Christopher

(In game)

"Well, i'm in. From what he said, we basically just have to get this McMuffin..."
"MacGuffin."
"I'm hungry. Shut up."

Critical Failure on a Seduction check: "Mmmm baby, you taste like dried sweat and too much makeup."
 
---
 
Another campaign ->
 
 
"He's trying to bury the hatchet."
"I know. That's why my back is away from him."

The shadowrunners were an ork/troll group. Against stereotype, they specialized in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
 
Dent: ork, rat shaman
No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer
Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist
Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic
Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems
Happy Jack: troll, combat, disguise, negotiator
Euphoria / Amanda Lockhart (NPC): an A-list simsense star
simsense: a virtual reality entertainment where the viewer experiences the sensations the actor/actress experiences
 
Euphoria, part 2 - Catch and release program
This was the same module previously described by Drhoz (here).
 
Euphoria regained consciousness in one of the team's temporary safehouses in the ork underground. As the "people person" of the team, it was Happy Jack's job to explain the situation to the captive.
 
Happy Jack: "Ms. Lockhart, we have been hired to ensure that you miss your public appearances for the next few days. After that, you'll be returned to your normal life. It may be easiest if you consider this to be a relaxing, though somewhat boring vacation."
Euphoria: (looking around the apartment with wide eyes) "Is this the ork underground?"
Happy Jack: "Yes."
Euphoria: "Oh." (long pause) "I thought it would be bigger."
 
Having accomplished the abduction, Happy Jack went to the apartment (the probable trap) to collect the first half of the team's pay. Eye Spy accompanied him in order to provide overwatch with her drones. To avoid being caught in a trap, Happy Jack disguised himself as a gang member and hid two floors above the apartment.
 
Eye Spy: (over the comm to Jack) "The courier arrived. You won't believe what he looks like."
Happy Jack: "He looks completely out of place."
Eye Spy: "That's an understatement. He looks like a refugee from an 80s' spy movie. He's wearing an oversized hat, an oversized raincoat and oversized sunglasses." (choking back laughter) "Best of all, the hat and coat are BEIGE."
Happy Jack decided to monitor the situation through the wireless microcams Byte Force had planted.
Happy Jack: (over the comm to Eye Spy) "This has gotten even sillier. He's at the door of the apartment stage whispering lines to nursery rhymes like they're some kind of passcode."
Eye Spy: "So, are you going to go say 'Hi' to Mr. Secrent Agent Man?"
Happy Jack: "Nope."
Eye Spy: (suddenly serious) "He has our money."
Happy Jack: "And I'm dressed like a gang member. I'm going to mug him for our money. That way it will look like we're not connected to him."
 
The oversized hat blocked the courier's peripheral vision, allowing Happy Jack to blindside him. Happy Jack left with the team's pay, the courier's personal credstick, the courier's cellphone, and the courier's corporate ID. As Happy Jack and Eye Spy drove away....
 
Happy Jack: (looking at the courier's ID) "As we thought, he's from Ludivenko ..." (pause) "... and he's the mailboy? What kind of idiot sends the mailboy on a black op?"
Happy Jack used the courier's cellphone to call the number the Ludivenko street samurai had provided the team.
Ludivenko street sam: "Hello."
Happy Jack: "Hello. We met the other night. You have serious flaws with your operational security."
Ludivenko street sam: "What went wrong?"
Happy Jack: "Your courier showed up in the most conspicuous outfit possible. He got mugged by a huge troll. The troll got our money, the courier's credstick and the courier's ID."
Ludivenko street sam: "Did the troll get away?"
Happy Jack: "With our money? No. I chased him down." (pause) "I've made certain that the troll won't be talking to anyone about this ... ever. But your courier seems to be a serious operational liability. You might want to plug that leak."
Ludivenko street sam: "You didn't harm the courier, did you?"
Happy Jack: "No. The mugger probably did some damage." (pause) "Your employee is your problem ... unless you want to pay us to get rid of him."
 
Audacity Jane was Euphoria's primary guard. The two of them didn't exactly hit it off.
 
Euphoria: "I'm glad that I'm missing those public appearances. I really didn't want to face all those fans. It's so depressing, seeing all those pathetic fans idolizing me because they don't have lives of their own." (pause) "But I guess you wouldn't know what that's like."
Audacity Jane: "True. My fans have lives."
Euphoria: (in disbelief) "You have fans?"
Audacity Jane: "Sure. Mostly they're fixers or managers at megacorporations. Unlike your fans, mine don't pay me to make public appearances, get naked or do sex scenes. Instead, they pay me to abduct people, steal things and make problems disappear. I have a lot fewer fans than you, but on an individual basis, they pay a lot more for my services."
 
Euphoria also became curious about the farraday cage that the team had built into the walls, ceiling and floor.
 
Euphoria: "Why is there metal covering the walls?"
Dent: "That's to keep the devil rats out of the apartment."
Euphoria: "There are rats in here?!?"
Dent: "No. There are rats out there," (waving vaguely toward the walls) "and the metal makes sure they stay out there."
No-Step: (quietly to the others) "That was mean."
Byte Force: "No. That was brilliant."
No-Step: "Brilliant?"
Byte Force: "Not only did he dissuade her from messing with the farraday cage, he's also given her incentive to stay inside the apartment."
 
As the hours passed, Euphoria began to express her displeasure with the lack of luxury.
 
Euphoria: "I have nothing to wear."
Audacity Jane: "There are several bags of clothes over there. They're your size."
Euphoria: (looking through the bags) "I can't wear these. They're cheap."
Audacity Jane: "You have several choices. Option one, you can keep wearing your current outfit for the next few days. Option two, you can wear the clothes in the bags. Option three, you can prance around the apartment naked. I know which option the testosterone factories in the next room would prefer, but the decision is up to you."
Euphoria: "Fine!"
Euphoria began taking some clothes out of the bag.
Euphoria: (staring pointedly at Jane) "Can I get some privacy?"
Audacity Jane: "No."
Euphoria: "What?"
Audacity Jane: "You're a captive. Captives don't get privacy. But again, you have some options. You can change in front of me. You can change in front of one of your other guards. Or you can skip changing your clothes for the next few days."
 
Audacity Jane couldn't watch Euphoria 24/7, so Happy Jack and Eye Spy were the two alternate guards.
 
Audacity Jane: (to Eye Spy) "Why is Euphoria insisting that she wants anyone except you to guard her?"
Eye Spy: (staring at the floor) "Well, I'm not intimidating like you or Jack, so I thought she would make trouble while I was guarding her."
Audacity Jane: "And...?"
Eye Spy: "So I took one of my drones in the room with me."
Audacity Jane: "And...?"
Eye Spy: "And I set the fire control mode to 'Track Target'."
 
Euphoria also had issues with the food. Specifically, her favorite food (Amber Gel) wasn't available.
 
Eye Spy: "She's a celebrity who actually likes the product she's promoting? That seems unlikely."
Happy Jack: "Especially considering it's a food product sold at Stuffer Shack."
Eye Spy: "Maybe it's successful because they're putting addictive chemicals in it?
Happy Jack: "We may need to go buy some then."
Byte Force: "And run some chemical tests on it."
Happy Jack: "That too. More importantly, we need some around in case our captive starts exhibiting withdrawal symptoms."
 
The Amber Gel turned out to be even more suspicious. When No-Step astrally assenced it, he got a momentary impression that it was swarming with ants.
 
Byte Force: "I expect megacorps to plant bugs in their electronics and software, but this takes it to a whole new dimension."
 
The team had a high degree of professional paranoia. High enough that some "surprises" became planned-for events.
 
No-Step: "Excuse me. Could I have everyone's attention? It's urgent."
A few seconds passed as everyone woke up, tuned in and/or shut up.
No-Step: "Someone is trying to use ritual magick on Euphoria, probably to locate her."
Eye Spy: "Do we need to move to another safehouse?"
No-Step: "That may be premature."
Dent: "It should take some time for them to overcome the protection of our wards. That gives us time."
Eye Spy: "Time to pack?"
Dent: (grinning evilly) "Time for us to backtrack the casting and dish out the astral equivalent of a back-alley beatdown."
 
Less than a day later, Euphoria missed her final public appearance for Strice Foods. The team dropped her off at Megamedia's law offices (which were a safe location for a simsense star, and unlikely to be staked out by anyone looking for her abductors). As promised, the remainder of the team's money was delivered by the Ludivenko street samurai, and not by a member of their mailroom staff.
 
The mission was successfully completed, but there were still unanswered questions about Amber Gel....

The shadowrunners were an ork/troll group. Against stereotype, they specialized in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
 
Dent: ork, rat shaman
No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer
Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist
Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic
Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems
Happy Jack: troll, combat, disguise, negotiator
Mr. Johnson (NPC): generic name used by/for secretive employers who hire shadowrunners
Euphoria / Amanda Lockhart (NPC): an A-list simsense star
simsense: a virtual reality entertainment where the viewer experiences the sensations the actor/actress experiences
 
Euphoria, part 1 - So you want to abduct a simsense star
This was the same module previously described by Drhoz (here).
 
An ork/troll team does not have the benefit of Inkubus' libido to distract a simsense star. Fortunately, they found other options.
 
Mr. Johnson requested a meeting at night, at a little used part of the docks. Happy Jack went to the meeting wearing coveralls, a hard hat and a safety vest. He was met by a too-slick Mr. Johnson, a corporate bodyguard/driver in a cheap kevlar-lined suit, and a leather-clad street samurai.
 
Mr. Johnson: (to Happy Jack) "You're not what I was expecting."
Happy Jack: "You're hiring us, in part, for our ability to blend in. Of the four of us, I'm absolutely certain that I'm the only one who looks like I belong here."
 
Euphoria had been hired to make several appearances to promote Amber Gel for Strice Foods. Mr. Johnson wanted the team to ensure that she missed all of her scheduled appearances.
 
Mr. Johnson: "As part of the deal, no harm comes to the lady. Treat her like royalty. You get half your pay after you abduct her. You get the other half after she misses her final appearance."
Happy Jack: "Just to be clear, you are going to deliver the first half of the money before her first scheduled appearance."
Mr. Johnson: "I suppose that could be arranged."
Happy Jack: "If we don't receive the first half of the money by then, we will arrange for Euphoria to arrive at her first public appearance on time."
 
Mr. Johnson wanted the team to hold Euphoria at an apartment that he was providing.
 
Mr. Johnson: "As I said before, treat her like royalty. Here is a keycard to an apartment in the Barrens. Your first half of the pay will be delivered to you at the apartment."
Happy Jack: "What kind of intrusion countermeasures are there on the apartment?"
Mr. Johnson: "Um ... I'm not sure...."
Happy Jack: (raising an eyebrow) "What rating are the magickal wards on the apartment?"
Mr. Johnson: "I ... uh ... I don't believe there are any."
Happy Jack: "What kind of countermeasures are there to block implanted tracking devices?"
Mr. Johnson: "What? I'm not sure what you're talking about."
Happy Jack: "We'll be holding Euphoria at a location of our choosing. A secure location."
Mr. Johnson: "Okay. But your pay will be delivered to the apartment."
 
The team had been instructed to treat Euphoria "like royalty," but they weren't certain what Mr. Johnson expected. So they visited the apartment in the Barrens to see what level of luxury Mr. Johnson had been planning to provide.
 
Audacity Jane: "The security on this complex is pathetic. Aside from the card key at the apartment door, the only other security was the sleeping guard in the lobby ... and I'm not sure what's going to kill him first: heart failure or old age."
Dent opened the door to the apartment, then abruptly stopped.
Dent: "Brace yourself. I know you make fun of my housekeeping, but this place is bad by my standards."
No-Step: "I didn't think that was possible. Particularly because you don't have housekeeping standards."
No-Step entered the apartment.
No-Step: "I guess I was wrong. Compared to this, even you have standards."
Dent: (looking through the kitchen) "They supplied us with food. All of it seems to be produced by Ludivenko Foods, one of Strice Foods' competitors. Do you think our employers were incompetent enough to leave a clue to their identity, or do you think this is a clever bit of misdirection?"
Eye Spy: (looking through the closet) "They also provided some women's clothing." (looking at the tags) "And it's for an average-sized woman. Who in the hell thinks a simsense star is 'average-sized'?"
No-Step: "I think we can rule out clever misdirection."
Byte Force began hiding a couple wireless microcams at the apartment.
Dent: "Are you planning to record the mating habits of cockroaches?"
Byte Force: "No. I want to see who backtracks our employers to this trap."
 
The team had about 30 hours before Euphoria's first public appearance. As usual, the decker proved an invaluable information-gathering resource.
 
