Prospect is the unusual coming-of-age story of a teenage girl on a toxic alien planet. She and her father hunt for precious materials aiming to strike it rich. When the father is attacked by a roving bandit, the daughter must take control. The project was funded on Kickstarter last year, earning $21,000 to complete the film. Prospect is co-directed by Zeek Earl & Chris Caldwell, from a script written by Chris Caldwell. The cast includes Callie Harlow & Tony Doupe. With cinematography by Zeek Earl, and original music by Daniel L.K. Caldwell.

This time Amazon is saying June 8, instead of April 14. This game has more delays than Obamacare.

I think I’m going to cancel my order and when/if this actually sees release, I’ll buy it. In the meantime, I’m waiting for my physical copy of Mindjammer to come in. At 500 pages, it’s a bit of a monster to go through for character and campaign planning.

We were finally closing our “season finale” of the Battlestar Galactica game last night. The session before had seen two character deaths, and one nearly done for. And that was the first act… Last night saw three major plot moves, the most important being the culmination of the Lucky character’s plot arc, the next most the settling of Admiral Cain and Pegasus into the fleet.

The second act revolved almost exclusively around the defense council — led by President Pindarus (the father of Galactica‘s commander, a PC), player character VP Jones, the defense minister, and the security minister (another PC) — interviewing Cain about her actions since the Fall of the Colonies. There was a hard push for her having tried to execute her XO for refusing and attempting countermand her attack (this time on a Tauron shipyard the Cylons were using — a prime target, but a highly dangerous one), another for her stripping the Scylla and civilian ships for parts. They are not aware, yet, of the condition of the Six in the brig.

In the end, despite serious reservations, and her seeming unwillingness to submit to a change in operation command from her to Galactica, the characters decided having Cain and Pegasus‘ firepower was more important than pursuing her missteps while she was — to her knowledge — the only Colonial ship, and the entirety of the human race, left in the universe. She was on a mission of revenge — they convince her the missions has changed; she is now the guardian of mankind. The character in the game (and the show, I submit) is a creature of duty…having the civilian fleet and tens of thousands of people has given her new perspective. Much like the post-resurrection ship attack in the show, the admiral is getting time to breathe and reassess her situation.

As the admiral and the commander character were returning to their ships, the Cylons jump in right on top of the fleet — well within the defense perimeter, and the shooting starts. Two Cylon basestars jump in and are escorted by a massive, glowing, crystalline vessel — the Blaze that has been repeatedly seen in Lucky’s visions. He knows that this is the moment of truth — when the “two and ten vipers” have to ride into the flame (the Blaze.)

The next act was all battle. We used an even more stripped down very of the fleet combat rules in the BSG page here on the site. For each capital ship action, there would be two squadron level actions, and two personal fighter or raptor actions. The Cylons jump in and hammer the civilian and warships. Cloud 9 — which houses the government in our game (why stay on a small liner when you can have conference rooms and spacious cabins, and the best food still in the fleet?) — took a good hit, Pegasus got banged up, and they almost lost their wee escort vessel, Cygnus. One liner would eventually be destroyed.

The squadron combat was handled simply — both sides got to roll their alertness or intelligence, and their tactics skill, plus any assets applicable. The number rolled was the number of enemy fighters or raptors destroyed over a one-to-two minute period. The side with more numbers got a die step on the skills. This time around, I had the Cylons running with higher pilot and tactics skills to represent the experience the killed raiders had passed on to the Cylons. It was brutal — 40 vipers and 10 raptors lost over the course of the battle, and similar numbers for the Cylons.

In the end, Lucky and the squadron of rookies take a run at the Blaze, with their vipers attacked by strange ‘shard-like” glowing fighters or missiles that, on impact, simply disappeared their target. (We didn’t go into it, but they were destructively uploaded to the Blaze’s memory.) Lucky is the only one, thanks to liberal plot point use, to ram the Blaze. Having been prepared as an instrument of “God”, he is able to remain conscious of himself, even as he is incorporated into the Blaze. There was a virtual reality journey through Hades to the citadel of the Blaze, Dis, guided by the young girl/angel that had been helping him prepare. Finally, there was a battle of wills to destroy the Blaze, and Lucky wakes in an infirmary — his memory hazy, more like a dream, to find he is Colonel Aurelius, formerly of the battlestar Pleiades. The implication from the uniform flashes, etc. is that he is now resurrected 7000-8000 years in the past as the man who wrote the Aurelian Prophesies they used to guide them in the game ’til now. (It was also fan service for the gamer who was in the last iteration of the game…where the ship was Pleiades and Aurelius was the oracle.)

