedi Knights that are absolutely bad. ASS. C'mon, tell me you didn't love that opening sequence as Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi just lay waste the battle droids, storming the command deck of the Trade Federation ship and only being driven away at the last second by the droid equivalent of a tank. That opening was bananas, and I was on the edge of my seat. I loved it to death. The rescue of Queen Amidala, the journey to Tatooine. . .I was hooked. Then we meet Anakin. . .and find out he's a slave. And that the Jedi are aware of this. And it is tolerated. In a universe with the Jedi. The guardians of peace and justice. And yet there are slaves. Guardians of peace and justice. Slavery. You can begin to see the cognitive disconnect here.

 Over the course of the prequels we come to learn that, yes, the Jedi Knights are protectors all right, but they've become so tied into and bogged down by their dealings with the Republic that they've become little more than the enforcement arm of the Supreme Chancellor. They've gotten so used to being seen as Wise and Enlightened and Strong that they've essentially bought into their own hype, to the point that they cannot see what is happening directly in front of them. Its even mentioned in Attack of the Clones that the Jedi Order's ability to use the Force has diminished. The source of their power has found them unworthy. And yet they continue in their belief that their logic and way of thinking is right, to the point that they go into a galactic conflict with an army whose origins are mysterious at best and outright sketchy at worst and a for the cause of . . .what exactly? People wanting to leave a Republic they feel is corrupt? The guardians of peace and justice become the agents of dogma and the status quo. To the point that even after the Jedi Order is gone, Yoda and Obi-Wan are still so locked into that way of thinking that they don't consider just leveling with Luke and telling him the truth. No, they feed him a mixture of half-truths and point him at Vader and the Emperor like a gun. It's all part of their plan, which is to counter Palpatine's plan. There's just one problem.

 Luke Skywalker is a hero.

 From the beginning, Luke's compassion is prevalent. Yeah, he may be a little whiny and a lot green about the gills, but he's concerned for his friends, be they organic or synthetic, and his first thought upon seeing the fragment of Princess Leia's message (beyond the creepy in hindsight attraction) is his notion that he thinks she's in trouble and immediately wants to help. This desire to help others gets a bit bogged own by his sense of duty to his aunt and uncle, but  even when he's trying to turn old Ben down his responses are half-hearted at best. And upon losing the only family he's ever known to the Empire. .that moment where Luke sees their twisted, burnt corpses, looking away before raising his head as the John Williams score swells. . .that moment right there is when Palpatine lost. 

 Everyone loves Han Solo, but the thing of it is, without Luke Han is kind of a scumbag. Luke's earnestness and his desire to help is the impetus that gets the smuggler to begin his slow slide back up the idealism scale from anti-hero to a full-blown, bonafide heroic figure. And when they manage to get away, Han's first impulse? Take the money and go. He's not in this for a principle. He's in it to get paid. He did the job, it's over, moving on. Luke immediately leaps into the rebellion, and his belief that Han is better than he thinks he is allows for one of the most badass Here Comes The Cavalry moments in movie history.

Luke has a fundamental compassion that he simply cannot ignore. What's the impetus that sets him to his disastrous confrontation with Vader? The fact that his friends are in pain. The smart decision, the Proper Jedi decision, would be to accept their suffering as an inescapable truth of the universe and train to be the best weapon he can be in order to defeat Vader and the Emperor. But Luke is a hero, and he goes off anyway, half-trained at best and woefully outmatched. And then, on top of everything, on top of the merciless beating, on top of the sight of his friend frozen in carbonite, on top of the sheer terror of staring down the man who killed your father. . .you find out that the entire basis of your worldview is built on a foundation of lies.

Vader: "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

Luke: "He told me enough. He told me you killed him."

Vader: "No. I am your father."

Luke: "No... No. That's not true. That's impossible!"

Vader: "Search your feelings. You know it to be true."

Luke: "No! No!" 

