Wow, Ted looks really nice, both RP-wise and mechanically. It seems we're both in the same niche, and I would personally place my bets on you.
The styles add some nice flavor. There is even one for magicians and/or adepts that increases the DV for attacks of will. I believe the styles themselves cost 5 BP/level. Each level gives you a benefit, such as the one I have that reduces the "friends in melee" bonus, but I meant to select a different one so I might change that in the tweak phase if I'm in the game.
Each level also allows you to buy two combat maneuvers that give you a few new options in combat. They're 2 BP each, I believe. One thing to note is that they are technically Positive Qualities.
Wow, Ted looks really nice, both RP-wise and mechanically. It seems we're both in the same niche, and I would personally place my bets on you.
Thanks, I have played Shadowrun off and on since 1st Edition (I miss staging...the only reason we survived "Missing Blood" was staging and explosive ammo!), but I think there is always room for combat overlap. I think if we were both selected I might tweak to be a little better shooting wise and leave the rushing into toe-to-toe combat to you.
You've also got a whole additional area of expertise that would be useful to a group as an adept. You might want to think about a weapon focus and to switch a few skill points to use a melee weapon, especially one with reach, to take on critters and spirits.
The fun thing is, I have natural reach (troll) AND Killing Hands, in this edition, lets me punch spirits in the place without a focus. I actually was originally building her out as a melee cyber build, but then I checked the adept powers out of curiosity and noticed the really low cost on Critical Strike and her current build grew out from that.
I haven't played since the late 90s and I have been dying to play since then. I am struggling a little bit since the rules have changed and the content has grown but things are slowly coming together.
A born Bostonian, David James was born to Dwarven parents who both worked as Corporate Wage Mages for Ares, his mother, an Odin shaman, worked in R&D and his father, a Hermetic mage, worked as a captain in a firewatch team. When he was 7, he and his family moved to Chicago for his father's work. Less than a year later, the invasion of insect spirits had begun and his father sacrificed his life as part of the team who sacrificed themselves to detonate a low-yield nuclear weapon in what became known as the Cermak blast. David and his mother were some of the few people who were extracted before the cordon truly tightened on Chicago, so he managed to avoid the worst of the problems.
After they left Chicago, they moved back to Boston to live with his mother's family there. As David grew, his mother became increasingly bitter towards Ares, blaming them for the entire incident in Chicago and the loss of her husband. As time went on, his mother grew more vocal in her opposition towards Ares, eventually becoming a shadowrunner when her husband's death benefits ran out and she couldn't get work after she left Ares.
For his part, David missed his dad and did all of the things that a young man should do: he chased girls, dealt with prejudice, and tried to figure out who he was.
He was 15 the first time that he looked into the astral, and his mother was estatic. she gave him a battery of tests to determine the extent of his power, and what she discovered infuriated her: Her son had limited spellcasting abilities and no real ability to summon spirits. It appeared that her son's abilities were limited specifically to the Astral. In a rage, she called him weak and threw him out of their house. David went to one of the Ares recruiters and informed them that he was magically active. While the evaluator was disappointed as well, he did not let it show and he instead talked to David about his future in Are's Astral Security Division. He was given a full ride scholarship to Boston College, where he majored in Magical Studies. He graduated with a Master's degree in Metaplanar studies, and was tasked to pull astral security at an Ares black site: specifically one where Ares was experimenting with Insect Spirits. When David found out, he was shocked that Ares would betray his father's legacy and he began arranging for his own extraction. While he was in the process of doing so, some shadowrunners attacked the site and David managed to sneak out in the confusion. Making his way back to his hometown, David laid low until his money ran out, and then he discovered that he had been blacklisted by Ares, which meant that he couldn't get work anywhere. He drifted from one low-paying job to another for the next 3 years, keeping up a decent lifestyle while doing jobs he hated. It was during this time that he received the news that his mother had died and left him the small home that she had purchased after she left Ares. It was when he moved into her house that he discovered her past as Drasil, a well-known runner in the Boston sprawl.
He used her contacts to get a couple of small jobs doing astral recon for a location, but he has still not done a run to date.
Description:
David is a broad-shouldered dwarf standing 5'5" with close-cropped black hair and a permanent 5 O'Clock shadow. While on a run he wears a rumpled Actioneer Business suit and carries a duffelbag with sheet plastic and a cardboard box.
The styles add some nice flavor. There is even one for magicians and/or adepts that increases the DV for attacks of will. I believe the styles themselves cost 5 BP/level. Each level gives you a benefit, such as the one I have that reduces the "friends in melee" bonus, but I meant to select a different one so I might change that in the tweak phase if I'm in the game.
Each level also allows you to buy two combat maneuvers that give you a few new options in combat. They're 2 BP each, I believe. One thing to note is that they are technically Positive Qualities.
The styles are ok for flavor but they don't exactly match the real martial art. I think Palladium was the best from what I experienced. Good ole' TMNT from long ago before they were kiddy-ized, and later Ninjas and Superspies.
What?
Finn? Phineas Madigan. Harvard? It's Will Conner! How the hell are you, man? You look awful.
My family has no shortage of awakened. Both of my parents, my sisters, me. I was just entering school when Elizabeth was finishing up her Th.D. I was, at best, a mediocre student, but Will knew that. It was all parties and fun...that is, until Liz disappeared. He had heard the story before. I mean, everyone at the school knew about it. There was a massive investigation. A student just up and going missing in the middle of the semester. And from an important family? Of course he'd heard, but he didn't know much more beyond that. I told him about what I'd learned. That Liz was studying an ancient cult that pre-dated the Awakening. But one whom had taken advantage of the coming of magic and grown in power. From what I learned from her notes, they were into blood magic. Yeah, like the Aztecs, but...different. I changed my major to double in theology and magic theory. My parents, of course, wanted me to drop it. The story was that Liz's disappearance didn't have anything to do with her studies. After all, no on could prove that this cult even existed. And most of her notes led to dead ends. Crazy theories that never panned out. But I couldn't drop it. I became obsessed.
