Runequest solo - part 1: Out of Dunstop

Freezeday - Truth Week - Fire Season 1627

"Hey, Praxian girl!"

"Piss off, Iaros. I thought I told you to stop calling me that."

"I called your name three times, and you pretended not to hear."

"I'm exceedingly busy."

"Doing what?"

"I've got a full day planned."

"You're sat in the portico of the basilica watching people wander through the forum."

"It's too hot. It's only the marble and the shade that make it bearable."

"So, you planning to rob one of the stalls or something?"

"No."

"What then? Just sit there and eat that whole basket of sweeties by yourself?"

"We begin to understand one another."

"Well I hate to be the one to ruin your plans--"

"--you don't, really--"

"--but Big Boss sent me to fetch you. Well?"

"Now? It's still morning!"

"I'll just tell him you've better things to do, shall I?"

Hessa heaves a histrionic sigh and rises heavily to her feet, brushing crumbs from the skirt of her threadbare chiton. She stomps out of the cool shade without a word. Iaros scurries to catch up with her.

"Where are you going? The meeting's this way."

"I know where we're going. But I'm going to wash up in the fountain first. My fingers are sticky."

"Well you are a thief."

Hessa's attempt at suppressing her ridiculous giggle results in a most indelicate snort, but Iaros pays her no mind. She washes her hands in the fountain, then hazarding a suspicious glance at Yelm blazing high in the vault of heaven, sticks her head under the water spout and lets the cold water cascade through her hair and down her neck and shoulders. With her newly-clean fingers she shakes the excess water from her unruly (and most un-Praxian) black curls, forcing Iaros back a step or two.

"So, do I look presentable enough for a meeting with the man himself?"

"There's jam on your chest."

[It is not at all obvious from previous postings on this blog, but I dig out my old 2nd edition Runequest rulebook at least once a year. I've had a lot of PCs making forays into Snakepipe Hollow and Scorpion Hall, as well as a host of non-RQ solo adventures I converted on the fly, but none of this ever gets typed up. I have also started various free-form adventures with Mythic and other solo tools, but none of those have gotten typed up nicely either. Until now, I suppose. This adventure is the start of a campaign that I began in early 2023 and to which I have periodically come back in the intervening months/years.

I don't really remember what started it, but it came hard on the heels of a mercenary campaign based on a Lunar incursion to the foothills round mount Kero Fin. I probably just wanted something less martial. So I rolled up 4 new PCs (as that's what I can fit on a sheet of A4 lined paper) and picked the most interesting one to use as the main PC, with the idea that she'd encounter the others as things progressed.

Glorantha is a huge and very rich setting, which can be quite daunting and also lead down research rabbit-holes as the answer to a seemingly innocent question involves poring through decades worth of source material. I'm going to keep it very simple and invoke the very useful Your Glorantha Will Vary (YGWV) dictum, so expect deviations from canon. My aim is to primarily use the 2nd edition sourcebooks I have, but I do have all the very lovely RQ:AiG pdfs from a bundle and I am not above mining them for background and monster stats. I will do my best to explain aspects of the game world (and my interpretations thereof!) as I go, for the benefit of those who don't know the setting. A lot of the fun of RQ is being able to mix in all my favourite aspects of bronze (*cough*iron*cough*) age society without worrying overmuch about historicity.

I will do my best to introduce my main character through her actions rather than via a protracted look at character generation, but here follows her initial character sheet with the very broad strokes of her background to help set the scene.

I'd been looking for a chance to use this as a PC portrait ever since I came across it

Hessa originally hails from the city of Furthest, the capital of Lunar Tarsh. Tarsh is split in two: Lunar Tarsh is a province of the Lunar Empire, whilst Old Tarsh comprises the rebellious tribes of Tarshites living round mount Kero Fin. Hessa was born in one of the brothels in Furthest's poor quarter. Her mother was one of the working girls there. Her father was evidently a passing Praxian nomad employed as a mercenary by the Lunar army, but no more about him can be deduced, not even his clan (sable, bison, rhinoceros, impala, etc.). Her mother's profession isn't shameful per se, but Hessa grew up in the demi-monde and never left it, which is why her Previous Experience (Appendix H in the rulebook) was an "apprenticeship" with a gang of Thieves. She's currently living in Dunstop, working for an allied gang.

I've always thought of Lunar Tarsh as akin to romanised Gaul and/or Magna Graecia. Tarshites (and the neighbouring Sartarites) are depicted as Mediterranean types (and I will generally use Grecian/Roman pictures to illustrate them), whilst the Praxians look more like central asians. So Hessa has her mum's dark colouring and thick, curly hair, but a round face with high cheekbones and epicanthal folds; this has made it harder than usual to find good character portraits, so some imagination will need to be supplied to fill in where my picture stock and photoshop skills aren't up to the task! She's also a bit heavier (SIZ 2 higher than STR) than many old illustrators would render, especially in the pulps.

Hessa
-----
Background: Townsman, Lunar Tarsh
Prev. Exp.: thieves

STR 12 CON 15 SIZ 14 INT 17
POW 12 DEX 15 CHA 16 DB+1D4
HP 16 SR 4/2 Defence 15%

Skills: Move Quietly 50%, Hide 50%, Spot Hidden 50%, Trap Set/Disarm 45%, Listen 65%
Weapons: 1-H spear 40%/15%, med. shield 45%, dagger 40%/30%

All PCs/campaigns need some sort of goal to pursue; for a long-term goal I wanted Hessa to go adventuring in the city of Pavis and the Borderlands beyond, so I did my usual thing of starting on the other side of the map. I haven't figured out why she wants to go there yet, but it may just be a place that's far away from her current life. Her other, more immediate goals are: (1.) get clear of the thieves' ring, (2.) become an initiate in a cult (probably the Seven Mothers, as that's how she was raised), and (3.) find a weapon trainer (her underwhelming spear skill from mandatory militia training is not sufficient to survive a dangerous trek across Dragon Pass to reach Pavis). Come to think of it, she should probably (4.) learn to speak some Tradetalk as well; there are probably not that many Tarshite speakers where she's headed.

NB. Dates will be expressed according to the standard Gloranthan calendar. I may switch to the Lunar reckoning, which is the one Hessa actually knows and uses in daily life, when she spends more time in Lunar-controlled areas (her first adventure takes her outside it almost immediately). I have been keeping fastidious track of time on a copy of the calendar I printed out from Cults of Prax, mostly with the aim of figuring out weather and seeing when important religious festivals fall. It's not really necessary to understand the timekeeping to follow the adventure; just look as it as more background colour.]

The Big Boss holds court in a nearly-windowless attic above a seedy tavern in the poor quarter. It smells marginally less of stale sweat and spilt wine than the rest of the establishment. Some of his heavies are sat on the floor in the corner beneath a skylight, playing knucklebones for clacks [copper pieces]. The Big Boss himself is at a table with a burning candle, laboriously scratching a missive into a wax tablet. The Big Boss —for he answers to no other name— looks up at the sound of footsteps, and squints at the newcomers with his one good eye. "Take a seat, me dear. I'm almost ready."

Hessa does as she is bidden, opposite the Big Boss in the only other chair. She slouches more and more as he writes, twisting her curls absently round one finger. Iaros merely shifts his weight from side to side, trying not to look as bored as he must certainly be.

The Big Boss finishes writing, then reads over his letter with excruciating slowness, his stylus stopping on each word in turn, his free hand over his face so none can see the words as he mouths them, even though Hessa and Iaros are canny enough to look away. [Read/Write Native Language defaults to 10%.] Satisfied, he snaps the tablets closed and wraps a piece of cord round them thrice, then tips his reeking tallow candle over them to keep the cord in place and provide a field in which to roll the cylinder seal he had cut to counterfeit the mark of a local trader.

"Y'ever been to Wintertop?"

"Huh? Oh, er, no," stammers Hessa, roused abruptly from her daydreams. "Dunstop is the furthest I ever been from, you know, Furthest."

"I hear Wintertop is nice. So Baldakkal tells me. He runs things there. Out of a tavern called the Red Moon, if you can believe it. I need you to take this to him. Go see Sada about a horse. It'll be a gift to Baldakkal from me. And you work for him until he needs to send a message back."

"Sounds good, Big Boss."

Hessa runs off home at once to equip for the journey. She throws her extra tunics and her decent remaining underthings into a sack with her mirror and comb, deciding against the new pair of sandals which rub her feet all wrong. Her militia gear will most certainly be required: the heavy travelling cloak she's been using as a blanket, the round wooden shield that saw most of its action as a tabletop, and the spear she'd rammed into a chink in the wall to make a drying rack for her laundry. She lugs her gear to the stables, where the Big Boss' underlings give her a sleek riding horse with a saddlebags loaded with trail rations and camping gear. Hessa had hoped for a travelling stipend, but alas none was provided. There's a grand total of 15L in her purse; she'll have to forage or steal should she need any more food or equipment.

