Drhoz

Inkubus OoC: We still have to figure out how we met.
Felix OoC: Craigslist.
Inkubus OoC: I probably used my usual trick - turned up with a really expensive bottle of wine.

Inkubus: Felix and I both like the good things in life
Titus: It's your only good point
Inkubus: I like all the debased things in life too. I just like life

On Inkubus' ability to solve every problem with his 'charisma'

Inkubus: When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail
Felix: 'the hammer is my penis'?

Anyway, regarding the latest job, getting the band back together. Specifically, the Elementals, back to their recording company. This we achieved by convincing them Shadowrunners were after them, staging a raid on our home, and dragging their unconscious behinds off to one of our hideouts.

We then reinforced this 'ransoming' them back to their company, thus making the company look good, and the band unlikely to try going independent again in future. Just a little bonus for our employer - it's little touches like that that ensure repeat business.

Inkubus: Not bad for having a concussion grenade go off between my legs.
Titus: How are the plums, anyway?

In fact, the client is so impressed he immediately offers us extra work - in order to promote the Elemental's latest album, they were going to be filming a music tri-vid. Of course, the band doing a runner wrecked the schedule, which is extremely inconvenient, since they were going to be filming outside Seattle's border in Salish-Shidhe (one of the Native American States) and the permit to do so has now expired. Perhaps our team can escort the band and film crew across anyway, so they can get the filming done anyway without anyone noticing?

Inkubus: I wonder where they want to film that's so important
Inkubus: Mt Rainier?Felix: Mt. Rainier? That's an active volcano isn't it?
Inkubus: We better not be filming there.
Felix: Wouldn't surprise me - they are the Elementals.

Felix: Bloody artistic integrity - can't they find a forest this side of the border to film in?

A major challenge, given half the team were the ones that 'kidnapped' them the day before. This new mission will need some thought before we accept - even though Labrat actually has dual citizenship of Seattle and Salish-Shidhe, we're going to need bribe money at the very least.

Greenlight: We're going to need extra money for this - one of us has already taken a stun grenade to the balls tonight.

GM: He's willing to let you keep the any vehicles and materiel you require.
Felix: 'We require a nuclear submarine.'

Inkubus: We'll use a novel technique to get past the border patrol - the truth. 'We HAD a permit, and these pricks went and run off to do their own thing - you know artistic types - and by the time we got them back the visa expired.'
Felix: 'and THIS prick insists on artistic integrity, so we have to film in your forest'.

Greenlight: Get your Inkubus Action Figure!
Felix: With Realistic Hip Thrusting Action!
Greenlight: Irrational Hatred of Scarves!
Felix: Dressed like a Chippendale Dancer!

Thus back to Titus' hide-out - the one with the sealed-up windows, sunlamps, and indoor farm. Of vegetables and chickens, not weed, since real food is rather more desirable than drugs these days. It also has something new - a vampiric assassin, who drops on us from the ceiling, spraying magic and automatic gunfire with gay abandon.

Inkubus OoC: Fangs for the Memories! One Shadowrunner! Two Shadowrunners! Three Shadowrunners! HAHAHAHA

FelixOoC: I wonder who we pissed off so much that they sent a vampire after us.

Despite the fact we outnumber him severely, the vampire is a formidable opponent. Even the fact that the entire team consists of mages and adepts didn't given him reason to pause.

Felix OoC: So six of us vs. one guy is a worse fight than us vs. several hundred bikers.
Inkubus OoC: Yup. Conservation of ninjitsu - 'hey, they only sent one ninja! ..... We're boned.'

Felix calls up a bound Earth Elemental, before being gunned down ( good thing he bought that very very expensive bulletproof coat ).

Labrat: So a big orange rocky thing has appeared, saying 'It's clobbering time!'?

Actually, no - the elemental itself is badly outclassed. Especially since the vampire can go to mist form and still cast magic. It's only Titus' desperate swing with his sledgehammer that saves us, since even in mist form, carriers of the vampire virus are still violently allergic to wood.

Labrat: We have wood for vampire

Greenlight manages to disarm and stun the bastard with a shock baton, and we tie him to a wooden chair for magical interrogation. We haven't figured out the allergy thing yet, but once we notice the haemorrhaging hit points we realise we'd better hurry. Since we don't dare risk untying him, either. Inkubus gets to work, telepathically ripping out the vampire's banking details, safety deposit box numbers, and anything else we can use. Such as the information that he was trying to kill us, as a favour for his friend Eclipse - the music exec that hired us.

Inkubus: Jeez, I know they say the music industry is a bunch of bloodsuckers, I didn't think they meant it literally.

We are more than slightly pissed off - after going to all that trouble to make the exec look good, being assassinated as loose ends is a bit aggravating. Naturally, we intend to reciprocate.

Inkubus: We'll send him a photo of his assassin tied to a chair
Greenlight: With a caption - See You Soon

Labrat: I'll include a musical sting 'nana nana, nana nana, hey hey hey, goodbye'

To add insult to injury, we'll 'rescue' that band and help them go independent.

Inkubus: We're going to rescue them. I 'hired' the very Shadowrunners that kidnapped them in the first place
Felix: Schlock Mercenary -
All: WE GET PAID TWICE
Inkubus: Do the happy dance, Tagon!

Labrat finishes off the dying assassin in a manner that would make Cronenberg or Kurosawa proud.

Greenlight: Jesus Christ, Labrat, what the fuck?!?! I thought you were going to cut his throat, not cut his fucking head off! Are you fucking Yakuza!?!

Hopefully, nobody will catch HMHVV from all the blood that sprays around.

So, time for revenge - Inkubus and Felix will set up shop a few kilometres away with telescopes, where they can overlook the exec's penthouse apartment in an otherwise empty ten-storey block. Line-of-sight magic is so damn useful. Labrat and Greenlight will go up the inside of the building, working their way past any security. Titus and Warhammer will climb up the outside. Then, when we're all in position, we send the 'Seeing You Soon' gif to the target and each other, to scare the execs shitless and then render him lifeless while he's panicking.

Greenlight: This is a military-grade lock. I've only heard of these things in a theoretical 'zine. This might actually be a challenge.
Labrat: *ClickclickclickPOP* Or not.

As it happens, our elaborate efforts are wasted - he's not home. His giant salamander fire elemental is.

Felix: He's got a fucking pet crocodile!

There's a naga too, hiding in the teepee/medicine lodge set up in one of the rooms, but after he sees what happens to the salamander he surrenders without a fight. At least this explains how the exec knew where to send the vampire - he's a magician. And according to certain notes on his computer, found while the team is busy ransacking the place, he's intending to use the band to awaken an ancient and probably evil spirit called Twilight.

Greenlight: Eclipse? Twilight?
Inkubus: Noooooooo! The Sparkles! The Sparkles!
Felix: And their video director is Lupus.
Inkubus: Damn you Stephanie Meyers!

It's also a full moon. But at least this explains why he tried to have us killed - we were rather more important loose ends than we thought.

GM: Who enters the teepee first?
All: *point at the troll*

Kaa, the Naga, happily comes with us. He should find the sunlamps and pond at Titus' hide-out quite comfortable. Such are the drawbacks of using intelligent creatures as your slaves - they tend to resent it.

Titus: Kaa... Which is... Ukrainian for Penis?
All: *give Titus a Look*

Inkubus: Hang about, I've got the badge - Nagas Are People Too

Just prior to setting the apartment on fire and blaming the salamander, one last ransacking for anything valuable, anything magical, anything that should be given to the band, and anything we can use for a long distance magical attack on the exec. Hair and fingernail clippings would be good.

Felix: Did you check the drain in his shower?
Greenlight: I was afraid to touch it
Labrat: He was afraid it would become sentient and attack him.

So off on a cross-border roadtrip, to stop a major ritual, kill a backstabbing exec, liberate a band, and avoid whatever werewolves, snipers, and other protections Eclipse has arranged. There's no point telling the authorities - even if they believed us it would take too long for them to get off their collective asses.
 

Inkubus OoC: We still have to figure out how we met.
Felix OoC: Craigslist.
Inkubus OoC: I probably used my usual trick - turned up with a really expensive bottle of wine.

Inkubus: Felix and I both like the good things in life
Titus: It's your only good point
Inkubus: I like all the debased things in life too. I just like life

On Inkubus' ability to solve every problem with his 'charisma'

Inkubus: When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail
Felix: 'the hammer is my penis'?

Anyway, regarding the latest job, getting the band back together. Specifically, the Elementals, back to their recording company. This we achieved by convincing them Shadowrunners were after them, staging a raid on our home, and dragging their unconscious behinds off to one of our hideouts.

We then reinforced this 'ransoming' them back to their company, thus making the company look good, and the band unlikely to try going independent again in future. Just a little bonus for our employer - it's little touches like that that ensure repeat business.

Inkubus: Not bad for having a concussion grenade go off between my legs.
Titus: How are the plums, anyway?

In fact, the client is so impressed he immediately offers us extra work - in order to promote the Elemental's latest album, they were going to be filming a music tri-vid. Of course, the band doing a runner wrecked the schedule, which is extremely inconvenient, since they were going to be filming outside Seattle's border in Salish-Shidhe (one of the Native American States) and the permit to do so has now expired. Perhaps our team can escort the band and film crew across anyway, so they can get the filming done anyway without anyone noticing?

Inkubus: I wonder where they want to film that's so important
Inkubus: Mt Rainier?Felix: Mt. Rainier? That's an active volcano isn't it?
Inkubus: We better not be filming there.
Felix: Wouldn't surprise me - they are the Elementals.

Felix: Bloody artistic integrity - can't they find a forest this side of the border to film in?

A major challenge, given half the team were the ones that 'kidnapped' them the day before. This new mission will need some thought before we accept - even though Labrat actually has dual citizenship of Seattle and Salish-Shidhe, we're going to need bribe money at the very least.

Greenlight: We're going to need extra money for this - one of us has already taken a stun grenade to the balls tonight.

GM: He's willing to let you keep the any vehicles and materiel you require.
Felix: 'We require a nuclear submarine.'

Inkubus: We'll use a novel technique to get past the border patrol - the truth. 'We HAD a permit, and these pricks went and run off to do their own thing - you know artistic types - and by the time we got them back the visa expired.'
Felix: 'and THIS prick insists on artistic integrity, so we have to film in your forest'.

Greenlight: Get your Inkubus Action Figure!
Felix: With Realistic Hip Thrusting Action!
Greenlight: Irrational Hatred of Scarves!
Felix: Dressed like a Chippendale Dancer!

Thus back to Titus' hide-out - the one with the sealed-up windows, sunlamps, and indoor farm. Of vegetables and chickens, not weed, since real food is rather more desirable than drugs these days. It also has something new - a vampiric assassin, who drops on us from the ceiling, spraying magic and automatic gunfire with gay abandon.

Inkubus OoC: Fangs for the Memories! One Shadowrunner! Two Shadowrunners! Three Shadowrunners! HAHAHAHA

FelixOoC: I wonder who we pissed off so much that they sent a vampire after us.

Despite the fact we outnumber him severely, the vampire is a formidable opponent. Even the fact that the entire team consists of mages and adepts didn't given him reason to pause.

