What the hell are you supposed to do when inspiration blind-sides you and totally eclipses the current project you are working on?
Wollongong, 1930. On a hot summer Saturday night, the skies are suddenly lit up by dazzling lights. Those few people still out on the streets are witness to a spectacle they will never forget, and one which will change their lives forever. Half a dozen strange objects, weird saucer shaped craft that either float menacingly or shoot off again at astonishing speed, fight a furious combat above the streets and suburbs against a larger, cigar-shaped ship. Pulses of red light burst forth as the saucers flash past; some strike the cigar-ship, sending pieces of debris showering over farmer's fields and into the bush. The massive craft falters, seems to hang in the air, smoke pluming from gashes in its smooth, bright hull. It wavers, perhaps helpless, its crew killed or struck senseless. The saucers form up over the five islands, and rush onwards in line formation, eager for the kill.
And then, from the seemingly spent hull of the cigar object, a great pulse of sickly yellow light bursts in a wave, encompassing the saucers and the streets below. Those on the ground are struck senseless and fall down where they stand. Apparently the crews of the silver saucers are similarly effected. Their final salvo of radiation-pulses never strike out at their prey. Instead, the saucers rush, out of control, and plunge one by one into the walls of the escarpment. When those who were safe indoors come out onto the streets to discover the source of the dreadful commotion, they see a kilometre long cigar, pluming smoke and sparks, limping haltingly to the stratosphere, and six bushfires burning on the mountains to the west.
Groups of intrepid locals go up in teams to investigate. The first of those to approach the crash sites never know their folly- they are simply distinegrated at the tunnel entrances. Those in the bush below think better of their curiosity and head back to their homes, cowed and bewildered. Early in the morning, five of the saucers, their compromised solid fuel offloaded, broken parts dumped and repairable parts patched-up, suddenly burst from their craters and disappear at lightning speed into the sky. The sixth never re-emerges.
Beset by the depression, the government of the day discounts the event and fails to act. Local entrepeneurs are less hesitant. Mining companies send in crews and survey teams, figuring that the crash sites are on land they have title to anyway. They discover small broken parts of ships, alien remains, some artifacts. Most importantly, they find the fuel, an unknown element still radiant with an eery red glow. The first surveyors quickly fall ill and die pretty quickly, their internal organs turned to mush by the radiation, their skin withering away or peeling off in great patches. Methods of protection are improvised. Soon a closer approach is made, with little effect, or at least for several days. The material is recovered, tested. Its incredible potential as a power source is soon discovered. Fortunes are made, and Wollongong, overnight, is on the map.
In the meantime, the unfortunate witnesses to the saucer battle have been finding themselves strangely altered. Some have undergone weird mutations (as have much of the flora and fauna upon the escarpment, or in backyards for that matter), becoming strong, fast, impervious to harm or otherwise changed. Others have discovered strange mental powers, as if the untapped potential of their minds have been released
Such small quantities of the strange element, soon coined Eurekium (or bonzanium, or dinkumnium?) are capable of producing such vast quantities of power that suddenly everyone wants a slice of the pie. The problem is gathering the stuff. More and more retrieval teams succumb to the radiation, some failing to gather anything at all. Too late, the government takes an interest, but their teams succumb as well, and a soldier's strike threatens to destabilise the government. The mining companies, throwing everything into their projects, fast-track research into the material and the means of retrieving it. It quickly becomes apparent that the private companies are the only ones with the knowledge and infrastructure to harvest the Eurekium. Capitulating, the government gives control to the companies in return for much needed tax revenue. Wollongong's boom deepens.
Competition for the Eurekium market picks up, and after several incidents of corporate espionage, criminal organisations are approached for security contracts. As high rise buildings go up in the city, the cold war between companies at times breaks out into open conflict. This only escalates as it becomes clear that, valuable as it is, the supply of Eurekium is finite. Just as the means of harvest are being perfected, the supply shows signs of dwindling out.
The city's new-found prosperity, while arguably breaking the economic depression locally, fails to trickle down to local families. Many jobs are created, but the monopoly leaves the mining companies autonomous and untouchable. The council and police force are soon in the pockets of the magnates, some of whom have by this time been replaced by crime figures. Corruption and violence are rife.
