Looks like either the money-grubbers at Disney pulled the license for the Marvel Heroic Roleplaying game from Margaret Weis Productions without warning, or MWP couldn’t make the reup on the license work out since they couldn’t move enough product (I’m guessing it was a combination — they couldn’t pay for a more expensive license and Disney just pulled the license, complete with a cease and desist for selling product they were authorized to sell, although now you have until April 30 to snag all the material at Drive Thru RPG.) MWP is trying to make amends by crediting pre-orders 150% the cost of the books they aren’t going to be getting; I think that’s a stand up move.

It’s a sad day as, while I’ve not been a fan of the Cortex Plus direction the company took, Marvel was a superb game the mechanics of which really captured the flavor of a comic like none of the other, in my opinion. On the up side, MWP has an upcoming Firefly RPG. Let’s hope they can keep the license.

Here’s an idea that I used for a one-shot recently. It is, essentially, the movie Deep Rising tweaked for the Firefly universe. (It’s what I call a terrible-but-fun movie; have a look.)

The players are one of two groups — either the ship crew of a smallish freighter like White Lightning from the supplement Six-Shooters & Spaceships, or a group of mercenaries that have been hired to rob then destroy a fancy new passenger liner. If they are the freighter crew, they don’t know the actual score — they’ve been hired on a “if the cash is there, we do not care” basis, simply running the gun bunnies to point X in the Black and back. The mercs know the full score but are leaving the transpo guys in the dark for OPSEC.

The crew is hired one of the border moons or planets — whatever is easiest for your campaign. For a one-shot, you could have the action start on Persephone with Badger fronting the deal, or on Beaumonde with Mingo and Fanty. They’ve got a hard run out to a location in space that is a bit off the shipping lanes, but still reasonable. If they snoop about the cargo, they’ll find the gear the mercs brought with them includes 4 200 lb. (d6W) anti-ship (spacecraft scale) missiles with a launcher rig that can be mag-locked to the hull. What do they need with artillery?

A few minutes out from being able to find the liner, they should encounter some kind of debris — a lifeboat or shuttle — that they’ll hit before they eventually find the liner. Or if they have the usual cheap boat with bad maintenance, just hit them with some kind of failure. For whatever reason, they need safe harbor on the liner and won’t be able to run for it right off.

For the liner,  you could use El Dorado from the core rules or the passenger liner from SS&S; the bigger, the better — adrift and apparently on emergency power. The mercenaries knew this would be the case — they have an inside man (the owner of the thing) aboard who sabotaged her. The plan was simple: the ship suffers a catastrophic failure and after the passengers are offloaded, the valuables are pilfered, the ship destroyed, and the massive insurance claim filed. (The ship is so expensive, they’re running at a loss, even with a full-manifest.)

When they go aboard, however, there’s no one to be found. There’s indications of a hell of a fight — blood, bullet holes, but no bodies. They have to hit the vault, the engineering section’s machine shop to get what they need to fix their ship. Split ’em up. Lose a few NPCs who can disappear with some blood-curdling scream on radio. Eventually, they’ll have to find the bodies of the crew and passengers (maybe some still alive to make it more terrible) in a hold. There’s also something else, something worse — REAVERS!

There should be a lot of them, and it should turn into a run & gun, cat & mouse game to get back to their ship and get the hell out of there. Once they are off the liner, they’ll have to run for it, because the reaver ship that dropped the boarding party is coming back.

Tweak as you need to make it work for your game — change the scale of the opposition or the liner to suit your purposes — but it should be a good horror/action adventure for you to run.

Voting is open over on Stuffer Shack for the 2013 RPG site of the year. So, if you’ve enjoyed the site, gotten good use out of the game-specific materials, or just wants to be a mensch…go over and vote for us!

Stuffer Shack is doing their 2013 RPG Site of the Year contest and The Black Campbell is in the running. Voting for the site is on Wednesday, so  for all you folks that follow the blog and like the material, give us a vote! Tell your friends! Annoy their friends!

