Woking, Surrey
24/12/1953
Dear Mr Lacy,
It is a strange sensation indeed to be writing a letter which one has read before. Even stranger is the idea that if I misremember parts and write something different then what I read before will have been what I have written even though I don’t remember it! I look forward - and I do remember this part - to discussing the implications with you. I appreciate now why the framed copy of this letter in your stairwell will only contain the first page.
Anyway, thank you once again for choosing me as the test pilot for your wonderful machine. I have used it for a couple of “quick dip” trips into the past of only a few minutes, and a more extensive one into some other world whose name I could not discover easily. I followed your suggestion to commission a second fork and carefully grind it with the aid of an oscilloscope and test from there
I did not remain long even for the more extensive trip as I had only a limited amount of gold with which to pay for anything and in any case, I was wary of eating or drinking without some sort of chemical testing equipment so although I spent some hours on this world I did not have the supplies to remain any longer to do more in-depth investigating.
The Arrival
Once the ringing subsided and the mist cleared I could see out of the portal that I was in a statue park of some sort and that it was either dusk or dawn (dusk, in fact). The lights above the door were all green so it seemed that I had, as hoped, arrived at a world which was closely analogous to Earth in terms of air at least. I took a moment to don the headband which would allow me to communicate and suppress my appearance. I do not know whether the latter function actually operated as intended; the city I found myself in was so eclectic in population that I may well have blended in if I had dressed as a clown!
Otherwise, as you told me, the device worked well and did bestow the ability to converse with the locals. However - and I realise that you never said otherwise - it did not allow me to read the languages.
Unfortunately, one oddity of the world was that most of my other modern equipment did not work. My mobile phone simply refused to switch on, and similarly my good camera only operated very sporadically and in the end I decided to give up on it and switched to the old Polaroid camera which I had packed specifically because it was quite self-contained although I had not really expected to use it. Consequently, the quality of the images does vary somewhat.
I stepped out onto the grass and, desiring to take some photographs immediately lest I needed to leave quickly due to hostile natives or some such. In fact, I only took this one photograph. The remaining statues were, shall we say, not family viewing for the nineteenth fifties! Not for the last time I wondered what the hell I was looking at.
Moving on, I ensured that the machine was hidden with the cloth you provided and set out to explore the city.
The City
The path from the park led out into a large circular plaza, which was relatively quiet. I felt strangely exposed in that wide featureless space and quickly left in what I later learnt was a southern direction down Festival Street where I experienced the first of many culture shocks.
Festival Street
The street, like most streets in the city, was wide and well maintained. It was also busier than the plaza I had left. The left side was taken up initially mostly by what seemed to be a theatre or assembly hall while the right was shops with houses above. The architecture varied between what I would call Quaint Cotswolds and High Tudor. A light rain started and soon everyone had hoods up - no umbrellas here.
My progress was arrested by the scene to the left. I simply can not guess what was going on here. The shop sign indicates some sort of child-care service? I don’t know. I took the photo and walked on.
I soon came to another plaza like the first except that there was a wide stone platform in the centre about four feet high. Some people were setting up a set of wooden steps on the south side of this to allow access. Everything about their activity spoke of routine; the steps were well worn and of course the stone block was a permanent feature and it was also fairly obvious that they were for facilitating an auction. To the south east of the plaza were two warehouses where I could see the goods waiting to be sold - slaves in chains. Men, women, children; all races and colours including several not found on our world.
I was chilled and for a moment even stunned to see what, after all, was routine reality on Earth for millennia and, sadly, still is in places.
I admit to being shaken and I wandered onwards pondering the question of what a “high tech” person could do here to aid the enslaved people but the scale of the city soon erased that notion. I couldn’t even get my Samsung to switch on; I was unlikely to be able to effect wide-spread social change against an entrenched slave-owning class or the traders themselves who would naturally be familiar with the concept of violence.
Once I started thinking clearly I found myself on the wrong side of the tracks.
The Thieves’ Quarter
I was in amongst a set of much narrower lanes, although they were by no means cramped. But they were less well lit and for the first time I wondered what the source of the street-lighting was.
Street of Shadows
Screwing up my courage I approached him in what I hoped was a friendly manner and explained that I was a visitor to the city - to which he replied “I sometimes think there is nothing but visitors here” - and that I wanted to take an “instant portrait” of him as a memento.
The idea of being a tourist attraction amused him and, indeed, he seemed rather more friendly than I expected. I took a Polaroid of him and let him watch it develop. I said he could keep that and that I would make another for myself. I think he agreed out of politeness but in any case that was what we did and I last saw his huge back striding off east.
