Classic Traveller Random NPC Generator

I'm cobbling together some random generation tables for my Classic Traveller game. NPC's, like PC's are built on six attributes each created with a 2D6 throw. Pretty straight forward. Unless there is a mess of them. You could go with straight sevens across the board. That way you don't even need to write anything down until your NPC's start taking damage. That's because in combat damage is applied to the three physical stats of the character; Strength, Dexterity, and Endurance. But yeah, that's fucking boring. You've just made any random encounter the same dumb ass squib over and over. You know, like when you run into Goblins in a game of D&D they are all kinda the same. Unless you delve into some of the neat random tables littering the blogosphere to help crack that crap. Classic Traveller is old-school role playing. Like they did in '77! And that means you never know if the mook you just engaged in the bar is some drunk local, cyber enhanced gang banger or maybe even ex-military! 

One of the most important combat distinctions between Player Characters and NPC's is your game's PC's all start with a default Level Zero (0) skill in all weapons listed in the LBB's. This does not apply to your average NPC on the street. That means your average NPC on the street will be dealt a -5 to any combat rolls in combat. That is a serious distinction. But variety is the spice of life. If your gnarly space jocks get in a mix up with the local street toughs some of them may have some relevant weapon or hand to hand skills right? 

But I have no interest in stat'ing up ahead of time five, ten, twenty different types of NPC's for any given game session. To find out who is at the end of my player's upraised fist I want random results and I want them instantly! Fortunately we do not live in 1977 and we have mad gamers who know how to make random generators which we can all use from our desktop, tablet and phone. 

Bookmark this blog post. You are going to want to use it. Following are generators which give you all six character attributes accurately weighted and randomly generated. I've also broken the generators out in the chance of any one member of a group of NPC's having a level zero or level one (or both) in a relevant skill. 

I'm tacking on some career flavor tables to give some more specific flavor, but these tables, for me, are to give a detailed look at the combat effectiveness of any scum and villainy my PC's decide to get hot and personal with.

NPC's with a 1 in 5 chance of being Skilled

NPC's with a 1 in 10 chance of being Skilled

So now you got a bunch of space scum for your PC's to tussle with. Maybe they need some more flavor. Here I am going to use Paul Gallagher's Augmented Reality, The Holistic City Kit for Cyberpunk Games. I can import his tables into the random generator so with a click of the button you can give your home slice some local stank!

What does the Skilled NPC do?

So ideally this would work with one click. You could enter the number of mooks encountered and spit out a text report of all of them and if any are skilled what is their skilled career background. Well, I don't have those kind of skills. I am relying on The Last Gasp Grimoire to facilitate this tool. I guess to use this succor successfully you need to hit the link for the type of NPC you are interested in and record/copy & paste stats. If they happen to be skilled you can hit the other generator. Myself, I will most likely use this tool to figure out how many thugs in a crowd do not suffer the -5 penalty when attacking in combat.

The random career is a simple method of figuring out what the NPC is skilled at. If it is a medic or emergency technician than the skill would be Medical. A Mercenary you need to pick some combat skill. A Fixer is easy slap on Streetwise. Transport Worker? Evac, Steward, Drive ATV; these are all good choices. Remember Classic Traveller goes light on skills. The combination of place, attributes and maybe a skill or two is all you have to create the NPC on the spot. This is enough for skilled roleplayers. The skill list for Classic Traveller is 23 individual skills plus weapon and unarmed combat skills. Some of the skills are a header for a cascade list. So yeah just pick what makes sense. The more I play with Classic Traveller (which is admittedly not a lot) the more I appreciate its stone cold old school aesthetic.  

Classic Traveller Session Report #3 - Shady Deals Under the Dome

Read Session #2 and Session #1 if you would like. Jones, Hernandez and Pavlov head to Below Zero to collect their bounty from Barger Vas, the VCL boss. Vas asks the PC's to think of the widows and orphans fund he will have to dip into to make good on the bounty and would the PC's have a heart? Maybe let this one go for free. When the PC's don't seem inclined he gives over a credit cube with 3,500. This will get split three ways cause these were the only PC's who made the session. I wonder if the other three players attended how would the bounty have sat? Vas wanted to know what went down in OH-RiF (Omni-Horron Research Facility). The piece of tech which shut the plant down, he was very interested in that. He said if the PC's could get something like that he could pay very well. Matter of fact any advanced Omni or Horron tech the PC's could get a hold of would be of significant interested to the VCL. The colonists are the future of Skalvil Vas assures the players and they will want to be on the right side of history.