Byte Force: "Euphoria has a personal bodyguard who lives with her full-time. It looks like they recently picked up a second personal bodyguard who also stays on the premises. For the next few days she also has temporary security. Rotating shifts of Knight Errant guards, four guards per shift." (pausing dramatically) "But there's good news. The first shift of Knight Errant guards doesn't start until this evening."
Happy Jack: "So we try to get her before the shift starts. Is there anybody on staff that No-Step and I can impersonate?"
Byte Force: "The building has a rather small staff. They probably know each other well."
Audacity Jane: "We have to assume her personal guard is professional. He should know the building staff too."
Happy Jack: "Are her personal bodyguards hired through Knight Errant?"
Byte Force: "They appear to be independent."
Happy Jack: "So they probably don't know the Knight Errant guards. We capture the first shift of guards before they get to the apartment, then impersonate them."
Audacity Jane: "I like it. Guards don't expect to be targeted when they're not working."
 
Things went according to plan until the team entered the apartment. The second personal bodyguard, who turned out to be a hermetic mage, noticed that there was a lot of magick for four supposedly "mundane" bodyguards. Fortunately, Audacity Jane borrowed a rule from the Han Solo guide to tactics ... she shot first.
 
Removing Euphoria from the premises was even simpler. We put her in a padded box and sent her out with a "courier" (Eye Spy).
 
Happy Jack: (calling the building's concierge) "We have a box in the foyer of Ms. Euphoria's penthouse. A courier will be coming to pick it up shortly."
Concierge: "Where is Mr. Adams? Usually he calls this kind of request in."
Happy Jack: (rolling his eyes) "He's busy pacifying her royal highness. I hope he gets hazard pay for dealing with her."
Concierge: "He does. We don't."
 
After that, the team just killed time until the next shift arrived. They were dropped in the penthouse foyer, largely through the use of neurostun gas grenades which were hidden in the houseplants.
 
No-Step: "I'm never going to trust a ficus after this."
 
With every potential witness drugged and unconscious, the team was back at the safehouse before anyone realized Euphoria was missing.
 
Of course, then the team needed to treat Euphoria "like royalty" for three days. Some jobs are harder than others....

Re: More space news!
 
A tale of playfull satellites:
http://www.gizmag.com/strand2/22752/

Inkubus: I knew a Runner that managed to black out the entire Seattle Metroplex because he went "Oooh, buttons!"
Titus: Never press buttons - never press any buttons! It never ends well

Having somehow, in a feat of inductive reasoning that would make Sherlock Holmes say "Oh come on, now you're just taking the piss", that after Renraku kidnapped Greenlight's brother they've been growing clones of him complete with biochip memories, we consider our next move. Rushing into it will be a very bad idea - Renraku is a ruthless corporation, and it's unlikely that they appreciated us dumping their surviving samurai at a capsule hotel with nothing to wear but "I Love Orcs" t-shirts. But we do get to wait like hungry vultures as Titus calculates how much we can get from selling off their gear and cyberwear (selling off their armour and helicopter will have to wait until we can arrange an auction).

Inkubus got banned from choosing the movies for Movie Night.

Inkubus: 'Barbarella' was my high-class choice. After that it was 'Valley of the B-Girls'.

Inkubus: Did you hear? They've redone The Gigolo - as a Sim-sense.

Our latest client is offering a paltry amount to extract somebody. But we can at least listen before turning him down.

Felix: We can amuse ourselves by doing impersonations of him later.

Mr. Johnson: This will be an easy one for you.
Greenlight: ...uh-huh.
Felix: The moment he said 'This an easy one' I doubled how much we're charging him.
Inkubus: Doubled? I tripled.

He offers us 5000 nuyen each.

Inkubus: Why did you wake me up? That won't even by a bottle of my favourite drink!

Titus: It might another case of 'we can do this this afternoon and then go back to the pub'

Inkubus: I spend a lot of money on Cheerios.
GM: Nobody ever calls then the right name - Nurps.
Inkubus: I meant the cheerleading squad - the Seattle Cheerios XD

Inkubus: Never, never EVER let a troll go Cowgirl.
Warhammer: ?
Inkubus: I don't want to talk about it.
Greenlight: You were very brave.
Inkubus: I had to try it at least once.

As it happens the woman - one Shirley Marquee - that we're supposed to extract works for a Nurps factory. We're supposed to approach her in a plaza park, and give the code-phrase 'We're from the Easter Bunny', then hustle her off to the van.

Inkubus: I'm sorry but I can't make the approach. I'm court-ordered from saying things like that.
Felix: Is it a white van with 'Free Candy' written on the side?
Warhammer: Can I wear a bunny suit?

Greenlight drives the white van provided (the rest of us are too paranoid and follow in the Mystery Mobile) and cross the park to meet her on a bridge. But it turns out Shirley Marquee is drugged to the eyeballs. To quote a famous military figure "It's a trap!" It turns out every civilian in the park is a heavily armed plainclothes operative. And two more squads boil out from kiosks and copses and run forward laying down a hailstorm of angry lead.

Felix: This is why we should have launched the surveillance drone!
Titus: Who have we pissed off enough to arrange this?
Inkubus: Renraku, Aztechnology, Alamos 20K, the great dragon Lofwyr...

On the other hand we're so paranoid we were already in the best positions to react to this kind of thing, almost before it happens. And it's always possible the attackers don't actually know exactly who we are, and we are still obliged to TRY and get Shirley out of here.

Inkubus: We still a job to do. Maybe their security just got lucky and intercepted her plans to escape.

But if they ARE prepared to blow up the white van, it's just as well we turned up with the Mystery Machine, and can lay down our own suppressing fire from an unexpected direction. And, of course, one of Inkubus' Maximised Orgy spells can make for a really memorable afternoon. Titus strolls up behind two of the supposed chessplayers who are now drawing SMGs to fire at Greenlight as she leaps off the bridge into the creek.

Greenlight OoC: 'King me!'
Felix: 'Now kiss!' *miming slamming their heads together*
Inkubus: We see your ambush, and raise you another ambush! And our ambushes are better because we never plan them!

Inkubus: Yeah, no. No, yeah. No. Yeah.
Felix: 'Yeah, no. No, yeah. No. Yeah?'
All: Yeah.

In fact, our pre-emptive counter-attack demoralises them so completely they retreat, and we can complete our extraction before the cops turn up to investigate all this gunfire in downtown Seattle.

Greenlight: Hello drugged lady, lets get you out of hear.

Titus: The best escort missions are when you can taze the client and say 'Good. Now get in the bag.'

We make our way to the drop-off, our Watcher spirits reporting nothing amiss.That goes without incident, and we return to the bar for payment. Warhammer goes around the back way, in case THIS is a trap.

Greenlight: No-one will care that you stink of booze if you jump over the bar.

But apparently the Johnson genuinely had no idea the ambush was going to happen. And as the bagman in this deal, he can't tell us who DID know about it.

Mr. Johnson: Sorry about that.
Felix: At least some of the security team enjoyed themselves.
Inkubus: I do try to spread a little joy in the world.

Of course at this point the GM headdesks, because by leaving the white van, and succeeding in the extraction, means we miss two important plot hooks. Inkubus books an evening at Cobalt Marie for himself and Miss Winter, the client from the Dreamchipper case. Of course he has to do it under his own name (and there wont be a table free for weeks, anyway).

Inkubus: Felix knows my real name - I had to put it on the lease - but I've told him if he ever tells anybody I'll hit him an Orgasm spell and mainline caffeine to keep it running all night.

Inkubus wants to learn the spell Shockwave, so he can make people loose control of their bodily functions.

Felix: Brown Note
Greenlight: What was it Soundwave said? 'Large Butts preferred. Lying Impossible.'

But his date won't be for weeks, so he spends the night at the Convenience Store, a nightclub. The bouncer is dressed as a greeter.

Bouncer: Welcome to the Convenience Store. We love you. Welcome to the Convenience Store. We love you. No Shirt? No shoes? No problem.

Inkubus is promptly seduced by a statuesque brunette by the name of Ariel.

Greenlight: The next time somebody is described as statuesque they'd better be be a statue!
Felix: And have no arms.

Greenlight: When you say she's coming on hard...
Inkubus: She's a squirter, apparently.
Warhammer: Clean-up to Aisle Four.

And, of course, she's a trap too. Inkubus wakes up naked, hungover, and drugged in a concrete cell. And the drug he's been given makes it impossible to cast magic and get himself out, even though he knows the spell Detox. And it might be a week before the others even start wondering where he got to.

Inkubus: They really kidnapped the wrong one.
Kidnapper: Why haven't your friends come looking for you yet?
Inkubus: Have you got more of that hallucinogen? It's trippy.
Greenlight OoC: He's tied up and being stuffed to the gills on drugs.
Inkubus OoC: Sounds like my version of a day spa.

His kidnappers unlock the door and cover him with assorted firearms, ordering him to not try anything. He declines to oblige, and manages to cast Hot Potato. All the metal they're holding suddenly feels red hot.

Felix OoC: And do any of them have Prince Alberts?
Greenlight OoC: Everywhere he goes people just tear their clothes off in front of him.

But they still manage to fire some warning shots.

Kidnapper: He can still cast - give him another dose!
Inkubus: Please! This stuff would go gangbusters on the club scene.

The kidnappers threaten to shoot him. Inkubus points out that if they wanted him dead he already would be.

Inkubus: I DO do this for a living, you know.

So they pistol-whip him unconscious instead, and he comes around in the lab of one Doctor What.

Dr What: And how are you today?
Inkubus: A little out of it. And your guards have no sense of humour.

What hooks him up with electrodes.Inkubus tries to pretend he's enjoying it.

Inkubus: I've done this! It's fun!

Inkubus: Please! I've been to BDSM parties more extreme than this.

He's got an ulterior motive. Endophins bond really well to toxins (or rather, block them) so the more pain, the less the hallucinogen is affecting him.

Inkubus: And then I can get a message to Felix - HEEEEEEEEELLLLLPPPPPP.

Felix: Where IS Inkubus? I'd have expected at least an SMS by now. It's Movie Night!
Greenlight: That SOB better be watching Sailor Moon with us.

What starts asking pertaining to that manuscript we stole last year.

Inkubus: Torture is a really stupid way to extract information. And I don't talk to stupid people. Now give me more volts - I wanna see if I can paint the ceiling this time.

He manages to get a Watcher Spirit out to Felix.

Spirit: Message Begins: I'm being tortured and interrogated by an idiot! HELLLLPPP! Message Ends.

Inkubus is being held in a cliff-top bungalow that used to a UCAS listening station.

Inkubus OoC: For some reason they thought Canada was a threat. Go figure.

Happily, Warhammer's government and military contacts have all the details of its construction. And it being cliff-top, it's good excuse to use the boat again. Greenlight swims ashore under cover of darkness and gets to work. Hopefully our lack of an Air Spirit for concealment won't cause us any problems.

Greenlight: I'm going to find Dr What then I'm sticking this shock-baton up his arse.
Felix: What DOES seem quite fond of electric shocks.
Inkubus OoC: I've got plans for What - Orgasm : Permanent.

At least the guards around the building are hilariously ill-prepared for Greenlight's ruthenium fibre cloak and Mad Ninja Skillz.

Inkubus: Oh god. These guys are bargain bin. Low-end mercs out of the African Wars.
Felix: The kind of person who watched too much Mad Max as a child and read Soldier of Fortune.
Inkubus: No, that assumes they had access to television and know how to read.

Greenlight's shock-batons ensure they do the Dance of the Electric Cockroach, and calls in the rest of the team. Our boat roars towards the shore.

Labrat: I don't need to go swimming, I had a bath last week.
Inkubus: This is why I don't go pub-crawling with him more often. I had a girl for breakfast, a girl for lunch, a girl for dinner. So why does he hang out with me? Leftovers.

We storm the building - now we're in the building gunfire won't attract so much attention from the police - which would have arrived promptly given the average income in this part of town. Titus kicks his way into Inkubus' cell. Greenlight corners Dr What, holds out the end of his shock-baton, and uses Commanding Voice.

Greenlight: Here, hold this.
Dr What: *confused, does so, and dances the Dance of the Electric Cockroach*
Greenlight: Thanks

Inkubus is chained to his chair, covered in his own fluids.

Titus: Bubbles, you know Sterilise right? *sigh* well, at least I can get my armour professionally cleaned.

Inkubus grins horribly at our captive torturer.

Inkubus: You and I are going to have a lot of fun together!

Warhammer uses White Phosphorus grenades on the surviving mercs.

Inkubus: And they call ME evil.
Felix: It sends a message to the next group that kidnaps one of us.
Inkubus: Mess with us and we will BURN YOUR SHIT TO THE GROUND.
Greenlight: I like this message.

To our very great relief, the inferno does NOT set the building's armoury on fire. Not least because Inkubus's stuff is in the armoury.

Inkubus: You're carrying hand-held WP grenades AND launched? Do me a favour - next time there's a fire fight, make sure you're on the next continent.

Inkubus OoC: There's the Holy Trinity weapon used by the Sisters of Battle. Combi bolter-melta.
Felix OoC: With strap-on one-shot Flamer.
Warhammer OoC: Unless it explodes on you.
Felix OoC: That's Plasma weapons.
Warhammer OoC: Oh right - meltas are the safe ones.
All: For a certain value of 'safe'

Felix OoC: And the GM wanders off to try and salvage the adventure again.
Warhammer OoC: He does that a lot.

