Solo Gaming Appreciation Month #6

The Tower: Destruction but not quite as expected.

In addition to The Nightmares Underneath, which has a really nice mechanic for making a dungeon’s theme, I was reminded of another free role playing game, World of Dungeons: Turbo. Putting both together keeps the dungeon just separate enough from the real world but still offer some overarching theme that I can use next.

The tunnels lead deeper into The City center, turning and twisting back on itself in a squared spiral. With each revolution, the ceiling recedes and the floor sinks further away. When Wendy reaches five street levels below, an immense pit has revealed itself, leaving just a thin strip of walkway to follow.

A couple of levels lower, Wendy sees the collected water form a pool within a square concrete basin. A small girl plods through the water in a slow circle, singing wordlessly, swinging a stuffed animal.

Wendy taps her wrist comm and tries to contact Whiskey.

The response is immediate, “Go ahead, Fox Three.”

“You didn’t tell me it was a kid,” Wendy hisses. “I don’t kill kids. No problem shooting the fucking monkey, though.”

“Ghost, I think she’s ready.”

Whiskey’s voice is distant, not addressing Wendy but some other unseen presence. A familiar voice comes over comms.

“Ay, Foxy,” says Fetu.

The girl below flashes with static, a thin scan line slowly refreshes her image. The singing stops. The world goes mute.

“I bought us a couple cycles, ‘k? You gotta listen good, yeah?”

“Got it.”

“You’re in a loop. We were cracking a door, and I musta triggered it. Been injecting code to keep you awake. I think I can get you out.”

“How?” Wendy asks.

“You already knew something was wrong, yeah? Playin’ the games to figure out how they work? What was the theme behind Kyriel, Visemar and Raven?”

Wendy blinks. “Cycles. Loops.”

“You got it. You just needed some pushing. I told you I was making you a module, yeah? That’s how we gonna get you out.”

“Ok. Where am I? Really?”

“You been stuck for a couple minutes-”

“Minutes?!” Wendy interjects. “I’ve been here-”

“CPU cycles are way faster than real life. Believe me, it’s only been two, maybe three minutes. Anyways, you’re outside the target area, ‘k? The door is gonna open. You gotta be ready in case trouble comes, ‘k?”

This makes very little sense to Wendy right now. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Why not? This world resets itself every 24 hours. How much stranger could this get?

“Alright, Ghost. Let’s do it.”

A mirror image of Wendy splits away and walks down to the next corner of the square spiral, watching the child.

Ghost explains, “The module should duplicate you fo’ a couple cycles. Enough that the AI won’t notice you’re gone ‘til it’s too late. Sorry, Fox, but this is gonna burn.”

Behind Wendy’s ear, the neural jack burns as if it’s overheating. The heat sears beneath her scalp and the world turns white. Her vision clears, and she’s crouched against a wall, a cable connecting her neural implant to the keypad on the door.

She’s outside an office building. An elaborate downtown business area where holographic signs brightly light the streets beneath in orange, blue and red. The streets are wet from rain just recently stopped. At this early morning hour, there’s little traffic in the area.

The solid metal door slides open, and her sharp ears are assaulted with the sound of a rolling rumble. Thunder moving too slow. Orange light spills out through the doorway, and Wendy sees an orange angular fissure stabbing upward from the floor.

Three men robed in red turn, the dim light and deep cowls making their expressions unreadable. Three arms lifted and pointed at Wendy in unison with metal gleaming dull under the orange lightning.

“I don’t like the look o’ this, D,” Fetu whispered inside her skull.

“X is not One,” three voices chant tonelessly.

For the Cogitators, I build them as a Mob but use two of the free Boosts to give them a ranged weapon as well. The +1 Skill refers to their cult training.

Mob of 3 Cogitators: +2 Combat, +0 Talk, +1 Skill, talon implant (1d6 harm, close), pistol implant (1d6 harm, long), 30 Luck

Player rolls for combat: 13, Exchange. 2 Harm (28 remaining). Cogitators choose Expose.

Cogitators roll for combat: 7, Setback Raised to Exchange. 3 Harm (27 remaining). Player chooses Unhinder.

Wendy rushes forward, her Thunderbird leaps into her hand. A pair of .50 caliber bullets erupt from the pistol and tears into their robes.