I told Will about dropping out of school. About how my parents disowned me. My younger sister just finished her own Th.D. I hear she's carrying on the family work well. No, no...I haven't talked to her in years. Yeah, she works right here in Boston. Crazy, right? Just...crazy. Anyway, university isn't where you learn things. And it wasn't for me. They wouldn't let me study what I needed to. They wouldn't tell me the truth. So I left...and, here I am. Well, it's true, I burned a few too many bridges getting here. No one from the university will talk to me. My family won't even acknowledge I exist. Even Mr. Stanikzai won't take my calls anymore. What? Oh, my talismonger. Yeah, his shop's been closed for...seems like a week now. Huh. Well, whatever, point is, no one's left. Drek, I need to find a job. Rent's due next week.
No, no. Thanks man, but I can't take that. Thanks for the drinks though. I gotta get going. Going to stop by the Stuffer Stack and grab some food on the way home. You take care, Will. Say hello to Fergie for me. Give her my best. Thanks, thanks, you too!
Phineas David Madigan was born to James Madigan and Benazir Burki, both very succesful mages who met while attending Harvard. His mother is from a rather wealthy family from Pakistan and his father is a native of the Boston area. While teh family is well-off, they aren't necessarily what you would call filthy rich. They do have a home in Newport and are certainly at the upper end of comfortable though. He carries a medallion given to him by his mother. An old family heirloom that he hides under his clothes and rarely, if ever, removes. Along with a rather simple golden ring that his sister made before she disappeared, these are among his very few possessions.
Other than these two items, Phineas travels rather light. A pair of glasses, a commlink, and a travel medkit that he picked up to handle his headaches. He also picked up a fake ID for when trying to get into some seedier places looking for info.
As a young man Phineas was an athelete, but for the last few years he's been living on fumes, spending most of his money trying to get information about any esoteric magical group he can. At this point, he's nearly wasted away entirely. Along with his father's elven heritage, he's apparently also inherited his allergy to iron.
Since being kicked out of school he's burned nearly every bridge he had. People he knew from the university think he's crazy, or at least unstable. His family think he's a disgrace. And even what few people he's made contact with outside of the university seem to have stopped talking to him. He must have made a powerful enemy along the way...or people just don't want to work with someone so clearly unhinged.
His only remaining friend is his mentor, Owl. And "friend" isn't exactly how he'd describe the spirit. Ocassional advisor, infrequent critic, but mostly just a silent watcher. Phineas can always feel its presence, but rarely has it ever made itself known. Ever since his awakening he's just...felt...it there. Guiding him and pushing him towards something. Sometimes he thinks it is to blame for his obsessive personality, but he quickly dismisses this. This is his choice. Nothing else drives him. He needs to know the truth.
I've included a really basic character sheet just to show numbers. If picked I'll clean it up and add all the extra info. I'm also really flexible about the lost sister. I know another player is planning on having a lost loved one. I could change it to a lost girlfriend pretty easily if that might work?
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Hello all!
I just noticed this, and I was like, aw, yuss, Shadowrun AND Cthulhu?
Reading the questions in the previous thread, I'm quite experienced with the lore of Shadowrun, and I've played CoC on two occasions, enjoying it immensely. I've also read two of the books (but it was a long time ago, when I was still in school).
I've also been a part of a rather short lived Shadowrun game here on the forums, with mdt, Atlas and aptinuviel (Cowboy Roy here!).
Now, as for the character suggestion, I think that no Cthulhu game is complete without a priestly character. For this purpose, I propose Father Patrick O'Rahilly, a kind priest of a small church, a pillar of the nearby metahuman youth community, and a former Crusader-Theurge of the Order of St. Sylvester, the Catholic Church's order of spellslingers.
I view his past as being heavily involved in the combats and riots in Tir na nOg as the state church replaced the RCC, and him being injured heavily in the last battle. After the defeat, he'd probably be a persona non-grata in Tir na nOg, and possibly labeled a terrorist.
Afterwards, the Church would have him shipped to Boston, as one of the few still religious locations in the UCAS, and he'd be officially relieved of combat duties. I imagine him working with locals to try and build up a community, taking mass on Sundays, and organising events with food, drinks and games for families and interested locals.
I've got a couple of versions of the character, to fit best with party comp. Seeing as there are quite a lot of magician characters applications already, I'd hate to step on anyone's toes.
The first one is a heavy combat casting focus, mostly around the Light spells, as is appropriate, and secondary specialisation in social skills.
The second is a Health mage, with a focus on personal improvement spells (Increase Attribute/Reflexes, etc), and the same secondary specialisation on social skills.
A third, in the event of there being too many mages and the GM being hard pressed to find which one to geek first, I believe that I can fit him to be more of a combat support character, with shotgun specialisation. This, however, removes the option of him being part of the Order, which I'm quite fascinated with ever since I read it.
I've got a backstory lined up, but I'll be making some changes to it. I'm quite interested in making the character, since I've had a couple of steps towards building a religious character for a while (I've no personal experience with Catholicism, or organised religion), but I've had to scrap them.
If that might be offensive to religious folk here, I understand, and I'll post another suggestion.
Thanks!
Lion, if you're looking at doing a priest who's not a caster, you could do someone with augmentations who has turned to the priesthood after his mis-spent youth as a shadowrunner or something like that.
Checking in as usual to see how things are going. I don't quite have time to go through the full applications list yet and make commentary, but I'll be with you on that when I can--maybe tonight, probably tomorrow. I can say that everyone I've looked at so far looks interesting and fun, and I'm excited to see some of the character ideas bouncing around here.
As a general note to address comments from several folks: I absolutely don't mind having multiple submissions/characters in the party with some of the same elements to them. While I'm definitely going to try not to pick a group entirely comprised of combat mages, I'm picking characters based on how much I like the character, the submission, and what's going on with them, rather than trying to artificially create a "balanced" group. In short, make the character you want to play, and don't worry if someone else has the same quality or a similar setup.
Cool. Alrighty then! I know my character is kinda generic, but I still hope I can get in!
