Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Even for an episode where nothing much happens, this was pretty good. I could definitely see running this as a duet game, with a GM and a player, maybe layered on top of a sci-fi RPG system of one's choice.
[Notorious] Space Bounty: Rendezvous on Storix
- Thread starter Whizbang Dustyboots
- Start date
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Whoops, I realize I forgot to use the Reaction table while talking to this first NPC. Will be remembering to incorporate that next turn.
Joshua Randall
Legend
Ooh, is it is like the old AD&D reaction table with all kinds of crazy situational modifiers?
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
No, it's a chart that looks at what kind of NPC they are -- local, asset, hostile, lead or target -- and then whether you're speaking, threatening, attacking or recruiting them, and directs you to the proper table or says when you can't do that action. (A nomad can't recruit any NPCs other than locals or assets, and only when directed to by other tables.)
Joshua Randall
Legend
Me: ooh, is it like (notoriously overcomplicated AD&D table)?
Whizbang Dustyboots: no, it is (table of 4 items by 4 items each of which can direct you to another table) — totally different.
Whizbang Dustyboots: no, it is (table of 4 items by 4 items each of which can direct you to another table) — totally different.
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Hey, at least these are d6 tables rather than d100.Me: ooh, is it like (notoriously overcomplicated AD&D table)?
Whizbang Dustyboots: no, it is (table of 4 items by 4 items each of which can direct you to another table) — totally different.
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Albedo rode on crowded transports between industrial sites, getting off before arriving at facilities where he'd need to show identification and explain what he was doing there. But on the long rides through near-lightless valleys, squeezed between sweaty and exhausted workers, no one cared about him or why he was there.
Now he walked along a road toward a set of Targ Cartel huts. After leaving the mine, he'd watched Niff Rolan through his electrobinoculars and seen him gesturing the way Albedo had gone to a pair of Ghols and then pointed them down a road out into the badlands. The pair had gone racing off on hoverbikes that way soon after. That seemed a good place to look for leads.
The sounds of a loud argument called him up short. Stepping away from the roadway, Albedo found a small rise and crawled up it, peeking over the edge.
Ahead, off the side of the road, a large vehicle, festooned with warnings about explosive materials on board, had lost the treads on one side. The beleaguered driver, a Lek'tok fluttering its wings in distress, argued with a pair of Ghols dressed not for the mines, but for an office somewhere. Nearby was a low sleek luxury vehicle, although one battered by its use on this rough world. Albedo would have taken this for managers haranguing a luckless employee except for the tell-tale bulges that showed both Ghol were armed. Red Moon Syndicate made men, then, upset that things were running behind schedule for them.
"Don't Get Attached." The Nomad Code was very clear: Nomads are hired to do a job, not to magically clean up the galaxy. This driver was on his own.
Albedo slid back down, out of sight, and rolled onto his back, relaxing and waiting for the noise to settle down.
Once things quieted, he dusted himself off and continued down the road. He tipped his hat to the two Red Moon enforcers as he passed, the sullen Lek'tok, roughed up but alive, not meeting Albedo's gaze as he worked to repair the transport.
The Red Moon Syndicate preferred a low profile and ran Storix through control over the planet's legitimate officials. If they were showing their hand here, they were upset about something and would be prepared to kill anyone who interfered.
"Nice piece," one thug said, spotting one of Albedo's pistols peeking from beneath his poncho. But his body language posed no challenge, apparently recognizing that taking on Albedo would likely go poorly for them, even outnumbering him.
"Nice ride," Albedo returned, walking past their vehicle and off toward the distant outpost.
The Targ outpost appeared to be some sort of simple travel stop, offering hydrogen, electricity, vehicle repairs and refreshments. But the illuminated sign of a happy slug wearing overalls and holding a wrench in one pseudopod suggested that Red Moon drivers likely wouldn't be welcome here, unless they wanted to answer some difficult questions about who they really worked for.
The Patch 'n' Pump offered disgusting food. A red donut-like thing filled with blue jam and dusted in a pollen-like yellow sweetener and cans of soda found across the galaxy despite no one seeming to enjoy it were the most edible things Albedo spotted on offer.
