Christopher

I think dragons do facepalms with thier wings. So it would be a double face wing, I guess.

The heroes encounter a villain who works for SPIDER. One of the heroes, Titan, used to room with this guy at the SPIDER academy.
 
Shatterzone: Don't you remember me, Titan? I recognize your voice! We used to be roommates. I'm going to give you one chance to come back to us, and then I'm going to ruin your life.
 
Titan; Do I know you?
 
Golden Fencer: Hey, wait, he said you were roommates! Was college really that bad?
 
Titan: I didn't go to college!
 
Golden Fencer: What was it? Summer camp?

During a Champions game, a player's sword-user is attacked by a nasty energy blast. The player decides he doesn't want to get hit (who would?). He says, "He tries to squinkle out of the way!"  There is a long pause by everyone, including GM. GM laughs, "Squinkle?"  Player laughs embarrassed, "Okay, I meant to say he tries to squeak and....something else out of the way. I don't know what the other word is, but he tries." BTW, he was missed by the energy beam. Now listed on his maneuvers on the character sheet is "Squinkle" for his Dodge.

Stray quote from the con a couple weeks ago, by a female player in character for a female character: "I am not naked. I have a rifle."

What can you say? Those Chaos cultist realy like to "stick it to the man". And women. And other.
Her kind in particular.

The enemies of the Imperium are many, but a great many of them are servants of the Chaos Gods. Which is ironic, as many of them rebelled against the Imperium because they refused to bow down to the crushing tyranny, and most Chaos worshippers end up dead or mewling Chaos Spawn anyway.

Cassius: A space marine psyker, formerly of the Storm Crows, and now forging his own path to 'save humanity'. His increasing mutations include wings, an aura of crawling black fire, and permanent fusion with his power armour.
Aladar van Rijn: A former Rogue Trader, who made a few unwise business decisions and ended up in the Screaming Vortex. Already severely mutated, but still human externally.
Cog: A Heretek, and one of Cassius' most useful minions, especially given his knowledge of arms, armour, and genetek.
Jrska: Born mutant, and a joyfully perverse devotee of Slaanesh. Hyena-headed beastwoman, a skilled liar, and seductress. Even of Imperial battle-nuns.

Pre-game chat includes discussion of a Pathfinder game where Cassius' player's PC recently concluded a search for his unknown father.

Cassius' player: I was a bastard.
Me: But Tony, all your characters are bastards.
Cassius’ Player: No, this one was an actual bastard.
Peanut Gallery: A legitimate bastard XD

Cassius’ player: He’s Neutral Evil - i.e. PC.

Other loot from the Ardent Crown - astrographic charts apparently recording the movements of Eldar Craftworlds - invaluable intel - and a casket and signet ring combo that apparently makes the casket and its contents completely invisible to all but the wearer. This could be VERY useful.

Jrska: Cog, sweety? What’s this?
Cog: Hmm? Sorry, you caught me in the middle of mathematics.
Jrska: Tech-priest recreation.
Cog OoC: Fourplay XD

Evidently the Chaos Powers have been pouring knowledge into Aladar's lobes, along with daemonic clockwork.

Aladar: I’m now ridiculously competent.
Jrska: And here is proof that Chaos can warp the very laws of Reality.
Cassius: Hmm?
Jrska: Aladar is now competent.
Cassius: Mroowwwl!

Saucer of milk for Table Three.

Our GM decides NOT to replay out the torture of the Farseer. This squeamishness may be because he doesn’t want to know what Jrska can come up with. Either way, Cassius does rip enough out of the xeno’s mind to learn the secrets of Eldar divination. This is extremely bad news for the Eldar, and everybody else, frankly. But it doesn't take divination to note that Aladar is on the downward spiral that consumes most champions of Chaos - his physical and spiritual corruption is outpacing his infamy. It's very likely he will soon devolve into a mewling Chaos Spawn.

Jrska: Don't worry, my lord, I'll still keep him. Mmm, tentacles.

Cassius: Tell me, mutant - why were you willing to leave Aldar behind?
Jrska: He doesn't think I'm pretty anymore, my lord.
Cassius: Right.

This sort of backstabbing is precisely the sort of thing that wrecks most Black Crusades. Cassius decides the Ritual of Entangled Destiny might be in order - if one of us ever finds himself in such a situation that they need to appeal to the Ruinous Powers to survive, their eldritch attention will be directed to the entire group. This is rarely healthy, but entirely to be expected when the gods really can't tell most mortals apart, anyway. And it's a very good incentive not to backstab party members.

Anyway - the Chains of Judgement has finally found and entered the star system with that mysterious alien psychic beacon, and its attendant garrison of Horus Heresy-era Space Marines. One of the first things we learn is that they still have working spacecraft, which gives them a major tactical advantage. On the other hand, if they really have been isolated for that long, then they don't know how the Horus Heresy unfolded, or that the Imperium devolved into a brutal theocracy after the Emperor slew Horus, or just how far the Traitor Legions went in their alliance with the Ruinous Powers. Of course, the entire Heresy could have been avoided if the Emperor had actually trusted his Primarch creations, and the Primarchs hadn't had an entire graphic novel's worth of Daddy issues.

Cassius: We have to go wake the Emperor, then slap him. “You may have been a great man, but you were a terrible father.”

