GURPS Space continues to be one of the best resources for a science fiction campaign in the industry today.

Originally Published March 18th, 2002

CONTENTS

The goal of GURPS Space is simple: To provide an authoritative resource and reference for any conceivable science fiction campaign set in the wide universe beyond Earth’s atmosphere. For a GM it is a toolbox for any campaign set in the broad genre of “space adventure”. For the GURPS product line it is a centralized resource for the same (both GURPS Traveller and Transhuman Space, for example, reference GURPS Space as a place to find more detailed information on a variety of subjects).

Creating a Universe: The first goal of GURPS Space is to help the GM build their own worlds of starfaring adventure. Indeed, the first chapter of the book is called Creating a Universe. Here we find a detailed survey of SF campaign types, alien races, and interstellar societies and organizations. Later in the book we are given an absolutely stunning (and scrupulously scientifically accurate) star and planet generation system.

This really sums up everything that GURPS Space does well: On the one hand, you receive a comprehensive survey of seventy years of science fiction world-building. On the other hand, you are given a centralized reference with a hard science backing.

Technology: In addition to everything you would expect in a sourcebook of this kind (personal gear, weapons, medicine, starships, etc.), GURPS Space also takes the time to provide guidance on how to choose the technology of your campaign setting. How is actual technological improvement likely to happen? How has science fiction predicted future history in the past? What are the effects of different technologies on a setting? All of this discussion obviously backed up by a tremendous amount of research.

Rules: There are two major rule systems to be found here – Space Combat and Starship Design. The latter is a stripped down version of the system found in GURPS Vehicles (with accompanying conversion notes); the former is flexible and fairly simple (by GURPS standards).

BAD STUFF

The perceived utility of GURPS Space has been degraded, I think, by the continued expansion of the GURPS product line. For a book which has long been perceived in the industry as the resource for science fiction campaigns, it is somewhat disheartening to note just how frequently GURPS Space refers you to other products in the GURPS line: GURPS High Tech, GURPS Ultra Tech, GURPS Ultra Tech 2, GURPS Bio-Tech, and GURPS Vehicles — among others – are constantly being referenced and recommended. In this third edition, some sections of GURPS Space no longer read like a sourcebook: They read like a teaser for a plethora of GURPS products. Perhaps it is inevitable that the chapters on technology look like a stripped down GURPS Ultra Tech and the chapters on starships look like a stripped down GURPS Vehicles — but one is forced to question the utility of a centralized sourcebook if the meat has been distributed elsewhere.

GURPS Space is also beginning to show its age. Despite the revision by the (justly) renowned David Pulver, the book seems scarcely touched by the science fiction of the past twenty years. Subjects such as terraforming and nanotechnology are relegated to nothing more than sidebars. The elegant design and adaptation of galactic civilizations such as those found in Brin’s Uplift novels and Vinge’s A Deepness in the Sky and A Fire Upon the Deep are conspicuously absent. The list of favorite authors found on page four of GURPS Space really says it all: Not one new author of the past twenty years can be found on that list.

I also question the organization of GURPS Space: A lot of key information seems to get relegated to the sidebars, but – more importantly – information has not been drawn together into rational packages:

For example, Chapter 1: Creating a Universe gets things started – providing some basic information about alien races, interstellar societies, and sci-fi organizations. Things appear to be progressing logically with Chapter 2: Choosing Technology, which begins to discuss the wide range of technology which has been presented in science fiction over the years. But this discussion is then interrupted by Chapter 3: Characters – which includes more information about alien races and some discussion of character roles.

In Chapter 4: Gadgets, however, we return to the discussion of technology – computers, air marks, communication devices, and some other personal equipment is discussed. Chapter 5: Weapons and Chapter 6: Medicine proceed logically out of this, and then we move onto Chapter 7: Environments – which discusses game rules for gravity, atmosphere, radiation, and the like. But then, incomprehensibly, we’re back to technology again with Chapter 8: Starships. Chapter 9: Space Combat proceeds logically from that, but Chapter 10: Stars and Worlds and Chapter 11: Civilizations seem to take us all the way back to the material in Chapter 1.

And that’s just the chapter organization. Things are equally confused as you begin breaking things down inside those chapters, as well. This lack of organization results in a product which proves less useful as an active guide to the new GM (because there is no conceptual flow to the material), and more difficult to use a quick reference (because related information may – literally – be found at opposite ends of the book).

GOOD STUFF

That being said, GURPS Space is still well worth your cash. After nearly twenty years of on-the-market playtesting, the ruleset found here is about as solid as they come. Plus, as a result of the extreme realism, research, and fidelity which SJG demands of its GURPS product line, GURPS Space is an authoritative supplement to any science fiction campaign. What does exposure to vacuum actually mean? Look it up here. How long does space travel take? Look it up here. What types of stars are there? Look it up here. How do bussard ramjets work? Look it up here. And on and on and on.

