It's what the title says. My current campaign is in the Fates Worse Than Death setting, so I'm working on martial arts styles for the system.
If anyone follows this blog, they might remember I made Capoeira. Well, turns out there was a Capoeira style in Hoodoo Blues, which uses the same system, so I might not have bothered...
But then there is more than one variant of Capoeira IRL as well, so I just have two variants now.
However, reviewing my own Capoeira variant (which was inspired by the Crane style, Snake Boxing and Tai Chi in the Tibet book-which also uses the same system as FWTD) , I came with an idea how to get the system to do what I want it to when it comes to representing street fights. Well, styles-wise. I'm not sure yet how to make it represent the random effects of damage without turning it into a random chart-heavy or narrrative system.
UFC-style MMA (Combat): Mainly taught by pit-fighters in more regulated bouts to prospective inheritor of the title, it's a style based on boxing, kickboxing and immobilization with a bit of wrestling thrown in. Gives the following:
-4 to Strike with hands or feet. Striking with feet/knees becomes Easy if the PC has grabbed the head/neck of the enemy or has him in a Wrestling Grab.
-4 to Grab: Pain. Grab: Pain becomes Easy if both combatants are on the ground (seating, kneeling or prone) and Very easy if both are on the ground and the PC has achieved a Wrestling Grab.
-8 to Grab: Strangulation. Grab: Strangulation becomes Easy if both combatants are on the ground (seating, kneeling or prone) and Very Easy if both combatants are on the ground and the PC has achieved a Wrestling Grab or Grab:Pain.
+0 to Grab: Wrestling
-4 Takedown. If the PC has a Grab: Wrestling, the Takedown is Easy
-4 Flip
Anyway, comments and suggestions would be appreciated! You might also post them on the Burn Immediately forum. I'm going to post this style there as well, in the FWTD sub-forum.
Showing posts with label FWTD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FWTD. Show all posts
Monday, 22 September 2014
Wednesday, 9 July 2014
OK, it's final! "Schools" are more misleading than useful.
I was just wondering what games I like, whether I prefer old school or new school, or something in-between.
After some deliberation, I was surprised at the number of OSR and old school games that are among my favourites.
Scarlet Heroes and DCC take the lead. Then we follow, probably, with Spears of the Dawn, ACKS, Epées et Sorcellerie, Spellcraft and Swordplay, Backswords and Bucklers, Stars Without Numbers, and arguably even Crimson Blades and Lamentations of the Flame Princess should be there.
If we include old-school games in general, we add Grunts (Fantasy Fucking Vietnam minus the fantasy part) and 43 AD/Warband/Zenobia right next to Scarlet Heroes. And arguably any edition of Traveller, BRP, Flashing Blades and Dogtown should be right there as well. And Dragon Warriors, which I happen to like, even if the system could be improved.
And then we go forFates Worse Than Death and Hoodoo Blues, which are old-school in a good way. And my wife is younger than Pendragon, so the game definitely counts as old-school to me, as far as games go!
Okay, maybe I'm an old-school guy, reading the above...
Except I love WotG and LotW, Sorcerer, Apocalypse World, Monsterhearts, Gods of Gondwane, TBZ, Houses of the Blooded, Enemy Gods, Fate and Shahida just as much, all of them being New School par excellence!
But I also like GURPS, RQ6, Savage Worlds, Artesia, Volant, TRoS, Seeker and Blue Planet, which are some kind of a middle-school. And Celestial Warriors, which is new-school in a different way. And post-GMC nWoD, which is also "middle school" in its own way...
In theory, I'm either the happy guy that can play everything (hah! Good luck getting me to play PF, just to name the example I turn down most often)...
...or we can conclude the distinction between "schools" to be absolute BS. In theory, my tastes should clash with at least some of these games, just on virtue of liking their polar opposites!
In practice, I like each of them for what they do well.
So, this is my conclusion for today. Find a game that does well whatever it does. Play it in a way that would make it shine. Laugh heartily at the idea that games come in "generations". Seriously, there is no difference, except in what was modern at the time!
After some deliberation, I was surprised at the number of OSR and old school games that are among my favourites.
Scarlet Heroes and DCC take the lead. Then we follow, probably, with Spears of the Dawn, ACKS, Epées et Sorcellerie, Spellcraft and Swordplay, Backswords and Bucklers, Stars Without Numbers, and arguably even Crimson Blades and Lamentations of the Flame Princess should be there.
If we include old-school games in general, we add Grunts (Fantasy Fucking Vietnam minus the fantasy part) and 43 AD/Warband/Zenobia right next to Scarlet Heroes. And arguably any edition of Traveller, BRP, Flashing Blades and Dogtown should be right there as well. And Dragon Warriors, which I happen to like, even if the system could be improved.
And then we go forFates Worse Than Death and Hoodoo Blues, which are old-school in a good way. And my wife is younger than Pendragon, so the game definitely counts as old-school to me, as far as games go!
Okay, maybe I'm an old-school guy, reading the above...
Except I love WotG and LotW, Sorcerer, Apocalypse World, Monsterhearts, Gods of Gondwane, TBZ, Houses of the Blooded, Enemy Gods, Fate and Shahida just as much, all of them being New School par excellence!
But I also like GURPS, RQ6, Savage Worlds, Artesia, Volant, TRoS, Seeker and Blue Planet, which are some kind of a middle-school. And Celestial Warriors, which is new-school in a different way. And post-GMC nWoD, which is also "middle school" in its own way...
In theory, I'm either the happy guy that can play everything (hah! Good luck getting me to play PF, just to name the example I turn down most often)...
...or we can conclude the distinction between "schools" to be absolute BS. In theory, my tastes should clash with at least some of these games, just on virtue of liking their polar opposites!
In practice, I like each of them for what they do well.
So, this is my conclusion for today. Find a game that does well whatever it does. Play it in a way that would make it shine. Laugh heartily at the idea that games come in "generations". Seriously, there is no difference, except in what was modern at the time!
Tuesday, 11 February 2014
Fates Worse Than Death: A post-PCs setting (I gave up on counting the sessions)
The PCs have left their mark on 2080 Manhattan, so I felt like giving you an idea.
... now it's not just Bleeders and Night Shift looking for Colin. FBI is looking for Colin, too. And Interpol. And NSA. And everyone and their dog, too.
Back to the wider picture, the war on the drug lords has started.
The Night Shift captured one of the drug kings. Only trouble is, they were too good at it - when they cut off his retreat to a helicopter, the pilot waiting for him asked for instructions. He was a mole for the drug lords.
The drug lords therefore instructed him to enforce the Plan B. Plan B involved killing everyone in the compound with napalm bombs.
Estimated Night Shift losses: 72% of the strike team, which consisted of roughly 50 people. Estimated losses among the Humankalorie back-up (they have joined forces with Night Shift and the Wave-Riders against the Drug Lords in an uneasy alliance): over 80%.
The Hungry got into a fight with the Skin Borgs. They're suspecting them to have become Drug Lords' catpaws (and they're right, although most Skin Borgs didn't actually know about it).
The Congress is debating National Anti-Colin Act. A certain Reverend has applied for registration and for receiving religious grants as a persecuted religion.
Chaos reigns supreme! In other words, the PCs have left their mark on the setting.
... now it's not just Bleeders and Night Shift looking for Colin. FBI is looking for Colin, too. And Interpol. And NSA. And everyone and their dog, too.
It's all on the
news now, thanks to a Night Walker who has been taken to meet Colin, and
social media. Call the Math Addicts what you want, but they can
calculate how to spread news optimally.
So, after the different PCs captured several Collins, the existence of Colin has been proven. Needless to say, that doesn't make Colin too happy.
The Colin-Eater is there as well. And he has revealed one of his copies.
The Hunt For Colin has begun! Estimated victims in the first 3 days: 18. Expected victims over the next 10 days: 180. Estimated number of Colins killed in the Hunt: 1-3 (yes, between 1 and 3). Colin is much better at not attracting attention than most Crazies are. And addicts disappear for days, then reappear and behave weird. Several unfaithful husbands have been clubbed to death, poisoned, strangled, or set on fire (the latter by a pyromaniac wife) as well.
Directly concerning the party, the Freak PC is currently making an appointment for a date with a Sexologist chick. Problem is, said Sexologist is a recently turned Colin.
So the question is, can Freak sex influence Colin to not kill someone? The Freak PC doesn't go on dates that don't end in bed, so applying it seems likely. Not even Colin's Willpower stands a chance.
So, after the different PCs captured several Collins, the existence of Colin has been proven. Needless to say, that doesn't make Colin too happy.
The Colin-Eater is there as well. And he has revealed one of his copies.
The Hunt For Colin has begun! Estimated victims in the first 3 days: 18. Expected victims over the next 10 days: 180. Estimated number of Colins killed in the Hunt: 1-3 (yes, between 1 and 3). Colin is much better at not attracting attention than most Crazies are. And addicts disappear for days, then reappear and behave weird. Several unfaithful husbands have been clubbed to death, poisoned, strangled, or set on fire (the latter by a pyromaniac wife) as well.
Directly concerning the party, the Freak PC is currently making an appointment for a date with a Sexologist chick. Problem is, said Sexologist is a recently turned Colin.
So the question is, can Freak sex influence Colin to not kill someone? The Freak PC doesn't go on dates that don't end in bed, so applying it seems likely. Not even Colin's Willpower stands a chance.
The effects, however, might differ.
Back to the wider picture, the war on the drug lords has started.
The Night Shift captured one of the drug kings. Only trouble is, they were too good at it - when they cut off his retreat to a helicopter, the pilot waiting for him asked for instructions. He was a mole for the drug lords.
The drug lords therefore instructed him to enforce the Plan B. Plan B involved killing everyone in the compound with napalm bombs.
Estimated Night Shift losses: 72% of the strike team, which consisted of roughly 50 people. Estimated losses among the Humankalorie back-up (they have joined forces with Night Shift and the Wave-Riders against the Drug Lords in an uneasy alliance): over 80%.
The Hungry got into a fight with the Skin Borgs. They're suspecting them to have become Drug Lords' catpaws (and they're right, although most Skin Borgs didn't actually know about it).
The Congress is debating National Anti-Colin Act. A certain Reverend has applied for registration and for receiving religious grants as a persecuted religion.
Chaos reigns supreme! In other words, the PCs have left their mark on the setting.
Hopefully what emerges will be better, but entropy makes that unlikely.
Saturday, 23 November 2013
FWTD: Nathan Trenchard's journal
JOURNAL
ENTRY 2
About
ten days passed since my last journal entry. I left the hospital as
soon as I could. My injury was grave, but not life threatening and I
am sure that there is someone out there who needs medical attention
more than me. I would probably get a scar from this.
After
I went to my hotel, I decided to give a public inspirational speech
to the citizens of Manhattan. Such events always had a positive
outcome back home. I donned my battle armor, to look more confident
and impressive and went outside. I found a modest elevated object and
started my heartfelt speech. It turned out good in my opinion – but
the reaction from the crowd was half-hearted, at the best. Only a few
people stopped by to listen and I think they amused themselves at my
expense. There was even some poor misguided soul, who gave me a flyer
about something called “The Church of Collin”. Very downtrodden…
and disgusting. Well, I tried my best. Next time I’ll think of
something more productive. But I haven’t given up on the whole
idea.
The next day I went to
the hospital, bearing flowers and some presents for Michaela. After
all, it was my fault that I did not protect her. She beamed at the
sight of my material expression of apology.
“Oh, thank you, these
are really nice, especially the oranges. I like oranges!”, she
chirped.
“No
problem”, I said. “I wanted to apologize for my failure in
standing by your side in that Collin encounter. May your soul be
whole soon and your inner harmony be restored in its entirety.”
Michaela looked puzzled.
It seemed that my verbal apology should have been withheld. Again, I
did not understand. What was wrong with my day-to-day speech that it
made people balk with blank stares at me?
After going to Michaela,
I went back to the hotel. To my surprise, someone was already in my
room, though the lock was intact. The stranger was standing by the
window, faintly illuminated by the weak light that was coming from
the dirty glass. He was tall and wore an expensive black suit.
“I was waiting for
you”, he said in neutral tone.
“You were? I did not
know I had an appointment. Excuse me, then, for making You wait”, I
replied politely. “Please, have a seat.”
He thanked stiffly and
sat at the edge of a rickety chair. I asked him what brings him here.
“Our agreement”, he
said in the same smooth monotone. “You have agreed, sometime ago in
the near past, to find a particular person. I am here to remind you
about this.”
My mind raced. Near past?
Could it be something with connected to my recent memory loss? I had
to know more.
“When did I we made
this agreement?”
“About three weeks
ago.”
I
was right. It
was
connected to my mysterious blank spot. But, at the same time, I had
made a promise. And a promise cannot be broken. I had first to
fulfill my duty.
“Ok, I will uphold my
end of the agreement. Who is this person that You need found?”
“A woman. Goes by the
name Natasha. She may have other aliases and has been elusive for
quite some time.”
“And why do You need
her found?”
The suit smiled wryly.
“This
is out of the discussion”, he replied in dry tone. “Our reasons
are our own. What matters is that you fulfill your end of the deal.”
“Alright.
Until when I have to find this Antoinette?”
