SDMB Shadowrun campaign Chapter 3 - Prey To The Dark: Players only!

[Autolycus]

Originally Posted by Hoopy Frood

"Yeah, we could keep hiding like rats. But I'm ready to take these bastards out. The time for hiding is over, even if I wasn't sick of it by now."

Nail's first thought flashes through his head, Lighten up, Goethe.

He then replies, standing up and raising his hands slightly, "Hey, I'm not disagreeing." He then takes a deep breath, leans over, and lights a cig. "Alright," he says, taking a puff. He then twirls the cig up in the air and catches it again in his mouth. "Let's take the fight to them."

He walks over to his quarters. "I'll be packing my bags," he says, before wherever he loses sight of the crew. He doesn't have any bags to pack, but it's a good excuse as any to get away from the tension and inevitable jibber-jabber of planning. Who needs planning?

[Mahaloth]

Sinthia slightly raises her head, not making eye contact with anyone, but still at least looking....you know, alive.

"I can fight. No Spirits, even Water, though."

She looks back down at her knees.

[Mosier]

You've had a pretty good life, far as any decent ork's concerned. Goethe knows he's not a decent ork, though. The fighting and partying and sex and drugs and noisy music so enjoyed by his people never really had much appeal to Goethe. Goddamned orks just love running the shadows, don't they. So did you, but not for the same reasons. You did it to make something of yourself. Prove yourself.

See where it got you?

Goethe can't help but think of himself in the past-tense. It doesn't exactly take a lot of introspection to figure out why, either. Runners have an expiration date, and he's well past his. He can feel fate creeping up on him. He's dodged so many bullets he can't even count 'em. It's got to be a record. Luck won't last forever, though.

"Look sharp," Rescigno says via comlink. Easy for him to say. The Executive Director of Operations is safely tucked away in a command bunker. He's gonna get the televised version of the evil voodoo monster. "Butch is about to paint you a picture. Weapons hot, kids. This is it."

Yeah, yeah. We get it.

Goethe glances up at Nail. Nail's head is somewhere else. Probably thinkin' of that lady of his. Nail can feel it too, though. It's written all over him. Something's different about this run. It's not just another paycheck, or revenge, or even just simple survival. Something is seriously fucked up with the world, and it's up to them to fix it. This must be what old-world soldiers felt like; fighting for a cause, righting wrongs, feeling the heavy weight of responsibility and duty. All bullshit, of course, but the feeling is real enough.

While the others are inspecting their weapons and equipment, 4509 sits calmly. He's the only one who doesn't really care what happens next. Goethe's good at reading people, but he just can't figure out what 4509's about. What does he want? Why is he even here?

Goethe can't help but notice that Nightshade always puts herself in a position where she would have tactical superiority over the cyborg in a fight. She might not even consciously realize she's doing it. She knows just what the most dangerous thing around is, though. And it ain't vampires. Maybe it used to be Sinthia, but not anymore. Crazy witch in the middle of a nervous breakdown. Might as well have left her behind, for all the good she'll do.

The rotors of Universal Omnitech's extremely advanced helicopter spin with an eerie buzz, like an eternally cresting wave. Everything's ready. A couple of combat drones are circling the copter, ready to intervene if there's any trouble. Goethe looks down at the Seattle skyline, and marvels at the view despite himself. It almost looks like a nice place to be, from here. What a difference perspective makes.

"Two minutes," Rescigno says via comlink. "If anyone has any last words, now's the time."

[AClockworkMelon]

4509 remains silent throughout the duration of the trip, his rifle resting upright on his knee, barrel leaned against his shoulder. He's been blown halfway to hell and bolted back together but you wouldn't know it from looking at him. He seems unchanged by the experience.

When Rescigno's voice comes over the commlink he lowers his weapon and swivels it out the helicopter's open side and flips up its scope's cap.

[Hoopy Frood]

Last Words. The phrase makes Goethe shudder a bit in spite of himself. Sure Rescigno no doubt meant that phrase in the "before the mission gets going and all Hell breaks loose so finalize your strategies now" sort of way, but seeing as how the team's about to try a blind infiltration of an unknown nerve center of a Doomsday cult of unknown strength and size, the phrase carries a slightly darker air with it.