Huh. That's kinda odd. I could have sworn that I had stretched it all up to 400 points. Checking my math again, and it looks like I only spent 362. Is it just morning brain, or do I really have an extra 38 points to spend?
Okay Sylvie, I took a quick look at your build (assuming it's the one in your alt), and here's what I came up with:
40 Metatype
285 Attributes (including your special attributes)
-5 Qualities (You have 30 points of negative and 25 points of positive)
68 Skills (you had to buy 3 ranks of knowledge skills)
8 Contacts
5 Gear (You spent about 22000 Nuyen)
for a total of 401 BP
You also had about 3000 nuyen left to spend.
I also noticed that you have twice as many power points worth of adept powers as you should have. you get 1 power point per point of magic.
Way of the Warrior. And gah, knew I missed something! I forgot to count Troll!
Thanks for the breakdown, Vrog!
EDIT: Alright, everything should be fixed now.
Just out of curiousity Friendly Neighborhood Fixer (F.N. Fixer? Effin Fixer? lol), are you familiar with GURPS Cthulhu Punk? I haven't looked at in in a long time, but there may be some useful ideas and plot seeds in it. It is, as the name suggests, a Mythos/Cyberpunk crossover setting.
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Name: Patrick Mary O'Rahilly
Gender: Male
DOB: 13/09/2017
POB: Newry, Tir na nOg (Then Northern Ireland)
Metatype: Homo sapiens pumilionis (gnome metavariant)
Awakened: Yes (Magician)
Height: 0.76 cm
Weight: app. 35kg.
Hair: Red
Eyes: Purple
Notable Features: Scarring across forehead and on both sides of hands (See DBE-RCC-07/10/2049-143). Tonsure.
Known Affiliations: Roman Catholic Church, Order of St. Sylvester (alias: Crusader-Theurge Marcellinus, see DBE-RCC-07/10/2049-144)
Last Known Location: Boston, UCAS
Bounty: ¥23,000
Father Patrick O'Rahilly is wanted by the TRC for crimes against the Church of Ireland, and is complicit in the Cathedral of Saints Patrick and Colman in Newry massacre in 2049, where over three dozen TRC troops were killed, trying to break the RCC siege on the cathedral.
UPDATE: 16/03/2053: The affiliates that helped his escape from the scene of the crime have been apprehended and turned in to the TRC.
A follower of Christian Theurgy, O'Rahilly is rumored to be nearly unmatched by any Sixth Worlders in skill in Light sorcery, and is more than usually prone to overcasting in critical situations. He is considered dangerous even by Awakened standards, and due to his small size, close-quarters approach is suggested.
UPDATE: 19/03/2063:
Close-quarters approach no longer suggested.
He's usually unarmed with physical weaponry, but post-factum information suggests possession of a powerful Focus in the shape of a golden crucifix.
UPDATE: 13/04/2051: The crucifix in question is part of a set, commissioned by the Papal state and part of standard equipment of the order of St. Sylvester. See DBE-RCC-09/12/2050-64
The rain felled heavily, the usual November weather for Northern Ireland. Or Tir na nOg, as it was called these days. The Order was hidind behind the thick marble colums, a small break from the ceaseless assault. The once marvellous, almost ornamental armour on the Fomori was shredded, the magical patchwork gray and ugly upon the gold and crimson seen among the intact bits.
He sighed heavily, leaning his helmeted head on his massive weapon, an axe in the shape of the Irish Cross, covered in quickly darkening crimson. The shreds of the oaken doors, some impaled in the benches in front of him, were covered by nearly half a dozen frail, elven bodies, all felled by fire and blade.
His companion climbed over the corpses, and quietly walked next to the fomori, reaching his shin level in height. He sat down, removing his helmet, the eye-slit in the form of a cross. He took out a small golden cross on a neckchain, possibly a wristband for anyone not gnome-sized.
Standing up and stretching his legs, he slid his hand over the fomori's forehead, and radiant light came out. "By His will you are healed, Brother Miltiades.", a high-pitched voice came from the child-like face of the gnome, an illusion broken by a tonsure of red hair. Upon casting the spell, he sat down with a thud. In a sad, factual voice, he stated. "Brother Innocentius returned to the Lord's side. He asked me not to waste effort mending his wounds. Father Melifacius is stable, and Brother Benedictus has assured me that he might carry him." He threw another look outside, the figures behind the barricades shifting slowly, expecting to strike at any moment.
Miltiades nodded, removing his helmet as well. A tired smile appeared on his face. "Eh, Patrick. We've had a good run, didnae we? I'm nae afread ta die for oor freedom and in His cause.", he muttered in familiar accent. The gnome smiled, a tear running down his face. "And neither am I, Rab. Neither am I. Let's pray for those we leave behind, and for those who we'll be forced to kill in His name." He swallowed. "And for Ireland." He stood up. "I need you to escort the others. They'll be needing someone strong to assist them. I was christened in this cathedral, Rab. And I intend to join His side here." He smiled. "There are many that wish to die in His name. But there need to be those who live in His name, too. Now go." The childish voice had utter conviction in it. The fomori stood motionless for a bit, then nodded slowly. "Then, allow me to pray for you." He took off his prayer beads, and, kneeling down, touched the gnome's head.
God of power and mercy,
maker and love of peace,
to know you is to live,
and to serve you is to reign.
Through the intercession of St. Michael, the archangel,
be our protection in battle against all evil.
Help us to overcome war and violence
and to establish your law of love and justice.
Grant this through Christ our Lord."
The soft song quieted. The gnome smiled. "It is always darkest before the dawn, Rab. God bless and farewell."
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"No chemical traces of explosives, ma'am." The rigger looked up, pointing towards the cathedral. "Proceed.", the tall elf ordered, putting on her helmet. "I'll take point, we converge on the entrance."
The TRC troops entered the hallway, quiet noises of discontent at the sight of the first two waves. "F**+ing zealots...", one muttered, before being shushed by the commander. She quietly stepped forward, approaching the overturned altar, full of bullet holes. "Clear.", she responded, turning away.