The cultists respond, and the trio move to catch her in a triangle of pistol fire. One steps in with a cut to her neck, but Wendy ducks under the attack and emerges from the other side.

Player rolls for combat: 7, Setback. Uses Team Boon to Raise to Exchange. 6 Harm (22 remaining). Cogitators Counterattack for 3 Harm (24 remaining).

Cogitators roll for combat: 20, Win. 3 Harm (21 remaining).

Wendy presses the attack on the one in front of her, pistol firing twice more.

The Cogitator sidesteps, bullets flying past his head. He steps in and slashes with a metallic spike attached to his right hand, stopped by the ballistic plating in her jacket.

Player rolls for combat: 10, Exchange. 8 Harm (14 remaining). Cogitators choose Expose.

Cogitators roll for combat: 16, Win Raised to Boon. 3 Harm, expend Boon to increase harm to 8 (13 remaining).

It’s a close fight. Her Thunderbird echoes loudly in the empty lobby, another pair of bullets pierce the robed man in front of her.

The man jerks upright as one bullet enters his chest, “System shutting do-,” but is cut short as the muzzle of the pistol levels with his forehead. The second bullet rips a hole through the man’s skull. The remaining Cogitators take advantage of the situation and flank Wendy; a talon reaches forward and strikes heavily into her back, knocking her forward.

Player rolls for combat: 18, Win. 9 Harm (5 remaining).

Cogitator rolls for combat: 18, Win. 1 Harm (12 remaining).

Wendy flows with the momentum and comes up against the cultist in front of her. Her left hand presses against the body to steady herself. Energy courses down her cybernetic arm as lightning strikes from her palm.

The second cultist glances down at her palm just as the lightning emerges. His body flies back against a shatter proof window; the cultist’s heart stops from the surge of electricity, and he slumps to the floor. The remaining cultist’s bullets knock Wendy to a crouch from the impact against her back.

Player rolls for combat: 21, Boon. 11 Harm and Team Boon increases by 1.

Wendy grunts and looks up from her position. She kicks out with her foot and brings him down to join her on the floor. The muzzle catches his fall under his chin as she pulls the trigger; the top of his head erupts.

“An’ this is why you do the wet works, and I stay home,” Fetu comments.

Wendy remains on the floor, slowing her breathing. The air still roars with the slow motion thunder.

The lobby is deserted save for three moderately human corpses on the floor. Just Wendy, her Ghost and a yawning portal to another world. Some called it an Incursion, her mentor referred to it as The Shadowlands. She was going to have to shut this down...

Review: Forthright Open Roleplay

Forthright Open Roleplay is a true evolution of role playing games. It is, both, universal and guided. Forthright has blended resolution mechanics into something graceful and intuitive. And, most important to me, it has defied my attempts at tinkering with the core system.

Forthright Open Roleplay is interesting in that it is an open role playing system. It is universal (I wouldn’t call it generic), and has enough constraint to build a framework on. In a matter of minutes, a player can generate a character for any conceivable genre, and a GM can stat opposition in seconds. Adding a Wealth tier related to the experience system makes measuring two sides in conflict easy to measure. Is the character less experienced but loaded with gear? The players can measure how that compares to some other character. That’s what I mean by universal and guided: unlike some generic systems, there’s a value assigned to abilities and gear that makes comparison easy without having to tally points and advantages or merits. It’s fairly elegant.

Forthright Open Roleplay brings a resolution mechanic that I’ve been looking for: a d20 based roll with tiered levels of success. Anyone familiar with games Powered by the Apocalypse can see where the resolution table stems from. However, how it’s implemented in the system is what sets it apart. Sure, there’s what you would expect from a low roll in the form of the action fails and things might get worse.  There’s what you would expect for a high roll and succeeding. The mid range rolls and criticals is where the game shines, bringing, as above, a guided method of using Boons (the result of critical rolls) and how, in some cases, Exchanges (the result of mid range rolls) work without resorting to Hold or, necessarily, soft moves.