Felix OoC: So six of us vs. one guy is a worse fight than us vs. several hundred bikers.
Inkubus OoC: Yup. Conservation of ninjitsu - 'hey, they only sent one ninja! ..... We're boned.'

Felix calls up a bound Earth Elemental, before being gunned down ( good thing he bought that very very expensive bulletproof coat ).

Labrat: So a big orange rocky thing has appeared, saying 'It's clobbering time!'?

Actually, no - the elemental itself is badly outclassed. Especially since the vampire can go to mist form and still cast magic. It's only Titus' desperate swing with his sledgehammer that saves us, since even in mist form, carriers of the vampire virus are still violently allergic to wood.

Labrat: We have wood for vampire

Greenlight manages to disarm and stun the bastard with a shock baton, and we tie him to a wooden chair for magical interrogation. We haven't figured out the allergy thing yet, but once we notice the haemorrhaging hit points we realise we'd better hurry. Since we don't dare risk untying him, either. Inkubus gets to work, telepathically ripping out the vampire's banking details, safety deposit box numbers, and anything else we can use. Such as the information that he was trying to kill us, as a favour for his friend Eclipse - the music exec that hired us.

Inkubus: Jeez, I know they say the music industry is a bunch of bloodsuckers, I didn't think they meant it literally.

We are more than slightly pissed off - after going to all that trouble to make the exec look good, being assassinated as loose ends is a bit aggravating. Naturally, we intend to reciprocate.

Inkubus: We'll send him a photo of his assassin tied to a chair
Greenlight: With a caption - See You Soon

Labrat: I'll include a musical sting 'nana nana, nana nana, hey hey hey, goodbye'

To add insult to injury, we'll 'rescue' that band and help them go independent.

Inkubus: We're going to rescue them. I 'hired' the very Shadowrunners that kidnapped them in the first place
Felix: Schlock Mercenary -
All: WE GET PAID TWICE
Inkubus: Do the happy dance, Tagon!

Labrat finishes off the dying assassin in a manner that would make Cronenberg or Kurosawa proud.

Greenlight: Jesus Christ, Labrat, what the fuck?!?! I thought you were going to cut his throat, not cut his fucking head off! Are you fucking Yakuza!?!

Hopefully, nobody will catch HMHVV from all the blood that sprays around.

So, time for revenge - Inkubus and Felix will set up shop a few kilometres away with telescopes, where they can overlook the exec's penthouse apartment in an otherwise empty ten-storey block. Line-of-sight magic is so damn useful. Labrat and Greenlight will go up the inside of the building, working their way past any security. Titus and Warhammer will climb up the outside. Then, when we're all in position, we send the 'Seeing You Soon' gif to the target and each other, to scare the execs shitless and then render him lifeless while he's panicking.

Greenlight: This is a military-grade lock. I've only heard of these things in a theoretical 'zine. This might actually be a challenge.
Labrat: *ClickclickclickPOP* Or not.

As it happens, our elaborate efforts are wasted - he's not home. His giant salamander fire elemental is.

Felix: He's got a fucking pet crocodile!

There's a naga too, hiding in the teepee/medicine lodge set up in one of the rooms, but after he sees what happens to the salamander he surrenders without a fight. At least this explains how the exec knew where to send the vampire - he's a magician. And according to certain notes on his computer, found while the team is busy ransacking the place, he's intending to use the band to awaken an ancient and probably evil spirit called Twilight.

Greenlight: Eclipse? Twilight?
Inkubus: Noooooooo! The Sparkles! The Sparkles!
Felix: And their video director is Lupus.
Inkubus: Damn you Stephanie Meyers!

It's also a full moon. But at least this explains why he tried to have us killed - we were rather more important loose ends than we thought.

GM: Who enters the teepee first?
All: *point at the troll*

Kaa, the Naga, happily comes with us. He should find the sunlamps and pond at Titus' hide-out quite comfortable. Such are the drawbacks of using intelligent creatures as your slaves - they tend to resent it.

Titus: Kaa... Which is... Ukrainian for Penis?
All: *give Titus a Look*

Inkubus: Hang about, I've got the badge - Nagas Are People Too

Just prior to setting the apartment on fire and blaming the salamander, one last ransacking for anything valuable, anything magical, anything that should be given to the band, and anything we can use for a long distance magical attack on the exec. Hair and fingernail clippings would be good.

Felix: Did you check the drain in his shower?
Greenlight: I was afraid to touch it
Labrat: He was afraid it would become sentient and attack him.

So off on a cross-border roadtrip, to stop a major ritual, kill a backstabbing exec, liberate a band, and avoid whatever werewolves, snipers, and other protections Eclipse has arranged. There's no point telling the authorities - even if they believed us it would take too long for them to get off their collective asses.
 

The plan : help that Imperial starship out of the Vortex, so they'll unwittingly feed information back to the forces of Chaos - i.e. Us.

Doing so, however, means using the Thirteenth Station, the only safe route in and out of the Screaming Vortex, and even then most Chaos ships sacrifice a few hundred slaves before they dare. Over the centuries, the frozen corpses have become something of a nuisance. The blockade fleet that patrols this side of the Warpgate is a nuisance as well.

Aladar: So what am I flying and what am I shooting?
Cog: You're not flying anything.
Jrska OoC: And you're not shooting anything because Jrska cut your balls off.

Cassius' ploy - Lure the fleet away from the gate, while our new 'friends' sneak past, silent running. We'll be towing the hulk of that raider ship we shot up too, so the prospect of an apparently Inquisitorial ship, with something no-doubt valuable in tow, should be irresistible.

Of course, we also have to repair the Imperial ship, strip the raider, and pull off our stunt, without anybody , including our own mix of mutant and deluded Emperor-worshipping crew, figuring out what we're actually doing. Tricky, given Cassius' winged mutation, disturbing psychic aura, and the need to work closely with the naive Imperial captain.

Jrska: Not as disturbing as me. And then there's the drooling noises whenever the captain is around and I'm there.

At least Jrska has something to distract her - brainwashing that Space Marine Dreadnought.

Cassius: I gave Jrska a challenge - break someone who is immune to sensation.
Jrska: That's OK, I'm watching chick flicks with him. Non-stop. For days on end.

Cassius: Jrska - I want you to select the prize crew for the raider. I want them competent, and loyal. A proportion of them are allowed to be worshippers of Slaanesh.
Jrska: ... 100% is a proportion...
Cassius: Not more than 1 in 10

Aladar van Rijn attempts to make himself useful, by getting some neural upgrades from the ships' Magos-engineer. He phrases it in a way that would make Slaanesh proud.

Aladar: I'm plugging myself into Father.
All: ....

He remains useless. The opening move of the Cassius Gambit nearly stalls the engine and almost tears the hulk free of its tow chains.

Aladar: Why are there four pedals when there are six directions?
Cassius: Why do you insist on flying the ship when you're no good at it?

Happily, the rest of us can offset Aladar's failings, by intimidating, cajoling, and exhorting the crew into working harder.

Aladar: Why do you keep calling it extorting the crew?
Jrska: Because I'm making them do stuff

Even then, there are limits to what we can achieve, even as we run rings around the blockade's formidable raiders, and start earning the attention of the hulking and extremely formidable cruisers.

Jrska: No matter how fast I beat the drum, they're not going to turn the ship any faster.

Aladar: The engines cannae take it, Captain!
Cassius: You weren't raised by the Adeptus Mechanicus - you don't know that ancient prayer

But it works ( apparently Aladar can remember how to pilot a ship if Cassius threatens to flay him alive ) and the Chains of Judgement retreats into the Vortex, and that delectable captain and her ship make a successful dash for the Thirteenth Station. No doubt the blockade's admiral will carry out a few disciplinary executions.

Back to Jrska's brother's lair in the Ragged Helix, where we discover that some of his supposedly loyal minions attempted a coup. There's considerable damage, but at least the traitors were driven off. Cassius is annoyed by this evidence of Chaos' unreliability.

Cassius: I make a point of not screwing people over until they've screwed me.
Jrska: ... Interesting phrasing, my lord.

Some of the survivors suspect it was Jrska's arrival that prompted the coup - a more important question is who egged it on? Leading suspects include Seyr the Bereft, who we acquired that Tyrant's Cord for months ago, and Gray the Mercenary.

Cassius: I don't buy it. Gray has always been like me, an honourable -
Jrska: So he was acting out of character, my lord?
Cassius: ...True.
Aladar: You think he was mind-controlled?
Jrska: No. I'm implying that his persona of an honourable mercenary may be just that - a persona.

Cassius: For some reason you're earning more infamy than me, and I don't know why.
Jrska: Perhaps it was the thing with the penguin, my lord.

But there we had to leave it for the session, after helping with the clean-up and acquiring a few more shiny things from the piles of wreckage. We still have to get more weapons built into the Chains, too. Perhaps something powered by that vault-full of tortured human souls?

The plan : help that Imperial starship out of the Vortex, so they'll unwittingly feed information back to the forces of Chaos - i.e. Us.

Doing so, however, means using the Thirteenth Station, the only safe route in and out of the Screaming Vortex, and even then most Chaos ships sacrifice a few hundred slaves before they dare. Over the centuries, the frozen corpses have become something of a nuisance. The blockade fleet that patrols this side of the Warpgate is a nuisance as well.

Aladar: So what am I flying and what am I shooting?
Cog: You're not flying anything.
Jrska OoC: And you're not shooting anything because Jrska cut your balls off.

Cassius' ploy - Lure the fleet away from the gate, while our new 'friends' sneak past, silent running. We'll be towing the hulk of that raider ship we shot up too, so the prospect of an apparently Inquisitorial ship, with something no-doubt valuable in tow, should be irresistible.

Of course, we also have to repair the Imperial ship, strip the raider, and pull off our stunt, without anybody , including our own mix of mutant and deluded Emperor-worshipping crew, figuring out what we're actually doing. Tricky, given Cassius' winged mutation, disturbing psychic aura, and the need to work closely with the naive Imperial captain.

Jrska: Not as disturbing as me. And then there's the drooling noises whenever the captain is around and I'm there.

At least Jrska has something to distract her - brainwashing that Space Marine Dreadnought.

Cassius: I gave Jrska a challenge - break someone who is immune to sensation.
Jrska: That's OK, I'm watching chick flicks with him. Non-stop. For days on end.

Cassius: Jrska - I want you to select the prize crew for the raider. I want them competent, and loyal. A proportion of them are allowed to be worshippers of Slaanesh.
Jrska: ... 100% is a proportion...
Cassius: Not more than 1 in 10

Aladar van Rijn attempts to make himself useful, by getting some neural upgrades from the ships' Magos-engineer. He phrases it in a way that would make Slaanesh proud.

Aladar: I'm plugging myself into Father.
All: ....

He remains useless. The opening move of the Cassius Gambit nearly stalls the engine and almost tears the hulk free of its tow chains.

Aladar: Why are there four pedals when there are six directions?
Cassius: Why do you insist on flying the ship when you're no good at it?

Happily, the rest of us can offset Aladar's failings, by intimidating, cajoling, and exhorting the crew into working harder.

