Perverse Osmosis

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Bad, bad maths

August 24th, 2015

I recently picked up a copy of the blue cover Dungeons and Dragons rule book (1977). In amongst all of the rules that made it into the Dungeon Master’s Guide and those that didn’t, I found this odd proofreading error:

I am unsure what alternate dimension to exist in where rolling 2 20-sided dice would be a useful percentage roll, but I am sure there is one out there somewhere.

In TSR’s defense, they had no idea that they would ever become popular enough for people to care about editing 38 years after the fact.

I want to be a hippie

August 18th, 2015

At a 4/20 show, Perverse Osmosis played our take of this song. While listening to Bad Song radio today, I found another very special version:

Music!

Howard Days

August 5th, 2015

I know I attended this event more than a month ago, but turns move quickly on the prime material plane, and I am only now getting around the uploading the images from the event.

For example, Howard’s house:

Notice the fancy sign out front. More of these and fewer do-nothing nukes, I tells ya.

Another view of the entire building.


[As always, clicking to view image will allow the peepers to see the house in its extended glory].

More to come.

People of the Black Circle

July 26th, 2015

Lots going on in this Conan piece; it reads like Howard has figured out how to maintain a plot thread that doesn’t have Conan in it, and I can imagine that is a great leap forward for members of the writing craft.

My craft: finding body counts in Conan stories but only the ones Conan slices and dices. I can’t go counting every Viscount and 3rd-level magician who manages to hit a guard with magic missile.

She glimpsed the flicker of steel, heard the lightning crack of stroke, parry and counterstroke, and the crunch of bone as Conan’s long knife split the other’s skull.

He split the man’s skull–ducked another swinging knife and gutted the wielder–felled a man with his left fist and stabbed another in the belly–and heaved back mightily against the closed door with his shoulders.

Four headless golden serpents still coiled about the altar, but no alien life now animated the dully gleaming metal.

As he hit, he yelled like a wolf, caught a gold-worked rein, and dodging the sweep of a scimitar, drove his long knife upward through the rider’s vitals.

As he hacked and smote like a man possessed, Conan had time for some chilling doubts – would Yasmina keep her word

As it dropped, its black wings thrashing the air, it took on the semblance, not of a bird, but of a black-robed human body that fell, arms in wide black sleeves thrown abroad.

 

Total carnage:
2 hillmen [2*14XP= 28XP]
4 8th-level magic users [4*650 XP=2600XP]
1 2nd-level fighter [32 XP]
Undetermined hacked and smote [300 XP]
1 12th-level magic user [1700 XP]

Queen of the Black Coast

July 5th, 2015

I am a little out of order here, but there are not many better ways to declare a George Lippard weekend than “Queen.” Excellent female character, great Conan philosophy, sexy dancing, lotus drugging: what more could a pulp audience want?

“So then, seeing they were all mad, I drew my sword and cleft the judge’s skull; then I cut my way out of the court, and seeing the high constable’s stallion tied near by, I rode for the wharfs, where I thought to find a ship bound for foreign parts.”

Conan drew the shaft to his ear—then some whim or qualm stayed his hand and sent the arrow through the body of a tall plumed spearman beside her.

On the deck of the pirate lay half a dozen bodies, an earnest of Conan’s archery.

A tall corsair, bounding over the rail, was met in midair by the Cimmerian’s great sword, which sheared him cleanly through the torso, so that his body fell one way and his legs another. Then, with a burst of fury that left a heap of mangled corpses along the gunwales, Conan was over the rail and on the deck of the Tigress.

The fighting- madness of his race was upon him, and with a red mist of unreasoning fury wavering before his blazing eyes, he cleft skulls, smashed breasts, severed limbs, ripped out entrails, and littered the deck like a shambles with a ghastly harvest of brains and blood.

With his skin crawling with the horror that madness always instils in the sane, Conan passed his sword through the black man’s body; then, avoiding the hooked hands that clawed at him as N’Gora sank down, he strode to the edge of the cliff.

In his berserk fury he did not miss; the air was filled with feathered destruction. The havoc wrought among the onrushing pack was breathtaking. Less than half of them reached the foot of the pyramid.

His fiercely driven sword shore the first asunder; then the desperate impact of the others bore him down. He crushed a narrow skull with the pommel of his hilt, feeling the bone splinter and blood and brains gush over his hand;

One, blood gushing from its torn jugular, lunged at him in a last spasm of ferocity, and fastened its fangs on his throat—to fall back dead, even as Conan felt the tearing agony of its grip.

An instant he reeled off balance, its fetid breath hot on his nostrils; its jaws snapping at his neck; then he hurled it from him, to crash with bone-splintering force down the marble steps.

The thews started out like cords on his forearms as he swung his great sword, pivoting on his heel with the force of the sweeping arc. Just above the hips it caught the hurtling shape, and the knotted legs fell one way, the torso another as the blade sheared clear through its hairy body.

Total carnage:

1 judge: 130 XP

3 assorted bailiffs: 90 XP

1 spearman: 8 XP

12 pirates: 130 XP

1 friendly sub-commander: 13 XP

20 hyenas: 900 XP

1 type 3 demon: 3100 XP