As for the “current” portion of the campaign, as Lucky hit the Blaze, there was a brilliant flash and the ship of lights was gone. The Cylons, stunned by their god abandoning them, fled and jumped away.

The goal was to keep the mystical elements of the show, but leave “god” more undefined and open to interpretation, but also to set up the idea that the Cycle of Time has seen a steady collapse of “gods” from once-near-omnipotent machine intelligences, through the Lords of Kobol, to Man and the Cylons. Like the Greek myth it’s stealing from, each “age” sees the heroes and gods as less — more flawed — than those who came before. It also allowed for us to have a heroic goodbye to a main character who has been in the campaign, but played by two players, before the current player leaves for San Francisco. (Selfish bugger!)

The final act saw the fallout of the battle and the shake up of the command structure the government demanded. The players mourned the loss of the popular Lucky, started putting the fleet back together with officers moved around, promoted or demoted. The president punished Cain tangentially by demoting her pet CPT Shaw, and her XO, Fisk for the Scylla incident (they opened fire on civilians, after all.) Other characters were moved to Pegasus to “keep an eye on” the admiral and to help her integrate into the fleet.

Overall, it was an exceptional game night. We ended, instead of the usual 9:30-10pm, at 11pm and none of us had noticed the time. Afterward, several of the players were obviously thrilled with the way the “episode” had gone and how the story is unfolding.

The last two sessions of our game have been particularly brutal for the players’ characters — in two session, we’ve lost three PCs, almost lost another, and scads of popular NPCs, to boot. Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of players lose characters, either to bad rolls, bad decisions, a hostile GM, etc. Their reactions have varied from one player that claimed he was haunted by his character in a dream (the character [read, player] thought his death heroic, but he had actually done something incredibly stupid) and was upset that he wasn’t getting respect; to players who were overjoyed that their character went down doing something incredibly heroic, and just about every variant between. No matter the event, losing a character that you’ve invested a lot of time and effort on breathing life into, that you have used to vicariously experience danger, adventure, and heroism, can be a traumatic experience.

There are a few key points for players and gamemasters to keep in mind at point. First the players:

1) It’s only a game. It’s fantasy. It might not feel that way; good role playing can make the characters seem as real (and sometimes more so) that actual people in your life. But they’re not. And like all good things, they will eventually pass, as well, if the game goes long enough.

2) It’s not personal. Sometimes the dice screw you. (As infamously cried by a player in one campaign, who dropped to his knees in a moment of frustration and bellowed, “My dice are fucking me!”) Sometimes no amount of tweaking and hand waving by the GM is going to save you — as in the six, count ’em, six botches a player rolled trying to get control of his fighter in the middle of a massive battle, only to punch out and get humped on that last test, as well. Sometimes…it’s your time.

The same goes for when you make a bad tactical error in the game. Maybe you shouldn’t have read from the Book of the Dead. Maybe aggressing that company of Martian warriors armed with harsh words and stick wasn’t the epitome of strategic brilliance. Maybe taking that turn at high speeds on that twisty road by Lake Como in the spy agency’s Aston Martin was ill-advised. (That’s how they killed two DBS sedans while driving them to the shoot for the initial chase sequence in Quantum of Solace. Not while filming it. While commuting.) Sometimes…it’s your time.

 

2b) It’s not personal…except when it is: Yes — there are the old school DMs that take an adversarial pose in relation to the players and their characters, but that’s less common today. Your GM is (probably) not gleefully killing characters for his own enjoyment, then ritually burning your character sheet or keeping it as a trophy in his death room like some serial killer. Unless he is. Then it’s either time to find another person to play with, or it might be insanely cool in a freaky sort of way. YMMV. And on that note –A GM obviously looking to off your character might indicate an out of game issue that needs to be brought up and resolved.

Just don’t do it in his character death room.

3) If you are so torn up over a character’s death or incapacitation, or their failure, or their losing a loved one… you should reconsider your hobbies, at least for a little while.

