By Kerey McKenna.
After deciding to use my “shelter in place” time to dust off my RPG books and amuse myself and some friends with a game of Space 1889, it was now time to meet via web conference and play the game.
What follows is the story that my players and I created over the course of a few hours, weaving together my general plot, the random chance of dice rolls, and some improvisational acting all around. As I mentioned in Part 2 of this series, I do not want to get into the weeds of describing the rules and system of the game, and I must admit I was so nervous about running this new game I did not think to record the video conference or note the specific numbers on the decisive dice rolls, just their success or failure and the effect they had on our shared narrative.
Our story began with Hazel the Gunslinger Gadgeteer and Reginald, wayward aristocrat raised by fierce giant birds, on a steamship entering San Francisco harbor. In addition to the sea and rail traffic of the bustling port city, dirigibles land and depart from an aerodrome adjacent to the bay. Although this would be Reginald’s first time on American soil, his reputation preceded him as he had made quite an impression at a high society party in the Kingdom of Hawaii. With some epic “Pygmalion” style tutoring from Hazel, the long lost aristocrat was re-introduced to the world. While his manners were still a bit odd, it turned out that there is some compatibility between wild bird law and Victorian etiquette: chiefly defer to the elders with the most plumage on their heads, females are impressed by dancing ability, and puff up your chest and stand your ground if another male acts aggressively towards you. Despite, or perhaps because, he knocked out a wealthy planter’s son with a swift kick to the head during a duel, Reginald had become quite the cause celebre. So much so that The San Francisco Examiner had offered to fund Reginald’s expedition to Mars in exchange for exclusive rights to the story.
Meeting the press team from the Examiner almost ended with disaster when the blinding flash from a staff photographer confused Reginald coming down the gangplank and in a panic he bowled over the reporter. Next he almost started a fight with the staff photographer, who turned out to be Fritz, a Venusian lizard-man recently immigrated from the Kaiser’s offworld colonies. Fortunately Hazel was able to de-escalate the situation and begin proper introductions between Reginald and the attractive girl reporter that he had bull-rushed. Her name was Patricia, and her “Uncle Willy” had gotten her a job as a society reporter at the family paper, but she was hoping to become a stunt girl reporter like her heroine Nellie Bly. Because I was playing the character she probably sounded like someone doing a very bad Katherine Hepburn impression.
With introductions properly made and Reginald talked down from a lamp post that he had perched himself upon, the party made their way to a private steam-driven coach. After some small talk, they were surprised to find that the carriage was steaming past the offices of the Examiner, the carriage doors were locked from the outside, and they lost consciousness as the interior was pumped full of knockout gas.
When they finally wake up, they find themselves aboard a stately lounge car on the “DM RAILROAD,” a villainous monologue coming over the speaking tube. The monologue was courtesy of robber baron Damien Montebank. He explained that Hazel, Reginald, and Patrica had all wronged him. Hazel had been excessively curious about Montebank's mining operations. Patricia had written an unflattering article about the coming out party for Montebank's niece, not even sparing the poor girl's dress design which, in all fairness, was rather bizarre. Reginald had the unmitigated gall to be the son of the woman who Montebank had desired, but had been too shy to talk to. She had therefore married Reginald's father, a man who had actually courted her. As for poor Fritz, the NPC camera-lizard, he was just collateral damage.
Montebank informed our heroes that they were on his private train speeding through the California wilderness. To escape with their lives they would have to go from car to car clearing the challenges and traps he had set for them along the way. Barbed wire had been placed along the roof to prevent them from skipping any cars, and the car couplings had been thoroughly locked so they couldn’t simply uncouple their car to escape.
As I mentioned in Part 2, “railroading” refers to a design in video games and RPGs in which the players have little to no actual agency in the scenario. My players, both old hands at RPGs (David even hosts his own weekly game via web conference), immediately picked up on the idea that this was a rather literal spoof of a railroading scenario and went about doing what RPG players do best...DERAILING the carefully laid plans of the game master. They destroyed Montebank’s speaking tube before he was done with his villainous monologue.