A sound of soles rubbing on stonework sounded for a second, before a high-pitched, calm voice uttered, the quiet noice amplified by the cathedral's acoustics. "May you find peace at His side." The commander turned and fired, shot going too low, not anticipating the attacker's height. The gnome raised his crucifix, lips moving in a voiceles whisper as light began to shine and blood began to drip from his fingers and forehead.
His light blinded them. His voice deafened them. His wrath charred them.
The windows blew out. The benches were incinerated. The tapestries were forever stained dark. The gnome fell, the wounds on his face and hands bleeding. As the darkness encroached, he began looking for His light one, last time.
The usually quiet church courtyard was bursting with laughter, shouts and joy. The warm autumn weather has been kind, and the few leaves falling in the concrete jungle sent a warm feeling to everyone around. Dusk approached, but the cries of excitement and disappointment emanating from the impromptu basketball court were raising higher.
"And that's three of a kind, padre.", Doc exclaimed, gently setting down his hand on the table, and pulling over the colourful plastic chips. Father Patrick sighed in exaspiration, followed by the others around the table. "I know you shouldn't lie to your confessor, but I have to wonder, does bluffing count as lying? What's the Church's view on that?", asked a sharp-dressed human, showing a face full of pearly whites at the table.
The gnome took his glass, taking a long sip of the bitter dark beer and raised his finger. "I believe it is down to personal judgement, my son. Though, it is said that one should be generous to their less fortunate neighbours, and I believe we just ran out o' beer.", he grinned, jumping up from his seat. "I'll check on the barbeque."
The ork lady at the barbeque was shouting at a mob of hungry looking teenagers, focusing on one on particular, a troll attempting to appear as tiny as possible under the verbal barrage. "...you'd think they starve you at home..." "...acting like you've never seen a soy burger..." Patrick quietly approached from the other side, 'accidentally' bumping into a youngster reaching over the barbeque. "Oh, pardon me, my boy.", he said, smiling at the shy smirk a meter above him. "You've grown quite a bit. Your dad must be proud."
"Uh... thanks..", the teen muttered. "And I'd advise you to leave that where it was and wait, for saving you from Mrs. Doherty's wrath is above even my powers.", he said quietly with a saintly smile. Patting the boy on the knee, he turned around, and something behind the wall suddently caught his attention. It is so very rare that one knows how to appear inconspicuous when trailing someone., he thought, quietly walking towards the two hooded figures, half-hidden behind the gate.
"You are free to come in, gentlemen. The doors of His home are always open. Oh, except on Thursdays. We have to clean then.", he said cheerfully, opening the door and gesturing the two in. The hoodies shuddered, one scrambling to reach into his pocket and the other falling into a threatening (supposedly) stance. "I'm afraid that you've missed the sermon, but I'm sure we can find a couple of plates and cups for the meal. It's simple, but quite tasty."
The bigger one found his voice earlier than the other, punching the other in the shoulder. "Hush, stuntie." The other grinned. "We're here for Turnip Sean. Better run along and tell 'im he's got somethin' that's our boss'" "Yeah, he's not giving us enough jack for that shop o' his.", the other added.
"I believe that the protection was raised last month, too? Greed is a deadly sin, my child. You should know that." Patrick replied, not moving an inch. "The offer still stands, if you'd take it?", he invited them in, a flash of gold appearing as his coat opened. "Look, just nab that." The bigger one grabbed the pastor, hand reaching into his coat.
The pastor's hand was faster. Grabbing the crucifix, he closed his eyes as a shining light came out of the amulet, then a thunderous noise was heard. The ork flew away nearly ten feet, back slamming onto the asphalt. The smaller kid's eyeballs nearly fell out of his sockets, and he darted away and ran. Father Patrick sighed heavily. Going to the street, he strained to drag the ork's body to the gutter, tossing the synth-leather coat on the unconcious body. "I do hope you don't catch a cold.", he mumbled to himself, closing the gate behind him.
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The night was colder, a hint of winter in the winds. Putting away the last chair into the shack, Patrick shook his head at the holes in the roof. His stomach rumbled. Ah. They deserve a warm, non-microwaved dinner once a week. Even if I'm digging into the roof repair budget. No, that one's gone. The van budget's almost gone, too. Locking the shack, he put the key in his pocket. Humming a tune, he left the gate. The ork was gone. I think I might go to that Stuffer Shack. At least it's cheap there.
Just out of curiousity Friendly Neighborhood Fixer (F.N. Fixer? Effin Fixer? lol), are you familiar with GURPS Cthulhu Punk? I haven't looked at in in a long time, but there may be some useful ideas and plot seeds in it. It is, as the name suggests, a Mythos/Cyberpunk crossover setting.
Heh. Effin Fixer. I like it. (Alternatively FN Fixer, the new model coming at you from Belgium, probably using a really weird cartridge.)
As far as GURPS Cthulhupunk, I've taken a gander, since that's pretty much the first thing that comes up when you search the phrase. Obviously I've chosen not to run the game using GURPS, because I don't hate myself*, but there are some interesting things in there, so I might make use of a few.
*No hate to the good people out there who like GURPS, some people like that kind of game. I don't.
Alright. Everything should be in order.
Lol, I have yet to ever run a game with the GURPS rules, but it is great reference material :P What was it White Wolf/Black Dog Games said in parody? Something about how the system covers everything critically important from conjugating verbs in dead languages to walking down a flight of stairs...
Tharasiphs entry here.. Dwarf Mage paranormal investigator more researcher.. has a few things that need changing and a background so he's not really complete.
This is Daniel Stewart. Here is my submission for this game...he is an infiltration specialist. Still have to complete a background and purchase more gear, but this will give you an idea of what I am looking to play.
Thanks
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Dwarf(Gnome) [25]
Positive
Aptitude(Spellcasting) [35]
Arcane Arrester [Gnome]
Guts [40]
Magician[55]
Mentor Spirit: Dragonslayer (St. Michael) [60]
Thermographic Vision[Gnome]
Negative
Addiction(Mild)(Alcohol)[55]
Day Job (20 Hours/Week)[45] (Unavailable on Sundays, mostly.)
