The Story of Carl

 

Carl is old.  Carl is really old.  Carl is really, really old.

In fact, Carl is so old that there is a nasty rumor going around that he’s a lich and has simply forgotten it.  It’s possible, given that Carl is so old he’s forgotten more about magic than most wizards will ever know. 

Of course, that’s also a problem.

When Carl started out on the road to wizardry there were none of these newfangled wizard schools and adventuring parties were likely to die 12 feet into a dungeon due the deadly falling block trap that was always conveniently put there.  That’s back when being a wizard actually meant something.  Or so Carl says. 

He started, like most young would-be wizards, as an apprentice to an existing wizard.  Back then wizards were old men with beards who jealously guarded their spells and built solitary towers to defend against other wizards and generally held a scorched earth policy as being “a bit understated”.  Those were the days, as Carl will tell you, even if you don’t ask.  The “good old days” when the wizard motto was “There’s no kill like overkill!”.

In those days a young man would apprentice to a wizard and spend his time as little more than a slave, fetching water, cleaning, cooking, gathering weird components, and dodging spells as their masters attempted to test out new magic.  The only way to learn magic was to be cunning, staying up late to learn the basics from the tomes that were forbidden to be touched while the master was awake, and then, after many hard years if you were lucky and extremely talented at survival, you’d escape with some stolen spells and maybe a wand and start your career.  The good old days.

Carl escaped his master with a few stolen spells and a wand, as tradition demanded* and immediately set about finding an adventuring party.  As Carl will tell you, constantly, regardless of whether you’ve asked or not, adventuring parties were always looking for wizards in the “good old days” and they knew how to treat a wizard.  There was a general fear of, and respect for, magic in those days.  It was wild and unpredictable at best, and only the most powerful wizards could even hope to exert even the least control over it.  Oh yes, let me tell you, adventurers knew what a wizard was worth back then, kids.  Every wizard worth his components was a specialist, always having the “right” spell for the “right” job.  Or, more accurately, considering any spell they cast to be “right” for the job by virtue of their casting it. 

Like any young wizard fresh out of training and in the working world, Carl had dreams of building a tower, summoning succubae, and torturing apprentices, but all of that would require money.   Thus Carl kept working the adventuring circuit, but time passes, sometimes quite quickly, and Carl saw the adventuring game and magic change a few times over his many years.  The more it changed, the less he liked it.  The less he liked it, the more he resisted it, and one day he just decided he wasn’t going to do it anymore.  He gave up his dreams of a tower and an apprentice and summoning naughty demons and started phoning it in.  He’d already gained his title, The Lightning of Wrath, and he really didn’t care much about all this wizard academy nonsense and all these hippie attitudes he was seeing among the “kids” in the adventuring parties.  In his day a Druid was a Druid.  They weren’t some tree-hugging sissy.  After the Goblin-Faerie War of Terrortree Forest, where he worked with Goblin Field Marshall Cuspis the Dry Toothpick To the Eye, he really had had enough.  He took a position as a court magician for some nameless minor baron and settled down to a life of doing absolutely nothing.

Because Carl is old.  Carl is really old.  Carl is really, really old.  In fact, Carl is so old that there is a nasty rumor going round that he still owes Moses money.

Carl was fully prepared to retire on his pension when his employer was overthrown by an adventurer who’d just established his own keep nearby.  His home in smoking ruins, his employer dead, and his pension no longer in existence, Carl didn’t know what to do with what remained of his life.  The only things he had left were his magical staff, a portion of his spells, and a letter he’d received from the same Cuspis he’d worked with years before.  The letter was an offer of employment serving the would-be world conqueror Morcar.  With no other options open to him Carl made the journey and joined the Wizards of Morcar, a decision he regrets every single day of his life.

