RPG Intro | The Outcast Odyssey | 1000 words
This is a personal advertisement for a TTRPG campaign I’m running.
Bzzzt… Incoming transmissions…
Paladin Frosttrot recording, 31 days into the mission.
On the subject of the three to five rumored stables in this area, we have found none. Not hide nor hair. Either the entranceways have been collapsed, or they’re well hidden by the ruins and ashes of dead ponies with hooves clutched too tight around old secrets. This was a secondary objective regardless, but it of some measurable disappointment to me and my team. The datacrystals that indicated the locations of the two on the outside of the barrier must have been false leads. On the subject of the barrier itself, no way to penetrate it has yet been sussed out by our squad. The field is absolute and has pierced into the ground, and our basic attempts at digging an underground hole were shortly defeated. We’re not sure as to the nature of the technology that allowed Vanhoover to construct a near-alicorn level shield, but it remains our primary focus. We suspect the causeway holds the secret, as it lets a river of muck flow out from the city walls, but the other Knights find the method less than optimal due to… Creature sightings. Which brings me to the final subject. We were followed. In crossing the Northern Plains we picked up- something. Unsure what. We feel it in our guts, and our S.A.T.S. keeps picking up digital ghosts. The rainstorms are intense, radioactive, and corrosive. Our armor has already begun to show signs that could lead to critical failure if left unmaintained. Getting into the city is the highest priority. It is a ghost town out here- and the lack of any bones even from pre-war ponies is… Quite concerning.
Tomorrow we’ll try the causeway. Frosttrot out.
The corridor turns. The pony panics. The mirrors turn in on themselves, reflecting reflections that reflect her. She tries to dart for the door, but it adjusts and pulls away from her- the hallway extends. The walls click and tick and chunk. She can hear the gears. She can always hear the gears. She has to be faster if she wants to get to the ration dispenser today. But she had twisted her back leg a week ago pretty badly. It still hurt. The tests would continue regardless if she was ready or not. And if she couldn’t pass the tests… “No!” she screams and scrambles for a ledge as a wall splits in half and begins to turn upwards. The cube was shifting. The walls were shifting. It was always shifting. Even in the rest quarters during breaks she and the other ponies could always hear the walls. Sometimes, even the screams. Sometimes they were just recordings. The stable would play them on loop. She didn’t know why. Nopony knew why. As her hoof found purchase on the ledge, the wall lifted her up and outside of the walls. And she saw. She saw all of it. The inbetween. The walls. Hundreds. And thousands. The walls were shifting. They shifted on forever. She screamed and fell back inside. And the hallway was bathed with red light. She had been deemed a failure. The cleaners were soon to come. And for once, in her entire life, the walls around her stopped their sounds. Stopped their noises. As she broke down crying, she was scared, but she was also relieved. No more tests. No more sounds. No more walls. She had given it her best, and then some.
SUBJECT A113. YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND SUBOPTIMAL. DO NOT MOVE.
Another day, another scene. She sighed, and reached out to touch a hoof to the broken clock in the room of the ruined house. She always had to try and take in the details as fast as she could. She didn’t know why she still bothered to try- she had never gleaned any hints about her magically cursed predicament. No details or leads that would get her out of this. She could feel the smooth, yet crunchy, shattered glass beneath her touch. But was it real? She always doubted any of it was real. And then the world stuttered- like a visual glitch- and now she was outside. The barren plains extended out around her infinitely. She glanced around. She was alone. She was always alone. She always felt so alone. How long had it been? First, the day had been sunny. Then the war began. Then the megaspells dropped. Then… Nothing. For a while. Then, this. Always this. This and that. Here and there. Scene after scene. Place after place. Some of them were real, she thought. They had to be. Corpses, ash, burnt ruins. Those were real. Sometimes they definitely were not. She would watch herself die. Over and over. Exploding, melting, being shot. She would die. Those were… Hopefully not real. She was alive, wasn’t she? As alive as she could be. Always “phasing”. Never stopping. Sometimes she would be in space, and look down on Equestria from above. Those were her favorite. Sometimes she was in water, and she couldn’t breath. Those were decidedly her least favorite. A new scene. Ponies. A group of them. They never saw her. But, one turned, and looked, and- “Who are you?” She gasped, eyes widened. “You-“ And the words died on her lips as the world stuttered again.
Summary
A bone from Fallout, a drop of blood from Equestria, and a bullet from New Vegas.
Christened with-
- Deadly monstrosities and creatures.
- Insane AIs and forgotten locked stables.
- Complex faction politics and territory war.
All this and more in…
FoE: The Outcast Odyssey.
I want to run a deadly Fallout Equestria campaign with a group of 4 plucky pones. It will be serious- and it will treat players as fragile horses..
You take a bullet to the heart? You die. Roll a new character. You enter a stable of ancient traps and fail an AGI test? You die. Roll a new character. You piss off a faction head? You get assassins sent after you? They find you in a ruin with your socks down? You die. Roll a new character.
Play competently. Spend time thinking about your actions and their consequences- and you’ll make it out alive. But for every decrepit corpse you happily root your looting hooves through, remember… They were once like you. They had dreams. They had a life. They had goals and objectives and a future… And a mistake cost them everything.
The campaign will be online, once a week, and will hopefully be for 3-5 hours. It will feature at times a dark and gritty tone, and at others a family-like squad. There will be a general goal given to the party, but the city will always be your sandbox. A mic, the ability to use Roll20 and Discord, and the motivation to read a PDF are required.
There will of course be a session 0 where I cover these in greater detail, but my general DM table rules are:
- Please communicate with the group amicably. We’re all on the same team here.
- If you need to cancel please give notice at least 2 hours before the session.
- I retain final say as DM on all shotcalls. Approach me privately with issues.
- Party infighting and thievery is banned without asking the other player involved.
- Enemies are SMART. You are SMART. There are consequences for your actions.
- Meta is acceptable as long as it does not abuse information and creates fun.
- You are in charge of learning your character, your inventory, and your class.
- No chaotic evil. No chaotic stupid. No chaotic edgy. No chaotic. No evil.
- Be respectful of other players identities, sexuality, religion, and traumas.
- No politics, history, or contentious topics at the table unless in-game.
See you soon, Stable rat.
- Vess