Friday, May 29, 2015

The Climbers Recap: Playing at the Music Bowl, Part II

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We return to the Climbers as a new problem boils over: White has infected the food supply with the spores. As fear of hunger rears its head the PCs attempt to maintain stability. Or at least their own lives.

As in my earlier actual play reports, small green text indicates out of character talk, mechanics and other game aspects outside of the fiction.

Our main characters are:
  • Gator (the Gunlugger) is an assassin and part-time bodyguard who wears customized scrounged armor made from Kevlar and ceramic inserts. Camouflaged for the jungle, his face was ruined in a fight with an alligator. His eyes are always sizing things up and his brutal life has left his body a hard sheet of muscle. He recently obtained a gang of mercenaries. Then he got blown up.
  • Jarhead (the Savvyhead) is a thin African-American man with a short goatee, long dreads, and clothes covered in pockets and gear. Travelling around in an old news van, he repairs items for a living. He is investigating a device that can bend space and time. He has also obtained employees in the form of a young woman Allison and her brother Waters as well as a little girl named Memo.
  • November Orleans (the Skinner turned Battlebabe) is descended from a family which left New Orleans before it sank. She is a beautiful woman of mixed heritage with dark eyes and skin, a sweet face and lush body. She dresses herself in a mix of scavenged clothing that somehow works together and wears a necklace made from rows of antique coins which jingle and shine as she moves. Her main profession is as a dancer, especially belly dancing, but she has a sideline business in cooking and animal training.
  • Violet Jefferson (the Touchstone) is descended by survivalists and her clothing and gear reflects her origins. Plain looking but fit, she carries a pocket copy of the Federalist papers and founding documents of the United States of America, an idea she hopes to revive. Her followers are demanding her help putting on a mission to liberate Miami from a tyrant.
The current highlighting is:
  • Violet: Sharp and Hard.
  • Jarhead: Weird and Cool.
  • November: Hot and Weird.
  • Gator: Sharp and Weird.

Playing at the Music Bowl, Part II

We start the second half with Jarhead and Gator.

Jarhead opens his brain and gets an 8. He marks experience.

I ask, "who did you lose to the climbers?"

Jarhead answers, “my mother, once I lost her I started wandering.”


Jarhead’s mind races as he makes for the entrance. He reaches out, visualizing what lies beyond the steel doors. The rattling of the roar and the crunch of the vehicle’s tread forms the faint outline of large rusty pickup in his mind. The doors stand firm. But are they firm enough?

“What’s that?” Allison asks, sleepily. She turns to the far side of the shop as Gator steps out of the way of the door, pulling his MP5. “Waters stay in the van,” she calls back.

Jarhead reaches the door and flicks the light switch.

He rolls Acting under fire. He rolls weird due to Spooky Intense, marks experience and gets a 6.

The truck crashes with the doors, sending one flying outward and off of its hinges. A spray of brick flies through the room as Allison ducks for cover. As the pickup comes to a halt in the shattered entranceway, the other door fall to the floor, revealing a bruised and broken Jarhead.

I kindly inflict only 2-harm.

Gator moves to cover, taking in the blood stained star pattern on the passenger side. As the driver shakes off the trauma, the rest of the gang moves into room.

“I suggest you get your things and get out of here,” Gator shouts, revealing himself. “Leave the pickup though, it’s not going anywhere.”

“We need to get our food,” a squinty eyed man yells.

“There’s food elsewhere.”

“Who are you?” he says pointing a rusty handgun at him.

“I’m Gator,” the mercenary says coldly.

“I don’t know who you are Gator but there are more of us than there are of you. Get lost.”

Gator grins and raises his gun. “I suggest you put your things on the ground boys.”

Gator Goes aggro and gets a 14. He has this move advanced, so they have no option to fight back.

A man with spiky hair puts a hand on the other’s shoulder. “That’s the guy! That’s Gator. He’s the one that got blown up in the Autodoc. They said he was dead.”

“I heard about that guy,” a red haired man says, wiping his face. “I heard he murdered a whole holding once.”

