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Quote of the Week from my gaming group...


Darren Watts

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Bulletproof Samaritan - Flying Brick 

Hombre Panthera - Were-Jaguar 

<UTF> (Universal Translation Fail - his name is never said the same way twice.) - 2 headed alien with Luck Manipulation and a ray gun.

 

We introduced a new character to the group last session: Ivy.

 

Ivy's a descendant of the druids living in a magically shielded location in Canada's far NW. She has druid magic powers over plants and animals etc. 

 

Scene: Ivy is out front of the UN Building giving a (boring) speech about the damage that pollution and over industrialisation are doing to the world.

The other heroes have come along to hear her speak. Hombre Panthera is an environmentalist and keen. The other two are curious as Ivy has been in the news of late as she has made her way across North America on a public awareness raising tour. 

 

Ivy is holding up a small branch from a rare species of tree as an example of what pollution is doing. <UTF> is bored and so he adjusts the dial on his luck manipulator "to make something interesting happen." 

Ivy feels her magic go off involuntarily and the branch grows into very large, fully grown pine tree. It starts falling toward the crowd but it's caught by Bulletproof Samaritan just in the nick of time.

 

Samaritan: (nods toward <UTF>) He fiddled with his knob and she got wood.

Ivy (wondering how her magic could have activated without her will): I will have to get to the root of this problem.

Hombre Panthera (pretending to be sick of the jokes): We should leaf it here.

<UTF> (supporting Hombre's suggestion): We should branch off at some point...

 

My girlfriend comes into the room wondering what all the laughing is about:

 

My GF (OOC): It took me a moment to twig, but I caught on.

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On 6/18/2014 at 6:29 AM, Drhoz said:

For some reason, the client warned us not to touch anything else in the office, which is a shame, since it also contains a black credit stick - i.e : an absolute fortune in untraceable funds.

 

GM: You press the display button - it contains 750,000 Nuyen

Felix: F**k!

 

I remember this part of the adventure. We actually figured out how to fulfill the letter of our agreement not to touch anything in the office, but still get our hands on the credstick...

 

I don't recall the exactly how the discussion went, but it went something like this (after we were safely away):

 

"Morlock told us that we can't touch the stuff in the office. He didn't say anything about what we do to stuff outside the building. We wait until the chief editor takes the credstick out of the building, then we grab it from him. I can figure out a few possible scenarios. We just need to be able to cover those possibilities, and we're good."

 

"We know credsticks aren't for normal, legitimate business. They'd just run those through their normal accounts. It's either secret or dirty. If it's dirty, they don't want to be caught with it. If it's secret, they don't want to be asked about it. If this was a megacorp, nobody would think twice. They always keep millions in dirty or secret nuyen around. But this is a little publisher. Maybe the company is fronting for somebody. Maybe the editor is. Maybe the company or the editor is into something illegal and is hiding the money here. For the most part, it doesn't matter."

 

"If this is the chief editor's illegal stash, then he needs to move it before the company starts investigating thoroughly, and he'll have to do it himself to avoid arousing suspicion. Even if it's the company's money, he may claim that we stole it, then pocket it himself. That still means he has to move it himself."

 

"If the chief editor is just a loyal front man for something secretive or dirty, then he still has to move it. That safe just isn't secure, and he knows it. Even if there's another safe in the building, he can't use that either. It was in the chief editor's safe, because that ensures that he's the only one who can access it. If they put it anywhere else in that building, some other employee will be able to access it too. We made it clean enough that they have to wonder whether we had someone inside. If so, moving it to another spot in the same building could hand it to the inside man. They've got to move it to somewhere secure outside the building."

 

"Given what that program did inside of their system, they're going to get investigated. Big time. So they have to move it subtly. Maybe the chief editor moves it himself. Maybe he gets a bodyguard to accompany him. Maybe he uses a high-end bonded courier. If he gets much beyond that, he's going to attract attention. It's going to stay small. No armored vehicles. No squads of company men. No helicopters. It will be something that won't stand out too much in this environment."

 

"And we can make sure that they're under scrutiny. Once they've had time to discover the problem, we'll anonymously tip off a couple young and hungry reporters. They can hang around, asking questions, taking pictures, being nosy. With reporters around, they can't bring in big guns."

 

"After that, we just watch to see who comes in and compare the visitors to employees and clients. If a new face shows up before the chief editor leaves the building, that's the courier or bodyguard."

 

"So we need a plan to hit a moving vehicle. We're taking the vehicle and one or two occupants. We use disguises because we may be recorded by the reporters. We'll need enough diversion to cover our escape. That's the mission. Let's get some eyes on the publisher and come up with a real plan."

 

The conversation was done in front of the GM, and there was some metagaming that went into what was said. Either the GM could take the mini-adventure we had just handed him and run with it, or he could come up with some transparent, genre-breaking way to keep the money out of our hands.

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Last night's pathfinder game with my girl friend.

 

The PCs are near the border of the Elven realm of Celene (in the World of Greyhawk.) They find themselves overlooking a river valley, all lit with a golden glow as if lit by the sunrise.

 

Iggy, Half-Elf Bard:   We're in Elf country.

Myrtle, Half-Orc Barbarian:   How can you tell?

Iggy:   <takes a deep breath>   Smell the air. It's all persimmons, lemon-myrtle and fanny farts.*

 

 

*My girlfriend and I are Australian.  To translate that into North American would be: "It's all persimmons, lemon myrtle and queefs."

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A certain amount of ranting about computer games

Cassius' player: I already have multiplayer gameplay - it's called 'have some friends over and play a game!'

Aladar: 'When we last left our villains...'

Aboard the drifting Ardent Crown, menaced by Tyranids, lurking Eldar, and a greater daemon. Unfortunately for Jrska, it's not a daemon that can be fast-talked - it's the entity known as The Hunter.

GM: It's a very old Daemon.
Cog: Crotchety.
Jrska: 'Get off my lawn!'

Aladar: He materialised in mid-air. So he's only got one direction.

Cassius: One Direction? I always knew they were a product of the Warp.

It's also armed with a demonic flintlock, which it starts using on our minions.

Jrska: There's an old joke retold on any planet with dangerous wildlife. 'I don't need to outrun the lion'

Cassius, meanwhile, is a knot of pure willpower holding itself together in the hellish Warpspace dimension, rebuilding itself one concept at a time. One of those concepts is a less than reassuring.

Jrska: 'I'm in the Warp... and I'm not dead'

He opts to broadcast this - after all, why not share the pain if you can?

Cassius: I'm directing this at Jrska - I'M NOT HAPPY

Cassius reassembles his soul rapidly enough to fend off the gathering pack of lesser Warp entities.

Jrska: At least you can push all your abilities without fear of side-effects. The worst has already happened... On the other hand, there is one major problem with using psychic abilities while you're actually in the Warp - attracting bigger predators.

Aladar: EVERYBODY BACK TO THE SHIP!
Jrska: *kills the last large Tyranid* I'm turning around and giving Aladar an expression that means 'And who the fuck put you in charge?' But since I don't want to confuse the witless minions with contradictory orders, give an internal sigh and say 'Back to the ship, ladies!' and give Aladar a dirty look. If Aladar's volunteering to cover the retreat I'm not complaining - he can be replaced.

Aladar uses Cog's Graviton Gun to pin the deamon briefly in place. That should give Jrska, the mutant crew, and her Kingfisher Girls, a few more seconds grace.

GM: And you're running?
Jrska: Yes. And waving the plasma pistol around so it'll cool down faster.

That's when she runs into an Eldar ambush, and loses a number of mutants to a cloud of monomolecular web. The Eldar seem slightly irritated that they had to cancel whatever they were doing, to deal with the deamon we inadvertently unleashed. Knowing the Eldar, they probably WANTED a ship-full of Tyranids to crash into Solace, as part of some convoluted plan to protect the Eldar, but apparently unleashing The Hunter on the populace was not part of their calculations.

Eldar Farseer: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU MON-KIEGH FOOLS??

The xenos psyker and the Warp Spider aspect warriors blink out, teleporting on towards the engine room.

Jrska, annoyed by the Eldar not hanging around for her amusement, orders pursuit. The mutant crew vacillate, and decide discretion is the better part of honour. After all, they can always claim they didn't hear Jrska yelling at them. Her Kingfisher Girls, naturally, obey without hesitation or fear, and the horde runs back towards the engine room.

The deamon and Aladar face off, and shoot each other. Naturally, Aladar comes off worse. Amazingly, he survives. Perhaps the Chaos gods are amused by his idiocy and intervened on his behalf.

Jrska: Possibly you got the bullet through the skull, where it couldn't do any damage.

Aladar, phased out of reality, drifts off through the floor, insubstantial, unconscious, and trapped in broken power armour.

