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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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> A tocket? Vell if you vant a tocket, you vill haf to pay. Speak to ze counter staff zey vill help you better.

> Oh ze pricing? Vell zat depends. Ze runners kan use ze help. You are strong, good wif a rifle, alvays helpful. Price very cheep, if you donut use ze medical plan. You vant better, ze economy class iss 500 dollahs last I shaw. You kan cheepen it wiv extra zervices of kourse. Middle class is 750, and ze highest class is 2500. Now go. I haf work zu machen.
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Aside from the mechanics weird accents most of the train staff is generally reliable. They have to be as it's well paid work anyone would want.

The wild things in the wastes do not bother with train tracks very often, and the times they do it's usually some side effect of whatever they were doing. Still it is important to send out runners to confirm the integrity of the railways before the train goes by. Drivers will only proceed if they can see green lights ahead.

Out of the way tracks can lead to old marshaling yards, abandoned stations, or nowhere at all. Good luck convincing your runner crews to check it out, as the tales of untold riches are outnumbered ten to one by horror stories of nasty critters in the ruins. Also the railway companies really do not like it when trains are delayed due to runners not lighting signals in time.

If a train has to turn back for whatever reason, they tend to send in runner teams to deal with whatever blocked the track. It's cheaper than risking the rare armoured trains.
Common steps to test if a cargo area is safe is by setting off a dismounted, single use loud train horn. Set it up, then watch from a safe distance. If nothing comes out to eat or shoot it, you're usually dealing with something patient. If you hear a horn in return, you're dealing with wild folk willing to trade.
There's more or less a chapter in the webcomic Stand Still Stay Silent that explores this idea. Trainsaws!
Watch Snowpiercer and play Metro: Exodus
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Waystation 7 is fairly typical and generally doesn't hide much more than a few fruit trees swaying gently in the breeze and a few sources of refreshing clean water. It switches places often and finding it is considered a sign of good luck. You can rest and recuperate here in a bright summer sun.

Even if for the rest of the journey it's -15 and you are in the middle of the Alaskan winter express line.

Rabbits and other wildlife can be seen outside the chainlink fences. Do not even think about laying a hand on them. Even if you can find your way back to the way station and your train again, your life will be cursed from then on. If your train-crew and passengers don't get you the deluge of bad luck will.
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Inspirations, certainly.

There's talk of a desert complex somewhere, with the tracks turned to stone. Do not gaze into the eyes of the guardians for more than a second. Do not take anything from that accursed place other than pressure water, and even then try to dump it as fast as you can. Do not stop if the ride is rough. Don't try to pick up stranded trains from that place.

If you can hear buzzing, pray your steam vessel can take it and pour on more coal. Do. Not. Stop.

You'll hit a patch of water soon enough, no longer than 20 minutes travel. Once you're through that, you'll be fine. Don't worry about signals or your runners. The tracks will be perfectly smooth under the wheels even when they don't appear to be. As for your runners, they'll either be perfectly fine or beyond your help anyway.
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Albatross station is the last waystation on the way to Fort Lawrence, and from there it's just a short hop across mostly civilized land to Halifax or North Sydney. It's a tradition for runners to 'grab a cup of coffee' at the way-station. They make their own brew, plus one extra cup for every runner present. The steaming fresh mugs they leave behind are always drained by the time the next crew comes around. It's accepted truth that the locals drink the brews though any Inuit questioned about it swears up and down they have nothing to do with it.

Whatever the truth may be the general end result is that a runner crew never has a single matching pair of coffee mugs on hand.

Occasionally enterprising souls carry out limited repairs on the place. Some enterprising merchant is thinking about setting up a permanent shop there. Someone nicked parts of the sign and it's considered a blessing to return letters long thought lost.

>One of the beginner plot hooks. Intended to gauge what tone your party wants for the campaign.
The implication is of course that every runner crew takes the empty mugs with them for washing. I am a derp.

Is anyone even interested in this btw?
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There is a length of rail that runs along the western coast. It runs along a great wall, supposedly meant to keep the wild things out. There's several places where it got breached. Fortunately it is easier to put walls around the cities instead though many wonder what the people of old were thinking with their sea walls. Even now it's common for runners to find yet another hole in the battered line.

The things from beyond the walls generally do not bother the trains that outmass them by several orders of magnitude most of the time. Most of the time is the operative word here. Felled beasts are said to be sources of great riches, and many runners hurry to scavenge what they can in the aftermath of a titan duel. Just do not stick around as their rotting corpses attract all sorts of strange scavengers.

