What Shelob Taught Me

*THE TWO TOWERS BOOK SPOILERS HEREIN*

A friend (Faylor's player) had just finished J.R.R. Tolkien's The Two Towers and expressed that the reason the book is so fulfilling is because it satisfies a desire for both "high" and "low level" adventure. I thought for a while about what he meant -- the more I did, the more I agreed with him. 

Whenever I witness a particularly mighty character in fiction my first question always is, 'how did he/she get that way?' In one chapter of The Two Towers readers witness powerful heroes capable of dreadful slaughter. But the reader witnesses the separate and pitiable trudge of the remaining fellowship in the very next chapter. But most interesting to me, is the transition or 'leveling' the hobbits undergo.

I've been thinking about how Tolkien's telling of Sam's battle against Shelob informed the original designs of Gygax and Arneson. The hobbits are 'low level' in comparison to the rest of the fellowship. As such they must rely more on guile than force to accomplish their goals. Sneaking past a few orcs is a feat, but slaying a monster as vile as Shelob is an altogether more epic challenge. Such would take much grit and careful cunning.

Perhaps this is why 'magic items' have become such a staple in most iterations of the classic game. The 'Phial of Galadriel' as well as the elven forged 'Sting' are essential to Sam's survival against the psuedo-mythic spider-demon, Shelob. Even a hobbit of Sam's resolve couldn't survive against such a threat without the aid of supernatural means. And though victorious, the battle left Sam exhausted to his absolute capacity in enemy territory.

Both in DnD and LotR, magic items don't substitute hard-won experience. But they do provide the necessary edge to perhaps offer survival in an otherwise impossible encounter. Because all low level encounters are potentially lethal, every decision must be made with the absolute strategic proficiency to prevent untimely character deaths.

Because magic is limited in LotR as it is in DnD -- low level players/ characters are desperate for creative solutions. Sam's seemingly counter-intuitive assault from beneath was just the unexpected strategy he needed to wound the beast. In all likelihood Sam would have been killed had he not eventually driven the beast away with the elvish phial's light.

Oddly the turning of Shelob seemed akin to the DnD cleric's 'turn undead' ability. And yet arguably Sam's first strike is comparable to a thief's 'sneak attack.' Of course, as treasure equates experience, perhaps it's not quite fair to rate Sam and Frodo as low level.

Indeed both have remarkable elvish gifts as well as the Ring of Power. But even if Tolkien's texts dont seamlessly translate into the DnD experience,  the influence is sufficient enough that I personally enjoy 'low level' DnD more than the advanced levels. For me, low level character-growth is more palpable and satisfying.

Post Apocalyptic Pictures

Millenarianism fascinates me. Sine Nomine publishes Stars Without Number, undoubtedly one of my favorite science fiction RPG's. So I'm confident Sine Nomine's upcoming post-apocalyptic Other Dust will impress.

When I hear "Post/Apocalyptic" I first think of Revelation, Cormac McCarthy's The Road, or Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead. But for whatever reason, I also picture ruined barns and ruined boats; images I find oddly alluring. I'm sure this reflects the time I've spent in south shore Ma and in upstate Ny. So I've done some scrounging to find the images that speak to my end-of-times nightmares.

This image is just one of many midwestern 'abandoned places' photographs Tau Zero features:

This one is perhaps my favorite photograph from Tau Zero:

This last one isn't anywhere near me either, but it gets the idea across. Find it with the rest of it's gallery at I09.

Call of Cthulhu: New World Colonists

After my pal and I watched the Black Goat short film he suggested I run a historical game about the Roanoke colony. While I'm not sure the campaign will be about Roanoke exactly, the game will take place sometime during the 16th-century and focus on the colonial experience.

I expect a rather different tone to emerge in this game than a classic 1920's/30's era CoC scenario.  Though the Age of Exploration is so removed from Lovecraft's 1920's and 30's, the Cthulhu mythos seem particularly suited to the mysteries lying in wait behind the veil of discovery in the New World.

The Age of Exploration evokes desperation and tested-faith particularly well. The benefit of operating outside of a Lovecraftian purist setting is that I feel more comfortable experimenting. Specifically this game will emphasize survival horror elements more than the traditional CoC session might.

CoC is an investigation and horror game. Adding a survivalist edge will take some research on my part. In New World Colonists, maintaining ones scarce resources, shelter, and warmth are sufficient distractions to keep most from questioning the uncanny. The survival component of this game applies just as much to the cold in pathless woods as it does to horrors from deep space.