Distinctive Style [Gnome] (Assuming it's -15 for drawback purposes.)
Neoteny [Gnome]
Prejudiced (Outspoken) (Tir na nOg) [35]
Wanted (Tir na nOg) [25]
Physical
Agility: 3 [45]
Body: 5 [65]
Reaction: 3 [85]
Strength: 3 [85]
Mental
Charisma: 5 [125]
Intuition: 2 [135]
Logic: 2 [145]
Willpower: 6 [1955]
Special
Edge: 2 [205]
Essence: 6
Initiative: 5
Magic: 6 [270]
Active
Arcana 1 (3) [274]
Astral Combat 3 (9) [286]
Automatics/Submachine guns 2 (5/7) [296]
Dodge 1(4) [300]
Etiquette 1 (6) [304]
Leadership/Morale 2 (7/9) [314]
Negotiation/Diplomacy 1 (8/10) [320]
Ritual Spellcasting 1 [324]
Spellcasting/Combat 7 (13/15) [358]
Knowledge
Alcohol/Beers 1 (3/5)
History/West UCAS 2 (4/6)
Magic Traditions/Mages 2 (4/6)
Religion/Christianity 3 (5/7)
Languages
English N
Nuyen 75,000 [382]:
Lifestyle: Church of St. Anna
All categories: Low
Positive:
Animal Lover 1
Concerned Neighbours
Friendly Neighbours
Homegrown Farming
Perfect Roommate (Doc)
Workplace
Negative:
Black Hole
Loud Neighbourhood
Network Bottleneck
Total LP: 14
Roommates: 2
Paying 80% of costs, paid for 6 months
Total: 25,344.
Misc:
Cat
2 pigs
8 chickens
Total: 750
Weapon:
Beretta Model 70
Gas Vent 3 System.
Foregrip
Laser Sight
Sound Suppressor
Total: 1,150
Armor:
Lined Coat B/I 6/4
Total: 700
Spellcasting equipment:
Spellcasting Focus, Rating 3, Combat.
Total: 45,000
Combat:
Laser
Nova
Punch
Health:
Heal
Increase Reflexes
Physical Condition Track: 9
Stun Condition Track: 11
Armor(B/I): 6/4
Initiative: 5
Initiative Passes: 1
Astral Initiative: 4
Astral IP: 3
Offense:
Laser
F:6; 20d, DV 6p; AP -half I; Range: LOS Drain Value: 6.
Nova
F:6; 20d, DV 6p; AP -half I; Range: LOS(A) Drain Value: 8.
Punch
F:6; 20d, DV 6s; AP -half I; Range: T Drain Value: 1.
Beretta
10d; DV 5p; AP -; RC 4; BF/FA;
Drain Resist: 11 (W+C)
I've not yet added contacts, but I've saved 9 points for them. I'm imagining the church to be available as a hideout for the party, and the roommates are paying one eighth of what the padre's paying, due to him being essentially the landlord. It's paid for 6 months, due to it being in sad need of repairs.
Cheers!
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*Patrick O'Rahilly enters the room*
"Roy!" A girl-shaped blur zooms over and hugs the gnome.
"Um, I'm not Roy, I'm Pat--"
"Hi Roy! I thought I'd never see you again!"
*Le Roi enters the room*
"Le Roi!" The girl-shaped blur springs over and hugs Le Roi.
"Um, hello? Do I know--"
"You knew a dwarf named Power," the voice says, somewhat muffled by his chest.
(This will be alias for the character submitted by Atlas2112. I'm still converting her over from 3e, so I beg thee a moment.)
In the mean time, I wanted to say what wonderful, fluid, lucid, articulate, and well written backstories everyone has. It gives me great pleasure that the backstory for this character, which I consider my Magnum Opus, will be judged by a crowd who knows how to write.
Please read in order. =)
Not enough. Not enough Nuyen.
As soon as they got to the bar, he just ordered better stuff and burned through the cred, getting mad that he wasn't wasted yet. He returned home and got mad that people were in his house, having fun without him. Just started throwing punches.
"Hey, kid, keep it down."
"Whaaaha?" she stammered, her tears surrendering to her growing confusion. She'd walked many blocks, and saw she was near an alley she ought not be near.
"Keep it down," he repeated, 'he' being a devastatingly handsome older boy of 15 years. He had sea-blue eyes and harvest-wheat hair. "You can cry up a storm later but right now--" his words were cut off as an angry dwarf appeared out of nowhere.
"HEY!" yelled the dwarf. "There you are! Where is it? She got it? Your partner got it? Give it here!" he thundered, stalking toward her.
Without thinking she brought up her taser ('no, srsly, don't leave home without it') and fired. At this range she couldn't miss. The dwarf spasmed twice, wet his pants, and dropped.
As if on cue a pretty elfin girl ran up to them, stopped at the boy. "Oh, hey, I got the stuff! Ooooo, looks like you took care of him good already. Wizard!"
"Actually, Spirit," said the beautiful boy, "our...new friend here did the honors. Good job, kid. I guess that means you get a share. We're gonna go fence it, if you wanna come along we can pay you now."
Anya looked at them, eyes wide in pure, unadulterated wonder. She rubbed her eyes, smearing her running mascara even more, and, hypnotically, said an extremely witty, "Yeah."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Derrick."
She didn't have anything to say. She'd worked hard, gotten better, got some gear, ran with some third-tier gangs, but she wasn't good enough for his crew.
After he left, she made a phone call.
Next time she'll be better.
As he passed Anya all he said was, "You were too slow." The look in his eyes, the hurt...she couldn't bear it. Okay, he had loved Spirit. Okay, she hated her for that. But she didn't deserve to bite it. Especially not like that.
Everyone else had got out. And the run had paid well.
She made a call. She'd -be- better.
"All the intel says the security is gonna be diverted, and all we have to do is break in, grab one thing, and get gone. Someone else is doing the heavy lifting, we just gotta be the net. I know all of you are thinking that I'm bringing on too many hands for so simple a grab, and are worried about the payday. But trust me on this one, it ain't gonna matter!"
