Too many capes. One front page.
Race your rivals across Cape City, clean up its messes, and cash in the glory before somebody scoops you.
Cape City spreads out from Town Hall in four districts — Northside, the East End, the South Docks, and West Heights. Every block is a face-down scene until some brave soul walks onto it. The deeper into a district you push, the nastier the trouble and the bigger the headline. Tier I is a cat in a tree. Tier IV is a kaiju using a container ship as a stepping stone.
Every scene prints exactly what it takes: CONSTITUTION TECH STRENGTH. Meet or beat every number and the scene is yours — no dice, no drama, just competence. Your fourth stat, SPEED, is how many blocks you cover in a turn.
Don't like the presets? Take The Original to the tailor's bench and cut your own cape: 9 points, spent however you like — speed runs 2–4, the check stats 1–3, exactly the lanes the presets live in. Any number of players can build custom — and everyone watches everyone's numbers move while the picks are made. Choose accordingly.
Here's the part they don't teach at hero school: completing a scene pays nothing. Proof pays. Carry your reward — one at a time — back to Town Hall and turn it in for the notoriety.
Speed is the only fuel there is. Every block you move costs 1. Completing a scene costs 1. Turning in costs 1. And you get exactly one big action a turn — complete or turn in, never both. Budget like a hero, or walk home like an intern.
Every scene you complete drops gear on the spot — and unlike glory, gear can't be scooped. Deeper scenes drop bigger hauls: tier 1 pays one card, tier 2 often two, and the shimmering holographic pulls (tiers 3–4) always pay at least two — the shimmer IS the promise. It comes in four flavors:
EQUIPMENT worn for keeps (two slots) · MODS that burn down over moves or rounds · ONE-SHOTS for the clutch moment · CONTINGENCIES armed face-down that fire themselves.
Playing cards is free — as many as you like, whenever you need them on your turn. One-shots are common; permanent equipment is one of a kind across the whole city. Your satchel holds five, so spend — hoarders discard. What's in it is your business: rivals see the count, not the cards.
You're not the only one in a mask. ANY scene can turn out to have a super on it: the first time somebody lands on a fresh card, the city rolls the dice — 1-in-10 on tier 1–2 streets, 2-in-10 in the tier 3–4 deep end — and a card flips off the Supers deck: the SUPERHERO working the scene, or the SUPERVILLAIN causing it. Their whole file goes up on the wall — stats from back-alley 1s to city-shaking 10s, and a bounty (1–3 ★) paid instantly to whoever drops them. While they're standing there, the scene is THEIRS: nobody completes that event except capes wearing their colors (same-siders get waved right in). Beat the super and the scene opens up for honest work — and yes, a monster squatting one step off Town Hall can wall a whole district. That's the game.
Battles are your one big move — battle, complete, or turn in: pick ONE per turn. You call the duel stat (their numbers are public — hit the weakness), throw up to two boosts, and swing; ties hold for the defender. Lose and you're hurled home, dropping whatever glory you carried. Everyone starts neutral: supers ignore you, and fighting one is your choice — but only a VICTORY picks your side (the opposite of whoever you beat; losing leaves you comfortably nobody). And ascending changes you: the moment you put on colors, a POWER SURGE hits — +1 to every check stat and +1 SPEED — and a SUPERPOWER MANIFESTS: one card off the Powers deck, yours for as long as you wear the mask. Flight that ignores roadblocks, a tie-taking iron will, a deeper satchel, a fatter bounty — every ascension plays different. Hate your roll? Burn a Burner Identity, go neutral, and earn a fresh one (the deck never deals the power you just shed). Capes punch above civilians; that's the point of becoming one, and it's why a walking bounty with surged stats is worth calling out. Once you wear colors, same-side supers wave you through, and stepping onto an enemy's block — cape or super — forces the showdown on the spot. An unbeaten enemy walls the road, and once your big move is spent, hostile ground is sealed until next turn — which is the whole strategy: a monstrous super can lock a district against one faction while the other strolls its missions home. Rival capes duel the same way (their gear stays secret; the winner takes +1 ★ off an equal-or-better name — no bullying rookies). Second thoughts about your side? A Burner Identity shreds the whole file — and the surge burns with it.
First cape to ★ 25 takes the headline, the key to the city, and a commemorative sandwich. Everyone else gets tomorrow's fish wrap. The Daily Cape thanks you for your service and reminds you that insurance is not included.
Enough reading. The city is, statistically speaking, already on fire.
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