Hinkommen - Vehicles in the Scorched Earth campaign

I have added a file on vehicles to the Scorched Earth: Materials post. It is meant for use with GURPS, but is quite simplified. Like the other files it is not limited to game mechanics but also depicts the attitude of the wastelanders towards vehicles and their owners.

We are all courtiers now

A comment on social sites published by Zeit Online, sketching the effects of social sites on our perceptions of privacy, intimacy and "charisma". In German. Maybe it is time to reread Baltasar Gracián's The Art of Worldly Wisdom...

Ai Weiwei's exhibition in Munich

This is an impressive show at "Haus der Kunst", but then maybe I was duped. I even bought the catalogue, which probably makes me some kind of tool. Nevermind: I liked what I saw very, very much. It is forceful, funny and surprising. More information here and here.

Scorched Earth: Some Material

This post will be updated now and then with background information concerning my GURPS: Scorched Earth campaign. Mostly, this is stuff which someone living in the wastes could know if he lived in or close to the settlement depicted, or had a high merchant, armoury or area knowledge skill pertaining to the stuff described - and it may appear quite detailed. Nonetheless, this is surface information: Things a kindly stranger could find out in a few hours. The true secrets of these places and people will stay just that - secrets.

Mostly, this stuff is in German, but I will upload English versions when I have the time to translate. All files are on google docs, in pdf.-format. I make no profit from these things - apart from the joy of bashing things together and watching where the parts land - and neither should you.

Basics

How the world came to pass: Two voices tell the legend of the Fall.

A map of the world

Ein Glossar der Einoede: A few choice selections from the many sociolects, cants and tounges of the wastes. Also explains the "normal" take on some things after the Fall, like slavery, analphabetism, money and the like. The English version is up-to-date, and will be updated in the future.

Weiße Zonen: Do not go there. Because if you do, all your guardian angels can't follow you. The cursed places of the waste. In German.

A shopping list: This list puts a price to lots of things an explorer of the wastes might find useful, services rendered and artifacts pulled from the ruins. The law of supply and demand applies with a vengeance, prices will vary wildly from settlement to settlement, and the stocks of most traders deplete really fast.

Ruestungen der Oede: A chart and description of common ways to keep a person's body from harm, be it fists, blades or bullets as well as some opinions of notorious wasters, explorators and innocent bystanders on certain kinds of armor. Intended for use with GURPS, but with slightly changed values. In German.

Guns: A range of firearms suitable for use in the wastes. The stats are for GURPS, although I have tweaked them in favor of a higher accuracy - now it is possible to hit someone from across the room with a rifle. The stats are for guns in mint condition; the weapons the characters will come across normally have a higher malf and a lower acc.

Hinkommen: A treatise on vehicles in the wasteland, what to drive and why, how to trick it out and to pimp it and GURPS-stats so that you can take it out if the situation demands it. In German.

Plündern wie die Profis: A list of tables detailing valuable and not-so valuable finds in the ruins. Can be used as described, or just as an inspiration. In German.

Some new GURPS disadvantages: If your character ain't broken, he should be fixed. Here are some brand new dysfunctions to make your character's life interesting. The list will be updated when I think of new ways to limit a figure's usefulness and likability.

The powers that (want to) be

LAW: Headquartered in the shining city of Memphis, the judges expand their power year after year. In German.

Benefactors: An order of traveling doctors. In German.

Magnum Opus: The righteous will prevail. They must prevail, before the Almighty judges them. In German.

Deathdealers: Wherever their stripped-down dirtbikes go, death and mayhem are sure to follow. In German.

Yaddaheads: They'll sell you all the drugs you need for those freakish t-shirts you found in the ruins. The next day, they'll do their damnedest to shoot you because a butterfly told them to. The batshit crazy, barking mad doctor feelgoods of the wastes, in German.

Gorgons: While no one is quite sure whether they qualify as ferales or as gangers, everybody knows a story about the Gorgons' daring attacks and their ability to melt into the wastes and to move unseen among their foes. In German, some spoilers.

Going places

Blessing: A nice town just down the Vever from Holy Flame City. Enjoy all the amenities of the big city without the usual hassle, even if you are a wanted man. In German.

Chalice: The wastes have their share of desperate places - but here, this desperation is married to a great hope. In German, with a map.

Compassion: The second settlement in the Corridor and competitor to Mercy. In German, with a map.

