MIXED BAG. TABLETOP TALES: CONAN MUNCHKIN REVIEW!

TABLETOP TALES PRESENTS

MUNCHKIN CONAN REVIEW!

Designer: Steve Jackson
Publisher: Steve Jackson Games (2012)
Type: Card Game
Themes: Fantasy, Humor, & Bartering
# of Players: 3-6
Ages: 10 & Up
Time to Play: 45-90 Min.
Approx. Price: $20

MUSICAL MONDAY! CONAN THE BARBARIAN

Msuical Monday! 

CONAN THE BARBARIAN: THE MUSICAL!

ROBOT CHICKEN: WHAT IS BEST IN LIFE? 

Over the last couple of years I have really been discovering films from the 80's and the more I watch, even the mediocre ones, I realize that the 80's was a fantastic time for films, and that is why we have all these terrible remakes being pumped out in the Age of Avatar, Transformers and Twilight. Guys and gals in the 18-30 range were able to experience these films as kids and are nostalgic for their favorite franchises. Hollywood knows this and, like the filthy money grubbing bastards they have become in the last decade (it really seems worse than ever), are pumping out big budget turd after turd and, rather unfortunately, everyone is eating it up.

Jason Mamoa was apparently the saving grace of the film.

SPOONY & BEN: OLD vs. NEW: CONAN

 

On the flip side, some franchises could use a remake or fresh look. Conan the Barbarian was perfectly ripe for this kind of attention but, as it seems, the new film is not as good as the 1982 classic. Yes, it is a classic. It was written by Oliver Stone and directed by John Milius. It stars Arnold Schwarzenegger in his second most iconic role after Terminator, James Earle Jones in his most iconic role after Darth Vader (and maybe Mufasa?) and Mako (cuz he is the man.) But the part of the film that is undeniably classic and one of the greatest movie soundtrack of all time is Basil Poledouris's incredible masterpiece.That is the subject of today's Musical Monday.

CONAN THE BARBARIAN: A NEARLY SILENT OPERA

John Mileus and Basil Poledouris viewed the first Conan film in a operatic view. That is to say, they borrowed themes from Wagner to create an epic tale that would stand the test of time. This is a fairly appropriate way to look at the film because, while the story is standard, the execution is incredibly dramatic; from the sacking of Conan's hometown to his crucifixion to his resurrection to the death of Valeria to the death of Thulsa Doom, every scene is wrapped in the orchestral masterpiece to keep the film together and give it a timeless feel. I am not music expert but I can tell you what each song invokes. Click the title to listen to a video of each song if you like. I really recommend getting a hold of this incredible soundtrack as a background for Dungeons and Dragons and for fantasy writing.

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger"-Friedrich Nietzsche

 

1. Anvil of Crom

This song just screams "high adventure" and it's rhythmic tones just lend itself to the dramatic landscape shots that should accompany such music. I see rolling hills, craggy mountains and warriors on horse back.  One of the major buffs this film has over other swords and sorcery films are the real locations that just give you the feel of being dropped into a real world.

 2. Riddle of Steel

Conan's personal theme, the Riddle of Steel speaks to the high pain and violence that are Conan's trade and how revenge is his quest. The Riddle of Steel is the central philosophy and deals with the importance of metal to the Cimmerian people.Thulsa Doom answers the "the riddle of steel" by showing Conan the power of flesh is greater.

3. Gift of Fury

The gift of fury is all about the suffering that Conan has to endure after the initial death of his parents and later Valeria. It speaks of the sadness that is turned to anger and the finally fury that an avenger uses as a weapon against their foes.

4. Wheel of Pain

Few songs are more appropriately named in the history of cinema than Wheel of Pain. This scene instantly ingrains with its screeching wheel sound and rhythm the struggle of a hero. Specifically, it actually refers to the wheel that Conan is made to push for decades that builds his strength. This song is about turning pain into strength.

