Notes Toward a Steampunk Discworld Game

[Phil Masters]

For personal reasons, I decided that I can only run one game session at UK Games Expo this year, and circumstances meant it had to be a new one. So I was tossing up between my two main GURPS projects of recent years -- the Discworld RPG and Steampunk -- when it occurred to me that I might as well not bother choosing. After all, the Disc was getting pretty much steampunk by the time of the last novel, so why not project that on a bit?

So that's what I've said I'm going to do. And I'm dropping my general thinking about the setting here, for commentary and borrowing.

Note that this isn't intended to be an unauthorised continuation of Terry Pratchett's great work, let alone a "logical" projection of the setting history he described. It's just an excuse to use all the tasty secondary setting material -- the maps, the place names, the assorted races, the Discworld RPG -- for a steampunk game.

I decided to project things on by at least fifty years, and maybe a hundred, mostly so I could kill off pretty well all the characters from the books, and drop in as much TL6+ technology as took my fancy. Actually, I'm labelling the setting as TL(5+1), heading into TL(5+2), but it's the Discworld; the Rule of Cool applies above all. If I want to use anything from any GURPS steampunk book, as-yet-published or not (bwah hah hah), I will. (Narrativium even ensures that airships can work!) To get the proper late-Victorian feel, I think I need to continue the Rise of the Middle Classes, as seen in the novels. To make this a useful game system, well, some things have to go wrong.

Ankh-Morpork

The problem with, and for, Lord Havelock Vetinari was that he was an impossible act to follow. He knew that he was mortal, and did his best to train up successors who could keep his beloved, despised city safe, but by the end, he had to accept that none of them were him. Some historians wonder why he didn't seek to become a vampire -- he had contacts, and vampires were quite well tolerated in the city by the end of his life -- but those who have gained some access to his private writings (still some of the city's most closely-guarded secrets) say that he didn't think that his own essential nature would survive the transformation.

At least, that's their best guess. Based on what they've been permitted to read, under a security regime designed by Lord Vetinari.

Anyway, Vetinari actually spent most of the last ten years of his life rebuilding Ankh-Morpork's political system from the ground up, without too many people noticing. When he actually died (allegedly?), a new Patrician was elected, in the old style, and was immediately puzzled to discover that he was only slightly more than a figurehead. The old council of guilds had mutated into a whole hierarchy of councils, with a First Council on top (probably), all selected by a quasi-democratic system that would make Renaissance Venice look simple. Needless to say, being a Vetinari design, it all works, well enough that nobody much wants to knock it down, but not so well as to leave any career politicians with dangerous amounts of time on their hands.

And so Ankh-Morpork continues to dominate the Sto Plains, helped by the fact that it is the centre of modern steam and telegraphic technology (local merchants were quick to jump on board when the electric telegraph was invented). Whether the First Council was entirely wise to release some of Leonard of Quirm's drawings from the deep archives remains controversial, but Ankh-Morpork also dominates in the military sphere these days as a direct result.

But it has rivals, there and elsewhere, also as a direct result. And some of them are hungry, whereas Ankh-Morpork is fat and complacent, at least according to foreign political leaders...

(Basically, Ankh-Morpork's resemblance to Victorian London gets dialled up a couple more notches in this treatment, with added steam-tech. PCs will likely come from there and/or work for the City. The Undertaking has provided the place with an underground railway, "muckbreaker" steamboats fitted with armoured bows ply the Ankh, and steam carriages run people over in the streets.)

Next post; some rival powers.

[whswhs]

Well, it's possibly that Detritus is still around, and quite likely that Cheery Littlebottom is, as she was a young dwarf when she joined the Watch. Otto von Chriek may still be photographing for the Times. It's hardly imaginable that Mr. Slant would not be dominating the legal system, as he has for centuries. At fifty years on Carrot Ironfounderson would be getting up there, but need not be dead yet, though I expect he would be gone after a century.

The important thing is that Vetinari is off the scene, and Vimes, and almost surely Lipwig.

[Phil Masters]

Originally Posted by whswhs

Well, it's possibly that Detritus is still around, and quite likely that Cheery Littlebottom is, as she was a young dwarf when she joined the Watch. Otto von Chriek may still be photographing for the Times. It's hardly imaginable that Mr. Slant would not be dominating the legal system, as he has for centuries. At fifty years on Carrot Ironfounderson would be getting up there, but need not be dead yet, though I expect he would be gone after a century.

