First story in my "Howard and Lovecraft. Timeless horror through ages undreamt of." series. Starting off in WWI

Prologue

Thunder clouds loomed overhead like the wrath of an angry God as elements of the 8th Brigade, Charlie Company entered the remains of the French village of Rouseaux near Thiaucourt. If it weren't for their pocket watches, the platoon would not have known that it was well past dawn on that dark September morning. Droplets of rain began to fall as a somber prologue of the torrent that was about to follow. It was almost as if heaven openly wept for the young dead that blanketed the soil of the western front. It would be worse at Verdun.

The dozen or so buildings that made up this small village were all but destroyed. Flashes of lighting would backlight the remains and for an instant the silhouette of the village itself appeared to mimic the form of a rotting corpse by the side of a road. The buildings were shattered and burned by artillery, the smell of death and remnants of mustard gas filled the air. Most striking of all was the silence.  Only the soft pitter pat sounds of rain and the distant roar of thunder filled the air.  For the doughboys of Charlie Company who have heard nothing but the constant cacophony of bitter warfare for the past few long and brutal days the silence and calm was eerie and disquieting.

The men of Charlie Company moved slowly into what remained at the village square. The past few days had instilled a healthy and life preserving dose of paranoia. The church bell tower was the only part of the building still intact. A strange iron crucifix made of serpents topped the tower and was suddenly struck by lightning as the rain began to fall in earnest. Nothing but the rain moved. Almost as if the moment was framed and hanging on some lonesome wall.

Suddenly the moment broke as a young soldier pointed out a single figure moving in the darkness. Instantly, rifles came to bear and tension filled the air. The figure was small and moved clumsily. The young private who spotted the figure first spit out his soaked cigarette and motioned for the men to stand down. Rifles were still up but slightly lowered. The young solder moved tentatively towards the small form and shouted back, “It’s ok fellas it’s a little kid!”

The private pulled out a Hershey’s bar from his pack. Those were like gold out there. He slowly unwrapped the candy and showed it to the young girl.  As she stumbled forward the young man noticed how pale she was.  He then noticed how her features looked bloated and distended almost as if she been stung by a giant insect. They both walked towards each other arms spread for an impending embrace. Suddenly the American’s smile changed to a look of unspeakable horror as the young girls mouth opened unnaturally wide to expose the head of a giant Adder. The thing sprung fourth and bit the dumb stricken soldier in the eye as he screamed in terror.  The girl thing then leapt on the fallen doughboy’s body as her hands split into multiple serpent heads which repeatedly ripped at their victim’s green uniform leaving blood and venom soaked wounds. The soldiers body began to spasm and convulse then suddenly lie still.

The platoon was initially too shocked to act, but soon at least one of the men got his wits about him and the loud retort of a carbine broke the spell.  Then all the men began to break loose with their weapons shooting at the atrocious wolf in sheep’s clothing. Round after round exploded into the girl’s body as chunks of her flesh ripped away and her head careened and fell back at a right angle to the rest of her body.  It seemed like the corpse was still, but the men were still too horrified to inspect the remains of the thing and their friend. Lucky thing since the corpse of the young girl exploded into a flood of writhing serpents that lashed out and spit at the shadows about them before they slowly began to slither away.

Strange things are afoot in Thiaucourt

My story begins after Pershing and Patton secured the St. Mihiel Salient and began to regroup.  The player characters will be a group of American soldiers from the 8th brigade who are tasked with scouting out the outlying villages of Vigneulles, Thiaucourt and Hannonville-sous-les-Cotes. These characters can link up with stranded airmen and tank crews who are working their way back to the lines at St. Mihiel.  There are also possibilities for French and surrendered German PC’s as well.

