Secret Wars Campaign Log

[Ragnarok]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

A mysterious man in a trenchcoat, slipping through the night as invisible as the breeze.

 

A blooded, shaken man, running along city streets, saddened by a loss of a valued one.

 

A snarling beast of a man, bruised and bleeding, red eyes blazing, dragging his broken prey along the dockside...

[torchwolf]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

This is one of those campaigns that deserves to be written down and these are also

Really. Good. Descriptions.

 

It reads like a script, and the GM Notes are well-considered.

 

From what I've heard, the next installment will be pretty intense.

[Kristopher]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

The public is demanding another update.

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

It's halfway done!

[Ragnarok]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

*poke*

[Manic Typist]

Session 4: Errand Boys

 

Darius’s cheek reveals a nasty gash and he winces as a pistol is shoved against his neck. The man holding the pistol angrily shouts at someone offscreen to shut up, while Cypher keeps a knife firmly pressed to the man’s throat, ignoring the pistol pointed directly at his own head. Jack kneels on the ground several meteres away with his hands on his head as two armed men cover him. Jack laughs maniacally as the two thugs nervously circle him, and the two suited men yell at Cypher and Jack to cooperate or Darius dies. Bodies litter the warehouse floor, and the room reeks of spent gunpowder. Tensions continue to escalate as the man’s finger tightens on the trigger, pushing it closer to the breakpoint which holds the hammer back from slamming the firing pin into the chambered round…

 

Earlier that day:

 

Darius pulls up in his wood paneled station wagon and parks about a block away from the Choy Sing tong’s hall. He and Jack exit the car with sound of the car doors shutting providing the only commentary as they walk to the main entrance, where they are met by Cypher. The building is obviously under extensive repairs, and they can see at least part of each of the three floors through torn out section of the front corner of the building, through which they are entering. They maneuver past the construction barrier blocking the sidewalk area immediately around the front doorway and proceed inside. Taking a quick look around, they take in the smell of sawdust, the scream of buzzsaws and clammering of hammers, and the organized chaos as a crew of entirely Asian construction workers works to restore the reception hall and bar area that makes up the first floor. They spot the foreman giving directions to his men while gesturing at schematics laid out on an improvised table. As they approach, one of the workers gestures to them and the foreman turns to see them.

 

“What you want? Are you with city inspectors? You not allowed in here!”

 

After they explain that they aren’t with the city, and that they are here to “do business” with the owner of the building, the foreman insists once more that they leave. Eventually, Cypher interrupts their attempts to talk their way past the man and steps forward.

 

“The room is too small,” he states simply in Mandarin.

 

The foreman immediately stops talking, turns and gives a few curt instructions to his workers, and leads the group up a flight of lavish stairs to the second level (GM’s note: I told Cypher to make a Tradecraft: Spy roll, and he made it). He indicates they should wait while he passes through a set of double doors. In a few minutes he comes back through and walks back downstairs without even looking at them, and before the double doors are done swinging shut another man enters the foyer. Buzzed hair, jeans, white t-shirt, and a deep green leather jacket set him apart from anyone they’ve seen previously. Assessing them, he asks “What the f*&k do you want?”

 

They introduce themselves and explain that they have information regarding who blew up the front of the building, and have a mutually beneficial proposition. He leads them through the doors but has them stop immediately on the other side where, after handing over their weapons (a pistol is the only thing of note), they are searched.

 

Jackie Duck insists that Cypher remove his mask, stating “We don’t do business with people who can see our face but we can’t see theirs.” Cue a shot from behind Cypher’s shoulder, revealing lower two thirds of his head and Jackie Duck’s face, waiting. Cypher briefly pulls his mask aside, showing Jackie Duck his face. The Tong’s expression flashes to a vague sense of puzzlement, and says only “Huh.” Cypher then places the mask back over his face.

 

While this is going on, they are able to appreciate the very nice restaurant, with deep red carpeting and elegant wooden tables and booths at which a number of men sit, eating, playing mah jong, or reading the paper. These men are obviously Tongs by their rough appearance, calculating gazes, and the occasional flash of holstered weapons.

 

The group is seated at a table, and eventually a man comes over and joins them. He introduces himself as Han Fei (the Tong street secretary), and asks them to explain the nature of their visit (after asking if they are cops, of course). The characters state that they have information about one Saltpeter Mary, who their sources tell them is responsible for the bombing, and offer to deal with the problem for the right price.

 

“And who are your sources that you know this and we don’t?”

 

“Darius here is our source. He is very good at finding things,” begins Cypher.

 

“…and we take care of the things he finds.” finishes Jack.

 

“And how do I know that you’re people I should take seriously? That you’re capable? I’m not about to waste my money.”

 

Jack explains that they’re the ones who performed the Shadow Tiger hit a few weeks ago. Han Fei isn’t impressed, but he acknowledges that (if that is true) then they at least have potential.