Imagine it: you have a vision in your mind of the father you never knew. A brave, confident figure who had adventures alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi and fought in the Clone Wars for the cause of all that is right and true. And then you find out that no actually, your father was a murderer, a butcher and monster beyond the darkest nightmares of any sadist. And he wants you to join him. And the people you trusted to help you, to prepare you for the challenges of life as a Jedi. . .they never told you. Moreover, they lied to you. And they expect you to not only accept this "certain point of view", they want you to move forward, be a Proper Jedi, and kill your own father. This is the plan. This is what will work. But again, the last of the old Jedi Order fail to recognize a fundamental fact about their new hope: Luke Skywalker is a hero.

Vader: "The Emperor has been expecting you."

Luke: "I know…father."

Vader: "So, you have accepted the truth?"

Luke: "I've accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father."

Vader: "That name no longer has any meaning for me!"

Luke: "It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten."

 Luke's first thought isn't that he must destroy the monster his father has become. It's the fact that even though Vader has belted him around Bespin like a living pinball, he wants Luke to join him. That there is still a flicker, even a trace of humanity left in this husk of a living thing resonates with Luke, to the point where--flying in the face of all logic--he believes he can redeem the most fearsome killer in the galaxy. And he's right.

  Not only that, Luke is the one to take the ultimate stand against the Emperor, to see the trap of the Dark Side for what it is and to have the sheer guts to throw aside his weapon and state proudly that he is a Jedi, like his father before him, and he will. Not. Submit. That stance, his compassion, and his faith in his friends all allow him to accomplish feats the previous Jedi Order could never conceive. The title of the sixth film has a deeper meaning, the Jedi have returned, but returned as they were meant to be, not what they'd fallen into. A guardian for peace and for justice, embodied in the idealism and compassion of Luke Skywalker.

 And that's why he's my hero.

 ~Stacy

  

Let's Roll Part One: An Introduction OR Every Saga Has A Beginning. . .

 

  Tabletop roleplaying games have been a part of my life for over thirty years now. My first encounter with the medium took place almost by accident at the age of eight. We were visting my friend Owen's house in Fort MacMurray, Alberta and I discovered some orange-spined books featuring monsters on the cover belonging to his father. Being a voracious reader even back then I dove into them, and discovered in short order that this wasn't a traditional book. There was no story, just a collection of monsters, their backstories, and some odd series of numbers I didn't quite understand. This was my first encounter with the Monster Manual of first edition Dungeons & Dragons, detailing everything from goblins and kobolds to Zeus and Great Cthulhu. In the span of what had to have been a few hours visit my fate was sealed forever. Unfortunately, as I was going to Catholic school at the time (an irony not lost upon me today), my grade school self would have to wait a few more years until I could come into my own and discover roleplaying games properly.

 I'm going to assume that a lot of people here are familiar with tabletop RPGs, but on the off-chance you aren't here's the thumbnail sketch: imagine the games you played in childhood (Star Wars, superheroes, GI Joe, or even the traditional Cops & Robbers) carried over into adulthood, but with a formal rule structure based around the outcome of die rolls as final arbiter of certain situations or actions ("I hit you!" "Did not!" "Did too!"). D&D is the most famous example of this, based around fantasy settings a la Lord of the Rings, but there are other mediums too. Science fiction, superheroes, Weird Westerns, Steampunk, Planetary Romance, if it's got a following chances are good there's a system to make it happen.

 My next encounter with tabletop games happened a few years later after I'd moved back to Nova Scotia. Being a nascent geek, I instantly gravitated toward the emerging comicbook stores/games shops that were on the rise in the greater Halifax/Dartmouth area, and one day while at one of these shops, I discovered the volume TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES & OTHER STRANGENESS. Understand, by this point (1988 or 1989, details blur) I was a huge TMNT fan. I had the Mirage trade paperbacks, tolerated the cartoon adaption (which wasn't nearly as cool, but hey, points for robot ninjas and the Technodrome), and the notion that there was a game where I could not only play one of the characters but build my own badass mutated animal hero? Where do I sign?! I also made another discovery that Palladium Games(the company which produced TMNT&OS) also produced the ROBOTECH roleplaying game. I was hooked, and hooked hard.

