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Shadowrun Notes

Some notes (including session logs from my character's perspective) on the Shadowrun game in which I played.

Session 1: Food Fight

Out-Of-Character (OOC): We all finish putting together characters. The roster is thus:

After getting the characters together (finally), Cline (the gamemaster) gives us all a very brief tutorial on how to make tests, we perform quick introductions, and then we enter the Sixth World.

Old-time Shadowrunners will probably know this -- well, call it a vignette, it doesn't qualify for full adventure status -- from the Shadowrun Second Edition rulebook. It's the shoot-out at the Stuffer Shack!

Our assorted runners, all of whom had passing acquaintance, no more, had been siezed by the munchies. A quick trip to the Stuffer Shack seemed the only answer. A few other customers prowled its flourescent-lit aisles. Cyrus grabbed some Fizzy-Goo and a bag of Orc Rinds and headed for the counter. That's when the shit hit the fan, as a ronin-wannabe whipped out his alleged katana and threatened the elf-chica behind the register. His buddies outside came inside, announcing their presence with a classic 12-gauge knock. Tension hung in the air -- but was broken as the roninny whipped around and challenged Cyrus.

"You show disrespect," he said, meeting the troll's eyes. He brought his sword up in a pathetic salute and moved forward in a guard stance. Cyrus rolled his eyes and swung his staff around in a casual, insolent fashion.

The other runners, no fools, quickly took the measure of the gangers. They were punks: a street shaman lolling at the heels of a slut who threatened Wire with a machine pistol; a young kid nervously stuffing his bag full of merchandise; an over-cybered human trying to cover the entire store with his shotgun; a big lummox; and the leader, a rough-and-tough type with a pump-action shotgun.

The ronin stepped forward, aiming a crude over-hand slash at Cyrus. Cyrus parried easily and brought his staff, seven feet of solid oak, around in a one-two strike: groin, forehead. The punk crumpled, katana clattering to the floor. Things turned serious.

Unfortunately, I wasn't taking notes. We cleaned up in less than two rounds, though, and these are the memorable bits:

Cyrus tossed a stun ball taking out two punks, the clerk, and Wire. Note to self: learn stun bolt.

Chopper whipped out a pair of Manhunters and plugged the shaman twice through the chest -- end of shaman.

Fox used her naff reflexes and gun skills to whack two of the punks. Bam-BAM!

Jo tossed a load of buckshot at the hyper-cybered punk, but missed. Motor oil all over, clean up on Aisle 4.

Wire... went nappies.

Violet shot somebody... I just don't remember who. The poor newbie punk, I think.

Session 2: Supernova, part 1

SPOILER ALERT: This adventure is part of the scenario pack First Run. If you're playing through that, read no further unless you want to spoil your fun.

Real-time: September 6, 2002. Sixth World: February 15, 2060.

Doc:

We all received (through various methods) the following message from "John Doe," a fixer: Meet Mr. Johnson at Club Penumbra, 1800 hours, for a job. The pay is very good.

I arrived at the club an hour early, just to scope the place out. I'd never been there before, and figured I'd better get a look before anything went down. A few minutes after I checked my gun, staff, and foci at the door, the rest of the runners began to trickle in. From a barstool, polishing off a healthy-sized synth-burger and Red Soda, Doc watched them wander around. The elf -- Wire -- walked straight up to the bar and chatted with the bartender, Kevin. Apparently old friends. The rest just sidled around and waited. At 1800 hours, we walked up to the bouncer and were directed to a booth where a nervous Mr. Johnson waited.

Tonight's Mr. Johnson was a nervous-looking corporate type with a largish silver briefcase. He skipped the pleasantries and opened the conversation with the proposal: "I want you to pick up an object from a certain place and deliver it to me. This must be done tonight. I cannot stress this enough. Upon delivery, I will pay you each 20,000 nuyen. Are you interested?" After a little hemming and hawing, the "team" agreed.

He quickly outlined the run: the team was to go through a tunnel in Auburn to a lab owned by Teklon Industries. In a room (9c) in that lab, they would find a case similar to the one he had with him, but it would have a sunburst emblem on it. Once we had it, we were to go into hiding. From there, we'd call him -- he slid a cell phone across the table -- and he'd give us an address. We would go to the address, exchange the case with someone there, and then meet Mr. Johnson back at Club Penumbra. Simple. He provided us with a pair of spray cans which would get us through a wall into the lab. Then he left.

The team, still in the booth at Club Penumbra, began planning. First off, we dug up some info on Teklon Industries. Actually, Jo, Wire, and Violet dug up the info, Wire getting drinks in the process. All came up with pretty much the same data: Teklon is a microtronic manufacturer based out of Auburn. They claim that 75% of all cyberware on the street has their electronics inside.

