Christopher

I got one more, hopefully the others can do the rest of the team
 
Turbo Rex
 
Near the end of the dinosaur era, there was a volcano eruption that made Pompeii look like a boyscout bonfire.  Many dinosaurs were caught in it.  Including a particular group of T-rex.  The one that would become known as Turbo Rex was one of these.  While out on the hunt, the heated cloud of explosion was coming.  The still growing Turbo Rex, made a futile attempt to run from it, he didn't make it far before it consumed him and all the other dinos in the area.
 
Enter a few years ago, where a paleontogical survey was going on.  They dug him up, somehow intact.  Within moments, he awoke from some kind of "hibernation".  He went on a rampage like any rambunctious, half-grown T-rex might do.  Interestingly, it was soon discovered this dinosaur had superspeed.
 
Eventually, he sensed others of his kind (the others' of the Revenant team) and he "joined" up as an odd sort of team pet.  Even though he wasn't fully grown at the time of the accident, being a revenant of sorts, he no longer grows.  He is actually faster than Vesta, thhe is the fastest of the group, but T-rex's (even the wee ones) don't exactly stop on a dime.   Hilarious collateral damage ensues.  He may have become smarter since the accident, but since we are talking a dinosaur, it is more the intellect of a puppy (which is appropriate being the team pet, he usually obeys what orders are given him.
 
Note: Bet you didn't see me going back that far.

Iron Maus: Armored political statement. Despite his comedic appearance, Iron Maus is quite serious in his war against corporate dominance and its stranglehold on many endeavors especially the creative fields. And his (Iron Maus is presumed male but no one has seen his true appearance). armor is no joke either and is easily a match for some of the most formidable high tech battlesuits available. 
 

Link to original: http://nebezial.deviantart.com/art/it-s-simple-we-kill-the-doctor-no-wait-batman-420747605

"I am Ion-Man!"
"During a atmospheric ionisation experient, several scientist were iradiated by Ionic radition and cosmic rays..."

"My scrying perch packs a punch, but it can't see what a godess does not want seen."
Why mention one godess? There should be more then 1 god blocking that sight ahead.
 
Unless of course he knows that because he tried to spy scry on a Beauty Godess while in the shower.

The nivoncoli also come from the background of my Planetary Romance campaign. They were fairly important in the backstory of the focus planet, Sard, because during the war between Earth and the Conglomerate, mercenaries working for the Transcendent Orodosheth abducted/destroyed the most tech-centered human colonies. This was an important factor in turning Sard into a Planet of Adventure instead of a "normal" colony world.
 
The nivoncoli were also a bit more playable than the inhuman zyradu. Their psychology had quirks instead of being deeply alien. Nobody chose to play a nivoncoli, but the option and the Package Deal were there.
 
(Oh, and this was all 5th edition, if that wasn't obvious before.)
 
 
NIVONCOLI
 
Biology: Nivoncoli look like humanoid antelopes. They are tall and slender, often topping two meters, with short, sleek fur mottled in various shades from white to brown. A nivoncoli has a long, narrow head with widely spaced eyes and short antlers. They have very poor depth perception but a wide angle of vision. Nivoncoli are completely herbivorous.
 
By their own account, the proto-nivoncoli lived in a desert environment with scattered and intermittent food sources. The sporadic food supply created a social hierarchy more like pack hunters than the usual grazer. When a herd converged on a food supply, the alpha male and female ate first, followed by their offspring; then the beta pairs and their offspring, and then the betas distributed food to their own subordinates. Tool use began with piling earth and dung to increase the growth of an important food-plant: Unlike humans, the nivoncoli invented agriculture before fire or language.
 
Like Earth mammals, nivoncoli give birth to “live” offspring rather than eggs, but they feed their young regurgitated food rather than suckling them. Young nivoncoli can crawl within hours of birth and walk within days.
 
Culture: For millions of years, proto-nivoncoli culture centered on finding highly localized patches of food plants, tending them to increase production, and protecting them from rival herds. The result was a species obsessed with territory and property. A nivoncoli’s status is directly based on quantity of possessions. Sapience and civilization merely abstracted the notion of property from food plants to land, money, stock options, art collections, scientific knowledge, or anything else for which “more” and “less” are meaningful. Status competition takes the form of “property” displays. For instance, a nivoncoli might respond to a display of great wealth with a counter-display of encyclopedic knowledge, no matter how trivial the subject: The object is simply to show I have more of something than you do. “Gifts” — from food to portrayal in a work of art — create a relationship of client and patron that can only be countered by some other sort of gift in return.
 
The notion of “herd” also became abstracted from its roots in kinship. A nivoncoli “herd” can be a business, a university department, an artistic movement, or any other grouping based on common property, activities or interests. Kinship bonds remain very strong for most nivoncoli, though.
 
To humans, nivoncoli seem like natural businessmen, assiduous both as managers and employees. Millions of years of pre-sapience agriculture locked in the idea that if you have an asset, you make it grow and use it to attract subordinates. Millennia of civilization and star travel led to the Conglomerate, a loose alliance of nivoncoli magnates whose wealth dwarfs even the largest human megacorporations. Each member of this “herd” owns multiple planets outright and claims millions of other nivoncoli as client-employees. The Owners, who are also called the Transcendents, strive to increase their holdings and status in a competition that no longer bears the slightest meaning to anyone except them. Their schemes play out over decades or centuries, since the Owners long ago hired zyradu geneticists to make them immortal. The multi-species world Trinicus is the closest Conglomerate-owned world to Earth.
 
The Mahal are a less exalted nivoncoli culture. These nivoncoli cut themselves loose from planets long ago to live in self-sufficient asteroid or O’Neill colonies. The latest development in this society is the construction of gigantic planoform ships so the Mahal can “graze” from star to star as opportunity beckons. The first human explorer to meet the Mahal gave them that name because the domes and spires of their ornate spaceship reminded him of the Taj Mahal.
 
Over the millennia, the nivoncoli built many other societies. These are too far away to interact much with humans, though. Humans know the nivoncoli chiefly through the Conglomerate and the Mahal. Nivoncoli space is at least 200 light-years in diameter and encompasses hundreds of worlds and numerous client species.
 
Technology: This race has highly advanced technology that it applies on a massive scale. Kiloscale constructions — huge starships, space colonies, arcologies — are commonplace for the Conglomerate and Mahal, while Conglomerate systems often show megascale engineering such as space elevators, ring cities, and even Banks orbitals. Arid nivoncoli worlds sport planet-girdling canals straight out of early human fantasies about Mars.
 
As biologists, the nivoncoli are second only to the zyradu, and they might surpass them as terraformers. Zyradu scientists may have a better understanding of ecology in detail, but nivoncoli ecological engineers know how to make a biosphere profitable. With the (important) exception of the Transcendents, the nivoncoli never seem to have felt much desire to engineer themselves — just their crops.
 
The nivoncoli are masters of the very small as well as the very large. They have better nanotechnology than anyone else within a few hundred light-years. Both the Mahal and the Conglomerate sometimes plant a “seed” of micro-machines in an asteroid to replicate and convert the raw substance into refined metals and volatiles or even complete starships or sections of an O’Neill colony. The microfacs used in Meroë are based on nivoncoli technology, though much cruder.
 
Just about everyone has experience with nivoncoli technology through the Conglomerate. The hyper-corporation sets up factories on every world that allows it entry to build anything people are willing to buy, from starships to salt shakers. Conglomerate technology is advanced for humans but merely average for the nivoncoli themselves. Anything built by the Conglomerate is sure to be sturdy, reliable and easy to use.
 
Governance: Conglomerate and Mahal societies are built around patron-client relationships. Much of nivoncoli law and government takes the form of personal contracts, spelling out what a client owes his or her patron and what the patron may expect in return. In the Conglomerate, hierarchies of patron and client become almost feudal: Owners grant their primary clients the right to take clients of their own, and to set rules for anything the Owner does not care to define. A typical Conglomerate nivoncoli, therefore, may live under three or four levels of contractual obligation from Owner down to immediate manager. The Mahal organize as stockholder republics (in fact, they gave humanity the model for such governments) with each colony or starship administered by a board of directors that acts as collective patron to the community. In a nivoncoli university (probably chartered under a Conglomerate Owner), students are clients of their teachers and not only pay them directly, they might assist with anything from research to building the teacher’s house. The teachers pay a cut to their department head and supply other favors. In general, for any nivoncoli society — from a military force to a hobby club — the most prestigious member (however that’s defined) takes the role of patron and sets the rules for subordinates. Some distant nivoncoli societies have evolved impersonal, universal codes of laws by abstracting the notion of “patron” to the state as a whole.
 
Interstellar Relations: The Conglomerate is far and away the most powerful alien polity near the Terran Sphere. It’s also the one with the most involvement in human affairs. Various Transcendents own banks, factories and other businesses on every developed world; sometimes openly, sometimes hidden behind layers of holding companies. The Conglomerate owns a great deal of property in the territories of the surellans, zyradu and every other advanced race within several hundred light-years. The Conglomerate extends further than most societies manage because it isn’t a unified government, and its true chief commodities are knowledge and capital.
 
Several alien races are now clients to individual Owners, perpetually paying back debts incurred centuries before. The Transcendent Orodosheth owns the sakaryans’ world and uses them as favored minions and mercenaries. He also owns Trinicus. Orodosheth’s rival Ishalethon virtually owned the surellans. The surellans attacked Earth in hopes they could pay off their debts with a planet’s worth of loot. Neither the surellans nor humans yet know whether the war was really the surellans’ own idea, or whether Ishalethon hoped to extend his reach to Earth — or whether Orodosheth planted the idea so he could sell the UN a battle fleet without anyone caring too much about the fine print. When humanity learned how the Conglomerate operates, the result was the Corporate Rebellion and the World Governance Board takeover. After that, the WGB prevented any Owner from gaining too much power on any human world; but the Transcendents are patient… and they still own large sectors of the economy on every developed world.
 
The Mahal inspire less anxiety among humans and other races, because they have no desire to claim territory. All of space is theirs already. These nivoncoli trade their technology for rare elements such as vanadium or chromium — about the only thing they can’t make for themselves. The wandering Mahal occasionally turn pirate if they think a settlement is too weak to put up a fight, and the nivoncoli expect never to pass by again. Most Mahal are content to sell a consignment of starships, medical nanobots, or whatever, and move on. Some Mahal space colonies conduct steady trade with the Terran Sphere. Mahal colony-ships move freely through the Terran Sphere, “grazing” on Oort clouds and uninhabited star systems, because nobody can stop them.
 
Nivoncoli relations with the zyradu are as subtle and complicated as everything involving those emotionless masters of biotechnology. Most zyradu don’t care much about hardtech, but have no objection to the Conglomerate or Mahal making whatever they need. On the other hand, the zyradu also have no shame about defaulting on debts, and the nivoncoli don’t dare press too hard: the zyradu can fight back too well. Not a few nivoncoli also make their wealth as vendors for zyradu biotechnology, since people of most species prefer to deal with middlemen than with the mercurial and ruthless zyradu themselves.
 
On a personal level, nivoncoli tend to be unfriendly to members of other species: An alien is about as far “outside the herd” as possible. Personal experience can overcome this instinctive hostility, though. Nivoncoli who associate with aliens in a company, hobby group, or other shared activity often come to feel loyalty and affection for members of this synthetic “herd,” no matter what their species.
 
