What is this?

If you only scroll the home page, sure — it looks like a slick landing. Fine. Dig one layer down and you hit real systems: a mall catalog with thousands of SKUs, measured mass and volume, legality notes, shop art pipelines; corridor banking with personal and ship purses; cargo pods that nest; berth cabins; gardens and galleys; manifests; a paper-doll inventory that tracks armor coverage into location DR; radio that rotates real MP3s across three channels without stuffing audio into the app deploy; Net screamsheets with different editorial voices; bounty contracts; and API handshakes to a separate character-sheet host.

None of that fell out of a theme pack. The backend is fiddly on purpose. Credits move. Kit has weight. Holds fill. Worn armor changes what hits where. I wanted the campaign to live between sessions without me rewriting spreadsheets at 1 a.m. Building that was not easy. I'm proud of it.

A lot of folks arrive here with no idea what a TTRPG is. Fair. The short version: one person runs the world — the Game Master. Everyone else plays a character inside it. You talk. You argue. You roll dice when the outcome is uncertain. Nobody “wins” the way a board game ends. You leave with a story, and usually a few worse problems than you started with.

That kind of thinking is not exotic. Humans do it everywhere. Fantasy football. Strategy boardrooms. Military war games. Tabletop roleplaying simply takes that same strategic muscle — planning, tradeoffs, incomplete information, consequences — and walks it outside the box we live in. Same brain. Different physics.

Players get challenges that feel impossible and still have to solve them. They still follow rules. Just not always the rules of Tuesday morning on Earth. What happens when water becomes toxic and you're bathing in air? How does life evolve and survive there — and how do you talk to it? The game is the laboratory. The dice are the referee when the table can't agree.

You do not need a headset, a battle pass, or a server farm. You need people, a system for hard moments, and a world worth caring about. Pencils still work. So do browsers.

This table runs a classic 3D6skill engine — three dice, point-built characters, gear that has mass and legality, a world that's simulated instead of leveled. If you know the big commercial 3D6 generic system from the hobby-shop decades, you know the bones. We call it 3D6 here. House print is under House Rules.

Art. Catalog heroes, shop stills, ship decks, crew portraits, Net wire-stills, mall-cel product shots — painted and wired through Cursor, not scraped from stock. Corridor noir with grease under the fingernails.

Ads. Fake commercials for fake products that somehow feel like 02:00 station filler. Visuals on the Net, jingles on the radio — same con, two pipes.

Articles. Intel Archive and News Stand screamsheets with different editorial mouths. Not one freelancer writing every headline in the same voice.

Jobs. Live bounties — marks, pay, threat, fine print that will get you killed if you skim.

Crew. Elias, Ivan, Talyra, and the rest — on the home page, with backgrounds that read like people, not marketing gloss.

Ships. The Verdigris — walkable decks, a garden keeping magic alive in a mana-starved void, repair scars that still owe somebody money.

Shopping. The MEGA Port mall — Nullframe bots, White Mane plate, Wetdeck suits, clinic chrome, larder bricks. Credits, kilograms, legal notes that refuse to be cute.

Banking. Personal accounts, ship purses, carts that actually settle. Plot needs cash? Staff can provision. Players live on what they earned.

Ship management & building. Manifests, nested cargo, berths, galley, garden, shipyard— the logistics half of “we own a starship” that most games hand-wave.

Inventory. Paper-doll loadout. Undeployed kit. Wear trays that push coverage into DR. Weapon mounts. Packs that open. Hold nests that take drops. Fiddly. Correct.

Character sheets (not my code). Deep links hit the 3D6 sheet manager on gateway.elderweave.com— my husband's build. I call it over the API. I did notwrite that part. Not because I can't. Because I chose not to. Split the work; keep the campaign moving.

Bottom dock: three FM relays, real files, DJ idents, those ads again.

• KHES 91.3 Corridor Heavy — metal / industrial (Ringhowl, Ore-Pulse, Frost Engines, Hull Scraps)
• KSPI 94.7 Corridor Light — haul country, folk, pop, acoustic (Docklight Sons, Torin Vale, Maribelle Spoke, Sylen Star)
• KLAG 96.1 Corridor Dance — disco, electro swing, Latin heat (Midnight Gravity, Orbital Saints, Catwalk Syndicate, Dock Clave)

Twelve musicians. Twelve styles. Albums that keep growing. Full catalogs on this radio; selected albums also on YouTube. Change the dial. Leave it on while you read a contract.

Wendi Coffman-Porter— published author (bookstore shelves, not a vanity press), artist, dog trainer, professional game master, world-builder, service-dog mom, lifelong RPGer, websites since the early nineties. Cursor didn't invent the obsession; it just gave it a bigger workshop.

I built this mostly for fun and partly for my players — so “what's on the Verdigris?” has an answer that isn't a shrug. If you poked around and thought, damn, that's a lot of work — good. It was. If you enjoyed it too? That's AWESOME. Buy a fake robot. Argue with a screamsheet. Turn the radio up.