PChan’s Spirit of the Century Campaign

About the century club

The Great War is over, and the world is a darker place, rippling under the surface with unseen dangers- dangers few are even aware of. In the skies over Europe, Doctor Methusaleh's fleet of time-zepplins assemble to rip open a path to a future that should never be. The deadly Gorilla Khan stalks darkest Africa from his throne in conquered Atlantis, pledging the destruction of the human race. All over the globe, dark, shadows grasp towards the heart of the brave, their every intent to silence the hope of a new century struggling to survive.

One organization stands in their way.

The Century Club.

The exact age of the Century Club is subject to sometimes-vigorous debate. Its history is most easily traced through its main chapter house, which has relocated repeatedly over the centuries. Currently, the main chapter house is located in Washington DC. Previously, from the late 18th century until the end of the American Civil War, it was located in London. Before then, the club had an office in Paris, but it was destroyed in a disastrous fire that resulted in the loss of many of the club's records. Consequently, the history of the club prior to that time is hazy, but it is generally conceded that there was a Century Club in the early 15th century, before the fall of Constantinople. Less reliable records point to the existence of the club under other names during the reign of Charlemagne, or even during the Roman republic. Scurrilous rogues make claims to even more ancient roots, but their invocation of ancient Egypt, Atlantis and the Old Testament render these claims as little more than curiosities.

The club has had a distinguished roster, though some feel the need to extend posthumous membership to every historical figure of import, real or imagined. In truth, the Century Club's members have been more likely to be influential than famous. Mystics attribute this to the sophisticated numerology and astrology behind many of the club's rules, specifically those pertaining to membership. All members must have a birth date of numerological significance, though what determines significance has always been shrouded in mystery. This rule has put a natural limit on the number of members, but has ironically resulted in a wider variety among the members, as the criteria cut across all cultural and social strata.

Like most such clubs, the Century Club exists primarily to provide its membership an opportunity to mix and mingle in a comfortable social environment. Beyond that goal, its charter is one of philanthropy and the promotion of the arts and sciences. The club grants numerous scholarships annually and has funded scientific projects and expeditions throughout its history. With chapter houses in many of the world's major cities, the club is a truly international organization, and has contacts (and members) in many places of importance.

Naturally, the club draws a shroud of mystery over its inner workings. Generations of contributions have made the club a financial power in its own right, and those finances, as well as the membership roster, have always been controlled by an inner circle of officers, called Decarions, who are the most respected members of the club and who are chosen on the first day of each new decade.

It is rumored that there is another circle within the Decarions, of Centurions, who wield the real power of the club, but such rumors are as inevitable as they are fanciful.

the Truth

Well, perhaps not so fanciful as all that.

The Centurions are far more than a rumor. They are the true backbone of the Century Club, and their story is a strange one. Though there have been exceptions, the primary criterion for a Centurion is his or her birth date: the first day of the first year of each century.

As mundane as this distinction seems, it touches upon something much more important. Born along with each century is a collection of exceptional individuals with the potential to shape the coming century for good and ill. Possessed of long lives and exceptional capabilities, the Centurions use the Century Club as a meeting place, bastion of like-mindedness, and a safe refuge in times of distress.

Most importantly, a great number of Centurions are the characters created by the players. When creating a Centurion, there are only two limitations: The character must have been born January 1st, 1901, and must be a member of the Century Club (which, progressive institution that it is, has accepted female membership since 1849, and has members of every nationality).

Membership is sponsored, at times posthumously, by a Centurion of the previous generation. Indeed, most of the recent sponsorships have been posthumous, as the senior Centurions (each born January 1st, 1801) who had survived from the Nineteenth Century into the present day, were wiped out, seemingly to a man, in the Great War, or shortly thereafter.

But the truth runs deeper than that. Deeper in fact, than the Centurions themselves suspect.

About the chicago chapter

The year is 1939. A war is raging on the other side of the globe. Folks in the home front stay optimistic as befits the time, but the less savory parts of society take advantage of the diversion.

It's Chicago on an oppressively hot day in the city. Heat roils off the pavement, and the broads working Wells and North Ave. are wearing less than usual. City folk stare at the pyramid of Blue-Ribbon Pabsts while driving by the local standos about as lasciviously as a peeping tom on the prowl. The air is dead. The Chicago Century Club sits on the Magnificent Mile, with the waterfront not far behind it. An elegant building, done in art deco for the onlooker, with classic European leather club chairs and delicate cherry whorls for walls. But for all its procedure and fanciness, the entire Chapter house and its delicate cherry whorl walls are sweating like a Kraut trying to tell a joke to a Johnny Doughboy.

The Krauts. Causing a muck-a-muck across the pond. Word at the scuttlebutt's that the Nazis are sharpening their knives. Some eggheads say it'll be France, others, Poland. The Reich controls the Gerries now, done turned the place into a downright mystery. Century Clubs all over the world, but most of all in Europe, are all on edge, their ears to the ground for the last few years now, ever since ol' Dolf and his gang of Thule thugs put THE spell on a post-Great War German population.

Speaking of spells, most centurions are chewin' their fingernails over the rumor that the Ahnenerbe- you know, the ritualist Schutzstaffel brainchild of Heinrich himself, have unearthed ancient zauberwerk hidden in the Murg Valley near Baden-Baden in the Black Forest. Whatever Irministic mischief 'Dolf an his folks are stirring up smells worse than an Easter egg cracked at Christmas.

Maybe they turned up the thermometer in Chicago by otherworldly means. Alls anyone knows, though, is that since Prohibition went up in 1933 and the Century Club turned to support Europe, the camorra elements in the city got their dirty little hands in everything. With Al Capone's empire in Frank Nitti's hands, Paul Ricca, Nitti's under boss is growing the syndicate westward with interests as far as the teamsters over in California. The amount of guns, smack, and gambling are all at record highs, just like the greenbacks lining the fuzz's pockets. The mob would tell you that it's all part of the American Dream.

The American Dream. It's still alive and well. An interest dichotomy has emerged. Everyone is stressed out by the war, but lining their kitchens with Tupperware, microwave ovens- along with the meals ready to go, and eagerly awaiting the next breakthrough in electronics.

Across the pond, a kid named Alan Mathison Turing is arguing with a professor named Ludwig Wittgenstein about the foundations of mathematics, and eyeballing a job with Professor Newman in an obscure little 19th century estate in Buckinghamshire. He's writing a journal of some of his private studies into the very relationship between math and reality. Folks in the London Century Club chatter about him like scullery maids, while the Decarions are concerned and curious about where his scholarly wanderings might lead. There are cases in human history where the study of numbers has led to…well, unsavory situations.

Back to Chicago. The Decarions of the Chicago Chapterhouse: Martin Root, Helene van der Rohe, and Mortimer Griffin, have made an admirable job of keeping the Club socially and civically active through the Great Depression. The movers and shakers of Chicago, even some of the not-so-legal ones (so as to keep an eye on them, of course), still spend the occasional evening at a Club soirée or at luncheon in the Wedgewood room. Down the hall from the Wedgewood is a non-descriptive door- one that isn't mark at all. Australian Buloke. Impossible to crack. Helene van der Rohe is the only one that ever uses that door, which is convenient, as her office is right across the hall. No one thinks to ask what secrets it might hide, they just think of it as...well, a broom closet.

Basics of play

the Ladder

Most things in the system are rated according to a “ladder”, rated from 8 (Exceptional) down to -2 (Terrible).

• 8 - Exceptional

• 7 - Epic

• 6 - Fantastic

• 5 - Superb

• 4 - Great

• 3 - Good

• 2 - Fair

• 1 - Average

• 0 - Mediocre

• -1 - Poor

• -2 - Terrible

Usually, the adjectives are used to describe things – someone might be a Good Pilot or Poor at Academics The adjectives and numbers are interchangeable, so if a player or GM is more comfortable with numbers, it is equally valid to say Pilot: +3 or Academics: -1 The best compromise is often to use both, as in a Pilot: Good (+3) or a Academics: Poor (-1) On this scale, Average represents the level of capability that someone who does something regularly and possibly professionally, but not exceptionally.

Most people are Average at the things they do for a living, like Science for a scientist, and are Mediocre or Poor at most other things. It is only when they are driven to excel that they surpass those limits.

Pulp heroes push the very boundaries of what “normal” people are capable of, and as such, they tend to be Superb at whatever their central passion is. This means that pulp heroes (and Centurions in particular) are genuinely exceptional individuals, and are frequently recognized as such.

dice rolling

Whenever a player rolls dice, they roll four 6-sided dice to generate a result 4 and -4.

A result of 1 or 2 is considered a -1, 3 or 4 are ignored, and 5 or 6 are considered +1.

If a dice roll result is 3 3 5 6, then the roll is +2.

If a dice roll result is 2 1 3 4, then the roll is -2.

The total of the dice is then added to an appropriate skill to get the final result. This result can be referred to as the effort made, but sometimes, it’s just “the result”.

When a player rolls for a result, they are trying to meet or exceed a target value, which is the difficulty for the roll. Difficulties are measured using the Ladder.

The difference between the effort and difficulty is the magnitude of the effect, which is measured in shifts. Shifts are used by the GM to determine the potency of the character’s efforts and to govern the resolution of complex actions.

skills

Characters have skills, like Drive and Guns, which are rated on the ladder. Considered on the most basic level, skills represent what your character can do. When a character rolls the dice, he usually is rolling based on his skill.

Nearly every action that the character might undertake is covered by his skills. If he doesn’t have a skill on his sheet, either because he didn’t take it or the skill itself doesn’t exist, it is assumed to default to Mediocre.

aspects

Characters also have a set of attributes called aspects. Aspects cover a wide range of elements and should collectively paint a picture of who the character is, what they’re connected to, and what’s important to them (in contrast to the “what can they do” of skills). Aspects can be relationships, beliefs, catchphrases, descriptors, items or pretty much anything else that paints a picture of the character. Some possible aspects are:

• Quick Witted

• Sucker for a Pretty Face

• Rough & Tumble

• Irish

• Dapper Devil

• Stubborn like a Mule

An aspect can be used to give you a bonus when it applies to a situation. Doing this requires spending a fate point (see below). In this capacity, called invoking an aspect, it makes the character better at whatever it is they’re doing, because the aspect in some way applies to the situation (such as “Dapper” when trying to charm a lady).

An aspect can also allow you to gain more fate points, by bringing complications and troubling circumstances into the character’s life. Whenever you end up in a situation where your aspect could cause you trouble (such as “Stubborn” when trying to be diplomatic), you can mention it to the GM in the same way you mention an aspect that might help you. Alternately, the GM may initiate this event if one of your aspects seems particularly apt. In either of these two cases, this is called compelling an aspect, and its effect is that your character’s choices are limited in some way. If the GM initiates or agrees to compel the aspect, you may get one or more fate points, depending on how it plays out.

Fate points

Every player begins the first session of the game with a number of fate points (FP) equal to how many aspects he has, usually ten. Fate points give players the ability to take a little bit of control over the game, either by giving their character bonuses when they feel they need them, or by taking over a small part of the story. Fate points are best represented by some non-edible token, such as glass beads or poker chips. (Previous experiments with small edible candies have left players strapped for points!)

Characters may, at any point, spend a fate point to gain a bonus, invoke an aspect, tag an aspect, make a declaration, or fuel a stunt.

Gain a Bonus – A fate point can be spent to add 1 to any roll of the dice, or improve any effort (such as an attack or defense) by 1. In practice, this is the least potent way to use a fate point – you’re usually much better off using one of the other applications, below. (Most games get rid of this rule once their players get comfortable using aspects; you can, too.)

Invoke an Aspect – Aspects (see above, page 9) are those things that really describe a character and his place in the story. When you have an aspect that’s applicable to a situation, it can be invoked to grant a bonus. After you have rolled the dice, you may pick one of your aspects and describe how it applies to this situation. If the GM agrees that it’s appropriate, you may spend a fate point and do one of the following:

• Reroll all the dice, using the new result, or

• Add two to the final die roll (after any rerolls have been done).

You may do this multiple times for a single situation as long as you have multiple aspects that are applicable. You cannot use the same aspect more than once on the same skill use, though you may use the same aspect on several different rolls throughout a scene, at the cost of one fate point per use.

Tag an Aspect – Scenes, other characters, locations, and other things of dramatic importance can have aspects. Sometimes they’re obvious, and sometimes they’re less so. Players can spend a fate point to invoke an aspect which is not on their own character sheet, if they know what the aspect is. This is referred to as tagging an aspect.

As a rule of thumb, tagging someone or something else’s aspects requires a little more justification than invoking one of your own aspects. For scene aspects, it should be some way to really bring in the visual or theme that the aspect suggests. For aspects on opponents, the player needs to know about the aspect in the first place, and then play to it.

Power a Stunt – Some stunts have particularly potent effects, and require spending a fate point when used. If a stunt requires a fate point to be spent, it will be made clear in the description.

Make a Declaration – You may simply lay down a fate point and declare something. If the GM accepts it, it will be true. This gives the player the ability to do small things in a story that would usually be something only the GM could do.

Usually, these things can’t be used to drastically change the plot or win a scene. Declaring “Doctor Keiser drops dead of a heart attack” is not only likely to be rejected by the GM, it wouldn’t even be that much fun to begin with. What this can be very useful for is convenient coincidences. Does your character need a lighter (but doesn’t smoke)? Spend a fate point and you’ve got one! Is there an interesting scene happening over there that your character might miss? Spend a fate point to declare you arrive at a dramatically appropriate moment!

Your GM has veto power over this use, but it has one dirty little secret. If you use it to do something to make the game cooler for everyone, the GM will usually grant far more leeway than she will for something boring or, worse, selfish.

As a general rule, you’ll get a lot more leniency from the GM if you make a declaration that is in keeping with one or more of your aspects. For example, the GM will usually balk at letting a character spend a fate point to have a weapon after he’s been searched. However, if you can point to your “Always Armed” aspect, or describe how your “Distracting Beauty” aspect kept the guard’s attention on inappropriate areas, the GM is likely to give you more leeway. In a way, this is much like invoking an aspect, but without a die roll.

Fate Points are refreshed at the beginning of a new “scene”. GMs may withhold refreshment if the last session ended on a cliffhanger, for example.

Character creation