The Mosster Truck

What a fun session we had today! The kids finally got a taste of the action waiting for them in our Savage Worlds Sxibi campaign setting. They started out at Billy Bob Bo's Weaponry Emporium (my 10-year-old named the store) where Ramoka bought a pair of punching daggers, and Lucia bought a used ray gun. Zukey asked for an elven curved blade, and the shopkeeper disappeared behind a curtain. A moment later there was a flash of light, a crackling sound, and the smell of ozone. Then he returned handling an elven curved blade oven mitts, and advised Zukey to be careful because the sword was "hot." Then he effectively robbed her by charging her $200 for the sword (he had asked how much she was willing to pay, and she had replied $200. Sold).

While deciding on the ray gun, my daughter asked me to look up pics of ray guns online so she could decide what she wanted it to look like. She ended up drawing one from her imagination, but we all thought this DIY project looked cool.

After they had paid for their weapons, a delivery man walked in and handed some packages to Billy Bob Bo. Lucia's danger sense warned her that something was wrong, and her hair turned brown. She tried to warn the shopkeeper, but it was too late, the package exploded and purple moss shot in every direction. It stuck to a few of the customers in the store and killed them. That's all the adventurers needed to see, and they left the store lickety-split, passing a befuddled-looking store security robot on the way. Out front, they noticed the delivery man's hover truck had moss growing on its sides. Ramoka's fur stood on end, and they elected to leave the scene...

...and visit a tattoo parlor! We spent about 15 minutes drawing tattoos and searching Google for ideas. Meanwhile, I went to YouTube and found this music (a style called Dubstep), which I told them was playing in the parlor. "Turn it up!" they said, because it really did feel right for the setting, and it was decided that the type of people working and hanging out at the tattoo parlor ("BAE," which stands for "Body Art Explosion") would want it loud. Thus it was that they each spent $50 and about an hour inside getting their ink done, while just outside the doors, the mosspocalypse was getting underway. As they were finishing up, they heard the screams from outside, and sporadic gunfire. Again, hair turned brown and fur stood on end, and they warily approached the door to see what was going on outside.

The first thing they saw was the hover truck, now completely covered in the purple moss, running amok, mowing down pedestrians, and crashing into everything. It was completely dominating the streets, careening around corners and then returning again with a vengeance. They also saw some people covered in moss ambling about. "Zombies! Moss zombies!" exclaimed Lucia. Then she announced her hair was no longer brown: it was now black. "What does black mean?" I asked.

"It means I'm deadly," she replied, drawing her laser pistol and preparing to step outside.

"But you'll hurt the people!" objected Ramoka.

"They're dead! Can't you see? It's too late, the moss got them!"

And so on.

Ramoka and Zukey hatched a plan to obtain weed killer, but they needed to know where to buy it. They consulted Robot (played by my wife), but they accidentally asked her where to find robot killer instead of where to find weed killer. Robot was so frightened by this slip of the tongue that she leaked oil all over the pavement, and refused to use her internet connection to aid them until they apologized and agreed to buy her some Quaker State motor oil. The kids agreed, and Ramoka and Zukey ran off to the pharmacy around the corner to get the weed killer (but not before Ramoka threw a tattoo needle into the face of one of the moss zombies).

Lucia stayed behind to fend off the other zombies. One of them hit her hard, leaving her shaken, but the moss didn't take root on her skin. She recovered quickly and took them out one by one with her pistol. Eventually Ramoka returned alone* with the weed killer, and the two of them went around another corner to follow the sounds of sirens, explosions, and automatic weapons fire they were hearing.

They found four SWAT team commandos with shields taking on the moss-covered hover truck. My youngest played the role of the cops, and since it wasn't her character, she was suddenly all about blowing away baddies. Ramoka charged in with the weed killer, spraying down one corner of the truck and delivering a painful wound that made the truck honk in agony. Lucia toasted it with her ray gun and brought the truck to the brink of destruction, and the commandos finished it off. Their weapons ignited a hydrogen tank which exploded with concussive force, knocking almost everyone over and spraying moss everywhere.

We were getting tired so we wrapped up the session with a conversation with one of the commandos, who said the SWAT team could use some stout folks like the players' characters. Lucia said sure, why not, since they did have a coffee machine at the precinct. Ramoka was open to the idea but not thrilled with the early morning hours. We'll see if Zukey takes the bait. They need jobs, that much is certain.

