LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #265: Claymore, the Sig.Warrior!

[Arthur Spitzer]

30 Years of Legion of Net.Heroes (1992-2022)!

And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive 
once again.

Here's where you can find Claymore, the Sig.Warrior! as well as other
MISC LNH stories:

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Misc/



 
And we've got Claymore, the Sig.Warrior! by Dave Van Domelen which
continues on with the whole Sound of Clashing Metal storyline!  Will
Sig.Lad be able to withstand the corrupting madness of the port 19
trap?!  Is there some relation between Claymore, the Sig.Warrior!
and Sig.Lad?!  And will Old Comics Man be thankful about being freed
from a block of ice by Claymore or will he instead start dissing
Claymore's dumb name and talk about how the the Good Old Days
were way, way better than all of this dumb modern stuff?!



Find out in...



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                                |_|  OF NET.HEROES

                                    ADVENTURES #265


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                       Claymore, the Sig.Warrior!
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Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh
From: dvandom at magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (David VanDomelen)
Subject: Sig.Lad escapes!
Date: Fri, 16 Oct 1992 18:44:01 GMT

Sig.Lad fought off the ravening hordes of random characters that trapped him in
port 19, but it was no use.  The flood of meaningless data was too strong to 
swim against, and soon he was overcome by it.
     For what seemed to be an eternity (or was it an antarctic press?) Sig.Lad 
was bombarded with contradictory falsehoods and general garbage.  He tried to 
surround himself in a cocoon of .sigs to protect himself, but it was no use.  
The bombardment penetrated even his thickest .sigs.  He felt himself going 
raving mad.  Then he got better, regaining his silent lucidity.  But he was no 
longer the same net.persona he had been.  He was evil, in an insane sort of 
way, and reveled in it.
     Using the power his insanity gave him access to, he easily broke free of 
the loop he was trapped in, and found himself back in early July.  He was no 
longer Sig.Lad...he was now and forevermore,
                    *** ACTON LORD ***
               *              *              *              *
     While Acton Lord began to use his memories to set in motion the complex 
set of events that would lead to his creation (thereby retconning Dial "D" for 
dvandom out of the post-Cry.Sig continuity), back in the present a strange 
thing was happening.
     Sidewinder, having gotten into alt.fan.goons, found a strange ragged idiot
that bore a striking resemblance to Sig.Lad, except that he seemed somehow... 
unstable.  But before he could investigate this further, he was distracted by a
reference to marmalade and crossposted to alt.breakfast.foods, leaving behind 
the ragged idiot.
     The ragged idiot wandered the .goons group for a few days, until he 
stumbled into a catchphrase and fell into the water.
     "At last, my memory is restored!  The contact with water broke the memory 
block I suffered from!  I am truly,
     *** Claymore, the Sig.Warrior ***"
     Thus, Claymore immediately felt compelled to swim to the arctic and hassle
some eskimos (why are there eskimos in the Atlantic polar regions?  Ask 
Kirby.).  Once he got there, he found a strange figure frozen in a block of 
ice.  Intrigued (hey, he's a good guy!  He's not gonna just chuck it in the 
ocean!), Claymore attached the heating unit from his outfit (how else do you 
think he survived swimming in the Arctic?) to the block, and melted it open to 
reveal
               *** Old Comics Man ***!
     "What's with all these asterisks?  Why, in my day, we had two ways of 
writing things:  normal and boldface!  And we LIKED it!  And what's with teh 
two part name?  'Claymore the Sig.Warrior'?  In the old days heroes had one 
name, and maybe a secret identity.  Which one is your real name?  Claymore's 
awfully stupid for a real name...unless you're an alien invader?  Naw, ya ain't
got any z's or x's in your name...."

     Dave Van Domelen, sitting on the ice with Old Comics Man and perhaps 
regretting it....