“Look!” the boss of the gang says. “He’s got a fucking rocket launcher on his back! We’re going to get murdered!”

“Let’s get out of here!” the first speaker says. In mad scramble, they run and drop their weapons, leaving a pile of old pistols, knives, clubs and a pair of shotguns.

Jarhead picks himself off the ground. Stiffly he dusts off some of the debris from his outfit. He looks at the pile and steps forward.

“That is all of my stuff,” Gator says. He smiles and grabs a couple of guns.

“My associates need some way to defend themselves,” Jarhead says, wincing as he takes another step. “They are lacking in that.”

Allison rushes to his side. “Are you okay Jarhead? You look really hurt.”

Jarhead stumbles to a chair. “Yeah not thinking so good right now.”

“There is blood coming out of your ear,” she says.

“Yes, it does that.”

Gator wanders over. “I’ll sell it to you for something,” he offers.

“Don’t we have that thing for him?” Allison asks.

“It’s ready?” the warrior asks.

Jarhead starts to rise from his seat. “Yes, ow! Go get it.”

Allison rushes off and returns with a set of high tech goggles.

Gator examines them appreciatively. “How about this? You can keep all of this stuff if you keep my gear in good order.”

“How about I keep your stuff in good order if you keep us in good order,” Jarhead suggests. “Shit like this is not conducive for further work. Keep you supplied and happy if you keep us fit and happy.”

“What level of safe?” the hard man asks.

As Allison dabs his ear, Jarhead explains, “if we go start shit, you don’t have to finish it. But if someone is trying to do something like this, assistance will be appreciated.”

“OK. I’m alright with that.”

“Good, you can leave your stuff with us, we’ll take a look at it. I suggest you stick around for now. And hey look you’ve got a new car.”

Gator looks at the broken heap. “I’m not sure it’s going to work right now.”

“We’ll give that a look over too.” Jarhead grunts. “In the morning. I think I’ll take a nap.” Then he slumps over.

Memo walks over rubbing her eyes. “We should put him in the bed with the straps so he doesn’t fall out.”

“Does he normally fall out?” Gator asks the child.

“He doesn’t normally bleed from his ears.”

He shrugs. “Do whatever you want.”

”And so the creepy little girl straps Jarhead to the bed.”

And now back to the women.


Violet hurries over to November as the crowd disperses. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Another one?” the dancer asks.

“We’ve got one kid that sprouted a stalk and another one that almost did.” Violet's face hardens. “I had to put that one out of her misery. But anyway we need to do something,”

“Yes. I was heading to meet the council to see what they are going to do.”

“Well nobody can go in there until that area has been cleaned out.”

November looks at Violet. “There were guards on your door right?”

“Not when I got there. There are now.”

A minor retcon during the game. Initially Violet said there were none and got chewed out about it.

The pair head for the council chambers. A few minutes later they arrive outside the private box where a few high priests lurk, discussing recent events. A pair of guards in pure white robes decorated in silver chimes stop them at the door.

“What is your business?” says the one wielding a bronze staff.

“I wish to speak with the council about the crisis with the food,” November says gently. “I was the one who discovered it. My friend here has additional information.”

“You will have to remain outside. Only those within the order can enter the council chamber.”

November leans forward and touches his arm. She whispers, “I don’t think you understand....”

I really couldn’t hear the rest but let her roll Manipulate a person. She gets an 8. She marks experience.

As she bats her eyes at the flustered guard, the other man interjects. “Remember your duties.”

A figure steps in from behind the women. Wisher pulls back his long dark hair and says, “don’t concern yourself with that Pellet, everything is in order. Grip, you were saying?”

Grip adjusts his collar. “I suppose under the unusual circumstances we can make an exception. Pellet please tell the council that there is important news to be brought by one outside the order.” As Pellet disappears into the private booth, Grip continues, “my Lady Orleans, perhaps we can step over here so we can discuss things.”

The pair step into a corner and quietly discuss an arrangement. November gives him a kiss and promise of a private showing.