More to come.

*Note: Ramoka was alone because Zukey decided that discretion was the better part of valor and stayed behind at the pharmacy. Thus continues a trend in our games: the character with the most power - in this case Zukey is a "mentalist" with psionic powers - is always played by my youngest daughter, who feels that most if not all combat should be strictly avoided.

Grocery Shopping!

Nothing says action-packed sci-fi excitement like shopping for groceries at Food-2-Go, but that's exactly what we did today.

We had my three girls and the boy from next door for a session of Savage Worlds. I was pleased that I didn't have to initiate the session or pull them all together; my girls came home from gymnastics and asked right away if we could invite the neighbors over for some RPG. I have a nasty headache going right now, but I was not going to let this opportunity pass. So the boy came over (the girl couldn't make it) and we started playing.

They decided his half-dragon character could stay with them at their apartment in Nipon Gables. That was fun because they had to figure out how much rent he had to give them. Little did they know they were practicing their math skills. Mwuhahahahaha!

Then they went grocery shopping. They found a Food-2-Go just a few blocks from the Gables. The store lets you select foods to take with you, or foods you can have beamed right to your apartment. That would free them to continue on into the city on their shopping spree without their hands full.

At the store, we learned that you can't just go crazy with the stuff you buy when you're on a limited budget. Lucia the goth human wanted all kinds of crazy coffees and junk food, but when I explained some prices to her and the others weren't willing to share the extra price burden with her, she relented. She did get a good deal on some espresso: 10 servings in a package for $2.11.

Shampoo was also something they wanted. It was especially important for Ramoka, who is 7' tall and all fur. There was some disagreement, however, about what kind of shampoo to buy. Ultimately they agreed on a special hi-tech brand of shampoo that consists of nanobots that analyze your DNA to determine your hair needs. They go on to eat the dirt and bacteria in your hair and excrete whatever chemicals are needed to give your hair (or fur) healthy sheen and full body. These are kids, though, so to amuse them I went on to simplify things by saying the nanobots "eat dirt and poop conditioner." Meanwhile the half-dragon, who doesn't have hair, opted for a $4.35 jar of polish for his scales.

They had considered buying a whole week's supply of food, but the bill for all of them came out to $210. That number shocked them a little, then they figured out that it came out to $30 per day for the four of them. They changed their minds and decided to go with three days of food, but then Lucida, played by my 12-year-old, suggested that they just get four days worth of food instead of three to make it an even $30 for each, so they wouldn't need to "do any math." I enjoyed watching her use math to avoid doing math.

They left the store and decided that they want to buy weapons. "For when we find monsters," they said. This is what we call meta-gaming. In real life, if you moved to this city world, the last thing on your mind would be monsters. When you visit Tokyo, do you buy guns just in case monsters show up? Of course not. The same principal applies here, and yet...this is an action adventure game, and they know it. Of course there will be monsters. So as long as they have the money, I suppose I'll let them buy weapons. They're not going to be happy about the waiting period though, or the requirement that they need steady jobs to qualify.

Once outside the store, they needed a map to find a "weapon store" (their phrase). No problemo, just ask Robot (played by my wife). Robot attempted an online search but determined that she did not have access to the public wi-fi. She was able to connect at the space port because that's just a service the port authority provides. Apparently, outside of that zone, the public wi-fi not entirely paid for with taxes, and $45 per month is required for unlimited access. That's not a bad deal considering it gives you coverage anywhere on the planet. Robot thought it was a good deal, but didn't think it was fair that she should be the only one to pay for it. After all, everyone would be benefitting from internet access. Lucida didn't agree and decided that it would be a simple thing to find a map or ask for directions. With a whirring of gears analogous to a "Hmph!" Robot wheeled away to pursue her own private errands. As did my wife in real life.

The remaining adventure seekers stopped a frog-like person dressed in human garb. I described him as similar to a Narnian marsh-wiggle, except that even though he remains upright on his hind legs, he does squat in between hops, which is his primary mode of transport. Luckily he spoke a common language, though his speech was halted because he had to keep inflating vocal sac to talk. He made fun of them for their alleged need to protect against monsters ("Where are...these monsters?" [pointing to little old lady] "Is that one...a monster? ...Ha ha...ribbit."). Lucida's genetically altered hair, which changes color to reflect her mood, flashed a dangerous shade of red, so frog boy relented and recommended they visit All-Mart. He gave them directions and off they went.