Frag he was happy.
"Hey, Derrick," called RockOn, "What exactly are we 'just grabbing'? Is it heavy?"
"Absolutely not," he answered. "By all accounts it's just some bottle. A very ,very valuable one, to be sure, but just a bottle. Let's roll!"
****elsewhere****
"Greetings, Lord Borak. I'm sure you'll find that--"
"Shut up," he said, walking down the column-filled corridor, his pearl-inlaid boots making soft clacking sounds on the immaculate marble. While being an orc made people doubt his magical power, it made ordering lackeys much easier. "Every moment I'm here is one more moment I'm not in Erie getting fed grapes by naked elven princesses. I'm here to re-lay a collapsing magical barricade that thinks it's going to usher in the next EarthDawn. If everything is NOT according to my explicit instructions I'm going to start killing people until they are. Speak again and I'll set your vocal chords on fire."
Lord Borak the Despoiler had a lot of work to do. He hated interruptions.
**********************
"Okay, Anya. You grabbed it. Now hang on to it!"
Derrick was beaming. They did it. They FRAGGING DID IT! The object of the run, the bottle, was in her pack. All they had to do was get out.
came a booming voice from down the marble hall. The end of the hall where the exit was.
Derrick looked at the focus-speckled orc that was confidently striding down the hall. "He...he isn't supposed to be here."
Somebody opened fire. Then everybody did.
"And here I thought this would be boring," said the orc.
****************
Everyone died.
Except her.
No bullet could touch him. No weapon could harm him. He killed them all.
She just...ran. Ran past him. Through the fire and the flames and the horrible blue light she ran.
Derrick had been open about where the meet with Mr. Johnson was. She presented the bottle.
Dispassionately he handed over the credstick. There were.... so. many. zeroes.
"Our business is concluded," Mr. Johnson said. Of course it was.
But she had lost him. Lost Derrick, lost everything.
She made a call.
She wouldn't just be better. She'd be...everything.
"Just go," whispered Derrick. He sheathed his pistol and walked away.
She bought the first ticket heading out.
Of course she'd come back. She had to get Derrick back. She knew how. She owed him a quarter of a million cred. There had to be a way.
The jovial man in a nice suit sat down heavy next to her. He offered a hand and a smile in that way that corporate people do. "Hi there. My name's Propoket."
She didn't want to make small talk, but she had to. She didn't want to offer her name. She wasn't Anya. She was just...nobody. A ghost.
"Hi there yerself. I'm Wraith."
Yeah, there has been some great response to this, and I'm totally wanting to do some Shadowrun. So even if I don't get into this particular game, I may need to resurrect an old storyline I sketched out and run my own game. I really don't know that I have the time and energy to run a game yet though :(
I had forgotten about the expanded lifestyle rules, so if I'm in I might need to do some tweaking just to add flavor to my home.
Background and equipment done (for the moment). Hey, looks like we have the old gang here!! Maybe should have revived Hepcat!!!
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Hey there all!
I have to say, the 4th ed is a bit less of a murky waters to me. Ol' Roy's first incarnation was in 4th, with me negotiating with the GM to double the BP limit for negative and positive qualities, with the agreement of no magic or augments.
I first considered applying with him, but I took a quick read through Street Magic and the Christian Theurgy stood out, from then on it was just combining what an Eastern European knows of Boston and Catholicism.
I'm mostly proud of combining Overcasting and stigmata. Make of this what you will.
Well it looks like a really diverse group of runners! Best of luck to you all...it will be an awesome game.
That's really the beauty of Shadowrun: even characters who fill the same role can be vastly different.
Which is a good thing, because there is a slightly disproportionate number of mages here.
Alright, here's the list so far of everyone that has a character. If I've missed you or misjudged your type, please let me know!
Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite - Bruiser (Adept)
Victoria "Nix" Bateson - Infiltration (Augmented)
Argent - Astral Magician
Nicholas "Nick Sarge" Smith - Soldier (Augmented)
Twitch - Infiltration/Social (Adept)
Tall Ted - Bruiser/Soldier with some Driving Skills (Augmented) Phineas "Mad Finn" Madigan - Support/Infilitration Magician Patrick "Father Pat" Mary O'Rahilly - Combat Magician
George Wilcox Thurston - ??? Magician
Le Roi - Infiltration (Augmented)
Anya "Wraith" Whiteangel - Soldier (Augmented)
George is a magician, paranormal and magical researcher of the english druid order.
He's really inexperienced but he has a friend that has advised him on all the toys you need to run with.
Still a work in progress.
Argent is at best a dual-natured critter.
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First thing first:thanks for compiling the list, Doomkitten!
About if you misjudged Nick, well he looks as a kind of soldier. If you go deeper he is an interrogating, luckless, tough and intuitive son of a b!@*!. And a crackshot with a semi pistol.
So yeah, soldier works for the list. But he doesn't like brass, either in military or police: "Anybody above the rank of Sergeant is out to screw you. Period."
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Nick Sarge during his police days
Crouching behind the table, Private Investigator Nicholas Smith was wondering if his current case was going to pay off.
Typical stuff, mind you, the daughter of a local chum had ran off with a ganger.
Modern Romeo and Juliette with less pedantic words and a couple more drugs.
"How can people be so stupid because of love? You ain't no one to judge, Nick. You get real stupid when involded with babes." the man said to himself with a sad smile, a picture of a beautiful redhead appearing in his mind... and in his cybereyes.
Hope she does better without me, my job was slowly killing her inside...
The literal flashback cut by another bullet slamming in the opposite wall, Nick started the link on his smartgun and prepared for the metaphorycal drek to hit the not so metaphorycal fan.
"Oi, bo! I ain't getting paid enough to bleed for you, but I will kick your drek in for free if you don't handle the chick and stop this bulldrek!"
For answer, another burst slammed around him.
Should have studied to be a lawyer... but no, I had to follow Lieutenant Smith's path. Mama was right: Ain't no luck for the Smiths, only the one they make for themselves.