5. Atlantean Sword

Conan finds an old warrior's tomb at the beginning of the film. He takes the finished warrior's sword and continues on his own quest. This is another beautiful moment of poetry in the film as it represents that all things must come to an end and even the mighty Conan will be bone and then dust. This is often considered one of the best songs in the film and I have to admit that its solemnity is not lost on me.

6. Civilization

It is the theme of civilizations and light-heartedly reminds me of a ball-room dance. It really works well in the scenes where Conan is in a town or with his thief friend, Sabotai.

7. Wifeing (Theme of Love)

This romantic piece is always charming and makes me think of two figures overlooking a sunset over a valley.

8. The Leaving (The Search)

This sorrowful tune always brings the thought of loss into my heart. It reminds me of the pain that Sabotai and Valeria must've felt upon losing Conan and how they had to search for a way to bring him back- at any cost.

9.  The Mountain of Power Procession

This is a victory march song with a little bit of irony thrown in with the chimes. It makes me think of a powerful army or even an ironworks (thanks to all the clanking). At the end, we hear a little bit of  The Orgy.

10. The Tree of Woe

Foreboding. The creepy and crushing sounds of this song always make my D & D players feel wary even when its in the middle of a perfectly normal scene. The eerie use of chimes, bells and wavering hums is enough to put anyone in a worry.

 

11. The Recovery

At first, it starts out a slightly muted and disappointed version of Conan's theme but as it build we get a worldess female chorus that brings redemption and second chances to mind. The song invokes purity in action, as well as the purity in love between Valeria and Conan. Conan feels weak but is more determined than ever to get his revenge. In death, he has lost what he was but has gained who he has become.

12. The Kitchen (The Orgy)

 A nerd can really headbop to this stirring and hypnotic build up into a rocking chorus that invokes power and prestige. The rising nature of it also works really well with the idea of characters sneaking into some dangerous place. The sultry lullaby that is also in it that teases at the light-hearted civilization is twisted and gives a sense of unease.

13. Funeral Pyre

This song is just pure loss. The high dramatic notes punctuating the strings as they mourn the death of a fallen hero. I can't stop myself from thinking of Valeria's funeral during this song.

14. Battle of the Mounds

Swords, horses and action! This song is a perfect battle tune thanks to its war drums, valkyries singing in the background and the incredibly intense chorus. The chorus is just head bopping and really serves to make me think of warrior's fighting and other epic battle scenes. It really is a great song and turns what could've been a silly scene into an awesome bit of action.

15.  Death of Rexor

This is a pure victory tune. It is of the hero's overcoming some great villain and coming to the climactic scene. This song carries us from the defeat of Thulsa Doom's lieutenants at the hands of Conan and the protector spirit of Valeria into the beheading of Thulsa Doom. The end is haunting and dramatic. It during this scene that Thulsa Doom is trapped on top of his Mountain of Power with Conan and tries to woo him with words. He fails.

16. Orphans of Doom/ The Awakening

The god/villain/king has been slain and his minions are left unsure of what to do. There is hope but it is on their shoulders to find a new way. The heroes are offered a final reward. The big dramatic end just wraps up everything nicely.

The funny thing about Conan the Barbarian was that I didn't seek it out because I'm an Arnold Schwarzenegger fan or because I love swords & sorcery, I sought it out because I loved the music. Furthermore, I was introduced to the music by Conan the Barbarian: The Musical (linked at the top). In the end, I recommend anyone who loves good movie soundtracks to seek out this undebated classic.

OSB, TSF. KORBO THE BARBARIAN

ONE STEP BACK, TWO STEPS FORWARD PRESENTS

KORBO THE BARBARIAN CH. 1 CIRCA 2010

The following is an old fiction I wrote based on an old d & d campaign. Its really out there but this old draft could one day be worked into an awesome book. It was a parody of Conan the Barbarian and my own crazy ideas. Enjoy.

