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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>Now with shitty sketchy art as TwoDee gets used to his new tablet!

Alright, you ungrateful kids, settle down and sit on TwoDee's lap. It's time for SHADOWRUN STORYTIME 16: THE TALE OF FELIX RAMIREZ.

As per the usual:

>previous threads at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=shadowrun+storytime
>Feel free to comment or else this shit autosages like no other
>Posting will be quick at first then slow down dramatically. I've got about 5 pages in advance this time.
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Ten-year-old Felix Rodriguez had a basic idea of why his parents were sending him of to Aztechnology’s boarding school program. Ever since he’d been born, he’d been acutely aware of being Special. Being Special was not necessarily a good thing, and in fact it ostracized him from his peers more often than not, but his pointy ears and the strange little things that happened around him marked him irrevocably as Special nevertheless. He’d get proper training on how to handle his strange new powers, the Aztechnology rep had informed his parents, themselves poor coal miners. The gods of the Ancient Aztec civilization were showing favor on him, and it was nothing to be afraid of. He was—even the rep used the term—special. When Felix was loaded onto the bus and saw that almost every other boy was a large orc or troll, he felt even more alone. However, everyone was deeply respectful; stern, even. The Aztechnology rep—who insisted that he be referred to as “Jefe”—cheerily let all the boys know that, from this day forward, they would never be bullied again.

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“Hold the block! 2nd Armored needs to push through here in fifteen minutes with the General!”

Lieutenant Felix Ramirez vaulted over half of a civilian car as a Shiawase RPG slammed into the storefront behind him, splashing glass and chunks of brick and mortar all over the street. Felix scrambled to his feet and dashed for what remained of his squad’s APC, now a hunk of scrap flash-welded to the street after a particularly colorful encounter with a Drake Prime detachment. Shiawase and S-K were doing most of the heavy hitting in the capitol itself, but Felix had heard horror stories of the Red Samurai being airdropped in Medellin; of the strip mines going up in flames, depositing toxic flak into the surrounding countryside.
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As Ramirez slid behind the APC and reloaded his LMG, his milspec armor’s interface alerted him that structural integrity was greatly compromised on his left arm. He’d taken a single grazing shot from an assault cannon earlier, closer to the capitol building, back when the army still held it. He’d thought that it hadn’t done much except blast the decorative blue Eagle Warrior designs off the shoulder, but evidently the servos were fucked up something fierce, and his jarring movement wasn’t helping. He hadn’t managed to catch up to whoever it was firing the thing, but the steady “THUKKA THUKKA THUKKA” further down the street let him know that his assailant—one of many—wasn’t especially far off.

Ramirez focused his will, and called to him an aspect of Xiuhcoatl, the fire serpent. Gesturing in the direction of the Shiawase-garrisoned building that stood between him and what remained of his unit, he yelled “take ‘em out!” As the spirit roared over the totaled vehicle, he rolled out of cover, shot a grenade through the window, and then began to lay down a blaze of suppressive fire.
Once upon a time, Thunderfists got his hands on a rock that summoned ghouls and could even potentially make them. This rock was something else and had to be transported carefully in order to avoid attracting ghouls too much.

Him and his merry band of Shadowrunners decided they had had enough with the people of the city screwing them over, so they decided the city deserved to die.

So, they went about the city of Seattle very quickly plotting out a path to the fourteen major water supplies that kept the city alive. They cut the rock into fourteen major pieces, and placed one chunk in each supply.

After that, the party ended up being challenged by a dragon to a rock concert and won. They left town high on their power, and the town was quickly overrun by ghouls thereafter.

...I think that was the most evil character I've ever played. He smoked, drank, was addicted to psyche, and wanted nothing more than power over people who weren't willing to give it to him. Surprisingly his friends were much the same way, which was why they worked together so well. It was glorious.
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Screams rose up from inside the building as flames flowed out of the windows. Seeing his chance to move, Felix sprinted for the burning building even as he felt the familiar emptiness that came with the destruction of a bound spirit.

Shiawase had two strengths; manpower, and loyalty. The building was filled with well-equipped paratroopers. Unfortunately for them, Felix was magical, he was better equipped, he was better trained, and he was better armed. As the soldiers inside recovered from the spirit’s fire, Felix fell upon them like Huitzilopochtli himself, filling the room with armor-piercing rounds from his LMG even as he shot burning magma at the closest aggressors with the power of his mind. By the time he was done, the building looked like a charnel house, and he’d killed seven men.
You know what's odd?

I'm not on /tg/ all that often, I've gone weeks/months without accessing this board, but I've always managed to hit 2D storytimes

Welp, getting popcorn
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Felix didn’t even stop to think about what he’d just improbably lived through, and leapt out the back door of the building. He could see his men garrisoned in a garage that they’d barricaded with vehicle parts. Corpses—soldier and civilian alike—littered the streets. He counted heads; Sergeant Major Contreras, the Jaguar Warrior, was wounded but had propped himself up on the barricade, gun in hand. Tamayo, Herrerra, Salazar, and Osuna also looked mostly intact, if shellshocked. Luna, the squad’s doctor, was tending feverishly to Batista, the sniper, but Batista, who’d been shot by a countersniper while he tried to provide cover fire for the team earlier, looked like he wasn’t going to make it.

“Status report?”

Contreras smiled a weak smile.

“The general’s going to make it out. We’ve cleared the street out back, and we’ve got a good clear range of fire for when they push through the hood that you just came out of. There’s a bigass troll with an assault cannon; he’s going to be first target, obviously. You think you can get him with your spells?”
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Lieutenant Ramirez grimaced.

“His trog children will grow up without a father. That is a certainty. Hold the line!”

The rumblings of the mechanized division picked up behind the building, but the enemy wasn’t pushing to intercept the VIP. In fact, no one crossed the perimeter.

“This doesn’t feel right,” growled Contreras.

There was a loud droning from overhead, slowly getting louder. Felix looked up. Far above the battlefield were massive, bloated twinrotor planes, done up in a garish red paint job with stars and stripes. Behind them trailed little black dots, dots that slowly got larger as they fell towards the ground.

The entire squad solemnly put down their guns. Luna muttered a Catholic prayer. No one reprimanded him on following a non-Aztec religion. It didn’t matter now.

“Ares,” choked Felix, a single tear running down his cheek, as his Guidance spirit grabbed him, preparing to whisk him away from the neighborhood that was going to imminently be his entire squad’s grave, “Ares Macrotechnology, you American cocksuckers.”
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Felix Ramirez adjusted his tie for what had to be the twentieth time in the last hour. It felt strange to be wearing a suit, to be banking on his looks, charisma, and talent for the first time in over two and a half decades, rather than his innate proficiency with murder. Less than a week ago he’d been in Bogota getting shot at by snipers. And then he’d received word of his “promotion.”

To a jarhead like Felix, the civilian sector didn’t constitute a “promotion,” even if he was becoming an assistant-executive-in-charge-of-public-whatever-the-fuck. He’d seen his job on the line against the Aztechnology Homegrown Warrior Program flunkies for years now; it was probably better that he got out while he still had the benefits.

“…and that’s what you’ll do, at least in PR. You’ll of course have other duties. Which reminds me, we’ve got a staff meeting for the security mages tonight; you’ll be expected to show up at seven.”

Victor Gutierrez had been taking Felix on a tour of the building and opining on bits of corporate doublespeak that had flown far over Felix’s head. Pulling his eyes away from the window, Felix refocused on the conversation.
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“Right. I’ll be there.”

“Remember, Colonel,” said Gutierrez, a weaselly little man in a suit that didn’t quite fit him, “we all know how hard it was to get used to a new workplace at first.” His hand hovered insincerely over Felix’s shoulder without quite making contact. “Don’t hesitate to talk to people.”

Felix nodded solemnly and entered his office, a privacy-less glass affair with a cushy synthleather seat and a nexus partition. He didn’t speak to anyone until the mandatory meeting.

The meeting was in a boardroom. A bunch of enthusiastic-looking young mages and adepts sipped coffee and chatted, laughing at office gaffes and recountings of the latest telenovelas. Felix feigned smiles and returned conversation when it would be rude not to, but he wasn’t in the mood.

Gutierrez sat at the back of the boardroom, and gestured for everyone to start quieting down. Slowly but surely, the conversation drifted out of the room.

“Alright, gentlemen,” said Gutierrez, with a smile, “I’m sure that, considering last week’s fiasco, you know what this meeting’s all about. Horizon snuck a runner team into the basement, killed off a bunch of the spirits. We’ve got some spirits down there as a stopgap now, but obviously protocol will need to be restored. Volunteers?”
My balls are so hard right now.
By any chance are you at GenCon 2D? I would love to buy you a beer.
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An orc security mage raised his hand.

“How much material are we working with?”

Gutierrez brought up a few SIN images in AR space.

“Two captives. One’s a troll, though.”

Felix cocked an eyebrow.

“Wait a second. What do prisoners have to do with anything? I’ve got a few bound spirits, I could place them downstairs if need be.”

Everyone looked at Felix as if he were stupid. Gutierrez hazarded,

“Well, yes, but you didn’t perform the proper rituals. We can’t have half-rate spirits. This is a high-security facility.”

It took a moment to click for Felix.

“You…you mean blood magic!? But the Corporate Court outlawed it!”

A raucous laugh went around the entire boardroom. Gutierrez wiped at his eyes with a tissue.

“Yes, Mr. Ramirez, and I’m sure that MCT has stopped experimenting on technomancers and Renraku has stopped making Artificial Intelligences. It’s a fact of magic; sacrifice makes the best spirits. And at Aztechnology, we don’t settle for second-best.”

Felix tried not to show the disgust on his face.

“Well, you’re the new mage, Mr. Ramirez. What say we get you properly initiated?”

The other mages all nodded and looked at Felix in expectation.

“Uh…yeah. That’d be great. Company spirit and all.”

“Company spirits, Mr. Ramirez. When should we expect to see you down in the sub basement?”

“How about this weekend?”

Gutierrez smiled brightly.

“Excellent! Next on the meeting schedule: catching the asshole who keeps stealing sandwiches out of the company fridge on floor 15.”
I keep expecting one of the captives to be Trout. That would be funny if Gat's new character sacrificed off Trout for power.
Finally get to catch one of these live.


>Discuss hilariously evil magic.
>Immediately move on to the topic of lunch.

It always amuses me that Azetechnology is always so damned EVIL. I mean, it seems like everyone else at least PRETENDS to be good people.

Azzies? Will burn down an orphanage for a better view. But only AFTER using blood magic to turn all the little children into attack demon things.
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Alas, no. I'll be at Strategicon, though. Also, typing from here on out, I've got nothing else saved.