Not that it really matters. No one's going to likely say much anyway. There's not much use to devising strategy when your intel is sorely lacking. And it's not as if anyone's going to be giving any inspirational speeches tonight. Even if it was Goethe's style, it's not as if anyone's going to be all that receptive to it. A mage with a crisis of identity and faith? A cyborg who thinks saying "Good day." is being talkative and views human interaction as a chore? Certainly not them. Nail isn't in his typical spirits either, not even getting in some last-minute snarky digs at the world in general or Geothe in particular. Nightshade might be up for it if anyone would be. After all, she's like a more personable and less cynical version of himself. But really, what inspirational things is anyone going to say here and who's going to even listen? It's quite possible that this team is about to execute a mission of worldwide significance, stopping a cult determined to take over the world and mold it in its own image. It's also equally possible that the team is about to enter an undertaking of beating up a bunch of bratty emo adolescents who would eventually self-destruct anyway as egos conflicted and everyone decided it was easier to take his ball and go home. Doesn't really matter. Succeed or fail, it's unlikely anyone outside of this little circle of hunted who became the hunters will even give two shits in the end. The universe will carry on regardless.

So last words? There's really not much to say. But Goethe, never being one to shutup, figure's he'll say something anyway. If for nothing else than to break the tension.

"I just want to say you all better make it out of this alive so you can pay me back for all the liquor you drank. That goes for you as well, Rescigno."

[Autolycus]

Goethe's right. Nail's head is in another place. But he's not only thinking about his wife. He misses her more than life itself, but he is confident she is safe. He knows all he has to do is survive this and he can see her again. Once this is all over. But when's that going to be? What in the world is the crew getting into? Even for somebody as skilled at going with the flow at Nail, his mind cannot resist letting in a sense of unease. He stares intently at the skyline thinking, Here we go again...

But his attention is soon taken away by the wind rustling against his gun. Horrible mental images flash back into his mind, the mental pathways speedened by years of unwilling practice. It's been years since he came home to find his mother brutally murdered. It's been years since that day he came home to see his father shooting a strange gunman, the last customer of a house turned into a wrecked carnival of bodies and debris. It's been years but he can still remember every curl of smoke from his father's pistol, and the smell of the gunpowder and blood.

He didn't see his father much after that day. For his protection, his father said, Nail was shipped off to various boarding schools. On days where most boys would either go home or have visiting relatives, Nail would only get the occasional care package. Not that he really wanted to see his father. He blamed his father entirely for his mother's death. His father had lied to everyone, not telling anyone about his running career. It was his dirty secret life, his fault his mom had been targeted. He never once tried to deny it.

Which is what made it even more shocking on the day of his 21st birthday, the dorm receptionist said he had a visitor in his room. It was his father. Silently holding a box, all he said was, "It's dangerous to go alone. Take this." As soon as he took the package, his father left. Thanks old man, he thought sarcastically, and threw it in a corner of his closet. He didn't even open it for years, but he had a sixth sense he knew what it was. He always knew.

His eyes turn to the gun at his side, focusing back onto the present day. Well I'm not happy, he thinks. You knew the rules. You would only be used in times of dire need, when it was my life or theirs. And now look, you're getting your rocks off all over the place. Zombies, ghouls, and men... men... That was the second rule. You were not allowed to kill anyone. Now innocent blood is on our hands. Can you wash that off? Of course not, you're just a gun...

And some gun at that, too! he continues thinking. If you're going to see action all the time, the least you can do is be effective. You can't knock a gun out of a goon's hand, or knock an elemental out in one hit, or even take down a rampaging dragon! He chuckles quietly despite himself. Although, I guess that last one is asking a lot...

Unsurprisingly, this is not the first time Nail has had a monologue like this with his weapon. Sometimes it even seems like the gun talks back. I only serve to protect you... Nail thinks he hears it say. The voice always sounds similar to his father, like he can feel his father there with him. He hates this feeling almost as much as he hates using the gun itself.

That's a lie! he snaps back. What have you protected? You couldn't protect mother back then, and you can barely protect me now. Protection? It was probably you that got father into all this mess in the first place. You were always father's gun, the gun that he used on countless runs, the gun that earned him his fame, the very fame that ruined the happy life we all had!

Mentally hyper-ventilating, Nail manages to calm down. Although, that's not really fair. You're just a tool, an inanimate object. Father's the real asshole here...wherever he is. He stares out the window a few seconds more.

The bottom line is, if I didn't need to make sure I stayed alive for my wife's sake, I'd rather shoot myself and die than use you even a single time.

What seemed like a lengthy dialogue in Nail's mind had only taken about a minute in real time. Working through his feelings some actually brightens Nail's mood slightly, and it's not long before Goethe replies to Rescigno's final warning. Nail replies in turn,

"And you better make it out of this alive so I can borrow more booze from you. You know I'm good for it."