 

Han Fei proposes a test: they do a small job to prove their mettle, and then they’ll talk details about Saltpeter Mary. Apparently there’s an international group of smugglers (Armenians, Turks, and Balkans) moving H through Little Italy that have been a nuisance to the Tong lately. Hit them, and all is well. No survivors, no witnesses. The group agrees, and Han Fei tells them to come back at 10 P.M. to pick up an observer who will guide them to the smugglers’ central staging area.

 

They return that night geared up for a fight (after visiting the arms dealer for some additional ammo) to find a man waiting on the sidewalk for him. He introduces himself as Chan, and tells them to head for Bayside. The ride is mostly quiet, and the observer has little additional information to give them. Ten to twelve smugglers, no information on armament, warehouse 373.

 

Darius stops the car a few blocks away from the warehouse, and Jack, Cypher, and chan get out. Jack suddenly remembers that he could improvise a silencer for his assault rifle, and sends Darius to a Quik-store they passed just recently. Meanwhile, he slips into an alley and climbs to the roof of a building while Cypher stalks the fenced perimeter of the warehouse (topped by barbed wire).

 

Darius returns with a bottle of Pepsi (not Coke, like he was instructed!), a bag of popcorn kernels, and a Snickers bar (for himself). As he gets out of the car, Jack leaps down from above without any warning, landing on the sidewalk in front of Darius (who is more than a little startled at this sudden, intimidating appearance).

 

“Stop doing that! You’re worse than Cypher…”

 

Jack drains the soda, fills it with popcorn kernels, and tapes it over the muzzle of his rifle.

 

After tossing Darius over the fence, Jack moves to the roof of the warehouse where he finds a simple trapdoor access into the building. Darius takes up position near the front corner of the warehouse, where two men stand guard over the loading bay area. Cypher sets up where he can cover a side entrance as well as the rear (GM’s note: the warehouse is a simple slightly rectangular building set within a fenced in lot with a rolling gate at the “back” which provides access for vehicles as well as people).

 

Jack eases open the rooftop door and leans down to examine the setting below:

 

An upper mesh walkway that divides sole, main area into four quadrants, and below that (parked more or less in each quadrant) a four plain vans, each facing towards the loading bay doors. A small mini-office is set against the back wall, near the entrance that Cypher is covering. Four men are visible: two are moving things around in the back of the “top right” van while two more are working on the engine of the van in the “bottom left” van. A ladder leads down from where Jack is stationed to the center of the walkway grid.

 

Cue camera shot: From a low position looking upwards we see a close up of the faces of the two men working on the engine. The hood and the white blur of the van’s chasis help enclose the space in front of the men’s faces, which reveals the ladder high in the background behind them. Jack moves down the ladder slowly, appearing from behind the upraised hood and disappearing behind a man’s head.

 

Jack moves towards the front area of the building (where the loading bay doors are) and maneuvers over the railing so that he is balancing on the other side of it, with nothing between him and the wall except the air and a forty foot drop. He spreads his arms to the side and leans out, forward, camera tilting and following from the side as he falls…and then comes to a sudden halt, using his preternatural grip to grab onto the wall while bracing his feet on the edge of the walkway. He easily hops onto the wall from there, and climbs down to the floor like something from a horror film.

 

Jack sneaks over to the top right van and makes an indistinct noise with a tire iron, and one of the men loading up the van comes over to investigate. Jack sucker punches him and then wraps his arm around the man’s neck, squeezing. Camera shot: body shot of Jack struggling with the man, the white van and its metal grill filling the frame behind him. The Turk kicks his feet, pulls, and shoves with all his might but it hardly budges the tattooed Jack. The smuggler actually manages smash his fist into Jack’s face, just above his eyebrow, but Jack just silently snarls and squeezes tighter. With a muted cracking noise, the man suddenly stops moving and goes limp. Jack lures the next man over and makes even shorter work of him, and both bodies are stuffed under the van, and then moves to take cover behind the top left van so that he can move closer to the next pair, who are working on the engine.

 

Jack glances around the van to see the backs of the two men as they fiddle with various engine parts, and then decides to crawl under the van to move closer to him… where he comes face to face with another smuggler, who promptly whacks him in the face (not the face again!) with a wrench, before Jack manages to quickly muffle the man, permanently (GM’s note: slightly hilarious moment for me, since that guy had been working on the undercarriage of the van and seen someone’s feet creeping around, so he was going to sneak up behind him and club Jack from behind. Never got the chance, but the face to face bit was pretty amusing).

 

The two men working on the engine stop working and turn, curious as to the vague scuffling noise they heard. They walk over to the van under which Jack is hiding, and walk around it. As the second man comes around the front of the van, Jack slips up behind him and wraps his arm around his neck. The first man only has enough time to turn in confusion at the grunting sound he heard before Jack slings his rifle around and with a soft rattle puts a round into the man’s chest. Disposing of the held man, Jack shoves leaves three bodies under the van.