Hessa is soon out the city gates and underway.

[NB: 15L is 15 Lunars (silver pieces). A Lunar is worth 10 copper Clacks. A golden Wheel is worth 20L. All of these carry cultural connotations, and some places use different currencies.

The journey to Wintertop was largely played via the random encounter (Cultivated & Open terrain type) tables. I'll be omitting uneventful encounters to get to the good parts.

Her first 'quest' (take item X to place Y) was something I came up with just to get things moving, on the theory that something would eventually happen to spark an actual adventure. As it started with overland travel, I didn't use scenes and just set the Chaos Die (MCSV) to d10.]

It's a gentle ride through farmland to the river, which she reaches by evening. There are clusters of cottages near the banks with fisherfolk coming to-and-fro as they pull in the last catch of the day. Hessa is looking for somewhere to stable her horse for the night when she spots a familiar face.

[Encounter=NPC Friend, d6=m
Q: Who? Quaintly / Warm]

Bomoor is a spry old fisherman, garrulous and avuncular, and also a bit of a smuggler. He puts her up in his cottage for the night, and the next day helps her cross the river. She bids the smuggler farewell, then sets out towards Wintertop. She's little worry of getting lost in the open country; the 12km high spire of Mount Kero Fin points the way.

As she travels, she spots a magnificent sky bull winging overhead. Though a reminder of the Storm Bull cult, ever hostile to followers of the Lunar pantheon, she cannot help but stare in wonderment at the beast until it has flown out of sight.

That night she sleeps in the wilderness, concealing her tent beneath fallen boughs and leafy vines in a stand of trees.

[Night encounter= Dragonewt Party
Camouflage roll default 10+10=20%; 11, success; they don't spot her camp, and wouldn't care about the horse grazing nearby.]

next post: hazards of travel

A random start to get over a creative slump

It's been a while since I posted anything here. Life was alternately busy and full of studies, and failing that I've had a long spell of writer's block. I've also been bouncing from game to game without making much progress, and playing through lots of published solo adventures (DSA, T&T, and Dragon Warriors) which I never record. Lately I couldn't seem to stick with the same game for 4 days running, and felt creatively blocked on top of that.

Poking at an established but stalled campaign and getting nowhere is particularly dispiriting, so I decided it would be best to try something new. I thought that it might be a fun experiment to generate a character completely at random, start them off in a random situation, and see what came of it (minor spoiler: it worked; my notes file was at ~6100 words when I started writing this up).

But what game to choose? Throwing money at a new game that might fail to spark was off the table, so instead I turned to what I had on my shelves already. Any game without (mostly) random character generation was automatically out, which cut down my options considerably. I wanted something that had lifepath-type character generation, so, to make a long story short, I eventually went with classic Traveller.

(Almost) completely random character creation

To keep things simple (and get playing faster) I decided to stick to just the Traveller Book and the Third Imperium setting -- starting in the Regina subsector as detailed in the back of the book.

The first order of business was assigning a homeworld. I did my usual trick of rolling a d8 & d10 on the subsector map. If a blank hex or Red zone is indicated, the homeworld is the one with the highest population out of the nearest surrounding systems. The dice gave me hex 0409, a blank. Regina (pop8) is bigger than both Hefry (4) and Yori (7), so my new PC grew up on the subsector capital.

Regina A788899-A Ri

I usually make a bunch of characters at once and the most interesting one(s) tend to become the stars of the show. For the purposes of this experiment, though, I was going to roll up only one, so they needed to be cogent enough to carry the story. I rolled stats in order (B97789, off to a good start!), and swapped the highest into Intelligence, but after that I let all the dice fall as they may.

Initial UPP is thus: 797B89

For non-Traveller players: The Universal Personality Profile (UPP) is a 6-digit hexadecimal sequence (A=10, B=11, etc.) that gives the PC's attributes in the order below. Attributes are rolled on 2d6, 7 being human average. Humans can potentially have a max of 15 with increases through character creation (or later training). If you want to see the rules, the Facsimile Edition is free on Drivethru (at the time of writing); it's the same ruleset I'm using, minus the brief sketch of the setting & adventures.

My PC's beginning stats are--

Strength        7 (average)
Dexterity       9 (good)
Endurance       7 (average)
Intelligence   11 (exceptional)
Education       8 (can use all the skill tables)
Social Standing 9 (posh)

At this point, a fledgeling PC is 18 years old with a universe of possibilities before them. Or in this case, with a subsector's worth.

I made my character in the order I usually do (homeworld, stats, career, mustering out, life events, gender, ~ethnicity, name) and then analysed the results to put together a biography. I'll run through this term by term to illustrate how it all fit together. But here's a picture of the raw character generation steps, if you can read my handwriting:

To tell the story of my new PC's history, it makes sense to engage in some chargen hysteron proteron and give them an identity first. I rolled a d6 to determine their rough ethnic background: 1 solomani, 2-5 imperial human, 6 vilani. This far away from both Terra and Vland, the only real effect is of this roll is to give me a schema for naming them.

1d6=solomani. Another die roll decided my PC is female. Given those two data points, the first thing that popped into mind for a name was Hortense, after a random minor character in the French novel I was reading. I changed the spelling (though not the pronunciation) to account for 3 millennia of linguistic drift and/or spelling reform. The surname will be created by just stringing some syllables together that sound plausibly like a name that could have originated on Earth but which either doesn't mean anything in particular or is at least not absurd/obscene/embarrassing; I tend to Google these things to be safe!

So, what does young Ms. Ortance Staalazingen want to be when she grows up? A d6 tells me she wants to be a scout. I was hoping for something different, as I frequently play scouts, but then again, I don't usually have trouble finding stuff for them to do. And I committed to playing what I rolled, so off she goes to the IISS recruitment centre.

Enlistment

Ortance submits her application to the scout academy, brimming with hope. She has DM+1 for her high INT, but her STR of 7 affords no bonus. She'll be accepted on a total of 7+ : 2d6+1=4... failure! Her dreams of adventure are dashed against the rocks. She'd been sure she'd get in. She hasn't really known hardship up to this point, having been insulated from it her whole life. She's from a well-to-do family on a rather nice planet, after all. Whatever shall she do now?

The Draft

She's forced to submit to the draft. 1d6=6, Other. I take this to mean that there was no draft at the time (she turned 18 in 1089, so the 4th Frontier War ended 5 years prior). And none of the service recruiters really wanted her. At least, not the navy. She'd not apply to the army or marines, and the merchant service (probably a desk job at Tukera Lines) sounds a bit too much like being in trade.

Terms of Service

Cycling through the Other 'service' is a lot simpler than the others, as there is no Commission or Promotion, and only 1 skill per term after the first. Survival is easy (5+ with a +2 DM for INT 9 or better), and re-enlistment is similarly 5+ (no modifiers). I am using the optional rule where failed survival results in an injury instead of death. I will only be mentioning the survival & re-enlistment rolls that were interesting enough to tease bits of narrative out of. Ditto for the mustering out benefits.

I rolled 3 Life Events from the table in Zozer's Solo. Two of these made sense to put in her career path. The third one didn't go into her history; instead, it gave me the perfect idea for the first adventure!

Term 1

'Other' characters frequently end up looking like career criminals, but her two rolled skills were Jack of all Trades and Medical. I could have gone the mob doctor route, but the term 2 & 4 skills suggested a different path.

Ortance spends several weeks moping round the family home until her parents begin to fear she's not planning to leave. "You'd really ought to go to university, darling. We're certain it would be for the best. It's only, you're so awfully clever. 'Twould be a shame to let that go to waste." Mater and pater know someone on the admissions board, of course, so young Ortance is soon bundled off to the University of Regina. She casts about for direction a bit, taking whatever elective suits her fancy at a particular moment (JoT-1), but also finds a great interest in both sophontology, organic chemistry, and the biological sciences (Medical-1). She also gets up to the usual sorts of uni activities -- drinking, shagging, parties, zero-g lacrosse, and getting her heart broken at least once (Life Event: Fell in love, but your lover (d6=)turned against you).

Term 2

Poor spurned and humiliated Ortance wishes she could just fly off into the stars. And as fate would have it, an opportunity to do just that arises. Ortance secures a prestigious internship as a lab assistant with Luenvire BioMed LIC, a bio-technology corporation based out of Rhylanor. She doesn't look back as the Type-M subsidised liner (j-3) races out to Regina's 100d limit to begin the 3 week journey to Uakye (B439598–D Ni), one of the highest tech worlds in the Subsector.

