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Saturday, January 19

Classic Traveller Session Report #4 - Vanders Dub-Step

The last time I got a chance to run a session in my Original(Own) Classic Traveller Universe (OTU) was April 2018. It was the third session of the second group I was able to get together online and ended like any role-playing session with more to do then when we started. 

If you are a game referee you know the "space" I'm in. That of more than one play group gaming in the same campaign. Which is fucking cool. You want to game the world more because the actions of the PC's keep on expanding the field of play. And different groups in play generate even more event horizons which make future game prep immensely challenging and rewarding. I want to see what becomes of the beast! 



So I've pushed further sessions when I know I can run and nothing really lined up again until today. With another group of new players. No one, if my listening ears were on, had ever played Traveller before. And as a referee I've only run Traveller for seven-twelve? total sessions. If you are a fan of OSR play Classic Traveller will work for you. Actually let me say if you are a PC who loves OSR play and have no problem with using an instant character generator to produce a character a game can get off the ground quicker than D&D!

This came together with such little planning that I caught one of the players saying "Feels strange to be called my real name." We didn't have any avatars, just are naked selves. Which made it more difficult for me to recognize each player as what "type" of character they were, but this is kind of a bonus. Everyone had to roleplay. Like here is what I want to do cause I don't know what my PC is good at so I'm going to do this. Throws you back on what is important during live play; be involved, be interesting. Do stuff! and then let the dice decide. 

Here is the stuff the PC's did:

All were ex-army, out of work and looking for a way to pay for water and air under the dome.I threw out relative rumors tangential to previous adventures and hit the crew straight up with a patron; Sader Z. an old, emaciated and bitter loan shark. He hangs out at the Body Double coffee shop taking bets on the underground fight scene. Mon-Fay, an Omni-Sun cop owes 30,000 in gambling debts and Sader Z. can't find him. Bring the dead-beat Mon-Fay to him alive and he'll split the debt with you all. 15 for Sader 15 for the PC's. Sader Z knows Mon-Fay has a pumped cube over in the Starsky block. Unit 420 above the ultra-mart. He has a month on as part of security at the Oh-Rif facility outside the dome and then a month off at home here in the dome. Sader reminds the PC's he wants Mon-Fay brought to him alive. He can't make a corpse pay up.

The PC's case the block and start asking ultra-mart employees if Mon-Fay has been around lately. Their questions spook Scuffy the janitor in charge of the floor-wax robos to run out the back. The PC's try and catch the poor bastard but they lose him in the tight, busy thoroughfare outside. The PC's search the janitor's office and don some maintenance uniforms (Starsky Property Management) and force the door to the upper level apartments all the while taking careful note of the video surveillance in abundance for such a low-rent complex. The auto-lift is out, of course so the stairs it is. On the third floor landing three dudes in overcoats (Gang=Bung Monkeys) ask "what is up?" I guess they were not expecting an unscheduled maintenance call for the fourth floor cause the PC's rolled snake eyes on their reaction roll and the gang members immediately attack. One overcoat took to the stairs going up. Talker pulled a cattle-prod while Back-Up pulled a body pistol. Everyone and I mean everyone rolled for shit in the stairwell. Electricity and firearms were discharged willy-nilly. The PC with the cudgel actually cleared the room. The party was then able to force access into 420, catching the runaway overcoat dude gathering some data chips from Mon-Fay's wall comp. "Mon-Fay hasn't been around. You know he can be on duty for a month or more man. He said if anyone come around while he gone burn his deck. That's what I'm doing man. Here take the chips man just let me go." 

The PC's head back to the Body Double and show Sader Z what they got. He gladly takes the data chips from them and lets them know he is pretty displeased they show up with no money and no Mon-Fay. "Find him dam it!" They don't let the loan shark in on the sealed Huron seed package they found hidden in Mon-Fay's apartment. Huron and Omni-Sun run Oh-Rif, the ag research facility where Mon-Fay works. The PC's naturally suspect they are holding the acid-rain resistant seed promised colonists for the last three years. Probably money and the recent terrorist attack on self-same facility wasn't just for fun.

The PC's decide to go check out Mon-Fay's place of work, the Oh-Rif facility on the eastern edge of the Skalvil Sea. They bribe their way on a supply boat from Halo Shipping but once out on the water the skipper says he can't take them all the way in. "Since the terrorist attack a few days ago security is really tight." He can drop the PC's off at Javon Musk's farm. It is just outside the facility and he rents ATV's for hunting parties looking for sport on Skalvil's tainted, acid-rain surface. So that is what they do. Musk is a farmer and animal trainer. He lives comfortably outside the dome cause he is a popular wilderness guide for the wealthy out of Kazawan City. The PC's use the cover of a hunting party to rent ATV's and observe the research facility through scopes. Lot of security. Lot going on. The PC's decide there is no way they are going to get in without getting caught so take their fustration out on nearby Skalvil Rabbits. Lanky, fast vermin the size of large house cats, it doesn't take long for their accurate shooting to bring down dinner as well as a VTOL from Oh-Rif.


The party is informed they are trespassing on restricted property and to wait for ground security forces approaching. They will be then identified and escorted off restricted property. The PC's were like fuck, we should have gone and tried to sell these seeds to the Vanders Labor Union back under the dome.... 

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