That night, with trembling hands, Felix turned on a disposable, untraceable commlink (a holdover from the front lines dodging Amazonian black-hat hackers) and called up an emergency contact that he'd been saving for a rainy day.

He said only this:

"Hello, Mr. Johnson. I would like to organize an extraction."


Felix had been waiting in the bolt hole for two months now.

The runners had entered the compound through the roof and extracted him via helicopter. Felix had left bombs around the compound as a distraction. He'd also set up spirits loyal to him within the various security checkpoints. He'd done everything to secure his freedom.

Everything except Blood Magic.

Their chopper had been shot down en route to one of the corporate complexes in Downtown Seattle. The runners had directed him to a collapsed building in Redmond that they used as a safehouse, and were keeping in case a direct hand-off wasn't feasible. And then they had all died when a second missile hit, although Felix had fled into the sewers in the chaos. He had been, at the time, a bit concerned that maybe Johnson wouldn't be able to find him after this fiasco.

He had been right.

Felix was on his last can of pork and beans, and wasn't relishing having to step out into the city, but it looked like the extraction was officially off.
>Great thread just got epic.
Damn, A bit of a haul for me, what with living in NY.
But eventually this brew will happen.
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Aztechnology are basically Captain Planet villains transplanted to a setting where that's actually dangerous.


Felix took a look around his "apartment," tallying up his inventory. None of the outdated electronics in the apartment were worth trying to bring with him to sell, from the trid to the wall fan (which was once a ceiling fan until the building had fallen over) to the refrigerator that he was using to bar the door on the ceiling to keep the devil rat nest on the floor above from toppling into his bedroom.

He had:

>One (1) LMG
>One (1) Heavy Pistol
>One (1) suit of Aztechnology Milspec Armor, still bearing its Eagle-Warrior accents.
>One (1) ballistic vest
>Three (3) Commlinks, brand-new.
>Two (2) Fetishes, aspected to the Aztec faith
>One (1) bound Guidance Spirit, Force 8
>One (1) fake SIN, "Pablo Hernandez"
>Seven (7) sets of clothes
>One (1) business suit
>One (1) sense of growing hunger
>Eighty-nine (89) cans of MREs, all eaten.

Felix brought up "Pablo Hernandez." He was listed as Occupation: Male Stripper, and yet in the SIN picture he had an awful horseshoe moustache. Brilliant. Who the fuck did they get this SIN from?

Resigning himself to what was probably going to be a terrible fate, Felix donned a polo shirt and his ballistic vest, through on some jeans, and hit himself with a Movement spell.

It was time to find a job.

>threw on some jeans, rather.
Oh man, I ahve been looking forward to this ever since you mentioned this character, 2D, when I was asking questions about my shadowrun aztec mage.

I wanted to get some sleep tonight, but I guess caffiene will have to do.

I honestly forgot I had that name on.

I don't have a lot of awesome Shadowrun stories, since only two games I've been in actually finished, and one of those I wasn't there for like the first half and most if the last third.

But I got a couple of tid-bits I might share when/if TwoDee decides he wants a break or something.


>Aztechnology are basically Captain Planet villains transplanted to a setting where that's actually dangerous.

That's officially the best description I've heard for the Azzies. You mind if I use that in the 'Abridged Guide to Shadowrun' I'm writing?
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Felix had no idea how freelance mercenary worked. He'd been a corper for close to forty years, and never even touched the business of shadowrunning except with movies and tridshows until his extraction. But he'd run out of food, his safehouse was falling apart, and he needed money. Runners had fixers, right? That was how they got jobs?

Felix plugged "fixer bar" into his commlink and followed the instructions.

What he hit was more like a fancy restaurant than a bar, which was something of a problem. He couldn't exactly sit down and order food, because he had exactly zero nuyen to his name.

So, mostly he just stood in the waiting area, milling around, being awkward, and shuffling his feet. It didn't help that he was in a polo shirt and jeans with obvious armor showing.

An attractive redheaded elf in a dinner gown showed up with a blonde man in a blue suit. Noticing Felix, the elf directed the man to go and get seated, and approached the Aztec mage.

"You look lost, sweetie."

Felix had personally watched the light go out of mens' eyes as he clutched the bayonet buried in their heart. He wasn't prepared for an attractive woman approaching him in such an awkward, embarrassing situation. He struggled to make eye contact.

"A little."

"Tell you what," said the woman, gesturing to the bar, "we'll take fifteen to see if I can help you find whatever it is you're looking for. Because, dressed like you are, it isn't here."

Go for it!


>how the freelance mercenary business worked

God dammit all the typos today.
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>One (1) suit of Aztechnology Milspec Armor, still bearing its Eagle-Warrior accents.

Can you please describe what this looks like? The only Milspec Armour I have in my head is Dervish's Iron Patriot armour.

>'Abridged Guide to Shadowrun'

Explain further.

I've been working on something like that (an abridged guide), only it was for rules, given how our... last group I joined we had some...

... I just want to avoid trouts in the future, more or less.
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Over a tequila cocktail (which the woman had graciously offered Felix, given that he was completely broke), the woman explained herself.

"My name's Brianna McReary. I'm a fixer with the Finnigan family. You know the Finnigan family?"

Felix slowly shook his head. Brianna cocked an eyebrow.

"Have you been hiding under a rock, or are you just new in town?"

Felix shrugged sheepishly. His answer came out with the tonality of a question.

"I left Aztlan two months ago and have been hiding in a bombed-out apartment building since then?"

Brianna let out a 'woosh' of breath.

"Hoo boy. Azzie extractee?"

Felix nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, we get those in the biz occasionally. Well, the first thing you want to know is that, if you're trying to get into running, you don't show up at a fixer bar. These are private establishments. Only fixers and Johnsons show up here, and we pay good money to keep our business quiet."

Felix's heart sank.


Brianna swirled around her own cocktail, a peach bellini.

"However, I couldn't help but notice the Aztec fetishes on your belt, and I have a team that happens to be out a mage."

Felix brightened up.

"You're serious? You're offering me a job?"

"I'm offering you a position. Johnson offers you the job. You're a complete rookie, so the team will have to show you the ropes."

Brianna handed him a business card that listed her as the owner of a local bar and grill.

"Show up at noon tomorrow. Don't be late. Any questions?"

Felix's stomach growled loudly.

"Um...could I get an advance payment of maybe 20 nuyen for a hot dog?"

Brianna smiled thinly.

"Sure, but I expect to be payed back in full."

Felix walked to the bus stop chomping on street meat, wondering what he was getting himself into.
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I always envisioned it as the Master Chief's armor with a bunch of decorative blue flanges in feather patterns around the shoulder pads and helmet. It was also medium milspec, not heavy milspec, so it wasn't as covering or clunky as Dervish's.
should we expect AMERICA-SAN and AZTEC-SAN glorious team-up?
Is this live? I think this is live. Oh Joy!

Wait. No Joy. Fuck that guy.

I don't want to waste time and draw attention away from TwoDee, since it's kinda bad form to just hijack a thread to attention whore, but I'll go ahead and explain this since it's quick and easy, and maybe put out more detail if/when there's a break.

A while back, I bought a copy of GURPS for dummies, expecting a informative translator/reference guide to help me better understand the brick-wall of a cluster-fuck that is the core rule-books.

It was nothing but elitist wank, and I would dearly love to see the fucks who wrote it and passed it off as a guide for the uninformed die in a fire.

Anyway, I realized there wasn't a lot of resources readily available for people getting right into the hobby a lot of time, and mostly it's buy a book and hope for the best.

There's no real guide to help you figure out which games might fit you the best, how to better learn and understand the rules, etc.

Sure, there's the occasional quick-start guide or fan-thingy, but finding something useful more often than not involves a perilous quest to some obscure corner of the fandom.

So I thought it would be cool to make a bit of quick, easy reading 'dummies'-like guides to help ease the transition and better understand the games. One part crunch, one part reference guide, and one part humorous explanation of fluff. First one's gonna be Shadowrun based, expected to be somewhere 'bout 30-40 pages, in one clean little PDF.

I'll shut up now, until a more appropriate time.

Hurp, derp, forgot to sage.


Hey, are you actually the Dervish from 2D's game?

Do you happen to have your character sheet? I had a friend of mine who was curious since he was building a melee focused Street-Sam.
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Really? I would think the Halo armour (can't remember its name) would be clunkier then the Iron Man armour we picture for Dervish.

Maybe something like this (stolen from googleimages ha!) where the armour around the joints isn't as dense in comparison to Dervishes all round armour plating.

But with a Beaky kinda helmet because its Eagle armour and thus like birdy.
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What do you think?


Felix wore his best suit to the Faulty Bar, only to find that it was a casual establishment. Evidently dress was a very peculiar thing in the running underworld. Undeterred, he marched by the old man in the trenchcoat at the bar, the half-dozen young hoods congregating around the sports vidfeeds, and marched up to the upstairs office.

The first figure he noticed was the absolutely massive orc in the American-flag bandana and armor jacket sitting on two folding chairs that had been propped up next to each other. He was working a plate of no less than three tri-tip steaks, with a few remaining bones suggesting that he'd already been through one or two.

The next figure was a thoroughly average-looking fellow leaning back in a recliner that was probably normally intended for visiting Johnsons. Upon spotting Felix, he reached into an adjacent duffel bag and produced a ballistic mask done up to resemble the face of a smiling clown, and donned it. The eyes of the clown-face lit up in a blaze of blue as the man began working in AR.

Brianna herself sat behind the desk.

"Welcome, welcome. Go ahead and introduce yourself."

"My name is Felix--"

"Wait, fuck!"

A thin elf wearing an odd hodgepodge of hippie getup (tie-die shirt, long shorts, sandals, buddhist sash) and military gear (bodysuit beneath clothes, red beret, military goggles, heavy police taser, combat knife) appeared out of invisibility.

"Don't use real names! Give us your street name!"

Felix recovered.

"Felix was a fake name. I don't have a street name yet."
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Yo, D!


The elf glared at Brianna.

"Great. You got us an Azzie and he doesn't even speak Runner."

The big orc swallowed loudly and turned to the elf.

"Dude, Bend, chill. We were all rookies once. Even you. What's your background, friend?"

Felix pantomimed holding his LMG.

"I'm an Eagle--a FORMER Eagle Warrior. I cast mostly combat and utility spells. I was also in Public Relations for a little while."

Hippie Commando groaned.

"We're going to have a COMBAT MAGE facing for us!?"

Clown Face took a moment to stare at Hippie Commando. Surprising Felix, he spoke with a thick Scottish brogue.

"Bend. What is your bloody problem?"

"I don't know, Wildcard, maybe that we're replacing Geppetto with a forest-killing human-sacrificing brainwashing Aztec?"

