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| Master Raknar and Bloodmace invite you to DEATH!!!! |
It was cold and the rain fell steadily over the glistening pavement, puddles reflecting neon signs and car taillights. Jenkabala city is a dark and gloomy metropolis, filled with brigands and murderers and tonight Bloodmace and I were in its darkest heart. What strange circumstance brought us down the hills to this blighted hell factory? For what knowledge have we ventured deep into the heart of this soul-eating beast? Heads covered in anonymous black cowls, we move silently into the warehouse district. Once the heart of a great shield and sandal trade, the entire area has developed a strange, dense forest about it that shields it from light, even in the day and as we step off of the concrete sidewalk and onto the dirt path that leads east to the river it shuts around us like a great, shaggy tent. From every deep shadow come sighs and soft chuckles, unseen figures, watching us as we invade their land of ruined storehouses and thick twisted brush. I turn to Bloodmace, urging haste as we close in on our destination. Gone? As my eyes dart from one dark doorway to another, the world turns upside down. Caught in a net.
A dim fire burns slowly in the ornate brass hearth. Bloodmace and I are seated in chairs, back to back near the fire in the center of the huge, dusty warehouse. Around the perimeter of the fire’s glow flit dark wraiths, tatters of translucent black held together by whatever psychic force summoned them into this plane.
“Who are you interlopers? What business have you in the shadowlands?” Our unseen interrogator barks at us. We can feel it’s cold, wet form brush close. “You are not unknown here Demon Scourge. Shall I tell Jessie the Whump you have been delivered into my hands?” I cannot see the face but I hear the evil smile creeping across its ever-changing visage. Of course! Our old enemy, Lord Hedra of Dantor! We knew he could discorporate but who could have guessed how far he had come in the arts of necromancy as well! Last time we met Hedra, we lost a companion. This time it looked like we were going to lose our lives.
“No, I think I’ll keep you two for myself. You will suffer a thousand agonies in my kingdom of pain! Long I have waited for this day, and now you will both suffer for what you did to me!” I hear laughter burst forth from the direction of a tremendous wooden door at the end of the room.
“Ain’t your kingdom of pain, its mine. “ Booms a familiar voice. “And since you’re trespassing, I have the right to whip your ass back into whatever shitty dimension you crawled up out of” A motorcycle roars to life, now two, now three. Master Raknar and his skeletal warriors burst into action! With his trademark cigar dangling from the side of his mouth, the burly warrior smashes our foe in the face with a mighty blow from his Louisville Slugger spirit bat. By this time, Bloodmace had used his dark enchantments to disperse the minions of our vanquished foe and was calling up a portal to transport us back to Jenkabala palace. Leaving his skeletal henchmen to mop up the industrial forest of undead scum, Master Raknar steps into the swirling portal carrying us all into the realm of filth and perversion.
Master Raknar is an old school rock fiend and LA glam degenerates WASP are his favorite band. WASP was always the LA glam band that were not posers, that you didn't have feel embarrassed about around your fellow thrashers. They were always harder, more metal, more like Judas Priest, if Priest had more of a bluesy swagger. Their image and stage is show is what got them in trouble, looking like a more demonic than Alice Cooper, as well as more physically imposing, Blackie being 6 foot 7. The common thread defining the sound was a hard edged gutter guitar sound and Blackie Lawless' distinctive raspy wail, always sounding like three cats hung up by their tails, ripping each others guts out. We took three albums from three spanning three decades, and let the sleaze vibe ooze out of the speakers, saturating the air with wine and wenches.
First, the eponymous first LP. This was my pic of the night. It is a bruising nothing of an album, a school bus classic, filled with naughty for the 80's metal anthems like 'I Wanna Be Somebody' and 'L.O.V.E Machine'. It is a formula that was perfected on this album, an essential distillation of the basic WASP sound. Nothing fancy, just fast and loose rock and roll turned up to 11, tongue in cheek, with a cock rock swagger missing in other classic metal bands of the era. Demon Scourge thought this album sucked, and Mater Raknar showed ambivalence, but I shall deal with their treachery later.
The hearth at Jenkabala palace roars and crackles. We are seated across from Master Raknar, his eyes glowing red, sharp teeth exposed by his exultant grin. W.A.S.P. blares from the speakers and he regales us with tales of his pleasure dungeon, renown in many dimensions for its unusual selection of concubines drawn from the very furthest reaches of space and the deepest recesses of the forbidden dimensions. His is a life in service to pleasure and he is the very best at what he does.