Aladar: Why do you keep calling it extorting the crew?
Jrska: Because I'm making them do stuff

Even then, there are limits to what we can achieve, even as we run rings around the blockade's formidable raiders, and start earning the attention of the hulking and extremely formidable cruisers.

Jrska: No matter how fast I beat the drum, they're not going to turn the ship any faster.

Aladar: The engines cannae take it, Captain!
Cassius: You weren't raised by the Adeptus Mechanicus - you don't know that ancient prayer

But it works ( apparently Aladar can remember how to pilot a ship if Cassius threatens to flay him alive ) and the Chains of Judgement retreats into the Vortex, and that delectable captain and her ship make a successful dash for the Thirteenth Station. No doubt the blockade's admiral will carry out a few disciplinary executions.

Back to Jrska's brother's lair in the Ragged Helix, where we discover that some of his supposedly loyal minions attempted a coup. There's considerable damage, but at least the traitors were driven off. Cassius is annoyed by this evidence of Chaos' unreliability.

Cassius: I make a point of not screwing people over until they've screwed me.
Jrska: ... Interesting phrasing, my lord.

Some of the survivors suspect it was Jrska's arrival that prompted the coup - a more important question is who egged it on? Leading suspects include Seyr the Bereft, who we acquired that Tyrant's Cord for months ago, and Gray the Mercenary.

Cassius: I don't buy it. Gray has always been like me, an honourable -
Jrska: So he was acting out of character, my lord?
Cassius: ...True.
Aladar: You think he was mind-controlled?
Jrska: No. I'm implying that his persona of an honourable mercenary may be just that - a persona.

Cassius: For some reason you're earning more infamy than me, and I don't know why.
Jrska: Perhaps it was the thing with the penguin, my lord.

But there we had to leave it for the session, after helping with the clean-up and acquiring a few more shiny things from the piles of wreckage. We still have to get more weapons built into the Chains, too. Perhaps something powered by that vault-full of tortured human souls?

The plan : help that Imperial starship out of the Vortex, so they'll unwittingly feed information back to the forces of Chaos - i.e. Us.

Doing so, however, means using the Thirteenth Station, the only safe route in and out of the Screaming Vortex, and even then most Chaos ships sacrifice a few hundred slaves before they dare. Over the centuries, the frozen corpses have become something of a nuisance. The blockade fleet that patrols this side of the Warpgate is a nuisance as well.

Aladar: So what am I flying and what am I shooting?
Cog: You're not flying anything.
Jrska OoC: And you're not shooting anything because Jrska cut your balls off.

Cassius' ploy - Lure the fleet away from the gate, while our new 'friends' sneak past, silent running. We'll be towing the hulk of that raider ship we shot up too, so the prospect of an apparently Inquisitorial ship, with something no-doubt valuable in tow, should be irresistible.

Of course, we also have to repair the Imperial ship, strip the raider, and pull off our stunt, without anybody , including our own mix of mutant and deluded Emperor-worshipping crew, figuring out what we're actually doing. Tricky, given Cassius' winged mutation, disturbing psychic aura, and the need to work closely with the naive Imperial captain.

Jrska: Not as disturbing as me. And then there's the drooling noises whenever the captain is around and I'm there.

At least Jrska has something to distract her - brainwashing that Space Marine Dreadnought.

Cassius: I gave Jrska a challenge - break someone who is immune to sensation.
Jrska: That's OK, I'm watching chick flicks with him. Non-stop. For days on end.

Cassius: Jrska - I want you to select the prize crew for the raider. I want them competent, and loyal. A proportion of them are allowed to be worshippers of Slaanesh.
Jrska: ... 100% is a proportion...
Cassius: Not more than 1 in 10

Aladar van Rijn attempts to make himself useful, by getting some neural upgrades from the ships' Magos-engineer. He phrases it in a way that would make Slaanesh proud.

Aladar: I'm plugging myself into Father.
All: ....

He remains useless. The opening move of the Cassius Gambit nearly stalls the engine and almost tears the hulk free of its tow chains.

Aladar: Why are there four pedals when there are six directions?
Cassius: Why do you insist on flying the ship when you're no good at it?

Happily, the rest of us can offset Aladar's failings, by intimidating, cajoling, and exhorting the crew into working harder.

Aladar: Why do you keep calling it extorting the crew?
Jrska: Because I'm making them do stuff

Even then, there are limits to what we can achieve, even as we run rings around the blockade's formidable raiders, and start earning the attention of the hulking and extremely formidable cruisers.

Jrska: No matter how fast I beat the drum, they're not going to turn the ship any faster.

Aladar: The engines cannae take it, Captain!
Cassius: You weren't raised by the Adeptus Mechanicus - you don't know that ancient prayer

But it works ( apparently Aladar can remember how to pilot a ship if Cassius threatens to flay him alive ) and the Chains of Judgement retreats into the Vortex, and that delectable captain and her ship make a successful dash for the Thirteenth Station. No doubt the blockade's admiral will carry out a few disciplinary executions.

Back to Jrska's brother's lair in the Ragged Helix, where we discover that some of his supposedly loyal minions attempted a coup. There's considerable damage, but at least the traitors were driven off. Cassius is annoyed by this evidence of Chaos' unreliability.

Cassius: I make a point of not screwing people over until they've screwed me.
Jrska: ... Interesting phrasing, my lord.

Some of the survivors suspect it was Jrska's arrival that prompted the coup - a more important question is who egged it on? Leading suspects include Seyr the Bereft, who we acquired that Tyrant's Cord for months ago, and Gray the Mercenary.

Cassius: I don't buy it. Gray has always been like me, an honourable -
Jrska: So he was acting out of character, my lord?
Cassius: ...True.
Aladar: You think he was mind-controlled?
Jrska: No. I'm implying that his persona of an honourable mercenary may be just that - a persona.

Cassius: For some reason you're earning more infamy than me, and I don't know why.
Jrska: Perhaps it was the thing with the penguin, my lord.

But there we had to leave it for the session, after helping with the clean-up and acquiring a few more shiny things from the piles of wreckage. We still have to get more weapons built into the Chains, too. Perhaps something powered by that vault-full of tortured human souls?

Quotes from Owlcon - part I
 
Pulp Hero "The Fiendish Plan of Dr. Mephisto"
 
The Sentinels of Justice investigated the mysterious disappearance of a skyscraper.
 
GM: Theron
Dirk Morgan: a newspaper editor
Huan Ju Morgan: Dirk's Chinese adopted sister, a martial artist
Dr. Diogenes Sinclair: a jungle doctor
"Pat" Garrett: an Arizona cowgirl
Jeremiah "Sparks" McGee: a mad scientist
Eugene Bullard: a black American fighter pilot who fought in French Foreign Legion during the Great War
The Amazing Bosco Patterson: an acrobat and brawler
 
A 27 story skyscraper was under construction. Then it disappeared. All that remained was the foundation.
Dirk: "I could have sworn that I parked it right here."
 
Elmo, a homeless man, was the only witness.
Bosco: (to Elmo) "There's a drink in it for you."
Elmo: (slurring) "I don't touch the stuff."
Bosco: "You don't touch it ... but you will drink it."
 
The Sentinels of Justice were attacked by a group of mooks.
Huan Ju: (catching a mook's fist in her hand) "Denied."
 
Pat tried to climb a fire escape to reach a gunman. The fire escape wouldn't lower, which left her hanging from the bottom rung.
Pat: "Could you give me a boost?"
Sparks threw his wrench at the mechanism, freeing it and allowing the fire escape to deploy.
Sparks: "I used my science."
 
The Sentinels of Justice tracked Dr. Mephisto down to his dirigible. While Eugene flew the plane, the rest parachuted onto the top of the dirigible, then climbed down through the superstructure. When they were attacked by mooks, Pat lassoed one of them and pulled him so he was dangling by one leg.
Dr. Sinclair: Piñata time.
 
While the rest of the team climbed down through the superstructure, Eugene discovered that the dirigible had a "trapeze": a mechanism which allowed it to deploy and retrieve a small fighter plane. The Sentinels' seaplane had a hook, allowing it to make use of the trapeze. Even though the seaplane was too large for this trapeze, Eugene managed to catch the seaplane's hook on the trapeze, wedge the seaplane up into the dirigible's hangar, climb out of the seaplane, fight off two mooks and sneak onto the dirigible.
 
Eugene coincidentally entered the dirigible just as the rest of the group climbed down out of the superstructure.
Dr. Sinclair: (to Eugene) "It took you long enough."
Eugene: "I had a hard time finding a place to park."
Bosco: "Parking is hell in New York."
Eugene: "I nearly got towed."

Celebrating the successful dreamchip run with a dinner party at Felix and Inkubus' apartment

Greenlight: My mother was really big on Natural foods. But it's taken three years on nutrasoy for me to really appreciate her cooking.

Felix: hmm. Nutrasoy autocorrects to Nut Raspy
Greenlight: I don't think I've been eating that for three years

But what should be on the menu? A garden salad from the hydroponic garden, crumbed real pork cutlets for the main course, and so on.

Felix: We'll hit that grocery.
Inkubus: No.
Felix: Not in a criminal sense!

Felix: Something simple for dessert...
Inkubus: Strawberry mousse with whipped cream?
Felix: I think I saw some nutmeg at the store.

The drinks with each course are an important consideration, too. Inkubus selects one of his favorites - an import from one of the Elf nations, that's 500 NuYen a bottle.

Felix: The wine locker has a better lock than the apartment.

Indeed it does. Including palm-print recognition, and a level four maglock.

Warhammer: What do you do when you get drunk?
Felix: You do not get drunk on this wine.
Inkubus: This is for special occasions - if I want to get drunk I go out.

Felix: I do wonder what will happen the first time someone breaks in here and sees all the security is on the wine locker.

A wild job offer appears! Apparently some band are trying to run out on their recording contract. The company want them and their album back. This sounds like an ideal job for Inkubus, given his links to Seattle's entertainment scene. The Johnson wants to meet us at a stripper bar.

Felix: The Pink Pitbull?
Inkubus: Is that the one where I have to wear a chain and padlock as a belt?

Greenlight: I was hoping somebody would know the club.
Felix: Why is everybody looking at me?

Inkubus: I think the rest of the party might like some warning if it's a male strip joint.
GM: They're women
Inkubus: OK
Titus: But they're all trolls.

Inkubus eyes the almost pornographic neon displays outside, and tries to resist temptation, just like he tries to resist everything else.

Warhammer: Just walk it off, dude.
Inkubus: Hey, I've NEVER had to pay for it.

Inkubus: I don't think you can use Orgasm on yourself
Felix: If you could, you'll never go out
Inkubus: True

The decor at the Pink Pitbull leaves something to be desired

Greenlight: Jesus Christ, this is like the shattered dreams of a 50 year-old Barbie

Greenlight: I thought we were retrieving property, not people
Titus: You honestly think the corps make any distinction?

Staking out the private recording studio where the band are believed to be working,opposite a mall.

Inkubus: Redmond Morgue?
GM: Mall.
Inkubus: Ah, not morgue then.
Greenlight: Depends on the day.