The Story

Before you read on, please consult my previous blog entry on the concept behind these stories so that you can better understand the meta-plot. These stories are linked by its primary antagonist, Yig (the father of serpents). In this installment, the German army stumbles upon an ancient pre-gaelic cult to Yig that had secretly survived countless generations in rural France. Elements of German infantry enter a small village and stumble upon the cult of Yig which use their connection to the ancient being to protect themselves. The German soldiers are horrified by things from beyond the outer dark and end up using artillery and mustard gas to destroy the serpents and ultimately themselves. The destruction of his minions angers Yig, who then protects the area around his hidden shrine from further intrusion.  When the player characters come to investigate the town and rescue any French citizens that may be hidden amongst the rubble they fall into the clutches of an angry Yig!

The player character’s souls are forever involved in a cosmic struggle against Yig and this is yet another chapter in this epic struggle. I will have a large platoon of NPC soldiers accompanying the PC’s to provide some "death and disappearances of friendlies" moments to intensify the horror. In fact they may have to fight their own fallen compatriots! You can probably tell this is going to be a horror/survival and investigation game, but then again most Lovecraft style games involve those elements.

The main manifestations of Yig are going to be:

Snake Corpses: Yig commands his serpent minions to infest the corpses of the fallen. These bloated creatures are basically zombie like monsters that are filled with snakes that give the corpse mobility and articulation. When destroyed these creatures burst open and release their serpent infestation. There are three main types: soldier, initiated and villager.  The soldiers are the corpses of fallen German soldiers and have the benefit of the soldier’s weapons and tools. That’s right, zombies that shoot mausers. The initiated are the corpses of the fallen cultists that have been resurrected in part by their serpent infestation. They are tougher, have magical edges and retain most of their human intelligence. The last form is infested villagers who are more of your traditional zombie type, but have a nasty poison attack as their hands are made up of venomous serpent heads.

Serpent Men: Underneath the shrine of Yig is a passageway to the underground civilization of the Serpent Men. When the PC’s discover the shrine and try to destroy it, these creatures will come forth to defend it. These creatures are similar in description to the serpent men of the Kull setting.

In between fighting off these monsters, the PC’s must uncover the cult in the town by investigating the ruins.  The church has a strange wrought iron cross made of intertwined serpents. A cellar is filled with strange books and idols. The players can also capture and interrogate an initiated to gather information.  They have to do that at their own risk since they will have hypnotism powers.

Ultimately, they must find out two crucial bits of information. First, they have to find out that the shrine to Yig is his gateway to this world. Second, they must destroy the shrine or Yig will fully waken manifest an army of the slain to conquer the world.

First American Offensive at St. Mihiel Salient (WW I)

Background History. You can skip over the italics part if you aren't at all interested in the military history, but I am setting this story during real life historical events!

“The Battle of St. Mihiel (12th - 16th September 1918) was the first large-scale, separate offensive by American forces on the Western Front. By late summer 1918 the strategic importance of the German-held salient south of Verdun had was not so prominent as it was in 1917, when the newly arrived American Staff officers arrived on the Western Front. Their desire at that time was to carry out a separate offensive by American forces against the danger posed by this salient. Marshal Foch, commander of the Allied forces on the Western Front in late 1918, had to be convinced it was still relevant to make the attack. He did agree, although he was also wishing to use the American forces for an assault west of Verdun in the Meuse-Argonne sector. 

The German forces were in the process of evacuating the salient when the American First Army attacked them, supported by French tanks and artillery and 600 Allied aircraft. The offensive successfully cleared the Germans from the salient and 15,000 German prisoners were captured with 250 guns. A few days later the American First Army transferred to the Meuse-Argonne sector in preparation for an attack.

South-east of Verdun the Front Lines were positioned along a ridge of high ground on the hills east of the Meuse river as far as the town of St. Mihiel. The town is located in the Department of Meuse in Lorraine. It was captured by the German Army in the first weeks of the war. At St. Mihiel the Front Lines turned at a 90 degree angle in an easterly direction across the low lying hills from the eastern Meuse river bank into the plain of the Moselle River. This created the bulge of a salient held by the German Army, protruding into the French-held territory. The battle area became known as the St. Mihiel Salient. In September 1918 the United States Expeditionary Force launched an offensive to break through the German line at St. Mihiel.