Technology is also a significant consideration. Firearms are slow and unwieldy, light requires oil or wood, and medicine cannot alleviate some of the malady's modern science solves with a few pills. But perhaps the most interesting element of this game will be the developing relationship players will make with the indigenous peoples.

Cult of Aois II

Read Part I first.

The giant spiders assaulting the heroes were borrowed from Greg Gillespie's Barrowmaze megadungeon. I chose these spiders due to Gillespie's "Blood-Thirsty" quality. Blood-thirsty monsters catch the scent of a PC's open wound and converge to attack the injured target en masse. These are particularly brutal monsters in low level play because hit points are precariously low.

The heroes rolled well for initiative and managed to swiftly kill the spiders with a few well aimed bolts before the blood-thirsty quality could come into play. The heroes noticed that these spiders had white scars that ran like streams (a divergence from Gillespie's design) over their faces and heads. The heroes don't know what these scars are from, but they will probably find out in a deeper level of the dungeon.

Skeletons were waiting silently behind the door to the north. These undead stood in formation in the claustrophobic hall that turned at a right angle behind them into the unknown. The heroes had a hard time hitting, let alone pushing through these restless foes. Luukol managed to turn the undead while Aever stood vigilantly between the dead and the living. The skeletons fled into the darkness and the heroes carefully followed.

Around the corner the heroes found a door with it's arch labelled, "Confessional." The heroes walked into the 10 by 15 room and saw that a screen had been slashed to ribbons in the east. Another room stood behind the ruined screen -- this is where the skeletons were assumed to have run. The heroes looted tapestries off the western and the northern walls before moving into the next room. Hamish, the party's hireling torchbearer was convinced to carry the loot. He didn't complain, he'd been asked to do worse things before...

The other side of the confessional screen displayed a room with much the same parameters as the last. But instead of tapestries lining the walls, delicate and ancient tomes crowded the walls. These books contain a history of the demon Orcus as well as the "summon" spell as it appears in James Raggi's LotFP Grindhouse Edition. A door to the south stood ajar. While the heroes tore through the books, Aever noticed the approach of skeletons from the southern door.

Using door-cover, Aever managed to brutally hack the lead skeleton away from the doorway. But even this did little to slow them, so Luukol was forced to unleash his darker aspect. He did not 'turn' the undead but chose instead to 'command' them to destroy each other. Once the bone dust settled, the heroes were able to move through the short hall the skeletons had been standing in.

The hall led to a grand eastern door. Inside the heroes found a mausoleum; four stone caskets rested in each corner of the room. From here, the heroes could hear a guttural and unholy song coming from behind a fine dark-wood door to the south of the room. A massive onyx chest  sat in the center of the room. A door stood ajar to the east. A lot started to happen very quickly.

Jareth used his ten foot pole to lift the lid of the chest. Inside he found his first familiar, a fox sent on Orcus' behalf. Faylor could stand the singing no more so he kicked open the southern door, tossed in a torch, and strode into the room. Inside he saw a massive chamber held up by classical pillars. Trampled scrolls and relic boxes littered the floor in a pattern of refuse mingling with a pile of corpses. A female elf stood silent beside an ogre who was chanting the vile ritual at the top of a staircase inside a humming magical circle.

Skeletons rose from the pile of dead and made their move towards Faylor who cast 'sleep' before retreating from the room. The elf fell unconscious in the circle, but the ogre stood unfazed. At the door the heroes did their best to brace the door against the skeletons, but the Ogre charged the door himself to see who was on the other side. The party managed to bloody his nose with bolt and missile, but they will be in real danger when he crosses the threshold.

Once Jareth got sight of the ogre he fled, backtracking the route the party had made. Stumbling with the treasure and his hireling, Jareth ran into the half-dwarf the party had had terrified the day prior. Jareth tried to calm the mysterious half-dwarf, but succeeded only in startling him further. Jareth caught the half-dwarf's axe in the eye, falling into a well of dreams drank by his demon patron.

Read Part III.

Tools, Tips, & Crochet

The prophets have spoken. This "God Generator" is an excellent tool for the GM looking to cook up a DnD god on the fly. Read Rolang's Creeping Doom.

Who doesn't want to cuddle with a creepy Cthuloid? Get them at NeedleForge. You can hear what NeedleForge is all about at Gamerati.

Dude is funny. Behind the rage is some real insight. Read The Moldy Vale.