The important thing is that Vetinari is off the scene, and Vimes, and almost surely Lipwig.

I’m inclining more towards the 100 year end of the scale than the 50, because of this sort of thing. Technological progress just has to happen as fast as it happens. But yes, even then, thanks to the longevity of some Discworld races, some characters might still be around.

Cheery and Detritus might have decided to retire back to the mountains, though for reasons which will become clearer, they might not have gone back to Uberwald. I could imagine low-key emotional scenes at Vimes’s funeral, or at Carrot’s. But if they’re still on the Force, I’d use them for specific effects. Assistant Commander Littlebottom gets to be the gruff, stern desk-based chief on whom you do not try to get one over, and whom you don’t ask about her legendary career, because that would oblige her to show sentiment. And Captain Detritus... Ah, now, when we say he’s the bedrock of the station in one of the troll neighbourhoods, we are not engaging in anything as un-trollish as metaphor.

Yes, Otto is still in obsessive pursuit of the perfect photograph; he has a steam car with a miniature studio in the back, of course, and there are silly stories that he uses some kind of vampire precognition to get to crime scenes before the Watch. And yes, Carrot is gone, but he may have left offspring. However, they’ve all been very, very respectfully persuaded to leave the city. The problem with having a bunch of people who all very definitely have no claim whatsoever so the throne of Ankh-Morporkis that it only takes one of them forgetting the script, once... I assume that they’ve taken up sheep farming in FourEcks. It fits with the Victorian style, and they somehow get to save on sheepdogs.

[(E)]

A potentially very rich setting.
I've just finished a brainstorming session with my players about a "post fantasy, pre-steampunk, urban fantasy influenced espionage/criminal game set in a Cairo like city" so I've had a few thoughts that might translate.

- The Dwarven East bhangbhangduk company, any large "institution" of the era might fit the feel.
- Larger than life age of sail vessels and steamships built for speed.
- a bewildering array of repeating flintlocks, most taken from history with their unreliability removed.
- the Aching family line head in to a not very small island near Fourecks, having a tradition of bee keeping a descendant naturally heads off to climb Cori Celesti
- a vampire from the temperance movement devoted to the cause trying to instigate alcohol temperance in other races.
- the rise of the eccentric nobleman made rich by the railway.
- a Samuel Johnson analog off to tame the wild spelling of the disc.

[AlexanderHowl]

I do not know, I think that the descendants of Angua and Carrot should probably show up in the campaign (they would be the unofficial royal family). With the death of Angua's older brother in The Fifth Elephant, Angua might inherit her parents possessions, so some of their descendants might be nobility in Uberwald if they are werewolves (the human born descendants of Angua and Carrot would likely go to Anhk-Morpork). It would be interesting if their descendants joined the Watch out of family tradition though as they would help stabilize the city (and Carrot's dwarf parents might still be alive and kicking, so they might also be part of the dwarf community since Carrot was a dwarf and a human).

[Phil Masters]

To be honest, I'm more interested in what's happened to the world than in what's happened to individuals or their families. The point of the exercise is to provide a game setting, remember? I don't want NPCs who'll distract from the PCs.

So:

Überwald

It was all going so well.

The vampire factions were locked in a declining cycle of internal politics, in which Lady Margolotta somehow always came out on top. The werewolf clans were withdrawing to their estates and accepting that they couldn't eat people at whim. The trolls weren't saying much. The human towns were organising proper legal systems. The dwarfs were facing the future with confidence and large profit margins.

Modern industry came to Überwald a little later than it came to the Sto Plains, but when the railway arrived, it brought ideas as well as people -- not least, the idea of steam power itself. Industrialisation hit with a bang. The dwarfs could understand anything that involved lots of metal and meticulous work, while the human towns were full of watchmakers and toymakers who were really good at precision craftsmanship. The two groups began to cooperate, and within a decade, the place was a net exporter of technology. Indeed, smarter folk in Ankh-Morpork found this a little worrying -- but the situation looked manageable.

But then Low Queen Blodwen (once Low King Rhys Rhysson) died -- a little younger than people might have hoped, but not so soon or so suddenly as to cause shock. Everyone, not least Lady Margolotta, had contingency plans in place. There were several candidates for the Low Kingship, but all of the plausible possibilities looked like sensible dwarfs.