Inkubus: It'll be just our luck that they're a former Shadowrun team.
Felix: Thank you for that exercise in pessimism

Felix: I'm fascinated to see just how badly this can go wrong. There's a certain morbid curiosity.
Warhammer: That's why I came along

The band are indeed there - and proceed to leave in four different directions. And we only had one radio tracking bug. We hurriedly split up in pursuit. Titus gets sent after Bambi, the band's troll drummer.

Warhammer: Troll on troll.
Felix: You might want to rephrase that.
Inkubus: People will pay a lot of money to see that. Ever had a troll roll? I recommend it.

At least we managed to track some of them home to their shops and apartments. Unfortunately, some of us also get spotted. By a bizarre coincidence, the band's lead singer lives only a few blocks away from Inkubus and Felix. This suggests a new ploy - rather than drag them back to their corporate masters, persuade them.

Titus: Fetch the charisma stick!
Greenlight: Hoist the Charisma Beam! Free hookers and beer here!
Warhammer: Hwah? Where's that beam?

Greenlight: 'I have pointed ears, therefore I have charisma.'
Felix: Just ask Spock.
Greenlight: *turns Vulcan salute into a one-fingered salute*

Inkubus turns up at Whispering Wind's door, with a bottle of extremely expensive booze, to talk to the young woman about independent recording contracts and promotional opportunities. While he's there, however, Bambi calls up with a somewhat frantic tale about how they were tailed back to their shop by Titus. W.W. naturally assumes Inkubus is part of the snatch team, and rolls a concussion grenade under his chair. Lurking on the street, the youth Greenlight hears the explosion and comes running.

Greenlight: That was quick. It usually takes longer than this.
Felix: And the worst thing? It'll shatter the bottle.

Greenlight: Are you alright in there? We heard a loud banging!
Felix: *snrk*

Inkubus modifies the plan on the fly - if they can't be persuaded, perhaps they can be scared back into the fold. He plays stunned but innocent. Greenlight, outside the door, might be one of the snatch team! Inkubus proceeds to scare Whispering Wind with stories about how scary shadowrunners can be - after all, he has material to work from.

Inkubus: Did you say somebody was trying to kidnap you? Do you think that might be one of them?

Felix: 'Those guys are all crazy! They'll stop at nothing! I heard they kidnapped some Hoillywood exec's girlfriend right from his yacht!'

Inkubus: That grenade was supposed to stop a shadowrunner? It didn't even stop me!

Titus: 'They could be anywhere! Shadowrunners are like ninjas!'
Warhammer: 'Except for the troll'

Inkubus: You need a safehouse - somewhere completely unconnected to you. Hey! I live a few blocks away! Just a minute, I'll need to call my flatmate and clear it with him.
Titus OoC: Beware a social character doing his job.

Felix: He's just talked them into hiding out at our apartment
Warhammer: .... F**k, he can spin some shit, can't he? That's why I do the shooting and he does the talking.

Greenlight dresses like a villain from one of the Shadowrun movies, and follows Inkubus and Whispering Wind down the street, until they 'lose' him. Of course, once the entire band has been gathered at the apartment, there's a chance of blowback if they ever do find out how they're been conned. Text messages are hurriedly exchanged. Warhammer, Felix, and Inkubus will be babysitting the band. Titus and Greenlight wait to launch their attack. Warhammer and Inkubus do their best to make the band rethink going independent, while Felix plays the sceptic.

Inkubus: I'll convince them it's our safe house - what sort of idiot would take you to their actual home?

Inkubus: You need to have more faith in me.
Greenlight: I heard an explosion!
Inkubus: If I need help I'll scream
Warhammer: You have to admit a grenade probably meant trouble 'Where the fuck did that come from?!'
Greenlight: 'That escalated quickly'

Inkubus: You know that gangwar? I heard Shadowrunners started that, just to get one guy.
Felix: Yeah, right. *rolls eyes*
Warhammer: Some of my ex-military buddies say there's been a lot of runner activity in the neighbourhood
Felix: Oh, not you too.

Felix: What tail? You were probably imagining things.
Inkubus: Yeah? Seeing the same troll in two places! Explain that!
Felix: How would you tell them apart?
Inkubus: ....
Felix: Sorry.
Inkubus: Excuse my friend, he's from down south.

Warhammer: The important thing is that you lost the tail.
*doorbell rings*
Felix: I'll get it.
Warhammer: Shouldn't you check the security cam first?
Felix: Why? It's probably the grocery boy anyway.
Inkubus: Oh no... Felix... I'm so sorry
Titus: *kicks door in*

Inkubus casts a mass Orgasm Spell while the band panics. Felix hits the floor, pretending to be affected, and Warhammer blazes away with automatic gel-round fire, which sounds very impressive, but is unlikely to actually hurt or even hit anybody. It still does, however.

Inkubus: You're not supposed to be *successfully* defending them
Greenlight: 'Sorry, I don't practise missing people'

Bambi grabs for his own weapon, in blind panic, and manages to empty the clip into the ceiling. Felix, hiding behind the furniture, bites his tongue and manages to choke down his fury at the property damage to his home.

Felix: Maybe we can spin this into a rent reduction

Titus 'punches Warhammer out', and Greenlight steps in, surveying the screaming, twitching bandmembers and hefting his own weapons.

Greenlight: Nice hit, Akuma. Are you going to come quietly?
Bambi: *still pulling the trigger of the empty gun* Click click click!
Greenlight: Thought so. *charges with shock-maul and gel-pistol*

Inkubus attempts to 'rescue' Whispering Wind

Inkubus: Come on! I'll get you out of here! *stunbolt*

Titus: Right, you lot. You have a choice. Stun-rod or Tranq Patch

Band unconscious and terrified out of their wits, the team considers their next move. Truck them across to Titus' hide-out, for a start. Inkubus magically interrogates the band for the whereabouts of the finished album - apparently they've hidden it in a book - and Felix suggests using the spell Catalogue to locate it, at each of the bandmember's apartments.

Inkubus: I knew I kept you around for something. More than your share of the rent.

Inkubus wants to stay with the band, still pretending to be a helpful bystander caught up in the mess.

Inkubus: You're going to have to rough me up.
Greenlight: *Gestures Inkubus closer, cracks knuckles.... and gets out the make-up kit.*

But what to tell the cops, if they show up?

Inkubus: I'll tell them a version of the truth. I was entertaining a young woman, and a troll burst in, shot up the roof...
Greenlight: ... Burst into tears...
Inkubus: ... And left.

Starcops: And what did this troll look like, sir?
Inkubus: Big!
Titus: Same problem the cops have every time they need to ID a troll

Starcops: And the young woman?
Inkubus: I'll give them a good description - that's an amalgamation of my last three dates.

Felix: Congratulations on that masterpiece of theatre.
Titus: What if they ever come to see you afterwards, and we're all here?
Inkubus: 'Ooh, this is awkward. Hi! I'm a bastard.'

Played my first game of Firestorm Armada this weekend. Was a close thing - my Aquan fleet eventually managed to take down the enemy flagship and kill their admiral, but not before they'd disabled mine, boarded it, and kidnapped my own fleet commander.
 
."We shall rescue our beloved leader! We shall not let him languish in the hands of those air-breathing human scum!"
"Hey! Humans serve on Aquan ships as well!"
"Aqualungs don't count - you're good humans. Do a trick and we'll throw you a sardine."

Their support has been withdrawn

"I'm sorry, but you're no longer an Ivy League school..."

Male. Female. Both. Neither. And 'other' of course too.

And of course Jrska doesn't object to female partners. I think this new chickie is in for a big old shock in the very near future.

I used to have this Shadow Run module. Lost it sometime during moving. I adapted it for my 4e Kaze 5 campaign. Players loved it and hated it. Especially when going after Ghengis Khan's chip, they ran into a biker gang being lead by a full Hard-Shell conversion calling himself Bone Crusher (who had the Khan chip).

Aboard the formerly-inquisitorial ship the Chains of Judgement, where there are many ways to occupy the long months of travel, and distract Jrska from the way Aladar isn't her slavishly devoted plaything anymore. We can search every inch of the ship for the Inquisitorial Rosette formerly worn by the Inquisitor that caught us, and who subsequent got turned into a deamonhost, reduced to ashes, and used as trade goods. True, it likely has built-in defences against misuse. But that shouldn't stop hereteks that aren't afraid of things like AIs, and quantum cryptography - let alone the kind of people who are unbowed by the laws of reality.

Jrska: I reject your reality and substitute my own

Jrska: Since Chaos has no interest in laws, including Child Labour Laws, let's go find some young children. They can fit in the small spaces. 'Put your hand in there kid. Don't worry about the hissing'

One possible hiding-place for the rosette is in the decks beneath the Reclamation chambers, where leftovers from the cyber-conversion process go.

Cassius: I'm thinking zombies.
GM: Just a minute, I want to make a note here...
Jrska: Did somebody just break Rule 1?

Eyeing the various bodies on the meathooks.

Jrska: Well, I like somebody who's well hung.

Cassius has plans for that space marine dreadnought we acquired. But it requires mentally breaking the occupant first.

Jrska: Pity you and your blood-brother's enhanced physiognomy includes drug resistance. I was thinking curare - imagine not being able to move, or even blink, and a nice full-length mirror overhead, while the tech-adepts perform surgery on your internal organs.
Cassius: You are aware that that is the kind of thing that happens to Dreadnoughts every day they aren't actually in combat?
Jrska: Yes. Like I said, it's a pity he's a space marine. We'll have to save it for some merely

Jrska's part-time minion, Adept E, is overseeing the usual operations on the reclamation unit.

Jrska: Wotcha, E. Vivisected anybody lately?
Adept E: No. Nobody has died. It has been very... Dull.
Cassius: Forgive me if I'm wrong, but doesn't vivisection mean you don't have to wait until they're dead?
Adept E: *cheers up*

It turns out that there are entire lost decks below, that are somehow being filtered out of the tech-priests' perception. No wonder they couldn't find the rosette down here.

GM: There's lots of reclamation tech down here, but none you're intimate with.
Jrska: Intimate with technology?
Cassius: Intimate with a reclamator.
Cog OoC: There's the tag-line for this episode
Jrska OoC: Cog! Stop humping that television!

The lights are still working down in the Black Holds, but Jrska ensures they have more.

Jrska: The more the merrier. I don't want to see a stone angel at the other end of the corridor, and the lights suddenly go out.

There's conveyor belts and automated rotary saws, grinding machines, and more, between the Reclamation deck and the furnaces. We, predictably, are on a metal gantry high over the churning machinery.

Jrska: Will this take our lord Cassius' weight?
GM: And the bolts snap, plunging you into the machinery below.

Cassius and his mutant advisor are promptly seized by the various amputator mechanisms and whisked off towards the furnaces. Cog and Aladar cling to the roof and plan a rescue attempt.

Cog: Did you bring your jetpack?
Aladar: I always bring the jetpack!

Jrska OoC: I really should have some witty line as I plummet here, but I've got nothing.
Cog OoC: I like going down on things but this is ridiculous?
Jrska OoC: ...
Cog OOC: It was the best I had.

Aladar: I sweep in to rescue Jrska.
Jrska: He still loves me!
Cassius: Not that he shows it often.

Hooked actuators and whirling bone saws hack away at Cassius and Jrska's armour, despite their efforts to get off the conveyer.