A bickering pair of battered and outdated droids ran the place, which partly explained the terrible food.
Albedo pulled out his data pad. The droids stopped their argument and one rotated its head towards the Nomad.
"Facula Albedo?"
Albedo paused, tucking the data pad back away.
"Yes."
"We were told you might be coming. Someone out back wants to talk to you."
Albedo considered a moment and put the donut back. If he was going to get shot, he didn't want that to be his last meal.
It was one of the two Ghol hoverbike drivers. His buddy wasn't around, or hiding somewhere out of sight. He had his pistol out, although it didn't look like he'd ever used it on anything more threatening than cans of soda.
"Put that away, kid, or you won't live to regret it."
The Ghol's red eyes narrowed. He was jumpy, hopped up on something. The pistol whipped up and he fired, his shot going wide.
It took him a second to realize that Albedo's shot did not. The Ghol looked down, eyes growing wide at the smoking hole in the middle of his chest before he keeled over.
Albedo checked his hat, making sure it wasn't clipped by the kid's shot, and then went over to examine the dead Ghol's data pad.
Now he walked along a road toward a set of Targ Cartel huts. After leaving the mine, he'd watched Niff Rolan through his electrobinoculars and seen him gesturing the way Albedo had gone to a pair of Ghols and then pointed them down a road out into the badlands. The pair had gone racing off on hoverbikes that way soon after. That seemed a good place to look for leads.
The sounds of a loud argument called him up short. Stepping away from the roadway, Albedo found a small rise and crawled up it, peeking over the edge.
Ahead, off the side of the road, a large vehicle, festooned with warnings about explosive materials on board, had lost the treads on one side. The beleaguered driver, a Lek'tok fluttering its wings in distress, argued with a pair of Ghols dressed not for the mines, but for an office somewhere. Nearby was a low sleek luxury vehicle, although one battered by its use on this rough world. Albedo would have taken this for managers haranguing a luckless employee except for the tell-tale bulges that showed both Ghol were armed. Red Moon Syndicate made men, then, upset that things were running behind schedule for them.
"Don't Get Attached." The Nomad Code was very clear: Nomads are hired to do a job, not to magically clean up the galaxy. This driver was on his own.
Albedo slid back down, out of sight, and rolled onto his back, relaxing and waiting for the noise to settle down.
Once things quieted, he dusted himself off and continued down the road. He tipped his hat to the two Red Moon enforcers as he passed, the sullen Lek'tok, roughed up but alive, not meeting Albedo's gaze as he worked to repair the transport.
The Red Moon Syndicate preferred a low profile and ran Storix through control over the planet's legitimate officials. If they were showing their hand here, they were upset about something and would be prepared to kill anyone who interfered.
"Nice piece," one thug said, spotting one of Albedo's pistols peeking from beneath his poncho. But his body language posed no challenge, apparently recognizing that taking on Albedo would likely go poorly for them, even outnumbering him.
"Nice ride," Albedo returned, walking past their vehicle and off toward the distant outpost.
The Targ outpost appeared to be some sort of simple travel stop, offering hydrogen, electricity, vehicle repairs and refreshments. But the illuminated sign of a happy slug wearing overalls and holding a wrench in one pseudopod suggested that Red Moon drivers likely wouldn't be welcome here, unless they wanted to answer some difficult questions about who they really worked for.
The Patch 'n' Pump offered disgusting food. A red donut-like thing filled with blue jam and dusted in a pollen-like yellow sweetener and cans of soda found across the galaxy despite no one seeming to enjoy it were the most edible things Albedo spotted on offer.
A bickering pair of battered and outdated droids ran the place, which partly explained the terrible food.
Albedo pulled out his data pad. The droids stopped their argument and one rotated its head towards the Nomad.
"Facula Albedo?"
Albedo paused, tucking the data pad back away.
"Yes."
"We were told you might be coming. Someone out back wants to talk to you."