We loot the armoury and depart (weighed down under the sheer weight of stuff and duffle-bags of more stuff). Only to find Inkubus' seducer waiting on the prow of our boat. And she's a fearsomely powerful Free Air Spirit. But Warhammer has a fearsomely powerful gun and the battle appears to over in less than a second, and one shot.

GM: Deskflip.
Warhammer: Actually her vanishing like that scares me more than a drawn out fight.

He's right to be concerned. There is nothing to stop such a powerful spirit returning from the elemental planes seeking revenge.

Inkubus: There's only one way to deal with this.
Greenlight: Toga Party.

We're going to have to go into the Elemental Plane of Air to find her True Name, then summon her, and bind her, to stop her coming after us. And if Inkubus uses the Life Pact, he can swear to never command her, and she can never be Bound by anybody else, and he'll never age. Everybody wins! Assuming we survive the Plane of Air and can actually bind her.

Warhammer OoC: This was a good game - it had everything in it.
Felix: Something for all of us to do, a set-up for next session...
Warhammer: And we screwed over the GM repeatedly.

GM: Everyone gets a 'Derail the Adventure' Karma point.
 

Wherein the warband has a slight problem in their plan to capture an Imperial and Severian commander and sacrifice them both to the Ruinous Powers - the Imperial commander has done a runner. And the Imperial psyker that might have told us where he's gone got his head blown off by the loyalist Commissar. True, Cassius could just eat the remnants of the psyker's brain and digest the info that way, but the precision of such techniques is questionable, even assuming his Space Marine enhancements still work, now that Cassius is a Daemon Prince. And Johanna, the Sister of Pain, had her leg shattered by Cassius after her paranoia caused this entire problem. Just as well Cassius telekinetically forces the shredded tissue to knit back together afterwards - Johanna is still useul to him.

Jrska has a word with the surviving Imperial officers - she's going to given them a chance to die spectacularly. She has Aladar drench them all in promethium, and informs them they can either run off towards the Imperial forces as cannon fodder, or she'll let Aladar set them on fire. One of them tries to cut his own throat, but Jrska prevents this and has Aladar turn him into a roman candle instead.

Cassius has the base's cogitators interrogated.

Cog: By the power of the Lord High Google, what do you know, machine spirit?

Tech-support spirit (which for some reason has an Indian accent): Hello, you have reached the Adminstratum, how may I help you?

Cassius analyses the enemy's deployment and tactics. Evidently the Imperial Guard storming the Starfort are siege specialists.

Cassius: You'll be amazed what uses you can put sand-bags to.
Jrska: Enough sand-bags and you don't even need latrines.

Cassius: How would they react to something nasty shoved up their rear?

The nasty being us, attacking the Imperial troops from behind their own lines. Cassius determines the best way to confuse and disrupt the Imperial forces - using those codes we lifted earlier, we broadcast the following to the units and approaching fleet.

Cog: Inquisitorial Agents confirmed aboard. We were betrayed from within. Moving deeper into Starfort.

Then he has the Chains of Judgement open fire on the docking arm, and we move to ambush the troops as they redeploy. A pity the Imperials managed to destroy our Deamonengine Stormfarrow, but at least he had fun melting Imperials into puddles of shrieking protoplasm beforehand. The bombardment causes the artificial gravity to fail.

Jrska: Pity my Kingfisher Girls can't actually fly.
Cassius: I grab Jrska - I can't trust you to behave yourself if the others grab you. Not an inaccurate assessment.
Jrska: True
GM: You leave the Kingfisher Girls bobbing around in mid-air. They'll probably come back with interesting tales of things to do in zero-gee.
Cog: They haven't done that already? Jrska, what kind of Slaneesh cult leader are you?
Cassius: Haven't you seen the opening of Barbarella?
GM: Well, you are going to leave them to their own devices for an hour - they'll reinvent it out of sheer boredom.
Cassius: You tell them to sit and make daisy chains and they do something entirely different.

We wait until we spot which of the advancing tanks is equipped with command antenna. Annoyingly, they spot us before we can descend on them in a ravening mass. Something must have made them a little paranoid. I wonder what? Nonetheless, Cassius rips the hatch off the command tank and feels around inside for the target. Johanna sets another tank alight, Aladar leaps down from concealment, goes incorporeal, and rematerialises INSIDE one of the vehicles and blazes away with his lascannon. True, the tank explodes with him inside it, but his power armour and indomitable idiocy conspire to keep him alive.

Cassius: Nurgle is smiling on him.
Jrska: He's too stupid to die.

Jrska drops a flash grenade and manages to blind at least one tank crew - that should reduce the chance of Cassius being blown off the roof of the lead tank. Cog's graviton gun wrecks the suspension of another, which later implodes under its own increased weight. Cassius plays Barrel of Monkeys with the command tank, pulling the commander out despite the two crew members hanging onto his legs.

Cog: Now is the time to leave.
Cassius: Well, I'm not stopping you if you want to have fun.

But if Cassius goes off to cast the ritual himself, he gets all the reward from the Chaos Gods. And besides, he needs Jrska, and Cog's poisoned knives, to con the rival commanders into killing each other. Even if that does cost Cassius his new squeaky toy.

Cog: I'm picturing Jrska launching into a musical number during an important meeting. Happy Birthday, perhaps.
Jrska: *croons* Happy Biiiirthdaaay
Cassius: Argh! *covers ears*
Jrska: .... Mister Daemon Prince...

Cassius psychically Deludes his captive.

Cassius: Relax General - I'm just giving you a chance to take this station for the Imperium. (Of course, I'm not saying it's a GOOD chance)

Indeed, with Delude he can talk BOTH commanders into cooperating.

Cassius: Gentlemen - I give you my word. Whichever of you survives this fight to the death, I will turn my attention upon the forces of your enemy. And regardless of the result, my intention is to return to the Screaming Vortex.

Helpfully, this is all true. He intends to wipe BOTH sides out after we take the Starfort into the Vortex and build a Black Crusade. True, Jrska is a bit put out - she was going to whisper to both and tell them that their allies were poised to rescue them, after they disrupt their captive's plans by killing their opposite number, and slip them both a poisoned knife. But this way the poisoned knives get used, at least, which should make Cog pleased with his handiwork.

Cassius: Actually, Cog is my most trusted advisor. He doesn't have the GUILE to betray me.

Jrska won't be much use in the summoning and binding of the Leviathan, but she still wants to be there.

Jrska: I'll just be holding the candles - or doing something with the candles, anyway.

Jrska: I'll wager 400 quatloos on the big one.

One of the commanders survives the knife fight long enough to realise we're all grinning. Cassius checks his watch.

Cassius: Wait for it, wait for it.... feeling a little weak?
Imperial Commander: ... Yes?
Cassius: They were poisoned blades.
Imperial Commander: You... lying... bas... tard! *expires*
Cassius: Chaos. And daemon prince of Tzeentch, master of betrayal.

As the Leviathan emerges from the Warp to engulf the Starfort, we perceive it crunching the Imperial fleet between its teeth in passing, and destroying a vital Severian agriworld with corrupting bowshock. Then the warpsmith's psionic harpoon sink into the beast's unholy flesh and we're all dragged off on a Nantucket Sleighride across the Warp, until we can steer it into the Vortex and it's so exhausted it can be bound into the metal of its attempted meal.

True, chasing after the Imperial commander left us so pressed for time that Aladar, Jrska and Cog all fail our personal objectives in this Compact, but we've all gathered extreme Infamy and Corruption for what we DID achieve. Jrska, for example, gets a second Deamon Weapon - her whip Paintongue would get jealous if she started using a second melee weapon, so her Plasma pistol, already suspiciously phallic in outline, is now unbelievably perverse.

Jrska: I assume that does nothing for its refractory period.

Her pistol is now called Doom-granter.

GM: There's a lot of doom in this party. Maybe I should sing the Doom Song.
All: Doomdoomdoomdidoomdoomdoom.

Tzeentch is so pleased with our efforts on his behalf that he rewards Cog with some new psionic lobes to his cybernetic brain. This should be useful. And with yet more psychic boons from his patron Tzeentch, Cassius is now well-and-truly an Alpha-level Threat to the Imperium. After all, his theoretical psychic level is 28. And powerful human psykers are levels 4 or 5.

Cassius: And this is why psykers turn to Chaos.

We can expect major resistance from the Imperium, once we've finished consolidating our powerbase in the Screaming Vortex.

Jrska: You do realise we'll be facing Grey Knight Terminators the next time we invade the Imperium?
Cassius: Yes. Bring it on.
Cog: I want their armour.

Cassius' thrall-wizard survives being tapped for yet more power.

Thrall: Ooooaaggh, it hurts... so... good!
Cassius: Jrska has had her influence.

Cassius also wants a Thousand Sons Space Marine as a minion.

Cassius: The ultimate sign that you've Made It as a psyker.

Cassius: He's just been standing in a broom cupboard all this time. And then he felt me.

Cassius: I really wanted him as a minion that Jrska can't seduce.
GM: Are there any holes in his armour?

From Bunneh's saturday night game during the recap from the previous sessions:
 
GM: The part split up to search for clues
Player: We Scooby Doo'd the sh-- out that.

Black Crusade: In which episode, the warband have found themselves at the gates of a cookie cutter Imperial forces fortress, here to catch an Imperial Commander. Play begins with general discussion about tactics, though any thoughts of stealth go out the window as we simply assault a turret-defended doorway.

Alas, I was too ill to pay much attention to the game – indeed; I was Skyping in rather than risk infecting everybody – But Steve, the GM, did record the events of the session as follows.
 
***

Lord Cassius jumped from the elevated gantry, his wings unfolding from his back with snap, shock waves of energy chasing the rustled air, leaving geometrical impossibilities as phantom images. Dark power lanced from his shrouded fingers, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of colour flashed into being for the barest moment as it impacted into the mantelet of one of the turrets. In an instant the angled plasteel twisted and warped, its very nature shifting allowing the energy further within. The turret didn’t explode but the damage done would be irreversible as the mechanical nature of the servitor gun became organic then... something else.

Behind Cassius's massive form sprung the lost scion Aladar, his regal coat billowing over his gilded power armour and mechanoid body. The roar of his jump pack almost drowned out by the massive discharge of energy emanating from the lascannon 'Big Bertha', tendrils of corrupt energy boring straight through the thick armour of the Imperial HQ missile battery, setting its munitions ablaze with a powerful blast.

The Princess of pain and pleasure, Jrska, moves with full regalia to the railing, her entourage gleefully soaking up her image and the carnage below. Her shrill laughter echoes throughout the massive hallway of the stations docking arm, as she taunts the Imperial fools.

With astounding speed, the mad angel Johanna dives towards the main doors of the complex her inferno pistol making short work of the locking mechanisms and the guardsman on the other side, his desire for destruction frustratingly stalled by the thick bunker door. A hand darting out of a stained red cloak appears over the newly formed hole in the door, the sound of a bouncing grenade, then the billow of smoke choking the lungs of those inside, the indescribable laughter of the missing Cog echoing from a red hood.

Now coming to bear on the new threats the autocannon turrets open up upon the cloaked figure of Cassius. Rounds that would split mortal marines in half merely tear small clumps from his flesh-fused armour and as quickly as they appear, they vanish. Leaving the turrets to Aladar to toy with, Cassius tears the weakened doors from their reinforced hinges, while Johanna throws Jrska out of the way of the retaliatory gun fire. The stormtroopers facing the warband are some of the Imperium’s best and brightest, armed with overcharged las-weapons and armour that nearly matches the legendary power armour of the Adeptus Astartes. This does nothing to save them from the concentrated efforts of Cog, Johanna and Cassius.

After the smoke billows out of the twisted and burnt remains of the Imperial choke point, Jrska spies a number of Imperials fleeing through the opposite side of the building; calling to one of the flying members of the warband to intercept them, she splits from her entourage telling them to stop anyone on the left side as she rushes to the right. Johanna took up the call, dodging the remaining auto cannon fire as she flew over the top of the HQ, shells whistling through the space she occupied mere moments before. There she spied a man matching the commander’s description fleeing with a bunch of other Imperial officers/ staff. After refusing to stop at Johanna challenge, he stops at the second challenge after she liquefies the man next to him with her melta pistol.

Back at the original door, Cassius tries to move further into the buildings before remembering he is the size of a main battle tank; face pressed to the ceiling he sees with his enhanced witchsight the Imperial commanders’ pet psyker and the brief outline of a bolt gun to its head, presumably a Commissar.

As Johanna brings the petrified commander back to Cassius, Cog moves further into the complex sabotaging Imperial equipment with glee, his plasma pistols burning bright as they destroy the remaining turrets’ ammo feeds.

