Top-Notch Comics #4 - pt. 3

We're still reading Streak Chandler of Mars here, but it's Professor Finlay speaking first. "I might as well tell you now, the landing gear on this ship is not finished! And...while things are getting real, I might as well fess up, there isn't enough air and food on this ship for five of us. Oops!"

The science is typically terrible for a comic book story here. Granted, we didn't know for sure Mars had no breathable atmosphere back in 1940, but we did know the distance to Mars, and there would be no way to fly there in what seems to take only a few hours -- and even if you could, there would be no way to brake hard enough to not be atomized on contact with the surface. 

Streak's player must have rolled pretty low for his Intelligence score. "Is that Mars?" "Gee, Einstein, how many other planets do you think are in this area?"

And things don't get better on the next page, when they are attacked by Martians that look like demonic Elmer Fudds wearing women's bathing suits. As comical as they look, they can shoot heat rays out of their fingertips and that seems impressive, even if they can only hit one out of three targets with them (they are not rays or cones so much as "Magic Missile" spells, from the earliest editions when you had to roll to hit for them). 

Oh Streak. Yep, your plan worked to perfection -- if your plan was to shoot all the oxygen you needed for a return trip out of the ship. 

More impressive are the strange, winged green men (you know, the blue ones) who fight with gas guns and can communicate telepathically.  

 

Oh boy...it looks like I have to add three new mobstertypes to the Mobster Manual, but these are not winners. The green men who are blue are the lokis. The Elmer Fudds are ferrugas. The octopus with a horse head is called a brontauris, which is a terribly unimaginative name. 

So far I haven't seen enough of what the lokis can do to stat them. I haven't seen the ferrugas do much either, other than shoot magic missiles. 

Now, normally, you'd think, of course you're not going to have much luck fighting with just a pocket knife against a horse-headed octopus. But this is a golden age comic book, and almost all animals get killed with a single stab. So these brontaurises must be really tough! I'm thinking at least 4, maybe up to 9 Hit Dice. It obviously attacks by constricting with its tentacles, but it isn't very strong and doesn't seem to do a lot of damage per turn.

Moving on to Wings Johnson of the Air Patrol, we see that wandering encounters can occur with unexpected frequency, Even in the middle of the English Channel you apparently need to roll once per turn. It's also possible to have a house rule that, after 1 wandering encounter, you immediately roll once in the next turn only.

 

Wings is one unlucky guy -- there's not even a game mechanic for accidental wind shear. I'm imagining a scenario playing out like this -- 

Editor: "Welcome to our first solo session of H&H!"

Player: "I want to play an aviator!"

Editor: "...You're sure? You don't want to be a mysteryman? Or superhero?"

Player: "Nope, I want an aviator campaign, and I'm naming him Wings Johnson?"

Editor: "Wings Johnson?"

Player: "Yeah, why?"

Editor: "Well, it's just that your last character was named Dick Storm. And the one before that was Spurt Hammond..."

Player: "I don't see where you're going with this."

Editor: "Fine. You know...fine! You want an aviator campaign? Wings Johnson is flying home over the English Channel in a German plane when...two British planes try to shoot him down!"

Player: "Don't I have some kind of pass code I can radio to them...?"

Editor: "There's no time! Because...As you fly low to evade them...a sub surfaces right in front of you!"

Player: "What die do I roll to--"

Editor: "And then your wing falls off!"

Player (excited): "Whoa!"

[After 3 hours of successful dice rolls]

Player: "Best session ever!"

Editor: *sighs*

Back to the comic (I think that was my longest digression ever)!

We pick up with Wings climbing his tangled parachute and we're told it's cutting up his hands really bad. Okay, I guess I can believe that would happen, but how do we handle that in-game? It seems too important to wave off as flavor text, as it could make him lose his grip and plunge to his death. I'm thinking the pain should cause a save vs. science to avoid losing his grip, but should the pain itself be flavor text, or 1 point of damage? It's got to be the Editor's call.

The bottom tier of panels does make me wish I had a Popularity or Reputation mechanic in H&H. I know I've talked about it and toyed with it before, but I don't think I have ever worked out anything concrete yet.

 

Not having any military experience, I had to look up to see if "officer of the day" was a real thing. According to Wikipedia, "a duty officer or officer of the day is a position that is assigned to a worker on a regularly rotational basis. While on duty, duty officers attend to administrative tasks and incidents that require attention regardless of the time of day, in addition to the officer's normal duties."

Which, I suppose, now makes it seem odd to me that the officer of the day who is responsible largely for administrative tasks is being put in charge of the arrest here.