Albedo considered a moment and put the donut back. If he was going to get shot, he didn't want that to be his last meal.
It was one of the two Ghol hoverbike drivers. His buddy wasn't around, or hiding somewhere out of sight. He had his pistol out, although it didn't look like he'd ever used it on anything more threatening than cans of soda.
"Put that away, kid, or you won't live to regret it."
The Ghol's red eyes narrowed. He was jumpy, hopped up on something. The pistol whipped up and he fired, his shot going wide.
It took him a second to realize that Albedo's shot did not. The Ghol looked down, eyes growing wide at the smoking hole in the middle of his chest before he keeled over.
Albedo checked his hat, making sure it wasn't clipped by the kid's shot, and then went over to examine the dead Ghol's data pad.
I rolled a 5 on the Exploration table. If I had a Notoriety of 3 or higher, I would have encountered a Lead. Instead, I roll on the Exploration Events table.
I rolled a 3 and land on the second table and roll a 4 for the specific event of a Local arguing with two Hostiles from the controlling Faction of the planet. I can choose to intervene and, if successful in combat, attempt to recruit the Local as a result, or sit back and watch the argument play out, gaining 1 Favour and learn about the loud destructive machine they were arguing over.
After that, I rolled a 2 on the Destination table and arrive at a small outpost or enclave run by the challenging faction. I can either Search for anyone who might know the target and gave 1 Favour or speak with a local and then rest to gain 1 Motivation.
Details of the outpost were rolled using Roll & Play's Gamemaster's Sci-Fi Toolkit
I choose Search and roll a 4 on the Search table: Find a Hostile who's been paid to slow me down. I chose to Threaten him, which means I add half of my Notoriety, rounded up, to my roll. Half of 1, rounded up, is 1. I roll opposed rolls for me and the Ghol. I get a 1+1, he gets a 6, meaning we move to combat instead, with the Ghol getting a +1 on his Challenge rating.
I roll a 6+4 from my pistols. The Ghol rolls a 4+1 for his weapon+1 for not being scared off by the threat, -1 for my duster and hat, so he loses.
I had the choice of sparing him or killing him, each giving a different stat bonus. Albedo chooses to gun this guy down, to hopefully scare off others from trying the same, gaining another point of Notoriety.
I rolled a 3 and land on the second table and roll a 4 for the specific event of a Local arguing with two Hostiles from the controlling Faction of the planet. I can choose to intervene and, if successful in combat, attempt to recruit the Local as a result, or sit back and watch the argument play out, gaining 1 Favour and learn about the loud destructive machine they were arguing over.
After that, I rolled a 2 on the Destination table and arrive at a small outpost or enclave run by the challenging faction. I can either Search for anyone who might know the target and gave 1 Favour or speak with a local and then rest to gain 1 Motivation.
Details of the outpost were rolled using Roll & Play's Gamemaster's Sci-Fi Toolkit
I choose Search and roll a 4 on the Search table: Find a Hostile who's been paid to slow me down. I chose to Threaten him, which means I add half of my Notoriety, rounded up, to my roll. Half of 1, rounded up, is 1. I roll opposed rolls for me and the Ghol. I get a 1+1, he gets a 6, meaning we move to combat instead, with the Ghol getting a +1 on his Challenge rating.
I roll a 6+4 from my pistols. The Ghol rolls a 4+1 for his weapon+1 for not being scared off by the threat, -1 for my duster and hat, so he loses.
I had the choice of sparing him or killing him, each giving a different stat bonus. Albedo chooses to gun this guy down, to hopefully scare off others from trying the same, gaining another point of Notoriety.
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Joshua Randall
Legend
Duster and Hat OP!
but yeah, this is great. Nailing the tone.
but yeah, this is great. Nailing the tone.
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Obviously, there's more to Star Wars than bounty hunters, but this is a really nice story engine for this. We'll see how it goes when Mystic Order not-Jedi show up.
Whizbang Dustyboots
Gnometown Hero
Albedo woke up, his back warm, his body shaking, looking at a lit sliver of the sky between two ragged cliffs. His mouth was try and lips cracked.