[Mahaloth]

Let's burn the world down if we have to, thinks Sinthia. There is nothing here left for anyone; if Raven abandons us(or betrays us), then perhaps there is no point in any of us living.

Outloud, she merely said, "Seneth would really like this next bit."

This is not a comforting thing to hear.

[Mosier]

There's a few moments of uncomfortable silence as Goethe and Nail share a brief, awkward glance. Goethe looks around at the misfits gathered in the helicopter; Nail, Sinthia, Nightshade, 4509, and Goethe himself. All of them damaged goods. They ought to be unreliable, but somehow it fell on this crew to hunt down a cult god and Goethe didn't doubt in the least that they'd pull it off.

Rescigno is over the comlink again. Damn, that man speaks a lot. "Be ready," the UO Director says. "The Dark cult has proven to be tech savvy, and you can bet they won't like us sabotaging their toys. Butch is overloading the signal receiver now."

Goethe looks out the side of the copter, which overlooks Seattle to the south. What's he looking for, exactly? An explosion? The UO eggheads are surely monitoring for a certain type of particles or signal with their scanners, but would it be something Goethe could actually see?

"Alright, it's done," Rescigno says. Well, guess that answers that question. "Oh...you're not gonna' like this."

"What is it?" Nail says.

"The signal came from Oldtown," Resicgno answers. "Rot Iron Punks territory."

Nightshade raises an eyebrow. "Goethe?"

The Ork Shadowrunner is a bit offended. "What? You think I have any cred with RIP? We Orks don't all know each other," he says.

Nail shrugs. "Well, guess we have to call the whole thing off," he mutters sarcastically. "A stupid Ork gang with a very subtle acronym is standing between us and the nightmare vampire demon thingy."

"Just be careful," Rescigno says. "We'll have to drop you off outside Oldtown. RIP's a vulgar, savage clan, but they have enough weapons to make flying through their turf very dangerous. You'll have to approach on foot. I'm uploading coordinates to your comlinks now."

"Just one question before we go make nice with the Orks," Nail says. "Won't the badguys have enough time to split before we reach them, this way?"

"Maybe. We've got surveillance drones watching the building though. If anyone leaves, we can track them while you give pursuit."

"Oh, alright then. Sounds foolproof," Nail says with dripping sarcasm.

"Got a better idea?" Rescigno says. "We only have one chance at this. You fly over Rot Iron Punk territory in that copter, and you're likely to be shot down. If you want to give it a try anyway, be my guest."

-

Rescigno has offered two different approach options. One is to land just outside RIP turf and attempt to negotiate or fight a path toward The Dark cult headquarters. The other is to ignore the danger posed by RIP weapons, and simply fly directly to the target and hope for the best. Rescigno will respect any group consensus for how to proceed.

[Mahaloth]

"We land, attempt to negotiate....and then fight to the HQ(if we have to)," Sinithia says, barely looking up from her knees, which are now curled up to her chin.

Her eyes are closed while she says this.

[Hoopy Frood]

"Fight to the HQ? Right. Us vs. an entire gang on their own turf. That's our very last option.

"Flying in is right out. We might make it, but then we might get shot down. And even assuming we manage to survive the bailout, we're going to have gang-bangers on our asses from all angles before we even hit the ground.

"Our best bet, and I use that term only because it sucks less than any other, is to try to actually convince them we don't give two shits about their turf and just want to accomplish our goal and get out. Course, it's going to cost us big time. Granted, if we can somehow convince them that our goal will benefit them, we might be able to catch a price break. After all, taking down this cult benefits them in two ways: it means that another group isn't taking over their turf, and it means that they don't have to worry about being turned into wendigos."

Seeing some puzzled looks from his companions, Goethe continues:

"Yeah, wendigos. It's what happens when the vampiric virus gets put into an Ork. I've never encountered one myself, which is obvious since I'm standing in front of you. Because few who ever meet one will live to tell about it. Vamps are child's play by comparison. If you're lucky, the wendigo will just kill you. If you're not, he'll turn you into his thrall, cause you to willingly engage in cannibalism, and then kill you. And while not all vampires are considered awakened, all wendigos are. Nasty creatures.

"Now, any Ork worth his blood, and with any sanity, won't willingly become one of those things. So if the RIP have any sense, they'll realize that it's to their own benefit not to interfere with us since if this cult gets too desperate, they might start turning the gang. Of course, that's a huge 'if'. It's possible the cult has hired them. It's possible they don't care. It's possible they're just violent and stupid.