Meanwhile Jrska is cackling with joy as she starts flaying another group of Imperials fleeing out the side door while her minions take care of the group on the other side. They soon realise that this is a losing battle, the commander must be kept alive, Cassius is the only one who can discern his identity quick enough and while Johanna captured someone who matches the commander’s description, it’s not a certainty; he may still be inside or in one of the fleeing crowds and with so many Imperials escaping the warband is hard-pressed to take them all captive.

After extracting himself from the low-slung bunker, Cassius stares down at the snivelling remains of the man Johanna brought him. Even with the memories he stole from the sergeant that foolishly attacked him earlier in the day, he cannot be certain this is the commander , and so his swings his full psychic might down on the man, drilling through the pitiful mental defences before being rewarded with a brief memory of the Imperial psyker implanting a mental trip mine into the lackey’s head. A trip mine that then goes off; haemorrhaging the brain matter of the Imperial and the demonic Cassius ; any lesser person or even daemon would be in serious trouble from this, but Cassius manages to shrug it off after a short but painful migraine. Roaring in frustration he yells at Johanna and Cog to take the psyker alive. Johanna, a former Sister of battle, one whose role was once to hunt down the psychic menace, leaps with joy into the HQ bunker, her wings pressed to her back in the tight space but neither the less with a speed that would leave an Eldar warrior hard pressed to match. Cog for his part already has the second level door hacked and opened by the time Cassius has made his demands.

Once just a simple ceramite pole used to support a banner; the haft of Doomwind, Cassius’s psychically resonating banner, easily carves through the outer wall of the bunker - allowing Cassius to stun the now revealed Commissar with a quick psychic blast.

Freed from the Commissar’s mercy killing, but now at the mercy of daemons, the psyker engulfs the open stairwell with a wave of fire singeing the few weak points in Cog and Johanna’s armour; Johanna retaliates, diving over the crispy consoles and drawing her power-sword swinging it in a quick arc towards the psykers head, flat side first. Fortunate for the psyker. More fortunate still, the psyker rolls away from the blow dodging even before the attack was begun, and engulfs himself in pyrokinetic flame, scaring the ground around him but harmlessly passing over his skin and equipment; with her empty hand Johanna strikes through the flame stunning the psyker but seriously burning her arm as the psychic energy rolls straight past her armoured gauntlet.

Meanwhile Cassius psychically drags the dazed form of the commissar closer to the hole in the hope of scouring his mind for information but the commissar awakens and quickly rolls free of Cassius’s reach; with speed the commissar takes the situation in, activates his power-field and levels his bolt pistol - at the psyker.

Guessing his intentions Johanna puts herself in the way of the bolt shell, her armour barely deflecting the deadly damage, before charging the commissar. Cog moves to guard the stunned psyker while blazing away at the Commissar, but with the Emperors luck all of Johanna’s attacks and Cog’s plasma shots slide off the sparking power-field. With inhuman speed Johanna leaps back from the attack and blocks the next bolter shots with her own field, the twisted spikes of the infernal Iron Star device glowing with energy.

Unable to directly interfere in the battle without hitting those he wishes not dead, Cassius sees the psyker regaining consciousness. He mentally commands Johanna to not stun the psyker again and to finish off the Commissar. Johanna for her part also notices the psyker - but doubt plays with her paranoia and the idea that the psyker sent the message to trick them causes her momentary pause.

Going with the arguably safer option she nails the psyker with a quick kick, causing him to double over in pain. Frustration and fury with a disobedient minion fuels Cassius’s attack as he telekinetically blasts Johanna into the far wall, shattering her leg. The Commissar sees his chance and shoots at the psyker again, Cog dives to intercept but without Johanna’s speed he is unable to stop the bolt shell from turning the psykers head into pulp. Turning off his power field the Commissar turns to face the enraged daemon prince, a victorious smile spread across his face as the psychic bolt annihilates him and the last remaining way to easily locate the Imperial Commander.
 
***
However, I did record a few quotes before I had to lie down, and Cog’s player got more. While posing one leg up on the railing...

Jrska: Another panty shot – fan service!

Johanna: *pulls Jrska into cover*. Unless she’s resisting for some reason?
Jrska: Hardly – you dragged off to some secluded position? Me likey.

After Cassius melts the Imperial defences

Cog: Do you do parties?
Cassius: Sure. How about your funeral?

Mid-way through the fight. Discussion: Can Cassius be used for cover?

Cog OOC: We'll need to get Cassius to close his legs
All: *titter*
Cog OOC: To provide full cover

As people are whizzing around on jetpacks, and the risk of jetpack and wings overheating this gem comes out.

Cassius OOC: Give Jrska some body oil and enough time and she'll make your wings overheat.

Cassius giving the order to kill the commissar, but leave the Imperial psyker alive.

Cassius: I do not give a rat’s left testicle about the commissar, have fun.

Cog, grateful to have avoided the paranoia-driven decision that cost Joanna a kneecap.

Cog OOC: *offers prayer* Thank you to whatever god gave me lower initiative than everyone else.

Next Episode: Healing up and flushing out a sneaky commander, can our intrepid 'heroes' flush him out in time for the deadline or will they have to settle for a daemon station right here and fight their way out through an armada of ships? Maybe, Maybe not

A few more sessions of that D&D game, where all the PCs are gnolls, bat-men, panda-kin, etc. It's one of those games. Speaking of games, go have a look at Paul Kidd's new GeneStorm RPG on Indiegogo - it's looking SWEEEET

Clearing out the rest of the old wizard's tower, after slaughtering the aforementioned old wizard and most of his minions. But if there IS anybody left down here, we might as well stake a claim on the moral high ground. Vitus shouts to any hypothetical listeners.

Vitus: Surrender now and there's a chance we will spare you life. Resist, and we'll probably kill you for wasting our time. Got that? And if you REALLY annoy us we'll cripple you then drown you in the pit of liquified undead bugbear.

Laudigan: Is that a room over there?
Vitus: Apparently.
Laudigan: *crosses his arms wearily.* I don't suppose it's the bathroom, is it?

The blue panda-kin is quite enamoured with the Cloak of Useful Items he loots from the dead wizard.

Adrian Vyn: Ooooh! Ooooh! There's a frigging portable ram in this cloak! and... a window... not sure why we'd need a window... Look at this! There's gems in here... and gold... coffer. Doggies!
Vitus: Obviously it's a cursed cloak of dementation

There is one more person in the dungeon, some kind of white-furred fox-kin or canine creature by the name of Sanmer, who was being prepared for sacrifice. Duly rescued, we head back to town. Vitus is a little uncomfortable with the casual flirtation between the various PCs. Even the bloody familiars are at it, apparently. And they, at least, are both crows. Of course, this could just be Vitus not being in touch with his own attractions again. Just look how badly things went with his concubine, 3.

Vitus: Is it just me or is every non-human on this plane a raving satryomaniac?
Laudigan: Don't look at me - it's a living.

Laudigan walks with a noticeable swagger, mostly to hide the fact that he is swaying with exhaustion as he walks. At least his yawns are incredibly photogenic. But he whimpers softly when Vitus orders a hot bath.

Laudigan: Please.
Vitus: Beat you to it. You'll just have to wait.
Laudigan: Can't I join you, Vitus?
Vitus: *flushes bright red under his fur, stammers, and hurries off*
Laudigan: Vitus, waaait- *tries to get up, but unceremoniously slumps down onto the ground, face-planted* Mnm, oh sweet ground, you've come to meet me, so suddenly.

The bartender wants to know what happened out at the ruins.

Vitus: Foul necromancy, giant monsters, swarms of terrible dire vermin. There's no way they were natural rats. Probably demonic.
Nig Llush, Bartender: You said Necromancy, did ye, wizard? and giant rats? ach, good thing you cleared em out..
Vitus: *suddenly remembering we let the Hob leader get away.* ....yesssss. Cleared them out.

Laudigan: Mmm... you wouldn't happen to have an extra bath, would you? One with perfumed water and rose shampoo? And- *trembles eagerly at the thought* A nice, warm bed?
Nig Llush, Bartender: You've got me best rooms for the night. As for a bath, I can give ye a tub, water, and soap, but ye'll have to find yer own perfume!

The ensuing scenes mostly revolve around the developing rom-com of Vitus and Laudigan. What WOULD that slash pairing be called, anyway? LaudiGnoll? Sounds like a sedative.

GM: Vitus is officially the campaign Butt-monkey. Possibly literally.

Vitus' red-hot embarrassment and hotel-room confusions aside, what now? Especially since it looks like the lightning storm was a distraction to allow the hobs a chance to kidnap villagers. Trying to talk the PCs into doing anything about it is potentially challenging, given our personalities.

Vitus: If we don't end the problem now, the one that got away could come back with all his friends. And even if they aren't planning anything like that, we should at least try to find the missing villagers.
Laudigan: Their leader got away.
Adrian Vyn: So? That's a good thing.
Vitus: We are not farming hobgoblins here. And as far as I know there is no standing bounty to encourage us to start farming them. I would like to point out that at least three of my problems over the years have arisen because I left enemies alive behind me.
Laudigan: I don't like leaving loose ends. And Hob outposts mean money.
Adrian Vyn: Is that so?
Laudigan: Perhaps even a chance at vengeance, considering what they did to Sanmer.
Adrian Vyn: Revenge doesn't end well.
Laudigan: It does when it ends in a hefty sack of loot. Search your feelings, you know them to be Chaotic.
Sanmer: Loot!
Adrian Vyn: We have more than enough money to adventure as we please. We don't need to go put ourselves at danger to....
Sanmer: Speak for yourself
Laudigan: Think of it less as revenge... and more of overdue compensation. Hobs kidnap people, many of them go dead, their belongings end up- ownerless. WE can be those owners.
Vitus: Let me offer a hypothetical - we all go our separate ways, dismissing the hobgoblins and any potential threat they might offer. And in a few years we hear that they DID come back, perhaps empowered by sacrifice of their captives, and did horrible, horrible things to the innocent-if-slightly-dim villagers here. Would any of you feel slightly guilty about that, knowing we had a chance to prevent it, here and now?
Sanmer: Loot! That's all I need to know
Laudigan: And even if you didn't care about these people, here's something to think about... sacrificial rituals aren't exactly done to summon a good barrel of mead. What ever they tried to do to Sanmer was something that was probably going to affect not just this town, but the world. And who of us are unlucky enough to live here? No world, no us. No loot.
Adrian Vyn: I will go if you shut your muzzle, bat.
Laudigan: That's the spirit.

Perhaps we can use some kind of poison to wipe out the hobgoblin encampment. As it happens, the village's bizarrely well-stocked Apothecary is among the kidnapped. We're sure he won't mind us looting his store if it gets him rescued.

Vitus: Even if they have a spellcaster, he'll exhaust all his magic long before he can stop the majority of the tribe puking out their own livers.

Vitus: Ooooh, Destroying Angel AND Foxglove seeds! *rattles ones of the vials and sniffs very cautiously* Metallic arsenic.
Narrator: Rust monster flakes, aluminium, Magnesium oxide...

Vitus opens a lead tube, is briefly illuminated by a green glow, & closes it again.

Vitus: No idea.

However, we soon discover that the biggest threat to the village isn't the Hobs, it's there own damn apothecary. Vitus freezes where he stands, having just opened a magical icebox. There's a canister of FOOF magically suspended in the magically frozen interior. Vitus veeeery slowly closes the icebox again, as if he's afraid it will explode. He is. Being such a planewalker, he recognises the stuff by reputation at least, but to the apothecary it was simply the most volatile explosive thing he could make to use in case something horribly wrong happened with his alchemy or the place was attacked. It would destroy the store and its contents to keep them out of the wrong hands.

Vitus OoC: Seriously??? I thought you were joking!
Narrator: It's the apothecary's secret weapon!
Vitus OoC: it's 'Why Is There A Crater Where Our Village Used To Be', you mean.

Vitus: Well, think of something that will not only explode on contact with anything, including ice, but will poison everything around you if you even survive using it.
Sanmer: Ooookay... lets avoid genocidal poison please
Vitus: You have to keep it frozen. You can't even MAKE it without running the vapours over red hot metal. Do you see the problem?

Laudigan: ...We should board that place up.
Sanmer: I say, lets just skedaddle!
Adrian Vyn: You do realised hammering will send vibrations through the building?
Laudigan: Then build a fence around it or SOMETHING, I don't want that to go off when we're in the vicinity!

Vitus starts to tremble, remembering all that lightning and thunder the other night.

Vitus: Sweet chilli and little puppies, we're lucky we are still ALIVE
Sanmer: I think it's better we debate our options AWAY from super deadly alchemy weapons...

FOOF is unspeakably dangerous but being PCs we immediately wonder about ways to use it to our advantage.

Vitus: And reducing the hob camp to a crater with a bombing run counts as 'advantageous' in my book

Vitus: I wonder if your familiars could carry it - on some sort of fibre. Held between their primaries.

