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Battle Royale PBE-mail - warning long story

 Post subject: Battle Royale PBE-mail - warning long story
PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 1:51 am 
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Lance Corporal
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Location: Victoria, BC, Canada
Anyone ever read the novel Battle Royale? Or more likely seen the movie? It's a Japanese story about a bunch of high school kids who are kidnapped, deposited on a deserted island and forced to hunt each other until only one remains.

I always thought it would make a great PBE-mail RPG. given the hidden nature of the game, and the fact that there can be dozens of contestants this type of thing is pretty hard to do in person (with pen and paper).

If enough people are interested I'd love to run a game. I've got a few freinds who will play and if six or more people on here show interest I think it would work out pretty good.

Here is a little set-up to whet your appetite. Don't worry if you've never seen the movie or read the book it doesn't matter (actually it makes it more fun).


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PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 1:55 am 
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Lance Corporal
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Location: Victoria, BC, Canada
The first thing you are aware of is a splitting headache, which feels as if a band has been wrapped around your head and squeezed. Then you notice dryness in your mouth and you immediately crave some water or other liquid to wet your lips with. Your mouth smacks as you attempt to draw in some air to your lungs. Your throat feels scratchy and sore. In fact your whole neck feels strange.

You become aware of a cool metallic band, which surrounds your neck. It is not heavy and does not restrict you in any means, but you can’t seem to be able to remove it.

As you attempt to slowly open your eyes you suddenly realize you don’t remember how you got here. In point of fact you’re not even sure where here is!

As your eyes accustom themselves to the light you slowly take in your surroundings. You are lying on the floor of what appears to be a classroom of sorts. The floor is pale green and tiled. The walls are comprised of cement blocks, which are painted in a light tan. On one wall there is a large dry erase board with a small selection of markers. There are no windows and only one door. The door is peculiar in that it appears to be a large metal sliding door, the kind of which you’d expect to find at the rear of a warehouse or something. The most striking feature of the entire scene is that you are not at all alone.

Surrounding you on the floor is a multitude of people, perhaps two dozen or so. Most of which appear to be emerging from a sleep like state. Everyone seems to be as groggy and impaired as you. You notice that each person seems to be dressed in exactly the same manner, grey coveralls and black hiking boots. You notice that each person is adorned with a large white number, which is sewn onto his or her right beast pocket. You glance down at yourself and see that you too are wearing a number.

What is going on here? You think to yourself. The last thing you can remember is turning in for the night. You climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep eventually. Then you vaguely remember having a violent nightmare about suffocating, a terrible black void smothering you with a great press of force. Then you remember nothing, blackness, oblivion. And, suddenly you wake up here.

As you attempt to wrap your mind around what exactly is going on, the large metal door suddenly slides open, startling everyone in the room. Though the door emerges a host of armed soldiers all clad in grey and green camouflage outfits. They are adorned with black web gear and each man carries an assault rifle. They march into the room and form two short lines of five men each flanking the board at the front of the room. They stand at the ready with rifles in hand and stern looks on their faces.

Before you can react to this alarming event, another person walks into the room. This man is dressed in the same manner as the sentries that preceded him, however he is armed with a holstered sidearm instead of an assault rifle. He carries an air of authority with him as confidently strides to the head of the room. He is carrying what appears to be a remote control device of some sort.

He takes a slow moment to survey the assembled mass before him then speaks.

“Everyone, pay attention this way”.

His words are loud and crisp. His mannerism is one of command rather than request. He almost appears bored as he speaks.

“You have all been selected to take part in a valuable experiment. Your liberties have all been forfeited and you have no choice but to obey our commands and participate.”

The crowd of strangers seems shocked for a moment before one of the more alert members stands up and steps forward.

“This is bullshit! Who are you people? Where are we? You can’t just hold us hostage like this!”

The man in charge simply nods his head slowly, in a knowingly manner. He draws his sidearm from his holster, takes aim and fires one round. There is a loud bang, which causes your body to jump uncontrollably. Several people shout out in surprise and shock. And the man who had just been protesting tumbles to the floor with a gush of blood surging from his head (both front and back).

There is a great surge of panic then, as the crowd cries out and attempts to move about. Some people attempt to flee into the rear of the room, shielding themselves by hiding behind other people. Others get up and make towards the front of the room.

As if on cue, the ten armed sentries bring their rifles up on aim and (&#$@!) their weapons. They appear quite ready to murder every single person in the room at a moments notice. This has an immediate and drastic effect on the crowd. Everyone freezes in position and stops making noise.

The man in charge holsters his weapon and speaks again. “You will all sit down and listen. No one is permitted to speak. If you refuse to immediately comply with my orders you will be shot.”

The mass of strangers appears stunned for just a moment then each person sits where they are. The few people at the front who attempted to give the wounded man aid abandon their hopeless endeavor – the man is clearly dead, shot clean in the forehead.

The man in charge begins to speak once more.

“I am the Commander. I am in charge of briefing you on the experiment and preparing you for the tasks ahead.”

The Commander points the small hand held remote at the ceiling and presses a button. In response a small black rectangular box drops down slowly from a recessed cavity, which you failed to spot earlier. It is obviously a projector of some kind as the board at the head of the room suddenly lights up. It displays a large circular logo with the letters BR displayed across.

