The Coriolis ks came along at a time when we were suffering a periodic bout of rpg-burnout. We’d recently moved and our long-term group was broken up. Didn’t feel comfortable with a couple of groups we tried in our new location. Saw the ks for this and the husband told me one morning he had been dreaming of the insectoid space ships from the artwork. We backed the project that day.
He (the husband) started the Coriolis G+ group before the crowd funding finished. Ran it until Google decided to dismantle one of their greatest projects (may the Icons bless that pile of ruined electrons).
We watched the tracking on the shipment of books and were angry when the local delivery dropped the box off at the wrong address. We lived in
very rural Washington state--five houses on two miles of gravel road. The monotone locals warned us not to go to
that house.
Foreigners, the monotone locals said.
Be careful.
Well, I’ve been a foreigner where I’ve lived for more of my life than I haven’t, so I hiked up my proverbial petticoats (never actually worn a petticoat), put on my boots, and hiked down to these suspicious types at the end of the dark wooded path.
They were a multi-generational house of Mali-Americans (two vets of the USMC among them) with Tuareg heritage. I was raised somewhat in a shared religion, so I then understand both wariness of the monotone locals as well as a smidgeon of the family's own culture. We drank tea and talked about
what’s in the box and it intrigued them; we were intrigued by each other as well. I left a copy of the core book (both collector’s editions were in the shipment) and we agreed to set up a game soon.
Our two best games--two of the best rpg experiences I’ve been involved with--happened over the next couple months. A play group ranging in age from 17-72! One memorable evening was a zero-prep evening where the GM riffed off
Escape From NY -- Coriolis Governor, intent on showing off progress in the nether regions of the station, makes a walking tour for media down in the bowels of the lower levels and gets kidnapped. Clocking is ticking to save them… It was a gloriously naughty word up mess in-game, complete with explosive cliff-hanging ending that was never sequeled. Sorry, Gov. You had to die so others might live.
The Damoclesian blade of such a glorious-but-temporary play-group is that when they moved away--as we did shortly thereafter--even when rejoining our previous long-term group, we never equalled the focus and intention of gaming as we had with that family of strangers-become-friends. Thank you UPS mis-delivery; without a lazy and/or inattentive driver, we likely would have never gamed with them!
Love Coriolis. Miss the magic of playing in that rich tapestry of setting, art, and imagination. The game revived my love of role-playing games at a much-needed time in life.
Alas! We must currently settle for a handful of other rpgs to enjoy until the Third Horizon calls out to us again.