This is where I came across my stumbling blocks. I tinker with systems and settings to make them better for my play style or have the setting flow more naturally. Forthright Open Roleplay has defied my tinkering. You see, my first impulse was to turn the three abilities scores into the familiar six. Then I recalled the Cosmetic Rule. Combat in Forthright, is an ability score. Did I really need Strength, Dexterity or Constitution? I considered using Intelligence or Wisdom or Charisma to elaborate on witty repartee versus force of personality. Cosmetic Rule stepped in again. Fine. I concede the Cosmetic Rule, how about an oracle for solo role playing? That’s actually already built into the mechanics with the four tiers of success. Ok, I need magic missiles and… Cosmetic Rule, file under Fighting Styles. A-ha! Fireball. Boosts. Next.

A previous review of Forthright referred to it as a haiku, and it is very true. As I explore its depths and come up with rules tweaks, the system itself says it’s already there, hidden beneath the three lines of poetry. I had thought Dungeon World would be my favorite RPG of all time, but I think Forthright is catching up. The more I try to tinker, the more the system pushes back, the closer I think it gets to winning.

Solo Gaming Appreciation Month #5

The Empress: Hm. It looks like a new beginning, a friend that needs guidance, and healing. Feels like conflict.

Scene 3:

Are there voices ahead?

Loom of Fate result: To conflict, 51. Yes… Surge Count: +2

Ahead, Wendy hears a pair of voices. She approaches a junction where three other tunnels meet, a drain guides four rivulets of water down further into the ground. The two voices mutter in aggressive whispers and seem to come from the corridor to the right.

Wendy presses up against the wall and creeps closer to listen.

One of the voices can be heard saying, “... Fetu’s. I’m sure it’s just up this way.”

Another voice replies, “Ya sure we should be doing this? The money’s good, but…”

The first voice responds, “Look, we break in, take some tech, and it’ll work out fine.”

Wendy smiles and pulls her NorAm Thunderbird from her leg. Someone wants to mess with Fetu? We’ll see about that.

Player rolls for stealth: 12, Exchange

“Did you see that?” asks the second voice.

“What?”

“I thought I saw some light over there.”

Wendy tenses and crouches down against the wall, her pistol held at her side and left hand open in case she needs extra help. She waits for them to come around the corner and investigate.

The pair shuffle forward with soft scrapes against the concrete floor. They’re slower, alert. One of them appears at the corner, a knife held ready.

Mob of 2 Thugs: +3 Fight, +0 Talk, +0 Skill, 20 Luck, 1d6 Harm

Wendy rises up from her crouch, positioning the first thug between her and the second. The Thunderbird comes up toward the man’s chest as she pulls the trigger.

Player rolls for combat: 15, Win. 4 Harm.

“Shit!” the target exclaims, twisting desperately to the side as a .50 caliber bullet erupts from the pistol. The bullet pierces through clothing and burrows into the wall behind him.

Thugs roll for combat: 12, Exchange. 5 Harm. Counterattack, 3 Harm.

The one armed with the knife steps to the side out of surprise, allowing the second opponent an opportunity to attack with his own pistol. It looks smaller than the Thunderbird, a little less deadly. The gun fires and sails past her shoulder.

Wendy recovers from her sidestep and counters by pressing forward. A discharge of powerful static rips from her hand at the second man, a line of energy scorching the wall behind him.

Player rolls for combat: 14, Exchange. 4 Harm. Counterattack, 4 Harm.

Her fist crackles with energy and comes across in a hook at the first man’s face.

The fist strikes against the thug’s head causing him to reel against the wall. The other thug’s pistol barks again and sends another bullet past her torso.

Thugs roll for combat: 4, Setback. Counterattack, 10 Harm.

The knife wielding thug lunges forward from the wall, but his attack is wide and leaves him thoroughly exposed.

Wendy’s jaw clenches with determination, her NAT enhanced vision plotting lines of crossing and momentum. Her free hand pushes the knife into the chest of the pistol wielding thug. The muzzle of the Thunderbird rests gently against the side of the first thug’s head.

A sharp report from the pistol sends a .50 caliber bullet through the man’s skull, spraying bone fragments against his friend. While the second man recovers from the knife wound, she grabs his chin in a cybernetic hand.

“You don’t mess with Fetu, ‘k?” she says before unleashing a torrent of lightning through his head.

She reaches down and searches the bodies, grabbing their wrist communicators. Fetu might be able to decipher who sent them and why if they didn’t delete that information.

The knife is pretty basic, and the pistol is also from NorAm, a Reliant, a common civilian firearm.

Loom of Fate: To knowledge, 62. Yes… Surge Count: +4.

Between the two of them, they have a few Kilobytes of currency on their cards.

Next scene: The Tower.

Solo Gaming Appreciation Month #4

The Hermit. Looks like it’s a contemplation and exposition scene. The Bundle of Holding included an RPG called The Nightmare Underneath, which also has a free version. The idea of spawning dungeons with anchors and such kind of fits this Dark City-esque setting.

Scene 2:

It’s just past midnight as Wendy approaches her bike. The light buzz of her drone comes from high above. The coordinates of the location are received by her wrist comm.

Wendy pulls up the details, tapping her wristband and scrolling through the holographic display. Is it nearby?

Loom of Fate result: To conflict, 93. Yes, and…

The updated map provided by Whiskey Actual shows a ping just ahead of her. The cul de sac’s manhole cover.

This appears to be easier than Wendy had expected. She calls down her drone as she pulls on a ballistic jacket over her shirt. Wendy pulls the sword free from its underslung position on her drone, sliding it into the scabbard attached to a baldric. A separate compartment opens where Wendy grabs her secondary North American Thunderbird pistol. She always carried one .50 strapped to her thigh; the second went under her arm.

She flexes the fingers on her left arm, the cybernetic enhancement making whispering clicks and whirrs. Wendy taps the wristband again and sends the drone skyward. If she was going into a sewer, explosives might be a bad idea.

Wendy easily pulls the manhole cover open. The ladder leads down into the dark underground tunnels.

She presses on her wristband, and the band illuminates like a flashlight. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but some of the work a Fox had to do could get messy. She had about 23 hours to complete this, so she may as well get on with it.

A notification comes up on the wrist comm: it’s a pic of a sock monkey.

The target is a sock monkey…? I hate sock monkeys.

Well, seeing as the target is a sock monkey, you’ll be killing one, too.

Sounds good.

While Wendy climbs into the tunnel, create an early memory for Wendy by rolling on the tables in BOLD.

• (1, 0) from Waylay Noun: weather
• 28 from Waylay Modifier: corrupt
• 3 from Waylay Solution: act of nature

Wendy found her ability to manipulate lightning when she was eight. She recalled the storm that had quickly appeared overhead. It was an unnatural storm: green sheets of lightning traced paths between the clouds. Instead of a single strike, a tendril of energy would touch the ground and carve a path like a pillar of destruction. One of those pillars had come toward her.

The bolt was wide, almost as wide as a pair of cars, and it moved with a speed she couldn’t outrun. Outside, among the trees a couple of miles from The City, Wendy had nowhere to run. She had watched as the lightning approached, feeling the build of static grow stronger as it got closer. That was when it touched her.

The pillar of green paused and warped. Unlike the trees that had fallen beneath its wake, the lightning curved and wrapped itself around her. She was enveloped within the energy, a bubble as wide and tall as she provided shelter from its reach. The bolt paused, and she looked up; she could see the heart of lightning resting above her, a core of pearlescent white that the green clung to.

The white heart pulled away then drove down through the protective bubble. It punctured its way to Wendy and touched her. It was warm. Not painful. Just a thread of energy that merged with her. Something awoke inside; somehow she knew that lightning wouldn’t hurt her. Her young arms spread skyward, fear turning to joy, and the lightning played around her, with her. Whips of energy cracked and moved in response to her requests. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the storm left, but a small core remained within.

Wendy reached the tunnel under the street, a small rivulet of water moves away from her. Behind her is a wall lined with damp bricks, marking where the cul de sac ends. The flashlight on her wrist shows a wide tunnel leading to the center of The City.

The next card: The Empress.

Solo Gaming Appreciation Month #3

The shared story structure for this week is from Todd Zircher’s Zero Tarot. The arcana are:

Effectively, they go from “The Fool” to “Death” and offer a guide or inspiration of the scenes that unfold. The Pool can be used to exchange a card or extend the story. Nine scenes should be enough. From part one, the story is about an evil mastermind, launching a ship (which I will likely make metaphorical) and destroying a grave.

Theme music: Bullets by Archive, Cyberpunk 2077 trailer version

Scene 1:

Wendy pulls the VIU helmet away, the room is dimly lit by a wall of scattered flat screen displays. The gaming chair is stiff but not too uncomfortable; just comfortable enough to keep people coming back without complaint. A tall, broad man walks in, footsteps surprisingly light and avoiding the tangle of cables with practiced ease.

“Why you keep playin’ dose fantasy games?” he asks with the remains of a Pacific Islander pidgin.

“To keep you in business?” Wendy responds, this conversation a long familiar one. She pulls the interface cable from behind her ear and gets up from the couch. She scans the dim room that may as well have been brightly lit with her artificial eyes. “I don’t see many clients.”

“Ay, no accounting fo’ taste, brah. When you see what I got planned next… Who was it this time?”

“Petra.”

“Petra. The Warlock girl, yeah? Ya know, mos’ people come hea to escape. Sex. Drugs. Be a star. Why you keep playin’ the same kine game?”

“Look around, Fetu. This is anything but normal. Besides, Kyriel, Visemar, Petra… if I can see how the game works, maybe I can see how this,” and Wendy sweeps her hands around the room to encompass the outside world, “works.”

“Foxy-”

“You know not to call me that.”

“Yeah, I know. An’ you know not to bullshit me. Look around, D. It is what it is.”

Wendy walks toward the stairs leading up from the basement. “It is what it is,” she sighs.

The stairs go up to the first floor of the VIU arcade. The door is locked shut and the blinds are pulled closed. It’s a small, cramped storefront, barely big enough to hold more than seven or eight people at a time. Display cases offer memory cards of various value, everything from How to Repair Electronics to music libraries to movies of all kinds. Little tiny chips with small price tags underneath.

“Ay, Fetu. Anything new?” she calls down the stairs.

Fetu returns to the first floor and gets behind the counter. “Nah. Same shit, lata date.”

“What were you saying about coming up next?”

Fetu smiles, “It’s a surprise, D. Been coding a new module.”

“Can’t wait. You’re a weird GM sometimes.”

“Weird? You seen what’s outside sometimes?”

“Point. Speaking of weird, ain’t it about time for The Change?”

The world outside changes every day at midnight like clockwork. You could set your watch by it and some do. It tries to accommodate for the location of all the people but, sometimes, people just end up part of the scenery. There are a few persistent locations, Fetu’s being one, which become gathering centers: storefronts, banks, business offices. And they’ll occasionally be used for the few people stuck in the streets when The Change takes place.

Wendy walks over to the window and pulls the blinds aside to watch the world become something else. There was the one time her apartment ended up as ocean front property. Which would be nice if she hadn’t rolled out of bed and into an ocean. Since then, she stayed awake until The Change was complete.

Outside, the littered rain slick streets of The City were illuminated by street lights. Fetu’s, the VIU arcade, was at the end of an alley. The streets were empty as people clustered in their homes, most asleep, some waiting for The Change to complete and go about their business.

An overly pleasant gender-neutral voice emanated from above The City, “Reconfiguration in 20 seconds. 19. 18.”

As the countdown reached 15, everything lit with a gridwork of phosphorescent green. At 10, the panels within the grid lines filled with white.

“9.” Another series of monochromatic green grids superimposed themselves over the white panels, suggesting a landscape of small rectangular buildings. Naturally, Fetu’s remained as it was, though the finish might change once everything settled.

“8.” The alleyway faded from the pearlescent white to a carpet of the phosphorescent green. Starting from Fetu’s, the greenery shot forward and spread across the ground, replacing the white with itself.

“7.” A storm of green tiling raced down the alley, coating the surrounding buildings. The shapes of the street lights intensified beneath its weight.

“6.” The street lights buckled and collapsed into the carpeting where the sidewalk had been.

“5.” Anything over two stories was shorn free by whatever hand guided The Change. They simply vanished as if deleted in a burst of white.

Wendy muttered beneath her breath, “Wonder where they’ll end up.”

“4.” The sky cleared and returned to the dark of night. The stars looked on as if nothing had happened. The gibbous moon waited for the rest of the world to settle.

“3.” The ground grew firm and lost its green cast. Fetu was at the edge of a cul de sac. Asphalt faded into view with a manhole cover at the center. The alley had gone from being straight and narrow to circular within twenty seconds. Where the street lights had been, tall narrow trees were planted evenly around the circle.

