Drhoz

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.

*grin* And then there's Cog and Aladar, who both fled into the Screaming Vortex when they got into big trouble with the Imperium, and Sister Johanna, who Jrska seduced into Slaneesh-worship

He's already talked a garrison of Heresy-era Loyalists into handing over half their stockpiled geneseed. But it's true the Millennial Wardens are going to be a problem....

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?

No, but i'll send you his email addy in a provate message

Hired to help a small dragon find his memory and some revenge, the team have already solved 3/4 of the mystery without leaving the hospital room. Psychometry and Mindprobe are wonderful things. Of course Inkubus is going to have to swear a geas not to reveal all the other secrets he pulled out of the dragon's head, but that should probably wait until the room ISN'T full of doctors and Tri-D technicians. Either way, that bracelet he's paying us with is a clue. Is it the same one Inkubus saw on Tri-D star Maria Mercurial? Titus: Well, there's an easy way to check Inkubus: ... well, I got to hand it to the troll. As mentioned earlier, Psychometry is a wonderful thing. GM: I'm trying to get you to go to a jeweller's shop! GM: I'm never letting a character have Psychometry again Greenlight OoC: I can't believe you gave it to him in the first place. Titus OoC: 'It seemed inoffensive at the time' All: LOL The first of the evening's distractions. http://31.media.tumblr.com/7343a30bad4a86fc7610efa7814282c7/tumblr_nf6he4PyZY1qeze3ho1_500.jpg Felix: One of the more unusual products to come out of the Dungeons and Dragons stable. GM: Wait, what? That's a licensed product? Felix: .... Nooooo. D&D. The cartoon. Uni? GM: .... EWWWW!!! Felix: Took you long enough. Inkubus: Prince Blueblood has to make money somehow. Felix: Well, bull semen is the most expensive product, by weight, in the world. Greenlight: The More You Know! The Less You Want To. It's actually a Hungarian herbal liqueur. Greenlight: How about we go to the jeweller? I don't want a repeat of last time, where I saw a hovering Elf's junk. Inkubus: As long as we admit it's always a possibility. It's a very upmarket jeweller's store, in a very upmarket mall. Warhammer: I give preciselyyyyyy.... two rat's arses. The jeweller at King Solomon's Mine identifies the bracelet as a replica he made for a particular client - not Mercurial. He heads out the back of his shop to check the records. Inkubus advises Felix to NOT astrally case the joint - they can probably afford mystic security. This isn't the kind of place the rest of the team usually hang out after all. Inkubus: It's not like we're where these guys live. Warhammer: I'm surprised that hasn't come up yet. Greenlight: We've been stopped every five feet since we came in. Despite that, a quartet of ragged street scum are wandering nonchalantly up to the shop. They are BLATANTLY casing the joint. Felix: Obviously the security were too busy following us around to notice these guys come in. Toughs: Freeze! This is a robbery! Warhammer: *starts laughing his arse off* Inkubus: *turns with enormous shit-eating grin* Felix: *looking around.* Wait, who's doing the robbery? Toughs: ... This is not going to plan Felix: *glares suspiciously at the dwarf* Warhammer... we did NOT discuss this... Warhammer punches one of them in the balls. Warhammer: I don't know why I shoot people, I really don't. Inkubus' spell fizzles. Inkubus: ... I suspect there are Bavarians nearby. So does Felix's. Felix: The hell? *stares at finger and ceiling* What sort of magical defenses do they have in here? Titus: I think it would be a good idea if you just left. With dawning horror the attempted robbers recognise who they tried to hold up, and get down on their knees, hands behind their heads, and wait for the police. Greenlight: Good plan. Inkubus: They've got promise Felix: Look on the bright side - a few months in stir and they'll pick up all sorts of useful tricks. Assuming the police don't just sell them for medical experimentation, anyway. Apparently the replica was made for one Justine Greer, the CEO of EmergingFutures, a freelance research think tank in the Barrens. Two months ago a mystery man bought them out in a hostile takeover, and they're currently involved in a corporate brawl with RenrakuCorp. Felix: Well, we know who's going to win that one. Inkubus calls his fixer, to arrange phone numbers in the hope this Miss Greer responds