What Finds You — Glitch!

Random Encounters — d20

Roll d20 and find out what the city has planned.

Hit Roll to see a result

d20	What's Here
1	SecCorp patrol (3). Routine. They're bored. Bored cops are dangerous cops. They want a reason. Don't give them one — or do.
2	Pharma-Vatican street distribution. Acolytes handing out Grey from a cart. The queue is long and quiet and nobody makes eye contact.
3	Gang territorial dispute. Two crews, six members each, at the end of a standoff. You have walked into the middle of it. Roll Reaction for each crew separately.
4	Android runaway. Moving fast, no papers, panic obvious. Luddites two blocks behind. Your call in the next 6 seconds.
5	CogniData extraction van. Parked. Running. Someone inside is awake who shouldn't be. You heard something through the panel wall.
6	Overdose. Someone on the pavement. Grey or worse. Still breathing. The product that did it is still in their hand. It's labeled.
7	Luddite Enclave Wreckers (3). Off-duty but they recognize an android or cybermod when they see one. Off-duty doesn't mean unarmed.
8	Zerocalcare street medic. Running a free clinic from the back of a cart in an alley. Dispositions: friendly. Resources: limited. Information: extensive.
9	ARM compliance team. Looking for a specific android. They have a photo. The photo is not of anyone in your party. The description could be.
10	Chemical rain starts. d2 damage per hour outside. Everyone is running for cover. In the scramble, something falls. Someone drops something. Someone loses someone.
11	Gang ambush. d4+2 members. Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong look. All of the above.
12	Malfunctioning work-android. Industrial unit, no supervision protocol. Not malicious. Not rational. You are between it and whatever it's doing.
13	Electrostatic Redemption missionaries (2). Very sincere. Very persistent. The contract they're offering has very small print and a surprisingly good deal on the first page.
14	SecCorp elite unit. Not routine. They are looking for something specific and they have stopped looking elsewhere. PRE DR 14 to not be detained for questioning.
15	Power grid failure. Immediate, citywide. One hour minimum. In the dark, something that was waiting stops waiting.
16	Kardinal-Enforcer. Alone. Which means either very confident or luring something. Heading in your direction with the specific purposefulness of someone who knows where they're going and why.
17	Black market pop-up. Alley, twenty minutes, everything available. One seller has something that should not be available at any price. It is priced accordingly.
18	Android Liberation Front cell (4). Cautious. Armed. On an operation they won't describe. Roll Reaction. On a 4+: they need help with the operation.
19	Zanardi's messenger. Finds you. Has a message. The message is: someone is looking for you. The someone is not named. The messenger does not know more. Zanardi does.
20	Mort. Nearby. Not looking for you — for something else. He passes within 10 meters. He does not acknowledge you. This is either because he hasn't noticed you or because you are not relevant to his current concern. Both are unsettling.