Personality: Carl is old.  Carl is really old.  Carl is really, really old.  In fact, Carl is so old that there is a nasty rumor going round that his first familiar was a dinosaur.  Carl is also a being of pure evil.  Well, he would be a being a pure evil if he was in his prime, but as he is not, he’s mainly just grouchy.  Nothing makes Carl happy.  The world has changed and Carl doesn’t like it.  His back always hurts, he’s going bald, he has a bum ticker, and the temperature is never quite right.  Not to mention he has to work with these “kids and this stupid dogman thing”.  Carl will go into long tirades about the “good old days”, which tends to confuse his co-workers because half the things that Carl claims seem most improbable, or at least historically inaccurate.  Being quite set in his ways, Carl refuses to research new magic or learn any new spells, although it might be Wizard Dementia, in which case he simply cannot.  However, since he’s not even inclined to try, nobody actually knows.  Cuspis has become concerned that Carl is actually bipolar but even he doesn’t suspect the truth.  Carl once invented a spell that he claims “will fix everyone’s little red wagon” but he can’t remember it and it is not in any of his spell books, leading to the suspicion that he’s confused or lying.

Likes: puns, Thin Mints, kicking Dingle

Dislikes: kids, other wizards, other people, weather, Dingle

The Truth:  Unbeknownst to anyone, including Carl, is that Carl is not Carl.  Rather, the being called Carl the Lightning of Wrath is not the being that Cuspis met at the Battle of the Stump That Looks a Bit Like a Wang.  That Carl died in the battle.  Or rather that Carl’s psyche died in the battle, but not his body.  When Cuspis cast his conjoined Temporal Stasis and Dimensional Aperture spells Carl was very close to ground zero and he was in the process of casting that spell that would, “fix everyone’s little red wagon”.  The energy from the Dimensional Aperture leapt into Carl as his greatest spell was being cast, and in the process destroyed the Stormlord…sort of.  What actually happened was a trifold crossrip that opened alternate timelines and sucked two different timeline versions of Carl out of reality and into the vacuum left by the destruction of Carl’s psyche.  Had the spell worked properly, Carl would have accessed the timeline wherein Carl allied with Morcar long before the battle, grew in power, overthrew the dark wizard, destroyed him, and accidentally destroyed the world while attempting to make himself immortal, taken the power from that Carl, and proceeded to make himself the overlord of his own reality.  The feedback from the crossrip, however, grabbed a younger version of Carl from one timeline and an EVEN OLDER version from another, and melded them together in the body of Carl as we know him.  The result is that Carl doesn’t so much remember the “good old days” as he remembers things that haven’t happened yet and that never did happen in his own world.  Which is a blessing considering what Carl could get up to if he were ever able to put his mind to anything.

Somewhat ironically, younger Carl had a destiny to invent the waffle cone.

*The tradition is, of course, for the master to prepare a few spells in a book and a wand of minor utility and leave them in a secure place that is easily broken into.  No one can say exactly when this tradition was established, but it is assumed that it was established in extreme self-interest, to prevent being murdered in one’s sleep as legends say it was in the “real good old days”.

 

The Story of Cuspis

 