The Hurting

My level of want certainly corresponds to the obscene Amazon price tag on this rare, now out of print Beyond the Mountains of Madness module. But if I were to snap and buy this, it would be an irrevocable deathblow to my reason. I would soon spiral into a depraved state of impish lunacy. Can't have that. Looks like I'll have to do some forum investigating to find this arcane tome at a reasonable price.

If Beyond the Mountains of Madness is anything like The Thing (1982) I'm totally sold. Kidding aside, Lovecraft is my favorite genre writer. Sure I think there a defter, much more profound genre writers, absolutely. But I find Lovecraft's cosmic terror inescapable. Horror is always present when I run an RPG, it is the assumed crossover along with whatever stock stetting the game provides. But no game is scarier than Call of Cthulhu. The game recognizes that vulnerability and sanity are the pillars of excellent horror (i.e. fear for ones corporeal state and fear for ones mental/spiritual state).

Lovecraft's horror is so inspiring because it feels at once close enough to touch, and yet somehow foreign. Lovecraft's tales take place in an era decades before my time. Cultural sensibilities from the 1920's and 30's are only a frail and rattling echo in the ear of today's reader. Lovecraft's bizarre cults and rites for ancient gods renders a mysticism that fractures man's pillar of moral sanity. Lovecraft's alien superscience defies the logic of man, or rather supersedes it, leaving man incapable of trusting his reality. Lovecraft translated the fear of God into commercial fiction.

I will keep my current DnD campaign running until there is a TPK "total party kill." Even if just one player-character survives an ordeal, the campaign will continue and the other players can roll up new characters after a character's death. However, once/ if all the player-characters die together, the campaign ends. The deceased heroes will join the ranks of the eulogized and a new DnD campaign will start anew. But not before I run a Call of Cthulhu game a while. Ill likely run Masks of Nyarlathotep because it is infinitely easier to find than Beyond the Mountains of Madness. Besides, I've never run a CoC module before -- why not start with a classic?

Today is the Day

Sign up for DnD Next play-testing here. Whether you are waiting anxiously for, are perturbed by, or indifferent to 5th Edition DnD, it is finally open to the general public. At Pax East there was some open play-testing (I believe) on Friday night. Unfortunately I missed testing by a few hours. I have faith that WotC will finish a worthy new edition even if this preliminary draft doesn't indicate that. In all likelihood I will mine the new edition for elements that I enjoy and will implement them into my home-brew. I doubt that I will use the new edition as a main source, because even now I don't think there is a DnD tome I use primarily over the others. I might arrive on a favorite one day, but I'm in no rush.

Cult of Aois I

The first session started pretty gonzo -- the players were blinded/ teleported by a magical sandstorm. They wandered through the desert looking for their destination but instead found a statue erected to "the god-killer" overlooking a jagged valley. Almost as soon as they got their bearings they were attacked. Depraved madmen in tattered priestly robes emerged from the biting winds gibbering in tongues and lashing long obsidian daggers.

The players were still feeling out the system so perhaps this ambush was a bit unfair. But now the players are fully aware of how desperate low level play is. A henchman had died, two heroes had fallen unconscious, and some of the trader's wares had been ruined. Paraphrasing Luukol, the group's cleric, "We are at 60% strength and havent even walked into the dungeon." But I'm not a malicious DM, no, of course not. I offered the players a risky power grab just outside the dungeon gate to make up for the gritty start.

A ram-horned 14 foot tall demon in hell-forged plate armor offered the players a pact. This demon presented himself as Orcus and told the players that those madmen were his unworthy thralls. In exchange for the players' worship, he would grant them a blessing in his halls. Two of the players responded with fervent piety, out of fear or greed I do not know. Others responded with guarded and not-so-guarded suspicion. The demon vanished into the sandstorm leaving the players with a lot of uncertainties. The heroes know that this demon's tunnel can lead to the dwarven city, but all else is speculation and rumor.

In the dungeon's antechamber the players found a half-dwarf entranced or stunned, but the players managed to terrify him away from any sort of allegiance. He had actually just been attacked moments before the heroes arrived, but saw the heroes as another threat. Dwarves are the only lawful race in these depths, all others are either neutral or chaotic generally. The half-dwarf fled, but could not be pursued far in the darkness. Once down into the actual depths, the players found themselves in a claustrophobic armory-turned rusting trash heap.

