It's dark down here.  Dark and cold, except where the continents are eating each other, and there it's fucking boiling.  Black smokers vomit into the ocean, and around it swarm monsters- tube worms the size of your leg, angler fish able to swollow you whole, squids... you don't want to think about the squids. 

You hitched up for a five year jag down the Trench, where the sun never reaches.  You went under the knife, got a genepatch full of fish DNA so your enzymes don't crap out and your blood runs with natural antifreeze.  A new gland in your next secretes something that keeps the pressure from giving you siezures.  Your eyes are hodded over with a set of protictive membrances, and shined from behind to catch a photon's worth of light.  You have a few extra cones in there too.  You see new colors, and the near IR looks gross, a putrifying purple, but you can see the smokers through the water, see the station's reactor cooling fins.  When the lock floods, your sinuses fill up with saline gel to keep the water from squashing your skull, and your lungs and guts just collapse- but that's fine, because the gills in your sides open up, and you don't breathe.  It's just liek dorwning, every time.  Coming back to drydoc in the station is worse though.  Fish out of water.  Your gills gape, trying to filter water that isn't there, while your lungs unstick and expand, lubricated by something like mucus so they don't close up permenatly.  Your skin is getting thicker too, as the genhack replaces your epidermis with something better adapted to this alien shore- darker, oilier, slicker. 

They say it’s completely reversible- they debug your DNA when your haul is over, and your old skin grows back.  They take out the glands, the gills, the eye membranes, the fluid regulators, and you’re human again.  Until then you’re a wetback, a fish man, a Deep One, a lost soul claimed by the sea. 

In the station, the pings and pops and condensation dripping, it’s enough to drive you nuts.  The lowest bidder built it, and you know that one bad seam, one faulty molecular join and a million tons of water squashes the thing flat, smashing you to goo, before you even know what’s happening. Why is it so small?  Would it have killed them to make it a bit bigger?  Sardine a fewer number of techs and mechanics and project managers into it?  Sometimes, the claustrophobia drives you Outside.  Outside… it’s a different kind of stress.

You learned early to keep you lights off.  Light in the Trench means Food.  But with your extra cones, you can see well enough- bioluminescence was the evolutionary fashion of the epoch. 

The Trench can kill you thousands of ways- boiled alive in an eruption, eaten by something horrific, crushed in a mudslide, or lost to deep hypnosis, just staring off into the black depths until your mind just… goes away.  Humming loudly into the darkness through your modded voicebox keeps the abyss from staring too hard into you.  Most of the time.

But you’ve got company, right?  The psyche designers claim to have perfectly balanced the psychologies of the crew the same way the station is designed to hold up under this kind of pressure even with a surface level atmosphere inside.  Saftey in numbers.  Sanity in numbers.  Just take your meds, do your job, and in five years down the well, you’re rich.

But for all the native dangers of the Trench, isn’t it just like humans to import their own horrors. 

Hell is other people.

Rundown- a deep sea station inhabited by biogenetically modified deep-adapted amphibious humans operating under enormous literal and psychological pressure when… something goes wrong.  The AI (named ‘Cartwright’) which runs the station has started to flake out, and the antipsychotic and antistress drugs it dispenses are… a bit off.  According to the surface, everything is running according to specs, and everyone just needs to double-down their REM inducers and stick to the schedule.  Structure and sound management is what’s needed!  Oh, and we need to move up the timetable a bit- yearly accounting issues, you understand. 

The truth is, the crew is going crazy- getting more obsessive, paranoid, hateful, and careless.  Something has to give.

The PC’s  plus a few others (to bring the number of characters up to 10 or so) constitute the Crew.  Other characters might visit the station on occasion (a Corporate QC expert… a shrink…a technical expert… some subjockey stopping by for a visit). 

Like The Shab Al-Hiri Roach it’s GM’less with resolving scene-framing power.  Like The Shab Al-Hiri Roach it uses dice for resolving conflicts for preset stakes, and uses cards to mix things up, complicate things, and throw things into chaos. 

I should note at this point, that this isn’t an effort to produce a saleable commercial game… I’m ripping too much setting from the novel Starfish and too many mechanics and style from The Shab-Al-Hiri Roach.  I’d be happy with something playable.

Anyhow…

Characters have four Stats, each with a unique descriptor:

Guile- how sneaky, clever, and manipulative you are.
Force-  how direct, physically adept, and violent you are.
Expertise- how skilled you are at your job and general technical matters.
Drive- how motivated you are. 

You have four dice- a d4, a d6, a d8, and a d10- to assign to these Stats. 