On top of that, GURPS Space also provides a near-encyclopedic survey of science fiction universes (despite its failings when it comes to the most recent developments of the field). When it comes to the creation of an SF universe, this needs to be your first stop: Nothing else will lay out the plethora of options available to you with a greater eye towards giving you the tools and options you need to create the world you want.

CONCLUSION

It doesn’t matter whether your SF is hard, soft, space opera, military, or fantasy; it doesn’t matter whether you universe reaches from here to Luna or here to Andromeda; it doesn’t matter whether you’re playing GURPS or Spelljammer: GURPS Space should be on your shelf.

Style: 4
Substance: 4

Authors: Steve Jackson and William A. Barton (Third Edition Revised by David Pulver)
Company: Steve Jackson Games
Line: GURPS
Price: $22.95
ISBN: 1-55634-390-6
Production Code: 6005
Pages: 176

There was a time when my first impulse — and that of many gamers — when starting a new campaign was to reach for the most appropriate GURPS supplement. In recent years, this is a habit I’ve drifted away from. (Likely, in no small part, due to how easy the internet makes direct research.) Revisiting GURPS Space, though, I’m reminded of just how useful these supplements are, and I’ve pulled this back off the shelf to use as a resource for my Mothership open table.

GURPS 3rd Edition has, in the years since this review was first written, been replaced by GURPS 4th Edition, and this has brought with it a new edition of GURPS Space. I’ve never truly dived into the new edition, instead simply maintaining my existing library of 3rd Edition supplements, so I’m afraid I don’t have much to say about that. (Except that apparently even more material has been jettisoned, as the new edition requires a separate GURPS Spaceships.)

For an explanation of where these reviews came from and why you can no longer find them at RPGNet, click here.

This is the tomb of Strongbow, aka Earl Richard de Clare, in Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin. Richard was an English nobleman who, through a complicated series of treaties, wars, and arranged marriages, was instrumental in making the Kingdom of Leinster subject to the English King Henry II. This fascinating history – and the many terrible and tragic events it begat – is not our primary focus here, but rather the tomb itself.

If you take a closer look at the effigy atop the tomb, you can see a rather noticeable dent atop its head:

This is not, as I first surmised, a cold-hearted allusion to Strongbow being killed by a strong blow to the head. It is not, in fact, an original feature of the effigy at all.

Instead, for several hundred years, it became customary in Dublin for business contracts, debt payments, and other business to be formally witnessed at Strongbow’s tomb. At the conclusion of each deal, a coin would be scraped across the head of the effigy for good luck. The original reason for this practice is variously disputed (possibly having something to do with checking whether a coin was a forgery by scraping it across hard stone), but the end result of such use after centuries was wearing a hole in the statue’s head.

This is a fun bit of history. It’s also exactly the sort of detail that can make your campaign world come alive: Whether the PCs are signing a contract or shadowing a banker doing business, it gives a bit of vibrant life to an otherwise forgettable interaction. It turns the generic into the specific. It draws you deeper into the world.

To add these kinds of details to your own campaign world (assuming you’re not pulling them directly from history), look for the use beyond use.

There will be plenty of stuff in your world that has a simple, straightforward, utilitarian purpose. Just choose one of these, and then­­­—

FIRST: ADD A SECOND USE. Ideally one discordant or at least orthogonal from the original use. So, for example, the tomb (primary) is also a place for moneychanging. (Or, conversely, you start with a place for ratifying contracts and decide that it could be the tomb of an important king. Our real world example can work either way.) Other examples could include:

• The blacksmiths of Maernath are also innkeepers for fire elemental traders, who book “rooms” in their forges.
• Contracts and treaties with the elves are “signed” by magically carving their initials into a tree in Dryads’ Grove. The ritual embodies the tree with a fey spirit, creating the dryad who protects the tree and adjudicates the agreement. Important agreements may have a single, dedicated tree. Less important agreements may share a tree, with a single dryad perhaps serving as adjudicator for dozens or hundreds of contracts. (The agreements, of course, are only considered binding for as long as the tree stands. And, vice versa, a broken agreement may cause a tree to die.)
• The altar of Kingsbury Cathedral is also where mothers are taken during labor so that their children might be born in a state of blessing.

SECOND: ADD A DETAIL. This should, like the hole scooped out of Strongbow’s skull, evoke the second use, making it manifest in the game world. Often these will be quite obvious, but the important thing is that the detail serves as a curious point of interest – something that will make a player ask, “Hey. What’s going on here?”