The orc burped. He'd made it through another steak.

"Geppetto did all of those things, too, and he had fun doing them. Which is arguably worse."

'Bend' looked between Felix and the orc. Eventually, with a pout, he slumped against the wall. Everyone took a few more moments to stare at Bend. The Clown turned to face Felix first.

"Look, I don't know what the hell got into him. The name's Wildcard. I run hacking, driving, and fighting in a pinch. Biggun's Dervish--or America-San if you're from Japan--and that's Bend making an arse of himself."

Bend snorted.
>Eagle Warrior
>Jaguar Warrior
Is that an Aztlan thing? Could you or someone else explain the significance of those titles for us?

Callbacks to Ancient Aztec history.

They're elite branches of the Aztec military, known collectively as the Guerrerros. They all have weird quirks.

Eagle Warriors: like the marines, but with magic.
Jaguar Warriors: also like the marines, but they only operate inside the country and have a lot of shapeshifters.
Brave Ones: Hardcore internal affairs spies. When you join they kill or brainwipe your family and friends and erase your identity.
Shorn Ones: Identified by a distinct braided hairstyle. Crazy ass black ops motherfuckers who work in pairs. Blowing shit up and scalping motherfuckers.
>that pic
Have you played Kingdom of Nothing?

It's actually an ancient Aztec thing. Eagle and Jaguar warriors were elite Aztec infantry. Eagle Warriors were dedicated to the Sun god, and were considered to be the most dangerous combatants in open battle while Jaguar warriors believed their patron to represent the god of the night sky. The latter would usually wear skins of animals to infuse themselves with the strength of their totem beast.

> Source: Age of Empires 2. Bad-fucking-ass game. Also, 10 seconds of wikipedia.
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"Is he going to keep being like this?"

Felix pointed to Bend.

"I hope not," announced Brianna, judgingly, as attention once again returned to the infiltrator.

"Look," said Bend, "the love of my life was killed in an op against Aztechnology. She wasn't the only good Ghost we lost, either. Found guys split open like fucking fish. Takes you a while to forget that shit, you know?"

Felix shook his head.

"I never did blood magic. I left before they could make me."

Bend took an aggressive step in Felix's direction.

"Fucking woo. You want a cookie? Want me to bake you a cake and write 'the one good Azzie' across it in whipped cream?"

Standing up, Dervish moved to step in between the two elves and defuse the situation.

"Bend, I thought the love of your life was a college sophomore."

"Fuck you, Dervish! Fuck you! You leave Emily out of this!"

"MEN! Come on, calm down."

Now everyone was standing, as Wildcard put his hands on Bend and Dervish's shoulders.

"The question comes down: do we give...uh...Pablo Hernandez a chance?"

Felix looked down at his commlink and found a virus alert. Evidently the runner team hadn't left him the best firewalls.

Dervish grinned.

"I say fuck yeah. Besides, initiating new members is one of my favorite things."

Bend scowled, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Eventually, he slumped his shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess."
>the love of my life was killed in an op against Aztechnology
>Bend is still inlove with the dead girl

So much for his new hippy girlfriend.
>I post this
>scroll down a bit more
>dervish calls him out on the same thing


Afraid not. Just found it in a cyberpunk art thread.
>"I say fuck yeah. Besides, initiating new members is one of my favorite things."



Technically, this is a twofer. Bend was never officially initiated, either, since he came in right at the beginning of the Two-Times run.

So we had to make it extra special.
Weird, it isn't cyberpunk at all. It's about magical hobos.
Wasn't Bend's initiation done with Wildcard?
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Wildcard nodded.

"Okay, so it's initiation."

Brianna slapped her palm onto her face.

"Do you really have to?"

Dervish nodded enthusiastically.

"Hey, I didn't make the rules. Geppetto did. And now it's fallen to us to continue his legacy."

"Fine, just make it quick and don't be too stupid."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Brianna."

Bend pulled out his taser. Felix eyed it suspiciously. Were they going to test his vest or something?

Dervish patted Wildcard on the back.

"You're better with words than me or Bend. You wanna handle this one?"

"Sure thing, Dervish. Let me just send that texan cop a message from "THE EXCHANGE" winning him a gift certificate to The Cheesecake factory."

Felix looked between the three teammates.

"What does any of this have to do with shadowrunnAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUAUUUUGH."

Felix's question was interrupted as Bend jammed the military-strength taser into Felix's balls and shot ten million volts right into his nutsack. Felix's head collided with one of Dervish's fold-out chairs, upending it as the combat mage crashed to the floor, convulsing wildly.

Bend grinned.

"Welp, let's grab some booze and get him to the basement."

Bend was the last one, D.

This one was just Felix, it's just that Felix was EXTRA-crazy. Don't spoil anything!

I can't remember how 2D told it in earlier Storytimes, but I seem to recall that at the table, it was only now that we realized our previous oversight.

Nah, I'm fairly certain we got Bend back with Geppetto, both in the story and in the game. Either way, all of the crazy shit was on Felix this time around anyhow.

Er, back with Wildcard, rather.

I wouldn't dream of it, sir. My place is to add tantalizing half-truths and hints to increase tension when shit hits the fan, and to provide witty or insightful commentary otherwise.

It's really funny, though. Just like another Anon earlier up, I rarely frequent /tg/, but I've gotten very lucky checking in the last two times in order to catch live storytimes.
I saw that SR seemed to have a quickstart on their website. (I don't know how to nav to it, but googling SR4 quickstart gets it). How's that?

Also, our group including the GM is completely new to SR. It's fun, but I can't help but think that maybe the matrix and magic rules may be getting bollixed and nobody's noticing.
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Felix awoke strapped to a chair, with aching nuts, breath inexplicably reeking of more tequila, and a hood affixed to his head that forced him to see through mirrored AR goggles. He panicked and began straining against his bonds, as without a direct line-of-sight his spells were worthless.

Wildcard stood in front of him, in his best business suit, with his clown mask donned. The eye sockets of the mask glowed red, as did Bend's goggles and Dervish's cybereyes. All three were swaying a little, and Dervish was holding an almost-finished handle of vodka.

Wildcard glanced back at Felix.

"Oy! Boys! Sleeping beauty fookin awakes!"

As Wildcard began to walk towards Felix, stumbling a little, Felix moaned,

"What do you want with me?"

"We want to teach you--" Wildcard roughly grabbed Felix's shoulders, and leaned in close, the vocorder in his mask distorting his voice sinisterly, "--about the fookin' SYSTEM."

"The system?"

"Rookie, where the fook d'you think I grew up?"

Felix shrugged against his restraints.

"Uh, Scotland?"

Wildcard punched Felix flat-out across the face before forcing a bottle of malt liqour into his mouth.

"Wrong, rookie! I grew up in the bloody Scottish Exclusion Zone! Ain't nothin' left of old Scotland there, just a big stinkin' glowin' radioactive fookin' pit! And you know what they do in that pit?"

Felix gargled against his liqour.

"That's goddamn right, they don't do nothin' cause they're all SINless! From the Yoo-fookin-Kay to the Yoo-fookin-Cass, our society's built on a teetering bloody jenga tower of the suffering of the unwashed dipshit masses!"

At this point Felix was legitimately terrified.

Shadowrun actually has a cool box called 'The Runner's Toolkit' which is one of the few game-goodie bags I automatically and unquestionably recommend to anyone who likes Shadowrun, from total noob to Chummers on the run since the Gibson days.

It's got a pimping as hell GM screen, a cool character generator thing called 'P.A.C.K.S.', quick-start shit, cards that explain the basics of several key features (like hacking and spirits) in a very clear and convenient way, and has a cool book called 'Anatomy of a Shadowrun' which breaks down a run in both the fluff and crunch, and helps illustrate the basic function of the game in progress than literally any other guide I've ever read.

You can grab this mystical box of goodies, that I would recommend at $40-50, at about $20 off Amazon and/or from most FLGS. It's seriously a must-buy if you think Shadowrun is cool.

Seconding the ever-loving fuck out of this.

From amazon:

>The Runners Toolkit provides a plethora of tools for both gamemasters and players to make running easier than ever. This box contains the following - A deluxe, hard-cardboard 4-panel Gamemasters Screen. On The Run, a 56 page A First adventure. Contacts, Adventures and Sprawl Sites, a 32 page booklet of ready-to-use contacts, and a host of adventure ideas. 4 letter-sized, full-color laminated maps of the Sprawl Sites locations. A 64 page book of tables from Arsenal, Augmentation, Street Magic, and Unwired - a perfect shopping list for character creation. Anatomy of a Shadowrun, a fiction and rules walkthrough of a typical run. The Pregenerated Auxiliary Character Generation System (PACs), a plug-and-play system for quickly generating characters - also includes 7 new sample characters. 6 heavy-duty double-sided cardstock Quick Reference Cheat Sheets for use during gameplay.

I've actually bought TWO. It's THAT GOOD.
Unfortunately our game is online.

Anyway, suppose you have a roll, 2, 2, 1. You edge it, and get [6,1], 1, 1. Is it now a glitch, for having four ones on 6 dice?

>A 64 page book of tables from Arsenal, Augmentation, Street Magic, and Unwired -
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Dervish yelled,

"You WANNA be an unwashed masses, Rookie?"

"Isn't it the singular? Unwashed mass--"

Felix spat blood as Wildcard clocked him across the face, hooking from the other direction this time. Dervish leaned in to Felix's face and continued yelling,


Felix spat and choked as Dervish forced the rest of the handle of vodka down his throat.

About five minutes later, an alternating treatment of violence and alcohol had Felix truly soused. Felix wailed,

"But what are we gonna DO about the system! You gringo motherfuckers haven't told me anything!"

Wildcard leaned in close enough to kiss Felix. His porcelain-textured "nose" brushed against Felix's own.

"Rookie, you have asked the question that needs asking."

"I have?"
So buying that.
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Bend and Dervish saluted Wildcard while Wildcard sniffled like a patriot reciting the national anthem.

"A great man once told us that our consumerist society runs on greed, and on inferior services that we are expected to say 'yes thank you' to! Well, this man knew his biz! He recognized how people ain't people no more, herded through all stages of our society like fookin' sheep! They bleat and they eat and they soak up their mediocrity like mud! It is up to us to be their liberators. To be THEIR SAVIORS."

"It...it is?

Bend slit the ropes binding Felix's hands as Wildcard helped him up, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"We are the unsung fookin' heroes, but today we're gonna sing. We're going to wake them all up. We're going to show this society what it means to be the underclass. You wanna know how?"

Felix burped up a little vomit. He was very excited to show the world this thing that they were going to show it about...people.