You also have four Pools, each loosley associated with one of the stats:

Paranoia (Hearts, Guile)- how suspicious and fearful you are of your fellow crewmembers.
Hate (Clubs, Force)- how angry and filled with rage you are towards your fellow crewmembers.
Obsession (Diamonds, Expertise)- how neurotically obsessive and compulsive you’ve become.
Doom (Spades, Drive)- how close to disaster and risk and misfortune you operate.

Distribute 10 points amongst these pools at start of play.

Finally, you have Control, the ‘score’ for the game.  The more in Control you are, the more authority you have (high control lets you veto things you don’t like, break ties, and decide things in the context of the game).  If you’re still in Control at the end, you win.  Control is wagered in conflicts- when you frame, you can wager up to 5 points, when you’re just playing along, only 1.  If you’re on the wining side of a conflict- by the dice- then you double your wagered control, otherwise, you lose it. 

During a scene, someone frames it, indicates who else is involved (PC’s and Others), one card (from a standard deck with jokers in) is drawn, stakes are set, and play flows.  Based on the way the scene is framed, and the actions described, one Trait’s die is used to resolve the conflict- high die wins. 

After the stakes are set, the drawn card is compared to the total for the relevant pool linked to the card’s suit.  If under, the character experiences some kind of freak-out related to the pool.  If higher, then the pool increases by 1 point.  If you Freak Out, you lose 1 Control. 

Face cards let you push someone else’s buttons- blowing off steam by making someone else crazier, transferring points from your pools to their pools.  Jacks let you shift 1 point, Queens 2, Kings 3.

You can draw more than one card if you want- risking a freak out- but getting an additional die to roll in the conflict.  The die is based on the suit drawn, and if the same as the base die for the conflict, gives you another of the same type.  Work in how these traits collaborate to produce a coherent course of action.  (example- using Force + Guile might be a violent ambush.  Expertise + Drive might let you get a better service review and a raise when you really need the money).  Drawing a second (or third… or fourth) card also causes you to wager an additional point of Control as part of the escalation.

Winning a conflict lets you reduce involved pools by… oh… say 3 points.  Losing a conflict increases the linked pool by 1 point. 

And… that’s the bones of it.  Cram three to five characters into a can on the bottom of the ocean, and see what happens. 

Without the evocative events, opportunities, and commands of Roach or the deliciously dark setting of Pemberton, I don’t know if this would work… perhaps with a series of Events (or a collection of Events which can be picked and chosen to make up the game) as well as some NPC characters to introduce at various stages…

But this is the gist of it… this is what happens when I’m reading an awesome game and an awesome novel at the same time, and they sort of trainwreck in my brain.

-Ben 

 

Jokers!

What the hell do jokers do?

-B

Major breakdown of station equipment.

Major change in mission of the facility

Play to some trigger end game track like in With Great Power

Any of a variety of things.

Perhaps they indicate things are starting to spiral, and Cartwright is going bonkers, the meds are really screwed up, and so each Joker drawn indicated a doubling in all gains in bad pool points.

-B

A thought I had in the shower this morning- as in Roach , you declare the target for your card before you draw it, and if you freak out, this is the person (or people) who are on the receiving end. 

Should you get more dice for freaking out?

Not sure.

Here's the 1, 2, 3's I have so far...

1) A player frames a scene- likely doing so to take advantage of his strong Traits- and sets the Stakes.

2) Participants are nominated, NPC's assigned, and volunteers welcomed into the fray

3) Bets of Control are made.

4) Cards are aimed, and then drawn.

5) The effects on the crazy-pools are assessed, and any freak-outs determined.  Narration frames the conflict before it is resolved.

6) Dice are rolled

7) If desired, additional cards can be drawn to get more dice (each adding 1 to the bet) with running narration describing what this means.

8) Results tabulated, and winners get final narration narrate.

Question- is there enough different kinds of stuff going on at the bottom of the ocean to make this more than a boring DOA?

-B

The reason the targeting thing works in The Roach is because the cards are balanced about 2:1 in favor of something bad happening to your target, but a third of the time something good happens to them instead.  Something to keep in mind. 

I need to read Starfish - it sounds really cool. 

Jason wrote:
The reason the targeting thing works in The Roach is because the cards are balanced about 2:1 in favor of something bad happening to your target, but a third of the time something good happens to them instead.  Something to keep in mind. 

I need to read Starfish - it sounds really cool. 

I think ripping off is a little harsh, and for what it's worth you have my encouragement.  It's not like I was shy about acknowledging my influences in The Roach - The Mountain Witch, Polaris, etc.  If my game inspires yours, that's high praise. 

Thanks!

Roach is doing cragy things to my gamebrain right now- it's the first time I've ever liked a no-GM game.

