Sunday, January 27, 2013

Death of a Campaign


Redshirts died this week.

The Stars Without Numbers campaign had a pretty good run.  I had designed it as an FLGS episodic drop-in pick-up game with a cast of freeze dried, replaceable PCs scouting the unknown horrors of my mind.  It morphed into something quite different.

The first oddity was PEOPLE KEPT ON COMING.  I finally had to cap the game at nine players.  That's enough people in a room yelling at me.

Second, instead of a pick-up game, our schedule became very specifically timed, rotating around the players INSTEAD of me.

Third - we were kicked out of the FLGS by the Chess Club.

Instead, we played every week at Merwyn's house.  He has a large table.  That table wasn't quite big enough so another table had to be attached.  Something like a kiddie table at Thanksgiving.

So what the hell happened - you ask.

Well, I read Kevin Crawford's Stars Without Number supplement Scavenger Fleets.  It's a great, free supplement detailing the bands of nomadic star-farers who dig through the trash of the previous civilization.

I got to thinking - what if one of these Scavenger Fleets got too big for its britches?  What if they stopped just scavenging dead planets, and began to *harvest* living ones.

Thus, the RECTIFIERS were born.  The Rectifier Fleet was comprised of 70+ ships, their tech level passed any in the area, and their habit of implanting all of their 'recruits' with wi-fi brain pain technology made their sufficiently Borg like to scare anyone who met them.

I figured I had a pretty good bag of villains to harass the freeze-dried scouts.

The Redshirts were passing through a system they used 'space highway' when they stumbled on the fleet.  Sensors indicated that the sleepy little planet they knew as Tunguska was being invaded, and the gas giants in the area were under lock-down.

I figured . . . well - you know what happens.  A DM goes through every thing they could think that would happen and plans accordingly.  Players always figure a way around all of that, though.

I made it clear that these dudes were billy-bad-asses and not to be messed with.  The mission was clear - find a way to refuel, jump the hell away, and warn the boys back home.  Since the CO position was being filled by Crazy-Ass Tim who was playing Professor Ramaputi - a guy who dislikes violence and wants to SCIENCE everything - I figured we were in for some interesting stealth operations.

Yeah, right.

They see a Rectifier Frigate nearby, but are cloaking really well, so it doesn't see them.  Rather than GTFO, they teleport a mirror outside of the ship and start bouncing LIDAR communications off of it, taunting the Frigate.

It went downhill from there.

It their little stealth shuttle they . . . they attacked the frigate.  They had pulled off ship assaults before.  Two - if I remember correctly.  But those assaults had always been against ships with much crappier tech.

Most of the PCs got to the hull of the Rectifier Frigate, while Ramaputi and two psychics did a halfway planned, halfway accidental maneuver where they simultaneously rammed the shuttle into the Frigate at full speed and smashed the hull with Telekenetic Ram.  At the same time, Merwyn's character faked out the ship's AI and nabbed controlled of the jump drive and maneuvering systems.

They blew a hole into the Frigate.  Nice going, yes.  But the other ships in the area were closing fast.  The crew of the Frigate was still alive and not in a great mood, however.

Meryn decided that, since he was in control of the jump drives - that they should jump the Frigate to another star system and deal with the crew later.  However, after a few minutes of paper-shuffling - it became horrible apparent that not a single member of the party had the Navigation skill to jump the ship.

At that point, Merwyn decided to accelerate to ramming speed and slam the Frigate into the nearest Cruiser.

Yeah.

The party found life pods to evacuate.  However, they were easily picked up by the Rectifiers.

Hmm.

Rather than role-play their lives as mind-slaves of the Rectifier Fleet, we decided to leave it there and let the Redshirts campaign sail off into the horizon, smoke billowing from the water-borne funeral pyre.

I would guess that the following events would happen:

  1. Capture.
  2. Torture.
  3. Integration.
  4. And then the Rectifier Fleet - with full knowledge of the Aquila Union now, would commence an invasion and the player characters would be a party to the destruction of their own civilization.