to our inquiries. Inkubus: Somebody is going to be calling you about a ring. Fixer: Did you propose marriage to someone again? Inkubus: I've never been that drunk! I can't even say the world! Greenlight's drama senses are tingling - she has a deep hate for Renraku, after they kidnapped her family. She wonders if this mystery buyer is the same Soft-eyed Man behind the kidnap. Titus: I'm confused - how did you make the leap to him being a Renraku man? Felix: Paranoia. Greenlight: I'm sorry, someone mentioned the R-word and my mental gears went CRUNCH. Felix: Are there any stormwater canals running through the Barrens? GM: Sure. Titus: Great, we can use a boat. Felix: And if can find some way to add Inkubus' dick to the equation, we can't fail! Titus: Just stick him on the front as a figurehead. Inkubus: Coke dissolves concrete. There's a divot down on the wharfs where they spilled the concentrate - they washed it off in minutes and it STILL etched a mark. Titus: And it still glows faintly on moonless nights. It would have been a good idea to track down Greer and her company sooner. Now there's a collapsed warehouse and a column of smoke where their labs used to be. Titus: This is what happens when you piss off a Triple-A company. Inkubus: Now why don't we get jobs like THAT? Titus: Well there was that one time, but we were supposed to be rescuing somebody. Inkubus: Yeah, don't mention that one around Felix, he glares at me whenever I bring it up. After the requisite rubber-necking from the Mystery Machine, we move on - for one thing the circling drones overhead are highly suspicious. But at least we get a call. Whoever is on the other end - we're experienced enough to not to assume it's actually Greer - wants to meet us at the Emerging Futures corporate offices the next day. They've had problems - half the windows have been shattered. But at least nobody shoots us as we go in. And their security is quite good - it detects nearly all of the weapons we're covering. Felix occupies one of the plush seats like he was born to it. Inkubus: You were. Greer would quite like the item back. We, of course, want to know how it ended up in our client's possession. And if it at point it was stolen, we don't want to be charged with handling stolen property. Inkubus mentions our client's name, and Greer completely fails to hide her shock behind a stoic facade. Greer: I hope you understand that individual is a major asset of our company. Inkubus: Yes, he's quite large. Greer has the conference room sealed. A good sign, since she locked herself in here with us. Greenlight is getting more and more jumpy as the circuitous conversation continues. The Renraku connection is preying on her mind. And caging somebody for medical experimentation - even if it was a dragon - is striking too close to home. Inkubus quietly hits her with a mood-calming spell, which effects Warhammer even more severely. Felix: Somebody dropped a Zenade. AUUUUMMMMM. At least the dragon was willing participant in the research, despite his episode. It seems likely we can sort all this out with a few non-disclosure agreements. Inkubus: I don't think I've ever been in this situation before - working for two clients who DON'T want to actively screw each other. But the drones aren't hers. It's now obvious that Renraku is funding the attacks, and waiting to see what the company considers a high-priority asset. Greenlight's artificial peace evaporates immediately. Felix: It's how I'd do it. Greer offers a contract - recover the lab's data before Renraku can. Inkubus: How did Eliohahn end up with your bracelet anyway? Greer: During the attack we - Inkubus: *raises eyebrow* Do tell. Greer: Nothing like that! Titus OoC: And that's where Drakes came from. But what of two other details Inkubus pulled from Eliohahn's scrambled memory? The name Cobalt Marie, and an Orc with a coin earring? Inkubus recognises the name, at least. It's a club. Of COURSE it's a club. And a very exclusive one, for high-level corporate types. Inkubus: Forget I mentioned it. Titus: The Power of RETCON! Inkubus: THAT'S the superpower I want. Titus: Ultimate level in the martial art of Deja Fu. But it's no good against against another practitioner - it just degenerates into a temporal slapfight until everybody goes home embarrassed. True, Renraku security are fearsome. Lets hope we don't run into any, regardless of how much Greenlight wants to. The objectives : Examine the lab site. Recover the data, unless it's already been