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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Understandable
That sucks. I can sympathize. Get better quick!
Posted on 2008-12-01 at 15:06:00.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Ouch!
Get feeling better quick!
Posted on 2008-12-01 at 15:04:30.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Nice posts indeed.
I've brought it up further in the timeline now. It looks like all that need to post are Sui, Raven, YeOlde, and Drakar as Croaker's character is dead and Freeway has vanished.
I've plans to continue with those characters who survive (a new adventure) and those players who wish to continue will have the opportunity to make new characters. I'll also be updating the character sheets and rules set to FUZION for the next adventure.
Posted on 2008-11-30 at 22:25:33.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Rejoining the Others
New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:51pm
The decision had been made. Frankie knew that Guardian would go along with whatever he’d decide, and eventually, the money and a way to finalize this fiasco resulted in Scribe accepting Javier’s offer upon his return. What resulted at that point was the pair being loaded up in an AV-4 and airlifted into the storm with Javier back in his trench coat and glasses as well as four additional soldiers. Scribe wasn’t allowed to put his camera back on, but that didn’t keep him from mentally keeping notes on everything that was happening.
The ride was more than a little bumpy with the winds buffeting the boxy vessel and the rain sweeping the windows, but when four more AVs joined the flight, Frankie glanced over at Guardian with a slight smile on his handsome face.
“I thought the whole idea was to keep you folks off Biotechnica’s radar,” Scribe chuckled as a particularly heavy updraft jolted the AV with force.
Javier returned the smile, “We just won’t be on any of the cameras. You’ll have to collect the data, but our little distraction will hopefully keep their security detail involved.”
“Fair enough,” Scribe took a deep breath and returned to peering out the window as the mountains sped by beneath them.
The compound swept up on them without warning. The pilot announced their arrival and the AV’s began their sweep, noseguns blaring. The buildings received the brunt of the assault, but the outside patrols weren’t neglected. Within all too short a time, the AV that Scribe, Guardian, and Javier settled in the compound with a huge flare of evaporating rain and a number of small tornados.
“Good luck, gentlemen,” Javier said as the side door swept open, one of the black-garbed soldiers manning the mounted railgun as the front door to building swept open and Biotechnica guards began to present themselves. The railgun made short work of them, its high-powered rounds tearing apart the doorway and the men in one wicked sweep.
DigitalScribe looked to Guardian for the lead…after all, he was the fighting man.
Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10pm
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
There was a momentary lapse in gunfire resonated almost as loudly as the alarms in Firewind’s ears.
“GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” MDK’s unfamiliar voice called out, “WHILE YOU STILL CAN!”
Risking glancing over his shoulder, the medtech caught Lightning coming back down the hall towards him. “MDK is the only one left alive over there he thinks we should try to escape and that kind of makes me think that he is going to try to hold them back as long as he can still move.”
“Damn!” Firewind had liked Peacekeeper, and he hated leaving anyone behind. “What about Croaker?”
Lightning kept moving, rounding the corner with his weapon ready, and drawing Firewind with him. There was no answer concerning Croaker, and the medtech didn’t like the odds of two non-combatants rushing through a heavily guarded facility, but he followed nonetheless. His mind was reeling. This was exactly how he’d expected it to go down, so he was confused as to why he wasn’t accepting it.
Reaching the stair door, the islander kept the elevator room covered as Lightning opened the door Freeway had escaped through. Certain that the elevators weren’t in motion, Keahi turned and followed the techie through to the stairs.
The first flight was empty, but as they rounded the landing ready to make their way up the second, they were startled by the sight of four corporate guard bodies lying in pools of their own blood, and the booted footprint made from blood indicating the passage of someone heading up.
“Freeway,” Keahi breathed. The nomad had made it this far at least. That left them with another two flights of stairs to reach the main floor. The medtech hoped that should they find anymore guards along the way they were in the same condition.
MDK turned back from the corner as soon as Lightning vanished from sight, and went about searching the guard over with his left hand while keeping his weapon ready in his right. He was disappointed in finding no grenades, and the handguns were inferior to his own. The only thing of value that he found was a keycard, and seeing how these guards were suits he could safely figure they had higher access levels than the standard security types.
Rolling away from the corpse, MDK rose to his feet and began to dart down the hall, weapons ready. He might’ve passed it by had he not taken the motion that he did and rolled out of the alcove. The room number of the room where they’d dropped the third guard was the room where Croaker was supposedly located.
It was an abrupt change in momentum that took MDK’s right shoulder and put it into the doorframe. His electrothermal .44 pointed into the room, the Arasaka handgun down the hall towards the corner, Mae quickly took in the empty room. There wasn’t even a bed in the room, just emptiness.
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:09am
Posted on 2008-11-30 at 22:16:07.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Delayed answers. Sorry folks...Holidays, you know?
OK, Sui, first you: If I've misinterpreted Shiften's intentions in life, my apologies. Your description kind of turned me towards the idea that he was opposed to politics, and kinda a Robin Hood. So, I figured that this new politician appears and Shiften would decide to "introduce" himself. He's not exactly rich either, so a little extra pocket cash won't necessarily hurt.
I've created a map for you. It is uploaded here: Manor House Map
Each square is ten meters.There are three guard patrols, as indicated by the three different colored lines. The small purple route takes about five minutes to complete. The larger green route takes about fifteen minutes, and the largest, red route takes about thirty minutes. The similarity between Shiften's cloak and the guard's cloaks is too noticeable to allow him to blend in, plus there are a limited number of guards per patrol group, and adding one to the number would definitely be noticeable. The lowest part of the balcony is twenty feet from the ground, but the rail is another four feet high, so a total of twenty-four feet to achieve the balcony. The whole face of the building on the balcony side is black--there are no lights on in that part of the building. There's a lot of stone reliefs, and some decorative pillars...it would be a hard climb, maybe a DC of 20. The snow cover is about two feet deep, except in the trail made by the various guards. To move silently in this snow would require a Stealth check DC 30, and you'd move one quarter your normal MOVE.
Blammm: Sanya would know who all of these people are, but she's not a favorite amongst the politicians as she holds real power through her magic as well as her council position. The High Speaker and his circle of friends are especially stand-offish and have been known to suggest that she uses magic to further her political ends, so they advise people to steer clear of her. Sanya has obviously never heard of the High Speaker's cousin, and has had little to do with the other people Cyeen has mentioned except in passing.
Her position in the city would not be considered among the highest of the politicians, but she is certainly not among the lowest either. The council often finds reasons to send her out of the city on business (thus the Bayris trip) both because she is effective in her work, and because they are uncomfortable with her power.
YeOlde: That forty would be miles, and you travel roughly 24 miles in a day of hard marching. In weather...well, you might achieve 18 to 20. From the location Sna'kti saw on the map it will take him between two and a half and three days to achieve the cave area. There's also half a dozen villages between Portua and the cave area, as well as Visden if he wants to head there first and then move along the coast.
Vanadia: What's the direction Caterina is going to take after she's spent an adequate amount of time in prayer, watching over Ethain's body? The servants won't be returning until late in the evening, but Caterina doesn't maintain a priest at the manor, so no one is likely to enter the chapel without invitation, though they may start looking about the manor once they see the blood on the stairs and the mess in the study. I'd just like to advance you a bit further and need to know what you'd like to do.
If you need some help with ideas, Caterina would have a very good relationship with the church of Rydor in the city, as well as some relationships developed with various people who would have likely helped her in past adventures, as well as a great relationship with the local law.
GBoy: I'll give the others a bit of an opportunity to post and then hopefully move everyone forward together.
Thanks for your patience folks, and I hope you had a Happy Holiday this past weekend (you U.S. folks)!
Posted on 2008-11-30 at 21:21:20.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Delayed answers. Sorry folks...Holidays, you know?
OK, Sui, first you: If I've misinterpreted Shiften's intentions in life, my apologies. Your description kind of turned me towards the idea that he was opposed to politics, and kinda a Robin Hood. So, I figured that this new politician appears and Shiften would decide to "introduce" himself. He's not exactly rich either, so a little extra pocket cash won't necessarily hurt.
I've created a map for you. It is uploaded here: Manor House Map
Each square is ten meters.There are three guard patrols, as indicated by the three different colored lines. The small purple route takes about five minutes to complete. The larger green route takes about fifteen minutes, and the largest, red route takes about thirty minutes. The similarity between Shiften's cloak and the guard's cloaks is too noticeable to allow him to blend in, plus there are a limited number of guards per patrol group, and adding one to the number would definitely be noticeable. The lowest part of the balcony is twenty feet from the ground, but the rail is another four feet high, so a total of twenty-four feet to achieve the balcony. The whole face of the building on the balcony side is black--there are no lights on in that part of the building. There's a lot of stone reliefs, and some decorative pillars...it would be a hard climb, maybe a DC of 20. The snow cover is about two feet deep, except in the trail made by the various guards. To move silently in this snow would require a Stealth check DC 30, and you'd move one quarter your normal MOVE.
Blammm: Sanya would know who all of these people are, but she's not a favorite amongst the politicians as she holds real power through her magic as well as her council position. The High Speaker and his circle of friends are especially stand-offish and have been known to suggest that she uses magic to further her political ends, so they advise people to steer clear of her. Sanya has obviously never heard of the High Speaker's cousin, and has had little to do with the other people Cyeen has mentioned except in passing.
Her position in the city would not be considered among the highest of the politicians, but she is certainly not among the lowest either. The council often finds reasons to send her out of the city on business (thus the Bayris trip) both because she is effective in her work, and because they are uncomfortable with her power.
YeOlde: That forty would be miles, and you travel roughly 24 miles in a day of hard marching. In weather...well, you might achieve 18 to 20. From the location Sna'kti saw on the map it will take him between two and a half and three days to achieve the cave area. There's also half a dozen villages between Portua and the cave area, as well as Visden if he wants to head there first and then move along the coast.
Vanadia: What's the direction Caterina is going to take after she's spent an adequate amount of time in prayer, watching over Ethain's body? The servants won't be returning until late in the evening, but Caterina doesn't maintain a priest at the manor, so no one is likely to enter the chapel without invitation, though they may start looking about the manor once they see the blood on the stairs and the mess in the study. I'd just like to advance you a bit further and need to know what you'd like to do.
If you need some help with ideas, Caterina would have a very good relationship with the church of Rydor in the city, as well as some relationships developed with various people who would have likely helped her in past adventures, as well as a great relationship with the local law.
GBoy: I'll give the others a bit of an opportunity to post and then hopefully move everyone forward together.
Thanks for your patience folks, and I hope you had a Happy Holiday this past weekend (you U.S. folks)!
Posted on 2008-11-30 at 21:17:47.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Answers
I'll try to have answers to the questions asked by end of day tomorrow. Thanks for your patience.
Posted on 2008-11-29 at 03:56:45.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Such pessimists.
Going out in style is the Punk way!
Posted on 2008-11-25 at 01:07:52.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: All but Vanadia...looking for her post before posting for Caterina.
OK, so the next post is in place. Vanadia's the only one without a continuance as she's been unable to post for Caterina.
Sui and gboy, I put your characters into action right off the bat. If you've any questions, feel free to P.M. me.
The plan is to post again on Sunday. Have fun!
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 19:50:02.
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Topic: The Embodiment - A FUZIONfantasy Game
Subject: All but Vanadia...looking for her post before posting for Caterina.
The Castle | Pardinal | The City of Portua | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:30pm | Storming
“What can you tell me about this creature? How powerful is it? How big is it? Are special weapons required to harm it? I need to know what I am up against.” Sna’kti started to eat as Lord Ontzlere took a deep breath and looked down his hawkish nose at the kazari.
“There was not a lot of detail given in the scripts we were able to decipher. I would assume that the creature is very powerful as it was nigh unto impossible to seal it away the first time. We regret that we cannot give you any further information concerning this. The texts were very vague in their reference to even the creature’s appearance, let alone the details of its powers. It was almost as though the individuals responsible for chronicling the event knew of it only by hearsay.” The tone of the man’s voice was tired, and drawn. “I do apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you, but I’m to remind you that the sum being offered is well worth scouting the area. You aren’t being asked to engage the creature unless the opportunity arises.”
Wiping his mouth on his furry arm, Sna’kti nodded and then thought about the mission. It sounded like a good scouting mission, but there was more than that if he ran into this creature.
“It sounds like a very dangerous job,” he said as he chewed and thought it over; then added, “I will go to the cave and ascertain the danger for one thousand… but if I have to fight this creature: it will cost you an additional thousand if I kill it… take it or leave it.”
Lord Ontzlere gave a slow, calculating nod. “So be it. While we don’t expect you to set off tonight, I would appreciate word the you’d left Portua by first light. The sooner we can put this concern to bed, the less the King has to concern himself with the matter.”
Taurwen | Rayther | Outside of The City of Rayther | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:03pm | Storming
“Now, Lord Cyeen, please. Speak plainly to me this matter that has caused you so much distress.”
Cyeen took a deep breath and brought his hands around to straighten out his fur-lined robe, the hem of which was now drenched as the snow that had clung to it was melted away by the fire’s warmth. “I do apologize, Lady Sanya. I’ve been struggling with this almost the duration of your absence, and all those who would be allies are either disappearing, or being swayed.
“Approximately two days after you’d left for Bayris High Speaker Hilrald Todraid of the Council of Elders welcomed to his estates one he called his cousin. The man’s name is Lord Anseem Rusah, and if you don’t mind me saying, they look nothing alike! At that point, High Speaker Todraid announced that there would be a ball held at his estate in honor of his cousin’s visit, and that all in the Council and of the High Judges were invited to attend.
“As you well know, a social gathering of such prominence is not to be ignored should you hold any aspirations towards advancement at all,” Cyeen’s jowls flapped as he ruefully shook his head. “So I accepted the invitation and when I arrived there was not a single person there who did not hold a seat of power or authority within Rayther. The evening’s festivities were grand enough, and Lord Rusah was a charming addition to the social clime. The women were smitten, and the men were admittedly enthralled. I later deliberated on all that I’d learned of the man, and could recall not one thing, Lady Sanya! Not one thing!
“All that I know is that he is Lord Anseem Rusah, and that High Speaker Todraid claims him as a cousin. I do not know from whence he came, I know not a thing of his family…and yet I am sure he discussed such things as polite conversation most certainly leads one down that path.”
“And it is he who is giving these gifts?” Lady Sanya gently prodded.
“No. No, Milady,” Cyeen shook his head again, this time with more fervor. “The gifts are from High Speaker Todraid—Thanks for attending his gathering. Mine still sits atop my desk in my study unopened, for I’d just been to visit the chambers of a fellow judge and had seen him doting over a ring with a giant gemstone set atop the crown, his present unwrapped and lying open upon his desk. He paid me hardly any mind at all while I was there, and we normally share in very lucid conversation concerning trials of late. I was so put out I left within minutes of arriving and went immediately to see another colleague. He, too, was enamored with a piece of jewelry, only this time it was an amulet, though the stones appeared similar. I tried three more of the robe that day, and all three were equally caught up. By the end of the day I was seeing assassins in shadows and starting at my own footfall.
“I returned to my townhome and haven’t left it but to come here, fearing for my well-being.”
“And who is it that is gone then, Good Cyeen?”
“At first there I took no real notice of it,” the judge made his way slowly from the fire just as the meal was brought for him. “I later learned that there was some sort of quest put out by the High Council and that all able-bodied adventuring sorts were jumping at the chance to win the prize. It was a race of sorts, something having to do with a cave in the forests that contained the prize: a decanter that dispensed magically with all varying types of liquids, both warm and cold. Supposedly it was a jeweled thing worth a king’s ransom, and the adventuring sorts were all very excited by it.
“I looked further into the matter finding it somewhat suspicious that the High Council had anything remotely like such a powerful artifact as that on hand to just give away as sport, and by the time I’d done my due diligence there was not a single adventurer that I could find left in the city, and a number of the guard had thrown down their mantles as well in order to pursue the prize. I began at that point to deduce that something more foul than I’d originally suspected was afoot, and that’s when I received the visitor asking if I’d enjoyed my ‘gift.’”
Cyeen began to eat as he spoke, continuing the tale around the food in his mouth. “I admitted to enjoying it very much, but I don’t think that the messenger believed me, and once he’d left, I locked my doors again, and refused to see anyone. My house is empty now, Lady Sanya. All of my servants gone, most having never shown up at their scheduled times after the messenger came.”
“When did you send your manservant to deliver to me a message?” Sanya’s voice remained coaxing and calm.
“Poor Densam!” Cyeen wailed despite the soothing tone of Lady Sanya’s question. “I sent him two days ago in the false dawn, for I feared that he might be picked up by whomever is behind this, and now I fear that is the case. I sent another messenger two days prior to that, but knew that you would return by magic were you capable and should the messengers have gotten through. Poor Densam!
“You must involve yourself this instant, Lady Sanya! You must pay a visit to High Speaker Todraid’s estate so that you can see the danger for yourself. You alone hold the power in the city to stand up to the threat that Lord Anseem Rusah and High Speaker Todraid present Rayther. You alone, My Lady.”
The Poor Sect | Alleyway | The City of Ethryn | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:20pm | Overcast and Snow-Covered
The information he’d received from his informant had led him to the hovels of the poor sect in Ethryn. Lloyd von Schrteider stood draped in his drab gray cloak, his hood over his head, the shadow on the leeside of the shack covering him in the cold of the darkening evening from the limited light being given off by the lantern hanging across the street. There weren’t many people about as most of the day’s chores had been attended to while there was still some warmth from the day present. As the winter’s night descended upon the capital of Ertain, those who could found their way indoors to the warmth of the fire and hopefully a filling meal. Unfortunately for Lloyd, he was seeking to collect on a bounty, something he’d need if he and his wife Cynthia were to ever get out of the rental they endured since their estate had burned to the ground some time ago.
He’d become aware of the bounty by messenger from the King’s Palace. His Majesty Jarom Strongblade had put a contract out for the capture of the assassin who’d attempted to take the life of His Grace, Count Painceit Urolin, one of Jarom’s favorites in the court, and a strong supporter of the King. It was worth five thousand royals, and five thousand royals could go a long ways towards rebuilding their home. So, he’d gathered up his gear, kissed Cynthia good-bye, and set out to gather what information he could.
Lloyd had always been good at getting people to talk to him, and over the years he’d developed the knack for figuring out where to find those willing to part with information for a bit of coin, a favor, or information he could offer. As a matter-of-fact, he’d built his reputation on it, and that morning after the messenger had arrived delivering the notice of the contract to him, Lloyd had spent the day tracking down just those kinds of individuals. He’d spent a little over twenty-five royals, swapped information with an old blind man who acted as a broker for one of the local thieves’ guilds, and conversed with more than a few guards to learn anything he could concerning their progress into the investigation. What’s he’d learned was the Count Urolin was barely being kept alive by all of the magic the clergy of Lysora could muster, and there was doubt that he would survive the night. Apparently the poisoned dagger used to wound him had only scratched the count as he was an active individual, a strong swordsman, and a fairly alert fellow, but it was a strong poison, and a kind that was apparently resistant to the magic so-called divine individuals could bestow. Jarom Strongblade was beside himself with rage, and there was more than one bounty hunter on the contract.
Lloyd had also learned that it was possible the assassin had holed up in the shack he was now keeping under surveillance from his corner roost. The shack was a single-story structure with a single door at the front and only one window. The poor often limited the number of exits heat could escape from their hovels as they couldn’t always afford fuel, and Lloyd had already done a sweep of the whole premise to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. The window was shuttered. There wasn’t any glass, but he also couldn’t see inside. The light was dim within, but there was definitely someone home as the lamps had not been lit until dusk had set in.
The street that ran in front of the shack was narrow, barely wide enough to fit a wagon down, but the hovel was in the middle of the block, so Lloyd stood in the alley between two of the shacks, huddled in his cloak waiting and watching; wondering when another hunter would show and force his hand.
Noble’s Ward | Treetop | The City of Davnor | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:30pm | Partly Cloudy and Snow-Covered
Shiften sat with his left shoulder resting against the cold trunk of the tree, the balls of his feet pressed against the branch, his cloak shrouding him further into the failing light. There was a soft wind blowing, but it was a cold wind, and the rogue had to pull his cloak about him tighter to ward it off. His narrowed brown eyes studied the lay of the estate from his perch high in an evergreen giant. He’d learned very little from his surveillance thus far as he’d only been there for a few minutes—since it had started growing darker. But he knew that there were regular patrols by heavily armored and armed men wearing black cloaks and hoods, working with mastiff dogs. The patrols appeared to be about ten minutes apart. He was also faced with the problem of the snow on the ground; not the most ideal time to try and pull of a breaking and entering job, but then, he had his reputation to think of. If he could succeed at this, it would only add to his legend, not to mention the welcoming he was giving the newest of Sendria’s nobility. He didn’t care if he walked out of that expansive manor with ten thousand gold, or if it was one pendant with priceless personal value to the new duchess. All that mattered was that she knew she’d been hit, and that he got the credit for the job. There was already talk on the street that he’d retired it had been so long since his last job. He couldn’t afford to let that spread too far or people would start forgetting who he was and not take him seriously when he needed it.
So it was that Shiften of Sendria crouched in a tree thirty feet above the snow-covered grounds in the Noble’s Ward of Davnor a mere twenty meters from the fifteen foot tall stone fence that surrounded Lady Sanuril Solan’s estate. From the fence there was approximately two hundred meters of ground to cover, most of it open with the occasional copse of trees to provide some relief from the sun during the summer. But once he’d reached the imposing gray of the stone walls, he’d find plenty of shadow to work his way through.
The best entry point would be the balcony on the second story. It was a south-facing wall, and the only light there was the moonlight. As he’d considered before, the only challenge at this point was getting across the open terrain without alerting the patrolling guards that he was there, or that he had been there, and so far, none of them had ventured within fifty meters of the manor that he’d seen. So that meant that he couldn’t walk in their footprints.
Alternatively, he could find some disguise to get him inside, but as far as he’d been able to tell, Lady Solan’s guest list was very elite…as a matter-of-fact, she’d met with Piers Aelfgar, the Lord of Davnor, at her estate, not at his. That meant that he’d attended her, and yet the only title she bore was that of Duchess, something that his sources told him she’d purchased with almost fifty thousand bulrin! Of course, there was always the servant’s entrance. He’d have to shift his surveillance, but he was pretty sure he’d be able to get in that way and not leave too many suspicious footprints depending on what the servants were up to that day. It was a huge risk because it meant defeating the natural skepticism of those who worked together frequently and making them believe he was either one of them, or a new addition.
This meant that the best way in would still be the second story balcony. The stonework of that piece would make for a fairly easy climb, and though the doors were closed, Shiften hadn’t had much trouble with locks for some time. The fact that Lady Solan was not entertaining that night…at least not yet…was both good and bad. It meant that security was less tight, but it also meant that the lady of the house was not distracted.
There were so many possibilities. Get in, get out, claim the praise from all who talked about it…quietly, of course.
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 19:44:46.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Sorry for the delay.
The post has been made. Enjoy!
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 18:00:11.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Speaking of dead...
I16 Southbound – North Oak – Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 4:58am
Kremlin’s laughter filled the cabin and only subsided as he wheezed a few coughs through, again waving his bodyguards off as though annoying insects. “You wish to gamble? You wish for us to provide you with sniper? For how long, Mr. Spiff? What guarantee that sniper will live? What guarantee that sniper will not be pinched?” The fat man’s piggy eyes narrowed to a point where they were practically swallowed by his cheeks. “What guarantee you have that I work you in some way you can manage?”
Spiff's smile was unwavering, almost sadistic in nature. "It seems we're both taking a gamble then."
Kremlin chuckled again, obviously amused by this play. After a couple of seconds he shook his massive head in a slow, but deliberate way. “You have balls, Mr. Spiff. But the Organization cannot afford to be contracted into something as public as…say, assassinating mayor, or district attorney. So I must know. What is it that shooter be shooting?”
I16 Southbound – North Oak – Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 4:58am
New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 6:42pm
“Guardian?” Scribe could read faces, he could even read body language fairly well, but this guy wasn’t reading. So, the media was relying on his bodyguard’s experience to make the call.
Guardian shrugged slightly to Frankie's question while still looking at the suit. "It's not as if we've really got a choice, is it? Isn't it like they say - An enemy of my enemy is my friend? Not that we really have an enemy and not that I'd ever call any Corp a friend."
“They don’t have to be called a friend so long as they aren’t shooting at us,” Scribe agreed with a nod and looked back at the suit. “All right, Choomba. Your move.”
The man smiled disarmingly and turned to the door. Taking out a small, sleek-looking box made of black high-gloss plastic, he quickly strung a single wire from the bottom to the base of the keycard box where it attached with what appeared to be a magnet. The man then pressed a nearly undetectable button on the surface of the box and there was a quick spark of blue from the keycard swipe before the slight buzz of the door being unlocked was heard. Frankie vowed to get one of those boxes someday.
The corporate moved through the door and quickly stepped aside to allow the others through. They were in a short hall leading out to the main foyer of the mallplex, and they could see the mass of shoppers and layabouts before them without problem. The trio stepped lively and made their way into the crowd, but it wasn’t over for them.
Guardian spotted them first: the four security officers in their black uniforms making their way across the floor towards them. There was about thirty meters between the guards and the three of them, but in that space there was quite the throng of people. If he had to estimate, Guardian would say that it would slow the guard’s movement by about a quarter speed. The problem was that the three of them were about fifty meters from the nearest street exit, and had just as many people to get through in order to get free.
This wasn’t stopping the corporate, however.
“Here,” the man said suddenly while turning and offering Guardian and Scribe both a small, clear plastic packet containing soft foam earplugs. “Put these in.”
Scribe raised his eyebrows, (OOC: assuming Guardian tells them of the guards) but after a quick glance in the direction his bodyguard had indicated, the media slipped them out of the packet and began to place them in his ears, the PIP view of his camera now watching the guard’s progress as they pressed on.
(OOC: again, assuming Guardian follows suite.)
Once all three of them had the earplugs in place, everything went to hell. The first indication that something was up came when the pressure against their inner ears began to build, but it stopped there for them. The mass of people congregating in the foyer weren’t so lucky. The wave of audio that struck their ears disrupted the continuity of the liquid in their inner ear. Within a second or two of the pressure build up people were puking to the left and right of them. There was screaming, moaning, flailing about, and falling to their knees. In his PIP screen, Scribe saw that first of the guards buckle and heave almost immediately followed by his companions. Meanwhile, Guardian picked up a different view as the corporate suit began to run quickly towards the exit where a man in another suit and trench coat stood with a large suitcase-like device at his feet that had the yellow and black caution symbol all about its edge and a flashing red light. There was also what appeared to be speakers lining the exterior, though they were nicely integrated into the design.
(OOC: assuming you follow.)
Passing the third corporate suit, Scribe glanced up at his stony face, but received no response. The man was watching the crowd with sole purpose, the hand hanging at his side held a handgun the likes of which Scribe had never seen before. Then, they were out on the street and the doors closed behind them. The corporate that was their guide indicated for them to remove the earplugs by removing his own.
“You wished to walk, Mr. Tordesky?” he said with a smile, standing in the rain, his coat swept about his expensive pant legs as he motioned down the street. The weather was definitely worse than when they’d ditched the car just a short time ago. “Or…” There was a black, four door sedan parked at the curb, and as the corporate pointed to it, the man from inside stepped through the door and made his way to the trunk, opening it and placing the suitcase device inside the sleek tan interior.
Frankie glanced at Guardian and shrugged. He was all for maintaining their original plan, but these fellows had already shown a certain amount of ingenuity, and they knew him by his real name, not his moniker, so there wasn’t much difference that walking would do. They had a car with tinted windows, and the media had no idea if there was a man waiting inside with a gun or not, but if they were on the street and that car swept by, it could kill them just as easily as if they entered the vehicle. And, they’d be out of the rain to boot, so after shrugging, Scribe stepped towards the car.
“You’re a convincing fellow Mr…?” Frankie said as dryly as he could considering the wet all around them.
“My name is Javier Heming, Mr. Tordesky. And thank you.”
The interior of Javier’s car was by no means shabby. It was done up in synthleather, tan, with wood paneling. There wasn’t room enough for there to be two bench seats, and Guardian took the outside passenger seat while Mr. Heming took the outside rear seat on the driver’s side leaving Scribe in the middle. The fellow who’d just replaced the device in the trunk stepped up to the passenger’s side front and slipped into the seat. The driver was another fellow in a suit, only this time he also wore one of those limo driver hats.
“If you two gentlemen will indulge me a little, I think it’s high time we got dried off and enjoyed a warm meal.” Javier Heming leaned forward to look both of his guests in the face and smiled a pleasant smile. “You are interested in a warm meal, are you not?”
“I’m interested in knowing how we can be of assistance to you, Javier,” Frankie said guardedly.
Javier nodded slowly and pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. “I’ve a long standing business practice, Frankie. I don’t discuss business on an empty stomach. However—“ he raised his hands to stall any objection as Scribe’s mouth had already opened ready to spill forth a snappy retort. “—However, I will set your mind at ease by saying this: We’re not after you, per se, but rather what you’re after, and we’re interested in helping obtain the objective.
“Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’d prefer to listen to some quiet music for a time and share this fantastic brandy with two gentlemen of taste.”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to us,” Scribe said wryly, though he didn’t object as Javier selected a tumbler from the back of the driver’s seat as well as a travel-sized decanter of brandy and poured him and Guardian a glass.
The drive took them further downtown, and eventually underneath one of the many high-rises there. The underground parking facility was heavily guarded, though by the insignia on their uniforms, Guardian and Scribe both knew these were contract workers: Militech security detail. To Scribe, that said a lot as most foreign marketers went with Arasaka. Whomever Javier worked for was a local Red, White, and Blue.
They accompanied Javier and his bodyguard up through the elevator, and Scribe wasn’t surprised when they hit the button to take them to the penthouse suites levels. The room that they entered into upon arriving at their floor was extravagant, well lit, and provided a sweeping view of the storm clouds. A caramel glass table was waiting for them in the center of the room with a three person place setting and a serving girl stood nearby wearing a very, very short black leather skirt and a white blouse with a very low neckline. She was extremely pretty, of the modeling variety, with long blonde hair touched with red streaks.
As they seated themselves, she made her way about the table filling the three glasses with red wine before removing herself in pursuit of their meal.
“I trust you’ve no objection to steak,” Javier said as he unfolded his napkin and draped it across his lap. “I’ve a French chef on retainer and he’s prepared a very delicious meal for us tonight. Only the best when establishing a new relationship, I say.”
Scribe raised his eyebrows and gave an appreciative nod. He wasn’t swayed by all of the finery, but he was appreciative of the man’s obvious wealth. “Who’d you say you work for again, Javier?”
“I didn’t, Frankie,” Javier smiled warmly and took a sip of his wine, savoring it for a moment before swallowing. “My organization is not important, and you’ll understand why it has to remain anonymous, I’m sure. I’d appreciate it if we could eat before digging into the details further.”
“OK.”
The meal was very delicious, consisting of real meat, vegetables, potatoes, and gravy. There was also a nice round of salads, stuffed mushrooms, and breadsticks followed up by a delicious chocolate pie. The wine was refilled any time a glass was emptied, and the whole while classical music played softly in the background. At the end of the meal, Javier motioned them into a cozy den off of the dining room while the beautiful servant cleared away the dishes. Here, he produced actual Cuban cigars, offering one to both men, and whether they lit up or not, he stood near the mantle with a smoking cigar in hand enjoying its aroma.
DigitalScribe refused the cigar and sat in the comfortable leather chair waiting Javier’s whim. After what seemed like a good five minutes of silent enjoyment of his cigar, the corporate breathed out heavily and smiled softly at his two guests.
“Thank you for your patience. As I’ve mentioned, the organization I work for is interested in obtaining the formula for the drug you’ve discovered Biotechnica is testing. Quite simply, we want to refine it, and market it correctly. You’ve seen that Biotechnica has botched the work already…well, I can guarantee that we won’t.”
“Why don’t you just go in and take it, Corporation to Corporation. And don’t tell me you guys don’t do that sort of thing,” Scribe said. His camera had been stowed away in the car at Javier’s request, so now he was interviewing for the sake of covering their bases more than the story.
“We could,” Javier continued to smile. “But you are already in process. As a matter-of-fact, the last report I received was that your friends have begun their approach on the Biotechnica facility.”
Frankie glanced at Guardian with worry in his eyes. These guys had surveillance on Croaker and his team!
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. How do you think we knew where to pick you up at?” Javier chuckled. “We were watching the apartment building that you people hit, and have been keeping an eye on you the whole time since.”
“Why’d you allow Biotechnica’s hit team to chase us through the streets if we’re valuable enough to wine and dine?” Scribe asked, doing his best to remain casual in appearance.
“We had to determine if you had a chance.”
“A test? Were those your men?”
“Hardly.”
Frankie considered what he’d heard and then shook his head slowly. “You son of a bitch. You don’t want to be fingered as having anything to do with this by Biotechnica, so you’re playing it out through us.”
Javier’s grin widened and he pointed a finger at Scribe while still holding his cigar in the same hand. “Now you’re getting it.”
“No deal,” Frankie shook his head. “We appreciate the meal, and the chance to be out of the rain, Javier, but we’re no corporation’s lapdog, and we’re sure as hell not taking a dangerous, killing drug out of the hands of one corporation just to put it in the hands of another.”
“We’re not going to market it to the public, and we’re most certainly not going to market it in its current form,” Javier remained calmly at the mantelpiece. “You’ve not a lot of options before you, Mr. Tordesky. Look, this is a major decision. You’ve got to be the one to make it as your friends are a little engaged at the moment, and that fellow Springed-Heel Jack doesn’t necessarily need to be a part of this. This is a private deal for you and your man here. Money is not the object either.
“I’m willing to offer one hundred thousand apiece upon delivery. This is a lot to think about, so I’m not looking for an immediate answer. Why don’t the two of you enjoy the atmosphere for a while and I’ll leave you alone to talk it over. Just give a shout when you’ve made up your mind.”
Frankie was about to object, but Javier gave him another of his disarming smiles before striding past them and out of the room.
“One hundred thousand…”Scribe sat back in his chair. “Croaker and his friends don’t get into any more trouble than they’re already in…we get paid…the drug hits the market anyway, just through a different channel…”
New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:51pm
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
Peering around the corner of the hall, Firewind took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was in a corporate facility in a firefight, with reinforcements pending for the other side, and no way that he knew of out of the situation. They were dead. That’s all there was to it. They were all dead.
“No use waiting,” Freeway said as he came up on Firewind’s elbow. “Reinforcements will be coming through that door one way or another, and I’d rather we make sure they have no room to maneuver than not. So, stay here.”
Before Firewind could response, the nomad was darting down the hall back towards the elevators and the door to the stairs. The medtech swore under his breath as the man closed the distance between the corner and the stairs in record time, swung the door open, and disappeared into the stairwell.
“Great,” the medtech moaned to Lightning as he kept his eyes tightly locked on the other end of the hallway, the submachine gun held firmly in his hands. “He’s dead.” It was hopefully not a prophetic statement, but the medtech could only assume as upstairs meant two more floors of possible guards. “How’re they doing?” He asked, motioning with his head back the direction of the gunfire so that Lightning would understand he wanted the techie to check on the scene at the other end of the hall.
MDK’s yell echoed above the rapid fire of the weapons. The assassin was flying down the hall. Dropping to his knees, he arched his back a little to give him balance. His target was further down the hall, peering out of a door maybe four meters from where MDK hoped to end his slide. His Automag recoiled again, and again, leaving the man’s head a cloud of fiery dust as he slumped to the floor.
Peacekeeper swore as MDK cut in front of her, but as soon as he dropped to his knees she had a clear shot again. She’d passed where Bull’s Eye had gone down and was hot on MDK’s heels. Unfortunately, having to recalibrate slightly after the assassin’s maneuver, she lost her opportunity as the target ducked back around the corner. Slowing, she kept the weapon level and waited. A second later the man reappeared and there was an exchange of bullets.
Peacekeeper smiled as she watched the man at the end of the hall fall backward, a hole in his forehead. Then her breath caught in her lungs and she felt bubbles rise up in her throat. Gasping she looked in alarm down at her leather clad body to discover that her armor had been penetrated at the chest. It was with that realization that she knew she’d been killed. There was no pain; just the realization that her lung had been pierced and she was dying. Blackness overcame her and her legs fell out from beneath her.
Peacekeeper fell to the floor dead just as Lightning reached the corner and peered around it. There was but one of their party left in the hall, and MDK had completed his move by sliding right up against the leg of the dead guard in the hall—the guard Peacekeeper had first put down. Now the assassin had his shoulder up against the corner, and the claxon of the alarm was the only sound.
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:26am
There was a lull of about a minute during which time Croaker struggled fruitlessly against his bindings. Then the nurse arrived once more, silent and with an expressionless face. She approached the I.V. at the nomad’s bedside and took the tube feeding painkillers into the man’s arm in hand.
Croaker’s eyes narrowed as she lifted a needle and penetrated the tube. The liquid in the syringe was a black hue with a slightly red tinge to it when the light caught it. The nurse said nothing further as she pressed the back of the syringe and fed the tube full of the swirling cloud of black. The drip being ran into Croaker’s bloodstream carried the substance quickly down the length of the tube until it vanished into the bruised flesh around the catheter. Croaker’s eyes widened. He knew what was being done and he was helpless to do anything about it. Mr. Ackerman had no more use for him.
Within seconds, Richard Tallon’s body started to convulse and his eyes rolled up into the back of the sockets, but there was no one in the room to see it. The nurse had left, and by the time the door had clicked shut, Croaker was dead.
Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:27am
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 17:56:28.
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Topic: Twilight- Any Fans?
Subject: My wife made me...
My wife made me see the movie, but I haven't read any of the books. She swears up and down that the books are ten times better than the movie. I'll withhold my opinion...
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 03:43:38.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Well, I may not get a post in tonight, but...
I did finish your character gboy! I've uploaded it and changed the link on the first page of this thread to reflect that. You can view him there. I'll likely post in the next couple of days if I don't get to it tonight.
Posted on 2008-11-24 at 01:08:35.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: I don't have much more to do on Gboy's character.
Gboy, I don't have much left on your character, and seeing how I'm really hoping Vanadia manages to get a post in this morning, I'll hold off posting until later this afternoon. I've a few articles to write, but once I've finished with them, if it isn't too late in the day, I'll work on finishing your character and then post. So, you might still be included in this lot.
Posted on 2008-11-23 at 17:03:43.
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Topic: Clawing my way back to the surface...
Subject: I'm a nobody?
Ah, Roger. I post.
Robert. We'll be as patient as you need. Looking forward to your return.
Posted on 2008-11-23 at 07:37:34.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Reporting in.
The trek had been a slippery mess of wet leaves, gushy mud, and treacherous loose rocks, but the two scouts eventually found their perch near enough the town to hear what was said between the strange “brothers” and to practically smell the carnage.
Char sat quietly covered in his cloak and bearskin, peering at the murderers with his icy blue eyes and trying to memorize the lay of the land. After a brief time, sure that they had all of the information they’d need, and positive that neither of them wanted to take these two on alone, Char indicated that they should return the way they’d come. Picking their way out of visual and audio range very carefully so as to avoid any chance of catching the “brother’s” attention, they soon found themselves working cross country to catch up with the remainder of the party.
“It be as da villagers say,” Char intoned as he approached Arien and the others. Shaking a hand through his wet hair the ranger looked back over his shoulder. “Two o’ dem. One big an’ ugly, de udder all celesteeal an’ da like ‘overin’ o’er da village…” the woodsman looked back at the others. “E’ry one o’ dem dat was in da village look t’ be dead, an’ da keep still appears t’ be locked up ti’.”
Char continues to describe the lay of the land and what pieces of the enemy’s conversation he’d overheard, as well as the position of the enemy, and then, when finished, moves to take Northwind’s reins once more while waiting for ideas to be generated. He’d been trained in his trade by being a scout for military groups. He knew exactly what to look for and what to report on to be most effective. Now, it was up to the tactical minds to determine the plan of attack. He, for one, was not looking forward to the pending confrontation for there was definitely magic afoot, and powerful beings to boot.
Posted on 2008-11-22 at 22:46:07.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Sorry it is so late...
Rocinante, Regina, Frisco, - 6:00am
Wyatt felt a particular loneliness while sitting at the table in the galley as each member of his crew settled in with their usual g’mornin’s and such. It weren’t for the lack of company so much as the fact that he had no hat. If he’d been willing to do a little deeper prospectin’ into that brainpan of his, he might’ve come to the conclusion that everything that had happened the past few days had left him tired. When tired, his emotional defenses were less than capable of staving off the constant assault against his Id by Depression and loss. It’s what had driven him to the bottle in the first place after Eden and Summer’s murders. He’d spent so much time locked in visions of their last few minutes that he’d lost the ability to sleep. Traumatic insomnia, the doc had called it just after he’d signed on with the Browncoats. He couldn’t escape the horrors of war, nor the disaster his personal life had endured and the only method of coping he’d been able to find was amber in color.
Of course, he was past that now…wasn’t he?
“We’re glad t’ have you two back,” Wyatt said, breaking the relative silence and nodding to Sam and Fenris as he spoke. They’d arrived just before Trish had served up and though the greetings had already taken place, Sung couldn’t help but reiterate. He felt greatly relieved to have the group back together again and knitted up at that.
“Willow, you sure you don’t want me to accompany you to this meetin’ with the old shepherd?” Sung asked turning his attention to the ship doctor. Receiving the answer he’d suspected, the captain of Rocinante looked back over the rest of the table. “All right, then. So as I see it we’ve a right busy day ahead of us.
“Willow. When you finish up at your meetin’ would you mind seeing if we can’t find a buyer fer all that rum and those chocolates—I know, I know. We all would love t’ sample some of them wares, but Rocinante needs some work and every extra credit’ll do us some good.” Turning to Fenris, Sung addressed the big man with a little less familiarity. “I’d appreciate it if you could give Rocinante a once over and determine what all needs to be done to make sure we don’t spring a leak in the Black. I’ll set aside some credits so’s you can arrange t’ have the tanks cleaned and perform what maintenance you can. Somethin’ ‘tween five hundred and five-fifty should do it.”
(OOC: assuming an affirmative response.)
“Oh, and make sure that mule get’s taken care of too, will ya? All right, that leaves the port fees and such—I’ll handle that on our way to the town meeting.” Glancing at Asher and Dash, Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “I’m assumin’ the two of you’ll be joining me at the town meeting?”
(OOC: again, assuming some kind of affirmative response.)
“Good. Then we’ll swing by the port authority once we get our fill here, an’ after that we’ll hit the main street an’ see if I can’t get me a new hat, while Asher picks up our ammunition, an’ Sam replaces that shirt they made Swiss cheese outta.”
Pushing his finished meal aside, Wyatt settled back in his chair. “I ain’t missing nothin’ am I? Oh, yeah! Here,” The captain reached into his jacket pocket and produced credits to go around. “Fifty apiece for the time being. Sorry it ain’t more, but we gotta make sure we can git t’ the next mudball, an’ we’re not fueling up here.
“OK, so now am I missin’ somethin’?”
Posted on 2008-11-22 at 22:04:54.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: I ended up with more time than I'd thought this morning...
As such, I finished Sui's character Shiften. I've uploaded him and will next focus on Gboy's. Again, I'll be posting Sunday (and Sui's introduction will be in that post). So, those of you who already have characters made, please make sure your posts have been taken care of before then. Thank you for your patience.
Posted on 2008-11-22 at 21:36:26.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: The plan is
To post Sunday, same as usual.
Posted on 2008-11-22 at 06:36:39.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: The plan
The plan is still to post on Sunday. I have to apologize to the players waiting in the wings for their characters. This week has been hectic with me getting sick, work, etc. I haven't worked on your characters since last week. Hopefully I'll be able to get the characters finished up shortly.
In the meantime, Sunday...hopefully.
Posted on 2008-11-22 at 06:34:53.
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Topic: I'm so bored...
Subject: Heh
I'm so bored I could watch an attempt to fry an egg on ice.
Posted on 2008-11-20 at 14:45:12.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Im confused
Which one is William Shatner?
I say we rejoin the party. What says Da'Moon?
Posted on 2008-11-19 at 06:51:09.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: that's why
I left things kinda open as far as that's concerned. *pats self on back*
Posted on 2008-11-18 at 05:38:20.
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Topic: Clawing my way back to the surface...
Subject: What he said
/\---him. You know? The webmaster fellow.
Posted on 2008-11-17 at 15:45:58.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
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