• The forges of Maernath having “viewing ports,” often accessible from the outside of the building, where visitors can call upon and chat with the elemental visitors.
• An elf lad seeking vengeance for the death of a contract tree that ruined his mother carries a stake of the tree’s wood, intent on plunging it into the heart of those he holds responsible.
• The Kingsbury altar has a contoured top. Some say it has been worn away through countless births; others that it was made that way when the altar was replaced in 1219 so that the mothers could be more comfortable. One tale claims the stone was burnt away by the buttocks of goddess who reputedly gave birth to a demigod on the altar.

You can, of course, add additional details as appropriate, but often less is more, and the important thing is weaving these elements into the life of your campaign.

I recently finished listening to the Dungeon Crawler Carl audiobooks written by Matt Dinniman and performed by Jeff Hays. I then immediately went back to the beginning of Book 1 and began reading the whole thing over again from the beginning, something which I’ve only done on the rarest of occasions for individual books and which I’ve literally never done for a full series before. The result is astonishing, because with the revelations of the later books in mind, the second time through is often like reading a whole new story. Dinniman’s plotting, character work, and worldbuilding are not only excellent; they’re simultaneously working on multiple, interwoven levels all at once. It’s dizzyingly brilliant.

So, in short: The hype is real. This series is insanely good. If you haven’t read it yet, you should seek it out with all haste.

This is not, however, a review of Dungeon Crawler Carl. If it were, I would talk about how the series’ themes are a vital response to the current zeitgeist; how Dinniman’s deconstruction of the LitRPG genre is perfectly mirrored by Carl’s diegetic destruction of the game; the deeply compelling plotting techniques centered around disrupted vectors, and how juggling those vectors almost “forces” the books into the aforementioned multilayer handling of not only plot, but also character and world.

Instead, though, I want to discuss a thought I’ve been mulling throughout the series: If you were a GM and a player came to you and said, “I want to play a Dungeon Crawler Carl roleplaying game!” what, exactly, would that mean?

This is not, it should be noted, about Renegade Games’ upcoming Dungeon Crawler Carl RPG, although it could obviously be relevant for that game. In truth, it’s not even specific to Dungeon Crawler Carl – it could apply equally well to Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or Marvel superheroes. Dungeon Crawler Carl does provide a particularly useful example, however, and so, although I’ll do my best to minimize them, the following discussion will contain meaningful spoilers for the books.

SPOILERS

Dungeon Crawler Carl begins with apocalypse. The eponymous Carl is outside when every building, vehicle, and other manmade structure is abruptly sucked into the ground, killing everyone within. A few moments later, a planetwide announcement explains what’s happening: A galactic civilization – or, more accurately, the Borant Corporation – has claimed Earth’s resources. The survivors will be offered the opportunity to enter the World Dungeon and the “crawler” who emerges victorious from the dungeon’s eighteenth level can reclaim the planet.

… except, as we discover soon after, in thousands of similar seasons, no crawler has ever reached the eighteenth level, let alone won it.

Plus, it turns out the mining rights are almost an afterthought at this point: The real money is in entertainment. The entire ‘crawl is streamed live to quintillions, creating a massive stream of revenue in the form of subscriptions, sponsorships, advertising, merchandise, and more.

Carl, of course, enters the dungeon, and what he discovers is a pretty standard LitRPG setup: There are vast underground corridors stocked with monsters. To survive and thrive, he needs to kill the monsters, loot their corpses, and level up.

As the series continues, however, these simple tropes are eroded and washed away: The dungeon itself becomes infinitely more complicated, revealing not just the artifice of its storytellers, but the far more poignant saga of its workers, legacies, and organic mythologies which stretch back over thousands of years. More importantly, the dungeon is revealed to be a major focal point for interstellar politics, and Carl quickly finds himself entangled in a web of corporate intrigue and corruption which extends far beyond the dungeon itself. Everything is woven together – a comprehensive system of oppression, the true scope and nature of which even those perpetuating the system don’t fully understand.

So your player comes to you and says, “I want to play a Dungeon Crawler Carl roleplaying game!”

The traditional default for an RPG is that this means “I want to create and play a character in that world!” So what you’d do is faithfully recreate the Borant World Dungeon – translating and expanding the lore from the novels into a useful setting gazetteer and/or playable scenarios. You’d likely kick off your campaign by playing through the same apocalypse described in the opening scenes of the series. The PCs would have their own adventures, of course, but they’d be playing alongside the canonical events of the original series. Maybe they’d have a chance to meet characters from the books like Carl, Ellie, and Imani, or maybe this is an alternate reality where those characters don’t exist and the PCs will have to find their own way.

This default is so engrained, in fact, that you’re more likely than not thinking to yourself, “Well, of course that’s what you’d do.”

But in many ways, this experience will be missing many of the elements that your player likely loved about the books. For example, as you’re reading Dungeon Crawler Carl, Dinniman is constantly revealing radical new truths about the setting that completely revolutionize your understanding of what’s really going on. If you just carbon copy the setting, of course, this revelatory experience – this thrill of discovery that transforms and expands the experience – will be completely absent: The player will already know all of the setting’s secrets.