The Front Line on the ridge, fiercely defended by the German Army, protected the views to its rear over the German occupied territory of Lorraine and the Imperial German border, which was approximately 30 miles (48 kilometres) east of St. Mihiel.

The weather corps of Corps I Operation Order stated: "Visibility: Heavy driving wind and rain during parts of day and night. Roads: Very muddy." This would pose a challenge to the Americans when the order to advance was given. In some parts of the road, the men were almost knee-deep in mud and water. After five days of rain, the ground was nearly impassible to both the American tanks and infantry. Many of the tanks were wrecked with water leakage into the engine, while others would get stuck in mud flows. Some of the infantrymen developed early stages of trench foot, even before the trenches were dug.

Several towns in France were never rebuilt after WWI because of the fact that the towns were so thoroughly destroyed by heavy shelling and were so littered with unexploded munitions that they were labeled unsafe.”

Howard and Lovecraft. Timeless horror through ages undreamt of.

If I were asked to list my favorite authors, there are two that would top my list; Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft. That probably says a lot about the kind of adventures I like to read and stories I like to tell, but this has been an almost lifelong passion for me. Luckily, I am not alone.  Roleplaying games set in the worlds of these two authors have been plentiful and I for one have taken advantage of these opportunities to live in and create stories of high adventure and bone chilling horror.

As many of you may know, Howard and Lovecraft were not only contemporaries, but also friends and penpals.  They would correspond often about their projects and at times would incorporate each other’s ideas into their own works. Elements of what became known as Lovecraft’s “Mythos” or the “Cuthulu Mythos” appeared in several of Howard’s works.  Most notably, Howard’s Kull setting seemed to be tied into Lovecraft’s world of cosmic horror.

My love for these authors has, of course spilled over into my gaming life.  I have run games using the now defunct Conan RPG from Mongoose Games, spun yarns of high adventure using the Savage World of Solomon Kane and have played in several Chaosium Cuthulu games.  Solomon Kane was my first Savage Worlds style game and I particularly enjoyed the simple mechanic of the game, how it rewarded heroic narrative play and how it could be applied to multiple genres.

Open license systems and generic RPG systems have quickly become the norm rather than the exception.  In the olden days, GURPS was pretty much the best thing you had to work with for a DYI RPG. When third edition Dungeons and Dragons opened the flood gates of open license, it paved the way for products like Savage Worlds and the much anticipated Fate Core to set free the imaginations of storytellers everywhere. It’s a great time for people to be creative in RPG’s. Systems design is beginning to lean more heavily on story elements and less on physics. At this point, just about any world imaginable is open to anyone willing to put pen to paper and share stories with friends.

Enamored by the idea of using Savage Worlds for a game based on Howard’s Kull setting I stumbled across an idea. How about running a game that spans Kull, Conan, Solomon Kane and the classic turn of the century Mythos setting? There were several elements that I could use to tie a thread along all of these settings. Almost immediately I thought of the Serpent Men of Kull, the cult of Set in Conan and the monstrous Yig of the Lovecraft’s Mythos.

I started digging.  I re-read “The Nameless City”, all of my Kull Anthology, “The Haunter in the Dark”, dug up my “Children of Yig” Chaoseum supplement and even went through my Savage Sword of Conan anthologies for research and inspiration.  All the pieces began to fit together for me, but I had to come up with a framework that would put characters together that would sweep thousands of years of history and horror.

When leafing through the Savage World of Solomon Kane book I became intrigued with one of the basic concepts of the game.  Characters in this game were all supposed to have met Kane at some point and been inspired by him to become travelling pilgrims of justice.  You would play a person who didn’t necessarily come from the noblest of backgrounds but became a hero to beat back the darkness. In essence they were colored by their adventure with Kane and forever after be locked in a struggle between the light and the dark.

