Seattle Noir

[Lost Demiurge]

It's midnight in Seattle, and the moon's hiding her face behind a widow's veil of smog. The Emerald city glows green below, Augmented Reality rendering a coat of green flash to the better districts for those who can afford a decent commlink, and the 5 nuyen a month matrix hookup.

To visitors, it's impressive. Progressive. Massive. Not to mention other -ives. It's everything a modern urban sprawl could be... Arcologies next to corporate towers next to shopping centers that sell everything but honesty. Truth's a hard thing to find in this city... Truth lies somewhere else.

The Barrens now, that's a place to find certain kinds of truths. Hard truths, ugly truths. Truths everyone knows but no one speaks of... If you don't know, you'll sleep better for it. If you do know, it's depressing to dwell upon.

But one thing's certain: If you go eyes wide open into the Barrens, you will see the true form of the city, and you will know just why the moon hides her face as she does.


2400: REDMOND BARRENS - THE BANSHEE
The Banshee is a bar located to the west of glow city. It's a two-story windowless concrete block, with fading red neon letters proclaiming B NSH E BAR to the world. Red like ribbons, red like blood. The place is neutral ground to the gangers and scum that frequent it… There’s a few tags on the outside, but they’re meaningless. Punks out on their initiation, smaller gangs trying to impress, no one who knows really claims the Banshee as turf. There are less painful ways to turn your homeys into bloody jackets on the pavement.

The place actually has a pretty safe parking lot around it… Fenced with a double layer of monowire up top, and two parking lot snipers patrol on the roof, ensuring that any would-be jackers get to say hello to Mr. 50 calibre caseless.

Inside, the place reeks of Synthahol and the unwashed masses. There’s a weapons check by the door, with a surly orc in an armored cage sorting various guns into lockers. The bar’s armored and bullet-pocked, and the Amerind bartender looks like a vet… That’s probably not a real Sioux Wildcats tattoo on his arm, though. Probably. The tables are chipped and scarred Plaswood, and the cups are spyrofoam. There’s a few Halloweeners in one corner, their orange and black jackets grinning pumpkins and their voices loud and vulgar as they laugh and joke.

It’s a dive.

But this is where Mr. Johnson wanted to meet with you. There he is in the corner, a gray-haired man with featureless Czech surplus military cybereyes sucking on a nic-stick. A plume of smoke wafts up toward the ceiling as he takes the cig from his mouth and studies you. He’s got a few visible augs, most of them look to be obsolete to anyone with more than a cursory knowledge of cyberware. His face is lean and stiff… Probably some old injuries along the line.

He stubs the cig out on the table and glances toward the bar. “Two pitchers, Frank. Gonna be one of those nights.”

Welcome to Seattle Noir! First things first… Let’s get your characters introduced with a proper post. Four hours ago your fixer called you with work, and directed you to meet Mr. Johnson in the Banshee bar down in the Redmond Barrens. You were given a picture, and your fixer’s word that this guy was reliable. You can start anywhere you like, perhaps with a recap of how you got to the bar, or a writeup of the conversation with your fixer. Or you could just post your entry into the bar, and get straight to talking with Mr. Johnson Any of these approaches are good.

We’ll be using the spoiler tags to designate out of game conversation. I ask that you keep all OOC stuff within them. I also ask that in your first post you put up spoiler tags and tuck a link to your character sheet within them, for easy reference.

Now, on with the show…

[Ladorak]

This is just a stand in, will do sheet tomorrow.
Human Corleone Tradition Mage

Body 5
Agility 1
Reaction 3
Strength 1
Charisma 5
Intuition 4
Logic 3
Willpower 5
Edge 2
Magic 6
Essence 6
Initiative 8
245

Skills:
Assensing 2 (8)
Conjuring Skillgroup 4 (40)
Negotiation 2 (8)
Etiquette 1 (4)
Spellcasting 6 (24)
Ritual casting 2 (4)
Counterspelling 2 (12)

Knowledge Skills: 21
English 5 (Native: Italian)
Mafia Security/Tactics 2
Magic Background 4
Mafia Turf: 3
Mafia Politics: 2
Mafia Safe Houses: 2
Number Running: 4
Small Business 3

Positive qualities:
Magician 15
Mentor Spirit 5

Negative qualities:
Gremlins 2 10
Sensitive System 15
Incompetent (First Aid) 5

Spells:
Combat: Powerball, Manabolt
Detection: Analyze Truth, Mind Probe, Detect Enemies
Health: Heal, Increase Reflexes, Resist Pain
Illusion: Improved Invisibility, Stealth
Manipulation: Mana Barrier, Physical Barrier, Levitate, Control Thoughts
42

Gear:
Combat Counterspelling Focus 4 (20,000) (Fake License 3) 300
Fire Spirit Binding Focus 2 (20,000)
Banishing Focus 4 (20,000) (Fake License 3) 300
Powerball Fetish 200 (Fake License 5) 500
Heal Fetish 500
Ballistic Shield 1500 (Fake License 5) 500
Sony Emperor Commlink (2/3) 300
4 Certified Credsticks 100
Sun Glasses with Vision Enhancers: Low Light, Flare Compensation, Image Link, Thermographic, Vision Enhancement 3 375
Fake SIN 4 4000
Actioneer Business Clothes 1500
Armor Jacket 900
Gas Mask 100
2 applications of Glue Sprayer 300
84750/85000

Lifestyle: Middle, 1 month 5000

Contact: Mafia Capo Magi (Corleone Tradition ritual leader and Mafia Boss) (Connection 3 Loyalty 3

Corleone Tradition (Mafia Magical Martial Arts. Taught on the metaplane of Sicily)
Combat: Fire Spirit
Detection: Beasts Spirit
Health: Man Spirit
Illusion: Air Spirit
Manipulation: Earth Spirit
Resist Drain with Charisma plus Willpower

Godfather Mentor Spirit
Advantages: +2 dice for Combat spells, +2 dice for Negotiation tests
Disadvantages: If a Corleone magician breaks Omerta, whether by choice or by accident, he takes –1 die to all actions until he atones for his error.

Guliano Corleone's day had not begun well. For the first time in his life he was going to a business meeting wearing his armored jacket. He worn it all the time, but that wasn't the point. Certain standards were expected...
On occusion Guliano had heard more than one mafia boss joke that it was good to come to places like the Barrens to get away from the advertsing. Guliano wouldn't know. Why emerse oneself in brain-deadening 'entertainment' and 24 hour advertsiments? Guliano prefered to just click his fingers and people would bring him what he wanted. Until recently that had been a perfectly workable plan.

Now he's there. Until today Redmond Barrans had just been a word to Guliano. Now he knew why anybody sane was fleeing the area, which didn't encourage him about the Mr Johnson he sees as he enters the bar.

He takes off his sunglasses and blinks at Mr Johnson 'It's already one of those nights.'

[Devixer]

Arahi was sitting at a desk in his apartment when he got the call. taking a look at his AR version of caller ID, he saw that the call had come from his fixer, Joseph. Reluctantly, he decided to take the call.

"Arahi, how're you doing? I got a job for you, but you've gotta be ready tonight."

"Alright, what's the job?"

"Well, Johnson wouldn't tell me, but I can assure you he's legit."

"Big surprise. Well, just tell me when and where."

"Actually, there's one more thing. I know this will be new for you, Arahi, but Johnson demanded that you work with a team. He wouldn't accept you other wise."

Arahi swore in his mind. He'd still take the job, but he far preffered working alone so far. "Just tell me when and where, Joseph. I'll work out the details."

"Yeah, you always do. You're to meet Mr. Johnson at the Banshee Bar at midnight tonight." Joseph then hung up. He never was one for extending conversations. Luckily, Arahi wasn't that type either.

After waiting a few hours, Arahi got dressed in his "negotiation" outfit, a black, shortened trenchcoat over a grey long-sleeved shirt, as well as black dress pants, and his normal shoes. With that, he stepped out of his place, and over to his car. He checked if the trunk still had his possessions. Luckily, Lone Star hadn't figured him out yet, and he still had his weapons. Thinking about what the Banshee Bar might have for security, he only holstered his pistol and knife. He then got in his car, and drove to the meeting place.