At one time this dungeon was a sacred barrack for the dwarven people, crafted by the finest artisans in pious worship of Aois. Aois was the famed demi-god bard who slew the selfish pantheon, freeing the dwarven people from their divine debts. While the dwarven faith in Aois was real the dwarves lived near  the surface but never lost a war to the beastmen. After Aois ascended becoming a god himself, the dwarves' grip on the surface caves became a tenuous one. They retreated ever lower, building their mausoleum citadels in worship of cthonic demons instead. Orcus was once the demon prince, but the dwarves stole his staff through unknown trickery, greatly reducing his power and outcasting him from their new pantheon. If the players read the books they found in the second session, they will learn this.

The heroes came across two doors, but opted for the one without the sound of dripping water behind it. The passage opened to to a hall with a collapsed staue defaced beyond recognition to the north. A door to the west opened upon a long "L" shaped hall lined on both sides by flying buttresses. Altars to various crumbling idols had been erected in alcoves by the beastmen after they had torn these halls from the dwarves. I was going for a holy warrior vibe hence the religious iconography and the remnants of long past battle. Thick gossamer webs flooded the room but the heroes pressed on, that is until the sound of skittering above warned them to draw their blades. Part II begins in medias res.

Read Part II.

Mortals

Men sup from the bosom of mortality. Such is the tragedy of man, such is his triumph.

ACKS provides an appropriately open-ended description of the human nomad, leaving much to the DM's determination. In sandbox games like Cult of Aois this is preferable. The nomads I envision are jointly inspired by Howard's barbarian as well as mexican indian mythos. Rival nomad tribes war over resources and honor, but band together against the neanderthal threat. While men follow the herd, the neanderthal pursue men from caves. Neanderthal come for flesh, both as a breeding stock and as a food source.

Humanity's social elite rarely concern themselves with neanderthals. Living in decadent and crumbling castles they are safe from the threat for now. This elite is the extended family, court, and knights of the last king, consisting of 10% of the population. The king has been dead for over 100 years with no heir. But the scheming and vile grabs for the throne has torn the court into disorder. Many wars have been waged over the petty squabbles of noblemen with nomad blood.

Even behind castle walls, there are far more fel dramas than the occasional noble's infidelity or incest. House Halrys' patriarch is the un-living nephew of the past king. Patriarch Greln Halrys is a vampire who brings his brave men back from the grave with cursed miracles. Greln's living servants are enraptured because they believe him to be the first lord to cast off his humanity for godhood. There will be more on the vampires soon.

Second Roll20 Live

Where will you be in a little less than an hour? I'll be watching the second Roll20 live-stream (At 9PM Eastern). Kudos to my friend Chris for the reminder.

Caterpillar Elevators (Part II)

Read part 1 first.

Sylk Wyrms or "Dire Wyrms" (as they are called by surfacers) are ordinarily more docile than their nickname implies. These  gigantic furry mollusks have earned the nickname, "Deep Mammoths" by the few lore-men who withdraw from ancient scrolls fantasies of the ancient cold. Mature wyrms even have powerful tusks which resemble those of the long-distant mammoth. Larvae wyrms are hairless, bone white, and translucent. From the egg they are about the size of a bull, and their tusks are barely pronounced.

By puberty the wyrm's tusks have grown up to a span of ten feet long. But wyrms with tusks those large are the very largest of their kind, about the size of a sperm whale. By middle age, the wyrm's hair is a ruddy red. In their eldest stages the wyrms outer flesh hardens into a gravelly and chitinous surface, and the hair turns black. Their saliva is a corrosive substance capable of breaking down stone, earth, and flesh.  Though wyrm flesh is impervious, of course. In a spiral-screwing motion wyrms use their tusks and spittle to tunnel out suitable domains. Some claim that they can "swim" through the earth as fast as a man can run.

Typically wyrms nest in colonys as they are social creatures. Various glands allow the wyrm to weave a powerful acid-impervious thread. Gnomish artisans use this thread to make a superior weave the gnomes implement into everything from insulation to armor. Wyrms use these webs to make "nests" over high chasms ussually near moisture sources. Both male and female wyrms have tusks and can secrete the acidic saliva from birth. Female wyrms are typically 20% larger than males. Once a wyrm's hair has turned fully black it retreats from it's colony in an isolated pilgrimage until death.

What is a "Caterpillar Elevator"?
Answer: Deep gnomes with wyrm companions make use of the wyrm's ability to quickly zip up and down their thread-lines. Gnomish excavators grab a ride on the furry flank of their wyrm accomplices and in minutes have sped upwards to ore-rich caverns ordinarily hours of climbing away.