Drop: In the middle of the howling Great White lies a small settlement, keeping the road between East and West open. In German, with a map.

Edjera: The pious are picking clean the bones of the old world, in the name of Allah, the All Merciful. In German.

Elene: A small camp of scavengers, close to the great necropolis of Chicago. It might not have a future, but some people will make sure that it's fun while it lasts. In German, with a map.

Five Rules: If you need a new gun, or new guns, or ammo to feed you guns, Five Rules is a good place to be. It might be a bit out of the way, though. In German.

Goats: Hope you like goats, there's not much else. Unless you start to turn some stones and use your eyes. In German.

Holy Flame City: They say that there are only three cities that matter, three cities that count. Holy Flame is one of them, and arguably the richest. In German.

Huron Beach: A small community close to Detroit. Expect low tech and rampant religious mania. In German, with a map.

Little Rock: A settlement of scavvies deep in the ruins of Little Rock. In German.

Mercy: An important settlement in the Corridor, home to 1200 souls and frequently used as a base by groups of explorers. In German, with a map.

Perfect: A very fitting name for the headquarters of the Yaddaheads, the wasteland's prime suppliers of fun-drugs and not-so-fun-drugs. Some people say it is in the middle of nowhere, which prompts many people to go nowhere fast. In German, with a map.

Pike City: The hub of trade in the far North, ruled by a hereditary dynasty even before the Fall. In German, with a map.

Point Transit: This is the gateway to the Far West, or to the Desert Heart, a bastion of LAW or a hot spot of Deathdealer activity east of the Great White - depending on your perspective.  In German, with a map.

Refugium: An isolated community of knowledge-seekers, a "monastery", some say. In German, with a map.

Tanktown: A place in the ruins of Detroit where they exchange your plastic trash for high-grade fuel! In German.

Tirespires: A place you don't want to be...but sometimes, one does not have a choice. In German, with a map.

White Tower: A community in the shadow of a large broadcasting tower, at one of the most important points of the Vever. In German, with a map.

A flash game

This is a nice headfuck and will take only about 15 minutes...But take your time. There is a lot to discover.

The Scour

Our heroes are still in the dark, dank underground. After a few hours of troubled sleep, the group picks up their gear and makes their way toward the area named "Testing Range" on their map. Ben and Carlos are still suffering from their wounds, but as Carlos cracks jokes again, he, at least, seems on the mend. The testing range is deep underground, its only access tunnel is 500 meters long. Also, it is booby trapped. Dan finds the claymore mine hidden in a makeshift barricade, and is nearly blown up when he tries to detonate it from a safe distance. Another blast wave rolls through the underground. The men look at the sagging ceiling of the tunnel, but the concrete holds - for now. Dan picks himself up. He has suffered some scratches and bruises: Ben chides him for playing butterfingers while he patches him up. They move on.
At the end of the tunnel, they find a large, closed bulkhead. Its surface looks corroded. Next to it, there is small console with a keypad. Ben examines it, and the little screen flickers to life, as a voice warns of imminent power failure and permanent shutdown of the door system. Cursing, Ben and Mal break out their electronics tools and work on the lock. A few seconds before the countdown runs out, the bulkhead groans and shivers and finally inches open - then it stops forever. The opening is just big enough to squeeze through.
Behind the door, wonders await. The room is nearly as large as Command Center 1, and its ceiling vanishes up in the darkness. The steps of the men echo in the large, dark space. The bulkhead has protected this room from the rust and rot: Only some dust is lying on the floor. But that is of secondary interest. In the middle of the floor, on a cross between of an operating table and altar, surrounded by limp robotic manipulators, lies the Scour - The UAV attack drone Predator Mk VI. The predator drone shimmers white in the darkness, its pristine surface untouched by the ravages of time. The letters "USAF" are stenciled on its flank, ancient runes promising swift destruction. The predator points upwards, into the darkness, as if a single word or gesture could command it to burst to the skies. In front of this imposing artifact, a single computer console stands like a pulpit. Its monochrome screen flickers dimly in the darkness, and an ancient needle printer is attached to its side.
This is a tremendous find. The industrial robots alone are worth a fortune, the tools, containers and machines on the walls and surrounding the launch pad speak of high tech long lost to most of humanity. Ben fiddles around the workstation: Its monitor is broken, but the printer still provides a working interface to the machine. José and Mal have a look around the drone: It seems to be build for heavy combat, with multiple hardpoints and a stubby 20mm chaingun protruding from its nose. After a while, the printer stops, and the group ponders the meaning of the yellowing strips of paper. The Scour seems to be close to operative, it just needs some fuel. There seem to be some fixed options how to employ it - and during the Fall, someone tried to disable this dangerous war machine, but failed. His maudlin letter is one of the last working files on the workstation and addresses a legacy-team - whatever that may be.
The Scour presents an unique opportunity, and the explorers debate how to make the most of it. There is the temptation of cutting the beast loose, just to see what it can do and to become a warlord, a king, with this tremendous weapon enforcing one's authority. But how would one maintain this weapon? Mal's proposal is taken up - sell the thing to the judges in Memphis, as LAW would be able to use this kind of technology and tends to honor contractual obligations.
The men leave the Scour on its strange altar and search for an exit from the underground.
When they finally reach the surface, their environment has completely changed. Not only that they have appeared at a different point of the airfield: While they were exploring the depths, a thick fog rolled in. The ancient wrecks and rows of flying machines are shrouded in white mist, their shapes distorted, vanishing and appearing like ghosts. The creaking of the rusting fuselages and wings, the distant howling of wild dogs greets the group.
After getting their bearings, they tortuously make their way through the jumble of aluminum and steel and reach the lip of the depression. As they finally make out the shapes of their vehicles in the fog, Dan stops the group: Others have been here, their tracks are all over the place! The men ready their weapons, spread out and cautiously approach their cars. There is no ambush, but someone has worked over their cars with spears and crowbars - and left a skull and a necklace of human fingerbones on each hood. The Pla'thun have found the group. The solid armor plating has prevented the attackers from doing irreparable harm to the engines or entering the cars and plundering the group's stash, but while Mal's full-body tires are still whole, Ben's normal tires have been slashed.

