False Documents: The Bruce-Partington Plans
More adventure seeds for your RPG from classic literature, this time involving Victorian submarines, Martian invasions, and archaeotech remnants from an Age Undreamt
A false document is a literary technique of inserting reference to a fictitious work within a larger work of fiction, with the goal of building mystery or lending depth and verisimilitude to a setting. Fictitious books like Tolkien’s Red Book of Westmarch or Lovecraft’s Necronomicon are known by almost everyone, but there are countless other examples that offer equally tantalizing possibilities for use in tabletop RPGs. False Documents will explore a different example in each installment, describe what it is and where it comes from, flesh it out, and offer ruleset agnostic suggestions on how you might use it in your own games.
(Other False Documents: The Joyce-Armstrong Fragment, the Deep School Manual)
III. The Bruce-Partington Plans
"You may take it from me that naval warfare becomes impossible within the radius of a Bruce-Partington's operation.”
Sources
“The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans,” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 1908
“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” Jules Verne, 1870
“The Mysterious Island,” Jules Verne, 1874
“The Crystal Egg,” H.G. Wells, 1897
“The War of the Worlds,” H.G. Wells, 1898
Canon
The tale of the recovery of the lost Bruce-Partington Plans has attained well-earned fame even in the storied career of that distinguished consulting detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The plans, a collection of ten mechanical diagrams and technical descriptions for building an extremely advanced (for its day) type of submarine, were stolen from the Woolwich Arsenal by one Colonel Valentine Walter and sold to the spy Hugo Oberstein. No less an authority than Holmes’ brother Mycroft, that one-man braintrust of Her Majesty’s government, described the Bruce-Partington submarine as revolutionary and decisive in naval warfare. It transpires that four out of the 10-pages of schematics are essential to a foreign power constructing their own Bruce-Partington submarine, suggesting that the other six describe details readily known to the then-Great Powers of Europe. Although the name and some rumor of the submarine’s capabilities were known to the general public, none but a select few in the Admiralty were privy to its full secrets.
Apocrypha
A Bruce-Partington type submarine was powered by a diesel engine on the surface, which charged a powerful array of batteries used to power the craft underwater, giving it a top speed of 20 knots while surfaced and 15 knots submerged. Its double-hull was capable of dives of 100 meters or more, and it could operate underwater for up to a full day. Other features of note include an oxygen-generating system, a delicate hydrophone array, and remote steerable torpedoes. While these are hardly notable in the modern day, in 1895, such capabilities were the dreams of wild-eyed futurists and authors of scientific-romances. Even so, the Bruce-Partington sub itself is far less capable and interesting than its source of inspiration.
Although graced with the name of the British engineer who designed it, the B-P submarine has been better called the Lesser Nautilus. Mr. Bruce-Partington was chief mind behind the Royal Navy’s 1885-1888 operation to locate and raise the hull of Captain Nemo’s infamous submarine off the shores of Lincoln Island. Stupefied by the technical sophistication of the vessel, Bruce-Partington became convinced that Nemo was merely the fortunate discoverer, not the inventor of the Nautilus. He deemed the submarine to be the product of a lost technological civilization, possibly several thousands of years old. He kept such fancies close to his breast, however, even as he was ridiculed for his slow progress. On the brink of being dismissed, he found an ally and a believer in Mycroft Holmes, who was privy to other startling discoveries, and had independently come to a similar conclusion.
By 1893, Bruce-Partington had achieved enough success in creating a rudimentary emulation of some of the Nautilus’s systems that he was ordered to stop his research and get to work on designing a new type of fleet submarine capable of being built and operated by the British shipbuilders. Although he forcefully argued that they were not ready, his protests fell on deaf ears. The Empire would soon be at war with an alliance of continental powers, they told him. But in truth, the foe that Her Majesty’s government perceived was not France or Germany, but Mars.
Forewarned by the supernatural surveillance carried out by the Wise Knights of the Enlightenment and the discovery of the Martian communication device known as the “Crystal Egg” in a London antique shop, all of Britain’s efforts were thrown into preparing for a possible confrontation with the forces of the Red Planet. Although most still held out hope of a peaceful encounter, all agreed that greater military preparedness would be a great inducement to that end. A fleet of Bruce-Partington submarines was to be an essential component of that military program.