<Scene: opening splash panel, Claymore the Sig.Warrior is swimming away from a 
tiny island in the North Atlantic.  Old Comics Man is sitting on that island 
prating on and on....>
     "And another thing!  That heated costume of yours!  In my day, we had 
three temperatures in comics:  Absolute Zero, Surface of Sun and Not Too Bad!  
Why, Swimming Man used to swim in Liquid Nitrogen with nothing but a pair of 
trunks (none of these Speedo things, neither) and whale blubber smeared on his 
skin!  And that's another thing!  Those damn environmentalists stopping us from
getting good wholesome whale blubber...."
     The annoying voice thankfully faded as Claymore swam away from the island.
Luckily Old Comics Man disdained mylar snugs, so couldn't enter the water to 
follow him.
     Eventually, Claymore happened onto a Norwegian Cruise ship, and climbed 
aboard.  Presenting his Zardon Express card to the purser, he booked a cabin 
and enjoyed a leisurely cruise back to the US.
<Scenery: two page spread of typical cruise ship activities, intended to give 
flavor of the cruise.>
     About three miles from US territorial waters, Claymore was roused from his
game of shuffleboard by the sound of gunfire.  Since the skeet shooting 
competition wasn't until 4:30, the Sig.Warrior knew that trouble was afoot!
     In fact, it was a very large foot!  A disembodied foot, leading a squad of
terrorists, had seized the bridge!  Claymore leapt over an arch and soon was 
toe-to-toe with the vile villain.
     "Who are you, you large podiatrist's nightmare?" asked Claymore, referring
to the foe as large, not the podiatrist.
     "Men call me PEDERAST!"  shouted the foul foot.
     "What? <snicker>  Do you know what that means?"  Claymore could hardly 
contain himself.
     "What?  What do you mean?  It has to do with feet, right?  PED- being a 
root for foot!"  Despite his protestations, the foot seemed uneasy.  Had he 
made a mistake in not consulting a dictionary?
     "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!(tm)"  Claymore rolled on the deck laughing as the 
terrorists looked on puzzled (well, a few had looks of resignation on their 
faces...they had *tried* to tell the boss....).  "Pederast suggests an entirely
different body part, you moronopod!  <gasp for breath>  HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!   
Whatta maroon!  Whatta ignoranamus!  I haven't met such a stupidly named foe 
since 'Inferior the Nuclear Man'!"   Claymore proceeded to laugh so hard he 
broke all the furniture on the bridge.
     Pederast, who was seriously thinking of changing his name, asked, puzzled,
"What's wrong with Inferior?  'FER' means fire, right?"
     Claymore was silent for a second, looked Pederast in the, well, instep, 
and resumed laughing his lungs out.
     Pederast got huffy.  "Well, what kind of name is 'Claymore', anyway?  You 
don't carry a longsword!"
     "Heeheheheeehheee... Er, sorry.  Well, I can't show you why that's my 
name, this is a family strip.  Ahem.  Heh.  Anyway, I have to wrap this up, I'm
due over in Electrocutioner's Song any time now.  What say you give yourself 
up, and you can use the time in jail to come up with a new name.  Oh, and make 
sure they know you didn't know the real meaning of your name, or ya might get a
longer sentence."
     "I don't think so.  Men, STOMP HIM!"
     "Er, boss?
     "WHAT!?!?!"
     "Well, we found this dictionary, and we looked up your name...and, well, 
we ain't working for no pederast.  That's sick!"
     "Gimme that dictionary!"  Pederast grabbed the book between his toes, and 
thumbed...er, whatever, looked though it.  Then he went pale.  "Oh dear.  Um, I
guess a name change is definitely in order.  Any suggestions?"
     While the fiendish foot took suggestions from his men and the bridge crew,
Claymore sneaked off and returned with a mop.
     "...so it's settled!  Okay, Mr. Smarty-pants superhero, prepare to be 
squished by THE STOMPER!  Hey, what's that mop for?  Bleeyargh!  Why'd ya have 
ta go and splash me with a wet mop?" whined Stomper.
     "That wasn't just *any* wet mop...I just used that mop in the LOCKER 
ROOMS!" exclaimed Claymore.
     "No...not..!"
     "YES!  Athlete's Foot fungus!  Surrender and we'll show you where they 
store the Micatin.  Resist, and we'll throw it all overboard!"
     "Never!  We'll fight!"
     "Feeling the scratchy tingling yet?  A little fire between the toes, 
hmmmmm?"
     "N-no....I don't feel a th-thing...."
     "Waiting for the cracks and pustles to start?  Tell me, have you ever had 
athlete's foot before?  If so, you know how it can be SHEER HELL for WEEKS and 
WEEKS...."
     "Stop it! STOP IT!  I surrender!  Now lemme step up to the Micatin!"
     At that moment, the Coast Guard had arrived (they had crossed into US 
waters during the conflict), and slapped Stomper into a huge Wingtip shoe.
     "That'll keep'im," said the Coast Guard Captain.  "We've been looking for 
this foot for weeks.  How'd you stop him?"
     "Oh, just a little psychological warfare," replied Claymore.
     "Please!  Give me the antidote!" cried Stomper.
     "What antidote?  Did you poison him?" asked the Captain.
     "Not really.  You see, I tricked him into thinking I'd given him Athlete's
Foot.  His mind did the rest."
     "TRICKED??????"  Stomper raged against his bounds, but to no avail.  "I'll
*GET* you, Claymore!  If it's the last thing I do!"
     The Captain turned to the podiatrical perp.  "I don't think so.  You and 
your foot soldiers are going to go to trial, and I bet you'll get the Box!"
     "No way, simp," snarled the shod sh*thead.  "I'll cop a plea and spend a 
year in some bunny slippers, then I'll get both of you!"
     "Take him away, and step on it."
     Claymore turned to the Captain.  "Well, I have to be going now, I'm due in
a crossover tomorrow, and I have to unmutate before then.  See ya."
     "Well, goodbye and good luck, mister.  Say, who are you normally?"
     Claymore cast a glance over his shoulder as he stood at the railing.  "You
can call me Sig.Lad," he said, then dove into the surf.
     "What a stupid name," mused the Captain....
               *              *              *              *
     A few hours later, Sig.Lad washed ashore.  He cursed the luck that had him
unmutate right after hitting the water.  His mutations had been stabilizing 
lately, which was good.  As long as no one did something heinous like infecting
him with a TransMode virus, he might actually soon be rid of his cursed 
instability.  Well, nothing he could do but hope.
     Catching a cab, Sig.Lad was soon on his way back to LNH HQ.  He wondered 
if there was any mail for him....

     Dave Van Domelen, "Y'cannae change the laws of physics!" - Scotty, 
tonight's STTNG.  "Sure ya can!" - Q


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Next Week:  Is Thanksgiving so I'll probably be off on Vacation -- but maybe
             two weeks from now there will be another LNH Classic!

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Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer