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Post by shasta on Sept 20, 2006 19:13:20 GMT -5
Yeah, okay, so the opening is a little cliched, but then again, that's kinda the point. I've been surfing around these here boards for the last few days, but haven't yet seen a game I felt comfortable just slotting myself into. So, I decided to start my own. And with a heading like this thread has, I figure anyone who's been reolplaying since the age of 11 like myself will recognise it as the start of a new campaign.
Okay, housekeeping:
1. This is intended as a low-level starter - noob characters only, no veterans. Note this applies to characters only; players can be anything from people who just wandered in and made themselves a charater to people who knew the price and specs of a Fuchi Cyber VI since they were in nappies.
2. The main setting (at least until we really get the ball rolling) is the Pullyup district of Seattle - low income, low rent, plenty of gang violence, and a little organised crime to taste. So if you're wanting to play a rich-kid, prepare to go slumming.
3. I'm looking for 3-4 players to start. I don't care what kind of characters you play; I'll be tailoring the runs to your skill set, and remember, you can always sub-contract out whatever work you cant handle to your contacts.
4. Expressions of interest will be accepted in the form of posts replying to my next one (a generic intro for a meet with a Johnson). Just jump straight in and start roleplaying, if you think this campaign is for you.
A quick note to the people running the boards - I wasn't to sure where to start this, so I figured I'd get some interest in here, then maybe go on to one of those game room thingy's you guys have. Sorry if I'm stepping on someone's toes by posting this here, but I haven't roleplayed even IRL for a year or so, and I got the DT's....
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Post by Braddoc on Sept 20, 2006 19:15:44 GMT -5
((oi, nice one man..and in Puyallup! always fun to play in..and what's your definition of a veteran character? like 5+ runs under his blet?)
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Post by shasta on Sept 20, 2006 19:17:10 GMT -5
A light rain falls over the Seattle night skyline, lending a fey air to the lights of the corporate towers that cluster worriedly around the brooding pyramid of the Renraku Arcology. It looks almost peaceful....
Which is more than can be said for the alley you're standing in. The Rusty Nail is not exactly the watering hole of choice for Seattle's elite, but cred is short for a new runner in the plex, and you've got a line on some work. Ignoring the trash - both literal and (meta)human - in the street outside, you start to step up to the entrance. As you reach for the handle, the door bursts open, and a body sails out, landing in a heap, head in the gutter. Turning back, you see massive figure step out after it.
"Ah've tole you bifore, boy, yi can't go tryin ta start somethan' in mah place, or ah'll be the one that finisht it. Ya git me, boy?"
An ork stands in the doorway. As he steps into the light, you amend your though - ork running for troll, frag - and he steps past you to kick the unfortunate troublemaker in the ribs. "You better git chore ass in here tomorra and fix up your tab, too, boy, or I'm gonna come lookin fer you.... andju don't want that!"
Turning back towards the door, the oversized ork seems to notice you for the first time. "Standin out in the rain never did no one no good, pardner," he drawls. "You commin in or what?" With that he turns and heads back into the bar.
Slightly bemused, you follow the wide, retreating back of the ork into the bar. A pall of stale smoke hangs over the place. There are no overhead lights in the place. Instead, tables are lit by small pools of light from nearby stand-lamps. Old rock music pours from the speakers around the walls like old whiskey, dark and rich.
You turn naturally toward the brightest part of the dive; the bar. Standing behind the bar is a casually dressed troll, about the same size as the ork you saw outside. The ork appears to have pulled a vanishing act.
"Hoi, chummer. Name's Tiny. What can I get you?" asks the troll, lumbering up to your spot at the bar. You throw a glance in his direction and decide that, despite the fangs, that grin is probably supposed to be friendly...
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Post by shasta on Sept 20, 2006 19:19:52 GMT -5
Preferably no more than 1 or 2 runs, although I prefer tabula rasa; I have the time to run a campaign, just, I don't have the time to run round all the other threads chasing up bits of peoples history I need to be aware of. From what I've been reading, Four-eyes is probably a little too advanced, but feel free to slap together another character and jump on in, man.
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Post by Braddoc on Sept 20, 2006 19:21:11 GMT -5
'Tell you the truth, I got alot going on right now, don't think I can add another char..but meh..can always work one in my spare time here and there...
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Post by shasta on Sept 20, 2006 19:27:42 GMT -5
Oh, yeah, almost forgot;
5. 3rd ed only. Down under its damn hard to get 4th ed stuff, but between me and my flatmate, we got just about all the 3rd ed main books, as well as some of the fringe stuff.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2006 15:27:03 GMT -5
" I'll have a pint and a shot . Have to warm up a bit from the rain ." Skidds looks around the bar . Thinking nicer the the usual bars I've been in . Things are always nicer top side .
Skidds picks up his drinks and heads for a table. Be nice if my Fixer told me who to ask for for this meet . Oh well the beers cold and I've got enough for 2 or 3 more . And it's alway nice to get the Shark out on the road .
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Post by infinite on Sept 25, 2006 18:30:34 GMT -5
"I don't drink, that shit'll ruin your mind. " Walking past the startled ork barkeep to seat himself at the far corner of the bar, his back to the wall, he flips his long coat open to free the Browning pistol on his hip as he sits. The seat gives a clear view of the points of entry and exit to the bar.
This ought to break up the boredom since Mateus lost his old partner.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2006 23:02:06 GMT -5
" If you come to a place like this , it helps to drink . Just not to get drunk . Well sence I didn't ask ya to sit I quess I will now ." Saying with a guarded smile ."Have a seat in this fine bar and have a drink ........ of water ? Names Skidds . Yours ? " Raising an eyebrow .
Skidds look around to see if anyone else is displaying the firepower so openly . Just what I need . Heat before the job even starts .
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Post by infinite on Sept 26, 2006 9:26:53 GMT -5
"I suppose a drink of water won't hurt. My name is Mateus Donigarten, battle mage for hire. Don't look so worried, though, I'm just a bit edgy since a buddy of mine bought it a while back." Extends his right hand to shake.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2006 10:58:24 GMT -5
" Nice meeting you Mateus . As I said the name Skidds . I'm a Rigger " while extending his right hand .
" I see you like the browning . It's a good hand gun . But I prefer a touch of the old west . I like the Warhawk . Not as many rounds but better hitting power ." Waving the bartender over he orders a bottle of water for the mage .
Thinking it would be nice to see some magics . Living underground I don't get to see a lot of that . He he I bet that would offend him , be like going up to a troll and saying ' Can I see your horns ? Can I ? Can I '
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Post by infinite on Sept 26, 2006 13:44:22 GMT -5
Takes to offered hand in a firm shake. "My Browning'll do the job in a pinch when I'm not inclined to burn someone to ash. You're a decker, right? What kind of ride you got?" He relaxes a bit, allowing his coat to fall across the Browning.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2006 15:37:20 GMT -5
" I'm a rigger not a Decker . As for my ride , just what I can afford for now . A Fordamericar with alittle bit more under the hood . Gets me where I need to be and all that . " Thinking Ahh the Landsharks a good old car . I should be riding now not sitting .
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Post by infinite on Sept 26, 2006 22:55:16 GMT -5
"Sorry 'bout that, I'm not much for technology. I guess we're not going anywhere until the rest of the crew arrives."
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Post by shasta on Sept 27, 2006 4:14:03 GMT -5
The door creaks open again, and in steps a professional. One glance at him is all it takes to tell. He's tall for a norm, about 6' 3", with broard shoulders. He wears a long, tan coat, open over a suit. He steps half-out of the doorway, one hand still on the handle. The other hand hovers around the belt - no doubt ready to reach for a weapon. His gaze sweeps the bar - once quickly, then back again, more slowly, taking in the details. He steps clear of the door again, opening it behind him to admit a shorter man, also in a coat and suit. He looks around the bar, rubbing his hands together softly, before directing the larger man towards a corner table at the back of the bar. The smaller suited man sits, while the pro remains standing, eyes still scanning the room. hands still at his sides now.
The big ork, O'Toole, approaches them, and chats to the seated man for a minute or so, before turning and heading to the bar. He takes Tiny aside for a moment. You see the troll's eye's light on you, and a few of the other patrons as he lsitens to O'Toole.
As O'Toole dissappears again, the troll catches your eye and motions you over. As you jander over, he points to the suit in the corner. "You were here tonight lookin for work? That's the guy to see. Says he might just have a job for someone with your talents. And that it might pay enough you don't have to drink in here for a while, too." He grins that disturbing, lopsided grin again. "There's a few other's he's interested in, too. Seems it's too much work for just two of ya's. Go and introduce yourself to the man. He'll give you an idea of the job. If you don't like it, you walk. If you do, O'Toole's gone through to set up the back room so you can talk turkey wifout gettin interrupted." With that, he motions you to the back of the room.
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