John Carter of Mars - Tarot Cards - Modiphius (2d20 System).pdf

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THE GHOST OF THROXUS

BARSOOM

FROM THE AIR

THE AIRSHIP QUAYS

THE CARRION CAVES

THE FORBIDDEN LAND

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®/© ERB, Inc.

BARSOOM

FROM THE AIR

Everywhere Barsoom’s landscape is a relic of the past. The north-

ern hemisphere is no exception. Throxus, the mightiest of Bar-

soom’s ﬁve oceans, covered the planet from Horz to the equator

and reached perhaps as far as the Artolian Hills. Its phantom still

haunts Barsoom. Green Martians hunt amongst wind-honed reefs

of prehistoric coral. Wild banths stalk their prey across undulating

lowlands shaped by wave and water. Herds of thoats and zitidars

roam uplands that were formerly sloping shores. And in the eerie

canyons of parched submarine trenches, white apes hunt their prey.

It is not a place to venture alone.

A barren landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. In the

distance, mountains grow tall and stark. Wind and time have

sculpted their slopes and faces into phantasmagoric shapes

thrown into sharp relief by sunlight and deep shadow. At their

base, a tumble of foothills leads out to a plain scarred by arroyos

that have been dry for millennia. Here and there, pits and circu-

lar basins pock the face of the desert. As the sun shifts, outcrops

of quartz spark like muzzle ﬂashes. There is no water here. Only

the crawling, ever-present yellow moss suggests life is possible.

THE GHOST OF THROXUS

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THE AIRSHIP QUAYS

The docks teem with activity. Just inside the city wall, the military

quays rise to a height of ﬁfteen hundred feet. These are the berths

of the naval airships that ply Barsoomian’s sky and safeguard the

nation’s interests aboard. Beyond and beneath these, towards the

city’s heart, are the freight and passenger wharfs. Here, the mer-

chant squadrons of inﬂuential trading families load and disgorge

their riches while the packet ships carry travellers and mail to their

varied destinations. Where the ﬁligree lattices of the naval quays are

orderly and precise, the robust mercantile jetties and landing stages

are a swirl of colorful commotion.

®/© ERB, Inc.

The cavemouth yawns, exhaling an unpleasant sigh ripe with putre-

faction. A dribble of foetid matter runs from its stone lip, carrying

rags of skin and tattered cloth. Inside, the stench is overwhelming.

Dead bodies ﬁll the cave. They lie jumbled and half-frozen, their

ﬂesh blackened or blued with decay and sloughing from the bones.

Many are swollen to grotesque proportions, their faces horribly

distended, their lips peeled back in one awful grimace after another.

Some have ruptured, spilling entrails and ichor. Most appalling of

all, many are half-eaten, their clothing and harnesses chewed away

by whatever carrion-eaters dwell deeper in the caves.

THE FORBIDDEN LAND

The sheer brilliance of the glacier is dazzling. Its vast expanse of

ice extends to the distant mountains, glittering like powdered

diamond. In various places jagged rocks thrust up from the

frigid plain, their black outlines severe against the whiteness of

the snow. Chill blue shadows, almost invisible from the ice-bar-

rier, hint at where crevasses gape, ready to swallow the unwary.

Cold nips the skin, freezing out all sense of smell as a bitter gust

raises ice-devils from the snowﬁeld. Nothing else moves in this

dead landscape. Then, at the edge of vision, strange centaur-like

creatures move into view.

THE CARRION CAVES

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ARENA OF DEATH!

THE PIT OF TJANATH

LAND OF BLOOD AND ICE

AAANTHOR’S AVENUE OF QUAYS

THE AIRSHIP’S DECK

Modiphius Entertainment gives their express permission for these cards to be reproduced for non-commercial purposes.

THE PIT OF TJANATH

Like an enormous crater, the arena appears punched into the

earth. Its tiers of seats gather at the rim like ejected matter,

climbing in ranks to shadow the killing ﬂoor. Parts of the sta-

dium have collapsed. Its sand is strewn with blocks of toppled

masonry and darkly stained. Crude repairs have shored up walls

with reclaimed stone, ribs of airships, and sorapus timber torn

from who knows where. Lining the arena and preventing any

escape are wooden trellises reinforced with stakes and metal

talons. They jangle on corroded chains. Above them, savage

thoat-skin banners stir in a ﬁtful breeze.

The echoing roar of the river ﬁlls the colossal cave and reverber-

ates down a passage plunging deeper into the earth. All around,

the rock sweats coldly. A dank, musty odour rarely sensed on

Barsoom ﬁlls the air. It would be impossible to ﬁnd an escape if

not for the countless radium particles glittering in the cavern

walls. Their wan light shines on a shore that edges the river

in a jumble of rocky masses and sliding shale. Pale vegetation

crouches over the path, ﬁlling the air with strange scents. Up

ahead, a huge white lizard moves with the sound of steel on

stone.

ARENA OF DEATH!

®/© ERB, Inc.

LAND OF BLOOD AND ICE

Blood spatters the snow, crimson on white. The beast’s howl

thunders in the narrow, frozen deﬁle, cracking the ice with

its fury. Its hot, stinking breath billows, clouding vision and

turning the stomach. Rock shudders and a ﬁne grit ﬁlls the

trembling air. Above, the setting sun transforms the sky into a

raw, open wound. The creature stamps, shaking the earth. Claws

tear at the ground as it turns its terrible face and snarls. There

is blood everywhere: on the snow, on torn ﬂesh, on the beast’s

fangs, and in the sky. This is a land of blood and ice.

®/© ERB, Inc.

From the empty plaza, a broad thoroughfare leads directly to the

ancient quays. It is lined with monoliths. Many remain vertical; oth-

ers have fallen across the boulevard or crashed backwards, smashing

through the palaces behind. Time has done little to dull the beauty

of the stone and, upright or prone, the monoliths shine richly,

vermilion and sapphire, amber and aquamarine. It is di cult to

imagine the city populated with thousands of Barsoomians all going

about their daily business: trading, conversing, laughing. Now noth-

ing disturbs the melancholy silence of this vast, redundant seaport

but the soft susurration of its iridescent dust.

THE AIRSHIP’S DECK

The airship heels to port, striking the enemy vessel a grinding

blow. Wood splinters. Metal shrieks. Locked together like lovers,

the two ships become one curve of sweeping deck. The air is ac-

rid with smoke from burning skeel. Fire blooms, blasting a cabin

to pieces. Sorapus debris clatter down and the air is suddenly

sharp with splinters. Flames leap from ship to ship, crackling

into the upper works. A dull concussion somewhere below caus-

es the deck to tilt eccentrically. Carborundum aluminum struts

wail in protest. The buoyancy tanks have ruptured! Inexorably,

the airships began a slow, spiral tumble to their doom.

AAANTHOR’S AVENUE OF QUAYS

®/© ERB, Inc.

Modiphius Entertainment gives their express permission for these cards to be reproduced for non-commercial purposes.

THE CITY OF MORBUS

THE RUINS OF THARK

THE RAVINES OF MARS

Modiphius Entertainment gives their express permission for these cards to be reproduced for non-commercial purposes.

WAR IN THE AIR

SAVAGE BARSOOM

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