The Farseer and the other Eldar arrive, and enter combat against the Hunter, but it's Cog who finishes off the monster. The deamon implodes, and Cassius returns, congealing out of the wound in reality to express his displeasure at the Eldar and anybody else nearby. And the Eldar have positioned themselves midway between Cassius, Cog, and Jrska's onrushing mob - tactical idiocy verging on suicide, but never mind - Jrska is a big supporter of euthanasia.

Jrska and her Kingfisher Girls pile onto the Eldar from behind, dismembering a Warp Spider exarch, and moving on to the one carrying a mysterious case.

Jrska: The only reason I didn't go after the Farseer is because Cassius wants a Farseer alive.
Cassius: And I would have filleted Jrska alive.

Cog fires his plasma weapon into the melee.

GM: You also hit six of Jrska's Kingfisher Girls.
Cog: ...
Jrska: Don't worry about it - they'll enjoy it.
GM: Being incinerated?
Jrska: Sure. Slaaneshi cultists - we enjoy anything.

Cassius goes after the Farseer, who is badly unmatched, even though Cassius is striking to subdue and not bisect. The Eldar succumbs to his fury, while Jrska casually vaporises the pack of Furies that followed Cassius out of the hole, without Cassius even being aware of the problem.

Jrska: Problem solved.
Cassius: What problem?
Jrska: Nothing important, my lord. Did you want a stun grenade for that one?
Cassius: No, this way is more fun *keeps punching the Farseer in the face to keep her unconscious*
GM: Effective, but time-consuming.

And where IS our pet idiot, anyway?

Aladar: I think I'm being carried.
Jrska: By what?
Aladar: I don't know. I can't move my head.
Jrska: He's been captured by the Tyranids, my lord. We should give up on him as a lost cause.
Cassius: ...I really like that lascannon.
Aladar: There's no skittering.
Jrska: He's been captured by slug-like Tyranids, my lord, we should give up on him.
Cassius: I REALLY like that lascannon. If you want to ensure your usefulness to me, get it surgically implanted.

GM: Cog is being carried by two of the mutants.
Cassius: Good work, men. But I'm afraid Aladar doesn't count as loot.

The Eldar ship backs away and starts opening fire. It looks like we won't be able to control the descent of the wreck onto Solace. Pity - billions killed in a crust-cracking fireball would have been a wonderful sacrifice to Chaos, as well as badly hurting the Imperial war effort here on the Fringe.

Cassius: You have two choices - loot, or live.

Cassius has Cog cut away the armour around Aladar's trigger finger, and props him up to cover our retreat. After all, any Tyranids left on board will be fleeing like rats towards our own vessel, and Aladar still needs to claim another skull for Khorne.

Aladar: Would I fail the objective if I kill MORE than 8 enemies?
Jrska: Of course not. Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne.
Cassius: Khorne NEVER says no to more blood.

Jrska, Cog, the surviving Kingfisher Girls and mutants, and our captives and prizes, flee back to the Chains of Judgement - with any luck the Eldar fire will shake our ship loose of the wreck.

Cassius: What would a Primitive Lascannon be, anyway?
Jrska: A bundle of laser pointers and some duct tape.

The hibernating Tyranids are boiling out of the wreck like fire ants from a nest - we decide now is a good time to try and break the two ships apart, even if we are damaged in the process. Cassius arrives back on board just as we separate. Aladar is hurt that we didn't wait for him to take the helm.

Aladar: You're using the autopilot? Dude!
Jrska: It's a cogitator trained by studying Aladar. I suppose you could call it an expert system - but this is Aladar we're talking about.

Jrska: Does Aladar's Machine trait make him immune to my Beguiling Gem?
Cassius: Yes. He has no interest in you anymore.
Jrska: I told you we should have left him behind.

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Drhoz's Shadowrun stories have reminded me of an old Shadowrun campaign.

 

The runners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.

 

Dent: ork, rat shaman

No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer

Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist

Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic

Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems

Happy Jack: troll, combat, disguise, negotiator

 

The runners all live in the Ork Underground.

 

GM: You could live in different neighborhoods.

Happy Jack: We live in a neighborhood where 80% of our enemies stick out like a sore thumb, and we look like everybody else.

 

I have no idea how many of the GM's adventure ideas we screwed up by living in that neighborhood.

 

But in this episode, the GM decided to run with the Ork Underground idea. Alamos 20,000 somehow managed to steal some cyberhounds and reprogram them. True to form, they released them at an entrance to the Ork Underground and sent them in to slaughter anyone they found. Coincidentally, the cyberhounds entered the Ork Underground near the PCs location. The dogs didn't last long.

 

Dent: "Hey, real meat is on the menu tonight!"

 

Audacity Jane: (to Happy Jack) "Why did you insist on subduing the last one?"

Happy Jack: "So Byte Force can reprogram it and have a guard dog."

Byte Force: "I can't afford to feed a dog. They eat meat."

Happy Jack: "Meat? What are you talking about? Dogs eat kibble, just like people do."

 

After stripping the cyberware out of the dead cyberhounds...

 

Happy Jack: "Let's make friends with our neighbors. I'm going to pay one of the restaurants to chop it up and cook it for us. Then we can we have a neighborhood party."

 

The neighbors turn out in droves for free meat. Enterprising restaurants and store owners start selling nutrisoy side orders to go along with meat. It turns into an impromptu street festival.

 

..And then the corporate security team walks into the Underground and up to the festival...

 

Security Captain: "We've tracked our stolen property to this area. We want it returned."

Byte Force: "Have some barbecue."

Security Captain: "We're not interested in food. We're interested in our missing property."

Byte Force: "Then have some barbecue."

Happy Jack: (interrupting) "Captain, would your property happen to be four dogs?"

Security Captain: "You have seen our property."

Happy Jack: "So your property ran in and killed three of our neighbors?"

Large crowd of orks and trolls: "..."

Security Captain: "Um..." (pause) "Our property was stolen. We had no control over that. What happened to the dogs after that?"

Happy Jack: (grins) "They ran into me."

 

While the Security Captain was distracted, No-Step walked up behind him and yanked some hair out of his head.

 

Security Captain: "Hey!" (aiming weapons at No-Step)

Audacity Jane: "Captain, if any of you touch that skinny shaman, every man, woman and child here will kill you."

(long pause, as everyone freezes)

Audacity Jane: "Of course ... if you attack the troll, we're just going to sit back and laugh."

Security Guard #1: (to Happy Jack) "The orks don't seem to like you much, troll."

Eye Spy: "We like the troll just fine. We won't miss you lot, though."

Security Guard #2: "He's not even armed, and we have..."

...SHHKKKKKKKKKKT...

(Happy Jack had pulled a blade out of his jacket and yanked open the telescoping handle, turning it into a polearm.)

Audacity Jane: "You have SMGs. He's bulletproof. His polearm has Dikote, so it's going to cut through your armor like butter."

Security Captain: (trying to regain control of the situation) "We're not here for a fight. We're just here to retrieve our property."

Happy Jack: "Have some barbecue. Take it back to your corporation. Run some DNA tests on it. That's as much of your property as you can salvage."

(pause as the security team realizes what happened to the cyberhounds)

Security Captain: "What about the cyberware? You didn't eat that. We'd like it back."

Happy Jack: "Go talk to your corporate medics and wage mages. If they can find a way to bring our neighbors back from the dead, we'll see about getting your cyberware back."

Security Captain: "The people who stole the dogs are responsible for the deaths."

Happy Jack: "If we learn anything about the thieves, we'll be happy to pass the information on to you. But your negligence contributed to the situation."

(the security team turns to leave)

Happy Jack: "Captain, your corporation managed to generate a fair amount of ill-will through today's events. Let your bosses know that we would consider it a gesture of goodwill if they set aside an appropriate amount of money for the bereaved families."

Security Captain: "I'll mention it, but I can't guarantee anything."

No-Step: (holding up the strands of the captain's hair) "Persuade them, Captain."

 

After the security team leaves...

 

Dent: "How did they track the dogs to this spot? Tracer chips in the dogs' cyberware?"

Happy Jack: "And that's why we always throw stuff into farraday cages."

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The Runners are heading off to Scotland, to find a missing person. Preparations are made, including plans for that girl and the Woman in Red from the elf poser policlub.

Titus: Four people have moved in with me since we started this.
Felix: At least you don't need to hire a housesitter.

And our cover stories for going into the UK?

Greenlight: I'm an urban explorer - I explore abandoned buildings.
Felix: Or cities.

At least we don't have problem with Customs.

Warhammer: I will.... leave my weapons at home. And cry.

Felix: We went into the country as paranoid as the government.

Felix is posing as a birdwatcher.

