Creating a Pocketverse Pointcrawl with Rifts

15 May 2024

Recently I had an opportunity to go by an old favorite LGS that I moved away from several years ago: JC's House of Cards! As far as TTRPGs go, their selection is mainly limited to D&D 5e and its ocean of br&nded merch. BUT if you ask JC nicely he's got a cardboard box of rancid 90s RPGs that he'll kick out from the stock room and let you dig through. Most of it is hot garbage (complimentary).

I love the kitsch and unashamed creativity of this stuff, so I'm always looking out for fun stuff to steal. This trip's catch of the day was the Rifts® Dimension Book™ 7: Megaverse® Builder book from Palladium Games, written by Carl Gleba. I don't know shit about Rifts but the cover had some kind of fun Galactus knockoff and obviously I never want to be left out to sea in case I need to build a Megaverse®, so I picked it up.

What is Rifts?

I have never owned, read, or played Rifts. By my understanding it is a science fiction system developed by Big Math to sell more percentile dice.

Ok how am I actually going to use this?

Funnily enough, the actual procedures to build a Megaverse® aren't very involved and only take up a small portion of the book: ~10 pages. The rest of it has a few sample dimensions (including the infinite Garbage Pit world, which whips), a bestiary, additional class rules, and a weird section in the middle with some dramatized play reports from other Rifts GMs.

What this means for me is, even without any Rifts experience, I can reasonably use these procedures to rustle up something interesting without digging too much into the weeds. My first thought was to generate the backdrop of a pointcrawl, so I'm gonna do that!

Dimensional Characteristics

Each of these steps involves rolling a percentile die and consulting tables that range from shockingly small to shockingly detailed. I'm not going to go too in depth on the options I didn't get here, partly because this isn't a readthrough review, partly because the book emphatically states that I can't meaningfully reproduce the text on the internet, and I'm a weenie.

1. Size

The options here are Infinite, Parallel, and Pocket Dimensions. Parallel Dimensions are presented by the book as variations of Earth with funny adjectives in front, while Infinite and Pocket Dimensions are entire alternate worlds. I picked a Pocket Dimension here rather than rolling because I wanted to.

1b. Pocket Dimension Size

Options here include comically small (1d4 miles wide) to mind boggling (3d6x10 billion miles wide). I rolled a 26 here for a result of 2d6x10 miles, which then resolved into 80 miles wide. For those of you born in the Reagan years, that's 13 hexes.

2. Primary Dimensional Medium

This is where the magic happens. The book uses a fishbowl analogy for dimensional mediums: the primary makeup of a fishbowl is water, the secondary makeup is the gravel and ceramic structures on the bottom. Potential options for the primary makeup include Space/Vacuum, Void (different from space???), Atomic Energy, and a Millennium Tree (!!!).

I rolled a 30 here, which gives me a primary medium of Liquid/Fluid. The book specifies that any habitable landmasses here are found in magically bounded air pockets, while the chosen liquid fills every other available space. I don't want to go with water, so I'll take one step away and pick oil as my medium.

3. Secondary Dimensional Medium

This is the stuff where your adventurers are gonna set boots on the ground. I thought I understood this until I looked at the available options, which range from quote "Galaxies with Billions of Solar Systems" to quote "Death!" to, even, quote "Multiple Pocket Dimensions". It's pocket dimensions all the way down, baby.

Or not. I rolled a 9, which helpfully gives me the medium of A Single Solar System. Just a couple of landmasses and a sun in a sea of oil!

4. Density of Dimensional Fabric

This represents how difficult it is to enter into a given dimension, which obviously comes with a % based difficulty modifier that I'm going to ignore. I rolled an 81, which gives me a Strong Dimensional Fabric. I'm going to take this to mean it's got about as many tourists as your average dungeon - maybe a few environmental storytelling skeletons + a rival party.

5. Magic Level

This affects how jazzed your local wizards are gonna be about coming here. Magical energy concentration affects local culture, enemy creature damage, and the possibility of something called Ley Line storms. For my purposes I'm gonna focus more on the cultural impact.

I rolled a 56, which means I've got Intermediate Magic Energy. This means magic/weird stuff is accessible but uncommon, or at least uncommon enough that many mages perform "rituals or blood sacrifice" to get what they want. How exciting!

6. Dimensional Energy Matrix

Frankly I have no idea what this part means. Apparently there are positive and negative energy used to power technology, and they're mutually exclusive or otherwise have an oil/water relationship - positive tech can't function in a negative world, and vice versa.

I rolled a 53 which gives my world Positive energy. I'm gonna take this to mean that the Vibes Are Generally Good rather than evil.

7. Flow of Time

How fast does time pass here? Is it a year-inside-hour-outside situation? Does time pass at all while you're here?? This part's awesome because there's no way for standard characters to even tell if the speed of time has changed until you leave.

I rolled a 6, for Normal Time Flow, but tbh I'd probably just ignore this anyway unless I really wanted to make a wacky plot point out of it. Still, it's good flavor.

8. Dimensional Quirks

Here's some added spice, for all kinds of weird variation. Options range from warped laws of physics to a random number of Dimensional Triangles (no context given on what these guys are).

I rolled a 91, which gives me the relatively self-explanatory Dying Dimension - a world at the end of its life. The book says this process can happen over potentially millions of years, but I'm going to use it to add some tension to this pointcrawl.

Putting it all together

So, to recap:

• pocket dimension, 80 miles wide
• primary medium: oil
• secondary medium: single solar system
• strong dimensional fabric
• intermediate magic energy
• positive energy matrix
• normal time flow
• dying

At this point, the book takes a bow and says it's time for you to cook the rest of the meal (or use the special Rifts® Phase World®: Anvil Galaxy™ book for help generating planets). JC's box of magical garbage didn't have that book, so I'm on my own for making this pointcrawl.

A starting image that I really like is the idea of landmasses in a sea of oil surrounding a bright, bulb-like sun, starkly visible in the dark liquid. I think my high concept here is that the sun is slowly starting to crack - when it bursts, the fire inside ignites the oil, burning the dimension from the inside out.

I'll slap this together using my usual suspects and get back to you in the next section.

Pointcrawl - Milk of Oil

Overview

The world of Lough Berg, a vast ocean of pitch black oil. In the center hangs a white, bulb-like sun, shining coldly.

Each landmass sits in a bubble of oxygen maintained by Lactors, ten foot long slithering amphibians seemingly carved from bismuth. Angler lights sprouting from their foreheads give the impression of tiny stars zipping around the void. They feed on oil and the bubbles mark their territory -- if they smell oil inside of one they'll dive inside from every angle to eat it away.

The landmasses themselves are blackish brown, smell of tar, and squish like a mattress when you step on solid ground. They're connected by bulky cable cars that superheat their outer shells to slide through the oil like butter.

Deadline

Consider a turn to occur whenever the players travel to a new area or waste significant amounts of time. Every two turns, refer to this table to see what happens.

Key

1. Entry

Circular stone pad covered in labyrinthine graffiti under a huge glass dome, the sun cold in the distance. Faded, tattered signage: "Welcome, travelers!" A glass newspaper stand by the door creaks open, full of hand drawn pamphlet maps.

2. Mothball Dock

Pristine metallic yurts in a state of quarantine on an otherwise empty landmass. Inside, notes are strewn on the floor covered in frantic drawings of a perfect globe. On the edges: long piers, seemingly made from a single block of steel, jut into the oil.

Shortly after arriving, Empty Maidens - brutal, blocky excursion suits made to explore the oil - emerge onto the pier. Their insides overflow with brown vines, a natural artificial intelligence yearning to clasp a human within to share their latest findings and never, ever let go.

3. Coolant Zone

Open air factory in disrepair. Half-formed cable cars litter the area like leviathan skulls. An alarm has long since eroded its bell, but the light still blares. Broken pipes spray liquid coolant everywhere, chilling you down to the atoms (DEX damage).

4. Glasshouse Island

Rows and rows of bulbous, fat flora. Their roots cut through the ground and taste the oil below. Petals the color of dried blood drip tarry sap. The whole place smells like a gas station. The bulbs spritz oil like a clown's prank toy when disturbed.

Off to the side, sealed in a hermetic chamber, is a sprig of bachelor's button, labeled as an "unknown gift".