[Uakye was of course also chosen at random: (d6) 1-3 Regina, 4 Research Station Beta (Yori), 5 random high-tech world (TL A+), 6 random Industrial world; d6=5]

Things went swimmingly at first. She soon learnt her way round the lab and got extensive training on the equipment: electron microscopes, cryo & radiation chambers, field emitters, filtration rigs, particle stasis regulators, and molecular disassemblers, just to name a few (Electronics-1). And when the internship ends, she finds that she has impressed her bosses so much that she is offered a permanent contract.

Everything goes well for the next 2.5 years, despite constant nagging project deadlines and excessive amounts of overtime, until a few weeks before her 25th birthday. Just what occurs she can't remember, nor has she much recollection about the days immediately preceding her waking up on a ventilator in hospital, covered in bruises and lacerations. Worse still, neither the police nor any of her colleagues at work (she'd hardly time for friends) are able to shed any light on the matter.

[Survival rolls are 5+, and she gets a +2DM for her INT, meaning she can only fail if the dice roll a natural 2. A roll of 3 this term barely scrapes by.

Life Event: Suffered amnesia, something bad happened to you but your memories are vague.]

She spends only a few days in hospital (of which one is spent unconscious under the influence of medical slow drug), but the constant panic attacks and night terrors keep her off work for about three months with a phased return thereafter. Luenvire take care of their valued employees, however, and a psychiatrist is appointed to treat her at no expense.

Term 3

Not even a string of hypno-therapy sessions (non-psionic, of course!) are able to reveal the events resulting in her hospitalisation. Her psychiatrist tells her to mind her stress levels and not to waste her entire youth slaving away in the lab, and Ortance takes the advice to heart. But she soon finds that the more interesting clubs on Uakye are in the seedier parts of the city (Streetwise-1), and she starts having to lie to her analyst about how she's spending her weekends. And evenings.

But she's still young and indestructible, so she can survive coming to work hungover. Or still drunk. Or with a makeup case full of powders and/or ampoules to help her through the day. Her performance at work noticeably suffers, and a disciplinary hearing or two convince her she needs to slow down (her re-enlistment roll was 5, the minimum needed for continuation).

She also begins to suspect her psychiatrist is spying on her for her bosses. And that it's somehow related to what happened, and they are purposefully keeping her ignorant. Paranoia gets the better of her, and she uses some of her less savoury new friends to acquire a pistol to keep in her flat for safety; she's not legally allowed to own a gun under Uakye's law level of 8 (rolled gun in mustering out benefits).

Term 4

The paranoia starts getting to her, so she decides to clean up her act, once again throwing herself into her work. She learns how to programme and run simulations (computer-1) and how to reset passcodes when her boss forgets his kid's birthdate. Again.

She's not going out dancing as often, and she'd stopped going to the company gym when the hot vilani from accounting got transferred back to Regina, so her physical fitness sees a slight decline (ageing: -1 STR). But not spending the bulk of her paycheck on booze is having a salubrious effect on both her liver and her bank account (mustering out benefit Cr10,000; made the ageing saving throw for Endurance).

She's beginning to feel like her life on Uakye is stagnating, though. Maybe it's time to move on (failed re-enlistment roll).

Mustering Out

The Other service has the worst benefits table of any of the standard careers (a roll of six nets you nothing!) and the most variable cash table. I almost never take more than one roll for cash except in very special circumstances (like when I rolled up a 5-term navy ensign with Social 12). Besides, if you roll multiple blade or gun benefits, you can convert some to skill levels. For this PC I went with 1 cash & 3 benefit rolls and got the following:

1. +1 INT
2. gun
3. -
4. cr10,000

As I mentioned earlier, the 3rd Life Event roll made for a better campaign start than part of her history, so I'll get to that in scene one of the adventure. This will be one of the few Traveller campaigns I haven't started off just using Travelling Alone!

Here is the final character sheet & character portrait I made with Heromachine:

Ortance Staalazingen
697C89   Age 34   Other  4 terms
JoT-1, Medical-1, Electronics-1, Streetwise-1, Computer-1
cr10,000
auto pistol


next post: space adventure!

ItO solo - Part I : The fate of three

"Fail me and your lives are forfeit," rasped the voice from out of the shadows. "Now, go."

The three companions do not dare hesitate, but file silently out of the dim and musty parlour, closing the door softly behind them. They descend the creaking stair to the first landing, and pause, looking at one another in consternation.

"All he wants us to do," begins Isabeau, "is to take this this tack and push it into the wall behind the sales counter of the hattery? Is that truly the task for which we've been summoned?"

"Who are we to question?" says Bassianus. "We are his creatures until our debts are paid."

"His goals are so inscrutable! Do you think the tack is an Arcanum?"

"Possibly. Or he may very well be mad."

"I've heard it said he may not be entirely human. Oh! I didn't mean..."

All eyes look down to Athalie's clawed, chitinous left hand, with its overlong fingers like the segmented legs of a crab.

"I know you didn't, my dear, " says Athalie. "Which of us will take charge of the tack?"

"I will," says Isabeau. "I've an old medicine tin in my purse. So, how are we to get across town?"

[I was in the mood for some Into the Odd, and also for some dungeon crawling. Since my other ItO campaign PCs were in the midst of the wilderness, and I didn't want to rush them out of it, I decided to just throw together a quick party for a one-shot. But the one-shot turned into two, and I'm currently in the midst of their third fourth adventure with ideas for a fourth fifth...

Rather than worrying about a plot, I used the d6+d6 mission generator from my other campaign.

Mission: take item X to place Y
Compensation: do it or else

The item was a random picture out of my ItO picture folder. The place was rolled on the Bastion's Greatest Businesses table in the Oddpendium at the back of the rulebook: d%=Hightower Hats & Canes.

The PCs' mysterious patron, to whom they are all in a good deal of debt (I decided arbitrarily), requires this service just to cover the recent interest. This is the same shadowy patron my other two parties serve(d), so there's a chance of crossover depending how the campaign develops.

My toolbox for the adventure is:
- Into the Odd 2nd edition
- Mythic with my MCSV & bibliomancy for the Oracle questions*
- the various Random Location Crafting articles in Mythic Magazine
- d30 Sandbox Companion
- UNE
- folders full of pictures for encounters, treasure, etc. -- usually photoshopped

* The first adventure is all dungeon & urban crawls, so there are no Scenes and a static 1d8 Chaos Die. In place of the action/subject meaning tables, I used bibliomancy, plucking a phrase at random from Hervey's Meditations (Rev. James Hervey, 1714–1758. His Meditations were considered the prose analogue to the poetry of the Graveyard School). My copy is in 2 disparate volumes, printed in 1796 (vol II) and 1778 (vol I), which are the oldest books I own, so at some point I switched to an electronic version and copied&pasted from there to give the spines a break.

The PCs were totally random. Athalie's portrait was something I made for my first ItO campaign when I was messing about with pictures to be used as random encounters/NPCs. When she got 'Ugly Mutation' as part of her starting package, I knew it had to be her. I gave the claw game stats as it seemed like it should do decent damage, but also get in the way.]

Athalie
STR 12, DEX 13, WIL 17, 5hp
sword (d6), steel wire
Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw (d6), no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)

Bassianus
STR 5, DEX 10, WIL 6, 1hp
musket (d8), hatchet (d6)
Hawk ("Geta", STR 5, d6 claws)
Pain Idol

Isabeau
STR 16, DEX 9, WIL 9, 5hp
pistol (d6), acid, animal repellant
Prosthetic Hand (fully-functional, clockwork mechanism, requires constant winding)


There is a taxi stand at the end of their Patron's street, but our intrepid heroes pretend not to see it, heads hanging low in shame, refusing to look one another in the eye, as all are empty of purse. [Oddpendium: The Quickest Route Across Town d%= horse carriage]

"It looks like we're walking," sighs Bassianus. He whistles sharply, summoning his pet hawk, Geta, down from his roof-top perch, and they set off on their way.

[What's this street like? d%= shopping arcade, dangerous]

To-day the omnipresent gloom comes with a mildly stinging drizzle. The companions decide to cut through an indoor shopping arcade, a dim and smoky maze of passages crowded with the shuffling masses, and lined with stalls where merchants of evil countenance sell frightening and exotic wares. Perhaps the out-of-doors were not so unpleasant after all! They spot an exit, and make for it in all haste, though the streets of the market outside are no less teeming. It is a struggle to make one's way through without being swept along by the unwashed tide.