Quick Job Generator — d66

Client — d20

Hit Roll to see a result

d66	Result
11	A Vatican acolyte acting without authorization from the Church
12	A CogniData mid-level executive with a personal problem
13	The Zerocalcare Collective, via a journalist who won't give their name
14	Zanardi. No further explanation provided.
15	An ARM administrator who needs something done off the books
16	A SecCorp officer using a burner phone
21	An android speaking for a cell of three others who will not meet you in person
22	A Luddite who has realized they need help from exactly the kind of person they hate
23	A Pharma-Vatican distributor who has been skimming and needs a problem solved before the audit
24	A black market fixer representing a client they will not name at any price
25	Someone from your Background who you haven't heard from in years
26	A scavenging academic who found something they can't handle alone
31	A gang leader who has run out of gang
32	A surgeon who treated you once and is now calling in the debt
33	An elderly Roman who has been here longer than any faction and has specific resources none of them know about
34	A journalist who has the story and needs the proof
35	A child delivering a message from someone who cannot deliver it themselves
36	A previous client with a follow-up problem caused by the last job
41	An android who was on the ARM termination list and somehow isn't anymore and wants to know why
42	Someone who is clearly lying about who they represent but whose money is real
43	A Vatican Cardinal-Enforcer who has decided they're on the wrong side and needs help getting to the right one
44	A corporate deserter with proprietary knowledge and diminishing time
45	The person you owe money to, offering to clear the debt for a service
46	A refugee from the Periphery who brought something with them
51	A Machine Priest who has found something in a decommissioned android that shouldn't be there
52	An unlicensed surgeon whose clinic has a problem the police cannot know about
53	A fixer from another city who doesn't know the terrain and needs a local
54	Mort. He wants something done without him doing it. He will not explain why.
55	Marla-J, directly. She is not supposed to be making contact. She is anyway.
56	Someone who is already dead, via a recorded message they left before they died
61	A SecCorp compliance officer who has discovered their unit is corrupt and needs evidence
62	A Parioli corporate family with a missing member and a strong preference that the search remain unofficial
63	Three people who all want the same thing and don't know the others are also hiring for it
64	An android collective that communicates through a proxy who doesn't know they're a proxy
65	Someone from Zanardi's network acting on his behalf without his knowledge
66	Nobody. The job presents itself. The money was left somewhere you'd find it.

Target — d66

Hit Roll to see a result

d66	Result
11	A physical object — small, unremarkable-looking, specifically dangerous
12	A person who needs to be found and does not want to be found
13	A person who needs to be protected and doesn't know they're in danger
14	A data package currently held by someone who doesn't know its value
15	A memory extraction — from a willing subject who can't do it themselves
16	A memory extraction — from an unwilling subject
21	A building that needs to be entered without triggering what will happen if it's entered wrong
22	A person who needs to be delivered somewhere — conscious and cooperative
23	A person who needs to be delivered somewhere — neither of the above required
24	A piece of information that three factions are currently trying to suppress
25	An android who needs to be decommissioned but keeps not being decommissioned
26	An android who needs to be extracted before decommissioning
31	A chemical formula currently memorized by one person who is about to die of unrelated causes
32	A record that needs to be destroyed before it's found
33	A record that needs to be found before it's destroyed
34	A meeting between two parties that needs to happen without either knowing the other was willing
35	A meeting between two parties that needs to not happen
36	A SecCorp patrol route that needs to have a gap in it at a specific time
41	A Vatican sacrament shipment — intact delivery, no questions
42	A Vatican sacrament shipment — intercept, no deliveries
43	A person who needs to publicly change their mind about something
44	Evidence of something that needs to be made public
45	Evidence of something that needs to never be made public
46	A body that needs to be somewhere it isn't
51	A body that needs to not be where it is
52	Access to a system that is not supposed to be accessible
53	A message delivered in person to someone who cannot be approached directly
54	A weapon of unusual provenance that several parties want and one of them should not have
55	An android component that is apparently ordinary and is not
56	A building that needs to not be demolished on the scheduled date
61	A building that needs to be demolished before the scheduled date
62	A person who needs to know something without knowing how they came to know it
63	A debt — collected, or transferred, or permanently voided, depending on interpretation
64	A faction leader's schedule for the next 72 hours
65	Something that cannot be specified until you've agreed to find it
66	Whatever is on floor 41 of the Ministry building in EUR Fantasma

Complication — d66

Hit Roll to see a result

d66	Result
11	The client lied about what the target is
12	The client lied about who the target is
13	A second party is running the same job for the opposing faction
14	The target knows the job is coming
15	The job was already done by someone else — badly
16	What looked like the job is actually the setup for a different job
21	The client is being watched and the meeting was observed
22	A faction uninvolved in the original job has decided to become involved
23	The payment doesn't exist in the form promised
24	The target is someone you know
25	The target is someone in the group
26	Completing the job creates an immediate and serious problem for someone not in the original briefing
31	The job is legal. Completing it is not.
32	The job is illegal. Completing it would be the right thing to do.
33	A time limit that wasn't mentioned has expired or is about to expire
34	The location has changed
35	A third party is using the job as cover for something else and you're the cover
36	The client dies mid-job
41	The target turns out to be the actual client and vice versa
42	Something you did on a previous job is directly relevant to this one in a way that complicates it
43	The job requires a skill none of the group has in the form the job requires it
44	ARM has jurisdiction over a key element of the job and will not be moved
45	The Vatican has already blessed the outcome the client doesn't want
46	SecCorp has a checkpoint exactly where the job needs to happen, arrival time unknown
51	The job is straightforward. The straightforwardness is the complication — something this clean is not clean.
52	A natural disaster (Decay event, chemical spill, structural failure) affects the job location
53	Two members of the group have conflicting prior obligations to parties on opposite sides of the job
54	The money is real, the job is real, and none of it makes sense in a way that becomes clear mid-job
55	The job succeeds perfectly. The client's response to success is the complication.
56	Something from the Strange Things table is involved in the job and can't be explained
61	Mort has an opinion about the outcome
62	Marla-J needs the opposite outcome to what the client needs, and she needs it for reasons that are hard to argue with
63	The Zerocalcare Collective is going to broadcast what happens regardless of outcome
64	A time-sensitive secondary job presents itself mid-primary-job and the two are mutually exclusive
65	The complication is you. Something about this job and something about your character intersect in a way that makes straightforward completion impossible.
66	No complication. The job runs clean. Roll d6 — on a 1, this is wrong and one of the above applies but you won't know which one until next session.

Strange Things Found in the Street — d66

Roll d66 for the base find (first die tens, second units). For extra detail, also roll a separate d6 and interpret freely.

Hit Roll to see a result

d66	Result
11	An android hand, still warm. Fingers occasionally flex on a schedule.
12	A working phone. One saved contact labeled ZANARDI. Seventeen missed calls, unnamed.
13	A SecCorp helmet with a hole in it. The hole is from the inside.
14	A love letter addressed to a serial number. The reply is tucked inside, also addressed to a serial number.
15	Sacrament Seven, unlabeled. Three doses. The Vatican stamp is inside the cap.
16	A child's drawing of Mort. Anatomically specific. An address is written on the back.
21	A tactical map annotated in two handwritings that are arguing with each other. Your current location is circled.
22	Graffiti: MORT WAS HERE. Second line: AND WHAT ABOUT MARLA-J. Third line, different hand: SHE SAID NO. Fourth line: SHE DIDN'T.
23	An android memory chip, still warm. Final memory is of this street.
24	A dead Luddite, recent. Sledgehammer still here. Not a Luddite — wearing the jacket, carrying Vatican paperwork.
25	A corporate ID. Your face. Not your name. Full SecCorp clearance.
26	A cat. One optical upgrade. One subdermal plate. Following you specifically since two blocks ago.
31	Money. 400 lire in small bills. Note: FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY. Second note underneath: DON'T SPEND IT ON THAT.
32	A chemical container. Hazmat labeling removed. Smells sweet. Vatican manufacturing stamp under the removed label.
33	Someone sleeping. Too still. Not sleeping — PRE DR 10 to tell. Sleeping with something in their hand you need.
34	A list of twelve names. Seven crossed out. Your name is on it, uncrossed.
35	A scooter, running, unlocked. Helmet has blood inside. There is someone in the back seat you didn't notice.
36	A photograph. Three people, apparently happy. One face carefully removed. On the back: a date three days from now and a location.
41	A used Sacrament Seven vial. The residue smells like what love would smell like if it were a compound. The batch number connects to something you already know.
42	Nothing. The street is completely empty. Something cleared it — roll Faction Presence for what.
43	A notebook filled with surveillance notes on a person whose description matches someone in the group. The notes go back six weeks.
44	A locked case the size of a briefcase. Heavy. Warm. Makes no sound. Has a Pharma-Vatican seal and a CogniData tag simultaneously.
45	A handwritten receipt for a service you cannot identify, from a provider you cannot identify, charging an amount that suggests it was very specific and very necessary.
46	A child, alone, with the calm of a child who has been here before and is waiting for something. They know your name.
51	A dead SecCorp officer with no visible cause of death and a look of complete surprise. Their equipment is intact. Their body is unharmed. Their expression is not.
52	A door in a wall that wasn't there yesterday. It's on a building you've passed a hundred times. The door is new and old simultaneously.
53	A message written in the condensation on a window, from inside, in a building that appears empty. The message: it's still here.
54	An ARM compliance form, completed and signed, deregistering an android. The android: someone in the group, by serial number.
55	A map of tunnels beneath the current district. Hand-drawn. Recent. The tunnels aren't on any official map. One of them leads to somewhere you need to go.
56	A package addressed to you. Your current address. Your real name, or the name you use, or the name only certain people know. Left here, as if you were expected.
61	A copy of a Zerocalcare broadcast transcript, printed on Vatican letterhead, with specific passages underlined in red.
62	A working terminal — unlocked, active, logged into a CogniData account. The account belongs to someone powerful. The session expires in ten minutes.
63	Three separate sets of footprints in something wet, all arriving at this point, none leaving.
64	A Pharma-Vatican sacrament still in the sealed delivery container, addressed to an android. Androids don't use Sacraments. The shipping manifest lists the android's name, full address, and the notation: as discussed.
65	Something alive that isn't an animal and isn't a person and isn't an android but is present and aware and has been waiting here for something. It looks at you. It keeps looking.
66	Everything above simultaneously. The GM rolls secretly which three apply. Two of them are connected. The third one is worse.

What the City Smells Like — d20

Roll for atmosphere. One result per scene if you want it. Two results if you want it to be Rome.

Hit Roll to see a result

1	Burning plastic — acrid, specific, somewhere between electrical fire and something organic that shouldn't be burning. The smell that means something is wrong before you can see what.
2	Pine disinfectant over something the disinfectant didn't fully address. Whatever was here recently, someone tried. The trying is its own kind of information.
3	Street food — garlic, hot oil, something with too much chili — from a cart you can't locate. The smell keeps appearing and disappearing. You haven't eaten since yesterday.
4	Ozone. Sharp and metallic. An android has been here recently, running hard or running hot. The smell lingers for twenty minutes after they leave.
5	Rain on concrete — not the rain itself, the aftermath. The specific smell of water on surfaces that haven't been clean in years, releasing everything they've been holding.
6	Pharmaceuticals — sweet and slightly wrong, the chemical sweetness that Sacrament Seven wears like a perfume. Someone is using nearby or recently used. The air is still warm with it.
7	Cigarette smoke from a brand that stopped being manufactured eight years ago. Someone is smoking contraband with the specific comfort of someone who has stopped rationing.
8	Blood. Not a lot — a small amount, recent. The kind of smell that makes you look at the floor before you decide whether to look at anything else.
9	Old paper and dust — library smell, archive smell, the smell of things that have been sitting somewhere undisturbed long enough to develop their own atmosphere.
10	Chemical sweetness from the Ostiense fires — carried on the wind from the south, arriving in neighborhoods it has no business being in. Some days the whole city smells like this. Most days.
11	Sewage, honest and direct. Rome's infrastructure making no apologies. You've lived here long enough that you only notice it when it stops.
12	Motor oil and hot metal — a vehicle nearby, recently running, recently stopped. Someone arrived. Someone is still here.
13	Incense from a Vatican distribution point three streets over. Heavy, specific, the Vatican's signature blend — floral and something underneath the floral that isn't floral at all.
14	Sweat and adrenaline — the smell of a crowd that has been afraid recently. People have been here, moving fast, not long ago.
15	Fresh paint over old graffiti. The smell of someone's claim being erased. The new paint doesn't quite match.
16	Cooking — something real, something that takes time, coming from a window above. Someone in this city is making something from scratch. The smell is so normal it's disorienting.
17	Alcohol — spilled, not consumed. A bar fight's aftermath, or something broken, or someone pouring something out deliberately. The floor is sticky in a radius you can smell before you can see.
18	Nothing. Clean air — wind off the hills carrying actual oxygen for a moment, the city's smell momentarily replaced by something that isn't the city. It passes in seconds. You remember it for hours.
19	Android lubricant — synthetic, specific, the smell of maintained machinery. Either an android is nearby and well-maintained (unusual) or someone is working on one (routine) or something is leaking (concerning).
20	Something sweet you can't identify — not food, not pharmaceutical, not chemical. Just sweet. It shouldn't be here. It's coming from somewhere specific. You're going to look, even though you know you shouldn't look.

What the City Sounds Like — d20

Roll for atmosphere. The city is never quiet. On a 20 it is quiet. That's the worst result.

Hit Roll to see a result

1	A single gunshot, distant, not followed by anything else. The city processes this and moves on. So do you. You don't know why yet.
2	Music from an unidentifiable source — bass frequencies through a wall, the melody present but wrong, like hearing something through water. It has been playing since you arrived. You don't know if it ever stops.
3	An argument in Italian, one floor up, escalating in a pattern that suggests this has been happening for years and will continue for years. Neither voice sounds like they believe the other is listening. Neither of them is.
4	SecCorp siren — not close, not far, the pitch consistent with a patrol moving at speed toward something. The sound has a direction. You note the direction.
5	An android speaking — not to you, not to anyone visible. Repeating something in a loop, the cadence of a task protocol, the content personal and heartbreaking and none of your business.
6	Children somewhere. Playing, shouting, the specific chaos of children who haven't learned yet to be quiet in this city. A reminder that the city contains things that aren't trying to kill anyone. Currently.
7	The Zerocalcare broadcast — faint, from a receiver in someone's window, playing something that would get the station shut down if anyone in authority could triangulate the signal. They keep trying.
8	Rain starting. The specific sound of rain on Roman stone — different from rain on anything else, harder, more permanent-sounding, like the stone is being reminded of something it knew before.
9	A crowd responding to something you can't see — a collective intake of breath, a murmur becoming something with direction. Something happened thirty meters away and the crowd just processed it.
10	Footsteps behind you. Matching your pace. You stop — they stop. You walk — they walk. They've been there since the last corner. Maybe longer.
11	Construction — drilling, hammering, the machinery of something being built. Parioli Superiore expanding south again. The sound of the city remaking itself in one faction's image.
12	A cat, extremely opinionated, somewhere in the walls. The sound of an animal that has decided the space between floors belongs to it and is correctly stating this position to no one in particular.
13	Something mechanical failing — a repetitive stutter, a grinding, a rhythm with a fault in it that keeps returning at the same interval. Infrastructure. It will fail completely at a time that is inconvenient for someone.
14	Broken glass — a single impact, then silence, then the sound of someone moving fast in the direction away from where the glass was. Someone made a mistake. They know it.
15	Chanting — Vatican processional, the specific rhythm of group prayer or group recitation, the words inaudible but the intent clear. They're moving through the district. They'll be here in minutes.
16	Absolute normal city noise — traffic, voices, the ambient roar of Rome doing what Rome does. Nothing unusual. Nothing to note. The absence of anything worth noting is itself worth noting.
17	A tram passing — the specific sound of the city's transit system, the wheels on track, the overhead lines, the bell at the intersection. Mundane and enormous, fifteen tons of continuity rolling through a city that's falling apart.
18	Someone crying. Not theatrically — quietly, with the controlled desperation of someone who knows this is not a safe place to cry and is crying anyway because they have run out of the capacity to not cry. You can't see who. The sound is close.
19	An explosion, distant, followed by a secondary sound that might be structural — a building settling, something collapsing, a load-bearing assumption proving incorrect. A column of smoke is probably visible from somewhere elevated. Nobody on the street looks up.
20	Nothing. Complete silence — no traffic, no voices, no city noise. The kind of silence that means the city has held its breath. Something is about to happen. Something already happened. Either way, the silence will not last and when it ends you will know which one it was.