One of the system ships promptly moves to intercept us, demanding to know who we are, and warning us away from the asteroid belt of wrecked starships - many of them suspiciously reminiscent of Necrontyr tech. The ship is the Iron Pride, and bears a very odd mixture of iconography - the Loyalist Ultramarines and Imperial Fists, and the Traitor Iron Warriors. Jrska wonders how to announce ourselves, especially if these marines have no idea that Roboute Guilleman, Primarch of the Ultramarines, is long dead, and so is the Warmaster Horus.

Jrska: 'This is the Guilleman Can Get Fucked, and we declare for the Warmaster.'
Cassius: *gives Jrska a deathglare*This is the independent vessel Chains of Judgement.
Captain Ossian of the Garrison:Your ship has iconography of the Sigillite, yet you declare your independence?

That is true enough - Malcador the Sigillite WAS instrumental in setting up the Inquisition. But Cassius decides that honesty is the best policy, and the truth is that the Imperium is completely fucked.

Cassius: The Emperor’s vision has been abandoned, the future of the Imperium has fallen into the petty hands of Lords of Terra, the Primarchs are dead or missing, the Long War continues, and the status of the Emperor is up for debate. Oh, and Guilleman has sundered the Legions.
Jrska: *snicker*They’re going to love that.

Ossian insists on a live video feed - chancy, given Cassius' mutations. Especially since Space Marine psykers were banned by the Emperor's decree at Nikea. Of course, most of the Legions then ignored that decree, given the necessities of the war, and Guilleman allowed them again in the Codex Astartes. Perhaps Cassius' crawling warpfire can be passed of as merely psychic energy?

Aladar: No wonder I’ve lost interest in Jrska, only Cassius interests me now.
Jrska: *narrows eyes*
Cog: My god, it’s a love triangle

Cassius: Many of our brethren are fallen to superstition and ritual. The citizens of the Imperium are sworn to the Imperial Cult.
Captain Ossian: LOL that thing is still around?
Cassius: That thing is the mandatory religion of the Imperium.
Captain Ossian: … oh.

The Iron Pride tells us to maintain position while it returns to the planet to discuss this with the garrison commanders. It seems likely they'll want to meet face to face. And it doesn't take divination to tell they will not take kindly to surprises.

So how to play this? And how to explain all the mutants on the crew?

Jrska: Would you like me to dress as an obedient pet, my lord?
Cassius: No need to go that far -
Jrska: *silent cursing*
Cassius: - besides, I want to stick to the truth.

Cassius refuses to let Jrska sit in on the ongoing torture and interrogation of the Eldar, also he does use some of her Kingfisher Girls to massage the xenos' feet during their daily lunches. Daily meaning 'every three hours or other random interval'. She does get to warn the Eldar not to try abandoning her body.

Jrska: We've got Cog here to keep your body alive if you do abandon it - and there's so many fun things we can do with an empty psyker...

Jrska settles for a few laughs with the now completely demented captive dreadnought. Particularly about the way the dreadnaught's occupant used to think Cassius was a traitor, and now we've found an entire garrison of Loyalists working alongside Traitors. Cassius decides to play up the strengths of his mutations, rather than put them down to geneseed corruption.

Cassius: I do not consider it degeneration, I consider it…
Jrska: Enhancement XD

The Iron Pride is sending over 50 Space Marines.

Cassius: Half what you need to pacify a planet.

If they decide to try and take the Chains of Judgement, we're completely fucked. Let's hope Jrska's rehearsals with the 'Honour Guard' of Kingfisher Girls and mutants worked. At least our uniforms are freshly startched, and fuel the fantasies of any uniform fetishists around the place.

Jrska: Perky XD
Cog: And do the crew that aren’t Kingfisher Girls ‘stand at attention’?
Jrska: Probably XD

Jrska pantomimes perky obedience and helpfulness while the visiting marines are on board.

Cassius: I like Jrska like this. Maybe I should have got her a leash.
Cog: And a shock collar.
Cassius: No, I’m not going to punish her for bad behaviour - she’ll enjoy it. It’s a question of the carrot and the stick - and I hate to think what Jrska would do with a carrot.

Jrska's copy of The Lives of the Saints is useful too, as an example of how insidious the Imperial Cult has become. Ossian does want to know why it's taken 10,000 years for anybody to come relieve the garrison.

Cassius: The path to this system requires skill and audacity
Jrska: Then how did Aladar ever manage it?
Cassius: Just as well you’re not there for the conversation with Ossian.

Cassius also lectures Ossian on the nature of the Warp and its inhabitants. Although it's heavily edited, so we don't get blown out of the sky. For example, most daemons are reflections and echoes of mortal emotion and desire.

Cassius: As humanity is most numerous, they are more us than anything else.

Cassius further goes on to claim that even the most powerful daemons are essential harmless, since they exist by feeding on the cast-off effluvia of human thought.

Jrska: And the four Chaos powers sit up and say ‘Did someone just compare us to dust mites?’

Cassius: Carefully avoiding anything about worshipping the Ruinous Powers.

Ossian also wants to know what Cassius actually intends to do. Especially if the garrison agrees to hand over any of their stockpiled Space Marine geneseed.

Cassius: My chapter will be sworn to humanity, not some fallible human lord. We will serve those who serve humanity (it just happens that at the moment I believe the Chaos Powers are humanity’s best hope to survive things like the Tyranid invasion).

Ossian makes his proposal - since the garrison has no warp-capable ships or Navigators anymore, if we stop the recurring Necron attacks on the system by tracking them to their source, they garrison will give Cassius the engineered genetic material he needs. We have a goal! And one that will require a lot of alliances inside the Screaming Vortex, since trying to taken on an awakened Necron force with just one ship is a very good way to die, and die horribly.

Weldun: I think that's the problem with the DC comics. They're too serious.
Me: GRIMDARKGRIMDARKGRIMDARKANGST
Weldun: Yeah. They say 'Life is serious', but Life, the setting that doesn't have people flying around in their underwear, still manages to be funny. So why can't the comics be funny?

Weldun: Troubleshooting Macs. Step 1) Buy a real computer.
GM: Maybe you need to hit it harder. Like with a hammer.

We're going to need assistance to hunt down an destroy this Necron Tombworld. Avoiding backstabbing is also wise. Turning that captive Farseer into a Daemonhost that he can 'reward' Jrska with, but actually use to keep tabs on her, seems like a good double investment.

Cassius: I'm glad I let Jrska suggest using those drugs on the Farseer.
Jrska: I'm not stopping you from making daemonhosts. I'm delighted every time I talk you into doing something that debased.
Cassius: It's not the debasement, it's the way Cassius lets Jrska think she's the one doing the debasing.

Cassius: Let's go for Thrice-bound. Mainly to give Jrska a toy.

Cassius takes the time to talk some of Jrska's fanatical Kingfisher Girls into helping with the ritual. They're eager to please their mistress, and their mistress's lord. Naturally, an Eldar Farseer, especially one who's been dosed to the gills on sensation-enhancing drugs for months, is a hugely desirable abode for a Slaaneshi daemon. So desirable that a Keeper of Secrets, a Greater Daemon, turns up to take possession. Just performing these rituals is enough to boost Cassius' corruption up to 98%. Even with his infamy commensurately boosted to 97%, this means if he displeases the Gods in any way, he will instantly explode into uncontrolled mutation and Spawndom.

Cassius: ….
Jrska OoC: I told you at the start that here was an opportunity for the GM to boost our Corruption. And you were the one that didn't want the rest of us around for it XD

The Kingfisher Girls that participated in the summoning and binding are mutated by the experience. Mutations include snake-like features and tentacles.

Cassius: *facepalm* Unintended benefits for Jrska.

Jrska: *dancing down the corridors singing Hooked on a Feeling*
Cassius: Damn, that's catchy.
Jrska: Yes, my lord. I found a old 2D movie in the archives. Prison rape, genocidal terrorists, vivisection, auto-cannibalism. It's a laugh a minute. But it ends sadly – the hero gets killed by a bunch of idiots.

Jrska OoC: Admittedly 'Cherry Bomb' would be a good match for Jrska too, lyrically speaking.

Cassius: I do hope you enjoy it. This is a reward for your loyalty. You are loyal to me, aren't you, Jrska?
Jrska: Of course, my lord. *Lying, but perkily*
Cassius: *picking up Jrska by the throat* Why do I not believe you?
Jrska: Natural suspicion, my lord?
Cassius: Try again.
Jrska: Healthy paranoia?

Cassius: The xeno has a daemon within her flesh. I thought long and hard about the best way to reward you. You are loyal, aren't you?
Jrska: Yes, my lord! I yearn to see you achieve everything you're capable of.

Still, Jrska finds her gift waiting in the converted chapel. Her reaction can best be summarised with two small 'Poink!'ing noises.

Jrska: I'll probably be unconscious for days.
Cassius: Good. Cog might actually get some work done. Oh, I'm sorry, did I give away my agenda there? Ever since Aladar stopped responding you've been spending far too much time with Cog. He's been distracted.

In fact, Slaanesh is so pleased with Jrska's eagerness to 'fraternise' with the daemonhost she is rewarded with Hermaphroditism.

Jrska: *checks the contents of her pants* Excuse me lord, I have to go try this out.

Cassius: It's probably the scariest thing about Cassius.
Jrska: That you want competent people around you?
Cassius: That I genuinely want my minions to succeed.

To Cassius' horror, his efforts to research and conduct the ritual are enough to push him over to allegiance to Tzeentch, the Architect of Fate (the player needed more levels in Forbidden Knowledge, and miscounted the tally afterwards). This is something he's been desperate to avoid, still believing himself independent to the designs of the Ruinous Powers.

Tzeentch: Just as planned.
Cassius: What? Shit! No! Crap! Dammit! ...... Well played, Lord.
Tzeentch: You will now be known as Turdgurgler.
Cassius: What??
Tzeentch: Just kidding.
Cassius: SonavBITCH.

Appropriately for his new allegiance, his existing and additional mutations churn him into a distinctly more avian form, which at least fits with his Storm Crow origins, Jrska's Kingfisher Girls, Cog's vulturine tendencies, and Aladar's mental similarity to a Potoo.

On Tzeentch's Lords of Change and their resemblance to Skeksis.

Cassius OoC: That movie gave me nightmares.
Jrska OoC: It was called the Dark Crystal - not the Light and Fluffy Crystal.

Arriving back in the Solace System, where the battle against the reawakened Necrontyr has been reinforced by the arrival of a Millennial Warden Space Marine orbital watchtower. This is bad news, but at least it isn't an Inquisitorial watchtower. We tell the the picket ships to stand clear, but are told to stand by for investigation – apparently the Sector Chief Inquisitor has finally been told about a certain ship going around claiming Inquisitorial authority. Uh-oh. Especially uh-oh since they launch boarding rams and fighters when we try to flee. We DO have tech-priests, murder-servitors, that deranged dreadnought, brutal mutant armsmen, the battle-nuns, the daemonhost, and ourselves, but we are up against Space Marines here. Cog jams their communications - with 'Hooked on a Feeling'.

Space Marine: I'm hearing some sort of tribal chant over the helmet comm, Brother-Sergeant.

Jrska co-ordinates the defenses from the bridge (and grooves to the Awesome Mix #1), and Aladar and Cassius speed off to try and rid ourselves of these Loyalist nuisances. Cassius times the dreadnought's arrival so the elevator opens at the most dramatic possible time. The Nyan-cat music starts up, and so does his assault cannon.

Cassius: Mental conditioning with Nyan-cat XD

The Millennial Wardens retreat into cover, as Cassius, Aladar, and the other response units converge. Pretty shortly the Wardens are wondering what sort of hell they've been dropped into, especially with the competing soundtracks, and screaming of the rotary cannon and other firearms.

Marine Chaplain: This is devil music!

Aladar, very unwisely, rushes into hand-to-hand combat, and has both legs half-severed with a chainsword. Cassius is dueling with the Warden's Chaplain, to much better effect.

Cassius: Deluded fool! You stand before Cassius, Extinction's Angel, Doom of Leman's Solace! Smash!
Chaplain: I care not! You will all burn, traitorous scum! swipe!
Cassius: It is the Imperium that betrayed the Emperor! Smash!
Chaplain: It is you that is the fool! Only Chaos could spin such lies! Slash!
Cassius: *mind controls the Chaplain into attacking his own battle-brother*
Chaplain: NO! My will is STRONG! *SMASHES other Warden anyway!*
Cassius: Be honest – part of you enjoyed that, brother.
Chaplain: *falls back in horror at the truth of this*

Since both combatants have powerfields, this might go on for some time. Aladar remembers he can phase out of corporeality now, which given the chainsword now approaching at neck height will be a very good idea. He loses an arm anyway. At least he delayed the marine's assault on the bridge. Elsewhere, Jrska's co-ordination of the other defences isn't going so well – the other unit of Marines is moving to cut our own communications and power. The Dreadnought stomps up behind the wounded Sergeant, grabs him in a powerfist, and screams one sentence before crushing him to a spurting pulp.

Dreadnought: THE CAT. HAS. A. SOMBREROOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Cassius brings his forcestaff down on the Chaplain, whose faith is no longer quite enough to protect him. Luckily for him, the Emperor apparently has faith in him, and he manages to survive even as his battle skills, power field, and armour fail. In desperation the Chaplain draws a grenade and tries to slam it against his warped opponent. Instead, Cassius twists aside and the Chaplain loses an arm and his life. But because Cassius slew a champion of the Imperium, and using a psychic weapon to boot, the former Storm Crow receives the ultimate reward. The entire ship trembles, and even as Cassius' form twists and swells, a Herald of Tzeentch appears from the Warp and acknowledges his triumph.

Herald: Congratulations – the galactic game of fate welcomes a new player.

And Cassius' body explodes into his new daemonic form as a Daemon Prince of Tzeentch.
 

Helped a friend with a D&D 3.5 one-shot playtest, on the Roll20 website. I 'helpfully' resurrected Vitus for the event. Despite that, and despite the players all drawing mustaches on the picture of cartoon Dungeonkeeper he put on the virtual tabletop, the game worked rather well.

Me: Ok, apparently we're in an 8x8 room with a demented freak who likes to drop innocent school-kids into a fantasy world. Although one of them did get a unicorn as a familiar
GM: ROFL
Me: I vaguely recall a big bad called Venger
Narrator: Yes, He was a Nasty piece of work, The DM's son, if I recall.. Oh, wait, this thing's on? GM, why didn't you Tell me? AGH, now I've lost the element of surprise
Adrian Vyn's player: .: Unicorn... I remember a game where one of the players threatened to remove the DM's penis... DM said she can't it would be like removing a Unicorn's horn.
GM: Dude, just narrate the game, I don't pay you to kibbitz, that's the PC's job.
Narrator: Well, Fine. see if I Narrate any other game you run.. *ahem*

PCs -

Vitus of Clan Scorpion: Planeswalker and phenomenal arsehole.
Laudigan: Anthropomorphic Golden Crowned Flying Fox Sorceror/Bard, with such extraordinary natural grace and practised charm he has Vitus questioning his own sexuality. Vitus finds this somewhat disturbing.
Art: Wolfman cleric of Pelor
Adrian Vyn: Blue Panda-kin - a quiet beguiler with a tragic past.

Narrator: DEAR ADVENTURERS, WELCOME.
Vitus: *looks up startled at ceiling*
Adrian Vyn: Oh look, it's a disembodied voice!
Laudigan: The voices in my head sure are rowdy this morning..
Narrator: YOU FELLOWS OF VARIOUS BUILDS AND SPECIES HAVE BANDED TOGETHER AS A GROUP OF MISFITS WHOSE ONLY CONNECTION AT THIS POINT IS THAT YOU DO NOT ADHERE TO THE STANDARD EIGHT RACES OF THE FORGOTTEN REALMS SETTING. BUT NO MATTER.
Vitus OoC: "we are all individuals" - mandatory Monty Python quote out of the way...
Adrian Vyn: Dude, inside voice.
Narrator: YOU ARE SITTING AT A TABLE IN AN INN NOT FAR FROM THE RUINS OF HIGHTOWER CASTLE. IT HAS BEEN JUST LONG ENOUGH FOR THE TOWNSFOLK TO GET DRUNK ENOUGH TO ACCEPT YOUR WILDLY DIFFERING APPEARANCES.
Adrian Vyn: Oh great, a village of drunks.
Vitus: *mentally counts down until somebody - probably Laudigan - tries to seduce the barmaid*
Narrator: *glances back at the GM* Do I have to use allcaps? I mean, there's not really any way to type in bold here

It has been raining steadily heavier ever since the misfits got here.

Vitus: You have to wonder how anybody can live in this climate. Apart from frogs. *looks around at the townsfolk suspiciously* Or Deep One hybrids.
Laudigan: *Perking an ear at the continuous sound of raindrops on the roof.* At the very least it is dry. The last inn I slept in required several buckets to catch the water.
Adrian Vyn: Someone once told me, if the weather is bad, you need to complain to some god called the game master.

Vitus: *checks the weight of his coinpurse, and sighs* It would appear I'm going to have go loot some ruin again soon. Digging latrines would just be demeaning. *looks up at the ceiling, mentally calculating the odds of nearby loot vs. risk of gruesome death*

Vitus: You, barkeep - any ruins around here that the townsfolk scrupulously avoid?
Nig Llush, Bartender: Ruins? Naught but old Hightower to the north.
Vitus: Oh reeeeally. Do tell. Let me guess - lots of tales about the evil of the last resident? And how he was damned by the gods?
Nig Llush, Bartender: Naw, place was cleared out by adventurers like yerselves ages ago. used to be some old stronghold of a weather wizard, I think. Nothing but dust and stone now.
Narrator: Speaking of Weather... *truly ear-splitting crash of thunder & lightning*
Vitus: What in the name of Grabthar's right nut was that?!

More lightning blows in half the wall. Laudigan casually downs the rest of his swill and dabs his muzzle dry. He then proceeds to calmly duck under the table.

The Peanut Gallery: I'd advice any dwarves in fullplate not to stand up, inside or out

Laudigan: Perhaps the gods are growing weary of our idleness.

Vitus stands up authoritatively - somebody should at least appear to be in charge here.

Vitus: Townsfolk! Take cover!
Adrian Vyn: I don't believe they need to be told.
Vitus: I don't know about that, I've met some really moronic villagers in my time. Some you can't even leave out in the rain, or they'll drown

Adrian Vyn: Maybe we should relocate to the wine cellar?
Vitus: Anybody else thinking 'weather wizard'?
Adrian Vyn: If that's true, I blame you for bringing him up in the first place.

Vitus collects a few bottle of beer and heads to the basement.

Adrian Vyn: Well, I'm not going out there to pick a fight with a wizard.
Vitus: I'm not going out there in this weather - we'll wait til he's exhausted his dailies THEN go kick his arse.
Adrian Vyn: Is he our problem? If the rain stops we could just vacate the premises.
Vitus: *gives the panda A Look* He blew up the tavern

The Peanut Gallery: oh look, free booze

The bartender stares, shocked at the damage, then runs outside into the rain.

Vitus: What did I tell you? Too stupid to come in out of the rain...

Vitus pursues, then remembers he's 6ft4 and carrying a metal quarterstaff in a lightning storm.

Vitus: Maybe this was a bad idea...

Nig Llush, Bartender: It can't be.. The Weather wizard has returned?
Vitus: I thought you said he was dead. Exactly how long ago did you say his place was cleaned out?
Nig Llush, Bartender: He has been! At least 50 years!
Laudigan: If it were up to me, 50 years would be an ample time to make a grand return.

The Peanut Gallery: No weather wizard would be a one trick pony, where's the snow damn you.

The storm promptly obliges, dropping 4 feet of snow, sleet, and freezing rain on the village. In midsummer.

The Peanut Gallery: To the basement! Where all the very warming free rum is kept!

The group eventually tramp off to have a few pointed words with the wizard who interrupted their boozing. Nearing the tor things get quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

Laudigan: ...Do you hear that? It's... quiet, but it's there.
Vitus: NO, I DON'T HEAR ANYTHING
Laudigan: No. It is TOO quiet. *facepalms and rebukes himself for uttering the cursed words*
Art: It was quiet until you yelled.
Vitus: PARDON?

Two hobgoblins erupt from concealment in a snowdrift. We eye them with a certain contempt - attempting to ambush four alert magic-users really wasn't very bright of them.

Laudigan: *deadpan* My god, we're going to die.
Vitus: Well, full marks on the use of cover and Silence at least.

Vitus: Is it true what they say about Bats?
Laudigan: Depends what they say.
Vitus: That their 'racial weapon' is 'two-handed'.

Hobgoblins duly decapitated, we find a cavern under the tor that turns out to be some sort of underground complex. It's also swarming with rats, who prove hilariously inept right up until one has a go at the laughing hyena, and runs up Vitus' leg under his robe, where it makes a spirited attempt to circumsize him. Vitus' novel Prince Albert promptly develops lockjaw, rolling Nat. 20 after Nat. 20. Laudigan runs over to assist Vitus, who for *some* reason is running in circles flailing at his own crotch and screaming.

GM: Healing Grope...
Laudigan: Let's hurry and exterminate these vermin befo- by Boccob's COCK.

Another rat tries to sink its pointy little fangs into Laudigan's wrist.

Laudigan: You damaged my sleeve. Prepare to die, obviously.

GM: Be lucky yuou're not fighting Kobolds... "Shifty" is MURDER in high numbers like this.
Laudigan: But kobolds are so cute!

The number of Natural 20s the rats roll is beyond belief.

Laudigan: These rats are possessed by GODS.
GM: Quantum gods are fickle.

Laudigan: I cast "Summon Instrument: Flute" to the hand gripped around the rat's neck, making it appear within the rat's innards, tearing it apart as one end of the flute came out its mouth, and the other... under its tail.
GM: .....
Narrator: Dude. BRUTALITY.
Vitus: Well, I bet the Pied Piper never did THAT
Art: Rat for dinner any one?
Laudigan: Rat kebob.
Narrator: Laudigan is going to have to clean that flute.
Laudigan: Nay. I'll summon a new one.

Laudigan: Attack helpless critters, like heroes! *Punches air heroically*

Resting up -

Vitus OoC: *flicking through the "tome of sexy kobolds" while we wait*
Laudigan IC: *Polishing his wand while we wait.*

Narrator: Welcome to Adventure! Excitement! The occasional hot sex scene! Welcome.. to DUNGEONS! AND DRAGONS!
Adrian Vyn: The disembodied voice is back!
Vitus: ... ten more minutes, mom...

The sarcophagus in the next room is one of those ones with a portrait of the occupant's face. A really realistic portrait. Assuming the occupant was a flying vampire head.

Laudigan: BY BOCCOB'S DIMPLED ASSCHEEKS
Adrian Vyn: I told you to leave it alone...
Laudigan: Haha! Where's your sense of adventure?
Vitus: It got eaten by the last monster I could have avoided

The bard manages to take it down by spraying acid into its mouth.

Vitus: Well, I suppose it will be safe to open now, unless the gods are feeling particularly vindictive

Narrator: Running your fingers through the dust, something GRABS YOU!
Laudigan: Why is everything hellbent on laying hands on me?
Vitus: They think you're hot?... did I just say that aloud?
Art: Yes you did
Laudigan: I'd be flattered if I was more certain that I'm not about to lose my... my wand polishing hand.

It feels like a hand has tightly grasped the bat's own. Laudigan takes a deep breath, and lovingly grasps it back.

Laudigan: There there my darling, I am here.
Adrian Vyn: You're trying to seduce dust? I'm starting to think Laudigan has a one-track mind.

Laudigan pulls, and attached to his hand are the skeletal bones of some long-dead humanoid. It wears a ring on its ring finger. Laudigan examines the ring, then smiles warmly.

Laudigan: I'll admit... this is one of the more... interesting ways someone has proposed to me.

Laudigan: My sense of adventure is tingling. Of course, that could just be hypothermia.
Vitus: I think that's the Grim Reaper sharpening his scythe

Their's a stone chest in the next room. Art eagerly moves to investigate. The others, being more genre savvy, hang well back.

Vitus: Bet you a gold piece it's trapped.
Laudigan: You're on.

Art gets the chest open and promptly gets a dart right between the eyes. Vitus holds out a hand and Laudigan pays up.

Laudigan: ..you're lucky your skull's so thick.
Adrian Vyn: And that's why I stay far away from these things.
Narrator: So, instead of using your skills, you let poor Art take a dart to the skull?

Vitus is not very good at medicine, and has the bedside manner of the Grim Reaper.

Vitus: What do we do with this sort of injury? Do we have to push the dart all the way through so the tip won't break off inside?
Adrian Vyn: I warned you before to leave these things alone, you won't listen.
Vitus: I think I've got some pliers in my backpack here. For roadside dentistry.

Vitus: You'll probably want to get that out first, unless you want to be Art the Unicorn.
Art: Before I do, I am going to look into the chest, and see what is inside to make me get this much pain
Laudigan: Your priorities are impeccable.

Vitus: You know, whoever put that headband in there was just cruel - after all, if Art had already been wearing it he wouldn't have got a dart between the eyes.

Vitus use his crowbar to check *underneath* the chest

Vitus: Because that's the kind of thing I'd do if I had to leave something in a chest like this. A few baubles and a cursed item, and the real treasure underneath
Laudigan: Whoever put this here was simply not as savvy as you, I suppose.
Vitus: Maybe a few skeletal guards with long-lasting poison on their fingerbones, if I knew necromancy
Laudigan: Knew a necromancer once. Cold fingers everywhere.
Vitus: It's an important discipline

Vitus: Who wants to go through first?
Adrian Vyn: Whoever has a death wish... be my guest.
Laudigan: I think you could use a little more healing, Art, your... new face hole doesn't look very good.
Vitus: he needed that treasure like he needed a hole in the head

Vitus: The rats came down the corridor without incident, so the corridor itself might be free of traps - unless it's rotating blades at head height.

Art suffers injury to his other end later on. The long stone hall ends in a stone chamber furnished only with cracked, mouldering tables on which lie rusted implements of iron. Rain falls into the middle of the room from a shaft in the ceiling that must run all the way to the top of the tor. From the bottom of the shaft dangles a rope, swinging slightly. A drain in the centre of the floor allows the water to escape, but old, dark stains suggest that it was used to carry away... *other* fluids long ago.

Laudigan: Is that a sacrificial chamber? I'm getting a 'sacrificial chamber' vibe.
Narrator: Either that or a sex dungeon.
Vitus: *eyes the disembodied voice* Quite. But I don't think we have time for Art's backside to be thus treated
Adrian Vyn: How exactly do you eye something with no body?
Vitus: Arcane sight XD

Sadly, our paranoia is out of practise - we test the rope to see whether it could take our weight, of course. Unfortunately, it doesn't occur to us that it might be set up as a alarm system.

Narrator: Art tugs on the rope. You hear a rusty clang as an ancient bell peals out.
Vitus: fuckity boo

The ensuing battle is complicated by our own side casting Mist spells, and the arrival of an Enlarged undead Bugbear. Fighting blind doesn't help anybody, it would appear.

GM: YOU TRIED CASTING MAGIC MISSILE AT THE DARKNESS.

Laudigan is attacked by a hobgoblin.

Laudigan: That's a big sword. Compensating for something?

Adrian Vyn: Guess it wasn't the smartest idea to hide in a corner and be unable to leave without provoking Attacks of Opportunity.

Although we don't figure out what happened until after the battle, Art managed to Turn the bugbear. Which fled, and managed to knock itself out running down a hallway it was now too large to enter. Vitus is still casting Colour Spray at the enemies he can actually see.

Vitus: TASTE THE MUTHAFUCKIN' RAINBOW
Laudigan: It's beeeautiful!

Art: Can I take a wiz on the wizard?
Laudigan: See if you can!
Vitus: "we're off to pee the wizard, the horrible wizard of hobs"

The Hobgoblin Leader is still after Art.

Hobgoblin: GODSDAMNIT, STAND STILL, SQUIRREL!
Laudigan: HE'S NOT A SQUIRREL HE'S A BLUE PANDA.

The Weather Wizard, knowing he's cornered, attempts a desperate escape - ripping one of the multitude of patches on his robe, he flings it outward to the floor. And most of the PCs and one of the hobs fall into the 10 foot deep pit that just appeared. The Wizard leaps over the pit, laughing. "You haven't seen the last of me, Diblowiki, the Weather Wiz-
..... and doesn't make the jump.

Adrian Vyn: Wish I had time to hold the dagger up and let him fall on it.

Vitus, who was readying a rope and grappling hook to drag the bastard down anyway, garrottes him instead. Unfortunately, with the wizard's death the bugbear dissolves, flooding the pit with decomposing liquified remains. Yuck.

Narrator: The goo is extremely slippery. you ALMOST get enough purchase, but slip and fall back into the now half-full pit of goo. it's about up to your shoulders.
Laudigan: I guess we can swim.

Vitus: That... was... disgusting. If I could, I'd raise this arsehole from the dead just so we could kill him again.

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

From my Teen Champions game:
 
Nimisha: I hate when two crows get together. It's like attempted murder.
 
From the World Watchers game:
 
Nightstriker (having blew his roll to make his elixir which gives him his superpowers): Now I have to visit about a half-dozen places to get the damn ingredients again!
Israfil: (starts singing "Super Chicken" theme)

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

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/tvthemes/superchickenlyrics.html  
Battle Royale on the Moon. Heroes teleport up to get a monolith to take back with them (yes, one of those monoliths) only to see a battle for the artifact already in progress. Space pirate/slavers vs. Earth supervillains vs. Oblivo-bots.
 
Spark, after an obese space pirate punctured her spacesuit with his 4-meter-long tongue :
EW! You wanna taste of me, Fat Elvis? OK!
(Unleashes a pushed 28D Normal Energy blast which blows the guy across the lunar regolith into a trench of his own making, then she teleports back to earth with her suit depressurizing - good thing he had 15 ED and 25% Damage Reduction built in, or he'd be a smear on the Moon).
 
Reboot uses Cyberkinesis to seize control of the pirate ship's computer and takes control of its tractor beam, using it to fling several Oblivobots and a large, lizardlike pirate they are attacking into the next large crater over a kilometer away.
Merlin: Best hole-in-one since Alan Shepard!

Aliens who claim "We have come in peace." usually either leave Earth or themselves in pieces.

Never open a lead box.

Always sneak away from Gordon.

There's no future in time travel
 
Lucius Alexander
 
Just ask a palindromedary

Regarding Dead villains
 
"Believe nothing you hear, and only half of what you see"

"Be a hero. Be a villain. Just don't be a minion." ~Miss Match

it is better to WATCH a super-hero movie than to LIVE one

Be polite to everyone. The next person you meet might be a world-class supervillain in their secret ID.
 
Even in a world with superpowers, knowledge is power.
 
Everyone has their kryptonite. Mine is cupcakes.
 
Spandex is a privilege, not a right.
 
Superscience has built powered armor suits that can fly and fire lasers without needing to be recharged ... but our smartphones still crap out before we get the chance to recharge them.
 
The worst part of being a superhero is the slash fanfic.

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

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

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

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

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

Labrat picks up a few toys en route.

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

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

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

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

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

Plus, we can sing as we drive.

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

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

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

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

Inkubus: Is anybody else wishing we had a mortar?

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

Labrat goes looking for the towns most disreputable fisherman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inkubus: We can still sell his deck, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Nature Spirit materialises in our path.

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

The spirit opens an astral gate and invites us through.

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

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

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

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

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

We are promptly menaced by the Dweller on the Threshold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix: And Edinburgh is part of Silicon Glen.

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

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

 

Another up already:
959 It Was Not

new one is up:
958 This Sucks
 
 
 
 

Back aboard the Chains of Judgement, using the wreckage of the Ardent Crown as cover as an Eldar cruiser attempts to carve both up. Among our prizes - several dead Eldar Warp Spider Aspect Warriors, who Jrska can no doubt find something amusing to do with; a live Farseer who she can CERTAINLY find something amusing to do with; and that mysterious casket the Eldar were carrying around, and that Cassius promptly announced as MINE. Aladar, who somehow survived his encounter with the Hunter last week, remains badly injured. Cog has injected him full of hypermeth and whatever other combat drugs Jrska can provide, which should make the subsequent starship battle interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jrska: ohhhh, piss.

And Jrska fails to keep the crew under control.

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

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

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

Cassius attempts to fry the spawn with warpfire.

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

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

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

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

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

Cassius detonates one of the spawn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this someone's strategy for getting good quotes? Post horrible puns until I come up with some quotes to break the chain?
 
More excerpts from the Shadowrun game. As previously stated, the runners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
  Dent: ork, rat shaman No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems Happy Jack (aliases include Jonathan Bridges): troll, combat, disguise, negotiator Mr. Johnson: generic name used by/for secretive employers who hire shadowrunners     When Happy Jack meets with clients, he usually goes as one of his alternate identities: the distinguished Jonathan Bridges.   Mr. Johnson: "Thank you for meeting with me mister ..." Jonathan Bridges: "It's my pleasure to be here, Mr. Johnson. I'm Mr. Bridges." Mr. Johnson: "Mr. Bridges ... as in ..." Jonathan Bridges: "If you're about to make some comment regarding bridges and trolls, I've heard it before."     The shadowrunners discuss how they're spending their latest windfall...   Audacity Jane: "I can't believe you just spent 10,000 nuyen on a suit. What a waste of money." Happy Jack: "It's a high fashion suit with an armor lining. It's what the top executives wear." Audacity Jane: "So what? It's not like you're going to sneak into a building dressed like a troll CEO on our runs. You're still going in dressed as a janitor or a maintenance man like usual."   A few weeks later, while Jonathan Bridges (aka Happy Jack) was negotiating with a different Mr. Johnson...   Mr. Johnson: "And I'm prepared to pay each member of your team 6,000 nuyen." Jonathan Bridges: "6,000 nuyen? My suit costs more than that." Mr. Johnson: "..."   Unsurprisingly, the pay got negotiated above 10,000 nuyen apiece.
 
 
Discussing equipment on hand...
 
Eye Spy: "Do you have any anti-vehicular grenades?" Happy Jack: "Sure." (tosses a grenade to Eye Spy) Eye Spy: "This is a paint grenade." Happy Jack: "It's hard to drive or shoot when your windshield is covered with paint."   This led to the following conversation a few weeks later...   Byte Force: "What chemicals can I cook up for you today?" Happy Jack: "Paint for grenades. I'd like something that works a bit better than what we already have." Byte Force: "What are you looking to change?" Happy Jack: "Could you mess with the viscosity and surface tension? I'd like it to stick better to vehicle  windshields. And if they run windshield wipers, I'd like that to just smear the paint around without clearing it off." Byte Force: "Okay. That might be possible..." Happy Jack: "And could you include something that has a bit of an exothermic reaction? It doesn't need to be too strong. Just push the temperature of the paint over body temperature so it blocks infrared and thermographic vision." Byte Force: "Heh. That still won't help you much if the vehicle has radar." Happy Jack: "I was just getting to that. Could you mix in tiny particles of metal in order to scatter radar beams?" Byte Force: "****! Do you want the paint to yodel too, so it blocks sonar?" (long pause) Happy Jack: "That's a good idea ... but that might be a bit too much to expect from paint."     Needing no explanation...   Audacity Jane: "Of course dragons are at the top of the food chain. I can't eat that much."

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

Knot what I was expecting. Kinda sappy really.
 
Time to leaf and pun.
 
QM