He arrived fairly quickly, mostly because of midnight traffic. He was searched as he entered the bar, and his pistol was taken by an orc. Luckily, his knife remained. He headed over to the back corner, which was usually where Johnson was. And a few seconds later, he saw what could only be the man himself. Augmentations, all that smoke, the stiff face, it was obvious. Arahi made a brief, worldless greeting, then sat at the table.

Arahi Thompson (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=180716)

[Kinneus]

2200: KENSINGTON'S FLOPHOUSE
Eight-Stone groaned, rolling over and gradually waking up as he received an urgent signal from his commlink. He groped in the dark for his imagelink-enabled goggles and slipped them on, staring into the fuzzy visage of Mr. Twist's icon.

"Listen," Eight-Stone's fixer, Mr. Twist, said urgently, his voice clearly masked by some cheap voice modulator program. "I got work for you."

"Yeah?" Eight-Stone sat up on his mattress, clearly interested.

"Yeah. Kind of a big deal. I need to know I can trust you."

Eight-Stone rolled his eyes. "Where do I need to go, man?"

"Seriously. Don't screw me on this one, Eight-Stone."

"I won't screw you."

"You better not!"

"When have I ever...?"

"You better not screw me on this one, Stone!"

Eight-Stone stared icily in response, counting to ten silently in his head as he waited for Mr. Twist to work himself down from his paranoid frenzy. This tactic, as usual, failed completely.

"Oh, crap. Did you hear that? Did you feel that?" Twist's blurry image twitched as he began glancing around frantically.

Eight-Stone sighed. "No, man, look... the job?"

"Must be that technomancer I pissed off. Oh, man..." Mr. Twist said fearfully. "Look, we don't got a lot of time. Just meet Mr. Johnson at the Banshee Bar. Tonight."

"Okay."

"And Eight-Stone? One more thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you dare screw me over and sell me out to those technomancers, you hear me? I got ways and means, omae. Ways and means."

Eight-Stone shuddered as Mr. Twist mercifully severed the link. Eight-Stone sighed heavily as he dressed and gathered his things, trying to remember the shortest route to the Banshee. "I gotta get me a new fixer," he muttered to himself as he walked out the door. "One who isn't an idiot."

2400: REDMOND BARRENS- THE BANSHEE

Eight-Stone ducked under the doorway, pulling himself inside. He glanced around the bar, his eyes lingering on the Halloweeners for a moment. Eight-Stone had left all of his weaponry at Kensington's, and he felt a little naked without his shotgun, axe, and a fistful of grenades... but that wouldn't stop him from stomping some idiot Halloweeners if they treated the hulking troll with anything less than total respect.

Despite his massive size, the Banshee was very much Eight-Stone's sort of place... which, as Eight-Stone was accutely aware, did not say much for the mercenary's character. He had short dark hair, granite-gray horns, large brown eyes, and no visible 'ware. Armor jacket and forbidding size aside, Eight-Stone seemed to fit right in with the rest of the gangsters and losers.

After a moment, Eight-Stone spotted who he presumed must be Mr. Johnson, along with his soon-to-be teammates. He sat down as Mr. Johnson ordered two pitchers. Well, at least this job is starting out right.

http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=267916

[Overlord Rion]

2300: Edward's Place


Eddie sighed. While in the middle of a movie (because who slept these days?) Erin had called him. Very rarely did she call him at this time unless he was making her do something. Weary before answering the call, he answered with "No, I am not giving you relationship advice with Roland. You'll have to deal with the rolly polly bastard yourself."

"You know, those plates of armor and rolling up into a ball might be useful skills someday Eddie."

Figures. Roland was right beside Erin. Why did he set them up again? "Oh wonderful, you're there too. Please tell me you have good news."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Though you're going to need to get dressed fast and get down to the Banshee. You have a team. Sorry buddy, but nobody seems to be looking for somebody like you by himself."

"Peachy" He cut the connection and checked his closet. Didn't want to look too nice for this place. He slipped on his Armor Vest and a nice blue shirt with slacks. Looking like such a nice guy usually threw people off guard. He considered his weapon, but it was probably best to leave it in his car.

2400: The Banshee

It took Eddie all of ten seconds to recognize where the Johnson was sitting. Calmly, with a nod to the Ork doing weapon checks, Eddie sidled up and sat down. "Good evening. Has everyone arrived yet?

Edward G. Roivas (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=267263)

[Lost Demiurge]

A dwarf waitress who's seen a lot of hard living brings over two brimming pitchers of clear, reeking synthahol, and a stack of spyrofoam cups. The Johnson takes the stack without taking his eyes from the three approaching men, and lets the waitress top off his own cup.

He slides a cup over to each of you, and nods.

"I have not been in the game for a while. So I am a little rusty on the formalities. I will get straight to business." Now that he's been talking for a while, you can't help but notice there's a slight accent present. Euro?

"There is a girl. She is dead, and she should not be. I am concerned that it may be an old enemy or three of mine, and this is retribution for the past. That being the case, it could have been done to draw me out... So I cannot move directly. That is where you come in."

"I need you to find her killer, or killers. I need you to figure out why she died. If there is time and you have got enough of an advantage, bring them to me. If there is no time or you do no't have the opportunity for capture, then take revenge upon them sevenfold. Either way I will need some evidence."

"Each of you will get ten thousand nuyen for this job, one thousand of it up front. There is no time limit, but the more you waste, the more the trail is going to get cold."

"I have a file on her, and some possible leads. This file, by necessity goes into my background as well. The fee I am paying you includes your discretion... I am gonna have to trust you not to leak my information, and to keep secret that which is in here that concerns me."

"Do you wish to undertake this job, or shall I drink alone tonight?"

[Ladorak]

In answer Guliano sat down and reached for the pitcher You do not drink alone. This is an infamnia. I'll gladly kill these men for you.' He poured himself a drink and lifted it to salute Mr Johnson. After taking a drink he fought the urge to grimace 'But I understand you want to do it yourself, as well as ask some questions. If I can, I'll bring them to you.'

Negotiation to try and get the price up: [roll0][roll1][roll2][roll3][roll4][roll5][roll6][roll7][roll8]

[Ladorak]

Can't believe I did that, sorry.
[roll0][roll1][roll2][roll3][roll4][roll5][roll6][roll7][roll8]
4hits

[Kinneus]

"You won't drink alone, omae." Eight-Stone reached for his cup, taking what must've seemed like a dainty sip to him. "I'll even take your job, too."

Eight-Stone cracked a yellow-toothed grin at his own joke, but then swiftly grew serious. "What sort of information can you give us to start on?"

[Devixer]

Arahi pushed away the cup. He hated the taste of synthahol. "I'm just wondering why you need a team of shadowrunners for this job." He was also somewhat surprised at the job itself. Investigation? That certainly wasn't the work of a shadowrunner, and something about it seemed... off. "Why not hand it over to Lone Star?" Normally, he didn't question a job, but he felt that he needed more information.

[Overlord Rion]

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with these...gentlemen. This sounds like a simple murder case. If you're asking us, you're hiding something grand from Lone Star." Obviously Eddie wasn't the only cautious one in the group. That was good, very good. Having more than one careful person usually upped the chances of success.

If he took it that is.

I'm counting 9 rolls there Ladorak (You mind if I call you Laddie?) I thought you'd get seven?

EDIT: Nevermind, didn't notice the spirit thing. My bad.

[Lost Demiurge]

After a bit of dickering, the Johnson nods at Guliano. "Very well. Eleven thousand for successful completion of the job."

He pulls out a cheap, disposable comm and looks at Eight-Stone. "The information is on here. A list of people that I knew Hi-... That I knew had contact with the victim. Some of her past movements and involvements. Once everyone is in I will turn it over, along with the downpayment."