A moment later Pellet returns and shows November and Violet inside.

Violet opens her brain to the council room searching for the immediate danger. Since she knows her enemy, she rolls hard and gets an 8. She also marks experience.

I ask, "that first love of yours, that died of climbers, what was he like?

She describes him as a nice enough fellow and not a bad boy. He enjoyed exploring the woods and always had her back. They grew up together. He could be reckless though.

We give him the name Marshal.


As they enter the dimly lit room, Violet's eyes search out what threat lies ahead. As she focuses on the pale blue lights, her mind opens to the psychic maelstrom. The danger of the climbers seems to recede, replaced by a sense of self-devouring hunger.

The women approach two semi-circular tables, each ringed by four cloaked figures. As they reach a space between them, a female voice addresses them. "What news do you bring to us?"

November reads a person and gets a hard hit.

November turns to face each member as she speaks. "I helped disperse a crowd of people and stop the panic as the news of the infestation spread. I said I would ask you what you intend to do for them. My friend has seen something as well."

"What is it that you have seen?" An elderly man asks Violet.

Violet repeats her encounter with the two dying children.

The assembled elders whisper to each other. After a moment the old woman states, “this is dire news. With so many others here, it had already put a strain on our food supplies. This blow places us in a precarious situation.”

“What do you intend to do about it?” November asks.

In other words using one of her hold to learn their intentions.

“We need to secure more food,” the elder continues. “The nearest safest location to do so would be Taters. We need to draft an expedition to seize Taters.”

Taters is a small holding within Miami which unsurprisingly raises potatoes.

November asks what are they feeling right now? She remarks she “is good at interpreting body language through sheets.”


November seizes on the council members' shifting stance and the gentle adjustments of their robes. The food situation has them scared, she thinks. They don’t care who gets hurt fixing it.

”Just the kind of people I can’t stand,” Violet says.

She goes on to ask about the hunting around the Music Bowl. I explain there isn’t much left nearby as the local wildlife has been driven off or eaten. If she goes far enough she could hunt down swamp life. “Are you proposing to wrangling gators?”

”Possibly.”


Violet steps forward. “One thing that would take the strain off would be getting White out of the way.”

“Unfortunately he is too well defended on the Big Ship,” a stooped old man says. “Taters is easier for us to take and deprives him of a food source.”

“Those people need to eat too.”

“They have thrown their lot in with White,” he replies.

This isn’t true. Violet knows from Boo that they were simply afraid of White.

Violet grits her teeth. “There is a difference between throwing in with a bully and not standing up to him because you are afraid of being knocked down. Maybe if you offer them protection, they might be willing to trade you.”

“I’m sorry did we ask your opinion?” asks another priestess.

”Oh bang,” says Jarhead.

Violet’s eyes light up. “Look White already causing enough trouble as is. Do you really want to be starting more conflict right now?”

The council begins to talk over her, discussing their next step. “Wasn’t there a group of mercenaries-

That gets her upset. Violet rolls Towering presence and gets an 11. She also marks experience.

”I do not like being ignored!” Violet shouts. “Now look! I did not come all the way down here to watch you destroy what order is left in Miami. Work with Taters, offer them protection for food. Don’t steal their livelihood. Be better than White.”

As I look over my options for their response, we discuss what would happen if they attacked.

”They are old men?” Violet asks.

”And women,” I add.

”I can take them!”


The council stare at her and each other over a long moment of silence. The old woman coughs. “Alright we will do it your way. We will ‘liberate’ them and give them a deal.”

“Thank you.”

November asks how she could get them to reassure the refugees?

I point out that “if you make it clear that rioting refugees are a threat to stability that would motivate them.”


November addresses the council with a smile and submissive gaze. “We still need to reassure the refugees that things will improve. Perhaps if you give them a focus, such as helping liberate Taters, it will distract them from rioting. Provide them hope and a sense of purpose.”

After a few quick whispers, the old priestess replies more warmly, “we will send a messenger to relay that useful idea.”

“And make sure your water supply is secure as well,” November adds.

“Thank you November. Please let us finish our preparations in privacy.”

With that the women are led out.

Onto the next day.

As the sun rises over the Music Bowl, Violet looks over the water supply. A network of tarps cover a third of the remaining stands, funneling rain water and dew into a huge barrel. A dozen armed men and women watch from the heights above it for any attempts to access it. A few chat casually about an attempt to break into the foundry last night.

“I heard they smashed through a wall with a car,” one remarks.

Violet finds November and they head by Jarhead’s workshop.

They find the wreckage of a pickup lodged in the entryway. Squeezing past, they are greeted by Allison and Memo.

“Can I offer you some rat?” Allison asks as she slides a metal plate of meat to Gator.

”What happened here?” November asks. She glances at Jarhead, who is strapped down to a stretcher.

“They crashed a vehicle through the wall,” Allison explains. “They wanted our rats.”

Violet turns to Gator. “We had some nurses asking about your whereabouts. You alright?”

“We are fine,” Gator says.

“Jarhead got smashed into a wall!” the fair haired woman corrects him.

November looks at the wall beside the entrance where a distinct imprint remains.

Memo pokes Jarhead. “He was bleeding out of his ears. It is all crusty now.”

November opens her brain, focusing on Jarhead. She gets a 9 and marks experience.

I ask, “Does November want to go back to her family?”

She says, “I’m in that state where I assume that things at home will remain static and that someday I would go back and everything fine.”


November turns to Jarhead. The battered man twists in his slumber. Though moaning lowly in pain, she can see he will be fine in the long run. The sounds of the foundry fill her ears: crackling flames, spinning machines, and a hammering from Waters’ work area. These tools remind her of Jarhead. This injured man is simply a damaged tool, an implement to be put to use by someone else.

Jarhead comments that he probably is to most people actually.

A blood tinged tear leaks from an eye as he stirs.

“Hey he’s waking up,” Memo says poking him.

Jarhead’s skull pounds with pain. He struggles to get up. “Ow! Why am I tied down?”

“So you don’t fall out.”

“That a pretty good reason,” he remarks. “Now untie me.”

As Memo releases him, Allison brings a freshly roasted batch of food to the table. “Rat anybody? Nice and fresh!”

“I need to find more things than rat,” Jarhead grumbles, hobbling to the table.

“If we went closer to the swamp we could try to catch a crocodile,” Allison says.

“There’s an expedition to liberate Taters,” November suggests. “They kind of have some food.”

“So we can get potatoes?” the tinkerer asks.

“The council mentioned something about mercenaries. I think they hoped to use them.” November reads some confusion on Gator’s ruined face. “Gator are you not talking to them?”

“I just woke up yesterday,” he explains. “I’ve been asleep a couple of weeks. It’s been hard to contact me. I was hoping you would know where they are.”

Violet cocks her head. “I saw Morgana moving among the refugees recently arranging minor gigs. But I haven’t seen her or her men recently, not since they went up the north road. Wire told me they were going to be gone a few days. That was two days ago. They might even be back already.”

“OK, maybe I’ll take a look for them. But we need to take care of this White business.”

“Can you talk a little quieter please?” Jarhead says. “My head hurts.”

“Let’s let Jarhead rest,” Violet says.

Shadow bursts in. “What happened here!?”

“He’ll be fine,” Gator says.

“I need my head for thinking,” the injured man says sliding into a seat. “Thinking is important to me.”

The group moves outside the foundry and discusses their next step, while Jarhead rests. A few of Violet’s Republicans join them.

Garber asks, “Are we going to do something? There is still no word from the Autodoc. We need to break in there.”

Violet nods. “It has been too long. Let’s get ready and check it out. Does anybody want to come with us?”

We establish that the liberation of Taters will be today or tomorrow. It is a half days travel to the Autodoc.

November asks, “what can we do to get in?”

“Nobody’s tried breaking down the doors,” Garber suggests.

“Who has been trying to get in?” Gator asks.

“The nurses have been sending a team every few days.”

“And it is still closed?”

“Yes. I went with them last two times,” the youth says, a frown crossing his face.

“We found ways to break out,” Violet says. “Those places should be weakened.”

“Yes,” Garber says nodding. “I poked around the hole in the West Wing and that place is clear to the end of the hall where the security door is sealed up.”

“I need to get a new mask before I come along,” Gator says.
.
“Do what you have got to do and we will reconvene in a couple hours,” Violet says.

On to Gator.

The third refugee Gator asked actually knew something.

“I saw them they just came back a few hours ago,” the woman says, the braids from her half shaved head covering one eye. “They were dragging something on a sled.”

A quarter hour later, he finds the gang sitting in a section of the stands drinking.

“I thought you were dead,” Morgana says tipping back a brown bottle.

“I takes more than that to kill me,” Gator says getting into the middle of the pack. “I heard you were busy.”

“We’ve been doing a few jobs here and there,” she says. “A bit of guarding and delivery. It’s been pretty profitable. Right guys?”

As the cheer dies down, Gator asks, “I heard you dragged something back?”

“One of the uppity ups wanted us to retrieve something from the Autodoc,” she says adjusting her shoulder pad.

“So you’ve been to the Autodoc?”

“By it, not deep inside it,” she says with a quiet laugh.

“We were thinking stopping by there. It’s taking too long to open up.”

“It is a shame,” she says with a nod. “That was a pretty good a place to get patched up. It doesn’t seem that the nurses can do quite as good a job without the hospital.”

“I‘m going to see what I can drum up with the head nurse for reopening it,” he tells her. “Oh and be careful with the food here, someone got spores into the stores.”

Wire spits out his drink.

“I don’t think the drinks have problems yet.”

"That’s good to know," the old mercenary says, wiping his mouth.

"It will be getting a bit hungry around here," Morgana comments.

“Yes, we are looking to go to Taters in a couple days see what we can do there," Gator says. "Just make sure you don’t make the same deals I do. I'll need the leverage. Oh and I got some more weapons, that people left lying around.”

"We’ll look at them," she says. "But if they are from people around here they are probably not better than what we got."

“Probably not but you never know.”

"Maybe they got bullets."

Elsewhere November chats with of the nurses. "What are the computer's defenses?" she asks Iris.

“Well, it depends," the thin woman says. "if it can get a hold of you. The surgery machines are supposed to remain in the surgery rooms. But some of them can move on their own.”

"Is there some way to shut them down?"

"You could kill the main power I guess," she says chewing some old mushrooms slowly.

“So there is not a password?” the dancer says.

"Barnum might have known if there was but maybe no one did. No one alive that is."

Jarhead asks for the best way for him to get better. I suggest resting for a month or letting the doctors put him under a week. He decides to head to Autodoc as part of taking the move Life Support. Then he can fix himself.

Wisher arrives at the foundry later in the morning. He focuses all of his attention on the gleaming motorcycle Jarhead built for November, ignoring the mechanic’s pain.

“I plan to give it to her when we start the festival in a couple days,” he says placing the drab sheet back over it.

“Wonderful. I can stay here right?” Jarhead asks, looking over the final payment.

“In the foundry?”

“Yeah, you don’t use it anyway.”

Wisher creases his brow. “We do use it.”

“Yeah but you dabble,” the tinkerer says.

“How about this?” Wisher says. “If you can fix the hole in the wall you can stay.“

“Done and done.”

As Wisher wheels his prize out, Jarhead turns to Memo. “I don’t know how Gator got in here. Find the where the breach is.”

End of Session

Then we determine Hx improvements. Unfortunately it was a very split game so the options are equite straightforward. I need to work on that. One issue is that Jarhead stays in one place while Violet wanders around a lot.
  • Violet gives +1 Hx to November.
  • November gives +1 Hx to Violet.
  • Gator gives +1 Hx to Jarhead.
  • Jarhead gives +1 Hx to Gator.
November remarks she is only two experience from changing playbooks, while Gator notes he is at +2 Hx with everyone.

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