As the supply of Eurekium dwindles, prices go up. Soon, foreign governments and sinister organisations abroad realise that if they want any, they must get it soon. Shady deals are made, along with new fortunes. Talented scientists, many with visions of grandeur and nefarious schemes, become interested in the supply of the wonder element. Some gain a foothold in the companies, or stage violent takeovers. And as the organisations whose supply is petering out become desperate, open warfare breaks out in the new metropolis of Wollongong. Gangs of hired thugs protect interests or stage raids on the infrastructure of their opponents. Acts of terror occur, with loss of civilian life.
The world at large, seeing the way the wind blows, gets over its romance with Eurekium. Great scientific leaps have been made in certain areas, but soon enough those cities without much prospect of obtaining Eurekium to run their power plants get wise and turn once more to conventional power sources. The Eurekium bubble bursts. Only those who would seek to use the element for more sinister purposes maintain their interest in it. And they will go to any lengths to obtain it.
In the aftermath of all this, Wollongong is on the brink of chaos. The criminal gangs busily work at monopolising whatever power remains. Mass lay-offs have left the poor poorer than they were before. Crime cartels control the harbour and to a great extent the rail freight system, and Wollongong becomes the country's crime capitol. Sinister foreign agents, scientists and criminals are about, seeking the last of the Eurekium. And recently, reports of lights in the sky have been whispered about by the frightened populace.
And those who saw when the saucers last came, the freaks and psychics and mutants, live a new life on the fringe. The worst of them have found a use for their new talents in the gangs, corporations and conspiracies. The best of them, though, want to get to the bottom all of this, to save the city that rejected them from its crime wave, and unravel the mystery of who the visitors were and why they came here. So they take to the streets as costumed vigilantes, trying desperately to win back some justice in the new, broken metropolis.
So there you have it. A weird 1930s Pulp game set in Wollongong. I like this a whole lot better! I would uses Hideouts and Hoodlums to run it. Buckets of fun.
Wollongong, 1930. On a hot summer Saturday night, the skies are suddenly lit up by dazzling lights. Those few people still out on the streets are witness to a spectacle they will never forget, and one which will change their lives forever. Half a dozen strange objects, weird saucer shaped craft that either float menacingly or shoot off again at astonishing speed, fight a furious combat above the streets and suburbs against a larger, cigar-shaped ship. Pulses of red light burst forth as the saucers flash past; some strike the cigar-ship, sending pieces of debris showering over farmer's fields and into the bush. The massive craft falters, seems to hang in the air, smoke pluming from gashes in its smooth, bright hull. It wavers, perhaps helpless, its crew killed or struck senseless. The saucers form up over the five islands, and rush onwards in line formation, eager for the kill.
And then, from the seemingly spent hull of the cigar object, a great pulse of sickly yellow light bursts in a wave, encompassing the saucers and the streets below. Those on the ground are struck senseless and fall down where they stand. Apparently the crews of the silver saucers are similarly effected. Their final salvo of radiation-pulses never strike out at their prey. Instead, the saucers rush, out of control, and plunge one by one into the walls of the escarpment. When those who were safe indoors come out onto the streets to discover the source of the dreadful commotion, they see a kilometre long cigar, pluming smoke and sparks, limping haltingly to the stratosphere, and six bushfires burning on the mountains to the west.
Groups of intrepid locals go up in teams to investigate. The first of those to approach the crash sites never know their folly- they are simply distinegrated at the tunnel entrances. Those in the bush below think better of their curiosity and head back to their homes, cowed and bewildered. Early in the morning, five of the saucers, their compromised solid fuel offloaded, broken parts dumped and repairable parts patched-up, suddenly burst from their craters and disappear at lightning speed into the sky. The sixth never re-emerges.
