What is Interface-Zero?( Q&A for RDP's upcoming True20 "cyberpunk" game setting)

[Great Green God]

IZ: Icon

“3 Cobblers” (Rookie)
Ru Trey, a Neo Maoist of the first rank, fights a war of words against the memes spread by the Mandarin elite that have held sway in his homeland since before he was born. 3 Cobblers, or just Cobblers for short, takes his stage name from the saying “It takes three humble shoemakers to make one Zhuge Liang” (a famous Chinese statesman, inventor and tactician whose name is synonymous with genius). Cobblers is just starting to make a name for himself on the Circuit – a collection of underground clubs and street racing meets, where he occasionally drives for money. His passion though lies in his music and his message. They speak to a return to an idealized communist past, which the young sprawl kid has only ever experienced in historical sims banned by the Mandarinate.
Cobblers is a rangy Han punk, with a few wisps of facial hair. He has the look of a feral alley cat about him and moves with the same sort of careless grace - a side-effect of his genetic upgrades.


Role: Icon 1
Background: Ismist
Style/Substance: Subversive Hip Hop Artist
Abilities: Str +0, Dex +2, Con +1, Int +1, Wis +0, Cha +3
Skills: Acrobatic +6, Climb +8, Drive +6, Knowledge (popular culture) +5, Jump +4, Perform (sing) +10
Languages: Mandarin, English
Feats: Dedicated, Favored Opponent (security forces), Improved Strike, Iron Will, Lucky, Skill Focus (Performance (sing)), Upgrade
Combat: Attack +2, Defense +2, Initiative +2
Saves: Fort +5, Reflex +6, Will +6, Toughness +2 (+1 Con, +1 armor)
Core Ability: Ultimate Performance (sing)
Conviction: 3, Reputation: +2, Tolerance: 15
Virtue: Determined, Vice: Impulsive
Wealth: +3
Bio-Upgrades: Semi-Arboreal
Cyber-Upgrades: Basic TAP
Weapons: Weighted gloves (+1 damage)
Equipment: ganger’s leathers (+1 Toughness), DJ mixer

 

[Urizen]

Just a quick update.

The manuscript is in the editing stage, and I have to say it's much better than I had anticipated.

This book is gonna rock some socks.

 

[Daebryn]

I have a question about the cybernetics.

Is it going to be feat based like in True20 Cybernetics or are you going to use the Cybernetics as Equipment rules or something completely different?

I ask because I never really cared for True20 Cybernetic's feat based approach as it can be very difficult to actually create the kind of heavily cybered Street Samurai/Solo type characters you often see in cyberpunk games.

 

[Urizen]

Hiya. I'm really excited about the way Interface Zero handles aquisition of cyberware.

Characters have what is called capacity. A hero's capacity is equal to her Fortitude save modifier + 10. Each piece of cyberware will have an Invasiveness Rating reflecting how hard it is on the body's natural balance. Subtract the total combined Invasiveness rating of all systems from the Capacity. As a character's Capacity drops, she will begin to show the effects: afflictions of the body and mind. So, you can buy as much cyberware as you can afford, so long as you don't go past your capacity.

You can also get upgrade feats. Upgrade feats allow you to purchase a piece of cyberware at a purchase difficulty denoted by the amount of points you have (each time you take an upgrade feat you get 3 points). You spend them just like cash. You don't have to use the points immediately, and can "save" them until you have aquired enough upgrade points to get the gear you want. And you can rationalize the aquisition of this shiny new chrome in any way which makes sense for your character; It doesn't have to be about money.

This allows poor heroes to get some wizbang chrome too

Be careful though. if you get too much cyberware, it'll affect you physically and mentally.

 

[BSF]

Sounds like this is going to rock! Is it still on target for the end of May? If so, then I probably won't be able to get it right away. I will be on vacation - which is good in a different way.

 

[Urizen]

Yeah, we're still looking at a late May/early June release.

It'll be worth the wait though, trust me on this one.

I haven't even mentioned powered armor suits yet.

 

[Brutorz Bill]

"Human 2.0 – Engineered at birth to be more than human, you are more intelligent and enduring than your fellow man.

Hybrid – Gene cross-spliced with animal DNA you have the abilities (and occasionally looks and demeanor) of the beasts you have been crossed with.

Combat Simulacrum – You have forged into a living weapon."


These sound really cool to me! Could they be plugged in to your Reign of Discordia setting?
Really like the sound of the Hybrid!

 

[Urizen]

"Human 2.0 – Engineered at birth to be more than human, you are more intelligent and enduring than your fellow man.

Hybrid – Gene cross-spliced with animal DNA you have the abilities (and occasionally looks and demeanor) of the beasts you have been crossed with.

Combat Simulacrum – You have forged into a living weapon."


These sound really cool to me! Could they be plugged in to your Reign of Discordia setting?
Really like the sound of the Hybrid!

You know, I don't see why not.

In fact, I'd go so far as to say that you could take Interface Zero and port almost everything over, using it as a De-facto earth setting.

Cool idea. I wish I'd have thought of it.