Forward

            In the year 20XX, an earth shattering cataclysm shattered the world like a porcelain piñata at a quinceañera. As far as I can gather, the nations of the world used their most powerful magicks to destroy each other. The result was a volatile wasteland that only a lucky few survived in vaults under the earth, hiding like monkeys in the afore mentioned piñata. As they hid in the Earth, gods above, devils below, the forces of right, wrong and otherwise fought over the ruined earth. Until finally, after a few hundreds years or so, the battles ceased and man left their bunkers to see a new world where gods are too tired to fight any longer. They spread through the land from the 6 vaults and named the land Sixx in it’s honor.

            To claim a new world of might and magick. The year is 27XX, and humans live in a world of fangorical fantasy. In a world filled with mutants and magical men, elves, dwarves, goblins and much more. The animals mutated as well from the corruption of the ancient wars, turning them into bizarre beasts from dragons to animal men. This world is a world of bizarre, magicks crackle through the air corrupting and twisting everything, humanity fighting hard to find a foothold and claim a stake in this world.

            The world of Sixx is home to a agglomeration of human heroes, heroines, villains and helpless folks for these figures to fight over but one hero stands head and shoulder above them all. He is the righteous righter of wrongs, the Herculean history-making hero, the badass boy king supreme who would be badass king supreme,

Korbo the Barbarian

KORBO the BARBARIAN

Chapter 1

The Devil’s Bellybutton

            It was a dark and stormy night, except it was the middle of the day and it was cloudy with a chance of rain. Under this unassuming sky, a young man walks determinedly toward his destiny. There would be a lot of stops and starts on the road to his destiny. To start he merely had to walk and the first stop from there was a local pub called the Devil’s Bellybutton, a small little dwarven mining dive in the little town of Barton. The young man was not alone either. Walking alongside the venerable voice of virtue was his oldest companion.

            He was always seen striding side by side with the young man or at least close behind. His yellow eyes peered down the short feral hyena snout, searching the alleys and street corners for any sign of danger. In fact, this companion resembled a spotted hay-colored hyena with the build of a gorilla and the garb of a brutal savage. The visage of this companion was that of a hulking beast and yet, this beast was no mindless monster- he was the mighty mentor of the young man. He smiled down at his charge as they walked into the Devil’s Bellybuton, as a proud father and a loyal brother of the young man.

            When the young man walked into the bar followed by his guardian, he was quickly accosted by a girl about twice his age, “Korbo!!” She squealed in adulation as she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes, to peck at his cheek. The young man froze, gently pushing strands of strawberry hair out of his face and helping set the girl on her feet, before with the gentle skill of a poet, “Um, hey, you!” Well, a poet on drugs…

            “Oh, Korbo! I was wonderin’ when ya’ll’d be back in Barton!”

                        “Um, right, sorry, I had important um, hero stuff to do back in the Sabbathi Highlands.”

            “Oh, don’t worry yer pretty bronze little head about it, darlin’! I knew you must’ve had  summit important to do!” She coyly took his hand, “I mean, you and me were havin’ such a good time. First we got good and buttered up on some tequila shooters and then we went cowbird tippin’ and then we came back to my place.”

            Korbo listened to the story with a patient and awkward smile of a young man trying to desperately remember the name of a girl he had spent a drunken night with. As she kept going, he tried to collect clues, “I went to slip into my silkies, turned around and lo and behold you leapt out the window!”

            Meanwhile, Korbo’s old chum was getting a big kick out of the story, placing a hand on Korbo’s shoulder, standing a good foot taller than him, and Korbo was plenty tall, “Ah, then you saw him get up and stumble off, shouting something like, ‘adventure awaits!’ ?”

            The pretty little country girl looked at the beast perplexed, “Well, yeah, an’ I figured he must’ve just had summit real important to take care of!”

            Korbo looked from the girl to his companion and smiled, “Er, yeah that was the um, thing. I heard um, adventure on the horizon. Right, Dokken?”