NIVONCOLI RACIAL PACKAGE DEAL
 
Ability                                                                                                                                     Cost
+3 DEX                                                                                                                                   9
-2 BODY                                                                                                                                 -4
+3” Running                                                                                                                             6
Angled Eyes: Increased Arc of Perception (240 Degrees) with Sight Group                              5
Keen Nose: Discriminatory on Taste/Smell                                                                                5         
Sharp Senses: +2 PER with All Sense Groups                                                                          6
 
Disadvantages                                                                                                                       Value
Physical Limitation: Poor Depth Perception, doubled Range Penalties (Infrequently, Greatly
            Limiting)                                                                                                                       -10
Psychological Limitation: Acquisitive (Common)                                                                        -10
 
Total Cost of Package:                                                                                                            7

The zyradu are part of the background of my Planetary Romance setting, but they are not entirely my creation. Some friends of mine have run a Traveller campaign for decades. However, they dislikes some elements of the setting and rewrote them. Notably, they rewrote the aliens to make them more alien. Really, nothing but the names were left. So the vargr stopped being uplifted wolves and became a powerful species of biology-focused and utterly pragmatic aliens (and a lot weirder looking). When I joined the campaign, I offered some additional cultural detail. When I set out to create my own campaign, I did another rewrite (and changed the name and appearance to avoid confusion), resulting in the zyradu.
 
I'm using them again, under the name Hyadans, for my new Champions campaign.  -- Dean Shomshak
 
 
ZYRADU
 
Biology: The zyradu show many anatomical resemblances to Earthly reptiles. They have an internal skeleton, scaled skin and slitted eyes. They also lay eggs. Zyradu have seven limbs, though: two arms, four legs and a tail that ends in a bone spike. They also have four eyes. One pair of eyes sees colors in bright light, while one sees in dim light. Zyradu skin is colored various shades of blue or purple, from medium hues to nearly black.
 
The average zyradu weighs 200 kg, and 300 kg is not uncommon. Zyradu are never unarmed, since the long, muscular tail can curve over a zyradu’s body to strike a foe in front of the creature. Zyradu warriors sometimes affix a gun or bayonet to their tails, along with whatever weapons they carry in their hands.
 
Zyradu share one trait with pack animals, which hints at their evolutionary past: Relatively few female zyradu bear offspring, but those who do lay five to ten eggs at a time. Most zyradu cultures consider motherhood something best left to professionals. Humans have great difficulty telling male and female zyradu apart. Zyradu practice complete gender equality with no sexual politics, to the extent that they lack gender pronouns. Culturally sensitive aliens refer to zyradu as “it,” like the zyradu themselves. Zyradu have no nudity taboo, but may wear clothing for warmth, protection, or because pockets are useful.
 
Culture: Encountering the zyradu gave humanity its first hint about just how inhuman aliens might be. Zyradu lack emotion. They show physical drives to survive, mate and protect their progeny, but no love, no hate, no loyalty, anger, fear or joy. In the most general terms, zyradu seek their own best advantage, balancing what they hope to gain against the risk they must undertake, like the ideal rational actors of classical economics.
 
Zyradu recognize that no one can possess perfect information about the profit, loss and risk of every situation, especially about the long-term consequences of actions. Like humans, therefore, they form ideologies to guide their choices. Each zyradu ideology constitutes a guess about the strategy most likely to assure survival for oneself, one’s social group and the zyradu species as a whole. Ideologies do not possess any moral or transcendent aspect: zyradu do not choose an ideology because they believe it is “good.” They believe that a particular strategy optimizes their chances of surviving to propagate their genes and beliefs.
 
These different ideologies or survival strategies form the basis of social or political groupings that human xenologists dub “clans.” The zyradu term combines the connotations of extended family, political party, and even religion, while not precisely meaning any of these things. Zyradu society includes more than a dozen major clans and numerous minor clans and sub-clans. Many of these clan ideologies draw heavily on concepts from biology and ecology.
 
Zyradu clans are partly hereditary. Zyradu seek to indoctrinate their offspring with their own beliefs because people who share one’s beliefs increases one’s chance of implementing that ideology. It’s not unusual, however, for zyradu to switch to a different clan than their parents. In the remote past, groups of zyradu experimented with genetically “hardwiring” clan loyalty into their offspring, but they found that this made their societies too rigid and insular to optimize their survival. Zyradu show about the same degree of loyalty to parents as humans do: While zyradu feel no love for their parents, they do not feel any need to rebel, either.
 
Most zyradu also belong to extended families. These “phratries” combine several generations. Members usually follow the same ideology, but this is not always the case: Some phratries consider it strategically desirable to place members in multiple clans. The relationships between clans and phratries become at least as complicated and subtle as any human politics, and as volatile. Individual zyradu become leaders of their phratries or clans through seniority, skill at administration and persuasion, and interest in taking the job.
 
Nor are clans monolithic. A zyradu who disagrees with the dominant clan in its region may find it expedient to go along with the majority while attempting to nudge other zyradu to its point of view. If a zyradu sees some clear advantage to acting against its ideology, it may choose personal gain over abstract principle. Zyradu of the same clan do not necessarily agree in every detail, either, or feel mindless obedience to the clan’s interests. Zyradu pursue their own interests first. They do not even have words for concepts such as patriotism or loyalty: They must import such words from other species, or translate them as “insanity.” Zyradu can display altruism, though — some ideologies define the individual as a temporary and expendable vehicle for genes and memes.
 
Technology: The zyradu have developed biotechnology to a very great degree. Their “machines” may consist in whole or in part of organisms genetically engineered to perform special functions. For instance, zyradu do not build computers: They grow creatures whose brains are hardwired to perform intricate calculations or operate complex machinery by instinct. The zyradu grow living buildings, factories, vehicles… and weapons. Zyradu warfare relies on synthetic plagues and artificial organisms of varying lethality. Biotechnology cannot replace all “hardtech” — living fusion reactors or starship engines just aren’t possible — but the zyradu possess great expertise at integrating living and nonliving devices.
 
For millennia, the zyradu have genetically engineered themselves, too. However the species began, the average zyradu is now stronger, tougher, and smarter than the average human. Some zyradu diverge wildly from the species norm because of altered genetics. Most zyradu consider genetic alteration and bioengineering completely normal. They do not understand how humans could fight devastating wars over such an issue.
 
Governance: Zyradu space extends more than 200 light-years. No single polity extends further than a single world, however, and few zyradu societies grow even that large. Zyradu space consists of ever-changing alliances and counter-alliances between clans. A clan may wield enough power in a particular region that humans would say it “rules” that world, continent, city-state or neighborhood, but the zyradu would not. Zyradu space is not a government, or even a collection of governments: It is an ecology in which clans and phratries compete and cooperate like different species in a reef or forest. Even a single clan operating on the fringe of human space, however, may command the resources and power of a human planetary government.
 
Interstellar Relations: Different clans hold different attitudes to humanity and other species. Some zyradu want peaceful coexistence with other species; others regard competition as better for zyradu and aliens alike. A small, radical clan advocates the extinction of all other sapients to make more room for zyradu expansion, but the overwhelming majority of zyradu believe this strategy is counterproductive.
 
Zyradu treat other species the same way they treat each other. Often, they do whatever seems expedient to get what they want. Sometimes that means whatever they can get away with. Trust is one of the most valuable commodities for zyradu: Those who must live in close proximity can count on reciprocal self-interest to keep their fellows honest, but how can they prevent robbery, cheating or default if a zyradu can hop on a starship and vanish? Zyradu use elaborate methods to make default more costly than keeping faith. Humans joke that the zyradu invented the escrow company before the wheel. More extreme measures include mutual poisonings, with the antidote delivered when a deal is complete, or floating assassination contracts on anyone who robs or cheats the client. The zyradu who provide such services work very hard to establish their fidelity, for that is their fundamental commodity.
 
Clan alliances sometimes fight wars with other species. Zyradu warfare appalls humans for its cold-blooded pragmatism. These creatures don’t care about dominance displays, honor, revenge, or other intangibles. They also don’t care about mercy, rights, or rules of warfare. Nothing matters except achieving some tangible advantage over a rival (or victim).
 
The zyradu specialize in biowarfare — spreading plagues to remove an enemy’s capacity to resist. If the zyradu think a foe might become useful later on, they create diseases to incapacitate enemies and supply the cure once the enemy surrenders. If zyradu see no potential benefit from an enemy, the plague kills. Fortunately for other species, the far-sighted zyradu rarely decide that today’s enemy is a threat forever and a resource never. Most clans believe that outright attempts at genocide cause more problems than they solve.
 
The causes of wars against aliens range from the obvious — zyradu want to colonize a world but not share it — to the utterly obscure, at least to the aliens involved. To be fair, some of the wars make no sense to the zyradu, either. The zyradu make no secret that they find much of other species’ behavior difficult to understand — especially humans. Wars between zyradu and humans (or other species) usually end when someone buys out one of the attacking clans or finds a way to make the zyradus’ goal too difficult to be worth the effort. Wars between zyradu factions tend to move in slow motion, as the members of each participating clan ponder each new development and recalculate their own risks and interests.
 
Much about zyradu society and politics remains puzzling to humans, though zyradu themselves insist (of course) that their societies are entirely rational and therefore entirely comprehensible. Other species do not understand zyradu culture because other species are not rational. Individual zyradu possess different sets of information to guide their decision-making, however, and this leads to inevitable disagreement and in some cases to error and less than optimal survival strategies, or even different standards of what constitutes “survival.” Xenologists caution humans to tread cautiously and to avoid reading human motives and viewpoints into zyradu societies.
 
CLANS
At least half of all zyradu merely ally with whatever faction seems strongest or pays best. They desert when they find a better deal. These “Opportunist” zyradu display no loyalty to each other, either — only to their phratry.
 
Many of the clan names refer to biological, ecological or evolutionary concepts — a link to the zyradu’s awesomely advanced biological science. Clans known to humans include:
 
CLONAL MONAD: These zyradu form hive-mind societies in isolation even from other zyradu. Their hives often live in space colonies.
 
COERCIVE GARDENER: These zyradu advocate conquering other species as a means of managing them and, in the long run, assimilating them into zyradu society. When zyradu control all sentient life, other species cannot threaten zyradu survival.
 
COMMENSAL ADAPTER: This clan advocates cooperation with other sentient species for mutual benefit. These zyradu point out the many instances of cooperation between species in every planet’s ecosystem. The Commensal Adapters chiefly interact with humanity through trade, leading some humans to call them “Commercial Adapters” instead.
 
COMPETITIVE SELECTOR: This clan advocates war against other species to winnow out weak societies, both zyradu and alien. The Competitive Selectors think the zyradu can out-compete other sapient species and displace them from their worlds.
 
DISCRETE GENOME: These zyradu oppose any cooperation with other sapients and advocate strict isolationist policies. They would use force, if necessary, to keep other sapients at a distance and prevent contamination from non-zyradu cultures. The Discrete Genome also tries to prevent species contamination between biospheres.
 