 

There are a few game systems that do a nice job of handling large scale battles, and the participation of characters in them, but not all RPGs — particularly those that focus more on character and story — deal with the different scales of a Star Wars or Battlestar Galactica-style capital ships, fighters, people running around shooting stuff all at the same time kind of action, especially when you have characters operating at all of these levels.

We’ll use the latest Battlestar Galactica session I ran last week as an example (with some augmentation here and there to illustrate some points…) We have finally reached the events of the miniseries in our campaign, and the characters have replaced those of the show for this iteration of the story (search this site for “after action report” and you should be able to find postings that will explain more on this.) Last night was the breakout from Ragnar Anchorage, which meant going toe-to-toe with the Cylons. As in the series, Galactica — this time with the aid of other surviving military units — have to scatter the Cylons and hold the line over the anchorage while the civilian vessels jump to safety. This means coordinated capital ship action (one of the PC, Commander Pindarus, running that), Viper on Raider action with PCs flying the vipers, and we would have had another character aiding in damage control in the fight, had they attended that evening.

Battles in BSG, Star Wars, and Star Trek often take hours, not minutes, or the seconds of personal combat in many games. To capture the difference in scales, I suggest that at the start of combat, the capital level stuff goes first — battlestar and basestar exchange their initial salvos, and any character involved in gunnery or command of the vessel, or electronic warfare gets to take their actions for the round. Next goes the fighter/vehicle-level action, then the personal-level stuff. Now to show longer time frames of battles for such a fight, I typically allow the personal and vehicle scale players to have another two or three rounds to show the speed with which their combat or actions take before returning to the capital-level attacks. (In the case of the damage control stuff, I would most likely call these extended tests and have them roll at the same time as the capital level actions.)

Here Galactica launched her fighters, set up her flak barrier with the point defense, but before she could start wailing on the nearest basestar, they were hit by a missile salvo from the same. (They lost initiative.) Galactica returned fire relatively ineffectually for the first round. Next, the CAG rolled for the fighter groups. Here I was assuming his pilot and initiative counted for the vipers vs. the Cylons. They won, he rolled brilliantly for the first round of engagement and they splash a bunch of toasters and only lose one guy. The other pilot character got to duke it out one on one with a raider — she’s a pilot, it’s her schtick — always let your players get a chance to strut their character’s stuff, if you can help it.  The viper squadrons rolled again, this time only a few toasters go down and no vipers. A third go-round for pilots and blasting Cylons.

Galactica got initiative on the next round and did well, pasting the basestar hard. However the viper squadronds do almost nothing and the Cylons damage 12 of the vipers in the round. They break through and start a run toward the EW raptors, to try and clear the jamming the Colonials are using to keep the missiles from damaging the battlestar and civilian ships. The next two rounds are viper squadrons and pilot characters dogfighting with raiders.

The next capital round, the Cylons are done playing. Galactica gets a radiological alarm and the Cylons fire a nuke. The EW raptors jam it and keep the ship safe. Finally the civilian ships are all out. The next two rounds are the pilots attempting their combat landings before the ship jumps to safety.

Now originally, I had planned for a Cylon agent to have been activated in Galactica during the breakout and there to have been a fight between a marine PC and the bad guy that would have been resolved like a normal fight at the same time as the viper combat — three rounds of action to every one for Galactica and other capital ships. It would have happened in the CIC and anything that distracted the command staff, or injured them, etc. would have had an effect on the way Galactica was fighting during her rounds.

You can experiment with the time between capital ship rounds, but I find three is enough to allow for fast paced action for the characters in teh thick of things, but not so long that the commander and/or other characters involved in shiphandling get bored.

Here’s the complete closing credits theme from F/X’s Archer:

Neil Blomkamp’s back…and I’m in!

Good drama, hence good gaming, relies on interpersonal conflict — the interplay between differing goals and ideals makes for a great session. Unfortunately, this can sometimes lead to player conflict when those at the gaming table lose sight of the difference between themselves and their role in the game. This happened when I was a young gamer; the characters in the game came to an impasse and as their argument superheated, it turned into anger at the other player. Once we realized what was happening, we were able to distance ourselves from the characters and sort the matter.