Life in the walled cities is cramped, uncomfortable, but ultimately somewhat safer than life outside. Arc lamps are common, and learned scholars try to figure out the ways from before by their light. Cities do try and form nations now and then though news travels slow, with the train the safest and most reliable option most of the time. Telegrams are sometimes attempted, but among the wild things there are a few strange beings with an appetite for telegram wires of all things. Aircraft are reserved for priority messages and the super rich.
... are you by chance the quest runner who abandoned Cascadia Railroads on /qst/?
If so - fuck you, that quest was scratching way too many itches and now is gone.
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Traveling on foot or by the old roads? Are you crazy? You can choose between exciting deaths from the raiders, the natural hazards, the wild things and of course the zones. You know the fucking things. Every asshole seems to think they're some source of rich mystical lore or summat. That's bullshit. It's just plain old irradiated zones. Bad for your health, but not a single goddamn ounce of any of that good shit. Don't you think I ain't heard you talking with old Anderson lately. All o the high grade stuff comes from those animals, and the rest is just scavenged.

What? Of course they're animals. They're just tough, but dumb as a sack of bricks.

Okay I get it but at least sign up with the runners. Look I'll hook you up with old Martin's crew. They drive round in their metal brick, at least that'll keep you safe. Better than them idiots careening around at god knows what speed anyhow. But! Only if you swear to me on your bare goddamn knees you stay 'way from them zones you hear? It's something I can cross my heart on now just absorb it in that lump of stone you call a head.
Nope, sorry to dissappoint.

Of fucking course I forget to greentext.
The whole comic is Great
Still fuck you for reminding me about Cascadia dying. Shit was great.
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The most straightforward solution to a horror on the tracks is ramming speed. Many a train needs to be hosed down by flamethrowers after the fact, but it is an undeniably effective strategy to deal with smaller fortress classes. One may wonder why flamethrowers are used but no one wants to repeat station 47.

The most common wild things are just plain based off a distorted vision of natural creatures. Land adapted oceanic creatures are the next most common. Beyond that, they get wilder. Less bound by rules. Do not stop at station 47.

It's a matter of speculation where they came from. Some claim they rose from the old world, but what ships still make it across the Atlantic tell of the same tales. Except in Europe and Asia they claim the new world made them. Both sets of stories agree that their creation was an accident though, a side effect. They speak of a great war, a terrible war, the scars of which are still plain to see today. Burn it, all of it, whenever you encounter station 47.

It's not just a conventional war. Started out as one, maybe, but the weapons soon turned exotic. Or got turned onto something exotic. Something from the depths of the ocean. Something they researched at station 47.

Pray you do not end up at station 47.
>Is anyone even interested in this btw?
Create for your own enjoyment anon
But remember to keep it in your drawer, rather than posting
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>Is anyone even interested in this btw?
They say New York was the city that never slept. Before the gas hit. Now it is the city that sleeps forever. It's perfectly safe by daylight. By night though, the dead never once even stop to realize what they are. Just act normal and you'll be fine. If you can find some authentic dollahs, then you might even be able to buy something.

Plus side, anything you do buy there doesn't realize it's supposed to be dead just like the rest of the city. Cell phones that never run out of charge. A car that'll run forever if you can scrape the cash together.

Just make sure to finish any and all business before the night is over. Talks, rides, conversation. Be perfectly still. Be perfectly silent. Just fade away into the dawn. Because if that city remembers you're there, you won't be leaving.
>Watch Snowpiercer
unless your game runs on Snowpiercer Logic, that's not going to help you very much
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You first, champ. You can't bring Sun back anyway
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might check this out if you haven't. it's a death world focused completely on trains and covered completely in train tracks.
Anyone remembers a novel where characters are travelling in a train, or rather slowly push the train forward, remove track from behind it and put them in front, because due to fucking up some experiment few centuries earlier, they are trapped in a disorted pocket universe? Was a major mind-fuck to read through.
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You raise a very good point. On with the show!

Throwing a toy out the window into the slums is a common practice in Easton, Pennsylvania, especially for any journey into New Jersey. Even the richest man on the continent won't think twice about it. You need all the luck you can get on a journey like that. There's a special mattress put aside for people to aim at. It was once common for fights to break out over who got the gifts. Until local law enforcement decided after a riot too many that the local orphanage got the first pick. Nowadays if you ever need an officer in a hurry, there's always one to be found at that particular street. Likewise if you need to know something and you're decent enough with repairs, the local orphanage has an abundance of both broken toys to fix and streetrats with very good hearing.