They were just arriving when the boy next door had to go home for dinner. We got maybe 45 minutes of play time in. Ugh.

One other note about this session: Lucida kept saying she didn't need to get a job because she's only a teenager. Fourteen years old, to be exact. We'll see how long that lasts. The others don't seem too keen on supporting her.

Introducing the Insurgents

I've been doing some light research on science fiction themes with added focus on technologies that scientists today are already working on the foundations of. One that has really grabbed my attention is this concept of uplift. To quote the Wikipedia article:

In science fiction, uplift is the development or transformation of animals into an intelligent race by other, superior beings.

An example of uplift would be genetically altering chimps so that they are as intelligent as humans. I don't know about you, gentle reader, but I find the possibility of this type of tampering to be unsettling. I'm not going to go so far as to say it's ethically indefensible, but it just feels very wrong to me.

It also opens up all kinds of crazy possibilities in our science fantasy role playing game. For example, yesterday I was thinking ahead to our next session. The kids have spent a considerable sum on rent and deposits, and soon they're going to start literally eating up all their funds. They're going to need jobs. What kind of jobs should they find? Far be it for me to railroad them into specific careers, so I did a quick Google search on "NYC help wanted." I wanted to find lots of options for them to choose from. Whatever I found I would modify to fit into the distant future setting. UPS needs a driver helper, ergo an interplanetary shipping agency on the planet Sxibi does too. There were also quite a few ads for entry level jobs with the National Guard, and that gave me all kinds of ideas about a planetary defense force that has its hands full with local, subterranean insurgents. That's when the uplift idea struck me.

The planet Sxibi is one huge megalopolis, miles high and deeper still, but it wasn't always so. It used to be a vibrant, natural world, teeming with life. Sapient life forms were beginning to evolve, being perhaps only a few million years off, when the galaxy's wider civilization intruded. Sxibi was chosen as the galactic capitol for its central location and vast natural resources. The city was built with arcological principles in mind, blending architectures to meet the needs of the 1+ trillion populace with ecologically beneficial elements to provide a semblance of balance and prevent the wholesale destruction of the planet's native life forms. To some extent the architects were successful, though many wild indigenous species were driven to extinction. Those few to survive did so on the city's outer fringes, which in most cases meant far underground where the bottommost levels abutted the magma layer. Most of these extremophiles were simple organisms, but one turned out to be fairly intelligent.

I had this idea of a subterranean species living on the fringe, intelligent but not truly sapient, not like us. An ideological human scientist, angry at the "civilized" races' treatment of this native Sxibian species, uplifts them to give them true sapience. They are naturally a hive mind species, like bees or ants, so the uplift gives the collective, not individuals, sentience. It doesn't take long for the hive to realize the predicament it's been put in, and it begins attacks to undermine the massive civilization above. These are the first salvos in a war that will culminate in the extinction of the hive mind species, or the reclamation of its planet...and perhaps conquests beyond?

My initial thoughts included presenting knowledge of the attacks to the characters through the filter of the city's massive propaganda machinery. The spin from media outlets, exacerbated by word of mouth of the frightened masses, would frame the attacks in the worst possible light: as terrorist acts perpetrated by insurgents. No mention would be made of the fact that the species responsible for the acts was indigenous to the planet and striking out in what it perceived as self-defense. These kinds of facts can always come out later and muddy the picture for the players, forcing them to wrestle with ethical gray areas. I'm looking forward to that.

But I had more immediate concerns. What does the species look like? I had been thinking of some kind of arachnid species, something terrifying and alien in the way that our own terrestrial spiders are. The more I thought about it, though, the more it smacked of Starship Troopers. So I sent an instant message to my friend David Burgess. David is a gamer who can always be counted on for thought-provoking ideas. It was like he already knew what I was thinking, because right away he started asking me what the indigenous species was like. I said I didn't know and needed some ideas. Over the next few minutes he gave me two great words to latch onto: moss, and hive mind. I've already given away that I took the hive mind idea and ran with it.