"But regardless, we don't have much choice. Let's just hope they're somewhat reasonable, or at least willing to listen to logic, and if we have too, we shoot our way through, slowly, strategically, and methodically, though we might be better off just leaving because while we fail the mission regardless, at least we get out alive. Because they're the ones fighting on familiar turf with superior numbers. We win on equipment and talent, but that only gets you so far."

[AClockworkMelon]

"They aren't going to have men posted with RPGs on helicopter-duty. Just fly in, drop us and fly out."

[Hoopy Frood]

"They might not have men posted for an aerial infiltration, but they're no doubt well-armed enough that they have some RPG's or such on hand. And it only takes one well-placed shot."

[AClockworkMelon]

4509's said all he has to and doesn't participate in any further discussion on the matter, keeping his rifle trained on the city below.

[Mahaloth]

In an agitated whisper, Sinthia says, "Whatever. I don't care what we do as long as we do it. Someone just decide and we'll go."

[Mosier]

"Alright then," Rescigno says, "It's decided. You'll land outside of RIP turf."

Goethe watches 4509, but doesn't see any sign of protest from the cyborg. It's almost eerie how quickly he dropped the issue.

Moments later, the helicopter comes to rest at an intersection marking Rot Iron Punk territory. Goethe is the first one out the side of the copter. "Don't show any weakness," Goethe says to the others. "Worst thing you can do is look like prey to these thugs." He glances at Sinithia, who seems despondent, lonely, and depressed. "Especially you," he mutters.

"Hands up, mutt!" a growling voice orders. Even through the turbulence of the helicopter rotors, the voice is loud and powerful. An assault rifle is trained on Goethe, lazily held in the hands of an incredibly large and muscled ork with a gigantic purple mohawk. The ganger looks like a caricature of his race, with bulging shoulders, pecs, and biceps stretching out a too-small tank top shirt.

"You first," Goethe says. He doesn't raise his own weapon, but he isn't backing down either. The big ork is flanked by two normal-sized gangers with assault rifles. For a moment, it seems like the big one will just shoot Goethe and be done with it, until 4509, Nail, Nightshade, and Sinthia also exit the copter.

"There's no fuckin' way you're taking a step on to our turf," the ork says, clearly sizing up the cyborg as he speaks. "Take your tin-man and scram back to whatever corp's payin' you. You've got nothin' we want."

The Punk ambassador seems uninterested in negotiation. The crew outnumbers the RIP welcome committee, but they're still clearly not afraid of a fight.

[AClockworkMelon]

4509's long-distance rifle is packed up by the time the chopper lands and the cyborg doesn't hesitate in making landfall from the vehicle. Unaffected by the wind and noise from the rotors he makes his way towards the welcome party, pistols spinning from his arms and into his hands.

Uninterested in the ork's threat, 4509 cuts him off and trains both weapons on him as he stalks forward. This ork wouldn't be the biggest thing 4509's killed by far and the cyborg briefly wonders if he'd put on as big a show if he knew it. "You're letting us pass."

[Hoopy Frood]

Goethe will use physical intimidation with a point of edge for the below. He's not intending to come across as threatening in any way. Because Goethe isn't making a threat. He fully means everything he's saying. There is no menace behind his words, just matter-of-factness from a guy with little to lose who fully intends to follow through on what he says. He's not going to back down. He's not going to leave. He's going into that turf or he's dying here. It's that simple.

"I really don't advise you piss the cyborg off. I've seen him detonate a plasma grenade at point blank range between him and a dragon. And as you can see, he's still here. As for the dragon? Well, the less said the better.

"As far as crawling back to the corp that hired us, well that's going to be hard for most of us. Only two are actually working for the corp. The rest of us have our own reasons for being here. It'd be nice to get a nice bonus from the corp in the end, but I'm not expecting it and I didn't contract for it. I'm here for personal reasons, one of which is the people we're working against--if you can even call them people--have already murdered a close friend of mine and would have tried for me next. I've been a dead-man walking for a while now, so I got little to lose. And I plan to go out on my own terms, not theirs. It's interesting the perspective one gets in these types of situations. So I'm willing to die for my cause, and I'll take anyone with me who gets in my way. I can't speak for the others as such, but you'll find they'll express similar sentiments. So the way I see it, we can fight this out, which will likely end bad for both of our sides, regardless of who wins in the end. And even if you win, you have to realize we'll do enough damage to you that the vampires we're after will have that much easier of a job taking your merry little gang out and claiming the turf.