Other times, existing animosity spills into the game, with players acting to spite or antagonize the other. This can make for good gaming, but likely than not, it slams the breaks on the action and creates friction that can ruin a session or break the back of a gaming group. Sometimes, a player is angry or upset over something completely disconnected from play, but the game becomes a surrogate for taking out their aggression on the actual problem. We saw this with a player whose brother and sister-in-law were going through a divorce. He took the break-up hard and his characters suddenly took a disturbing misogynist turn, which brought them into conflict with other characters, and vicariously, female players in the group. The approach here was direct: she told him to knock it off.

So how do you fix interpersonal conflict between players? There are as many routes to conflict resolution as there are people, and every situation can require a different approach. Sometimes it’s as simple as calling their attention to the matter. If you are lucky, you have adults at the game table and you can reason with them. Pull them aside (I prefer one at a time) and have a quick chat. Ask them what’s up, that their actions are being disruptive or suggest that maybe the offending players get together and work out their issue (whatever it might be.) See if there’s something you can do to aid in resolving the matter while at the table (Don’t get in the middle of their issues — they won’t thank you for it and now you are part of the problem.) Sometimes, however, a strong “grow the fuck up!” works.

If other players are complaining about the situation (and they rarely do it while the offenders are present, I find), you could take a session to have everyone talk it out. (A bit soft and huggy-squeezy for me…) Sometimes it’s as simple as letting them know they’re being a jerk — the goof ol’ yellow card/red card can work here. You are already refereeing the game, it’s not much of a stretch to extend that role to the players, as well. They start being a dick, you give ’em a yellow card; they’re being truly offensive, red card and maybe some time away from the table to gather themselves together.

The most extreme cases require the same response, and it’s one that a lot of GMs are loathe to use because finding good gamers can be hard: kick them out of the group. Simply put, if you have people that spoil the fun for the rest, you’re better off excising the offenders. “But their characters is integral to the group/plot/whatever…” Not enough so to risk the whole group blowing apart. Turn their characters into NPCs, let them know they are welcome back when they can comport themselves like adults. (Which is ironic, when you consider you are pretending, like when you were a kid…)

Ultimately, dealing with people and conflict is a delicate art, and you will have to feel out the situation for yourself. Just know it’s okay to sometimes use the cudgel, rather than the carrot.

[This post was inspired by and is a response to a similar post on Runesligner’s blog, Casting ShadowsGo check it out. Scott]

This is one of those game session reviews that might help — as with the last part — to show how you can take an established universe, a licensed product like Battlestar Galactica  or Star Trek, and make it your own while retaining elements of the original material. Last week saw part two of our version of the miniseries. (Recap of the first part.) Many of the same elements as the show were there, but with the necessary differences to make the game setting our own:

The ship made it to Ragnar Anchorage, but before going in to dock, they made contact through a series of repeater buoys to the crew of the station. (There’s a lot of important materiel in the eye of a storm on a gas giant…they’re going to have a maintenance and control staff.) They have to convince the XO of the station that they have clearance and a need to take materiel from the station, but finally get permission to dock.

The new president, former interim defense minister (and Commander Pindarus’ father), pulls together the rump government he has — Education Minister Laura Roslin, a quorum member from Picon, a Peoples’ Assemblywoman, Aaron Doral — the Deputy Director for Public Education that was in charge of turning Galactica into a museum, and the Colonial Budget Officer chairman (a new PC named Malcolm Jones) together, along with Commander Pindarus to decide what they do next. They need intelligence, and as Roslin points out, there’s a lot of shipping caught in the crossfire that need led to safety. There was a long bit of haggling over what to do, with the commander, quorum member, and Doral favoring finding the remaining elements of the Fleet and conducting a counterassault. They’re on the ropes and they’ll never be stronger. Roslin and the assemblywoman favor running with the civilian ships. But if they can “save” even one Colony world, they are in a better position to rebuild than if they run and have to start from scratch; the commander points out that technology backslide would probably take them another 2000 years to get back to where they are now.