Unfortunately, one of the less plausible candidates was not only capable enough to have an outside chance, he had a rare combination of grim determination and mental flexibility. And he found an ally. A human ally. A human journalist ally. (Überwald had newspapers by then, and perhaps Lady Margolotta was a little too set in her ways to factor them into her planning quite enough.) While all of the more plausible candidates were jockeying for votes, he was burrowing into the archives, suborning record keepers, and passing information to his ally -- who was drawing connections and making educated guesses, while being smart and wise enough to avoid drawing attention, until she could publish with certainty. And then, she published, and the mine-spoil hit the steam-powered ventilator system.

What the whistle-blower and the journalist had found actually had very little to do with the current election. It had a lot to do with the previous election, and with subsequent events including the dwarf-troll peace treaty. Among other things, it included a lot of material on a number of remarkably convenient deaths among the dwarf political classes of the time. It was ultimately just speculation, but it was speculation reinforced by some awfully solid, dwarfishly meticulous documentation. And most of it pointed towards Lady Margolotta.

Things went very difficult for several weeks, and only calmed down when Lady Margolotta accepted the inevitable and chose to disappear for a while. It's generally and plausibly believed that she's lying in torpor in some secret tomb somewhere; she'll doubtless come back one day, but she may have to wait a while (and by then, she'll be rather out of touch with social developments and political circumstances). The dwarf election was thrown into confusion, but ultimately went to a moderately conservative candidate -- not the whistle-blower, he still lacked a constituency, though he did land a high position in the new administration. A lot of dwarfs certainly regained their old suspicion of non-dwarfs. Fortunately (or maybe not), dwarf pragmatism kicked in, and the old ultra-conservative faction had been efficiently crushed by Low Queen Blodwen, so the peace treaty with the trolls held good (though it looks horribly shaky sometimes), and the growing friendship with humans was if anything solidified.

The fact is, Überwald has now become mostly a dwarf-human confederation, with a basic philosophy of "It's us against the monsters". Vampires and werewolves have been taught that it's best to stay in the depths of the forests, and the two "true peoples" have decided that technology is the key to their struggle against hostile forces. (You really don't want to argue with a dwarf steampunk vampire hunter, in heavy armour, with psychopolarised anti-hypnosis goggles, axe in one hand and stake-firing shotgun in the other.) And if the rest of the world sees things a little differently, well, so much the worse for them. Come to think of it, in the old days of the Überwald Sorcerous Republic, a bit more of that "rest of the world" was actually part of Überwald...

(Basically, Überwald goes from being Transylvania or medieval Germany to being 19th century Prussia. There are a lot of spiked helmets in play, even if some of them are only four feet off the ground. There are also steam-powered land fortresses.)

The Kneck Valley Region

Things have been a little quieter in the Kneck Valley since Borogravia got the hint, gave up on Nugganism (mostly in favour of a slightly Nugganistic sort of version of Omnianism) and stopped starting wars before the previous ones had even finished. It all looked a little tricky for a while, but eventually some fast diplomatic footwork brought Borogravia into Prince Heinrich of Zlobenia's Greater Kneck Economic League, along with Mouldavia, without anyone actually surrendering their national pride. However, the Borogravians have always kept their membership of the League a little distant, whereas Zlobenia and Mouldavia, with their fine tradition of allying against Borogravia, were fairly happy about ever-closer alliances, and are now often referred to as one state, Zlobenia-Mouldavia.

It was widely hoped that industrialisation would raise all three countries to the sort of wealth levels that would make everyone give up arguing in favour of rolling in money, but unfortunately, they were starting from a situation of lower physical and social capital than Überwald, and industrial take-off here has been slow. And now, the situation is going from uninspiring to downright dangerous. Überwald is becoming increasingly assertive in its foreign policy, and keeps conducting tests of its new steam war machines close to its border with Borogravia -- and Borogravia, which might sensibly be asking for support from its fellow League members, is suffering from an excess of national and military pride, as its politicians speak of its long traditions of Going It Alone...

(Basically, the Kneck Valley is the Austro-Hungarian Empire of the setting, with a twist of France c. 1870 for Borogravia. In other words, moribund and very possibly doomed, but the noodle soup is nice and the opera is good.)

More to follow shortly. Quirm is developing an attitude problem.

