h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The Letter. Role-play scene. Turn 1.


The story really starts, for you at least, with a letter. That it has reached you is a mystery in itself, but its battered envelope opens to reveal an invitation to Sydney.

Dear Motorcycling Superhero,
You are cordially invited to attend a gathering of like-minded motorcycle afficionados in the luxurious surrounds of the Hotel St John, to celebrate the release of a new motorcycle, the St John Dragon Mark VII.
Your weekend-long stay at the hotel will of course be complimentary, as will a track session and day ride aboard the new Dragon.

Arrangements are possible if you would like to extend your stay in Sydney and wish to bring your own motorcycle with you.

The letter has been personally signed by Richard St John. You haven't heard much about the Australian bike manufacturer, but the little you have heard is impressive. A self-made billionaire (transport, manufacturing and media), St John has turned his Dragon bikes into items of considerable demand. Expensive, but better looking, sweeter sounding, faster and yet more versatile than any Ducati, the Dragon fills a niche market. You've heard rumours about the Mark VII - said to produce around 170hp through its three-cylinder engine, the Mark VII is meant to be the most potent bike made in Australia. And you've been offered a free ride.

The RSVP date is tomorrow. There's a phone number to call.

If you call:
The letter's contents are confirmed by a polite Australian, who introduces herself as Jo-anne, and the weekend is two weeks from now. If you need to fly to Sydney, a complimentary return flight aboard St John airlines is available, as is transport for your bike.

You just need to present yourself at the check-in counter and you will be able to fly. If you decide to have a holiday in Sydney, you will have to pay for accomodation after the weekend is over, but you can fly home any time.

If you don't call:
A good time was had by all...

Sydney. Role-play scene. Turn 1.

Your jet lands in Sydney as the sun sets, the thin layer of smog covering the city a quickly-fading burnt orange. One of the plane's crew escorts you to through the airport as you are whisked through Customs and Immigration formalities like visiting royalty and shepherded to a waiting stretch limousine, large enought to seat 6 in the passenger compartment. You notice that the driver is a large man, with brown, hard-looking hands. You also notice the large bruise around one eye...

Just a stone-throw away from the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the narrow streets around the hotel are filled with tourists and locals enjoying the cool air of dusk and of course the several fine pubs in this old part of Sydney. The streets run sharply down between sandstone buildings to Circular Quay, where the ferries and trains are collecting the last of the office-bound for the long commute home.

The Hotel St John squats above The Rocks, Circular Quay and the Harbour, its faux-granite facade causing it to loom like a misplaced European fortress. The gargoyles lurking at intervals above carved windows add to the effect, although a closer look reveals the gargoyles to be more humorous than threatening, and the light spilling from the wide doorway seems warm and welcoming.

The light illuminates a red carpet, and your limousine stops gently, perfectly positioned so that you may step out onto it.

Standing at the doorway is a beautiful young woman, blonde hair pulled neatly back, a crisp dark suit hugging her form. She steps forward as your chaffeur pulls open your door, her smile professional.

"Good evening and welcome to the St John! I am Jasmine, and Mr St John has asked me to take care of you and to answer any questions you may have...if you'd like to follow me, I'll be glad to show you the lobby and arrange for you to be taken to your rooms. Dinner will be in two hours time, where Mr St John would be most pleased if you could join him."

Already, your luggage is being carried through the doors by the hotel's staff.