Secret Santicore 2011!

Here it is... in all its warty, unwashed, typo-riddled glory: Secret Santicore 2011! 

104 pages of generous creativity for your game, and it's all totally free. Not a cent.

BUT... if you do end up using some of the material herein, take the one minute out of your day to shoot an email over to the guy who wrote the article and let him know how it played out. He'll get a kick out of it, guaranteed.

I know I will. And that's worth something.

Click here to download (13mb)!

And click here if you wanna know what Secret Santicore is all about!

To all the Squid-hugging Ink-hoarders: yes, I know it's full color, and yes I know it will chew through your inks in no time. But fear not; in a couple of weeks, when I get back from holiday in the Land of Poison and Fire, I'll go through the doc and do a black and white version. Just for you. 

To all the Type-O Nazis: you're gonna have fun with this one; the turnaround was just far too tight to get proofreaders to go properly through it, but rest assured, once I'm back I'll get them all fixed up. If you do feel like proofreading, lemme know. 

Lastly special thanks is due to the following people for general asskickingness:

Zak for saying go for it, when I said I think I could.

The contributors: for being a great bunch a guys. It was a pleasure.

The artists: Cover artist Peter Seckler (where's your portfolio Pete?), Stuart Robertson and especially Jeremy Duncan, for producing such excellent art in such ridiculous timeframes.

S.John Ross for the generous use of his fonts.

The Emergency Elf support crew: Dylan Atkinson, Mike Evans, Erik Jensen, Iain Jones, Jeff Rients, Stuart Robertson, Peter Seckler, S.L. Shirley, and Telecanter for stepping in when help was needed. Seriously couldn't have done it without you.

And extra extra super special gratitude and love to Vanessa, for covering my ass and letting me run wild with the opportunity. I'm so glad I married you and not me. 

Well she's done, she's dusted. Sun's coming up. Time for a beer.

Bewdy

Jez

P.S. Lady-gamers, where the hell were you? 

Secret Santicore: neeeearly there...

... but there's this thing called Christmas that keeps mucking with my production schedule.

Hope your holidays rock.

Bewdy

Jez

Secret Santicore : 8 page teaser!

Can't wait til Christmas Eve to get your paws on the Secret Santicore collection? Here's an 8 page preview just to whet your appetite, with sample pages from 7 of the 42 entries received. 

Click here to download.
Tell me what you think!

Secret Santicore : Contents Preview

Secret Santicore is on its way! Here's the contents page from the PDF with over 100 pages of Santicorey goodness. Awesome holiday reading awaits, available for download from 24th December! Totally FREE!


And if you can't wait til then look forward to the 8 page preview tomorrow! Be sure to spread the word! For now though, lemme know which entries catch your eye. Which entries can't you wait to see?

Skirmishers

Santicore again, this time for 3llense’g.

Down and Out in Gothmagog

Another one for Santicore, this time for Jeff.

Hollow Earth Expedition : Empire Flying Boat

The Empire Flying Boat was the mainstay of the Imperial Airways fleet from 1936-47, traversing the globe from London to Australia via India, and making the trans-Atlantic journey to New York and Bermuda. Their time was short but glorious, and I always wanted them in my Hollow Earth Expedition campaign, as the "Millenium Falcon" of the setting. In and out of anywhere, flying dangerous missions for Empire during the war, shuttling dilettantes and precious cargo around the world.

For my players I gave them a handout of the ship - photos and stats -  and gave them surveillance of the factory in Rochester, UK, where they were built. Their first mission in my HEX game? Steal one.

Click here to download the handout.

Star Wars: Planets of the Malicrux II

Five more worlds from the Malicrux Sector.


PLANETS OF THE MALICRUX

DRACA is famed across the sector as the homeworld of the Dracan war machine, a brutally efficient militant society where death and honour a sacred. The tide-locked world is in fact a moon of a super-massive gas giant in the mid-outer portion of the Draca system, and while it receives little light from the red dwarf sun, the luminous ochre atmosphere and glowing auroras of the provides ample light. Combined with the active geothermal activity caused by its proximity to the gravitational field of the gas giant, Draca is able to support life in this cold corner of the galaxy. Normally a simple mining planet like Draca would never have developed much of a population at all, but several factors combined to give a significant population. The moon is crossed by winding mountain ranges that rise up out of dense ‘oceans’ of semi-caustic poisonous gases, beneath which lie volcanic seams rich in mineral wealth.  Numerous mining stations work these seams, operated by acid-resistant mechanized labour and hardly souls in hazmat suits, and these stations provide the massive munitions factories on neighbouring Siccidde all the resources they need. Draca’s early history was marred by the eradication of the indigenous lifeforms that continually attacked the mining operations, and this bloody history was the origin for the militant society found on Draca today. Draca's fortress-cities are built on the mountain ranges, and here the various families still maintain diligent martial training. Its is not unusual for entire families to do nothing but serve in the military machine, and many families have a proud tradition of having served for generations, recognised as producing some of the most highly trained officers and troops. Draca has been known to lease out its legions during times of war, and readily send its troops to maintain battle competence in the Eternal War on Fray. Surprisingly the relationship between Draca and the Empire is strained; despite similar outlooks, Dracan pride refuses to submit to the colours and uniform of the Empire, and ongoing tensions remain. The Empire ensures that the Dracan War Machine remains out of the rebellion by employing the forces for lowly peacekeeping operations on several low-key worlds, considered by many on Draca to be an insult to their fine forces. - Contributed by Pete, one of my players.

