At yesterday's session of the once-a-month gaming group that I referee for my boys and their friends, Commander McGee died. The game was set in Holtzmann's Corridor, on the planet Dekalb. The PC group had just finished a job, capturing an escapee from a hospital who had been exposed to some weird things which resulted in him being super-fast and strong. This was in essence the Amber Zone The Werewolf Disease, which I reviewed a few years back.
After tracking him for two days, they finally were able to confront him, only to find he dodged and dashed away at high speed, frustrating pursuit on foot. The quarry was finally brought to heel by Maj. Reaper hurling his sword him, at Medium range, and hitting the man in the leg. There's a bar story for you.
McGee, we barely knew ye. |
Well, they got paid for the job, and decided to go to Stavanger next. I explained the various travel options, and McGee's player decided to travel Low Passage to save cash. The liner had a qualified Doctor (Medical-3) aboard, and he had no -DM for low Endurance. All McGee needed to survive the Low Berth process was to throw a 3 or higher. The target is 5+, with a DM of +2 for medical support.
He thew Snake Eyes.
The Brothers of St. Cuthbert took care of burying McGee, and my son had a few spare character sheets lying around. McGee's player picked one, announced that this was McGee's brother, transferred all his gear and cash to the new character, and we rolled on.
Oh my. Another person-cicle didn't wake up. I wonder who won the pool.
ReplyDeleteBut you gotta love a game, players and ref who go where the dice throw them. Fickle finger of fate!
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