"Yeah, you heard me. Vampires. I honestly wish I was bullshitting you. Of course, if you're working with them, we'll probably have to wipe out your group anyway, but I doubt you are, because they know we're coming, and they wouldn't have sent out this small of a welcome wagon.

"We really have no desire for your turf; I doubt you'll find the vampires feel the same way, after all, they already claimed a piece of it to make their HQ. Say what you want about the corp I'm working with, at least it's run by metahumans and not plague-ridden abominations out to remake the world in their own twisted image.

"So it's your call. We're not asking for anything more than passage to this corp to take them down, and then passage back for whoever survives. We will accept any level of escort you want to give us. Our beef is not with you unless you want to make it that way.

"I'm ready to die for my cause, right here if necessary. Can you say the same? You might even take me out, but the rest of this team will obliterate you before you can even call for help and then the rest of your gang as well if you try to stop us."

"So what's it going to be?"

[Mahaloth]

"No one about what happens anymore, anyway," Sinthia mutters to herself....and yet oddly loud enough for others to hear.

She raises her arms and begins to mutter what sounds like a spell.

"Heat" is the only word anyone can understand.

Sinthia is preparing a massive fireball attack. She is waiting to see how Goethe's intimidation goes. She will likely use 1 point of Edge in her attack if it goes forward.

[Mosier]

Originally Posted by Hoopy Frood

"So what's it going to be?"

Goethe and 4509 have each had a small amount of success intimidating the Rot Iron Punk, although the hardened street thug would never admit it.

The ork glances between his fellow gangers. Goethe reads the body language like an open book; the thug is nervous.

"Ain't afraid of vampires," the ork says. "Ain't afraid of 'borgs, neither," he says a bit less convincingly as his eyes briefly dart toward 4509. "But we Punks are businessmen. Looks like we got something you want, but nothing's free. You want an evening bein' a tourist in Punk turf? The price is your 'copter."

Nail chips in. "You've got a deal, handsome," he says eagerly.

"Wasn't finished," the ork continues. "The price is your 'copter, and your 'borg." Even 4509 is taken by surprise by the ork's demand.

"Not a chance," Goethe says reflexively. "He's not an object. We can't just trade him."

"Well, technically..." Nail says.

"Shut up," Goethe snaps back.

The ork clarifies his demand. "Not forever, see. We just need a front man enforcer for an...operation...we got planned against the fairies on 72nd. Mean lookin' thing like your tin-man would probably jump at the chance to hurt some elves, amirite?" As he speaks, he turns toward 4509, clearly addressing the last part toward the cyborg. "What do you think, tin-man? Finish up whatever revenge bullshit you got goin' on, and then join the Punks for a few days? Or you could kill me and my boys, and have a thousand angry orks pissin' on your corpses tonight."

[AClockworkMelon]

"You aren't getting me or the vehicle. You're letting us pass or you die."

[Mosier]

Originally Posted by AClockworkMelon

"You aren't getting me or the vehicle. You're letting us pass or you die."

The ork holds his ground, at first. "You sure?" he says gruffly. "Wouldn't want you to do something you'll regret." In response, 4509 simply walks past him.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your life, chum," the ork says to 4509's back. Goethe catches a murderous note in the ork's tone, but surprisingly the beefy ganger with the wild mohawk stows his rifle and backs away.

"Jazzy, Blitz," the ork says, addressing his two allies by name. "Let's bounce. Yer borin' our new friends to death." The two normal-sized orks exchange a mutinous glance, but eventually follow their leader's command and lower their own weapons. The ork trio starts to walk away.

Nightshade considers the orks thoughtfully as they depart. "You know this isn't over, right?" she points out to the rest of the crew. "Seems like a future problem we can solve right now, if you know what I mean."

Nail shakes his head. "You really want to shoot them in the back?"

Nightshade shrugs. "Why not?"

The ork chief and his crew have retreated, for now. Anyone who wants to get a bit more blood on their hands has a chance to attack the gangers with a surprise initiative pass.

[Hoopy Frood]

They let their guard down. Odd. They must know we can destroy the three of them without even breaking a sweat, so why give us the opportunity. What's their game? Maybe they think you're too honorable to shoot someone in the back. Awfully large gamble to take. There's got to be more to it. Guess there's only one way to find out....

As the trio walks away, Geothe raises his Assault rifle and taking aim at the leader shouts to him:

"Hold up. I can see if I can get you the chopper. I can't make any guarantees, but I'll talk to the guy who owns it. If he's willing to part with it, it's yours after we complete our mission. However, if you attack us, all bets are off. This means if you want to make the cyborg here part of the deal, well, you'll have to have that out with him. That's the best I can do.

