March Preview
Added 2024-03-10 18:49:18 +0000 UTCGreetings Mythicists! I hope your March is marching along well, with lots of good games happening :)
For this month's Tier 3 Preview, I have two images from the always amazing Jorge Muñoz. These are part of a collection of art that will be included in the next issue of Mythic Magazine, #40.
While we gaze at Jorge's work, I'd like to also offer you the chance to help turn these images into article examples! I try, whenever possible, to tie the magazine art into the text around it, usually in an example. If either image inspires an idea for you that could be used in an example, please post below. Be as brief or as detailed as you like. I'll try to choose one for the magazine when I use the image. I'll also give you credit within the magazine using your Patreon screen name.
Happy adventuring!
Comments
“Something in Red” Gorgo has led the Company of Lions for as long as anyone can remember. His soldiers have had countless victories and he has personally stained the ground red with the blood of their enemies more than any other. Rumors stated that their red cloaks were not dyed red from pigments but soaked in the blood of their enemies. Even now, they track the remnants of their quarry through the forest. The enemy had fought well and surrendered, but Gorgo would not have it. He demanded blood. Galan, the captured enemy shaman, would lead them to the camp of these savages. But this damnable forest. Behind every bush is a log that trips and along every path is a stone that slips. Their army has tired of stumbling and slipping. They lost the trail of the enemy and have grown hungry. Gorgo turned to his captive and growled, “what is there to eat in this forsaken forest?” Galan replied, “I can offer you something in red”. “And what might that be?”, Gorgo demanded. Galan answered, “the heartiest of red mushrooms or perhaps the most delectable of red roses”. “So you wish to make us a stew then…well where is the meat?”, Gorgo barked. Galan said, “Oh, I am afraid the meat is not available quite yet, but when we reach my village tomorrow, the meat will be cured and ready to eat”. “Fine”, grunted Gorgo, “prepare for us this stew”. Shortly after the hungry warriors were picking at their meager stew of red mushrooms and roses. “This is hardly a stew at all,” Gorgo complained. Galan agreed, “think of this as more of an appetizer of the meal that is to come”. “Fear not, the red roses will add passion to the broth and the red mushrooms shall enlighten the senses”. “Come tomorrow, the meat will be even more delicious than one can imagine”, stated Galan. “It had better be”, snorted Gorgo. When morning came, Gorgo awoken to a horror he could not comprehend. What kind of witchcraft had befallen them? Before his very eyes he witnessed some of his men convulsing on the ground while others started to spout hair and shriek as they shrank to tiny proportions. Gorgo began to wretch when he saw the small rodents being tied to sticks and hoisted over the fire as the morning air began to grow heavy with smoke and the crackling of wood, and flesh. What is this nightmare, Gorgo thought. As if reading his mind, Galan smiled wickedly and replied, “The meat is ready, it is time to feast upon Something in Red”, as he pointed directly at Gorgo. Just then Gorgo felt weak. He felt all together different. Mostly he felt the weight of his helmet as he fell to the ground. After he hit the ground he must have blacked out. When he opened his eyes he found that he was peeking out of a cave at the macabre feast. It was then that he noticed. It was then he understood. He had been fooled. He had been bewitched. He had been changed. The mighty lion, the red cloaked warrior was but a trembling mouse. Gorgo fought the fear and swore an oath, I will find a way to defeat my foes as I always have, he thought. He stepped forward from the security of his helmet and squeaked, “ I will not be dinner, I will not be Something in Red”.
Keith Malinowski
2024-03-11 08:22:48 +0000 UTC“That which should not be”. Acon did not have much trouble finding his way back to the Eideren. The journey was difficult, yet here it was before him, and he knew “She” was also nearby. Even after all these years, the old wreck of an oil tanker looked the same to him, a memory of a time, when he worked hard and enjoyed the fruits of his labor when he got back to port. But then “She” came and changed everything. Cost him everything. Life would never be the same, and Acon told himself he would never return, yet here he was. Maybe it really was just all in his head. Maybe he never was a crewman on this ship. Madness. Maybe the tanker simply ran aground and was left behind when it got trapped in the ice. Madness. Maybe the captain scuttled the ship in a drunken rage to avoid the consequences of his actions. Madness. Madness indeed, because there “She” was, calling to him again, from beneath the ice. The same call he has heard for so many years, except this time he was here. Somehow he was here. Somehow he made his way past the Eideren. Past the memories of that ghastly ship, the crew, the faces! He could never forget their faces! What has he done? What is he doing? But the call! It urges him forward, down the slope, across the ice. My God! I have broken the ice! I must leave, now! But “She” calls! “She” calls ! “She” is here!!!
Keith Malinowski
2024-03-11 06:03:26 +0000 UTC2nd picture: Skaarf defeated a warrior and took his helmet as a trophy, not realizing the helmet was cursed to non-Valdrans. Skaarf shrank in size just as he heard heavy footsteps approaching.
David Hassell
2024-03-10 22:24:51 +0000 UTC