            Dokken chuckled, “Sure thing, lady-killer.” Giving him a knowing smile, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, miss, me and my young ward need to get some ale in us before we start ailing from weary sobriety.”

            “Sure thing, darling.” As Korbo went to walk past the waitress, she took his hand, “But first Korbo, you gotta promise to show me a good time once ya’ll get good and lickered! I’d love to see your sword and maybe help ya polish it! And then maybe-”

            “OYE!” The barmaid stopped as the grubby hand of a dwarves miner grabbed her arm and nearly jerked her right down to eye level, which for the dwarf was only about four feet off the ground, “You promised me a date, Kitty.”

            “Oh, um, sorry, Mr. Stonefoot, darlin’!” She winced, trying to gently pull her arm free from the filthy little hand, “But, I’m gonna have to reschedule our date!”

            “Reschedule? Stonefoot’s don’t reschedule for no whores!” As he rose angrily, Korbo put a hand on the dwarf’s wrist, squeezed and with the trademark groan of a jerk being forced to release a girl, looked up at Korbo.

            “You shouldn’t put your hands on young ladies, Mr. Dwarf.” He said calmly, beginning to twist his arm, as Dokken helped Kitty out of the way, she looked from behind his pillar of an arm. The funny thing about Korbo is he could be threatening and friendly at the same time, “Now, look, if you promise you’ll leave her alone I’ll let you get your hammer arm back and we can all have a drink. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea, Mr. Dwarf?”

            The dwarf’s face was slowly turning red from fury, matching his filthy red hair, teeth gritted, he spat, “Shut the hell up!” The dwarf swung his yellow helmeted head up and knocked Korbo back into Dokken, pulling his hammer up from the bench and swing it at Korbo.

            Dokken blocked the mallet with the flat of his axe, and growled, “This won’t be a fair fight! You should put the hammer down before I step on you!”

            Stonefoot laughed, “You forget, dog breath, this is a mining town!” As he spoke the last syllable another dwarf launched himself across a table swinging his hammer at Dokken- but the dwarf was kicked the ground with a mighty kick from Korbo, knocking over the table, as Kitty screamed running to hide behind the bar counter with the half-orc bartender.

            As Korbo unsheathed his blade, swinging it down at the dwarf, who rolled across the table and leaping up, hit Dokken in the back with a swing. Dokken roared swinging his axe around, splitting the dwarf like a log, as he was head-butted in the crotch by the first dwarf. The head of the little fellow was as thick and strong as iron, as he knocked the bugbear to the floor, just as an arrow from a third dwarf flew through the air hitting Dokken in the arm, “Fuck!”

            Korbo flew into action, swinging to block another blow from Stonefoot, roaring, “Get away from him!” As another arrow flew past Korbo’s head it was quickly snatched by the gnarled hand from within a robe who had just leapt down the staircase,

            “Off my tables!” He roared, and the cloak crumpled and exploded into a swarm of locusts that flew and hit the archer dwarf. The archer screamed in terror, swinging at the insects, but within a few moments, he fell dead to the ground, pockmarked from the vicious bite marks of the insects.

            Stonefoot had stopped in horrified astonishment as he saw his brother-in-arms get eaten alive by bugs, and in that moment of terror, Korbo swung his blade. The blade was six inches wide, six feet long and sharp enough to cut off three heads in one sweep. A third of its force was all it took to make the fat dwarf’s fiery redhead fly through the air and land, gored, on the tusks of a boar head hanging above the front door. Just then a horn could be heard and stumbled in were nine dwarves wielding picks and hammers, covered in dust from the mines. The oldest looking dwarf growled, “And what the hell is going on here?! What‘s the meaning of-”He froze mid-sentence as something wet and warm dribbled onto his bulbous nose, he looked up and cried in fury, facing turning scarlet, as he searched for the perpetrator, seeing Korbo he and his men turned to attack him.