 Of course, the problem of any RPG  is finding a group with which to play, and in Nova Scotia in the late '80s to early '90s, that was hard for me. My cousin Nathan ran a few Robotech games for myself and my brother, but his heart wasn't really in it. I played a couple more games through junior high and high school, but it never quite took off into a regular campaign.

 And yet I would continually purchase roleplaying games, from the hefty core rulebooks to supplementary tomes. Like the ant in the fable with his friend the grasshopper, I kept hoarding these gamebooks for reasons quite beyond me (and beyond my parents and my own Wallet, to say the least). Even today I'll still buy a games system, though most of them gather dust on my shelf or sit idle in boxes. Why is that?

 I think  it stems back to a couple factors. My family moved around a lot and I was an introverted kid, spending a lot of time inside my own head. These books weren't just collections of stats and figures, they were a window into another world, where I could be more than just The New Kid. On Krynn I could be a Knight of Solamnia, in the Outer Rim I could be a daring smuggler one step ahead of the Empire, or I could be the newest costumed hero to take the fight against evil to the mean streets of Gotham City. They were an escape, and I used them to put myself into places and worlds where I felt more dynamic, more confident, and more together than I did at the time I bought them.

 But a lot of these systems never got played. They sat on shelves and while I enjoyed them, I never partook of them, except for a few online excursions and play by e-mail. Well, that's going to change. This column (which will be released on a more-or-less-regular basis) is going to be me examining the game systems I own. From old favorites to recent purchases, it'll be an effort to understand why I got them, what I hope to gain from them, and maybe even how I'll run them for my friends. At the very least it'll help me put all this spent time (and money) to a productive use. At the very most it'll help me provide you with some insight on game systems you might want to try out for your own amusement. Plus, being in public and making plans about a game forces me to, y'know, actually produce something, which can only help a born procrastinator like yours truly.

 So join me next time as we discuss a game system, why I got it, what's good about it, and whether or not I run it. And if you've got a favorite system you'd like to hear me talk about, comment on the blog and if I own it (I own a bunch, so its probably on my shelf somewhere) I'll be happy to rap about it.

 Until next time,

 Stacy

On happiness.

Happiness.

Tricky word, that.

 Trickier still to encapsulate in the span of a facebook post. I don't like putting such things up and out in public; despite my extroverted persona among friends I'm actually a pretty private person when you come down to it. Still, it was asked of me and I always endeavor to at least try to grant the requests of others, albeit with varying degrees of success.

 There's a great line in a comic book that's stuck with me over the years. It comes from the oft-overlooked-but-still-pretty-good mini-series BATMAN: YEAR TWO. A lost love of Bruce Wayne's comes back into his life and he asks her if she's happy. She replies "I'm content. It's more than most people have."

 Dennis Leary also put it another way, stating that happiness comes in small doses(like a cigarette, a chocolate chip cookie, a five-second orgasm). You smoke the butt, you eat the cookie, you. . .well, y'know. . .and then you go back to work. Happiness is something to be cherished and savored in the moment, because all too often it seems like life has the sole mandated purpose of taking a person with hopes, dreams, and aspirations and ruthlessly grinding their respective faces into a mixture of equal parts gravel and broken glass. We're all adrift on this planet spinning at ludicrous speeds through the black of space. The only certainty in life is that everything is uncertain. That the universe was here long before us and will be here long after us. Everything else is a matter of personal perspective. Happiness is a candle against the darkness, it keeps us going and helps us maintain. Happiness, courtesy, and deceny are the three pillars to getting out of this madcap existence--well, not alive, but at least with some semblance of dignity and sanity intact.

 Here then, in no particular order, are the things that make me happy:

 1) My family. I was born to loving parents, have a sibling who is easily the best friend I will ever have (don't tell him I said so, I'll never hear the end of it), and grew up in a community of relations that--while I don't see near as often as I like--I care about a great deal. There's the old saw about it taking a village to raise a child, I was raised in a community of witty men, strong women, and excellent peers who were and remain a comfort to me in spirit if not always in the flesh. Nova Scotia is in the heart, wherever I go she's always with me, and the family there I love and adore even if I'm not always vocal about it.

