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Leech

Monsters, mayhem and monkey business

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Okay, legal stuff:

 

I am using the Shadowrun 3rd Edition, owned by WhizKidz and produced by Fantasy Productions (FanPro), rules in their entirety. The only modification I have made is a slight tweak to initiative in order to give a better feel for the sheer speed possible in the Sixth World.

 

All posts are considered IC, and are also in the present tense and third person. Out of character posts should be indicated at the beginning and end of the post (or paragraph/segment).

 

Players will be expected to post their actions by a given deadline, at which post I will collate them, make any dice rolls needed and post what happens. Players will only be asked to make Damage Resistance Tests, and this will be done privately via PM.

 

Players are welcome to use PM and/or e-mail for co-ordinating their actions and/or discus matters with the GM.

 

And with that, the fabric of time warps and we are deposited in the Sixth World, circa 2062.

 

==========================

 

It's raining in the Seatle-Tacoma Metroplex, and it's turned an otherwise pleasant evening into a roman bath, without the heat.

 

Downtown Seatle is fairly crowded, but no more so than this time on most Fridays. The bustling throng on the streets is full of the neuvue-riche coming and going from the high class bars and restaurants in this part of the Sprawl.

 

On a less well travelled road just off the heavily beaten track is a small doorway. The sidewalk is crowded with cars, motorbikes and other vehicles belonging to the patrons of the bar which is accessable via the doorway. And standing there, in his everpresent spot at the right of the door, is the massive frame of a Troll.

 

This Troll is different though. His attire is almost grungy and ordinary looking, a stark contrast to the 'glad rags' worn by the throngs of people on the main thoroughfares and the steady but small stream of people exiting and entering the doorway he guards. His movements are purposeful and confident, and the glint in his eyes is that of a ever watchful parent watching over his children.

 

As you approach the doorway where the Troll is standing, you notice that his run of the mill armoured jacket (you'd recognise them anywhere, having seen enough in your time) has a bulge under the left arm.

 

"So he's armed." You think to yourself. "That's nothing out of the ordinary these days, in fact it's wise."

 

As you walk past he puts out his massive arm, blocking your way. "And where to you think you're going?" He asks around his tusks.

 

"I have an appointment with The Colonel." You respond, having been warned about the Troll's challenges that afternoon. "He's expecting me."

 

"Then please, do not keep him waiting." He says, his arm snaking back to his side. He then smiles and wishes you on your way.

 

Through the door is a corridor which leads down a set of steps. The walls are stylishly decorated with paitnings on the walls and a sign pointing down the stairs.

 

At the bottom of the stairs is a booth. Behind the clearly bullet resistant window is a very attractive young Elven girl. She's got a cash register and a credstick reader nearby and on the wall beside the booth is a list of prices. She looks up at you as you approach.

 

"18 nuyen tonight". She says as she notices you approach. "Tanya's performing." She says by way of an explaination.

 

"I've an appointment with The Colonel." You respond, slightly mystified. No-one mentioned paying to get in.

 

"Very well." She says as she looks at you. She nods after a few seconds. Then she smiles again. "Please hand any weapons in at the counter before you enter the main floor. Our weapons policies are on the wall to your left."

 

Stepping left down the corridor, you see the notice. It has a list of weapons, both bladed and non-bladed melee weapons and firearms as well as combat cyberware, which are prohibited. It also has instructions for declaring them. However, there is no mention of what would happen should you not declare or check any of the weapons mentioned. "That's different."

 

Standing behind the counter is an attractive Human girl, about the same age as the Elf behind the counter. She smiles as you hand over any weapons (and declare any combat cyberware) and then gives you a claim check. "Hand that in when you leave. They're safe in here with me. And don't forget the cuffs, cos they'll hurt like a #### is you try to use those implants with them on."

 

To your right, again along the corridor, is a large double door. Underneath the door you can see bright disco lights and there's a dull bass tone coming through the oddly thick doors.

 

As you step through, your senses are assaulted by an 90's style nightclub. Around the edges of the room are booths that look like they can seat 6 people. There's a dance floor in the middle and tables and chairs in the space between. To your right is the bar. Behind the bar are another two gorgeous girls, again one Elven and one Human, who seem to be serving drinks and collecting compliments from the patrons.

 

Shaking your head, you move towards the bar, until your path is blocked by a large Ork in a tuxedo. "The Colonel is expecting you." He says as you look to the booth at the end of the bar. "Please order a drink and then join him."

 

The Elven barmaid serves you with a smile, and you walk over to the booth the Ork indicated.

 

"Good evening chummer." Says the man, looking up as you approach his table. "Please join me."

 

Once you're seated the man hands you a business card. "I'm The Colonel. I hear you're looking for some work, the exciting and well paid kind." You nod as you take a sip of your drink. "Good. I mainly cater to corporate clients, but some more 'particular' clients also come my way from time to time. I try very hard to pass runners work which I believe fits their skills sets. Afterall, a run which the team aren't suited for is a risk, both to them, the Johnson and myself. So, what are your particular talents?"

 

The man, dressed in a tres chic business suit and black leather fingerless gloves, listens intently as you tell him some of your past running history. He asks a few questions as you go, and then smiles when you're finished.

 

"I think I can accomodate you. I'll phone you when I have something." He then nods to the rest of the club. "This is my club, the Divebomber, Seatle's best 20th Century Jazz club. I run my 'operations' from here, and any given night you're sure to find some of my other 'aquaintences' enjoying the music, the ambiance or just the safe haven my club provides. Please, feel free to mingle with your fellow runners. Who knows, you may learn something." Just as you're about to slide out of the booth, he puts his hand on your forearm. "A couple of quick guidelines. Drinks ain't free no more, but Sally and Amy will cut the price a little. Entry will remain free, and Todd will watch your wheels if you bring them. And I don't allow violence in my establishment. If someone starts it, you're welcome to help 'restrain' them, within reason, but anyone who does start a fight will be barred for life." He smiles as you nod your understanding. "So, please enjoy yourself. I'll ring should I find anything which suits your particular talents. Have a good evening."

 

You move away from The Colonel's booth and back over to the bar to get a refill. As you look around, you see several others who are dressed in functional street garb like you are as well as the plethora of regular patrons who are oblivious to the other activities which go in inside the Divebomber. You make your way over to a group of 'runners' who look like they could be 'your kind of people'.

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The young elf passes her weapons to the claimcheck girl with an amused little smile.  So paranoid these days. Ah well.  When instructed to make her order and see the colonel.  She orders a neon sake and listens to the man's words, silent still, observeing her 'chummers' to be as much as she lets the man go over the usual forplay for a job like this.

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Grater nods to the troll as he lets her pass into the club. Goddamn Seattle, just once could you have some decent weather. All I want is a week with no acid rain, no choking smog, and not having to watch the Star peel the latest suit who couldn't take his life off the sidewalk.

 

Her gloomy thoughts preoccupy her so much that she doesn't even make an effort to flirt with the gun check girl, instead she hands over her weapons mechanically and procedes to the meet. There the orc sits down to watch her new teammates.

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With the gauntlet of the entry past, the knives and gun are easy to leave behind.  They ruined the flow of his nice clothing anyway.  It's not often he feels the desire to dress up.  It will be worth it, a job opportunity and Tanya, live music is always a happy event.  

 

Fingering one of his three medallions John listens to the Colonel.  John "Two Dogs" likes the smell of this arrangement.  The corp is no place to earn a living.  It is best to be SINless and clean.  It helped the karma flow.

 

Sipping his tequila sunrise he moves into the crowd.  Business must be balanced with fun.  That too is the flow of Karma.  John moves to join a small group perhaps one of them will dance.  That orc looks gloomy she might be cheered up by the magic of moving to music. (?)  Or if not the elven woman perhaps. (?)

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Sakura looks at her two companions so far, nodding to the dwar and the amerind (hopeing I got that right)  and then back to the 'Colonel'  "That's quite intresting, chummer... so you have a job for us personally, or...."  She smiles sweetly, turning on that elvish charm (heh).

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The Colonel studies the face of the Elven runner sat across the table from him. He pauses for a few seconds to think then smiles.

 

"I've learned the hard way that thrusting people together and expecting them to perform well is a bad idea." He pauses to take a sip of his drink, which from the look and smell is a bourbon, "but I have done it a few times and had it work out. But I'd rather not do that."

 

The Colonel is interrupted by Toby (the tux'd Ork) with a message on a piece of paper which he reads and then hands back. He then turns back to his 'guest'.

 

"As I was saying, I'd rather not thrust you and some random, well not quite random, runners together just for fun." He explains. "But, as luck would have it, I have a couple of runners on my books who might suit you well. And a job which I think may suit you and these others is also on the horizon."

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Thought's of dancing and music are thrust aside.  "A job Colonel?" queries Two Dogs politely.  

 

He thinks that it might be time to grab a bite to eat if there is a job in the offing.

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Sakura leans back in her seat and sips her neon sake.  She smiles. "What kind of work do you have in mind?"

 

Internally she hopes he doesn't say 'a milk run' because she doesn't ahve that kind of heavy gear yet...

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"Ah, Two Dogs." Says the Colonel as he spots the shaman enter eavesdropping distance. He then smiles and looks back to his first guest. "I can't be too specific because I don't have many details myself, but suffices to say it's shaping up to be a simple and straightforward smash and grab."

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"A game of fetch," says Two Dogs with a smile and sips his drink.  He is thinking that he has his medicine, as he touches his vest of pockets, what more could he need.

 

And he's hungry...."Would any of you care for something to eat, I was going to pick up something from the bar.  A bag of spicy krill wafers perhaps?"

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Looks at the shaman with an amused smile. "How about a pouch of squid jerky instead?"  Then back to the John- er 'Colonel'  "Smash and grab.  Where did you have in mind, my friend?"

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As the colonel is about to continue, a dwarf walks up to the table and proptly sits down. "Oi! whatid I miss? I was a little held up, the chumm out front wouldn't let me bring me pea shooter in here

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Two Dogs will glide to the bar and pick up some basic snack food, squid jerky, krill wafers, Andy Capp's Hot Fries, peanuts whatever is available and quickly return to the table.  Hoping not to have missed anything but already willing to trust his new pack of chummers.

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(OOC)The Colonel is your fixer, and it should be noted I run fixers a tad different to others. Basically, the way it'll work is you meet the Colonel, he'll give you some basic info then you meet the Johnson and sort out the details and then do what comes naturally :o) (/OOC)

 

"All I know is that the perspective Johnson, or his intermediary, whichever I've been dealing with, smells like Corp. Aside from that I don't know."

 

The Colonel looks up as the brash Dwarf comes over. "Ah, Syd. Welcome." He then listens to the Dwarf's explaination and smiles. "This place is a haven for runners. Since it's also my place of business and I run shadow operations from here 'on the side' I prefer to remove temptation as much as possible. While you're here, you're safe. But I do expect people to be unarmed as much as possible." (OOC) If anyone is wearing anti-combat cyberware cuffs he'll nod in your direction(/OOC). "That way, any trouble is of a level which is less dangerous to the wageslaves and sararimen who come in here for a spot of Jazz and some ambiance." He then looks at Syd. "What's your poison Syd? You're the only one without a drink, and that just won't do."

 

The Colonel smiles his most disarming smile (OOC)Which is quite disarming and not too un-handsome(/OOC) and waves over Sally (the Human barmaid) to take any further orders for drinks.

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