"Besides, you might not be afraid of vampires, but these guys are trying to find a way to cyber themselves. As you can see from 4509 here, cyborgs aren't much for making deals. You think the cybervamps will be any better? You think they're not going to start turning your gang into cyberghouls, slaves to their every whim?

"It costs you almost nothing to give us passage through your turf, and additionally, you stand to get your own chopper out of it. I suggest you think real hard before you turn this down. Of course, if I can't get the chopper, well, I guess we might as well just fight it out. Because you've already made your position clear. And we can't let you leave if we don't come to some agreement. You and your gang want to fight us, we start it right here and now. You will not leave here alive."

Goethe waits to see what the leader does. If he keeps on walking, Goethe will open a full burst into him. If the leader pauses instead, Geothe will call Rescigno on the commlink, keeping an eye on the gangers for any surprise moves.

"Rescigno. We got a bit of an issue here. The only chance we have of not having to fight our way through the gang turf is to give them the helicopter when we're done here. They also want to borrow 4509 for a bit. He told them they weren't getting either him or the helicopter. While what 4509 does on his own time none of us really have any control over, giving them the chopper is something you can authorize. And I suggest you do it. Consider a cost of doing business in the shadows. Because if we want to take these followers of the Dark down, we're going to need all the resources we can have. I really don't want to be wasting bullets here on a fight that even with us winning, we still lose."

[AClockworkMelon]

4509 waits for word from Rescigno before continuing.

[Mosier]

Originally Posted by Hoopy Frood

"Rescigno. We got a bit of an issue here. The only chance we have of not having to fight our way through the gang turf is to give them the helicopter when we're done here. They also want to borrow 4509 for a bit. He told them they weren't getting either him or the helicopter. While what 4509 does on his own time none of us really have any control over, giving them the chopper is something you can authorize. And I suggest you do it. Consider a cost of doing business in the shadows. Because if we want to take these followers of the Dark down, we're going to need all the resources we can have. I really don't want to be wasting bullets here on a fight that even with us winning, we still lose."

The ork has already been humiliated in front of his minions. When Goethe yells at him to wait, the ork simply waves him off with a dismissive gesture. "You know our price, mutt."

Rescigno says via comlink, "I don't like how this is going down. The 'copter means nothing to UO, but it alone doesn't seem to be enough. You're on your own. 4509 won't be UO property after this mission, so I can't promise his service."

Over a channel only 4509 can hear, Rescigno says, "For once in your goddamned life, why don't you sacrifice for the greater good? You kill The Dark and you're a free man, just like I promised. Looks like this gang will even let you run amok, killing to your heart's desire anyway. Why not make the deal?"

[AClockworkMelon]

After receiving Rescigno's private communication, 4509 considers, motionless and silent. Finally he gives Goethe a small nod.

[Hoopy Frood]

Gothe again addresses the leader:

"The chopper's all yours. And it appears that the cyborg is willing to lend you his services as well. Though, I really gotta wonder if you truly know what you're in for by hiring him. He doesn't exactly play well with others.

"But it's not my problem. We've put up our part of the contract. It's time for you to put up yours."

Goethe holsters his rifle and walks off following the gangers.

"Let's go." he says to the rest of the team.

Why can't people check their egos at the door when making business deals. The world would move much smoother....

[Mosier]

Originally Posted by Hoopy Frood

"The chopper's all yours. And it appears that the cyborg is willing to lend you his services as well."

The ork stops and turns around. "That's what I like to hear," he says. His minions Jazzy and Blitz look up at the giant ork with awe at his negotiation skill. Nail is profoundly annoyed, and mutters under his breath.

"Alright chums, here's how this is gonna' work. You want to cross RIP turf? You get an escort. You're gonna see my pretty mug til' you're off my property. You show me where we're going, I'll walk you there, we cap some some vamps, then I walk you back. How you get home is your own problem, 'cept the 'borg. He stays. Any questions?"

"Yeah. What do we call you?" Nail says. "I was thinking 'hey you,' but I'm flexible."

The ork laughs at Nail. "Call me Pop."

"Pop? Your parents must have been so proud," Nail says.

"What parents?" Pop replies. "Alright, enough jabberin'. We got work to do." Pop nods toward Jazzy and Blitz and says, "Go show the boss our new toy."

The helicopter rotors begin to turn even before the two smaller orks board. One of them must be a technomancer, Goethe realizes. Pretty sophisticated for a street thug. Soon the 'copter lifts off and zips away, leaving the crew alone with Pop the mohawked ork.