I didn’t want to look like I was following him nor to retrace my steps, so I ducked down the narrowest street I had yet seen - basically a true alley - and into my biggest shock of the entire trip. And the second biggest too.
Shadow Alley(?)
The figure in purple that walked out of the darkness and into the lamp light where I was standng is shown on the left here, for want of any way to adequately describe it. A nightmare of white eyes, tentacles, and…a briefcase?
We stopped and looked at each other for a moment; I felt frozen with what I have no shame in describing as utter terror. Its tentacles moved slightly, in the way a man might drum his fingers, and for a moment I felt like something was stroking my brain. Not my head - my brain.
Then abruptly the fear lifted and the creature nodded in my direction.
A voice that seemed to be in my head said, “Good evening to you, traveller,” and he passed me in complete silence and was gone.
I sank to the ground, literally shaking. When I looked up I found a pair of, well, dog-creatures looking at me. Well, why not, at this point?
The smaller one, the one with the beret, asked me if I was okay.
“I think so,” I replied.
The larger one said, “Did he brain scan you?” and nodded towards the main street where the octopus man had gone.
“I think something like that, yeah,” I replied (as far as I recall).
The big guy seemed to smile and said, “He doesn’t think you’re important, then. Feel free to be insulted.”
I struggled to my feet with a bit of help from the smaller one who I noticed was giving me a scan of his own.
“Not from around here, are you? Looking for something? Someone?”
I shook my head but then nodded, “Actually, I’m doing research. I’m making instant portraits of interesting people in the city. I have to say that he was more interesting than I bargained for.”
“Yeah, yeah,” replied the smaller one, “He’s pretty interesting. For a civil servant.”
“A what?”
“Yeah. Big time adviser to the Overlord, don’t you know? I’m Charlie; this is Snowy.”
I introduced myself in turn.
“What’s an ‘instant portrait’?” asked Snowy.
And so I obtained the two images here. Now that I look at them again, I think Snowy might be more hyena than German Shepard, which is how I registered him at the time.
I gave them their copies and actually shook hands, or paws and hand, and I walked on down to the main street to the south leaving behind what Charlie had described as “the Thieves’ Quarter”.
Guards Man’s Road
This street was the busiest yet. Despite the increasing rain people were going about the business, mainly, of buying arms and armour and getting drunk.
Initially there didn’t seem to be much chance of getting anyone to pose or even stand still for a photograph but eventually I caught sight of an imposing man in a vivid blue. His staff and pointy hat clearly marked him out as someone considered as a wizard. And so it proved.
I never quite got to the bottom of the city’s name. Almost everyone just shrugged and said that it was “The City” or “The City of the Invincible Overlord”, whom I gathered was a ruler by designation and/or conquest of some sort.
The man, shown here, said that the city had been called “Ramshandron” in ancient times but in recent centuries had become so synonymous with its rulers that the name had more or less faded from use. Apparently, there is another even larger city called Veridistan which is now referred to almost universally as “The City State of the World Emperor” - the grandiose hereditary title of its ruler.
These names I have to admit to being approximate as I was unable to confirm spelling. Similarly, I am guessing at the spelling of the man’s name which I initially mistook for him clearing his throat before giving it. It was such an unusual one that I wrote it, as you can see, on the photograph itself as I had nothing else to write on.
The City Gate
I told this Clanweclan that I was curious to see the city from outside and his friendly manner changed somewhat. He asked if I had not already seen it on arrival.
I explained that I had arrived via unconventional means and had not.
“I suspected something like that from your device,” he said - I having already taken his photograph, “I better accompany you or there may be problems.”
He took me to the south gate of the city which he called “The Gate of the Gods” and introduced me as his guest to the captain of the guard there. This man - Rimegard - seemed to me a nasty piece of work and I was glad of the “wizard’s” company. The two clearly knew each other and neither seemed particularly happy about the relationship. But it seemed to me that Clanweclan was in some way superior to the guardsman and when he suggested that Rimegard pose for a photo I believe that he was quietly amused at the man’s irritation.
I noticed the emblem of the city seemed to be the Greek letter Phi but I assume this is some odd coincidence of appearance rather than meaning. As I said, your head device - marvellous as it was - did not allow me to comprehend symbols in the way I could speech.
Clanweclan waked me back towards Guards Man’s Road - whence he lived - and bid me good night. He was certainly the most cooperative person I met on the trip.