copied in which case track down those responsible and recover it from THEM. Wipe any data pertaining to Project Cerberus. Inkubus: Do we have permission to eliminate those drones? They are flying over your corporate territory. Greer: Yes. Warhammer: *smiles* Inkubus: Are you happy now? Titus: It'll even be legal. Mostly. We leave, showing Security all the weapons they missed on our way in. Inkubus demonstrates proper security wand technique. Inkubus: One of the perks of doing security. You get to poke people with a stick. There's already a Renraku chopper parked at the ruined lab. Grinning evilly, Felix Stunbolts the pilot, Warhammer shoots down the Renraku drones, and Inkubus slaps an Force Dome over it. Pilot: What the hell? One of the drones just wen-THUD Inkubus Buffs Felix, Felix calls down an Air Elemental to conceal us, and we head in to have fun with ninjas. Greenlight: Samurai. They'll kill you if you call them ninjas. Warhammer: They'll try to kill us anyway. Greenlight: They'll TRY. Titus disables the elevators by ripping off a door and jamming it underneath the car. Still less noisy than using grenades. Then we head down the stairs - Eliohahn's exit hole is a bit alarming. (At this point the game pauses because the police show up, looking for a previous tenant. I'd wondered if the neighbours had overheard us plotting murder and burglary - this IS Shadowrun, after all. But I resisted the temptation to yell "Quick, hide the hookers and blow" and dive over the fence) GM: Tooonny! The Lone Star are here. IRL! Tony: What?! Titus' player: As valid reasons to pause the game go, it's a good one. We sneak invisible and inaudible into the computer room, and prepare to make the red-clad Renraku samurai very unhappy campers. Felix: I can't Stunball them all if you go up and tase them. Greenlight: In any other situation that is a valid tactical observation - but this is is Renraku and F**K Renraku! We stroll up to point-blank range, Titus taking practise swings with his sledgehammer, Warhammer with shotgun aimed at crotch, Greenlight preparing to tase someone in the face, and Felix preparing to fire a Stunbolt into somebody's occipital lobe. Felix: On the count of three. . The resulting carnage is a bit alarming. GM: Whatever happened to 'We only use gel rounds?' Felix: Hey, I'M using Stun. Inkubus is already clearing a flightpath for the helicopter when we steal it. Greenlight browses through the data and spots a few familiar names in old biotech data. Such as his brothers. And that of the Soft-eyed Man. And the phrase 'universal donor'. Inkubus: Oh no. Your has Type O System. He's *valuable*. Greenlight: *growls* What's Project Cerberus? Felix: Do we have time for this? Greenlight: SHUT. UP. Actually, Cerberus seems to have nothing to do with his brother - it's all about cybertech for animals, and nothing to do with whatever research EmergingFutures were doing on Renraku's behalf. We head out carrying the pile of unconscious and dead samurai, sending the Renraku chopper off on autopilot invisible under the air elemental to Warhammer's merc base, and leave in the Mystery Machine. We dump the living samurai operatives at a coffin hotel after stealing all their stuff, and go home. A good night's work. Our GM is perturbed that we managed to steal the chopper. Inkubus OoC: Useful tip for GMs - If you don't want the PCs to have something, don't give it to their enemies. And, of course, Greenlight has more clues to whatever happened to his brother, and the possible whereabouts of his family. Greenlight: I'm not going to kill EVERYBODY. Just whoever is responsible. Inkubus: I know. I know you pretty well be now. Sorry about the calming spell on the office. Greenlight: .... Inkubus: Remind me to get an insulated cup. We get paid six times for this job - the dragon, Miss Greer, selling the chopper, selling the samurai's gear, selling the dead samurai to the organleggers, and a special auction to sell the Renraku samurai armour to anybody who really want to piss off the corporation with a rare collectible. The data Greenlight stole refers to multiple Jacks. Jack One, Jack Two, Jack Three... Felix: Maybe they're all stem cell lines. Inkubus: ...He was younger than he should be... Greenlight: ....They cloned him. Inkubus: ... But he had Jack's memories? F**k. Personality chips. Greenlight: I'm going to kill them all. GM: I was going to give you all the hints over the next three sessions! Felix OoC: You solved it in 30 seconds! Inkubus OoC: Sorry.