He was laying down on something. Albedo turned his head and saw he was on a hover-trailer, being pulled by a lizard like beast of burden ridden by a Lek'tok.
A chill running through him, Albedo felt for his pistols. Gone. His stun baton? Gone.
The Lek'tok turned its head nearly all the way around to look at him with whitish eyes that looked half-molted.
"I have them up here. Didn't want you to get spooked when you woke up and do something that would make me regret rescuing you."
"Rescuing me?" Albedo's voice was a croak, his throat parched.
"Humans come to this world, see the mountains, the deep shadows. They stay away from the volcanos. Trick themselves into thinking it's wet. Found you passed out on the side of the road, dozens of clicks from anywhere. And no water bottles anywhere."
"Dehydration," Albedo's head fell back against the vibrating hover-trailer, ignoring the smell of animals and fertilizer it emanated.
"Happens to livestock too some time. They're almost as dumb as you." The Lek'tok rubbed its forelimbs together in a quick motion, making a rapid squeak. Lek'tok laughter, maybe. "I gave you a shot. Should be feeling better soon. Don't expect you to be grateful, though. Just saved your life."
Albedo smiled, feeling the moisture returning to his mouth.
"I'll need those guns back and the baton."
"Oh, I know. Holster is worn. These aren't for show. You're too small to be a Targ Cartel enforcer. Too dumb to be a Red Moon agent. Old Empire would send a dozen soldiers in armor. New Uprising would send pretty young things with political literature. So you a Nomad, dummy?"
"Are you this polite to everyone you save from death?"
The Lek'tok made the squeaking sound again.
"Yeah, I'm a Nomad. Looking for a member of the Mystic Order, Itsuki Itch."
"Don't know them."
"My name is Facula Albedo. What do they call you?"
"Tiki Dokk. I work on a farm." He made a clicking noise apparently to modify the type of farm, a word in Lek'tok, not something in Galactic Standard.
"Do you want easier work? I could use a discreet ride as I look for my target."
"If I wanted your money, I would just have let you die and sold your fancy pistols, dummy."
Albedo sat up on the trailer, Tiki and the road ahead.
"You find a lot of humans passed out on the side of the road?"
The squeaking noise again.
"Oh, yes. Sometimes just dead bodies."
Tiki pulled something from a basket beside him on a seat and offered it to Albedo.
"Imperial Rescue Agency," Albedo said, turning the medallion over in his hand.
"She was terrible at her job. Dried up like jerky on the side of the road when I found her. Not going to rescue anyone now."
More prolonged squeaking again.
Tiki guided his lizard beast toward a series of enormous mounds made of mud and a papery coating the Lek'toks created in some fashion. An aluminum hut selling services for humans lurked on the edge of the settlement. An illuminated sign announced "DELICIOUS EATS," although Albedo was deeply skeptical.
"I suppose I should load up on drinking water."
"I don't know your target, dummy, but I know someone who might. Mystic Order hermit lives in caves," Tiki said, pointing up at the ridge line on the far side of the village.
Albedo ascended into the caves. He expected a camp site or a mystical retreat. Wind chimes. Prayer wheels. Instead, it's some sort of hive structure. Starlander is supposed to be human, not Lek'tok, but the caves are full of an organic substance with fluid quietly passing through it and which gives slightly under Albedo's foot steps. There's just one path visible in the light from the cave's mouth, and Albedo follows it until coming to a man-sized oval, an amber-colored transluscent sphincter.
Albedo raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. The surface looked vaguely sticky.
"Master Starlander? Can you hear me? The people in the village said you might be able to help me."
Movement was visible through the sphincter. A shape drew near and then the sphincter opens partially with a wet noise.
An old man, lean but hard, peered out at Albedo, brilliant blue eyes in a face the color of old leather.
Albedo opened his mouth, but Starlander cut him off, hard eyes moving across the Nomad's scar where it peeked out from under his eyepatch.
