psycho

[Rules of the role-playing game "Racial Holy War"]

Sometime in the near future, the world is torn by chaos, anarchy, and mayhem as the world has been devastated by the non-White population growth. All the lands of the world have been overrun by these despicable hordes while the noble White Man has been reduced to a tiny minority, barely surviving the terrors unleashed by the heinous forces of the malicious Jew.

Many scholars predicted the ravaged Earth that oppresses the superior White Race but few yielded these concerns. As a direct result, all civilization has been destroyed in a fiery blaze of disaster.

There is hope though. A small, yet growing, force is gaining power and is dedicated to cleansing the world of all the vermin. This band of White Warriors knows full well that defeat is not an option. Either they will carry the banner of the White Race to form a grandiose White Empire or all will be consumed in cold, dark blackness.

You are one of those warriors. Shall you arm yourself for battle or will you watch the beautiful White Women die? The choice is simple. The Racial Holy War will ensure triumphant victory. That victory is inevitable. RAHOWA!

[...]

There are 5 basic enemies in Racial Holy War--niggers, sand niggers, latrinos, gooks, and kikes. Each enemy has different strengths and weaknesses. Each also has a special attack that is more effective depending on the ability of the enemy. As such, the enemies do not have skills like the White Warriors, but do have a special attack. These special attacks can be employed in place of an attack, once per character per round of combat. The enemy chooses which White Warrior he wishes to use his special attack on and it therefore only effects that character, if successful. If it fails, no effect occurs and that enemy is done for the round (so can’t use a special attack and a normal attack in same round). Some enemies can use their special attacks and some normal attacks during a round of combat though (a single enemy just can’t use both in one round). The special attacks are more potent and more likely to succeed the more skilled the enemy is. To determine whether the special attacks are successful, the enemy must roll a so sided die and get a roll that is equal to or less than the designated number (depending on enemy). The effect and specifics of the special attacks are listed below.

Nigger
Niggers are smelly and stupid creatures who tend to possess thick skulls. These beasts are one of nature’s worst specimen, and it is the duty of a White Warrior to eradicate them at every possible chance. Their special attack is known as Stench and, if successful, the powerful odor that a nigger exudes.

[...]

Latrino
Latrinos are lazy and criminal vermin who waste valuable air on Earth, that should be reserved for Nature’s Finest--the White Race. Due to their history of illegal immigration, they are adept at crossing borders and sneaking around. Therefore their special attack is known as Stealth. This skill, if successful, allows the latrino to attack first as part of the special attack.

[...]

Sand Nigger
Sand Niggers are scumbags that have a militant religion in Islam. They have declared the White Race as one of their many enemies in their "Jihad" or holy war. Woe to the sand nigger who meets a White Warrior on the battlefield. Due to their fanatical faith, the special attack possessed by sand niggers is known as a Suicide Run. If successful, the sand nigger blows himself and a White Warrior up (sand nigger automatically dies while target White Warrior suffers damage); but if he fails, he simply perishes with a loud boom.

[...]

Gook
Gooks are timid, annoying, slanty-eyed pieces of excrement that so desperately wish they were White. Of course, they are not. They have reproduced quite prolifically and there is no doubt that the world will be a better place without them. From watching fake martial arts movies, the gooks have acquired an increased proficiency in hand-to-hand fighting. Therefore, this talent can only be applied with hand-to-hand fighting. If successful, this ability increases the amount of attacks that the character gets (a successful role means the gook goes on to attack as many times as his skill level designates) for that round of combat. If he fails, he doesn’t attack.

[...]

Kike
Kikes are undoubtedly the worst and most evil parasites that the world has over seen. They pervert all that is holy, honorable, and just. Once the kikes are removed, the formation of a glorious White Empire is but a step away. Through the years of lying, manipulation, and outright debauchery, the kike has succeeded through brain pollution. This talent is manifested in the kike’s special attack of Bribery.
A kike must spend 50 credits to do utilize this ability every time he uses it (credits are subtracted from kike’s total credits). If successful, the targeted White Warrior loses his turn for that round. If it fails, then the money is spent and target White Warrior receives the credits with no adverse affects. The kike is able to increase his chances of success by spending 50 credits per Bribe attempt to gain a point (up to 20, which is automatic success). This means that a Perfidious Kike, with a special attack value of 10, could add 50 credits to his Bribe and therefore need an 11 or less to achieve success (on a roll of a 20 sided die). Or, he could spend 500 (50 times 10) credits on the Bribe and bring the special attack value to 20, which is an automatic success.

[...]