 

Meanwhile, Darius moves further away from the front corner of the building as two black sedans pull up to the rolling gate, and one of the Armenians rolls the gate open for them and closes it as they slowly pull in with the gentle hiss of tires over blacktop. He can hear multiple car doors opening and shutting, and the vague noises of a conversation taking place between several men.

 

By this time Jack has crawled up the wall near the back office, which is convenient since the office door opens and eight men stride out, two of them dressed in casual suits (minus the ties). Jack begins to descend to move up behind them but freezes as one of the smugglers suddenly turns back towards the office, patting at his pockets.

 

Jack follows the man into the office and with a quick slash silently removes another threat, and then he sends a text message to his allies: “Let’s sweep the place” (GM’s note: of course, everyone’s phone is on silent, so it’s a matter of whether they’ll check their phone or hear gunshots first). Around this time three men are coming back into the warehouse from the backdoor (they’d stepped outside for a smoke break, under the careful watch of Cypher) and are moving towards the same van (front right) as the others. Jack kills the lights in the office, sets himself up in the doorway, and with two rapid squeezes of the trigger shoots the last two men in the head. The man walking in front of them is startled when he is suddenly pelted with brains and bone, turns, and begins yelling. Muffled gunshots and muzzle flare gives away Jack’s position as he opens fire again and the smugglers begin to return fire. The next few seconds are chaotic as Cypher opens fire from his concealed position among the crates (how did he get there? He’s a sneaky bastard, that’s how!), and the various smugglers begin dropping in rapid succession. One of Cypher’s rounds takes the closest thug (the one decorated by the brains of his companions) in the stomach, who is finished promptly finished off with a quick shot to the head as Jack moves up to take cover behind a van. While leaning out to take a shot, Jack is hit in the shoulder by enemy fire, but the vest thankfully manages to catch the bullet and ensure that Jack will merely have wicked bruises rather than a potentially life threatening wound (GM’s note: the player originally rolled an 18 on the armor’s activation roll, and wisely used a chit to reroll).

 

At the sound of gunshots, the men outside (two Turks waiting at the front door plus the two men who’d driven up in black sedans) become alarmed and the two guards rush in through the door to investigate while the other men remain outside to cover the front. As the battle escalates, one of the original suited men who came out of the office approaches the front door…only to have a squirrel suddenly land on him from above and gives him a painful electric shock. Cursing, he recovers and upon seeing the squirrel, aims his pistol at it. The last thing Darius sees through the feed from WRAS is the Italian staring at the camera over the top of the muzzle filling the view, and a bright flash immediately followed by static.

 

Darius leans around the outside corner and snaps off a shot with his pistol, which takes one of the newly arrived drivers in his offhand. The man loudly yells “Oh, gawd, Tony! Someone shot me! That f*$%er shot my hand!”

 

“Quit you’re b**ching and deal with, Mikey!”

 

Before poor Mikey can follow these instructions, Darius again leans around the corner and shoots him in the same arm as the hand. Cursing, Tony turns to the collared man who just stepped outside (the man who just shot WRAS, one of the original suits) and says “Louie, help me deal with this prick.” The two men rush to the corner where Darius is hiding, and Darius falls back a few feet and hurriedly lets off another round as the men turn the corner… taking Tony in the knee. The two men return fire, and one of the bullets hits Darius but is fortunately stopped by his concealed (and highly advanced body armor)(GM’s note: I think Darius was hit in the knee, which is somewhat ironic. I’m not sure what the player’s plan was in that situation in general). One of the mafiosos yells at Darius to drop his gun, and Darius immediately complies (GM’s note: I was pleasantly surprised). The two men roughly grab a hold of Darius and Tony pistols whips him across the cheek, puts a gun to his head, and they all proceed back to the warehouse door.

 

Inside the warehouse the firefight wages on. From around the corner of the van Jack snaps off two more expert shots, each one downing an enemy. Unfortunately his rifle jams, so he slings it behind his back and pulls out his pistol to continue the fight. Cypher moves up along the far vans to flank as Jack roadie runs diagonally across (towards Cypher) to take cover behind the front left van, but he is clipped on his upper right arm (the weapon arm!) by enemy pistol fire. Cypher arrives at the position just after Jack, and hears him cursing “Bloody hell! F**k!” not in reaction to the pain of the wound but rather to the knowledge that his aim could be impaired by the injury (-2OCV). Cypher lets off several bursts, hitting one of the Italian suits in the stomach and arm, which knocks him back against the opposite van, and downs one of the newly arrived reinforcements with a bullet in each shoulder as the man rushes forward.

 

Around this point, the two mafiosos (the one holding Darius is limping) enter the warehouse with Darius, yelling “Stop! Throw down your guns or your friend gets it!”

 

Jack grimaces but stays hidden behind his van… until one of the Turks yells out “There’s two behind that van!” He tosses out his assault rifle (which is jammed) and sets the pistol (where it is fairly easy to reach but not visible) on the bumper of the van as he steps around the corner into their field of vision. Cypher disappears as Jack, following instructions, falls to his knees and is disarmed by the two remaining Turks.