Chief Benzen contacts Jones on his com unit. He wants them back up in the VTOL and find the watercraft which fled the scene with the remaining terrorists on board. They take off once again from the security tower rooftop hanger. After three hours combing the shores of the Skalvil Sea they locate the boat. It has been driven up on a rocky beach. Touching down the PC's give the boat a search where they find 5 bodies below decks. They all had their hands bound and were each shot in the back of the head. DNA scan reveals the victims to be citizens of Vanders, all have criminal records. Three have warrants for their arrest, but nothing that Omni Security-Vanders would spend any time or resources on. Pavlov recognizes their gang tattoos. They are Binary Dogs, a juiced combat gang operating out of Banter Concourse. Tracks from a six wheel ATV lead off into the defile. The frequent acid rain storms erase the tracks back into the stained Skalvil mud. Bring the bodies and the watercraft back says Chief Benzen. Omni Security wharf PS238. At the wharf the PC's get the boat identified as a cargo hauler belonging to Halo Shipping. One of many nondescript tugs used to move goods in and around the Skalvil Sea for outer dome colonists.

Chief thinks it's a good idea to pay the Binary Dogs a visit. Find out why five of their crew were found dead on a boat used by unknown terrorists. Club Synapse is where they can be found. A high end nightclub on the fifth floor of a seven story high rise. Under the violet red and neon blue of the Vanders various pedways the PC's arrive at the club. Unlike the Below Zero with union loyalists checking anyone coming in Club Synapse is a hopping, bustling scene of sweaty dancers and loud music. Pavlov spots some Binary Dogs at the bar. The PC's say they got ID's on five of their members recently deceased. They want to find out who did the deed. Maybe they should talk. The sophisticated, well dressed one tells them to wait. The other gang member in his chrome glasses and nylon track suit rattles his bling and sneers at the group. The flexing and cold staring continue between Jones and track suit until Mr. Sophisticated returns and tells the PC's to follow him. They leave the pulsing club floor and enter a flourescent white bathed hallway. After passing a couple of doors they enter an unused banquet hall. The only light is soft incandescent over a large black glossy table. Another well dressed man sits at the desk, his eyes giving off a green glow. Not just juiced, this gang banger is cyber enhanced. Three other track suit wearing Dogs stand off to the side in the gloom. Sophisticated goes around the table, whispers in his boss' ear and stands behind his chair. The PC's quickly pick up on the fact I start mentioning the thick concrete pillars interspersed through the otherwise empty, darkened room. When the referee starts detailing types of cover which may be available it is kind of an obvious tell trouble is just around the corner.

The PC's start in with their pitch. They know some of their boys have been whacked and they want to know who was behind it. Surely they could share some information and get to the bottom of it. Shiny Eyes gets pretty hot about Omni cops come asking questions. He pays good money to stay out of trouble with Omni Security. He's feeling he's got a laundry list of troubles he now needs to get sorted and he is going to get started with the PC's. The juiced Binary thugs make their move against the PC's. Fortunately for the PC's the gang members are all armed with melee weapons. Boosted as they are the Binary Dogs have a hard time absorbing auto pistol fire. Pavlov takes serious damage from throwing blades hurled from Shiny Eyes even after he lights him up with his pistol. As he and his lieutenant Sophisticated make a run for it steely-eyed Hernandez manages to take Shiny Eyes down. As Pavlov slumps over the table bleeding from the neck and chest Jones shoots down two of the gang bangers before they can close on him with electro-chucks and mono-filament whips. Hernandez isn't so lucky and takes some rapid slice and dice from a Binary Dog howling in a drug drenched freny. Jones puts him down with a few more shots while another gang member uses the pillars for cover scrambling into the dark. Jones and Hernandez make sure the wounded Binary Dogs never see the light of day with some additional shots. They scoop up Pavlov and a plastic bag on the table and stumble around for the nearest exit. Quickly finding a stairwell they make it outside and down to street level.

Chief contacts them asking what's going on. Wants to know if they got any answers or was their a dust up. He lets slip some details about Shiny Eyes. How does he know Shiny Eyes has a thick accent? Why is he so concerned whether he is dead or not? Chief tells them they better come in quick. He seems unconcerned that Pavlov and Hernandez are wounded. Instead of sending them straight to Medical he wants to see them in debriefing. Gives the key codes for a debriefing room on the fourth floor of the Omni security tower. The PC's have played way to many role playing games to know some shady shit is going down and put some pieces together. The fact that the plastic bag contains a small box with the Omni Sun logo just fuels their paranoia. The box contains seeds like the type supposed to be produced out at OH-RiF. The PC's figure Chief Benzen is taking Binary Dog money and for whatever reason things went south out at OH-RiF. Who was supposed to get rid of who maybe not so clear but the PC's have no plans currently to return to the Omni security tower. Instead they opt for a seedy hotel cube, The Flesh, and take a room on the second floor. With street access they feel a bit secure being able to watch their exits while they figure what to do next.