And if you want to read Starfish, I found it and its sequels online under the Creative Commons here.

Up on level from that link, you can get an HTML version- that's what I'm reading.

-Ben

Back on track, step 7 is where your gold is from my POV - if you can make additional card draws necessary for success or even just very tempting, and the cards themselves drive play, you've got endless interesting fun.  I imagine cascading failures where things get worse and worse as players willingly amp up the trouble. 

Jason wrote:
Back on track, step 7 is where your gold is from my POV - if you can make additional card draws necessary for success or even just very tempting, and the cards themselves drive play, you've got endless interesting fun.  I imagine cascading failures where things get worse and worse as players willingly amp up the trouble. 

I felt inspired enough to 'shop a 'cover' for the imaginary game from stock images:

[img=http://img306.imageshack.us/img306/1969/uncerpressure2fv2.jpg]

-Ben

Or rather...

[img=http://img306.imageshack.us/img306/1969/uncerpressure2fv2.jpg]

-Ben

[img='http://img306.imageshack.us/img306/1969/uncerpressure2fv2.jpg[/img]

-Ben

Damnit!

-B

Here's a new version of the image.

-B

[edited to change the image to a link at the author's request - RE]

As a player both enthusiastic about and terrified of Dark Things in Trenches, I'm (probably overly) enthused about the idea of this project. It sounds like there's plenty of things that can go horribly wrong; you just need to isolate your variables. Perhaps an efficient idea to affect play (read: ruin the characters' minds) is to categorize the malfunctions while keeping in mind that magical 2:1 game effect (hereafter to be referred to by me as the "Roach Ratio").

Genetic Alteration: Perhaps the code isn't merely a dormant modification... maybe it's adapting to your character, for good or ill.

Medication Alteration: Maybe the meds make you faster or smarter... and finally you see your crewmates for what they really are.

Monster Attack: Cthulhoids are the home team, and they're playing to win.

Equipment Malfunction: Great for the uniting the party with a common goal... for the moment.

Maybe there could also be hidden goals drawn, which are revealed scene-by-scene as players vie amongst each other for personal gain, and maybe (just to make the ripoff complete) you can "swallow the roach" and stop trying to fight THE DEEP for control over your mind. Maybe the ocean (or the monster in the ocean) has issued The Call. If you accept the Call, you get the toys... and go Bona Fide Nuts.

Just a few thoughts... I wanna play. :)

-J.

I read Starfish over the holiday and liked it a lot!  I'd be interested in seeing you "stat up" a couple of the characters in Under Pressure terms.  I think you'll need to be really clear about what effect you are going for - do you want true horror at 400 atmospheres, or evil science conspiracy, the blackest humor, what? 

I'll just throw out that you need to find a way to evoke the claustrophobia of the setting, maybe by the arrangement of the play space.  Maybe you have to be in physical, shoulder-to-shoulder contact with another player unless you are outside Beebe. 

Oh man- actually using play space to push the claustrophobia- that's effing brilliant.

Here's something that I've been chewing on...  a Roach game has structure by virtue of the pre-programmed Events (with the possibility to collaboratively write a few more, if you wanted to keep going with a Roach game)... for UP, I was thinking about Locations which the Framer gets to pick (picking places where he has the best chance to kick ass, and his enemies have the worst chance), and during the Framing stage, a Complication card is drawn which adds uncertainty (backed by mechanics) to the scene.  Obviously, to keep from having to do something as hard as design a deck of cards, I'd have to come up with a way to use the standard deck for this, but I like the 'best laid plans' aspect, where the Framer might have a good idea how the scene should go, but then draws the Ace of Spades which means an Attack by a Rival Station (or whatever).  Locations like 'Sunken Nuclear Sub' and 'Suspiciously Alien Artifact' and 'Black Smoker Country' and 'The Chasm' and 'The Laser Nets' and whatnot.  Complications like 'Sabotage!' and 'Monster Attack' and 'Shocking Revelation'... 

Some additional thoughts on the 'setting'. 

The Station (need a name) is run by Cartwright, the amiable AI programmed to run the automatic systems and keep the Crew sane.  But Cartwright was built by the lowest bidder, and is missing a few security patches, and so has gotten buggy.  I had the notion that scenes could be framed with the PC's in Cartwright's psyche-booth having a 'session' with the AI while it ran Counselor on them-

"It ain't my fault the Doc's samples got contaminated, but the bastard kept blaming me!  He's so paranoid, the old bastard!  He's always in my goddamn space, always riding me!"

"When did these most recent problems with Dr. Klien begin?"

"Last workshift, at the laser nets..."