            Ah, but the dwarf was not the only one incensed. In fact, Korbo had been worked up into quite the frenzy himself. A boy of sixteen, going on seventeen, built like a bronze statue of Grecian old, wearing fur and leather, his long brown hair hanging to his shoulder, his hazel eyes filled with blood rage. He was quite the sight as, speckled in dwarf blood, he turned on the newcomers. They did not fall from the weight of his blade or from that of his companion. They fell to their deaths at the technique passed on generation after generations in Korbo’s tribe. From shaman to chieftain to chieftain’s son and so on throughout the ages. A technique that filled Korbo’s enemies with horror, the dreaded Voice of God.

            As the dwarves approached our hero he crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking in a long draught of air. His chest swollen with air, boiled with the heat of his berserker’s blood in his lungs. Throwing his arms back, he let out a mighty wail that shook the very foundations of the bar. Those caught in the blast were thrown back and those who attempted to resist the power of his almighty voice exploded. Literally, the heads of the dwarves that had just entered the bars burst open like ripe tomatoes hit with a mallet, brain matter everywhere, Korbo sat up straight, wiped his bloodied blade on the shirt of his slain foe and he sat down next to the nearest table, cooling down.

            Dokken put a hand on Korbo’s shoulder, smacking the sides of his own sensitive ears as they rang, speaking rather loudly, “Well-done, Korbo. You’re improving your technique! Nine has got to be a new record for you.”

            “Well, yes,” Korbo confidently smiled up at him, “But if there were more, my record would be better.”

            Dokken chuckled, as he looked around seeing the mess they had made and realizing this was probably another bar where the bartenders would want them to leave, but be too terrified to look them in the eyes.

            He noticed the swarm of locusts from earlier was slowly moving toward them, he moving to pull Korbo up, but he stopped as the swarm formed into a figured cloaked in a brown robe. Dokken and Korbo stared at the figure, as it dropped its hood to reveal a disturbing face.

            The man appeared to be whittled more than born from wood, sharp, splintered features, with a creepy smile curling his small head under a flat nose like protrusion and yellow eyes of devil with green pupils. He coughed and a fly flew from his throat and back into his twig like hair as he clapped his hands together. Everything about this tree-being spoke of sick insectoid infection and parasitic personality and yet as he clapped his hands together and kept clapping. Looking around, the creature began to cheer in a buzzing whine of a voice, “Bravo! Bravo!!” And the patrons who had remained mostly silent spectators up until that point began to clap as well as the creature revealed his identity, “Free drinks on the house, owner’s treat boys!” He gestured for them to come sit at the bar, “Come, please, I wish to talk with you two.”

            Korbo turned to look at Dokken with a confused frown, who simply shrugged and helped him up, “Eh, probably a sorcerer, but free booze is better than being banned from the bar. C’mon.” Sitting on bar-stools next to the proprietor, he pushed into their hands two drinks. Dokken’s crackled and smoke drifted from the gritty green substance in his mug. As for the Korbo’s drink, it was blood red and smelt awful. Yet, the two drank and coughed, for as strong drinker’s as they were, they had not braced themselves for such a snap.

            “Ah, my new patented Trollsnot Syrup and of course, the family favorite, Dragon’s Period Ale!” The creature’s voice crackled with delicious mischief as he watched Dokken shrug and go back to gulping down his drink as the younger barbarian nursed his, not much for the foul taste.

            “You two boy’s really impressed me out there. I mean, the way you just, the way they went, BABOOM!” He threw his hands up in the air, slapping his hand on the table, as if appreciating a really impressive joke with a laugh, “It was so visceral, and brutal and well, I like a good slaughter any day.” He sighed, shaking his head in seeming impressed glee. Dokken nodded, as he emptied his drink, “Don’t mention it.”

                        “I couldn’t help it really. Just natural.”

            “Yes, supernatural even! Oh, yes, let me introduce myself, “He cleared his throat, as he breathed in deep, his throat made a chittering noise like a cicada, “I am Scurdge the Violator, the proprietor of the Devil’s Bellybutton and a master of insidious forms and pleasures. As for you two,” He turned to them, with a smirk, “Everyone knows Korbo the Barbarian, and his best friend, err-”

            “Dokken.”

“Ah, yes, Dokken. Now, I must ask, what leads you two fine gentleman into my neck of the world. It’s an awful long ways from the Sabbathi Highlands just for a taste of Ice Mountain Ale.” He chuckled, in a way that made Korbo shudder, this guy was off, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I will be. I presume that you two gentleman are on some type of quest, eh?”

            “Aye, we are,” Dokken nodded, “We are on a quest to find the Enchiridion!”

“Yes, yes, the Handbook for Heroes, yes? The most valuable book ever crafted by the Hyrijikan Lords!”

            “The same. We hear it’s in parts near here and that it is in some kind of temple that only a hero can open.” He clapped a hand on Korbo’s shoulder, “And not to brag, but I think Korbo needs a good read before we begin our next big quest.”

            “Yes, learning is ever so important, ever so indeed. Now, may I ask you Dokken, do you know where the book is hidden?” A curious smile of a devil in cherub’s guise curled Scurdge’s already crinkled face.

            “Well, no, but we figured Dion would lead our feet.”

“Ah, but to trust such a god is perhaps not always the best plan, eh, old friend?”

            “I suppose not, but no one knows where the Enchiridion lies.”

“Oh, someone does,” giggled the slim gremlin.

            “Who?”

“Me, of course, my chum.”

            “Then, would you tell us where the book lies?”

“Of course, of course, my good friend. Now, listen well, for I do not like repeating myself, I do not like it at all. Understand? I don’t like repeating-”

            “We get it.”

                        “Please, um, if it wouldn’t be too hard give us a little help.”

“Of course, for two such talented young fellows, the citizens of the desert owe you plenty, to be sure.” He coughed and then in rapid succession began to recite the route to the Enchiridion, “First, you must head south into the Thickets of the Stung and past the Tower of Cid, mind your footing though, there might be booby traps about the old fellow’s keep. Then, of course, there are other beasties like nasty venomous scorpions and giant raptors and-”

            “The directions, please.”

“Of course, of course. From there you must travel south south-east through the heat of the White Desert and find your way to a mesa that stands above the sand. But be warned, the mesa only appears at dawn and dusk. Once you have found the mesa, called the Hero’s Pillar, you must climb to top and then well, you fight your way through the dangers within and you will find the Temple in which they have hidden the handbook. The Temple of Tyrant’s Bane.” He sighed, “And if you bring the book back here to me, I promise to pay you handsomely.”

            Dokken frowned, “How about you take us there and maybe we’ll give the book for a good price.”

            And it is at this moment the saccharine voice of Scurdge turned to biting venom, “No, you listen here, my friend, you will bring the book here in seven days and I will pay you for your troubles handsomely.”

            “How about you join us on the journey and if we’re done in a week you pay us like kings?”

Scurdge then hissed, “How about you just bring me the book?”

            “What?”

            Suddenly, Korbo yelped, grabbing his stomach, grimacing in pain, “What the- what the hell is this?!”

            Dokken realized that foul intentions were afoot and he grabbed Scurdge by the throat and slammed him into the bar counter with a hideous growl, “What’ve you done to Korbo? What was in that drink!?”

            “Nothing!” Squeaked the choked Scurdge as he scrambled to pry the massive paw from his throat, unable to transform so easily while grabbed like this, “Just a little stomach bug!” He smirked then squawked as he was thrown to the flood and his head was pinned under the mighty heel of Dokken,

            “You mistake me for someone who has patience for sorcerers, Scurdge. Now, tell me what you’ve done to the boy and I don’t snap you like a twig between my toes! I’d,” He pushed down hard, “Hate to have to pick splinters from my foot!”

            Yet, when he pushed down to put more pressure on the punk, he felt nothing but give and under his foot was a black mess. Reforming a few feet away from black flies was Scurdge who sighed, “Now, listen,” all the little voices speaking in unison, “No need to get violent.” He pulled a vial from his sleeve, and dumped a fat white grub into his hand, “I slipped a young one of these into his drink. If he is not treated with an antidote, an antidote only I know of in ten days, he will die a painful and horrible death as the parasite burrows from his navel. You see, I named my bar for these White Navel Devils.” He chuckled, as he swallowed the white grub, “Now, if you hurt me, your boy will die. If you get me that book and let me tag-along for the ride, I swear that Korbo will be deformed faster than a queen’s dog!”

            Dokken looked from Korbo who was quickly recovering and standing up, to the vile villain they had let trick them so easily, “Very well, slime, but you should know, if you hurt a hair on Korbo’s head or I ever get a half a chance, I will crush you like the crunchy little cockroach that you are!”

            “Of course, of course, now, we will begin our journey in the morning, rooms are on me,” he gestured to the stairs. “Have a wonderful evening boys, I’m sure we’re going to be great friends,” he smirked with a twisted grin as Dokken helped the nauseous Korbo to their room, “Great friends indeed.”

*

Chapter 2

Korbo the Barbarian’s Day-Off

            Korbo sighed as Dokken helped him sit up in the bed, propping a pillow up behind him and then standing up, pacing. He worried so much about Korbo. He worried about Korbo’s first hair cut, his first kill and his first date. It seemed it was Dokken’s lot in life to be the guardian of arguably the most valuable or at least most famous humanoid in the world  of Sixx. Korbo smiled, weakly, “I suppose it could be worse, Dokken.”

            “And how could it be worse?”

“We could both be dealing with a bad case of worms.”

            “This isn’t funny, Korbo.”

“Oh, come now, I can see it now, you dragging your bottom across the carpet like some old-”

            “Korbo, this is serious. You could die and this bastard has got us by the short hairs. We gotta help him get that book which by all rights is yours. I mean it’s the hero’s handbook!” He threw his paws into the air in exasperation, looking around and then out the window, “This is the worst day of my life.”

            “Oh, come on, Dokk” Korbo called from the bed, “Don’t be so grim.”

And that's where I left off...thoughts?

Word of the Day. 9/11/11

Word of the Day

Today's words are opposites, yet the latter might say, "You know, we aren't so different, you and I?"

protagonist [pro-tag-uh-nist]

noun

The lead character, hero or heroine, of a work.

 

antagonist [an-tag-uh-nist]

noun 

The adversary of a protagonist, hero or heroine, of a work.

 

Every good story must first have a protagonist. A hero (or anti-hero). They can be anything. From a young orphan to a grizzled old sword master and from strong mother to an abused bastard; nothing is better than a protagonist who is the underdog. 

On the other hand, every good story also requires an antagonist. They can also take many forms. From a spoiled prince to a lich and from a jealous sibling to a wicked witch; we prefer to see our antagonist with power.

Yet, there are exceptions. The anti-hero is a character who, for all intensive purposes, is not a good guy. They're the protagonist but they do not act righteously. Maybe they're just a little rough around the edges or maybe, despite being despicable, their charisma wins us over.

The simplest relationship between hero and villain is that of underdog versus tyrant. We love to watch the hero overcome the villain through wit and determination and the villain to fail under their own weaknesses. The most common weakness among villains, especially super villains, is vanity. It is most common for a villain to be destroyed when he underestimates the hero or drops his guard out of some sense of superiority.

In those relationships it is the villain that most often creates the hero. Like Harry Potter or Luke Skywalker, the villains of the story create the sword that slays them. Perhaps, the best example of both an anti-hero and one created by the villain is Conan the Barbarian.

Our story begins with Conan as a wimpy, even somewhat girly looking, little boy. Much like Harry Potter, Conan's father falls first in combat and is mauled by dogs. He drops the sword he had smelted before it is picked up by Conan's mother who tries to shield him. Thulsa Doom, the evil cult-leader/sorceror, with the two-snakes-facing-each-other, cuts off her head.

Thulsa Doom could have killed Conan right there but, in a moment of weakness, instead has him taken to work a wheel for decades. Over this time, determined and driven by revenge, Conan doens't just grow big, he grows up to be Arnold Frickin' Schwartzenegger!

Conan is no heroic figure. He is just likeable enough and fair enough. He kills anyone who stands against him, steals from people and punches camels. He is crude, rude, and a violent idiot. Yet, he is our protagonist.

He is an archetypal anti-hero. We like him because he is honest and because the guy he is up against is worse.

Before Thulsa Doom, knows it, Conan seeks him out. Thulsa underestimates Conan, time and time again, until literally the only shield he has left to protect himself from Conan is his word and his words fail.

 This is the most common form of this narrative. The villain creates an orphan. The orphan grows up to be a warrior. The villain bumps head with the warrior and beats him but does not kill him. The warrior comes back and defeats him. The end.

The second kind of relationship is that of the rival. These relationships can begin as friendships or even sibling rivalries before evolving into all out war. My favorite relationship of this kind is that of Naruto and Sasuke.

 The two characters are opposites yet turn out to be two sides of the same coin (conflict). Naruto is energetic, optimistic and even goofy. Sasuke is quiet, cunning and serious.

Naruto is an orphan who has never known a family. Sasuke is an orphan, after his entire clan was killed by his older brother and is the heir to the greatest ninja technique in their village. At first, Naruto envies Sasuke. Sasuke is talented and popular. Naruto wants to be like him.


When they become brothers in arms, a rivalry soon grows and it seems like Sasuke may see Naruto as an equal. Naruto sees Sasuke as the brother he never had. Sasuke becomes increasingly frustrated that his abilities are not growing as quickly as Narut'os seem to be growing. When Sasuke is defeated by his brother and Naruto seems to have surpassed him, Sasuke allows himself to submit to an evil wizard archetype, Orochimaru, and becomes, more or less, his apprentice.

Sasuke's quest for vengeance consumes him and turns him into a villain. Meanwhile, Naruto's compassion and determination make him a great hero of the people. Their inevitable climax seems ever closer as the two characters follow their own path.

The characters are embodiment over the argument of what is stronger? Love or hate, forgiveness or vengeance, self-sacrifice or retribution?

On the other hand, sometimes the hero creates the villain. The most famous hero that is questioned for creating his own villains is Batman.

Batman fulfills the orphan archetype. As a young Bruce Wayne, he witnesses his parents getting shot, and swears, not vengeance, but justice.

He takes on a secret identity, funding his venture with his inheritance, and becomes Batman, the Dark Knight. Batman is a guardian of the night. He hunts down, defeats and imprisons villains. He is a vigilante who refuses to use a gun and is against murder. He refuses to kill even the worst criminals. Yet, he creates almost all of his villains.

The best example is the Joker. The traditional story is that Batman knocked a random crook into acid and the disfigured crook goes mad and becomes the Joker. This is the origin of a lot of villains. Without super heroes, there would seem to be little need for super villains. In the Dark Knight film, the Joker's origins are a mystery but he reveals to Batman that without the Batman, there would be no need for a villain such as himself. In fact, it has become quite clear several times in the comics that without Batman as a foil to their crimes, the criminals feel that, without the challenge, it is not worth it. They need the Batman.

This creates a dilemma. Is Batman a great hero or a villain? By imprisoning our criminals do we make them better or just better prisoners?

"You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain." -The Dark Knight