The Great North - Visual Delights

In the background, quietly, as my Yoon-Suin 2nd edition projects nears final fulfilment, work has been going on in relation to The Great North. Behold, some more glorious Tom Kilian art:

Not bad, eh?

The Greatest Book in the History of Books

Do you know about the Japanese kids' book phenomenon, Kobito Zukan? Literally translated it means something like 'dwarf encyclopedia' or 'gnome encyclopedia', but all of the English translations of kobito aren't really satisfactory because they come with too much baggage. Written and illustrated by Nabata Toshitaka, the conceit is that there live alongside us very many species and subspecies of little people, who have evolved to fulfil particular niches; each book describes some kobito and their habits and behaviour, in the manner of an old-fashioned reference volume about animals or dinosaurs that one would once have found in one's local library. The main commonality between all of the varities of kobito is that each has a tentacle, or tentacles, on their heads, called the touchin, which they use to manipulate objects, put on displays and so on.

Kids love the idea because it is suggestive that there is a hidden world of little people living alongside us and who are often responsible for much of what we experience in our day-to-day lives, whether by putting the nasty mildew smell into a wet towel or making loud thumping noises on the roof during a rainstorm. But adults love it too because it is so wonderfully imaginative and evocative, and often hinting at mysteries waiting to be discovered:

This is the 'ochiakimijika', which has a shape like the leaves of a maple tree and hides among fallen leaves in autumn - the book tells us that nobody knows what they do during the rest of the year.

This is the 'tsukushinbozu', which lives among horsetails. It is unkown what they eat; they spend their time looking for one another and, when they meet, touch their touchins; at night they bury themselves underground and hold hands.

There are lots of kobito that live in fruit and veg. Here are banana and apple varities. It is easy to tell when a banana has a kobito inside because if you leave it for long enough and its gets overripe, you'll be able to see the kobito's face inside. The apple one ('ringoshinkui', or 'apple core eater'), gets inside an apple and eats the core with its strong teeth; an apple which has had a kobito inside is very juicy and said to be the tastiest of all.

Here, at the top, is the 'osamanonioi' ('king smell'), which lives inside dorian fruits and makes them even smellier than they normally are. If there are two inside, it will be smellier yet. At the bottom is the 'mikankitsuke', which lives inside satsumas - if you ever get one which is hard to peel, it could be because there is a kobito inside.

This one, the 'nomihyotan', lives inside gourds - it drinks water with its touchin (which makes it go brown), and during the process of digestion turns this into alcohol, which it later pours out. It is like a 'nectar of the gods' to drink. 

Here are aquatic varities whose various touchins, as you can see, are like lilypads or reeds. The one with the reed-like touchin bobs around in the water and waits for an insect, like a dragonfly, to fly past, and then sucks it in. 

Here are other freshwater dwellers. As you can see, the top one, the 'oohirekamofraodiri' (this is a pun on 'kamo', which is the Japanese word for 'duck', and 'kamofra', which is 'camouflage') disguises itself as a duck; the bottom one is nocturnal and eats crayfish and small fish.

This one, 'erabikoibito' ('koi chooser') lives on the back of a koi carp, eating small insects or whatever the koi itself eats; they quickly change their minds and hop from koi to koi as they see fit.

Here is a diorama of various pond-dwelling kobito. 

This is the 'heiheimaimai', whose favourite food is snails; it has very salty saliva with which it melts the snail before eating it, and then puts the shell on its head. 

Lots of kobito varieties live alongside, and quasi-parasitise, animals. This one comes along and finds a monkey that has just given birth and sneakily masquerades as the baby's twin; even after the baby has grown up and left the mother the kobito remains, still getting looked after by the mother. 

This type. the 'shiboriochichi' lives in fields and sucks milk from the udders of cows. It stores this in its touchin, and the resulting liquid is very nutritious to drink - if babies are given it to drink, they stop crying at night. 

This type, the sakunyudoji, lives on the back of cows, eating insects, but if it can find a shiboriochichi, it catches it and steals its stored milk, catching it in its own touchin. 

Here is the 'kagekakure' (shadow-hider), which - well - hides in people's shadows, walking along behind them. It is a 'very mysterious' kobito.

This type lives beside lamposts and waits to be urinated on by dogs - this is thought to be a way to get nutrients.

Here is a variety that lives inside closets, eating insects and furballs; it is said to also help to prevent mould spreading with the fluid it emits from its body.

There are marine varieties too - this one pretends to be an anemone and sucks down fish with its touchin - even clownfish which are fooled into thinking they'll be safe.

What I've posted here merely scratches the surface. There are hundreds of different types. You can also, if you are so inclined, find out more on YouTube.

Small Worldism: A Method for Campaign Setting Inspiration

One of the best ways to come up with a campaign setting is to get down to ground level and imagine the miniature landscape in one's immediate vicinity scaled up to 100 or 1000 times its actual size. Let's call this method, 'Small Worldism'.

Earlier this week I visited Iwaisaki, an cape of unusual rock formations off the coast near my wife's hometown. In an earlier life, she and I spent hours swimming in its stunningly clear waters, occasionally stepping back onto dry land to lazily drink beer and sunbathe. Now, with two young kids in tow, we mostly spent our time there chasing them around making sure they didn't slip or hurt themselves. But I did manage to take some low level photos to illustrate what I mean. 

First, then, the overview. What we see here is clearly a vast lagoon, perhaps dozens of miles across, and surrounded by mighty rocky cliffs. At the base of these cliffs are many sea caves within which can be found entire city-states - their inhabitants trade and war with each other with armadas of vessels that continually traverse its vast expanse. (There also, naturally, here and there lurk pirates, too.) Higher up these cliffs lurk monsters, dragons, harpies, and the like. In the depths of the lagoon are crab-men, sahuagin, aquatic elves, tritons - the whole marine shebang. And on top of the cliffs are huge expanses of arid, barren badlands populated by savage tribes, outcasts and outlaws, and dotted with - natch - lost civilisations and ruins. 

Here, up close, are the sea cliffs - can't you just imagine tiny sailing ships swarming around the water beneath these towering, mile-high monoliths? Can't you just imagine dragons, manticores, hydras, harpies,  lairing in caves and cracks in their huge and variegated faces? Can't you imagine tribes of troglodytes or spider-goblins lurking there too? 

In case further evidence was needed, just take a look at some of the caves on offer and imagine what might be found inside if they were a dozen, or a hundred, yards wide:

Beyond the cliffs themselves is a huge arid wasteland of great ravines and ridges, populated by aforementioned savages - not to mention basilisk lizards, giant antlions, probably also dinosaurs, paranoid isolationist cults, liches, mummies, and formians:

Up close you can see what the terrain would be like - riven with huge crevasses and ravines, constantly subject to landslides and collapses, and terribly dangerous to traverse:

Throw in some other risks and interesting flavour ideas and you have the icing on the cake. Maybe the region is swept periodically by tidal waves and storms which cause all the inhabitants to search for shelter for weeks on end. Maybe everybody is dependent on rainwater to survive, since the entire area lacks rivers or other sources of freshwater. Maybe the depths of the lagoon harbour not just aquatic humanoids but also kraken, or leviathans, or undersea gods. Maybe there is a huge whirlpool at the centre. Maybe to make their boats the people of the sea caves are dependent on a precarious trade in wood with whoever inhabits the forested region inland... 

And so the thoughts go on. I daresay you could have as much fun in your back garden, though undoubtedly wild or rural areas are going to provide the most inspirational ammunition.