Beautiful - I HAVE to hear more of your teams adventurers

4th Ed. Mostly because Weldun has all the books. No point asking me about system though, I am HOPELESS at game mechanics

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.

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.

Slaanesh types tend to live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse. Want bloody revenge or martial pride? Khorne will strengthen you arm. Envious of another's position, or yearning after knowledge? Tzeench listens. Fearful of death, or simply crushed under the monolithic tyranny of the Imperium? Papa Nurgle loves you, and is generous with his gifts. True, you'll be a bit stinky, but you'll live forever! Then, of course, there's the Emperor, who will protect you from the Ruinous Powers. At least, that's what his priests have been saying for the last 10,000 years.

The Severian general wore a Roman Legionnaire-style leather skirt, btw. Jrska approved

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!

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.

Titus: Greenlight’s 'hitting people in the face and dodging being hit back' skills are roughly equivalent to mine. Felix: But she doesn't hit them in the face. We're in Bavaria, conducting a covert book purchase for the Great Dragon Celedyr. Not that anybody but Celedyr has any choice in the matter. Even worse for us, Celedyr's base of operations is, as he puts it 'Right under Lofwyr's nose'. As pawns in some complicated game between two Great Dragons, it seems likely that the description of our fate will include 'and they never even found the bodies'. Anyway, the unwitting purchasee is Baron Munchmaussen, and he and his domain are best described as Doctor Doom and his model Bavarian village. Felix: What I want to know is why a Potemkin Village was built in Bavaria. Unfortunately for us, the decoy book is guarded by fire elementals. Worse, there's no fire suppression system in the library. Felix: Was Dr Doom dropped on his head as a baby or something? I'm having flashbacks to that Ambergel factory – we've got fire elementals, your white phosphorus grenades and no fucking sprinklers. Warhammer: I'm quite happy to burn the library down. Felix: So is the Baron, apparently. GM: The Baron is a dwarf. Felix: That's a troll. The tusks and horns are a bit of a giveaway. As is the 5 foot height difference. GM: I was inadvertently racist, wasn't I? Felix: Yes. Just because he's holding a beer stein does not make him a dwarf. Titus: And here was me picturing him as a cool mastermind. Felix, back-pedalling frantically, calls down his bound water elemental, and Titus swings his mighty sledgehammer Mjolnir. Titus: If I time this right I'll hit them so hard they turn into a water elemental. GM: You could pee on it. Labrat: He's not a peon. GM: The fire elemental is remarkably female. And reptilian. Warhammer: Just right for Inkubus! Felix: Somehow I don't think asbestos condoms are a mass-produced item. Labrat: But if anybody is going to have one... Felix's water elemental proves spectacularly inept. Felix: We didn't come here for a steam bath! I told you to kill it! GM: It's Warhammer's turn. Felix OoC: Time to bring out new rules, new codexes, and more expensive miniatures. Warhammer OoC: And cool art and miniatures painted to a standard you'll never achieve. Felix: Bringing the hammer to the stone. That there is an intervening fire elemental is irrelevant. Titus: With that much follow-thru I might have to worry about the floor. Indeed, there's an ominous ongoing CRACK. Titus: Oops. The floor caves in and we, and the burning contents of the library, are precipitated onto the floor below. Where the Baron is watching the security screens and enjoying a beer and cigar. Felix: If he had the book we're never going to find it now. It just had a burning library dropped on it. Titus: It's entirely possible the book isn't vulnerable to normal damage. Felix: What a pity we are. The Baron, being a troll, just shrugs off the wreckage. He seems unhappy for some reason. At least the security is heading to the wrong floor, now. Felix: They're get to the door and go 'Where did the library go? Did we get out on the wrong floor?' The Baron gets a shotgun-full of gel rounds in the face and goes down. Felix: And there is the proof that gel rounds are actually useful. Warhammer: And Inkubus isn't here to see it. Felix's Catalog spell confirms that the real Faustian codex is in here somewhere. We'd better start digging through the piles of burning books. Felix: What is this, Nazi Germany??? Felix: Does anybody want to open the book and see if it's the real thing this time? Titus:.... Nooooo? At least we drag the Baron out in the hall as we leave. We were explicitly told to not kill him, after all. That doesn't stop Warhammer lobbing a few more incendiaries into the wreckage. Warhammer: He started it. We Weekend At Bernies our way out, with the unconscious Baron being puppeted by invisible shadowrunners, then dump him and the mysterious valise in the garden, and leg it back to Inkubus and the Munchmaussen Riots. Baron: The InTRUders Are over THEERRREEEE. The successful mission, despite some very public side-effects such as the burning town and castle, did remain relatively covert. At least until the selfies of us riding on a dragon hit the Shadownet. Inkubus: This place offended my sensibilities. It had to burn. Felix: You realise this is going to go down in history as the Munchkin Riots, don’t you? Felix: I wonder what a dragon doing a double facepalm look like. Felix: More likely the plan was for Goldie to take the book back by her own route, while our large conspicuous group draws the pursuit. Titus: But we did it so well they don't even know what we look like. Felix: They know one of us speaks German and the rest swear a lot in English. We make it back to Celedyr’s secret underground research facility near Berlin. It’s not there. Warhammer: The dragon’s fucking stiffed us! Inkubus: And this surprises you how? Felix: Huh. I was expecting to find a smoking crater and fiery graffiti reading - Inkubus: ‘Lofwyr was here’ But the money transfer does come through – evidently Celedyr was at least partially satisfied with the result. By the end of it all (and the admittedly expensive Customs inquiries when we went to England and somehow come back from Germany) we all have close to half a million nuyen in the bank. GM: Why are you Runners again? Felix: Because we're adrenaline junkies and idiots.

The Chains of Judgement is in a spot of bother – for one thing we're running for our lives from Imperial authorities who have finally figured out we were going around pretending to be Inquisitors. And, of more immediate concern, we've already been boarded by Millennial Wardens Space Marines. True, not many – probably no more than twenty – but five of them are heading to cut our ships internal comms and power, and our entire compliment of murder-servitors has only managed to slow them down. And the other half of that squad held off Cassius and Aladar and our pet Dreadnought long enough for two to break through towards the bridge. Jrska is on that bridge. She is not known for her combat prowess. True, Sister Joanna, one of those Sisters of Battle that Jrska seduced to the Dark Side, is available to assist, but there's still a good chance that these two marines will stop our escape. Cog is elsewhere, trying to keep Aladar's limbs from falling off. Aladar: My legs are fine! Jrska: Well, you would say that, Torso Boy. Cassius, just now transformed into an immortal hell-entity, curses the fact that he'll never have enough fellowship to acquire the high-class minions his majesty deserves. Jrska OoC: What can I say, my lord? Daemon Princes just don't have friends. Cassius, mind being torn apart by the strain of infinite possibility, has a flashback to his youth before he was inducted into the Storm Crows, and an encounter with a whistling child with a suit three times too big for him, and the Herald welcoming him into the ranks of Daemonhood. The child is the dreadnaught. The daemon is merely one facet of the waves of unreality sweeping through the ship to mark Cassius' ascension. Cog: … I think I'm a sofa. GM: As Reality goes 'fuck this, I'm outta here' Cog and Aladar find two Marine Scouts guarding their Cestus boarding ram. Jrska: over the intercom My Lord? The bridge is about to be stormed. Cassius: in an infrasonic rumble that doesn't even need the intercom UNDERSTOOD The marines storming the bridge manage to expertly trick us – setting up blasting charges outside, in front of the cameras, when they're really attacking us from above, with Scouts, and frag and smoke grenades. The same thing we did when we took the ship for ourselves all those months ago. Jrska: I really should have see that coming. Cog: Go to Brown Alert! The scouts at the boarding ram spot Cog and Aladar. Aladar rolls out into the corridor so he can try and shoot them with Big Bertha, his lascannon. Jrska OoC: sweetly That shouldn't be a problem – you still have Infamy to burn, don't you? Aladar: … yes. Whimper Aladar forgets that this is the outer skin of the ship. Even with the lingering after-effects of Cassius' apotheosis, the laws of physics do not. The resulting hole in the hull – and the scout – is only just small enough to be sealed by one man. Aladar is going to be the man, seeing he was already prone. Lucky for him he was wearing magboots. Cog: If we live through this I will plug that hole with your head. Cassius: Once again Aladar is the biggest threat to the ship. I thought taking him of the helm would stop this happening. Marine Scout: This sucks! On the bridge, in the clouds of smoke, the boarding party are using laser sights. Jrska: Great! Location finders! That's a distraction too – it's the cue for the marines outside to blow the wall. Cassius' player: This is what I get for designing a chapter of tactical geniuses. This isn't supposed to come back and bite me on the arse! GM: Tzeentch and cruel irony. Joanna leaps upwards to slice through the ventilation ducts, and hopefully the scouts inside. Cog: Oh look. Another volunteer to plug holes in the ship. Cassius: And if I make holes in the ship, am I volunteering? Cog: I'll give whoever doesn't do it deliberately a pass. Aladar never gets a pass. Cog: Morals are plummeting like Jrska's neckline. Cassius: Morale. Jrska: And morals. Cassius: OK, he spoke correctly the first time. Cog: I swear – by the amount of punishment Aladar is taking, Grandfather Nurgle must love him. The marines attacking the bridge lock their boarding shields across the hole and blaze away with boltgun and meltas. Add to that the boltgun fire from the ventilation, and it's not surprising that Jrska gets hit repeatedly. She shudders on the deck after the exploding rounds gouge out chunks of skin and muscle, and gasps. Jrska: Do that again. Our dreadnought is still en route to the bridge, and has to endure Hooked on a Feeling, Nyan-cat AND Girl from Ipanema. Cassius: We're sending him by the elevator? GM: You'd rather him take the stairs? Cog: Remember ED-209. Joanna uses a flamer on the Marines – more to block their lines of sight, rather than any expectation it will actually get through their armour. And in such close quarters, she manages to set herself ablaze instead. Cassius, meanwhile, has taken a shortcut around the outside of the ship and bashes his was back in to assist Cog and Aladar. Neither of whom have seen him in his new form, so the blazing THING, nine feet tall, with biceps the size of a Space Marine's torso, is as much as shock to them as it is to the surviving Scout. Jrska OoC: Are you really going to take the time to check its heraldry? Or instead take the much more sensible action of running for your life, possibly neck and neck with the Scout? 'We're all in this together now, boys!' Plus Cog, who for some reason didn't upgrade his feet to electromagnetic, is trying to avoid the howling hurricane spiralling out the hole in the hull. GM: This was an Imperial ship, there are enough handholds. Jrska: And gargoyles. And giant rivets. Cassius: offers assistance to Aladar by holding his force staff out to grab. Cassius: It's only faintly crackling with psychic power. Jrska charges the marines. Her daemonic whip Paintongue, combined with her Beguiling Cleavage, makes short work of the one with the meltagun. Jrska: I want to get shot again! That was fun. The burning battle-nun is likewise throwing herself at the marine in her frenzy. Even their boarding shield fails to prevent the marine's leg vanishing in a cloud of sizzling gristle. The surviving scout on the decks below hurriedly reboards the boarding ram – probably because the controls for the heavy melta guns it used to burn its way into the Chains of Judgement are in there. Cassius doesn't care – mere physical armour is no limitation to the daemonic, even if it is almost proof against Aladar's lascannon. Still, getting the hell out of the way when the high-power melta-cutters open up is a good idea. Cassius: Precognitive Dodge!!! Cog: 'I knew this would happen – I saw it in my cornflakes this morning!' The Cestus ram is attempting to burn its way deeper into the ship. Cog: 'The Cestus Ram is coming!' 'That's what Jrska said!' But sadly for the scout, the Winds of Change completely mutate the ram, its mechanisms, and pilot. Even disentangling his remains will be a geometrical puzzle to give even Cog pause. Cog: I do not require recreation – I am Mechanicus. And then the Chains finally makes it to the edge of the gravitational well of the Solace System, and we can jump to Warpspace. At least their won't be any more marines coming aboard. The fact our entire bridge crew has been slaughtered will be a problem. The remaining marine recovers from Jrska's Beguiling Cleavage long enough to completely sever Jrska's leg and new additional appendage. She'll recover, with Slaanesh's assistance, but even though she loses consciousness from the sheer pleasure of being repeatedly penetrated with a power knife, she's disappointed. Jrska: I was hoping for the meltagun. Being vapourised would have been a real thrill. Cog: When it comes to reattaching Jrska's leg, in deference to her unique talents I won't be putting her under. Let us begin the operation.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

There are many bad places to be in the Shadowrun universe. Anywhere in Australia, for example. Or in the Ork Underground, while wearing a Humanis Policlub badge. But of all the bad places to be, on the 118th floor of a corporate skyscraper, with a pissed off Great Dragon on one side, and a Special Forces killteam and a helicopter gunship on the other, has to be somewhere near the top of the list. Some might argue that the dragon being nominally on our side improves our odds, but that still puts us right in the middle of the crossfire. Warhammer: The dragon's on our side? Felix: He did offer to pay us a quarter-mil nuyen, so he seems favourably inclined. Unless the kill-team is his plan not to pay. Inkubus: Dragons do come up with plots so convoluted they meet themselves coming around corners. Inkubus: I'm sorry but I think this is a problem my dick cannot handle. Greenlight: Well you're just not trying then, are you? For the time being, Celedyr just stands there, roaring his rage at this effrontery. Inkubus: What is he doing? Titus: He's Charging His Laser Luckily for us, the squad of troopers seems a little alarmed to discover that one of their targets is a dragon, and even the lieutenant's full clip of armour-piercing rounds does nothing more than irritate the reptilian. At least the kill-team team don't have all the armour they might do. Inkubus: This is the UK. 'Armoured bodysuit? Why do you need that? It's not like anybody has guns.' Felix: 'I'm going pub-crawling. In Glasgow.' Greenlight: 'Good luck with that.' Titus appears to agree with the maxim 'If all fails, try a frontal assault'. He leaps across the gap between the skyscraper and the chopper. Greenlight hitches a lift. Titus lands spread across the cockpit, and grins unpleasantly at the pilot. Inkubus: Hey! Looks like someone else is trying the power of the D! 'Excuse me while I hump this helicopter' Titus flexes some muscles and tears off the helicopter door's hinges. Greenlight, clinging to Titus' back, leans over the troll's shoulder and pulls the doors off. Pilot: Jesus fuck! Greenlight: Hi! Felix OoC: You just missed the perfect opportunity to say 'Get out' Greenlight: Getting a troll in your rotor blades is not good. Warhammer: Getting a troll on your windshield isn't good either, to be honest. Celedyr responds to this poorly planned assassination attempt by fireballing the entire kill-squad. Happily, most of us have already dropped behind the lab tables when their grenades and ammo cook off. Outside the skyscraper, on the wildly bucking helicopter, Greenlight drops an unprimed grenade between the pilot's legs. He panics and attempts to bail out. Titus helps. Greenlight climbs in. Greenlight: Don't worry, Titus, I've played Microsoft Flight Simulator Titus: That only has planes! Greenlight: I modded it! Titus: So you made up your own controls for helicopters. Greenlight: Yes. Now where's the mouse... They still manage to land the helicopter on a lower skyscraper roof, and hurry to strip it of anything valuable. After all, they'll make nice souvenirs. Greenlight: I got a medikit! Titus: *wrench* I got a minigun! Celedyr: I have an idea who is behind this. I will tolerate no delay. Get on. Inkubus: *picking up the cowering Felix by the scruff* Think of it this way Bubbles – either you fly on the dragon or you can explain to Security why you're leaving without the man who escorted you up. Greenlight OoC: And why the 118th floor is on fire. Greenlight thinks the sight of the dragon and her teammates flying out from the inferno is the best thing ever. Greenlight: This is the greatest day of my life. I'm not even sure I'm real anymore. Is this a dream? Inkubus is sitting up on the back throwing devil horns and screaming 'YEAAAAAH!!!!!'