 2) My friends. Old, recent, and otherwise. I'm an introverted extrovert by nature; I learned quick as my family moved about the country that if I was the Funny One, people would tolerate me, if not always accept me. Over the years I've made some amazing friends, all of them warm, caring, funny, and giving people who for reasons that perplex me still find time to tolerate a slightly standoffish pop-culture junkie loudmouth. I sometimes become irritable with being made to leave my solitude, but it's at those moments Common Sense tends to smack me upside the head and remind me "Hey, dickhead, these people care about you and want to spend time with you." That tends to put things in perspective.

 3) The Fanboy Power Hour. Something that was started on a whim has actually become a source of pride to me. When we started out I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Now. . .okay, I still really don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I'm proud of the accompishment of not only starting something, but sticking with it for 3 years. It's a labor of love for myself, Ryan, and Cody, and while we may or may not blow up to Smithian or Wheatonian proportions, it's still fun to sit around the table, talk, and laugh with these guys.

 4) Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror fiction. A lot of you never met my cousin Nathan, but you know the impact he had on Ryan and I in a big, bad way. Nathan was my age, but always seemed older somehow, more together. He was a fan of science fiction, fantasy, horror, and hip-hop, and those things have left a lasting impact on my psyche. Nathan helped turn me on to the Dragonlance series, to Heinlein, to Warhammer Fantasy and then straight on to Tolkien. He ran the first roleplaying game I ever played, and we watched ARMY OF DARKNESS in the basement of my aunt and uncle's place and my love of wiseass heroes was forever set in stone. Nathan pointed me to the path that led from being a kid who happened to read science ficiton and fantasy into a fan of such things, into a reader who embraced genre and wasn't afraid to read 'those weird books' as my mother called them(but who never once kept me from reading). Sometimes I sit and wonder what he would have made of today's pop culture landscape. I expect he would have dug it to no end.

 5) Writing. Lately my schedule has been up in the air, but writing is so much a part of the background noise of my life that no matter how much life slings at me, I'm always working on something. The revisions on the novel, the short stories, they're all something I am intensely proud of. Yeah, I'm no John Grisham or Stephen King (hell, I'm not even a John Saul), but you learn something as you go through the motions and sit down to the blank screen or sheet of paper. It isn't about that. That is all extraneous bullshit. Because in that special, sweet spot you hit when the words are moving through you and the scene is spinning out before you and for one brief, flickering moment it doesn't feel like this is a creation of your mind but almost like a window into somewhere else. . .it's a feeling adjectives struggle to convey, but if you've been there, you know it exactly. I may never be anyone of note, but as long as I get to feel that feeling, like I'm fulfilling the function I was made for, in the place where I belong, I'll be a happy man.

 6) Laughter. Being able to make people laugh is something I live for, and being able to joke around with friends is something that helps me maintain. If I'm making someone else laugh, if I'm providing a sliver of joy on a given day, my own worries seem a bit more trivial and a lot more managable.

And there you are. There's other stuff of course (comics, movies, Doctor Who, Babylon 5, Star Trek, Star Wars, etc), but those are the key things. The things I can rely on to make me smile even when the world seems to want to treat me like a disposable commodity, when the darkness is closing in and all reason says that I'm nothing like what I thought I'd be and its far too late in the game to try. When the shadows close in and I feel the old familiar misery trying to settle onto my shoulders, I think of these things. And I get by. Here's hoping you get by too.

 Stacy

Beware The Superman.

I work in IT. Tier one technical support to be precise. If you've ever seen an episode of The IT Crowd or called a toll-free number for help configuring your router you've got a rough idea of what I do. I help with your e-mail, I replace toner cartridges when the ink runs out in the printer. I loan out laptops and mice and ensure they can connect to the Internet if you need to train. Not a horrible career as they go, and it keeps the wolves fed while I do my best to hasten the arrival of my inevitable stardom(which at 37 years old better pick up on the hastening, but that's a whole other story). The point is, I help people. I enjoy helping people, and I like to examine problems and see if there's a solution that can benefit a person or persons in need. I wouldn't have hung on damn near a decade in the business if I didn't derive some satisfaction from it, however distant.