Pondering this, I began to imagine how dark and horrible things would seek out those who would meddle in their cosmic affairs. I was already beginning to craft an image for my game and pictured the following:

I awoke in a cave. It was totally dark except for the flickering flames of a small and dying campfire. A recess in the wall partially obscured what appeared to me at first to be a gargoyle figure. As I began to search for my sword or pistol, finding neither, my eyes began to focus. It became apparent that before me was in fact the figure of old and decrepit man, whose countenance was made more dramatic by the sinister shadows of the dim campfire light.  His wispy beard hung off his withered and worn face like moss off a twisted oak. All he bore upon his small and fragile frame was a filthy turban and woolen loin cloth, bare-chested and unshod.  The man’s eyes were set deep into the recesses of his emaciated skull as the light from the fire danced upon the large black orbs which stared unblinking at my prone form. If he noticed me stirring, I would have never known since he sat there on his haunches, immobile as the guardian statues of gothic architecture whose image his form had conjured upon my semi-conscious imagination.

“Ahh, Christian man. You waken?” He said with a cackle.

Once he called me Christian man I instinctively reached for the Anglican Cross medallion that had been of such comfort to me here in this heathen land. I was glad to find it still there dangling from my neck on its thick silver chain.

“Be not afraid”, said the small creature as he began to shuffle around reaching for something in the fire. “We are all creatures of the God of Abraham.”

He drew a skewer from the fire.  Upon it seemed to be the charred carcass of some rodent or lizard, it was hard to tell in the dim light and I had the feeling that even if I could see it clearly I would not be able to identify the piece of carbon as anything similar to the creatures original form.

“Eat! I have made this for us. Food is scarce here in the desert and you will need your strength, yes?” The old man’s eyes never shifted as he shook the skewer in my general direction. How could I have come to be in the company of an old blind hermit in the middle of the Arabian Desert? I strained to call up the memory of the events that lead me to this place.

I remembered being stirred from my sleep in the middle of the night.  I also remembered hearing horsemen and the screams of battle.  The faint recollection of arming myself with saber and pistol, stumbling out of my tent to see the camp was being attacked by cloaked figures on black stallions. The dull throb and massive knot at the back of my head told the rest of the tale.

“Not to seem ungrateful for your hospitality sir, but you have me at a grave disadvantage. I am afraid that I have no recollection as to how I came to be here in your company, where I  am nor who you are. Before I accept your, ummm generous offer to dine with you, I must insist upon some exposition as to my situation.” Even though my situation seemed somewhat dire, there was no reason to be anything but gentlemanly, at least until I could find out where I stood. After all, for all I knew this man had saved my life and for little reason other than pure charity.

“What is past is past. You are here now and safe. Better than your friends. Many of them are dead now and those who still live would probably wish to be dead or have had their minds shattered by what they have seen from the Dark Riders.  I came upon you, I could only drag one away.” He shrugged as if he was telling me that the milk has spoiled.

“Dragged me away? I weigh a good 220 pounds sir, you look as if you could hardly lift a quill much less a fighting man!” I retorted incredulously.

The old hermit cackled again, this time at full voice.  The sound of it was something reminiscent of a murder of crows. “Judge me how you will ‘fighting man’, but none the less you are here and you will find no-one else for leagues. Now eat.  If you are to survive the next step of your journey, you will need your strength and wits about you.”

I took the charred stick of meat from him and ate. Although this may well all be some sort of dream, my hunger was real enough.

“This is no dream Christian man, more nightmare.” the hermits sinister tone was amplified by the fact that he had seemingly pulled my thoughts from my very mind. I had had enough! I stood to my full height and balled my hands into fists.

“I have no mind for games creature!  You will tell me who you are and what has come to pass and you will do it now or so help me I will thrash you!” My head was hot and my chest beat like a Zulu drum.