. Felix is just screaming. This will make for a memorable selfie. Inkubus: Don't we need to lodge a flight plan? Oh wait – dragon. Greenlight: What's the in-flight entertainment like? Inkubus: We're on a dragon! The dragon heads east, over the North Sea and multiple countries. Greenlight: I never thought I say this, but flying on a dragon can actually get boring. Inkubus: Look down. Celedyr: I have a secondary lair in Berlin. *chuckles* It's right under Lofwyr's nose. Felix, Labrat, Titus, Greenlight : burst into 'We're all gonna die' tears Warhammer: hysterical laughter Funny guy! Inkubus: just laughing I love this guy! Celedyr lands in a field outside Berlin, and a hillside opens to reveal his secret research base. Felix: At least they aren't wearing anti-static wigs. Labrat: Purple anti-static wigs. Celedyr: Rest. I'll be back in a very few moments. Greenlight: That doesn't sound ominous at all. Titus: If he wants us dead we're done for. Felix: If he wants us dead no-one will ever find the bodies. Labrat: You're being optimistic that there will even be bodies. Titus: There's an entire proverb about doing deals with dragons! Greenlight: When he's got you over a barrel you may as well hear him out! Felix is still certain that we've just gotten involved in a powerplay between two Great Dragons, but even when you're that completely fucked, what can you do? You can't run fast enough to escape the blast zone anyway. Celedyr wants us to go to Bavaria to pick up an overdue book and drop off a valise. The book is called the Pandaemonicus Faustus. Labrat: That does not sound like a good title at all! Inkubus: Pandaemonicus Faustus? We know what a Faustian deal is, we're Shadowrunners! It has a very Metal cover. Inkubus: No good will come of this. Felix: Does anybody want to ask what this errand has to do with the assassination attempt? Inkubus: Probably nothing. Dragon. We initially express our disinclination to accept this commission, despite an offer to quintuple our pay, and Celedyr's obvious displeasure does nothing to reassure us. Our hurried admission that we COULD do the job if we had a translator at least enables us to dodge THAT bullet. Greenlight: Never make a deal with a dragon unless he's very very insistent. And standing right in front of you. The destination is the Schloss Munchmaussen. At this time of year, it can only be reached by cable car. Felix: I've seen that movie. Inkubus: Yeah. The guy with metal teeth bites through the cable. GM: You've going to Latveria to steal a book from Doctor Doom. Inkubus: No – we're going to buy it without his knowledge. We're to meet one Goldie in Bavaria. Warhammer: How attractive is she? Greenlight: And this is why we need a translator. Warhammer can speak German. We just don't want him to. We arrive at the village of Munchmaussen, which is so stereotypically Bavarian, complete with lederhosen, that all it's missing is a Childcatcher. Felix: I fucking told you – they're aliens, and they're turning Earth into a theme park. Greenlight: Well, I give them full marks on the dragon ride anyway. Greenlight: The miniature village of Munchmaussen. Inkubus: We represent, the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild... Inkubus: I'm in Hell. Titus: It's basically Anti-metal, isn't it? Felix, know any illusion spells? Felix: Well, Physical Mask – I could disguise Inkubus as a Von Trapp if I must. Inkubus tries to promote at least something Metal, in sheer mental self-defence, and the complete failure of his Mob Arousal leaves him traumatised. Inkubus: The Hell? What the Hell? The Hell? Greenlight: Nevermind Inkubus, it happens to lots of guys... Inkubus: This place has drained me of all my mojo. However, we eventually realise that there are an awful lot of guard-posts around. And everybody seems to be acting happy. Inkubus: Welcome to Germanyworld. Warhammer: Are you going to give us vodka? Greenlight: That would be Moscowland, next door. 'Occasionally we have dance-offs' sings 'Mos-Co! Mos-Co!' Greenlight: Wait, why aren't Russian Power Rangers a thing?! Think about it, the dancing, the music, the bears. It'd be awesome. Of course, all of the zords would need a dash cam; then you'd KNOW they were Russian! Warhammer: 6th ranger would come from Chernobyl; he glows in the dark. Goldie, back at the hotel, locks the door, drops the facade, the act, and the accent. Titus: --Pulls of the hair extensions and reveals that he was ME, DIO! GM: No She is American. And warns us to be very careful and to not overly rock the boat in the little tourist town from hell. Goldie: Your luggage (our weaponry and equipment, smuggled across the border on our behalf) is on the table Warhammer: *maniacal laugher, grabbing ensues* Goldie: You're going to need to get into the castle Greenlight: I would presume so. Unless he leaves his book out in the street. That'd make it real easy for us. Goldie tells us that there are three ways into the castle. 