Plenty of dirty work needs doing. The local clubs are run by several rival gang factions who constantly vie for power and influence. The local walls are not nearly as well maintained as those that guard the city's inner circle, with patrols under-supplied for all but the most critical repairs. Rumor has it some old dog is looking for mercenaries. Not a grizzled veteran soldier but an actual dog. It tends to sniff out those who are adept at violence and it tries to get them to follow it. Several bouncers did once, for a laugh, and none will talk about the things the dog showed them.
I dunno but your post reminded me of this

Only vaguely related but Train to Busan is some great train media
It's clearly Inverted World. And they are moving along a constantly extending tractricoid. And the book concludes with them reaching [spoiler: Portugal, with nothing but Atlantic Ocean in front of them]
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Hmm. Thanks for the inspiration.

Where the American continent has the relatively tame station 47, Europe has to contend with the far, far less pleasant 'final destinations'. The Germanic and Polish cities are constantly fed men and munitions just to keep them and their spawn contained. Those that can flee the continent altogether, and they are the reason so many German and Polish native speakers are swamping the East Coast. Those who served on the Iron Line are highly sought after, not just for their skill at dealing with the various Wild Things but also the apparent blessing they received there. Their shots tend to be more accurate, and do more damage. Their danger senses are finely honed and their minds strong. Atop that, they are allowed to keep their master-crafted soldier kit after they have served for at least four years. Some young fools even seek out the Northwest Passage for precisely this reason. The journey is long, and perilous. Atop that, barely any who served have ever met their end in peaceful ways. Shadowy beasts hunt them specifically. Certain factions are ill disposed towards them instantly, even if they are out of the Iron Line uniform.

Rumor has it, any one of them that find waystation 7 find it very difficult to leave and may stay behind voluntarily.
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A common sight is the giant land squid. It's a relatively slow predator, though it's two main hunting tentacles are lightning fast and ridiculously strong. Their hide can easily change complexion. It is an intelligent beast and it actively employs pack tactics. They mainly prey on deer and similar animals, though they have no qualms about eating larger prey like humans if they catch them. It is common to see one or two startle a heard on purpose with an intimidating display of flashy colors. This drives the startled prey into the grab range of teir nearby camouflaged pack-members. Their beaks are powerful enough to crack bone and give them access to the highly nutritious marrow. They will back off when presented with a threat they cannot handle such as a train. Larger examples do not fear runner vehicles and can and will grab out anyone exposed to the open for a snack. Lately their herds appear to have taken over abandoned cattle farms as habitats.

Their hides are leathery and tough, decent for gloves and other kit while their meat is an excellent trail ration and their eggs are a delicacy. Their various organs form the basis for several medicines. Beaks and skeletons are sometimes used for expensive and completely ornamental weapons. Still, to get to that good stuff you first need to fell either a lone bull or a whole herd of females. Since they made landfall, the number of eggs in a clutch has gone down compared to their ocean-bound kin.

It is entirely possible to tame a young one, and they grow up to be excellent guard dogs. While they lack the nose of an actual dog, they have great eyesight and are intelligent enough to learn much more complex tasks. For example 'Blorb' is the pet squid of a bouncer at Eaton's Hidden Pearl club, although most of the time the man refers to Blorb as a coworker more than a pet. Few trouble-goers mess with Blorb after he quite literally threw a man out the premises so hard he ended up in the second story of the building opposite.
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The Maass-Hayden Trans-Continental 'Razorback' is a typical train-engine of the current day. With a heavily reinforced front for ramming, a heavy duty steam propulsion and a simple yet effective 155 on the rear she can take on practically anything the world can throw at her. The old model has been continually upgraded over the years, not just to make her more deadly but also to make her more like an actual home. Most of the blast doors have a bead curtain installed. The toilet has been moved out of the tender to the locomotive car, and now comes preheated so the crew 'don't freeze our ass off every time we go take a shit'. A stereo player from the Sleeping City is inside it's own little safebox above the driver's compartment - the safebox is so heavily reinforced it is entirely possible to crash the whole train and find the stereo unharmed in the wreck. The whole front of the train smells vaguely of charred meat, courtesy of a little disaster a while ago none of the crew really want to talk about. They assure anyone that asks it's perfectly safe though. Twin 37mm light guns adorn the front, the 'ram horns'. They are occupied by the most junior members of the crew as they are hot, cramped, and first into the fight. Only after a journey in one of these are new crew fully accepted.

I think I'm spent for the night. Anyone that wants to continue this, feel free to.
Nah, let's just watch this autosage and die, because fuck you, OP. I'm still mad about that quest.

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