"We're gonna rob a bloody Cheesecake Factory in Bellevue. We're gonna rob the SHITE out of it."

There was a long pause. Felix eventually broke the silence with a cry of,

"Well, fuck YEAH!"

The entire team drunkenly cheered and made for the car.

You know, I just realized something about the whole recruitment rant.

Wasn't it 2D who first did it?

... isn't it kinda funny how, given the nature of that rant, 2D is now a corporate spider?

If you're the dirty, unethical sort, it isn't that hard to find most of the books in a torrent or something.

I just timed myself, and while I won't help you in your quest since I don't support the pirating of certain quality products being a believer in the free-market system, I will tell you it took me approximately 47 seconds to find all the Tool-kit material in .pdf format.
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>"Sure thing, Dervish. Let me just send that texan cop a message from "THE EXCHANGE" winning him a gift certificate to The Cheesecake factory."
Beautiful. Can't have him miss one, can we?

>cheesecake factory
Wait, I thought Shadowrun was set in the future, pic related.

I'd have to look it up, but I think there might actually be a Cheesecake Factory in the Seattle 2072 book.
World of Warcraft art... well, at least it's Horde
*ahem* Demolition Man, "In the future, all restaurants are Taco Bell."

Funnily, they drive Oldsmobiles in that movie...and Oldsmobile went out of business
>"Sure thing, Dervish. Let me just send that texan cop a message from "THE EXCHANGE" winning him a gift certificate to The Cheesecake factory."

>"We're gonna rob a bloody Cheesecake Factory in Bellevue. We're gonna rob the SHITE out of it."

Oh fuck monkies. They are calling the cops on THEM SELVES.
>2D is now a corporate spider
I think you fail to comprehend the difference between "a corporate spider" and head of matrix security for Ares Macrotechnology.
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At Felix's command, because the Rookie always made the plan during Initiation, the team stopped at his hideaway in the Redmond Barrens. After numerous jokes about his shitty living situation, Felix burst out of his closet (read: hole in the wall) wearing his full Eagle Warrior regalia. Across from Dervish in his own power armor and Wildcard in his SWAT armor, the team was loaded for bear.

As the team walked back to the car, LMG, HVAR, shotgun, and heavy taser in hand, Bend asked,

"Well, what's the plan, Azzie? Newbie always makes the plan."

Felix took a few moments to think.

"I think..."

Everyone looked at Felix expectantly.

"I think...we should burst through the front door...kick their asses..."

He paused again. Dervish's metal hands clinked in a "go on" motion.

"I think we should burst in through the front door, kick their asses, and take all their shit."

Bend gawked at Felix.

"That's the plan?"

"That's the plan."

Wildcard electronically set his HVAR to "full auto." Dervish ejected his clip of stun shells and replaced it with an extended magazine of sticknshock. Dervish nodded approvingly and responded,

"That is a FUCKING EXCELLENT plan."

I knew I was missing something.

I don't think that I've seen that movie since the turn of the millennium.

.... I don't watch much TV...

I thought he was head of Ares' matrix security FOR SEATTLE. So excuse me, let me quote him.

"I don't want to be A spider, I want to be THE spider, you corporate motherfucker!"

TwoDee is HoS for Ares Seattle at this point. Which means that he does technically have an administrative position more than an active one, even if it's just in one subsidiary.

Also, yes, it is deeply ironic that TwoDee was the original giver of the spiel. He's kind of a shitbag, if you haven't noticed.
>Dervish nodded approvingly and responded
>"That is a FUCKING EXCELLENT plan."

A man after my own heart.
>He's kind of a shitbag
TwoDee is not a shitbag!
Go fuck yourself!
Sure people talk about not selling out, but then they realize it has some serious advantages. A steady paycheck, less hazardous, you don't have to live under the radar all the time, you can have a family, raise some kids. All of the principles about fighting the man are often ripped apart by stacks of cash.

Quick, how many people just started shipping TwoDee (Player) with TwoDee (Character)?
Oh man, you guys want to hear about Quentin the baddest orcu who ever got behind a wheel?

None, you're sick.
After TwoDee is finished.
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That is weird and maybe illegal.

TwoDee, any chance we can see a character sheet for Felix?
Don't some run for the stacks of cash? The kid (left over from that troll Trout ran) was what got 2D out.
>TwoDee is not a shitbag!
>[Addressing TwoDee's player] Go fuck yourself!
Kids these days.
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Of course. I just wanted to know if I should start typing.

As I remember it was the kid, the AI, and the fact that his halloweener juggalo ork girlfriend was pregnant.
Yeah but going legit means you get steady stacks of cash, usually less danger, a corp backing you up. You get stability.
Freesprites != AIs.

Fair enough, I couldn't remember if it was a nascent AI or a free sprite.
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>Kids these days.
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At this point I would like you to get your Itunes/mp3 player/whatever and turn on That Song. All of you have it. It's the song that gets you pumped up as all hell, and it's unique to everyone. Basically, it's the song that, every time it comes on, no matter how stupid or mainstream or indie or whatever it is, you go "fuck yessss." Feel free to share with the rest of the class, my choice was Muse's "Knights of Cydonia."



That was all the warning given to the upper-middle-class families and dating couples and local fashionistas of the Bellevue branch of The Cheesecake Factory before the door literally EXPLODED from one of Felix's spells. As the dumbfounded diners gawked, an Aztec Eagle Warrior in full regalia stomped into the restaurant, followed by a man in SWAT gear wearing a clown mask and America-San, the Nico Nico Douga meme. A maitre'd stood up shakily from a menu stand and said,

"I'm calling the--"


With that, Felix threw his arm forward, caught the maitre'd's chest, and flipped him into a tasteful hardwood display like a pro wrestler.

Wildcard lowered his gun a little.

"Um, I think we gave Rookie a little too much to drink."

Dervish fired his shotgun in the air.


In the back of the restaurant, a lone texan slowly stood and drew his Cavalier Deputy.
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I'd have to ask Felix/Geppetto's player, but it's out there. More likely I'll be able to find it when I move back into our college village apartment in September, so hang tight for character doxing in future Storytimes.



With a "BRRRRRRRRRR," Felix opened up with his LMG, ruining the wallpaper (and walls, and adjacent bathroom) behind Officer Joseph Green. The cop dropped his gun and threw himself to the ground.

"Jesus CHRIST, Stars n' Stripes, you've got your Rookie using live ammo!? Someone could get hurt!"

Dervish slapped Felix on the back of the head with a "CLANG."

"Sorry about that, buddy! And it's America-San!"

"I don't care what the fuck it is!"

Green yelped as a rifle butt nudged his back. He looked up to see Wildcard holding a pair of zip-ties.

"Oh, COME ON."

Bend materialized in the middle of the crowd with a sack full of jewelry, credsticks, and commlinks.

"Guys, did we disable the alarms?"

A SWAT van promptly smashed through the front of the restaurant's facade.
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If I recall correctly, 2D got out of the running business mainly out of self-preservation. Running the shadows isn't the best profession for anybody keen on not getting riddled with bullets regularly.
Nah, man, it was 'cause his lady was preggers and he wanted to be a good father.

TwoDee was a good dude, no matter what TwoDee says him.
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Bracing his HVAR on Green's shoulder, Wildcard let loose with his HVAR on the first cop to jump out of the truck. A dozen expanding rubberized gel bullets smashed into the SWAT soldier's head and upper body, stumbling him back towards the truck. Dervish landed a sticknshock on the next cop to jump out, sending him crashing to the ground as well.

With a "PHOONK," Felix fired an underbarrel grenade directly into the truck.

Green gawked.


Wildcard protested,

"We didn't know he had them!"

The entire team hit the deck as SWAT cops poured out of the truck and stumbled into the restaurant, before the whole back end of the truck caved outward with the explosion. A few of the cops at the back took the shrapnel to the back armor plates and stumbled, but no one was killed. The truck, on the other hand, was totalled.

Not wasting any time, Wildcard and Dervish promptly opened up on the cops with their less-lethal rounds, each echoing a chorus of "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" as they backed towards the kitchen.
youtu.be/NiGFAt9kxcA or JrcpyjOU868 or more likely DMkZfSV8MJo
Would that be the Loneſtar officer in question who routinely participates in these, whether he likes to or not?

Oh lord, lethal ammo and milk runs.


(Am I the only SR player who finds regular ammo to not be that good? It's generally gel rounds, SnS, and ExEx all the way, breaking out the latter primarily against hard targets like drones.)
The player behind Geppetto and Felix sure does love to kill people.
>Would that be the Loneſtar officer in question who routinely participates in these, whether he likes to or not?
>Officer Joseph Green
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Oh yes.


It kinda comes with "mage" territory.



Wildcard let his HVAR hang on its sling and drew his Predator, the better to fire with while dragging Officer Green along in a headlock. As a tac-suited cop breached the back door, he plugged him clean in the neck with a gel round, dropping the gasping Knight Errant officer in one lucky shot.

"Sorry! Force of habit!"

With that, Felix landed a stunball in the middle of the pursuing SWAT team, dropping quite a few of them (as well as some unlucky dining patrons). As the team ducked behind the kitchen shelves, the cops opened up, turning the dining room into a hell of splintering wood and gel rounds. The civilians fled in a mass, in the process bowling over and trampling a few cops trying to get in through the SWAT van hole.

As Dervish powered through the back door and approached the parking lot, he saw something very bad.

Another SWAT team parked a few spaces off from the car.

>GM's face when

I personally like going non-lethal, because when you have a rep for being extremely professional and courteous and doing your best not to get anybody seriously hurt, people tend to return the favor.

It's one thing that often gets ignored in Shadowrun: people prefer not to die. When the other team is willing to use tasers and rubber bullets, only an idiot opens up with live-fire.

I mean, when you're caught trying to take a proto-type something out of a Megacorp compound worth about a million bucks, odds are good they aren't going to play nice.

But 99 times out of a hundred, non-lethal is the best way to go.
This makes me want to play shadowrun now. Just everything about this story makes me want too.
Time for surprise rules. Another thing that seems to get missed.

>It kinda comes with "mage" territory.

My mage is very bad at being one then. They prefer full non-lethal if they can...well, until they start rolling out the Guardian Spirits with Battle Rifles.
Why, writers? Why do dart guns use Exotic!?
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That... was beautiful...

The go-to spell of every mage who wants his enemies to love him

I think you lose any right to talk about non-lethal when you give spirits Automatic weapons.

Going non-lethal can be hilarious, if you build the character right.

Which one would you be more afraid of: a guy who just killed like ten thugs by himself, or the guy who took out just as many so hard that he didn't even need to kill/hurt them?