1) using the skylift to the castle (Greenlight looks at party: lol no), 2) Up the cliff (Titus likes! Very Skyrim), 3) Through the front door (Titus liking intensifies) Felix: Is there any way we can use a boat to get in? They've helped every other time. Felix: Does the Baron have a daughter? GM: No Inkubus: Mother? Titus: Sister? Felix: Maiden Aunt? Inkubus:... Schnauzer? Titus: So we can't use a boat. Felix: Or a boner. Titus: Okay, sneaking or kicking in the door. Greenlight: Sneaking please. Inkubus: We can always fall back on kicking the door in if we sneak. The reverse is problematic. Felix: We're assaulting the Disney castle. You know, if we ever tell anybody that this week we flew on a dragon, then - Inkubus: - and then infiltrated a Disney castle complete with all the minarets and shit, they'd think we were tripping balls. And so do we. It wasn't until we saw the fistful of credsticks we're holding we realised 'that really happened'. Actually, climbing up to the castle isn't that difficult – Titus' sheer strength would enable him to climb greased sheetmetal, and he brought plenty of pitons and rope. Greenlight: I'm pretty sure if the dwarf had a minigun it would be less a minigun then bullet-fuelled rocket pack. Warhammer: It'd be awesome though. Meanwhile, Inkubus is wandering invisibly around time provoking a riot with surreptitious applications of Mob Mood. Townsperson: I can't live like this anymore! I'm not even German! I'm actually Russian! Felix: 'I'm a refugee from Moscowland!' Greenlight: 'My entire life is a lie!' sing and dances the cossack Halfway up the cliff, a missile blows something out of the sky. We freeze, but apparently they haven't noticed us yet. Warhammer: Must be Inkubus' distraction. Inkubus: Could be – I'm not sure how they'll react to having a lifetime of frustration unleashed. Greenlight: 'Oh Franz! We must consummate our love for each other! Even though you are my sister!' Felix: 'Sister'?! Greenlight stun-batons the first security mook in the groin. Which might seem cruel but at least is better then Titus reaching up and throwing him over his shoulder. Felix summons his bound Air Elemental to conceal us and we stroll into the Schloss pretty much undetectable. Inkubus' spell-work is working even better than we could have hoped. Felix: And in the valley below, Munchmaussen is on fire. Greenlight: And a small child has a guard's head on a pike and screaming “Viva la Revolution!' Titus: And speaking French, for some reason. Greenlight: I'm half expecting Donald Duck among them, for some reason. As the castle guards rush down the mountain to suppress the rioting, we enter the building, looking for the study and the book. The secure elevator does indeed have two gaurds inside, but when they stick their heads out to see while the doors just opened for no reason, it's childishly simple for Titus and Greenlight to punch them unconscious. After THAT, getting the book is no difficulty. Well, apart from the fact that the book is a fake. And that the Baron was waiting. Baron: So. That is what you were after. I am disappointed. Guards! Four elementals emerge from the fireplace. Felix: In a library? Is he insane? Greenlight: Well, it's not our fault then. Warhammer – light it up. Warhammer: maniacal laughter GM: I can just imagine Inkubus telling this story drunk at a party. Inkubus: “And then we rode the dragon." Drunk friend: “Duuude, I know you're into some kinky shit, but a 7-way? With a DRAGON?!”

Well, she is a hyena-headed beastwoman - it was probably inevitable

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.

It occurs to me that at the start of the game Vitus was saying that digging latrines would be too demeaning, and he ended up at the bottom of a disgusting pit anyway.