Shadowrun 4th Edition

[Darkeye4876]

Anyone interested in playing a Shadowrun game?

It has been some time since I have ran one, but I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to brush off the dust on my old SR books. If there is anyone interested the game it would have to be ether on Friday evenings (anytime after 3:30pm -6 central American time is ideal) I just wanted to put that out there for FYI. The game would take place in Seattle in 2073. Your characters would be recently released convicts sent to the slums of Old Town to try and re-start your lives. But with criminal SIN's and the clothes on your back it wont be easy finding anyone who would be willing to deal with you. The game will be an adventure to obtain notoriety & nuyen to hopefully make names for yourselves and escape the life.


If there are any takers please let me know so I can start preparing :-)

[Bro.T]

Thanks for responding to my PM but you missed one of my questions so I will post here in case others are wondering.

Text only, voice only, or mix?

[Dr_Babylon]

I believe this matter is still being considered. Might I take this opportunity to stress my preference for "text-only"?

[Bro.T]

I believe this matter is still being considered. Might I take this opportunity to stress my preference for "text-only"?

Ditto. I find voice significantly effects emersion - negatively. Plus, typing forces most people to actually think about what they are going to say......

[Dr_Babylon]

Folks who have played with me before might beg to differ on that. A long-ago keyboarding class, short attention span and faulty social filter have produced some awfully unproductive material from me. Otherwise, I concur entirely.

Haven't had much Shadowrun experience. Seem to remember I liked being a "Face" and found the magic and hacking systems to be positively indecipherable. If we're playing characters fresh out of prison (oddly, I started to type "juvie") then that gives us something to bring us together. Also, starting with so very little is a delightful trait to play with (would assume not a lot of prisoners with a full suite of cybernetic enhancements). Lets not forget exploring how detention has effected us, our families, our perspective on life, etc. Are we trying to do the right things by children and spouses who want nothing to do with us? Have we accrued debts to those who kept us safe on the inside? Have we learned to appreciate the simple joys of freedom or have we become hardened to such trivialities? Details. Yay!

...Sure hope I can fit whatever schedule we choose.

[Bro.T]

Folks who have played with me before might beg to differ on that. A long-ago keyboarding class, short attention span and faulty social filter have produced some awfully unproductive material from me. Otherwise, I concur entirely.

Haven't had much Shadowrun experience. Seem to remember I liked being a "Face" and found the magic and hacking systems to be positively indecipherable. If we're playing characters fresh out of prison (oddly, I started to type "juvie") then that gives us something to bring us together. Also, starting with so very little is a delightful trait to play with (would assume not a lot of prisoners with a full suite of cybernetic enhancements). Lets not forget exploring how detention has effected us, our families, our perspective on life, etc. Are we trying to do the right things by children and spouses who want nothing to do with us? Have we accrued debts to those who kept us safe on the inside? Have we learned to appreciate the simple joys of freedom or have we become hardened to such trivialities? Details. Yay!

...Sure hope I can fit whatever schedule we choose.

I don't believe that I ever tried to crack the magic/decker code either. You bring up interesting points with the prison stint. How "off the grid" can these runners really be after being stenciled and barcoded in the prison system? "Juvie" might be right on track as these are likely to be youngish characters just starting out, though not necessarily I suppose. I didn't assume it was a long prison sentence - 6 mo. to a year maybe? Should have at least made some good contacts during our time in the joint anyway. :D

[Dr_Babylon]

You don't wanna be Brooks Hatlen, institutionalized man and crow totem shaman? I really gotta read up on the rules. Can't conceive of how a magic-user would do in prison.

Also, remembering a lot from when I watched HBO's "Oz" series...biker trolls for the win...

[Darkeye4876]

All very good points. As far as why you where placed in "Lock" you where hired to steal information from Silver-wire Industries (a subsidiary to Aries Macrotechnology) but the job was botched due to out of date security info and you where caught. Sense B&E is considered a somewhat major offense (especially if the Lone Star Security is another company owned by Aries) you where sentenced to 2 years in Lock. Since runners are in mind when creating a prison there are some countermeasures in place. As far as cybernetic implants, most enhancements and abilities are nullified by firewall ICs implanted in the cyberware. Magic users are placed in a separate block containing wards and mage guards with counter-spells at the ready. People suspected of being Technomancers are kept in reinforced Isolation blocks with round the clock supervision. Since many mega-corps would love to get there hands on a Technomancer (ether to eliminate or force to work), most see that as a repellent to attempt to use there abilities at all. As far as gear any weapons would be confiscated including any cyber-weapon implants. Armor, commlinks, and such would be returned to you after release. The biggist problem would be your criminal SINs. Very few Fixers are going to want to risk sending runners that can be tagged out on missions, so finding a way to get rid of them is going to be a big priority if you wants to stat making some decent nuyen.

[Dr_Babylon]

Technomancers sure sound interesting. I take it they are a relatively new addition to the Shadowrun mythos (my experiences were limited to 3rd edition played roughly 15 years ago). I am seldom a fan of the overt physical combat types and might be interested in playing a technological savant.

I am a little disappointed that our backstory is so thoroughly mapped out as I had been looking forward to writing up my own past misdeeds, reasons for incarceration, and contacts on the inside. Moreover, if all player characters participated in that failed job, it implies that we will all be practiced shadowrunners (of questionable talent?) with prior knowledge of each other. Again, this presents some limitations regarding personal history but I suppose I can work with it.

All of this is moot if you intend on beginning play before 9:30 pm (Eastern) as I will simply be unable to attend.

Until final decisions are made, I continue to observe this project with interest.

[Darkeye4876]

Well if everyone doesn't have a problem starting at 9:30 then I don't foresee a situation. Yes, Technomancers are a relatively new concept that was added in the 4th edition. During the course of the mid to late 60s people where emerging with new abilities. Much Like the Awakened who can use magic, Technomancers have the ability to manipulate the matrix without the need of a commlink or datajack. Simply by sheer force of will can they control technology and information

[scofsins]

So just a few questions to clear things up. it starts at 9:30 pm (eastern) on which Friday. And is there any books not aloud, and are we starting of with the 400bp of normal starting characters or is there a different way you would like to start us off at?

[Darkeye4876]

yes it will be 9:30pm (eastern). The first game day will be on Friday the 6th. If there are any particulate books you want to use let me know, and 400bp are the starting buy points

[Dr_Babylon]

So it would probably be a good idea for interested individuals to pool their efforts in terms of party creation, I presume? No sense fielding a half-dozen riggers on the same team.

I'd like to put together the resident data acquisition specialist (hacker? decker? technomancer? whatever), if no one objects. I am certain there is much to be made out of a capricious iconoclast obsessed with uncovering well-kept secrets (regardless of value) and a devoted reverence toward Matrix "socialization". Totally calling dibs.

Prison was rough on my character. Worst thing you can take from an otaku is time that could be spent interfacing. She returns to a life outside with a sense of urgency, that so much information has slipped irrevocably through her fingers, and a certain bitter vindictiveness against those who would try to take that connection away again.

Sincerely hoping someone makes a muscle-bound goon or hard-as-nails commando to watch my back.

Or maybe I'm doing this wrong?

[Ste1000]

I'd be interested in giveing this a go, I have only ever played 2nd edition. Is this much different to 4th ed?

[Dr_Babylon]

Okay. Having sat through both "Hackers" and "Johnny Mnemonic" in the last two days, I feel I have suffered appropriately for this project. Yeesh.

Reading new rules and learning how little I knew of previous editions. Sure hope you guys are the patient types. I'm totally committed from a character standpoint but rules and tactics might...take some time.

Still going with a Technomancer character and I am likely to have some minor Rigging aspects as well as I have read that this is a workable method of making such a specialist somewhat more effective in physical combat. She's likely to owe some (reluctant) allegiance to Russian mob ties as it's hard to imagine coming out of prison in this world without having made some new friends you wouldn't invite over for dinner.

I presume there are some things that we simply won't be starting with with consideration to character generation. Does it make sense that an individual would still have an arsenal of weapons and gear hidden away? Having been recently imprisoned sort of impinges on one's augmentations and mystical knowledge. I assume it would be unwise to spend a whole whack of points on hand razors and gun licenses at this stage? We will all be a little rusty and trying to get our feet back under us at first, yes?

I would love to hear what the rest of the prospective party is planning.

In any event, I look forward to putting my life in your hands.

[scofsins]

i made a face character and i have plans for an enforcer dont know which i will play yet

[Sabath]

Count me in and color me as a Mage. (I do actually understand the rules) Looking forward to it.

[Dr_Babylon]

...file not found

The technomancer called br33z3 entered the Ambrosia Diner right on time. The bustling tumult of the crowd inside the restaurant seemed dull and indistinct to her senses, distracted as she was by the wireless signals filling the air around her. The physical realm was secondary and often entirely superfluous to one preternaturally attuned to the pull of the Matrix as br33z3 was. The world was her instrument and these countless, intangible fibers were the strings by which she played it.

Her attention elsewhere, the external changes the diner had seen in the time she had been away had little impact. The young woman found a booth and awaited her contact, zoning out for the moment as her hands fumbled instinctively with the menu.

"Hi," her sister said, breaking br33z3 out of her fugue and seating herself on the opposite side of the booth. "You look good," she said. They both knew that wasn't true. After two years at Shadow Lake, primarily spent in iso, br33z3 was looking more anemic and neglected than anything else. She had been fairly resistant to the supervised visits to the exercise yard granted to solitary inmates, more inclined to shut down than bulk up.

Indeed, sitting across from her sister felt as if br33z3 were looking into a mirror that showed a healthier version of herself, several centimeters taller and a half-dozen years older. With striking features afforded by their Elven genes, the sisters also shared darkly alluring East European traits, br33z3's current pallor notwithstanding. They had the same lustrous, mahogany-shaded hair, though the technomancer's was chopped and crimped seemingly at random in imitation of glam-punk styles of the past, and they viewed the world with the same coppery eyes. They both boasted curves atypical among the Elven population that couldn't be hidden by br33z3's apparent malnutrition or her sister's tastefully conservative garb.

A waitress coalesced at the edge of br33z3's awareness. The elder sister just ordered coffee and took on a faint smile when br33z3 ordered a plate of soy-based pancakes and a Bolt cola.

"Is the maple syrup real?" br33z3 asked the waitress incredulously, her eyes huge and innocent. The server looked at her like she was deranged and strode off to make good on their order while the young woman snickered.

"Like old times?"

"Yeah." And br33z3 sounded almost bashful. "Used to come here for breakfast after pullin' all-nighter hack-jobs."

"I remember. Of course it's nearly four in the afternoon now..." her companion gently reminded her.

They shared a moment of quiet, pleasant nostalgia before br33z3 saw fit to lurch onward.

"It's great to see you, Z3ph." she confessed. Her eyelids seemed heavy, lending an air of both coquettishness and torpid disinterest.

"Don't call me that, Tamara. That's not my name."

"It used to be," Tamara "br33z3" Vardabedian pointed out, sounding to her own ears as a truculent child. "Growing up, everybody knew the name Z3ph4r and what it represented."

Her sister peered back at her for several long moments, her expression unreadable.

"It didn't represent anything good," she proclaimed with quiet conviction. "Just call me Miranda, okay?"

The technomancer slouched lower in their shared booth, stewing privately over this unpleasant shift.

"All right. Miranda." The name had a strange taste in her mouth, though it had indeed been her sister's since birth. Tamara resolved to get the conversation back on track. "You were none too easy to find, by the way," she offered, artificially winsome.

Miranda nodded politely, but without interest. She certainly knew that this was simply not true. Only the location of someone with the will and resources to completely bury themselves from Matrix scrutiny would have given Tamara any trouble.

"You've been online then?" Her sister feigned indifference. For her, this was the heart of the matter.