Buddha Bob, technical pacifist martial arts adapt remains one of my favorite characters ever.
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One of the other songs I played during the actual run-through of this was Jet's "Are You Gonna Be My Girl."

It fit.


Without hesitating, the SWAT team promptly opened fire on the team. As Dervish was knocked flat on his ass, he yelled to the rest of the team,

"We've pissed them off now; they're using live ammo! What the fuck is wrong with you, Rookie!"

"I'm sorry! I said I was sorry"

Felix loaded a clip of gel rounds and hosed down the remaining cops in the dining room as the team rallied around the back entrance. Wildcard loaded another clip.

"Alright, Rookie, you've got more juice, yeah? We're gonna need you to hit 'em with something with a good area, then we'll move for the car while laying down suppressive fire."

Felix nodded.

"Tres, Dos, UNO!"

The team punched out of the back entrance in a cacophony of gunfire, with Felix first out of the breach, then Wildcard and Dervish, then Bend. They alternated between running at full tilt and keeping the cops behind cover, before piling into the car.

There was a metal clinking noise as a grenade landed on the roof of the car. Acting on instinct, Bend cast a levitate spell and flung it back onto the hood of the SWAT van. The startled cops promptly began vaulting over the adjacent cards.

Wildcard turned to yell at Bend, feverishly buckling his seatbelts.





With a horrible KERBANG noise, the front of the SWAT van caved, marking the second truck the team had destroyed in the last fifteen minutes. Glass shattered and car alarms shouted throughout the parking lot.

"JUST DRIVE," yelled Dervish, as more sirens closed in.

Sorry, but I don't need to leave my prey alive to come hunting after me in two or so years time. If I'm on a run and I've got the go ahead to put the opposing force 6 feet under. I will!
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Dammit, I just did the threw>through typo again.

Eh, different games, different groups, different tones.


Swear to god, that gets me every fucking time I do a thread like this.

Feel your pain bro.

Taking the enemy perk puts the value of lethality into perspective.
Hey TwoDee, can you clear something up for me? On the last story time, Wildcard mentioned to Geppetto that the people who they dropped the doc off with had their AR feed in German. Apparently that meant something, but it kind of went over my head. Care to help clear it up?
Oh, there's a time and a place, certainly.

I just like the non-lethal route because RP reasons tend to make it my go-to, and because I personally like the challenge.

I mean, killing everybody is a lot easier than managing to incapacitate everybody separately, keep them down long enough to do the job, and then getting out without anybody getting seriously hurt.
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My personal choice of FUCK YEA during that particular scene. Every time I use it for that purpose it seems to synchronize perfectly for me.
It means Saeder-Krupp. Largest Corporation in the world, owned in its entirety by a dragon.

Saeder-Krupp (not sure that's the correct spelling off the top of my head) is Lofwyr's company, arguably the single most powerful entity in the world.

Germany is basically their personal playground.

The 'oh shit' was because it's the biggest most powerful corp, owned and run by what might well be the single most powerful being running around.
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The car tore into the streets of the poshest, most tastefully decorated, lowest-crime neighborhood with somewhere in the neighborhood of five police interceptors, six police cars, and another SWAT van in tow.

As Joseph Green slowly stood up in the parking lot, without the use of his arms, coughing at the exhaust, gunsmoke, and other assorted smoke in the air, he yelled,


With all windows rolled down, and the runners inside returning fire on the cops, Wildcard had to maneuver more and more tightly through the promenades of Bellevue as the team saw increasingly more pursuit. Compounding this, of course, was the fact that everyone was still mildly to very inebriated (with the possible exception of super-metabolism Dervish).

Wildcard yelled, as a helicopter raced overhead,


Dervish angrily yelled back,



As Wildcard slammed up the on-ramp, ramping onto the shoulder to evade traffic, he considered that this might be an especially ignominious end for the team.

His car hit its max speed near 280 miles per hour.

Then it kept going.
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Wildcard looked in the mirror to see a glaring representation of Tonatiuh, the Shining One, otherwise known in this instance as a Force 8 Guidance spirit.





The car had now outpaced the helicopter, and appeared to be racing with the planes lifting off from Sea-Tac. Cars turned to mere blurs, even ones heading in the same direction as the team. Wildcard stayed on the shoulder, unwilling to even try to dodge the cars.


The entire team sank back into their seats as a KRAKATHOOM noise rang in their ears. Soon, the planes were blurs, as was everything else on Earth.

You see, a Guidance or Man spirit who uses movement multiplies the speed of its target by its force. As Dervish's player calculated for us at this point,

>280*8=2,240 miles per hour

>You see, a Guidance or Man spirit who uses movement multiplies the speed of its target by its force.

I did not know that.

BRB, stating out the Stig as a mystic Adept.
>2,240 miles per hour


Seriously, delighted I finally get to see a SRST posted live. I WANT TO HAVE YOUR INTERNET-BABIES, 2D!

I want to see the Stig race Wildcard... BATTLE OF THE MASKS!
If you enchant your car as a mystic foci you could hypothetically run over ghosts and spirits.
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Why not just enchant a cowcatcher and attack it to your car.,, then have an spirit possess it somehow
Well, besides the very angry spirit coming back, possessing your car, and going all "Christine" on your ass for making it possess a fucking cow-catcher
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At this point, GM made the executive ruling that Movement also cancels out the force of friction, so Wildcard's car didn't just explode by the third sonic boom.

Recognizing that it was only a matter of time before the car torpedoed clear through a freeway wall and into a building, Bend, Felix, and the Guardian spirit put concerted effort into Levitating the car, at least enough to clear them a route out to the Snohomish boondocks.

Slowly but surely, its wheels spinning so fast that they were actually causing spontaneous flames to appear, Wildcard's car lifted off, rising above the oncoming traffic.

Bend and Felix's seatbelts snapped open, the buttons depressed by sheer force of air against the plastic and metal. The entire team realized with terror that they couldn't breathe.

As the car sailed over the border of Bellevue into Snohomish, racing over treetops and houses and blasting the leaves and shingles off of them, respectively the second sonic boom sounded.


That's Mach 3, for those of you at home. Nearly as fast as the top speed of an SR-71 Blackbird, whose default maneuver for avoiding a locked-on missile is merely to accelerate.

> Why yes, I am a mechanical/aerospace engineer. How could you tell?

Magic can get really, really ridiculous. And awesome. But mostly ridiculous.
This may be everything I ever wanted to see happen in a game. Drunken hold ups followed by making your car fly away as the cops chase you.
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Admittedly, this was a stupid-powerful spirit Movement-ing basically the fastest car that can be built in Shadowrun. It was like the perfect storm.


Although he'd been trying to hold on to the grip above his seat, Dervish's fingers finally pried apart one by one, and his fist smacked loudly into his face and remained stuck there. Felix was smushed into the back seats of the car, while Bend was up against the rear window, which was made of double-layered bulletproof glass that was nevertheless cracking.

The car hit its third sonic boom as it neared Salish territory, which then hit the car AGAIN as the car began to slow down once more.

Deep in Salish farmland, the car began decelerating, and as it decelerated it descended, until it eventually hit a wheat field at about three hundred miles an hour. The second sonic boom hit again, finally blowing out the rear window, as the car neared one-hundred and fifty. Bend hastily gecko-gripped the interior of the car as he flopped like a ragdoll.

Slowly the car came to a stop, just in time to vault the edge of the field onto a country road. There was a brief pause as, shaky-kneed, the team stumbled out of the car.

Felix began vomiting profusely out of his cracked faceplate right as the original sonic boom hit, sending everyone sprawling onto their asses.
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Felix's arm-servomotors whirred as he attempted to stand up again while still hosing down his own face and everything in a direct 90-degree angle away from his face, and he slipped and tumbled repeatedly in his own vomit before finally lying still. Wildcard roughly grabbed the chin of his mask and threw it off of his face, sending it arcing into a roadside ditch, before joining Felix in his debasement. Bend made gurgling noises, but lay flat on his back on the road and managed to fight it down.

Aside from a bruised face, Dervish was mostly okay. He kicked Wildcard in the side softly.

"So...I'm thinking we lie low for a little while."

A defensive interceptor missile sailed overhead and landed somewhere in the forest. Dervish and Wildcard winced at the explosion.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm thinking that's a good idea. I'll take the rookie."

With a loud CLANG, a hubcap fell off the hyundai.
I get that sonic booms are produced because air can't get out of the way fast enough.

But why would you make multiple, then? You only break the speed of sound once?
their deceleration as well

That was artistic license on my part. I know science doesn't work that way.

It was more like, every "mach," they were producing enough of an air vacuum that it crunched the car a little harder, and moreover sucked to decelerate back into it. The only actual sonic boom was the one at the very start and the very end.
I thought you weren't the GM.
He's writing the story.

Yes, you are correct, Mach 2+ objects only produce 1 sonic boom (but please forgive 2D - it's the future, there's magic, and he's a very talented liberal arts major).

Some people standing below/beside may still hear two booms, however, due to the angle the shockwave makes with the aircraft/car changing as it decelerates, but that's kind of complicated stuff to explain in a Shadowrun thread.

Either way, the power of the shockwave IS still stronger the faster you were traveling, so the described damage is absolutely appropriate. Unfortunately, we would have also left a several-hundred-meter-wide trail of identical damage all the way behind us. I'm really, really glad that thought never occurred to the GM.
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Felix woke up in a strange bedroom in a suburban house at two in the morning. His interface alerted him that he'd only had an hour of sleep. This was unimportant. Perimeter was important. He didn't know whose house this was.

Still quite drunk, he stumbled towards the closet, and threw it open, revealing his milspec armor. Hastily, he donned it, and backed into the corner of the closet, bracing his gun and hitting the joint locks on his armor so that he wouldn't have to rely on his own strength. Not when he was so tired. And drunk. And dehydrated. And did he have internal bruising?

Felix promptly passed out again in his armor, standing up and braced against the back of the closet.

The closet was opened in the morning by Wildcard. Wildcard was wearing nothing but his clown mask and a pair of boxer-briefs that his cock was hanging halfway out of, and holding a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.

"Felix? Hello? You in there?"

Felix promptly started awake and, with all of his joints still locked, toppled forward and face-planted directly onto the hardwood floor. Groaning loudly at the mighty and eternal God-king of all hangovers, he unlocked his joints and slowly rolled over, bleeding from the nose.

"My everything hurts."

"Well, hopefully your pride doesn't, rookie, because I've got good news."


"You passed initiation."

Felix's eyes lidded.

"Do I get a street name now?"

Wildcard poked the servos on Felix's elbow with his toe.

"Of course you do. Welcome to the team, Locke."

Wouldn't they only be pressed into their seats, etc. while ACCELERATING to mach 3? Wouldn't they just be comfortable once they were cruising?