[Each PC needs a Willpower save to get through unmolested--

Athalie (WIL 17), d20=8 success
Bassianus (WIL 6), d20=15 fail
Isabeau (WIL 9), d20=3, success

Q: What happens to Bassianus? (random pic from my Urban Encounter folder)]

Athalie and Isabeau wind their way carefully through the masses, timing their movements just so, and before long they've crossed the street. Isabeau stands on the end of a broken bench to scan the crown for Bassianus.

"There he is! Look! Oh, dear, a parade of soldiers is blocking his path. What's this? He's trying to slip through their ranks. The sergeant looks very cross with him. Oh, no! No, I can't watch!"

[I'd given him a DEX save (DEX 10) to avoid a mishap: d20=16, fail
Q: What happens? bodily Vigour

The peevish soldiers give Bassianus a good thrashing for d10=2 damage; this reduces him to 0hp, STR 4. He needs a STR save to avoid Critical Damage: d20=3, he remains conscious.]

"This is truly nonsensical," says Bassianus after having rejoined his companions, "We'd ought to find a way out of the crowds."

"Agreed," says Isabeau.

"Perhaps you'd ought to stanch the blood dripping from your nose first," observes Athalie.

[This was to be a dungeon crawl, but since I was enjoying the streets of Bastion, I decided to have a little urban crawl to get to the dungeon entrance (being the sewers they will use to cut across town). I used the Location Crafting Random Cities from Mythic Magazine #16 / Compilation 3, with the neighbourhood counting as a Small Location since they essentially know where they're going.]

T0 : expected - random (pic) - expected

The market stalls spill out into another street, and fill the next little square beyond as well. Isabeau leads the way through, manoevring round coagulations of the heaving populace, or using her surprising and superior brawn [STR 16] to shoulder her way through. Athalie follows close behind, and Bassianus does his best to keep up. He's released Geta to fly overhead, but the imbecile bird just turns lazy circles instead of finding them a path. Perhaps he'd out to invest in a good trainer for him -- should he ever possess sufficient finds. «Sigh»

As they advance, [d3=] Bassianus feels a tug at his sleeve. He looks down to find that he's been accosted by a petulant little waif. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whines.

[Q: What's she want? the Lustre of innumerable Stars]

Petulant Cult-Child
STR 9 DEX 13 WPR 17, 6hp
Driven to spread the influence of the star gods, but will go away if given sweeties
Infinite Glance: 1 damage to all attributes per round; WIL save or under control of the child

She tugs ever more insistently at his sleeve. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whimpers, as she stares into his eyes with her Infinite Glance. He cannot avert his gaze; he sees beyond and is consumed. [Wil save d20=12, fail... & all stats reduced by 1]

"Bloody hell," mutters Isabeau, and drags the half-paralytic Bassianus bodily away. [STR save d20=2, success]. The child does not give up her quarry easily. She runs in pursuit, grasping hands outstretched, ever whining her hideous refrain. "Sweeties, sweeties!"

Athalie stands aside, and slyly puts a foot out in the child's path [the child's DEX save d20=20, fail]. The whelp sprawls onto the dirty cobbles and begins to wail. Athalie melts back into the crowd.[DEX save succeeds]

Bastion's entire profanum vulgus seem to be doing their shopping this miserable afternoon, so the press of reeking bodies is too dense for our heroes to cross the rest of the square. But a side street beckons [connector: Same, with a side Area]; they head down it in hopes of getting out of the chaos.

T1 : expected - expected - random
object: ornamental fountain

There are more stalls in the side street, and punters besides, but where the crowd thins out, an ornamental fountain bubbles away. There is a suspiciously small number of people willing to get close to it, but Bassianus wants to get a drink from the waters. At first it tastes of lime scale and sulphur, but as it goes down there's an aftertaste of the purest ambrosia, and restores no small amount of clarity to Bassianus' punch-drunk brain.

[I eat the Stuff: d%=first taste is gross, the second delicious. I let it restore 1 random attribute point: d3=WIL; this also counts as a Short Rest, so he's back to full HP.]

Meanwhile, Isabeau has removed her right glove, revealing her clockwork artificial hand. "Damn thing's run down again. Be a dear, won't you...?"

"Of course, my treasure," says Athalie, winding the mechanism.

More shops are beginning to open, so Isabeau is still pulling on her glove as she and her companions begin hurrying down the street.

T2 : random - random - none
location: random picture
encounter: ibid.

(sometimes I don't have to edit the pictures at all)

[Oddpendium cult generator: Family of the Glorious Skull (outlawed cult)]

The street narrows. They pass a low wooden door with black iron fittings, above which hangs a weathered deer skull with silvered antlers. An old man of strange aspect stands before it, reading from a tattered old book. He grabs [d3=] Isabeau as they try to file past.

"Armed for war, are we?" [prejudiced - view - weapons]

"These streets aren't safe nowadays. I'd not leave my garret with fewer weapons."

"There is a better way, you know."

"The only better way I'm interested in is the one that leads out of this borough."

"If you'll but hear me out, there is a shortcut through my temple." [insane - façade - current scene]

[WIL saves: all succeed, not buying it]

"There's a taxi stand just two streets over," interjects Bassianus.

"We simply couldn't impose," says Isabeau.

"We're late for brunch with the Rabbi as it is," lies Athalie.

[Q: What does the old man do? Transporting Reflection]

The old man mutters something indistinct, calling on the Skull's powers of illusion. Suddenly the crowd in the street seemingly begins to surge, threatening to overwhelm the explorers and trample them underfoot. The old man opens the door and steps into the temple. The explorers dash in behind him.

Once inside...

[Q: Now what's his game? a commanding Call, to spurn the abject Earth, and pant after unseen Delights]

...the old man starts talking about the aims of his astral cult, the Family of the Glorious Skull. His promises of salvation, glory, monthly entertainment vouchers, and spiritual perfection ring ever more hollow as he drones on. Tedium gives way to nervousness as he leads them through a maze of cramped and twisting passageways. Mildew creeps up the badly-plastered walls, affronting eye and nose alike. The corroded pipes overhead leak brown droplets onto the damp, uneven floor. Unevenly spaced gaslights leave pools of darkness between.

At length the old man begins to cantillate from his psalter, and astral visions swim before the eyes of the listeners.

[WIL saves: A d20=9, ok; B 18, fail; I 2, ok]

Bassianus swoons, enraptured by vistas of swirling stars and billowing nebulae that fill his awareness. Athalie and Isabeau shake off the heady phantasy and fall on the man with their fists.

[Stats are 3d6 for all attributes, 2d6 HP, powers made up on the spot]

The Old Man of Strange Aspect
STR 13, DEX 13, WIL 13, 3hp
Driven to swell the ranks of his nefarious order
Shining Touch (d6), damage in excess of HP comes off target's WIL and may cause Critcal damage.
Rapturous Cantillation, WIL save to avoid catatonia filled with euphoric visions. 1 WIL damage per round, effect ends when a save succeeds or chanting ceases. At WIL 0, all free will dissipates and the character becomes a thrall of the astral cult

[Round 1]
Athalie hates using her hideous claw hand as a weapon, but as there's not enough room to swing a sword in this corridor, needs must. Isabeau squeezes in beside her to pummel the old cultist with her bare knuckles. [their attacks are Impaired (1d4). 1+3=4 damage total, reducing the old man to 0hp, STR 12. STR save to avoid Critical damage: d20=8, success]

The old man's fingertips begin to glow with a silver light. He reaches out to touch [d2=] Athalie's face. She backpedals, and his fingers fall short, though her skin is all pins and needles where the light fell upon it [d6=3 damage, reducing her 2 HP].

Despite being punched thrice in the face, his droning psalmody continues unabated.

[Round 2]
Athalie's awful claw rakes down the man's face and comes away spattered with blood and bits of skin, which will be revolting to have to pick off later [4 damage]. Isabeau delivers a solid hit to the sternum [2 damage]. The old man is staggered a moment, but undaunted. [6 total damage reduces his STR to 6. d20=4, avoids critical damage].

He reaches out for Athalie again, and this time his shining fingertips brush her cheek. She loses all sensation in her face, and feels a fire in her brain, but does not succumb. [3 damage, eliminates her 2hp, and the extra point comes off her Willpower, dropping it to 16. d20=9, no crit]

[Round 3]
'Why won't the fiend stop chanting? Perhaps he just hasn't been beaten enough,' thinks Isabeau. Then Athalie steps back away from the clutching silver fingers, and she finally has the space to deliver a punishing roundhouse. The old man is spun round by the force of the blow and flat up against the wall, dislodging some of the decaying plasterwork. He slides to the floor, defeated. [2+4=6 damage, leaving him with 2 STR; d20=10, crit.]