Street of Shadow
“You should see the other guy!” I looked around and in fact there did seem to be some work going on further along the sheltered semi-outdoors area of the tavern to remove the effects of a bloody combat.
“I spy a fellow traveller from another world,” she suddenly declared. After Clanweclan’s comment I wondered if this was normal for here.
I admitted that she was correct.
“I’m hunting a certain albino swordsman,” she said, “Would you have spotted suchlike? He’s hard to miss but I’m sure he has gone to ground.”
I said that I had not but that I was in the city to record its denizens with my image-making device so I would be keeping an eye out for such a distinctive character. This sparked her interest and lead to the photograph you see here. The idea of taking a “magic” image of a magic image seemed to amuse her greatly. I assume that the adrenaline from the fight as well as the alcohol was the main reason. Thinking of that, I asked her what the fight was about and whether it was connected with her quest.
“Oh, that,” and she spat, “that was just a man who thought that dressing for speed and freedom of movement is an invite to prying hands.”
She laughed again and said, “Well, if he keeps that up he will eventually run out of fingers; he’s down a few this evening, I can tell you!”
Her dislike of men did not seem to be indiscriminate and she invited me to join her but I decided at that point not to risk it and explained to her that I was on a time limit due to the “magic” of my arrival there. It sounded like gibberish to me but she nodded and wished me well.
She (I forgot to ask her name!) struck me as an easy lady to fall in love with, and that doing so might introduce more danger than I would like to face in my life.
Regal Street
After I had taken the second image for my own records and given his copy to him I asked him what line of work he was in and he bluntly stated that he was an assassin on his way to work. He pulled out a badge to show me!
I was at a loss as to what to say and mumbled a “thank you” and hurried on.
Caravan Street
I realised that I had walked down this street earlier without realising it while I was in my revere about the slave trade. It seemed a fairly trade-heavy street with potters, glass workers, wine merchants and so forth.
I noticed a woman crossing the street carrying a pile of books. The rain not being heavy I tried asking her for her photograph and she accepted, I think out puzzlement. It was she who informed me of the street name, which fit the types of trade, I suppose, but there was no obvious sign of a caravansari.
She said that she was an accountant, of all things. I don’t know why, but that was not something I expected here at all. Her client was down the alleyway beside where I was standing and I decided to explore. I think I was punch-drunk at this stage. But, the place seemed quite busy and so I felt a bit more comfortable than I should have, maybe.
The image to the right is the first product of this decision. The “Wizard” Paramswarn and his very impressive bodyguard.
Anyway, in the end, Paramswarn actually agreed to pose for the photograph with his wand brandished as if facing an enemy!
As I have mentioned, in most cases I took more than one image of the people I met and left one with them. Only the red-headed swordswoman wanted to have their image copied into the one I was to retain. What surprised me with Paramswarn was that he did not want a copy for himself at all.
“I know what I look like, boy,” was all he said on the subject before striding off towards the main street.
The Bonny Black Bear Inn
Following the alley a bit further I came to another inn - the city was well furnished with such. The proprietor happened to be outside the door where he seemed to be engaged in insulting passersby who did not take up the hospitality of his inn. However even those who did accept it were informed in various and imaginative ways of their shortcomings and why they should be grateful of being allowed entry. This was, I discovered, the locally renowned Anhar the Abnormal and his Bonny Black Bear Inn.
After much swearing and this, well, bear of a man extracting a promise from me to enter the premises, I was able to obtain the image shown here.
The inside of the Bonny Black Bear Inn did not defy expectations. However it did contain one surprise - the tall albino chap which the swordswoman had mentioned to me earlier that evening.
He was not as sober as this image makes him seem. In fact, he seemed absolutely plastered. I tried to ascertain, given my earlier conversation, whither this man had come but he was almost impervious to the concept of caring what another person wanted to discuss and instead rambled on about his apparently doom-laden fate, whatever that was.
Something else which does not come across in the image is the sword. Firstly, the flash has caught the strange metal and it is hard to see that the blade is in fact black under normal lighting. And it murmured to itself the whole time I was there, its owner occasionally seeming to answer some question and once to order it to shut up for a while.
I did not like this pair at all and was very glad to be able to slip away without the tavern owner noticing, which I’m sure would have resulted in a storm of abuse.
Water Rat Road
Hunger was gnawing at me by now and I decided that it was time to set off home, so I tried to get back to the park. Thinking that I had my bearings I went straight to the end of the alleyway where I made a mistake. I ended up in the riverside quarter and realised I needed to turn north. As I was making my way up this street I saw a man coming out from an enclosed area with high walls and bronze gates.