The moss idea turned out to be pretty good too. I don't know what my buddy had in mind, but the moss made me think of kudzu and extremophiles and zombies and golems, almost all at once. Here's how I see it working: the moss - which isn't really a plant, of course - is a chemosynthetic organism, deep indigo in color with a velvety texture, that spreads through reproduction using spores. The moss slowly covers organic or inorganic material. It can then consume that material's nutrients, or it can put the material to more sinister use. For example, the moss can grow over a deserted battle robot, then "drive" that robot, becoming a fearsome, moss-covered war machine serving the hive mind. Or it can convert its slain foes to moss zombies. Alternatively it can attack living tissue with its spores, attempting to invade a host organism and kill it to take over its form. The moss growth is slow, though, so while this can be a painful attack leading to a serious condition that requires prompt medical attention to arrest the spread of the moss' growth, it is not acutely effective. In other words, the moss isn't able to mobilize zombie followers during the same battle in which it kills its victims to create the zombies. It takes hours, let's say, maybe even a full day. Of course, breathing the spores is not wise and may hasten onset of symptoms.

The moss also has the ability to form phosphorescent patterns over its surface. This it can use to attempt to confuse its victims, as well as to imitate light patterns and effectively camouflage it under certain conditions.

This is very cool and all and gives me plenty of material to work with for multiple adventures. I'll be able to weave this into the backdrop of the characters' daily lives fairly easily, even unobtrusively, starting slowly with minor news items in the media and progressing to word of mouth. And terrorism can strike anywhere, so if things get too slow, the moss can always be counted on to pick things up no matter where the characters find themselves. Since context can have a huge impact on how events are perceived, anything can happen with the moss and how the characters react to it (immediately or ongoing), so I can't even be accused of railroading.

The moss idea is not, however, particularly original. Hive minds have been present in science fiction and gaming for ages. David pointed out the Thorian in Mass Effect as obviously similar, along with the buggers in Ender's Game. In fact, I've read Ender's Game to my kids, so they are already familiar with the concept of the hive mind. Meanwhile the mental picture I have of the Prometheus-esque NPC, the fanatical environmentalist who uplifts the moss hive mind, looks suspiciously like Dr. Peters
from the movie 12 Monkeys (whether he continues to maintain a passing resemblance to his original human appearance after the hive mind fuses him into the collective, and the extent to which either it controls him or he exerts his influence over it, are matters for speculation and outside the scope of this discussion. All I know is that I have a rather amiable BBEG - with the 'E' as in "evil" being somewhat ambiguous and debatable - with whom reasoning is completely out of the question).

Originality was never my goal, however; I don't intend to publish this campaign setting. I was just looking for something wicked cool that I could use in lots of interesting ways that would allow me to introduce some challenging ideas with lots of murky gray areas. I think I've found it.

Any suggestions on what to name the moss species?

The Perfect Business Model

This weekend we learned about the most successful business venture in galactic history. Here's how it happened.

On our way to the campground, we decided to play a little of our Savage Worlds game in the car. We didn't really get started until we were across town, and then we had to stop as we neared the park so I could pay attention to the navigation, so that gave us about an hour to play. All three of my daughters played (my youngest is an elfin princess named Aurora, joining our Savage Worlds game for the first time), and my wife even joined in, playing her robot character "Robot" while driving.

They started where we left off, having just been through customs. Robot had an "accident" and needed paper towels to clean up the oil she spilled on herself. Lucia was jonesing for some java. So they decided that they wanted to hit a convenience store right there at the spaceport before they did anything else. One at a time they told me what they wanted. Lucia wanted a triple grande espresso latte with whipped cream and caramel. I have no idea what that is or if such a drink truly exists, but it sounds to me like an expensive Starbucks drink. Starbucks is the kind of place my wife goes to, so I consulted with her and we arrived at $5.50 as a realistic price, especially taking into account premium spaceport prices. Remember: I'm aiming for real world prices. Next, Ramoka was looking for Shenarian coffee or tea. Nothing beats the flavors of your homeworld, right? I figured 50-50 chance they had it, used my dice rolling program on the iPhone, and determined that no, they did not carry those. But they did have Shenarie Blast!™ soda, made with real gooberry extract, for $1.75. Meanwhile Aurora took a more pragmatic approach and purchased two oranges and three bananas for $2.50. Finally, Robot simply used some of the store's napkins to clean herself with, then purchased some new XV-15 grade motor oil for $3.95. A quick scan of the characters' retinas (and Robot's bar code?) and the deductions were made from their bank accounts. We only had one pencil in the car, so I took care of the paperwork for simplicity.