Now what? Mal's tires would fit on Ben's car, so why not put them on, go to Mercy, get spares and return? Mal resolutely rejects the idea as crazy talk - leaving his car here to get Ben's car to safety on his own tires, tires he paid a fortune for, not to speak of the expensive modification for his car? And this while his own is slowly taken to bits by the Pla'Thun? No way, no way at all! Ben's temper flares, and for a moment he contemplates just shooting Mal or siccing Carlos after him. Mal senses the change in mood and his hands inch towards his Ingrams. The two face each other in the mist, and the threat of violence hangs heavy in the air. Dan senses that something has to give, or the expedition will end in bloodshed. He grabs a grenade from his belt an raises his voice. "Attention! Crazy man with a grenade coming through! Everyone calm down, or nobody is going home. I saw some tires in one of the hangars. Maybe they fit. I say let's go there and have a look and let's shoot each other later." This display of rabid common sense calms down the two car-owners. Ben and Carlos stay with the vehicles, while the rest stalks back to the airfield to look for those tires. (Some authorial liberty taken with the preceding section)
Two hours later, the three return with four tires. The things are not exactly up to spec, and mounting them will be be a hassle - but it beats shooting each other over four tires. Ben and Mal get to work, while the rest keeps lookout for the Pla'Thun. The mechanics are working on the last tire, when the ferales come into view. The females approach the lip of the depression, creeping from one hiding hole to the next. An attack is imminent: José and Dan rush back to the cars, where Ben fastens the last screws on his jeep. Everyone enters the vehicles, the two engines start to life, and they are off, leaving the Pla'Thun behind.

The voyage back to Mercy appears as a cakewalk: The explorers just have to move east until they meet the route of the Corridor - no need to look for vanishing landmarks. In the evening of the second day, the familiar office tower of Mercy appears in the distance. But rest is denied to the adventurers. Father Ataxerxes (who is very happy to have his chemsniffer back) tells them of two dozen mercenaries under the command of one Dread McQuinn, who came through Mercy just two days ago. The were looking for Ben, and him specifically. While the good father was able to hoodwink them into going further north, to Compassion, it is just a matter of time until the so-called Black Flag Mercy Company will return. Mal does not like the involvement of this group at all. He has met them in the past: They are dangerous professionals, as well equipped as a judge's entourage but lacking a judge's compassion and scruples. To mess with these hardened killers would invite disaster. Ben seems to have an inkling why these consummate manhunters have been sent after him, but he does not tell - and the others do not pressure him to share his suspicions.
Although the priest offers refuge to the group, at least for the night, everyone knows that the explorer's presence puts Mercy in great danger. The men wake the mechanics of Jackson's Garage and purchase working tires for Ben's jeep. After hurried farewells to the good father, the two vehicles roar off into the night, leaving the homely lights of Mercy behind them.

People met:
- none

People met their demise:
- none, although Ben is still wounded and Dan suffers from some bruises and cuts. Carlos leaves the group in Mercy, taking some of the group's equipment with him.

Man of the match:
- the crazy man with the grenade

S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Clear Sky

A short time ago I visited an old favorite of mine: S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Shadow of Chernobyl. A few days later, I rebooted S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Clear Sky. Both are great, but I want to talk about why I think that Shadows is better than Clear Sky. Clear Sky is the second game in the series and the prequel to Shadows: You play a stalker, a treasure hunter infiltrating into the forbidden zone around Chernobyl, where a strange, second incident after the meltdown in 1986 created physical anomalies, deadly radioactive eruptions and weird creatures. You haunt this desolate landscape, hoping to find a way of ending the eruptions in the zone, which become more frequent and violent. During the game, you set off the events which will take place in Shadow. And you shoot other denizens of the Zone. A lot. Also, it is mandatory to mention the following when talking about S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Strugatsky, Tarkowsky, Roadside Picknick...Let's just say that this game is rooted in Russian culture, and it shows.
In comparison to other shooters, both games offer a very dense and remarkably bleak atmosphere: The levels are vast and often you spend an inordinate amount of time wandering through the ruins and forests without meeting anyone or anything else. The levels looks gorgeous and make the most of current graphics engines. This pervasive sense of solitude informs the games and makes them unique. At times it feels more like a very well implemented simulation of urban exploration than a standard shooter. The plot supports this bleakness: There is no Dr. Gordon Freeman in the ruins of Prypiat.
The first part of Clear Sky plays a lot like Shadow, but with one difference that appears like a weakness to me. To progress the plot, you are forced to conquer various bases in a large swamp for your faction, the scientists of clear sky. This feels a bit like a large capture-the-flag scenario. Instead of carefully exploring the swamp (which is a very well designed level), you are rushing about, trying to help your buddies. This hectic style of gameplay reduces the atmosphere somewhat, and if you try to visit the swamp later on, the game will try to get you back on the rails of its plot by plastering you with eruptions: The sky turns red, a counter appears, and off you go, running for your life to gain some kind of shelter. And hopefully you learn your lesson and gratefully return to the next stop in the plot which the game has prepared for you.
The middle part of the game is very well designed, although you are forced on lots of fetch quests, and revisiting some places featuring prominently in the first game is great fun and creates the feeling that the Zone is indeed a living, changing place. Again, the main plot features much stronger than in Shadow, and thus the most attractive point of the game, exploring the large, rambling levels creating the Zone, suffers. Also, you will be running back and forth a lot if you want to maintain and upgrade your gear: Selling loot to the Zone's merchants is the definition of slaving for The Man - they'll pay you in pennies for the stuff you lug around, and demand premium prices for their services. This means scooping up every piece of equipment you find and dragging it to some base or other if you do not want to run around in thin slices of kevlar grouped around large holes. So you will move around alot but not necessarily to new places.
It's the final part of Clear Sky which bugs me the most. Suddenly, the game becomes a complete rail shooter. You travel through a vast, deserted city, but unlike the corresponding level in Shadow - the brilliant recreation of Prypiat - you are taken firmly by the hand. There are scenes where an infinite number of opponents spawn until you have solved some tactical problem. I did not like that at all - it destroys the feeling of moving in a desolate and barren zone of exclusion.
Those who know Shadow may contend that this is not quite different from the last hour of the first game, where you are also set on rails and shown around the Chernobyl reactor, while passing an interminable number of jump gates and ambushes. But this was after the point where many first-time gamers of Shadow would be confronted with the bleak endings of the game: If you bet your fate on the wish granter, the rails a thankfully rather short.
Clear Sky is a great game: But by comparing it with its predecessor (which still looks very good on high-end machines), it becomes clear that it sacrificed some unique qualities. The Zone is a unique setting and begs to be explored on its own terms - putting the player on rails to follow a plot detracts from this experience, as is the attempt to bind the player to a faction. I think the story that Clear Sky has to tell is quite good, especially as it foreshadows (ahem) Shadow. But in this case, atmosphere trumps plot.