GM: You get the impression this conveyor was designed for people that weren't completely dead.

Cassius: Hit the off switch!
Jrska: What safety switch? This is the Imperium, they've never heard of safety. They don't even have safety rails.
Cassius: The 'oh my god-emperor the conveyer belt has gone mad, we're going to lose this entire quota of bodies, quick hit the off switch' switch.
Jrska: 'First, fill in this form'

Eventually Cassius loses patience and just blows the machinery apart with his bolt gun.

Cassius: Occasionally, brute force is the appropriate response.
Jrska: Isn't that the Imperium in spades?

Cog: Lord Cassius, I've shut all the trash compactors on the detention level.

Cassius: The damage and the fact I'm two bolt-rounds down is on your head.
Cog: At least I stayed upright.
Jrska: I take a few steps away from Cog.

Cog: What kind of adventuring party doesn't have rope?
Jrska: If you want a ten foot pole, then you should have brought a Slaanesh Marine.
Aladar: .... I just got that. Ew.

But there are still more corridors choked with churning machinery - no doubt there are off-switches, but it's likely that anybody who knew where there are has been dead for centuries. Aladar's ineptitude undoes most of Cog's efforts at getting past.

Cog: Stop helping!

Jrska: I can't charm the machinery out of the way. Pile-driving is a thing, but doesn't apply here.
Aladar: Oh god, now I'm picturing a Slaanesh tech-priest.
Cog: 'I'll give you an oil change'
Jrska: Lube job.

Cog: Who designed this?
Jrska: The Imperium. Occupational Health and Safety is heresy.
GM: The Imperium is good for death trap technology.
Cassius OoC: I keep flashing back to the chompers in ...
Jrska OoC: Galaxy Quest?
Cog OoC: 'Why do we even have this?'

Cog: I found a doohickey. What does it do?
Cassius: It do... Hickey.
Aladar: It's a kissing machine?

Cassius sends Jrska off to break the spirit of the dreadnought's barely living occupant.

Jrska: I'll take a picnic hamper and tell him all about my life. In excruciating detail.
Cassius: You know the best thing? I just got Jrska to try and seduce a corpse.
Jrska: *sings* Neeeeecrophilia.

The doohickey is a Stryxis personal phase reality shifter - very useful, since it makes the bearer effectively invisible. If she can break Cassius' former chapter-brother, Cassius has plans.

Cassius: Stealth Dreadnought!

Of course, why would the late inquisitor even have had foul Xenos technology on board in the first place? Clearly he was of a somewhat radical bent.

Jrska: Given the Navigator is a mutant and the Magos is a heretek, I'm detecting a theme here.

This hypocrisy just adds to Cassius' disgust with the Imperium. Happily, a chance arises to exercise this disgust - distress calls from an Imperial transport lost in the Screaming Vortex. The broadcast was unwise.

Jrska: A distress call is a good way to attract predators.
Cassius: It's also a good way to attract predators into a trap.

As it turns out, the transport has already attacked, disabled, and currently being boarded by reavers unallied to Jrska's brother. This makes both ships fair game, especially since we can sweep in in our erstwhile Inquisitorial ship, blow away the pirates, then 'rescue' the Imperials.

Jrska: We want to get close enough to wave at them through the portholes

On the respective dimensions of the three ships

GM: It's longer but thinner.
Jrska: I prefer longer and thicker.

The reavers must be rather distracted by their boarding action, since we close to point-blank range without trouble, and launch a missile broadside that devastates the completely unprepared reaver ship.

Aladar: Surprise, bitches!

Cassius orders us to come round, so we can send our own murder-servitors and mutants-at-arms to finish the raiders off, or at least force their surrender, prior to accepting the gratitude of the Imperials.

Aladar: Aw, I wanted to ram them
Jrska: Since when were you a top?

Consider the raiders, when they looked out the window and saw an Inquisitorial ship and a metric fuckton of missiles just off the starboard bow, followed by fires and decompression and murder-servitors.

Raid leader: Five minutes ago I was having such a wonderful day!

We also get a bonus - some hidden machine spirit in the Chains of Judgement's data systems has observed us coming to the rescue of an Imperial ship, apparently concluded that the Inquisition is still in control, and unlocked a hidden safe in the bridge - we have the Rosette! Which Cassius promptly dons and boards the other vessel to intimidate the survivors. This confuses the captain - not least because it's a space marine wearing it, but then bossing everybody around and accusing everybody in sight of foul heresy IS entirely in character for an Inquisitor.

Captain: Are you not servants of the Emperor?
Jrska: *Snrks at the phrasing* Correct.

Jrska is wearing the Stryxis device - the space marine is hard enough to explain, why bother explaining a mutant as well? Cassius announces that the entire loyalist crew are going to be mind-probed for signs of heresy, and that all relevant documents and data-slates be brought to the cargo hold for a Concludium. Essential, vast piles of paperwork will be shuffled, until some truth is reached.

GM: So you have your crackpot conspiracy board spread out over an entire cargo bay?

Not that the truth is important - since Cassius' plan is to escort the Imperial ship and it's captain back out into real space, and have them act as his intelligence agent.

Although there is one problem with having her work for us, and her thinking she's working for the Inquisition. Her combination of good looks and innocent naivety is strongly provoking Jrska's lust. Just as well she passed that last test back in the Ragged Helix, and is actually capable of deferring a pleasure.

Shadow Hawk: Ensign Newpilot flunked his flight safety quiz.
CDR Oldpilot: How did he manage it.
Shadow Hawk: The safe altitude over downtown San Diego is NOT three feet, Commander.
CDR Oldpilot: Oh good lord.
Non Aircrew PO: Sir, if you're flying three feet over downtown, do you have to obey traffic signals?
CDR Olfpilot: Shutup, Petty Officer.

Those don't procreate -- Sam killed them when they tried something.

On Masters of the Universe, and cosplayers

Me: Wow. I don't recall Malificent dressing like that.
Purrdence: I point out that a minute ago you were talking about somebody that went around in a loincloth.
Warhammer's player: And leather straps. Don't forget those

Me: Evidently Prince Adam was going for 'distracting nudity'

Anyway - hot on the trail of two more of the stolen personality chips. One for Cleopatra VII, and the other for Jack the Ripper. We've got a good idea of where they can be found too - one at a party held by the Hollywood exec that was to receive the chips, and the other roaming downtown Seattle murdering streetwalkers. With any luck we can recover both, without embarrassing the creators, but still giving our employer enough rope to hang the executive that arranged the insider-job theft, and the Ripper Chip, in the first place.

Felix: I do wonder how Mains is going to stop Junior doing more damage to the company, even if he does kick him out. Perhaps he'll need to have an accident, and Mr Mains will think fondly of us. 'He fell down an elevator shaft - onto some bullets.'

GM: You don't have any women in your party do you?
Felix: Well, we can always put the troll in a dress.

Felix: If we need a plus-one for the party... Or more to the point, somebody to use as bait for the Ripper... we're back to the troll in a dress.

Felix: Skill chips would be unisex I'd think. But I expect some would be gender-limited. 'Interesting things to do with ping-pong balls' for example.

Felix: It's an exercise in pessimism - If you think about all the ways a job can go wrong, for one thing you end up pleasantly surprised by the end of the day. But I'm thinking that we might be looking for a male killer, when the chip is in a woman.

We ask Freya, the runner who got abandoned by her fellow thieves during the original hiest, if she's up to acting as bait. She is, if she gets a chance at revenge on her former teammates. Of course, even with three of us watching her from rooftops, cars, and alleyways with rifles, pistols, and magic at the ready, there's still the difficulty of differentiating between the Ripper, and people actually trying to negotiate Freya's attention.

Felix: We wait until Freya takes them into the alley, stun them, then go through their pockets. Just to be sure they're not the Ripper, you know.
Inkubus: I think I'm on the wrong team - you guys could really use my Orgasm spell right now.

GM: It truly is a miserable night.
Felix: It's Seattle, they all are.

The thick fog that rolls in doesn't help. No does the fact that the Ripper is Freya's former teammate, heavily cyber-enhanced, and faster than the first few bullets. Luckily for us, he doesn't dodge everything, although we do have to rush to get the chip out before the paramedic evac team turn up to rescue their client. Hopefully they'll be able to treat a badly fried brain, but we can't hang around. We have to meet Inkubus at the party.

Felix: Evidently when you yelled Go Go Go! I spilled the thermos on my lap

Felix: They keep calling me Bubbles. I can't think why.
Warhammer: It's your personality coming out
Labrat: Or what you have in common with Michael Jackson. Forever blowing Bubbles.
Felix: Glare.
Inkubus: You'll notice I didn't say that.

Of course, only the troll is dressed well enough to get in to assist Inkubus. But how will they get out, with the target?

Felix: Bond, James Bond. Pack the sniper rifle in an inconspicuous case, and stroll back into the party. They didn't even notice you were gone.

Felix: He's an elf, he'll probably run down the side of the building.
GM: This is Shadowrun, not Bubblegum Crisis.
Inkubus: And I don't have Levitate.
Labrat: And he's not the Fucking Elf-Man.

The party is loud, debauched, and has lots of strobe lighting.

Felix: And this is how we discover the other side-effect of the dreamchips. Photosensitive Epilepsy.

Felix: I don't want to know what you do when I'm out of town.
Inkubus: I spend about a grand on cleaners.

GM: You overhear a conversation.
Felix: 'I know! I know! That's why I'm getting my testicles laminated!'

Inkubus: I resist the chance to become a porn star. Yes, let's send the most debauched character that has to keep resisting temptation to a party like this.
Labrat: You DID volunteer for this pat of the mission.
Inkubus: I know, I know...

GM: They have a room with actual food.
Felix: I'm regretting not going now.
GM: They even have real tuna.
Inkubus: I'm not resisting THAT

Teehee's old teacher is at the party - alarming, given we told him to lay low. But it's possible he's merely here to run the simsense machines, for the extra income.

Felix: What?!
Inkubus: Whatwhatwhat?!

Inkubus tries to charm Cleo away from her Hollywood date. It doesn't work. We hope the exec's triumphant smile is merely over the sexual conquest, and not because he recognises a foiled snatch operation when he sees one.

Warhammer: This is so going to hurt your ego, Inkubus

Tailing the couple back to their yacht is tricky too, even with an Orgy spell leaving the pair rather frisky. For one thing the driver recognises the pursuit, and Inkubus is forced to call up spiritual trackers. We barely reach the dock in time - Felix's stunball doesn't knock them out, but does, in conjunction with the earlier spell, leave Cleo and the exec pawing each other's clothes off as they cast off.

Felix: What happened to their driver?
GM: He's driven off - his job is done for the night
Felix: Plus a Ford Americar screamed past him, and a mad dwarf jumped out and leaped off the end of the dock.
Labrat: And at the other end of the dock a Land Rover screeched to a halt and a Ork got out with a very large rifle.
Warhammer: I bet he's glad his job is done for the night.

Labrat shoots out the boat's engine, Warhammer leaps aboard, and deals with the exec's bodyguards. When the rest of us hurry aboard, we find the exec and Cleo passed out and naked from their strenuous bedroom gymnastics, and move to get Cleo back to the hotel where we're keeping the chip designer, Teehee.