Felix: I heard a rumour a Siberian Rubythroat has been seen in the Orkneys. I hope they weren't stringing me along.
Greenlight: 'I want to see if it's true about English vs African unladen swallows.'
Inkubus: Please don't give me straight lines like that.

Felix goes buying 'birdwatching gear' - binoculars, telescopes, camouflage netting, etc. Inkubus goes birdwatching - in Soho. Warhammer tags along.

Inkubus: The moment he said he was looking for a wench I assumed he was going with me. Trust the Inkubus instincts - if they're there I'll bee-line towards them.

Inkubus: I getting a troll roll.
GM: ?
Inkubus: Full body massage from a troll. You want deep massage? This is it.

Titus is concerned he'll be conspicuous, even with his Chelsea Flower Show cover story.

Titus: Plus there's that whole 'troll walking down the street carrying a sledgehammer' thing.
Greenlight: Never stopped you in Seattle.
Inkubus: But that was Seattle. This is a police state.

Titus drops by Mortimer's of London to get his Greatcoat adjusted. Mortimer's were the first high-end fashion house to recognise the Heavy Dollar.

Greenlight: I can see it now 'Ah, hello, you're a Shadowrunner, aren't you?'
Titus: ...No?
Mortimer's of London attendant: Didn't think so. If sir would like to come this way to see our range of special weighted canes....

Up to Edinburgh, where our client, one Alasdair, invites us around for a drink.

GM: What's a wee dram?
Felix: According to Inkubus, something that comes in a pint glass.

The missing person, one Quicksilver, is an elven Decker of some repute, has a habit of giving his corporate bodyguards the slip for days at a time, but being missing for a fortnight is a bit much.

The Client: I know he had an acquaintance at the university - a platonic relationship, I believe.
Felix: I'm amazed you don't have a comment there, Inkubus.
Inkubus: ?
Felix: 'Platonic? What's that?'
Inkubus: Hey! I have lots of platonic - Greenlight! Have we f***ed?
Greenlight: No, thank Christ.
Warhammer: And now that mental image is going to haunt me forever - where is my alcohol?

Tracking Quicksilver down, starting at the pub he was last seen at, questioning his friend at the university, and as is increasingly likely, planning a trip out to the Isle of Skye.

Felix: A Scottish bar - i.e the ones all the bloodstains on the footpath outside.
Greenlight: Outside?
Felix: They have sawdust inside.

Felix: A little drinkies before dinner. Or possibly a great big drinkies.

GM: It has genuine sawdust on the floor inside.
Felix: Told you! I fucking told you!

Inkubus succumbs to the array of whiskies on offer.

Inkubus: I'll have a glass of the single malt.
Warhammer: I'll have the bottle.
Greenlight: *sigh* I'll have what he's having
Warhammer: A headache in the morning.
Felix: What do you recommend for a Mexican lightweight?
Greenlight: Milk.

Felix has lager.

Felix: Isn't this supposed to be colder?
Inkubus: At least the whiskey will be served over ice.

GM: The barman goes behind the bar for a few minutes and returns with two tiny shot glasses
Felix: And welding goggles and tongs?
Greenlight: I was thinking the same thing! Is he pouring the plutonium?
Inkubus: No, this is the good stuff
Greenlight: This is so wasted on me...
Inkubus: You are going to be so drunk.

Inkubus also succumbs to the pretty barmaid.

Greenlight: it's amazing! You can actually see the moment he loses control.

Barmaid: Why would anybody send a bunch of Yanks after someone here?
Felix: Because we're well known for sticking our noses in where we're not wanted?
Greenlight: No-one's going to care about a bunch of dumb Americans.
Warhammer: I don't!
Greenlight: *takes away the bottle*

Quicksilver has a number of female acquaintances, including the barmaid, a professor at the university, and some woman out of the Isle of Skye.

Felix: Are we sure he isn't just on the run from a paternity suit?
Titus: Or several.

GM: She's actually South African.
Inkubus: With an Irish-Gaelic name. In Scotland.
Warhammer: She's all kinds of special.

Felix: If we find him we'll tell him off for making you worry. And is this lager supposed to have chunks in it?

GM: Are you an elf that makes a plausible nature-lover?
Inkubus: NO
Greenlight: 'I laugh at your Crying Indian'

Our client suspects somebody at their company wanted Quicksilver dead, and volunteer to explore the company's datasystems for proof.

Inkubus: Alasdair's plush apartment - and I don't raid the liquor cabinet.
Greenlight: I'll add it to the tally.
Inkubus: I'M IN SCOTLAND

Felix: I've seen the Tri-Vids - hacking is hammering away on the keyboard, and there's lots of scrolling green text.

Purrdence: Escher did the weird perspective stuff. Like the end of Labyrinth
Greenlight: Which Labyrinth?
Purrdence: The one with David Bowie's crotch. Although there was a series called Labyrinth that had nothing to do with David Bowie.
Titus: Or his crotch.

Inkubus's player: This is one reason why I pushed for us all to be magically active - so we don't have to deal with this Matrix bullshit.
Greenlight's player: I didn't come here to play with myself for an hour.
Me: *Snerk.*
Greenlight's player: I can do that at home.
Purrdence: *helpless with laughter*
Inkubus's player: And sometimes it only takes five minutes.

Weirdness - Quicksilver's avatar appeared on the screen, begging to be taken to Amelia. His contact at the university?

Felix: Well, at least we learned something - let's go find this Amelia person in the morning. And hope it isn't Earhart.
Greenlight: Mystery solved.
Felix: Apparently she was eaten by crabs.
Warhammer: Ha!
Greenlight: Alive?!
Felix: Deceased. Hopefully.

Professor Amelia: Are you the Mixed Course students?
Felix: Well, I'm German-Mexican if that counts.

Apparently Quicksilver had an interest in reincarnation, the afterlife, and that elven writer who's manuscript we nicked a few weeks back. Now there's a coincidence.

Not that the manuscript was particularly coherent.

Felix: He'd been eating the special mushrooms that week.

Alasdair phones us - he's afraid he's attracted attention from somebody at the company.

Inkubus: Quickly, to the bus! ... When's the next one due?
Greenlight: Five minutes? Wait, it's Sunday, we have to use the special timetable.
Titus: Didn't we just see it go past?
Inkubus: Fuck.

Alasdair has been magically murdered.

Felix: This is going to sound callous, but if he's dead, do we still get paid?

How to get away without attracting attention? Especially with Inkubus and Felix astrally projecting, and clearing up the forensic evidence that might incriminate us?

Felix: We're drunk.
Warhammer: Whahay!
Greenlight: Hey, Warhammer turns Australian when he's drunk.
GM: At two in the afternoon?
Inkubus: We're tourists :D
Warhammer: And American.
Inkubus: And it's 5 in New York.

For some reason, we continue with the mission to find Quicksilver. Off to the Isle of Skye! Hopefully we can find SOMEBODY to pay us.

GM: You get a car.
Warhammer: Brmm brmm
GM: Sorry, truck.
Warhammer: BRMMM, BRMMM

At least we can avoid an electronic trail.

Inkubus: One of the advantages of Running over here.
Felix: They still use cash
Inkubus: How quaint!

GM: You get to see the picturesque Scottish countryside as you drive.
Inkubus: F**k that! We're taking turns driving, and whoever isn't driving is sleeping.

Greenlight: Inkubus x Felix seems so romantic
Inkubus: Eh, I don't swing that way and he can do better
Greenlight: I don't know what Felix's type is. Maybe a candlelit dinner and some documentation?

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Bulletproof Samaritan - Flying Brick 

Hombre Panthera - Were-Jaguar 

<UTF> (Universal Translation Fail - his name is never said the same way twice.) - 2 headed alien with Luck Manipulation and a ray gun.

 

We introduced a new character to the group last session: Ivy.

 

Ivy's a descendant of the druids living in a magically shielded location in Canada's far NW. She has druid magic powers over plants and animals etc. 

 

Scene: Ivy is out front of the UN Building giving a (boring) speech about the damage that pollution and over industrialisation are doing to the world.

The other heroes have come along to hear her speak. Hombre Panthera is an environmentalist and keen. The other two are curious as Ivy has been in the news of late as she has made her way across North America on a public awareness raising tour. 

 

Ivy is holding up a small branch from a rare species of tree as an example of what pollution is doing. <UTF> is bored and so he adjusts the dial on his luck manipulator "to make something interesting happen." 

Ivy feels her magic go off involuntarily and the branch grows into very large, fully grown pine tree. It starts falling toward the crowd but it's caught by Bulletproof Samaritan just in the nick of time.

 

Samaritan: (nods toward <UTF>) He fiddled with his knob and she got wood.

Ivy (wondering how her magic could have activated without her will): I will have to get to the root of this problem.

