Last week I talked about the Dying Earth. Since this is last Monday before I get back to my Mirror Mondays, I do want to hold up another mirror, even if it is at an oblique angle.
So I find myself thinking of Yog again. More to the point, the Wasted Lands of Yog. Using the Wasted Lands RPG.
In a way, Yog is my own take on the Dying Earth setting, but I am not drawing from a single well. I have no desire for Yog to be just another Dying Earth or some other swords-and-sorcery affair with a red sun hanging over it all. Those are fun, of course, but we have a lot of games for that.
I want to convey to Yog an age that is almost impossible to put into words. The people who make their home now are walking atop entire civilizations that have come and gone. You will find kingdoms built on the ruins of older ones, by builders who could not have told you who put those ruins in place. The magic is as old as it is perilous, and one gets the impression it was better known to those who perished millennia ago than to the ones making use of it today.
History here does not run in a straight line; it is a matter of layers. Some of those layers get turned over, others have a way of waking up. I would say that is Vance’s influence.
But The Dying Earth is not what Yog is. Not exactly, anyway.
Look at the gaming DNA, and you will also see plenty of Hyperborea. Jeffrey Talanian has put together an RPG that is part old-school D&D, part weird science-fantasy, and part swords & sorcery. He takes his cues from Howard, Lovecraft, and above all Clark Ashton Smith, yet he never loses sight of the fact that it has to function as a game. That is something I value.
Yog can have its share of dying-world philosophy, but at the end of the day I need my characters to be out there breaking down doors, sifting through ruins for ancient magic and the like, or putting an end to monsters. They will uncover things best left in the ground. Hyperborea allows for that sort of thing, with its mix of horror and the odd bit of impossible science.
Then you have Zothique.
For the mood of Yog, Clark Ashton Smith’s work is perhaps the most significant. I have talked a lot about Zothique in the past. It is the final continent of an Earth in the far future. The lands we know have been under the sea for eons while others have made their appearance and sunk again in the vastness of time. The sun is old, the world is in its last age, and much of history and science is a memory. Magic is back.
Smith was at it in the 1930s, well before Vance put pen to paper for The Dying Earth in 1950. And if Vance can be dangerous, Zothique is consumed by death.
You will find necromancers everywhere. It is not confined to the fellow in black robes in the tower on the edge of town. Sorcerers are raising kingdoms from corpses, lovers won’t stay in their graves, and tombs hold things with ambitions of their own. One could be in a city and feel as though it were a monument to a civilization that has already had its funeral.
In tales like "The Empire of the Necromancers" or "The Charnel God" (two of my favorites), death is not an interruption. It is the landscape. In some places, you might not be able to tell where life leaves off and death takes over.
That is very much how I see Yog. In a sense, Zothique is as decadent as I would have it be for Yog. You will find your share of kings and princes, merchants and priests, sorcerers and torturers, not to mention thieves and wanderers. Yet one gets the impression that very few are concerned with making tomorrow any better.
Then again, why put in the effort? There is little tomorrow to be had.
Kingdoms may come and go, but no one has much faith that they will endure. Religions make their way, though their deities are likely just old ghosts from a bygone era. And while cities hold on to life, the deserts are there to swallow them up, kingdom by kingdom. It all has a temporary quality about it, even civilization itself. That is what I am after on Yog.
Vance provides the ancient world, the oddity of magic and knowledge long since put aside, and the absurdity of folk carrying on with their small-time schemes under a waning sun. Hyperborea offers the gameable swords & sorcery structure; on its map a barbarian or a witch can rub shoulders with a weird monster or some relic of ancient tech, and no one needs to make an issue of it.
But from Zothique, I take the death.
Not in the sense of a high body count, but as entropy. The end of empires and languages and gods. A city left to rot. A tradition of magic is vanishing because the last adept who knew it is gone and taught no one. Whole ways of seeing the world are being buried in the sand.
I want to put that into Yog. I want ruins whose names are no one’s recollection. Gods known only by what was chiseled into a tomb. Spells so old that the question of whether their maker was human is a matter of debate. Dead civilizations layered on top of other dead ones. The people of Yog don’t live amid the detritus of a single past, but of many. That makes a difference.
It goes some way to explaining the necromancy on Yog. The living are a minority compared to the dead, and the weight of those ages is upon us. To a necromancer, it is less a transgression than tapping into the world’s greatest resource: its history.
There are some ways in which I part company with both Vance and Smith.
As mentioned previously, I am also taking influence from other sources. Raven, Swordsmistress of Chaos is not great, but fun. I did my playtesting of Wasted Lands using Raven, and it was a lot of fun. The world fits. I am also mining Gor. Gor is not great, nor is it fun. BUT it does give me some great antagonists to fight against. Something that Vance and Smith do not really do.
There are things about Gor that are useful to me.
The city-states. The strange cultures. The decadent courts. The merchants, warriors, priests, assassins, and thieves. A world that can feel ancient and brutal even when remnants of advanced technology are hiding behind the curtains. And, of course, the Priest-Kings.
I am even using that name on Yog, though my Priest-Kings are not Norman's alien rulers. Mine are human. Painfully, disappointingly human. They rule the city-states of Yog through religion, tradition, violence, and fear.
And then there is slavery. You can't really talk about Gor without talking about slavery, particularly the sexual slavery of women. It is not some incidental bit of background decoration in those books. It becomes fundamental to Norman's vision of the world and, eventually, to the philosophy he is trying to sell.
That is where Yog takes a very different road. I don't want to recreate Gor, vis-à-vis a Dying Earth lens.
I want to burn Gor to the fucking ground.
Or, more to the point, I want the player characters to be able to do it.
I want that fantasy woman on the cover of the sleazy 70s and 80s paperback to be the one saying to the oppressors, "Everything dies. But you are dying first."
Yog is a world at the end of things, to be sure. But I don’t see everyone there as ready to make peace with it. Let the sun die if it must. Let the empire become another stratum for someone to walk on. Those still drawing breath now are going to put up a fight for it. They will face down monsters and slavers and Priest-Kings and any king or sorcerer who thinks a dying world is a license to ruin the rest of your days.
And quite a few of the people doing the fighting are going to be witches.
Perhaps that is the line between the two. The Dying Earth says "we are all going to die." Yog wants to know what you intend to do about it first.