5. Crypt Well

There is no heaven in Lough Berg. Every newlydead's soul spirals into this graveyard until the sun erupts to obliterate their essence. Their combined boredom has manifested a curious flower, the Ethereum Rose. Pricking your finger on its thorns causes everyone you know to firmly believe you're dead. The ghosts are desperate for any new stimulus and burn your thoughts from the inside out (CHA/WIL damage) if you leave without entertaining them.

6. Residential

The houses here are covered in oil, nibbled on by happy Lactors with the noise of distant crunching metal. The scent is overpowering, like stale milk at your grandma's house.

One house is oil-free. Its roof has blown off. Inside sits a blackened, rocket-strapped, cableless cable car prototype that can move freely to any landmass. 10% chance on use to explode, instantly killing everyone inside.

7. Cable Snipper

The isle is empty. Great rectangular dents, miles wide, litter the ground, alongside kaleidoscope tracks of bootprints seemingly roaming the entire space.

A Repair Droid stands by the car connecting to 8, tapping uselessly with a sparking stump. Its right arm contains various cutting implements which it has used to cut the connecting cable. Its left arm, used to repair and reconnect the cable, is detached, and floats 100 feet into the oil, barely visible by the lights of curious Lactors poking at it.

8. Rift Viewing

Circular glass petals blossom from the sides of a massive oblong spike, each reflecting a different vision: empty wastes, pristine wilderness, unknown starscapes.

The largest petal at the top has shattered - a Nexus Maw has broken through. The maw's horrifying body resides in its own pocket dimension and it sends enormous tentacles through weaknesses in spacetime to feed. A small beak occasionally pokes through the opening, nibbling on the Gristle Chestplate, a piece of armor that makes the wearer immune to being eaten.

9. Hub Station

Cable car stations ring this island, though most aren't connected to anything. The center of the isle has been hollowed out - a carved prayer labyrinth winds towards a stone stump in the center. Something was ripped from it. The debris looks recent.

The Archivist Spider crawls from station to station, drawing notes on the ground with spindly legs. It yearns for knowledge, and webs travelers with thin, silky wires until they tell it their life story (this takes a turn).

If the fire reaches this isle, it will fold in on itself until it's quantum sized, then escape the pocketverse.

10. Drowning Isle

Looks like a public park got hit by a hurricane - gazebos, benches, dune-like landscaping. Lactors litter the ground with clear bullet wounds. Without a school to maintain the bubble, the isle is being subsumed by oil. Great gobs dribble from above and the walls are closing in. By turn 8 it will be gone.

Each Lactor has a 1-in-6 chance of hiding a cryogenic landmine underneath (STR+DEX damage), triggered by moving the creature.

11. Visitor

Gunshots ring into the oil. There's static in the air, and a garbled voice. This place used to hold livestock, but it's unclear what kind. Metal obelisks stand like graves next to long, thorned tubes.

Outfield Soldier is here in opalescent power armor. A teleportation accident sent him from a pitched battle to this pocketverse. He's paranoid, adrenaline-fueled, and more alone than he's ever felt. He sits by the cable car going to 10, sniping anyone coming up the path from 6.

12. Solar Viewport

Semicircular amphitheater faces the solar bulb. The chairs are built to recline and bear the marks of use. Gutters line each aisle, caked in the cold remnants of blue fluid, leading down to a dried pool just before the edge of the isle.

Sitting in the pool: a broken, bulky heap of stone. There's a painting made from a similarly blue paste, although clearly fresher: a human, feminine head, looking away from the viewer, towards the sun. Her face and neck are covered in horizontal lines, which on closer inspection are the words "this will be the day" written over and over. Worth $1k to the right buyer.

There is a heap of clothing in front of the statue. Whatever was underneath has long since turned to dust.

Conclusion

The results I got from the generator weren't the wildest on offer, but I still think it helped pull together a cool place. I think if my well was dry and I needed to shock my system for some new creative juice, this isn't the first book I'd go to, mainly because the only actually useful bits here were the dimensional mediums and quirks. That's 3 steps out of 8! That said, something about this was compelling. I love the energy that Rifts is bringing to the table here. It's not clever, it's not beautiful, but it's fun, and that's more than enough for me!