Felix: There's one silver lining to everybody dying when we rip out the chip - it helps keep the secret.
Inkubus: Of course, I'd consider it a crime against nature if Cleo dies.
Warhammer: Eh, necrophilia isn't that bad.

Felix: The hotel might complain if we bring a naked woman and an unconscious elf in.
GM: Which is why you bring a rug.
Felix: Yes! A rolled-up carpet over our shoulders!
Warhammer: *High five*

Labrat manages to get the chip out without frying Cleo's synapses. Good news! The dreamchips only have a 66% mortality rate - the corporation will be pleased. But we still need to get the chips, Cleo, and Teehee,and the rest of the evidence, back to our corporate contact. The carpet again, as another nod to the original Cleopatra?

Inkubus: Two carpets. I did leave a bottle of very expensive scotch with Teehee. He's not going anywhere without help.

Miss Winter, our 'Johnson': Why is she naked?
Inkubus: She was like that when we found her.

We collect our pay, hand over our itemised expense account, and get a very sizeable bonus as well. And Inkubus scores a date with Miss Winter.

Felix: So, what sort of dinner party should we have to celebrate our successful run?
Inkubus: I think this should be one of yours.
 

Cassius has certain views about his subordinates, the other PCs. But Cog is a puzzle.

Cassius: Jrska, the Degenerate. Aladar the Fop, Rold the Attack Dog, Batholomeas the Dandy, and then there's you, Cog. I don't have anything for you. You're just around, doing your job.

Cog has been thinking about inventive applications of his medical know-how. In particular, biological warfare. With the aid of Nurgle, Chaos god of plague and decay, he should be able to come up with some really interesting pandemics.

Jrska: I'll help you with the rituals - I'll dress as a sexy nurse.

But on with the situation in Surgub, on Q'sal, where the rulers are busy and the lesser sorcerers are plotting. One of them has hired us to kill a rival. Even if this wasn't a planet dedicated to Tzeench, God of Change, this is an obvious set-up for a double-cross, and it only waits to see how many layers can be added to the plot.

Jrska: I'm certain there's a quadruple-cross planned, at least.
Cog: We'll probably find out they're working together to have us killed.
Jrska: How much do you want to bet the Stylite wants us to kill somebody else, and THEY want us to kill the Artifex?

And of course, there's the new PC 'Bartholomeas Jones' who claims to be on the run from his own marine chapter. We don't believe this, but will play along for now.

Jrska: Let's keep him at arm's length - Rold's arm length, preferably holding that soul-eating daemonsword of his.

Jrska: Think the Stylite will hire us to kill the Artifex, or just kill us?
Cassius: Flip a coin, basically.
Cog: It'll land on its side, given where we are.
Jrska: Or turn into a banana.

Perhaps we can find a way to complete the exact wording of the contract, if not the spirit.

Jrska: They do call an orgasm a little death... Maybe if i give the Stylite lots of orgasms?
Aladar: You'd need at least a thousand. You couldn't do it in the time we have left.
Jrska: I take that bet!

And of course there's the matter of the murder weapon, a daemon-sword crafted by the Artifex. None of us are willing to carry it, since daemon-weapons are notorious for seizing control of their bearers, and half of us already have other weapons that would get jealous.

Jrska: We'll let Aladar carry it - he's obviously incompetent, no-one will believe he's a threat.

Of course, we're debating all this in front of the Stylite's servant. No point trying to conceal it in a city of sorcerers, so talking openly at least lets them wonder if it's a triple or quadruple bluff. And Cassius and no doubt the Stylite have been scrying the permutations of the future anyway.

Jrska: You got any input on this?
Cassius: 'Here, carry this weapon that's been programmed to kill your master. Tell him it's a gift.'
GM: The servant's mouth is sewn up. It wasn't before.
Jrska: Silver wire sprouted from his lips.
GM: Q'sal is good for retconning things like that.

One of the city guards 'accidentally' drops a message from the Fourteen Factors - they want BOTH the Artifex and the Stylite dead.

Jrska: Quadruple betrayal then. But the big question is will the Factors let us get away alive afterwards?
Cassius: I'm wondering that myself.

Cassius' divinations revealed that the Stylite's disciples are the biggest complicating factor in whatever is about to go down. The Stylite doesn't seem to like them much either, as he screams and rants at the crowd of fiercely debating acolytes milling around far below his floating platform.

The Stylite: Why don't you all just fuck off!
Disciple: But what does he actually mean by that?
The Stylite: Get off my lawn!

There are a few more genuinely cryptic utterances collected and endlessly analysed by the crowd.

The Stylite: The black moon rises!
Jrska: 'Beware the Ides of Banana.'

We also find out what the Stylite used the hologenerator for - he's made his tower invisible, to discourage visitors. What now? And how to deal with the Stylite, if it does come to combat? Cog suggests we acquire a Pariah from somewhere, to cancel out the sorcerer's magic. Slight problem with that plan - those psychic untouchables are anathema to all psykers.

Cassius: You bring a pariah anywhere NEAR me and I will find WAYS, I will invent whole new fields of torture, just for you.

Jrska distracts the crowd, climbing up to straddle Rold's shoulders and address the multitude.

Jrska: He should be glad we're both facing in the same direction.

Cassius, Aladar and Cog sidle past towards the invisible tower. Jrska takes advantage of the somewhat ridiculous Khornate crest on Rold's helmet, after she's finished convincing the disciples to go harass the Artifex instead.

Jrska: I tap him on the helmet and steer him by the bunny ears over to where I can enjoy a packed lunch.

Aladar's player: I've been rolling bloody well this session.
Cassius' player: What did you just do?!?
Jrska's player: He's broken the universe.
Aladar's player: Oh... I just jinxed it didn't I.
Cassius' player: Thou shalt not summon the daemon Murphy.

The Stylite opens with a sorcerous attack to confuse Cassius, which at least resolves the question of whether or not we're going to negotiate. Cassius responds with excessive violence, and the psychic combat escalates, both using precognition to avoid each other's attacks, and each using every erg of power at their command in increasingly suicidal retaliation.

Aladar OoC: Your mind is filled by the eternal question 'what is one half of a pair of pants'

Cassius: I use Psychic Scream.
Jrska: Ow! He hates the noise already!
Cassius: I know >

Meanwhile, Cog is searching the basement for the hologenerator.

Jrska: 'Where does this extension cord go?'

Eventually, the Stylite's head vanishes, and so does Cassius, although the later is due to an attack of Chronological Incontinence. The rest of us have our own problems - Aladar is trying, and failing, to fight off daemonic possession, AND slavery to the Artifex' sword, and the entire tower is collapsing as the sorceries holding it up unravel.

Aladar OoC: Oh god, he was a load-bearing Boss

This is where things get weird - after Cassius reappears, and the rubble settles, we find Aladar alive and well. And we've all forgotten that the sword was a daemon-weapon. Or that the Artifex insisted will kill the Stylite with it.

Jrska: How did you survive that?
Aladar: I... Don't.... Know.

Jrska OoC: The daemon in his head and the daemon in the sword reached an understanding - one controls his body, the other controls his sword arm. And the daemon in the sword is saying 'drive me closer, I want to hit them with my sword'

GM: There's no sign of the guard showing up. Funnily enough.
Jrska: They're probably off dealing with the riot at the Artifex's forge XD

Cassius invites all the bystanders to get looting, on the condition they help him find the hologenerator. Jrska then intimidates the bystanders into bartering over what they find, which irritates Cassius.

Cassius: I said that what they found, was theirs.
Jrska: Yes, my lord. And now they can trade with them.
Cassius: *grabs Jrska by the throat* But if they're busy trading with you, THEY'RE NOT WORKING FOR ME *hurls her over the rubble pile*
Jrska: *sailing away over the pile* My apologies, lord.

Aladar also find the Stylite's soul-vault.

Aladar: I found his wallet.

Cassius decides that now would be a good chance to get away from Q'sal. Preferably hiring the mercenary Gray to transport the enormous hologenerator (and sizeable soul-vault) up to our ship, in return for that cremated Inquisitor's ashes Jrska's been holding on to, 100 slaves, and a favour.

Jrska: The Factors want both the Stylite AND the Artifex dead.
Cassius: I don't care
Jrska: So this is a sextuple betrayal.
GM: .... Jesus. *Headdesk*
Jrska: You have to admit that is absolutely typical for a Tzeenchian planet.

Cassius: We need this transported up to my ship, on the condition that nobody, and that includes your crew, finds out what it is.
Gray: Is this going to endanger my ship and crew?
Jrska: I can't see any way it can - as long as you don't find out what it is.

We get the hell out of Dodge, having backstabbed not only the Artifex, by failing in our mission to kill the Stylite with the appropriate weapon (and then avoiding the sudden and inevitable betrayal afterwards), but the Factors as well, by failing to kill the Artifex. Cassius doesn't care - he thinks they were all morons anyway, and now considers the entire planet expendable.

Cassius: Add this planet to the list.
Jrska: You don't need no Stupid Evil.
Cassius: I'm starting to see myself as a force for evolution.
Jrska: Extinction's Angel, my lord.

( RPG system notes - two important characteristics in Black Crusade are experience points -d'uh - and corruption points. As PCs accrue corruption points, they also earn the 'gifts' and actual rewards, from the Chaos Gods. Aladar's player spends his points on the talent Cold-hearted, which makes him jaded, dispassionate... and immune to seduction. It also gives him enough corruption points for a 'gift', and though we don't know it yet a number of his organs have been replaced by daemonic mechanics. Which explains the cold-hearted neatly, but still leaves Jrska pissed off and disturbed by his failure to respond to her attentions.)

Jrska: You've changed... I don't like it.

Jrska: I brought fresh gerbils!
Aladar: Gerbils?
Cassius OoC: 'Again?'

Cassius' player suggests a few more improvements for Aladar.

Cassius' player: We need to up your armed combat skills, and implant you with a Halo Device. Then he'll be a pirate ninja robot alien zombie. In space.
Aladar: Well, my motivation is immortality.
Cassius' player: And Quick Draw! Cowboy.

Cog's been having ideas too. Even if he does invent something epidemiologically interesting, he'll need to get it into the population. Jrska's interest in recreational pharmacology suggests a way.

Cog: You could talk them into trying anything.
Jrska: I know. It IS my mission to bring sex, drugs, and rock and roll to the Imperium.
Cog: Yes. So, if I add my disease to the drugs... and to the addiction treatments...
Jrska: Ecstasy cut with anthrax.

Cassius has certain views about his subordinates, the other PCs. But Cog is a puzzle.

Cassius: Jrska, the Degenerate. Aladar the Fop, Rold the Attack Dog, Batholomeas the Dandy, and then there's you, Cog. I don't have anything for you. You're just around, doing your job.

Cog has been thinking about inventive applications of his medical know-how. In particular, biological warfare. With the aid of Nurgle, Chaos god of plague and decay, he should be able to come up with some really interesting pandemics.

Jrska: I'll help you with the rituals - I'll dress as a sexy nurse.

But on with the situation in Surgub, on Q'sal, where the rulers are busy and the lesser sorcerers are plotting. One of them has hired us to kill a rival. Even if this wasn't a planet dedicated to Tzeench, God of Change, this is an obvious set-up for a double-cross, and it only waits to see how many layers can be added to the plot.