The table started to look like cheap soycheese, and Nick was starting to regret having woke up that morning when the proverbial luck appeared to his eyes: rolling down the floor a bottle of nice scotch stopped against his foot. Bottled courage, his poison of choice.
Opening the bottle, Nick Sarge smiled before drinking.
"It won't be another shitty day in this hellhole of a city afterall..."
And he stood.
Former Sergeant Nicholas Smith, 38 years old, retired from service with dishonour after disobeying a direct superior's order.
"Bastard Lieutenant got the balls to involve me in his dealings and kick me out after refusing."
Previously married to Rosalynd O'Connor, 34 years old, wageslave to Ares Co. Divorced after the accident.
"She had the brain of a decker with the beauty of an angel... but my luck ran out."
Obtained a Legal Private Investigation License, coupled with the usual Firearm Possesion and Concealed Carry. Office declarated as his own residing flat.
"I wore the blue for 19 years, old dogs learn no new tricks... plus you gotta admit having no boss is pretty wiz."
While on investigative duty, Nicholas Smith suffered multiple moderate burns in his face, as well as serious muscle tissue damage. The incident involved a explosion inside a chemical storage building. No additional survivors found, only three corpses. Nicholas Smith was cleared of all guilt after reviewing security footage of nearby buildings.
"I remember the burning sensation, and the itching... next time I WILL geek the mage first."
As a result of said accident, Nicholas Smith had to endure surgical processes to replace and repair damaged body parts. Both eyes were replaced with cyberware, as well as the tissue affected and a section of his spinal cord.
The costs were fully payed by former partner Sebastian Hollowitz, known friend of Nicholas Smith.
"Hey, at least I am no chrome. And gotta give that to augs: they do work. But the pain... I can't shake the pain off."
Frequent visits to nearby gambling and booze-selling establishments. Daily buying of liquours.
Diagnosed alcoholism, albeit of a not so advanced state.
"Frag off. I won't comment on that: My liver, my live, my ruling."
Nick knocked on the door, but he wasn't going to wait, it was a polite way of telling he was going in.
Nick walked inside and straight to the glasses and bottles sitting on a table to his right.
"The chick is back at his dad's. Next time tell me who am I dealing with, Frank. But there will be no next time." he said without looking as his interloper.
"And what you gonna do, Nick? Wear the blue again? Don't drek me, chum. You need this as much as you need that." answered the dwarf, pointing at the whiskey glass Nick was downing.
"I've got nuff of these hoop fragging chums on these hoop fragging hood. I ain't getting payed enough to die. Gotta look for a plain old job, Corps pay well to security officers with ample experience and- "
"And being a wageslave? Don't shit me, Nicholas, you won't last a week. You aren't used to being directed. And Corps tie short lashes to their workers." interrupted him the dwarf as he lighted a cigar. "Look, I know an elf that knows a man... that man knows another man. What I'm getting at is you can make fat stacks... but job won't be easy."
"Shoot already, Frank, I won't waste my whole day with your dramatic sense." he said before putting down the glass.
With a wicked grin, the dwarf named Frank noted down something on a paper and passed it to former PI Nicholas Smith. "Tell me, Nick... what do you know of Runners?"
Nick grabbed his glass again and downed the rest at once. "F~!+ my life..." he muttered "Gotta make my own luck, ain't it?"
Phineas "Mad Finn" Madigan - Support/Infilitration Magician
Thanks for the list! I'm not sure I'd describe Phineas as a infiltration magician, other than he does actually have a single spell that could help. I think the issue here is that he fits a cthulhu archetype, not a shadowrun one. He's an obsessed-with-the-occult academic who can't leave well enough alone.
Tall Ted would be the soldier searching for his lost sister.
Nick would be the ex-cop private investigator that gets caught up in the wrong case.
Twitch is a cat-burglar that always manages to find trouble by being in the wrong place at the most interesting time.
But as far as shadowrun archetypes go, Phineas can be a support/infiltration mage. I mean, without a weapon, that's about the only thing he'd be useful for. :)
We do seem to be missing a decker(or hacker)/rigger, which makes me sad. This game would be perfect for the hacker obsessed with conspiracy theories. And hackers, in 4th edition, might as well also be drone operators. Or the wilderness survivalist that's gone all hermit to get away from the cities and the scary things hidden underneath the surface. Or a face...of any sort. (Unless I missed these. I have, admittedly, had little time to read backgrounds thoroughly.)
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Phineas "Mad Finn" Madigan - Support/Infilitration Magician... He's an obsessed-with-the-occult academic who can't leave well enough alone.
Tall Ted would be the soldier searching for his lost sister.
Nick would be the ex-cop private investigator that gets caught up in the wrong case.
Twitch is a cat-burglar that always manages to find trouble by being in the wrong place at the most interesting time.
I can only but totally agree with what Mad Finn has said, and I'm glad because that means the concept I was aiming for actually hit its target.
I don't think the group needs a rigger/decker, but one that is consumed by his most obscure thoughts and writes/paints about the conspiracies he believes in would be nice and also flavourful.
Regarding the face... well, unless we need to socialize Nick can break a few fingers and get information. I mean, subtlety doesn't have to be our schtick.
I don't think the group needs a rigger/decker, but one that is consumed by his most obscure thoughts and writes/paints about the conspiracies he believes in would be nice and also flavourful.Regarding the face... well, unless we need to socialize Nick can break a few fingers and get information. I mean, subtlety doesn't have to be our schtick.
Yeah, I agree, I don't think we need a rigger/decker, but it just seems like a game screaming for one. As for social stuff, there are a few submissions with a few social skills (Phineas can cover it a bit with his elven charisma). It was just interesting to see that no one was interested in a social character. I've found them to be very popular in 4th edition games that I've played in.
Also, drones are how damage is done in 4th edition. ;)
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Plus, remember that people will most likely develop their character skills in play, even if it'd be secondary spec at best. There's applications with nearly every stat up to the max. (Edge seems to be a glaring exception.)
Father Pat's relatively decent at Negotiation and Etiquette, but he's a bit rusty (indicated by the low ranks and high total).