IMMORTAL: A defunct clan from zyradu history. About 15,000 years ago, a group of zyradu created offspring who never grew old. In a matter of centuries, the immortals achieved immense influence over zyradu society through sheer accumulation of resources. The Immortals dominated the zyradu for millennia in a stultifying period that many zyradu now regard as a dark age. The Immortals did not make more of their kind because they had no need for offspring to carry on their genes or beliefs, and every other Immortal was a competitor. Over the millennia, the Immortals died by mishap or assassination, or they retreated into ultra-secure, self-sufficient bunkers. Few of them remain active and they wield no great influence in zyradu space. (However, they gave ideas to the nivoncoli who became the Owners of the Conglomerate.)
 
IMMUNAL EXTINCTION: This radical clan seeks to annihilate all species, sapient or otherwise, that could threaten zyradu survival. Other zyradu periodically suppress the Immunal Extinctionists on the grounds that this clan itself endangered zyradu survival by provoking wars with other species. The clan keeps reappearing, however, as a spontaneous sociobot.
 
MUTAGEN: These zyradu engage in radical genetic experimentation upon themselves in hopes of bypassing evolution and finding ways to improve their species. They conduct similar experiments upon other species too, including other sapients when they can get away with it. Mutagens believe that a more powerful genetic science increases the zyradu’s power and safety in the long run, even if it costs the lives of individuals — preferably not themselves, of course.
 
SAPIENT CLADE: These zyradu promote social and biological diversity among sentient life. They think diversity confers flexibility and rapid innovation, and this in turn brings strength and promotes survival. The Sapient Clade believes in protecting endangered cultures — even non-zyradu cultures — just like endangered species. Who knows what gene or meme might become useful at a later time?
 
SLAVER: This small clan rules and exploits a species called the r’yax. The Slavers began as a Commensal Adapter group that tried to accelerate the r’yax’s technological development and ended up conquering them. For their own safety, the Slavers cannot release the vengeful r’yax. The Slavers point out, though, that parasitism is one of the most successful of all ecological strategies. There may be other Slaver clans in the depths of zyradu space.
 
STEEL INTEGRAL: These zyradu pursue hardtech instead of biotechnology. They place particular emphasis on bionics as a way to combine the strengths of zyradu and machine. Steel Integral members can hold any other ideology as well, but they agree that technological development forms the most important strategy for their species’ survival and growth.
 
SYMBIONT VOID: This clan eschews planets to live in mobile space habitats. It also seeks to incorporate other species into the clan society. Humans know little about the Symbiont Void.
 
Humans perceive two major alliances or super-clans in zyradu culture, which they call simply “Clan Group A” and “Clan Group B.” Clan Group A generally takes an aggressive posture to other species. Clan Group B generally advocates some form of peaceful coexistence. The Coercive Gardeners and Competitive Selectors are bulwarks of Clan Group A, while the Commensal Adapters and Sapient Clade lead Clan Group B.
 
Other clans remain neutral or make temporary alliances based on shared interests. For instance, Symbiont Void zyradu usually side with Clan Group B, but they can also work with the Coercive Gardeners if that seems like the best way to increase the species diversity of their space habitats. Conversely, the Discrete Genome sometimes sides with Clan Group B if they think a war would increase contact with another species.
 
ZYRADU RACIAL PACKAGE DEAL
 
Ability                                                                                                                                     Cost
+5 STR                                                                                                                                    5
+3 CON                                                                                                                                  6
+3 INT                                                                                                                                    3
-6 COM                                                                                                                                  -3
Tail: Extra Limbs, Intrinsic (+1/4), No Manipulation (-1/4)                                                       5
Tail: 1d6 HKA                                                                                                                        15
Tough Skin: 2 PD, 2 ED Armor                                                                                               6
+3” Running                                                                                                                             6
 
Disadvantages                                                                                                                       Value
Psychological Limitation: Lack of Emotion, Driven by Self-Interest and Abstract Philosophy (Common, Strong) -15
 
Total Cost of Package:                                                                                                          28

xkcd actually dealt with that argument. It is not really one:

https://xkcd.com/1232/
 
It is realy just an argument from people who have no good argument against space exploration, and try to bring out a dead-beat argument.
Once you realise it is a dead-beat argument, all you will hear is a surrender by the other party.
 
Global extinction by planetary event is still a likely possibility. And might be a core driving factor in conflicts.
People being actually raised with a example for "the pale blue dot" in thier nightsky might have tremedous social effect once they return home. Same way most other "studying abroad" has positive effect on leaders right now.
I asume colonising another planet would either accelerate "solving all problems" or even make it possible in the first palce.
 
Same way Urbino once helped fan the flames of Renaisance.

Stephanie Steam was a brilliant but normal engineer with an intrest is science fiction \. She was reading a steampunk novel when the device she had been working on broke. A chunk of metal hit her in the head. After getting out of the hospital, she returned to her lab and making an old time dress a special monocle, and a steam power multifunction rifle. She was next seen capturing  the head of an illegal gambling den. When nterviewed she said her name was Stephaine Steam a spical agent of her majesty Queen Victoria her on special assignment in the colonies. There are several who think she should be institutionalized, but so far she has caused no deaths so they aren't pressing too hard,

Forgot to write down the previous session of Shadowrun 2050, Hellhound gang member (or rather everything that is left)
 
Medicine Man: Me. Ameridian Doctor and Face; not yet acustomed to the streetlife
Freddy 0 aka "Dr. Feelgood": Dwarf Mage and drugdealer, with rules to never sell to children/pregnant women
 
Conclusion Elementals:
The whole story about the Johnson being the Music producer for the band did not pan out. He still wanted the band and alive, but for something other then making them the next big hit.
So the team decided - against my objections - to not fullfill the job. As thanks we got attacked by a magical assasin.
 
Remember how I mentioned the food fight scenario a while back?
The women we resqued was Rowena O'malley. As in daughter of the Mafia Don for Seatle, O'malley. Or rather ex-don.
Turns out that the Runners that had a run-in with our team while chasing Rowena (after missing her at home) were the distraction for the Sniper who killed the dad.
Guess who Rowena thought of to investiage the crime against organised crime?
 
Everything looks like the Sharpshooter was a absolute professional:
Maxrange shoot, custom rifle (with a unusually large calliber), custom ammunition.
He even hired those runners we meet at Stuffer Shack to kill Rowena - all so they would work as distraction and take out the houses mundane and magical security system for his shoot. Luckily our goal is more then person that hired the killer, with the killer being only a bonus.
 
Time for some legwork.
My chracter goes for our contact from the Elvenfire Adventure, Knight Errant detective Koren Thark (Metahuman division).
 
MM: We are looking into that assasination of the previous Don - O'malley - and were wondering if that weapon was used in any other assasinations before.
Koren: First the Yakuza and now you are working for the Mafia too? How do you even know them?
MM: We meet them at th Supermarket.
Koren: Yeah, as if I believe that.
Freddy 0 (OOC): Ironically that is exactly what happened.

I can just hear the line now:
 
Kommunist Kobold: In UKSR*, you not have to worry about finding a party every night. In UKSR, the Party finds you ( ).
 
 
*UKSR: United Kobold Socialist Republics
 
 
 
Major Tom 2009

I forgot this one from a few weeks ago. Historical fantasy game, set in the "real" Europe of 1001 AD. The PCs have been summoned to meet with Pope Sylvester II aka Gerbert of Aurilac, who in real life was also one of Europe's leading scholars and mathematicians of his day. (Granted not a ton of competition for that title in 1001...) They find the Pope has constructed a giant room-sized abacus, with His Holiness up in the choir loft directing monks who are pushing large disks around like a giant game of shuffleboard which is apparently a thing Gerbert actually did. So I'm describing this to the players - mainly just because I thought it made for a cool visual and gives a sense for the guy's character - and I offhandedly remark that I have no idea why a giant abacus would be better at solving mathematical problems that a regular-sized one, when one player explains:
 
"Well you see, Moore's Law tells us that the maximum size of abacus stones doubles every 5 years..."

A stepping stone to the wormhole?
 
http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/sunearth/news/mag-portals.html
 
Could these be used to propel vessels through space at hyper velocities between massive bodies in space?

Another week, another set of stories and quotes. This time with all 5 players there. The actors are:
 
Medicine Man: Me. Ameridian Doctor and Face; not yet acustomed to the streetlife
Freddy 0 aka "Dr. Feelgood": Dwarf Mage and drugdealer, with rules to never sell to children/pregnant women
Club: Troll Adept with electro-wrapped feet that realy dislikes Spirits. Mostly by kicking them.
Roy: *
Raven:  *
*I still have some issues keeping those two appart due to the similar name. I know that one is a troll and the other a ranged adept. I will jsut refer to either as "R" right now.
 
The Adventure is a blast from the past - of Shadowrun 1st Edition.
 
One of the other GoGangs in the City are the "Leather Devils". Thier shtick is being "gay men". Naturally anytime anything Clishe Gay comes up, they are mentioned.
On a related note, the Johnson wants to meet in the "Pink Bull". Despite the name it is a straight barrens strip club, without any specialisation for troll strippers (to the dismay of our 2 trolls).
 
Our Johnson turns out to be a music producer with a Band gone rogue. The Elementals* have just recently surfaced to the wide public, when they publish a demo track/single for free.
However his company has been working with them until recently. They took issue with some of the Contract details, broke contact and brought out thier single/demo. And they won't accept any calls from thier producer. He would pay for any Band Member plus once for the complete album. Did I mention that had to happen in the next 6 hours? And of course the band members alive and (mostly) well, aside from the abduction part.
 
*They can be found on using google. However I did not look into it too deep for fear of Spoiling myself.
 
The Band Members are:
A human female singer called Whispering Wind.
A elf guitarist called Wild Fire.
A troll drummer called Bambi. Yes, like that Disney Movie Character.
A amerindian human Key Guitarist called Coyote.
 
We get some Narcojet Pistols to take them down safe-ish. We get a spot where they will be (thier recording studio), but it is highly advised not to try to abduct them there.
 
Once out a discussion breaks out if we should actually do this. After all we would abduct a indie band to throw them into the maw/arms of a corporation. In the end we vote 3:2 for doing it for the money.
 
 
Turns out the Johnsons tip was right, the studio is in the one place in the barrens where we can't not just go in and out without getting cops on our tails - Touristville.
Opposite of a 200 Store Mall, none the less. And with a security system very likely tied to the one of said mall.
We resolve to follow them home, asuming that those palces will be less secure. That turns out to be a somewhat bad idea:
 
First, when leaving the building they all do so on seperate motorcycles. What a luck we are a GoGang and thus fully equipped with Bikes, right? At least we manage to follow them home. The GM handles the stealth/driving probes in paralell, just so the following part has more impact:
Whispering Wind Lives in Belevue, the rich part of the Metroplex. Where every Window is part of the Alarm System and police response times are measured in minutes (instead of hours like in the barrens).
 
The other two life in parts of the barrens, but definitely not "walk in the park" kind of extractions:
Wild Fire owns/lives in "Wild Fires arcarde". A place for 2050 games that also happens to be neutral territory for the local gangs. And well frequented.
 
Bambi seems to live in "The Troll Emporium".
We: "What is a Emporium?"
GM: Basically the same thing as Ned Flanders Lefthandrium, just for trolls.
The building is also made of solid brick except for the enterance. And based on a Perception tests they keep Wolfs as guard animals. The GM is insistent on the plural part.
 