Wings isn't wrong; the Spitfire was the fastest plane on the Allied side and would remain so for the next few years. The Germans would soon have a faster plane, the Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet rocket plane, but that's a year from "now."

(Scans courtesy of Digital Comic Museum.)

Top-Notch Comics #4 - pt. 2

We're back and, if you've been waiting on me to finish the Wizard's story, here it is -- the Wizard defeats the "Bundonian" sub by lifting it out of the water. That's right, he can lift at least 750 tons over his head, without even firm ground underneath him. As unlikely as that is, I have to wonder if he's not actually using some form of levitation -- contra-gravity discs attached to the hull -- and then is pretending to hold it up just for the showmanship of it? Or, hey, I'd even be willing to accept some combination of the two. 

This ending brings up the issue of what to do in your Hideouts & Hoodlums campaigns when it's well before 1945, but your heroes have already forced Germany, or your German-analog country, to surrender. One possibility is to just keep replacing them with German-analog countries ("Bundonia surrenders...but the next day their neighbors Caledonia declares war on Europe!"). Or the country reneges on their surrender, finding some excuse to invalidate it and then continues the war effort. Or, you and your players agree to a campaign where nothing the Heroes do has an impact on continuity between sessions, as if the world resets each session (very much like many golden age comic books, though I don't recommend this so much for fun campaign play). 

But you didn't come back to hear more about the Wizard, you came back for Dick Storm. Because who can resist Dick Storm? 

Here we find an unimaginatively named Chile analog called Chilan, with an unusual history. It's not too surprising that, 22 years after the 1918 pandemic, people were still worried about plagues, but Chile had not had its own plague during the intervening years. 

I wonder what the president thinks Dick Storm is going to be able to do about a plague. Shouldn't he talking to a doctor instead?

Here is a great example of Hideouts & Hoodlums' abstract combat system, and at the same time an argument against specific hit locations. At point blank range, the assassin could probably hit Dick Storm anywhere, but panel 2 seems to make it appear the bullet is going to land in his right arm or stomach. In panel 3, the bullet lands in his left arm. 

That is the worst outfit for an assassin ever. Maybe not; I suppose pink pajamas would make him stand out even more.

Rana is surprised to see how quickly Dick Storm stands erect.

Pruvians is almost certainly an analogue for Peruvians. In reality, Chile and Peru had been at peace since 1883.

"I have a plan but you need to turn your army over to me for a few days."

"Sure, what could go wrong?"

"I'll also need access to all your bank accounts. And -- heeyyy...if you're Chileans, why is your daughter blonde?"

"Rana! Despite parading around in a cocktail dress, you've managed to sneak past my entire air force and reached that plane!"

Dick swings into action! Honestly, I can't even make fun of this stuff anymore because now I think the author is in on all the jokes.

To their credit, these soldiers have had about five minutes of uninterrupted stare-up-a-dress-time as the parachutists descend, but their thoughts are entirely on Dick Storm when they reach the ground. 

The fact that the general is still standing there unarmed in panel 7 as Dick Storm is attacking him seems to suggest Dick is enjoying a surprise round, but I don't think the circumstances here would have warranted a surprise roll. Rather, I think Dick won initiative and the Editor had made no statement yet of the general's intentions. It's also possible that the general is holding his gun in the shadows of his uniform; his whole right hand seems malformed, as if hastily drawn.

In a chase sequence, the desk in the way would be considered a complication to overcome, but in a combat sequence, this panel is correct; in H&H, you can ignore obstacles in your way during melee, unless you choose to incorporate them into your flavor text (or, obviously, if you plan to pick it up and use it as a weapon!).

I remember this scene from the first Indiana Jones movie. Plane propellers are nasty weapons; I'd put this at least in the range of 3-12 damage, so no wonder the soldiers are running. 

You might have guessed that Dick Storm's plan turns out perfectly and Chile surrenders after Dick arranges for a lot of them to die. So we're going to jump way ahead towards the end of the next story featuring Moore of the Mounted. Here we see an example of a trap as a wandering encounter. This page also shows us a good example of Lawful and Chaotic Alignments and how they differ in this scenario.

Technically Sgt. Moore is right; an Olympic skier can achieve downhill speeds of ten times someone running on foot, but the average speed of the average skier is more like 2 1/2 times faster (Movement rate 30 as opposed to 12).

And now we're going to make one last jump into the next story, Streak Chandler of Mars. I think from just this one page you can tell the backstory borrows heavily from Flash Gordon, with the wrinkle of the gangsters forcing them all to leave. Streak's problems are a frequent staple of the sports genre. The art isn't very good, but doesn't Streak look awful old to be a college football player?

(Scans courtesy of Digital Comic Museum.)