Caterpillar Elevators (Part I)

Gnomish cities (or "skitter dens") are woven of web and sculpted of wax beneath bioluminescent lichen in vast underground grottos. In Cult of Aois the "deep gnomes" are the lords of insects. The deep gnomes' mastery of insect-husbandry is peerless because gnomes are taught at a young age the art of placating and commanding dire bugs. Dire wyrms and dire bees willingly cooperate with gnomes because they all expect to benefit mutually. By residing in the same delve they offer their partners communal protection from would be predators. Additionally, the gnomish presence seems to offer an uncanny boon to colony productivity. Gnome inhabited skitter dens have more resilient bug-labor, finer wyrm-webs, and purer honey than would be found in the natural environment.

Picture Link.

The bugs have long worshipped a bizarre pantheon.  Since joining the gnomes they have steadily impressed the influence of their alien mysticism. Even the dead are offered to the brood -- skitter dens generally offer corpses (both bug and gnome) to it's hungry. As I'm writing this article, I'm realizing that the Dune vibe lingers still. Well, no matter. Gnomes are generally against burial or cremation, and believe salvation is easier found from inside the digestive tract of a 20-foot-long millipede. Skitter dens usually consist of two or three family lines, but it is not unusual for a gnome patriarch or matriarch to have several spouses and dozens of children each. If the players aren't too intimidated by the gnome's inhuman cohorts, they might be able to hire some rather valuable hirelings.

Read Part II. 

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The Illithid Faction

Having multiple factions in a dungeon encourages the suspension of disbelief. NPC's from factions usually seem more organic and significant because their faction lends them purpose. The dungeon with factions in conflict feels less like a caricatured fun-house, and more like an environment with the potential for evolving conflicts and resolutions. With that said -- the Illithid or "mindflayer" faction is one of the first factions my players might be unfortunate enough to encounter in the Cult of Aois megadungeon.

As mindflayers have the tendency to be rather potent adversaries, the level 1 players will probably not encounter these monsters in our first few sessions. But it is likely that plenty of the mindflayer's minions will be an ever-looming threat. I'm placing such an emphasis on the Illithid because my aim is to craft the Cult of Aois as a sci fantasy megadungeon. I've been cooking up ideas for some sickening and depraved mindflayer thralls, and I will post more about these minions after our game tomorrow night.

Every faction has a goal. In Cult of Aois, the mindflayer faction seeks to infiltrate the dwarven capital. The illithids hope to harness the mythical dwarven "Runewright," an artifact which is believed to be able to re-open the illithid's now-dead portal to the "space realm." The illithid are an antediluvian race that was once guided by their patron deity across the stars. But their deity ascended eons ago, joining the ranks of the forgotten. Their god abandoned his people as all forgotten do. Since then, the illithid have brooded beneath the darkness of their "material realm"prison while cursing the name of the god who used then stranded them.

The Numen

Elves call them spirits, men call them demons, dwarves call them gods. The numinous forces of the standing races can be divided into two categories. The first group, called "The Forgotten" are the class of gods which no longer respond to the appeals of worshippers. These are entities so ascendant that even the power of prayer is of little concern to them. These gods are in an eternal political struggle with the other master powers. The Forgotten rarely manifest on the material plane, but send pawn lesser deity's if necessary.

Picture Link. 

The second class of deity are are called "The Singers." These are the mouthpieces of faith and the architects of cults. These are the lesser gods who cringe before the greater gods. But it is the duty and the honor of the Singers to make men bow. Whether through service to the material plane or through its domination, The Singers are the forces that meddle in the affairs of elves, dwarves, and mortals. For a Singer to ascend, they must first enrapture the masses into prayer. The faith-force of the devout directly empowers a Singer. A cult's power grows with the deeds of deity's champions. As the masses are inspired, the deity feeds on their devotion with a dreadful gluttony.

The Eldar

The elves in my home-brew are inspired by several sources, but Frank Herbert's Dune is the primary influence. The elves in my campaign are in the vein of Herbert's fremen; supreme survivors conditioned by the hell-blasted desert. They are mystic warriors who worship martial and magic cults. Though the aesthetic is  certainly fremen, thats really as far as the similarities go. These elves worship magic as men worship gods. Males follow one cult, females the other.  The elves were the first race to hear the whisperings of magic from the spirits. The eldar mother chose the cult of the *Nightblade. The son-father found the cult of the *Spellsword.

Picture link.

The males are not fair elves, their flesh has taken the hue of the red sands, and been shaped by it too. In Dark Sun (I never played it) I heard that the elves stood taller than men, something around seven feet tall if my memory serves me. So too will the elves in my campaign stand seven feet tall. The male's ziggurats are antediluvian pyramid-fortresses where the brotherhood may hone their magics and their steel through monk-like meditative practices.

Underground the female cult extends it's shadowy grip of the underworld ever further into the depths. The spirits of both cults require an absolute separation between males and females except during procreation rituals. Though ancient, the elvish race faces decline. Males are particularly hesitant to participate in elvish consummation because to do so would be to sever the male elf's magic potential forever. The elf may no longer level as a Spellsword, and must instead level as a fighter. Though a different system, this male elf attitude is comparable to the male Giant Spider's attitude in Luke Crane's Burning Wheel.

For this reason males are taught to practice asceticism at a young age. The only woman some males ever encounter is their mother before they are taken and delivered to a surface ziggurat. Female elves follow a more martial path than the brotherhood. As they are dwellers in darkness, their flesh is a light grey, and fairer than the brotherhood's. The sisterhood's cult of deep spirits demand virtue through conquest. Vengeance is the spiritual absolution the sisterhood's ancient matriarchs glean like coins. Breathtaking natural caverns and grottos house the sisterhood. Through magic the natural chambers have been enchanted to be both luxuriant and deadly. Obviously I've drawn some inspiration from the Drow as well.

* The Nightblade is an ACKS class which is effectively a thief/magic-user multiclass for elves.
The Spellsword is an ACKS class which is effectively a fighter/ magic-user multiclass for elves.

Next Session

Intro:

Where are the gods? Elvish sorcerers meditate in ziggurats above a sand scarred desert. Only the desert rivals the elves' callousness. Dwarves dig grand tomb-cities like ants to stabilize their death cult "queen." Humans are the few, they are as weariless as they are desperate. The tribes of men must constantly war with each other and with the desert to compete for scarce resources. And stranger things still lie in the swamplands. The spirits are said to be restless there. But the spoils of dead kings are said to be there too, cursed though they be. But past the fetid wetlands great mountains are said to rise -- some taunting even the clouds. But who is to say what lies beyond? 


Who are you?

I will be running a megadungeon using several sources, but primarily the ACKS. The dungeon will be partly of my own design and partly composed of borrowed modules. We all love a good dungeon crawl, but the evolving political component of ACKS is what we found most compelling. As a subterranean campaign, it will be highly likely that characters will build their fortresses far below the surface. This will be a tale of downwards progress.

Picture link.

Updates soon.

Kid Movies

There are two children's films which peaked my interest in fantasy at a young age. My father read me portions of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, and decided too, to show me the animated 1977 film, also and aptly titled The Hobbit. Today I can only recall fragments of the movie. But one scene is particularly vivid to me, at least visually -- when the party of hobbit and dwarves were imprisoned by the elves. I remember that the artists/ writers chose to portray the elves as blue-skinned xenophobes. Or at least this is the impression I am left with all these years later. I don't think I ever saw the film twice. 

Certainly Tolkien's elves are inhuman, they are such exemplary beings that others marvel at their aura's of splendor. Throughout The Lord of The Rings, Legolas' supernal perception aided the fellowship again and again. LoTR elves are the most superior of Middle Earth's races, or at least were before the age of men. But the film's elves were cruel, malevolent, and their scowls set them as unsightly. Perhaps the film writers or artists sought to adapt the elves to a more abrasive portrayal, one more fully represented by an almost fully dwarven party.

Picture Link

The other film I can only recall fragments of, but has bound me to fantasy nonetheless is The Last Unicorn, animated in 1982. All I can really remember from this film is a scene that I found fully haunting at the time. Before the climax, in a decrepit castle the film's protagonist's are confronted by a sentient skeleton who spoke eloquently but craved wine with absolute depravity. One of the characters remarked something to the effect of, *"but a skeleton doesn't have a tongue to taste." To which the skeleton mentioned something to the effect of, "Just to know that wine runs down my bones brings comfort in memory."* I just remember feeling that this was just such an odd and somehow macabre interaction. I don't want to see these films again because I don't want my perceptions of them to change. I remember them fondly, and hope always to do so.

Picture Link

* Paraphrased.