[Q: Does Bassianus snap out of it when he falls? unlikely (5+): O6 C8 - yes (noted in stat block above)
Q: Is he any worse for wear? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... (also noted above)
He's down to 3 Willpower]

With the cantillation finally put to an end, Bassianus' visions fade. He steadies himself against the wall and takes a swig of cheap gin from his hip flask to steady his nerves. He offers some to Athalie, who's looking a bit peaked, but she declines, saying she's more of a whisky kind of girl. Fortunately she's brough a flask of her own. Isabeau is unharmed, so is forced to clear her throat pointedly until they both offer her a sip as well.

Athalie stabs the motionless cultist through the chest with her sword to make sure he is no longer a threat. She then pockets his psalter in case it's an Arcanum (doubtful), or worth something (doubtful), and hopes it's not dangerous to read (unlikely)

[short rest (1-in-6 random encounter check): d6=6, nothing; everyone recovers their lost HP

The parenthetical notes about the psalter are, of course, the likeliehood I will use for the associated Oracle questions when she has time to peruse her dubious treasure.]

"Do you suppose there's really a shortcut through here?" asks Isabeau.

next post: in the dungeons of the skull cult 

Conversion notes : SWN to M-Space

Conversion from Stars Without Number to M-Space was relatively painless. Theophania's stats could transfer straight across; she already had INT 18, so no proportional conversion from 3d6 to 2d6+6 was needed, and Wisdom is important in SWN for Psychics so could trasnsfer straight into Power. All that was missing was size, for which I picked an appropriate score (doing no favours for her HP or damage bonus!).

As a former corporate spy, her new Profession was obviously Agent. I decided to use the random Lifepath character generation out of M-Space Companion. This gave her some past events, a contact, and an enemy, but as she is a woman of mystery, I will not reveal them yet. She only had 5 skills in SWN, so it was simple matter to make sure she had all the M-Space equivalents. The lifepath also provided her with a good amount of starting cash, but I ruled that was all spent getting to Inah to avoid ret-conning the adventure there.

Her psionics were easy to convert as well. Her telepathy powers were still at the empathic level, so Telepathy became Empathy from the M-Space core rules. Teleportation isn't in the book, so I am using the Teleport sorcery spell from Mythras/RQ6/Legend.

Theophania-Eloïse Ashgrove

STR 11  CON 10  SIZ 10  DEX 14

INT 18  POW 16  CHA 14

DB -    Ex +1  Init 16  Luck 3

Homeworld: 0106 Aethyll/Vigdis

Culture: Urban/Panopolis (megacity)

Career: Agent

Passions: Destroy Corporation 64% (Unity Multistellar),  Seek mysteries 74%,  Desire psi 52%

Standard Skills: dance 38%,  deceit 77%,  endurance 35%,  evade 48%,  influence 43%,  insight 64%,  locale 41%,  perception 64%, stealth 47%,  willpower 62%

Professional Skills: bureaucracy 46%,  computers 46%,  pilot 37%,  sleight 53%,  streetwise 70%

Combat Styles: blaster pistols 38% (any),  self-defence 45% (unarmed, may Evade mêlée attacks without falling)

Psionics: Teleport 42%,  Empathy 42%,  Meditation 32%

Interstellar travel was the only other thing that really needed attention. I didn't want to just use Traveller rules or the SWN ones, so I started with M-Space guidelines (they are  little vague) and went from there. So...

A ship's Hyperspace Rating (1-5) is both the maximum range of a jump and also its top speed, i.e. the number of hexes it can traverse in 5 days. 

One unit of fuel is required per hex; using less fuel reduces effective hyperspace rating. Hexes are about 10 light years across on the sector map. Initiating (and ending) hyperspace jumps takes an enormous amount of energy, so micro-jumps use 1/2 unit of fuel (this is included in the fuel consumption of standard jumps).

In-system "micro-jumps" are possible. The initial "acceleration" in hyperspace and the final "deceleration" each take about 10 hours, so an in-system jump of any distance takes 20 hours. 

A jump therefore takes (hexes*5)/hyperspace+1 days. A ship with hyperspace-1 jumping to the next hex requires 6 days.

Things like massive stars & black holes warp hyperspace enough that their hexes cannot be jumped over. Ships may jump to them, manoeuvre round in realspace, then jump away.

Ships need to be out of the gravity well of a planet to jump to hyperspace, but there are otherwise no restrictions. Ending a jump prematurely destroys the ship (probably... no one's ever seen a ship that ended a jump early).  

In-system normal space travel is conducted per the Traveller charts (M-Space ships have speed ratings of 1-5).

Hyperspace communication is possible, but not easy. In-system hyperspace communications are effectively real-time, but a Comms skill roll is required to contact another ship (as opposed to a planet or space station). Contacting a ship in hyperspace from a point in realspace is practically impossible, unless the ship has initiated the communication (at a base difficulty of Hard), and there will be a lag based on distance: about 1 second per light year (10 seconds/hex). 

next post: the adventure continues

Stars Without Number - Part I : No dream of the future

Not my usual prolegomena...

For some reason I just don't click with Stars Without Number. This post and the next represent my only successful SWN adventure -- I've had three false starts before this.

I had a vague idea for a campaign with a single PC travelling round the fringes of space. I didn't want to start yet another Traveller campaign (I've got five on the go!) and I thought a psionic PC would be a fun change, so SWN seemed like the best solution. It's got plenty of tools, and I had an old sector I made with Sectors Without Number all ready to use, so... attempt number 4 commenced.

And it even finished! It was fun, but I did feel myself running up against the constraints of the game system, and also felt a massive disconnect with a lot of the setting, planet tags in particular; about half of them really don't fit the kind of sci-fi I want, even though I'm going for something much less hard sci-fi than I usually do.

I liked my PC though, so after a wobbly start to the second adventure, I decided to look at new game systems, and eventually settled on M-Space. More on this when the time comes, but I will note departures from SWN setting concepts as I back-fill them in this adventure write-up.

My setting in broad strokes

The Thoea Upsilon sector is situated on the rim of the galaxy, where the stars start to thin out. The galaxy is ruled by an ancient and decadent empire which is in slow but inevitable decline. Most systems pay lip service to the idea of empire, but out on the fringes there is little practical interference and local politics hold sway. Imperial consulates do exist on some worlds (reskinned Mandate Base world tags), but can rarely extend their influence offworld -- often not even to other planets in the same system. Psionics are rare but not unheard of. Opinions about psychics vary from planet to planet, and often person to person. Most psis who do not go completely mad wind up working for governments or corporations -- and not always willingly.

Everything else can be explained as it comes up.

Toolbox
-SWN free revised
-Mythic GME with my MCSV for the oracle
-UNE for NPC conversations

Character generation & adventure setup

I remember making a lot of random rolls to make my PC (using both the main book and some of the Lifepath stuff from The Sandbox #2), but I didn't know if I'd be putting this on the blog or not, so I didn't take any notes. It's a good impetus to try the show-don't-tell method of introducing a character. I'll put her character sheet at the end of the introduction.

The adventure started with a random scene. I put one named NPC (rolled up with SWN's one-roll NPC tables) and two generic ones (to be rolled from the SWN world tags when they appear) on the Mythic NPC List. I then came up with a short term goal (visit alien ruins on a far-off world (0808 Prope/Eretus)) and a long term goal (free her homeworld from the shackles of the corporations controlling it) to have something on the Threads list. I also added a thread called 'cash flow problems', as my PC is starting away from home with only 200 credits to her name.

For the initial adventure locale, I chose the a planet (Inah) in the nearest system (0205 Loulikos) to the PC's homeworld (0106 Aethyll/Vigdis) and put her there -- there are reasons in her background to not start on her home planet. I also made a few rolls to figure out her starting circumstances, but again, better to show first and then report on die rolls.]

0205 Loulikos/Inah

Planet: Inah
Atmosphere: Inert gas
Temperature: Temperate
Biosphere: Biosphere remnants
Population: Hundreds of millions of inhabitants
Tech Level: TL4 (high tech; about 11-13 in Traveller terms)
Tags: Hatred, Megacorps

Prelude to adventure

Theophania lay in the darkness atop the tangle of sheets, listening to the water running in the shower. She forced her eyes open only reluctantly, and watched the clouds of steam billowing out of the bathroom with the harsh white light.

There was a delightful soreness in her muscles as she rolled over to fish something to wear off the floor, and a rather less delightful throbbing in her temples, momentarily forgotten but brought back into sudden clarity as her questing fingertips found an empty bottle under a crumpled shirt.

