Wellstone City Wednesday

After some consideration from our time at Tacticon this past weekend, Kevin has decided that it’s time to freshen up Wellstone City a little. The core of what would become Wellstone was written back in 2001-2003. That having been said, there’s issues with technological advancement that some of us older game masters and players can adapt to, but some of the younger players might look at as a little…off…and easy to solve with some simple technology.

We’ll work on that. Wellstone has needed a freshening up anyway, and that may involve creating not just a new version for Savage Worlds, but a companion for Æther as well. This new update won’t invalidate any of the previous adventures, but it will advance the city to something a little newer and prepare the game setting for the next decade and a half, barring some unseen force majure in technology that just changes everything.

We don’t have a timeline on getting this done. Obviously, we have some other projects in the pipe that are very overdue, ranging from Æthermancy to Shadow War to a bunch of Wellstone City Chronicles and Camp Wicakini Five and Six (the last of which MUST have Wellstone updated before it can be released).

We just wanted to know we have you covered for your future needs, and we have a few fun things on deck as well, but we’ll talk about them as we get closer to releasing them. Until then, we submit what will likely become the new Intro fiction piece for Wellstone City:

The hybrid swung silently into the parking spot and the brakes squeaked softly as the red Wellyft car stopped. My phone vibrated; I didn’t even need to look at it to know that it was the notification that my ride was here. I waved quickly and opened the back door. Suicide doors on a hybrid. That exemplified Wellstone City: modern glitz that still manages to hit on the memories of the good old days.

But that’s the problem with Wellstone City. The good old days never left. They just changed. Smart phones, traffic cameras, cryptography, GPS tracking, satellites; none of it changed what we do, they just changed how we do it and it gave those tools to us.

“Hey, Mack,” the cabbie said as I shut the door. “Looks like you’re going to the Warrens, huh? Must be part of the renovation project with that suit,” he said making small talk. He doesn’t recognize me. It’s been ten years. Might as well have been ten lifetimes. Just means I wasn’t the only one, but then, I knew that then when he dropped me off for Morgan to serve on a platter.

The cabbie kept talking as we swung back on the 102 by-pass. I swear it was the same speech he gave before. A guy tends to remember what he’s hearing when everything goes wrong. After all, I was killed just a few hours after hearing it.

Not this time.

This time, it’s my time.

My gun muzzle pushed into the back of his seat. As expected I hit an armored plate. Probably a piece of Cassetti’s hardware. The soft clink, even through the cloth of the fabric broke the cabbie’s prattling.

“I know you,” the cabbie said quietly. “It’s not a polycarbonate window this time, Mack.”

“It’s not the same gun,” was the only thing I could think to say.

“It’s not my fault about what happened.”

“Funny thing about Wellstone. Everyone’s connected to someone. You were on orders from Marv Castillo, Marv had his orders from someone else, and they had their orders. The crazy thing was, Morgan was at the center of it all.”

“I was just the messenger, man. It was business, it wasn’t…” the cabbie said, his eyes slowly growing as a sheen of sweat appeared on his brow. He knew he was done, and he was keeping us in the middle of traffic. It was his only insurance policy; that my need for self-preservation would override my need for revenge. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the speedometer needle pass 80, and I clicked the seat belt.

“I can take you to Castillo! I know where he is! Let me help you, man!” the cabbie was rattled. Rambling. Desperate. I was done talking. The needle was heading for 85. I steeled myself for the explosion of the hand cannon buried in the back of his seat. He wasn’t the only one that upgraded to a little something from Cassetti’s. I braced my arm against the top of the cab and pulled the trigger.

I couldn’t even hear myself laughing over the ringing in my ears. Thankfully the cratered chest of cabbie covered the inside of the windshield so I couldn’t see what was about to happen.