Vitus: Ok then... does anybody have a Bag of Holding? Would the cannister fit inside one of the Metaplanar Bank bags?
GM: I don't think the boss of the bank would rather enjoy an alchemical grenade being dropped onto his gold hoard. XD

Vitus recalls a question he was asked right before he clenched his sphincters tight enough to turn coal into diamonds

Vitus: Oh, right, hostages. Well, I suppose we can mix up something that just puts them to sleep. Although explosive gut-wrenching diarrhea would be easier... Assuming they actually feed themselves and the captives the same food.

Laudigan: I haven't decided what my perform is yet... Perform: Dwarfstep. Perform: Rap battle Perform: Supersonic bat squeaks.
GM: Dwarfstep... DROP DA AXE!
Laudigan: Yeah, sounds like lotsa metal grinding and gears turning, and anvils being hammered.
GM: BWOOWWWM BWOOWWM BWOOWWM BWOOWWWM WUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB

Meanwhile, the group's corvid familiars Torio and Lockheed gabbing and gossiping while they preen.

Lockheed: Don't even get me STARTED on that empathic link- I tell you- Master may be a masochist, but I sure am not!

We track the hobgoblins, and soon come under sniper fire. Adrian puts Ventriloquism to good effect, two inches from the hob's ear, high in a tree.

Adrian Vyn: Boo!

The sniper clings to life, even after Laudigan cuts his throat. This might make interrogation difficult.

Vitus: He can still blink once for yes, twice for no

The Hobgoblin hideout is underground. We nearly fall victim to a spike-filled pitfall trap at the bottom of the first shaft. Vitus saves Laudigan by grabbing him by the pants.

Laudigan: Thank you for catching me, by the way. It would not have been the kind of penetration I'm used to.

The underground complex is considerably larger then we were expecting. And more full of goblinoids.

Vitus: you know, that FOOF would have been really handy right now

GM: But that's just the surroundings. you're probably more interested in the PHALANX of Hobgoblins, shields raised, spears at the ready just waiting for the order to attack. or the second line of archers behind. Or their leader, the Hobgoblin we ran into under the tower ruins, who glares, and thrusts his blade forward, roaring.
Sergeant Korvazz: DESTROY THEM!
Laudigan: Thank you! Your formations are impressive! I must make one request, however- PLEASE NOT MY FACE.

Fortunately, Vitus' Web spell removes their numerical advantage. Unfortunately, that's when an armoured Hobgoblin war-cleric emerges from a far room.

Nok'ral: Perfect. Good JOB, Adventurers! I couldn't have done it better myself!

The hobgoblin turns to the entangled sergeant and soldiers.

GM: Ah, Korvazz.. I meant to do this a little later, after the town had been razed, but alas, these adventurers have given me the perfect opportunity.
Laudigan: Sweet Bahamut, my bardic drama-sense is tingling.
Sergeant Korvazz: What are you talking about? Either let us out or attack the intrud- Wait, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Nok'ral: You will make a fine sacrifice to Gho'Gath, warrior.. May your soul feed his insatiable hunger..!

The cleric then ignites the Web. Korvazz and his archers burn to death remarkably quickly. Their screams echo through the hall, all the while the Cultist Nok'Ral laughs with the most villainous of evil laughs. He then turns towards the party, and says he looks forward to seeing us again when will make even better sacrifices to Gho'Gath the Devourer. Vitus turns to the surviving Hobs

Vitus: I'd run away now, if I were you.

There's a heavy roar from the north. Two roars, in fact..

Hobgoblin Fighter: ...Oh, no..
Laudigan: By the gods, what now... What has he wrought?
GM: As it's technically their turn, the remaining hobgoblins drop their shields, turn and FLEE to the east.

It's two enlarged dire apes, who shouldn't be able to fit in these tunnels, actually.

GM: So, yeah, looked it up. 10x10 square......WHY ARE THESE IN THE BOOK. WHO DESIGNED THIS MODULE?!
Laudigan: I DON'T KNOW. THE PASSAGES AREN'T EVEN BIG ENOUGH

Happily, Greasing the floor of the corridor leaves the apes scrabbling wildly, shoulders jammed into the walls and feet sliding helplessly underneath.

Laudigan: A party member in the other campaign asked 'Why do you have pork rinds in your spell pouch?' 'Grease'. 'Why do you have grease?' 'Lube.'

Unhappily, the apes still have formidable reach, and even after one is killed the other grabs Laudigan. And Vitus is out of everything but 0th-level spells.

Vitus: ....Are these apes male?
GM: Sure, why not? Why?
Vitus: *uses Mage Hand to telekinetically seize the ape's scrotum and TWIST*
GM: Mage Hand only works on unattended items.
Vitus: Really? And how much attention was he giving his balls? I'll allow he's paying attention to them NOW.

After that, decapitating the traumatised ape is a mercy killing.Then there's just releasing the captives, Laudigan seducing a demon-axe, destroying an altar, and trying to decide what to do with a half-dozen goblin slaves.

Vitus: We can't keep them, regardless of how willing they are! We're already a party of non-humans - if we wander around with a pack of goblins they're shoot us on sight!

Shadowrun. June 2052, and we find ourselves mixed up in elven political shenanigans again. At least it makes a change from dragons.

Felix OoC: Purrdence is a Smut Field generator, Inkubus is a Smut Sink.
Inkubus: I collapse the Smut Field. With the Power of the D!
Felix: It's a lightning rod, is it?
Inkubus: I earth out the Smut Field!

Warhammer bemoans the lack of drinking on the trip out to the Puyullup Barrens slums.

Felix: Given how many vehicles use gasohol, these days, is it 'One for the car, one for me, one for the car, one for me'?

Sandii: This is your lucky night - you're going to a party.
Inkubus: *headdesk* And of course I said yes.

Our fixer is very attractive, right up until she flashes the stainless steel razorteeth.

Inkubus: Nope, nope, nope.
Greenlight: Maybe not the effect you were looking for, lady.
Felix: The Anti-Viagra.

The Johnson we're meeting wants to meet at a very noisy Elven nightclub.

Felix: *hums the Mos Eisley Cantina Band tune*
Inkubus: Hey, stop putting Jizz in my ear!

And yes, the Cantina Band's musical style really is called jizz. You have to wonder what the Star Wars writers were thinking, sometimes. Anyway, a club full of elves isn't that unusual - to the disgust of the elf nation Tir Tairngire, most elves has gone pop-culture instead of 'traditional'.

Felix: Not all elves are Galadriel.

As instructed, we mingle until the client comes to us. Greenlight hides in a corner, Titus passes for scenery, Felix bemoans the lack of anything worth ingesting at the bar, Labrat cuts a rug, and Inkubus completely botches his temptation check and promptly becomes the centre of Typhoon Inkubus.

Mr. Johnson: I believe you are the people I am here to meet. Is the rest of your team to hand?
Felix: *sigh and glance at the dance floor where one of the more obscure Hindu gods is apparently having an epileptic seizure.*

GM: How do you do an Elven accent?
Inkubus OoC: Start with Antonio Banderas
Greenlight OoC: And sprinkle with a bit of Paddy McGinty.
Inkubus OoC: As long as McGinty was sober.
Titus OoC: So, dead then.

Inkubus refuses to leave the mosh-pit orgy. Apparently it's a religious thing. Leaving Titus to keep an eye on him, just in case. The rest of us retire to the Elf Johnson's private room. According to the client, the Young Elven Technologists policlub have been doing naughty stuff. Felix's conspiracy dabblings ring a bell at this point, and he swears internally, because the YET policlub has links to Ehran the Scribe, the allegedly immortal author of that manuscript we stole, and an associate of that Scots elf Quicksilver. To avoid political embarrassment somewhere on the Watergate Scale - or possibly ensure it - we need to steal some data. A problem, since none of us are hackers.

Felix: If we walk off with their mainframe, they'll probably notice.

But we can at least call in some friends. Now all we need are passcodes, access to the suite that Ehran the Scribe will be using on his upcoming visit to Seattle, and hack a company from the club and incriminate the Y.E.T.

Titus: This guy is terrible at operational security - the entire team he just hired are in the damn building he wants a Run on.
Felix: He's probably relying on the idea 'It can't have been them, they walked right in here.'
Greenlight: Refuge in f**king audacity.
Felix: 'No shadowrunner would be so stupid as to start an orgy on the dance floor DURING A RUN.'
Inkubus: Speaking of which, I failed that temptation check too.
Felix: *facepalm*

Labrat calls in the assistance of his Korean hacker friend Kimchi. And while she's at it, we try to ID the Johnson. His facial scars, that look like he tried to make out with a kitchen blender, should help there. At least whatever we do, it's going to be hard to distract people's attention from Inkubus on the dance floor. Greenlight leaves the club, and returns disguised as an elf.

Inkubus OoC: I hope I recognise her.
Greenlight: I'm not going NEAR the dance floor.

Greenlight bluffs her way past the bouncers and into the policlub levels.

GM: What are you waving?
Greenlight: Fake security pass.
GM: Oh, I thought it was your stun-baton.
Felix: Admittedly a stun-baton is ALMOST as good for getting you into a secure area as an actual pass.

Felix tells Inkubus what the rest of the team are up to, including Greenlight's disguise.

Felix: Watch out for an elf in a blue dress.
Inkubus: Is she cute? Should I try and chat her up?
Felix: ..... *pokerface* Why yes! She is! You do that!
Inkubus OoC: You bastard.

Alas, Inkubus sees through Felix' deception.

Inkubus: You know, you're awfully eager about this. Usually you're the first one trying to shut me down.

Greenlight: Do you want to go get a drink with me at the bar?
Security: I can't leave my post
Greenlight: Pleasepleasepleaseplease?

Kimchi and the orc Labrat get caught in the server room.

Felix: Are you going to need help removing that guard's memories?
Warhammer: I'm going to remove the guard. *punches him out and stuffs him in a closet*

They've just finished getting the passcodes when an explosion rocks the building and automatic gunfire opens up from the lounge. Given Felix was the only one still in the actual club - Titus and Warhammer was playing cards in the team's 'garbage truck' and Inkubus is naked somewhere - this is bad news for Felix.

Felix: ... F**k!

He attempts to play dead while the gunmen - from the elven extremist group Paranobilis - wander around shooting survivors. We've brushed with before (well, assassinated some of their leadership). Inkubus flies in, naked and glowing.

Titus: Crotch first.
Inkubus: Worse - I was interrupted mid coitus. This is officially my weirdest fight yet. WHO'S MY BITCH

Titus charges in, using one of the exit hatches from the truck as a tower shield. Labrat was clever with his design. The first three gunman get trampled underfoot. We've probably got at least 15 minutes before the Lone Star cops show up. Assuming somebody calls them. Even though there was an explosion. This is the Barrens after all. Or, you know, you could have Greenlight pretend to be a cop.

Greenlight: This is Lone Star! Drop your weapons or you WILL be killed!

Certainly, the Paranobilis group are already on the back foot, what with the glowy flying naked elf, Warhammer hosing them down with gunfire, and the troll battering ram. So this bluff actually works.

Greenlight: If at first it doesn't work, rub Greenlight on it.

Felix: And the cameras are getting all of this.
Warhammer: We are the best team ever.

At this moment the GM is distracted by the snacks on the gaming table.

GM: That is not a frog.
Felix: *examines* Good god.
GM: This is a schlong.
Titus: Complete with testes. Who let Inkubus pick the nibblies?

Felix: By Somnos and Lethe, inTheNameOfHypnosGodOfSleepSLEEP!!!

The stunball works. VERY well - even Titus reels. No wonder Felix managed to take out that dragon. Inkubus has seen people killed by stun spells that powerful. And there's all those people already wounded by the bomb.

Felix: Whoops. Well, at least we can blame any deaths on Paranobilis.

The glowy naked elf hovers down.

Inkubus: Felix. We need to talk.
Labrat: We need to LEAVE.
Greenlight: This is Lone Star! Everybody remain on the ground.
Inkubus: F**k!
Greenlight: Ssh, it's me, you're fine.
Inkubus: Greenlight? Take that dress off, I want my boner to go away!
Greenlight: I want mine to go away too! Get some pants on!

For boner, read ladyboner. Greenlight's habitual cross-dressing might otherwise lead to confusion. Kimchi finishes framing the YET with the corporate hack, we leave the Paranobilis to whatever retribution is coming, and we all fuck off. True, we still have no idea who the Johnson was, but at least we all get well paid despite the elf-on-elf violence.

A few weeks later, we get another job offer - the latest Johnson has been badly injured and wishes to purchase some retribution.

Felix: Do we do retribution?
Inkubus: *shrug*

Felix wonders how notorious we are now.

Felix: You DID appear flying and naked on camera.
Inkubus: On private camera. It was an elf policlub. They just went "Yeah! Elf Power'. Admittedly some of them were a bit self-conscious about the dick, but...

Our new client is currently in a private room in Seattle General. Judging by the damage, someone tried to ice the Johnson WHILE he was at the hospital. Just as well for the assailants that it was a public hospital, and not a DocWagon facility - in that case it would have been "And how far did they get before the quad-guns reduced them to a crimson vapour?" Although the damage turns out to have been hospital security over-reacting when the Johnson crashed through the roof. The Johnson is a small Western Dragon.

GM: The dragon eyes you emotionally.
Warhammer: Unemotionally?
Felix: I'm not sure I want to be the target of a dragon's emotions.
Inkubus: I know one dragon who would eye us emotionally - Gayschlong.
Gayschlong: Oh f**k YOU guys.
Warhammer: Uh, yeah... this is awkward.

Actually, it's not Geyswain - but the tiny dragon has been badly shot up. We're still appalled that we're getting involved in the affairs of a SIXTH dragon, even one that seems more interested in Tri-D than his injuries, after everything with that 'human' in the limo, Celadyr, Lofwyr, Aleesh, and Geyswain.

Our client's most important injury is his total amnesia as to what happened to him, who he is, and why someone would try to kill him. The dragon offers to pay with a ring from one of his horns - a ring that Inkubus instantly recognises. He last saw it as a bracelet on Maria Mercurial, a current pop superstar. And it gets weirder - the dragon also has custom data-jacks. EXTREMELY rare and unusual.

Inkubus: So we're taking the job then - this is too damn interesting.

Lucky Titus has Psychometry, on top of his accounting, gardening, and grievous bodily harm skills. That should bypass half the plot. It would appear the dragon escaped from a cage, managed to fry his own brain with an experimental cyberdeck, dodged their security team, and eventually crashed into the hospital. This is a little alarming. If somebody is even CLOSE to inventing neural implants for dragons, this is huge news, especially since related technology - such as those Persona Chips from the first adventure - can then be used to CONTROL dragons.

Inkubus: I don't want a Jack the Ripper dragon.
Warhammer: I want a Ghenghis Khan dragon!
Inkubus: You wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Inkubus: I'm going to have to probe your mind. I'm telling you this so when you feel the probe you don't...
Felix: Bite his head off.
Inkubus: Bite my head off. Or eat me. Or breath fire. Whatever.
Dragon: I see. I warn you a dragon's mind is sacrosanct.
Inkubus: I understand.
Felix: Besides, with that fee you get full confidentiality anyway.

The spell Mindprobe bypasses another quarter of the plot. He's the dragon Eliohann, who's always had a fascination with technology.

Inkubus: This is the first time I've Mindprobed somebody that wants me to go deeper.

Working for yet another dragon, and working so effectively, is going to do wonders for our reputation.

Inkubus: 'We work for dragons. Sure, you scare the shit out of us. But we're greedy.'
GM: At this rate the dragons are going to start bidding wars to hire you.

One more.
 
GM: It's not actually a monkey, it's a  Ring-tailed Lemur.
 
Players: What the?
 
Subject 27's player: I examine the Lemur.
 
GM: Make a perception roll.
 
Subject 27's player: By 4.
 
GM: The rings are painted on.

What's your user name over there? I've been browsing some of Paper Craft pictures for inspiration for my Space Hulk HERO concept I've been thinking of.
 
BACK ON TOPIC:
 
Last Thursday Morning our weekly DnD group got together for Pathfinder. We were in the middle of combat when the GM's wife tried to play basketball with a d20 and a dice tower and over shot the dice tower and sunk her d20 in her coffee cup. Me, my wife and the GM all cried out "Sploosh!" at the same time and I added in "Three Points!"
 
Our airship had touched down to make repairs after some goblins had planted Sonic Bombs on our hull, and several of our crew members went missing. So we went looking for them. The GM has some of Adamant Entertainments Fell Beasts books and decided to throw us up against some of the creatures within. First were the Puppet Spiders (spiders that lair inside a corpse and control it by tugging on its webbing which is connected to the corpse's muscles). My artificer made judicious use of his flame thrower with the battle cry of "Eat Flaming-Hot Death you Eight-Legged Freaks!"
 
Later we encountered a Mercy Flower ("carnivorous" plant that has a Lotus Blossum like effect on creatures it grabs with its vines). Our Fighter and myself were grappled and I had managed to shrug off it's effect. "Get out of my head, Charles!" Our fighter was not so lucky. My wife (the Ranger Archer) had a +1 Flaming Composite Longbow and was whittling it down that way. Then I whipped out my Tesla Cannon and not only managed to burn out the vines entangling myself and our fighter, but knocked it down enough that my wife managed to plink it to death.
 
My wife to me: "Why am I always having to save your a$$?"
 
Me: "Because you like having my a$$ around and if I lost it you would mourn the loss of said a$$?"

Staking out potential threats?

Afaik Star Craft was originally intended to be a Warhammer 40k game (Terrans = Space Marines. Zerg = Tyranids. Protoss = Eldar).
But when Games Workshop pulled the licensing plug, Blizard just went on without them. It worked out rather well in the end
http://kotaku.com/5929161/how-warcraft-was-almost-a-warhammer-game-and-how-that-saved-wow
 
There is also Spacehulk the Videogame:
http://store.steampowered.com/app/242570/
 
Now if only they bring out Space Hulk the Flamethrower or space hulk the Cereal they got all the merchandising areas covered.

Shadowrun - Where Purrdence was hanging around and the Smut Field Intensity correspondingly high. Amazingly, since Inkubus was mostly absent this session, it appears the elf libertine is actually a Smut Sink.

Felix: Labrat! I have a gift for you!
Greenlight: It's a monkey! It has electrodes in its feet.
Felix: There's a Smartphone app that comes with it.
Greenlight: It's called 'Dance, Monkey, Dance!'

It's actually a stealth drone, which may be very useful in a hunt for a serial killer dragon. So will the cunningly modified garbage truck that Labrat has been working on - it looks ordinary and unimportant, but it's filled to the brim with armour, sensors, luxury amenities, and weapons.

Labrat: One problem - the base vehicle is the least cool vehicle on the streets.
Felix: Inkubus' Kryptonite

Felix: I'm not sure how Inkubus is going to deal with a possessed serial killer dragon - and I'm not sure I want to know.

Inkubus: I still think it's a bad idea to let any dragons know we're taking money to kill dragons. Even if it's a dragon that's paying for the hit.
Felix: It certainly sets a bad precedent.

This should all be arranged through our fixer

Felix: 'Contact Miss Kitty -
Greenlight: '...and ask about our Godzilla Special'

We receive directions to the meet with the client.

Greenlight: Copy. Sorry. Warhammer is rubbing off- *splutters* I'll see you there!

The Feathered Serpent Aleesh is annoyed that we nicknamed the target Godzilla.

Aleesh: You need to learn more dragonlore, human. The killer is a lesser dracoform
Felix: It's occasionally useful to pretend to have less knowledge of a subject then we really do, especially when negotiating contracts.
Greenlight: You must be a world class actor, Warhammer.

GM: You scramble into the limo
Greenlight's player: This module is making unwarranted assumptions about Shadowrunners. Is there money in there or something?
Warhammer: There's money in there? *pushes his way past and in*

Greenlight: I've never eaten hamburgers in a limo before.
Aleesh: I enjoy the common things in life.
Felix: You'll get on fine with some of this team then.
Warhammer: Because we're so... common... to. find.
Felix: ..... just enjoy your burger.

Aleesh: I am the ancient Feathered Serpent Aleesh
Warhammer: Hi Aleesh. I'm a dwarf. I shoot people.
Labrat: I could say something now but I won't because you're a Feathered Serpent.
Felix: And we're in enough trouble with dragons as it is.
Labrat: Speak for yourself.
Greenlight: I think I should have handled these negotiations alone.
Warhammer: Would have saved time.

As it happens, Aleesh already knows who we are, our involvement in the situation with the Penguin and the evil statue, and is placing the blame squarely on us. We're not being given a choice in the matter - either we help her attack the possessed Dragon Geyswain in his lair or she'll slap a geas on us and we'll do it anyway.

Greenlight: We're going to case the area for a few hours then attack our target Gayschlong.

At least we'll be paid well. And double if we can take Geyswain alive.

Felix: But she didn't say it was necessary - and I don't need the money THAT badly.
Warhammer: Hey! I like money!
Felix: Dragon legs regenerate, right?

At least our target isn't a GREAT dragon. And Aleesh has hired one Jake 'Cheating Cheater' Armitage as further support. Apparently Armitage already has quite the reputation.

Greenlight: Gentlemen, we have just purchased tickets to the best show ever.

The inadvertent innuendo of Armitage's hacking into Geyswain' lair gives us much amusement.

Felix: .... So you're going to penetrate the secret cave of the dragon Gayschlong.
Labrat: Which is apparently squeaky clean.
Warhammer: And wide open.
GM: Armitage sits there, fingering his deck, whistling and occasionally grunting
ALL: LOL.
GM: *headdesk*

We infiltrate Geyswain's office building - it would appear he's already started killing his staff - the same real estate agents that are already turning up dead. SOMETHING has been ageing them decades anyway. Although the bullet-riddled corpse of one is a mystery. Why would his staff turn on each other? Especially if one of them was apparently already dead when he was shot? Are there actual zombies in 2050? Titus stomps their heads in, just in case.

Aleesh: I need to be alone to prepare for my confrontation with Geyswain.
Felix: Ah - those arseless chaps take some getting into.

Greenlight: We're bait.
Felix: So, basically - Aleesh is hoping Geyswain takes so long using us as cocksleeves that she can take him down herself. Joy.

There are dead employees stuffed into every fourth locker.

Greenlight: Meticulous dragon, isn't he?
Felix: That would help in the real estate business - attention to detail.

The seminar room has a whiteboard. And Zombies.

Felix: Does the board have 'How I Did It' signed Geyswain written on it?
Labrat: 'Why I'm So Great'
Felix: 'All Work And No Murder Makes Geyswain A Dull Dragon'

The possessed dragon is in his basement suite amusing himself with a pile of corpses and other flesh toys. We don't stroll in.

Warhammer: We're not completely stupid.
Felix: 'We're just passing through. And walking off with the statue that's the source of all your evil power. Don't mind us'

One of the flesh toys is that elf from the junkyard. He's also still alive, and gasps that the statue was stolen from the Elven Nation. Then Gayschlong attacks.

Titus: You know, I've almost forgotten what his actual name is.

We're also fortunate that it makes a frontal assault, rather than cripple us with area-effect magics first. All the automatic weaponry and miniguns we're carrying might actually take it down. It gets Greenlight's stun baton in the uvula, but amazingly, Felix's first Stunbolt spell takes the dragon down.

Inkubus: 'I'm going to think very bad thoughts at you - Red wine with chicken! Red wine with chicken!'

Greenlight: Bubbles is kicking ass!

Aleesh arrives in her natural form.

Felix: So now we're between two dragons. Joy.
Titus: We're cool!
Warhammer: We got this!
Aleesh: *swats the other dragon hard*
Warhammer: Hey!
Felix: Kill-steal!

Aleesh destroys the bottled daemon, despite apparent ill grace at our success, throws the empty statue at Felix who recoils in horror, and orders us to leave.

Aleesh: Leave. I must talk with the youngling.
Greenlight: Advise him on stun-batons. They're fun.
Warhammer: And not chew toys.

We stroll out invisible, and jiggle the unconscious elf in front of the Lone Star cops that have shown up.

Felix: Dance, Monkey, Dance!

Leaving the cops to fume about the elf's Diplomatic Immunity, we steal a cop car and make our serene departure. True, the elf contacts us a few days later and offers to pay for the statue. but we left it behind.

Felix: We can rest happy imagining his negotiations with Lone Star to get the statue out of the evidence locker.

Plus, if he wants it THAT bad he can always pay us to steal it for him.

Guy does sound like a douche. Someone needs to take him aside and tell him to grow up and get some emotional discipline. Probably a lost cause, though.
 
How big was this mini? 28mm, or larger?
 
Oh, and I'm building a Space Marines army, myself. Bunch of black dudes with dreads. Something a little different.

I remember the very first time a new player joined our group of experienced D&D'ers. One of them had told him something about trapped candles that shoot magic fire at whoever passes in front of them.
So, during the adventure, I (GM) am describing a narrow hallway, completely oblivious to the conversation mentioned above, and tell them that there are a pair of red candles.
Immediately, our new player goes: "I know this! Those are those dangerous candles, aren't they?" He proceeds to cut them to pieces and grins at me in triumph over his cleverness.
Me: " Ok. You're now standing in the dark."
 
Ever since that day, I always made sure there was at least 1 room in the enemy stronghold that had candles 

Joanna wants to use the combat ability Double-team, but needs somebody else with the ability first.

Jrska OoC: leers I've got Double-team.
Cassius OoC: facepalm Given Jrska's recent mutation ... you may as well rename it Spitroast.

Joanna seems to be leaning towards Slaanesh worship despite her best efforts. With any luck she'll no longer be a Sister of Battle, but can be rechristened a Sister of Pain.

Jrska: Who could resist when I'm around as such a good example? No-one can resist the beastwoman's butt. Poses

Cassius has also realised he can share his power with his minions.

GM: You'll still need to mark them with profane symbols.
Joanna: I'll let Cassius brand me.
Jrska: Aw, you won't let ME brand you.
Joanna: I never said that...