She pulled on a top and clambered out of bed as Serafina was emerging from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, water glistening against her deep brown skin. "You minx," she said beaming as Theophania stumbled past her towards the kitchen, "you made me late for work."

"You'd not be running late if you had a proper air-dryer in your fresher. I still can't believe people use towels on this planet."

"Yes, we use primitive bathing tech, turn the heat too high, and our tap water tastes too alkaline. Now, do you mind if I turn the light on to get dressed, or will that offend madame's nightworlder sensibilities?"

Theophania's yawn devolved into laughter. She blinked her eyes against the sudden glare as Serafina told the household computer "lights -- 65%", but in truth no more than did Serafina.

"I was going to make some tea," announced Theophania, "or maybe some gilso if there's any left. Wanna cup?"

"No time," replied Serafina, sitting at her vanity-unit. "Besides, we're running the end-of-quarter financials this week. I need something a bit stronger."

Theophania crossed the flat (all 4.75 metres of it) and put her ghostly white hand on Serafina's shoulder. She winced involuntarily at the quiet hiss of the spray-hypo as Serafina injected herself in the neck.

"You do too much of that shit."

"It keeps me focussed."

"Maybe a little less focus is good sometimes... And cheaper, besides. You've been spending way too much, especially on me. And I can't help us out without a work permit."

"I thought you liked being a kept woman."

"I'm being serious. Like, were you planning on paying rent this month?"

"Mmmmm... I may have found a way to help you earn."

"They advertising for industrial espionage positions in the all-staff bulletin?"

"No... but I got talking to one of the R&D project managers at Ahupathi's leaving do, and, let's just say he talks too much after a few shots of clennish. I'll arrange a meeting, if you're interested.... <<sigh>> stop kissing my shoulder or I'll miss the 8:16 maglev, too."

[I promise this is space adventure, not space romance. But I made a lot of random rolls for my PC, and also for her Contact on Inah (= the initial named NPC on the Mythic list). I rolled this person at random, name and all, and got the following profile:

Serafina Adeyeku
Background: Underclass
Role: Trader (=in accounting)
Problem: Drugs
Desire: They want an entirely different job
Trait: Curiosity

Then I asked an Oracle question--
Q: What is Theophania's relation to the NPC? Ambush / Home

...which seemed to indicate my new PC is the sort of girl who brings her furniture on the second date.

I decided a Mental Effect saving throw (at +4) was in order for her not to have divulged her psi powers in an unguarded moment: d20+4=18, ok. Serafina thinks she's just a normal (ex-)corporate spy, and good at reading people.]

Theophania-Eloïse Ashgrove

Class/Level: Psychic / 1
Background: Dilettante
Focus: Psychic Training

STR 11 DEX 14 CON 10
INT 18 WIS 16 CHA 14
HP   6  AC 14 Att +0
Effort 4

Skills: Connect-0, Talk-0, Sneak-0, Notice-0, Know-0

Psionics: Telepathy-1, Facile Mind (1); Teleport-0

Equipment: laser pistol (1d6), monoblade knife (1d6), armoured undersuit (AC13), 8 type-A cells, backpack, datapad, cr200


Scene 1

Chaos: Boring (d12)

Setup: (random) Introduce a new NPC - Inquire / Dispute

NPC List: {Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, patron

Threads: short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems

Against all better judgement, Theophania had agreed to an initial meeting at a swanky eatery in one of the city's more exclusive commercial domes -- at least her prospective employer would be picking up the tab. She's now been sat at the bar in the lounge for an hour, getting a new message on her datapad every 10 minutes apologising for running late. Serafina had said work was unusually busy.

They finally arrive, still wearing their work clothes and the weariness of unpaid overtime. Serafina perks up immediately as she sees Theophania, and practically runs across the lounge to greet her. Her associate, an athletic man in his mid-40s, waits a few polite moments before following, but when he sees Theophania face-on, his demeanour also abruptly brightens.

"Theophania, this is my friend from work, Basil. Basil Paredes."

"Hiya, Basil."

"Enchantée..." he murmurs, kissing her hand. "My word, Serafina, you hadn't mentioned what an exotic beauty your paramour is. Her skin.. such exquisite whiteness, almost translucent. Why, you can practically trace the delicate pattern of veins beneath..."

The maître d' shows them to their table before the silence grows too awkward.

Serafina buries her face in the wine list looking mortified until Theophania whispers in her ear not to worry. Basil continues on obliviously, intent on expounding his profound interest in -- that is, his deep respect for -- nightworlder women.

Once the wine has been served and orders placed, Theophania profits from the pause in Basil's monologue. "Serafina said you might know of a job going."

"Well, not an official one... you see, I've had an idea. Sometimes climbing the corporate ladder relies on outside initiative, as I'm sure you well know. I've gotten wind of a project at Outertech, Daybreak Combine's biggest rival, that's attracting all sorts of attention. I need to know exactly what they're doing, especially now that they headhunted Jumanah Argyros. I think the simplest way would be for you to steal his lab notes, and--"

"You're new at this aren't you?"

"I, um , er... yes..."

"You picked a good spot for a meeting -- it's so loud with all the conversations and the live chamber music that we can assume a reasonable amount of privacy, but a little subtlety still wouldn't go amiss."

"You are, of course, correct."

"Have you put together a dossier on this guy?"

"Yes, I have it right here on this datapad--"

"Please don't pass it over the table. I'll get it on the way out."

"I... yes, of course."

"Now we discuss my fee."

"I'm prepared to pay 2500 credits upon completion."

"I need 20% up front for expenses. Transfer it into Serafina's account tomorrow, in corporate scrip. It'd look suspicious to draw that much in hard currency."

The rest of the meal is over as quickly as possible.

They part with Basil at the entrance to the maglev terminal; fortunately he and Serafina live in different residential domes. She grabs Theophania's arm as they're descending to the platform.

"I am so sorry for that! I've never seen him that way with anyone before. I'd no idea!"

* * *

Theophania examines the "dossier" on the datapad as Serafina sleeps soundly beside her. Without another bump to keep her going -- Theophania frowned at her until she put the hypo away -- she'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

The dossier itself is exactly what Theophania feared (or possibly, expected). All the information has been put into a meeting presentation template. It's short on useful details, but has plenty of clever graphics and transitions.

It doesn't even have Argyros' home address, but at least it has the location of the lab where he works and a handful of photos (taken from his profile on the Outertech corporate website), but it's enough to give Theophania a start.

[A few more notes from the SWN Adventure Creation tables:

The Restraint: An outside power threatens both sides
The Twist: There s a profitable chance for PCs to turn traitor

-Certain parties in the Clytie system threaten both Daybeak and their biggest rival, Outertech Group
-The opportunity for betrayal could come from either Outertech or the foreign elements

Conflict Type: Power
Overall Situation: A star expert in a particular industry
Specific Focus: They've betrayed their own

-There may even be a 4th faction...

Patron's Initial Manner: Xenophilic interest in the novelty of the PCs

=Basil is a bit of a creeper where Nightworld women are concerned.

Default Deal Outcome: They ll keep the deal slowly and grudgingly

Basic Challenge: Steal a well-guarded object
Main Countervailing Force: The patron is badly wrong about a thing

The dossier--
Q: Is there information on where Argyros can be found? Likely (3+): O6 C7 - yes
Q: Where? At a mass-transit station (from One-roll Urban Encounters table)
Q: Does it say if Argyros has a family? 50/50 (4+): O3 C2 - no, and... no personal information]

Scene 2

Chaos: Boring (d12)

Setup: d12=Interrupt (was: looking for Argyros)
Interrupt: NPC negative - Argyros - Propose / Death

[Someone has taken out a contract on Argyros. Assassins added to NPC list.

Chaos increases to Average]


Scene 3

Chaos: Average (d10)

Setup: d10=Altered (was: looking for Argyros)
Alteration: Add A Character : Basil

NPC List: {Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), Argyros (target), assassins

Threads: short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, steal Argyros' research

Commerce Dome 34 is one of Inah's more dismal locales. No one visits who does not work here, so the office towers, reaching as high as and in may cases through the dome itself, are all of uniform blue-grey duralium. If it weren't for the "parks" and array of ground-floor shops and lunch-hour restaurants, it would look like a high-security prison.

Theophania has installed herself at an "outside" table of a gilso bar, which gives her a good view of the entrance to Kyrilov Plaza maglev station. She pretends to read a novel on her datapad and distractedly watch the steady parade of people descending to the station.