After discovering that some of the bottles of liquor in the lounge car were poison, they proceeded to the next car, the bar car. There Montebank presented them with an old logic puzzle: Three jugs sit on the bar. One, which holds eight cups of water, is full. The two empty jugs beside it have capacities of three cups and five cups respectively. The players are instructed to put a jug holding exactly four cups of water on a scale. If they have the correct amount, the electronic lock on the door to the next car will open. If incorrect, whether by too much or too little, the scale would set off a bomb. You know, like in Die Hard 3.
Before presenting the puzzle to the players, I had been sure to study the mathematical process for solving the jug problem and even had a computer program they could use to simulate pouring the water from jug to jug ready to go.
However Hazel (Melissa) cut right through the Gordian knot by using her mechanical skills to deftly remove the bomb from the scale and re-purposing the explosives to just blow up the electric lock. Then, before proceeding to the next car, Reginald (Dave) was sure to also destroy the speaking tube in this car.
Moving on to the next car, this time a simple box car, they found their path blocked by two large guard dogs. Instead of engaging the dogs in combat or trying to charm the beasts, Hazel went back to the first car, used the lethal liquor to poison some food which she then fed to the dogs. With the dogs quickly incapacitated, the players moved to the next car and were greeted by burly hired goons.
With a mechanical whir, Hazel’s prosthetic mechanical hand snapped open to reveal a revolver. Her first shot at the charging goons had enough stopping power to take one of them right out of the fight. Reginald rushed the bruisers, letting out a fierce bird war cry, which did nothing to unsettle them as they did not speak “Bird” and thus could not comprehend his threat to upend their nests and smash their eggs. Fortunately Reginald’s bird-based fighting style of powerful kicks and head butts was very effective in the melee. He was supported by Fritz the camera lizard, who though mild-mannered, acquitted himself quite well using his sharp claws. Hazel fired her “hand gun” again but this time the shot went wide, and sadly Patricia was of no use as the kidnapped heiress reporter was trying not to faint. Reginald, having dispatched his first opponent, was able to rush to Hazel’s defense and body slam the goon that was trying to charge her. Finally Hazel ended the combat by filling another goon full of lead and the last goon full of fear (because her threats were uttered in English and not Bird).
Making their way towards the engine they discovered their tormentor Damien Montebank trying to escape the train by launching a one man dirigible. Before the villain could leave the launch platform (presumably to shake his fist and promise to get them the next time), Hazel fired into the hot air envelope slowing his ascent. Reginald charged for the dirigible basket, again uttering a fierce bird war cry. The fierce cry shook Montebank to his core because even though he didn’t speak Bird the intent of the fit young man charging him with hate in his eyes was clear enough. Reginald leapt up to the dirigible basket, pulled the craven robber baron from the flying machine, threw him down to the launch platform and thrashed him to within an inch of his life.
The young reporter exclaimed that this would be a rousing story for the Examiner and that Montebank would be brought in to the authorities for daring to kidnap...Patricia Hearst.
So that was how I entertained my friends for an afternoon. As I said this is the story that we created. The actual playing of it involved a lot of improvisation and consultation with the rule book about what dice a player would have to roll to accomplish a certain stunt or attack. I doubt I would have even made any attempt to document our session if I had not been planning to write these articles. All things considered, I think it went well, and someday in the not too distant future we can all get together in person and have another game. My RPG books for this game alone contain the potential for years of stories set on a steampunk Earth, the dense jungles of Venus, or the red sands of Mars.
Hopefully our next game will be in person. Maybe we can wear steampunk costumes and I can serve Victorian-themed food and drink.
After, all the shelter in place orders will probably only last <checks notes> “1d20”* more days.
Kerey McKenna is a contributing reviewer to Nerds who Read and SMOF for the annual Watch City Steampunk Festival in Waltham, MA. Check it out at www.watchcityfestival.com.
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Photo Credit(s): YouTube
*-"1d20" is RPG-speak for "Roll one twenty-sided die."