The president decides to send raptors and shuttles to find ships, but more to collect intelligence on the progress of the battle. (At this point, they think they’ve lost maybe 80% of the fleet, max. — so 24-25 ships left.) While all this is going on, they dock with Ragnar, and the XO goes in with PC, SGT Cadmus, and a bunch of work gangs to load up the ship on munitions, medical supplies, food, and anything else not nailed down. The XO of the station is a sickly man named COL Conoy. He’s dodgy and takes the XO off to do the paperwork for the supplies — there could be more units coming and he wants to know what they take so he can supply others — but it’s a ruse. The man tries to kill the XO, but is stopped by the sergeant. They injure him badly but don’t kill him. While the PC wanted to, the XO says to the effect, “how we treat our prisoners is a reflection on us…and they need intelligence.”

Conoy (a humanoid Cylon like his counterpart int he series) came aboard yesterday as a crew replacement. He was able to frag the CIC of the station with an anti-personnel mine and secure most of the crew in a section of the station and vent the air. We left that subplot for the night with the SAR crews re-pressurizing the section and hoping to find survivors.

Meanwhile, the battlestar Minerva jumps in over Ragnar. They find out the Cylons have lost about 50% of their assault force after the older ships got in the fight, and the newer ones that figure out the CNP was the culprit for their technical troubles restarted their computers and physically cut their networks. But they’re still outnumbered, and intelligence shows they have much fewer ships than they thought. Most of the unaccounted for vessels are part of the expeditionary forces — they could be anywhere. Minerva and her escort Cygnus are in bad shape; the Cylons keep finding them, and quickly — even when they jump. The crew realizes they are being tracked and suspect that the ships are tagged some way. They figure out the Cylons must be tapping either navigation or DRADIS and find a device on the bottom of the DRADIS console they thought was part of the museum network.

Realizing they are weaker than they thought, the idea of running is the stronger argument…but run where? Another thing they considered: there are almost certainly Cylon agents in the fleet, and seeing the condition of Conoy, the commander realizes if they can stay in the storm at Ragnar long enough, they’ll be able to suss out who the bad guys are. But how long do they have to wait? We left it there for the night.

So the basic narrative of the miniseries and the show is mostly intact: the Cylons have attacked, the apocalypse is upon the characters, and they have to decide if they stay and fight, or run for it. Not being constrained to a four hour miniseries, we were able to explore a few issues in more depth: the arguments over stay or go were much more heated and for a while there they were looking at some variant of “find a safe spot for the civilians, then go secure the space over Aerilon [the planet with the least damage] and hold the line.” The characters are more affected by their losses, with the pair of pilot PCs being nearly unable to function. The commander is angry and wants to hit the Cylons hard, but he’s being rational…they can only do so much. Their knowledge of the human Cylons and the effects of Ragnar have them using the setting in a manner that the characters in the show did not and could lead to a fleet that is less likely to have Cylons in their midst. This gives the characters hope that they might be able to ignore that element of the show.

More realistically, there are surviving military units in disarray, but still fighting. However, the fog of war is keeping the PCs from knowing the whole story, or they have to act on incomplete or faulty intelligence. They know how many ships they have, but not the number of survivors: it could be 20,000, it could be 60,000. Keeping the characters in the dark makes their jobs harder, but also amps up the central emotional queues of this particular setting: uncertainty, paranoia, and fear.

…and not the usual “ouch, I fell down and hope the armor keeps me from breaking something” armor, Colombian clothier Miguel Caballero has a new line of ballistic and crash protection for motorcyclists…

Miguel-Caballero-RoadPower

This armor provides -4DC and soaks -1WL of damage (-2WL for impact involving a motorcycle crash.) It is heavy — the jacket, pants, and a good helmet mean about 25-30 lbs. of weight being carried. The gear looks like normal motorcycle wear, if a bit bulkier, and is CON -3 to be spotted by opponents. Cost: $5000