Cuspis the Highly Annoyed graduated from Wizarding School with a degree in Thaumaturgy and a minor in Divination-because he listened to his guidance counselor who told him that it opened up job opportunities-and immediately found himself unemployed. After a few false starts with little success and having very little money left in his pouch, he reluctantly joined a party of adventurers. Their first and only delve into a small dungeon resulted in an almost total party kill where only Cuspis and two torchbearers managed to escape. Firmly set against becoming an adventurer again, Cuspis took any job he could find, including spending a short amount of time serving Verkonikon the Vile, and being the court magician for Rodentia the Verminlord. While hiding out from his latest patron in a local tavern he saw an ad in Summoner of Fortune magazine to serve in the Great Goblin Army during the Goblin-Faerie War of Terrortree Forest. Figuring it was better than what he was doing he applied for the position and found himself in charge of a Legion of Goblins. Due to a basic inability to do math the massive amount of goblin causalities were considered "successful leadership" by the Goblin King, who quickly promoted Cuspis to Field Marshall of the Great Goblin Army. Despite the low intelligence of his forces, Cuspis managed to forge them into an effective fighting force through a combination of elemental psychology and positive reinforcement. Things were finally looking up for Cuspis, who was now known as Cuspis the Dry Toothpick to the Eye for his reputation. Forces gathered in the forests for what would come to be known as the Battle of the Stump That Looks A Bit Like A Wang.  Cuspis was there with the entire Goblin Army, along with a number of beasts brought into service, and some mercenary wizards, including Carl the Lightning of Wrath, Flind the Fetching, and Flatus the Wind of Decay.  The fairies were ill-prepared for the battle, but unbeknownst to Cuspis a party of heroic adventurers had joined the fairies, led by Flennetar the Flayer, Scourge of Goblinkind, a paladin of great renown.  As the battle waged on, with spells flying and the blood of goblins and fairies soaking the ground, Cuspis became keenly aware that the battle was no longer between the fay races, and had instead become an adventurer grudge match.  In a key moment Flennetar the paladin kicked an attacking goblin with great force, aiming it toward Cuspis, only to have it go wide and strike Flind the Fetching in the chest.  In a rage, the vain Flind cast a Pulsing Nova Fireball spell, but not being much of an expert in fire spells it landed in the wrong spot and began to flare.  The first pulse set fire to the flowers and grass, and as it shrunk back to begin its second pulse Cuspis acted on raw survival instinct, casting a Temporal Stasis spell on the Pulsing Nova, linked to a Dimensional Aperture to siphon off the blast.  However, he did not have time to select an appropriate dimension and simply cast the spell.  The Dimensional Aperture opened into a dimension exactly identical to Cuspis's own, only where time moves backwards and this set up a loop that made the spell permanent and caused it to constantly pulse.  As a side effect, the Stump That Looks A Bit Like A Wang is constantly being turned to ash and then reforming and nobody wants to dismantle the spell for fear of what might happen.  Despite the Goblin and Fairy armies both being reduced to around 3% of the original populations, both sides claimed victory and the Goblin King offered to make Cuspis his Permanent GOAT Court Advisor.  Considering the disgusting state of life in the goblin warrens, Cuspis claimed he could not accept the honor as his destiny lay elsewhere.  The Goblin King, having no idea what that meant but not wanting to appear stupid, gave Cuspis his reward and allowed him to leave.  Unemployed again, Cuspis returned to his search for gainful employment...

Cuspis enrolled in Wizard Graduate School via distance learning, and took classes via correspondence while doing a variety of odd jobs, including identifying magical items for commission and pest control*, but after a few years he graduated from his courses with a Masters in High Wizardry!  Now over-educated in a market that can barely support low level wizards, Cuspis was frustrated.  While perusing the want ads in an outdated newspaper while using a public privy he noticed an ad for an Executive Administrator to a Would-Be World Conqueror, top benefits, management experienced preferred, contact Morcar, House of Pain, Fields of Death, 398576.  Cuspis decided to take the chance and journeyed to the location and applied.  After surviving the interview, an impressive feat as Morcar had not had an applicant survive since he'd placed the ad 4 years prior, Cuspis was hired.  His first duty was to oversee the hiring of more help.  Cuspis sent out a dozen or so letters and posted up flyers, but to no avail.  Finally while attending a mixer he ran into Pierre le Fableux, with whom he'd attended university and given that Pierre had become a proper Necromancer, he figured it was a good fit.  A few weeks later one of the letters he'd sent out produced a reply.  Carl the Lightning of Wrath had lost his pension and was looking for work.  Cuspis hired him and the three wizards set about the business of Morcar's world domination.  For the most part the job would be ideal, as it allows Cuspis to organize and direct the various monsters and traps and assets of Morcar's many dungeons, but there is the persistent problem of adventurers and his realization that he works with idiots.  There is also the problem of Morcar himself, who should he be successful in his grand goal will plunge the entire world into a hell of destruction and chaos, which it happens to be the world in which Cuspis lives and he quite likes it, meaning he spends much of his time making it look like the plan is proceeding while subtly shifting the assets to more useful and productive purposes.

Fortunately Morcar is a bit ADHD.

Personality: Cuspis the Highly Annoyed is not actually evil.  He's not even sort of evil.  He is, however, practical.  He gained his present sobriquet due to his overwhelming hatred of two things: inefficiency and Adventuring Parties.  It is hard to say which annoys him more.  The former is best represented by his employer and his co-workers, but the latter really gets his goat.  Adventuring parties always show up just after you've gotten things repaired, breaking furniture looking for traps and treasure, tracking soil and blood on the carpets, and slaughtering the staff whom they mistake for the monsters.  He loathes them.  Cuspis is famous for inventing the spell Kal-Gone, which when cast sends targets away to a dimension of soapy bubbles and leaves the gentle scent of lavender in their place.

Likes: kabobs, manly scented beard care products, hats.

