Saturday, September 25, 2010

Maggy Muckalee
If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may have noticed that Jeff and I have been totally geeked up about this new Carnage Cream project we have been working on. It is the culmination of years worth of interests enjoyed by us and a few friends, as well as that which sparked the mountains of derision heaped upon us by others.
So...I thought a little change was in order.
Aside from continuing on our D&D/LOTR-styled parody (which, incidentally, has grown like a large post-it shaped fungus on my dining room walls, and the 5 by 6 foot map of Secunda Terra growing on my hallway wall), I have also been working on my other project, The Black Worm. I am several pages into two books for this series. I would like to be able to finish one up before the next Fluke, but I ca'nt promise anything. We'll see how things turn out. I should have two new Hairballs and a totally new title (completely unrelated to everything else, but a sort of companion piece to Flex Fantastic.... sorta) by then.
The image you see above is from the Worm. Her name is Maggy Muckalee. She is one of the major-minor characters in the series.  She is a Riverling, a semi-aqautic river person, as well as the caretaker of Edith Fishbinder.
You might see her in a book one day.


Friday, September 24, 2010

Creamy Goodness

A giant slime mold cultivated and grown over a century in old Zwieback's castle. No one can remember exactly why the project was started or what it was for. When the slime mold was accidentally rediscovered by Kaweezel, a young wizard-in-training, it was locked away in the lower levels of the catacombs, trapped and left to rot for all eternity. But rotting is something mold seems to thrive on ...

Beware the secret door. Beware!

- Jeff Tuffenstuff

Monday, September 20, 2010

"Beneath the bones of shattered homes
The Whiskers lie in wait,
For the Fusty hordes who do adore
A Whisker on a stake..."

from the Whisker Poems


Thursday, September 16, 2010

Born under a Bad Sign

Grizzlebeard, practicing with his favorite
throwing axe: Cleaver III
It's no big secret that Rootbeard the Ranger is my favorite character in the Carnage Cream-verse so far. I have a special place for Flik and Hippalonia in my heart, but Rootbeard ... that dude is just fun to draw. And because I loooove him so much ... I'm going to bore you with his family history! You're welcome!

All real rangers trace their family roots (ha! get it?) to Lonebeard, the Ranger. He explored, kicked butt and tamed wild beasts. And decided his sons and their sons should do it too. A few centuries later and a little procreation ... and the Ranger Rules were born:

1. You must be able to trace your lineage to Lonebeard, the First.
2. You must explore and gain dominance over a harsh and unexplored land.
3. He who proves worthiest, will become keeper of the Lonebeard Shrine and become Master of Lonebeard Mountain.
4. You have to grow a beard. A long one. And you can't cut or wash it. Ever.

So who is the guy in the picture? It's Grizzlebeard. Rootbeard's father and keeper of Lonebeard Shrine. He's dead now. And his three sons are trying to get control of the grand prize (see rules above). The oldest brother, Shroombeard the Stiff, is looking for a Monacraton (a mythical, giant-sized insect) in the Rasadian Desert. The second oldest, Thistlebeard the Seaman, is on a sailboat headed toward Ichanthia. And Rootbeard the younger has decided to stay close by and make a name for himself and explore Darkwood.

And before anybody thinks I've run out of "creamy" titles ... 

"Born under a Bad Sign" was a song written by Booker T. Jones and William Bell, and later covered by ... (wait for it) ... Cream! On their album Wheels of Fire.

- Jeff Tuffenstuff

Saturday, September 11, 2010

In case you ever wondered what otters sounded like...

I recommend that you listen to number five on the list...

Lutria, my land o' tis of thee, how I long to look upon your lovely fishing industry...

Eoardic of Gludheim
At last! Finally we come to to that little place on the far side of the world....LUTRIA!
Sitting next to the Styrian Ocean, Lutria is made up of streams, creeks, burns, kills, licks, brooks, rivers, rills, rivulets, lakes, ponds, pools,swamps, bogs, marshes, lagoons, inlets, estuaries, coves, bays, sounds, fjords, canals, & ephemeral waterbodies in the west. It is the very definition of a wetland.
The primary inhabitants of this land are a race of four foot tall talking otters.
Not unlike the Vikings in our past, the Lutrians are noted explorers, boatmen, and fierce warriors.
Although highly adept and frivolous in the water, they often use boats to get around. This is mostly for practicality. There are many occasions, at home or abroad, that require the transport of passengers or cargo. Another reason is for safety...especially when travelling the waters of the Styrian Ocean. Many dangers lurk within those waters. One of the most feared creatures is that of the megalodon. It is a giant shark, reputed to be around 70 feet in length. That's a mighty big appetite.
The Lutrians have come into contact with the various peoples that live in and around Messpit. This is mostly for trading (although, there are some Lutrian pirates out there), as well as joining up with the Fellowship Industry in order to achieve wealth, fame, glory, and to legally cut people up.

I came up with the Lutrians for a roleplaying game that Jeff developed several years back. In it, the action revolved around a place called Darkwood. I went a little overboard whilst creating my character, and ended up creating his whole world....right down to maps, food, politics, religion, and the sects that were breaking off from the main church. Sadly, my little guy did'nt really make it that far into the field of action. But he left behind a legacy, one which I continued to develop.
Alas, poor Eoardic...I knew him well....

...And one more thing. The writing you see in the image is obviously futhark (old runic alphabet). Over the years, I decided that they should have their own writing style, no matter how viking-like they were. So I began the long process of language development...which is still under way.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Ogres, Ogres, we all scream for Ogres...

Due to their unusual parentage, ogres come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. The race of the mother will often determine the size of the ogre. For example, if the mother is human, the creature will be smaller. If the mother is trollish, it will be larger. Add diet and exercise and you've got yourselves an ogric smörgåsbord.