Having figured that out, we decided to just go for it, after setting up a few contingency plans. We would head out to gather resources for two hours, then rendezvous at the subway station near the tunnel entrance. Our mid-mission rendezvous would be a nearby coffin hotel, if the drek hit the fan or when we successfully exfiltrated the lab. From there, we would move on. Fully equipped we met up at the transit station.

Jo was the chauffeur, with a few drones along for the ride. First task was checking out the tunnel entrance. A simple manhole in a very short alleyway, in a small corporate neighborhood. No obvious cameras or police presence. Looked safe enough. We then cruised on to check out the R&D facility the tunnel led to. That was a different story entirely: A four-story building, bland, with a broad security perimeter and fence. Nicely protected magically as well, as a quick astral check told me. If the drek came down, the team wouldn't be able to get out easily that way. On the way back to the tunnel entrance, we swung by a Stuffer Shack and picked up some snacks for Jo and I, who would stay in the van as back up, and some flashlights -- just in case.

The van pulled up into the alleyway, set up for a quick get away, and Jo and I popped the manhole. The four members of the infiltration team -- Wire for the locks and mainframe, Chopper for the magic, Fox for the muscle, and Violet for everything else -- swung into the tunnel. Just before they left, I established a mindlink with Chopper. We lowered a couple drones -- a recon and a crawler with some firepower -- into the tunnel to keep an eye out, and they moved in.

Quotes of the Night:

GM: "Remember, Mr. Johnson said he took care of security."
Doc: "Oh, well, let's trust him."

Wire: "I can wiggle into any man's pants."

Session 3: Supernova, part 2

Real-time: September 13, 2002. Sixth World: February 1516, 2060.

Doc:

As we watched the strike team head into the tunnel, I dropped the manhole cover back down and Jo hooked herself up to her drone network. I popped a can of soda and settled down to wait, "listening" to Chopper over the mindlink as he narrated the run.

After a few minutes, it occured to me to summon a little buddy or two to help us out. First I got hold of a cranky city spirit. He didn't like the idea too much, but he agreed to help out, and I sent him over to keep an eye on the lab from above ground and report back if anything happened. Off he went. Then I tried a little harder, and got a downright cooperative city spirit; he was more than happy to help us out, and used his powers to help conceal the van from prying eyes. We settled back to wait.
RULES ALERT! Neither Cline nor I realized it at the time, but summoning a nature spirit is an Exclusive action. The mindlink spell should've been dropped. Whoops.

The team got to the end of the tunnel, past several branching tunnels, no problem. Quick use by Wire of "Johnson's Spray" got everyone and the crawler drone through the wall; the recon drone stayed behind to watch over the escape route. Inside, they moved through a storage area into an operating theater, and from there into a pre-surgery chamber, where the first obstacle of the night was encountered: a security camera, although "paralyzed" like the rest had been, was unfortunately looking at the center of the room -- and there was no way to skirt its field of vision.

Chopper to the rescue. A wee bit of chanting and the group went invisible. Carefully, they moved across, trying not to make too much noice or bump into each other. Successfully (they hoped) making it to the other side. A dressing room with couches and surgical gowns led to a staircase going up. A camera scanned the stairs, and the door at the top clearly had an active maglock. Wire's turn to shine, and he shimmied up to the door and popped the lock -- piece of cake. Then the team got to a pair of huge metal security doors, which pretty much screamed "Something Valuable Here!" A little fiddling by the nancing elf and they were into a microtronics lab with glass walls. (WTF?) The case we'd been hired to steal was clearly in view -- and Violet recognized the logo. "Novatech?" Fox: "We're stealing from Richard Villiers?"

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the night as the team realized just what kind of drek we'd gotten into. Wire grabbed the case and the infiltration team ran like hell -- frag the stealth! As they hauled down the hall, they saw what looked like something trying to punch through the steel door, not that they needed any incentive to run faster. Five minutes later, they were at the wall, and a few seconds after that, through it and into the tunnel.

Meanwhile, back at the van...

Just as the explosion went off, the first spirit I'd summoned came rushing back with a report of big noises, an explosion, and sundry other disturbances of the peace. I thanked it and asked to stick around. It grumbled, but hovered over the van with the other little buddy. A few seconds later, an idea occured to me. The action followed upon the thought, and I asked it to check out the tunnels and try to find some other safe exits for our friends that, perhaps, Mr. Johnson hadn't known about.

A few minutes later (by which time the team has reached the wall), it reports back. There's another exit about two kilometers from where we are now. I mindlink the info to Chopper, who tells the infiltration team. They agree to go for that. Jo (reacting to my instructions) has the recon drone check it out for non-living threats while we head for the new rendezvous point. Some long minutes later, we all meet up. One full hour from the beginning of the infiltration to having team and objective back in the van.

As we cruised around happening Auburn near midnight, we planned. It seemed best to split up a bit for the moment. Fox and Violet left on Fox's bike with the cellphone, with which they would contact Mr. Johnson. Chopper established a mindlink with Violet, while I set one up with Fox. I also sent Little Buddy A (the first one) to watch over them, just in case. Turned out to be a moot point, as the two got a coffin for a few minutes to make the call. The rest of us cruised some more in the van, swinging by a Stuffer Shack for some post-run munchies. Staying mobile...

On the phone, Mr. Johnson nearly slipped (which would have been handy, as Fox was, as always, recording), but didn't give his name away. He told us to meet a Ms. Elizabeth Chavez, an elven woman, at the intersection of 100th and Main in Bellevue -- a warehouse district and otherwise quiet neighborhood. We had two hours to get to the rendezvous at 0200. We were to contact Mr. Johsnon after we switched cases with Chavez. Fox said she understood and hung up. Then she and Violet took off for another coffin hotel and talked the situation over with us via mindlink.

We all agreed on getting to the meet early. Best to case the place out, eh? Beforehand, though, we split up just a little more. Jo and I took the tube (along with Little Buddy B) to pick up her Honda LS sports car, so as to have maximum get away power at the meet. (fruitlessly? we'll see next week...) I dropped my mindlink with Fox and established one with Chopper (which came in very handy a few hours later). Chopper and Wire took the van and the drones to a little secured parking lot a block away from the meet on Main St., with Jo threatening grievous bodily harm if the paint was so much as scratched. Violet and Fox hit a coffee shop and got a quick buzz going.

At 0100 or thereabouts, we met at the corner of 100th and Main. It was a good spot for a meet. Four-story warehouses lined the streets, there was a decent amount of cover, and good lines of sight down both streets. Even better (for us) we found that one of the warehouses overlooking the intersection had a fire escape in a nearby alley (which ran along 100th St.), allowing access to the roof. Jo parked the Honda a block or so away from the meet on 100th. Fox hid her bike in the alley, and we planned.

It was at this point we realized a minor flaw in our preparation. No one had a long range weapon. Come to that, we hadn't brought a lot of firepower, period. This made having a sniper on overwatch problematic. Groaning inwardly, I volunteered for the roof; with a couple spells, maybe I could give us an edge if the drek hit the fan. Violet would do the talking, while Wire and Chopper stood in the background. Fox would guard Jo's back, way back in the shadows.

Chavez was late. As it turns out, she was very late. About 0210, just before we were gonna call Mr. Johnson, a car came weaving down Main. And I mean weaving. At the end of its careen, it nearly hit the three in the open (sort of) and smashed into the traffic light. The blare of its horn cut through the night in a thoroughly unpleasant fashion. So much for stealth.

At this point, I (checking the scene out on the astral plane) noticed something deeply disturbing. On either end of the intersection, on Main street, a stealthy helicopter was lowering four guys, who promptly formed up and began advancing in tight military fashion... A quick check down 100th revealed a van on either side of the intersection, quietly pulling up and blocking the street. Fox could hear something, too. I quick-like mindlinked the situation to Chopper. He summed things up beautifully: "We are fragged. We are in deep drek."

At a guess, we were outnumbered, 7 to 8. If the vans held goons too, it was more like 7 to 12. I muttered under my breath, thanked Oak that I'd asked Little Buddy B to shroud me from prying eyes, and tried to figure out what to do about the closest helicopter, with its chaingun seeming terribly, terribly close...

Quote of the Night:

Wire (at the end of the session): "I got some serious pants to invade."

Session 4: Supernova, Finale

Real Time: September 27, 2002. Sixth World: February 16, 2060

As the last commando dropped onto the street, the helicopters took off, vanishing into the night. Well, two fewer worries. I took a closer look at the goons and realized -- from their red and black stylized armor -- that they were probably from Renraku. Fun. They were also armed with AK-97s, and thus they not only outnumbered us, they outgunned us as well.

The rest of the night was occupied with a combat that took a few hours to run in realtime. For your convenience, it is summarized here.

Fox started the party, tossing a grenade at the closest van. Though she missed, the blast incapacitated the van. It wasn't going anywhere. The goons opened fire at the three standing more-or-less in the open, namely Wire, Violet, and Chopper. Violet and Wire took hits -- Wire, in fact, was killed, as a burst took off the upper half of his skull. Violet was down, holding the case as she bled on the pavement.

A wage mage jumped out of the van Fox had attacked and unleashed a lightning bolt at her, shaking her up a bit. About the same time, I noticed something unnatural ('tweren't canny!) stepping out of the other van -- some kind of three-armed abomination armed with a light machine gun. Corruption bled from it into the astral. From rumors I'd heard, I guessed it was a cyber-zombie. Bad news. As I watched it step out, I realized that there was a mage in that van sustaining a spell.

Jo swung into action, ordering her van to get here pronto and swooping the lone surveillance drone down to distract one of the goon squads. Sadly, it was quickly shot down. Meanwhile, Chopper (who hasn't been hit yet) did the street-magic thing and threw a ball of lightning at the closest squad -- just about under me, as it happened. One goon dropped, obviously dead, and the rest were severely wounded. I decided to help him out and hurled a massive stunball at the same squad, incapacitating the rest. Unfortunately, I was unable to resist the drain, and dropped myself.

Fox stepped around the corner from where she'd tried to dodge the lightning bolt and plugged the mage -- didn't kill him, but got his attention again. He tried to zap her again and dropped from the drain. He missed, too.

By this time, Jo's van was in place, and she was able to get the Doberman out and ready for action. Chopper, seriously winded from the first ball lightning, went for broke and tossed another one at the other squad. Same result -- one down, three badly hurt. Of course, he dropped from the drain himself. Fox took a shot at one of the survivors, but not too effectively. And then Jo stepped in, so to speak, and cut loose with the Doberman's LMG. The three standing goons were riddled with gunfire and out of the picture.

While nobody was looking, the cyberzombie and the other van disappeared -- strategic withdrawal, I guess. Our standing members could here the sound of Lone Star sirens getting closer. They got down to business and loaded everyone up into the van, including Wire's corpse. Fox grabbed a quartet of AK-97s -- get what you can, y'know? -- and grabbed the case from Chavez' car, as well as a convenient PDA on the seat next to it. Jo climbed up to the roof and grabbed me, stuffing me into her Honda and very smoothly getting us out just before Lone Star showed up.

As she took off on her bike, Fox made a call to her mother-in-law, who apparently has connections to the Ork Underground. Though just a bit miffed at being woken up at three A.M., she agreed to get us some medical help -- in exchange for 10,000¥. A location was given, and we rendesvoused there. An ork Eagle shaman name of Marcus Lonefeather met us and did the patching up. (I would have helped, but still feeling damn woozy.) Fox said she'd bring the payment by late that day.

While the doc was was doing his thing, those of us who were conscious had a chance to look at the PDA Fox had grabbed. One of the entries, the second to last one, was the meet that had just gone so disastrously wrong. The last one was for another meet, quite soon. We looked at each other and decided to follow through with that one as well. (After all, we had to get that 10,000¥ somehow.)

The meet was at a nice downtown ofice building. We walked in, using a code we'd found in the PDA, and headed up to the penthouse in the only elevator available. In the penthouse we met Mr. Johnson, who was damn nervous. Appropriately so, as he was accompanied by Miles Lanier and Richard Villiers.

As an aside: For those not familiar with the Shadowrun universe, Villiers and Lanier are the head of a very powerful megacorporation and his head of security, respectively. As a further aside, it drives me nuts when adventure writers shove the baddest-assed NPCs in the game in the PCs faces, like they did here. Realistically speaking, there was absolutely no reason for Lanier not to waste our team when we stepped in the elevator, and he certainly could have. Not our GM's fault -- canned adventure -- but nonetheless, one of my pet peeves. It's like having Magneto guest star on Mystery Men.

A short conversation with L. & V. ensued. It developed that we'd stolen (from Villiers) a cybernetic head, and were supposed to exchange it for a load of nuyen. Ah, the leisurely life of a shadowrunner. We gave them the cases (like we had a choice), and they were kind enough to give us 123,000¥ (!) in exchange. Unsurprisingly, Lanier geeked the clueless Mr. Johnson. After checking the other case, Lanier announced that "they" knew where "we" (i.e., the important people, him and Villiers) were. Villiers hired us to get them out of the building. No cash, but now he owes us a favor, which is probably better. We ran interference, which was a cakewalk compared to the last firefight, and the Ares limo disappeared down the street, away from the burning hulks of the Renraku vehicles.

We, of course, faded into the shadows.

Wire's funeral, such as it was, was pretty. A light drizzle punctuated by some damn T-bird flying overhead as we scattered his ashes over the Sound. Seattle doesn't get much better than this. And hell, we got paid.

Quote of the Night:

GM (referring to Jo's van): "How did I miss that you had MISSILES?"
Jesse: "You didn't ask."

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