“Oh, no rush. She will
be hard to catch. When is not of prime concern. The important part is
to be done.” The suit rose and started to leave.
“Wait. How will I
contact You to report my progress?”, I asked.
“No need. I’ll keep
in touch instead.” And with that, he left.
I
remained alone with my thoughts. Hm, the plot thickens. But still,
one must be in peace with himself in order to be in harmony with the
Universe. This Antoinette issue can wait. I said my evening prayers,
had some quick meal and then went to my shift.
When
I finally went back to work, commander Leila already was responding
to a maximum priority distress signal. There has been a shootout in
the city. All Night Shifts were on high alert. The situation had to
be contained quickly, or the National Guard would have to interfere.
No wonder everyone was jumpy. I personally was resolved as always and
said a few prayers before leaving HQ.
We
went to the site of the accident. We found one dead person on the
rooftop of some building. Asian, by the looks of him, probably
Chinese. Beside him lay a heavy antimaterial Barret sniper rifle. The
body was brutally beaten and maimed. What was odd is that the dead
Asian looked like a hired killer, not a victim. After a brief
inquiry, we found out that his intended target was been in a diner
across the street, but there were no windows. So, not only a heavy
sniper to penetrate the wall, but probably some X-ray imaging also. A
high-profile assassination then. Only, the assassin was the one to
lay dead afterwards.
One
of the clients of the diner was also dead. A woman, quite attractive
and comparatively young. She and her sister had been sitting at the
table, were the assassin had aimed. After careful questioning the
sister explained that there were a man sitting with them, also
Chinese. He had been laying his head on the lap of the victim, when
the first shot had penetrated the wall. According to the witness
report, he then had jumped with lightning speed and stormed out of
the restaurant. Presumably, he was our only suspect for the killing
of the shooter. Which seemed quite the feat if it had been actually
achieved.
We photographed the
scene, took data for the forensics team and called HQ that the
situation was under control. After that, having still enough time on
shift, our unit conducted regular patrolling for the rest of the
night.
When
we returned to HQ, I used the police database to run a search about
Antoinette. Big surprise here – she indeed had multiple aliases,
one of which was Natasha. So, Natasha and Antoinette were the one and
same person. She was wanted from the FBI, NYPD and private
corporations, for several serious crimes and illegal activities,
including drug trafficking and black market dealing of biotech.
Pretty long record. So, three weeks ago I had agreed on finding one
dangerous criminal and had no memory of it. How Natasha was connected
to me? And better yet, what have I gotten myself into? Does it have
something with my mysterious arrival in Manhattan?
Better to find out.
Saturday, 19 October 2013
FWTD: Night Shifts, domestic violence, and the power of strength (sessions 9 and onwards, or 11 and onwards)
These are the last 4 sessions of my FWTD game.
The Utopia Child
(Nathan Trenchard – A diary by the player)Continued after “The First Patrol”…
Day 3/4
On the next evening, during my shift we received a regular call. Apparently some perpetrators had rigged a building with traps. Me, commander Leila and another officer, whose name currently eludes me, went on to respond to the signal.
On arrival, I was charged with interrogating the local citizens about the identities and whereabouts of the trap riggers. I didn’t learn much, but at least got one sure address. Just as I reported my progress to commander Leila, we received a call for back-up from the nearby abandoned building. We responded immediately.
Inside, there was another police officer, Michaela was her name, another very thin and small-framed woman and a young man, his wrists bound with hand-cuffs and sitting on the ground. Commander Leila asked what is happening here. Officer Michaela responded that this was one of the suspects who placed traps around the area. At this point the man, who was actually a juvenile, made a spiteful and angry retort. I kneeled down to his eye level and asked:
“Why did you do this?”
“Fuck you!”, he responded with cold hate.
“Why do you insult me?”
“Because you can stuff your dick up your ass!”
“And why should I do that?”
“I don’t know. Because you like dicks inside your cavities?”, was the sneer reply.
I felt pity for his clearly troubled condition and said:
“I sense a lot of confusion and darkness in your soul. You must calm yourself.”
“I am calm. You, on the other hand, all of you”, he surveyed the room, “will die.”
“Everybody dies sooner or later”, I replied unfazed.
“Oh, but your will be soon. Very soon”, said he with a menace in his tone.
“And why is that?”
“Didn’t I told you to go fuck yourself?”, the young man said, resorting to his earlier contempt-seething insults.
I stood up.
“You have something that troubles you greatly”, I said to him in a soft voice. “You need to meditate and try and find inner harmony.”
“I don’t need any meditation. You will die and that going to happen soon.”
My face hardened slightly. “We’ll see.”
I turned and faced commander Leila, who was laughing again at some unfamiliar notion. Michaela and the other cop were chuckling, too.
“Commander, do you know who this man is?”
She composed herself and manhandled the suspect, knocking him against the wall, adding what I believe to be a few unnecessary extra punches.
“All that there is to know, is that you have to handle these guys with a side order of maximum police brutality,” Leila replied to me. Then she turned and hissed in the man’s ear: “Now, tell me where are your friends, and I won’t break your head open.”
“You’ll get nothing from me, bitch. You will die!”
“Wrong answer,” she said coldly a hit him with her club. He dropped on the floor, panting.
“Huh, this one will be hard to crack” said Michaela nonchalantly.
“Will someone please explain me who this man is?” I asked, having lost patience. “Is he related to some gang or not? You seem to know his lot.”
Commander Leila looked at my helmet and suddenly a devilish smile flashed on her face:
“I will tell you, if you headbutt him.”
“No. That will be against protocol.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll let you then to wonder.”
I hesitated. It was wrong, the deed she asked me to commit. My eyes glanced quickly to the young man. Something was not right about him. But… to hit him while he is helpless? That was low, no matter his crimes.
“Time’s ticking”, said Leila. “Decide already.”
My short time in this city has showed me how dangerous was to be in the dark, without knowledge or information about even basic things. I weighted my options. What good it was to persist? A dead man cannot atone past sins.
I straightened the apprehended man and said to him:
“Forgive me.”
Then gave him a hard blow with the helmet.
“Good”, said commander Leila. “I shouldn’t pity him, though. He is a Collin.”
“What is ‘a Collin’?”
“He’s still new, isn’t he?”, interjected Michaela casually.
“You have no idea” muttered Leila and elaborated on my question: “Collin is a serial killer from the recent past. But instead of killing his victims, he download his consciousness into their bodies. Thus he copies himself.”
“He what– how he does that?” I asked astonished.
Leila looked at me as if I was some sort of a tribal.
“With mental installers, of course! Aren’t you Utopia Childs supposed to be advanced and familiar with technology?”
“We are, but… a mental installer in not something you have in your closet.”
“In principle, yes, but in this city there are a lot of hidden installers left behind since the Freedom Wars. So, in practice, you can have one in your closet, if you are lucky enough.”
I looked wordlessly at the man on the ground.
“So this… this Collin, he… he uses the bodies of his victims to make… copies of himself?”
“Correct.”
“He… he destroys people’s minds?” I felt anger slowly boiling inside me. “He denies them their life in such vulgar and abhorrent way, possibly leaving them with a torn soul?! Disrupting their natural harmony for his own sick pleasure!?”
“Well”, said Leila a little uncertain, “I wouldn’t think of saying it that way, but yes.”
Now I was outraged. Such pervesion was beyond anything I have encountered in my life. Such brutal way of taking one freedom, one’s path of creating his destiny, was beyond salvation. This Collin has to be destroyed, for the good of all of creation.
I turned gave the Collin a vicious kick in the ribs.
“Bravo!”, exclaimed Leila. “Now I like you more.”
I tried to compose myself. Leila and the others chatted for a while. It appeared that this might be a Collin hideout, or at least that was the theory. The little woman didn’t speak much. Michaela questioned her what was she doing here. Overall, I think it was just another civilian trying to do the right thing. The world needed more people like her. And less like Collin. At some point, an expensively dressed and authorital man appeared. He introduced himself as a Bleeder* elder and the teacher of the little woman, a Bleeder herself. It seemed he had some personal stake in the matter, but I let commander Leila to handle the details.
During the talks I scanned the building for a possible hideout. After some investigation, one of the inner walls of the building, which was an abandoned warehouse, turned out to be fake. I kicked it, but it was sollid concrete, yet it sounded hollow. Strange. Fortunately, the Bleeder elder had a wrecking crew on call and he went to bring them. Leila and the other officer went out front, to radio for back-up, taking the arrestant with them. Me, Michaela and the Bleeder woman stayed to guard the place. I circled around the rooms and went to what I presumed to be the opposite face of the hollow wall. To my surprise, the wall here was not concrete, but simple plywood. I picked a spot, focused my inner energy and kicked. My boot penetrated the thin obstruction and my leg sank to its knee.
Immidiately, I called for back-up. Michaela came instantly. While we were staring at the dark gaping hole, suddenly something swooshed from inside and hit my armored uniform. A knife. Seconds later, a man entered the room. Somehow something was not right with him and I yelled him to remain motionless. He did not comply. Instead, he thrust out his hand at Michaela and sprayed her eyes with small pepper spray. Michaela reeled with a yelp and stumbled. The uknown man then brought out a knife and walked towards me.
“Stop! You are under arrest!”, I yelled, tipping my sword in his direction.
He jumped and attacked me. It was short, but intensive fight. I retained my distance, so I could have combat advantage. That was a mistake. The moment I drew myself backwards, he turned and sliced Michaela’s throat while she was still stunned. I screamed in rage and charged the Collin (for now I knew what was he).
I killed him and then hurried to help Michaela. Noises were coming from the broken drywall and the place was too dangerous for triage. I dragged my fellow officer in the next room, where the Bleeder girl looked for us with frightened expression. I had little time, because new attackers could emerge any second, so I hurriedly took out my medkit and started giving first aid. I quickly bandaged the wound and reduced the bloodloss to the best of my abilities.
“Stay with here and guard her!”, I ordered the Bleeder and took out my radio, raising code alarm for officer down and multiple armed and dangerous suspects.
Soon commander Leila and a whole platoon of police officers arrived at the scene. A medical unit took care of Michaela and transported her to the hospital. The Bleeder elder and his wrecking crew also arrived, but their job was already done. We found the fake wall wide open in a concrete double-door fashion.
We cautiously raided the place, but no one was to be found. What was interesting is that in the hidden basement we found a working mental installer. The Collins had started a automatic memory wipe and it had almost finished. I urged for the process to be stopped and some tech guys went forward and tried to halt the memory wipe. They were not doing well, so I decided to step in personally and having little expertise in computers, I did the best layman’s solution… pulling the plug.
The technical team said I saved about 10% data. Better than nothing.
At the far end of the basement there was a solid metal door with a code panel lock. Presumably that’s where the Collins retreated. Nobody could unlock the door and I think even the wrecking crew of the Bleeder elder would have had a hard time with it.
We left the technical team to salvage the portable components under guard and our patrol unit took to the streets again.
It was near the end of the shift when commander Leila suddenly requested of us to remove out badges. I was bewildered, but she gave an order, so I complied. Then we went north in Skin Borgs’ territory. We arrived at the entrance of some secluded building, which was well guarded. Commander Leila took a different posture and said to us to act as her bodyguards. Hmm. So, this was going to be an undercover action. Alright.
We went inside. There was quite the crowd and some form of a pit in which there was some fight going on. (Fight being a relative term) While it lacked real skill, it seemed very brutal. The combatants were savagely swinging at one another and the mob was shouting. Bets were being made.
“Hey, could just stay like this?”, commander Leila suddenly said.
“Yes–, uh, okay.”
She took out some sort of a decorative brooch looking like a flower and clipped it to her shirt. Then, to my surprise the flower made a series of buzzing and clicking noises. After a few minutes, commander Leila said:
“Done. Let me buy you a drink now, boys. You drink, right?”, she asked me.
“Occasionally.”, I agreed reluctantly.
“Then let’s go.”
We went to the bar and the commander ordered three beers. I sipped mine and Leila said:
“Now, look around for this man.” She desribed him. “He’s our informant.”
I scanned the premises, pretending to be doing it casually. There was no need. The informant emerged from the crowd, evidently recognizing Leila. They had a short conversation and he left. We remained for two, maybe three minutes more and then Leila beckoned for us to leave too.
Trouble was waiting for us at the door. We were just leaving, when the guards blocked our way.
“The boss wants to see you three”, rumbled one of them.
“Your boss can see me some other time”, retorted Leila. “I’m leaving.”
“You will come with us”, said the guard, with a threat in his voice.
Leila glanced at us.
“Leave her alone”, I said coldly. “She is my commande…”
“Your commander. Exactly”, the guard responded with satisfaction. “Come with us. Right now.”
Again, I made a mistake. We went with the guards upstairs. On the way, commander Leila glanced at me angrily and muttered something about whose commander is who.
We were brought to a relative small open room, which was overlooking the hall underneath. In the room’s centre was a lounge with a big, authentic-looking throne. There was a woman sitting on the throne. She had above average attractivness and wore a toga. Beside her, two large bodyguards resided.
The woman rose from her throne and said to Leila:
“You have something that I want.”
“And what is that?”, asked commander Leila.
“This trinket on your shirt. Is it for sale?”
“No.”
“Pity. I would have gladly paid for it. But you will have to part with it anyway.”