After that little excursion the girls got down to business: they needed a place to live. After a quick debate over whether to choose an apartment, a condo, or a hotel, they settled on apartment and needed to know where to find one available. We figured there's probably "an app for that," and $0.99 later Robot had the equivalent of the iPhone Around Me app running on her system (by the way, Robot took advantage of the spaceport's free wi-fi to download the app, but in subsequent games she's going to need to subscribe to a data plan). Robot found some apartments for rent in a pretty broad price range. They settled on a place called "Sunny Gables" which was on the edge of a shopping district called Nipon Square one level above them but still subterranean. Sunny Gables had apartments starting at $800 per month.

To get there they had a choice between ground transportation and air transport. Air transport amounted to air taxis, whereas ground transport was analogous to our modern subway systems. The subway is always cheaper, of course, so that's the way they went. I came up with a system of 10¢ per stop, 50¢ per vertical change of level. The trip to Nipon Square's East Gate Station was $2.20 apiece. There was one changeover, and the vertical train was a fun little roller coaster of a ride for the players to imagine. When they got off the transport, that's when it happened.

The advertisers had East Gate Station covered like a blanket. This involved a barrage of holographic advertisements targeted specifically to the characters based on retina scans being taken right there at the station. Naturally I lifted this idea wholesale from the iris identification mall scene in the movie Minority Report. Lucia was shown a young woman with circles around her tired eyes, dragging through her day, and a voice asked, "Has the caffeine worn off yet, Lucia? Well, when it does, remember Nipon Coffee House!" Ramoka, seven feet high and covered in purple fur, was told of a sumptuous grooming spa (and she later decided it would be a good idea to go there to make sure she hadn't recently picked up any "space fleas"). Aurora was shown scenes of a lively elfin farmer's market just a few blocks away.

Then Robot got scanned. "Need new parts?" asked the voice. "Find everything you need, at RadioShack®!"

That's right: tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands of years into our future, RadioShack® is still there. Thriving, even, and with the same tried-and-true business model: small stores inside of shopping malls; young, moderately aggressive yet aloof sales guys who seem busy, but it's not exactly clear what they're actually doing; and an inventory of obscure, niche, home electronics products that 99% of the population will never need. A recipe for long-term success if ever there was one, and I mean really long term.

So that was the big joke that just kind of came to me on the fly. My wife laughed out loud, but it pretty much sailed right over the kids' heads, so I had to explain it to them. They didn't see the humor. Oh well.

The kids went on to discover that Nipon Square was not square at all. Rather, it was a gigantic underground dome, with a sky-like ceiling and a blindingly-bright glowing orb floating unsuspended high overhead, simulating the sun. The space above them was filled with sky cars circling in well-ordered traffic patterns, the main points of entry and exit easily identified. Built into the perimeter of the dome were residential and parking properties. Beneath the imitation sky, at dome-ground level, breathed a lively, glistening city within a city, with many mid-sized buildings sporting all kinds of interesting architectures reflecting the influences of many species. It was a very clean looking place, and in the center, an enticing amusement park. A hundred thousand people called Nipon Square home, and many more visited there daily. It had everything, being one of those places you could live your whole life in and never need to leave.

Sunny Gables apartments was built into the east wall of the dome. The rental office manager was a disgusting, oozing blob with open sores and bubbling eyeballs whose vocalizations consisted of squirting noises reminiscent of unpleasant experiences in the necessarium. Fortunately he had a "translator" panel installed (a clear panel, floating above his head, displaying his words in the common language) so he could do business with the party. Through him they learned they would need to cough up the first and last month's rent, plus an additional $200 deposit if they wanted a furnished apartment. They took the deal and split the cost four ways, but first, the credit check. None had bad credit, per se, but the problem was that most of them didn't have any credit at all. Fortunately Aurora was a princess, so she did, in fact, have truly excellent credit. Thus they were approved for the contract (one year), their retinas scanned again (to be used as keys), and they checked into their two bed, one bath apartment on the 20th floor, overlooking Nipon Square.