*But that is a tale for another time...

It's August

It's hot.
It's humid.
I don't think I have it in me this year.
But just in case I do...
I suspect we are going to see a lot of "Classic Rewind" this year.

CELTIC PUMPKIN CLASSIC REWIND: The Glorious History of the Bedsheet Ghost

This episode of Classic Rewind takes us back to 2011 as we explore the CP's first foray into the whole bedsheet ghost obsession.  Enjoy, kiddies...


It is as classic an image of Halloween and trick or treat as any Jack O' Lantern, hobo, gypsy or kid bleeding from the mouth after biting into an apple full of razor blade...the bedsheet ghost!

Cute, non?
Iconography such as cats, bats and pumpkins are common for Halloween and are culturally part of the American Halloween tradition.  Ghosts are a part of the Halloween tradition due to their connections with the spooky in general and the fact that Halloween has its origins in a festival wherein the return of the dead is a major part of the lore.
"Ghosts I get", you say, "but what gives with the bedsheets?"

Aha, I've got you covered on that one.  Despite being a complex, intelligent and linguistic species, humans do a fair amount of their communications through non-verbal means, including body language and visual imagery.  Images (pictures, signs, diagrams) act as a visual shorthand for complex concepts that might be too large to effectively convey quickly and succinctly.  The bedsheet with two black holes where the eyes should be is the visual shorthand for ghost.  Is this sensible?  Possibly, if we do a little research, which I have done for us.  

Belief in ghosts is, apparently, ancient and varied.  Culturally we can call them shades, spirits, phantoms, wraiths, or any number of foreign words I won't reprint here.  In Appalachia the term haint is popular (a corruption of haunt).  Anyone who grew up playing RPGs on tabletop or video may be familiar with many of these terms but may also be laboring under the impression that each describes a unique creature.

The one on the left is a shade and the one on the right is unfortunate.

I digress.  Various cultures have held various beliefs in the afterlife at various times, subject to their religious views, scientific knowledge, and superstitions.  A common belief that can be found in multiple cultures at various times is the notion that ghosts are composed of insubstantial vapors, mists, ectoplasm, or energy.  In some times or cultures ghosts appear in the clothing they wore when they died (complete with death wounds) and in others ghosts appear in their grave clothes.  In this case the burial shroud, a cloth that was wrapped around the body in lieu of clothing, would be represented as the grave clothes on the returned spirit.  This would, one reasons, be not unlike a sheet.

Truuuust meeeeee...I'm spooooooooooky.

The Wikipedia  says, in its article "Ghost", that in the 19th century theater the "sheet ghost" rose to prominence as the archaic "armored ghost" was no longer capable of providing the requisite "spookiness" it once commanded.

Read the article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost#Depiction_in_the_arts

If we combine multiple ancient notions of shades being insubstantial, garbed in burial shrouds and unhappy, we can see how a sheeted ghost becomes a good visual shorthand for ghostly phenomena.  The total number and make-up of features changes, but a pair of eyes (or at least shadowy impressions where eyes should be) is de rigueur.  In order of personally observed frequency from greatest to least common the features are:

Eyes (most commonly a simple set of black holes, but can be made expressive or glowing)

Mouth (most commonly a black hole resembling a stylized O, but can be jagged, wavering or even smiling)

Nose (either an impression in the sheet suggesting something underneath or another hole, very rarely is it something else)

Hair (humorous facial hair or more rarely head hair, which is often used to denote a "female" ghost)

Ghosts having a meeting, probably to plot the violent overthrow of the household inhabitants, thankfully 4 Jack O'  Lanterns and a live pumpkin guard the living, thus the ghosts are stuck outside, talking shite and biding their time.  Note the O-shaped eyes and mouths.

Another reason, albeit a meta-fictional reason for ghosts in sheets is to make them visible to mortals.  In Beetlejuice the ghosts of the Maitlands don sheets with holes cut out for eyes as they cannot be seen by the adult mortals in the house, who they desire to scare away.  Not only do the sheets provide a form, draping over their spirit bodies, but act as a visual shorthand for "ghost".  That it does not work is part of the humor of the scene.  In Disney's Haunted Mansion dark ride the ghosts are invisible to the mortal riders' eyes until Madame Leota's seance brings their wispy forms into focus.  As the doombuggies take the riders into the graveyard dozens of "sheet ghosts" can be seen flying about the sky as a backdrop to the ghost "personalities" (such as the opera singer and the headless knight).  None of these were visible to the naked mortal eye prior to Madame Leota's establishing contact.  In this meta-fictional sense the spirit, invisible to the mortal, needs the "sheet" to be seen (but can presumably be "seen" by other spirits with no artificial aid required).