“I won’t do that,” said Leila firmly.
“Oh, but I suggest you do”, replied the woman with a hollow smile.
“If the commander says she won’t give something, you cannot force her”, I interjected. “We are police officers, representing the authorities here.”
“Oh, but I know you are from the police”, explained the woman sweetly. “That is why I ordered my guards to bring you here. Now, give me the brooch! I will not ask again.”
“Like hell”, exclaimed commander Leila. With lightning reflexes, she pulled a knife and stabbed the neares guard. A fight broke out.
There were two guard beside the woman and the three who brought us here, making a total of five in the immidiate vicinity. Two jumped at Leila, two more at the third member of our patrol unit and one at me. It was going to be a tough battle.
I quickly dispatched my oponent. Leila was doing okay, even better than me. She had already neutralized one of the guard and was attacking the next one. Unfortunatelly, the other police officer received a heavy blow and was out of the fight. The two remaining guards attacked me, but I managed to parry their strikes. I wounded fatally one of them and deflected the blow from the other. Just as I was going to remove him too, he suddenly thrust out his katana in a suicidal attack. The blade tore deeply in my neck, where the uniform was not protecting it. Blood started spilling. Shouts were coming from downstairs.
“Run!”, yelled Leila and bolted.
Me and the other officer supressed our injuries to the best of our ability and shuffled quickly after her. We stomed out of the building, my vision quickly fading from bloodloss.
And there, our salvation was awaiting. The street was swarming with police officers, strike teams and EMTs. We ran straight to them, while the police forces stormed the building. A couple of paramedics stabilized my bleeding and before I know, I was on an ambulance on a way to the hostipal, just as Michaela.
I spend the rest of the day and the day after on bed. The last operation was a close call.
*I presume Bleeders are yet another city gang and from what I gathered, big enough to be recognised on the radar.
(Summary provided by the player)
Dimitri, Orphan
Having killed a Hunter - as you remember, Orphans tend to hate those, because they don't hesitate to kill children, if that's their profile - Dimitri went back. Seeing better opportunities to get influent, he put his special skills on work among Orphans.
Which is to say, he started cooking them free meals, and making them tasty (more with good dice on the Cha+Skill rolls, than with actual skill, but whatever). Keep in mind, the biggest Orphans are maybe in their early 20ies...
Yes. It was a success. He almost got groupies... almost. His generally low charisma impeded him in fully enjoying his popularity, but he didn't mind.
And then he went on to Sexologist turf. Hey, these are the guys we agree with on so many levels...
Yup, he managed to pick up a Sexologist (that was actually roleplayed out, with me and the other players present all assuming the roles of one Sexologist - at the end, it was my chick that fell for him).
The next day, however, he went for a walk of the Orphans' turf despite the highly polluted time. And he met a guy (a Jack) who wanted money - big surprise...
He actually offered him something. "You an Orphan? I happen to know someone in this building is beating his kid a lot!"
Dimitri didn't trust him enough to give him money (and was right), but then he decided to investigate nonetheless. But while he was circling the building, he got himself ambushed by 3 Addict Muggers.
Continued drug use isn't good for your health, and it means your overall combat ability also suffers. Unless you compensate with experience, you'd risk ending up like them. That is, beaten 3 to 1 by a single guy. He ran them away, making them promise they wouldn't make troubles in Orphan turf any more, and an window opened.
"Hey, boy, good job. Want a tea?"
It was a senior shut-in, who had good opinion on Orphans. And she told him a lot about the inhabitants. Turned out, the man at the top floor actually was beating his boy...
That was due to random rolls, not what the Jack said. It was a red herring for all the Jack knew.
Dimitri went up to pick the guy when a young kid of about 12 yo went down to bring beer for the father. He got the father on the WC, and sent the kid out.
"Go out for a walk, I want to talk with him in private", he explained loading his crossbow.
Yeah.
And then when the father, ex-Night Shift, tried to be less-than-polite (verbally), Dimitri shot him. Short fuse.
And then, because we're not in Magic Death Wand land, the father scrambled to get a taser, which was his home protection. Dimitri jumped away. But then the man tried to call ambulance, while Dimitri was re-loading. And the Orphans charged, trying to shoot again.
He never did. The Taser got him well, and he lost conscience. If he had woken up, he would have discovered plastic restraints.
At least, the guy survived, so it's going to "only" be attempted murder instead of a full-blown trial.
But his lawyer is a moron. Good thing he managed to persuade him to send word to the Orphanage.
The Orphans sent him a better one after a vote. But they warned him, he owes them the wages of this guy, gang brother or not. And he gets paid by the hour, because he's that good!
Ouch!
Well, you need the best if you're caught on the scene of an attempted murder. Right?
The Boarder
He joined us recently...and this might be the last we see of him. Whatever.
The boarder is a guy who's incredibly fast and agile, despite his relatively small stature. Well, so much could be expected.
He also happens to dislike conflicts, and doesn't know the city all that well, which makes him a very rare one. But at least, he's got a well-decked out slipboard! (This happens when you're an Indie. Sure, all Boarders get a free slipboard, but the money he actually paid for to add more extras, out of his starting funds?
Our Black Med, and all Street People PCs, start out with less money in total. Virtually indestructible? Check. Jump pack? Check. Alarm system? Check.)
...It all began with a text message. "See you where we met last. There could be good stunting there".
Now, he sees part of the fighting on 145th street every time he goes out - because he lives on 145th street!
Yeah, I guess a slipboard was just a necessary feature in order to avoid the wargangs going in and out...
Anyway. He passed the battlefield like most people pass through drivethru stores, except even faster. At 51 km/h, it's a bit hard for most people to react - especially when they're busy fighting other people. And they were.
For that matter, some of them had been toppled by a Night Shift cop riding a reactive motorcycle. Yes, reactive. Even the Boarder thought this guy is driving dangerous, and that's saying something.
Either way, the PC went on his way, deep into Skin Borg territory. They had to purchase gas masks on the way there, because pollution was high this day. The cost was triple, and one of them remained behind to try and get another bargain.
They're yet to see him, but he has probably decided against the purchase, one of them suggested. It was a rip-off for the new guys, who didn't own gasmasks already.
The rest of them used a building with quite an elaborate stairs in front of it to make better stunts - continuing into the alley of a small park, where they could get maximum speed.
Except there were Skin Borgs on the place, and they were buzzed - more than usual, that is. Actually, the three of them moved to intercept the guys. The PC dodged it, as well as most of the other Boarders.
When they stopped after the chase, they found out they're one down. The 6 of them were amazed, but one explained he had seen him dropping after one of the Skin Borgs has managed to strike him on the head. He then raced after them in order to gather them, but actually slipped and fell, becoming the slowest one (yeah, he rolled a 1 on the driving roll). Well, he did roll with it, and had knee-elbow pads, but still!
So they went and noticed the guy in front of the house. It was then that the three Skin Borgs rushed from a nearby door, swinging lead pipes and skullcrushers. That was a trap, it seemed - and those guys were seriously buzzed.
It was then that the PC lead the...retreat, shall we say. Of course they outran them, but the guy was still there, lying with bleeding foot and face. Only one remained.
(He found them later, and reported he's got a telescopic in the ribs, but had managed to slam his slipboard against a Skin Borg, while jumping. Given the acceleration, that means broken ribs, as everyone knew - even through the high-tech armour Skin Borgs favour).
So, they went back. The guy had lead the Skin Borgs on a chase after that, so they were probably still searching for him. Trouble was, they didn't know how to move the unconscious one without making his condition harder.
So they sent a couple to look for a Black Med, and the rest dragged him into an abandoned house. The med, a latino-looking guy, tried to follow them with his own roller-skates, but tripped and fell, sustaining nasty injuries. After that, he refused to do more than walking.
Be as it may, he managed to help the guy... well, mostly.
"I can fix the open break in his foot, setting the bones together. I can give him something for the pain. I can tell you he doesn't seem to have sustained brain damage. But for the cuts near his eye? Go find a better-equipped doctor, you seem like the kind that has insurance that covers that. It's safer to tamper with his eye when you've got machines."
So they did. And it actually made better impression among indies than trying and failing.
At least one of the Boarders, though, was pissed off. And he asked our guy to help him stage a meeting. It began with the guy addressing them in the following manner:
"Guys and gals, chicas and chicos, none of you's a lady nor a gentleman, and I don't hate you enough to call you brothers and sisters..."
At the end, he talked around 15 of them to jump the Skin Borgs and give them a lesson. (It was especially easy with some of them... a half-Russian chick lugging a broadsword around actually exclaimed "I don't want to do that, but these skin borgs gotta learn that in Mother Russia, the board rides you!" And as far as anyone knows, she's never been in Russia, nor outside of the city for that matter).
Anyway. Our Boarder went for it, too, not willing to show needless restraint. For the fight, they decided to ambush the Skin Borgs near the Lumens, because there are always some of them hanging to maybe catch a cultist. The PC jumped on a balcony, then landed on a Skin Borg, knocking him down - and activated his Jump Drive.
Yeah, this one wasn't getting up any time soon anyway.
The only drawback? The PC got his leg broken by a skullcrusher's swing. Well, the Russian chick brought the other guy down with her swing, but it still hurt.
So the Black med actually got some more business tonight, when they carried him to the same place. The Boarder paid lots more than he was expected to, but so it goes when you don't haggle.
The Black Med
Fixed some people up, and got more than a bit of money from some Indies that needed emergency help. See the Boarder entry.
And one of them asked for a knockout drug. Why? Well, his friend tended to beat her. "He's not that bad...he just needs a little calming down when I say something that makes him angry!" He didn't say anything - other than a price and exact dosage. He also explained what would happen if it happened to become an overdose. Just in case.
(And if you think that "I say something that makes him angry" is a red flag, you're right. But at least once, the "date rape drug" was going to be used to prevent a date rape. And the icing on top, which the PCs might uncover or not? It's not a boyfriend...it's her brother. Yes, I said it's messed up).
Our doctor also talked with some kid gang. They needed some wounds and rashes taken care of, and he did so - for a kitchenknife spear. And they made a deal.
"See, man - there's these Wells, ya know? We've slept in their building's entry a couple times, and happen ta know them wife is always beating on Mr Softie Husband when there's a power outage. She tends to throw plates. So he usually needs stitches."
"So, I should wait for a power outage?"
"Nah, men - that's why we get 50% of what he pays you. There's going to be a power outage tonight. My nose can predict it."
And there was. The man had something like 12$, but the Street Doctor just said "then you'll owe me... 20$ it is, total. I'll come to collect the other 10$ tomorrow, you can just sleep there on the stairs and not risk the night city".
The guy agreed (and actually saved his life, as my random tables showed).
There's lots of demand for medical services in the city. But it's also not always at convenient places. So sometimes, you gotta create some demand...
The Freak
There is lots and lots of stuff going on with the Freak. So much, in fact, that I'd only notice the important events.
-She hooked up with Yellow. They share a common trait: a sex drive well over the top (and through the roof). Well, if you ask them, they're just bed buddies.
-She managed to find the Black Trader named Natasha (presumably a wrong shortening of the word Anastasya), which should appear in the Utopia Child write-up. That was accomplished by the simplest possible method: Remember she's dressing up Goth style. Find the nearest Goth party. Work the network to get everyone to notice you. Get the bartender to tell her you're looking for her.
Then plant a psychic bug on her guard (who turned out to be gay by the random table, and he didn't approve her hugging him while at work - but then a Freak behaving oddly isn't all that weird).
Then she managed to gather a contingent of several gangs to capture her.
This lead to our Freak learning that yes, the Black Trader has been paid to provide secondary nanotech armour to the Skin Borgs. In fact, it seems they got a -30%, which is a whole lot of money.
-She managed to invite Yellow to the hunt. That's partly why the guards of Natasha were so edgy and expected trouble. (As it goes: she managed to call him while he was fucking a Skin Borg. Well, he came to help them, but also pocketed the prize for the warning).
The Bleeder
Not so many things here...
-She keeps being sent to crime scenes by her master. That's how she managed to obtain blood from Colin: the Night Shift gave it to her. They wanted an insight into his mind.
She managed to sell it at a good price to other Bleeders.
-She kinda screwed up with the whole "get the lover of my daughter off her, because he's beating her" order. She did get him off the chick - the guy was a Day Shift, but that wasn't the issue... the issue was, he was slick and made the girl feel she's guilty for being struck.
Sick, I know, but what would you expect from a corrupt cop with sadistic leanings?
So, she used a spy pigeon, and filmed him getting off with a Sex Worker (whom she paid in advance). Did I mention he's sadistic?
When they uploaded the video, it became an instant hit - because hey, amateur porn sites liked it! And news sites liked it, too.
The trouble was, the Master's daughter not only broke up with him, she also ordered her to kill the guy off. (Her father has no idea, actually - she's just abusing her privileges).
So she enlisted a fellow Bleeder, known as the Bloody Bear (for muscles, not temperament) and they waited for him outside a bar. He paid BB with Collin blood, of course. Well, the Master's daughter owes her a favour.
-The only issue was, they didn't notice a CCTV. A Day Shift visited her soon after to ask for a bribe. She's desperately looking for ways to gain money right now.