The Johnson frowns at Arahi and Eddie. "As I said, I might be able to handle this myself. But this could be a move to draw me out into the open. In which case I refuse to give her killers the satisfaction of ending me as well."

"Lone Star? Pfah. The murdered girl was Sinless. I am sinless. The murder happened in the Barrens. What the hell do those fools at Lone Star care about things that happen in here, to people that do not exist? I am not rich, I do not pay taxes for their protection, and I do not have friends to influence them. Even if I cared to bribe a detective, they would take too much time to get around to it, and they would find no one willing to talk to them."

"Does that answer your questions?"

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone smirked as one of his new teammates managed to eek out another thousand. I'm starting to like this guy already.

The massive troll lets out an amused snort at the mention of Lone Star. "Yeah," Eight-Stone adds, shaking his head, "this sort of thing isn't exactly Lone Star's top priority. I know lots of people that would sooner hire a team than ask Lone Star for help."

Eight-Stone took another drink, waiting for more objections. Personally, Eight-Stone was hungry for a job, and would be willing to take even a very suspicious one. But from his position at the bottom of the social ladder, there wasn't much that seemed suspicious about this. The Johnson's rationale and motives made sense, and if the man could pay, Eight-Stone would gladly grant him his revenge.

[Ladorak]

Guliano nodded solemnly and reached into his inside pocket to produce his own comm, he placed it down deliberately on the table. 'I'm in. He tossed four credsticks down on the table beside the comm. 'The Texans have no concept of revenge, better you leave this with a Sicilian.'

[Overlord Rion]

When you put it that way, you have a point. It's impossible to be too careful in this business. You understand, I'm sure. And for what it's worth, I'm in.

Eddie takes a quick look over his "teammates." Hopefully this wouldn't require too much muscle. Talking, yes, talking was good. If it came to a gun fight...he'd probably hide behind the troll.

[Devixer]

Arahi gave a slow nod. Lone Star suddenly became much less agreeable when you were SINless. He tended to forget about that. He still had the feeling that this job was more than an investigation, but he pushed it aside now. Eleven thousand nuyen was quite a lot. "In that case, I'm in, and you have my discretion on that file."

[Lost Demiurge]

The Johnson nods, his face bare of emotion. "Good." He slots the four credsticks, passing one to each runner at the table. "There is the thousand nuyen downpayment, to each of you." He pushes the cheap commlink over. "Details, and a secure contact line are within there. Once you have found the culprit and sufficient evidence, use the contact line to uplink the matrix. I will respond. Do NOT attempt to link that comm to the matrix before you are done. Do not attempt to find me unless the need is dire. I will come and find you and check on you in a few days for a status report, if it takes that long."

"Now I will let your review the file. If you have questions, ask once you are done please."
He leans back and starts on sythahol cup number six. It's pretty clear that one of the pitchers he ordered was for his own usage.

The file contains the following things:


-A picture of a girl, in her late teens, the timestamp reads 17 April 2071. (The current year.)
-A short bio of Brigitte Blanke, daughter of Heinrich and Maya Blanke. Born in 2052, delivered at a Docwagon clinic at 0852, 13 November. Home-schooled. Last registered residence: 2140 Bleeker Street, in Redmond. A few pictures of the girl in various stages of growth, childhood, and teenage life. Her father and mother are in a few of the pictures. The father is quite visible a younger version of your Johnson.
-A medical history of Brigitte Blanke... Including notes from various anonymous practitioners. After puberty, she was apparently implanted with several pieces of prototype bioware, mostly defensive in nature, if the names of some of the implants are anything to go on. Brigitte also had a severe allergy to pollen, and an inner ear condition that made air travel painful... According to surgeons notes the problem was somewhat corrected by implant A9-3425, but not entirely.
-A series of GPS coordinates, timestamped. Each is about a week apart. There look to be almost two years worth of coordinates in here, from 2069 to 2070.
-Pictures of two groups of gangers, each with teenage Brigitte in the picture somewhere. One group wears a white and black jacket with a wolfshead on it, the other group wears a silver and red jacket with a bloody metal demonshead on it.
-A picture of a pot-bellied man in a duster, a pair of revolvers crossed at his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. He's got his feet on a table, kicked back and is talking in a relaxed way to Brigitte, who seems puzzled. The background seems to be a lousy bar, worse even than the Banshee.
-A picture of a black van with a white chess piece logo (A castle) on the side. Brigitte is leaning up against the van next to a rolled down window, watching around her, talking with someone inside the van.
-Finally, a photo of a waterlogged corpse, bundled in canvas. Then the canvas cut away, revealing Brigitte's face. Attached to it is an Autopsy report from Doc Bob's Quikstitch Clinic, reporting death by spinal severance from a thin blade. No signs of struggle.

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone pauses at the medical history. Why would a young girl need such extensive defensive bioware? The troll puzzles this over for a moment, but decides to keep it to himself for now.

He also pauses at some of the pictures, mainly the ones featuring Brigitte hanging out with unsavory types like the gangers and the man in the cowboy hat. "Can you give us any insight on who these people in the pictures are? How did they know Brigitte?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Eight-Stone pauses at the medical history. Why would a young girl need such extensive defensive bioware? The troll puzzles this over for a moment, but decides to keep it to himself for now.

He also pauses at some of the pictures, mainly the ones featuring Brigitte hanging out with unsavory types like the gangers and the man in the cowboy hat. "Can you give us any insight on who these people in the pictures are? How did they know Brigitte?"

"The Winter Wolves were her first gang. I think they broke up. They were small potatoes as gangs go. Typical teenage drama drek."

"The Chrome Devils were the next ones. A bit edgier, a little more dangerous. Drugs, guns... She was active in them as late as last week."

"The man in the Cowboy hat is a runner. Used to have the name of "Marshall", but I do not know if he still uses that alias. We worked together once or twice, twenty years ago. I caught him speaking to Brigitte the once. I did not confront him. He should think that I am dead."

"I do not know whom she is speaking to in the van."

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone furrows his brow, trying to remember if he's heard of either the Winter Wolves or the Chrome Devils.

Knowledge Check: Intuition (2) + Street Gangs (3)=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2852083/ (5d6.hits(5) → [2,5,6,6,5] = (4)
)

If he doesn't know anything, Eight-Stone immediately sends a text to Claw, his former gang contact:

<<txt 2 Claw: hey claw. got a new job. you know anything about the Chrome Devils?>>

Eight-Stone won't even bother mentioning the Winter Wolves to Claw; they have a pansy gang name, and Eight-Stone's willing to take the Johnson's word that they were strictly small-time.


Afterward, Eight-Stone sent a text to his fixer, Mr. Twist.

<<txt 2 Twist: alright, i took the job, just like you asked. don't worry, no technomancers... just some kidnapped daughter revenge trip, or something. need to know: you know of any businesses, gangs, organizations that use a white chess castle as a logo? possibly something in the barrens? anything you can dig up on a shadowrunner named Marshall would be useful, too. the pay's good; thanks for waking me up for this one, twist>>

Once he was finished kissing up to his paranoid moron of a fixer, Eight-Stone returned his attention to the Johnson. "You said you have some leads. I remember you saying earlier that whoever did this was maybe trying to draw you out. You want to elaborate on that? Or do you have other theories?"

[Ladorak]

'I know who to ask about the gangers' He almost spat the word and his displeasure was clear in his voice 'Maybe the van symbol as well. I will ask the question when we are finished here.'
He waved his hand archily as he slipped the cred chips and comm away 'But I do not know who to ask about Marshall.'

[Lost Demiurge]

The Johnson glances around, and leans over his pitcher. His voice starts to rise. "Two things make me think I'm being targeted, that she's dead because of-" He takes a drink and continues. His voice goes back to a monotone. "Marshall is one of these things. When I knew him, he worked out of Texas, I have only known him to leave it when big money is on the line. Him showing up here, now, having worked with me in the past, talking to my daughter... Suspicious. Especially since he specializes in wetwork. Hell of a gunslinger. Might be able to take me, if that is his job here."