"No," he said. "That cut edged with burn scars: plasma sword scar. Fight your own wars, fools. You have stepped off the Path."
Before Albedo could object, the sphincter closed again with a squelch. He banged on the door anyway, confirming that it was sticky.
"I'm not with the Mystic Order! It was a duel at the imperial flight academy! I'm looking for ..."
But there was silence beyond the door, not even a shadow beyond it. Albedo was yelling at no one. He sighed, wiping his knuckles on his woven poncho and headed back to town.
Delicious Eats turned out to be anything but. There was a blue drink the Lek'toks insisted that mammals loved, but Albedo would not be swayed. He bought plenty of drinking water, though, and emergency foodstuffs bearing the Imperial Rescue Agency label, before setting out again, riding another hover-trailer out of town.
He was laying down on something. Albedo turned his head and saw he was on a hover-trailer, being pulled by a lizard like beast of burden ridden by a Lek'tok.
A chill running through him, Albedo felt for his pistols. Gone. His stun baton? Gone.
The Lek'tok turned its head nearly all the way around to look at him with whitish eyes that looked half-molted.
"I have them up here. Didn't want you to get spooked when you woke up and do something that would make me regret rescuing you."
"Rescuing me?" Albedo's voice was a croak, his throat parched.
"Humans come to this world, see the mountains, the deep shadows. They stay away from the volcanos. Trick themselves into thinking it's wet. Found you passed out on the side of the road, dozens of clicks from anywhere. And no water bottles anywhere."
"Dehydration," Albedo's head fell back against the vibrating hover-trailer, ignoring the smell of animals and fertilizer it emanated.
"Happens to livestock too some time. They're almost as dumb as you." The Lek'tok rubbed its forelimbs together in a quick motion, making a rapid squeak. Lek'tok laughter, maybe. "I gave you a shot. Should be feeling better soon. Don't expect you to be grateful, though. Just saved your life."
Albedo smiled, feeling the moisture returning to his mouth.
"I'll need those guns back and the baton."
"Oh, I know. Holster is worn. These aren't for show. You're too small to be a Targ Cartel enforcer. Too dumb to be a Red Moon agent. Old Empire would send a dozen soldiers in armor. New Uprising would send pretty young things with political literature. So you a Nomad, dummy?"
"Are you this polite to everyone you save from death?"
The Lek'tok made the squeaking sound again.
"Yeah, I'm a Nomad. Looking for a member of the Mystic Order, Itsuki Itch."
"Don't know them."
"My name is Facula Albedo. What do they call you?"
"Tiki Dokk. I work on a farm." He made a clicking noise apparently to modify the type of farm, a word in Lek'tok, not something in Galactic Standard.
"Do you want easier work? I could use a discreet ride as I look for my target."
"If I wanted your money, I would just have let you die and sold your fancy pistols, dummy."
Albedo sat up on the trailer, Tiki and the road ahead.
"You find a lot of humans passed out on the side of the road?"
The squeaking noise again.
"Oh, yes. Sometimes just dead bodies."
Tiki pulled something from a basket beside him on a seat and offered it to Albedo.
"Imperial Rescue Agency," Albedo said, turning the medallion over in his hand.
"She was terrible at her job. Dried up like jerky on the side of the road when I found her. Not going to rescue anyone now."
More prolonged squeaking again.
Tiki guided his lizard beast toward a series of enormous mounds made of mud and a papery coating the Lek'toks created in some fashion. An aluminum hut selling services for humans lurked on the edge of the settlement. An illuminated sign announced "DELICIOUS EATS," although Albedo was deeply skeptical.
"I suppose I should load up on drinking water."
"I don't know your target, dummy, but I know someone who might. Mystic Order hermit lives in caves," Tiki said, pointing up at the ridge line on the far side of the village.
Albedo ascended into the caves. He expected a camp site or a mystical retreat. Wind chimes. Prayer wheels. Instead, it's some sort of hive structure. Starlander is supposed to be human, not Lek'tok, but the caves are full of an organic substance with fluid quietly passing through it and which gives slightly under Albedo's foot steps. There's just one path visible in the light from the cave's mouth, and Albedo follows it until coming to a man-sized oval, an amber-colored transluscent sphincter.