Traveling Circus of Classic Traveller: Obligatory Session Report #1

So there is this gang of Travellers. Rough sort. Gun toting heavies in the galactic backwater where corporations are the law and colonists try and pursue a better life.

Life is cheap and air, water and artificial sweetener are costly. Out of this Major Schmidt has managed to carve out a better deal than most on Skalvil. He's done this by providing a no questions asked security force for Omni Sun overseeing the peace and prosperity of Colonial Dome One.

Chief radioed in from HQ, his heavy joweled face speaking through the vid.

“Omni Horron Research Facility has been incommunicado. Missed a twenty four hour relay to Kazawan City. That and its pump facility appears to be off. Don't know for how long. The colonists are pissed of course. They pay a lot of credits for clean water. I want you out there ASAP. Find out why the facility isn't communicating and get the damn water turned back on.”

Schmidt knew it didn't help that OHRF (O-Rif) was three years behind on delivering the modified crops which can grow in Skalvil's thin, tainted air. The colonists complained it was all a scam to keep soaking them for clean water and indoor grows.

Chief heaved like a beached whale in the screen as he scanned reports Schmidt couldn't see. “Vanders Labor Group is already out there pounding at the gates looking for their water.”

Chief seemed pretty concerned about the situation. Before Schmidt had signed off the Chief had thrown in a 50 pound bag of Zucor on top of his regular pay to get it done. Schmidt never knew the Chief of being magnanimous.

That meant Hernandez was going to have to fly one of those retro-fitted aircraft used to get around Skalvil quickly. The air is really thin so fixed wing just doesn't get it done. With the tech Omni has at its disposal a standard grav shuttle is the way to go, but oh no, not when a few credits can be saved. Omni, in their infinite wisdom, instead elected to re-purpose regular VTOL craft used on the mining platforms on Xxcarvis with decommissioned grav engines. Dam tricky to fly and each Skalvil mechanic has their own ideas on how to keep them running. Schmidt would rather take an ATV, but that would take eight hours minimum to drive around the Skalvil Sea when the plane can have him on site in a half hour. Better take Pavlov too. Hernandez can't find the wet spot without Pavlov checking the charts. Jones and Saar would round out the squad. If the colonists started getting lippy the two ex-army hands tended to shoot real straight.

Schmidt, Pavlov, and Saar clambered aboard with their gear and filter masks while Jones put the last of the fusion tape on his repair work. Hernandez went through the final check and with a course laid in lifted off and out of the dome. It was a typical Skalvil morning. Driving acid rain obscuring the blood purple sky and the brown rugged landscape of the defile spread out into nothing. The black Skalvil “sea” below let Schmidt know they were on course and shortly they were over the prominent outcropping on the far eastern shore where OHRF sat. OHRF's control tower was broadcasting its regular warnings; “Entering restricted air space. Property of Omni Sun. Trespassing prohibited. Unauthorized landings will result in arrest, etc.” Circling the facility all the lights were on. The tower's beam sweeping the premise regularly. Why wasn't anyone home? Just as the chief said a contingent of colonists in their homemade enviro suits were demonstrating at the front gate. Schmidt quickly calculated they couldn't stay out their all day. Oxygen was expensive. The colonists would have to get satisfaction soon or they would need to head back to the dome or a nearby underground farm.

“Bring us down inside, right in front of the gate”, ordered Schmidt. “I want to let the dirt farmers know someone is in charge around here”. Hernandez brought the VTOL smartly down on the concrete pad inside the electrified fence and everyone piled out.

“Bargas is with them Major.” said Pavlov. Pavlov grew up in the dome and he recognized the union boss among the colonists. A tall man, his patchwork “skins” were well known to security personal. Bargas was tough, smart and the Skalvil dirt farmers loved him. The labor leader was calling out loudly to the squad.

“Ask him what he thinks he is going to accomplish out here.” Schmidt replied. “Don't forget to tell him the electrical fence is still live.” Pavlov didn't like to handle heavy firepower like Saar and Jones. With a body pistol tucked away he was the least intimidating looking of the bunch. His mesh security jacket swallowed up his narrow frame making him look like an overgrown child as he walked through the rain to the gate.

“What do you want Bargas?” Pavlov asked, looking through the ten foot high chain link fence.

“What do you think? I want my damn water! We're all paid up. Omni try to break our back, well, we won't let that happen.” Pavlov, unsurprised, could now see some rifles and other side arms being carried by some of the men. The twenty something colonists came packing.

“Well don't worry, that's why we're here. We'll get this all sorted.”

“You got four hours.”

“Four hours? You're kidding me, right? Something must be wrong with the pumps. If it was an easy fix it would've been done by now.”

“Bullshit. Omni's jerking our chain. You got four hours or we go in and fix it ourselves.” It was next to impossible to read Bargas' expression through the thick lenses and rubbery, articulating respirator, but his harsh voice was sounding desperate.

“Look, if you want it fixed that fast you are going to have to show me some love. You come up with some of your boys monthly dues and I'll see what I can make happen.”

“You do that Pavlov you got a deal. Don't forget I know where you live.”

Pavlov double timed it back to Schmidt and the rest of the squad standing under the shelter of the VTOL. “He says get the water flowing again in four hours and there won't be any trouble. I got him to agree to a piece of the labor coffers for the heavy lift.”

Schmidt gave a derisive snort and ordered the squad to the front door. Jones started whistling, “Love me some chedder, when Omni don't know even better.” He couldn't sing, but he knew Saar hated him singing so it was always worth it.

“Major, the access code doesn't work. What gives?” Saar looked over his shoulder at Schmidt. He had taken off his gloves and was punching in the code another time.

“Is it broken?” Schmidt asked.

“No, everything's powered up. It just keeps telling me invalid access code.”

“We don't have time for this Saar, take it apart and get the door open.”

Saar broke out his electronic tool kit, punched out the thick stainless screws and went to work on the wiring being the screen. With the hand-held running diagnostics Saar noticed it wasn't just an unauthorized code change. It seemed the code function was blanked out entirely. Regardless the magnetic locks released under his direction and one of the sturdy metal doors slid back. The soft, yellow glow of the recessed interior lighting was on. The reception area was only unusual by the lack of staff at the front desk. Jones swept the nearby rest rooms while Saar started punching the comm at the front desk calling out for personal.

“The plumbing works!” Jones smiled, hitching up his pants as he exited the Men's Room.

“That should mean there is only a problem with the pump,” concluded Schmidt. “Let's find access to the lower level. The filter and pump equipment should be there.”

“Which way,” asked Hernandez?

“That would be restricted information Hernandez,” replied Schmidt. “But there should be a lift near the center. We'll take the corridor straight ahead. Any luck raising the Director or any staff Saar?”

Saar just shook his head, “Everything is working fine Major. There's just no one answering.”

“This is strange.” said Jones.

The squad stalked the hall to the door at the end. Saar had to hack the electronic door lock just like the entry. On the other side the passage split three ways. Left, right and straight ahead. To the left down the corridor could be seen a sign for the computer room, to the right at the end of the hall a door to the communications center. Saar, with his electronic hand-held still out begged to check out the computer room.

“Let's go, we'll check it out.” said the Major. Saar once again had to hack the door, but by now he had figured out the programming and it took less then ten seconds with the hand-held. Banks of computer tapes hummed in the servers, uploading data which constantly streamed from the facilities different equipment.

“I won't be able to decode anything right now Major, but I can download the recent logs. Should be a lot of information what's been going on the last few days.”

“Do it” Schmidt knew Saar was more keen on downloading anything he could sell on the black market, but it still was a sensible move. It took ten minutes before Saar called it quits. His data storage drive stuffed with who knows what.

“I want to check out the comm room before we head to the pumps. I want to find some staff real soon.” Ordered Schmidt. Saar knew what to do so the squad gave him room and kept their weapons unslung. This time though instead of green lights and releasing mag locks Saar watched the hand-held pop and a violent surge of electricity coursed his arms. He yelled in pain and dropped the slagged electronic tool.

“Effing thing was rigged to do that!” Saar complained. He held his scorched hands between his legs rocking back in forth in pain.

“That door isn't opening now,” Jones stated the obvious, “but hey Saars, your in luck here is Medical.” Jones was grinning. The dangerous electrical short, while frying the mag locks on the communications door, released the door to the sick bay right near by.

“Fracking great!” hissed Saar.

“Check it out Jones, weapons ready.” ordered the Major. A quick sweep of the room found it empty besides being a functioning medical unit. Pavlov located a first aid kit and started treating Saar's burnt hands. That's how Pavlov noticed some of the cabinets had been rifled through. Chemical and drug testing equipment was scattered over the counter. Closer inspection showed someone had been testing Zucor, the hard to get and much desired sweetener the wealthy corporates had to have.

“Major, why would anyone be needing to test Zucor?” Pavlov pointed to the counter.

“I am sure I have no idea.” Schmidt replied. “Are you two done playing paddy-cake? Let's move.”

Pavlov took the lead and the squad exited out Medical into another long hall running left and right. The squad headed right towards the center of the complex and the elevator they could see. The Major brought up the rear while Hernandez hung back in Medical. The pilot wasn't the type to take the lead when the Major and his boys unslung their guns.

Schmidt felt like a flat-footed fool when at either end of the long corridor the electronic doors slid open revealing a pair of armed men leaning in with aimed carbines. It didn't stop him from charging the nearest attacker shotgun blazing. Jones and Saar followed their commander's lead like they've done hundreds of times before; shoot first, then again and again. Armed only with a pistol Pavlov hurled himself at the nearby elevator door hoping it was still active. The shotgun blast was deafening in the metal corridor. Saar's submachine gun barked and sprayed lead like rain drops on a tin roof and the crack of rifle and carbine fire lashed out. The trained army soldiers took down their opponents. Either sloppy in their execution or overly confident in getting the drop on the squad the work clad strangers wearing opaque filter masks lay groaning or unmoving on the floor. They had managed to tag Saar. He was bleeding badly. Schmidt quickly kicked the attacker's carbines away while Jones covered the other two shot at the other end of the hall. He noticed Pavlov had made the elevator in the mayhem and was descending to the second floor. Hernandez stuck his head out from Medical.

“We good?”

Classic Traveller: Returning to the ETU-A1215 Subsector

Wow, I cannot believe two years have passed since I took my first crack at running a game of Classic Traveller (link to private community but I'll let you in if your curious).

It would have continued to languish I'm sure, but Calvin & Hobbs, I mean Gobs & Hoblins, no that's not right; +Jason Hobbs of Hobbs & Friends of the OSR started whining like a teen about wanting to try more OSR games he never played before, including Traveller. Perfect, he would never know if I'm running it wrong. Seriously though, I once knew how he feels. I had my experience. Here was an opportunity to pass it on.

The initial adventure arc finished with a single survivor from a party of four experienced Traveller grognards. I asked this lone survivor if he was down for continuing and like all CT junkies  he was in. Hobbs is dragging some other OSR devotees along and it is now time to pick up where The Monolith from Beyond Space & Time last left us. 

So I start to hyperventilate a bit. The setting felt nice and containable two years ago because I knew what I was going to do; sci-fi horror. Players encounter a dangerous anomaly and let the carnage flow. No need to think about greater campaign implications cause most likely everyone will die. See that label "Ahenti" in the upper left of the subsector map? I have know idea what that means. I just wrote it cause I liked it when it popped into my mind two years ago. 

But now the chickens are coming home to roost. Now I have to maintain the weird horror science fiction role play with the same level of coolness that tMfBS&T infused. Can I still rely on the LBB's of CT to fuel another satisfying adventure arc filled with close, personal action against the backdrop of a galactic setting?

The Traveller Out of the Box series over at the Tales to Astound blog got me straight on Classic Traveller is not the Third Imperium. Classic Traveller is not an implied setting. Classic Traveller is about making the action where the PC's are and be about what they are doing. Those attractive thin black books sit mutely promising... what? The LBB's deliver on a core OSR concepts which TSR summed up nicely; "Tools for the Imagination!" Don't let us do your imagining for you I think they also said. This is your deal. This is your show. You have to bring it. I have a couple of days now to marinade my mind with all my favorite messed up sci-fi stuff. Then I have to laser focus all the star-spanning ideas into a tightly packaged shit show. 

The suggestion box is now open.

Classic Traveller Campaign Note Paper

I like to cobble together custom notepaper for my campaigns to record what happens during any particular game session. I'm really bad at keeping track of all the activities the PC's get themselves up to, and this helps make it more enjoyable.

This is the one I've created for my upcoming homebrew Traveller game; Traveller Session Notepaper

This link is on my Summonings page on the blog. I've added additional Traveller pages and I do tweak the format from time to time.