"The other thing is that after she turned up dead, a couple of my contacts noticed that somone's been poking around, looking for Brigitte's family. Mainly Matrix inquiries, and a little old-fashioned bribery and gossip. Whoever it is covered their tracks well there. All the queries that I could trace went back to obvious intermediaries. That trail's cold, but the fact that someone was looking in the first place after she died has implications."
Eight Stone Remembers...
Eight-Stone remembers a little bit about the Winter Wolves... They were a vigilante gang, wanted to clean up the Barrens. Kids with dreams... Their first couple of weeks out they ran afoul of the Night Haunters, a seriously scary gang with turf on the southern part of the Barrens. The Wolves wussed out and broke up quick... A few of the dumber or braver members didn't give up the colors. They were gone inside of a few days.

The Chrome Devils are up-and-comers. They're about as far from idealists as you can get. They deal drugs, the old-fashioned kind... No BTL's here, just chemicals. Their leader used to hang with the Ancients, but got kicked out or left or fled or something. They're an elf-and-human only gang, but they don't make a big noise about it, or be more racist than usual. They've got just enough troops to keep the predators off, just enough professionalism to move product, and just enough random violence potential to keep people from asking questions.

Eight-Stone also recalls he heard Claw talking about how the Devils got some nice guns and armor a few weeks back. Either they made a big sale or came into some serious hardware.

The Johnson looks over to Guliano. “The Marshall I knew wasn’t a quiet man. It’s one reason why he stayed in Texas, where he had connections in place to make sure he could get away with his work. Unless he’s changed he’s sloppy but smart, just lazy-"

The grey man throws up an arm as a spyrofoam mug bounces off his hand, sending cheap green synthahol spraying over the table. The group of Halloweeners are standing up from their table, the leader grinning and showing gap teeth. Rivets stick out from his head like his face was bolted onto his skull.

“Heard you talkin’ bout us old man! No one says that drek and walks away without payin’!”

The rest of them are chuckling, as they start to pull knives. Their faces tell the story. Bored, drunk, and hoping to get out of paying their tabs… And hey, a little blood from strangers, BONUS!

There’s a thump from the bar, as the bartender is no longer in view.

The kids are NOT all right.
Alright, welcome to trouble. Unless someone wants to try an alternate means of resolution, we’re probably going to see some combat here. Feel free to roll initiative, but don’t sweat the order. Just post actions, roll for them, and wait for others to do the same. I’ll sort out who goes when.

Feel free to make up terrain features as you like, or scenery to work with. There are no windows in this dive, just a bar against the back wall, a few doors to other rooms, and tables and chairs throughout.

There are six gangers total, one of whom’s the leader. About 3 of the other gangers are orcs, the rest are human. The leader looks to have a little cyber, it’s hard to say how much. None of them look to have guns. The leader’s barehanded but all of the rest look to be pulling switchblades.

The bartender is currently out of sight.

Questions?

[Kinneus]

As the gangers approach, Eight-Stone feels the familiar, crackling hum of his wired reflexes kicking on. Immediately after they finish speaking, Eight-Stone stands up and throws a massive fist at the nearest Halloweener as casually as if he were swatting a fly.

Initiative: Reaction (5) + Intuition (2) = http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854737/ (7d6.hits(5) → [2,2,5,5,2,2,3] = (2)
)
Attack: Unarmed Combat (2) + Agility (6) + Reach (1) = http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854729/ Ah! Utter crap! Spending a point of Edge to re-roll... that's just too embarassing for Eight-Stone to live down.
Reroll: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854731/ (9d6.hits(5) → [2,5,3,3,5,6,4,4,5] = (4)
)

If Eight-Stone connects, he uses his free action to wipe some blood from his knuckles and say, quietly and evenly: "Piss. Off."
Intimidation (3) + Charisma (2) = http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854739/ (5d6.hits(5) → [1,1,6,4,4] = (1)
)

[Overlord Rion]

Eddie finally decides to take a sip of his synthahol. Yep, it was crap. He sighs and turns towards the Halloweeners.

"My dear misguided..erm, people. I would like to recommend you depart from my sight. It's never pleasant to be beaten to death, and I would like to point out we have a troll on our side. If you want to survive the night, I suggest you run. Run as fast as you possibly can."

Having problems with the forum roller, so here

Intimidation Test (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854793/)

And here's Initiative (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2854794/)

[Ladorak]

Init: [roll0][roll1][roll2][roll3][roll4][roll5][roll6] 2 hits

Free action: Drop prone beneath the table
Complex action to cast powerball, force 4 (4 meter radius) (Spellcasting + Magic) [roll7][roll8][roll9][roll10][roll11][roll12][roll13][roll14][roll15][roll16][roll17][roll18] 5 hits

Drain (Using fetish to help resist. Will + Cha. DV 5) [roll19][roll20][roll21][roll22][roll23][roll24][roll25][roll26][roll27][roll28] 3 hits. Drain damage 1

Guliano sneered at the gangers with contempt, although this did not stop him ducking beneath the table as the troll wades in.
However, if the gangers took this for cowardess there were sadly mistaken as seconds later the Mafia Mage had focused enough energy into his fetish to release a powerful blast, which detonated amist them.

[Ladorak]

Sorry, I get two more dice on that DV, forgot my fetish.
[roll0][roll1]

[Devixer]

Arahi reviewed the files without a single word, taking every possible lead into account. One of the particular things that stood out was the weapon of choice in Brigettes's murder. A thin blade... perhaps monofilament? He'd have to talk to Christine about that. He'd also have to try and poke around about the Crimson Devils. Gang knowledge wasn't his specialty, but he'd make it work.

When the Halloweeners showed up, Arahi paid almost no attention. They were nothing compared to CorpSec, or even Lone Star. He stayed in place, although he did pull his knife from its sheath. If one of them came up, he'd stab them in the face. Nice and simple.

[Lost Demiurge]

The leader blurs into motion, some backalley cyber propelling him towards the Johnson. A spur slides from the ganger's wrist as he swipes at the old man. The old man is suddenly standing and three steps out of reach, a faint wind from his passing washing over Arahi.

Then Eight-Stone's fist meets the gang leader's face. Due to his own cyber, he can see teeth fly out in slow motion... It's not a knockout blow, but it's enough to spin the kid around and almost send him to the ground. He takes three steps back, looks to his boys...

The powerball detonates among the rising gangers, blowing their table to bits and sending most of them flying. One solitary orc holds his ground, and he lowers the arm shielding his head to find shards of the table driven through it, and blood dripping down in the sudden silence.

The Halloweeners are mostly groaning and trying to pull themselves up from the ground. The leader and the orc who made it through the powerball look at each other... And Eddie's words break through the silence.

They take his advice. The two standing beat feet, and the ones on the ground who can move at the minute are trying to pull themselves up and get away.

The bartender comes up again with a pair of Roomsweepers, and sighs. "eighty nuyen for the table an' chairs, then alla you get outta here." He's obviously used to this kind of situation.

Unless anyone else wants to continue, we'll end combat here.

[Ladorak]

Guliano slid out from beneath the table and walked toward the barman, slowly reaching into his pocket 'Signore I have no idea who did this to your tables.' he pulls out one of his credsticks and throws it down on the bar 'I have 150 nuyen that says you never saw who did this.' He slips his sunglasses on and leans on the bar 'But signore, should I find you told someone you did see the people who did this... Next time no one will be paying for damages.' He smiled in a friendly manner and stood quietly as the amount was debited from his credstick and then left without a further word. Money only just earnt... The saddest money to spend.

[Lost Demiurge]

The bartender fails to look impressed at the implied threat, but the shotguns disappear about as fast as the credstick does. "Have a nice fraggin' night." He says, as he disappears into a door behind the bar.