[Wis/Notice 8+ to see Argyros: 2d6+1=9, success
Int/Sneak 8+ to shadow him: 2d6+2=9, success]

At length she spots Argyros in the crowd, full of post-workday elation and stuffing some confection in his mouth as he walks, pausing only to brush crumbs off his collar. It's a simple matter to follow him at a reasonable distance.

The crowds in the station are clamorous and overbearing, but fortunately all move in the same direction at this hour. Theophania follows her mark down to the Areopagitica line platform...

[Wis/Notice 8+ to see Basil: 2d6+1=11, success]

...and realises she's being watched. She lets Argyros board the overfull maglev train, but doesn't push her own way onboard, merely noting the time of its departure. When the train speeds away, she goes to confront Basil, who's lurking further up the dingy platform.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I am sure he won't see me. I just wanted to see how it was going. To see you work." [insane - chaos - flaws]

"Are you trying to ruin everything? Do this again and I'll tell him what's up myself. Now get out of my face and wait to be contacted." [Cha/Talk 6+: 2d6+1=10]

Basil scurries off.


next post: space adventure! (mostly...)

Mörk Borg solo - Part 1: « Dans un Styx bourbeux et plombé / Où nul œil du Ciel ne pénètre »

Six figures trudge along a muddy track which cuts through the weed-choked Wästland plains. The air is damp and heavy, the sky the colour of the skin on the pale and bloated corpse the travellers passed one league back.

Yesterday they had been travelling with a caravan. But the caravan had vanished in the night, abandoning them in the wilderness. Now they slog onwards, bound together by necessity more than friendship, though not all are strangers.

[For my first foray into Mörk Borg, I decided to go totally random. The germ of the first adventure was rolled on the Even More Reasons to Risk One's Life tables at the back of the rulebook--

Where do you wander? In the poor Wästland countryside
Who (or what) contacts you? Monk who was bitten at night
Adventure spark: Movement in a black star’s crater

Other than their names, my six PCs were also completely random. They are by-the-book characters without classes, but with rolls on the optional Terrible Traits, Broken Bodies, Bad Habits, and Troubling Tales tables.

I also wanted to establish random character connections. Normally, I'd just use the tables in Zozer Games' Solo, but Mörk Borg's setting is so unremittingly grim that I felt I needed something stronger, so I made my own d66 table to use [[[edit: it's now a d68 table, and available as a PDF on my Downloads page]]].

My toolbox for the campaign is--

• Mörk Borg (and eventually Feretory for extra rules)
• Mythic GME with my MCSV for the oracle
• the Location Crafter
• UNE for NPC conversations
• d30 Sandbox Companion for all sorts

The character sheets below are somewhat truncated to omit (currently) extraneous information. Classless characters all get 1d2 Omens to spend on re-rolls, which replenish after 6 hours rest. None of them started with any scrolls, so the (1d4+Presence) uses per day of Powers are similarly omitted. I didn't list food or water in the equipment, though everyone has some to start. The attributes are STRength, AGiLity, PREsence, and TOUghness. Armour is only noted for those who wear any; it provides damage reduction, and may increase the Difficulty Rating of Agility and Defence tests. The rest should be obvious.

Right, let's get on with it.]

Leading the band (in marching order, not moral authority) is a nihilistic woman who calls herself Törzug. That isn't her actual name, but the name of the woman whose identity she'd stolen. And who would know the difference, these days? for beneath the gilded mask she wears half her face has rotted away. Glimpsing the decayed skin peeking out from beneath the mask, no one really wants to get any closer to her -- though her state of constant aggravation and penchant for laughing at her own jokes may also be to blame. She drags a mangy donkey behind her.

Törzug ♀
STR+1 AGL+0 PRE+1 TOU+3
Hit Points: 7
Weapons: crossbow +11 bolts (d8), crowbar (d4)
Backpack: metal file & lockpicks
Silver: 60

Behind her is Uth, whom she's only known a short while -- ever since that night in the in the cemetery outside Galgenbeck when they coincidentally tried to rob the same grave.

Uth is a lanky, frail-seeming lass [1 hp!] with wild hair. The ill-repaired scale byrnie she wears was certainly made for someone of greater stature. She has a tendency to lose items and forget facts, but can be quite shrewd when she isn't feeling too lazy to bother. Despite her frailty, there's a healthy pink glow to her cheeks -- matched by the less healthy red glow of her nose, which bespeaks her love of tipple. She's fun though.

Uth ♀
STR+0 AGL+0 PRE+2 TOU-1
Hit Points: 1
Weapons: warhammer (d6)
Armour: Scale (med. -d4, +2DR AGL)
Backpack: lantern + oil for 8 hours, toolbox
Silver: 100

Today, however, she often glances behind herself, partly fearful that the golem tracking her will appear, and partly fearful of the next woman in the rank, Mivls, to whom she'd sold a lame mule.

Mivls is a shrivelled crone, wrapped head-to-to in a greying habit. Her sore-caked hands grip her bow and arrow; she worries too much to ever put them aside, for the golem seeks her as well. Mivls is deceitful, and an insecure shit-stirrer.

Mivls ♀
STR+0 AGL+1 PRE+1 TOU-3
Hit Points: 5
Weapons: bow + 11 arrows (d6), crowbar (d4)
Sack: medicine chest (5 uses)
Silver: 90

So she looks behind herself too, both for signs of trouble, and to study the woman behind her, Vesania, whom the severed head of a poet once told her she was fated to meet from birth.

Vesania limps along, having lost three toes on her right foot. Her forearms are latticed with scars, as she never uses a blade without first testing it upon herself. None of the wounds are fresh, for the last knife she'd owned was left between the ribs of one who'd incurred her wroth. She now fights with a femur plucked from the inmate of a gibbet. She is nihilistic, vindictive, and given to strange dreams. Once she dreamt of a  temple in the bowels of the earth, and ever since has understood the songs of worms and insects.

Vesania ♀
STR+0 AGL+1 PRE+2 TOU+2
Hit Points: 8
Weapons: femur (d4)
Backpack: grappling hook, bomb (d10)
Silver: 40

Behind her comes Dr. Sêps -- but how? She is certain she'd murdered him that night in Galgenbeck.

The suspicious-seeming man in the scholar's cap is Doctor Sêps, a chirurgeon late of Galgenbeck. His sleep is plagued by the nightmares of others, so he must always keep himself at a remove from the rest a-nights. He did try to tell them why he must sleep so far from the fire, but he never can get to the point. His bags are fully stocked with medicine, despite his wastefulness. If only he could find a remedy for the cataract spreading in eyes.

Doctor Sêps ♂
STR+1 AGL+1 PRE+0 TOU+0
Hit Points: 8
Weapons: staff (d4)
Armour: Mail (med. -d4, +2DR AGL)
Sack: life elixir (d6+cure infection), medicine chest (4 uses)
Silver: 90

He has been very solicitous about the health of the young man behind him, Irtinj. Such finery he wears, and the good doctor covets it for himself.

Irtinj can never return to his family estate in Alliáns, having been banished and disowned for unspecified deeds. He's been wandering for months, falling in with one bad lot after the next. He once blacked out in a lotus den in Galgenbeck and came to three days later, covered in blasphemous tattoos. He is shrewd and egocentric, but sometimes whistles when trying to hide [when the d20 comes up 5,7,9,11,13].

Irtinj ♂
STR+0 AGL+0 PRE-1 TOU+0
Hit Points: 4
Weapons: Zweihänder (d10)
Carried: magnesium strip, 15' heavy chain  
Silver: 50

He was once conscripted into the Shadow King's army with Törzug. At least, he thinks it was her...







Scene 1

Chaos: Average (d10)

Setup: random -  Ambiguous event - persuade / means

NPC List: -

Threads: -

[To start the adventure proper, I rolled a random scene, which indicated a jump directly to the Who (or what) contacts you? result I'd rolled above.

Mörk Borg has a nice d12 weather table, which I roll on for each day (Day 1: Lifeless grey), and every morning I need to check to see if a Misery befalls the world. Miseries are the calamitous events which portend the destruction of the world; the seventh ends the campaign. I chose to use a d20 for the checks, so there is a 1-in-20 chance per day of a Misery occurring. This makes the end of the world about 6 game-months off.

But for today, d20=7, no Misery.]

As the travellers pause at a crossroads to argue over which route leads to Schleswig, they spot a figure in the distance. Weapons at the ready, they watch the figure approach. It soon resolves into the shape of a ragged monk, hand outstretched in what must be a sign of benediction or greeting.

"Left you out here to die, has [d6=]he?" says the monk. "That caravan is always a few travellers lighter when the food starts to run out. [UNE:knowing - report - last scene] But maybe we can help one another. My name is Frater Wemut, and my order can give you food and point the way to Schleswig. If you could look into a small matter for us, that is..."