Next up: who knows? It's totally up to them!

Savage Worlds

Today we finally started our Savage Worlds game. Just as I do with our Pathfinder game, I'm running a custom campaign of my own design using the Savage Worlds system. You should take that term "design" with a grain of salt, because I'm making up everything - and I mean everything - as I go along. There is no design, in other words. The setting is in the far-flung future, on a planet called Sxibi (pronounced SHI - bee, which rhymes with Libby). Sxibi is an all-city planet, based loosely on Asimov's Trantor, which revolves in orbit around the black hole at the galactic core. It's sky is lit by the glow of dozens of sparkling suns illuminating a local nebula's gas clouds, but most residents never get to enjoy this sight. Sxibi is home to over a trillion souls from all species and walks of life from around the galaxy, and when you have that many people, the vast majority of them live by necessity miles beneath the surface, or at least nowhere near the uppermost levels. Only the wealthy get to play up top.

We only had three players today: my youngest daughter opted out, and of the neighbors next door only the boy was free. My oldest daughter played Lucia G. Cithog, a mostly human scientific experiment who escaped from the lab and is on the run. She's a goth chick whose hair changes color to match her mood, and who doesn't get excited about anything and can't be bothered to care. My girl says she took this approach because of the problems we were having in the Pathfinder game. By getting into character and role-playing the apathetic goth girl, she won't feel tempted to try to be bossy and run the show. She will "go with the flow." She told me this tonight at lights out. I thought it was a thoughtful approach on her part and I thanked her for her initiative. It's funny: while we were playing this afternoon I thought she was having a miserable time. She was kind of moping and seemed rather disinterested. I asked her what was wrong and if she was feeling ok. She replied that she hadn't had her morning coffee yet. I was too dense to catch what she meant, and thought she was talking about real life. A few minutes later I asked again if she was sure she was ok. This time, for a split second, she smiled energetically, all teeth and energy, nodding her head, then went back to deadpan and said, "I'm in character." I'm liking where this is going and how she's creatively tackling the teamwork problem.

My next oldest girl plays a character named Ramoka, from the planet Sherarie. Her species is completely a product of her own imagination. She is seven feet tall and covered head to toe in purplish fur that glows in the dark. She has long, pointy ears, and her six arms end in hands with sticky claws. She is an excellent climber and archer. We didn't actually get much play in today (we had some final character sheet prep-work to complete, and the kid next door hadn't even started a character yet), so we haven't had a chance to see what Ramoka's personality will be.

The boy next door created a Japanese half-human, half-"acid dragon" character named Kai Z. Suzuki. I'm guessing the encounter with the black dragon during our last Pathfinder session made a big impression on him. Anyway, we decided that his dragon wings give him an edge, so this gave us our first chance to create our own Edge (Savage Worlds doesn't have flying or wings listed as Edges). His character is still maturing, so he does not yet have a breath weapon, and his scales are not yet armor grade. While dreaming up all his features, out loud, he got really excited when he decided that the last time a half-dragon sheds before death, his scales will be made of pure platinum. Pretty cool stuff going on in that kid's head. I added my own herpetological twist by rolling 2d20 and determining that he would be shedding in the next six days, which means his eyes are somewhat opaque and milky blue as he nears ecdysis. Anyway, Kai comes from the medieval era of our own planet, and aliens went back in time and abducted him for experiments or slavery or something, brought him forward into our game's epoch, and now he has escaped. There seems to be no shortage of folks evading the authorities in this game.

They also made friends with an obese NPC named Tox Cudann. Points to the first reader who can tell me where I got his name. He's an obese pilot with the MacGyver Edge (too cool that they made an Edge called MacGyver...and yes, it's exactly what it sounds like). They'll be seeing more of him, though they got separated in Customs (see below).


My wife said go ahead and create a character for her, too. She asked to be a robot, one who is street smart and can obtain all kinds of information from the nets, kind of like R2D2. For her Hindrance she chose Quirk: her character is liable to break into song and dance at inconvenient times. She also has wheels instead of legs, which will make mobility interesting. Sadly, she didn't get a chance to play because she was cooking dinner.