EDIT: I was just looking at Foci, and their restriction ratings. It's Force x4 for most, and Force x5 for the Power and Weapon ones, so that limits the starting ones to 3 for spellcasting and 2 for Power and Weapon. You'd need Restricted Gear as a Positive Quality, if you want higher ratings than that.
Thanks for the new info, guys! I made a few changes.
Sylvie "Gauntlet" Staite - Bruiser (Adept)
Victoria "Nix" Bateson - Infiltration (Augmented)
Argent - Astrally Aspected Magician
Nicholas "Nick Sarge" Smith - Soldier/Tough Social (Augmented)
Twitch - Infiltration/Social (Adept)
Tall Ted - Bruiser/Soldier with some Driving Skills (Augmented)
Phineas "Mad Finn" Madigan - Support/Infilitration Magician
Patrick "Father Pat" Mary O'Rahilly - Combat Magician
George Wilcox Thurston - ??? Magician
Le Roi - Infiltration (Augmented)
Anya "Wraith" Whiteangel - Soldier (Augmented)
I'll start writing up something to get Sylvie more involved in Mythos stuff. Getting entangled in a Big A conspiracy seems like a good start...
I have like one skill level in ground vehicles :P So "Some driving" is literally that! It can be useful to have a backup driver though, so that is another thing that I might tweak if selected.
Actually, I'm working on a social character. I'm sorry that it's been a bit, but I had crap going on at work, major changes to my RL games, and none of the concepts I had were working out until this morning.
I will be playing a troll social adept. He's the type of guy who doesn't follow social norms, but people just tend to make exceptions for him. He'll crash a formal wedding in biker leathers, convince the bride to give him a lapdance, Seduce both the maid of honor and the groom's mother and everybody will go on for years about what a great night it was.
I should have him submitted Saturday or Sunday.
”You know, Fix, I hate it when you interrupt when we snuggle. Snuggling-time is sacred,” Sylvie grumbled, throwing open the apartment door.
Mr. Fix-It, slick as always in his pinstripe Actioneer suit, threw up his hand in front of his black shades. ”Gauntlet! Jeez, throw on a bathrobe or something. Your girlfriend may be into your flabby ass, but I’m not.”
”Do you really think I have a bathrobe, Fix? At least be glad I have enough nuyen to buy a bra and panties in my size.” Sylvie asked rhetorically, before lumbering over to the kitchen. ”Soykaf?”
”Sure, sure. Is it just me, or have you put on even more weight since I’ve last seen you?” The human sat down on one of the folding chairs, straightening his tie and dusting off his pants.
Sylvie gave a loud sigh as the soykaf machine stuttered to life. ”You’re not imagining it, Fix. With Bear, I either pack on a few extra pounds whenever he gives me a gift or I start growing hair in unexpected places. I’d rather be a bit overweight than start growing a full beard.”
”A bit?”
”Okay, a lot,” Sylvie admitted as she wandered back into the living room, two steaming, chipped mugs of soykaf in her massive hands. With surprising grace, she handed one to Fix, who took it and immediately began taking sips from it. Sylvie, with great care, settled herself in an especially reinforced couch designed to accommodate her bulk.
”You sure you want to keep this deal with Bear you got, Gauntlet? It’s not going to be much longer before you have to stop having sexyfuntimes with Devi at this rate, warez or no.”
Sylvie rubbed the bridge of her nose. ”Look, Fix, I’m glad you’re concerned. But this ‘flab’ is surprisingly… resilient, for lack of a better word.”
Fix snorted. ”Fair point, Gauntlet. I mean, you’re the only person I know who can take a shot from a Super Warhawk point blank while buck naked and not even flinch.”
”I still have that piece as a souvenir, y’know.”
”Damn straight. Look, as much as I enjoy your company, and I have no doubt that the feeling’s mutual, you know I only do house calls when I have a seriously wiz gig coming up.”
Sylvie nodded, leaning forward. ”Alright. Lay it down, Fix.”
”Full disclosure, this one comes straight down from Saeder-Krupp.”
Sylvie’s brow furrowed. ”Fix, you have ten seconds to explain why I shouldn’t go back to snuggling with Devi right now. You know that this breaks one of the first pieces of advice you gave me, right? ‘Watch your back, conserve ammo, and-’”
Fix finished her sentence. ”’-never, ever deal with a dragon.’ Yeah, I know, Sylvie. But this will pay your rent for the next year, and if it goes well, we’ll be in Lofwyr’s good books.” The human grimaced. ”And we both know that I have no choice but to get somebody for this run. I'm either Big L’s entree, or the fixer for the runner that stole a valuable piece of biotech from Azzie.”
”That’s strike two, Fix. I don’t want to be sacrificed to some ancient god or something.”
”One hundred thousand nuyen.”
Sylvie hesitated for a moment. ”There’s something you’re not telling me, Fix.” Another pause. ”Split how many ways?”
”Probably,” Mr. Fix-It admitted. ”Four. Split four ways. But that will cover… everything, for a year. Maybe you can even join Weight Watchers.”
Sylvie grumbled. ”Laugh it up, chuckles.” Sylvie took one deep breath.
Two.
”Alright. Where’s the meet?”
Fake SINner Falco "Volt Raptor" Bolt - I am a Drone Rigger Runner with Ground Vehicle and Ground Pounding Operational Training. And this uncouth, c*nt eatin', Drone Operator isn't a p***y to enter the fray and bleed a little with you all either. And I have a bone to pick with them slime covered octo-head pieces of s**t for ruinin' my childhood! Even though, I may not know our run is against an aberration ... lol
And for you elitist Mage types, I went to original MIT of MIT&T, again the original MIT of MIT&T, but was kicked out because I stole the security protocols for the school's wireless system then used drones to spy on them nice and tight female students and faculty. Hmm baby, I still have good videos they couldn't get their hands on!
Honestly, Victoria has at least a little skill in just about everything other than driving and social skills. Primarily because she never bothered to get proper driving lessons and she has the people skills of a brick. So she can handle some computer stuff, though she's nothing compared to a dedicated decker.