The travellers cannot but agree.

[d30 Sandbox companion cult tables--
name: Fraternity of the Sun
immediate goal: conversion, everyone
strange cult practices: sleep on bed of rocks

Their temple is (d30) a henge earth bank w/ inner ditch + stones

Q: Do they get to the henge without incident? 50/50 (4+): O1 C9 - no.
Q: Why not? Attach / Dispute

d6=5 peasants accost (1-3 monk, 4 party 5 single PC, 6 everyone) the PCs. Reaction roll is 2d6=11 (helpful) so the encounter shouldn't turn violent.]

As they follow Frater Wemut down the muddy road, they come upon a filth-caked band of peasants vainly tilling the blighted soil. They look up dully from their labours, but upon seeing the monk they become agitated. The leader of the band, a dried-up crone of but 29 winters, addresses the travellers.

"What are you doing with him? There's summat not right about them monks. Get you away form him, it'll be your death else." [UNE: prejudiced - dislike - friends]

Uth steps forward and tries to reason with her. "We are but weary travellers making our way to Schleswig. This kind soul has offered us succour on our journey."

"You're the suckers, if you believe anything what he says," says the peasant.

[Time to let the dice decide how this turns out.

Tests are at the heart of the Mörk Borg rules. A Test is made by rolling 1d20+the relevant Attribute against a Difficulty Rating (DR) of 6-18, with 12 being average.

To talk down the peasants, Uth must test her Presence (of +2) vs. DR14 (difficult): d20+2=12, failure.]

Uth tries to reason with the woman, but is cut off every time she opens her mouth. The peasant implores her at every to have nothing to do with the monk, and Uth soon loses interest in the conversation refusing to hear another word. The peasant stands aside to let them pass; only the farmers' laughter follows them down the road.

The temple, when they reach it, is a disappointment. No warm hearth, no wine cellar, not even a roof -- just stone circles in concentric rings and a ditch round them all. And the whole order comprises but [d20=3] three monastics.

The travellers are treated to a meagre peat fire, sour beer, and some sort of whitish paste that claims to be stew and/or porridge; the cook has conveniently taken a vow of silence when asked about ingredients.

As they choke down the splendid repast, Frater Wemut makes his case.

"A star fell from the heavens, and spat fire over the land. When the fire died down, a smoking crater was left. In its midst sits a cathedral of no known religion. Ten good monks of our order went forth to investigate -- none returned. We hired some mercenaries to go after them. Only one came back, and [d6=] she was mortally wounded. She told a disjointed tale of great riches and terrible horrors. Will you investigate and put an end to this evil?"

"what sort of riches...?" asks Mivls.


Scene 2

Chaos: Average (d10)

Setup: travel to the crater

NPC List: Frater Wemut, dirt farmers

Threads: investigate the cathedral, find the way to Schleswig

[Day 2
weather: d12=Cloudburst
Misery: d20=5, none

The crater is 1d4-1=1 day's travel away.

Q: Do the monks provide food for trip? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and...]

The next morning, the travellers are awakened by a peal of thunder and a sudden driving rain. Father Wemut explains the crater is a day's march distant, and provides them with enough food to get there and back plus an extra day for exploration. They give him their thanks for the food, groaning (mostly) inwardly when it turns out to be dried cakes of the whitish stew-matter.

[Encounter checks (1-in-6, morning, afternoon, & night): 4,2,1]

The travellers plod off in the direction indicate. They see no one all day, not even wildlife, as they slog through the dreary plains. Somehow they find a sufficient quantity of dry-enough wood to get a smoky campfire going [best Presence (+2) vs. DR16, d20+2=18, success] before they make camp for the night.

But something stirs in the darkness outside the weak circle of firelight. Hungry eyes glitter needfully in the black night, and form a twisted plan in their black hearts.

[Q: What is the encounter? (Location Crafter): Aggressively / Lean =subsistence cannibals

# encountered: d6+1=2. Stats are as Bent (MB p.59)

Q: Who is on watch? d6=Mivls & Doctor Sêps (lucky for him, since he usually sleeps at a distance from the rest!)

Testing the best Presence of the two to notice the ambush (DR12): Mivls d20+1=20, success]

Mivls and Doctor Sêps are sitting with their backs to the fire, making occasional strained attempts at conversation ("Shit weather we're having." "Can't believe what King Fathmu gets up to." "Ever kill a guy from Alliáns?" vel sim.)" when Mivls abruptly shushes him. He strains to see and to hear, and detects footsteps squelching closer though the mud.

"Hey," he calls out. "Who are you?"

[This is the first combat, so as usual I'll explain the mechanics in more detail than normal.

Initiative is handled by a single roll. d6=4, the party goes first]

Two feral looking youths come into the flickering light, clad in gore-stained tatters and wielding equally gore-stained knives... and forks. They drool in anticipation and make to pounce as Mivls nocks an arrow and looses it.

[Hitting with a missile weapon requires a DR12 test of Presence. Mivls rolls d20+1=12, hitting for d6=5damage. The cannibal has no armour, so damage isn't reduced. The cannibal now has 2hp remaining.]

The arrow sticks in her opponent's chest, but he seems not to mind.

Doctor Sêps raises the alarm, trying to rouse his sleeping companions by running round the fire and shouting [forfeiting his attack]. He raises his quarterstaff defensively as the second cannibal lunges at him.

[Monsters don't get attack rolls. Instead, the PC defends against each attack with a DR12 Agility test. The doctor rolls d20+1=15, so the attack misses]

The cannibal cannot get close enough to sink his blade in to the good doctor's succulent flesh.

Mivls does not fare as well [rolling d20+1=9], and she finds the first cannibal's fork protruding from her thigh [d4=3 damage, leaving her with 2hp].

[The Bent have a special ability; the PC with the highest Presence (M, +1) must make a DR14 test at the start of the fight or random PC gets backstabbed: d20+1=17, avoided. (this is here, out of sequence, because I almost forgot it!)]

The cannibal tries to sidle behind Doctor Sêps whilst Mivls is cursing with pain, but she doesn't give him room to safely manoeuvre.

[Round 2]
Mivls drops her bow and snatches her crowbar up from the ground.

[sleeping PCs need a DR12 Presence test to awaken and join the fight: only Törzug and Uth succeed.]

Törzug rolls over and takes up her crossbow. Her eyes are too bleary to aim properly and the bolt whizzes off into the night [miss]. Uth struggles out of her bedroll, warhammer at the ready, but her lurching swing goes rather wide of the mark [melee attacks are DR12 Strength tests; d20+0=9, miss].

Doctor Sêps smashes the iron-tipped butt of his staff into the forehead of his foe with a satisfying crack; the youth collapses in a heap.

[The doctor rolled a natural 20, a critical hit (double damage). d4x2=8, killed.

As half the enemy force is now hors de combat, the remaining cannibal needs to make a morale check (the usual 2d6 roll-under ML). Bent have ML8: 2d6=7, he keeps fighting.]

The wounded youth slashes furiously at Mivls, but she wards off his gruesome knife with her crowbar [DR12 Agility: d20+1=18, defended].

[Round 3]
Törzug is looking for her own crowbar as her three companions advance on the cannibal, but the surprisingly nimble youth evade their weapons [miss, miss, miss]. But at least his knife comes no closer to any of them [Mivls roll d20+1=14, defended].

[Round 4]
The cannibal presses his luck, and feints a Uth. She's not buying it, and swings hard with her warhammer, burying the point in the cannibal's neck. His blood sprays over her as he falls [DR12 STR: d20+0=14, hit. d6=3 damage, putting him at -1hp, dead].

The youths' only treasure is their cutlery. Mivls and Uth each take a knife, which, once disinfected in the fire and whetted clean, should make serviceable fighting daggers.

[For catching her breath and having a little water after the fight, Mivls can recovers  d4 hp. d3=4, all 3 lost are recovered.

For being stabbed by the filthy fork, she needs to test Toughness at DR10 to avoid becoming Infected. d20-3=14, success.]

As Mivls pulls the fork from her thigh and tosses it angrily away, Doctor Sêps shakes Irtinj and Vesania awake and begins berating them for sleeping through the ambush. For their penance, they must take watch the rest of the night.

The others lie down in their bedrolls to sleep. Mivls has a terrific nightmare, dreaming of being caught by the cannibals, flayed alive, and stewed in their pot. Poor Doctor Sêps, who'd grudgingly moved his bedroll closer to the others for safety, shares her nightmare and wakes up screaming.

next post: the crater