 I enjoy superhero fiction. Superheroes are born problem-solvers. Whether due to training from youth or the empowering light of a yellow sun, superheroes take on challenges and do their best to overcome them in the service of helping others. By no means realistic, but it's fun and it speaks to something in me that responds to the notion of might for right. Of using one's inherent gifts to help. That's got a lot of appeal as a fantasy, just look at the box office numbers lately. The notion of getting past all the red tape and the obstruction and the mistrust and the bullshit and just going out and kicking some ass in the name of what's right has a lot of appeal. The myth of the superhero is an appealing archetype and provides us with both entertainment and an ideal to aspire toward. That's great and I wouldn't change a thing.

 A common trope I see in comics and film is the notion of  "superheroes in the real world" or statements along the lines of "we took great pains to ground this film in reality". This sentiment of taking the iconic heroes of youth and placing them in a setting like our contemporary world had an initial appeal in my youth (I remember years past being stoked beyond words at how badass the 1989 Batman film had made the Dark Knight in terms of his mainstream appeal) but as I've grown older it's become more and more problematic to me. You could argue it's age and seeing the past through rose-coloured glasses, or a desire to keep my childhood icons from being forced from the idyllic realm of Good versus Evil and into the gray morass of the world outside my window, but I think the reason is inherently tied in to my experience in IT. There's really a simple reason why we all should be extremely grateful that superheroes don't exist in the real world.

They would go completely and irrevocably insane.

 Day after day, I deal with easily same problems (or variations on the theme). Helping people who run the gamut in terms of personality and technical ability. And for the most part they're wonderful people. Who invariably experience similar problems. Over and over and over and over. . .the stress can build on a body. It's definitely built on mine. Hell, in 2004 when I started working in the business I had hair. And it was brown. Now the few battered enclaves of follicles left on my head are brown turning gray. There have been moments when I have felt intensely happy to have helped out. . .and moments when I've cheerfully thought about taking a Louisville slugger to the nearest workstation and continue until every last vile glowing box has been smashed to bits.

 I've been reading Boom Studios' IRREDEEMABLE, Mark Waid's brilliant deconstruction of the superhero and his place in the world, and it's nothing short of breathtaking in just how low one hero can sink after years of letting that pressure build until it finally erupts. Superheroes are comforting enough on the page because within the universes created for them they can make a difference and the challenges they face are so often are external threats. But what happens when it's just the simple act of having to deal with the same level of crisis day after day after day without respite? Constantly hearing cries for help with your super-hearing and never getting a moment's peace? Or of being completely impervious to pain but a simple caress of a hand in your hair would cut a potential partner's hand to ribbons? And the worst bit, the absolute worst, is being able to discern the naysayers and critics even when 95% of the people love you. Because we all do it really; no matter how much praise we receive we invariably focus like a laser pointer on the negative.

 Imagine the worst day you have ever had. He dumped you. You lost your job. You got cheated out of that promotion. You get raked over the coals for something you didn't do. Imagine all of that, all of it. . .and then imagine you could shoot lasers from your eyes. Imagine you could flip a tank with one hand. Imagine you can crush coal into diamond. You're a nice enough person, so of course you help out as best you can but it just never stops, does it? There's always someone else to save, some other disaster to halt, another kitten in a tree and it just keeps going. It's not like a regular job where you at least get to take a break while someone else can spot you, is it? And what recompense do you get other than a pat on the back and a smile? Imagine being on-call twenty-four seven for these ungrateful little shits who constantly need, need, NEED--

 Ahem.

 Lord Acton once wrote "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." In a fantasy, we know that the hero is true and just and good because for the most part that's how the writer envisioned him. Superheroes work brilliantly when they're fighting to save the world in a universe of jet packs, aliens, talking gorillas, and time travel. In reality, superheroes would be people. And people never handle power well. Much like salt, realism is best used sparingly, to enhance the flavor of a dish. Dump it on wholesale and the taste is ruined. I hope that the upcoming release of MAN OF STEEL strikes that balance.