EPHEMERA is a dream world that defies description, for whoever lays eyes upon skies and feet upon its soil finds themselves in a world of flux and illusion. Wild visions plague all those who visit, and the planet emits an unquantifiable energy that plays havoc with sensors and scanners, making categorization of the world almost impossible. It is widely believed however that these visions might just be glimpses of the future, or the past, or aspects of the visitor’s life history that confront and challenge them. As such it is a haven for those of religious persuasion, and a number of faiths and cults make the pilgrimage here in the hope of receiving guidance in their lives. A small but bustling space station caters to their needs, orbiting high over the ever-changing lands; it is rumoured that even the Emperor himself visits from time to time.

FARGONE is a frontier world, claimed by refuges from Chyco, where dirt-poor farmers and shepherds cling to the last vestiges of civilization on an untamed planet. Following the revolution on Chyco, the few members of the noble house and several thousand retainers and loyalists managed to flee the planet. With no support from the Emperor’s new order, the fleet was forced to search for an unclaimed world and start anew. After two years of futile exploration, fighting off pirate attacks, critical supply shortages, and disastrous encounters on three previously unexplored worlds, the house was left in ruin, her scions dead, and the fleet all but destroyed. It was decided by the remaining stragglers that the next world would be their last, for – as their new leader Luciddius Tain put it – “one more world and we’ll be too far gone”. The phrase stuck, as did the name. After two decades of scratching a meagre existence out of the dirtlands on Fargone, it looks as though the colonists have pulled through the worst of it. The “capital” – a collection of fortifications built around the last starships of the Chyco fleet – is slowly growing and has secured a regular trade route from Vorzheva twice a year; settlers seeking a quiet life of toil far from the Empire are always welcome. There is but one rule on Chyco that must be obeyed: no droids. Droids are what got House Chyco into this mess, and anyone who uses a droid to do something they could do is considered a layabout and not worth spit. Offworlders are advised to keep theirs locked safely onboard their vessels.

FAEL is a dimly lit moon kept warm by the gravitational effects of its parent planet, the blue gas giant Orsus; it is home to a number of bio-luminous orders of plant life but has no indigenous species. It was colonised millennia ago by human explorers, who have adapted to life in near darkness. A tall, pale and anemic splinter of humanity, the Fael are a passionate and hot tempered, and buoyed by the destruction of the Death Star were among the first worlds to openly declare support for the Rebel Alliance and cede from the Empire. It was a costly mistake, and the Empire moved swiftly to make an example of the Fael to discourage similar actions elsewhere. Its major cities were reduced to slag by orbital bombardment, and the survivors rounded up under charges of sedition and treason and placed in military camps. For the past year they have been subjected to all manner of cruelty and suffering, though the Empire can claim that its program of re-education is finally producing results. The first battalion of Faelean infantry has shown determination and success in combat, recently aiding in the costly invasion of Gyre and willingly laying down their lives in the thousands to achieve their objectives. Grand Moff Skyrus Kyreiken is said to be very pleased with their performance and keen to utilise their services against other difficult military targets soon.

FRAY is a cursed world trapped in the endless struggle of The Eternal War, a conflict that has continued since well before the dawn of the Old Republic. None can recall the causes of the war; only that numerous sides fight because that is all that they have known and all that is left to them. The original inhabitants have long since disappeared; interplanetary forces, mercenaries, soldiers of fortune and fools eager to prove themselves now make up the rank and file of fractured armies. Whatever original climate once graced this world has since been blasted out of existence; now cold winds howl over muddy plains, through hookwire fences and shattered fortresses, rattling the ruined armor that clings to fleshless corpses that cover the world. None know just how deep are these fields of death, where new weapons from nearby Siccidde are tested in the field, and foul chemistries are unleashed from the quagmires of Jasterkast. It is said that the war is allowed to continue only so that the industries of these two worlds may hone their wares before releasing them to the common market; it is also said that any soldier who can prove he did his tour of duty on Fray will command the utmost respect of subordinate and superior alike.

Hangin' out in DungeonFu

First user report of DungeonFu.

Thanks Chris for giving it a go.

Dungeon by Design Hangout.

I gotta 20 with the shottie

Another from the vaults.

Some concept art for a film based on an rpg based on zombie-killin'.