That's about it for now. That's more than a couple sessions worth, but not all characters were in all sessions - that's how our group works, and it's not a problem given the sandbox-y style. So, I plan to stop counting sessions from now.
Either way, it's a problem to decide whether the first two - the ones we played as a one-shot - should count. There's definitely continuity, whether they know that or not!
The Utopia Child
(Nathan Trenchard – A diary by the player)Continued after “The First Patrol”…
Day 3/4
On the next evening, during my shift we received a regular call. Apparently some perpetrators had rigged a building with traps. Me, commander Leila and another officer, whose name currently eludes me, went on to respond to the signal.
On arrival, I was charged with interrogating the local citizens about the identities and whereabouts of the trap riggers. I didn’t learn much, but at least got one sure address. Just as I reported my progress to commander Leila, we received a call for back-up from the nearby abandoned building. We responded immediately.
Inside, there was another police officer, Michaela was her name, another very thin and small-framed woman and a young man, his wrists bound with hand-cuffs and sitting on the ground. Commander Leila asked what is happening here. Officer Michaela responded that this was one of the suspects who placed traps around the area. At this point the man, who was actually a juvenile, made a spiteful and angry retort. I kneeled down to his eye level and asked:
“Why did you do this?”
“Fuck you!”, he responded with cold hate.
“Why do you insult me?”
“Because you can stuff your dick up your ass!”
“And why should I do that?”
“I don’t know. Because you like dicks inside your cavities?”, was the sneer reply.
I felt pity for his clearly troubled condition and said:
“I sense a lot of confusion and darkness in your soul. You must calm yourself.”
“I am calm. You, on the other hand, all of you”, he surveyed the room, “will die.”
“Everybody dies sooner or later”, I replied unfazed.
“Oh, but your will be soon. Very soon”, said he with a menace in his tone.
“And why is that?”
“Didn’t I told you to go fuck yourself?”, the young man said, resorting to his earlier contempt-seething insults.
I stood up.
“You have something that troubles you greatly”, I said to him in a soft voice. “You need to meditate and try and find inner harmony.”
“I don’t need any meditation. You will die and that going to happen soon.”
My face hardened slightly. “We’ll see.”
I turned and faced commander Leila, who was laughing again at some unfamiliar notion. Michaela and the other cop were chuckling, too.
“Commander, do you know who this man is?”
She composed herself and manhandled the suspect, knocking him against the wall, adding what I believe to be a few unnecessary extra punches.
“All that there is to know, is that you have to handle these guys with a side order of maximum police brutality,” Leila replied to me. Then she turned and hissed in the man’s ear: “Now, tell me where are your friends, and I won’t break your head open.”
“You’ll get nothing from me, bitch. You will die!”
“Wrong answer,” she said coldly a hit him with her club. He dropped on the floor, panting.
“Huh, this one will be hard to crack” said Michaela nonchalantly.
“Will someone please explain me who this man is?” I asked, having lost patience. “Is he related to some gang or not? You seem to know his lot.”
Commander Leila looked at my helmet and suddenly a devilish smile flashed on her face:
“I will tell you, if you headbutt him.”
“No. That will be against protocol.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll let you then to wonder.”
I hesitated. It was wrong, the deed she asked me to commit. My eyes glanced quickly to the young man. Something was not right about him. But… to hit him while he is helpless? That was low, no matter his crimes.
“Time’s ticking”, said Leila. “Decide already.”
My short time in this city has showed me how dangerous was to be in the dark, without knowledge or information about even basic things. I weighted my options. What good it was to persist? A dead man cannot atone past sins.
I straightened the apprehended man and said to him:
“Forgive me.”
Then gave him a hard blow with the helmet.
“Good”, said commander Leila. “I shouldn’t pity him, though. He is a Collin.”
“What is ‘a Collin’?”
“He’s still new, isn’t he?”, interjected Michaela casually.
“You have no idea” muttered Leila and elaborated on my question: “Collin is a serial killer from the recent past. But instead of killing his victims, he download his consciousness into their bodies. Thus he copies himself.”
“He what– how he does that?” I asked astonished.
Leila looked at me as if I was some sort of a tribal.
“With mental installers, of course! Aren’t you Utopia Childs supposed to be advanced and familiar with technology?”
“We are, but… a mental installer in not something you have in your closet.”
“In principle, yes, but in this city there are a lot of hidden installers left behind since the Freedom Wars. So, in practice, you can have one in your closet, if you are lucky enough.”
I looked wordlessly at the man on the ground.
“So this… this Collin, he… he uses the bodies of his victims to make… copies of himself?”
“Correct.”
“He… he destroys people’s minds?” I felt anger slowly boiling inside me. “He denies them their life in such vulgar and abhorrent way, possibly leaving them with a torn soul?! Disrupting their natural harmony for his own sick pleasure!?”
“Well”, said Leila a little uncertain, “I wouldn’t think of saying it that way, but yes.”
Now I was outraged. Such pervesion was beyond anything I have encountered in my life. Such brutal way of taking one freedom, one’s path of creating his destiny, was beyond salvation. This Collin has to be destroyed, for the good of all of creation.
I turned gave the Collin a vicious kick in the ribs.
“Bravo!”, exclaimed Leila. “Now I like you more.”
I tried to compose myself. Leila and the others chatted for a while. It appeared that this might be a Collin hideout, or at least that was the theory. The little woman didn’t speak much. Michaela questioned her what was she doing here. Overall, I think it was just another civilian trying to do the right thing. The world needed more people like her. And less like Collin. At some point, an expensively dressed and authorital man appeared. He introduced himself as a Bleeder* elder and the teacher of the little woman, a Bleeder herself. It seemed he had some personal stake in the matter, but I let commander Leila to handle the details.
During the talks I scanned the building for a possible hideout. After some investigation, one of the inner walls of the building, which was an abandoned warehouse, turned out to be fake. I kicked it, but it was sollid concrete, yet it sounded hollow. Strange. Fortunately, the Bleeder elder had a wrecking crew on call and he went to bring them. Leila and the other officer went out front, to radio for back-up, taking the arrestant with them. Me, Michaela and the Bleeder woman stayed to guard the place. I circled around the rooms and went to what I presumed to be the opposite face of the hollow wall. To my surprise, the wall here was not concrete, but simple plywood. I picked a spot, focused my inner energy and kicked. My boot penetrated the thin obstruction and my leg sank to its knee.
Immidiately, I called for back-up. Michaela came instantly. While we were staring at the dark gaping hole, suddenly something swooshed from inside and hit my armored uniform. A knife. Seconds later, a man entered the room. Somehow something was not right with him and I yelled him to remain motionless. He did not comply. Instead, he thrust out his hand at Michaela and sprayed her eyes with small pepper spray. Michaela reeled with a yelp and stumbled. The uknown man then brought out a knife and walked towards me.
“Stop! You are under arrest!”, I yelled, tipping my sword in his direction.
He jumped and attacked me. It was short, but intensive fight. I retained my distance, so I could have combat advantage. That was a mistake. The moment I drew myself backwards, he turned and sliced Michaela’s throat while she was still stunned. I screamed in rage and charged the Collin (for now I knew what was he).
I killed him and then hurried to help Michaela. Noises were coming from the broken drywall and the place was too dangerous for triage. I dragged my fellow officer in the next room, where the Bleeder girl looked for us with frightened expression. I had little time, because new attackers could emerge any second, so I hurriedly took out my medkit and started giving first aid. I quickly bandaged the wound and reduced the bloodloss to the best of my abilities.
“Stay with here and guard her!”, I ordered the Bleeder and took out my radio, raising code alarm for officer down and multiple armed and dangerous suspects.
Soon commander Leila and a whole platoon of police officers arrived at the scene. A medical unit took care of Michaela and transported her to the hospital. The Bleeder elder and his wrecking crew also arrived, but their job was already done. We found the fake wall wide open in a concrete double-door fashion.
We cautiously raided the place, but no one was to be found. What was interesting is that in the hidden basement we found a working mental installer. The Collins had started a automatic memory wipe and it had almost finished. I urged for the process to be stopped and some tech guys went forward and tried to halt the memory wipe. They were not doing well, so I decided to step in personally and having little expertise in computers, I did the best layman’s solution… pulling the plug.
The technical team said I saved about 10% data. Better than nothing.
At the far end of the basement there was a solid metal door with a code panel lock. Presumably that’s where the Collins retreated. Nobody could unlock the door and I think even the wrecking crew of the Bleeder elder would have had a hard time with it.
We left the technical team to salvage the portable components under guard and our patrol unit took to the streets again.
It was near the end of the shift when commander Leila suddenly requested of us to remove out badges. I was bewildered, but she gave an order, so I complied. Then we went north in Skin Borgs’ territory. We arrived at the entrance of some secluded building, which was well guarded. Commander Leila took a different posture and said to us to act as her bodyguards. Hmm. So, this was going to be an undercover action. Alright.
We went inside. There was quite the crowd and some form of a pit in which there was some fight going on. (Fight being a relative term) While it lacked real skill, it seemed very brutal. The combatants were savagely swinging at one another and the mob was shouting. Bets were being made.
“Hey, could just stay like this?”, commander Leila suddenly said.
“Yes–, uh, okay.”
She took out some sort of a decorative brooch looking like a flower and clipped it to her shirt. Then, to my surprise the flower made a series of buzzing and clicking noises. After a few minutes, commander Leila said:
“Done. Let me buy you a drink now, boys. You drink, right?”, she asked me.
“Occasionally.”, I agreed reluctantly.
“Then let’s go.”
We went to the bar and the commander ordered three beers. I sipped mine and Leila said:
“Now, look around for this man.” She desribed him. “He’s our informant.”
I scanned the premises, pretending to be doing it casually. There was no need. The informant emerged from the crowd, evidently recognizing Leila. They had a short conversation and he left. We remained for two, maybe three minutes more and then Leila beckoned for us to leave too.
Trouble was waiting for us at the door. We were just leaving, when the guards blocked our way.
“The boss wants to see you three”, rumbled one of them.
“Your boss can see me some other time”, retorted Leila. “I’m leaving.”
“You will come with us”, said the guard, with a threat in his voice.
Leila glanced at us.
“Leave her alone”, I said coldly. “She is my commande…”
“Your commander. Exactly”, the guard responded with satisfaction. “Come with us. Right now.”
Again, I made a mistake. We went with the guards upstairs. On the way, commander Leila glanced at me angrily and muttered something about whose commander is who.
We were brought to a relative small open room, which was overlooking the hall underneath. In the room’s centre was a lounge with a big, authentic-looking throne. There was a woman sitting on the throne. She had above average attractivness and wore a toga. Beside her, two large bodyguards resided.
The woman rose from her throne and said to Leila:
“You have something that I want.”
“And what is that?”, asked commander Leila.
“This trinket on your shirt. Is it for sale?”
“No.”
“Pity. I would have gladly paid for it. But you will have to part with it anyway.”
“I won’t do that,” said Leila firmly.
“Oh, but I suggest you do”, replied the woman with a hollow smile.
“If the commander says she won’t give something, you cannot force her”, I interjected. “We are police officers, representing the authorities here.”
“Oh, but I know you are from the police”, explained the woman sweetly. “That is why I ordered my guards to bring you here. Now, give me the brooch! I will not ask again.”
“Like hell”, exclaimed commander Leila. With lightning reflexes, she pulled a knife and stabbed the neares guard. A fight broke out.
There were two guard beside the woman and the three who brought us here, making a total of five in the immidiate vicinity. Two jumped at Leila, two more at the third member of our patrol unit and one at me. It was going to be a tough battle.
I quickly dispatched my oponent. Leila was doing okay, even better than me. She had already neutralized one of the guard and was attacking the next one. Unfortunatelly, the other police officer received a heavy blow and was out of the fight. The two remaining guards attacked me, but I managed to parry their strikes. I wounded fatally one of them and deflected the blow from the other. Just as I was going to remove him too, he suddenly thrust out his katana in a suicidal attack. The blade tore deeply in my neck, where the uniform was not protecting it. Blood started spilling. Shouts were coming from downstairs.
“Run!”, yelled Leila and bolted.
Me and the other officer supressed our injuries to the best of our ability and shuffled quickly after her. We stomed out of the building, my vision quickly fading from bloodloss.
And there, our salvation was awaiting. The street was swarming with police officers, strike teams and EMTs. We ran straight to them, while the police forces stormed the building. A couple of paramedics stabilized my bleeding and before I know, I was on an ambulance on a way to the hostipal, just as Michaela.
I spend the rest of the day and the day after on bed. The last operation was a close call.
*I presume Bleeders are yet another city gang and from what I gathered, big enough to be recognised on the radar.
(Summary provided by the player)
Dimitri, Orphan
Having killed a Hunter - as you remember, Orphans tend to hate those, because they don't hesitate to kill children, if that's their profile - Dimitri went back. Seeing better opportunities to get influent, he put his special skills on work among Orphans.
Which is to say, he started cooking them free meals, and making them tasty (more with good dice on the Cha+Skill rolls, than with actual skill, but whatever). Keep in mind, the biggest Orphans are maybe in their early 20ies...
Yes. It was a success. He almost got groupies... almost. His generally low charisma impeded him in fully enjoying his popularity, but he didn't mind.
And then he went on to Sexologist turf. Hey, these are the guys we agree with on so many levels...