 

Jack tries to convince the men to flee, citing the men he’s already killed and offering to let the men live if they just walk away (a lie of course). The mafioso aren’t intimidated (after all, the man’s disarmed, kneeling, thoroughly covered, and they have a hostage). Tony smashes Darius in the face and yells “Listen you punk! You aren’t the one to be making offers or demands. We’re in the advantageous posis..” He’s interrupted by the sudden appearance of Cypher, who presses a knife to the Italian mobster’s throat.

 

“Let’s not be hasty now.” The smile slips through his mask, carried by his words. Louie lets out a “What the…?” and quickly turns and points his pistol at Cypher’s masked face. The equation has changed somewhat: there are more bodies at the end, but it still results in three dead vigilantes and the criminals walking away.

 

Jack begins to laugh like a madman while Tony yells at him to shut up, and the tension in the room continues to escalate towards a bloodbath.

 

Darius’s eyes widen as WRAS’s feed suddenly comes back online, and she’s right underfoot. Thinking quickly, he activates her patented (actually, it might be patented. Probably not though) shrieking feature, which explodes into the heads of Darius, Cypher, and the mobsters like two trains colliding. The two smugglers whirl in confusion to see the group with hands over ears…which is all the opportunity that Jack needs. Jack quickly knifes his hand into the nearest thug’s wrist, sending his pistol flying as Jack rises to his feet and sweeps the man’s legs out from beneath him in one fluid motion. Before the second man can fully turn back around Jack has already closed the distance. He grabs the man’s hand and with a swift upward motion jerks the hand high into the air, upsetting the man’s balance so that he too falls, leaving his weapon in Jack’s hand.

 

Jack lines up the pistol on Tony, staring down the length of it. Darius and Tony struggle together, Darius partly blocking Jack’s shot. Just a few inches separate hitting Tony or Darius. Jack lets out his breath.

 

Who dares, wins.

 

Slow motion: the chamber explodes, and a golden bullet comes spiraling out of the muzzle. It soars over a tool covered table, drawing closer to the struggling pair. A few feet away, time suddenly returns to normal and the bullet snaps forward, slamming into the chest right over the heart…of Tony. The mobster crumples to the ground. Everyone tries to gather their senses as Jack vaults the table and closes the gap between him and Louie so that he can take another shot without risking his teammates lives. He slides the last few feet towards as he plants his feet and lowers the gun towards Louie’s head…

 

At the last second, Darius spots Jack and yells out “Try to take him alive!” Reacting quickly, Jack manages to convert his remaining momentum back into a run, and he slams into Louie, carrying him full tilt into a wall. Louie’s head cracks against the cement wall, knocking him deep into la-la land.

 

Jack turns, snarling, to see the far doors starting to swing shut as the two smugglers he’d disarmed run for their lives. He sprints after them, inhumanly fast, his movements more resembling a monster in a Romero flick than a normal person. He crosses the warehouse in the blink of an eye, and slams through the doors before they’re fully shut. A curt blow sends the first man sprawling, and the second man is ripped from the chain link fence before he can do more than jump on it. Jack gruesomely executes each with a curbstomp.

 

Meanwhile, Cypher calmly steps through the front door onto the loading bay to deal with the thug that Darius had wounded earlier (he’d been inside earlier and told to start the car, during the standoff). The man is just getting the key into the ignition when he feels a shadow cast across him… Cypher, backlit by the dingy light above the doorway. His eyes widen in panic, and a series of coughs and sharp cracking noises interrupt any sound he can make as glass kicks off the windshield in a spray of crystalline dust. He slumps back against the seat, blood seeping from three bulletholes. Cypher lowers his P90 and slowly turns his head to ensure that no one else is around. He pokes his head back through the doorway to make sure everything is ok, and then proceeds to search the trunks of the cars where he finds two spare tires and not much else (GM’s note: oh, if only he’d passed his PER roll by one more… easier life for me I suppose!).

 

Jack searches the back of the van that the smugglers had been loading up, and finds four large bricks of heroin. By the time he is done looting pistols and securing Louie, Darius has retrieved his pistol and is beginning to soak strips of cloth torn from the dead bodies with oil. He shoves them into the gas tanks of each van and lights them on fire, and wisely runs out the door to where Jack waits. Without pretext Jack grabs the man and tosses him over the fence, and does the same with Louie, and then he easily leaps over it himself. Cypher tells them he’ll meet them later, and disappears.

 

The two men (well, three if you count Jack’s luggage) are most of the way back to the car when they hear several muffled *WHUMP* sounds followed by an incredible explosion of glass and fire, and the warehouse begins to burn like a bonfire. As they are loading Louie in the back of the station wagon, Chan walks up and without a word gets in the backseat. They are gone before the sirens even begin to sound.

 

 

 

Note: I'm tired, it's early in the morning. Let me know if you spot typos and I'll fix them. GM reflections later!