As ghosts go, the little guy to the left is atypical.  He has expressive eyes, an elongated ovoid mouth in a surprised pose and eyebrows (a rare quality indeed).  Clearly he's surprised, perhaps even spooked by you mortals looking at him.  The fingers are not uncommon either.  He's a cute little guy and I get the impression that this is his normal look.  The visual imagery we have is most definitely a ghost, we have no questions about that.  Is he friendly?  He certainly seems to be.  Why so vague a form?  We don't want to have to identify him with a single personage, which is the great thing about the bedsheet ghost; it can be anybody or nobody at all.  Yes, spooky pun! 




In Beetlejuice  and the Haunted Mansion rides the ghosts, when visible, look like normal people (bearing their death scars in the Burton film, although the Maitlands are not eternally soggy even though they died by drowning, which if the pattern of death scars held true they would be, or at least blue) or like stylized monsters.  For example, in the Haunted Mansion the fully visible ghosts are blue and glowing and look like humans, if somewhat caricatured and Betelgeuse looks like a disgusting clown-man, pale of skin, patches of mold on his dead skin, and disgusting hair and nails, while the Maitlands look normal.  Betelgeuse is  able to alter his form, change his clothes and alter his appearance drastically, while the Maitlands seem to wear only the clothes in which they died, save for when Otho summons them into their bridal clothes.  The ghosts in the Haunted Mansion all wear appropriate costumes and never change ever.

The bedsheet ghost is a contrast to this.  Rather than attempting to scare us with garish death wounds or date itself by wearing the appropriate period clothes, it is a formless blank, with only the bare minimum of features required to let us know it is was a person at all.  This is part of the great visual shorthand that immediately sums up all the notions of "ghost" without having to use the words.

This fellow to the right is a "scary bedsheet ghost" type 5, Wavering Moaner (all of these are classifications I just made up on the spot...cool, non?).  His features are simplistic and evoke both skull and Jack O'Lantern imagery, stronger with the skull.  The jagged mouth, gaping open as it does, tells us that he moans with a regularly oscillating vibrato.  Probably.




Some sheet ghosts work by going light on the details and allowing shadows and the mind to fill in the horror, others work by adding the blank staring holes-for-eyes that tell us much by their absence.  After all, if the eyes are the windows to the soul, what do the empty eye-holes of a ghost's sheet show us? 

This is a ghost costume with some unfortunate implications

So that's the bedsheet ghost in all his glory.  Possibly the single easiest Halloween costume any kid can ever make, yet immediately detailed in its simplicity and charming in its ancient evocations of memories we don't know we have.  Here in this modern age we have long since stopped using burial shrouds, yet year after year new children are conditioned into recognizing the bedsheet ghost, which makes it a classic piece of the lore, right up there with the Jack O'Lantern and superfluous bathroom amenity yard redecorating.  Whether it is cute and spooky or disturbing and ooky, the bedsheet ghost is a perennial favorite at Halloween and long may it remain so.

Taken from the classic brochure from the Gatlinburg, TN attraction that scarred me for life...

Until next time keep your pumpkins lit.

HOW IS THAT A GHOST?

Rather, How Am I To Know That Is A Ghost?

Please draw your attention to the image below:

Am I being picky?
Well, no.  As I'm always saying you have a very brief span of time to make an impression and you don't get a second chance to make a first impression.  Whether you are at the door begging candy, giving out candy, or at a party getting sloshed, you have to be instantly recognizable.  People don't need to hear a 5 minute backstory where you explain your costume, or worse where you have to show how clever you think you are for making a bad joke.  Remember what we learned last year with the Stranger Things costumes!
Our model is wearing a tattered poncho.  It's just a poncho.  It's not even well-tattered.  This poncho comes with a chain.  Our model is wearing black pants and shoes.  Is this a ghost that is into separates or are we to ignore her legs entirely?