Yup, he managed to pick up a Sexologist (that was actually roleplayed out, with me and the other players present all assuming the roles of one Sexologist - at the end, it was my chick that fell for him).
The next day, however, he went for a walk of the Orphans' turf despite the highly polluted time. And he met a guy (a Jack) who wanted money - big surprise...
He actually offered him something. "You an Orphan? I happen to know someone in this building is beating his kid a lot!"
Dimitri didn't trust him enough to give him money (and was right), but then he decided to investigate nonetheless. But while he was circling the building, he got himself ambushed by 3 Addict Muggers.
Continued drug use isn't good for your health, and it means your overall combat ability also suffers. Unless you compensate with experience, you'd risk ending up like them. That is, beaten 3 to 1 by a single guy. He ran them away, making them promise they wouldn't make troubles in Orphan turf any more, and an window opened.
"Hey, boy, good job. Want a tea?"
It was a senior shut-in, who had good opinion on Orphans. And she told him a lot about the inhabitants. Turned out, the man at the top floor actually was beating his boy...
That was due to random rolls, not what the Jack said. It was a red herring for all the Jack knew.
Dimitri went up to pick the guy when a young kid of about 12 yo went down to bring beer for the father. He got the father on the WC, and sent the kid out.
"Go out for a walk, I want to talk with him in private", he explained loading his crossbow.
Yeah.
And then when the father, ex-Night Shift, tried to be less-than-polite (verbally), Dimitri shot him. Short fuse.
And then, because we're not in Magic Death Wand land, the father scrambled to get a taser, which was his home protection. Dimitri jumped away. But then the man tried to call ambulance, while Dimitri was re-loading. And the Orphans charged, trying to shoot again.
He never did. The Taser got him well, and he lost conscience. If he had woken up, he would have discovered plastic restraints.
At least, the guy survived, so it's going to "only" be attempted murder instead of a full-blown trial.
But his lawyer is a moron. Good thing he managed to persuade him to send word to the Orphanage.
The Orphans sent him a better one after a vote. But they warned him, he owes them the wages of this guy, gang brother or not. And he gets paid by the hour, because he's that good!
Ouch!
Well, you need the best if you're caught on the scene of an attempted murder. Right?
The Boarder
He joined us recently...and this might be the last we see of him. Whatever.
The boarder is a guy who's incredibly fast and agile, despite his relatively small stature. Well, so much could be expected.
He also happens to dislike conflicts, and doesn't know the city all that well, which makes him a very rare one. But at least, he's got a well-decked out slipboard! (This happens when you're an Indie. Sure, all Boarders get a free slipboard, but the money he actually paid for to add more extras, out of his starting funds?
Our Black Med, and all Street People PCs, start out with less money in total. Virtually indestructible? Check. Jump pack? Check. Alarm system? Check.)
...It all began with a text message. "See you where we met last. There could be good stunting there".
Now, he sees part of the fighting on 145th street every time he goes out - because he lives on 145th street!
Yeah, I guess a slipboard was just a necessary feature in order to avoid the wargangs going in and out...
Anyway. He passed the battlefield like most people pass through drivethru stores, except even faster. At 51 km/h, it's a bit hard for most people to react - especially when they're busy fighting other people. And they were.
For that matter, some of them had been toppled by a Night Shift cop riding a reactive motorcycle. Yes, reactive. Even the Boarder thought this guy is driving dangerous, and that's saying something.
Either way, the PC went on his way, deep into Skin Borg territory. They had to purchase gas masks on the way there, because pollution was high this day. The cost was triple, and one of them remained behind to try and get another bargain.
They're yet to see him, but he has probably decided against the purchase, one of them suggested. It was a rip-off for the new guys, who didn't own gasmasks already.
The rest of them used a building with quite an elaborate stairs in front of it to make better stunts - continuing into the alley of a small park, where they could get maximum speed.
Except there were Skin Borgs on the place, and they were buzzed - more than usual, that is. Actually, the three of them moved to intercept the guys. The PC dodged it, as well as most of the other Boarders.
When they stopped after the chase, they found out they're one down. The 6 of them were amazed, but one explained he had seen him dropping after one of the Skin Borgs has managed to strike him on the head. He then raced after them in order to gather them, but actually slipped and fell, becoming the slowest one (yeah, he rolled a 1 on the driving roll). Well, he did roll with it, and had knee-elbow pads, but still!
So they went and noticed the guy in front of the house. It was then that the three Skin Borgs rushed from a nearby door, swinging lead pipes and skullcrushers. That was a trap, it seemed - and those guys were seriously buzzed.
It was then that the PC lead the...retreat, shall we say. Of course they outran them, but the guy was still there, lying with bleeding foot and face. Only one remained.
(He found them later, and reported he's got a telescopic in the ribs, but had managed to slam his slipboard against a Skin Borg, while jumping. Given the acceleration, that means broken ribs, as everyone knew - even through the high-tech armour Skin Borgs favour).
So, they went back. The guy had lead the Skin Borgs on a chase after that, so they were probably still searching for him. Trouble was, they didn't know how to move the unconscious one without making his condition harder.
So they sent a couple to look for a Black Med, and the rest dragged him into an abandoned house. The med, a latino-looking guy, tried to follow them with his own roller-skates, but tripped and fell, sustaining nasty injuries. After that, he refused to do more than walking.
Be as it may, he managed to help the guy... well, mostly.
"I can fix the open break in his foot, setting the bones together. I can give him something for the pain. I can tell you he doesn't seem to have sustained brain damage. But for the cuts near his eye? Go find a better-equipped doctor, you seem like the kind that has insurance that covers that. It's safer to tamper with his eye when you've got machines."
So they did. And it actually made better impression among indies than trying and failing.
At least one of the Boarders, though, was pissed off. And he asked our guy to help him stage a meeting. It began with the guy addressing them in the following manner:
"Guys and gals, chicas and chicos, none of you's a lady nor a gentleman, and I don't hate you enough to call you brothers and sisters..."
At the end, he talked around 15 of them to jump the Skin Borgs and give them a lesson. (It was especially easy with some of them... a half-Russian chick lugging a broadsword around actually exclaimed "I don't want to do that, but these skin borgs gotta learn that in Mother Russia, the board rides you!" And as far as anyone knows, she's never been in Russia, nor outside of the city for that matter).
Anyway. Our Boarder went for it, too, not willing to show needless restraint. For the fight, they decided to ambush the Skin Borgs near the Lumens, because there are always some of them hanging to maybe catch a cultist. The PC jumped on a balcony, then landed on a Skin Borg, knocking him down - and activated his Jump Drive.
Yeah, this one wasn't getting up any time soon anyway.
The only drawback? The PC got his leg broken by a skullcrusher's swing. Well, the Russian chick brought the other guy down with her swing, but it still hurt.
So the Black med actually got some more business tonight, when they carried him to the same place. The Boarder paid lots more than he was expected to, but so it goes when you don't haggle.
The Black Med
Fixed some people up, and got more than a bit of money from some Indies that needed emergency help. See the Boarder entry.
And one of them asked for a knockout drug. Why? Well, his friend tended to beat her. "He's not that bad...he just needs a little calming down when I say something that makes him angry!" He didn't say anything - other than a price and exact dosage. He also explained what would happen if it happened to become an overdose. Just in case.
(And if you think that "I say something that makes him angry" is a red flag, you're right. But at least once, the "date rape drug" was going to be used to prevent a date rape. And the icing on top, which the PCs might uncover or not? It's not a boyfriend...it's her brother. Yes, I said it's messed up).
Our doctor also talked with some kid gang. They needed some wounds and rashes taken care of, and he did so - for a kitchenknife spear. And they made a deal.
"See, man - there's these Wells, ya know? We've slept in their building's entry a couple times, and happen ta know them wife is always beating on Mr Softie Husband when there's a power outage. She tends to throw plates. So he usually needs stitches."
"So, I should wait for a power outage?"
"Nah, men - that's why we get 50% of what he pays you. There's going to be a power outage tonight. My nose can predict it."
And there was. The man had something like 12$, but the Street Doctor just said "then you'll owe me... 20$ it is, total. I'll come to collect the other 10$ tomorrow, you can just sleep there on the stairs and not risk the night city".
The guy agreed (and actually saved his life, as my random tables showed).
There's lots of demand for medical services in the city. But it's also not always at convenient places. So sometimes, you gotta create some demand...
The Freak
There is lots and lots of stuff going on with the Freak. So much, in fact, that I'd only notice the important events.
-She hooked up with Yellow. They share a common trait: a sex drive well over the top (and through the roof). Well, if you ask them, they're just bed buddies.
-She managed to find the Black Trader named Natasha (presumably a wrong shortening of the word Anastasya), which should appear in the Utopia Child write-up. That was accomplished by the simplest possible method: Remember she's dressing up Goth style. Find the nearest Goth party. Work the network to get everyone to notice you. Get the bartender to tell her you're looking for her.
Then plant a psychic bug on her guard (who turned out to be gay by the random table, and he didn't approve her hugging him while at work - but then a Freak behaving oddly isn't all that weird).
Then she managed to gather a contingent of several gangs to capture her.
This lead to our Freak learning that yes, the Black Trader has been paid to provide secondary nanotech armour to the Skin Borgs. In fact, it seems they got a -30%, which is a whole lot of money.
-She managed to invite Yellow to the hunt. That's partly why the guards of Natasha were so edgy and expected trouble. (As it goes: she managed to call him while he was fucking a Skin Borg. Well, he came to help them, but also pocketed the prize for the warning).
The Bleeder
Not so many things here...
-She keeps being sent to crime scenes by her master. That's how she managed to obtain blood from Colin: the Night Shift gave it to her. They wanted an insight into his mind.
She managed to sell it at a good price to other Bleeders.
-She kinda screwed up with the whole "get the lover of my daughter off her, because he's beating her" order. She did get him off the chick - the guy was a Day Shift, but that wasn't the issue... the issue was, he was slick and made the girl feel she's guilty for being struck.
Sick, I know, but what would you expect from a corrupt cop with sadistic leanings?
So, she used a spy pigeon, and filmed him getting off with a Sex Worker (whom she paid in advance). Did I mention he's sadistic?
When they uploaded the video, it became an instant hit - because hey, amateur porn sites liked it! And news sites liked it, too.
The trouble was, the Master's daughter not only broke up with him, she also ordered her to kill the guy off. (Her father has no idea, actually - she's just abusing her privileges).
So she enlisted a fellow Bleeder, known as the Bloody Bear (for muscles, not temperament) and they waited for him outside a bar. He paid BB with Collin blood, of course. Well, the Master's daughter owes her a favour.
-The only issue was, they didn't notice a CCTV. A Day Shift visited her soon after to ask for a bribe. She's desperately looking for ways to gain money right now.
That's about it for now. That's more than a couple sessions worth, but not all characters were in all sessions - that's how our group works, and it's not a problem given the sandbox-y style. So, I plan to stop counting sessions from now.
Either way, it's a problem to decide whether the first two - the ones we played as a one-shot - should count. There's definitely continuity, whether they know that or not!
Thursday, 19 September 2013
Reading Sorcerer RPG: does it work as a manual for simulationist GMs?
I purchased recently Sorcerer RPG by +Ron Edwards from Adept press. It was in a Bundle of Holding, or I might not have bothered.
Then I started reading and went "wow" (not as in the notorious MMORPG - it was more of "wow, that's what I'm trying to tell my friends - the ones I'm teaching GMing"). Because, well, that's what I call Simulationist play. As in, "pretend to be the character to the point that you only bother with what the character is thinking - no story arcs, no pre-planned plots, no nothing".
And that's almost word-for-word what +Ron Edwards is advising you to do as part of his "Narrativist" game. Even more, that's THE game for narrativist players - AFAICT, storygames started with it!
Still, so far, I only disagree with one sentence in his advice. "Don't play the setting". Well, no, you can't do that if you need to play the NPCs...because the setting is an NPC, too (just like any other organisation)! But that's ONE sentence.
I usually disagree with half the GMing chapter in "traditional" games. Seriously, guys... ONE sentence? That might as well be written by me (no, I'm NOT claiming credit-I discovered my current GMing style long after Sorcerer has been written. I just haven't read it, for various reasons that are kinda besides the point).
And then I remembered that the OSR advice has similar points, where I'm nodding my head in agreement.
The only other games where I agree with the GMing chapter to such an extent? Atomic Highway, Fates Worse Than Death, Crimson Exodus/Fantasy Dice RPG, Legends of the Wulin, Apocalypse World/Monsterhearts. Runequest 6 also comes close. But that's not even 10% of the games I own...
Still, all of these games are from wildly differing "schools". Seems like good GMing is good GMing, no matter who's doing it. (Well, if it's "open-ended" GMing, at least. I've run games that were going against this, and the players were still happy. So it might be called "good" GMing - although I'd consider my current style to be far superior both in terms of simulation and in terms of story - but it would be wildly different).
Just food for thought.
And in the meantime, I purchased the Sorcerer supplements, and I'm looking into other games by the same author, too. He's got a KS campaign for his "S/Lay w/ Me" game (which I discovered the day after buying the PDF). Of course, I'm now a backer.
The only other KS I'm currently backing is the one by +Levi Kornelsen for his zombie apocalypse game. But that's another story and should be told in another blog post.
Then I started reading and went "wow" (not as in the notorious MMORPG - it was more of "wow, that's what I'm trying to tell my friends - the ones I'm teaching GMing"). Because, well, that's what I call Simulationist play. As in, "pretend to be the character to the point that you only bother with what the character is thinking - no story arcs, no pre-planned plots, no nothing".
And that's almost word-for-word what +Ron Edwards is advising you to do as part of his "Narrativist" game. Even more, that's THE game for narrativist players - AFAICT, storygames started with it!
Still, so far, I only disagree with one sentence in his advice. "Don't play the setting". Well, no, you can't do that if you need to play the NPCs...because the setting is an NPC, too (just like any other organisation)! But that's ONE sentence.
I usually disagree with half the GMing chapter in "traditional" games. Seriously, guys... ONE sentence? That might as well be written by me (no, I'm NOT claiming credit-I discovered my current GMing style long after Sorcerer has been written. I just haven't read it, for various reasons that are kinda besides the point).
And then I remembered that the OSR advice has similar points, where I'm nodding my head in agreement.
The only other games where I agree with the GMing chapter to such an extent? Atomic Highway, Fates Worse Than Death, Crimson Exodus/Fantasy Dice RPG, Legends of the Wulin, Apocalypse World/Monsterhearts. Runequest 6 also comes close. But that's not even 10% of the games I own...
Still, all of these games are from wildly differing "schools". Seems like good GMing is good GMing, no matter who's doing it. (Well, if it's "open-ended" GMing, at least. I've run games that were going against this, and the players were still happy. So it might be called "good" GMing - although I'd consider my current style to be far superior both in terms of simulation and in terms of story - but it would be wildly different).
Just food for thought.
And in the meantime, I purchased the Sorcerer supplements, and I'm looking into other games by the same author, too. He's got a KS campaign for his "S/Lay w/ Me" game (which I discovered the day after buying the PDF). Of course, I'm now a backer.
The only other KS I'm currently backing is the one by +Levi Kornelsen for his zombie apocalypse game. But that's another story and should be told in another blog post.
Saturday, 20 July 2013
Skin Borg NPC for FWTD
Social Class: Well
Attributes: AWR 7, AGY 13, CHM 5, END 8, INL 11, SPD 10, STH 11, WIL 8, BLD 3, BDY 4, INCY 5
Skills:
Archeology/Paleontology (5)
Boxing (6)
Chemical Analysis (6)
Computer Modeling (5)
Forensic Pathology (6)
Genetics: Anatomical (4)
Genetics: Botanical (3)
Knife Fighting (3)
Law: Basic (6)
Law: Tech (5)
Light Sleep (3)
Nanoengineering (5)
Programming: Virus (2)
Sniffing (2)
Sports (6)
Street Fighting: Unarmed (1)
Swimming (4)
Wrestling (1)
Property:
In Pockets: Switchblade, Lock Picks: Professional, Lock Picks: Professional, Cellphone
On Person: Palmtop (Organizer), 2 Knives (Combat), Wetsuit, Steel Toed Boots, Various Armor, Bug Sweeper
Body Modifications: Cracks
Armor: None
Personality/Psychology:
Goals: Abdul wants to help people and make the world a better place.
Sexuality: Abdul is heterosexual.
Relationships: Abdul wants a monogamous relationship and wants or has kids.
Violence: Abdul uses violence, but only against people who are weaker and when there is no chance of getting caught.
Self-Improvement: Abdul doesn’t think anything needs to be changed about himself.
Fears: Abdul's greatest fear is having his terrible secret exposed.’
Social Skills: Abdul has satisfactory social skills
Personality: Abdul is patronizing, egalitarian, easily confused, unable to say 'no.'
Bad Habits: Abdul has no bad habits
Hates: Abdul hates dirt/ugliness
Soft Spot: Abdul always likes/trusts/helps leaders
Personal Ideals: Selfless Martyr, Witty Banterer
Worldviews: Animalist, Buddhist, Humor
Neurological Issues: Abdul has no real problems.
Religion: Abdul is a Christian.
Politics: Abdul is not interested in politics or has no particular ideology.
Drugs: Abdul uses drugs every night, whatever he can get a hold of.
Background:
Culture/Nationality: Abdul was raised in America in an immigrant community.
Family: Abdul's (biological) family lives outside the city, he doesn’t speak to them often.
Appearance:
Ethnicity: Abdul is mostly or wholly Caucasian.
Style: Abdul usually wears an Old School Gang style.
Outfit: Baseball cap, bright red lipstick and thick black eyeliner, grey denim jacket, cargo pants, knee and elbow pads, expensive basketball shoes
Friday, 12 July 2013
[FWTD] A Black Trader operating in Skin Borgs territory
Antoinette "Big Bill" Griffin
She's the Black Trader near the bridge, who's selling "skins" to the
Skin Borgs... since recently, she's been doing so at discounted prices.
Being
the charmer, she wants to exploit people sexually.Her "speciality" in
illegal business, however, is seeling mental installation time. On top
of that, she arranges for addicts to fight to the death. They're given
impractical knives, stoned on God Killer, and sent to entertain the
public. Antoinette takes a share of the bets and the admission tax.
Recently, her ring has been exposed by a NYPD "sting" and she suspects she has been caught on tape running the show. She's right, as our Utopia child can attest.
Level 2 Trader
Social Class: Indie
Attributes: AWR 10, AGY 7, CHM 11, END 5, INL 11, SPD 9, STH 9, WIL 5, BLD 4, BDY 4, INCY 4
Skills:
Card Counting (1)
City Knowledge (2)
Corporations (2)
Social Class: Indie
Attributes: AWR 10, AGY 7, CHM 11, END 5, INL 11, SPD 9, STH 9, WIL 5, BLD 4, BDY 4, INCY 4
Skills:
Card Counting (1)
City Knowledge (2)
Corporations (2)
Law (Basic) (1)
Law (International) (1)
Mental Programming (3)
Music (1)
Network Protocols (2)
Pathology (1)
Poisons (4)
Precognition (2)
Programming: VR (2)
Self-defence weapons (2)
Slam (1)
Street Drugs (1)
Trading (1)
Music (1)
Network Protocols (2)
Pathology (1)
Poisons (4)
Precognition (2)
Programming: VR (2)
Self-defence weapons (2)
Slam (1)
Street Drugs (1)
Trading (1)
Property:
In Pockets: Cigarettes and Lighter, Keychain Flashlight, 2 Taser Guns, $30 worth of drugs and the necessary drug paraphernalia
On Person: Instrument (Electronic), Palmtop (Linework), Sterilization Spray, Drake Blood Poison, Drake Deleriant, Chlorine Cocktail, Laptop (Used), Cellular Modem, Swiss Army Knife (Electronic, Large), Cellphone (Used), Pepper Spray, Gasmask
Body Modifications: None
Armor: None
Personality/Psychology:
Goals: Antoinette wants to be a good member of her religion.
Sexuality: Antoinette is heterosexual.
Relationships: Antoinette wants to exploit people sexually.
Violence: Antoinette uses violence as a tool for making money.
Self-Improvement: Antoinette thinks she doesn't need to change.
Fears: Antoinette's greatest fear is a disfiguring disease.
Social Skills: Outside of business negotiations, Antoinette is shy, awkward or oblivious unless she feels she's holding all the cards.
Personality: Antoinette is brave, grandiose, wants to control everything.
Bad Habits: Antoinette thinks in absolutes.
Hates: Antoinette hates weak people
Soft Spot: Antoinette always likes/trusts/helps charming people
Personal Ideals: Cool Under Pressure, Mature Wisdom, Witty Banterer
Worldviews: Ponderer, Superstitious, Utilitarian
Neurological Issues: Antoinette has no real problems.
Religion: Antoinette is Roman Catholic.
Politics: Antoinette is not interested in politics.
Drugs: Antoinette is addicted to drugs, not trying hard to quit.
Background:
Culture/Nationality: Antoinette was raised in America by 'ordinary' Americans and fees pride about her heritage.
Family: Antoinette's (biological) family lives outside the city, Antoinette keeps her lifestyle secret from them.
Appearance:
Ethnicity: Antoinette is mostly or wholly Caucasian.
Style: Antoinette usually wears an extreme Goth style. She's attractive above the average, probably due to some doctor's skill.
Outfit: Spiky black hair with long bangs, white face powder, black t-shirt with a band name on it, black pants, elbow-length velvet gloves with fur fringe, shiny black dress-shoes. Sometimes, she dresses in a Roman toga instead, especially on tournaments. In that case, she also sits on a throne.
She's usually accompanied by two bodyguards, former pit-fighters that are genetically modified to be huge.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
What are your players ready to do?
After last session in my FWTD campaign, I joked that I'd give a free level in Subway Fighting* if they bring me a clip with them practising it IRL for at least 15 seconds.
I didn't expect anyone to take the offer. However, it seems I was wrong.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IltDw-I4e4g
I'm actually glad I didn't offer them a free level in Seduction, the clip might have been awkward!
Still, what are your players ready to do for a free skill?
*That's the skill in the setting of using the trains and the momentum of the moving subway to your advantage.
I didn't expect anyone to take the offer. However, it seems I was wrong.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IltDw-I4e4g
I'm actually glad I didn't offer them a free level in Seduction, the clip might have been awkward!
Still, what are your players ready to do for a free skill?
*That's the skill in the setting of using the trains and the momentum of the moving subway to your advantage.
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
FWTD: Violence, justice and the Flying Spaghetti Monster (sessions 7 and 8, or 9 and 10)
Last time, we had played 3 sessions, and I blogged about 2 of them. Now we've had one more, so let me tell you about the other 2 of them.
Dimitri
The man had a score to settle with the guy who had injured him with a bolt. He turned to some profilers (Math Addicts), and was informed that the profile said he would move to their territory for his next strike, and the likely window of time when he would be striking again.
He prowled on a roof, and masked himself. When Roofers passed, they failed to notice him, but he called them to warn them about the Hunter. Since he had unveiled his presence, and had a warning, they decided not to beat him.
He hid below the roofs and started observing. By pure chance, one of the Roofers noticed a bolt with a note. She picked it up, and then a bolt hit next her in the foot.
Then the Roofers started looking for the shooter. Unsuccessfully.
On the other hand, Dimitri had managed to find out where the arrow came from. So he sneaked there, and managed to actually surprise the guy.
It was a naked man who had had the chameleon skin genetic disor... upgrade. All he wore was a crossbow, bolts, and a small tube with something, but that was about it.
Dimitri charged him. Well, he tried to sneak, but the guy sensed him already, and assumed a martial arts stance. So he charged.
The first time, he was stopped by a kick in the chest, and his stab missed. So he tried stabbing him lethally, and missed again, being punished by another kick.
Damn, that one was tough, he thought as he finally managed to stab him in the ribs, too. Then it went his way, with the guy getting stabbed in the spleen, too, in exchange for another bone-wrenching kick. And then another exchange.
Then both looked each other in the eyes, and the Hunter decided it's all or nothing. So he waited for the Orphan to attack him again, and tried to parry and hit him with a kick to the temple.
Dimitri missed the kick, but then the guy also didn't manage to parry. So they both crumbled on top of each other.
The Roofers found them in time to save Dimitri. Nobody bothered with the Hunter, and Dimitri awoke in a room near a roof.
On the other hand, the man had got himself an invitation to a Roofers party - only natural, since he was injured defending one of them who had become a Hunter's target. He agreed, only asking them to notify the Orphans.
First thing that happened, he and the survivor (she was limping even worse than him) got medals for outliving their enemy. That was the idea of the Roofers battle general...
The medals were made out of pumpkin. Actually, they had just cut two round pieces in the pumpkin, one for each of them... than decided to cut a mouth in the pumpkin, and to put a candle inside. Halloween was earlier this year!
But as a bonus, they had a lot of pumpkin, so they made pies with it. Everybody approved them (actually, a few more pumpkins had been necessary, but that meant more Halloween pumpkins at the end).
Dimitri spoke with one of the Roofers' founders, and (probably seduced by the pie), expressed a desire to join them. She was flattered, but didn't show it, and just told him to make friends, and hang nearby. He got directed to Carla, who was big enough without the Giantism genetic augmentation, and she wanted to hear all about his fight.
"This guy didn't look strong to me, what happened?"
"He was kicking and jumping around?"
"Yeah, I hate those guys myself. They don't stand next to you to fight like men!"
However, she soon left him, disappointed by the lack of a blow-by-blow account. Deciding he's not fit to dance, he went below the roof to rest and share a joint. A few more people joined them...
And then they heard screams from the roof. Deciding to check, in the corridor they met 3 Siders. Only one of them had her crossbow readied, though, and the stoned/high Roofers were in their way to the retreat.
The bolt sailed over their heads hamrlessly, though. And though one of the Roofers got stabbed, two Siders had been cut down by Roofers swords.
On the roof, however, there was a carnage. Siders had ambushed the party, shot the guards from one of the sides, and unleashed a volley or two on the party-goers. There were probably no other casualties on the Siders' part than the two they met on the way.
Dimitri tried to help them with the first aid, then went back to the Orphanage. The guys there were glad to see him this time, and gave him a rest. It was rumoured he had found and dealt with a Hunter - one of those that picked their targets at random.
Orphans tend to hate those guys. So he's looking at more respect in the near future.
Meanwhile, an Animalist...
...was looking at his battered friends. They had gone to help some friends - from the Freaks, no less - and found that a Freak had info about a possible "Colin strain", as he put it. Seems like he was a Colin Hunter, too. Anyway, they had gone on to hunt some Colins, and did that - even captured a couple - but 2 or 3 had escaped.
Then, being animalists, they went to have sushi, by the suggestion of one of them who has been born in China, and only arrived to Manhattan recently. He was known for being prone to violence (and being known for that among Animalists means something...), dangerous behaviour (same thing...), playing Tai Chi in the mornings, and for asking people "are you yellow?" whenever someone suggested a sensible course of action that avoided confrontation. Hence, his street name had become, unsurprisingly, Yellow.
"I'm Yellow, but not yellow, just Chinese. You yellow?" was a popular sentence with him. Yeah, he's an ESL, and not really good at English, to boot.
They considered briefly how one can get to hunt Colins. Then they heard about Mauler addicts, and the PC suggested a hunt outside Animal wars. One of the others agreed.
They managed to track them - by scent and skill - and to surprise the addicts in an abandoned house. The plan was to have the PC climb to the window and jump on top of them with claws while the others were preparing to charge them.
And it failed, with the PC dropping from the window after losing balance. The Maulers attacked him.
The other Animalist with him was a martial arts freak. Not only did they break them one by one, they didn't even get hurt...at least not anything all that important. The PC was counting "frags", like in Animal Wars. The other guy was surprised, and he didn't wait to ask him about it.
"Sure, it's necessary to kill them, they were dangerous. But did you enjoy killing them?"
"You mean you didn't?"
Both stared at each other in disbelief, and adjusted their opinions accordingly-and mostly, downwards.
After that, the PC got accosted by Yellow.
"I hear you kill lotsa guys?"
"I did."
"Wanna try a real fighter?"
"Have anyone in mind?"
"Yeah, a Chinese fighter!"
So, that was a challenge? It was-Yellow was establishing the pecking order. And they squared up.
Now, the PC didn't really stand a chance, but Yellow just applied him locks to control him, after disbalancing him. Well, whenever he managed. Once, a boxing pain/stun punch did hit him under the ribs... which he amazed of.
Of course, being used to pain, Yellow was unphased, but he appreciated the skill of the opponent who had reached him. The PC, however, was crestfallen.
"Why did I lose so easily?"
"You not Chinese!"
"You're a racist, huh?"
"You talkin' bull! You not Chinese, so you never seen a real master. Can't compete with Yellow!"
Yeah, I know - the man just wanted to say he's had better teachers. But he had trouble remembering the word that's equivalent to Shifu, "teacher", and the grammar turned out to be beyond him...
"Well, you're really strong. Want to make some money?"
"Yellow never says no when you talkin' money!"
"Want to capture one of those Colins? These Colin Hunters might pay to get one of them. Or the city might pay. Or whoever."
"No! That boring!"
"Boring? Colin is strong."
"No! Colin stupid! Easy to find, just boring!"
"Stupid? I hear he's actually rather smart..."
"No! He stupid. He needs big-ass machine, right?"
"Mental installer? Yeah, sure."
"Yeah, this shit! How many like it in city? Who owns them?"
"Well... mostly black traders and city authorities."
"Yeah! Colin stupid! He needs machine. Go to one of those. Stay outside. Wait for old lady, little child and young man. They go there and kill guards. Then you kill them. That be Colin!"
"Oh... yeah. That's smart!"
"Yellow is smart. He Chinese!"
(He actually means "that's what I used to do in China..." but whatever).
"Yeah, and you're not racist."
"No, Yellow not racist! Go now! Watch machine. Wait. Call Yellow when old lady and little child arrive."
"Shouldn't we call someone else, too?"
"No! If he kills guards, we kill Colin, might take machine for us!"
And with that, Yellow went to his home in the Homosexual district - where he hunts for bi-ladies - and left him to his own devices.
The PC, however, failed miserably when he went to see a Black Trader you've heard about if you follow this blog. He didn't even think to ask to get some mental program installed, and just asked him which Black Traders have mental installers.
Then he tried to bribe the Black Trader. Not being the generous type, he offered... a whole $5.
The Balck trader brought him a glass of water.
"That's what you can get for $5. And do yourself a favour... if you go to another Black Trader, don't ask for sensitive information. Most might think you want to take it from them, these machines are expensive!"
The PC took back his money and showed him the finger going out. The trader stopped the Saints of the Corner who had reached for their weapons, and drank the water himself.
"Sometimes, I can afford a 5$ drink", he mused.
Next, the PC spoke with the Colin Hunter he knows, and realised Colin Hunters don't actually have much money to pay. So he went to sneak around the Church of Colin.
After failing another Climbing check to get on the roof - which is good, because the Roofers are enraged this day - he attracted the attention of a Colinite. He got him to the attention of Reverand Colin McKray, and the PC claimed he has always believed in Colin, secretly.
He was immediately taught the prayer to Colin and how to honour the living god/gods/goddesses. And he got invited to tonight's prayers.
He's still wondering whether he should go.
Glossary of Terms in the Fates Worse Than Death setting
Also: as stated at the beginning of this post, here are some terms.
It's the latest session of my campaign in the Fates Worse Than Death setting.
Colin is a self-replicating serial killer that "downloads" his mind in the mind of victims via technology, and "overwrites" their identity, replacing them. Math Addicts, Freaks, Humankalories, Hummingbirds and Orphans are gangs in 2080 Manhattan, and number in the hundreds, some in the thousands. Skin Borgs are an aggressive gang that's contained at 145th street. They're recognisable by, hold on to it, the fact that they wear very heavy armours (or high-tech armours that provide the same protection)!
Pusher gangs are the footsoldiers of the Drug lords, which have a monopoly on the drug market that they have wrested away from the gangs. Gangs are more like mutual protection societies, since they can't sell drugs, the city is monitored against importing guns, and the gang of Sexologists forbids pimps from working. These are, as we know, the three greatest sources of income for organised crime. For example, while the Day Shift is the corrupt part of the NYPD, the non-corrupt cops are practically acting like a gang in the setting, and are known as the Night Shift. They're also accused of acting like a gang more than like cops.
Also, many gang members are part of societies that fight the spread of Colin...while people elsewhere consider him an urban myth. But in the ghetto, there are people worshipping him/them as a god/gods (they're morons and suck, yes, if you ask me, but then nobody threatens them, because Colin might take offence). This makes Colin Hunters that much more useful.
Hope that helps.
Also, I need to remind you that there is a video tutorial for the setting if you're interested to learn more.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYoof0c9jao
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2Kj6V9rIH8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-gLwYaHOs0
As I said, FWTD is an involved setting.
Which makes it similar to all the other settings I like, come to think of it.
Dimitri
The man had a score to settle with the guy who had injured him with a bolt. He turned to some profilers (Math Addicts), and was informed that the profile said he would move to their territory for his next strike, and the likely window of time when he would be striking again.
He prowled on a roof, and masked himself. When Roofers passed, they failed to notice him, but he called them to warn them about the Hunter. Since he had unveiled his presence, and had a warning, they decided not to beat him.
He hid below the roofs and started observing. By pure chance, one of the Roofers noticed a bolt with a note. She picked it up, and then a bolt hit next her in the foot.
Then the Roofers started looking for the shooter. Unsuccessfully.
On the other hand, Dimitri had managed to find out where the arrow came from. So he sneaked there, and managed to actually surprise the guy.
It was a naked man who had had the chameleon skin genetic disor... upgrade. All he wore was a crossbow, bolts, and a small tube with something, but that was about it.
Dimitri charged him. Well, he tried to sneak, but the guy sensed him already, and assumed a martial arts stance. So he charged.
The first time, he was stopped by a kick in the chest, and his stab missed. So he tried stabbing him lethally, and missed again, being punished by another kick.
Damn, that one was tough, he thought as he finally managed to stab him in the ribs, too. Then it went his way, with the guy getting stabbed in the spleen, too, in exchange for another bone-wrenching kick. And then another exchange.
Then both looked each other in the eyes, and the Hunter decided it's all or nothing. So he waited for the Orphan to attack him again, and tried to parry and hit him with a kick to the temple.
Dimitri missed the kick, but then the guy also didn't manage to parry. So they both crumbled on top of each other.
The Roofers found them in time to save Dimitri. Nobody bothered with the Hunter, and Dimitri awoke in a room near a roof.
On the other hand, the man had got himself an invitation to a Roofers party - only natural, since he was injured defending one of them who had become a Hunter's target. He agreed, only asking them to notify the Orphans.
First thing that happened, he and the survivor (she was limping even worse than him) got medals for outliving their enemy. That was the idea of the Roofers battle general...
The medals were made out of pumpkin. Actually, they had just cut two round pieces in the pumpkin, one for each of them... than decided to cut a mouth in the pumpkin, and to put a candle inside. Halloween was earlier this year!
But as a bonus, they had a lot of pumpkin, so they made pies with it. Everybody approved them (actually, a few more pumpkins had been necessary, but that meant more Halloween pumpkins at the end).
Dimitri spoke with one of the Roofers' founders, and (probably seduced by the pie), expressed a desire to join them. She was flattered, but didn't show it, and just told him to make friends, and hang nearby. He got directed to Carla, who was big enough without the Giantism genetic augmentation, and she wanted to hear all about his fight.
"This guy didn't look strong to me, what happened?"
"He was kicking and jumping around?"
"Yeah, I hate those guys myself. They don't stand next to you to fight like men!"
However, she soon left him, disappointed by the lack of a blow-by-blow account. Deciding he's not fit to dance, he went below the roof to rest and share a joint. A few more people joined them...
And then they heard screams from the roof. Deciding to check, in the corridor they met 3 Siders. Only one of them had her crossbow readied, though, and the stoned/high Roofers were in their way to the retreat.
The bolt sailed over their heads hamrlessly, though. And though one of the Roofers got stabbed, two Siders had been cut down by Roofers swords.
On the roof, however, there was a carnage. Siders had ambushed the party, shot the guards from one of the sides, and unleashed a volley or two on the party-goers. There were probably no other casualties on the Siders' part than the two they met on the way.
Dimitri tried to help them with the first aid, then went back to the Orphanage. The guys there were glad to see him this time, and gave him a rest. It was rumoured he had found and dealt with a Hunter - one of those that picked their targets at random.
Orphans tend to hate those guys. So he's looking at more respect in the near future.
Meanwhile, an Animalist...
...was looking at his battered friends. They had gone to help some friends - from the Freaks, no less - and found that a Freak had info about a possible "Colin strain", as he put it. Seems like he was a Colin Hunter, too. Anyway, they had gone on to hunt some Colins, and did that - even captured a couple - but 2 or 3 had escaped.
Then, being animalists, they went to have sushi, by the suggestion of one of them who has been born in China, and only arrived to Manhattan recently. He was known for being prone to violence (and being known for that among Animalists means something...), dangerous behaviour (same thing...), playing Tai Chi in the mornings, and for asking people "are you yellow?" whenever someone suggested a sensible course of action that avoided confrontation. Hence, his street name had become, unsurprisingly, Yellow.
"I'm Yellow, but not yellow, just Chinese. You yellow?" was a popular sentence with him. Yeah, he's an ESL, and not really good at English, to boot.
They considered briefly how one can get to hunt Colins. Then they heard about Mauler addicts, and the PC suggested a hunt outside Animal wars. One of the others agreed.
They managed to track them - by scent and skill - and to surprise the addicts in an abandoned house. The plan was to have the PC climb to the window and jump on top of them with claws while the others were preparing to charge them.
And it failed, with the PC dropping from the window after losing balance. The Maulers attacked him.
The other Animalist with him was a martial arts freak. Not only did they break them one by one, they didn't even get hurt...at least not anything all that important. The PC was counting "frags", like in Animal Wars. The other guy was surprised, and he didn't wait to ask him about it.
"Sure, it's necessary to kill them, they were dangerous. But did you enjoy killing them?"
"You mean you didn't?"
Both stared at each other in disbelief, and adjusted their opinions accordingly-and mostly, downwards.
After that, the PC got accosted by Yellow.
"I hear you kill lotsa guys?"
"I did."
"Wanna try a real fighter?"
"Have anyone in mind?"
"Yeah, a Chinese fighter!"
So, that was a challenge? It was-Yellow was establishing the pecking order. And they squared up.
Now, the PC didn't really stand a chance, but Yellow just applied him locks to control him, after disbalancing him. Well, whenever he managed. Once, a boxing pain/stun punch did hit him under the ribs... which he amazed of.
Of course, being used to pain, Yellow was unphased, but he appreciated the skill of the opponent who had reached him. The PC, however, was crestfallen.
"Why did I lose so easily?"
"You not Chinese!"
"You're a racist, huh?"
"You talkin' bull! You not Chinese, so you never seen a real master. Can't compete with Yellow!"
Yeah, I know - the man just wanted to say he's had better teachers. But he had trouble remembering the word that's equivalent to Shifu, "teacher", and the grammar turned out to be beyond him...
"Well, you're really strong. Want to make some money?"
"Yellow never says no when you talkin' money!"
"Want to capture one of those Colins? These Colin Hunters might pay to get one of them. Or the city might pay. Or whoever."
"No! That boring!"
"Boring? Colin is strong."
"No! Colin stupid! Easy to find, just boring!"
"Stupid? I hear he's actually rather smart..."
"No! He stupid. He needs big-ass machine, right?"
"Mental installer? Yeah, sure."
"Yeah, this shit! How many like it in city? Who owns them?"
"Well... mostly black traders and city authorities."
"Yeah! Colin stupid! He needs machine. Go to one of those. Stay outside. Wait for old lady, little child and young man. They go there and kill guards. Then you kill them. That be Colin!"
"Oh... yeah. That's smart!"
"Yellow is smart. He Chinese!"
(He actually means "that's what I used to do in China..." but whatever).
"Yeah, and you're not racist."
"No, Yellow not racist! Go now! Watch machine. Wait. Call Yellow when old lady and little child arrive."
"Shouldn't we call someone else, too?"
"No! If he kills guards, we kill Colin, might take machine for us!"
And with that, Yellow went to his home in the Homosexual district - where he hunts for bi-ladies - and left him to his own devices.
The PC, however, failed miserably when he went to see a Black Trader you've heard about if you follow this blog. He didn't even think to ask to get some mental program installed, and just asked him which Black Traders have mental installers.
Then he tried to bribe the Black Trader. Not being the generous type, he offered... a whole $5.
The Balck trader brought him a glass of water.
"That's what you can get for $5. And do yourself a favour... if you go to another Black Trader, don't ask for sensitive information. Most might think you want to take it from them, these machines are expensive!"
The PC took back his money and showed him the finger going out. The trader stopped the Saints of the Corner who had reached for their weapons, and drank the water himself.
"Sometimes, I can afford a 5$ drink", he mused.
Next, the PC spoke with the Colin Hunter he knows, and realised Colin Hunters don't actually have much money to pay. So he went to sneak around the Church of Colin.
After failing another Climbing check to get on the roof - which is good, because the Roofers are enraged this day - he attracted the attention of a Colinite. He got him to the attention of Reverand Colin McKray, and the PC claimed he has always believed in Colin, secretly.
He was immediately taught the prayer to Colin and how to honour the living god/gods/goddesses. And he got invited to tonight's prayers.
He's still wondering whether he should go.
The guys from out of town...
A Neo had joined the Utopia child in the hotel - or rather, he had been pointed in the same direction. After all, the owner and the bouncer were both from his commune.
The two with the Utopia child briefly exchanged glances, and went to their rooms.
However, they ran out together, when they heard a crack. When they appeared, a trio of armed guys had just toppled the owner and were, more or less, in the process of extracting a rackett payment. The big one with the mace went to them and sent them away.
"Not your job here, little ones!"
The Sitting Oak was nowhere in sight. Probably upstairs. This was a hit and run operation, and well-prepared at that. The Neo turned back.
"Then I should go", he answered, and added to me. "To take my bow and arrows, of course!"
The Utopia child was more straightforward. And he was angry at being called "little", though the man was almost as big as Sitting Oak.
"I need to demand that you leave in peace, or I'd have to apply force."
The big guy swung towards his head, and fell down. The other one was already at the top of the stairs.
Long story short, they curbstomped the guys. Both have been trained in dealing with armed attackers (one of them with RBSD teachers, the other one by Chulukua masters, but their styles didn't even differ too much). Taking the opposition down was fast for both, their defence was good, and they didn't hesitate to stomp a guy once he's down. Oh, and once one of them released the owner, he knocked him down with a thrown beer mug.
That turned out to be plenty. So they gave them to the Sitting Oak half a minute later, when he arrived. The Utopia child had some mistaken notions still.
"You're going to call police, right?"
"What for? We can't convict them for racketeering, we ain't got all the documents and they might close us."
"But you offer a necessary service."
"Documents don't really say that."
"Then shouldn't you call the Math Addicts? It's their turf."
"They're not so territorial, and these guys haven't actually broken their rules."
"Then who are the powers you should give them to?"
"Me", the Sitting Oak answered shortly. "I'm supposed to be the bouncer in this place!"
The sense of duty won and the guy stepped aside, fully assured he's doing as he's supposed to. The Sitting Oak dragged the three away for some more "education", and then they got invited to share the dinner of the owner and Sitting Oak.
The Utopia Child was curious what the two believed in. As it turned out, the owner followed Goddolar, and Sitting Oak claimed adherence to the precepts of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Which he honoured every time there were spaghetti at the table.
Since his utopian commune didn't care what you believe in, as long as it's sincere, he was completely fine with these answers. Both were pretty devoted, as far as he could tell.
Now, both of them were looking for work. The owner offered them a place at the Homosexual district, where a friend of his was looking for a bouncer that's not some backwards guy, and has the restraint not to try and hit on the patrons of either sex, unless his company is clearly wanted.
Both claimed they fit. They were, however, also interested in the Night Shift. As far as he could tell, they were recruiting, too.
Both of them decided to apply.
They did, but went to apply during the day.
Now, the fun part is, the Animalist player is actually a cop IRL. So I'm just going to add his comments.
They got them to fill papers, and write motivational letters. The Neo wrote nothing, and asked the cop, Lopez (a big, blond guy with blue eyes) for advice. "Just write you wanted a job."
The Utopia child wrote that he's in it in order to serve and protect people.
The cop glanced at their motivational letters and told him "first exam: go find the doughnuts machine, bring three donuts".
While he was gone, Lopez asked the Neo. "Are you friends?"
"Yeah, we fought together."
"I see. OK, Night Shift will fit you best, both of you!"
And then he ate all 3 doughnuts that the guy brought to them.
Comment from my player: These guys are just like real cops!
They got to listen to the rules, how to do things by the manual (with maximum brutality when necessary, but only if you can defend your actions), and so on. Things only changed when the Night Shift started arriving in numbers. There Day Shift left many fast food boxes, and pointed them to the two newbies. Bets have been made rather fast, and they were questioned about their motives to want to join.
Then they assigned them three guys that have been hurt to lecture them about the stuff they should know. You know... don't grab a person with dreadlocks, unless you've got good protective gloves. There might be wire in them. Don't let them keep anything that might be used as a weapon-and then remember there might be something you haven't noticed, and they might pull it out and cut you. Don't get hurt. Keep guys with implanted claws at reach, they tend to be good with them. Same for Mauler addicts.
Oh, and don't forget to read them the rights, if you're arresting them. Everybody's guilty, for something if not for another. Ask for reinforcements, attack with superior numbers and tactics. Keep safe at all costs, because the city doesn't want to pay your healing - nor does it want to have you out of work for long. (And always pretend you were going by the manual in front of people, but the thing is, you must first get the job done. However, they noted the Utopia child doesn't find it easy to bend rules. So they decided to leave it to the instructors).
Then we got to their patrol. The two rookies were assigned to patrol on Luther Boulevard, with Leila, a very balanced young Night Shift, showing them the ropes.
First thing the balanced, friendly young lady did, was to attach spikes to her club going out of the police station.
"Why do you transform this weapon into a lethal one?"
"Because lethal force might be necessary."
"You said that's going to be a routine patrol."
"Do you know how many people have died on routine patrols?"
The guy looked at his own swords - he has his own, and has taken the sword of one of the guys he beat. It's actually a quite good one, being forged by the Swordsmiths, although not their best by far. And not really the same as his own masterwork weapon.
So they went, and Leila pointed it out to them.
"First test at police work. Someone is breaking the order, by urinating in public. Stop that!"
The two approached the wino. "Sir, I must demand you stop this and go home!"
"But I'm home, how come I can't piss in my home?"
"No, old drunk, you're at the street!"
"Which means I'm home."
For some reason, they haven't considered the meaning of "street person". While the dialogue continued, the wino finished his job, and went away. They found Leila almost without breath for laughing.
Their second task was a bit more serious. There was a mentally disturbed person who was shouting about the threat of the Kalor. "They're putting thoughts in your heads! They plan to take over the world!"
Yeah, sure.
In short, they tried to negotiate, but a blunder at some point made him start shouting again. So they took him down and restrained him. They had no idea how to stop him shouting, though, if they weren't to strangle him.
Then Leila walked next to the guy and showed him her "upgraded" nightstick. Then she bent to whisper in his ear, while they were still restraining him.
"Shut up and go whereever you call "home". Or I'm going to break your bones, one by one."
"..."
She motioned them to release him.
The guy actually made his roll to restore his calm in order to avoid a beating, and fled. She was expecting him to get violent.
Yes, Leila isn't the best at dealing with mentally disturbed people. Although at this point, my cop player mentioned "man, I'm almost feeling like I'm at work!"
I actually took it as a compliment to my research.
However, after that, things started getting weird. First, they met Imogene “The Dead Woman” Barrett. (from Beyond the Eyes of Madness). Leila recognised her and immediately pretended they've found a real body.
So she arranged to leave them with her. "I'm going to be looking for traces!"
The Utopia child was as steadfast as ever.
"I'm coming with you".
The Neo remained to keep her, but he was much too preoccupied about a possible killer. At the end, Imogene rose and left, leaving the two speechless.
Leila laughed a lot and explained to them it's The Dead Woman, who seeks to entice people into raping her "corpse", and has implants that allow her to look like a corpse. "That's how she gets off. And I wanted to see whether any of you would succumb, because if you're running this way, I'd like to know."
She didn't mention that they would likely be curbstomped when they got back to the police station, before being thrown out of the NYPD. But she presumed it's clear, what police department wants a necrophiliac in their midst?
However, the night was still young, when a pusher gang came up. There were 6 guys selling stuff. Leila jumped on the two rookies, and took them down, then motioned them silent, before crawling away.
So she arranged to leave them with her. "I'm going to be looking for traces!"
The Utopia child was as steadfast as ever.
"I'm coming with you".
The Neo remained to keep her, but he was much too preoccupied about a possible killer. At the end, Imogene rose and left, leaving the two speechless.
Leila laughed a lot and explained to them it's The Dead Woman, who seeks to entice people into raping her "corpse", and has implants that allow her to look like a corpse. "That's how she gets off. And I wanted to see whether any of you would succumb, because if you're running this way, I'd like to know."
She didn't mention that they would likely be curbstomped when they got back to the police station, before being thrown out of the NYPD. But she presumed it's clear, what police department wants a necrophiliac in their midst?
However, the night was still young, when a pusher gang came up. There were 6 guys selling stuff. Leila jumped on the two rookies, and took them down, then motioned them silent, before crawling away.
She called reinforcements.
"Who are those people?"
"They're working for the mob."
"Shouldn't we arrest them?"
"Yes. Now wait for reinforcements."
The first trio arrived soon-ish, and remained hidden. When the third trio arrived, the pushers noticed them, and knowing they're basically at war with the Night Shift, tried to break away. Except they were surrounded. Leila turned to the Neo, who kept silent.
"I want you to drop the first one that reaches under his clothes for a hidden weapon".
One of them did, indeed, and the guy shot him in the throat with his bow. Then the pushers tried to gang on police officers 2:1 in order to clean a way.
One officer got tackled, another got his face slashed by a machete. In return, Leila dropped a guy with a skullcrusher, and the Utopia child gave a painful cut to one of the gangers. Another got dropped by a cop with a telescopic baton, and another got locked by a tonfa.
At this point, the remaining two tried to surrender. Tried to, because Leila had swung towards the head of one as he dropped his weapon and raised his hands. She didn't manage to stop the hit.
The guy needed emergency help. They were all happy that the Utopia child has medical training, or that knockout blow would have killed him.
Their first patrol was a raging success.
Also: as stated at the beginning of this post, here are some terms.
It's the latest session of my campaign in the Fates Worse Than Death setting.
Colin is a self-replicating serial killer that "downloads" his mind in the mind of victims via technology, and "overwrites" their identity, replacing them. Math Addicts, Freaks, Humankalories, Hummingbirds and Orphans are gangs in 2080 Manhattan, and number in the hundreds, some in the thousands. Skin Borgs are an aggressive gang that's contained at 145th street. They're recognisable by, hold on to it, the fact that they wear very heavy armours (or high-tech armours that provide the same protection)!
Pusher gangs are the footsoldiers of the Drug lords, which have a monopoly on the drug market that they have wrested away from the gangs. Gangs are more like mutual protection societies, since they can't sell drugs, the city is monitored against importing guns, and the gang of Sexologists forbids pimps from working. These are, as we know, the three greatest sources of income for organised crime. For example, while the Day Shift is the corrupt part of the NYPD, the non-corrupt cops are practically acting like a gang in the setting, and are known as the Night Shift. They're also accused of acting like a gang more than like cops.
Also, many gang members are part of societies that fight the spread of Colin...while people elsewhere consider him an urban myth. But in the ghetto, there are people worshipping him/them as a god/gods (they're morons and suck, yes, if you ask me, but then nobody threatens them, because Colin might take offence). This makes Colin Hunters that much more useful.
Hope that helps.
Also, I need to remind you that there is a video tutorial for the setting if you're interested to learn more.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYoof0c9jao
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2Kj6V9rIH8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-gLwYaHOs0
As I said, FWTD is an involved setting.
Which makes it similar to all the other settings I like, come to think of it.
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