At the guncheck, the Johnson claims an Ingram SMG and a tricked out pistol. He nods toward Guliano. "I would not have minded paying damages, but I thank you for taking care of it." The featureless eyes study the other three runners. "I think I have made the right choice with this team."
In the parking lot, the retreating forms of the Halloweeners can be seen in the distance. The Johnson ignores them as he lights another nicstick, and takes a drag. "I think our business is about done. Do you have any last questions or things we must discuss?"

And Eight-Stone's commlink beeps.

Eight-Stone's Text


At first glance, the text message recieved looks like gobbledygook. Then after a few reads, it looks like someone tried to code it and gave up halfway through. Finally, at the bottom of the text there's a brief message. Eight-Stone realizes the paranoid writing style of his fixer.

Request for info recieved, will start looking. Swear to god if I find T@knose in this am holding u responsible.

[Ladorak]

Guliano waves Johnson off 'I always pay my debts Johnson.' He holds his hand up over his chest 'And your dept is now mine. We will find who did this.' After a pause he says, fairly sheepishly 'Can anyone give me a lift back to civilisation?'

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone continued rubbing his knuckles as the fight ended and the bartender appeared with his shotguns. Eight-Stone personally thought two shotguns was a bit gratuitous... but he wasn't about to argue with the man.

Eight-Stone read his text as he walked with the group outside, then rolled his eyes. Once outside, he focused on the Johnson. "Just one... how should we contact you once we find the ones responsible?"

[Devixer]

Arahi gave a side glance to the bartender and his shotguns. Giving nothing but a cool nod, he got up and headed towards the door. He reclaimed his modifed Fichetti (though the modifications didn't go beyond a silencer and the engraving "Shadow" on the grip.) Once outside, he gave a short look at the Halloweeners. In response to Johnson, he just said, "I have no questions."

[Lost Demiurge]

Eight-Stone continued rubbing his knuckles as the fight ended and the bartender appeared with his shotguns. Eight-Stone personally fight two shotguns was a bit gratituitious... but he wasn't about to argue.

Eight-Stone read his text as he walked with the group outside, then rolled his eyes. Once outside, he focused on the Johnson. "Just one... how should we contact you once we find the ones responsible?"

The Johnson reaches out a gloved finger and taps the cheap commlink that he handed over. "As I said earlier, there is a secure contact line within that commlink. The commlink is not currently linked to the Matrix. When you wish to use the line, link the commlink to the matrix. The number will unseal at that time. Do not give me a call before you either have results, or are certain that you cannot find results."

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone nods, trying to pay more attention this time.

Eight-Stone doesn't really have any more questions, but he isn't really sure where to start, either. He glances at the others expectantly.

[Ladorak]

'We can begin our investigations once we're away from this... place. Redmond has more gangs then any other part of Seattle.'

Ok, so I'm off to see my godfather. If Marshall's a noisy type he might have heard something. Also ask him about the logo and the gangers

[Lost Demiurge]

The Johnson nods one final time. "All right. This will not be easy, but I think that if you keep at it things will fall into place. If nothing else, then you will make enough noise and attract attention."

He looks away, toward the glittering lights in the distance. "Goodbye." With that, he moves to a Harley Scorpion, kicks it on, and rides out of the lot, into the night and gone.

Okay. We'll take this next part relatively quickly. Eight-Stone and Guliano are hitting up contacts for info. What do Arahi and Eddie want to do?

[Overlord Rion]

Eddie takes a quick stock of his options. He wracks his brain to see if he can find anything about a runner named Marshall. Eddie was in a fairly good mood, so he decided to give his new friend a lift. Always nice to have some firepower.
"You need a lift? You can go ahead and hop in. Just consider this as owing me a small favor."

Roll for Knowledge ofShadowrunners
[roll0]

[Lost Demiurge]

Eddie takes a quick stock of his options. He wracks his brain to see if he can find anything about a runner named Marshall. Eddie was in a fairly good mood, so he decided to give his new friend a lift. Always nice to have some firepower.
"You need a lift? You can go ahead and hop in. Just consider this as owing me a small favor."

Roll for Knowledge ofShadowrunners
[roll0]

Eddie doesn't recall hearing about any local shadowrunners using the alias of Marshall. Which means that Marshall either can't have been in Seattle long, or he's running quiet, or both.

[Lost Demiurge]

Okay, since we've got a pause in posting, time to jump ahead a bit to try and stir things up.

Eddie and Guliano
Guliano directs Eddie to a a nice part of Snohomish. It takes the better part of an hour and change to navigate the highways and back groads, but eventually the car pulls up in front of a three-story mansion with an iron fence surrounding spacious grounds. There are woods around it, and while the place isn't new and the paint looks to be peeling here and there, it looks like somebody's put some work into keeping it in relatively good shape.

The comm box crackles to life when Guliano pushes it, and after a quick chat the gate slides open with a rusty creak. "You know the way," the guard on the other end says.

After parking and a quick trip through some faded and cluttered rooms, Guliano and Eddie find themselves in an attached greenhouse, where a small, thin, bald man with white hair trims a few saplings. As you approach he puts down the shears, and wipes his gloved hands on his gardener's apron. "My boy," He says, in a somewhat breathless voice, reminescent of disease or lung damage. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He gives a nod to Eddie, face revealing no reaction to a stranger's presence.

Eight-Stone and Arahi
About half an hour later, Eight-Stone's commlink beeps with an incoming text.

"Kwikkee Mart that we've used before. Wear a red hat. Sending a runner with the intel, wearing a green hat. Trade for credstick 150nuyen. DELETE THIS MESSAGE NOW!!!!!!!"

[Ladorak]

He smiled fondly 'Godfather, as always the pleasure is mine.' He glanced at Eddie Senior Corleone stood at my christening.' Then his attention returned to the old man even as he raised his hand to indicate Eddie 'Godfather, this is Eddie. He is a new business partner of mine.' He put his hand to his heart and bowed slightly to the old man 'We come seeking help. I know your old friends might be able to tell me a thing or two about these gangers' Once again he all but spat the word ' The Winter Wolves and the Chrome Devils. Also a Shadowrunner called Marshall has come to my attention, fresh out of Texas apparently. Finally, there is this...' He took out his comm and set it to display the picture of the van 'Do you know this emblem?'

[Lost Demiurge]

The godfather laughs, a phlegmy sound that turns into a few muffled coughs. "Just a few questions, mmm? Well, come. Let us discuss this over food."
It's roughly 2 AM in the morning, but he seems full of energy as he leads the two of you into a fairly well-maintained dining room. After a few minutes of small talk, a butler brings in a datapad and a tray of vegetables and canapes. Some very good, very tart wine is poured into glasses and set around the table.

The godfather removes his gardening gloves and takes the datapad, examining it with rheumy eyes. After a minute he pulls a pair of spectacles from his pocket, and studies the pad through them.

He looks back up.

"About the winter wolves, we know nothing. Gangs come and gangs go. The Chrome Devils... The famiglia has done business with them before. They are drug dealers, lead by a man who foolishly takes the name Baphomet." He makes a sign to ward off evil. "A foolish young man, as the Devils apparently hijacked a shipment of Aztechnology chemicals that was passing through the Barrens, last week. The stugats at Aztechnology have put a Bounty on Baphomet's head. His gang is hiding, and many are missing. The Aztechnology men are keeping it quiet, but it is a guarantee that any Devils they catch will die badly."

"This van... It bears the mark of the Chessmen, a minor syndicate that delivers things and obtains things throughout the Barrens. Things like food, medicine, bullets. Never anything complicated. Much like fixers, for the impoverished. They occasionally hire gangers and Barrens scum for favors, and subcontract them out."

"This man, this Marshall... A man like this turned up at cousin Giovanni's place not long ago. He was trying to find a man name Krieger. Offered a few thousand nuyen and a number to call, if anyone had word of Krieger. This number I give to you now."
The godfather falls silent, lifting a glass of wine to soothe his throat.

"It is a convoluted thing you have come into, my boy. These elements seem separate to me, at first glance. But here you are asking about them together. Does any of this seem likely to impact our business?"