Pop makes a nodding gesture toward RIP turf behind him. "We ready?"

[Hoopy Frood]

Geothe responds.

"Yeah, I think we're ready. By the way, the name's Goethe. I'll let the others introduce themselves if they're so inclined."

[Mahaloth]

Sinthia has lowered her arms, realizing that they will advance with no fight.

She sits down on the ground and lowers her head. It's hard to see, but it's pretty obvious her eyes are closed. Her legs are pulled up to her chest.

Is she praying? Crying? .......sleeping? Who knows?

[AClockworkMelon]

4509 is ready to go. He doesn't introduce himself.

[Mosier]

"You whelps sure you're ready for this?" Pop says, casting a doubtful glance down toward Sinthia.

"Just get on with it," Nightshade says. She's looking around suspiciously, certainly not trusting the Punk guide. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Right," Pop says. He leads the group into the dingy neighborhood. Nightshade walks beside him, uploading the address of the building UO detected the surge from.

"Hmm," Pop says as he sees the group's destination. "Can't say I expected vamps outta' that place."

"Why not?" Nightshade asks. "Our intel says it's just an old abandoned supermarket."

"Yeah, not exactly 'abandoned,' as I'm sure you figured out already. Not exactly a supermarket, either. The place was cleared out by a Punk crew a couple months ago. Remodeling for the new tenants." Pop chuckles at the ridiculous sound of himself mimicking a real businessman. "Anyway, it's fancy-pants high tech in there. Draws electricity like you wouldn't believe. Not exactly what you'd expect from an undead lair."

"Bingo," Nail says.

A sudden movement catches Goethe's eye. A shadow slipping out of sight around the corner ahead. Pop seems oblivious. Either he's got the best poker-face in the world, or the person that shadow belongs to isn't a Rot Iron Punk. Nightshade catches Goethe's eye, and nods slightly. She's seen it too. She gestures toward an alley. Goethe realizes he may be able to separate from the group, take the alley around the building and catch the unknown person by surprise on the other side.

4509, Sinthia, and Nail have not noticed the figure. Any verbal warning may alert the person shadowing the group, and spoil any chance to catch the suspect.

[Hoopy Frood]

Goethe slows to get out of sight behind Pops and then gesturing so that neither Pops nor the guy shadowing them can notice, indicates to Sinthia to keep Pops distracted. He'll then try to discretely break off from the group and sneak up on the Shadower.

Assuming he's successful, at sneaking up at the shadow, he'll shove his AK into its back and say:

"Make any sudden moves or sounds and you die right here. Now move forward into the open, where my crew and the gangers can both see you. It's not wise to go skulking around in the dark in gang territory, ya know. Accidents can happen."

[Mosier]

Pop is keeping an eye out for trouble ahead, completely oblivious to both the person who has been shadowing the group and Goethe slipping silently away into the alley. Pop is merrily carrying on a conversation with nobody, as the rest of the crew is watching Goethe with a puzzled look, except Nightshade. She knows exactly what's going on.

A few moments later, Goethe emerges from the corner on the opposite side of the building, his AK pressed into a person's back, between the shoulder blades. "It's not wise to go skulking around in gang territory, ya know. Accidents can happen," Goethe says. Pop immediately raises his own rifle at the sneaking figure.

"Take it easy," the sneak says. It's an elf with a crude, low-quality cybernetic arm. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"What the hell's going on here?" Pop demands.

The elf glances around at the motley crew of unlikely Shadowrunners. "I could ask the same thing from you," he says. "Bunch of misfits with a guide in RIP turf. Smells fishy."

Pop angrily swings his assault rifle around on its shoulder strap to a resting position at his back and advances on the elf with outstretched hands. He wraps his hands around the elf's neck and squeezes, as the elf struggles in his grip.

"A filthy 72nd rat, huh?" Pop growls as he chokes his victim. "Wanna' send some intel back to your fairy bosses, huh? Well, I got a message for 'em! I'll write it on your corpse!"

"Hey, calm down," Nail says.

But Pop ignores him. He slams the elf against a brick wall, opening a gash along the elf's temple that immediately begins bleeding. The elf sinks to the ground, dazed. Goethe can see the elf is completely helpless, and steps in front of Pop.

"Watch it, champ," Goethe says. "We don't kill people for snooping, and when you're with us, you don't either. I don't care who's turf we're on. Got it?"