The primary purpose of Racial Holy War is to provide entertainment to those loyal to the White Race. It as an experience where our dedicated White Warriors can do like many of us want to--slaughter the foul enemies of our people who are destroying our race. I therefore hope that it does allow our comrades to crush our enemies.
The world created in Racial Holy War is one of strife and mayhem where the White Warriors fight to bring about a glorious White Empire. If the laws of this realm do not conform to the tastes of some, then they can obviously change them. Someone might not like this or that rule, so change or get rid of this or that rule.
The important aspect is to have fun.
Input is very welcome and changes to the game are very possible. Any improvements to the game would also be optional and up to the players playing.
Of course for those who play strictly by the rules, then this is fine as that is what the rules are there for. In conclusion, have fun building a Whiter, Brighter World! RAHOWA!

Sundays at Hephzibah house were dominated by Church.

I sat in a metal folding chair trying not to squirm since I had no fat left to cushion the hard seat beneath me. I was in the last of 5 rows of 6 girls interspersed with 4 staff ladies. The Hephzibah girls and Hephzibah staff, along with their children made up the entire congregation in the little unfinished basement room. Behind me I heard the familiar sounds of little baby S nursing away during the service. It felt good to know that sweet Mrs. K. was behind me. She would not be quick to find fault in my posture or how my hair was curled. The rhythmic sounds of a suckling baby were soothing and normal sounds in this surreal world.

Back straight, eyes forward. I tried to pay attention to the long winded sermon and take good notes. Notes were turned in after every service and checked to make sure we paid attention to the service and were not daydreaming. If staff did not like your notes it was a paddling offense. Ron Williams had a theory that young people who were not engaged in busy work were lusting and enjoying lascivious fantasies.

My feet were cold and my back ached but otherwise the sermon was a nice reprieve from the normal stress of daily life at Hephzibah house.

Ron Williams deep voice filled the small room. He dwarfed the tiny podium.

Patti Williams sat on the left side of the room with all eight children in a row. There was always a well worn paddle laying on the seat beside her. It was not unusual to see her paddle her children for wiggling or making noise during the long sermons. The youngest was Seth, perhaps two years old and the darling irrepressible Benjamin was just four years old. I do not recall a service where that poor little boy did not get a severe beating. I was amazed how undaunted and happy he remained. Seth seemed dull. He just sat and sucked his fingers. He showed no signs of normal 2 year old curiosity and wonder. Maybe that is what a successfully broken will would looked like in a two year old. I found it profoundly disturbing.

Suddenly there was movement. I sensed rather than saw Mrs. K. stand up behind me. I dared not turn my head but up front Mrs Williams also hefted her wide girth out of her metal chair. It creaked loudly in protest. At just 40, Patti Williams was fat, slovenly and mean as a snake. Her grey hair in a stringy bun she stood looking back behind me towards the Mrs. K. and baby S. She had picked up the small paddle. A hard, tight smile crossed her humorless face. Mrs. K. had now made her way into my line of vision.

Mrs. K. was clearly upset as she carried her tiny baby towards the front of the chapel.

Ron Williams just droned on.

My stomach clenched. What was this???

Patti guided Mrs. K. into a small walled off area at the front of the room. The area was meant to be a closet one day. Now it had no door and served to store extra folding chairs. The two women entered the narrow room I had a partial view of the inside of the room but could no longer see Mrs. K. and the baby past Patti’s wide back.

Ron Williams kept preaching.

“NO! Oh NO!”

I was frozen. Staring straight ahead and gripping my pencil in horror.

WHACK!!

The baby SCREAMED.

We heard every powerful, stinging blow of the paddle hitting that tiny baby. It went on and on, every time there was a pause and I thought it was over it started up again.

Ron Williams actually stopped preaching. Grinning from ear to ear he made a fist and moved it enthusiastically across his body like a diabolical cheerleader, “Hit him again Sister! Hit him again!”

No one moved. No one DID anything. The babies cries were becoming strangled as he choked and he seemed to gasp dangerously between blows.

“Go get that baby Susan!” The voice in my head was screaming, “DO SOMETHING!”

I stared straight ahead as Ron Williams resumed his droning sermon. I thought of twenty scenarios where I saved that baby, but I sat glued to my seat. My blood ran cold.

The crying stopped before the blows stopped. Soon Mrs. K. stepped out from behind the wall she was sobbing and clinging to her baby Patti was right behind her with a huge self satisfied smile on her corpulent face, now red from exertion.

The baby was quiet. A spooky unnatural quiet. I watched the little bundle for signs of life intently until I saw his little chest heave showing he was indeed breathing.

How hard would you have to hit a baby to make him stop crying? Why would we all just sit there and let it happen?

I realized I had not taken any notes for several minutes. Somehow, knowing I would be paddled for that offense gave me a bizarre moment of satisfaction . A form of penance for my cowardice.

Everyone took their places.

Ron Williams droned on.