Solo Tabletop RPG Review & Actual Play – Frontier Scum: Lonesome Drifter Part One

Frontier Scum: Lonesome Drifter (Chacolypse)

Download Lonesome Drifter for free here.

Purchase the base game Frontier Scum here.

Read Part Two here.

Directly based on the rules-lite Mork Borg system and its bold graphic design sensibilities, Frontier Scum is a wild, psychedelic take on a classic genre. Like with Mork Borg, the world is painted with broad strokes, just enough detail to evoke your imagination into filling in the rest of the details. Almost immediately, the book explains that it has no interest in bringing up the racist tropes that have been long interwoven in American Westerns, so this takes place in a fictional reality where none of that exists. This makes it much more like Red Dead Redemption, where you can have wildly different environments close together to capture every flavor of Western. There’s a blasted wasteland where prospectors dig for gold, a bustling city run by the Incorporation, a swamp where the dead rise, and a desert where horrors hunger.

To create your character, you roll d4 minus d4 for each stat: Grit, Slick, Wits, and Luck. Every character is wanted for something, which you roll to determine the severity and focus of the crime. These also help you determine how much you are wanted for. Backgrounds are fascinating as you roll d10 to select the profession or identity that defines your character. To pick your Skills, you roll d6 twice on the specific background table, giving you a situation. The player then determines the skill learned from that situation.

For example, If I rolled a Discharged Deputy and then rolled 3 & 4 on a d6, I would be presented with these situations: A skill learned by not sharing your bribes & a skill learned by bringing a sword to a gunfight. The player’s interpretation of these events will differ each time, so the skills you could learn are essentially endless. Your background gets you bonus items; in the instance of the Deputy, it could be a spyglass, a list of d100 wanted outlaws or more. Every player also rolls for a bonus skill unrelated to their Background and a few more items on the item table. 

It wouldn’t be a Western without a horse, which you also roll for at random. You may get a sturdy draft horse or an old nag. You roll for your gun, which comes in all varieties, from pocket concealed to a double-barrel shotgun. Your hat is also a mechanic; before damage is rolled, you may choose to lose your hat and block all damage from a single attack. You can pick your hat back up after the fight, but you have to roll a Luck check to see if it’s still in one piece. Every player also starts with one Ace, which can be used like Scrolls in Mork Borg, with players gaining a new Ace with every session they survive. Combat runs the same as in Mork Borg.

For my game, I rolled up a character and ended up with Hamsor “Sourmash” Pang, a frostbit prospector, wanted Dead for Attempted Arson. He’s outlaw scum with a rebellious attitude and silver-blue skin, indicating he’s been exposed to tremendous amounts of silver dust while digging for his fortune. He was working on a claim miles outside of Dalliance in Dreckgullar’s Desolation, this time searching for the gold that’s rumored to be abundant. Pang did find a good share of it. One of his skills arose from having his gold stolen, and that would be an excellent place to tie in his wanted status and get the game rolling.

Also, I used the Ironsworn Pay the Price move when rolling a Weak Hit to give myself a random consequence. It’s devoid of flavor-specific things and works reasonably well for any game where you need success with a cost.

After the Scotum Brothers stole his gold from him, Pang responded by riding like hell into Dalliance and tried to set their shack ablaze. He was caught by the private police the Incorporation employs to patrol the city and had to flee. Pang has ridden for a whole day to the east, trying to reach Mudslinger’s Ravine, where he believes he can hide out before hopping the ferry to Stubbshead County. Still, nine more days until he reaches the Ravine.

In the late afternoon, Pang came across a young marshall standing beside his horse. Another horse stood to the side, and a bound man sat on top, glaring at the world as if to burn it all with his gaze. The young marshall flagged down Pang.

“Mister! Mister! I lost track of my colleague about three miles back. I need to get this feller to Pigfat Rock by sun up tomorrow. I know I shouldn’t, but do you think you could lead his horse on to the north, and I promise I’ll catch back up in an hour or two, take him off your hands? I have to find my partner, that is all. Name’s Craggs.” Pointing to the tied-up criminal: “He’s Petjemen Odyang. Wanted for robbing an Incorporation Bank up in Rhinestone Hole. Hell, I’ll even give you some of the reward for helping get him a’ way down the road. They’re paying 170 silver for him alive.”

Pang eyes young Marshall Craggs and the robber Odyang, sussing them out.

(Perception Check 12DR vs. Wits 12, 7. Weak Hit. Pay the Price: A new danger or foe is revealed.)

Pang notices how ill-fitting Craggs’ uniform is, not out of place for a greenhorn, but it doesn’t smell right. He takes a look at the bound and gagged Odyang. That uniform looks like it would fit him like a glove. Craggs is getting more impatient as Pang takes in the situation.

“I reckon I could lead him down the road a’ways for you, Marshall,” Pang finally responds. 

(Deception Check 10DR vs. Wits 9, 3. Failure)

Craggs pulls his revolver and points it at Pang. “You’re a clever fella, huh? I saw you looking me over. Not going to let that happen. You’d just take him down the road and let him loose, probably double back after me. No way. off the nag.”

Pang dismounts and puts his hands up. Stepping next to the bound & gagged marshall on horseback. Craggs mounts his. 

(Oracle question: Does Craggs leave us with the other horse? Less than 10 = No)

Craggs continues,” Help the good marshall off the horse.” Pang does as asked. The real Craggs is dazed, bloodied welts distend his face, and his skin is sun-chapped. The thief grabs the reins of the other healthy horse and spurs his own, and they all begin to shrink against the endless horizon of this stretch of nothing. Pang is left with his old nag Silver Nail. Clearly, the thief wasn’t impressed with her.

Pang unties and ungags the man, who nearly collapses in his arms—probably parched. Pang only has a day’s worth of water in his canteen, not feeling that the marshall is worth risking his survival. There may be water somewhere nearby (not likely, though). Pang is resourceful.

(Foraging for water 12DR [due to foraging skill] vs. Wits 11, 7. Failure)

(Oracle question: What goes badly? Fear – Pang stirs up a rattler)

The familiar shake sends a chill up Pang’s spine, and he stares into the face of a coiled-up rattler. 

(Slick check 12DR vs. 18, 4. Weak Hit. Pay the Price: The current situation worsens.)

In the panic to escape from the rattler, Pang spills the little water he had, watching the ground soak it all up, darkening the cracked earth at his feet. Shit. The marshall fades a little more. A clock is ticking as the sun hits its peak. Heat bares down on them both. Pang feels his throat like cotton, scratching. 

Pang tosses the marshall across the back of Silver Nail’s saddle, ensuring he’s secure. Then he’s on the horse himself, kicking her and taking off, hoping he can get to somewhere established soon or they both are in trouble.

(Slick check 14DR vs. 20, 15. Strong Hit)

The sign reads: Toothpick Range as Pang slows Silver Nail and saunters her into the town. It’s a bustling place, clearly a mining haven based on the men riding on the back of wagons with pickaxes slung over their shoulders. Pang passes by a middle-aged, tall, physically fit woman who appears to be a regular housewife crying near the dead body of her husband, who seems to have died of a sudden heart attack.

Pang notices a crude roughness in the air. Almost everyone is scowling and rude. All men have one hand on their gun belts. Tensions are running high in this town.

From the wooden facades, rough buildings, and tent campgrounds on the main street and beyond, it’s clear that the town has been hastily built.

Pang notices The Dapper Camel saloon, a large wooden sign with a cartoon camel wearing a top hat and monocle on it. He hitches his horse up and fetches water from the nearby pump next to the trough. Pang can fill up with four days’ worth of water. 

(Oracle question: Do any of the surly lookin’ fellas approach Pang? 13 = greater than 10. No)

Despite their suspicious glares and nasty looks, the residents of Toothpick Range seem to keep their distance from Pang. He makes sure to give the marshall some water. Despite looking close to death, the water brings some life to him; he laps at it like a dying dog. Pang reasons if he gets in good with this fella and saves his life & such, he might be able to avoid the ones hunting for the attempted fire.

Pang unties the marshall and helps him stand barefoot, wearing only dust-stained long johns. They do a couple of short laps around the trough. The man is trying to say something but can’t croak it out. Pang gets him some more water. 

(NPC mood – apathetic)

“Shoulda’ left me to die,” the man can say. 

Pang is surprised by that. “What do you reckon that’s a good idea for?” he asks the man.

The marshall blinks and squints as the sun stings at his eyes. “I’m a good for nothin’ piece of shit. Let that bandit get the jump on me. I can’t report back. Might as well die out there.”

Pang sees an opportunity here. “You don’t have to return to being a marshall,” Pang starts. “Plenty of other work to do. Myself, I was making my way to Stubbshead County before I ran into you and the scoundrel. Now that we’re here, maybe we can find some work. Nothing wrong with having more coins to jingle around in the pocket.”

(Wits 14DR vs. 16, 18. Strong Hit)

Pang’s words strike a chord. The marshall is looking better now. He’s paying attention as Pang speaks and seems to be softening his demeanor. 

“We’re going to need to get you some clothes, though,” Pang says, realizing the saloon will not let a man in just his long johns set foot inside.” And I expect our friend back on the road; he took all your money.” The marshall nods. “I’ve only got seven to my name,” Pang continues. 

(Random event roll: A popular young saloon owner was found murdered. Nothing was missing, but an ace of spades was placed on his chest.)

Just as Pang is contemplating walking into The Dapper Camel and betting all 7 of his silver pieces in a game of cards, the doors swing open, and an old fella with a white-blonde push-broom mustache stumbles out and shouts, “They’ve gone and killed Picholas Fenapple!” The people on the street erupt into a riptide ocean of murmurs and chatter, waves pushing Pang and his despondent marshall acquaintance into the saloon and to the crime scene.

A pair of shoes with legs attached stuck out from behind the bar. The masses carried Pang forward, eager to see who was dead. If the body had a face, there was little left now, just meat and viscera deconstructed by a shotgun. Lying on the chest was a blood-splattered Ace of Spades. Pang caught the murmurs of a name: Scotum.

The chairs & tables of The Dapper Camel composed a broken arc, an artifact of the chaos that erupted when the shot had been fired. The patrons would have moved to the far side of the tavern before bolting for the doors. Only one figure remained at a table, a younger woman, her chest weighted with a heave of sobs, consoled by a collection of three older women. Pang figured they’d felt widowhood and were now telling the woman how soon she could breathe, sleep, and live without overthinking about the one she’d lost. 

An eruption burst out of this tiny thing: “No! To anyone who can hear my voice: this was my husband, Picholas Fenapple. You all knew him. We had just been married in Chartreuse two months ago. He was everything I had. I will give 210 silver pieces to the people who bring this murderer’s rotten hide to me.”

More chatter, Pang picking up some of the crowd mulling over whether they wanted to take up the bounty. Pang slipped casually from the tavern, returning to his impromptu partner, the long john-wearing Marshall Scraggs. Pang tossed him five silver pieces: “See what clothing you can get with this. I think we have a fruitful opportunity laid before us.”

(Wits check DR12 vs. 14, 20. Success)

Scraggs frown quickly turns to a sly grin, and he starts making a b-line to a general store with some basic togs hanging up in the window. Meanwhile, Pang makes his way around the back of The Dapper Camel, searching for signs of the murderer’s flight from the scene.

(Wits check DR12 vs. 8, 15. Weak Hit. Pay the Price: A new danger or foe is revealed.)

Pang discovers a set of horse tracks headed from the back of the tavern towards the northern coast, likely trying to catch the ferry out of Kessle Cove. A voice clears to get Pang’s attention, and he turns to find a man with a finely waxed mustache sitting atop a fine-looking mare. The man wore a black open crown hat with a black coat and pants, and an upside silver cross hung on a chain around his neck. A hint of a chrome pistol caught a beam of sunlight. 

“Haven’t seen you around here, suh. Are you visiting our fair town? What brings you to the back of this establishment? Lost your way, suh?” He sucked his teeth.

“I heard the newly christened widow make her declaration,” Pang replied. “Thought I might be able to find a hint of something to help locate the trail.”

The mustache man looked off into the distance, his sly grin forming a knowing smile. “I think you best let the locals handle this one, friend. You just got about going on a drunk or losing your money at the card tables, understand?”

Pang looks the man over, understanding that it is a mismatched fight with his adversary on horseback and carrying a weapon like that. It’s always better to kill someone when they aren’t expecting it. “Sorry for the bother, mister. You’re right. I’m sure you’ll have this all dealt with by sun up.” Pang nods at the fella, backing away and not taking his eyes off him until he’s around the corner and back on the main thoroughfare. He finds Scraggs returned wearing extremely tattered pants and a shirt with a hole around the belly. 

“Store wouldn’t let me in because of the underwear. Found these on a drunk passed out in the street.” Scraggs explained. “I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Pang nodded towards the alley between The Dapper Camel and the telegraph office. “Met a man back there who is dead set on catching the bounty first. He’s a slick one. We’ll need to keep our distance. Swing wide to the east and try to make up time through the mountain passes. I figure this murderer knew what he was doing; the card tells me that. He’s going somewhere to lay low. 

(Luck DR12 vs. 10, 3. Failure. Pay the Price: A surprising development complicates your quest.)

Pang and Scraggs take off to the east, riding for half a day, camping, then making the big turn to head back towards the murderer’s trail. They make their way through the snowy wastes, forced to take a mountain trail to save time. The mountain forest is quiet, and they never hear the ambush coming. Snowbroken savages, once idealistic prospectors, fall from the branches and knock both men out.

Pang wakes up groggy and sore; his head pounds with a dull ache (1HP dmg). The only light is the small crackling fire in the pit. There are figures on the edges of the shadows working at something. His brain is still waking up, and he can’t quite define the details. 

(Is Craggs still alive? Unlikely. Answer: No)

Pang’s stomach turns when he spots Craggs’ lifeless and partially butchered body on an uneven wooden table to the right. One of the figures hacks away with a meat cleaver. The stench of the charred meat catches Pang, and he realizes it’s a roasted marshall being cooked over the fire.

(Is there anything here I can use to aid my escape? Oracle: Bounty.)

Pang notices something else in this dingy cabin, which stinks of death. The chrome-handled revolver of his challenger to the bounty sits on the ground in a pile with those same black clothes. Huh, Pang thinks he must have been working his way through the pass a bit before us. He decides to try and keep himself appearing unconscious while making a go for the revolver.

(Slick check DR14 vs. 21, 6. Weak Hit. Pay the Price: The current situation worsens.)

Pang’s right hand wraps around the handle of the chrome revolver; it’s loaded, though it appears the bounty hunter had fired off three shots before being taken down. His captors must have noticed because a dagger came plunging into Pang’s left leg, pinning him to the dirt and sending pain rippling through his nerves.

(Slick check DR12 vs. 17, 18. Success. 5 dmg)

Pang swings his arm around, aims with the revolver, and fires point-blank into his assailant’s face. There’s not much left as the figure stumbles back, blood flowing like a waterfall from where his bottom jaw used to be, spilling across his matted, nasty furs. 

The one with the butcher knife comes charging, screaming like a devil straight from Hell. Pang adjusts, steadies, and fires at the approaching fiend. 

(Slick check DR12 vs. 5, 16. Weak Hit. 1 dmg. Pay the Price: It causes a delay or puts you at a disadvantage.)

The butchering bastard takes the bullet to his shoulder and stumbles back; Pang realizes he needs to get this knife out of his leg so he can at least scramble out of the cabin. 

(Grit check DR12 vs. 15, 2. Weak Hit. Pay the Price: Something of value is lost or destroyed.)

Pang grits his teeth and pulls the dagger out of his leg in a single jerk; his head briefly tries to blackout, but he pushes through. Click. The gun is out of bullets. He chucks it at the barely wounded cannibal, attempting to strike him in the skull.

(Slick check DR12 vs. 22, 11. Spent Ace. 13. Strong Hit. 4 dmg)

The gun makes contact with a sickening crack, the butcher’s head splits, burbling forth blood spurts, and he stumbles backward to get his bearings. Pang reaches for the pocket pistol he keeps hidden in his boot and aims at the butcher.

(Slick check DR12 vs. 9, 19. Weak Hit. 5 dmg)

The bullet finds that bleeding skull and silences it. The butcher hits the dirt floor with a thud. His jawless companion whimpers in the corner, bleeding out. Pang retrieves the chrome revolver. No bullets. But maybe some down the road. Pang wanders out in the snow, Silver Nail tied to a post, ready to continue his search and make a fortune.

To be continued.