Hombre Panthera (pretending to be sick of the jokes): We should leaf it here.

<UTF> (supporting Hombre's suggestion): We should branch off at some point...

 

My girlfriend comes into the room wondering what all the laughing is about:

 

My GF (OOC): It took me a moment to twig, but I caught on.

I hope your supergroup didn't splinter over this incident.  

 

Because with some people puns go against the grain.

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Is this someone's strategy for getting good quotes? Post horrible puns until I come up with some quotes to break the chain?

 

More excerpts from the Shadowrun game. As previously stated, the runners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.

 
Dent: ork, rat shaman
No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer
Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist
Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic
Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems
Happy Jack (aliases include Jonathan Bridges): troll, combat, disguise, negotiator
Mr. Johnson: generic name used by/for secretive employers who hire shadowrunners
 
 
When Happy Jack meets with clients, he usually goes as one of his alternate identities: the distinguished Jonathan Bridges.
 
Mr. Johnson: "Thank you for meeting with me mister ..."
Jonathan Bridges: "It's my pleasure to be here, Mr. Johnson. I'm Mr. Bridges."
Mr. Johnson: "Mr. Bridges ... as in ..."
Jonathan Bridges: "If you're about to make some comment regarding bridges and trolls, I've heard it before."
 
 
The shadowrunners discuss how they're spending their latest windfall...
 
Audacity Jane: "I can't believe you just spent 10,000 nuyen on a suit. What a waste of money."
Happy Jack: "It's a high fashion suit with an armor lining. It's what the top executives wear."
Audacity Jane: "So what? It's not like you're going to sneak into a building dressed like a troll CEO on our runs. You're still going in dressed as a janitor or a maintenance man like usual."
 
A few weeks later, while Jonathan Bridges (aka Happy Jack) was negotiating with a different Mr. Johnson...
 
Mr. Johnson: "And I'm prepared to pay each member of your team 6,000 nuyen."
Jonathan Bridges: "6,000 nuyen? My suit costs more than that."
Mr. Johnson: "..."
 

Unsurprisingly, the pay got negotiated above 10,000 nuyen apiece.

 

 

Discussing equipment on hand...

 

Eye Spy: "Do you have any anti-vehicular grenades?"
Happy Jack: "Sure." (tosses a grenade to Eye Spy)
Eye Spy: "This is a paint grenade."
Happy Jack: "It's hard to drive or shoot when your windshield is covered with paint."
 
This led to the following conversation a few weeks later...
 
Byte Force: "What chemicals can I cook up for you today?"
Happy Jack: "Paint for grenades. I'd like something that works a bit better than what we already have."
Byte Force: "What are you looking to change?"
Happy Jack: "Could you mess with the viscosity and surface tension? I'd like it to stick better to vehicle  windshields. And if they run windshield wipers, I'd like that to just smear the paint around without clearing it off."
Byte Force: "Okay. That might be possible..."
Happy Jack: "And could you include something that has a bit of an exothermic reaction? It doesn't need to be too strong. Just push the temperature of the paint over body temperature so it blocks infrared and thermographic vision."
Byte Force: "Heh. That still won't help you much if the vehicle has radar."
Happy Jack: "I was just getting to that. Could you mix in tiny particles of metal in order to scatter radar beams?"
Byte Force: "****! Do you want the paint to yodel too, so it blocks sonar?"
(long pause)
Happy Jack: "That's a good idea ... but that might be a bit too much to expect from paint."
 
 
Needing no explanation...
 
Audacity Jane: "Of course dragons are at the top of the food chain. I can't eat that much."
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Back aboard the Chains of Judgement, using the wreckage of the Ardent Crown as cover as an Eldar cruiser attempts to carve both up. Among our prizes - several dead Eldar Warp Spider Aspect Warriors, who Jrska can no doubt find something amusing to do with; a live Farseer who she can CERTAINLY find something amusing to do with; and that mysterious casket the Eldar were carrying around, and that Cassius promptly announced as MINE. Aladar, who somehow survived his encounter with the Hunter last week, remains badly injured. Cog has injected him full of hypermeth and whatever other combat drugs Jrska can provide, which should make the subsequent starship battle interesting.

Cassius' player: Ah, 40K, the only game where you can take out the Holy Hand-grenade of Antioch, and read from the Book of Armaments, and be taken absolutely seriously.

Jrska: We'll leave the piloting to the expert systems. The ones that learned how to fly the ship by watching Aladar, and then was told 'see what Aladar does? Do anything but that.'

Jrska: So how many cultists are riding the missiles and waving cowboy hats?

Aladar's control of the laser batteries and missile barrages is startlingly deft. The Eldar cruiser should have vastly outclassed our little frigate.

Jrska: The gods favour us, my lord. Indeed, they favour Aladar. Their ways are ineffable and strange.

Unfortunately, our shots are so accurate we blow up their webway portal generator. The ensuing warp rift rapidly expands to consume all three ships.

Jrska: ohhhh, piss.

And Jrska fails to keep the crew under control.

Cassius: This is what you get for converting the crew to Slaanesh worship. They're all going "ooooh, pretty." Have you become the new Aladar?

The sudden wash of pure mutating hell-energy washing over the ship converts an unknown number of the crew into slavering, screaming warpspawn. That number is at least 3, since three of the bridge crew transform. Jrska draws her plasma pistol, despite the risk to the bridge controls.

Jrska: I know you warned us about backstop, my lord, but...
Cassius: This is where lasweapons come into their own - you don't have to worry about it penetrating the backstop.
Jrska: Or anything, really.

Cassius attempts to fry the spawn with warpfire.

GM: You'll hit about nine of the crew.
Cassius: Don't care. I know what kind of damage warpspawn can do.

The additional warp energy Cassius throws into the mix causes the consoles to sprout insane cog-work and metal tentacles.

Cassius: Cog is going to be busy doing repairs.
Cog: Ok, I'll fix it, but you have to tell Father you did it.

The worst thing about this that the Ardent Crown will no longer be colliding with the hiveworld Solace.

Jrska: We've inadvertently saved Solace. Perhaps this was the Eldar's plan all along.

Cassius detonates one of the spawn.

Cog: You should see him at parties - he once blew up a goat.
Cassius: As opposed to Jrska, where you just take away the word 'up'.

The former bridge crew member attacking Jrska seems a bit clumsy.

GM: If it was possible for a tentacle weapon to jam, it just did.
Jrska: It's a tentacle monster versus Jrska. I'm sure the tentacles are jammed *somewhere.*

We give up on trying to come alongside the Ardent Crown in warpspace, and re-emerge into the Materium. Happily, that's enough to nudge the Crown back into realspace as well, and it's back on course for a collision, four days later and only hours away.

Jrska: Imagine the scene down on the planet - 'The Inquisition has saved us from the Ardent Crown! Praise the Emperor!' Four days later 'Fuck, it's back!'

There are at least four system ships in orbit - they can be formidable, since they don't have to spare power or hull capacity to FTL engines, and can put it all into heavier armour and armament.

Cassius: Let's not broadcast 'The Inquisition has found you wanting'

The wreckage of the Ardent Crown slices deep into Solace's crust before it and its warp engine detonate, the ensuing fireball cracking the crust and spreading to engulf a good chunk of the western hemisphere.

Jrska: Just picture Jrska during all this - hive cities going up like magnesium flares, even against the background of magma - her leaning back in the sensor suite chair, naked with a glass of wine.

GM: One of the hive cities didn't get their void shields up in time - the wave of fire and warp energy scours half the arcology bare of life
Jrska: Ohhh, yeeeeeeeahhh *climax*

Cassius: Long term plan *sneezes*
GM: Interesting plan.
Cog: Nurgle would approve.

The actual plan is to leave some sigil of our passing scorched onto more intact landscape - to sign the work, as it were. But those system ships are, as mentioned, formidable. Also, something buried deep under the crust has been exposed by the gigantic impact - it looks artificial... Necrontyr seems likely. That, combined with a mutant uprising, would certainly match that prophesy we found on Voluptua.

Cassius: Let's get out of here.
Aladar: We're not staying around for the prophesy?
Jrska: Prophesy is fulfilled - we don't have to stay around for the massacre.

System Ship: You are not staying to render assistance, Lord Inquisitor?
Cassius: This is not an isolated incident.
Jrska: Tell them the Emperor's Angels of Death and the Imperial Guard are en route.
Cog: Give them hope XD
Jrska: 'They said help was on the way! They said!'
Cassius: Can you tell them that without giggling? Because I can't.

Cassius: 'LOL, they think they we're going to send help' - Not something you want to hear from an Inquisitorial ship.

Loot - a Psychic Hood (very useful to Cassius, especially when he's matching wits with the Farseer); a corrupted solid-slug pistol apparently dedicated to the Plaguelord; and some stranger items.

