Neocropolis

 12/30/2024

Neocropolis 

(Note on pronunciation: ne o crop ol lis.)

Cyberpunk urban sprawl in year 2055. (30 years in the future)

The main characters begin in Squalor Row, a poor and rundown sector of Neocropolis. 

Neocropolis is governed by corporate oligarchy ruled by CEO Ross Novak.  

Mutation of animal, plant, and even human life is not uncommon thanks to deregulation of environmental and pollution laws. The corporations make the laws. Democracy is dead. 

This is the world in which the story is set. 

 1/1/2025

Game Rules 

3 attributes are STRENGTH, DEXTERITY, and WILL. Roll 1d4 - 1d4 giving a result of 0-3 for each attribute. 

To make a move, roll 2d6. Use PBTA rule. 7-9 is a success with a complication. 

Ace In The Hole rule. If one die rolled is a 6 on your move, you may choose to fail your move and keep the 6 as an Ace In The Hole to use in a future move that fails. Replace the lowest die with the Ace 6 making the move at least a success with a complication. You may only have one Ace In The Hole at a time. 

When creating a solo character or you have a small group of players, you automatically have one friendly npc, a helpful buddy. 

Planetside Troubles

 Picking up on Wraith's argument with the market vendor, Gus Fletcher asks her about the high cost of food. 

 "It's the sand storms on Helios," said Wraith. "Much of our agriculture operations are on the planet's surface. Don't know why. It's a bloody desert planet!" 

Time passes, and Gus bids Doronna Hammond farewell. 

 "So long, Wraith. If there's any decent worlds in this sector, I'll find it and let you know."  

Gus decides to head into town to seek out where he might gather information about Cortana Pass. There's got to be a watering hole in a place like this. 

Gus finds a busy tavern called The Red Sundown. He bellies up to the bar and purchases a bottle. As he drinks, Gus listens in to the conversations of those around him. 

Gather Information roll.

[Weak Hit: 1 + 3 + 0 = 4 vs 1 | 4]

[Gather Information: Involves a notable faction] 

The faction would be the Industrial Guild of Starship Manufacturers or IGSM. What's up with them? 

Their digital systems are corrupted. Possibly hackers, some kind of corporate espionage. 

As Gus downs the last of his beverage, he receives a tap on the shoulder. He turns around and is faced with a scruffy young fellow. 

 "Hey Mister, you got a ship? I really could use lift down to the planet. I need to get back to my drive team. I'd be happy to pay you." 

 "Yeah okay. I'm about ready to leave Nerio anyway. Name's Fletcher. Gus Fletcher." 

 " I'm Fredo Yeates. Livestock herder. Thanks a lot, Mister Fletcher. I'm indebted to you." 

 "You can just call me Gus. Glad to be of help. I heard you guys are having a lot of trouble with those sandstorms." 

 "It's been rough. Enjoyed my R and R here in Nerio, but I really need to get back to my team." 

 " Sure, sure. I'm at hanger bay 1128. Meet me there later, Fredo." 

Gus was wrong about one thing. He didn't find much scrapper activity here. Still, it can't hurt to nose around on a desert planet with a  bunch of sandgrazer herders. It could provide more information about Cortana Pass. 

Nerio

 The Nomad's ship log shows that its destination was to be somewhere in Cortana Pass before its crash. Not the best lead to finding Astriameux, but it's the only clue Gus Fletcher got.

He has a contact in that sector in the Nerio orbital settlement. Her name is Doronna Hammond, call sign Wraith. She used to be a drift pirate, and Fletcher helped her get away from that life.  She now works on Nerio as a ship builder. 

Gus finds her at the market, haggling with a vendor over the cost of food. She's not destitute, just a shrewd customer. That's Wraith for you, Gus thinks to himself. 

"Hey, Hammond." Gus is careful not to use her old call sign. Folks round these parts don't know about her pirating past. 

"Knox! What the hell brings you here?" 

"Ah, word on the ether is that there's some fresh planets out this way. I was hoping to score some good scrap. Thought I'd check in on my old friend." 

"Oh, so you have friends now?" she says with a sly grin. 

"Nice. Say lets go somewhere private and talk." 

We leave the busy market. As we walk quiet side passage, we freely discuss old times and current activities. I don't bring up Astreyamal. I keep that to myself for now. 

(I switched to first person pronouns here. I guess this has now become personal for me!)

Work is okay for Doronna, but life here harsh as it is all settlements in the Forge.  

I, Gus Fletcher, swear an oath to find a better planet for Doronna to live and build a home. 

Why not? I'll be scouring this sector for clue for my quest anyway! 

The Quest Begins

Gus Fletcher is a freelance scrapper who finds an sells precursor artifacts to wealthy merchants. He found his ship, the Quicksilver Nomad, as a derelict on an uninhabited volcanic planet. From the Nomad's onboard computer, Gus found new data on the fabled lost planet of Astreyamal. Gus was able to repair the Nomad and upgrade her engines for greater speed. 

    The surgical horror stands stoically on the tall bridge, staring down upon an unsuspecting world. 
Tinnitus voices whisper to his dyslexic mind. The secrets of the cosmos open before him like a sliding panel of opaque glass. 

    His only name given is Jack Corpse. In a long forgotten time, he had walked amongst the dead. 

    His skin grafted ears are deafened as the night sky screams pointlessly to the Acropolis below. Its sheltered paths wind endlessly through its vast internal labyrinth. The most surprising feature of the ancient city, however, is not its architecture, but its residents. The hieroglyphs on its unbroken facade are beautiful, hand-painted with mesmerizing, delicate beauty. They communicate a beautiful, sad, and wondrous tale: a future in which a tribe of goddesses live amongst the homeless, survivors of a great war.  

    Then it happened. The skies turned crimson with burning. The great cities of a distant continent were wrenched from their roots and swallowed by the sea. Entire villages dissolved in the beams of a heavenly light. Cities plunged below into the underworld, the survivors falling to the sea. 

    The earth grew quiet, but Jack Corpse could hear the screams of the dead all around him. He could not find solace, and wandered the forgotten cities that day. 

    A worn tune filled the night as Jack Corpse stumbled upon a strange village. His ears were filled with sound.

    Necrotic emanations of pain and despair reverberated on the wind.

    He saw the bones of a tribe move, so long dead they were phantasmal. He saw them take to the world becoming translucent specters to walk the streets of cities he had never foreseen.

    Strange incantations rolled across the ground. Jack Corpse had never heard anything like it.
As his patchwork flesh became numb, and his perplexed mind ceased to function, Jack Corpse was approached by a gaunt old man. 

    “Son,” said the gaunt old man, “It’s time. You must finish what you’ve started.” 

    Jack Corpse thought it was impossible. But the words were the only thing that still made sense. The agony of his body, the struggle with his mind and the voices in the darkness had come to this. 

    He knew what was coming for him. 

  

    Somehow, he made his way into the Acropolis. A piercing headache overcame him, and he found that he could not hold his head up. He fell forward, and his neck snapped. He left a mass of meat, blood, tissue and muscle.

    It’s time. He thought.

Ron L Good with editorial help by Mike Pewter, Dec 13, 2022