[Ladorak]

Guliano looks very like a shark as he smiles at his Godfather's last comment. Perfect white teeth set in a predator's grimace as he replies 'Your business for now, Godfather.' He taps his fingernail against the table with a steady rythum as he thinks things through 'I doubt any of this will affect your business, a vendetta has been issued and we seek the girl's killer.
'However, in this thing of ours, nothing is certain. I shall of course notify you if I become aware of anything I think might be useful to you. As for me... I think this number will be most useful Godfather, most useful indeed...'

[Lost Demiurge]

The predator's grimace is met with a quiet smile.

Many people have underestimated the man behind that smile. Many people lie in graves in the woods nearby.

"I am always happy that one of my boys has what he needs to take care of business. I trust you to act in our interests. You both take care now, and it was good to meet you." The last is said to Eddie, with a minor nod of the head and a slight toast from the wine glass in the godfather's hand.

[Ladorak]

We really need an OOC... We're done with my contact right? Really like my godfather btw :smallsmile:

[Lost Demiurge]

Yep, we're done with your contact.

I'm waiting for one of the other three to join in. Cutting people some slack because of the winter storm from hell, but I hope people start posting sooner or later.

[Devixer]

Damn, this really slipped my mind. I'm sorry for neglecting this topic, real life and all that.

Arahi thought about his options for a little bit. It seemed that the others had plans for getting info. He decided that it would be prudent to search for information that wasn't already being searched for. Knowing this, he decided first to contact his fixer. Arahi sent the man a text, which said as follows:

Joseph, Arahi. Took the job, got a couple of requests. I'm pretty sure you already know about a gang called the Chrome Devils. I'd like you to see if they have any rivals in Seattle.

Second. One of the interesting tidbits of this job is a runner. Went by Marshall in the past, we don't know if he goes by that now. Need you to look around for him, if you can.

After that, he recalled the autopsy. Then remembering who he needed to talk to, he sent another text to Christine Adams, his arms dealer. It said:

Hey Christine, it's Arahi. Sorry, don't need any bullets yet, but I have a favor I'd like to ask you of. I just took a job - murder investigation, if you can imagine that. I was given an autopsy, which stated that the victim's cause of death was complete spine severance, with no struggle. I'm thinking that might mean a monofilament blade. Can you let me know if you've sold anything like that, or if you've heard of weapons like that being shipped? Thanks.

After he sent these, he approached his vehicle, giving no of farewell. Just because he was in a team, doesn't mean he had to like it. Arahi got in the car, started it, and began to exit the parking lot in favor of his apartment.

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone sighed and dutifully deleted the message. He began the long walk to the usual meeting place Mr. Twist indicated. Along the way, he picked a crumpled bag of Breakfast-Flavored Soy Nuggets out of a recycling bin, upturned it to flush out the last few crumbs, and then stuck it unceremoniously on one of his stunted, greyish horns.

Hey, the text said to wear a red hat, but Eight-Stone wasn't about to spend good nuyen just to satisfy Twist's messed-up spy sim fashion requirements. Besides, anyone that wanted to make fun of his new 'hat' was welcome to try. That brush with the Halloweeners got Eight-Stone all riled, and smart mouths always had the most punchable teeth.

Some passersby stared for a moment at the shiny red plastic glinting on Eight-Stone's horns, but none dared to say anything. A troll with trash on his head was still a troll, after all.

Along the way, Eight-Stone decided to keep his new teammates informed. <<text 2 team: i know we just met but this sounds like a complicated case. let's keep each other in the loop. going after a lead on the 'runner; know a bit about the gangers but if you can dig up more info, that'd be great. no clue on the other stuff. meet later 2nite to share what we've got, yeah?>>

Sorry I haven't posted lately. Lost power in Snowmageddon, briefly. Back and stable now, though.

[Overlord Rion]

Normally Eddie would have waited in the car, but his curiosity got the better of him. Again. When the godfather motioned towards him, he bowed slightly as a show of respect.

At least they had a lead now. That was always good. On the way out his equipment decided to beep at him. He couldn't help but frown at Eight-Stone's message. Not because he had to meet up, but because of the presence of 2s. Yes, he was a bit of a grammar Nazi.

But Eddie didn't want to piss off his meat shield team mate that could punch his head off, so he replied.

<<Text to ES: Sounds like a decent idea. I've got an idea for a place, but I'm open to suggestions.>>

[Lost Demiurge]

Arahi
After an uneventful drive, Arahi arrives in his apartment. After an hour or two relaxing, he gets replies to his messages.

(From Joseph): The Chrome Devils have a feud going on with the reclaimers, an organ-harvesting gang that usually sticks to Downtown. They're on relatively good terms with everyone else, tend to provide party favors and joy juice to other gangs.

Someone's got it in for them, though. They've been quiet the last week, holed up in Redmond in the old Greengrove mall. Everytime a group tries to leave, they don't make it far before guys in unmarked black vans show up and blow them to bits. Wonder how that group in the mall's doing for food right now?

Re: Marshall - Heard of him. Thought he mainly worked Texas? You need to hire a seriously good gunslinger? Will start looking around, if he's available I'll find him.
(From Christine): There's a ton of mono-blade types out there, hun. Got the autopsy file? If you send it through I can compare it to my database, see if any stats match up. Of course, if it's a messy wound then there's no chance in hell, but we'll see.

Eight-Stone
Eight-Stone's familiar with stares, so the extra ones he draws from his "hat" aren't uncomfy. The Kwikee mart is typical of its ilk... Small, stuffed with cheap foodlike products, and manned by people who don't give a damn. If you can't afford Stuffer Shack quality food, go to Kwikee Mart. If you can't afford Kwikee Mart quality food, you're probably living in a sewer and hunting devil rats for dinner.

After a few minutes roll by, the green-hatted dwarven urchin in the corner finally works up the gumption to offer Eight-Stone a disposable datapad. He takes the credstick and scampers. The guy behind the counter doesn't seem to care, eyes glazed in that special way that suggests long-term BTL use.

(The Pad Reads): Never heard of this Marshall character, IF THAT REALLY IS HIS NAME.

Castle logo... Rings a bell. Barrens workers, like drug dealers only for medicine and food and bullets and suchlike. Got to have a hidden angle. Probably stolen goods being distributed, but little enough profit. Conspiracy? Could be putting sterilizing compounds in the food. Or securing underclass loyalties for eventual REVOLUTION!!!! Gangs don't like Chessmen much, but Chessmen retaliate tenfold for any attack done to them. So gangs let it pass, so long as they toe the line.

Doing a lot of good, for folks who need it in the Barrens. GOT to be an angle.

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone frowned at the datapad. It didn't seem to be particularly helpful info. The Chessmen were news to him; they seemed like decent enough people, Mr. Twist's universal, baseless paranoia notwithstanding. Still, true altruism was rare in the Barrens, and Eight-Stone wouldn't be surprised if they had some ulterior motives. For now, though, they didn't seem like the most likely suspects.

No, the likely culprits, in Eight-Stone's mind at least, were probably that sketchy 'runner and the Chrome Devils. Eight-Stone had no idea what their motives might be, but they seemed to at least have the means and the street cred to pull it off.

Deciding to keep the datapad on hand for now, Eight-Stone left the Kwikee Mart and began to wander the streets as he often did when he wanted to think. Eight-Stone made it about two blocks before he thought to remove the soy nugget wrapper from his head. Tossing it aside, he then sent a quick text back to Eddie: <<text 2 Eddie: whatever meeting place you have in mind is likely better than whatever i could scrape together. just let me know when and where, omae.>>

[Lost Demiurge]

Alright. You folks have got a good amount of info, and have quite thoroughly hit up your contacts.

I'll sit back here, and let you discuss things with your teammates. Unless you need me for something, now's a good time to RP and figure out what to do next.

[Ladorak]

(In text format. It's so werid none of us have the implanted commlinks...)Message to Edward, Eight Stone and Arahi: I think I have gathered all the information I will be able to gather. Await your word as to meeting place and time in order to discuss further.

[Devixer]

Arahi considered Christine's message. He didn't have the autopsy file itself, but he knew that someone else in the team did. So, he went and sent another message. Another team member has the file; it's a hard copy, for some reason. I'll get it to you as soon as possible, alright?

Then he received a message from one of his new teammates, Eight-Stone. He cringed at the format of the words. The guy couldn't take an extra half-second to type a full word? Oh well. He sent a message to his team. I have all the info I can get. Just need a meeting place.

[Kinneus]

I'll just keep details on the 'meeting place' vague until Eddie's player chimes in with where we're all meeting.

Eight-Stone heads to the appointed place at the designated time and shares the contents of the disposable datapad with everyone who cares to read it. "So turns out my guy didn't have any info on the runner, but told me all about these Chessmen. They don't strike me as the likeliest suspects, but I could be wrong."

"The gangs this kid was running with... the Winter Wolves and the Chrome Devils. I know a bit about them. The Winter Wolves are nothing. Vigilante wannabe kids that got shut down - hard - by the Night Haunters. They're extinct, as far as I know. Doubt they had anything to do with this."

"The Chrome Devils, though... they're up-and-comers. Deal in drugs, but no BTLs, for whatever reason. Conduct themselves with a modicum of professionalism. They could've done this; they're more or less capable of it, at least. But I'm not sure why they would."

Eight-Stone leaned against a wall and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Afraid that's really all I got. Personally, I think we should speak to the Chessmen first. They seem pretty non-threatening. If they act sketchy, then we can investigate them. If they seem innocent, then maybe one remembers our young victim, or knows more about the happenings in the Barrens. They might be willing to help us out, out of the kindness of their hearts or whatever, if that really is their game." Eight-Stone sounds highly doubtful of that last part, and shrugs again.

"Just my thoughts. But what did you all dig up?"

[Ladorak]

Guliano snorted slightly as Eight-Stone spoke of the Chrome Devils' professionalism, but he let the troll finish before he replied 'The Devils may have been up and comers, but that status has come to an abrupt end. They highjacked the property of Aztechnology. In all the world Damien Knight is the only man I know of who could do such a thing and live. This could well be why the girl died, if so we must send our apologies to Johnson... Vendetta is vendetta but Aztechnology is suicide.'

The olive skinned Sicilian leaned back and lit a cigarette, after he had blown three perfect smoke rings he continued 'But I think it unlikely. To kill the girl is perfectly in keeping with Aztechnology, but dumping her body seems... more messy than I'd expect. They may be into wet work and blood magic to a disturbing degree but they'd never let the public know it. Still, we should look to contacting any of the Devils who remain to verify that.' He took another long drag and continued as he leaned forward to flick the ash 'As for the Chessmen... What I am told of the organisation sounds benign, back that does not mean they have not employed an individual more insidious.' He grins broadly, once again Eddie sees those shark's teeth and the deadly lack of emotion in his eyes 'But Marshall... Here I can be of much more help. I have his number friends, and a pretence to lead him to ambush.'

[Overlord Rion]

Not long ago, Eddie had sent out a message to the rest of the team. the message read:

<<All right everyone, it's about time we met up and discussed everything. Enclosed is the address of a certain club. Head in there and ask for Victor. He'll be the bald guy with a bad Russian accent. Once he shows up just mention my name and he'll direct you to a nice quiet spot. He already knows you're coming.>>

INSERT CLUB NAME HERE

Eddie leaned back in his chair, fiddling with his commlink and taking down all the info the group had, just in case anyone forgot.

It looks to me like our options are check out the Chessmen, find one of the Devils, or go after Marshall. I suppose if we really wanted we could split up and do two of those, but not all three. I'm for ambushing Marshall personally. We found out he's looking for a guy named Krieger. The Chessmen won't be going anywhere, but we don't have a clue how long Marshall's in town for, or even how long he's been here."

Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back farther until his chair was on two legs. "Well, there's my two nuyen."


I had trouble coming up with a name for the place so I left it vague. Any ideas?

[Lost Demiurge]

Well, Dante's Inferno in Downtown Seattle is a traditional meeting spot. It's got 9 levels of partying, music, AR effects, a hellish theme, and some very secure, very discrete rooms on the bottom layer for meetings with Johnsons and other shady types.

Alternatively, a club called INSERT CLUB NAME HERE tickles my fancy. :)

[Ladorak]

There's a 'No Sign Wine Bar' in my town. The irony being, of course, that's what it says on the sign. *Rolls eyes*

'Krieger is Johnson, I am guessing. Incidently now we have a name it wouldn't hurt to background the guy a little, I like to know who I'm working with.' Guliano Corleone worked for no man, save his Godfather. 'I'd rather not pickup Marshall right away. We have to take him alive and I've heard enough about the man to know that won't be easy. I say we start with the Devils, while there's any Devils left to start with. Anyone got any leads on that?'

[Kinneus]

Eight-Stone shrugs. "I got some ganger friends. Could call around for a Chrome Devil pusher's contact info, ask for a bottle of zen or something... and then, you know. We ask." Eight-Stone lets the implications of troll diplomacy hang in the air a moment.

[Overlord Rion]

Since I've decided Victor has an awesome sense of humor, the club is now named "INSERT CLUB NAME HERE"

"All right, how's this: first we'll try to find one of the Devils. If that's a no go, then we prepare to ambush Marshall. Or we could talk to him, if only to lull him into a false sense of superiority. There aren't a lot of old runners, so we would need every advantage we could get. Meanwhile, I'm gonna see if an old buddy of mine can't find something on Krieger. If we know more about him, it'll be easier to convince Marshall we know something."

Eddie throws a text to Roland <<To Roland: Evening Roland, hope I'm not interrupting anything. As you probably already guessed I have work for you to do. See if you can find anything on a guy named Krieger. If it helps he's got something to do with a runner named Marshall. Oh, and remind me later to get you a box of doughnuts for this.>>

Eddie looks up from his commlink. "Got somebody looking on Krieger and his relation to Marshall. Anything else? Otherwise we need info on a Devil."

[Devixer]

Arahi looked at the rest of his team while they discussed their strategies. At the point where they considered finding some of the Chrome Devils, he decided to give his own input. "They're in the Greengrove mall up in Redmond. It'll be hard to get to them, though. When they try to leave, people in black vans show up and shoot them to bits. I think if we want to find one of the Devils, that's our best bet, if we can find a way in."

[Kinneus]

"Should we try and see if I can get a dealer, first? Seems interrogating one or two wound be a lot cleaner than trying to storm them on their home turf." Figuring that there's no harm in at least asking, Eight-Stone goes ahead and sends a text to Claw without waiting for a response from his team.

<<txt 2 Claw: hey claw. know any chrome devils you don't like? i need to stock up for a party, and i'm not sure i'll be payin>>

[Lost Demiurge]

"Should we try and see if I can get a dealer, first? Seems interrogating one or two wound be a lot cleaner than trying to storm them on their home turf." Figuring that there's no harm in at least asking, Eight-Stone goes ahead and sends a text to Claw without waiting for a response from his team.

<<txt 2 Claw: hey claw. know any chrome devils you don't like? i need to stock up for a party, and i'm not sure i'll be payin>>

Eddie gets a text back from Roland. Krieger. That's an old name. Used to be a runner back a decade or two ago. I wasn't that deep in the business then, so I don't know exact details. I do know that there's a sizeable bounty on his head, from a guy named Brackhaus. You know what THAT means.

The name Marshall doesn't ring a bell.

Want me to follow up on either of these?


Eight-Stone gets a text back from Claw. Chrome Devils? They're walking dead, just not quite there yet. Pissed off the WRONG people. You really want to jack some up they're holed up in some ruins down south. Have fun and let me know if you need more bullets after.

[Lost Demiurge]

Alright. You have come to the limits of what legwork can do for you. You've found clues and a couple of options on where to go to get answers.

Were this another game I'd make some suggestions in the interest of getting people posting again, but this is Shadowrun. Some degree of player direction and motivation is required. You WILL need to put your hands on the wheel now and then, and this is one of those times. Pick a direction and go, please.

If no one can do that, then this game might as well be dead. So what's it to be? :smallsmile:

[Ladorak]

I have a plan, I'm just waiting for eddie and 8-stone to tell me what they found out so Guliano can come up with it.

[Overlord Rion]

Ach, sorry, internet trouble.


Eddie clears his throat. It appears Krieger is an old runner who now has a bounty on his head. Marshall is probably after the bounty. Krieger seems...elusive to say the least. Let's make some deals with the devil boys."

He glances at Eight-Stone. "All in favor?"

[Ladorak]

The Sicilian tapped his fingernail against the tabletop as he thought, unconsciously mimicking the habit of his godfather. He consciously tried to think like his godfather, the old man was wily and as sharp as they come 'I've got a better idea... Maybe. Devils have to be pretty desperate right now and the chessmen seem to be a outlet for the desperate. This suits our needs. If 8-Stone makes the contact via comm and offers to have food delivered in lieu of payment proper I expect they'll bite. Meanwhile we'll have the opportunity to scope the Chessmen. Best of all, when the chessmen make the delivery we'll know wherever it's safe or not to approach the Devils, best find out by proxy before Aztechnology takes exception to our enquires...
'Who's offering the bounty?'

[Lost Demiurge]

Last-chance bump. We've got folks that haven't responded in almost a week.

Who's still here, and what are you waiting on?

[Ladorak]

Obviously I'm still here

[Devixer]

Ach... sorry, work gets in the way of internets.

Arahi had been considering this new information. The Chessmen were awfully convenient for their needs. "It's in our best intererest to try and find the Chessmen, I believe. If we are going to deliver food to the Devils, I don't want to do the delivery myself. Not if Aztechnology might be encountered."

[Lost Demiurge]

Alright. Two of four are in approval of finding the Chessmen, so we'll skip to that.

It takes the better part of the morning to track down a white van, with the chess symbol on it. This one's of a bishop.

It's parked in a dead end street, with the back doors open and two orcs in white jackets doing business with several barrens dwellers over a beat up card table. Looks like mostly a barter system, as guns, old chips, and odds and ends are changing hands. One of the orks looks up as you pull closer, and nudges his buddy. The 5-6 people around the table find somewhere else to be, leaving you looking at the Chessmen over a card table with bags of soy and bottles of pills adorning it.

The one on the left loosens his Predator in its holster. The woman next to him gives you a slow nod. One of her tusks has been replaced by silvery metal.

[Ladorak]

Guliano masked his disdain by pointedly ignoring the large and intimating pistol pointed vaguely in his direction. Nobody does business properly anymore. Not even the Mafia. He spread his hands wide in meaning of friendship (Under false pretence of course).'Apologies for interrupting your game. I won't waste your time and come straight to the point. I asked around because there's some people who really need some help, although I fear it's too little too late at this point. He shrugged 'But what can we do? We have to try.
'As I said I asked around and a lot of people told me the same thing. Ask for the Chessmen. Or more precisely one in particular. A couple of people I really trust told me to ask for someone with a white rook on their van. I don't suppose...?' He let his sentence go unfinished, but yet the question still hung in the air.

[Lost Demiurge]

The male orc glowers at you suspiciously, the female eases up a bit, and eyes each of you as she replies. "You dressed a little nicer than the folks we normally help. But hey, we do what we can. Someone need food? Antibac? Bullets?"

She shrugs.

"Now if you lookin' for Rooks crew specifically, then they about 6 miles south, mos' days. We cover North Redmond, they got the South."

[Ladorak]

Guliano smiled, faking flattery 'Thank you, this is my favorite jacket. We have a friend who has a daughter, nice girl but rather wayward.' He shrugged again, letting his hands fall to his sides 'You know how the young are, we were all young once. Anyway... She got involved in a gang and this gang apparently got involved with someone they shouldn't have. Now they're fighting for their lives.
'They're holed up in some ruins down south. She's no fighter. All we're asking is food transport, I'm not asking you to risk your lives in a rescue.
'Could you put me in touch with... Mr Rook was it?'

[Lost Demiurge]

Hey Ladorak, gimme an etiquette roll for Guliano, please.

The woman frowns. "We don't get up in gangs business. They do their stuff, we do our stuff. That's how it shakes out. Be a lot of risk..."

[Ladorak]

[roll0][roll1][roll2]][roll3][roll4][roll5]

[Lost Demiurge]

The woman considers for a long moment, then puffs her cheeks in a sigh.

"You wanna talk with Rook, chummer, that could maybe get done. We ain't gonna move without his sayso anyhow. Course time is money and ain't nothin' free. Donate to our cause and we'll eem you a when an' a where."

The male orc moves his hand away from his gun, and pulls out a battered comm, clicking it to the RECIEVE PAYMENT setting.

[Overlord Rion]

Eddie decides to step in. Guliano had already paid some money earlier. Now it was Eddie's turn. The comm would indicate they had received about 200 Nuyen.

"I believe that will be sufficient, no?" Eddie hadn't been saying much, perfectly content to let Guliano take the speaking initiative.

[Lost Demiurge]

The man nods to the woman, and she looks satisfied. "All right. Got your comm number now too, so once we get things set up you'll get a call."

With that, they start packing things back into the van. Looks like they're getting ready to move on.

[Lost Demiurge]

No one stops them as the two orcs pile into the van and it drives off.

About an hour later, Eddie gets a call. No video, the voice is male and easygoing.

"Alright, you have my attention. Fourth Street and Payne warehouse, one hour. See you there."

[Ladorak]

Guliano smiled quietly at the two chessmen until they moved away. It vanished in the very instant he turned his back on them however. 'Not quite according to plan, but good enough.' He drops his voice lower as they set out on the open street again 'Next order of business is the gangers. We'll contact them and tell them food's on the way, but only if we talk to the girl. They should tell us everything we want to know without ever needing to ask.' He smiled quietly, but this time there was a genuine grim humour in his eyes.

Sorry, you ninjaed me LD. Still I'd like to get this bit over with before we move onto Rook, although I am very curious about him now.

[Lost Demiurge]

Alright. So who's calling, then?

[Overlord Rion]

Well, Eddie hadn't done much work so far on this job, so he figured he should start pulling his weight. He dialed the number and motioned for Guliano to get in the car.

[Lost Demiurge]

Oddly enough, Eddie's getting no connection. Either something's happened to the number, or it's in a place without matrix access, or it's being jammed...

[Ladorak]

Guliano swore at great length and varying eloquence in Italian 'Of course Aztecnology doesn't want them talking to anyone. Foolish of me. Let's see...' He tapped his fingernail against the dashboard as wheels turned within his mind 'We'll go to the meeting with Rook and ask him to deliver personally to the girl and only the girl. Once he asks we'll show him and his crew a picture of her, not the autopsy of course, we have to play this dumb, or at least ignorant. When we do that all of us must watch all of them very very carefully. One of them knew her and his face will betray him.'

[Lost Demiurge]

You arrive at the corner of fourth street and Payne, around the middle of the Barrens. No one lives out here if they can help it... Ghouls come out at night.

The warehouse is fortified, with a razorwire topped fence around it, but the gate is open. A group of about four Chessmen watches you approach from the defunct loading dock, waving your car towards them. No one else is in sight. The Chessmen are armed with AK-97s, and are a mix of humans and orcs.

[Ladorak]

Guliano once again made approuch making it obvious he was unarmed. For once he was not annoyed by the guns. This was a warzone after all, certain allowances had to be made 'Hello. We're looking for Rook, we've an appointment of sorts...?' He let the question dangle

[Lost Demiurge]

Alright. We're well past the posting rate, and one player's gone entirely and has been for quite a while. I think we're done.

Some of this is my fault, and I apologize. Take care, and I wish you luck in future games...

[Ladorak]

Not your fault, although still disappointed :smallfrown: Told you Shadowrun games on this forum are cursed...