 In the meantime, I'll enjoy superheroes in comics as they fight in a universe that understands and supports their efforts, while at the same time doing my best to use the gifts I've been given to fight the good fight. And if a radioactive spider or dying alien should offer me a nibble or a powerful knickknack, I'll just say no. Probably best for all of us that way.

 ~Stac

In Defense of (the New) Captain James T. Kirk.

  In my recent internet wanderings, I came across an article online that piqued my interest and got me thinking. While I'd originally intended to respond to the article on the Facebook group upon which it first appeared, I thought this might be a better venue to put forth my argument (and hey, it's been a while since I posted anything around here). So here, in brief, is my counter-point:

With respect to Mr. Womack, who's clearly done his homework, I respectifully disagree. While I concede that the Jim Kirk of NuTrek isn't the same as the one from the original series, consider the circumstances by which they come to their respective stations.

The Jim Kirk of the primary timeline is one who was raised by loving parents, who bore witness to the massacre on Tarsus IV orchestrated by Governor Kodos. The young man who enrolled in Starfleet Academy far earlier, buckled down and became known as the single dullest student there. The Kirk of the Abrams films is not the young man who was in attendance at the peace conference on Axanar, but he does share the rebellious streak that prompted both men to cheat the Kobayashi Maru scenario out of a stubborn refusal to accept a no-win scenario. The Kirk who would go on to be humbled by the cloud creature on Tycho IV as two hundred of the Farragut's crew died is a man forged by years of experience to become the youngest captain of a Federation starship at the age of thirty.

  But by that same token the NuTrek Kirk is a different man in his own right. A man who grew up in the shadow of a father he barely knew, raised by an (apparently) emotionally distant mother and an abusive stepfather. A young man who grew up brilliant but angry at the world, who lacked the focus and direction he so desperately needed until meeting Christopher Pike and being flat-out called on his own bullshit. A Kirk who took the challenges of the Academy and met them and (over the course of years in my mind as there's no way you go from cadet to Captain in three weeks like the first NuTrek seems to imply, I'll grant you that) received the opportunity of a lifetime and became the youngest Captain in starfleet, and moreover captain of the flagship of the Federation. He's arrogant at times and cocky, very much not the Kirk of the primary timeline because -that Kirk had nothing to prove-. NuKirk adopts the veneer of being too cool for school as a defensive shield, to keep people back. Keep moving, keep up the bluff, and don't ever let people see a moment's weakness that can be preyed upon. This Kirk grew up with a chip on his shoulder easily the size of a small moon.

 The classic Star Trek had the luxury of a 45-minute format to tell the story it needed to tell, whereas with the Star Trek films of the current day we have two and a half hours at most to build an entirely new universe from scratch. The mandate of the Abrams films is entertainment with a humanist twist, and while we could explore themes of madness, the use of power, and humanity's place in the universe in the classic series, this new universe hasn't even had a chance to launch into the five-year mission proper. They're dealing with the aftermath of having the table completely flipped by Nero in the first film, of a Federation that is struggling to hold onto those high ideals in the face of a new and uncertain universe. Yeah, it's great that in the future humanity has gotten its collective sh!t together and we're going out into space to explore, but there's every chance that the people we're going to meet aren't going to be nearly so enlightened. That they will, in fact, try to kill us and threaten our entire way of life. It's the Roddenberryian (yes that's totally a word its in the becktionary) ideal slams into the reality of a world where we see the almost daily clash of differing cultures. The character of Admiral Marcus from Into Darkness may be an asshat. . .but he's not entirely without a point either.

 And yet it's through the actions of men like Kirk (Classic or New) that we learn to take on those challenges, to find the way to win even if it means changing the game completely. The theme of Into Darkness was hubris and its consequence: NuKirk had basically been all but told by SpockClassic and Nero that he's going to be a captain of some renown in the future, and he'd gotten a bit full of himself, confident in his own future legend. The humility he earned over the course of the film sets him up to be a Kirk who's an acceptable mix of both universes, at least from where I sit. A Han Solo in terms of confidence and ability but with a Luke Skywalker head on his shoulders. This Kirk has a lot more to learn than his primary timeline counterpart, but he has the same potential and it shines through over the course of the films.

  Just my $0.02.

 ~Stac