This was “Gruesome” Talienar, the custodian of Admiral Pik’s sarcophagus, apparently. Talienar was a friendly man and a priest of some sea deity who’s name I’m afraid was not familiar and which I have forgotten.
Festival Street again
I reluctantly followed the road back to the slave market plaza and was relieved to find that the area was clear of commercial activity. It occurred to me to wonder where the slaves were obtained from and what I would be able to do to resist being taken into stock, as it were. I shivered and pressed on towards the park and, I hoped, safety.
I followed the horse-riders into the stables and introduced myself. I was surprised to find that for the first time I could not manage to make myself understood to someone. The couple were apparently from some very distant land and the man - Mohow - did not know the local language. His wife, Gildea, however had learnt what she described as the Common Tongue and could converse with me as well as anyone else I had met.
They were “rangers” from distant highlands whose name I can not remember and were on the trail of some outlaw. They seemed to have some idea about their quarry and although they were quite tight-lipped about the details apparently they were planning to rest for a night and then to enter the Dearthwood - a large forest to the east of the city.
I pressed on and entered the park where, behind the statue of a satyr where I had left it I found the machine, tuned it for home and once more found myself in my beloved Surrey. In 1953.
At least 1953 electricity works so the computer and the little printer in the machine work. I (will) have buried this note and report in the place where I know you find it in 2033. I’ve spent the time to write this all up as something to pass the time for you since I know it will take you a while to arrange a rescue. Time for you, that is. I hope to see you in the morning as a very nice Christmas present.
Yours etc.
J.
Design Notes
The above blog post concerns some details of my City State of the Invincible Overlord. Many of the NPCs can be found in the original publication (or at least the “Revised Edition” which is copyright 1980). Mohow and Gildea are of course based on the characters on the cover of the guidebook to maps 1-5 and their names taken from the signature on the cover. As far as I know that cover illustration is not fleshed out anywhere and I have just had them as a possible encounter over the decades.
I don’t know when I added the mind flayer to the Overlord’s council; I thought it was actually canon but on reviewing the material for this post I can’t find any evidence of it. A few PCs have encountered him over the years, and generally fled without waiting to find out why such a thing might be in the city.
Sonja, Conan, and Elric all passed through the city at different times, mostly under the influence of various Marvel Comics.
The post in general was inspired by installing z-index on my home machine and discovering that it would allow me to generate good images in 2 minutes or so even on my obsolete graphics card. This is fast enough to allow for experimentation and tinkering with the prompts to get an acceptable output. Sometimes this was spooky - the mind flayer came out almost perfect first time, with just the eyes needing adjustment. On the other hand, I never managed to get it to depict Mowhow correctly - no matter what I tried it gave him at least a bit of a beard and moustache.
Snowy and Charlie are another two very long-running NPCs in my Wilderlands campaign whom I have described before and I put them here for fun even though they would never really enter the city openly. I couldn’t quite get Z Image to make Snowy completely albinoid; a problem I encountered with Elric too. I've never liked the dog-like depiction that DCSIII inexplicably used in D&D for kobolds but in the end I was quite taken with this version which has a lot of Doberman in its machine-learning DNA.
A final problem was with elves. I think I would need to work for a while on elves to get something better than “human with pointy ears” and in particular to get away from Lord of the Rings elves and back to the smaller D&D elves. In the end I gave up trying to depict the interior of The First-Born Inn, which has been a very popular spot in my CSIO games. Likewise, the slave market was too hard to maintain consistency and form for my graphics card. If I had three times the memory I might have been able to do it.
All “AI” systems are the result of training and the elf problem reflect that but the most amusing example was with wizards. The original of Llangwellan the Blue popped up wearing a blazer and a school tie, Harry Potter-style. Not cool!
Another weak area tends to be eyes and some of the images could do with some "infilling" as they say but it's not for publication so we can live with some minor flaws. You should have seen some of the stuff it produced for the Park of Obscene Statues! I don't know about "obscene" but they were definitely weird.
I'm quite pleased with the trick of using Φ to trick the system into generating an Invincible Overlord logo :)
I hope that the prompts used in the generation of the images will be preserved by Blogspot after the final upload so you can use or tinker with them youselves.
Anyway, there is it - in the words of Peter Snow, just a bit of fun. The framing device was a late idea and perhaps needs another draft but it’s just a blog post and I've spent four days on it as it is.
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