It is unknown how many B-P subs were completed by the time the first cylinder landed in the summer of 1898; probably there were fewer than five. In any event, the Bruce-Partington subs had no great effect on the war. It turned out the Martians had nothing in the way of naval forces for them to fight. The high point of their service came during the evacuation of London, when HMS Aquarius participated in the rescue of the Prince of Wales and ferried him on the first leg of his transport to India. Other than Aquarius, which survived the war, no records of the other possible B-P subs survived the seven years of desperate fighting.
Equipment
Obviously, the Bruce-Partington subs themselves could feature prominently in the plot of a historical or steampunk game like Space 1889 or Castle Falkenstein, and the archeotech submarines of the lost Atlantean civilization like the Nautilus could feature in a number of genres. Since most GMs are unlikely to let their PCs obtain a submarine, however, this section will focus on more modest items.
Rouquayrol Apparatus
Essentially a 19th century SCUBA system. The crew of the Nautilus pioneered the use of compressed air (supplied by the submarine itself) tanks integrated into hard-skinned atmospheric diving suits to walk along the ocean floor. Though bulky, it allowed divers to operate independently of tethers and surface air supplies commonly used in the 1800s. Like all pressurized containers, they may explode disastrously.
Mechanical Gill
Based on the same principles as the B-P sub’s oxygen production system, this large backpack features an electrically driven pump that draws seawater through electric coils that separate the oxygen and hydrogen atoms. A filter and secondary pump expels CO2 back into the sea. A small stockpile of them was recovered from the wreck of the Nautilus but the power generation and miniaturization required to manufacture them was not available until the 1960s.
The rechargeable batteries on the original archeotech devices were temperamental, perhaps due to being centuries or millennia old. Their lifespan was D4+1 hours, with a 15% chance of exploding if damaged or their inner-workings exposed to seawater.
Aqua-Fulminator Rifles
Nemo’s crew employed a highly sophisticated form of air rifle that could fire miniature harpoon bolts containing a tiny capacitor with enough charge to kill or paralyze a man or large fish, like sharks. The rifles were single shot and had to be charged with high-pressure air from a Rouquayrol apparatus after firing. The rifle and cartridge were apparently of Nemo’s own design, but the capacitors were beyond anything known to 19th century science. A large stockpile of ammunition was recovered from the Nautilus; Bruce-Partington mentioned the capacitors in his technical notes on the submarine’s batteries, apparently having learned more from these functioning devices than the ruined submarine’s damaged power system.
Underwater, the hydrodynamic flechettes have an effective range of about 20 yards. They may also be fired on land, with an effective range of 100 yards, but with significantly reduced accuracy.
Gnosis
The Bruce-Partington schematics themselves are a fascinating historical document and represent impeccable engineering for the late 19th century, but they contain nothing that pulls back the curtain on the secrets of the world. Bruce-Partington’s private journals and some related correspondences, however, reveal many clues about an ancient, industrialized, seafaring civilization buried in the fog of prehistory. Were the creators of fabulous submarines like the Nautilus the true inspiration of the Atlantis myth? Are such technological wonders, perhaps, proof of Theosophical theories about Mu and Lemuria? And what effect would such knowledge have on the social stability of proud humanity should it become widely known?
Plot Hooks
Raise the Nautilus!
The PCs are recruited to assist with Bruce-Partington’s expedition to locate and salvage Nemo’s famous submarine. The venture is fraught with perils, including storms, giant squid, German spies, and probably a German gunboat or two.
Casus Belli
An inferior Italian copy of the Bruce-Partington submarine, completed without the full schematics for the ballast valves, goes down on its maiden voyage. The Italians are convinced that it was the work of Austro-Hungarian saboteurs, however. The PCs must prove the true reason for the tragedy in order to avoid a European war.
Woe to the Vanquished
Not yet commissioned on the eve of the Martian invasion, the B-P submarine HMS Vanquisher puts to sea on a desperate mission to torpedo the undersea city of Ahu-Y’hola off the coast of Cornwall before the Deep Ones can formalize their alliance with the Martians. The Deep Ones, however, are no pushovers, and even the state-of-the-victorian art technology of the Vanquisher may not be enough to stand up to the punishing depths and the city’s titanic guardians.
This series is great. I'm tempted to run some Indiana Jones style games, using these.