They were accelerating the whole time, until they started decelerating, and at that point there were no windows so air was coming through.

You can chalk a lot of this up to the fact that Dervish's player knows way more about science than I do, though, and yet I'm the one writing the story.

Also, Dervish, I'm an ARTS major, not a liberal arts major! Get it right, ya git!
>I'm really, really glad that thought never occurred to the GM.
Yeah, I was thinking "What they ripped off cannot possibly cover these damages."

Of course, that was true just with SWAT van #1, I think, unless you got some loaded 'sticks.
Looks like yer up.

So even more usele- No, bad science superiority complex!

I'm pretty sure the damages from this run were somewhere in the millions. Ironically, it was the second-most-damaging run we've ever had, and the most damaging one almost doesn't count because it was the finale and had dragons.

In case you're wondering how much we made, it was 2,500 nuyen.
Alright, 2D's done, and I promised a quick one at the end/break time.

Do you guys want to hear about Captain Cliche, or Buster the Troll?


Could be worse: he could be a Geologist.

Oh, I guess the miles of forest and tundra that TwoDee thorshotted fall in there somewhere, too, but that's almost cheating.
I guess Tonatiuh kept the pedal to the metal until deceleration. Probably racked a few Gs in difference, too.

>He could be a geologist.

You just made me laugh my ass off for reasons you cannot even possibly guess, and which are nevertheless relevant to Shadowrun Storytime. Dervish should also be laughing at this exactly as much as I am.

I'ma go with Captain Cliche.
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Oh yes, but you see, one does not accelerate to Mach 3 over the course of a city's length - not without pancaking the non-cybered passengers.

Supersonic physics is still normal physics. The precise aerodynamics may still be a bit rough and estimate-y, but it isn't until you start hitting relativistic speeds that the really strange stuff starts filtering in.

Also, pic relevant for our new boon companion, Locke.

I've had to work with Geologists before.

When your entire study of acadamia amounts to 'I looked at a lot of dirt' and the guy who runs around as the bitch at a small mine knows more than you for everything but technical terminology (meaning everything that's of fuck-all practical use), I can't give you much credit.

Especially since most Geologists I've had to deal with are self important shits with an ego capable of blocking out the sun.

>Captain Cliche

Caaaaan do....
I am feeling trepidation because my GM suggested that he'd tell the story of one of our "Well, the important people for this run aren't here, let's fill in one of the timeskips" sessions.

Captain Cliché sounds mildly better because "Buster the Troll" tells less in 50% more word.

>Especially since most Geologists I've had to deal with are self important shits with an ego capable of blocking out the sun.

Please, Dervish, please tell this man why this is way funnier to us than to anyone in this thread.

and oh my dear goodness, your entirely innocent remark about geologists HAS in fact made my night.

Trout's player is a geologist.
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Alright, so a while back, a friend of mine invited me to take part in a Shadowrun game that was run by a veteran GM doing some hard-core serious shit.

I, being the smug ass I am, roll up Buddha Bob, mentioned earlier in this thread: a technical pacifist martial arts adapt.

The rest of the party consists of:

Mr. Sunshine, a Vampire infiltrator type (who's also a master of the arts martial).

Chazzy Boi, a hacker/drone rigger type.

And Ten-Pin, Troll Combat wizard.

We meet our first Johnson in a bar, and he asks us to steal some sort of low-powered magical thing out of a museum.

Nothing special about this run, except at the end of it, we spot a man in the distance, looking at us askance.

Basically imagine Adam Jenson, is Adam Jenson had two Katanas strapped to his back and made a habit of standing dramatically on rooftops in the silvery moon-light.

I know what you're thinking: Bad-ass self insert GMPC?

Pretty much. I share Mister 2D's dislike of Harlequin,l but at least chcukle-fuck McNotAClown has this going for him: He is not Johnny Killblade.

Yes, Johnny Killblade.

I hate that name the most, and I've seen a 'Captain Vengeance' and 'Reyvan Darkfyre'.

Over the next three runs, this guy comes out of nowhere to ruin everything by pulling an alarm or cutting the getaway car in half because he thinks it's his duty to try and kill us for the dishonarable act of 'breakin and entering'.

In fucking SHADOWRUN the GM hates us for being CRIMINALS.

Yeah. That kind of game.
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Aaaaand I'm going to bed on that note. See all you cats tomorrow, at least for a very short time before I go to my friend's going-away party.
> Johnny Killblade.

Has this person ever played a monk called Frank Punchfist?
Popping in briefly to say that while it's a terrible character name, Johnny Killblade is a fucking AWESOME band name.
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Damnit I meant to give it a more interesting filename, like "The GM hates you"

Oh well, ten minute 'fanart'. What can ya do.

Then we decide we need to do something about this guy: apparently most of the local fixers and runners hate him as much as we do, but don't want to fight him.

Not that I can blame them, he fucking cut a car in half and then threw half of it at the cops trying to get between him and killing us poor dishonorable thieves.

We start driving down the road, plotting to kill the guy, when suddenly the car's radio gets replaced by his gravelly voice, announcing that he was going to have to kill us for daring to think of ending his life.

Yeah, we're the bad guys here, not the insane badass stalking and trying to murder a bunch of nobodies for petty theft.

Anyway, we end up rolling the car and crashing into a rail-yard. Johnny Boy, miraculously unharmed from leaping off of a flipping car rolling at about 80, comes walking up on us, swords drawn.

Then he turns invisible.

At this point, we've met him three times, and me and Chazzy have already pulled out our 'terrible sue bingo' cards, and I just hit the jackpot.

At this point, we've decided to stop playing around with the ninja-cyborg-fuckyouguy. First the vamp uses his vampire powers to try and see him with heat-vision. No luck, he's got dampers on. I try my astral sight, he's got some sort of enchanted gear that hides him that.

Then Chazzy did the single greatest anti-ninja thing I've ever seen, and that I will love him for forever: he pulls out an RFID scanner and a bucket of paint.

Twix claims another victim.
How does one do a Bushido following street sammy 'right' without falling into the trappings of Weeaboo.

Because while it's not a character I'm playing, I am playing with the enemy perk and the Mercenary Code of Conduct, which has left my character with a melee focused street samurai who somehow didn't die when smacked in the face by a white phosphorus grenade.
...Why did you guys drive your bucket of paint around town?
They were looking for this guy. Chazzy likely picked it up on the probably chance that the guy was '2 ninju 4 u'.
Oh thank god! I thought it would be a bad ending.
>Then Chazzy did the single greatest anti-ninja thing I've ever seen, and that I will love him for forever: he pulls out an RFID scanner and a bucket of paint.

>Twix claims another victim.

Your mega-GMPC-sue was RONNIE'D!? Haha, that is RICH.

Since he didn't think to remove all the tags from his food, Chazzy uses this to get a guess at his location, and chucks the bucket of paint at him.

Now while this is a terrible tactic for most situations, it also serves as a great litmus test to see whether the wires are there to augment someone's skills, or make up for the fact that they have nothing.

You see, a smart man will simply step aside. The dumbass will do some overly dramatic thing like slice it to pieces to prove they're awesome.

Tac-suits don't work so well when they're covered in a bright pink paint, and without his invisibility bonuses he wasn't nearly enough for two kung-fu experts in a melee.

He tries to run away, but then Sunshine uses some sort of Vampire magic to teleport in front of him, and grab him.

Johnny asks him if he intends to die this evening.

"Bitch, I've been dead since before your smug ass was born."

And then Sunshine bit out his fucking throat.

This wasn't enough to kill him, so I used a stunning fist technique to paralyze him.

We figured he would probably break the stun before he bled to death, so Ten-Pin did the only logical thing he could: used mind control amplified through his mentor spirit to make him put on a frilly dress and prance in front of a train.

We, of course, filmed the incident, and put the trid up under 'West Coast Story' and everyone got to watch the death of hipster Batman to 'I feel pretty, oh so pretty~'

That was both witty and bright.

This is the point where the GM very calmly packed all of his stuff, flipped the table with the same cool expression, and I shit you not: moon-walked out of the store we were playing in at the time.

At this point one of the other regulars came over and offered to pick up where he left off, with a more lighthearted fun game.

Which was pretty ballin, even if it only lasted about four sessions, but that's a tale for another day.

I also just realized I already typed up Buster the Troll at some point, so I can post that too if you guys want. Be faster since it's Copy+paste.

Well, gotta admire him for keeping a cool enough head to moonwalk, I guess. Can't say he didn't at least fail with style.
Post it.

And honestly despite him putting that guy in the campaign, I respect his calm and his stylish way of exiting the situation.
Maybe that was GM's intention all along.

Actually, Sunshine's 'Girlfriend' wanted him to repaint the living room.

Since he was adverse to the sort of labor he could hire a migrant worker to do for cheap, he got the most eye-rape bubblegum pink he could find.


It's interesting to note that I've only ever seen three attempted table-flips.

Hilariously one involved two players on either side of the table tard-raging and trying to table flip at the same time.

The result of this was the table rising five feet in the air, and dropping right back where it was, contents barely disturbed.
Being That Guy as a performance art piece. Interesting.
Alright, here's Buster's tale:

Once upon a time, I decided to run a game of Shadowrun, and my friend Dave decided to play with us.

Because the rest of the group at the time were dicks, they let Dave die like 5 times in as many runs. In one case, they shot him for no reason at the end because splitting the reward five ways was easier than splitting it six.

So then Dave rolled Buster, a Troll in every sense of the word.

If irember correctly, no mental stat was higher than two, his edge was something like 12, he took max ratings in Gremlins, Judas, and Distinctive Style.

He was an adept speced for three things: Shooting, punching, and armory.

So the first run with the new group began. They were told to kill this one dude who was renting an office from a small Ares owned building in downtown Seattle. While everyone else was planning, Buster went to see a buddy of his who ran a bar just down the street from the hit.

The following occurred in game time.
I'll fill in the gaps with a story briefly.
Fuck you, guy

Now I have to learn Shadowrun?


I have severe, nigh-terminal Baskin Robbins syndrome, you fucker.

7:00PM Buster decides to perform the hit himself, to gain the rest of the team's respect. He tells his friend Dimsdale (guy who had the bar) to paint him purple, on the logic "You never see da purple trolls anywheres. Dat's cus dey dead sneaky."

The rest of the team gets into the truck they were using for transport and head to the office building.

7:05 The main team hits a Burger King on the way in, finalizing plans. Buster Walks like 'Haters gonna hate' the two blocks to the office building.

7:06 The main team is now about 4 blocks away. Buster walks right across the lobby and into the elevator. Security is so shocked by the purple troll that they don't think to stop him.