Beset by the depression, the government of the day discounts the event and fails to act. Local entrepeneurs are less hesitant. Mining companies send in crews and survey teams, figuring that the crash sites are on land they have title to anyway. They discover small broken parts of ships, alien remains, some artifacts. Most importantly, they find the fuel, an unknown element still radiant with an eery red glow. The first surveyors quickly fall ill and die pretty quickly, their internal organs turned to mush by the radiation, their skin withering away or peeling off in great patches. Methods of protection are improvised. Soon a closer approach is made, with little effect, or at least for several days. The material is recovered, tested. Its incredible potential as a power source is soon discovered. Fortunes are made, and Wollongong, overnight, is on the map.
In the meantime, the unfortunate witnesses to the saucer battle have been finding themselves strangely altered. Some have undergone weird mutations (as have much of the flora and fauna upon the escarpment, or in backyards for that matter), becoming strong, fast, impervious to harm or otherwise changed. Others have discovered strange mental powers, as if the untapped potential of their minds have been released
Such small quantities of the strange element, soon coined Eurekium (or bonzanium, or dinkumnium?) are capable of producing such vast quantities of power that suddenly everyone wants a slice of the pie. The problem is gathering the stuff. More and more retrieval teams succumb to the radiation, some failing to gather anything at all. Too late, the government takes an interest, but their teams succumb as well, and a soldier's strike threatens to destabilise the government. The mining companies, throwing everything into their projects, fast-track research into the material and the means of retrieving it. It quickly becomes apparent that the private companies are the only ones with the knowledge and infrastructure to harvest the Eurekium. Capitulating, the government gives control to the companies in return for much needed tax revenue. Wollongong's boom deepens.
Competition for the Eurekium market picks up, and after several incidents of corporate espionage, criminal organisations are approached for security contracts. As high rise buildings go up in the city, the cold war between companies at times breaks out into open conflict. This only escalates as it becomes clear that, valuable as it is, the supply of Eurekium is finite. Just as the means of harvest are being perfected, the supply shows signs of dwindling out.
The city's new-found prosperity, while arguably breaking the economic depression locally, fails to trickle down to local families. Many jobs are created, but the monopoly leaves the mining companies autonomous and untouchable. The council and police force are soon in the pockets of the magnates, some of whom have by this time been replaced by crime figures. Corruption and violence are rife.
As the supply of Eurekium dwindles, prices go up. Soon, foreign governments and sinister organisations abroad realise that if they want any, they must get it soon. Shady deals are made, along with new fortunes. Talented scientists, many with visions of grandeur and nefarious schemes, become interested in the supply of the wonder element. Some gain a foothold in the companies, or stage violent takeovers. And as the organisations whose supply is petering out become desperate, open warfare breaks out in the new metropolis of Wollongong. Gangs of hired thugs protect interests or stage raids on the infrastructure of their opponents. Acts of terror occur, with loss of civilian life.
The world at large, seeing the way the wind blows, gets over its romance with Eurekium. Great scientific leaps have been made in certain areas, but soon enough those cities without much prospect of obtaining Eurekium to run their power plants get wise and turn once more to conventional power sources. The Eurekium bubble bursts. Only those who would seek to use the element for more sinister purposes maintain their interest in it. And they will go to any lengths to obtain it.
In the aftermath of all this, Wollongong is on the brink of chaos. The criminal gangs busily work at monopolising whatever power remains. Mass lay-offs have left the poor poorer than they were before. Crime cartels control the harbour and to a great extent the rail freight system, and Wollongong becomes the country's crime capitol. Sinister foreign agents, scientists and criminals are about, seeking the last of the Eurekium. And recently, reports of lights in the sky have been whispered about by the frightened populace.
And those who saw when the saucers last came, the freaks and psychics and mutants, live a new life on the fringe. The worst of them have found a use for their new talents in the gangs, corporations and conspiracies. The best of them, though, want to get to the bottom all of this, to save the city that rejected them from its crime wave, and unravel the mystery of who the visitors were and why they came here. So they take to the streets as costumed vigilantes, trying desperately to win back some justice in the new, broken metropolis.
So there you have it. A weird 1930s Pulp game set in Wollongong. I like this a whole lot better! I would uses Hideouts and Hoodlums to run it. Buckets of fun.