Good times, good times.

The Boy, however, is currently writing a story in which the characters escape the Rectifiers and everybody wins.  I am eagerly waiting to read that story, since it sounds a heck of a lot more upbeat then what I charted out above.

So, I salute the nine players of the Redshirts campaign for valiantly putting up with all of the horrific things that I threw at their poor, ill-equipped characters - and for the most part surviving.    But the campaign was named Redshirts - so it was really just a matter of time. :)

- Ark

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

NSFW Hat Girl


Just a not safe for work cartoon girl in a hat.  Nothing game related.  Move along.

- Ark

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Pity's Long-Broken Urn



Pity's Long-Broken Urn is an Escritoire-class yacht registered out of the Bellange system in the Spindrift subsector. Originally commissioned by the Marquis Elais de Sainte-Marie, it was soon transferred to the Carpe Consortium, a limit liability corporation on which Elais was a board member. Marquis Elias' dream of making the Urn a for-profit party barge have thus far failed - the profit part. Not the party part. The owners of Pity's Long-Broken Urn are listed below:

Marquis Elais de Sainte-Marie - 6669BD
     Carouse-3, Deception-3, Persuade-3, Astrogation-1, Pilot(Spaceship)-1, etc.
Elias is a noble dilettante from Sainte-Marie.  He has spent his life acquiring money, land, and titles he didn't deserve - creating a long list of people who want him harmed or dead.  Recently, he decided to explore new worlds - worlds free of people trying to kill him, that is.

Legendary Idol Neva Bloomberg - 3B6E8D
     Singing-4, Carouse-3, Steward-2, Dance-1, Acting-1, Deception-1, Persuade-1, etc.
Hailing from the subsector capital of Champaigne, Neva became a pop idol at a young age, which was followed by a stellar career and sector-wide singing tour.  She crossed the wrong power-broker, however, and now is retired off-world, failing miserably at being low-key.

Lt. Max Guttman - 687A76 
     Shotgun-4, Slug Pistol-2, Blades-2, Medic-1, Pilot(spaceship)-1, etc.
Max was born on the desolate planet of Dustbowl, learning to survive by his wits and his shotgun at an early age.  To escape, he joined the Imperial marines, transferred into the navy, then settle down until retirement as a cop for Space Port Authority at Champaigne.

Lt. Matthew John Gattis - 4A4866
     Slug Pistol-4,  Engineer-1, Mechanic-1, Persuade-1, Investigate-1, Recon-1, etc.
Matthew's sad story starts with his failure to become a merchant and joining the Space Port Authority as a cop.  His carreer destroyed for digging too hard, he became a free trader, but was run out of business.  He then toyed with being a pirate, but his ship was destroyed.

Guenhwyvar - F6C766
     Medic-2, Slug Rifle-2, Dew Claw-2, Energy Rifle-1, Comms-1, Sensors-1, etc.
Guenhwyvar is an Aslan from a Hierate colony in the Trojan Reach.  He served a long, illustrious life in a mercenary company.  He now searches the Imperium looking for ways to bring his clan back to power.



So, that makes up the characters for the Traveller game we are playing right now.  I'll get into more detail about what has happened - and all of the bad smelling fall out - very soon. :)

- Ark

Friday, January 18, 2013

Player Portraits: Adelaide

Adelaide has been playing with the group for a while now - Labyrinth Lord, Stars Without Number, and now Traveller.  She's typically the most level headed of the group - not poking any great big red buttons that say "DON'T POKE ME" and ducking behind something large and heavy when the rest of the party does something stupid.  Her sanity seems to be wearing off, however.  In Traveller, she's playing an interstellar pop-star who has a habit of pissing off Planetary Contessas for fun.  Obviously, Adelaide has been hanging around the wrong people. :)

I've been working diligently to learn some new drawing techniques over the last few month.  I've been unhappy with my progress, but this one of Adelaide didn't come out too bad.


- Ark

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Campaign Fanfic

All Traveller nobles shop for clothes in Austria, circa 1854.
In the past, I've written a lot of what I call Interludes - short little fiction pieces that showed events between gaming sessions.  I like to get inside the PCs' imaginary little heads and have them talk and act exactly the way their players would have them act.  It takes time to understand the characters, and portray them properly.

The high body count style of play we've been going with over the past two years is rather counter-productive to writing in-depth, character-based fiction.  Characters tend to be archetypal, and even if they are interesting - it's hard to imagine they'll last for more than a few more game session.

However, we are about to embark on a Traveller campaign - and the life path character creation system spits out wonderfully developed character histories.  Add to it that over half the players involved would be just as happy to see no combat at all and, well, these guys are just screaming out for PROSE.

For instance, the character that Crazy-Ass Tim is playing - Marquis Elais de Sainte-Maire, is an upper class dilettante, spoiled and useless beyond all recognition.  But he's found himself in a state where he has lots of enemies and not enough cash to maintain his lifestyle.  The other players so far ended up as gritty policemen or ex-soldiers.  Scratching my head, I wondered how these guys would even meet, much less adventure together.  After some character motivation discussions with the players, a scene popped into my head between the black Sheep Elias and his uncle - who manages Elias' father's household.

* * *

Uncle Dietfried tossed the bag at Elias' feet.  The crimson stained canvas landed with a wet slap on the white carpet.  Something was in the bag - something about the size of a head.

"That's the third one this year," Dietfried, dressed in a crisp uniform with golden epaulets, motioned to the bag.  "She's not going to run out of money or people."

Marquis Elias wanted to back away from the bag, but simply stared wide-eyed at it as the the red stain in the white carpet seeped from where the bag had landed.  "Um . .  thanks."

Dietfried grunted.  "I won't have you embarrassing your father any more with this.  It's time you take that ill-gotten title and go find your fortune elsewhere."

Elias looked up from the bag.  "I'll need some seed money."

"You had seed money last year.  And the year before.  And the year before that," the uniformed man barked.  "Go to the space port.  You can get credit for a starcraft on your name alone.  Take it and leave.  Go to the capital and sponge off those friends of yours."

"A loan?" Elias looked as if a bad smell had entered the room.

"Yes.  A loan.  That you have to pay back.  Like in the real world."

Elias looked confused, then outstretched his hands with a boyish smile.  He was, however, far from a child.  The Marquis had seen at least four decades.

"Uncle . . uncle, there has been a misunderstanding.  I . . ."

"No.  You understand me perfectly clear.  Leave, or your father will learn certain little known things about you . . ."

Elias' face grew harsh and he tilted his head angrily, but Dietfried continued.

" . . . certain little things about you that he'll find out if I tell him, or if I should mysteriously die, will be told to him by a program that scans the newspapers for word of my demise."

Elias gasped and touched his chest.  "Uncle!  You wound me."

"I will if need be," Diefreid stared icily at his nephew, his hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. "Your father's position is too important to be compromised by your lack of judgment."

Elias looked down at the bag and sighed.  "It's not my fault."

"It never is," Dietfried grumbled, took a breath, then sighed.  His eyes softened.  "Don't forget, she's still a tad cranky and will remain so for a long, long time.  You are going to need some hired guns as bodyguards.  Ex-soldiers are good, but ex-law enforcement know better what they can get away with legally.  And when you've finished drowning your sorrows with those wastrels at the capital, you should probably go check into that fief the Emperor awarded you.  You've never paid any attention to it, and it's barely turning a profit.  I hear that Sainte-Marie is nice this time of year anyway."

"Very well, Uncle."  Elias said coldly, snapping to attention.  "I'll be off."  He turned to go, but stopped and glanced back.

"Christmas at Rouge Et Noir?"

"Of course," his uncle nodded curtly.  "Your aunt would lapse into hysterics if you missed Christmas dinner.  Idiot boy.  And come back with a good story - a story of entrepreneurship and profit to tell your father."

"Yes Uncle," Elias walked out, but didn't let the smirk show until he was long out of camera range.

* * *

It seems to fit the bill.  So, anyway, the players should be expecting a lot more fiction from me in the coming weeks. :)

- Ark

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Spindrift Subsector

Click to embiggen.
(These are places that the players in the upcoming Traveller game would have some knowledge about.  Hint hint. -Ark)

Systems of Interest
Bellange C764887-5
Bellange is an idyllic garden world brimming with life.  A quarter of a billion people are scattered over the planet, in a somewhat primitive state, relying on ethanol for power and transportation, with agricultural being the main industry.  A small, unobtrusive civil service manages the planet.  The lush, quiet lifestyle has attracted the wealthy, and many of the smaller noble fiefs are located here.  A gambling and pleasure town has built up around the fiefs, called Rouge Et Noir.

Champaigne A85A989-B
Champaigne is the Imperial capital of the Spindrift subsector.  A billion people live on the oceanic world, which is run by a ganglia of AI that automate the economy and assign human governors to manage daily affairs.  Champaigne is named after the glowing, spherical habitats that proliferate around Capital Dome, giving the appearance of bubbles.  The planet boasts both an extensive highport complex with shipbuilding facilities and an Imperial naval facility, as well as a lowport that dominates the largest collection of landmasses, approximately the size of New Zealand.

Dustbowl E360635-8
Dustbowl is a very small desert world.  The breathable atmosphere is generated by huge, pyramid shaped machines left by the Ancients and scattered all over the planet.  Originally settled by archaeologist, nothing more of interest was found on Dustbowl.  The three million inhabitants are spread out over the many oases near the equator, each ruled by a warlord or strongman who is a member of Dustbowl's Ruling Council.

Kilimanjaro C124101-A
Kilimanjaro is a tiny, thin-aired rock blessed with a large amount of water ice.  While the Imperium maintains a small starport and a scout base here, there are few, if any inhabitants on the rock.  Some trade goes though the system, but rumors abound of missing ships and cargoes.  The Traveller's Aid Society deems that the scout base here is enough deterrent to potential lawlessness, but others disagree.

Sainte-Marie E665241-6 
Sainte-Marie, while small, is still a garden planet with abundant native flora and fauna.  An old style representative democracy thrives here - its citizens seeing no need for a more stable, centrally managed system.  Sainte-Marie has been the home of more recently awarded fiefs in the Spindrift subsector, and many of the nouvelle aristocratie call it home.

Trade Routes
La Route Petite Ambre
A cluster of 23 systems with Jump-1 accessibility, stretching through three subsectors.  Low population, as well as a lack of systems that can manufacture starships, relegates the trade route to minor status. Where it passes through the Spindrift subsector, the Lesser Amber Road is economically dominated by trading houses out of the distant Honingraat system, who often wield power comparable to the Imperium in this backwater. In Spindrift, the Road is comprised of Byōdō-in, C-S875, Klimt, Kongens Have, Lucrezia, Marrakech, Medici, Tortuga, and Serengeti.
The Etruscan Way
This stretch of 27 Jump-1 accessible systems is the economic backbone of three subsectors.  Four major powers sit along the route - two of which lie in the Spindrift subsector.  Trade companies out of Champaigne clearly dominate the area, while traders from Honingraat are more apt to link the Etruscan Way with the Lesser Amber Road trading route.  most of the systems in the Spindrift Sector are within the Etruscan Way.

Areas
Etruscan Trailing
The trailing end of the Etruscan Way, located trailing and rimward from Champaigne, is a backwater region.  Trade exists, and a naval base keeps the peace, but low populations and lack of huge economies prevent the larger trading houses from doing much business here.  Etruscan Trailing is ripe for entrepreneurs and new trading ventures to make an easy credit.  Pirates do, however, ply the jump-ways, so honest businessmen need to be careful.

- Ark