The characters got to know each other as passengers on the space flight bound for Sxibi, right as the ship was popping out of hyperspace. We had a little discussion about the nature of general relativity and how the perception of time varies with different frames of reference. I babbled some nonsense about how the technology of the future seamlessly blended light speed, time travel, and "between space" to permit intragalactic travel without all the heartache of your loved ones aging and dying while you're away. The characters watched out through their portholes as the ship descended first into Sxibi's atmosphere, then into a massive tunnel miles wide that burrowed straight into the city's metallic exoskeleton. There the ship merged with Sxibi's internal traffic, millions of ships gliding through the world-spanning tube, with many lanes vertical and horizontal alike. Think of it like our interstate highways, but in three dimensions, and they're wrapped inside a series of interconnected buildings on a massive scale. Their ship descended into a sub system further down via another tunnel, decelerating as it went, and soon they were below ground level, though there was no way to determine that visually. Eventually the ship eased onto a landing pad, the passengers disembarked, and the characters found themselves in Customs.

While wasting away in the horrendously long Customs line, they learned that everything was going to be tied to their retinal patterns. Money, access, advertisements, you name it, kind of like in the movie Minority Report. Everyone who comes to Sxibi gets their eyes scanned at point of entry. So along comes this squirrely guy while they're waiting - literally a diminutive squirrel-like humanoid - who approaches them in line and sells them lenses to change their retinal patterns. Eventually they neared the front of the line. A robot was scanning everyone's eyes, and from that point forward, that scan would be the basis for all their future transactions. It was then that the players had to make their first decision: should they wear the fake lenses for the initial scan? Or should they get a legitimate first scan and then use the fake lenses as needed down the road? Lucia went ahead and popped in the lenses for her scan. Ramoka and Kai kept their lenses pocketed and had legitimate retinal scans taken. What impacts this decision will have down the road is anybody's guess.

And that's where we stopped play.

Savage Worlds

My copy of Savage Worlds Explorer's Edition came in the mail this week. I've read through the book and I like what I see. I'm going to be using the Savage Worlds (SW) system for teaching history this year, specifically by inserting my kids' characters into actual historical events. I imagine I'll blog more extensively on that in future posts.

I've mentioned before that I have guests coming over this Saturday for a big Pathfinder game, so this weekend might not be the best time to try out SW. Maybe if the kids are up to it on Sunday afternoon we'll run a little play test, but I have a feeling they'll be all RPG'd out by then. Whether it happens this week or next, here's what we've thought up.

When I was first telling Norma about SW, I said it could be used for any setting. I said, "Pick a setting, any setting. If you could role play anything, anywhere, what would it be?"

She said, "I'd like to be shrunk down and play in a dollhouse, with my dolls coming to life." I said that maybe we could do something like that and started thinking about how to set it up.

Back when the girls were younger, I used to make up bedtime stories featuring a character named the Forgetful Fairy. The Forgetful Fairy gets into a lot of trouble due to her notoriously short attention span and short-term memory. Some stories were epic in scope and went on and on for weeks. Nowadays we read chapter books (currently working on The Golden Compass), so it's been a long time since the Forgetful Fairy has made an appearance, though my kids remember her fondly. When thinking about the SW dollhouse idea, I thought it might be interesting to bring the Forgetful Fairy out of retirement.

So here's how it will play out: the characters are kids who are away from home with their parents and stuck in a boring situation, and one of them wishes out loud that they could be back at home playing with their dolls. The Forgetful Fairy magically appears and grants the wish, and all three are shrunk down to doll size and whisked away to the dollhouse where their playthings all come to life. They have a blast playing with their dolls until they start to feel hungry. They call out for the Fairy to return and end the spell, but she's off doing other things and has, of course, completely forgotten about them. The rest of the adventure is a quest to the kitchen where both the food and the telephone can be found. Obstacles to overcome include the stairs, the cat, a faction of dolls that doesn't want them to leave, and possibly a snake (I keep pet ball pythons in real life, but they don't actually roam free in the house). Also, since the telephone is attached to the kitchen wall and the buttons are on the handset, calling their parents may be quite challenging. Allies along the way will include their Polly Pockets and an escaped Hamster.

We'll see what happens.