Jrska: I'm certain there's a quadruple-cross planned, at least.
Cog: We'll probably find out they're working together to have us killed.
Jrska: How much do you want to bet the Stylite wants us to kill somebody else, and THEY want us to kill the Artifex?

And of course, there's the new PC 'Bartholomeas Jones' who claims to be on the run from his own marine chapter. We don't believe this, but will play along for now.

Jrska: Let's keep him at arm's length - Rold's arm length, preferably holding that soul-eating daemonsword of his.

Jrska: Think the Stylite will hire us to kill the Artifex, or just kill us?
Cassius: Flip a coin, basically.
Cog: It'll land on its side, given where we are.
Jrska: Or turn into a banana.

Perhaps we can find a way to complete the exact wording of the contract, if not the spirit.

Jrska: They do call an orgasm a little death... Maybe if i give the Stylite lots of orgasms?
Aladar: You'd need at least a thousand. You couldn't do it in the time we have left.
Jrska: I take that bet!

And of course there's the matter of the murder weapon, a daemon-sword crafted by the Artifex. None of us are willing to carry it, since daemon-weapons are notorious for seizing control of their bearers, and half of us already have other weapons that would get jealous.

Jrska: We'll let Aladar carry it - he's obviously incompetent, no-one will believe he's a threat.

Of course, we're debating all this in front of the Stylite's servant. No point trying to conceal it in a city of sorcerers, so talking openly at least lets them wonder if it's a triple or quadruple bluff. And Cassius and no doubt the Stylite have been scrying the permutations of the future anyway.

Jrska: You got any input on this?
Cassius: 'Here, carry this weapon that's been programmed to kill your master. Tell him it's a gift.'
GM: The servant's mouth is sewn up. It wasn't before.
Jrska: Silver wire sprouted from his lips.
GM: Q'sal is good for retconning things like that.

One of the city guards 'accidentally' drops a message from the Fourteen Factors - they want BOTH the Artifex and the Stylite dead.

Jrska: Quadruple betrayal then. But the big question is will the Factors let us get away alive afterwards?
Cassius: I'm wondering that myself.

Cassius' divinations revealed that the Stylite's disciples are the biggest complicating factor in whatever is about to go down. The Stylite doesn't seem to like them much either, as he screams and rants at the crowd of fiercely debating acolytes milling around far below his floating platform.

The Stylite: Why don't you all just fuck off!
Disciple: But what does he actually mean by that?
The Stylite: Get off my lawn!

There are a few more genuinely cryptic utterances collected and endlessly analysed by the crowd.

The Stylite: The black moon rises!
Jrska: 'Beware the Ides of Banana.'

We also find out what the Stylite used the hologenerator for - he's made his tower invisible, to discourage visitors. What now? And how to deal with the Stylite, if it does come to combat? Cog suggests we acquire a Pariah from somewhere, to cancel out the sorcerer's magic. Slight problem with that plan - those psychic untouchables are anathema to all psykers.

Cassius: You bring a pariah anywhere NEAR me and I will find WAYS, I will invent whole new fields of torture, just for you.

Jrska distracts the crowd, climbing up to straddle Rold's shoulders and address the multitude.

Jrska: He should be glad we're both facing in the same direction.

Cassius, Aladar and Cog sidle past towards the invisible tower. Jrska takes advantage of the somewhat ridiculous Khornate crest on Rold's helmet, after she's finished convincing the disciples to go harass the Artifex instead.

Jrska: I tap him on the helmet and steer him by the bunny ears over to where I can enjoy a packed lunch.

Aladar's player: I've been rolling bloody well this session.
Cassius' player: What did you just do?!?
Jrska's player: He's broken the universe.
Aladar's player: Oh... I just jinxed it didn't I.
Cassius' player: Thou shalt not summon the daemon Murphy.

The Stylite opens with a sorcerous attack to confuse Cassius, which at least resolves the question of whether or not we're going to negotiate. Cassius responds with excessive violence, and the psychic combat escalates, both using precognition to avoid each other's attacks, and each using every erg of power at their command in increasingly suicidal retaliation.

Aladar OoC: Your mind is filled by the eternal question 'what is one half of a pair of pants'

Cassius: I use Psychic Scream.
Jrska: Ow! He hates the noise already!
Cassius: I know >

Meanwhile, Cog is searching the basement for the hologenerator.

Jrska: 'Where does this extension cord go?'

Eventually, the Stylite's head vanishes, and so does Cassius, although the later is due to an attack of Chronological Incontinence. The rest of us have our own problems - Aladar is trying, and failing, to fight off daemonic possession, AND slavery to the Artifex' sword, and the entire tower is collapsing as the sorceries holding it up unravel.

Aladar OoC: Oh god, he was a load-bearing Boss

This is where things get weird - after Cassius reappears, and the rubble settles, we find Aladar alive and well. And we've all forgotten that the sword was a daemon-weapon. Or that the Artifex insisted will kill the Stylite with it.

Jrska: How did you survive that?
Aladar: I... Don't.... Know.

Jrska OoC: The daemon in his head and the daemon in the sword reached an understanding - one controls his body, the other controls his sword arm. And the daemon in the sword is saying 'drive me closer, I want to hit them with my sword'

GM: There's no sign of the guard showing up. Funnily enough.
Jrska: They're probably off dealing with the riot at the Artifex's forge XD

Cassius invites all the bystanders to get looting, on the condition they help him find the hologenerator. Jrska then intimidates the bystanders into bartering over what they find, which irritates Cassius.

Cassius: I said that what they found, was theirs.
Jrska: Yes, my lord. And now they can trade with them.
Cassius: *grabs Jrska by the throat* But if they're busy trading with you, THEY'RE NOT WORKING FOR ME *hurls her over the rubble pile*
Jrska: *sailing away over the pile* My apologies, lord.

Aladar also find the Stylite's soul-vault.

Aladar: I found his wallet.

Cassius decides that now would be a good chance to get away from Q'sal. Preferably hiring the mercenary Gray to transport the enormous hologenerator (and sizeable soul-vault) up to our ship, in return for that cremated Inquisitor's ashes Jrska's been holding on to, 100 slaves, and a favour.

Jrska: The Factors want both the Stylite AND the Artifex dead.
Cassius: I don't care
Jrska: So this is a sextuple betrayal.
GM: .... Jesus. *Headdesk*
Jrska: You have to admit that is absolutely typical for a Tzeenchian planet.

Cassius: We need this transported up to my ship, on the condition that nobody, and that includes your crew, finds out what it is.
Gray: Is this going to endanger my ship and crew?
Jrska: I can't see any way it can - as long as you don't find out what it is.

We get the hell out of Dodge, having backstabbed not only the Artifex, by failing in our mission to kill the Stylite with the appropriate weapon (and then avoiding the sudden and inevitable betrayal afterwards), but the Factors as well, by failing to kill the Artifex. Cassius doesn't care - he thinks they were all morons anyway, and now considers the entire planet expendable.

Cassius: Add this planet to the list.
Jrska: You don't need no Stupid Evil.
Cassius: I'm starting to see myself as a force for evolution.
Jrska: Extinction's Angel, my lord.

( RPG system notes - two important characteristics in Black Crusade are experience points -d'uh - and corruption points. As PCs accrue corruption points, they also earn the 'gifts' and actual rewards, from the Chaos Gods. Aladar's player spends his points on the talent Cold-hearted, which makes him jaded, dispassionate... and immune to seduction. It also gives him enough corruption points for a 'gift', and though we don't know it yet a number of his organs have been replaced by daemonic mechanics. Which explains the cold-hearted neatly, but still leaves Jrska pissed off and disturbed by his failure to respond to her attentions.)

Jrska: You've changed... I don't like it.

Jrska: I brought fresh gerbils!
Aladar: Gerbils?
Cassius OoC: 'Again?'

Cassius' player suggests a few more improvements for Aladar.

Cassius' player: We need to up your armed combat skills, and implant you with a Halo Device. Then he'll be a pirate ninja robot alien zombie. In space.
Aladar: Well, my motivation is immortality.
Cassius' player: And Quick Draw! Cowboy.

Cog's been having ideas too. Even if he does invent something epidemiologically interesting, he'll need to get it into the population. Jrska's interest in recreational pharmacology suggests a way.

Cog: You could talk them into trying anything.
Jrska: I know. It IS my mission to bring sex, drugs, and rock and roll to the Imperium.
Cog: Yes. So, if I add my disease to the drugs... and to the addiction treatments...
Jrska: Ecstasy cut with anthrax.

Purrdence back from her month in the US. Among the places she visited, Madame Tussauds in NYC
 

Purrdence: "I kept thinking I was in the way of someone's photo, then turning around and going 'no, that's a wax model of Andy Warhol'. It was a bit creepy actually."


She also went to see a van Gogh exhibition. Given the excellent Dr Who episode "Vincent and the Doctor", some things were probably inevitable.



Purrdence: I kept looking around for the Doctor, and he wasn't there.
Me: Well, it was an excellent episode
Purrdence: I know. I can't hear Starry Starry Night without crying. Which is a bit embarrassing at the post office.


The daughters of one of her friends were quite impressed by her too, especially she used her Teacher Voice on them



"More scary than Mom."

I was wondering how she'd handle the change from NYC, which was suffering Winter Storm Janus and -30C windchill when she left, but she spent a day in LA, which was suffering a 30+ heatwave (in January!!!!!) so Perth was actually slightly colder when she got home.

Purrdence back from her month in the US. Among the places she visited, Madame Tussauds in NYC
 

Purrdence: "I kept thinking I was in the way of someone's photo, then turning around and going 'no, that's a wax model of Andy Warhol'. It was a bit creepy actually."


She also went to see a van Gogh exhibition. Given the excellent Dr Who episode "Vincent and the Doctor", some things were probably inevitable.



Purrdence: I kept looking around for the Doctor, and he wasn't there.
Me: Well, it was an excellent episode
Purrdence: I know. I can't hear Starry Starry Night without crying. Which is a bit embarrassing at the post office.


The daughters of one of her friends were quite impressed by her too, especially she used her Teacher Voice on them



"More scary than Mom."

I was wondering how she'd handle the change from NYC, which was suffering Winter Storm Janus and -30C windchill when she left, but she spent a day in LA, which was suffering a 30+ heatwave (in January!!!!!) so Perth was actually slightly colder when she got home.

Van, the player of Agent Rondale, Lord Frontbottom and Mad Dok Madison,is back. He'll be playing another Space Marine renegade in the entourage of Lord Cassius. And since he'll be Tzeench-aligned, we only have to have Aladar or Cog dedicate themselves to Nurgle to have the full set.

One other thing we have to do is find that dead Inquisitor's Rosette of Office, a potent symbol of authority in the Imperium, and that will certainly help us intimidate Imperials into handing over any psykers they have lying around, along with anything else we take a fancy to. It should be on the ship somewhere, but given that the ship is over a kilometre long and 400 metres deep, it's going to be quite a search.