Actually, I was thinking about several of these stances which could reflect the way the scene is constructed...

The Crew are all specialists in some area- biology, engineering, underwater tactical operations, psychodynamics... whatever.  The Station is a worst-case example of a public/private partnership, with conflicting interests, lowest bidder engineering, and hidden agendas.

Like Roach things should go horribly out of control, and like Roach the winner is the player with the most Control when Rescue arrives (after everyone has their scenes and a certain number of Locations are used)- everyone else gets arrested, locked up for neural rewiring, or shot trying to escape or what have you.  The one in Control gets to narrate the return to the surface. 

Here's a mechanical question- should there be a bonus for 'freaking out' if a card comes up lower than one of your scores?  Or should the die you get to roll because you drew the card be the mechanical bonus before-the-fact?

-Ben

Ben, I love the sound of this idea. Your post inspired me to look up the Roach website and now it's on order.

As for cards, there is an option out there. A fellow in Germany wrote an excellent Magic: The Gathering card editor and distributed it as freeware. Wizards eventually sent him a cease and desist letter so he pulled it from the web, but there are still *ahem* copies floating around. Since it was freeware and you're not using it to create MTG cards, I say no foul.

Stop by your local geek emporium and pick up a couple of packs of plastic card protectors. Use a correctly sized deck of standard playing cards or pick up 100+ common MTG cards for  < $0.10 each. Use the editor to create some stylish, good looking cards for playtesting, color print, cut them out and slip each into a plastic protector with a card to provide stiffness and a uniform, opaque backing. Works like a charm.

Bailywolf wrote:
Here's a mechanical question- should there be a bonus for 'freaking out' if a card comes up lower than one of your scores?  Or should the die you get to roll because you drew the card be the mechanical bonus before-the-fact?

Jason wrote:

Bailywolf wrote:
Here's a mechanical question- should there be a bonus for 'freaking out' if a card comes up lower than one of your scores?  Or should the die you get to roll because you drew the card be the mechanical bonus before-the-fact?

If you are following the Roach model, you must freak out, and you are rewarded for it in a powerful way (in The Roach the highest die size is reserved for this special case, and can't be gained any other way).  You should mechanically encourage dangerous, unstable, out of Control behavior.  I'm not sure the best way to do that, but you don't want to reward the status quo.

It's something you should playtest (even roughly) both ways.  Actually, it's great to have the flexibility, since you can fine tune the level of instability based on where you place the bonuses.  I suspect that one is obviously better than the other but I can't tell you which.

...which reminds me that you could also use the point of attack or bonus size as a pacing mechanic.  Early in the game, no bonus and no encouragement.  Later in the game, small bonus.  Endgame, huge bonus and massive instability. 

Using the Roach model (and as a powerful endgame), perhaps there should be an event that triggers Endgame akin to a Communications Blackout. Though the players know that one person wins, the characters don't know that; and it'd be mighty difficult to avoid Freaking Out when comms suddenly go dead. Any mechanics involving surface communication fail.

There's any number of ways communications can be severed: severe inclement weather, Cartwright turning on its' crew (for its' own good, of course), sabotage by a character that's already Freaking Out, monsters eating the comm systems, etc.

Maybe it can be set on a timer. Imagine you're playing in the middle of a session, set to be three hours, and you hear an oven timer go ding. It's a mechanic akin to being shoulder-to-shoulder with other players; if they don't mind their fourth wall being broken, the ding can trigger Endgame. In the middle of their scene, comms go dead. The scene continues, but perhaps the option to Freak Out is given mid-scene. For players who are genuinely on a timetable (as I was as a third-shifter, gaming right up until I had to head to work), this might be a refreshing change of pace, or at least an extremely appealing optional rule.

The timer, of course, would have to be hidden from the players' view, as would all timepieces. Everyone surrenders watches, phones, anything with time on it. It'd foster that further feeling of sensory deprivation, and the ticking just might drive one mad. :)

-J.

The idea of a ticking timer you can't see is very nice.  Under pressure indeed.  The privilege of setting/observing/adjusting the timer is some sort of in-game resource, of course.  If you could make that work it'd be really fun, although I see all kinds of obstacles.

Jason wrote:
The idea of a ticking timer you can't see is very nice.  Under pressure indeed.  The privilege of setting/observing/adjusting the timer is some sort of in-game resource, of course.  If you could make that work it'd be really fun, although I see all kinds of obstacles.

It could be a fun resolution method, too, although probably for a different game. 

What can we do to help you focus your current design?

Jason wrote:
It could be a fun resolution method, too, although probably for a different game. 

What can we do to help you focus your current design?