As to the game master side of the equation:

1) If you are looking to off your player’s characters as a punishment for not showing up (more on this in a moment), or because you had an argument over whatever, or you’re just a malicious jerk like the lead character from Zero Charisma — see point 3 for the players. You’re not creating high drama; you’re being a jerk.

2) Try not to kill players’ characters when they are not there that night. a) It makes you seem like a jerk, b) the player is likely to see it as “punishment” for not attending, c) especially if they’ve been playing the character for a while, it makes the player feel they’ve been stripped of their agency. “I wouldn’t have done X” is a common refrain here.

This is one that I try to hew to, but inevitably, there’s going to be that “big fight” night that one of the players — usually one that’s going to be in the thick of things — doesn’t show up. At this point, I try to use GM fiat to avoid putting them in the crosshairs, but sometimes that just doesn’t work. I think we’ve only had it happen thrice in the last two decades that someone’s character was topped while they weren’t there. (Last week being the second time.)

3) Try and give the player some kind of “moment” in exchange for the loss — maybe the hero got blasted by that narco hit squad, but remember that grenade..? Good thing he had it to do a last action and save his team mates, huh? Or as their starfighter is coming apart around them, they set the nose toward the bad guy’s ship and do a bit of damage (or destroy it, if they roll well enough…) Or in the case one of the characters the other week, he last action before dying was to unlock his phone so the others could gain access to his notes on the bad guys. Or even just a nice dramatic death — something cool to go out on. (Think Tom Hanks’ shooting his .45 futilely at the German tank in Saving Private Ryan…useless, but damned cool.) I remember an early D&D campaign where my fighter had died, back to a tree, surrounded by bad guys — but he had provided a distraction for the rest of the team to achieve the victory over the Big Bad. This sort of thing gives the player something to hang their memories of the character on.

Characters’ deaths can be a hard moment in a gamer’s life, but it can also be a heroic memory to frame the character and campaign. Even useless deaths, in the right kind of game, can provide the proper tenor for campaign — “I can’t believe he’s gone…it was so useless!” is a very appropriate thing for a Call of Chthulu game, for instance, but sucks for a Hollow Earth  or other pulp style game. And while the character might be gone, there’s no reason you can’t reskin him or her with a slightly modified personality or stats — there are plenty of gamers who play the same thing (kinda like Harrison Ford or Paul Rudd…if the formula’s working, no need to change it.) There are gamers who like new and interesting challenges — character death gives you the opportunity to try something new.

In the end, it’s just a game.

The pace ticked up dramatically over the last couple of sessions, and tonight was no different. The “season finale” episode titled The Blaze saw a pair of players’ marshals investigating the attempted murder of the CAG character, who has been receiving divine visions throughout the campaign, and finally understands that he is an instrument of God and is supposed to destroy “the Blaze” — the angry god that started the war between the Lords of Kobol and the exodus of the 12 Tribes to the Colonies. He discovers that God is a rather impersonal creature, but that the endless Cycle of the story the Blaze has been telling — its attempt to become God after “staring to long into Its Face” — has destroyed Man, the Lords, and other civilizations for millennia. He is at peace, knowing that his time is coming and that he can finally break this endless cycle of violence.

The marshals investigate the Cylon “priest” and his cult members and through their investigations realize that his movements connect with another series of investigations (more of a group of conspiracy theories) one of them has been tracking to a private yacht of a former building industrialist. They mount up and head for the yacht in the company of the marines, led by LT Thorne, send by Pegasus to “help” them.

On arrival, the one marshal’s sixth sense is going haywire. They discover the industrialist is a Cylon puppet, and that the ship is some kind of biomechanical horrorshow that is used to create puppets for the Cylons to use in the fleet. There was a spate of combat that left all the marines dead, one of the player characters on death’s doorstep. During the fight, they made an unfortunate decision: trying to save the injured character, they had the raptor copilot take him off to the medical ship while calling for reinforcements. This left them with no way off the ship. Their discovery had triggered the ship to set itself for self-destruct. By the time they had figured this out, the other marshal had been shot critically. They accounted for two Cylons and the industrialist puppet along the way.