Albedo raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. The surface looked vaguely sticky.
"Master Starlander? Can you hear me? The people in the village said you might be able to help me."
Movement was visible through the sphincter. A shape drew near and then the sphincter opens partially with a wet noise.
An old man, lean but hard, peered out at Albedo, brilliant blue eyes in a face the color of old leather.
Albedo opened his mouth, but Starlander cut him off, hard eyes moving across the Nomad's scar where it peeked out from under his eyepatch.
"No," he said. "That cut edged with burn scars: plasma sword scar. Fight your own wars, fools. You have stepped off the Path."
Before Albedo could object, the sphincter closed again with a squelch. He banged on the door anyway, confirming that it was sticky.
"I'm not with the Mystic Order! It was a duel at the imperial flight academy! I'm looking for ..."
But there was silence beyond the door, not even a shadow beyond it. Albedo was yelling at no one. He sighed, wiping his knuckles on his woven poncho and headed back to town.
Delicious Eats turned out to be anything but. There was a blue drink the Lek'toks insisted that mammals loved, but Albedo would not be swayed. He bought plenty of drinking water, though, and emergency foodstuffs bearing the Imperial Rescue Agency label, before setting out again, riding another hover-trailer out of town.
Rolled a 2 on Exploration. If my notoriety was 6 or higher, I would encounter a lead. Instead, I'm directed to the exploration events table. I rolled a 2, meaning I go to the first such table, and then rolled a 3, meaning I succumb to exhaustion. I wake up being dragged behind someone on a vehicle or beast. They've saved my life and are non-hostile and I have the opportunity to recruit them.
Rolling between the three main species on Storix, the rescuer is a Lek'tok named Tiki Dokk, with a rude personality. I rolled another d6, with 1-3 matching each of the factions on the planet, and 4-6 to say Tiki is unaligned. I roll a 5: He's just an unaligned regular person.
For recruiting, I roll and add half of my favor (3), rounded up (2). I roll a 2, for a total of 4, which I compare to Tiki's roll, of a 3. Success.
I roll to see what sort of asset Tiki has/is. I roll a 2. He's a crop farmer or tribal elder, who gives me a charm, necklace or other small memento that I use to gain 2 Motivation (metagame currency) when I next encounter a lead or target.
Then I roll on the destinations table to see where I end up. I roll a 4, meaning I end up in a small town run by unaffiliated locals like Tiki. Rolling on the destination events table, I get a 2 and then roll a 5 on that table, and learn that a reclusive mystic mentor lives nearby, a human named Sol Starlander. I roll a 2 and the mystic takes one look at my scar and turns me away, refusing to help me.
Returning to the village, I have the choice of speaking with a local and resting, or bartering for supplies and gaining another point of Motivation.
Rolling between the three main species on Storix, the rescuer is a Lek'tok named Tiki Dokk, with a rude personality. I rolled another d6, with 1-3 matching each of the factions on the planet, and 4-6 to say Tiki is unaligned. I roll a 5: He's just an unaligned regular person.
For recruiting, I roll and add half of my favor (3), rounded up (2). I roll a 2, for a total of 4, which I compare to Tiki's roll, of a 3. Success.
I roll to see what sort of asset Tiki has/is. I roll a 2. He's a crop farmer or tribal elder, who gives me a charm, necklace or other small memento that I use to gain 2 Motivation (metagame currency) when I next encounter a lead or target.
Then I roll on the destinations table to see where I end up. I roll a 4, meaning I end up in a small town run by unaffiliated locals like Tiki. Rolling on the destination events table, I get a 2 and then roll a 5 on that table, and learn that a reclusive mystic mentor lives nearby, a human named Sol Starlander. I roll a 2 and the mystic takes one look at my scar and turns me away, refusing to help me.
Returning to the village, I have the choice of speaking with a local and resting, or bartering for supplies and gaining another point of Motivation.
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