“2.” The buildings closest to Wendy took on a more natural tone. Browns and beige with hints of brickwork. A strange hodge podge of 2097 style with Old World architecture.

“Hey, Fetu. It’s like a village out here. With neon.”

“1.” The neon signs of the nearby stores faded into a muted copy of itself. Off in the distance, tiny buildings winked into existence, and the world became solid once more.

“Reconfiguration complete. Remaining time, 23 hours, 59 minutes and 57 seconds.”

“You was saying ‘bout my GM style?” Fetu asked wryly.

Wendy’s comm implant buzzed an alert, “Whiskey Actual to Fox Three.”

“Fox Three, go ahead,” she replied via her subvocal implant.

“Target acquired. Sending coordinates to your wrist comms. You should have details in hand within two minutes.”

“Copy, Actual.” Wendy taps the bracelet on her wrist. She swipes across the holographic projection on her arm and calls for her drone.

Fetu nods, knowing what to expect when she got the far away look in her eye. He presses the button to unlock the door for her, “Off ta work already, eh?”

“Life of a Fox…”

Solo Gaming Appreciation Month #2

Previously, I used Instant Game to generate a setting and the first story seeds. Now, it’s time to use Forthright to generate the setting guidelines (the Gamescape) and a character.

The game is called “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.” It’s kind of like what happens when science fantasy and Cyberpunk meet Dark City, Equilibrium, Ultraviolet and Advent Children levels of wuxia.

How does the wilderness, frontier and artificial intelligence results work into the Gamescape?

That Dark City reference. The environment reshapes itself after 16 hours. Right now, it’s a futuristic village in the middle of a woodland.

Do elves exist, then?

In a manner of speaking. When the New Age began, there were some people marked with pointed ears as being ageless. Since it’s only been 28 years since all this began, there’s no evidence they’re actually ageless.

Dwarves? Dragons? Demons?

Yes. Yes. Maybe…?

Science fantasy cyberpunk. So, an augmented elven mage is possible.

Yep.

What happened 28 years ago?

2069, a hundred years after the first lunar landing, it was finally proved, with strong supporting evidence, that it was faked. The technology, that is. The US went to the moon through a translocation ritual then were told not to do it again. The problem with secrets: what happens if another group succeeds without knowing not to do it?

And things hit the fan.

Once the ritual was completed, the backlash flooded Earth and altered it. Landscapes changed, magic washed through the world and here we are. Anyone born after 2069 is referred to as a New Ager; pre-2069 people are Old People. With the world going haywire, three underground classifications were created: Whiskeys refer to people that do the hiring; Tangos are the bad folk that antagonize the general populace; and Foxtrots (foxes) are who Whiskeys hire to do their dirty work.

And the thing on the moon?

Cthulhu. Demogorgon. Aliens. Nazis. No one is sure anymore.

Hm. Looking over the ranking of Combat, Intrigue and Mystery, I’m not too fond of Intrigue, so…

Combat: 1st, Mystery: 2nd and Intrigue: 3rd.

Odd result, female character; even result, male.

1, female

I’ll make Wendy Byrne, augmented elven mage.

Description?

Are elves human sized, short like early D&D or tall like Tolkien?

Human sized.

Average height for a human female, then. CDC says that’s 5’4. Medium build. Shaved bob of platinum hair. Some kind of blue eyes.

Technically, if she’s augmented, it could be any eye color.

Solid black might be too otherworldly. I’ll stick with #4169E1, Royal Blue.

Principles?

First, discover the purpose and issue with the artificial intelligence.

Second, figure out who the Whiskeys are and where they come from.

Stats.

+2 Fight, +0 Talk and +1 Skill. Wendy has 30 Luck. Since this setting is influenced by Equilibrium and Ultraviolet, I’ll choose to begin with the Juggernaut fighting stance. Agent Persona with the Foxtrots and the Athlete Skillset.

Her three Boosts are: Darkvision (New Age Technologies Ocular Implant Mk II), Retaliate and Elemental Control (Lightning)

She has one dependable friend, Fetu, that also runs the local Virtual Interface Unit arcade. Her sanctuary is a coffin at the, usually, local hotel.

Next, session 1...