Yeah, is that what we are supposed to see represented?
Okay, that would be okay.  Not good, not bad, just okay.  It's decent.  

Now go back to the top picture.  How are we to know she's a ghost and not just, well, a fashion victim?

Keep your pumpkins lit...maybe it will keep this sort of travesty away from your porch.

CP CLASSIC REWIND: To GHOST or Not To GHOST

Today's Classic Rewind feature is a piece from the second Halloween season highlighting your humble host's complete and total inability to pick a costume.  This also features my earliest addiction to pun reliance.  Won't you come with me down memory rabbit hole as we completely fail to answer that age old question...

What the Hell am I going to be for Halloween this year?
I've been saying and thinking for a few years now that I would be a ghost, but then I end up not.  I'm not sure why this is other than my being "inspired" at the last minute by some other idea or my dissatisfaction with ghost costuming.  The really good ones are wicked expensive or require the use of a shimmering make-up, to which I might be allergic.  I had an incident a few Halloweens back where make-up made my lips go numb, my face tingle, and made me dizzy.  Pretty scary actually.
I am not one to wait until the very last minute.  I might change my mind a few times and spend weeks agonizing over choices, but I like to get started and get done, at least with the bulk of the work, well prior to the event.  I find planning is often the hardest part.
Just the other day, as Frau Punkinstein and I were looking at Halloween decorations at Michaels, I asked her what she wanted to be this Halloween and we briefly kicked around a few ideas.  Again the notion of my ghostly aspirations from years past came back to haunt the conversation, which is most apropos, I should think.
Obviously a costume is a prime example of visual shorthand.  It must be obvious that my costume represents a ghost, otherwise I will spend all night explaining it to people, which is not top of my list of fun things to do.  Like one year in college when I dressed up as Beowulf.  I thought it was perfectly obvious given the huge severed monster arm I was carrying.  Then when I told people who asked, "I'm Beowulf" and showed them the arm, they either nodded quietly as if to say, "Very droll, English Major" or just wandered off somewhere leaving me feeling quite the fool.
I quite liked my Beowulf set up.  The next year when I wrapped some tartan around my waist, painted my face blue and strapped a sword to my back there was no explanation needed.  Lesson to be learned: you have to work with cultural expectations and zeitgeist in these matters.
So again I am thinking ghost.  Mostly because I can't find a traditional undertaker's suit that I like (not that sodding wrestler, but a funeral director).
See, in my mind's eye a ghost should either look like this:

Wallpaper image courtesy of Doombuggies.com, THE best HM tribute site I know, please check out Chef Mayhem's excellent webpage

Or failing that awesomeness, this:

Awwwww, the Littlest Ghost, he's just so vulnerable and cute

Which means I have a hard time getting a costume I really like.
I'm fond of this one:

Comes with mask, which is nasty, but not pants or cane

It has a real "Grim Grinning Ghost" vibe going on, which I like, being a huge Haunted Mansion fan.

I also like this one, but it might have "unfortunate implications" if you get my meaning

Then there are the really expensive ones that require make-up, which I have stated before, might not work.

Comes with sodding everything

$130.00...BLOODY AMERICAN DOLLARS!!!  So, not so much.
Out of luck maybe?

But then again, I do like scarecrows...

And really it's just a sack on your head and some dirty clothes, right?  Who am I kidding, I nuke it every time.  I will end up wanting that "personal" touch, which means no simple sack for me.

So really the problem is not in the least solved and August is already in its second week.  Bloody.  Hell.

Any guidance would not be frowned upon.  Keep those pumpkins lit.

PUMPKIN SEEDS: CP Classic Rewind: A Ghost With A Lantern

Here's a classic originally written in December of 2015, but as it is about ghosts, I think it's a great choice for our Classic Rewind.
Journey back to my mind of 3 years ago as I ponder why a ghost would need, or even want, to carry a lantern...

I was looking at some old D&D stuff and I came across this image in the AD&D 1st edition Monster Manual.