7:10 buster pulls the Bass case (classic, not guitar) and reveals his unholy gun for the first time. This thing would be hard to describe, But it's like if an Uzi fucked a panther was the idea here.

7:15 The main team pulls up outside, and someone thinks to ask "Where the hell is Buster, anyway?"

Buster has left the elevator and marched into his target's room. Then he opened fire.
Y'know, on thinking...

Wouldn't this get you PILES upon PILES of Street Cred? I mean, what fixer bar wouldn't spot you free drinks at this point?

I want a numerical value.

Get a copy of PACS. You can literally generate a solid character in less than five minutes. It gives you fairly decent builds in solid chunks.
It's worse, you poor thing.
Gear is bought with money from points.
And Shadowrun gear is...
>A 64 page book of tables from Arsenal, Augmentation, Street Magic, and Unwired

7:15:24 Enough high caliber HEAT rounds to take out a city master has just been pumped into a very surprised elf.

The party hears the gunfire and assumes that another group came for the same target, decide to lay low for the moment.

7:15:32 The alarms go off and Buster needs to get out.

Out the Window.

7:15:58 Buster hits the ground next to the Truck, soaking all falling damage from the five story fall by exploding edge dice like a motherfucker.

The rest of the team realize what just happened as Buster tries to climb on the back of the Truck. They take off, and Buster is forced to hold onto the bumper and get dragged.

7:22 Buster is dismissed from the team, and he goes to a bar in the Ork underground to cry about it into a large drink.

7:24 the Knight Errant police have followed the giant purple streak Buster left on the group all the way back to their haven.

7:25 Everyone but Buster is dead.

At this point it's revealed that Buster has both erased and Lucky maxed. Nobody knows who he is.

It was at this point everyone but Dave face-palmed at what we thought was a brilliantly executed Troll maneuver. Turns out, he was just dicking around. 15 TPKs later over three campaigns, Buster is still used as a threat.
>a city master
Oh, fuck me sideways.

64 pages?

Welp, there goes... a month.

>The Citymaster urban riot-control vehicle functions as a mobile command post, and forms the standard frame for Ares' Master series of Medium Transports. The Citymaster comes fully outfitted with Gas Enviroseal, 20 man-hours of Life support & a small turret.

It's basically the step between a armored car and an actual military tank: broadly speaking, it's the meanest car any runner's likely to get their hands on.
D-did bend always have this much of a grudge against Aztecs... it feels very... Un-Bend-like
Just weighing in on the lethality thing.

Early episode of burn notice:
Criminal: only 2 kinds of robberies.
Ones that leave witnesses.
And ones that succeed.

Also in the film HEAT. Once they had been witnessed killing a guy, they immediately switched to lethal tactics and killed the rest of the witnesses. This is despite them having face masks and everything else on the run was disposed of professionally.

These are where i take my cues from.
Our very green group needs some help, we don't quite know how we roll to see if your contact has access to requested items. Because I know our street sammy is in the market to pump up his muscle augs but we're lost as to how.
Any tips for a noob group (and noob GM) on running / playing shadowrun?

Be careful of Players who own the runners companion. As an amazing tool however, It leaves A LOT of room for 'super special snowflakes' which would often get your ass traced and slaughtered.
On the subject of runner's companion, a question for you fine gentlemen.

How would you stat up a SURGEd character (probably type III) to be spider-like in nature, and what do you think their lifespan as a runner would be before someone goes INSECT SPIRIT and sets them on fire?
>what do you think their lifespan as a runner would be before someone goes INSECT SPIRIT
I'd carry around some kind of SURGE certificate(fake or not), have good persuasion techniques and hope that mages are around to ID you. And try to cover your appearance as much as possible. You should be relatively fine if you follow the precautions.

Alright then. Though I was considering taking the metagenetic quality that gives him a constant negative background count--probably be a bad idea, all things considered? He's not gonna be awakened himself, but.

Also, is having a fake SIN for him that declares him to be Peter Parker grounds to be punched by the GM?
their is also some hate for players who plays the Troll Shamens of the Voodoo Tradition and plays it up exactly the way as you think. (Stupid W.O.W. babies.)

It actually came mostly as a surprise.

We got a little bit of it during the Bogota section of the Two-Times run, but hearing Bend's player suddenly sound off on Geppetto/Locke's player was kind of hilarious.
I honestly think I am playing with a mini-trout. Christ, this guy is going around to his "contacts" and asking them about macguffins straight up. He also thinks a little town in the sticks has a spy network. In the middle ages.
>probably be a bad idea, all things considered?
>Negative background count
>looks like a spider
>"No, really guys, NOT an insect spirit, I promise!"

He'll be sucking on fire and bullets faster than you can say "sudden Ares black team helidrop".

Well, the thing to remember is that there aren't any spider insect spirits.

Given that spiders... aren't insects.
Arachnid spirits?
Someone get to work on this!

Well, Arachnid spirits would probably just be normal spirits--possibly beast or guidance, depending on your specific interpretation of your tradition, or even task--considering that Spider is a mentor spirit archetype...
So I built an A.I.
Then I felt guilty about buying so many Agent/Drone Autosofts instead of spending karma on skills (4,000 nuyen for a rating 4 skill? Don't mind if I do buy a shitload!).
So now I'll never play him.

Rest with the angels, tiny paranoid A.I. drone pilot

Dude, don't feel guilty. As bad as AIs are, you'll still not be that amazing.
There is also that one Spider gang who are obsessed with killing bug spirits. Their initiation consists of communing with the mentor spirit of the gang (even if they are not Awakened iirc), and killing a bug spirit by themselves.
Sup /Shadowrunthreadonttg/

How does one implement the exchange in a good way? I have been very tempted to have a go at it with my players
Gonna GM a game tomorrow. First in what I hope will become a campaign. Starting cool with some polyclub homewrecking leading to a prostitute kidnapping, that will probably lead to some megacorporate shenanigans later on. Got an all-ork tech-oriented group.

Any advice for a 4th ed first time ? Both for me and my players. Like how do I let them know their possibilities regarding AR, VR and shit without being too heavy-handed on the hints ? Or, you know. General ideas.
Anything wrong with making a mage specializing in Shape [Materials] spells?

Using Shape Concrete to close doors and throw tarmac like beanbags sounds pretty awesome.
Start with the stuffer shack.
I'm talking out of my ass, but I suppose you could have the exchange as a use of edge.

e.x.: Players are being chased by go-gangers (or whatever the term is for a biker-gang, the name escapes me at moment).

>Mr. Exchange: I use a point of edge to use the Exchange
>GM: You see a man in a trench coat place a package in a trashcan next to a telephone pole. He hurries away into the shadows. As you pass the trashcan, a bomb goes off, knocking the pole down and blocking the bikers, buying you enough time to turn a corner or two and lose them.

Mind you, using it against a covert corp strike-team probably won't be as effective, something like
GM: You pass through a street and notice an unusually high number of people with cheap recording equipment. Part of the team chasing you breaks off to deal with the unwanted recordings.
They're still being chased, just by fewer people.

Again, talking out of my ass, but it might be worth making use of the exchange worth 2 edge points.
Having the spent edge being unrecoverable until the Exchange uses the player might be a balancing factor against relying on the exchange every mission.
Though that's a harsh burden to bear
Yo, check it, Quentin was the baddest Orc you never met. Straight out of Oakland, 5-1-0rcs, naww mean?

Q might have looked like an elf but check the fangs man, fangs don’t lie. That’s church. Everyone in Oakland new he was an Orc. Every true Orc recognized his Orcness. Real recognize real.

Quentin’s pop was a libertine. Couldn’t help but love that man. And Q’s momma couldn’t do shit. It was in the stars. Q’s momma’s one true. But there was no moss on that man, Papa was a rolling stone. Papa changed his ways though, settled in.

Momma had four kids in that first litter. Avery, the eldest was stillborn. Happens. Doctor’s feared the worst, until Josephine came out kicking and screaming, raising hell. Winsome followed all sunshine and big eyes. Then Angela. You never seen a brooding baby, but Angela was a brooding baby.

And then fours years later out came Q with his pointy ears, sylvan face, but he had those fangs. So he was an orc, feel? And Moms didn’t have a name picked out, but he was fifth. So, Quentin just like his pop-pops before him. But Papa couldn’t see his son was his blood. Papa didn’t understand the quickening. So that night he Mick Jaggered on out the picture, leaving a very heart broken, and very kid-laden Momma.

So, yo, Q’s in high school. Kid ran every court, played hoop like you wouldn’t believe. If it drove, he made it dance; if she talked, he made her sing. Bright, not scary smart, but bright. Loves physics, going to go to school, make something of himself. Gonna get loot. Cause Q knows he’s going to live long and can’t bear the thought of life without his moms and sisters. He needs that longevity therapy dough. That booty smell good dough. Yo, then mom dies.

Shit got real.

Now, Winsome, Josephine, and Angela hack like they cook—Soulfully. Girls were maintaining. Q was proud of ‘em. But he couldn’t wait around. He needed loot now.

So, Q ships off to Denver. Procure Ends. Strictly a wheel man. When the driving cap went on, You had 3 minutes to get in. When the cap went off you had three seconds to get out. His sisters made sure the loot always came correct. Q never shot a piece. Q didn’t even hold heat. Strictly a wheel man.

Minor makes. Q didn’t even know what all he was doing. Q didn’t care. He was stashing loot for the big op. Had his sisters clean that scrill. Fucking leet ass bitches, you feel me.

Then the Big Score happens. This dude Q had run a couple deals with on the up and up, and probably some grimey shit, too, yo, this dude says we need a wheel man for this China op. “One of our scientists daughters been abducted.” Daughters tug at Q’s heart strings hella hard. He’s got sisters. Family. I mean, that’s fam.

And this dude’s a Fixture. Boss Hog Player in the game. This is a shot at real dough.

So, Q calls up Tito, Miguel if you want his Christian, but he’s a jr, so Tito. Tito went full retard. Full cyber conversion. Got in to some ugly shit in Columbia. That’s a story for another time. But Tito was a down ass dude. Couple other minor players enter the story hear, but they’re small timers, don’t matter. Fat ass troll named Oscar. Hella nice, hella strong. HELLA dumb. The scientist, of course. Wants to see his daughter. That’s straight.

So they cop the jet to Shanghai. Drive out to an industrial park and await the drop in an armored car. Turret on top. Q don’t mind. He gets paid to drop. So, he gets the signal and dons his cap.

The package parachutes in. Q’s on the mark, makes a 270, Oscar hauls the girl in gentle as a breeze in the yay in April.

Choppers. Six of them. Two Lead, the other’s closing in a diamond. Tito mans the turrets. BLAP BLAP. One goes down. Second goes down. Chase is on. Q’s urging every last erg out that engine.