So when a player says, “I want to play Dungeon Crawler Carl!” maybe what they’re really saying is, “I want a megadungeon story of epic scope where I’m learning the hidden secrets of the universe!” Or maybe it’s some other aspect of the story – “I want a zero-to-hero story where we overthrow galactic tyrants!” – that they’re hoping to experience. Either way, what they’re looking for isn’t the Borant World Dungeon; it’s their own dungeon.

This is the approach Luke Crane took with Burning Empires, an RPG adapting the Iron Empires graphic novels by Christopher Moeller. In the original space opera story, alien mind control parasites invade a colonial world. Rather than detail the world of the original story, however, Crane implemented a robust procedure – played out alongside character creation – by which the entire group creates their own world, including competing factions and geographic features, for the aliens to invade.

You’ll notice, of course, that these two desires – I want to play in that world! vs. I want to live that experience! – can very easily be in direct conflict with each other: If I wanted to play a campaign set on the same world as the Iron Empires graphic novels, I’d be disappointed with Burning Empires setting the game on a different one. If I wanted to be the Big Damn Hero who saves the ‘verse, I’d be disappointed if my character just heard about those events on a news broadcast.

Here’s another desire: I want to play Carl! Not another character in the same setting; not a character like Carl. I want to literally play Carl and have a pet cat named Donut. (And maybe this means playing through the same events of the original story. Or maybe an alternative reality where events diverge. Or maybe it’s playing Carl in a completely different setting.)

I’ve seen this idea – of playing an established character instead of creating your own – get a wild amount of pushback over the years. (There are still people who will go on lengthy rants about TSR’s Indiana Jones RPG in the ‘80s that defaulted to playing Indiana Jones himself.) But it’s really not that different from an actor taking on the role of Hamlet, even though thousands of actors have done so before. It’s a unique creative challenge and there’s a reason why kids love pretending to be Luke Skywalker to Batman or Bluey, not just a generic Jedi, superhero, or talking dog.

And, again, if this is the itch that’s driving your player to the gaming table, it may not be scratched by the other approaches.

CONCLUSION

None of these desires are wrong and none of them are right. In fact, although they may contradict, they can just as readily complement and overlap each other.

The point is that, if you want to deliver the experience your players desire, you’ll often need to dive past the superficiality of their request and think a little more deeply about what experience they’re actually looking for.

Strangely, this can also apply to yourself. If you ever launch a Star Wars game with great excitement only to find yourself oddly dissatisfied with the result, take some time to really think about what you truly wanted from “a Star Wars game” and why your game didn’t achieve it. This will usually mean also talking with your players and making sure you get on the same page about how the game should work.

Alexandrite members of the Alexandrian Youtube Channel can check out the latest After Action Report: This one taking a look at what a sequel session in my Mothership open table looks like.

Check It Out!

But before they slept, they committed one last act of divine betrayal. They fell upon one of their beloved named Gellasatrac, shredding him completely so that one future day their servants could feast upon his flesh and his blood and be changed. Gellasatrac’s ebon hand would bring blessed mutation and lovely transformation, granting those who dared partake the power to free the masters once and for all.

This lorebook venerates Gellasatrac, the “Martyr of the Galchutt”, who is described as “the dead god whose flesh was of our flesh; whose will is of our will; whose power shall be of our power”. He is the one who “shall Sleep not, nor Walk not”.

THE TOUCH OF GELLASATRAC: Before he became the “Maggot of Chaos”, Gellasatrac is described as the “Disciple of Jessuk” and the “Twister of Flesh”. “Where his touch writhed, so were our mortal frames transformed and our souls the flames of crucibles.”

Those so “gifted” are described as having their very bodies transformed through his powers. Gellasatrac raised up great, slavering hordes of chaos-touched malformities and fed the armies of the Galchutt with their misshapen, empowered bodies.

THE HAND OF GELLASATRAC: “And in those times when the powers of chaos shall wax and the Night of Dissolution shall come, the Ebon Hand of Gellasatrac shall return unto those true of their faith and so shall his legacy be fulfilled.”

THE LEGACY OF GELLASATRAC: “Let his blue blood be drunk into the pores of the soul. Let his black bile be vomited from the slit-wound of the mouth. And so shall he live in your flesh.”

DESIGN NOTES

This is a natural companion piece to Touch of the Ebon Hand, the chaos lorebook describing a cult dedicated to the worship of Gellasatrac (a name given, unless I’m mistaken, only in The Night of Dissolution). The trick with this sort of thing is to include enough information so that each lorebook makes sense, while also giving each lorebook unique information so that each is a revelation to be prized.

I’m also doing some setting weaving here: Jessuk is a god from my pantheon of Demon Gods, one who has been set above the Galchutt in order to integrate them into the Demon Court.

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