Cryptic Alliance: The Sidekick Society

NAME: The Sidekick Society (AKA Fanmen)   TECH: III

TYPES: Pure Strain Humans (20%) Humanoids (65%) 

       Mutant Animals     (10%) Androids  (05%)

NUMBER ENCOUNTERED: 1d6 

BASE: varies, but always referred to as a “Secret Lair”

SECRET SIGN: Head upturned, chin thrust forward as if in contemplation of a Better Tomorrow. Fanman bases are marked by a seal which reads “Approved by the Comics Code Authority”.

DESCRIPTION: The Fanmen are a Cryptic Alliance dedicated to bringing truth and justice to the wasteland. They hold to a moral doctrine derived from religious pamphlets discovered in a bunker of the Ancients, housed in a cache which included small plastic idols and colorful costumes. The pamphlets themselves were encased in radiation-resistant mylar sleeves, and are rumored to describe the mythical exploits of mutant “Superheroes” who protected Earth Alpha from crime and alien invasion. Fanmen point to these myths as proof that Mutantkind existed on Earth Alpha, and that Genetic Purists are full of Brutor shit.  

Most folks think they've been in the wastes too long, but Fanmen dedicate their lives to defending those who cannot defend themselves, and to exacting ironic and frequently brutal justice/revenge upon those who would victimize the innocent. This puts them at odds with the vast majority of other Cryptic Alliances, whom the Fanmen refer to as “Supervillains”.

Fanmen can be recruited (if they believe the cause to be just). They can never be hired, and they never check morale.

Gammazons

image by Halro, used without permission but I bought Superjail on DVD so whatever.

NAME: Gammazons

NUMBER: 1d8

MORALE: 1d4+8

HIT DICE: 3d8

ARMOR: 4

LAND SPEED: 12/900/18

MS: 1d10+11  IN: 1d10+11

DX: 1d10+11  CH: 1d10+12

CN: 1d10+11  PS: 1d10+11

ATTACKS: by weapon

MUTATIONS: *see description

DESCRIPTION: Sages generally agree that Gammazons are descended from a race of Ancients known a “Strippaz”, though there is some speculation that they could, in fact be androids. Gammazons resemble Pure Strain Human females, though their uniformly beautiful appearance has led some to suspect a stable genetic mutation. 

Though beautiful, they are capable of astonishing violence, and regularly lead raids on Pure Strain settlements. Healthy adult males are enslaved, never to be seen again. 

Gammazons possess a specialized version of the Devolution mutation (GW 2e pg. 10, also called “Ancestor Form” on pg. 28 of Mutant Future). 

NAME: Zone of Lechery

RANGE: 15m Radius  TYPE: C M

DURATION: Special  USAGE: 1d4 times per day

NUMBER: 1d4 males  DAMAGE: none

EFFECT: Gammazons emanate an aura that strips powers an mutations from the victim, who regresses along ancestral lines. The victim’s most powerful mutation is lost when the power is used successfully. The GM choses which power is lost, but only those mutations gained in the last five hundred years are affected. Pure Strain Humans lose 1 from their highest mental Attribute Score instead. Anyone effected by this power will not be capable of physical violence against the Gammazon for the duration of the effect, and will instead be overcome by the basest form of lust. 

The aura tends to only effect males, and any mutations or abilities lost as a result of exposure to the aura return 1d4 minutes after the victim moves out of range. Any victim who survives contact with Gammazons is 75% likely to be merely embarrassed by their own lusty behavior, while 25% fall hopelessly in love.

1 out of 24 Gammazons will be a Gammazon Queen, which is like a regular Gammazon but hotter, better equipped, and more dangerous.

illustration by Vo Minh Mcburney

Back From the Grave/ Christmas Field Report

American Barbarica is back in business after too long an absence. In the unlikely event that anyone is curious, a brief recap of the past three months:

1. I got accepted. Holy crap.

2. This lead to a complete restructuring of my life. I still have a full time job, and 100+ hour work weeks leave little time for the kind of nerdy endeavors to which this site is nominally dedicated. Fortunately, most of those hours are spent in creative work, so I have decided to keep living for now.

3. The Moldvay thing is in semi-permanent retirement. Bumout. Last I heard, Our Heroes were stuck in the middle of a Godforsaken Wilderness, and were hanging out with a bunch of Werehorses. Will they ever make it to Agartha and discover the Hollow Earth? Who fucking cares, those two sentences are awesome together.

Anyway, at some point I took the blog offline and then kinda forgot to reopen it. I didn’t mean for it to go this long. Time flies, much like the TARDIS.

*END RECAP*

*BEGIN CHRISTMAS FIELD REPORT*

Having some days off was weird. On Thursday I theater-hopped a triple feature and managed to catch Tron Legacy, Black Swan, and True Grit for the price of a single ticket. Eat it, Regal Cinemas. I found myself completely enjoying the three films, but ultimately decided that the combination of all three constitutes a film much greater than the sum of it’s parts. All my mind remembers is a six hour epic about a one-eyed law enforcement program riding the trail in a digital outland in order to bring an evil electronic bird woman and her gang of outlaw lightbikers to justice. Woo child!

Christmas Eve was pretty much ten hours of Fallout: New Vegas, followed by dinner with friends. I am ashamed to admit how uptight I got while watching my friends’ three year old son Oliver play rough with an ALF doll. Someone had told him about ALF’s appetite for felines, and Oliver -a noted cat fancier- decided harsh retribution was in order. Repeated body slams followed, along with anguished internal cries of “NO DUDE! BE GENTLE! HE’S VINTAGE!”.

Nerd alert, dudes. Caring about the wellbeing of a 25 year old stuffed animal that doesn’t belong to you is abnormal psychological behavior.

Christmas Day was more Fallout followed by more dinners, followed by another dinner, quickly followed by Sailor Jerry’s Rum, and a few rounds of Apples to Apples. The Doctor Who Christmas Carol closed out the evening and reminded me of the True Meaning of Christmas: Outer Space, Frozen Girlfriends, and Romantic Carriage Rides Pulled By Flying Sharks.

God bless us, every one.