The next two heli’s come on. Q’s bobbing and weaving. Crossing, Inside out dribbles, behind the back. Q goes hard in the mother fucking paint. Damage free. Two more Birds go down. Wobble Wobble.

Then we let the suitcase out. Q can’t jive the same way, otherwise he might lose a passenger. Q’s never lost a dude. This ain’t how it’s going down. And a wheel gets blown out. Suitcase is out though. “Why the fuck are they leaving a suitcase,” Q wondered. Not his place though. Q’s about to get paid.

Plane’s engines kick in, Ramp goes down. Q holds it together. Tito comes down from the turret, everyone gets to the left side of the car. Yo, then that armored Van goes sideways on the Drivers side, skids on up the ramp, comes to a halt on the hinge. Ramp doors Close, All aboard.

And then as the ramp’s closing and Q’s doffing his cap having climbed out the armored transport. It all goes white. FUCKING NUKE. That suitcase was a fucking nuke. The last two birds get caught in the shockwave. Shockwave hits the plane. Plane clears. All aboard for Denver.

This is a nice ass private jet. Break out the Champagne. Q’s getting live. I’m just trying to party, homes. Tito’s acting funny, though. Not his usual quiet ass, introspective self. Naww, this is a different kind of quiet. Tito says, “Brother, that ain’t a daughter/ father reunion. That’s not her dad.” Lord Jesu, not this shit again, Tito. But, Tito keeps it up. So, Q slurps his scotch, wipes his two fangs. Yo, they small, but they fangs, Orc.

So, Q, man, Q thinks it’s time for the doctor to come correct. Q doesn’t get played. Quentin no-fucking-last-name-because-fuck-that-orc-I-am-an-orc does is not going to get played. Orc, please.

The doctor has no poker face. He doesn’t even stop prodding the girl, all of eleven maybe. Prolly younger. Q finds out that, yo, this ain’t even a girl. This a synth human. Vat grown. Genetic code carrying a fuckin magic cipher. How the fuck does that rate. This shit’s too heavy. Tito doesn’t do slavery. Q doesn’t run out on his dudes. So, Q takes the Dr’s piece and sees who’s on board. Pilot, Copilot, triplet stewardesses, the fat troll, the doctor, and the girl. Plus, Tito and himself, of course. Let’s worry about this later. Q sleeps on it.

Some hours later then the triplets go bananas. They’re talking. But they go hive mind. The first says a word, then the second, then the third, but they’re talking at full conversation speed. Yo it’s a message from the fixture. You did your job. Give me the girl. Usual bullshit. Fucking bitches are possessed. The fixture says as much. He controls the vertical, he controls the horizontal. Then they pass out. Nuh-Uh. Q doesn’t play possessed. Shoots all three. Finds the pilot and copilot. Sends them to the back of the plane. Takes the com himself.

Yo, they’re already past Oakland, but they can come down on the ruins of Highway 80, before Sactown. So Q lands it on the concrete. Skids again. Loses a wing. Lands it though. And that’s when shit gets real in the fucking Oak Tree wilds of Norcal. In that no-man’s land, between the Yay and Sac. And yo, Q doesn’t have a team of Warriors to help him get back to Coney Island. No dice. He’s got Tito, bad roads, probably cannibals, magic shit (Fuck magic shit), and no bars on his Nova Airwave.

So, that's where the first part ends.
I see.
Three dice.
One is a robbery with assaults. The other is mass murder. I WONDER WHICH BRINGS DOWN MORE HEAT.
No contact? SR20thA p. 312, Availability extended test, right at the beginning of the Gear chapter. Contact? refer to p.287 "swag" under contacts.
You. You have a gift. It may have hurt my brain to read, but it really brought out the flavor of the story. Thumbs up.
> Go to check /tg/, wonder if there's anything good on tonight.
> 40k, That Guy, eh, read it all befo-
> Wait. What is this, lurking in the depths?
> Suddenly, /tg/ was awesome.
I read it all in the accent.

Bravo, sir.

Also, Two-Dee, this is what I listen to to get pumped.

Used to be Radio Crash, but I listened to that a bit too much.

So Albuquerque in Shadowrun. Anything odd about it.

You're too kind.

It was definitely hard to stay in character, but I had an excellent crew of roleplayers. Serious bros.


Thanks man. I try.

I'll try to get a little more up tomorrow, or maybe tonight, if I get time.
So, I'm rolling up a character. UCAS Blackops mage, ork, on 'permanent vacation' after an op gone wrong. Not his fault, not his team's fault, intel fucked up really fucking bad. He got a new face, a new name, and is sent to seattle for RnR. They let him keep his armor and rifle after removing the tags from it. His CO ordered him to stay active to keep in practice and to keep from getting bored, as long as he doesn't hit UCAS targets.

Thoughts on armor, weapons, and qualities: Right now I have this for him:

Qualities: Magician (Egyptian), Mentor Spirit (Owl, fluffed as Thoth), Erased (10 point level), and Restricted Gear (Medium Milspec)

primary weapon: Ares HVBR with chameleon coating, electronic firing, itnernal silernce, imaging scope, sinlink, and thermal suppressor

Armor: Medium Milspec, rutheium polymer coating, rating-6 thermal damping, skinlink, chemical seal, internal air tank. Helmet with rating-6 commlink, rating-6 both custom OS, rating-6 common use programs, rating-4 agents, rating-6 black hammer, armor, stealth, exploit, sniffer, track, and attack programs, ruthenium polymer coating, nad rating-6 thermal damping.

Haven't really got much more on him yet. Probably light on spells for now--mostly a summoner mage.

I personally don't bother with skinnlinking my gun, wastes a modification slot. Instead it's easier to get a stealth RFID tag and the cyber safety implant (which doesn't cost essence btw), also, if you part with enough essence for cyber eyes you can have
1) Smartlink that can never be hacked
2) Sniper Spellcasting
3) A shit tonne of vision options to help in all scenarios
4) 0.5 essence leftover to spend on anything.

I was pondering going for some 'ware, but I'd rahter wait until I get magic 6, and given the amount of gear I'll want to have, plus contacts, other things, I don't think I'll be able to afford the 25 BP to get Magic 6 at chargen.
Have any of you ever bothered to make custom cyber suites for your players? If so, what were they I need Ideas
I know this is a bit late, but my chase scene song was, "What's Left of the Flag," by Flogging Molly.

Also, shadowbump.
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2.23 MB

>Flogging Molly
Maybe I'm mistaken, but I was under the impression that you needed BOTH Smartlink(what you can put in Cybereyes) and Smartgun(what you put in a gun, and what can be hacked without Skinlink) to gain the advantage(+2 dice).
I believe you to be correct.

You are correct. It's an incredibly useful tool IF you get an implanted smartlink (either in a cybereye or directly onto the retina. However I was typing under the opinion he would be able to spare a piece of magic. If he can't then some skinlink is more up his alley

Will a cybersafety get me Ronnie'd?

I have no idea what that means...
>Ronald the Runner got caught in the opening of Runner's Companion for not tag-erasing his underwear
A cybersafety is an RFID, isn't it?

It could happen as it states in the description that it's nothing more than a minor security chip. However, you could probably ship out some extra cash on the black market to get a stealth chip version that works on a very specific frequency
Ha! As soon as you said to play a song, I picked Yellow Line. Lo and behold you suggest that track a couple posts later. Guess it definitely fit the scene. Also, I laughed my ass off when you listed the speed for the car.
So I love Shadowrun stories. I think this RPG produces some of the best stories because it revolves around PC Plans. So I have 2 questions.

1) Does anyone know of any sites to read good Shadowrun stories? I've already read the CLUE files.

2) Are the novels any good?
Well, have you read the other threads in this series?

Also, the archive doesn't mention the non-2d stories here, and that's a shame.
Yeah I've been following the Shadowrun Storytimes from the start. Makes me want to run a Shadowrun game, though I doubt my players would be into it (plus I'm currently running Fantasy Craft).
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Yeah, if notables keep jumping into these threads in the future I'll have to make sure to tag them.


Dude, Redline is the shit. I created Wildcard's car as a deliberate homage to the movie, and then imagine my surprise when things came together to make that incredible insanity of a chase scene happen.
Lets say you were outfitting a Bust-a-move (random drone-doll-toy) drone as a Trojan-doll (and using a MicroWeave Spider to tailor different outfits for it).
Something to put out for the target's kid to find, take home, and have the drone do its business at night.
What would you outfit it with?

I'm guessing a Retrans Unit, Optical Tap, Telescoping limbs (to reach doorknobs), maybe a concealed chemical spraying nozzle in its mouth (Is there knock out gas? If so, that and/or Freeze Foam). Would a taser-paw (presuming a teddy-bear at this point) be overkill?
Spoof Chip because spoof chips are awesome
Self-destruct system?
What would you include in the tojan doll?
Depends what the target's wants/your mission reqs are, what the overmod penalties are...remember, it's Tiny. It has only ONE slot.
>Spoof Chip because spoof chips are awesome
Spoof chips are for cars to act like they're other cars...I'm not aware of another use.
Spoof chips "generate a new access ID for a vehicle node (or any device) on a regular basis,"

So they can be useful for drones too
4 slots

4 slots or body, whichever is higher.
Unless you don't believe in Vehicle/Drone transparency
Also note that, as written, *it doesn't come with grasping hands*.
Fair 'nough, though I'd think that that wouldn't be as useful off-road, where nodes are going to be at least a little more static in what's around.
Uh. Oops.
one last Shadowbump

Combat Spells AND an LMG? That's a severe degree of redundancy. Especially if Lava is a combined element spell, because the drain code would be +8 for an area version..

Ah well. It is just a background bit.

Hey, I'm rolling up a mage who's TECHNICALLY a combat mage (not really--his only combat spell is Stunball, but he's a military guy. Retired blackops.) and he uses a HVBR.
I think he was saying the combo of guns + combat spells is a silly one, not the combination of guns + magic period.

Does that count if you don't carry nonlethal ammo, so make up for it with Massed Sunballs?
If you have an LMG and milspec, who's going to geek you as The Mage, pre-emptively?
In my opinion no, Stunball is a pretty great spell.

Sorry but all I can hear there is 'My name is Micheal Westin, I used to be a Spy'

That is kinda how the character developed, yeah.

He's an Ork Egyptian Tradition Mage, 'retired' UCAS Blackops, with stealth armor, stealth gun, who's mentored by Thoth and has a collapsible egyptian priest-styled snake-headed staff.

I'm not sure if the CONCEPT is pink mohawk, but he'll be acting very black trenchcoat.

Thought this was fairly Shadowrun, if more 2e or 3e than 4.

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