Jrska: I'm going to have so much fun with Joanna.
Cassius: You do realise I'll be branding her with Tzeentchian runes, right?
Jrska: Eh, I'll balance it with a nice Slaanesh symbol on her other buttock.

Cassius' player (to GM): I been watching – you've been stroking your goatee all day
Joanna's player: 'What shall I do to the PCs now?'
Jrska's player: He needs a white cat
GM: Now I'll all self-conscious!
Cassius' player: My work here is done.

Anyway – Cassius and Joanna are setting up a ritual that require the mutual murder of the Imperial and Severian commanders, while the rest of the warband are off to capture the aforementioned individuals. In fact, we just drove off an Imperial Stormtrooper attack on the Severian HQ.

Aladar, still insubstantial, hurries off after the retreating stormtroopers. He still has officers to immolate, after all. Cog, of course, is still lying shot and bleeding back at the door trying to weld his ribs back into place.

Jrska: That's why I left him to it. He needs to learn to appreciate the agony.

The Severian general is wearing a big white fur coat.

Jrska: Mmmm, I'll have that.

Jrska and her Kingfisher Girls, all wearing looted Severian uniforms, take refuge in audacity and stroll right into rebel HQ like they belong there.

Jrska: The body language screams 'Officer!' while the actual facts say Mutant.
Cassius: And by the time they sort out the cognitive dissonance -
Jrska: I'll be right in the middle of them

She marches up to the Severian commander, and unhooks a Web grenade from her bandolier.

Jrska: Reinforcements from home, sir. I was told to give you this.

Jrska does her very best Arnold Rimmer salute, but the Severian general recoils just in time to avoid the worst of exploding web grenade. Rapidly hardening fluid sprays in all directions.

GM: There's something I could say here, but I won't.
Jrska: Well, that was premature.
Cassius' Player: Did I ever tell you about my Bukkake Missile character? (A Monk/Psion with Entangling Ectoplasm.)

True, Jrska gets caught in the entangling blast too, but she DID manage to get within arm’s length of the Severian general, and they're now bound face to face.

Jrska: Hi there. Is that a plasma pistol in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?
General: Get away from me, beast!
Jrska: fondles the general
General: Get off me!
Jrska: He doesn't know me very well, does he?
Cassius OoC: What's that condition that scrambles the order of words you hear? And he just said 'Get Off Me'

A pack of Severian troops attack Jrska as she frees herself of the goop. She giggles as one actually manages to hurt her.

Jrska: Oh you cute boy! A dozen warriors can stain their weapons in me without harm.

Back at the ritual room, somebody lobs a few grenades into the ritual room. Rather than ruin the preparation, Daemon Prince Cassius flings himself over the explosives. After all, he's a daemon now.

Jrska OoC: With any luck they aren't holy hand grenades.

True, this is probably evidence that Cassius hasn’t got the hang of being a Lord of Chaos yet – a true devotee of the Ruinous Powers would have thrown one of his minions over the grenade.

Joanna: Imperials? Those guys are so dead.
GM: Maybe.
Joanna: Are they wearing red shirts?
GM: Actually.. checks the Regiment picture Yes. Sigh

GM: I just thought – can you hear your own voice over mindlink?
Cassius: Is that what I sound like? Oh gods, why did nobody tell me? Is that my ass? Why did nobody tell me!

Joanna kills the Imperial sergeant before Cassius can psychically devour his mind, and he radiates his displeasure.

Jrska: Don't worry, my lord, I'll chastise her later – I've been saving that porcupine-skin condom for a special occasion.

The Imperials are reconsidering the wisdom of attacking a Daemon Prince.

Troops: Run away! Run away!

Cassius eats the brain of the sergeant Joanna killed – not ideal, but still useful given his lingering Space Marine talents - and radios his commander, mimics the sergeant's voice, and get gets a tactical sitrep. Including the whereabouts of the Imperial Commander. He sends Joanna off to assist Jrska’s efforts. Our Daemon Engine Stormfarrow sulks.

Joanna arrives at the Severian HQ and starts lobbing frag and stun grenades into the swirling melee of blinded, insane, stunned and raving Severians, Kingfisher Girls, and PCs. Aladar disarms the blinded General.

Aladar: Anybody got any sedatives?
Jrska: Cog does.
Joanna: I thought you would.
Jrska: I tend to go for stimulants

We cart the Severian general and a few of the more amusing survivors back to Cassius, who mind-probes the general for communication codes. Then Jrska informs the Severian troops that the general has been kidnapped by Imperials dressed as Severians, and where in the starfort he's being taken. Since this includes the equally confused Imperials, the results should be glorious chaos as everybody converges and start fighting each other and themselves.

Of course, we still need to capture the Imperial commander, and somehow get the two commanders to kill each other.

Cog: Don't forget to switch uniforms.
Jrska: Thanks for the reminder

We send Stormfarrow off to have fun with the Imperial fortifications, while we flank the Imperial HQ, and burn our way through the walls with Cassius' fearsome psychic power. The encampment on the other side is absolutely normal for this kind of engagement.

Jrska: Standard IKEA encampment?
Cassius: The tech-priests would like to know how you know the name of the Ancient Standard Construction Template designer.

Time to storm the pre-fab fortress!

Are you certain the siliness increases only lineary, not exporumnaly?

Are you certain the siliness increases only lineary, not exporumnaly?

So our group was playing a Heroes campaign (Skilled normals ~120 starting points). When asked about backstories I said I worked at the dam in the city. That led to this interesting conversation.
 
(All OOC)
GM: So Malik (me) where are you at currently? (Time being right around 7AM in game)
Me: At my dam job of course
Table dies laughing
Me: Whats so funny? I work at that dam place...
More laughter (I had no idea what I said at this point but its slowly dawning on me
There must have been another 10 jokes tossed about the dam in here, before I finally had enough and said in my most dead-pan voice: "Ok enough with the dam jokes." I then fell out of my chair laughing. 
 
This is what happens when out group starts drinking 2 hours before the game starts and the person who slept the MOST only had 4 hours of sleep...

May 2052 - A year since our brush with the dragons, and nobody has turned up to immolate our apartments yet.

Inkubus: So we're probably okay.

Despite those selfies of us riding a dragon's back being posted on the Shadownet, anonymously.

Lots of other stuff has been happening, that we thankfully avoided. A free spirit has revealed itself as a major shareholder, forcing the Japanese government to extend citizen rights to astral entities. The Transpolar Aleut left the Native American Nations. An arcology has been built in the North Sea. Bioware is becoming cheap enough for the average cit. Seattle acquired a major shipping agreement and the economy has exploded. A new president is elected and promptly dies. Inkubus gets offered something 'better than Better Than Life chips', and narrowly avoids addiction.

Greenlight: I'm 21 now! I can drink legally!

Inkubus: My friend thinks My Little Pony uses Shadowrun magic. Earth ponies are physical adepts. Unicorns are true mages.
GM: Zecora is a Shaman?
Felix: And Changelings are insect spirits.
Inkubus: Exactly!

Inkubus: The next metamagic feat I want is Sympathetic Linkage. 'Hmm, this looks like that building – sculpt sculpt sculpt'
Felix: Get out the mashed potato.

Inkubus: And I've started wearing shirts.
Greenlight: Who are you and what have you done with our friend!
Inkubus: Part of the business is looking respectable.
Greenlight: But I can't recognise you by face! I need to see those perfect cheesegrater abs!

Inkubus has been working his way into the entertainment, party, and music scene. Hence the shirt.

GM: Only Ms. Winter gets to see the abs.
Inkubus: I'm sorry, are you implying I be mon... mon...
Felix: Rhymes with Epstein-Barr Virus.

It's at one of our weekly meet-ups for fine dining that we're approached by a rotund man.

Titus: It's the Penguin!
GM: He's a lot more bedraggled then that.
Titus: It's the Penguin on a bad day!
GM: He speaks in a high, crackling voi- Oh god, it IS the Penguin.

He seems desperate to talk to us. It probably has something to do with the suitcase chained to his wrist.

The Penguin: Thank the stars! We must talk at once! You can't know what I've had to do to find you!
Felix: Then don't tell us.
The Penguin: Let us retire to the restaurant and enjoy our midday repast.
Felix: How did you get in here?

Greenlight: So, how is the 'killing people for profit' going?
Warhammer: Profitable.

The Penguin – one Topal – orders a half-dozen entrees and desserts, and as we watch him like a pride of hungry lions bemused by a angry baby goat, he offers us 5000 nuyen each for a three hour escort mission. He's also cracking jawbreakers in his bare hands. Titus shakes his hand – a good excuse for some quick psychometry. He's very nervous, and the suitcase is extremely important, and dragging the local magical environment around like a lump of neutronium.

Felix: Is there a convenient canal outside so we can use a boat to bypass the plot again?

Topal is freaked out that we know how nervous he is.

Felix: Are you under a magical geas that stops you talking about the suitcase?
Topal: How am I supposed to tell you that?
Inkubus: It's the most common omission when somebody gets put under a geas 'Don't tell anybody about the geas'

We accept the job, and promptly refuse to let him get out of our sight.

Greenlight: You're coming with us, Mr Penguin. I mean, Mr Johnson.

Topal wants to drive out to the Puyallup Barrens – even scarier than the Redmond Barrens. We're promptly followed by a mob of bikers.

Felix: You know, what we need here is one of those self-inflating lifeboats. We push it out the back door, pull the cord and it goes WHOMP.
Greenlight: That's a great idea! Why don't we have one of those?

We do have Inkubus' Barrier spell.

Greenlight OoC: GM wants a chase scene.
Inkubus OoC: Metal mage says No.

The destination is one of Seattle's more notorious junkyards. Inkubus calls up some insurance – the spirit of the junkyard, a formidable canine THING. Topal enters via by a tunnel under the fence.

Titus: He's a burrowing penguin.
Felix: Fairy Penguin? They burrow.

Titus just lifts us over the fence. There's a black elf waiting for us.

Greenlight: They prefer African-American elf these days.

Elf: Are you ready, Raven man?
Felix: Penguin man.

Things aren't going to plan – there were supposed to be three people here. And there's vehicles approaching. Topal tries to force the suitcase onto us.

Topal: No, no, this is all wrong. Here, take this!

Not being completely stupid, we all back off fast. And when the Lone Star police turn up to arrest everybody, we simply put our hands up. After all, apart from trespassing on the junkyard, we haven't done anything illegal. Of course, then somebody yells “F**k, it's the Star! Ice him!”

Luckily for Topal, the sniper manages to hit his own team healer by mistake. Not good for the tiny mage.

Inkubus: She looks like one of those Cancer Kids!
Greenlight: She was from the Make-a-Wish Foundation – she wanted to be a shadowrunner.

Lone Star Chief: All right Bloodraven! We've got you and your terrorist compadres surrounded! Surrender and we might only beat the drek out of you!

Inkubus has the spirit conceal us and our client, and we depart. If the Lone Star were smart, they'd spray the entire area with fire, but they're preoccupied with that sniper at the moment.

Greenlight: Must have been a Lone Star sniper – nobody would be so bad as to shoot their own mage.
Inkubus: If Warhammer shot me, I'd assume he meant it.
Greenlight: If he shot you you'd have 14 holes in your chest.
Inkubus: I'd have thought he could do it with one.
Greenlight: Have you seen him shoot? I've never seen him select single-fire once!

The Penguin isn't looking well – 40 years older, and at death's door.

Felix: Do we go through his pockets for loose change now?

The Penguin: It's.. too powerful! You must destroy it? Find... Trixie!
Felix: The Great and Powerful Trixie?

Trixie is not, in fact, the famous pony, but the equally famous Seattle mage – the oldest in the city, in fact.

GM: Does anybody want to astrally assense the suitcase?
All: NO.

We roll Topal's body out the door as a snack for the Barren's inhabitants.

Greenlight: Goodbye, Mr. Penguin.
Felix: Eh, I give it six months before DC brings him back.

Trixie's shop has no wards – but does house dozens of dog spirits who are very interested in our presence outside. And she knew we were coming.

Titus: Divination will do that.

Greenlight: We won't tell her about the bikers. Whilst awesome it was irrelevant.

Trixie: Hello dearies-
GM: Oh, sorry, that was my elderly witch voice. Wait a minute – she IS an elderly witch!
Greenlight: First time this campaign your voices have actually be appropriate XD

Trixie insists she take the box with us while she thinks about us. We all take a sharp step backwards.

Inkubus: It was his dying wish that we bring it to you. And he was a client. As magically aware individuals we are not going to fuck around with that sort of wish.

Trixie says the contents of the suitcase – a statue – is phenomenally evil, and can only be destroyed by a dragon.

Inkubus: Good luck with that! So far this has cost us some gas money. We haven't even shot anybody! If it WAS handcuffed to me I'd saw my own arm off! And it's not like we have any way to contact a dragon.
Felix: Welllll...
Inkubus: No! Shut up!
Greenlight: *clamps hand over Felix's mouth*
Warhammer: Don't you say a fucking word!