"Well...yeah." The younger woman felt like she had been caught in the pantry with crumbs on her face. The soothing tones of an authority figure could indicate a trap. "A little."

"For how long?" Miranda asked, at the same time both concerned and demanding. She fixed the technomancer with her most understanding gaze.

"A few hours yesterday," Tamara responded vaguely, not meeting her sister's eye. How many cookies did you eat? "I dunno. Part of the day before."

"Liar," Miranda wore a very faint smile to take some of the sting out of the accusation. "How long?" she repeated.

"Sixty-three hours, seventeen minutes," Tamara admitted with a flat tone. They both knew that she had always had the ability to pinpoint exactly how long she had been consecutively online. "And twenty-two seconds."

"Oh," Miranda sighed and Tamara stared at her, surprised at the empathy she found there. The genuine lack of judgement. She might yet find the assistance she sought.

"I...had a lot to catch up on," the former otaku added, still feeling inexplicably embarrassed. As though she were on the defensive. "Missed a lot..."

"I can understand that," her gentle interrogator nodded. "You've had a lot of downtime recently."

"Yeah, couldn't really get anywhere in Lock."

"They let you jack in?" Miranda asked, genuinely surprised.

"No," she amended. "Closed system access only. Not the same thing at all. Like swimmin' good as any fish in the ocean and then gettin' chucked in a bathtub. Someone else's bathtub. Still had to pretend like I had trouble with it, too. Fudge the numbers, so to speak. For two years." After a moment she muttered, "Can't be too careful," under her breath. "Had no idea who had eyes on me."

Tamara stopped talking when she noticed Miranda watching her closely. Her cheeks colored ever so slightly. Pity was worse than scorn or even outright condemnation. For a moment, the constant ebb and flow of the wireless information around her became more pervasive than every other sensation. The younger woman's eyelids drooped as she focused on the curiously comforting distraction, sucking her lower lip pensively.


(to be continued)

[Dr_Babylon]

(in continuation)


"Is it the AIPS?" Miranda's voice, even more gentle than before, brought her back to the Ambrosia Diner.

"Yeah." Tamara furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. To judge by her tone, her sister still thought of her as being somehow disabled by her condition. Artificially Induced Psychotropic Schizophrenia was at least as much of a gift as a curse.

"What medication do they have you on?"

"Sentritol," she responded automatically. At Shadow Lake, everyone who wasn't a guard or a prisoner seemed eager to confirm her drugs and dosages, with perpetually sunny dispositions. "And, um, Pacifidrene. To help me sleep."

"Do they help?" Miranda inquired, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

Tamara only stared impassively at her, unsure of how to answer the ludicrous question. Does an anchor heal a sailing ship? Does a blindfold make a firing squad vanish?

"How are Mom and Dad?" she asked instead.

"They're...really good," the older woman responded. Now it was her turn to play defense. "They moved out of the city, actually."

"I thought I might drop by to see them." Tamara inexplicably relished her sister's futile evasions. She could, of course, find Dr. Parsam Vardabedian and his wife Alice, quite literally, with her eyes closed. "Have a lot to free time, all of a sudden."

Miranda hesitated and the tension grew thicker between them as her sister considered how to dissuade her.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Tamara asked, slightly alarmed at the sharpness in her own voice. She lowered her volume accordingly. "They seemed to have trouble finding my...little home away from home."

Of course, Miranda knew full well that neither parent had visited Tamara at any point during her incarceration. Her sister had come to see her three times during the first few months but attendance had dropped off after that.

"It wasn't easy for them!" the older Vardabedian insisted. "They were embarrassed by what happened, Tamara. You know how important...appearances are to them. You don't understand all that they had to give up."

"At least they've still got you making excuses!" Tamara jabbed petulantly.

The technomancer looked down at her hands and found them balled into fists on the table top. She realized suddenly that she was bitterly angry and only by judicious expense of willpower was she able to loosen her fingers and unclench her jaw. The young woman peeked over her shoulder and found a few inquisitive eyes cast in her direction. The faces became vague and meaningless shapes, once again, as Tamara's very being throbbed with the inexorable signals that permeated this place. And the streets outside. And almost everywhere else she'd ever been.