Jrska: We still have to interrogate the Farseer. She's going to be the guest of honour at a very special party, and I'm not talking about breaking out the religious accoutrements like the sandstone strap-on, oh no. Cog, honey, can you invent a drug that will enhance pleasurable sensations a few thousand times?

Jrska: I'll be sure to tell all my minions 'Now remember the Golden Rule, girls - treat others like you'd expect them to treat you'. Which sounds fine until you remember we're all Slaanesh cultists.

Cassius: My infamy is equivalent to a greater deamon.
Jrska: Well, yes.
Cassius: And to the enslaver of multiple worlds.
Jrska: Doom of Leman's Solace, my lord. And if they ever figure out that you were involved in this... *points at the wreckage of Solace*
Cassius: Word is getting out 'He's loose'
Solace Government: 'He's come back, arrgghhhh!'
Cog: 'No Solace for you, mortal'

Aladar's mutations are taking him further and further away from humanity - and from an appreciation of Jrska. 'Only the Warp pleases me now'.

Jrska: Am I pretty?
Aladar: It is of no consequence.
Jrska: Cog, could you pass me that spoon? Aladar clearly isn't using his eyes anymore.

But the Farseer and Aladar may have to wait - we've finally reached that alien psychic beacon, gaurded by Horus Heresy era space marines, that we heard about so long ago. Alarmingly, they still have working spaceships. This is going to be tricky...

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I hope your supergroup didn't splinter over this incident.  

 

Because with some people puns go against the grain.

 

 

Knot what I was expecting. Kinda sappy really.

 

Time to leaf and pun.

 

QM

 

 

This conversation is anything but wooden.

 

I beleaf there are too many punsters on the boards and they are all barking up the wrong tree. (quadruple-pun FTW! whoot!)

 

More fun with wooden puns:

 

http://www.irregularwebcomic.net/2299.html

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Roadtrip! Traveling to the Isle of Skye in order to find the missing elven decker Quicksilver. Why we're doing this is not entirely clear, since the person who was going to be paying us is dead, but we Shadowrunners are free spirits, unbeholden to the petty rules that govern society, and free to do any damn stupid thing that occurs to us.

Warhammer: We've been paid repeatedly for every other job we've done, we can cover one where we don't get paid at all.

Labrat arrives, delayed due to the fact his boat isn't rated from Seattle to London, especially since global warming apparently didn't happen in the Shadowrun universe and the Arctic Ocean is still, in fact, arctic. The bigger problem was all the giant underground brigadoons that suddenly appeared and that promptly filled up with seawater. And all those mined-out deposits that suddenly reappeared, along with their surrounding mountains.

Felix: Well, BHP-Billiton must have been pleased. The miners who were underground at the time, not so much.

Greenlight: Can we hire a crop-duster and spray the island with Agent Orange?
Felix: I don't think the druids will appreciate that, somehow.
Greenlight: That's the point

Labrat picks up a few toys en route.

GM: You meet up with a fixer named Angus McNab
Greenlight: So Scottish he secretes alcohol.

The involvement of druids - especially on their home turf, continues to make us nervous.

Inkubus: We're just going to go up there and see what the situation is.
Greenlight: Oh, thank f**k for that!
Inkubus: We're not going up there to piss in their cereal.

Labrat: So what's been happening?
Greenlight: We're in England now-
Felix: Scotland. Don't get them confused
Greenlight: We're in SCOTLAND now where everybody is drunk, eh-
Titus: That's Canada
Greenlight: WE'RE IN SCOTLAND NOW WHERE EVERYBODY IS DRUNK AND I KEEP GETTING INTERRUPTED-
Labrat: So I see
Greenlight: THE NEXT PERSON THAT INTERRUPTS ME GETS TASED IN THE FACE

Labrat: So you called me all the way from Seattle for a job where I won't get paid.
Greenlight: Yes. Mostly to f**k with you.

Plus, we can sing as we drive.

Warhammer: How about a drink-a-long?
Felix: If you really want to. 'If you need a job done that would land you in jail / Shadow-runrunrun, Shadow-runrun'
Warhammer: Rumrumrumrumrum, rumrumrumrum
Felix: 'As assets we're deniable in case we fail / Shadow-runrunrun, Shadow-runrun'
Warhammer: Rumrumrumrumrum, rumrumrumrum

There's a castle on the fair side of the loch, and a village on this side. Surveilling the fishing village while pretending to be birdwatchers -

Labrat: Nudist beach!
Inkubus: In Scotland?!
Felix: They don't even need the blue body paint.
Labrat: Oh wait, that's ice sculpture.

There is a circle where the druids from the isle hold a daily ritual.

Inkubus: Is anybody else wishing we had a mortar?

Greenlight: We so didn't bring enough firepower for this.
Warhammer: Uh-huh.
Felix: Who needs firepower, we have a troll.
Greenlight: You can't fire a troll long distances.
Felix: Labrat, you're an engineer, aren't you?

Labrat goes looking for the towns most disreputable fisherman.

GM: He's a grizzled old man-
Greenlight: "...but you f**k one fish!"

Whilst the anecdote about his various careers is no doubt fascinating, Labrat is actually after explosives.

Felix: I'm heading down to the quay early to scan the surface of the loch and beaches for birdlife. That is our cover story after all.
Labrat: And you've got that loched down.

They're also a small crowd of tourists here to see the druids.

Greenlight: Am I a bad person because I look at them and think 'meat shield'?

In fact, the way the whole castle-full-of-druids seems to be a tourist trap is a relief. Plus, there's no giant wicker man on the hill.

GM: The furry comes across the loch
Inkubus: Furry or Ferry?
Greenlight: Because if it's a furry I'm out of here
Inkubus: I want nothing to do with giant furries - it inevitable leads to vore.
Felix: Or insertion.
Labrat: Or both.
Greenlight: Alright, we'll go Attack on Titan for you.
Felix: 'In 2050 humanity received a grim reminder'
Titus: 'Then blew it up with C12.'

GM: Seven druids emerge and come across the grass towards the tourist bus
Labrat: I think they're all on the grass
Titus: There's Happy and Grumpy and...
Labrat: And Dopey is the leader
Labrat: Nah - he thinks he's in charge. It's actually the live-in maid.

Greenlight: Can I talk to Fiona, please?
Dwuid: Excuse me?
Greenlight: A friend of hers is in mortal danger.
Dwuid: That's... alarming news. I need to go talk to some people.
Inkubus: I think we need to go to the old rule - Greenlight doesn't get to talk to anybody until she gets over this 'honesty' thing.

Fiona: And what is your connection to Quicksilver?
Labrat: Merely to ensure he doesn't come to harm (which is true XD)

Quicksilver apparently left part of his lifeforce with Fiona. That on top of of the deck he left with Amelia is adding up to something alarming.

Inkubus: We think he's done something... very silly. Such as forcing his own reincarnation as a being of pure data.
Felix: He's basically been making horcruxes. I told you Harry Potter would be involved in this somehow.

None of us can figure out how Quicksilver managed this trick.

Felix: We're in a magical castle in Scotland.
Titus: Horcruxes.
Felix: Horcruxes.

Fiona will entrust Quicksilver's essence to the group in return for something commensurate from one of our mages.

Inkubus: Well....
Felix: You're at least closer to their tradition
Inkubus: Really? Really? I invoke the spirit of Metal!
Titus: *flips a coin and points at Inkubus*
GM: She wants to perform a ritual with you.
Inkubus: *tries to resist temptation*
Felix: *sigh*
Inkubus: What kind of ritual?
GM: Candles and shuffling around on the grass.
Warhammer and Greenlight: *snicker*

Inkubus: Am I going to to need protection? Because you hear stories.

GM: You're all invited to witness the ceremony
Greenlight: Oh my
Inkubus: It's not every day I have an audience. And you get to see what seven charisma looks like under the hood.

If the ritual is a busty there's still one way we can profit from this trip.

Inkubus: We can still sell his deck, right?

The ritual involves a dozen dwuids, various spirits, and a metric f**kton of power - the leyline through the area might have something to do with that. It also leaves Inkubus with the distinct impression of being repeatedly shot.

Fiona: I know he followed the ley to Loch Ness and met a presence there - I don't know what happened there.
Titus: We get to fight a plesiosaur! *high-fives Greenlight*

GM: You've got ten minutes til the last furry.
Greenlight: Gotta catch that giant wolf.
Felix: Wolf-fox. Herm wolf-fox.
GM: What?
Felix: You said furry instead of ferry again.
GM: *sigh*
Greenlight: Giant herm wolf-fox.
Inkubus: With wings. Part angel.
Titus: And a keyblade.
GM: And a pink and purple colour scheme. *sigh*

Quicksilver's horcrux is a black box sealed with wax and a silver clasp.