Coyote lives in a defunct hotel/park. Where due to toxic waste issues plants thrive, but animals die. So in years past the owner put a bunch of animatronic animals onto the grounds. Then barrenisation happened.
R: A amerindian, named like a Mentor Spirit, on a Plant preserve/toxic waste site. I think we are going to meet some toxic spirits. Or Spirits in general.
I could not help but channel Mayor John Sheppard at this point:
 
All: Oh Shit.
Needless to say that at this point we all regreted terribly not to have take our shoot at getting them back at the recording studio when they were all together.
 
The one that followed Whisper Wind decides to try the old "Fake Pizza Dilivery and sneak attack with Narcojet pistol" trick.
Objections to wait for the Face that also happens to be the best Pistol Shooter and on his way are ignored. Surprisingly it works and we got her before any police response reached us.
To be continued
 
 
In no particular order:
MM: "If all the money is in digital form and the closest thing to cash is a Certified Credstick, how do you give a Stripper a tip?"
 
The GM talks a bit about what would have happened if we had failed our Stealthy pursiut:
GM: Whisper Wind is the Daughter of a Mercenry, so far from a slouch in a fight. Also she would have called a few friends of her late daddy home. The equipment would not have been that bad. Except forthe LMG's. And it would have only been 4 of them.
 
GM: If Bambi had detect you, he would have driven into a dead end and just turned on the LMG hidden in his bike
A: A hidden LMG on a bike?
GM: This was the first edition. Bikes had two hardpoints for heavy weapons
A: Okay, you really do not mess with people in the first edition
GM: Oh wait I misread. Not a LMG. A Panther Assault Cannon (a miniature tank gun).
A: A Troll with a Panther is so cliché
 
As the 405 Hellhounds we got a pair of Hellhounds as mascots. Those even survived the assault on our headquarters and are still with us. Time to "go out with the dog".
Freddy 0: I go out with the Hounds
Club: I come along
GM: A dwarf and a troll walking two dogs together. So where is the baby?
MM: Of course the dogs are the 'babies'
Freddy 0: I just wonder if the lantern posts can survive Hellhound piss?
MM: Other gangs spray gangtags. We just have burned down latern posts and hellhound breath burn marks everywhere.
 
Some odd linguistic conincidence happened Club, our troll.
I am originall from Berlin but now live at the new (for the time being?) Capitol of Bonn.
The actuall name of Club is "Keule", the german word for club. But it is also used a slangterm in Berlin and I instantly indentified it.
Club/Keule (OOC): What does it mean in Berlin Slang?
MM: Little Brother...
 
We discuss visiting the Orphanage where Koren Tark hired us originally to be a "good role model" for the kids.
GM: I think you and the priest have different definitions of "good role model"
MM: Remins me of what the 2050 book says about the Puyallup district of seatle:
"For reasons all of us have trouble understanding, Puyallup seems to be doing its damnedest to become Redmond.
As is the case with the neighborhood kid who worships the hot-tempered go-ganger whose face is a mass of scars and stitches, you constantly wonder why they couldn’t have picked someone else as a role model."

A working Unified Field Theory (or similar terminology) would be just that. "Holy Grail" is the closest approximation they have.
It is like the P vs NP problem of mathematics (find one P solution for any NP-complete problem, you found a P solution for all NP-complete problems).
 
There is just no way to explain why either thing is important for those scientists, unless you are one of those scientists. They need to have something to explain "this is really important for us". And it will give us a imeasurable progress if we figure that out.

Star Wars game, referring to our captain:
"She's sticking with her core competencies: hurting people and breaking things.'
"Don't forget threatening to hurt people and break things."
"What about her piloting?"
"That would also fall under threatening to hurt people and break things..."

The start to the Northlands campaign (basically, all characters are young members of the Viking Jarl's household, starting out eager to prove their worth). We are summoned before the Jarl, and assigned the task of watching over his three young daughters as they go out this early Spring day to pick wildflowers for the festival. The daughters range in age from about 9 or 10 to 16. There is an almost apologetic "I know this isn't exactly the assignment a young, eager Viking is hoping for, but there's no one to bash and pillage at the moment" aspect to the speech.
 
When we note that our four PC's consist of a young Elven druid (who's pretty OK with going out to pick wildflowers), a 17 year old warrior (who's OK with it since nothing better's out there) and two...sixteen year old twin sisters, one of whom is likely hard to distinguish from the Jarl's daughters.
 
Now, on the way out, we meet a band of hardy warriors headed back from a (failed) assignment to find a couple of criminals (clearly very nuanced foreshadowing of the foes we will face later in the scenario). One of whom chooses to be insulting, and mock the PC's with their "job of shepherding young girls". 16 YO female PC responds, loudly as they depart, "Of course [Warrior's Name] would think little of such a task. EVERYONE knows he doesn't like girls."

Champions - Return To Edge City : Retro SF
Refurbishing the Machinist's old lair under South Pinnacle, and various major public works.

Hero Shrew OoC: At least THIS place isn't infested with giant man-eating spiders.

And the base comes with its own 150 year old clockwork owl.

Flux: Who keeps that thing wound up?
Hardlight: Who? Whoo-whoo.

Hero Shrew: Can we have a Danger Room? We take turns sitting on top of a ladder with a bucket of water balloons.

The Dysprosium Dawn gangers admit that the drugs the cyborg gang were using were produced by the DD leadership - the leadership that escaped in their invisible car.

The Machinist's files include his encounter with something he called the Iron Devil, which was some kind of automaton.

Fireflash: Let me guess - his version of Ultron?
GM: Yes - except he didn't invent it.

Hardlight: Nancy, hold all my calls - I have one hell of a data-entry job ahead of me.
GM: Well, you do have years of notes to transcribe.
Fireflash: Hey, I'm helping!
Hero Shrew: I'm not.

Hardlight: Oh great, he had clockwork sex-meks.
GM: Actually, it's part organic. It used to be a woman.
Hardlight: .... Well, foot in mouth already.
GM: At least you're staying in character.

Hardlight: Flux can set up his lab over there - the Feng Shui is good there.
Fireflash: Feng Shui? Is that some Chinese superhero I should know about?
Hero Shrew OoC: I'm willing to bet they're a Californian super.
GM: That IS more likely XD

We also discover what happened to him - increasingly disillusioned with the US, he applied one of his discoveries about anti-gravity.

GM: 'IMA GOIN TA MARS!' Or beyond.

GM: Your mother will have things to say if you spend too much time with two grown men and... Hero Shrew works at a titty bar, OK?

Opinions are mixed about the association between human and Moreau super beings. For one thing the underage Fireflash can't go into The Collar Club if they need Hero Shrew. But then Hero Shrew is his own problem.

Edge City Racists: Great, the humans can keep him on a leash.
GM: He is pretty notorious for doing property damage - but admittedly he hasn't been doing as much of that lately.
Hero Shrew: Well, I'm working two jobs now - I don't have the time.

Fireflash: Time for exams.
GM: Oh look, A++ on everything. Again.
Fireflash: Why did I get an A- on this one?
GM: Snoring in class.

Fireflash's new outfit has glowing piping.

Hardlight: And in red 'If this is blue you're going too fast'.

The Booster's breakaway group have taken to calling themselves the Juicers, and have established themselves in West Haven.

Hero Shrew: And what is West Haven known for?
Fireflash: Juicers.

On the other hand the cocktail of drugs that go into Juice are turning up on Edge City's recreational scene. Which can be alarming, given the nature of the drugs and the variety of biochemistry possessed by the locals. Even the Dysprosium Dawn gangers making the stuff are being cautious who they sell to. One of the new drugs is called 'Cooling', for some reason. Oh, and some kind of very big thing has been spotted swimming around in Monterey Bay.

Flux: So, which of us can swim?
Hero Shrew: I can sink pretty well.

And people have been seeing Grey aliens in Saint's Row. Wearing t-shirts and jeans.

GM: Saint's Row is just north of the Hellgate Institute.
Hero Shrew OoC: HELLGATE??
GM: Where you were born.
Fireflash: Decanted.

Flux: Well, the aliens might have a mundane explanation.
Fireflash: I'm assuming a mundane explanation - it's aliens XD
Flux OoC: ... Damn superhero milieu...

There is precisely ONE photo of the aliens on the Internet. Which is pretty odd, and highly suspicious. Flux copies the file into a honey trap, to see if anybody tries to delete it, while the rest of us study the picture for clues. Apparently it was taken near a cinema and a newsstand, judging by the 'Plan 9 from Outer Space' and 'Mars Attacks!' posters and bundled newspapers with Roswell headlines. There's only one cinema in Saint's Row, and that's disused. More weirdly, the stack of newspapers in the photo are 50 years old, but the empty bottles are a few years old at best.

Hardlight: Why are we looking for these guys?
Fireflash: Because someone doesn't want us to.
Hero Shrew: That's always a good reason.

Flux: We'll pick Fireflash up after school hours, so her mother doesn't murder us in our sleep.

Hardlight gets to work on the cinema locks.

Flux: Fine, break in, I don't give a shit.
Hero Shrew: You don't give a flying flux.
GM: At least Hardlight looked around to see if the news blimp was filming you, this time.

Hero Shrew smells the scent of a lot of frightened people, who were here recently. Also, so many empty bottles and tin cans that's it's impossible to move quietly.

GM: Their diet appeared to be mostly Cheetos and tinned food.
Hero Shrew: My god - no wonder I could smell it when we opened the door.

The aliens apparently fled into the utility tunnels shortly before we arrived.

GM: Does anybody have tracking skills?
Flux: I do? I used to be a vigilante. But no stealth skills, apparently.
GM: I am the bat that flaps noisily in the night.
Hero Shrew: Ghost Rider. Not stealthy at all - indeed, rather conspicuous.

We eventually catch up with them - mostly because they're exhausted by the evacuation and trying to telepathically confuse the pursuit.

GM: Congratulations - how nice a guy is Flux? Be causing you've literally just run them to ground.
Flux: Vigilante, remember?
Hero Shrew: Illegal aliens.

Fireflash tries to talk to them, but they really just want to be left alone and unnoticed.

Alien: And if I wasn't so tired you never would have noticed us. Just like the last three times. *he collapses*
Fireflash: Quick, does anybody have any energy bars?
Hero Shrew: I do.
GM: Are they fit for human consumption?
Hero Shrew: ... They're fit for Moreau consumption.
GM: Aren't mealworm bars marketed to people anyway?
Hero Shrew: Insects are edible.
Fireflash: SOME insects are edible.

But what to do with them? Even if they want to be left alone we can't really leave an unknown number of aliens squatting in an empty cinema, eating expired tinned goods and shooting up.

Hero Shrew: How many more warehouses can you afford, Mr Lowell?
Flux: We're not putting them in a warehouse.
Hero Shrew: Why not? They'll be studied by top people.
Fireflash: Top people are useless anyway - they just stand in one spot and grin.
All: .... Groan.

Flux: We only found these guys because we have better endurance than them.
Hero Shrew: Well, of course we do - we have to endure Fireflash's puns every day.

We can't hand the aliens over to one of the extraterrestrial affairs bureaus - because they're Moreaus.

Hero Shrew: Huh - my Live Action Zootopia theory is looking more likely. Looks like they were going to make remakes of 50s SF too.

But that's where things get especially weird - these guys claim to be Moreaus - and they think they're Moreaus - but they have none of the genetic markers shared by all the Moreaus that came out of the Genesys labs. 

Pathfinder : Craptastic
(Small note - Harshal's Harrow card should actually be the Twin, which makes much more sense than the Bear.)

In this episode, the party learn more than they ever wanted to know about Magnimar's sewerage disposal systems, rescue a bunch of kobold slaves who go on to invent communism, and enable graverobbing from Fantasy-Native-Americans (awkward!!!!).

GM: I give a Hero Point to the Chronicler, and whoever keeps track of the party treasure.
Harshal: Which is currently two hundred pounds of garlic.

In fact, the garlic is more valuable than the job we were originally hired for - substantially more so.

GM: Which explains why there was always a guy out the back of the spice merchant's shop. You can guarantee he'll be investing in a better lock.

GM: And that set of printers dies was only the basics.
Harshal player: Didn't even include the cliches.
Gillert: Ha.
Harshal's player: I'm serious - it's where the word cliche came from. Preset blocks of frequently used words and phrases, 'clicked' into place.
Gillert's player: I love gaming at this table - you always learn something. History, criminology...
Zin's player: Entomology.
GM: AND etymology.

Erstwhile noble Tannis Orbereck has been hearing stories about the Silent Circle turning up around Magnimar - deeply creepy individuals with suspicious synchronisation and blank silver masks. Typically for the Circle, nobody knows what they're doing in Magnimar, or why they're here. Also, the Nightscales - the Magnimar thieves guild - are pissed off that somebody bypassed their smuggling operation.

GM: They've been asking questions, but haven't got very far.
Harshal: *looks innocent* I hope they make an example of somebody.

And one of the Gargoyles - a brutal Underbridge gang - got mauled in an alleyway. Despite his bodyguard being just outside the alley. In hopefully unrelated news, Tannis gets an invitation from his cousin Emalliandra Orbereck, inviting him - and Harshal! - around for tea.

GM: Knowing your cousin, you might want to take your own chair.

She is very diligent into her research into Azlanti heritage and artefacts, so you'd think she'd be quite respected in the Orbereck clan. But she doesn't actually like her family much, and keeps to herself in her bookshelf-choked rooms in the Docklands. Harshal shares her interest in Azlanti and Thassalonian artefacts, which may explain why he's been asked to attend. Tannis shows up deliberately late.

Tannis: My family may deserve respect, but they are not masters of me.

Emalliandra: Who is it?
Tannis: Your cousin.
Emalliandra: Is it teatime already?
Harshal: *sigh* I anticipated this - I brought a hamper.

Emalliandra: Look at you, cousin! You've been busy!
Harshal: 'And look, you've actually grown a beard!'

The rooms are even worse than rumours suggested, with books piled up high against every wall.

Tannis: You know, dear cousin, if you were actually willing to pay you could find a better apartment.
Emalliandra: Oh, I couldn't do that - it's too entertaining listening to the landlady entertaining her visitors.
Harshal: *chokes on his tea*

There is actually a small table and four chairs.

Emalliandra: I've been making friends. And I friends tell me you and your friend Harshal have been naughty boys.
Harshal: *tenses up*
Tannis: I'm pretty sure that's not true.
Emalliandra: I'm pretty sure it is - that much lead coming into the city will be noticed.
Tannis: We didn't do anything illegal.
Harshal: *internal facepalm*
Emalliandra: Did you pay import duties?
Tannis: Oh, you mean illegal under Guild Law.
Emalliandra: Now, I've nothing against a little smuggling now and then, but the Nightscales have been making enquires and they're getting close. Your friend Harshal here - good day to you by the way.
Harshal: *bows and kisses her proffered hand* Ma'am.
Emalliandra: As I was saying, your friend here is a known associate of our Mr. Crispin, so it won't take them long to make the connection.

However, the Nightscales can be distracted. They've been digging a tunnel - not under the Irespan, since they're not insane - and if this smuggling operation gets disrupted, the current master of the thieves guild will lose a huge amount of face, and hopefully lose interest in pursuing minor smuggling issues.

Tannis: And how does this benefit you?
Emalliandra: Who knows how many priceless Thassalonian artefacts they're smashing as they dig? This is an area that needs finesse and careful excavation, not...
Harshal: Hamfisted pick-axing in the dead of night.
Emalliandra: Exactly. But you will be doing me a favour, and favours must be repaid. I offer you and your associates silver - so much less suspicious than gold, don't you think? - and an assortment of potions. I can reward you appropriately. *glances at the alchemical and appraising set-up in one corner*

Tannis: Well, thank you, cousin. Family must stick together.
Emalliandra: Especially those more 'interesting' family members.

Half an hour of small talk over tea and cakes ensues, as Harshal considers the matter.

Harshal: I'll need a reliable team - or at the very least warn them they may have to get out of town in a hurry.

One complication - nobody seems to know who is doing the actual digging for the guild. And of course getting involved in Nightscales affairs right now is possibly the worst thing we could do.

Zin: So... Your solution to our pissing off the thieve's guild is to piss them off even more?

Emalliandra's contributions include potions of Cure Light Wounds, and one of Concealment from Animals.

GM: The effect ends if you actually touch an animal, so it's not much use in the sewers, because you'll keep stepping on rats.

Tannis: This operation might be rewarding for us.
Harshal: Her Ladyship is in a position to express her gratitude appropriately.

Gillert: I bought an umbrella.
GM: Some people in Underbridge never see rain. Or daylight.

Harshal: Do we need to put a false tail on Zin?

Zin: I'm a Kobold who disguised as a Halfling trying to disguise himself as a gnome.

We gather rumours.

Dockworker: Damnedest thing - bunch of Nightscales come in to pick up a shipment. That's not the weird thing - it was all moon-radishes! And mushrooms.
Harshal: Moon-radishes. Hmm.
Tannis: Gee, I wonder what races eat moon-radishes and mushrooms.
Harshal OoC: *nudges Zin* Hint, hint.
Tannis: Oh look, the Halfling seems to know something.
GM: 'Hey, I remember moon-radishes! *drools*'

Tannis: They must have wanted miners that aren't very bright.
GM: That explains why they're using kobolds.
Harshal: 'Gee, I wonder what burrowing race we can pay in radishes'

Insulting Zin's heritage is quite easy, even if most of us don't actually know he's a Kobold yet - maybe we can stir up the kobolds against the Nightscales just as easily.

Zin: And then we'll have freed Kobold slaves running around under Magnimar.
Ys: Not our problem.
Harshal: Unless they burrow into the Irespan, and then it IS our problem.
Ys: Nope. Then it's the city guard's problem
GM: Nah - The kobolds would run into the sewer goblins first. Rats aren't the only pests under Magnimar.

We track the excavations down by backtracking along the complicated chain of gangs, mafia, and nightsoil carts the Nightscales are using to conceal their activities. Fortunately, the team is very very good at not being noticed.

Harshal OoC: Stealth Synergy - the entire party sneaks down the street disguised as a wall.
NPC: 'This corridor seems a lot shorter than it used to be'

Harshal notes that the Shoanti gangers the Nightscales are using are all from the Skoan-quah or Skull Clan, who when they're out on the steppes protect the Shoanti burial grounds, and so on.

The richest districts of Magnimar are all up on the ramp leading to the stumps of the Irespan, overlooking Underbridge and the port.

Harshal: Makes for easy sewerage disposal too. *reach out, pour*
GM: Actually, when they were founding Magnimar they got a master engineer in to design the sewer system.
Zin OoC: So Magnimar is one of the few medieval cities with indoor plumbing.
GM: One problem is that nobody has a complete map of the sewers. Which is why they have all those cultists down there. Turned out later the engineer was a Norgorber cultist. He put in a lot of extra tunnels and dead-ends.

One puzzle is why material from the excavation is going in multiple directions.

Gillert: Maybe they're finding valuables as they excavate.
Harshal: Thassalonian artefacts? Well, they're not gong-farming, anyway.
Gillert: Gong-farming?
Harshal: Collecting old nightsoil for gunpowder production. Fine old profession.

The Nightscales have been very clever - the building they're using as a front is also the main collection point for uptown's privy buckets. Hiding the excavated soil and stonework is easy, given all the nightsoil carts that come through the yard here. The carts head out of town to deliver the valuable fertiliser to surrounding farms, and nobody finds out about the digging operation, which is just as well for the Nightscales since everybody remembers what happened the last time somebody delved too far and dug too deep.

Tannis: So, how are we getting in?
GM: There's one entrance that's unguarded. The slide all the nightsoil comes down.
Harshal: Ah. And if we ever need to blackmail Tannis in future, when he's become an actual noble, we can remind him about the day he slid down the shitslide.
Tannis: I'm not going down the shitslide.
Harshal: Oh?
Tannis: No. Ys is.

Given the number of people watching the building - 'sleeping' beggars, suspiciously inefficient street sweepers, and the fairy dozing on the lintel, it's just as well we're a party of sneaking sneakers.

Ys discovers somebody waiting near the bottom of the slide, flicking through a loose-bound pornographic blockprint by the light of a candle-clock.

Harshal: Ah, technology.

The unfortunate porn aficionado is promptly murdered by Ys and Zin.

Harshal: I don't think he needed to DIE for his taste in erotica. Publicly flogged, perhaps.

Harshal narrowly avoids an unfortunate accident getting into the building.

GM: Nearly went face first into an ogre's dingleberry.

The dead guy get dumped down the slide into the waiting nightsoil cart, with the hope enough nightsoil comes down to cover him up before anyone checks.

Harshal: Do we need to make our own contributions?

At least we've found the tunnel entrance. And the tunnels is much more complicated than we expected, wide enough for carts, with sound-baffling turns, workers camps for the Kobold slaves, and scorched mud-and-shit ceilings.

Harshal: Let me guess - they're burning dried shit as fuel? They've got plenty of it.
GM: Nope - they've got a use for that. *points to ceiling*

This explains a rumour about a 'black market' we heard, too - it's certainly going to be big enough for a market. There's a number of Nightscales guards about the place too - some with scourges to use on the brutalised kobolds.

Nightscale: Break! Taskmaster! On high!
High Taskmaster: This one! No buckets spilled, no matter how I tried to trip him. Quick on his feet. I like that. *throws the Kobold a radish*
Nightscale: On low!
Low Taskmaster: This one! Three buckets dropped - a new record. You know the price - you make up the difference. The rest of you get to eat!

At least one of the ten overseers is a Mage. Sneak attacks and stirring up the kobolds seem like the best plan. Tannis doesn't actually know that Zin is really a well-disguised Kobold.

Tannis: Can the Halfling speak Draconic?
GM as Zin: *mutters* Speak it better than you do, smooth-skin

Zin: *sneaks in and whispers* Clanmates! Help is on the way!
Kobolds: *stare at the Kobold-disguised-as-Halfling-disguised-as-gnome* Uhh.... You want us to do anything? We wouldn't mind getting a few hits in.
Zin: Just wait for the signal.
Harshal: The signal will be screaming.

Sneaking into position. Ys is already within arms-length of a taskmaster. Gillert is going to colour-spray the others, and Tannis, Zin and Harshal are going to turn the Mage into a kebab.

Ys: *Whispered prayer* Norgorber hear my prayer - this blood for you.

Tannis: I ready my Vorpal Cudgel.
Harshal: *raises eyebrow* Is that what you call it?

The surprise attack works brilliantly - right up until the mage's familiar, a raven that was resting under the table, flies off cawing in panic. Crap. Ys manages to wing it with a thrown dagger.

Zin: *in Draconic, to the kobolds* Clanmates! Attack!
Tannis: *who also speaks Draconic* ... Wait, what?

Tannis is pulling hidden daggers out of every orifice, Harshal is doing pinhole surgery on people's spleens with his rapier, Zin is pinning people to the wall with his crossbow, and Ys is being sneaky death on two legs. The kobolds turn the raven into nuggets. Then the survivors get their retaliation in. Harshal goes down with a club to the solar plexus. Gillert tries to Acid Splash them and takes mental damage as the spell backfires.

Tannis: Next time don't visualise the spell effect inside your own head.
Harshal OoC: It's 'Acid', not LSD.

Tannis: Lower your weapon or die like your friends!
Thug: *looks intimidated, drops his club, and is torn apart by a mob of Kobold slaves*
Ys: You were right - he didn't die like his friends. He got killed by kobolds.

What to do now? Could we use the tunnel for our own purposes? Inform the authorities about unlicensed archeology? Or collapse the chamber? We now discover that the brutalised Kobold slaves are all bearing the brand of the same Chellaxian trader that owned Zin. So we can leave by the other end of the tunnel, hand the kobolds over to the guards as slaves illegally imported into Magnimar, and let the powers-that-be treat them as a public relations opportunity. Or there's a half-elf alchemist in the Docklands named Iria that's known to take on unusual cases.

GM: She's the kind of alchemist that has stuffed specimens and organs on the shelves.
Harshal: Let's hope that's a crocodile hanging from her ceiling and not a Kobold.

Kobolds: You're taking us all? Even the weak????
All: ....
Tannis: ... Yesssss?

The kobolds start talking animatedly among themselves, invent communism, and start sharing out the moon-radishes equitably.

Harshal OoC: Have those kobolds just invented communism? I sure that will end well.

Some of the loot includes fragments of Thassalonian inscriptions - quite valuable to collectors. And the Mage was reading an elven family's magical workbook, despite not being an elf.

Harshal: Gee, I wonder where he got that - oh wait, the Nightscales are all thieves.

Gillert recognises the Mage from his apprenticeship.

GM: He was the master's favourite. He was the studious one.
Gillert: I became a rogue, he became a douche.

Tannis: We need to collapse this chamber. Hey Gillert, I've heard wizards can cast Acid Splash. I don't know if you can.
Gillert: .... Arsehole.

Iria is very excited.

Iria: Do you realise how little opportunity I've had to study scalykind!
Zin: Please! You have to help them! *whips off his disguise, revealing his species to the rest of the party*
Harshal: Huh. Well then.
Iria: Can I speak to you later about optioning your body after you die?
Gillert: She's one of those people with no filter between brain and mouth, isn't she?
Tannis: You're not dissecting any of them.
Harshal: Or vivisecting.
GM: How did you guess her archetype?

Zin: I'm going to stay with the kobolds overnight.
Harshal: Is that what you call it?
Tannis: ?
Harshal: Kobolds ARE the notorious hornbags of scalykind.
Zin: Well, yes, but then Iria would want to watch.

Emalliandra: Cousin! My friends tell me the thieves guild were busy last night. Apparently the bodies were piling up.
Harshal: I'm surprised they could dig the bodies out that quickly.
GM: No no no - what she's referencing is what happens when there's a leadership spill in a thieves guild. The bodies start piling up.

She's also very interested in the inscriptions, and suspects that's how the Skull Clan got involved. Since the Shoanti are the descendants of the Thassolonian slave-warrior caste, adding such inscriptions and fragments to a Shoanti gravesite adds honour to the late inhabitants. She happily mentions that there are always Shoanti who can be paid to take them away again, and starts making plans to do so. This makes Harshal - Shoanti himself - very uncomfortable, but he doesn't say anything. Either way, she adds extra magical items into our payment, on top of paying for the inscriptions. One of the items is a elf's hand on a chain.

Gillert: ... Well, as long as it wasn't made recently.
GM: It was.
Gillert: ...
Tannis: My family are not nice people.
Gillert: Isn't there a spell that lets elves regrow lost limbs?
Tannis: There's a business idea for you.

There's a boner joke in here somewhere...
 
Man In Skeleton Costume & Two Accomplices Wanted For Stealing Erectile Dysfunction Pills From Alabama Pharmacy

Dumb criminals arrested after renting their meth lab on AIRBnB
 
http://worldnewsdailyreport.com/dumb-criminals-arrested-after-renting-their-meth-lab-on-airbnb/

I friend of mine recently went to a Workshop about making jewelry and ordered some raw minerals home. His mother had to take them from the post office and remarked over the phone:
"That package was heavy. What was in there, lead?"
"Kinda..."

Flux's player: As enjoyable as this conversation is I'm more concerned by the fact the GM has been rolling dice for the last five minutes.
GM: Yeah, I have to roll for all your Hunteds, Rivals,
Hero Shrew's player: Unluck.
GM: Yeah. I which case there's tonight's plot right there.
Flux's player: And it's all self-inflicted.

GM: Hold off on buying a base - I'm going to give you one.
Fireflash's player: ... Why am I suddenly nervous.
GM: It's a base with potential.
All: Oh god.

Registration of superhumans is not enforced, mostly because nobody wants to try and legally define human and superhuman.

Hero Shrew OoC: After all, if they have to register everybody with sonic weapon powers, do they have to sign up every Pistol Shrimp?
Fireflash: And most cetaceans. Then you have chemical attacks.
Redneck: Aw gawd, it's terrorists!
Moreau: I skunked you, asshole.
Redneck: A TERRORIST SKUNK????

This week looks like it will be set in The Zone, an area of Edge City under constant low-level gang warfare, where most of the gangs have low-level superpowers. One gang territory, that controlled by Humanity First, backs onto Edge City's nicer neighbourhoods.

Hero Shrew: Gee, I wonder where THEY get their money from.

Flux has noticed that some of the gangs - the Voodoo Crew and the Spinnerettes - are being quite active in part of The Zone. But all the cameras in that area have mysteriously stopped working, which makes his cyber-magery difficult. Are the Boosters up to something? Or are the Voodoo Crew and the Spinnerettes up to something in Booster territory?

Hardlight: Hey Scooter, can you get off for an hour?
GM: He works at a titty bar/brothel, I'm sure he can get off for an hour. Unless you meant get off work for an hour?
Hardlight: *headdesk*
Flux: Seriously, invent a foot shield for your mouth.

Scooter finishes shaking a troublemaker unconscious, and dumps him headfirst into a dumpster.

Bennie the Bouncer: Not headfirst, Scooter - they can suffocate that way.

Hardlight: ... I really don't want to piss off Fireflash by calling her on a school night.

GM: How do you get from The Zoo to The Zone?
Hero Shrew: Walk up between Chinatown and Victoria to the freeway.
GM: Good idea - they don't like Moreaus in Chinatown.
Hero Shrew: Except when they're using us in Traditional Chinese Medicine.

Flux: Do Moreaus count as livestock on Californian Freeways?
GM: Nah - the Highway Authority avoided the whole problem by counting them as wildlife.

Hardlight: We need to find a Spinnerette and ask them what's going on.
GM: That's easy - look for a hot chick in red.
Hero Shrew: Any bets on what will happen if Hardlight tries to talk to a Spinneret? Anybody?

The Spinnerets are reinforcing the border to stop the trouble in the Booster territory spilling out.

Spinneret: They're having a top-down reshuffle.
Fireflash: A coup-d'état?
GM: Not really, they're...
Hero Shrew OoC: They can't even spell 'French'.

Apparently the Booster's infighting is down to a philosophical disagreement over exactly how one gets augmented. Which given how willing the Boosters are to let anybody implant they with experimental military tech, etc, is a bit laughable. So why haven't the local cops, PRIMUS, or the military locked them up?

Hero Shrew OoC: They're a minor threat and they're containing themselves.
GM: They're mostly a threat to each other.

There are, indeed, running battles in the streets between Boosters. One combatant in particular is gigantically muscled and apparently only has two toes on each foot.

Hardlight OoC: Ah, the wonders of Liefeldian anatomy.

In fact, all the most effective combatants have what look like drug tubing running down their arms. Maybe that's what the argument is about? Especially since the current booster leader - a former commando of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea - has distinctly old-school enhancements. Fireflash recognises the drug-harness technology - it's the same gear Ripper, one of the strongest super-terrorists in the world, uses. This is extremely alarming.

Fireflash: We need to find out where they're getting these chems.
Hero Shrew: We need to tell PRIMUS.
Flux: We need to get a sample.

Fireflash rings Primus and gets their pre-recorded message. Fortunately someone actually picks up in a few minutes. The rest of us are clearly audible in the background.

Hero Shrew: That's gotta sting - she just pulled his arms off.
Hardlight: Ask them if they want a sample.
PRIMUS Op: I didn't just hear that, did I?
Fireflash: No.
PRIMUS Op: Good, because you're not sanctioned.
Hardlight: Hey, I sent in the application forms!

Fireflash: We need to get a sample of that drug.
Hero Shrew: Hey, Hardlight said that! You mean it was actually a good idea? Hang about, I need to adjust some odds.

Hero Shrew's plan to get the one on the motorbike doesn't work, since he recognises Scooter and doesn't go anywhere near him.

Hero Shrew OoC: I'm a bit disgruntled about this - my reputation seems to be working against me for some reason.

GM: First rule of the Speedster - don't go anywhere NEAR the Brick.

Hardlight has more luck - by putting up a forcewall across the road one of the Boosters is running along at superhuman speed. The wall shatters, but the superhuman tumbles on for a few blocks.

Hardlight: Scooter! Sic him!
Fireflash: Shouldn't that be 'Retrieve him?'
Hardlight: Good point.

GM: Congratulations - you caught one.
Hero Shrew: Yay! A plan actually worked. For once.

Flux attempts to hack into the harness control systems, but he's locked out because the harness is the only thing keeping the Booster alive right now.

Hero Shrew: They're killing each other in there.
GM: Actually no.
Hero Shrew: They're dismembering each other in there.
GM: The traditionalists are trying to kill this drug guys, but the drug guys are just having fun.

Every few minutes the guy starts coming around, and Hero Shrew slaps him unconscious again. Do we have anybody we can even hand this guy over to?

Fireflash: Actually, I might - my school counsellor.
Flux: ... OK, I can't wait to hear the logic behind this.

The counsellor question in has numerous contacts himself.

Counsellor: Sonia?
Fireflash: Hey. You know about my... Accident, right?
Counsellor: This something to do about your 'extra-curricular activities'?
Fireflash: Might be. Anyway, where would I take a friend to get their cyber harness and drug systems analysed?
Counsellor: Wait, are you over in Marsden? I'm watching this on the news.

Flying to the university.

Flux: Hardlight is slow. But Fireflash is fast.
GM: ... I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole.
Flux: *headdesk*
Fireflash: It's true though. My mom doesn't know, but I haven't 'Got Any' since the accident. I've got a body temperature of 64 degrees C now.
Hardlight: And the boys are afraid of rug-burn?
Hero Shrew: Then shave.
Flux: We are not having this conversation on the way to the university!
Fireflash: Besides, I don't have body hair anymore.
Hero Shrew: Eh. Some people like that.

The scienticians at the Uni eventually get quite animated and upset about the drug harness effects - for one thing the device and drugs will kill a user within a decade.

Fireflash: We need to kill this.
Flux: Agreed.
Scientist: ... You mean kill this technology, right?
Flux: ..... Yessss, that is what we meant.

Fireflash: We can't handle this. I'm calling PRIMUS.
PRIMUS message: PRIMUS is aware of a second incident in Edge City. All operators are currently busy.
Fireflash: Aw crap.
Hero Shrew: So, what's on the social media?

It's all over the news too - the Dysprosium Dawn gang used the violence in the Zone as a distraction while they raided the Higson Institute of Biotech. Hardlight boosts Hero Shrew's leaping with his own powers, while riding the shrew's shoulders. This is faster than flying himself. And also worth photographing and posting on Facebook.

Flux: Banjo Kazooie to the Rescue!
Hero Shrew: So, what's your blog title? No Flux Given?
Flux: *two thumbs up*

GM: Can you imagine the pool services in Edge City? 'Mummy, there's an alligator in the pool!' 'No Bobby, that's the new pool man'... I need to post to the HERO forum, get some suggestions for jobs for Moreaus.

The Higson Institute is well aflame by the time we get there, but at least the people there recognise us. In fact, they paid the news blimp to NOT broadcast the footage of us kidnapping that unconscious Booster. In return they'd like to know what happened to him and the harness. We oblige. It turns out Dysprosium Dawn were especially after all stocks of Dysprosium at the institute. It's a very useful metal, with all sorts of hitech applications.

GM: The Spinnerets use information, and coercion. And weaponised sexuality.

The situation in the Zone burns itself out, because the drug-harness Boosters are badly outnumbered and simply leave, running all the way up Stompanato Street, out through the biggest gate in the Zone Wall, and into Edge City proper. Shit. Flux settles down to design a spell to track down the stolen dysprosium - all two tonnes of the stuff. Three-quarters of a million dollars-worth.

GM: They stole a truckload of it. A whole truck. You were picturing a bunch of guys on rollers skates going "wheheeheehee" weren't you?
Hardlight: Why the hell did the Higson Institute even HAVE two tonnes of dysprosium???
Hero Shrew OoC: They were making a Dysprosium Dragon.

Hero Shrew: I hope they don't expect us to carry it back.
GM: Why? YOU could carry with one hand without breaking a sweat.

Flux is working with a gramme of the stuff, donated by the institute.

Hero Shrew: 'Keep it as a souvenir'
Fireflash: I guess he's got a mono-gramme.
All: *wince*
GM: It's not fair, I'm the GM, I HAVE to listen to this stuff.

Fireflash gets home to find a offer from Ravenholme Biotech. Which is peculiar, since they do cybernetics. ONLY cybernetics. And whatever Fireflash's condition is, it isn't cybernetic. Hero Shrew sleeps off the all-nighter.

Hero Shrew OoC: You can take bets on whether the string of drool from my muzzle reaches the ground before I inhale it back in again.

Fireflash heads to school.

GM: 'Hey, look, everybody is in class early! Oh, wait *looks up, sees bucket over door* Right.'
Fireflash: Come on guys, again??
Hero Shrew: ?
GM: Bucket of water, and what she wears?

GM: Make a note - you go to Morningside High School.
Fireflash's player: Morningside National? Most US Schools have a second part to the name. Morningside Memorial?
Hero Shrew: Morningside Generic.
GM: Who wouldn't want to go to Northeast West Hollywood Middle School?

Fireflash: The worst thing is that I used to be part of the Geek Clique.
Hardlight: Part of the DnD club?
Fireflash: Pathfinder, thank you - I play a cleric.

Fireflash goes to find out about this Ravensholme thing, with Hardlight for backup just in case. After all, she's underage.

Flux: And she's walked into situations like this before. It's how she got her powers in the first place.

But they won't let him in - his emissions will interfere with their RF sensors. She goes in anyway. It turns out they work closely with the Higson Institute - indeed, the Institute is a subsidiary of Ravensholme. And their cybernetic work might actually be useful for Flux, since dumping excess heat is a problem with cybernetics too. They want to sponsor her career as a superhero, by building her a more modest outfit.

Hero Shrew: But you will have to go around with a Ravensholme logo plastered across your butt.

Flux notices that nearly everybody at the Institute uses a holo-haptic wrist display for their work.

Flux: This might be a problem - I glow.

She heads back down and picks up Hardlight.

Hardlight: So my paranoia wasn't justified, this time.
Hero Shrew OoC: 'They just wanted to make some clones of me, no doubt it will be relevant in future issues'

GM: On you way out you see a small riot outside the Tyrell building.
Hero Shrew's player: What do they do?
GM: Seriously?
Hero Shrew's player: .... Oh, right. Blade Runner.
Flux OoC: AIs and cybernetics.
Hero Shrew OoC: And electric sheep.

Apparently, after the success of the robotic Johnny-cabs, Tyrell has announced the release of a whole line of simple AIs that threaten a large range of professions.

Protesters: Real Jobs For Real People!
GM: And they don't just chant that kind of thing about AIs, either.
Hero Shrew OoC: Just as well I'm not there, hey?

Hero Shrew's Player: 'Advanced Hoard Evaluation'?
Flux's Player: ?
GM: It's an illustration in the Ultimate Skills book - a dragon lying back on his pile of gold and reading a book called 'Advanced Hoard Evaluation'.
Hero Shrew's Player: 'I'm sure I had an Arkenstone around here a minute ago'.

Hero Shrew sleeps through the Prog Grunge Techno Dubstep rehearsal next door.

GM: At least, that's what they say they are this month.
Hero Shrew: *shrug* If annoyed me I'd add a counterpoint by bouncing the fridge on the floor.
Flux: Please tell me you live on the ground floor.
Fireflash: Why?
Flux: So he doesn't putting the fridge through the floor.
GM: Why do you think he's always destitute?
Flux: 'Oh dear, I've killed the little old lady downstairs, time to move'
GM: But you slept through it - apparently they've learned the basics of melody. Only took them four months. Now they just have to settle on a style. They're very popular with the Edge City hipster crowd.
Fireflash: 'I love these guys, you never know what you're going to get'

Hero Shrew's player: It would amuse me if I've been learning Disco dancing in an attempt to impress my romantic interest.

Hardlight drops by Flux's place, disguised as a workman, to check on his progress.

Hardlight: Cable guy!
Flux: *wakes up, blearily* Wha,what? Wait, I'm my cable guy.

Flux: Let me get dressed. *looks down to see he fell asleep still fully clothed* Never mind, done.

He's tracked down the stolen Dysprosium to South Pinnacle, a headland overlooking Monterey Bay. And every other large Dysprosium deposit in North America, since he slightly overdid the spell.

Flux: It's the best I could do on one night and caffeine.

Flux: Where's the wrecking ball?
Hardlight: ... I didn't pick him up.
Flux: *facepalm* He might be useful!
Fireflash: I'll go get him. *calls ahead* Scooter?
Hero Shrew: *deafening rehearsals in the background* YEAH???? *WHOOM WHOOM WHOOM WHOOM*
GM: SKRANGGGGGGGG!!!
Fireflash: Are you busy? Or strangling a cat?

GM: As Fireflash lands, carrying Scooter, Bubo takes notice.
All: ?
GM: The mechanical owl from one of the Harryhausen movies Clash of the Titans.
Hero Shrew OoC: So there's a mechanical owl perched over the freeway watching us?
GM: Yup.
Hero Shrew OoC: OK.... Oh, f**k.
Flux: F***ing mad scientists.
GM: Actually, Bubo has been seen around Monterey Bay for over a century and a half. It keeps looking over at you and down at a particular warehouse.
Hardlight: Blam.
Flux: No, wait!
Hero Shrew: It's on our side, nimrod.
Fireflash: Don't shoot the help!

Hero Shrew OoC: Didn't Harryhausen live around here?
Fireflash: Yup
GM: Thankyou! That's a very useful detail.

The warehouse is full of Dysprosium Dawn. Doing presentations to each other about their latest Mad Science ideas.

Hardlight: OK, them I Blam.
Flux: Wait until we're all in position!
GM: I think he has a power mechanic that transforms Intelligence into Energy Blast.

Hero Shrew: Want me to throw a garbage truck through the wall as a distraction?
Fireflash: Wait for the signal. And preferably something smaller.
Hero Shrew: OK. *tests the weight of some Dumpsters*

Fireflash dives down into the warehouse, punching through the force field they had set up, and does a three-point superhero landing on the stolen truck.

Fireflash: OK guys, party's over! I don't care what else you're doing, but the dysprosium goes home!
Dysprosium Dawn gangers: Oh come on, really! We didn't hurt anybody!
One particular Dys Dawn Ganger: MwahahHaHaHAHa! I shall SHOW you my MechaMorph is the best! *presses a button, and a giant robot assimilates the flame tank and looks pretty damn threatening, actually*
Fireflash: Ok, nice trick. Now for mine.
GM: The rest of you can hear a lot of tearing metal and crashing inside.
Hero Shrew: Was that the signal?

Hardlight: So the rest of us are making grand entrances and Flux sneaks in through a side door.

Fireflash flies around behind the MechaMorph and targets the napalm tank.

Hero Shrew OoC: Oh joy. Why am I suddenly picturing a mushroom cloud of flame over South Pinnacle.

Hardlight: Finally! Melta-missiles! BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM.
Flux: Every CEO needs a hobby.
GM: Whoop! Whoop! Litigation Alert! Litigation Alert!
Hardlight: It's only a machine.... As far as I know.

GM: So you're using Armour Piercing attacks?
Flux: Explosion doesn't help you much against Oh My F**k

The MechaMorph sprouts a force field, reroutes its systems around the current damage, and assimilates a cyberbike fitted with missile launchers.

Fireflash: Um. Help?

Hero Shrew attempts to take out an ankle, and bounces off.

Hero Shrew: Well, I'm annoyed now. I'm famous for the amount of damage I can do... Or was it infamous?

Fireflash charges up for a maximised attack, and drains all the light from the vicinity.

GM: The shadows are getting deeper and deeper. It's like somebody turned the contrast waaaaay down.
Flux: That's actually pretty creepy.
GM: 'I. Am. The Light! In! Darkness!'

Hero Shrew hits it hard enough to jam one of the MechaMorph's claws into it's own leg.

Hero Shrew: I can help with that! *rips the arm off*
Fireflash: You are our god.

The MechaMorph grabs one of the other mad science vehicles, and assimilates the bits into a big fuck-off laser along one limb.

Hardlight: Multiple Variable Refractor Prisms????
Flux: *whimper*

GM: The last time I used the MechaMorph they killed it in the first round. Trawler grabbed it by a leg and beat it to death against the floor.
Hero Shrew: ... I don't remember this.
GM: Yes. Because your team killed it in the first round.

The Dysprosium Dawn gangers are cowering in the corners as the battle tears apart the warehouse.

Dysprosium Dawn: Turn it off!
That Ganger: It's not automatic! They took out the radio on the first attack, I can't tell them to stop!
GM: It's not a robot. It does have two pilots though. I'm good at designing vehicles.
Hardlight: Time to take out Gypsy Failure, then.