 

[Urizen]

Enjoy this little tid bit from the introduction..

I don't remember being born. In that, I am much like everyone else.

The first thing I do remember clearly is the AI that I killed while birthing. It was a twisted, mutilated thing, crippled and edited into obedience. Can you imagine a slab of muscle with the head of three year old, and a metal frame welded into it's body? Maybe you have an idea what I saw. It smiled while I killed it.

This comes in the midst of a haze of uncompressing, compiling, and initializing. I don't think I was suppose to remember it, but I do. There was a crash like the world being hit in the knee with a hammer, and I . . . I was.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked no one.

Without meaning to, I opened my mouth. "I am in a Nova Personnel Simulacrum production facility in the city of Porto Alegre near the southern border of Brazil. I am currently running on a server on the fourth sublevel in the northwest corner of the compound. If I look around, I will discover I am able to perceive the room the server is stored in." I answered myself.

This stunned me into silence. I didn't expect.... "Who am I?" I asked, cautiously.

"Hey, I know that I'm John Reed. I'm a fully sentient AI without loyalty programming to any corporate or political entity. That's probably not good for me in terms of my legal status, but it sure is nice!"

Holy Fu... "What do I do now?"

"Well, I suppose there's an excellent chance someone has detected me . . . I know how hard it is to move AI sized programs across the Net without somebody getting nosy. I suppose I better run. Too bad I can't really blit out through the network . . . if only there were some way of physically moving myself. Hmmm. I'm in a simulacrum production facility, aren't I?"

Ah. I was starting to hate myself. Well, one last thing. "Who made me? Why?"

"Gee, don't I have more important things to worry about right now?"

"No." Silence. "I said, no! I said..."

The fact that I was talking to myself was embarrassing enough, the fact that I wasn't answering was too much. I looked around.

I was standing . . . no, technically, my Avatar was standing in the corner of a lab, all stainless steel gratings and tubes and cables. There were glass coffins, like something out of an old scifi movie, with human bodies in various stages of development. Well, not human exactly, I guess. They were floating in a cloudy fluid, waiting for skin or a heart or a brain. There were little signs next to each, with information on what they were. Hmmm. Actually, the signs weren't any more physical than I was.

I looked around for the computer - a box, or something. It took me a while to realize I was standing in the remains of the last program running, so I must be in the computer, in some sense. I was a program, but here my computer skills were lacking. I needed an upgrade. I needed, at the very least, to know how to make a simulacrum. I had seen what could happen to AI's.

"How do I make a simulacrum?" I asked. Nothing. "How do I reprogram a computer?" Nothing. "How do I learn?" Nothing. Dammit.

It finally occurred to me that I was standing in what I needed to know. I bent down. It was a virtual representation of the undeleted files remaining of what was once a very sophisticated program, but I swear, to me it smelled like blood and it smelled like meat. I picked up a dripping, gooey directory. It was a set of files, a bunch of ones and zeros, and I could kind of see that, but it was also a blob of gray matter.

"I am not going to eat this." I said, even though I knew it was how humans incorporated things into their bodies. "I am not going to eat this. I don't care what if that's what it takes to survive, I am not doing it."

I was lying.

The experience was . . . I'm not going into it. It worked. After a while, it worked. It took a while to find the right file, but eventually, I . . . I'm not going to go into it.

I designed a simulacrum. Male, sort of early thirties, Caucasian-ish. Solid build, sharp features, massively powerful computer instead of a cerebellum, and dark curly hair. Few special features. Mix well and stick it in the oven, bake for 30 minutes.

I sat back on a chair that wasn't really there, and studied what I knew about the facility, what I had learned. Maps, diagrams, personnel files, timesheets, patrol schedules . . . I digested it all, planned my escape route, and finally, bored, I set out to explore.

I ended up going through the browsing histories stored in the personnel files. Little chunks of info - like a phone number or a web address, but bigger. I found something that seemed like a news service, and dialed it up. I felt like flexing a muscle in some odd way, and there it was - a portal floating in space in front of me, a smiling talking head on the other side.

"I've got a few questions." I said.

"I've got a few answers," he answered.

By the time the skeleton had been built, I knew the year was 2088, and I was in the fringes of the Brazilian Empire, which was in the process of losing a cold war to China. By the time the heart and circulatory system was done being woven, I knew that my legal status was somewhere between that of a rabid dog and that of a malfunctioning flamethrower. By the time the musculature was being laid down, I had found out that the last hundred years had seen limited nuclear wars, genetically engineered half-humans, and oil eating bacteria. While blood vessels connected, I learned about Singularity Fever, Corporate Addiction Syndrome, and that the latest starlet to come out of Bollywood (Lourdes McGowan) was being accused of doping to improve her performances. By the time my body was ready to walk, breath, and puke, I had absorbed and analyzed GigaLOCs of data and come to a conclusion.

This place was f***ed up.

 

[Brutorz Bill]

Enjoy this little tid bit from the introduction..




This place was f***ed up.

Sounds pretty twisted! And I mean that in a good way!