“Your friend Hedron is a real asshole. He was causing problems for me for months, but I could never track him down, I guess I owe you guys one.” Raknar pulls long and thoughtfully at his black cigar. “Now that I think about it, what were you doing there in docktown?”
We explain our last encounter with Hedron, and how he took over the body of our companion Zodron, a mere boy in this world of metal and mayhem. We show him the talismans we have made from his skull. Then comes the difficult part.
“We need you to anoint these charms with the blood of a wyvern.” Bloodmace states bluntly “with this blessing and one more ingredient, we can enter to Dantor, home of that fuckwad Hedron and give him the ass whippin’ he’s been asking for” Now the blood of a wyvern is no easy thing to come by. First you have to find one, that’s where Raknar comes in. He happens to be the finest tracker this side of Ka-narg and if anyone can help us locate our quarry, it’s him. The other problem is the fact that, for this spell to work, you cannot merely kill the creature and take its blood. You must be given the blood by this fierce, but intelligent creature.
“What’s in it for me?” Master Raknar is also known for being a shrewd businessman. “I have an empire to rule over and I can’t just traipse into yonder forest for a hunting trip.” We were ready for this though and I spell out our offer.
“How about this, Bloodmace and I will open a dimensional portal in your realm that you can use to travel through time and space freely for the period of ten years.” Eyes narrow and the bargaining begins. When all was said and done Master Raknar had a fifteen year portal and we had a guide in the forest of Sunam. To close the deal, we listen to his favorite W.A.S.P. album.
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| Raknar displaying battle flag |
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| Bloodmace threatens the colonel |
“Get prepared boys, Sunam is no resort and its forest teems with danger, we need more than just luck in that freakin’ hellhole. What do you guys have for spells and weaponry?” We begin to list off our powers and possessions but before we can get to the end, a terrible crashing sound explodes from the chamber of the sacred gazing pool. Rushing down the spiral staircase to the oaken door, we see the wood bowing, about to burst outward. Our party clears the door just before the splintering wood explodes, embedding itself in the stone walls as If they were putty.
“I think you may need my help too” Another familiar voice speaks to us through the settling dust. A figure we can’t make out. Could it be Tolar the Mystic, come to aid us in our quest? A squat, diminutive figure pushes its way through the debris. This is indeed the voice of Tolar, but his features differ from the tall mysterious man who visited us last week. We question the stranger.“I have many forms, mortals. You may call me Ragnam in this one” His features soften as he offers his companionship on this dangerous journey “I too know something of Sunam. Let us prepare for this quest by drinking this potion of fermented blood and mushroom water. Warm greetings are shared all around, save for Raknar, lost in thought at the window.
“Long has it been since I have visited my childhood home. I must retreat to my realm to prepare. Meet me in one week at my pleasure dungeon. We have much to do.” And with that, the regal master of forty pleasures turns and departs. Bloodmace, Ragnam, and I return to the reflecting pool’s sacred chamber to meditate and gain strength on this journey.
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| The mysterious "Ragnam" |
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| Master Raknar dines with us |
As the fiery dawn breaks over the horizon this triumvirate of seekers retires to the cavern of sleep to gather our strength for this great quest. Revenge for the possession of Zodron has been on our minds much since we had to kill him and eat his brain, and now we are poised to burst unsuspected into the realm of the formless one and tear asunder the dream-gates that protect this tyrant in his lair. Will the battles never end? We probe endlessly into the depthless night, a night illuminated by brilliant stars, wheeling eternally in the skies above. Our master is the cosmos and its cruel lessons guide us through this life of sorrow and triumph. Our master is the darkness, its warmth enfolding us in Morpheus arms. Our master is nothing, and nothing is all in this void of chaos. A vacuum of emotion that we break through by force of will, and on the other side embrace one another in a show of humanity. Where can these great grey gods hide from us? They cannot, and we cannot stop fighting them. We are destined to sit beside them and rule this realm for metalheads! We shall sit upon the basalt thrones in dread R’yleh! FHTAGN!
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| Ragnam holds Bloodmace at bay with only a Gates of Slumber shirt and the colonel |
Fuck it!!! Behold WASP's grand shining moment of metallic steel and thundering hooves. BEHOLD THE HEADLESS CHILDREN!!!! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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| Until next week brothers and sisters! |
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| Hail metalheads everywhere! |
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