The ships around the yacht picked up the energy surge and had to move off, leaving the two characters left to try a desperate move of venting themselves and hoping for the SAR raptor’s crew to catch them. In the catch, the marshal lost his grip and would die in space. The pilot character lost his grip when the yacht exploded and hit the raptor with debris. He also died.

This was just the first act…we’re not even to the good stuff, yet. Two different players lost a character, and another has one down for at least 2-3 weeks of game time. The loss of Thorne before the Boomer interrogation removes one of the hot button plot elements that led to trouble in the show and might lead to a more civil relationship between ADM Cain and the fleet.

I’ve already talked abouthow a gamemaster can try to “sell” his group on a new campaign, and how players can attempt to aid the success of a new game by how they design their characters. However, not all (or most) campaigns will come out of the gate running on all cylinders, with everyone happy about things are progressing — this is okay; it’s normal. So how do you work around the birthing pains of a new campaign? I like to use movie and television as a framework for this sort of thing, as readers of this site know by now…

The first adventure is a pilot. This is the ultimate sell on the game, much like it is on a television show. You’ve sold the premise to the network (your players, in this case), and now you have to sell it to the audience (in this case…the same people.)  Pilots, let’s be fair, often suck — especially when dealing with large plot arcs. Your best bet is to start small: the pilot is your chance to show off the world you’re playing in, and introduce the characters, and much like a TV pilot these may need some tweaking.

First, maybe the GM had an idea for a galaxy-spanning political space opera for a game (you can tell I’ve been reading through Mindjammer, can’t ya?) and it becomes apparent that your initial set up tended toward a more focused campaign dealing with the corruption of the characters’ home planet or organization…you can still do the former, but turning your attention toward what grabbed the players might require you to do a bit more development of a world or organization than you planned on. Or you were planning on playing in an established universe like Firefly, but the players are more interested in the cyberpunkish core world you presented, rather than playing at space cowboys on the Rim…retool and focus on life in the Alliance, and slowly introduce the down-on-their-heels worlds as a counterpoint.

Second, maybe your Big Bad isn’t that inspiring, or the players disappoint you by blowing the villain that was supposed to be a recurring character into his component DNA… Who was his boss? Create a more compelling bad guy. Don’t be afraid to steal your favorite baddies from movie, Tv, or books and reskin them for your game. (I’ve always been a fan of using Hilly Blue from Trouble in Mind — the character just clicked for me.)

But the big element, third: Characters often change between a pilot and a full launch of a show. That’s because their concept might not have been fully realized, or the character’s stats didn’t quite play out properly, or some aspect of the character just wasn’t clicking. For the first adventure (for us usually two or three sessions), the players are allowed to retool their character stats, etc. to match how they are playing the character. (Here’s a post on “fixing” a campaign that ties into this pilot model for a game start…)

 

This week’s game saw the pressure and speed of the plot continue to ratchet up. Coming off of the cliffhanger in which the CAG/oracle character (a PC) found himself toe-to-toe with a Cylon masquerading as an Eleusinian priest named Iblis (a little 1970s fan service!) and lost the fight pretty handily, I had to scramble for a realistic deux ex machina to save his ass — a much less offensive move in a universe where there is actual divine intervention happening.

I kept the player hanging for the first 15 minutes by starting with an “earlier that day…” and followed the early morning activities of one of the Colonial Marshals — a player character — who is collared by the aide to the security minister. The aide — a Cylon who has “gone native” — has been tracking the movements of people in the fleet, trying to find the unidentified Cylons in the fleet in an attempt to keep himself safe and continue to hold his rarified position in the government. He spins a story about Iblis taking too much of an interest in Lucky (the CAG/oracle.) Iblis had placed a call to Galactica requesting a meeting to talk about some of the visions Lucky has been having and the aide suspects this might be a ruse; Cylon activities have targeted important scientists, investigators, and now with a confirmed oracle in the fleet…he’d be a prime target.

This leads to the showdown between the marshal and aide versus Iblis, but not before Lucky (the oracle) witnesses Iblis try to murder his 19 year old chaplain’s assistant. In the middle of choking her, the young girl bursts into a brightly-glowing, winged vision that blinds the Cylon temporarily and which berates Iblis — stating that the events in motion cannot be stopped. Lucky has a destiny — to destry the Blaze, the Cylon “god.” Iblis drops her and she falls to the ground unconscious, the angelic vision gone. At this point there’s a bit of skirmishing, and the arrival of the Marshal and aide leads to Iblis being shot by the aide, who gives the credit to the marshal.