It's a ghost.
That is the illustration for the ghost entry, I mean.  So you have this ghost, running about in what I assume is a graveyard from the faint images behind it, and it's carrying a lantern.  This struck me as odd.  Why would the ghost be carrying a lantern?  Can it not see in the dark?  Note that the handle of the lantern can be seen through the ghost's translucent fingers (unless I'm imaging it), so that means it is an actual lantern, not a ghost lantern.
Is this something a player can leverage?  Like, we don't want to carry torches because then we can't carry a weapon and a shield and you can't cast spells holding a torch and the thief certainly doesn't want the light when she's all hiding in shadows, so let's hire a ghost, they carry lanterns.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I read the entry on ghost, to see if there was something about this lantern.  Nada.
Zip.
Zilch.
I did learn that ghosts just flat out age people 10 years unless they make a saving throw (and in 1st edition any Cleric above 6th level was immune to it).  And that they all attack with a magic jar spell to attempt possession.  Failing that they semi-materialize and start wailing on people.
This is one of those things that youngsters, spoiled by their more modern editions always fail to appreciate.  Undead would seriously hurt you in the old days.  Age you, drain your levels, and other nastiness, and they were almost always impossible to hurt without a bit of magic.  This is why the Cleric's Turn Undead ability was actually useful.
Magic Jar was one of those spells that seemed to exist to give the game flavor.  It's almost never used by PCs because it is almost unusable.  First the wizard has to get a gem or something, this is the "jar" in question, and put his soul into it.  Then when something living comes near the gem the soul inside can attempt to possess the body, effectively booting the owner's soul out, or at least putting it into passenger mode.  Only the gem cannot detect what the body actually is that is near it.  When are you going to use this?
Well, it is one of the spells required to achieve Lichdom...but outside of that?  I suppose if you were really sneaky you could sneak into the dragon's lair while it was out looking for cattle, cast Magic Jar on one of the gems in the horde and then wait for the dragon to come home and try to possess it.  I don't know what you'd do then.  I guess commit dragon suicide, go back into the gem and then go back into your own body.  Possibly.

Since the ghost does not have a gem or anything it's just an attempt at possession, but the DM is supposed to use the magic jar spell rules to "simplify" things.

Not the point.  So I was wondering if this ghost with lantern thing was common and I did some Google searching and did not find much.  The odd story here or there, but no, ghosts running around in graveyards carrying helpful lights not high in the search results.

So I ran over to AD&D 2e to see if the ghost there kept its lantern.  Instead I got this:

No lantern.
Not particularly scary either.  Then I remembered my New Dungeon board game from back in the day and with the help of BGG I found this:

Aha!  Lantern!  And possibly tits.  It might be the light, but I think that sheet ghost has both booty and boobies.  It seems a bit feminine.

But then we have Classic Dungeon released only three years after New Dungeon in 1992 (because TSR knew how to milk a cash cow before WOTC ever did).  Kind of creepy, that one.  It's doing the whole, "I've come for YOUooooooooooooooooo!" pointing thing and it is vaporous with a skully face and I think it's wearing a Celtic cross.

Reminds me a bit of my favorite Gatlinburg brochure.

So here's what I think happens.  You die, and you become a ghost, and there is this Ghost Relations Bureau and you have to get a Ghost Job.  They probably look you over and if you died in some gruesome way connected with say, a bridge or a tree or something, they just send you back there to scare people.  Then after a certain number of years, if you work hard and age enough people, then you get to move up to some other position.  Maybe a house haunting or something.  Now, if you die and you don't look gruesome or impressive, like say you had a heart attack while playing WoW or something, your lame ass has to wear the sheet.  And carry the lantern.  It's like they really want you to have a chance at this whole ghost thing, so they give you a ghost uniform, which is a sheet, as we established years ago, and then you get the lantern and off you go; a haunting, so to speak.  Then, if you manage to survive, as ironically as that sounds, enough adventurers and what have you, you get to qualify for a better job.  But you never forget the lantern.  Oh no.  You tell stories to the younger ghosts about the "good old days" when all a ghost needed was a sheet and a lantern, none of this hi-tech CGI nonsense you have now days, no siree, just a sheet and a lantern, that's how we did it in the old days.  You showed up, waved the lantern, aged a few adventurers, maybe possessed the Fighter and chopped up the Cleric.  Back when haunting was real haunting and a ghost was a real ghost and your hits aged 'em and they could only attack you in the ethereal state, even if they had magic.  None of this namby pamby shit you kids have now.
Nope, you never forget the lantern, kids.

So, keep your (pumpkin) lanterns, lit.