Cog: We could turn the gravity off, shake the ship, and see what falls out.
Jrska: Or take it down to the chop shop and have the suspension altered - DOOF DOOF DOOF

Mr Batholomeas Jones OoC: It was under the couch the whole time!

Cassius has a plan regarding that demon accidentally tethered to his force staff. Careful probing has identified it as a Greater Deamon of Khorne, and an embodiment of arrogance. This probably explains how it got trapped in the first place.

Cassius: I shall call it Carlos.

Our gracious host at the Universe-class flying shipyard didn't press home his advantage and obliterate his rival. Apparently the two have spent centuries repeatedly waiting until the other has discovered something interesting, then stealing it. They also start brushfire wars, just to test new weapons on the cannon fodder.

Jrska: Magos-farming!
Rold: It's sustainable!

The ship's auspex array is finally repaired and rebooted

Cassius: Yay, we're not flying blind anymore!

rebooted Auspex console: 'It looks like you're trying to destroy the Imperium - would you like help with that?'
Cassius: Clippy is a demon

The time on the shipyard also lets up rebuild the crew. Indeed, Jrska is kept very busy assessing everybody that turns up at the airlock saying "gissa a job". One in particularly stands out - a Space Marine, with a coterie of humans, most of them children, and a family dog, in tow.

Jrska: A space marine with a family? I'm filing this one under 'dangerously deranged'

And, indeed, this 'Mr Bartholomeas Jones' claims that he abandoned the Imperium in order to better protect his family. Given that space marines are supposed to have no interest in that sort of thing, and he had to flee into the Screaming Vortex to protect himself and his family from the Imperium as a result, Jrska understandably bites her tongue, and saves laughing herself sick for later. They give him a tour of the ship, although nobody actually trusts him as far as they can spit him.

Jrska: I don't know what you're worried about, I like children. A few baby carrots, some scalloped potatoes...
Mr Batholomeas Jones: Do you know how much force it takes to pulverise someone's head with a power cane? Surprisingly little!

Jrska: And here we have the slave pits.
*Chorus of agonised screaming*
Cassius: Sorry, we're still training the choir.

Jrska also invites various traders, merchants, and slavers aboard for a dinner party and to pump them for information. Aladar, who Jrska is using for furniture, takes notes.

Jrska: Get all that, sweety?
Aladar van Rijn: Yes, mistress.

Cassius also purchases various devices used by Space Marine Apothecaries, the medics that collect the progenoid glands from fallen marines, and has that genetek lab we found on Sacgrave transported to the Chains of Judgement and installed. He's deadly serious about starting his own chapter, and do to that he'll need to harvest a lot of geneseed.

Mr Batholomeas Jones: I've noticed some of your recent purchases, and I hope it has nothing to do with my presence on board? Care to share?

Then off to meet the Stryxis traders. Too put it mildly, even with all the repairs to the ship, it's not a neat arrival. Both Aladar's piloting and Jrska's attention to the auspex readouts leave much to be desired.

Jrska: I do wonder what I was doing when as I failed that perception check.
Cassius: We don't want to know!
Rold: It might be related to why Aladar failed his piloting check.
Cassius: We don't want to know!
Jrska: Sorry, Aladar was being particularly talented today. *pats his head* Good boy.
Aladar van Rijn: I think I need to be flying now.
Jrska: You already got me floating.

GM: You seem to be hitting gravity waves, which your auspex operator is having trouble detecting.
Jrska: Did anybody else feel the earth move?

Cassius: I may be the master of this ship, but I see most of you as my equals.
Jrska: Thank you, my lord.
Cassius: I said most of you.

The Stryxis don't have any holographic ship disguises in stock at the moment, but will sell us the information on who they sold their last two to, in return for 1000 of our Mammonite slaves, which they keep referring to as meat. This is disturbing (to some), but then, so is how we got those slaves in the first place, and the situation on Mammon, which Rold describes as "The Screaming Vortex's most popular reality show."

Mr Batholomeas Jones: This is incredibly sick.
Jrska: Thankyou, my lord.

Mr Batholomeas Jones: I've never heard of a Slaaneshi cultist trying to seduce someone's ego before
Jrska: 'Don't worry, three inches is perfectly normal'

Jrska: Enhanced human meat! I'll just head down and have them well-oiled.

Jrska: Would you like them gift-wrapped?

Cassius: Jrska is my seneschal.
Jrska: It must be my charming smile.

Both holo-fields were sold to residents of Q'sal, the Sorcerers' World. Naturally, the reaction of the locals when we turn up in a ship still covered in Inquisitorial symbols is to immediately move to blow us out of the sky.

Jrska: *Grab Cog, rip my shirt off, whisper 'play along' and clutch him to my chest, THEN turn on the pict-caster*
Cog: Sigh.
Jrska: Greetings from the Chains of Judgement! Formerly a ship of the Inquisition, now a place of much more fun. Keep doing that. Good boy.

As it happens, the opposing cruiser is commanded by Grey, the Khornate ex-Guardsman, and probably the closest thing to a reliable mercenary that the Vortex has. Khorne DOES have martial honour as one of his aspects, after all. He was also Jones' transport into the Vortex.

Cassius: *shoving Jrska out if the way* Grey?
Jrska: Do that thing with your mechadendrites! Yes! Yes!
Cog: I extract myself from her cleavage.
Jrska: Awwwww.

Mr Batholomeas Jones: You remember me? Jones? And Mrs Jones?
Jrska: And all the little joneses.

We make our way down to the city of Surgub, where all the people are young and beautiful, where magic is so prevalent that orgone spirals around the thousand glittering towers and makes Jrska's nipples perk up, and the entire population lives in dread of the Fourteen Factors, who are currently in conference to decide what arbitrary rules they're going to inflict on the population next.

According to one gazetteer - "The city of Surgub is built on an island in the bay of the great river Crelix and claims to be the oldest settlement of Q’sal—a claim hotly refuted by Tarnor and Velklir. Surgub is ruled over by fourteen Factors with palaces in the highest steeples of the city. They meet in a strict pattern according to lunar phases. By their decree, any action that might distract them from their deliberations at such times is punishable by death, banishment, or reward according to their whimsy-a decision ordinarily made according to the manner of business they were attending to. In the past, infractions have been recorded for a multitude of activities including whistling, not whistling, riotous public assembly, incontinent verbosity, unwelcome eruptions, and snark."

This party is in trouble, then.

Such times, of course, are the opportunity for the lesser sorcerers - all extremely potent compared to anybody else - to make their powerplays against their various paranoid rivals. Which is what we promptly get caught up in, since the holo-fields we want have been purchased by the Artifex and the Stylite, and the Artifex wants wants his ranting rival dead. The Artifex sends sends one of his clanking half-mechanical constructs to find us and lead us through the non-Euclidean architecture of Surgub. It's complicated by the fact that it's almost blatantly setting us up for betrayal, the Stylite is surrounded by hordes of followers, and the city guard already have us under observation.

Mr Batholomeas Jones: We are Lords Cassius and Jone-
Jrska: *Expression of total outrage that Jones is pre-empting her role as Herald, and turning to Cassius for support*
Cassius: Take it up with him.

Cog: You need lubrication, brother.
Jrska: I'll help.

Cyborg: You. Arrrre. From. The. Chains. Of Judgement?
Jrska: Yes. We. Arrrre.....
All:
Jrska: What? You have to talk to them in their own idiom.

Jrska: Does everyone remember where we parked?
Cassius: In orbit. And us without a lighter.
Jrska: We have a problem, don't we, my lord?

Cog: Bloody demonologists.
Jrska: Get used to it, sweety.
Cog: Not in this lifetime.
Jrska: Oh sweety... One day you'll look back on this and laugh. Or someone will laugh, anyway.

Jones screws up the introductions, by misnaming Aladar as Master of the ship. This gives Jrska some satisfaction that her rival is incompetent, and infuriates Cassius.

The Artifex: You do not know yourselves, you bicker among yourselves, why should I trust you?
Jrska: It's his first day.
Mr Batholomeas Jones:
Rold: *snrk*

We convince the Artifex that if it is a betrayal, or a double-cross, or a triple-cross, or a sting operation, then there's obviously so few levels of duplicity that any true devotee of Tzeench, like Jones, or the residents of Q'sal, couldn't possibly go along with it. Of course, such an argument could all be part of the ploy too, but as long as everybody knows that everybody is involved in byzantine, convoluted, and deranged plotting, then we can at least bargain on a level footing.

Cassius: Jones is of Tzeench, and wouldn't allow such an amateurish betrayal.

The Artifex offers us deamon weapons for the task, and as a reward for killing the Stylite with one of the Artifex's own weapons, on top of the holo-field genrator, which he was planning to incorporate into one of his deamon-engines. He has no idea why the Stylite wanted one, but if he does, than obviously the Artifex had to get one too. The Artifex is intrigued by the deamon tethered to Cassius' weapon. Of course, that deamon, being of Khorne, and finding itself in the tower of a Tzeenchian forgemaster that binds deamons into weapons and machines for a living, must be shitting his metaphorical pants right now.

Rold: If we had a bleep track it would sound like Morse Code.

Jrska: This Roomba has a bound Deamonette. That's why it's trying to hump your leg.

The Artifex: This weapon and the deamon bound within will serve you for a thousand and one days.
Jrska: Q'sal days?
The Artifex: ....
Mr Batholomeas Jones: That's a good question.
Jrska: I know. You wouldn't want it to be some millisecond pulsar somewhere.

So, fully aware that we've set ourselves up for a sudden and inevitable betrayal, we make our plans. Jrska proposes that she and Cog distract the Stylite's minions, while the others fly up to finish the ranting 'hermit' off.

Jrska: We'll put on a show. Cyber-tassels. They can reach 400 rpm

Mr Batholomeas Jones: Did he give us a time limit on this job?
Rold: 1001 days.
Mr Batholomeas Jones: .... True.

The Artifex OoC: If you want, I can put this deamon into a fork.
Jrska OoC: Salad fork.of +4

And, of course, the local cops promptly investigate Cassius' attempts at divining the future, although they are careful not to come within 50 feet, just like the rest of us. We'll have to pay a fine of one hundred human souls, the currency of choice on Q'sal, for disturbing the local aether without a permit.

Jrska: And will this payment go into the city coffers, or you own?
Guard: ... Yes.

The side effects of Cassius' investigation into Things That Men Are Not Wont To Know include the sudden death of a nearby tree, which then turns into a chicken. Or, more likely, back into a chicken, since its raucous crowing is probably what got it turned into a tree in the first place.

GM: A window opens on a nearby building, and a hand emerges to fire a fireball at the offending rooster. Chicken McNuggets rain down across the street.
Mr Batholomeas Jones: *holding his cocker spaniel back* Down boy! Not for you!

And then one of the Stylite's minions meets us - HE wants to talk to us as well. Anyone care to guess whether he wants us to kill the Artifex? Our efforts to get the holo-field, so we can reach that alien beacon guarded by Ultramarines, is becoming increasingly convoluted. As befits any plan touched by Tzeench, the Architect of Fate.

Jrska: Well, there's no hurry - the Ultramarines have probably spent the last 10,000 years sitting around polishing their helmets.

This is the guy who does Cthulhu ala Dr. Seuss.

But he only wants to help you. Regardless with what: