FICTION Cyberpunk RED: Digital Edition (v1.24)

459 Pages·2020·145.03 MB·english

by  Mike Pondsmith

the roleplaying game of the dark future

CAST AND CREW
Writing and Design by Mike Pondsmith, James Hutt, Cody Pondsmith, Jay Parker, J Gray, David
Ackerman, and Jaye Kovach
Based on Material Originally Created by David Ackerman, Matt Anacleto, Mike Blum, Edward
Bolme, Colin Fisk, Dave Friedland, Bruce Harlick, Scott Hedrick, Michael LaBossiere, Mike MacDonald,
Will Moss, Lisa Pondsmith, Mike Pondsmith, Derek Quintanar, Mike Roter, Scott Ruggels, Craig Sheeley,
Mark Schumann, Ross Winn, Benjamin Wright, and the many writers who worked on the Cyberpunk
line in the past.
Beat Chart Concepts Contributed by Flint Dille
Lyrics for Black Dog and Never Fade Away by David Sandström and Dennis Lyxzén
Business Management by Lisa Pondsmith
Project Management by Cody Pondsmith and Mike Pondsmith
Art Direction by Jaye Kovach
Cover Illustration by Anselm Zielonka
Interior Illustration and Graphics by Doug Anderson, Bad Moon Art Studio, Richard Bagnall,
Santiago Betancur, Neil Branquinho, Alexander Dudar, Colin Fisk, Matthew S. Francella, Hélio Frazão,
Huntang, J Gray, Maksym Harahulin, DariusK, Jaye Kovach, Bernard Kowalczuk, Adrian Marc, Jan
Marek, Eddie Mendoza, Pedram Mohammadi, Alan Okamoto, Anna Podedworna, Sebastian Szmyd,
Eve Ventrue, 望瑾 Jin Wang, Wavefront, and Anselm Zielonka
Editing by Carol Darnell, Michael Matheson, Josh Vogt, and Dixie Cochran
Layout and Page Design by J Gray, Irrgardless, and Adam Jury
Product Consultation by Aron Tarbuck
Playtesting and Beta Reading by James "ELH" Adams, Azalah, Jared Doyle Barnes, Ben, Gabriel
Boleau, Naomi Calhoun, Matt "Sir Fluffles" Carroll, Kevin Diehl, Linda "Druttercup" Evans, James
Fullerton, Allen Hawkins, Matthew House, Jay Jasti, Paul Khalifé, The MadQueen, Ashley Mayo, Leon
"Leothedino" Mendez, Dan "F00d4Th0ught" Richardson, Ryan "Boss_Angler" St. John, Gavin "Fishy"
Steele, Joseph Torres, Jason Rand, Jillian Wagner, Eddy Webb, and Worthington
Special Thanks to Radek Adam Grabowski, Marcin Iwiński, Amelia Kołat, Hollie Bennett, Sam Liu, Patrick
Mills, Michał Platkow-Gilewski, Walter Jon Williams, and the entire crew at CD Projekt Red.
CR3001•ISBN 978-1-950911-06-6• Second Printing • Printed in Canada
Copyright © 2020 by R. Talsorian Games, Inc., Cyberpunk is a registered trademark of
CD Projekt Red S.A. All rights reserved under the Universal Copyrights Convention. All
situations, governments, and people herein are fictional. Any similarities portrayed herein
without satiric intent are strictly coincidental.
Lyrics for Black Dog and Never Fade Away © 2020 by CD Prokekt S.A.
Images on pages 26 and 284 © 2020 by CD Prokekt S.A.
contents
Never Fade Away .................................5 Trauma Team ...................................................................223
Street Drugs .....................................................................227
View from the Edge ............................17
Therapy and You ............................................................229
A Tabletop RPG Primer ....................................................22 Cyberpsychosis ...............................................................230
Streetslang .........................................................................24
Welcome to the Dark Future .............233
Soul and the New Machine .................27
The Fall of America.........................................................234
Roles....................................................................................29 Dark Future Countdown ................................................236
The Three Methods of Making a Character ................40 Before the Red .................................................................242
The 4th Corp War ..........................................................251
Tales from The Street ...........................43
The Time of the Red ...........................257
Fitted for the Future ............................71
The Aftermath ..................................................................258
What are Statistics? ..........................................................72
The U.S. in the Time of the Red .....................................258
Skills .....................................................................................81
The World Beyond .........................................................260
Weapons and Armor ........................................................91
The Neocorps .................................................................264
Your Outfit ..........................................................................99
Corporate Profiles ..........................................................267
Putting the Cyber into the Punk ........107
Welcome to Night City ......................283
Cyberpsychosis ...............................................................108
A Bit of Night City History .............................................284
Cyberware.......................................................................110
Night City in 2020 .........................................................288
The Fall of the Towers .........................121 Night City, Happy at Last? ............................................291
Night City in the Time of the Red ..................................295
Getting it Done ..................................125
Particulars ........................................................................300
Getting the Scene Down ...............................................126 People of Night City .......................................................304
Resolving Actions with Skills .........................................128 Gangs of Night City .......................................................308
Skill List ..............................................................................130 Key Places in and Around Night City .........................310
Role Abilities ....................................................................142
Multiclassing Roles .........................................................143 Everyday Life .....................................315
Staying out of Trouble ....................................................316
Friday Night Firefight ........................167
How You Stay in Touch ..................................................319
In Combat Time ...............................................................168 What You're Packing ......................................................321
Actions ..............................................................................168 How You Get Around ....................................................322
Ranged Combat .............................................................170 How You Get the Word .................................................326
Melee Combat ................................................................175 What You Wear ..............................................................327
Other Ways to Get Hurt ................................................180 What You Eat ..................................................................328
Before You Take Damage .............................................182 How You Have Fun ........................................................329
When Armor Doesn't Cut It ...........................................186 Where You Get Stuff ......................................................331
Vehicle Combat ..............................................................189
Reputation ........................................................................193 The New Street Economy ..................333
Night Markets .................................................................337
Netrunning .......................................195
Night Market Appendix ................................................340
Doing Things in the NET ................................................197 Making a Living in a Cyberpunk World .....................381
Net Combat .....................................................................201
Programs ..........................................................................201 Running Cyberpunk ..........................387
Miscellaneous Upgrades ..............................................208 Beat Charts ......................................................................395
Cyberdeck Hardware ....................................................208 Getting Better ..................................................................408
Doing a Netrun ...............................................................209 Mooks and Grunts .........................................................412
Building a NET Architecture..........................................209 Encounters in the Red .....................................................417
Trauma Team ....................................219 Screamsheets ....................................425
Wound States and Critical Injuries ..............................220
Black Dog ..........................................435
Stabilization and Healing .............................................222
3
AND NOW, A Word From The Management
S , ' 2013, i …
o it S and have a problem
See, we've all been cruising the mean streets of Night City since 1984. We've fought the Megacorps to a standstill, cybered
ourselves to the very limit of psychosis, and have even climbed to the heights of the Arasaka Towers to pimp smack old
Saburo upside his bald head.
This is one of the problems all designers who work within a self-created world face: terminal stagnation. Your players
have done everything, fought everything, and seen everything you can offer in the original iteration of your world, and
there's not much left to do.
In Cyberpunk, my solution has always been to treat the entire world like a giant comic book, divided up into roughly
ten-year story arcs. The Cyberpunk world goes to hell beginning in 1993, starting with the invention of modern cyber-
ware and the attack on the World Trade Center in New York by Colombian narco-terrorists. We start the main Cyberpunk
story (what I call the Never Fade Away Arc) ten years later in 2013 with the culmination being Johnny Silverhand's invasion
of the Arasaka Tower in an attempt to rescue his girlfriend, Alt Cunningham. Ten more years pass and then begins the
Cyberpunk 2020 Arc (which I call the Fall of the Towers Arc… starting to see a pattern here, what with me destroying
big buildings all the time?) by the end of which the Cyberpunk world is totally disrupted in 2023.
Working in story arcs is useful. It allows you to keep the main world operational while creating new storylines and
introducing new characters. You get to build on what is already there and familiar. But by the end of the 2020 Arc, I had
two big problems. First, it wasn't going to be enough simply to start a new storyline. I had to deal with the fact that much
of the existing world had been mined out and needed a reset.
And second, I'd acquired some partners. See, about the same time I started writing what would one day become this
book, a bunch of guys in Poland—you probably know them as CD Projekt Red, creators of the wildly popular Witcher
video games—showed up on my metaphorical doorstep and said, "Hey, wanna make a Cyberpunk videogame?" I
looked them over and, assured that they were more than three guys in a basement with some old Apple 2's and a goat,
agreed that this would be a cool idea.
But that also meant that, besides doing a bit of a reset, I had to preserve what made Cyberpunk Cyberpunk, while at
the same time moving the timeline forward and clearing out the deadwood. I also had to make the new version fit not just
a tabletop roleplaying game but a AAA videogame title too.
The result is the game you're holding in your hands.
Cyberpunk RED doesn't wreck the world. But it resets many of the elements of that world without having to make it
unrecognizable. The product of literally hundreds of hours of real-world research and planning, RED gives us a new arc
where almost all the elements of the Cyberpunk we all love are still present, but in new forms and with some fun new
twists. The mean streets of Night City are still there, but there are lots of new Players and new challenges walking the
shadows. In addition, RED allows us to create something unparalleled in gaming history—a tabletop RPG that serves as
the perfect onramp for the expanded and far future of the Cyberpunk 2077 arc. With threads looping forwards and
back through the timeline, my partners at CDPR (Patrick, Adam, Marcin, Amelia—let's face it, the whole damned 600+
crew at the CD studio) and our crew at R. Talsorian Games have given you a deep, complex gaming experience you
can explore on both the tabletop and the video screen.
I didn't do this by myself either. I have to give all credit to the amazing crew here at R. Talsorian Games, James,
Cody, J, Jaye, Jay, Lisa, David, and a host of other contributors who have made this thing work. We all think the result of
all our hard work is a thing of beauty, and we hope you will too.
Because we want you to join us in the Time of the Red and make it your time too.
— — MMiikkee PPoonnddssmmiitthh
the guy who killed your cyberpunk character
4
BY HUNTANG
NNeevveerr FFaaddee AAwwaayy
22001133 ((3322 YYeeaarrss AAggoo))
He's coming out of the Hammer, about midnight, and he sees them. Three punks,
mohawks bright and bristly with reflected neon, wearing high-collared jackets;
gang colors.
5
NEVER FADE AWAY
"Yo! Rockerboy!" one of them yells, "Good show! He stares blankly up at the flat black ceiling of the
Good noise!" Johnny Silverhand waves absently. city. Overhead, there's the shimmer of distant heat
Fans. They're right; the gig was good. He'd rarely lightning interacting with the pink actinic glow of the
been better. But the show's over. City lights. The stars look painted in. A VTOL passes
overhead, giant propblades thrashing the night.
They start walking towards him. One waves a
Johnny tries reaching up to it. He can see the Hand
bottle; the light strikes oily yellow tequila sloshing to
etched against the sky; slick, superchrome winking
and fro. "Yo, Silver-rocker!" he says. The smaller one,
back at him. He balls the Hand that is his trademark
with the face scarred in African tribal tattoos. "Join
into a chromed fist, servos clicking in one by one.
us! Share some! Fair price for a good gig, eh?" The
He thrusts it into the gaping belly wound, gasping
distance is closing, Johnny steers Alt, his girlfriend,
at the shocking pain. Somehow, he gets to his feet;
to his bad side. The one without the Hand. "Hey,
staggers to the alleyway. He leans his feverish face
Icebrothers," he says, noting the gang's colors and
against the cool, wet bricks. He makes a decision.
speaking in a temporizing tone. "Your offer's solid,
He's not going to die. They're going to die. Closing
but it's been a long gig. I'm nearly flatlined as it is.
his eyes, he pitches forward into the streak of passing
How 'bout a replay, next night?" By that time, they're
traffic blur.
almost on him. He lets the 9mm Federated Arms X-9
drop from the spring holster, settling into the Hand. Something stops him. Hands firmly grapple him,
Probably nothing, he thinks. holding him up. Silverhand has just enough strength
to open his eyes. There's a face looking intently at him,
''Yeah. Replay next night," the big one says enthu-
thin, bearded. "Lord Almighty," the face says. "They
siastically, and that's when they hit him. This fast,
really did you, didn't they?"
they're a blur. The X-9 booms in the close confines
of the alley; whines as spent rounds ricochet off into Fade to black.
nowhere. There is a metallic "snick" as the smaller
punk brings up his arm—light reflects off the fistful of Trauma Ward
razors that pretends to be a hand; then an excruciating
impact lifts Johnny off the ground. Blood sprays over
Something is screaming when Johnny wakes up. Fine.
wet concrete. Silverhand hits with a bone wrenching
Just as long as it isn't him. He must have missed the
impact. His pale eyes stare blankly at the sky. Alt's
ambulance ride to the hospital, but here in the trauma
terrified screams recede swiftly into the dark. Sixty to
ward he can hear the sound of jet engines. That's the
zero in eight seconds flat.
screaming. It mounts higher and higher, while the ward
• • • fills with warm air and the smell of ozone. From his
stretcher, he can see the bulky AV-4 vehicle spin on
Johnny comes to. There's something like broken glass
its fans and hurtle upwards. The din dies down and he
in his guts. Red fire blots out the cool blue neon. He rolls
can hear screaming for real all around him; casualties
over in a pool of something greasy. Blood.
of the regular firefights around the City.
His.
The doctor puts him back together. The same doctor
A cat topples off the dumpster, picking a cautious who did his transparent Kiroshi eyes; his trademark
pattern around his body. No fool, this cat. A survivor. silver hand. The same doctor who "plugged" him for
Not going to get involved. Its eyes are tiny red LEDs interface and installed the software chips in the back
moving upalley; Johnny watches it. Smug bastard, he of his skull. Johnny considers taking out a service
thinks. And closes his eyes. contract.
Behind his eyelids, red digitals feebly clock out his Microsurgical waldos cut through the perforated
remaining moments. Bio-clock running down. Cars guts, swabbing, tying off, prepping. The doctor
whispering past on the filthy, rain-wet street beyond. stitches in three feet of glistening wet, tank-grown
A Trauma Team ambulance in the distance, siren intestine; plugs the punch holes with synthetic
screaming. But not for him. He's checking out. skin and muscle. Airhypos inject the area with
6
NEVER FADE AWAY
speeddrugs, fasthealers, endorphins and antibacte- headphone; a mike loops in front of his mouth, the
rials. Microscopic stitches hum off the serrated teeth camera itself coming around the right side of his skull
of a mini-closer, bonding flesh together almost as and hardwiring into a startlingly bright-green cyber-
well as the original. In a month or two, there won't optic. He's a Media; a one-man team of cameraman
even be a scar. Let's hear it for newtech. and reporter, direct feeding to some Mediacorp down-
line. "Hey, Rocker," he says, leaning over the table as
The doctor's hands are quick and sure. He has
Silverhand recovers under the sterilizer beams.
done this a thousand times. He has a German accent.
"Ach... Johnny… Johnny," he says, over and over as he "Ready for a little vengeance?"
works. Over his head, the sterilizer lamps glitter like
an insect's multifaceted eyes. "Johnny... When are you The Naming of Names
going to give this up?" says the doctor.
When it ends, thinks Silverhand, from the fog of Johnny pulls on a red T-shirt. The shirt has the logo
the dorphs and general anesthetics. "Johnny," says of his last band, Samurai. The shirt drags over the
the doctor sadly. Silverhand is a second son to him. freshly stapled wound; hangs up on the bandages.
His first son was Johnny's best friend. His first son was He curses in Japanese. He pulls an armor jacket over
killed in an inter-Corporate war eight years ago. No his shoulders. He pulls the autoshotgun out of his bat-
man should lose more than one son in a lifetime. tered bedroom dresser, checking the load and weight.
He slips it carefully into the worn under-arm holster,
Thanks, thinks Johnny. I owe you one, again.
under the jacket. He stuffs shuriken into pockets on
His alleyway benefactor is named Thompson; a thin, the outside of the jacket. He picks up the heavy S&W
reedy type, wearing an armorjack trenchcoat three Handcannon and slides it into his back holster. There
sizes too large. He packs no visible hardware. But a is a fury behind glittering pale eyes. "So," he says.
minicam mount straddles his head like an over-sized "Tell me."
C
R
A
M
N
A
RI
D
A
Y
B
7
NEVER FADE AWAY
Thompson leans back into the wall, body bracing "Good news/bad news," says Thompson. He's unlim-
against Johnny's intensity. He grins; takes a slug of bered the cybercam unit from around his head and set it
Silverhand's tequila. "They didn't want you. They down on the table between them—the only indication of
wanted her. She's an extraction. Business as usual." hardware is the silvermounted skull plug drilled through
his right temple. The cam's cellular link through the NET
Johnny's eyes are blank. "No surprise", he comments
is off. Thompson says, "Good news is, it isn't one of the
shortly. He gathers up a ragged handful of shells and
really big guys, like Eurobusiness Machines."
begins to stuff-load the S&W's spare clip. Only the
trembling of his hand—the meat hand–betrays any "Fair enough," says Silverhand, taking another swig
emotion. "So, why'd they do me?" he asks. from the bottle.
"You was home," grins Thompson. It's an old line. "Bad news is, it's Arasaka."
They both smile like friendly sharks. Thompson stops
"Jesus H. Christ!" explodes Johnny. The Hand,
smiling. "They wanted you flatlined, so it'd look like
resting on the edge of the table, convulses. There's a
a gang job. Boostergang sees the high and mighty
rending noise and splinters fly in all directions.
Mister John Silverhand out strolling with his input;
decides to slash him a bit. You go down, they grab "Your input was playing with hotdeck materials,
her; they're gone like vapor. Real convenient when Rocker. You know she ran for ITS, right?"
the cops find her body in an alley 'bout a week later.
"Yeah. So, you gotta work somewhere. Alt didn't
They'll have motives—lots of ugly motives, but they'll
talk much about her work."
be those of high-powered boosters, not pros."
"True. But your Alt was ITS's pet Netrunner. She
"Pros." Silverhand finishes loading the second
moved info up and down the NET and handled their
clip. He stuffs the remaining shells in the armorjack's
security as well. She made a lot of classy software
pockets. You can never have enough ammo.
just for them." Long pause. "She built Soulkiller, you
"Yeah, pros," repeats Thompson. "You got shredded know. Or maybe you didn't. Like you said, she didn't
for fine, bro. At least a clean ten thousand Eurobucks talk much about her work."
of hardware on those boys. The speed they hit you
Johnny sits back on the couch, the bottle halfway to
with took maybe a seventy percent reflex boost, and
his lips. Even the normally disconnected Silverhand
those were custom rippers. The type that fold out
has heard of Soulkiller, the legendary black program
along the fists. That sort of hardware isn't something
that sucks the very soul from its Netrunner victims.
you pick up on The Street."
Soulkiller. What a joke. Soulkiller is a memory
"You saw them on me?" intensive AI superroutine that can track an intruding
Netrunner's cyberlink faster than a boostergang snorts
Thompson's eyes are cold, slate-like. You could
drugs. It tears out the cyberpirate's brain with brutal
write anything you wanted in them. "Get real," he
force, recreating it in a frozen storage matrix inside the
grates. "These were pros. If I'd jumped in, we'd both
mainframe. The word is on The Street that Soulkiller
be dead." The eyes appraise him. "You've been off
may be the closest thing to Hell on Earth, and these
The Street too long, Rocker. You think everyone has a
days, that's saying a lot.
nice agent, a couple Solos covering their butts, and a
comfy apartment like this somewhere. I let you take it, And Alt made that? Johnny bites down a momentary
because I knew it would take at least five minutes for wave of revulsion, superimposed over Alt's big green
you to bleed yourself dry. I waited for them to move eyes, her tousled mane of hair. "No wonder she didn't
on, then used my Trauma Card." There is a longish talk about her work," he says finally.
silence. Then, "Look, Rocker. You want to guilt-loop,
"I was following her, Rocker," says Thompson.
or you want to get your girl back?"
"Word's out that Arasaka is working on its own version
"So, name names," says Johnny. He sits down on the of Soulkiller. Something that can walk the NET freely,
edge of the bed, favoring his stapled side. He reaches getting up close and personal with people Arasaka
out for the tequila and takes a slug. doesn't like."
8
NEVER FADE AWAY
"A black-program assassin for a security company?" 'Runners looking to trade information. Fixers with guns,
Johnny is up and pacing now. He knows where this is armor, and smuggling jobs. But the place has bad mem-
going, and he doesn't like it. ories. She only comes here because Santiago insists
on it. "You don't let personal caca get in the way of
"You probably believe in Santa Claus too," says
business," he says. A lot he knows.
Thompson, reclaiming the dregs of the bottle. "Your
Alt is the missing link. I figured they'd have to recruit Her back is to the wall of the booth—her mirror-
her sooner or later, whether free or forced. Soulkiller's shaded eyes scan the room like monitor cameras.
main programming is buried in her head somewhere. What she can't see is covered by her partner,
So, I followed her." Santiago, from the opposite side of the booth. His
burly shoulders bulk the heavy armor jacket—he
"Thanks for the concern.''
looks like a scowling mountain. He's not her type. But
"You don't get it, Rockerboy. I want Arasaka. I want he wants her. Somehow, they've managed to work
them bad. I'll put anyone and anything on the line to this out—the way they worked out a combat style;
get them. Even myself—if I have to broadcast this story the division of spoils. But he keeps hoping. Stupid
from the grave, I'll do it. They're mine. You get in my Nomad.
way, you're flatlined. You go with me… " Thompson
Then she finds herself facing what she's dreaded for
lets it trail out.
the last two years; the reason she hates this crummy
Johnny stops pacing. The room goes still. Only the
bar; hates this crummy town. Johnny Silverhand walks
Hand moves, like something alive; silver metal joints
into the Atlantis.
clicking, takeup reels whirring, tiny pistons shooting
He still has the moves, she thinks, as he strides
in and out in simulation of a pulse. The Hand turns
through the big brass doors. Head held high, a cocky
Johnny to face the media man. It makes him say, "How
long do we have?" light in his pale glass eyes. After all this time, Rogue
still can't decide whether she wants him, or just wants
Thompson smiles lopsidedly. "How long will it take
to kill him. He looks like he owns the place as he
your input to rewrite Soulkiller? A day? Two?"
crosses the room towards her; a comment to an old
friend here, smiling at a fan there, a narrowed glance
"Yeah." Johnny turns, scoops up the keys to the
at a potential troublemaker; then he's standing in
Porsche. "You chipped for a smartgun?" he says.
front of her. "Rogue," he says, like nothing'd ever
Thompson reaches down to his feet; draws up a long
happened. "I need your help, Rogue." His voice is
black, nylon bag. "FN-RAL assault," he says, standing
urgent, magnetic.
up. "I was in the War. I like lead. Lots of lead."
"You can go to hell," she replies levelly. On the other
Rain runs down the front of the speeder. A wall of
side of the booth, there's a faint sound as Santiago
Corporate glass and steel looms to either side as they
slides one hand over the Minami 10 in his lap.
pull out into the down-town traffic. The Porsche whis-
tles slightly in the chill air, its CHOOH2 power plant Johnny leans closer. "Look," he says, "I'm sorry. I
throwing it against the City night. "So where are we know how you feel. And l wouldn't do this if I had
going, Rocker?" says Thompson. any other choice." He pulls up a chair and straddles
it, staring at her. "Tough," she shoots back acidly.
Johnny grits his teeth. "I've got a marker I have to
She hopes her voice sounds steadier than she feels.
pull in," he says.
"You owe me one," he says, his voice taking an
Rogue and Santiago edge. "For Chicago. You owe me one at least. And
it's not like I won't pay you. I've got euro."
Rogue hates the Atlantis. But she goes there because the "How much?" interjects Santiago. Johnny turns to
contacts are good, and the pickings easy. Corporates face him. "Word on The Street is you're pulling five
looking for a fast freelance assassination. Medias and grand a night. I'll match and double it."
9