The incident is reported to the military and Admiral Cain dispatches marines to investigate, leading to a verbal showdown between the admiral and the security minister (also a PC) who manages to convince her to work with the civilian law enforcement, and points out that there is a functioning and legitimate civilian government to which her oath of office still applies. Due to good player character moves and rolls, Cain — while still a new, belligerent, and ambitious force in the fleet — is more quickly being brought to heel than she was in the show. Partly, this is because of established connections between Galactica‘s commander (a PC) who served under her when she was a commander, and knew her socially; and the president, who was a military man, a defense minister, and is a person she has respect for (unlike Roslin in the show.) Cain has a history with these folks and I figured this would give her a quicker sense of duty to them.

Another change made was the character of LT Thorne, the rapist interrogator from the show. He’s still a jerk, still committed the offenses against the Six they have, but he is portrayed by the crew of Pegasus in the show as this heroic figure who’s save lives and earn respect of the men — this doesn’t jive with what we saw onscreen. So i made Thorne less a monster, and more a man who views the Cylons as machines and his duty to his crew as paramount. He’s a jerk, but is quickly won over by Lucky during his interrogation, who realizes the man is scared, hurting from loss, and unmoored from his morality — much like many of the survivors. While a confrontation over the interrogation practices in Pegasus are most likely in the offing, there is the chance that this may play out differently due to the connections the characters are making emotionally with Cain and Thorne.

The marshal, meanwhile, is tracking down the personal effects of Iblis and planning on questioning his followers. These leads will be directing them to another threat in the fleet.

Introducing Cain early was not originally in my plan, but the nature of our Kobol — apparently inhabited, modern, and well-defended by the Cylons; watched over by some kind of supranatural ship or creature (the Blaze) — and the introduction of the resurrection ships led me to believe this was a good time to amp up the pressure with a new set of issues, but it also gives the fleet more firepower for a confrontation. The introduction of more supernatural aspects — angels (?), a ship or creature that is the Cylon god — make the Kobol mission more of a real showdown between the fleet and the Cylons than it was in the show. Additionally, according to some of the players, the constant revelations surrounding the history of the fight between the Blaze and the Lords of Kobol, and the possibility that this “story” has been told over and over again, has added more of a sense of exploration and discovery than we saw in the show.

This past week, I introduced a bunch of new plot elements to the players. The “B story” about the CAG (a PC) who is also an oracle and has been found out for his abilities while engaging in initiation rituals with an Eleusinian-like mystery cult culminated with the revelation that their priest, Iblis (a tip of the hat to the old show), is in fact a Cylon. Iblis realizes that the CAG is the man destined to destroy the Blaze and seeks to get him alone and kill him. The intent was for a good fight that might lead to the chaacter getting roughed up and a chase to find Iblis by the fleet’s marshals. Instead, Iblis fairly easily incapacitates the character, but they are interrupted by a third party — a young girl from the cult that has been a sort of spiritual guide for the character (he’s even seen her as an angel-like creature in his hallucinations.) She’s no match for Iblis, and even though she distracted the Cylon long enough for the PC to get in a few blows, he’s knocked cold.

Oops. Now what? The obvious end to this is Iblis kills the unconscious character. We cliffhangered on that for the night, but now the question is, “What do I do?” I’ve been too successful with my baddies, and now it threatens the overall plot. I dropped a few emails to the character to ask him what he though: Do we kill him and roll on? Do we kill him off but find some what for him to aid the others in what he was supposed to do? Do we come up with a contrived last-minute deus ex machina savior?

The key, I think, in something like this, where you’ve set up the character as “the One” or some kind of plot-important element is to remember to provide some kind of escape hatch…I didn’t do that. It you get into a situation like the one above, and don’t wish to use GM fiat to ‘cheat” for the character, then I think it’s important to touch base with the player and see what they think should happen. They’ve invested a lot in their characters, and if the dice roll the “wrong way” for the story, you have to improvise. In this case, the player is more interested in aiding the story than saving his character, so we’re trying to figure out what, exactly, would work here.

The new Firefly RPG by Margaret Weis was supposed to drop on February 18, but some last minute approval issues mean we won’t see it until April.