Miranda's hand on her shoulder returned her to the here and now.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman mumbled. Her ire had slipped away as if it had never existed, leaving her feeling hollowed out. "It's usually...much easier when I'm really upset or keeping busy or getting...um, excited."

"It's okay," Miranda assured her. "You're under a lot of stress. Adjusting. Finding a new place for yourself."

"Yeah," Tamara agreed bashfully. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh yeah?" Her sister tried to sound positive but worry was blossoming just below her pretty smile. Miranda was perceptive enough to doubt that imprisonment had changed Tamara's priorities.

"I thought maybe you could hook me up," Tamara suggested, trying on a playful smirk and coming off desperate and sneaky.

"You're joking," Miranda replied hopefully but her own grin quickly faded. "You're not. You actually think I'm still...in the life?"

"Well you...still know people, right?" Tamara raised her hands in a gesture somewhere between a shrug and supplication. "Just gimme some names."

"I don't have any for you." Firm and uncompromising.

"What about the old gang then?" the out-of-work hacker asked. "What's s7ax up to these days? Or D-t@ilz?"

"Mr. Details, as I believe he likes to be called now, is a very successful JoyBoy specializing in well-connected corporate Johns. And last I heard, s7ax woke up on the wrong side of a go-gang and got himself geeked."

"I refuse to believe that's all you've got for me," Tamara uttered peevishly.

"Facts are facts," Miranda responded with cool finality, conscripting one of their slogans from their Matrix-scouring days. "I've turned it all off. You can do it to."

"I don't have that luxury, Z3ph." Tamara was dropping back into the kind of unfathomable rage that can only be inspired by beloved family members now. ""

"Z3ph didn't build anything worth keeping," Miranda explained with admirable self-control. "Only after putting that life aside, could I create something meaningful. I got married, Tamara. I've got a new baby. You'd never believe how much he looks like his aunt."

Tamara waved one pale hand in a gesture of contempt.

"I've been off the grid two years!" she snarled. "Two months would have been a lifetime! And you're throwing this small-time piddly drek in my face? I can take it all back but I need contacts, Miranda! And I need them yesterday!"

"You don't get it," her sister sighed wearily, sounding truly disappointed. "That's not what a reasonable person wants out of life. Things have changed for me and I am happy. I wish you could see that."

Tamara remained unconvinced, scowling her defiance across the table.

"I'm going to teacher's college in the fall," she declared ardently. "Can you understand that? It's an incredible opportunity for me. I'm going to help shape young minds and put kids on the right track."

"How ironic," the technomancer hissed callously and wanted the words back an instant after they were spoken. Remorse didn't always occur to her but, when it did, it was always big.

"How could...?" her sister asked, staring incredulously at her for a moment, lips quivering, coppery eyes already welling with tears. She looked away in a hurry, standing shakily and digging in her purse. "I knew this was a mistake."

Tamara observed the hurt she'd caused in opening old wounds with a hard and icy gaze. She knew she couldn't erase the past, much as she might want to, and didn't know how to bridge the rift between them so she kept her cool instead. If you can't rebuild then why not scorch the earth?

"Don't contact me again." Miranda tossed a credstick on the table with a sense of finality. And something else.

"Count on it," the younger woman countered at her departing sister's back.

Tamara's fidgety fingers plucked a tiny memory card from beside the credstick. It was labeled in Miranda's precise handwriting with "Devan's First Birthday Trid". At least, she thought that's what it said. The murmur was back and it was hard to stay focused on the Ambrosia Diner in which everything suddenly seemed so inconsequential. She couldn't bring herself to find substance in family matters.

A girl had to have priorities.


(I'm not sure how terribly necessary this all is at this point but that's never stopped me before. Just trying to get a feel for the character. I admit that my understanding of Shadowrun lingo is novice at best. Here's hoping we see some positive developments Friday night.)