Titus: I was wrong - it's actually a phylactery.

Inkubus: Who wants to assense Quicksilver's box?
Warhammer: *snicker*

The box apparently contains something relieved that somebody has finally come for it. Inkubus speculates Quicksilver's mind is in the Matrix, his soul in the box, and his body bullet-riddled somewhere near the Loch. The box actually contains a very unconventional chip and a transponder inside a block of plascrete.

Greenlight: I think we've seen more innuendo in one square mile than I've seen in the whole of Seattle.

There's certainly a lot of mention of Elven Deck. But for now, off through the deep dark woods around Loch Ness.

Greenlight: We'll just follow the trail of rubbish left by earlier tourists.

The transponder and the chip's mystic glow leads us towards Castle Urquhart on the shore of the loch.

Inkubus: I feel so metal now I'm a glorified bloodhound.
Titus: Oh, I dunno, bloodhound sound pretty metal.

A Nature Spirit materialises in our path.

Nature Spirit: I know why you are here.
Felix: You're doing better than us then.
Greenlight: Yup.
Titus: Just stumbling blindly along after map points.

The spirit opens an astral gate and invites us through.

Inkubus: If what I thinking is going to happen, happens, we will learn things about each other
Warhammer: STAYING.

GM: Things are weird in the Astral
Inkubus: Shit be whack

The spirit wants us to perform a quest, if we still want the portion of Quicksilver it's guarding.

Felix: Let's just call it the third horcrux, shall we?

Greenlight: Will I get a magic sword?
Felix: If I reject the first offer will I get a better one?

We are promptly menaced by the Dweller on the Threshold.

Felix: The Antimatter Monster from Planet of Evil.
Inkubus: Ozzy Osbourne. 'What the f**k are you doing here?' The godfather of Metal.
Greenlight: 'Shaarrron! Who the f**k is this?'
Greenlight: Greg the Grim Reaper - "Alright, what the fuck do you lot want then? Oh, right, let me guess, you want to cross over. Oh, wonderful, like I haven't had to deal with this before. Magically active pricks, you think that just because you can magically assense means you've got the fucking right to cross over. Obnoxious shitheads."
GM: For Felix it probably looks like Zardoz
Felix: ?
Greenlight: Sean Connery in a mankini.
Warhammer: Now there is a mental image I didn't need

The dweller wants a confession from us before it will let us through.

Titus: I don't have any deep secrets
Labrat: You're just very shallow

Felix: *blushes bright red and mutters something inaudible*
Dweller: Speak up.
Felix: She was my cousin, alright? It was a family gathering. We wandered off over the hill...
Dweller: *transforms into Felix's grandad and royally chews him out*

Inkubus admits he kept a lock of Euphoria's hair, even before she was kidnapped.

Greenlight: What, not standard Shadowrunner paranoia?
Inkubus: No - she was the only innocent thing I've ever found in this life, OK?
Dweller: *transforms into Euphoria and expertly denounces Inkubus as a disgusting creep*

There are also Trials - reliving our most traumatic experiences. Inkubus re-enacts his horrible encounter with the deamon Twilight. Inkubus relives his encounter with the fire-demon Inkubus summoned.

Felix: *flees the burning factory, but this time making sure to kick the image of Inkubus repeatedly in the arse as we run, and re-emerges from the Trial gate on fire*
Inkubus: What happened to you?
Felix: *gives Inkubus a look that should make him burst into flame*

Luckily Warhammer and Titus are out in the real world to patch up the bullet-holes and stab-wounds our comatose bodies are sprouting.

Felix: Interesting thing about ganglions - they're the only medical condition that can be cured by literally hitting it with a book.
Greenlight: I like that wordplay - 'literally'

Inkubus relives the Dwuid ritual, but such is his own self-confidence that the danger touches him even less than it did the first time.

Inkubus: And in the real world I have an erection.
Titus: Not touching that one.
Felix: I'm not hitting it with a book.

Past and Present trials faced, we turn to the future. Felix is still annoyed at having to relive the factory.

Felix: Do we get to see what happens to Inkubus in the future?
Nature Spirit: It doesn't work like that.
Felix: F**k.
Inkubus: The same that happens every morning - I wake up surrounded by beautiful women.

Instead we all find ourselves in a limousine driving through Washington D.C., with a man with very blue eyes and an American flag lapel pin, who yells "What are you doing here?!" and then the car explodes.

We then find ourselves back in the Astral clearing, and staring at each other. For once, Felix's Conspiracy Theory hobby comes in handy.

Felix: What the f**k was that?
Greenlight: WHO the f**k was that?
Felix: ... I think that was a dragon.

Felix: We are never going to DC
Inkubus: Yeah. Right. You keep on believing that. We are going to DC. Just pray we can stay away from limousines.

Time to go back to Edinburgh, which will give Inkubus and Felix a chance to catch up on their social media, sad addicts that they are.

Inkubus: We'll catch the next bus
Greenlight: It's not for an hou-
Inkubus: WE'LL CATCH THE NEXT BUS

Back at Prof. Amelia's lab at the university where the extremely, almost impossibly advanced deck that Quicksilver used has slots for four custom chips - such as the two we've so far acquired at Skye and Castle Urquhart. It looks like we're going to have to stick our brains into the deck for some clue as to what to do next.

Felix: This is a bad idea - I've read Harry Potter, no good comes of messing with horcruxes.

And besides, none of us have datajacks. On the other hand, there are 'trode helmets.

Felix: And Edinburgh is part of Silicon Glen.

'trode-jacking in reveals the poorly resolved image of a slumped dead woman data-labelled Morag McDonald. This, presumably, is a clue. Warhammer manages to identify her via the death register and her tartan - apparently she was murdered the same day Quicksilver went missing. And that the fourteen homicides she was part of may reignite the murderous history of the Campbells and McDonalds. Certainly, the local authorities are very much afraid the McDonalds are plotting reprisals.

Titus: There's only way to end this feud
All: KILL THEM ALL
Inkubus: Or pick a side.
Titus: Or convince them both to meet a particular place to get the social XP, then betray them both for the combat experience.
Inkubus: But who we betray first depends on who doesn't have the hot daughter.

 

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From my Teen Champions game:

 

Nimisha: I hate when two crows get together. It's like attempted murder.

 

From the World Watchers game:

 

Nightstriker (having blew his roll to make his elixir which gives him his superpowers): Now I have to visit about a half-dozen places to get the damn ingredients again!

Israfil: (starts singing "Super Chicken" theme)


He will drink his super sauce
And throw the bad guys for a loss
And he will bring them in alive and kickin' (puk, puk, puk)
There is one thing you should learn
When there is no one else to turn to
Call for Super Chicken! (puk, puk, puk)
Call for Super Chicken! (puk ack!)

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/tvthemes/superchickenlyrics.html

 

Battle Royale on the Moon. Heroes teleport up to get a monolith to take back with them (yes, one of those monoliths) only to see a battle for the artifact already in progress. Space pirate/slavers vs. Earth supervillains vs. Oblivo-bots.

 

Spark, after an obese space pirate punctured her spacesuit with his 4-meter-long tongue :nonp: :

EW! You wanna taste of me, Fat Elvis? OK!

(Unleashes a pushed 28D Normal Energy blast which blows the guy across the lunar regolith into a trench of his own making, then she teleports back to earth with her suit depressurizing - good thing he had 15 ED and 25% Damage Reduction built in, or he'd be a smear on the Moon).

 

Reboot uses Cyberkinesis to seize control of the pirate ship's computer and takes control of its tractor beam, using it to fling several Oblivobots and a large, lizardlike pirate they are attacking into the next large crater over a kilometer away.

Merlin: Best hole-in-one since Alan Shepard!

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The shadowrunners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
 
Dent: ork, rat shaman
No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer
Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist
Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic
Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems
Happy Jack: troll, combat, disguise, negotiator
Humanis Policlub: a human-supremacist political group; some of the radical members have ties to Alamos 20,000
Alamos 20,000: a murderous anti-metahuman organization
Sons of Sauron: a ork-rights political group, which is often as violent as Humanis Policlub

 

Happy Jack returns from negotiating with a Mr. Johnson.

 

Happy Jack: "I have some bad news, and some good news."
Eye Spy: "I hate this game."
No Step: "I'll bite. What's the bad news."
Happy Jack: "The pay sucks for this job. Mr. Johnson's opening offer was 5,000 nuyen total. I was only able to talk him up to 8,000 nuyen."
Dent: "I assume the good news is this is some kind of 'karma' job where we feel good about ourselves afterwards?"
Happy Jack: "Mr. Johnson wants us to blow up a Humanis Policlub chapterhouse. The more destruction, the better."
Eye Spy: "Happy Jack wins. I feel good about this job already."
 