Felix: Well, we might not have got any money or karma, but we've dodged a bullet.

Or possibly not. In a few weeks Felix is hearing rumours that there's a serial killer-dragon – thankfully not a GREAT dragon – out there. And that the half-eaten remains are horribly decayed, as if aged by decades. And that another dragon is offering a quarter-mil bounty on the killer's head....

Inkubus: I'd rather go up against a dragon than a Juggernaut. And those things are wandering around the American countryside.
Greenlight: Juggernaut?
Inkubus: Awakened Armadillo.

Inkubus can divine a link if he can get access to one of the victims. Greenlight can get him into the corporate morgue, after one of our contacts (one CyberPope) hacks our data into their systems. But why would a dragon serial-killer want to kill an exec from a real estate company that own much of the Puyullup Barrens?

Inkubus: Do we really want this job? If we kill the dragon we'll just have the idol again.
Warhammer: I just want to kill a dragon.

Titus: Which dragon put the hit out on the serial-killer?

The Feathered Serpent Aleesh, we learn. Perhaps we'd better talk to her first.

Aboard the huge Lycurgos-Pattern Starfort in warzone Epsilon, where the Imperium and the rebel Severian Dominate are currently battling for dominance, and where we've turned up to take away their toys. Our objectives – capture the enemy leaders alive so we can use them in a ritual to summon a Warp Leviathan, stop the Warpsmith from converting the entire Starfort into a Daemon Engine, and amuse ourselves with such personal entertainment as burning officers alive and tricking them into killing their own men.

Stormfarrow, our pet Daemon Engine, is proving a highly useful minion, and is making short work of enemy tanks three times its size.

Cassius: If you can't control daemon tanks, you have no place leading a war.

Of course, this is when Aladar gets us hopelessly lost.

Jrska: My lord? Shall I chastise him or shall you?
Cassius: We don't have the time.
Jrska: I was only going to cut off an ear or two.
Cassius: Cog? Keep an eye open for cerebral implants. No anaesthetic

Cassius: If this is not the right path, Aladar, I will tear apart your mind and reassemble it until you believe you're a ten-year-old girl named Tiffany.

At least Jrska's Kingfisher Girls collect a bunch of Severian uniforms and grenades as we proceed. Sister Joanna has been picking up mutations, as well. Although some of us hope that doesn't include Animal Hybrid.

Cog: Bivalve.
Cassius: I hope not. Jrska will start making -
Jrska: Clam jokes XD

Instead she sprouts wings, where every feather glimmers like a dragonfly's wings.

Jrska: I'm just thinking how pretty those will be when I'm banging her from behind.

Cog: Jrska would bang anything. Jrska would bang a tree.
Jrska: Correct! Got wood? …. those sexy sexy Ent-wives....

Jrska: I'm hoping some of you actually align yourself to other gods – I want to seduce you to the worship of Slaneesh. 'Come to the Fun Side – we have cookies.'

Apparently the Warpsmith is a veteran of the Alpha Legion, who are notorious for their convoluted schemes and treachery. Neither of which explains his choice of a giant space-Nazi robot pitbull and a playful if utterly disgusting Beast of Nurgle of guard dogs, but still isn't completely surprising. Parley proceeds as amicably as can hoped, despite the conflict between the Warpsmith's time restraints, and our own intentions.

Warpsmith Arkurion: This plasma reactor will become its true and beating heart.
Cassius: Problematic.
Warpsmith Arkurion: But rewarding.

He agrees to postpone his own ritual as long as possible. We'd better hurry up and catch those Imperial and Severian leaders. Although we predict problems, since it turns out we're both trying to summon the same warp entity. Happily, Jrska can still lie through her teeth, once Cassius telepathically prompts her.

Jrska: My lords? The prophecy and your divinations have already revealed the voyage will be favourable for us.
All: HAIL THE PROPHECY.

So, we have nine hours to find the leaders, and conduct our own ritual. We attempt to locate the Severian leader – Cog by hacking the starfort's comm-net, Jrska's Kingfisher Girls dressing as Severian troops, and Cassius by piling up all those Severian corpses, mutating them, and reading the auguries in the twisted results. That, of course, manages to invite a dozen daemons into reality and Cog, Aladar and 10 of Jrska's minions are promptly possessed. On the other hand, Cassius is so intimidating they promptly obey when told to SIT, even those most of them have no previous experience of butts.

Jrska: Can I keep them?

Jrska is disappointed when the daemons return to Warp. She was busily unbuttoning her fly at the time.

Cassius: You use buttons? I expected Velcro.
Cog: For speed.

In fact, Cassius' psychic efforts do so much damage to reality that a Lord of Change steps out of thin air with an itemised list of everything we need to know to catch the Severian leader.

Jrska manages to draw the Severian troops away with details of the Imperial killteam currently trying to assassinate the rebel leader. Cassius, Joanna, and the tank stay behind to start prepping the ritual, since they'll be a bit conspicuous as Chaotic. We don't even need Aladar's navigation attempts anymore.

Cog: Daemonic GPS.

But it would appear the Imperial stormtroopers got through anyway, since there's a furious battle at the Severian HQ when we get there. True, the stormtroopers and their transport retreat when we show up to 'reinforce' the HQ, but they're still a threat. Mostly because with a suitable Command test, even a flashlight can punch through superheavy armour, and these stormtroopers can actually shoot straight. Aladar survives the retaliatory fire by going insubstantial, but poor Cog isn't so lucky.

Jrska gets to see her master in his new daemonic flesh. But her screaming instinctual terror isn't enough to cause permanent mental damage. A pity really, since Slaaneshi disorders include Unspeakable Urge.

Jrska OoC: I can't think of anything Jrska would consider unspeakably perverse.
Aladar: Praying to the Emperor?
Cassius: You actually enjoy the warmth of the Emperor's light.
Jrska: Yeah, that'd do it.

Jrska: Oh, my Lord – you could have such a fine Deamon Prince of Slaanesh wistful sigh

There's still a few Space Marine Scouts hiding in the ducts, but we can also hunt them down later.

Jrska has a plan – we woke up a Necrontyr tomb complex when the Ardent Crown hit the planet Solace. This was coincidental – we had no idea the Necrons were there, even with the prophecy from that shrine back on Voluptua. But the Imperium doesn't KNOW it was accidental – so we spread propaganda that we are going to waken the Men of Iron all across the sector. That should provoke considerable panic – the Imperium is almost entirely ignorant of the Necrons, but the Men of Iron were the legendary AIs and robots from Terra's Dark Age of Technology (i.e. that period when humanity still actually understood technology).

We jump to Ashen, a cemetery world where we can hopefully avoid pursuit and the more active parts of the Spinward Fringe War between the Imperium and the rebellious Severian Dominate. Apparently there used to be an Imperial force here, but they got wiped out by a necromancer some time ago.

Jrska: May I suggest a meeting with this learned gentleman, my lord? I'm sure he has a few Imperial warmachines lying around, that he has no use for. And Cog DID bring up the idea of making Daemon Engines.
Cog: Don't look at me! I can't do the summoning rituals!
Cassius: I can.

Antilios the Necromancer greets us politely, despite natural suspicion.

Cog: The dead do not make good conversationalists.

GM: After the necromancer stops screaming at the sight of you...
Cassius: I'm going to pick over your battlefields, OK?

Antilios is reluctant to hand over his battletank trophies – after all, why aid a potential rival?

Cassius: I assure you they'll be coming back this way later.
GM: That does not reassure him.
 
But with the promise of rewards in the form of secret knowledge from the Imperial dead, Antilios does promise to aid our future Black Crusade. Time to rebuild those tanks into unholy warmachines!

Cassius: I give honest answers to questions! They might not be the whole truth, but they're honest.

Jrska charms the Chains of Judgement's ruling techpriest into assisting with the rebuild and ritual, Indeed, charms him so well that Father insists on personal involvement, and that the ritual takes place in his own workshop. If this works, Father might well start replacing ALL the tech on the ship with bound daemonic technology. Of course, being part of such a ritual will have deleterious effects – it could strip away every point of Jrska's IQ, for example.

Cog: Jrska becomes a ditzy blonde

Probably best she stays out of this, then. For one thing, it’s doubtful she’d have the patience for the months of work involved. And even more importantly, her allegiance is to Slaanesh, the Prince of Pleasure, and Cassius intends to install a Flamer of Tzeentch.

Jrska: I expect I'm off trying to find 6 virgins to feed to the Slaaneshi deamonhost in the temple. Not easy, on this ship.

The salvaged tank is certainly changing in interesting ways, as the Flamer is bound into its new metal form – the sponsons, for example, become rippling Anomalocaris-like lobes that propel its hovering frame around, shifting warpfire boils off the hull, it sprouts an eye and psychic abilities, and a warp accelerator that turns anybody nearby into primordial sludge. It also starts raining blood, and all the oil in the machinery nearby transforms as well.

Jrska: Khorne mustn't like this.
Cassius: No, this is Khorne's blessing.
Jrska: Good point.

Jrska: I can't wait to try this out on the Imperials. Can we get a Slaanesh one next, pleeeeeease?
Cassius: Maybe.
Jrska: If I'm a good girl.

Jrska: So, what does Father think of this result?
GM: Heeeee … has no comment.

Aladar: Can I attach a mop to the end of Cassius' force staff?
Cog: No. Do not goad the Daemon Prince.

We arrive back at Warzone Epsilon, where we dropped Grey's agent off months ago. There's a giant starfort guarding an agri-world, and the Imperial fleet that was massing for an offensive against the planet is a bit bigger, and trading fire with the fort, and attempting boarding actions against it. Our new disguise is that of a Severian Dominate ship.

Jrska: Whoops.

Grey's agent will require extraction – but if we play this right we might be able to acquire the entire starfort.

Cog: Inside I'm going Squee!

One of the arms of the station has been destroyed by a giant explosion.

Jrska: Your work?
Agent X: Indirectly. I did not expect the imperial cruiser's pilot to be so foolhardy.
Cog: turns to Aladar You have a brother?

X and his Warpsmith ally suggest ways Chaos can wrest triumph from the battling parties – one is a ritual to move the entire starfort – the other is seizing control of some of the Imperial ships, and using them to tow it. Since there's no shortage of Imperial and Dominate troops already on the starfort, we should have plenty of potential sacrifices.

Cassius: We're summoning a Warp Leviathan into reality, encouraging it to swallow the starfort, then dive back into the Warp and spit us out somewhere else.

It won't even take many deaths – sacrificing the Imperial and Dominate commanders (or having them kill each other) will attract the Leviathan's attention.

Jrska: Quality, not quantity.

Nobody comments on the oddness of Jrska, of all people, promoting such a philosophy. The Severian troops at the dock welcome the arrival of 'reinforcements'. X's troops gun them down from behind. Then Cassius disembarks. One of the chaos troopers drops dead at the mere sight. There's no sign of the warpsmith – apparently he's heading to the starfort's engines. And may be planning a ritual to turn the entire starfort into a daemonic engine. Cassius makes his decision – charge right in causing as much havoc as possible, our daemon tank and daemon prince scattering both sides until we can take both commanders by the throat.

Cassius: Sometimes you use a hammer where a rapier will fail.

Little things like burning lieutenants alive, or tricking them into killing their own troops, will please Tzeentch and amuse Jrska. Although we do need to stop that Warpsmith first.

Jrska: And tell him to calm his tits.

Cassius observes that the Dominate uniform might confuse Imperial troops.

Sniper One: Where's the leader?
Sniper Two: Dunno, they've all got the same sized pauldrons.

The first squad of Dominate troops that we run into, and their tank transport, don't have time to realise what hit them.

Cassius: I'm Pushing the psychic power. Tzeentch likes it when I push.
Jrska: So do I

The Stormlord Superheavy Tank we run into next lasts longer, but not much. Jrska and her Kingfisher girls have wisely stepped into side rooms, but Aladar has already run forward to try and backstab it. Probably unwisely of him, given the sheer scale of Cassius' and the Deamon Engine's attacks, but does put him close enough to throw white phosphorus grenades into the troop compartment. And, of course, the Daemontank's psychic abilities means it completely avoids the horrendous storm of mega-bolter fire the Stormlord throws at it.

The troops riding on the back of the Stormlord pop up, see what they're facing, and promptly duck back down in eminently understandable terror. Where that incendiary grenade is waiting. Cassius fries the crew with warpflame, but the tank's machine spirits suffice to keep it going. Our own tank retaliates, 'forgetting' that its masters are in the way. Cassius has to ht the floor, not only to avoid friendly fire, but to try and get underneath the superheavy that's trying to ram him against the bulkheads. Aladar jetpacks onto its roof and burns his way in with a lascannon, Cassius attempts to take out its engines, and Cog prays to the Omnissiah that enough of the Stormlord will be left for him to salvage. For one thing it'll make an awesome Deamon Engine, although we'll probably have to keep it well away from the first one. It might hold a grudge.