The small creature at my feet did not cower. It seemed disinterested in my demands and even less impressed with my theatrics. “Men from your world are always quick to anger at that which they do not understand. Be still and quiet and I will tell you what has happened to you and if it is the will of Allah, you will survive your encounter with me and the Dark Riders.”  He looked up with his empty eyes and stared into mine. I felt cold for a moment.  I shivered like a child coming to grips with his first understanding of mortality. I felt ashamed as my rage washed away from me like a tile roof sheds the summer rain.

“Your people were taken to be sacrificed to the Crimson Spires, by dark servants of an ancient evil. It is not wise to wander this desert, not even be Bedouin travel through here.  I am surprised you could find guides to lead you into these sands. Your people are doomed.  Tomorrow I will give you what water you can carry and point you in the direction of the nearest oasis.  There you will be found by a caravan within a few days and lead to safety.” The hermits tone was very matter of fact. Almost as if he were telling a story of events that took place years ago.

I sat there for a moment and began to absorb the reality of what I have just been told. We had been a group of near one hundred men escorting Sir Reginald’s expedition to some sort of ancient city that was rumored to be buried in the sands somewhere out in this god forsaken country. We were armed with musket, pistol and sabre, veterans all.

Unconsciously, I found more branches of some sort of desert plant to feed to the fire.  My mind was numb at the realization that I would never see my compatriots again.

“You said that some of my people may still be alive?” I asked as I fed more fuel into the fire.

“Mmm. Yes, some still live and some may still be sane, but before the dawn they will all be gone. Impaled upon the spires, their blood feeding the beast below.” The old man began to idly play with the embers in the fire.

“How many of these men… these Dark Riders are there?” I began to formulate hopes of orchestrating a rescue. I was fairly sure that I could not live out the rest of my days in the knowledge that I had abandoned my fellows to such a ghastly and horrid fate.

“There are three things I will say in reply to that question.  First, they are not men.  They come from a time before men rose from apedom. Secondly, it does not matter how many since to face them will be certain doom.  Lastly, since I know that you will not be deterred from this path now that it has blossomed in your chest I must warn you.”

“These things that have crawled their way up from the pit do not act on their own accord. Their masters are dark beings beyond human imagining.  More ancient than the earth itself and ultimately evil. If you choose to act against them or deny them in any way it will put a mark on your soul. Their unblinking eyes will be upon you for all eternity and you will never escape their gaze. Cursed you will be and bound to a struggle that has lasted since before Allah breathed life into the world. There is no way for you, a mortal man to understand the gravity of what I am telling you, but beware before you make your choice. The cost will be excised not only from this flesh but of the flesh that will carry all the forms of you before and after.”

Suddenly I found myself outside under the twinkling lights of alien stars. My pistol in one hand and my sabre in the other.  Below me was a chasm. In the center of that pit, were crimson spires towering from the ground like the bones of an ancient beast. Figures climbed narrow ladders bearing horrible loads.  Writhing upon these men’s shoulders were sacrifices that were next to be impaled upon these spires.  Row upon row of impaled bodies slid their way down towards the sands each one's path lubricated by the blood and offal of the poor victim before them. The screams of the terrified and the wailing of the insane bounced off the walls in a macabre cacophony that will haunt me even after death.

I examined my sword and newly etched upon its blade was the figure of a Phoenix.

So the basic idea is that once you meddle in the dealings of ancient and unspeakable horrors, your soul is marked by the intervention and throughout all time, you will constantly find yourself in conflict with those forces.  In essence you embroil yourself into an eternal war, doomed to come in contact with that horror over and over through the spans of time.

Each character takes the role of one of these poor souls. That opens up the ability to tell stories during the time of Kull, Conan, Solomon Kane, classic Cuthulu etc. because the players will have characters with incarnation in any era that suits the story. The game will be run in Savage Worlds universally throughout, but each era will have unique Hindrances and Edges for each setting.

I plan on creating a larger scale metaplot that will bring all the stories together but not necessarily every story element will contribute to this plot. 

This creates a unique opportunity to bounce around settings in one story and gives the players the unique opportunity to create different incarnations or interpretations on the same character.

 I will post with developments as I start building each era's Savage Worlds incarnation.