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

*poke*

 

Oh, and my poke back was BIGGER THAN YOUR POKE.

[Terenac]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

Awesome session, sounds like you guys had a lot of great moments.

[Ian Mackinder]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

Great stuff!

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I won't lie, I was a little freaked out during the Mexican Standoff.

 

"How are they going to get out of this???"

[Ragnarok]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

The $400,000 sitting in the spare tires haunts me still...

[Terenac]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I'm curious, from the description it sounded like the mechanical squirrel was pretty thoroughly taken out. Was it just stunned?

[Ragnarok]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I do know that WRAS only had 1 BODY left after the gunshot, which probably meant it was stunned (gone offline? can machines be stunned?).

[Terenac]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I do know that WRAS only had 1 BODY left after the gunshot' date=' which probably meant it was stunned (gone offline? can machines be stunned?).[/quote']

 

It depends on how it was built. I know that there are powers in the rules for Automatons for Takes No Stun and Cannot Be Stunned. It depends on what the final write-up was.

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

WRAS was not built with the Takes No Stun or the Cannot Be Stunned Features, so it's a robot, but it does not partake of (all) the Automation abilities.

 

Mostly that was a bit of GM fiat for the player's benefit, since we didn't bother to figure out the Hit Locations for a squirrel. If the player had kept making WRAS move, Louie would have shot it again and it would be dead. So I made a snap ruling to help the player out, and then when things came to a head I remembered WRAS and decided that it was both plausible and suitably dramatic for her (him?) to come back online.

 

It probably was Knocked Out, would be my guess. It has 30 STUN.

[sobran]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I'm really enjoying the read! Some details have given me ideas for my own Dark Champions game that I plan on starting as soon as this weekend, unless things go horribly awry. My campaign has some startling similarities to your own, though I suspect time limitations has made mine a lot less original.

 

Essentially I'm just taking Hudson City and plugging in PCs and likely key villains as members of a sort of First Wave of mutants or somesuch. I haven't actually decided what the cause of this will be just yet.

 

I have some questions about how you run your campaign, from a mechanics perspective. You mentioned in the chat the possibility of "talking shop", but I don't want to bog down your thread here. PM or new thread?

 

PS: Cypher's concept is made of win. True story.

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I'd suggest posting a thread asking for suggestions for your game, and feel free to ask me questions here. If I'm offering a suggestion on your thread, I might explain using reasoning from my game, so there'll likely be some cross-fertilization.

 

GM only stuff will go via PM/IM, as I've mentioned previously.

 

I'm sure Cypher's player will be glad to hear that!

[Casper]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

PS: Cypher's concept is made of win. True story.

 

I'm sure Cypher's player will be glad to hear that!

 

Oh I am...I'm sure Manic could shoot you Cyphers sheet if you don't already have it.

 

Looking foward to seeing your reflections when you get time to put them up. Perhaps when you can put them up with the Chan conversation?

[Manic Typist]

GM's Thoughts

 

The Good

1. Cypher getting to use his knowledge of Mandarin and Asian crime syndicates (although the player still hasn’t gone into the Dark Champions book and read up on Chinese crime syndicates yet, even though I told him he should. While this isn’t a pressing issue, it is this SORT of thing that can make it hard to give the PCs clues).

2. Darius surrendering. I was completely surprised by it, but pleasantly so. You hear horror stories about PCs who’d die sooner than surrender, even when if you think about it the character likely WOULD surrender, but the player won’t because it’s a game and too often a player mistakes surrender for “losing.” It was a mature and interesting roleplaying scenario that Darius opted for.

 

The Bad

1. Darius’s understanding of his abilities. He seemed to take a sort of middle ground course that stemmed from a lack of understanding of what his character could do (i.e. he shot at the mafia thugs but didn’t really push the attack and instead let them come to him… and he waited right around the corner, rather than drawing back to a more defensible position. Hardly what would happen in real life, I’d think). The player has asked me to help him with this, which I shall endeavor to do. I worry about this because I always try to caution myself against behaviors which might accidentally lead me to playing the PCs “for” the players, and thus interfering with their autonomy/fun. Additionally, at some point they just need to step up, because I’ve got enough on my plate as is. But this is a very reasonable request, so I will try to find the moderate path necessary to enhance the player’s play experience.

The In-between

1. Over emphasis on combat? 17 bodies is a lot… and the PCs have left plenty more previously, especially considering the (still not yet written) side adventures Jack’s been having in Freetown. I worry that the suspension of disbelief will be strained if this keeps up, so I need to think about how to moderate this. Fortunately, I see the PCs laying low in the very near future, so we’ll see what happens…

2. I forgot Jack’s -2 OCV (due to his arm injury) when shooting at Tony. It’s a wash since it worked to the PCs’ advantage, but I don’t like that I FORGOT it, plus it would have made things even MORE dramatic. It wasn’t LIKELY to have killed Darius if Jack had missed… unless he hit him in the head.

3. Cypher’s under utilization. Cypher could have easily scouted out that entire building and reported back to the group (and likely killed everyone in the building if he’d put his mind to it), but instead relegated himself to a support role. If this is merely the player’s preferred playstyle, or just what seemed best to him under the circumstances this is fine. I merely note it in case it might be a sign of a lack of confidence in his abilities. It makes my job of ensuring everyone has spotlight time if they are aggressive about using their character, that’s all.

 

 

 

Aside: have people been reading the title's of my various campaign entries, or should I move each entry title into the main body of the post so it is more noticeable?

[sobran]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

I wouldn't mind seeing all three of the character's sheets, to be honest. I'm kind of curious what power level you are going for when compared to my own, somewhat similar campaign. It would also interest me to see how many borderline inhuman abilities the individual characters have as a basis of comparison.

 

Well that and I am nosy.

 

I posted a thread with some questions. I'll likely have more. It's over there somewhere. *points vaguely in the direction of the Dark Champions genre section*

 

So far, the feel of the campaign closely matches what I have been trying to portray in my own. It can be a thin line, trying to balance the strangeness of these character's abilities against the grittiness of a Dark Champions backdrop. So far, you seem to be doing an excellent job Manic. For my part, I have been taking a few cues from X-Files in terms of how to keep things feeling mysterious and dark--though it should be noted I don't plan on involving aliens or a mysterious Smoking Man.

 

I can see how the body count would concern you. The more the bodies pile up, the more it can begin to seem like a video game. On the one hand, in Dark Champions, murder if often the order of the day; on the other hand, the players have to "feel" the deaths to make the effective, to a certain extent. I suspect I'm preaching to the choir here. I do have one suggestion that may help in the short term, which I'm PM'ing to you presently.

 

 

EDIT: I have been reading the titles. The bold makes them stand out.

[Casper]

Re: GM's Thoughts

 

The Good

1. Cypher getting to use his knowledge of Mandarin and Asian crime syndicates (although the player still hasn’t gone into the Dark Champions book and read up on Chinese crime syndicates yet, even though I told him he should. While this isn’t a pressing issue, it is this SORT of thing that can make it hard to give the PCs clues).

The In-between

 

3. Cypher’s under utilization. Cypher could have easily scouted out that entire building and reported back to the group (and likely killed everyone in the building if he’d put his mind to it), but instead relegated himself to a support role. If this is merely the player’s preferred playstyle, or just what seemed best to him under the circumstances this is fine. I merely note it in case it might be a sign of a lack of confidence in his abilities. It makes my job of ensuring everyone has spotlight time if they are aggressive about using their character, that’s all.

 

 

Aside: have people been reading the title's of my various campaign entries, or should I move each entry title into the main body of the post so it is more noticeable?

 

I've had lots on my plate last week, hopefully i'll get around to reading up on Hero stuff after I get my required reading done this week. As to my under utilization, i'm still not use to playing a character with that high of stealth so I've been playing cautiously, which I can do less of in the future. My cautious style may also be from me not knowing how do best utilize my character, for instance, in the mexican standoff i probably could have been avoided if i had played it differently (holding an action and then attacking each talli seperatly). Also i will admit that my ghostalk (invisiblity) i'm a bit confused - am I actually invisible or is it just a representation on how sneaky i'm currently being?

 

I read the titles of your posts.

[Manic Typist]

Re: GM's Thoughts

 

As to my under utilization, i'm still not use to playing a character with that high of stealth so I've been playing cautiously, which I can do less of in the future. My cautious style may also be from me not knowing how do best utilize my character, for instance, in the mexican standoff i probably could have been avoided if i had played it differently (holding an action and then attacking each talli seperatly). Also i will admit that my ghostalk (invisiblity) i'm a bit confused - am I actually invisible or is it just a representation on how sneaky i'm currently being?

 

I read the titles of your posts.

 

Nothing wrong with being cautious, I just want to make sure that you also do not share uncertainties about what your character is capable of.

 

Your actions (creating the standoff) almost certainly saved Jack's and Darius's life. You did really well. You might, MIGHT have been able to attack Louie without Tony noticing... but then again maybe not.

 

What it means that, barring special circumstances, someone needs to be about 1" from you in order to have a chance of visually spotting you. Technically its a representation of just how damn sneaky you are.

[Manic Typist]

Cut scene # 3

 

The empty lot was overrun wit detritus and weeds, surrounded by a broken down brick wall that vaguely suggested a building used to be here. The only light comes from a few metal barrels filled with burning garbage scattered throughout the scene. Hard eyed men stand guard over a group of kneeling men who have their hands on their heads. The guards make no move and simply watch the unfolding events as they cradle their weapons.

 

A man in grimy jeans and a leather jacket emerges from the darkness through a ruined archway and walks to the center of the area, his bare feet padding silently through the dirt and grass. He approaches a battered and bruised man who is isolated from the rest, closest to the nearest burning barrel. The man twitches and his face contorts in desperate fear as the dreadlocked figure draws closer, and he looks around for a way to escape but finds only the watching eyes of his enemies and the downturned gazes of his men, who are afraid to draw any further wrath upon themselves.

 

“Blood wind be blowin.’” The man starts as he turns his gaze back to his captor. “A storm of bullets and ambition is brewin’ and gonna take this city, fill it wit blood. Rats are gonna drown, but I be ridin’ it to the top, float over all the bodies of the rats. Only those wit the right, only those who the loa look for, are gonna survive ‘dis. I offer you a place on my raft, yet you’d rather die wit all the other rats.”

 

The man on the ground stutters “Yo man, I dunno nuffin’ ‘bout all this. I’m just trying to look after my own, you get what I-“ he’s interrupted when the other man draws out a massive Colt King Cobra and points it at his head.

 

“Do NOT be interruptin’ me!” the harsh, dread framed face yells. “You know my powers. Bad fortune befalls those who suffer my evil eye. Bullets don’t cut the flesh of my posse,” A few of the guarding men smile savagely at this comment and the man continues “Loa kill those who I wish. Tha demon that stalks Freetown be mine, my warning, my call to arms. The other gangs hear it. They know I protect them if they join wit me. You though, you stubborn. Foolish. Blind. You don’t respect the loa, and for that you’ll be dealin’ wit them short ‘nuff.”

 

The man turns and strides over the huddled group of men. “Warriors! You call yourselves WARRIORS? You be boys, little man things running scared in the night. Things out there, beyond your sight and mind, beyond your strength. But not mine. Me and mine are favored by the loa, and we will own Freetown. If you want to run this hood, you gots to run wit me or be ground under foot. Join me and be strong in the night! Bathe in the blood of your enemies and fear nothing! Or drown wit this rat,” he says as he gestures to the man behind him.

 

“What say you? You gonna live wit Brother Namaan, or die?” he calls out to the men. Slowly, they raise their heads and look at each other, and turn their gazes to the man before them fearfully. One by one they nod their heads and say “Namaan,” refusing to look at the kneeling form of their former leader.

Brother Namaan smiles, showing yellow teeth, and snaps his fingers. One of his men steps up wit a bowl and a knife and takes one of the men’s arms and holds it. Wit a quick motion he makes a small slash on the top part of the forearm and catches some of the blood in the bowl. He begins to go down the line and repeats the process as Brother Namaan continues, “Your blood is mine now! If you turn on me, I will turn it against all of you. If you are true, I will protect you from what hunts the streets… and what’s coming.”

 

The bokor looks over his newest posse members. “We be needin’ more blood, more hands and feet, for the war that be coming. We gonna drag whatever wants us straight into hell, and you gonna bring me blood and hands and feet.” He turns and walks back towards the defunct gang leader. “You though… the loa have somethin’ special in mind for you. I know an owl that would love to feast on a rat,” he whispers to the terrified man’s face. He pulls out a black hood, and with a quick snapping motion wraps it over the man’s head. The scene blacks out instantly.

 

***

A single, bright light fills the lens, until the camera angle tilts down to reveal an old man slumping wearily in a flimsy wooden chair, his hands resting on his lap. A figure walks around in front of him, shadows cast over his formal silk wear by the singular, overhead light. His head is cut off by the frame’s edge, hiding his face.

 

“Your time has passed. You lack the fire that used to carry us forward. I do what I do not for myself, but for the greater good of all.” The seated man doesn’t respond.

 

A cell phone rings, forestalling whatever might be said next. The man reaches into his silk pocket and answers the phone.

 

“Yes? How did it go? Excellent. A problem? What do you mean? Really? That is an interesting idea… no, that cannot be allowed. It’s too dangerous. Return with the prize, or burn the crop. Failure will not be tolerated.” He hangs up the phone.

 

The man turns his body to face behind him, revealing a figure seated at a table reading a small book under the light of a decorative lamp. “The grain has been ground. Should we return to the field?”

 

The soft faced man places his finger in the book to mark his place, and turns a friendly smile upon the unseen speaker. “Butcher the donkey after it finishes its job on the mill.”

 

The first man turns back to the wearied man, who still has yet to speak. He rests his hand upon the other’s shoulder affectionately. “Do not worry, honored father. You have served well. Your name will be remembered. We will carry on without you.” His hand appears from off screen, holding a pistol.

 

The older man finally speaks, “Once on a tiger’s back, it is hard to alight.”

 

The man at the table chuckles and nods his head in agreement.

 

The hammer of the pistol is thumbed back, and a gunshot flashes across the scene, leaving only white light behind it.

 

***

 

The crowd undulates and thrashes in response to the heavy beat of the techno music pounding through the club. Scantily clad figures rub against each other on the dance floor as others take hits of ecstasy at the bar. Neon lights run throughout most of the fixtures, and the floor shifts through various electric shades while the overhead lights whirl and flash, piercing the crowd with distinctive rods of colored lighting.

 

Two men cut through the crowd, dark suits marking them as black dots moving through the kaleidoscopic dance floor. A close shot reveals the crowd jumping around them and smiling in the thrill of their hedonism, but the pair remains expressionless as they quickly reach the opposite end of the club where a muscled bouncer in a tight shirt stands guarding a small set of metal steps. A quick look from one of them persuades the bouncer to step aside respectfully, and they take the stairs up to a catwalk which runs alongside an office that overlooks the entire club via a reflective window. The leather jacketed guard standing outside the door to the office opens the door without prompting as they approach, and shuts it behind them.

 

The room seems startlingly bright, especially in contrast to the darkened chaos of the dance floor, which recedes to a distance once the door shuts, leaving only the muted tingling of the bass to sneak into the soles of their shoes through the soundproofing of the room. They stand in a room dominated by white: white carpeting, white tables and chairs, white paneling. A large fish tank fills the right hand wall, set opposite the window which gives a commanding view of the club below. The two men glance around the room, taking in the opulent surroundings without reaction. Tattoos crawl and snap from their collars as their skin twists with their movements. They make eye contact, and one of them turns back towards the door and closes with the two men guarding it. The other approaches the pale maple desk which rests at the far end of the room. A large man sits behind it with a phone tucked into his chin. He waves the dark suited man forward and indicates one of the chairs in front of the desk.

 

“It will be twenty-five thousand, or nothing! Do you understand? Good, good. We will speak of this later.” He reaches across the desk and hangs up the phone.

 

“It is good to see you! You came sooner than I expected. If I had known, I would have prepared a proper welcome: strong drinks and pretty women, eh?”

 

The man looks at him impassively across the desk

 

The large man coughs awkwardly and presses forward. “Well, we are making excellent progress. These things are complicated. Business makes many demands you see. With some time, and a bit of luck we will be ab-“

 

“Time? Luck?” the tattooed man interrupts. “I am not here to talk about time. We-“ a gesture over his shoulder towards the door, where the other man is closing the door behind the exiting guards. There is no one else in the room except for the three men. He walks across the room, and as he does so the sitting one continues “are not here to deal with luck. We are here to remind you. You seem forgetful.”

 

The large man slams his palms onto the desk, causing various items to jump.“Forgetful! I forget NOTHING!” His accent bleeds through even more strongly on the last word, turning it into a harsh sound. “I remember every insult paid to me! I remember every-“ he peters off as the other man comes around the desk and sits on the corner of the desk with one foot still on the floor, invading his personal space and staring at the man stonily.

 

“DO you remember? Do you remember the favors that were done for you? The strings pulled to permit you to leave? The bribes paid to get you here? The money given to you for a fresh start? The introductions to powerful men so you can do business? Do you remember that these men are not YOUR men? They have been lent to you. Do you think they forget who they work for? Or do they remember their benefactor who freed them from their obligations, from their cells, from a life spent looking over their shoulders? Do you remember who you work for?” The two men wait, motionless. A fish drifts through the tank, his thoughts his own as he watches the proceedings silently.

 

“I remember,” the man whispers, his indignation and bravado gone now. “You can tell him that I remember.”

 

The man stands and adjusts his suit. “Tell him yourself,” he says as he turns and begins to walk towards the door.

 

“What? He is coming? He is coming here?!? When?”

 

The man sitting on the desk corner speaks for the first time: “Soon.” It is the first English word so far. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he gets up and walks to the door. They open the door and the club’s music instantly fills the room again. Without a backwards glance they disappear, and the guards filter back through to see their boss holding his head in his hands, elbows resting on the desk.

 

“^*!” he curses as he slams his fist on the desk.

 

Outside the men walk to their car, a gleaming black and silver thing parked in the fire lane in front of the club. As they get inside, the driver asks “What is with his office? All white? Who does he think he is, a big rap star?”

 

“It reminded me of the Matrix.”

 

“What?”

 

“You know, the Matrix? When they are in those big white spaces where…” he trails off as he sees the blank look on his companion’s face. He sighs. “You need to go to the movies more. Everything here is about showmanship. The right image is essential.”

 

The other one grunts and puts the car into gear, taking them into the flow of traffic. “Well, it would be difficult to remove the bloodstains. It’s impractical.”

 

The man next to him laughs. “Welcome to America!”

[Casper]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

My gut is telling me that is what we would have done if Darius had not cancled on us...

 

I don't have uncertancies. I know Cypher will be more assertive when the headsets get finished. I do believe that the number of bodies will be less as I'm fairly certain Cypher and Jack will be laying low for a few sessions, gathering information and skiping town for a bit, taking Darius with us by force if necessary.

[Manic Typist]

Re: Secret Wars Campaign Log

 

My gut is telling me that is what we would have done if Darius had not cancled on us...

 

It is one of three things you would have likely done, yes.

 

No big. Makes the writeups shorter!