The team tries to figure out how to wreck the chapterhouse without damaging adjacent buildings.
 
Audacity Jane: "I'll put cutting charges on the interior structural supports. The interior of the building will collapse, and the rest will be unstable. They'll actually have to pay money to tear down the unstable sections before repairing it."
Byte Force: "I can also build the mother of all stink bombs. If all the furnishings smell horrible, it means they can't be reused or resold. They'll have to be written off at a loss."
Audacity Jane: "Hah. The demolition and reconstruction crews will charge hazard pay if it smells bad enough."
Happy Jack: "Maybe we can rupture a sewage line so the basement fills with black water."
Byte Force: "That makes my stink bomb redundant."
Happy Jack: "Not really. If your stink bomb smells bad enough, they won't notice the sewage until it's had a few days to fill the basement."
Dent: "There's something poetic about filling the *******'s building with ****."
 
The team researches the target.
 
Byte Force: "I have some bad news."
Eye Spy: "I hate this even more than good news/bad news."
Byte Force: "The building is so heavily insured that it will be nearly impossible to do enough damage to hurt Humanis."
No Step: "Something stinks about this job. I talked to my contact in Sons of Sauron. He says this chapter of Humanis keeps its hands clean. It's the main fundraiser. It does a lot of the politics and press releases. They even run a few charities. He's sure they channel money to the more radical and violent chapters, but they've never been caught doing it. Why does Mr. Johnson want this one blown up, instead of one of the violent chapters?"
Audacity Jane: "Happy Jack, you royally screwed up. I'm starting to feel uneasy about blowing up a Humanis chapterhouse. This is supposed to be a 'feel good' job."
 
More investigation ... more bad news.
 
Byte Force: "I'm officially declaring this job a set-up. That chapterhouse is filled with wireless cameras. I'm betting we're supposed to get caught while we're trying to blow the place up."
Happy Jack: "Yeah. I'm thinking we were hired by Humanis to blow the place up. It costs them nothing, then they use us as poster children for their next fundraising drive."
No Step: "Should we refuse the job and return the advance?"
Happy Jack: "No. If we do, Mr. Johnson will just hire some dumber orks and trolls to do the job anyway."
Dent: "Instead, we get to be the dumber orks and trolls who do the job."
Audacity Jane: "Even if I get in and out undetected, everyone's going to assume that metahumans blew the place up."
Happy Jack: "We just need to fabricate evidence that humans blew up the chapterhouse."
Dent: "Who is going to believe that?"
Happy Jack: "This is a chapterhouse of moderates, relatively speaking. There's a big downside to being a moderate. The radicals on your side hate you even more than they hate the guys on the other side."
No Step: "So we're supposed to show up looking like humans ... who just happen to be wearing their Alamos 20,000 name badges?"
Happy Jack: "We find a couple Alamos 20,000 members who have criminal records, but aren't locked up, and they become our new best friends."
Eye Spy: (spit-takes) "I'm sorry. My brain can't process 'Alamos 20,000' and 'new best friends' in the same sentence."
 
Humanis will certainly hide any evidence of human involvement, so the team sets up a dashboard camera to "catch them in the act," so the video can be leaked later.
 
No Step: "How are we going to conveniently arrange to have the camera get a good look at our faces? Dashboard cameras don't conveniently zoom in on faces."
Happy Jack: "Right before you two break into the chapterhouse, the two of you will assault an indigent troll right in front of our camera."
No Step: "So you'll be disguised as an indigent troll. But why wouldn't a troll just go all King Kong on a couple humans?"
Happy Jack: "Audacity Jane will point a shotgun at me, while you take a bunch of whacks with a club."
No Step: "Why do I have to be the one beating up on you? I'll already be straining just to hold up two illusions."
Happy Jack: "If you hit me repeatedly with a club, I'll have some bruises. If Audacity Jane hits me with a club, I'll have massive internal bleeding."
 
Eye Spy: "What happens if our scapegoats have alibis?"
Happy Jack: "I took care of that."
Eye Spy: "You kidnapped them?"
Happy Jack: "No. I called one of them and pretended to be part of Alamos 20,000 in Boston. I told them that we'd stolen data from the Sons of Sauron, and the group in Boston had just shipped a truckload of weapons to the Sons of Sauron in Seattle. While you're blowing up the Humanis chapter, our scapegoats will be waiting to rob a fictitious load of guns."
Happy Jack: (in a nasally voice) "I swear I didn't blow up a building detective! I was innocently sitting in a dark alley waiting to steal some guns!"
 
Dent: "We ought to set off an EMP grenade next to their servers while we're in there."
Byte Force: (wincing) "That's sacrilege. Data is meant to be stolen, not destroyed."
No Step: "He's right. You two go in invisibly, so Byte Force can steal all the information off their servers."
Byte Force: "Thank you."
No Step: "And then set off an EMP grenade next to the servers, so they can't figure out what you took."
 
As they're leaving (still covered by the Physical Mask spell), No Step spray paints SUNZ UV SAWRON RULZS on the wall of the chapterhouse.
 
Audacity Jane: (as they walk away) "What were you doing?"
No Step: "Making it look like we were trying to frame the Sons of Sauron for this."
Audacity Jane: "Nobody is going to believe that the Sons of Sauron misspelled their own name."
No Step: "Nobody?"
Audacity Jane: "Okay. Fine. Nobody except a stupid and ignorant racist is going to believe they'd misspell their own name."
No Step: "And who are we impersonating right now...?"
 
After the building is blown up and the video is posted online and leaked to the media....
 
Byte Force: "The only useful Humanis data I got was a list of donors."
Happy Jack: "Some of those donors may work for metahuman-friendly corps like Saeder Krupp. I bet Humanis membership is a violation of corporate policy."
No Step: "Get them fired?"
Happy Jack: "Blackmail them."
Dent: "It's about time you figured out how to get some money out of this mess."
Happy Jack: "We completed the job. I still expect to get paid by Mr. Johnson too."
Dent: "He's a Humanis member who tried to set us up. He doesn't want to pay us."
Happy Jack: "Of course not, but he'll show up to the meeting, if only to get the chance to kill me."
 
Mr. Johnson arrives at the club with an entourage of bodyguards. His group also contains a fearsome number of mercenaries, street samurai and mages, who remain stationed a distance from the club.
 
As Mr. Johnson waits at a secluded table...
 
Bartender: (carrying a tray with a glass of champagne and a cell phone) "Mr. Johnson? A patron purchased this for you. I believe he was unable to wait for your arrival."
Mr. Johnson: (picking up the phone) "I was expecting to see you here."
Happy Jack: "I'm reasonably certain that I'd be killed before I got within two blocks of the club."
Mr. Johnson: "..."
Happy Jack: "But I've called in order to make arrangements for the remainder of our pay."
Mr. Johnson: "I'm not pleased with the way the job turned out."
Happy Jack: "The building was redecorated, just as you requested. Based on the tone of your voice, I would say that we exceeded your expectations."
Mr. Johnson: "..."
Happy Jack: "Obviously, some of your expectations were not met. If you wanted us to take the fall, you should have requested the service up front. We would have increased the price accordingly."
Mr. Johnson: "There's no reason for me to pay you."
Happy Jack: "Professional courtesy."
Mr. Johnson: (snorts)
Happy Jack: "As professionals, we keep silent about the activities of our paying clients. The key word is 'paying' clients. We do not extend the same courtesy to clients who stiff us. I'm sure a lot of people would feel quite betrayed by your activities."
Mr. Johnson: (snarling) "Fine."
Happy Jack: "In addition, the price has doubled. That's the surcharge for trying to kill us."
Mr. Johnson: "Fine."
Happy Jack: "And as a final matter, you need to be aware of the life insurance for me and my coworkers."
Mr. Johnson: "Life insurance?"
Happy Jack: "If any of us die, your comrades will receive a video. I'm sure you would find it awkward to explain."
Mr. Johnson: "You're a shadowrunner. What happens if one of your other enemies kills you?"
Happy Jack: "The video gets delivered, as promised. You might want to use that champagne to wish us all a very long life."
 

 

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Inkubus: One of the so-far rare Metal Mages – an elven charmer, hedonist and mage with a interest in Shadowruns and beautiful women and excellent booze.
Felix 'Bubbles' Bethke: A minor scion of Aztechnology corporate royalty, who was working as a security mage for that company when he got put on permanent leave. He has no idea why, and is only Shadowrunning in order to build up a better stock portfolio and supplement his trust fund. Like his housemate Inkubus, loves good food.
Warhammer: Dwarven ex-military sniper.
Labrat: Ork rigger and engineer. Still a member of the Cascade Orc tribe, but somewhat estranged.
Titus: Troll hydroponic gardener, accountant, and muscle. Hobbies include demolition and collecting housemates.
Greenlight: Team's good luck charm and bitzer - actually a teenaged girl whose entire family were rounded up by Renraku corp security. Hobbies include the innovative application of stun batons, and crossdressing.

