Saturday, March 14, 2026

Six (Game System)

Premise

An entirely untested system. Can be used with Reconstructed Espionage Action or anything else.

A character can be represented by a lined sheet of paper, or a notecard. On the card you will write down the things you are carrying. One thing is one line.

You cannot carry more than six things. This is the primary mechanic of the game.

Rules

If you try to do a reasonable or easy task you will succeed. If you try to do a difficult task, or a reasonable task under stress, you must roll 1d6. On a 5 or 6, you succeed. If you can name a relevant thing that helps you, you also succeed. The GM and the other players can name things that would hurt you, which cancel out 1-to-1. If you encounter serious consequences, the GM may make you take on harmful things and/or lose helpful things.

If all your slots are filled with harmful things, you are dead or out of the game. It may be harder to let go of some things than others.

Sample Characters

Start by choosing a name and a class. This will determine your starting things. Each class also has a kind of thing they are good at acquiring from the environment. Here are a few sample classes.

Class - The Society Butcher

Fancy Dress. Silenced pistol. Command of six languages. Permission to enter elite circles. A hole where your heart should be.

You can pick up strings from NPCs you meet. A string is a thing that represents an obligation, and the strength of the obligation is determined by how long you spend interacting with the NPC.

If you spend five minutes talking to them, they will do a favour for you, or ignore an indiscretion. If you spend an hour talking to them, they will cover for you, or give you something to help you. If you spend a night with them, their heart will break for you.

Class - The Old Spenser

All-terrain smart camouflage suit. Night-vision goggles. Rifle. Close-quarters combat skills. A brutal wound, half-healed.

You can procure equipment from your environment. When you can name a gadget, tool, item, or small object that might reasonably exist in the scene, you find it.

Class -  The Pattern Analyst

Dull suit. Networked radio terminal. Encyclopaedic knowledge of most things. Air of standoffishness and undoubted expertise. A deathly fear of conflict.

Name three things in the scene and how they are connected. If the other players agree, they are connected in that way.

[To be continued?] 

Friday, March 13, 2026

Record of Fractal Conflict

Officially it is well known that the Great Pacific Republic is the dominant superpower of the first orientation. It claims the first orientation as its own, for it was the first of the empires to formalise the science of interface travel, and therefore received the honour of defining the origin of space and time. It was the first to convene the Interorientational Dialogue which established a fragile line of communication between the upper and lower powers, enabling for the first time a peace borne not of ignorance but of reasoned understanding. Naturally, it was also the first to violate that fragile but mutual peace, citing the need for security and vital resources for its citizens. The Dialogue still runs to this day, but all that is exchanged over the ansibles and conferences are threats and demands, warnings of imminent desecration, and the bureaucratic arrangements necessary for the repatriation of the dead. 

Officially, it is also well known that the Great Pacific Republic is also winning its war against his Revealed Excellency the Eiraene Emperor and the Empire which he commands. With the Taifang sundered by the Dysaecular Device (the sole product of the secret Esteeri Project Zeitenwende), it seems that once the Middernlands fall the Republic will become the dominant power in OQ, the first to unite all four sets of land and sky, joining eight realms under one roof. The roof, of course, being the roof of the Republican Chamber of State. Never mind that the Esteerenbild, which destroyed an entire orientation with a single gadget, is still alive and kicking. Never mind that the Republican Chamber has sat empty for the last ten years as war after war led to contiguous states of emergency, its rump parliament rubber-stamping a series of extraordinary decrees at the best of times and simply bypassed at worst. And never mind that the Republic is not even the only superpower in the first orientation.

You see, long before there were wars between orientations there were wars within orientations. In fact, there still are. The Great Pacific Republic of Eo was once matched with a rival Republic, the Seven-Starred Republic of the Folk of the Jien, whose sphere of influence rivaled the Pacific hegemony at every turn. The war was at first cold, then hot, then cold again, and by the time it came hot the third time around the Pacific Republic had begun using orientation traversal as a means to move troops without fear of detection or reprisal. The natural philosophers of the Jien had no means of traversing the fourth dimension, and found themselves at every turn hounded by the increasingly desperate cries of their people and their government for a wonder weapon; a miracle cure to end the war that was now turning decisively against them.

And then what happened?

They had no means of defeating the enemy. But they did have a way of remaking themselves. For the eminent philosophers of the Jien were well trained topologists and geometers of all kinds, including the foremost experts in functional topology in the entire OQ. And what is land, but realised geometry?

You don't mean...

Yes, to defend themselves against the Republic the Jien military developed the first fractal bomb. It was called an iterative regularisation device, a tool for enabling the distortion of local reality using the laws of mathematics. And they used it on themselves.

Those bloody idiots. 

Idiots, yes, and many more things besides. Nowadays the entire sphere of the Jien, from their home plains to every satellite statelet they convinced to join their coalition, is about the size of four football fields joined together. Its border is now a perfect square, every point of land rearranged into a fractal which grows ever more dense as you approach the centre. When the Emergency Command heard what the Jien had done, they laughed and said the war would be over in three months. By the time I was sent to the front we'd just passed through the second ring of regularisation.

How long had the war been going on by then? 

Some fourteen years. Now it's coming on thirty.

How can it take so long to wipe out a few football fields?

If you start walking into the Jien empire now, you will find your subjective sense of space shrinking. Somehow, as you approach the centre each step puts you in a larger rather than a smaller space than before. Most of it is just void---empty land, filling in the points between the original geometry---but the overall effect is that the entire surface area of the Jien empire is still there, just folded in on itself. This was the genius of the geometers, you see. For they designed the fractal in such a way that the defenders, who were deeper in than us, would always have more land, more ground to work with, more angles of attack. Despite encircling them on all sides we were in fact always hemmed in, with our backs against the wall, made to look slow and sluggish. I was at the front for five more years. Every day the sky seemed emptier as we pushed deeper in. Eventually I realised that there was simply not enough sky left for the iterative mapping to work with, and all that was left was a deep atomic blue. Still, by the end of the five years we reached the outskirts of the Jien river valley itself. Their capital was within reach.

What did you find there?

Patience, student. For months by that point we had grown worried. Intercepts from the capital had become increasingly garbled, prisoners of war spoke of absent leadership and unclear directives. By the time we saw the walls and our aerial scouts saw how the insides seemed to widen as they flew in, it was already too late. They'd seen us coming, and detonated another fractal bomb inside the capital.

That... can't be good.

It isn't. One fractal bomb is nasty stuff, but the infinity is still fairly regular. A fractal inside a fractal... we shelled the capital, or what was left of it, for weeks, months, a year. Our scouts saw no difference. Time, too, slows when you are in the zone of contraction. Then we saw what was coming out. Half-soldiers, distorted tanks, gunships flying backwards and dilated in time, firing antimunitions that rose out of the ground with our soldiers still stuck on them. It was a fresh layer of hell.

So the war was never won.

No. It took us years more to evacuate all of our troops and every non-distorted civilian we could carry. There was no Jien government any more, no more war to speak of. There were only humans, who wanted to live, and the monsters inside the capital. The Republican Chamber declared victory, and now we just deposit endless shells into the territory from outside. Bigger bombs too, when we can find one. Eventually the plan is to get some Esteeri diplomats on side and arrange for a team to deliver a Dysaecular Device into the centre of the double-fractal.

Does that work? Will any of this work?

I don't know. I hope I never have to find out.

Six (Game System)

Premise An entirely untested system. Can be used with Reconstructed Espionage Action or anything else. A character can be represented by a ...