[lachimba]

Originally Posted by Phil Masters

For personal reasons, I decided that I can only run one game session at UK Games Expo this year, and circumstances meant it had to be a new one. [/SIZE]

One GURPS game at the convention.

Need more GMs to put games on at conventions

And on that I'm putting in my submissions for LFG Sydney and Eyecon.

[johndallman]

Originally Posted by Phil Masters

Basically, Ankh-Morpork's resemblance to Victorian London gets dialled up a couple more notches in this treatment, with added steam-tech.

This whole idea looks like great fun. It may involve a bit of running away screaming on occasion, but it will have been fun afterwards, honestly.

Something that may involve a lot of screaming happens when the Igors start getting practical with the Alchemists, medicine starts becoming a lot more organised, and the wizards start to feel left out and join in. At that point, you could get something like the bio-thaumatagy of New Crobuzon, and things can get very stylishly grim, with lots of work for adventurers.

[Phil Masters]

That sort of reminds me...

The Ethics of Wizardry

The checks and balances on magic used to be straightforward. Unseen University had a monopoly of magic ... well, competent magic ... well, competent wizard magic ... which was enforced by laws and customs, the purpose and function of which were sometimes well understood, sometimes obscure. Some magic-wielders, UU-trained or not, sometimes got carried away and maybe conquered a bit of the Disc for a few years or centuries, but they usually blew themselves up soon enough, or if they didn't some barbarian hero with a big sword would eventually get through their over-complicated defences. Occasionally, someone from UU would actually come along and enforce the rules.

But the world has grown complicated and populous, with much better communications. The fact that Ankh-Morpork seemed to have a monopoly on wizardry made other cities nervous, and they first recruited ad hoc wizardly forces, then later started establishing their own magical colleges with a view to challenging Ankh-Morpork's unique prestige. And both the UU faculty and Lord Vetinari understood just how dangerous things might get that way.

And so, Ankh-Morpork declared its policy; No First Use of magic in conflicts -- which initially meant warfare, but Vetinari made it clear that he regarded espionage as warfare by other means. Then both UU and Ankh-Morpork looked very hard at both freelance wizards and other states.

The policy worked, especially when dealing with vaguely sensible national leaders (as well as with the many national leaders who assumed that emulating Lord Vetinari was a good way to get more power). Magic in warfare is viewed rather the way that other worlds see WMDs -- or perhaps more specifically, the way that post-WWI nations in our world tended to view poison gas. It's messy, unreliable, excessive, and bad PR. You pointedly refrain.

And at the same time, you study the options and keep some very secure stores, because very few people have a No Second Use policy. Meanwhile, certain parts of academic magic retain their resemblance to, say, particle physics in our world. That stuff is weird, expensive, abstract, and makes your head hurt. And, applied just right, it might make it possible to blow the world up, but nobody likes to talk about that.

The realisation of where things might go if they go wrong has lead to the creation of a specific profession; the State Wizard. These people aren't in the Blowing Things Up business, they're in the Watching Out For Other People Planning To Blow Things Up business. And the Protection Against Magical Spying business, and occasionally the Casting Spells That Are Useful But Don't Directly Injure The Opposition business. They tend to be suave, mildly paranoid, analytical, and ironic. They also have a set of ethics -- in game terms, a 5-point Professional Code -- which formalises those established principles, and which is required by UU and its counterparts. When they remember.

Incidentally, witches have mostly continued to operate under the radar of states and laws, providing health and other services to mostly-rural communities, although a few have been roped in and integrating into the Disc's rather chaotic process of development in medicine. However, a few smaller or more traditional states have recruited "State Wizards" who are actually State Witches. Officially, major powers regard these with disdain and suspicion, because they can't be relied on to have the Professional Code, although most do. Unofficially, smart State Wizards regard State Witches with guarded respect; they aren't always powerful, but they're often shrewd, and they can be worryingly unpredictable.

[Prince Charon]

Originally Posted by Phil Masters

I’m inclining more towards the 100 year end of the scale than the 50, because of this sort of thing. Technological progress just has to happen as fast as it happens. But yes, even then, thanks to the longevity of some Discworld races, some characters might still be around.

Huh. If it's closer to a hundred years, does that mean that Tiffany Aching would already be gone, or would there still be a 'Granny Aching' in the Ramtops?