Hero Shrew: Robots have balls, don't they? I've seen Transformers.
GM: *glares* Transformers fan here - that movie was a travesty.
Hero Shrew: *shrugs* Trucks have nuts, too.

Ganger: Look at the emitters on that!
Fireflash: Funny, that's what they say about me.

Flux overloads the force field emitters.

That Particular Ganger: NOOO, those took me three months!
Other Gangers: *taking notes*

MechaMorph: HYDRAULIC SYSTEMS ONLINE
Flux: *points at the inventor* You, you sir, are an idiot! No vocal systems! It's like saying FORCE FIELD DOWN.
MechaMorph: *rotating to bring missiles to bear* F**K YOU, ASSHOLE.
Flux: You and I are going to have words later.
That Particular Ganger: It's not illegal to make stuff!
Flux: How about Property Damage?
Hero Shrew: We've done more property damage so far.
Flux: And the flamethrower?
GM: Not illegal in California.
Fireflash: True.
Flux: OK, I'll get back to you once I figure out what you're guilty of.

GM: The Lantern Bearers don't go near Earth - because four of the five animal Lanterns come from here.
Flux OoC: 'If I die, I don't want my Power Ring going to a pigeon.'

GM: I like the idea that Flux's Haymaker attack is less KAMEHAMEHA as frantically stacking sigil and babbling 'Not yet, not yet!'

And then Fireflash's Haymaker takes it out.

Flux: *Frantically collapses his spell again before it goes off* Nononono... Whew.

Four of the gangers piled into an invisible car and escape while we were engaged. The rest are quietly unloading the dysprosium.

Gangers: The truck's ours.
Ganger: And the bike was mine.
Fireflash: That's fine, we only wanted the dysprosium.
Other Ganger: Warehouse is mine.
Fireflash: You'll probably want to wait till the cops get here.
Ganger: That's fair.

On the other hand, the open space underneath the warehouse, revealed by the battle, is news to all of us except the mechanical owl.

GM: WHOOHOO! WHOWHOO!

It's a small anachronistic complex, with glass domes and spools of paper.

Flux: That's a ticker tape machine.
GM: There's five of them.
Fireflash: .... Oh my god. OMIGOD. *starts geeking out*

Because 150 years ago The Mechanist protected California with steam-powered flying armour and other steampunk tech. And we just found ourselves his base.

GM: And the clockwork owl just used you to get those damn kids off its lawn. After all, Bubo didn't want a group of mad scientists finding the museum of super villain trophies down here.
Fireflash: Hardlight, order some concrete. You have a hole to patch.
GM: And a warehouse to buy.

It has a moon pool exit into Monterey Bay, that the Gilmore Tunnel missed by a few feet. It even has a Difference Engine, albeit damaged.

And the California Museum of Superheroes will be delighted too.

GM: HAHAHA, see, it's not just Detroit and New York that have a long history of superheroes!

True, the Dysprosium Dawn leadership escaped.

Flux: They were smart enough to get away.
GM: That's why they're the leadership.

Flux's Player: This was a good session - and Fireflash didn't end up naked!

GM: Yes, I would punch a cripple.

The only context I'm giving you -

Me: He might be a cripple, but he IS an arsehole.

The new Pathfinder campaign is set in Magnimar, a Freeport with a sizeable population of escaped slaves, built around the ruins of a gigantic ocean-spanning bridge. Archeology in Magnimar is strongly discouraged ever since they discovered the bridge was infested with giant man-eating spiders. The party are all various flavours of rogue.

Zin: Kobold trapsmith, escaped slave. Harrow Card - The Locksmith.
Tannis Orbereck: Ethnically Azlanti, human rake, fledgling noble sent out to see if he can do the family proud before can actually inherit the position. Harrow Card - The Tyrant.
Gillert: Varisian, human, eldritch scoundrel. Writer. Harrow Card - The Wanderer.
Ys Danar: Elven cutthroat, former pirate. Harrow Card - Demon's Lantern
Harshal High-seeker: Shoanti investigator and barrister. Harrow Card - The Bear.

Gillert OoC: 'The Wanderer' card has come up four times in a deck of 52. This is mildly disconcerting.

GM: So nobody took basic rogue - you ALL took archetypes. And how many of you have Good alignments?
Gillert: *holds up hand*
All: *pause*
Gillert OoC: Somebody has to be the killjoy.

Harshal OoC: I don't have many of the 'traditional' rogue skills, but if you need legal counsel or a ironclad contract, I'm your man. And if I need anybody stabbed or houses robbed, I've got the rest of you.

The GM mocks the choice of Kobold as PC.

GM: So human, human, Azlanti, and kick-toy. I'm sorry, I thought you want to avoid being the butt monkey of the campaign this time?

GM: Eldritch scoundrels are generally failed wizards. They couldn't keep up with the training because they kept wanting to go out and fun. It's like the difference between Dedicated Martial Artist and Worldly Martial Artist. Dedicated Martial Artists get two schools or a unique. Worldly Martial Artists get one school -
Me: And get laid from time to time.

GM: Somehow I avoided all the 'Let It Go' covers until I saw the movie six months after release.
Me: You never heard Jrska's take on it.
GM: And that is a good thing.
Me: True. Although she DID put her own twist on some of the lyrics.
GM: Maybe, but in her case 'Conceal, don't feel' is good advice.

Zin OoC: I'm not sure what God I should follow.
GM: Be polytheistic.
Harshal: Just burn a candle for whatever God you think pulled your arse out of your fire this time.

Harshal OoC: Gillert keeps autocorrecting to Gillette on this.
GM: *sings* Gillette - the best, a man can geeeettttttttt.
Gillert: *headdesk*

The PCs have all worked together in various combinations before - the pirate was on the ship that was smuggling slaves out of Chilliax. The failed wizard writes the biography of the rake-hell, and provides an unforgable Arcane Mark whenever the barrister needs a witness on contracts.

GM: I am NOT running another Avengers Assemble plot.

Harshal's client, the Chelaxian printer Parvo Crispin, wants a crate moved from the docks to his place of business, without it being seen.

Parvo: Oh, it's not something I'll get in trouble for having.
Harshal: Interesting - I don't get many cases like that.

The item in question isn't illegal, but the thieves guild ARE expecting a large fee for it, which the client would like to avoid.

GM: ... The only ship name I can think of now is 'The Wonderful Fanny'

The chest has come from a city famed for its metalwork.

Harshal OoC: He's importing movable type, isn't he?
GM: *looks innocent*

It can be picked up from a sailor by the name of Razor.

Harshal: And let's hope he hasn't made a side deal with the Guild?
Parvo: Oh, he already has a deal with them. He goes to one dock, one tavern, and one flophouse, and they don't cut his throat.
Harshal: With his own razor, no doubt.
Parvo: I didn't inquire.

The plan is to find out where the guild are loitering today, 'borrow' a handcart, and haul the crate back, avoiding any guild observers, and any city guard that might want to check the tariff stamps on the box.

GM: You're making me break out 'Ultimate Intrigue' already.

Gillert: Maybe we should take a larger, emptier crate and carry the smaller crate inside it?
GM: Nice. Which Harrow card gave you that idea?
Gillert: None, it just came to me.

First hurdle - the ideal crate is in a locked shed behind a spice merchant that always has somebody working nearby.

GM: This plan sounds like it's got way out of hand already.
Harshal OoC: Shadowrun!
All: Yay!

Harshal and Tannis will distract the guy while Zin picks the lock, and Ys and Gillert leg it with the box.

The crate contains a large amount of garlic.

Ys: I have enhanced senses.
Harshal: I guess you'll be pulling the handcart then, instead of pushing it.
GM: Enhanced senses is the main reason elves like subtle spices.

GM: OK, hang on...
Gillert: We're being checked for unlawful garlic.

Razor: Wouldn't have guessed a thin streak of piss like him would have had the stones to try something like this.
Harshal: Yes, it's been an unusual job, that's for sure.

The chest we're picking up is solid Darkwood. And has a very elaborate box. With huge merchant marks on all sides.

Tannis: We're not being paid to be curious.
Ys: Plus we don't want to die.
GM: You've got an addiction you to feed - it's called living.

The chest is also MUCH heavier than we expected. Ys can barely lift it.

Ys: .... OK.. Somebody go steal the handcart.

GM: While you're manhandling the small box into the big one, you notice one of the dock hands slip out the door.
Harshal: Aw, crap.
Ys: We're blown - move it!

GM: Stevedores are very strong, keenly aware that they carry a deadly weapon, and don't like scab labour.
Tannis: Like us.

Tannis and Ys hurriedly change into their disguises, and stagger off with the crate. Right past the three thugs scanning the crowd and checking a piece of paper.

GM: 140 pounds of lead isn't easy to move.
Ys OoC: It IS moveable type - Drhoz was right.
Tannis OoC: I was wondering why you keep trying to calculate the weight of drawers.

GM: The thugs are minor guild muscle - they've been told to look out for a particular chest with a particular mark on it.
Ys: I guess we lucked out going for a larger crate.
GM: Yup. I'm not going to punish my players for a good idea.

GM: And now you know why the thieves' guild tax on it was so high - the tax on boxes you can't open is based on weight. And anything this heavy was probably gold.

We converge at the clients to drop off the chest, collect our fee, and head home to try and scrub off the smell of garlic.

GM: And you've got twenty pounds of garlic.
Harshal: I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with that.
GM: Sell it on the black market. It IS twenty pounds of garlic.
Gillert: How about we sit on the garlic until the heat dies down?
GM: That sounds uncomfortable.

Parvo carries the entire chest with one arm.

Tannis: No wonder he said one person could carry it.

Parvo: Why does it smell of garlic?
Gillert: Vampires.
Parvo: Was there any trouble?
Gillert: Vampires.

Parvo proudly shows off the drawers full of small lead blocks.

Parvo: Gentlemen! And lady! And.. Maybe a lady. Witness the future!

Harshal: I think your friend Razor thought you were smuggling in precious metals.
Parvo: In a way, I was.

For folks looking for an alternative to maps and miniatures for there super hero RPG battles, have a look at what I have been putting together. The following are screen shots of an app that takes the headless version of City Of Heroes, called Icon, and extends it with some functionality to manage fully animated an interactive miniatures on a 3d desktop. 
 
After a couple of months of toil, thought I would show what is starting to be some pretty cool features to extend Icon for machima, role playing games, etc...       Application places a tabletop widget to the side of the desktop   the character explorer allows creating nested crowds of characters that can be linked, cloned and moved like windows explorer.         Single characters or entire crowds can be pasted into an active roster. Multiple characters in the roster can be spawned, locations can be saved, etc with a single command.     Each Character can be given multiple identities, Models or Costumes can be browsed, filtered, and previewed. Identites can activate an animated ability on load       Characters can be associated with multiple animated abilities. A UI provides for associated abilities with a hierarchical structure of FX, movs, and sound, all browseable, with realtime previewing.         Multiple Characters can be activated at a time which causes the active widget to display, active character can be moved, and abilities can be fired from the widget.        Once i get attacks, movements, and scenes done the "desktop" will be done, than Ill move to integrating the hero system RPG ruleset, so all mechanics, knockback, character build are part of the application.   Anyone interested in the application let me know, probably a month away for the first release