It appears we're going to get involved in the violence between the Campbells and the McDonalds.

Titus: I think it was a feud between the soup people and the fast food people
Greenlight: 'You're not going to marry him!' ' But Dad, I'm so sick of soup!' 'You eat it with a SPOOOO-hack coughchoke' Sorry, choked on my own accent.

Perhaps we can use ritual tracking to find the remain Quicksilver chips? Pity none of us wanted to risk bringing the materials into the country.

Titus: What would ritual materials for a metal mage be, anyway?
Inkubus: Hookers and blow.

Felix has a number of deficiencies as a mage.

Inkubus: You'll be assisting me – because I don't have an intuition otherwise reserved for lemmings.

Felix and Inkubus do learn that one of the chips is probably in the McDonald castle.

Felix: Do we need to recruit the Hamburglar?
Greenlight: Why?
Felix: He's always stealing things from McDonalds.

And the last horcrux is at Transys-Neuronet, Quicksilver's employers, and who may have our client killed after he was caught snooping in their datasystems at our behest.

Inkubus: You know, the more I suspect we got our Johnson killed, the more I get this strange feeling..
Felix: Starts with a G...
Inkubus: It's a twisty, empty sort of feeling..
Greenlight: Indigestion?
Inkubus: That's it.

Felix: Did you know there's good evidence that magic doesn't exist?
Inkubus: Reeeealy?
Felix: Yup. It's all the result of a pervasive nanotech web permeating the biosphere.
Inkubus: So when we're astrally projecting we're really jacking into a nanotech Matrix?
Felix: Straight into our sensoria. It was all installed by aliens, reshaping the world into something that amuses them. They'd have to be 'magically powerful', and highly territorial.
Inkubus: That... makes a lot of sense. I for one welcome our new alien overlord.
Felix: Yup. And it would explain why one of the old Mars probes photographed a dragon's skeleton.

The group are now starting to think we should drop the case and go home. Trying to storm the 118th floor of a corp that makes combat cyberwear – especially when we aren't being paid – seems likea really really bad idea. Then Felix gets an email, from a Transys server, from one Tsangara.

Felix: How did they get this email?
Inkubus: I swear I'm going to destroy that pocket secretary
Felix: This is the new one
Inkubus: Oh god.
Titus: Did you clone your address book into this or something?
Felix: Well, I have been checking my social media...
Inkubus: headdesk

Tsangara congrats us on digging this deep, and says he has the fourth chip.

Felix: Is Tsangara a female name? If Quicksilver gave them the chip, it would fit the pattern.
GM: No.
Felix: Hmm. Obviously he was bi.

They want to meet, that evening, at a bus stop near Transys. Bubbles and Greenlight, with the others watching from their truck up the street.

Greenlight: Feel free to run over anybody that causes trouble.
Felix: It is a rental though
Warhammer: I wasn't intending on paying for it anyway.

Tsangara even knows Felix's real name. Frantic hand signals behind Felix's back ensue.

Felix: For the benefit of any recording devices within earshot, I have no idea what you're talking about.
Tsangara offers to pay us very generously - 250K each - for the other three chips, and the deck, and offers us info on how to recover the third chip. Felix gives the waiting truck a thumbs up.
Felix: That would be a extremely generous offer sir, if I had any idea who you are, what you're talking about, or who I am. I know nothing!

Tsangara claims involvement in the creation of the chips, but Quicksilver did something naughty. Nonetheless, he intends to reslot all the chips if recovered, just like we were doing. We just have to recover the one currently held at the McDonald clan seat first.

Felix: 'Have fun storming the castle.'

Greenlight: Please tell me they have knights.
Titus: They have highlanders.
Felix: In that case there can be only one.
Inkubus: Does that make me the Kurgan? Because I don't want to die like a bitch.

Greenlight: We've only met one person in Scotland with a bladed weapon so far. I demand a refund.

Inkubus goes hunting for Lydia McDonald, scion of the clan, and someone he can hopefully seduce to get us into the castle.

Inkubus: I can't believe this is our plan.
Titus: It is our default by now. Find out if an attractive woman is involved, then aim Inkubus at her.

Off to the McDonald stronghold at Glencoe, and the local bar – Old McDonalds - where Lydia has been tweeting her drunken mourning about the recent massacre – Morag was, after all, her sister.

Felix: Can I get that in a clean glass?
Barman: spit – polish There you go - the alcohol will deal with the rest.
Inkubus: casts Sterilize
Barman: Do ya want that in a combo meal? *schooner and shot glass* Which one of you is the designated driver?
Inkubus: *points at Felix* Can't you tell?
Barman: Right – you got water, or you got milk. And if you're really deviant we got orange cordial.
Inkubus: I may retire here.

Inkubus buys a round of drinks for himself, Lydia, and her bodyguards, before heading over to her able. The bodyguards get the cordial.

Inkubus' player: You don't play with seven players. Unless it's Deadlands.
Greenlight's player: Or a samurai game.
Felix's player: ?
Inkubus' player: Magnificent Seven.
Greenlight's player: It's traditional.

Greenlight: Why are we even bothering? If Inkubus is involved of course it's going to end up with the two of them in bed. The D intensifies.
Titus: I wonder if in One Piece, that's what they mean by 'the Will of the D'?

Felix's suggestion that Inkubus satisfy Lydia so completely that she remains passed out for hours is a good one – because once he's inside the castle's magical words magically tracking the third horcrux will be MUCH easier. On the other hand, while astrally projecting he also runs into Morag's ghost.

Inkubus: And I just banged her sister. Um....... hi?
Greenlight: Sleep with her too XD
Inkubus: Damn you for suggesting that *rolls to resist temptation*

Morag's ghost goes Ghostbuster's Librarian, when Inkubus admits he's after the third chip.

Morag's Ghost: NO! YOU WILL NOT TAKE QUICKSILVER AWAY FROM ME!
Inkubus: Quicksilver is neither dead nor alive right now. This will resolve it one way or the other. And if he lives, you will just have to wait. Leave him like this and you will wait forever.

Morag's Ghost: Quicksilver and I are bound in ways you cannot understand.
Felix: And you even have the Kama Sutra pop-up book.
Inkubus: I believe it, and I can't believe I believe it.

Morag agrees to let Inkubus take the chip hidden in her bedroom, on the condition she gets to come along. Sneaking the chip through the castle is going to need the assistance of a summoned Hearth spirit, however. Happily, since the family aren't going to like Lydia' elven boytoy, Inkubus has a good excuse to leave the castle before dawn. Lydia is even mostly over her mourning, and thanks him for his services earlier.

GM: And thank you for once again totally bypassing the combat elements of the module.

GM: You head back to Edinburgh followed by a very pretty ghost.
Greenlight: Did you f**k her so hard you killed her?
Inkubus: No, this is Morag. You know, her sister.
Greenlight: 8-( Are you going to leave half of Scotland pregnant, including the undead?
Inkubus: I wouldn't rule it out.

Inkubus' player: I'm a little disturbed by how many problems get solved with Inkubus's penis.

Tsangara wants to install the last few chips somewhere secure. The 118th floor of the Transys-Neuronet sounds good. To him. Not so much to the paranoid Felix. Especially because it's their R&D level. Plus, Tsangara has no trouble seeing or recognising Morag's ghost.

Quicksilver's matrix avatar materialises. In the Astral. This is extremely odd. He then takes Tsangara shoulders in his hands.

Quicksilver's Spirit: I need you.
Felix: Told you he was bi.
Inkubus: I think I just found three chances for consolation sex – all his girlfriends.
Quicksilver's Spirit: I need you to help me pass on to the next turn of the wheel.

Greenlight: Everyone is chasing the elven deck.
Inkubus: We did that last time.
Greenlight: Just running the joke into the ground.

Quicksilver unpacks all his mental and spiritual aspects, and somehow shares his with Tsangara, Labrat and Morag.

Felix: How the f**k is he doing this?
Inkubus: Magic so advanced it's indistinguishable from technology.

Quicksilver's life, flashing before Labrat's eyes, is very very very long.

Inkubus OOC: Never tell Felix about this – he'll never shut up about it. One of the conspiracy theories that no-one believes is the one about immortal elves.

Quicksilver's arcanotech reincarnation is just winding up when helicopter gunship fire blows in all the windows, Special Forces troops rappel in, and Tsangara drops his magical facade and is revealed as the Great Dragon Celedyr. Now is the time to lose control of our sphincters. Or clench like we've never clenched before.

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