“BR stands for Battle Royale. This is the name we give to the three day experiment you are about to undertake.”

He shakes the remote slightly, pressing a button and another screen replaces the BR logo. The image appears to be a map of an island. The island is divided up by a grid ten squares high and ten squares wide. The horizontal squares are labeled with the letters A through J, while the vertical squares are numbered one through ten. The map is adorned with small symbols and letters, which detail a number of locations such as: The South Cliffs, The Village, The Farm and the HQ.

“You are now trapped on the island you see pictured here. The island is nine miles across and nine mile long. There are no boats or aircraft outside of this central HQ compound. You cannot swim off this island, as the intense current will drag you out to sea where you will drown. There is only one way for you to leave this island alive. You must kill every other player in the room.”

He pauses for a moment to allow the shock of his statement to settle in.

“Your objective is to be the sole survivor and win the battle. Everyone else must be dead before three days have expired. In order to track your progress you have each been fitted with a locator beacon.”

Several people grasp at the metallic band sealed around their neck.

“This beacon will allow us to track your progress. Also, each beacon contains a compact and powerful explosive device. If we feel that it is necessary, then we shall remotely detonate this device. This will have fatal consequences for whomever is wearing that device.”

“I should note that any attempts to tamper with the devices would result in detonation.”

“Furthermore, as you can see from the map the island is divided into one hundred zones. At the beginning of the battle you may travel freely over the whole of the island, with exception of zone E-5, the HQ building zone. This is the zone we are all in now. At intervals throughout the day I will make announcements on the public address system, which ranges over the entire island. Each time I make an announcement I shall inform you which zones, if any shall become hazard zones. Hazard zones will become active one hour after they have been announced and stay active until the end of the battle. If you are caught inside or wander into an active hazard zone, then your collar will detonate. You would be wise to make an accurate note of my announcements.”

A sudden rage swells up inside you. Who do these people think they are? You begin to think about rushing the Commander and grabbing a hold of his neck, but then you catch a glimpse of the dead man lying on the floor, blood trailing out from under him.

“In a moments time you will each be issued with a survival pack. This pack contains all the gear you require to fulfill your mission.”

As he speaks two soldiers arrive pushing into the room a large steel cart. Piled onto both levels of this cart are a multitude of black pack packs.

“Inside you will find food, water, a map, compass, a flashlight, a watch and a randomly selected weapon. After you receive your pack you will move quickly and quietly out of the room, down the corridor, out of the front doors and off of the HQ grounds.” You will not open your pack until you have cleared the HQ grounds.

As the Commander explains the rules, you find yourself trying to imagine some way to end this nightmare. All you can think of is rushing the Commander or a guard and getting his gun away from him, but you are sure to get shot down before you reach them. Maybe if you all rushed together, surely some of you will be able to reach the guards and overwhelm them with superior numbers. How do you organize such an attack, however? If you get up and charge first the others may follow your lead, but you are sure to be shot first. What lies beyond this room? More men with guns? You have so many questions and doubts. Your attention is drawn back to the Commanders voice.

“One final note. If there is no clear winner after three days have expired then all remaining active collars shall detonated.”

You scarcely have a moment to absorb this last bit of shocking information before he speaks again.

“You will each depart in numerical order. First, number 1”

There is a stunned silence for a moment then the Commander reaches for his sidearm. Before he can draw the weapon, however, a frightened looking man in the rear of the room gets up suddenly and races up to the metal cart, whimpering as he goes. Once there he is roughly handed one of the black backpacks by the guards and ushered out of the room, with a terrified look still on his face.”

“Number 2!”

A second man rises from the crowd and strides up to the cart. His expression is much more stoic than the last man. It is one of controlled rage rather than fear or terror. One of the packs is deposited in his arms and he too, vacates the room.

“Number 3!”

No one moves. The commander again reaches for his pistol.

“Number 3!”

The Commander surveys the room for a moment, pistol at the ready then he lets out a slight chuckle and replaces his gun in its holster.

“Number 3’s battle was over before it began.”

Several people glance towards the body lying at the head of the room. A considerable pool of blood has gathered beneath the man. The sight sends a twist through your stomach.

“Number 4!”

As the process continues and you wait for your turn to move, you can’t help but think of a thousand questions. Who are these people? What lies outside that door? What kind of weapon will my pack contain? Are the packs predetermined or random? The guards certainly appear to be just grabbing random packs off the rack.

But the biggest question remains, am I going to survive the next three days?


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PostPosted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 7:51 pm 
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Sergeant
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Location: Cambridge, MA
Holden,

I have to say, that sounds pretty sweet. How are you thinking of running the campaign (are you going to use a system, or is it just going to be collective story telling?)

I don't know if I'll have time to play, but keep me posted.


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PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 2:13 am 
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Officer of the Watch
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This sounds really good to me! (Also not sure about participation)

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PostPosted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 10:22 am 
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Recruit
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Sounds cool. Sign me up


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PostPosted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 10:30 am 
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Recruit
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and me.


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PostPosted: Tue May 08, 2007 8:43 am 
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Holden88, did you ever have enough people sign up for this?

Were you able to run it?

How did it go?

Great movie by the way.

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