For a moment, Goethe nervously considers the possibility that Pop will tear him apart. The orc certainly looks strong enough to be up to the task. But Goethe doesn't flinch, and his nerves don't show. Pop sizes him up, looks him in the eye, and sees nothing but steely resolve. The burly ork comes to his senses, and the moment of terrifying rage passes.

Pop's not about to just let a rival walk away, though.

"You want to let him live? Fine. But I sure as hell 'aint gonna let him walk out of here." With sudden, furious violence, Pop lifts his foot and brings it crashing down into the elf's knee. There's a gruesome *snap* as the elf's leg breaks and he cries out in pain. Pop resumes his stare-down with Goethe, but now with a grin. "Problem solved, right?"

The elf cries out in between his shouts of agony, "I heard everything! I know the deal your cyborg made! Don't do it! You're good people, not like them. They're animals, who only want the thrill of murder."

"Shut up, dog," Pop says. "We have an agreement. You got nothing they want, and I do. Tough break. Har har! Tough break! Get it?" He nudges his foot against the elf's mangled knee, causing a fresh scream of agony from the elf.

"I can get you to the vamp lair!" the elf shouts. "There's more of us here. We've been watching you, waiting to see if you'd go through with the deal. We don't have to be enemies."

Pop glances around nervously at the news that other elves may be hiding nearby, suddenly regretting his decision to escort the crew alone. He lifts a handheld comlink transmitter to call for backup, but the device won't broadcast.

"What the fuck did you do?" the ork screams in fury. "Fix it, monkey!"

The elf ignores Pop, and simply nods in gesture to his right. Three more elves emerge from hidden locations in the area, all with various small arms leveled at Pop and the crew. "We can help each other," the elf with the broken leg says. "Without your cyborg, RIP can't defeat us. We'll lead you to the vampire lair, if you break your agreement with RIP. We don't want anything else from you; just your word. If you decline, well...then we've got a whole extra set of problems..."

[Hoopy Frood]

"Never break a deal." Isn't that what you've always said? Sure, these RIP gangers are a bunch of low-life punks, but you've worked for worse in the past. The thing is, you've always held up your end as long as they've been straight with you. The only thing that matters is getting in and out of here safely. Why should you care about some meaningless gang squabbles? They've already got the chopper, and 4509 is their problem to deal with after this, not yours. So why break the deal you have going now?

Well, there is the matter of being caught in crossfire. Sure, your crew with the RIP gang will probably win, but once again you're looking at wasting resources for no real gain. But can you really turn on someone you have a business deal with...?

Goethe addresses the elf with a broken leg.

"Well, it looks like we've got problems either way. See, I never go back on a deal unless the other party has not kept up their end of it. Pops here has not done anything so far to indicate he plans to not follow through on his end. So I can't in good conscience betray him. You say you 'want my word', but what good is my word if I break a contract arbitrarily? What makes you think I wouldn't do the same to you if I got a better offer from yet another party?

"That being said, contracts do become void upon death of a party to the contract. Plus, none of this crew has agreed to protect the RIP gang should they encounter any problems in their turf. So if you guys want to take these the RIPers here out, none of us will get in your way. I don't give the ass of a rat's two shits about your gang wars. I just want to take that fucking cult down and be on my way.

"So have it out. I'll be over here in the corner waiting to continue with whoever comes out on top here. If either of you lot harm me or the rest of this crew, though, you'll likely find your odds of coming out on top here have just decresed dramatically if you catch my drift."

Goethe than walks off toward a nearby building out of the way and casually leans against it watching the festivities.

[AClockworkMelon]

If combat between the orks and elves does break out, 4509 doesn't intervene.

[Mosier]

Pop sneers at Goethe's comments. "Never seen an indecisive ork before," he mutters.

The elf on the ground with the broken leg is the first to fire, drawing a small pistol from his coat pocket. Pop sees the motion out of the corner of his eye, and turns just as the elf fires. The bullet miraculously tears a hole in Pop's tank-top shirt without hitting flesh. Pop responds by executing the elf with a single shot to the forehead.

"Party time!" Pop shouts with murderous glee as he turns toward the other elves. The three remaining elves scatter in opposite directions, taking cover behind a car, a building corner, and garbage dumpster. Pop squeezes a short burst from his assault rifle as he runs toward the car. The burst is ineffective, serving only to put some holes in the car's body panels.

The elf taking cover behind the building corner takes a moment to fire a carefully aimed shot at Pop's back. The bullet pierces the mighty ork's torso, causing a grunt of pain but otherwise little other obvious effect. The elf behind the trash dumpster also takes an aimed shot at the ork, firing a shot that crashes into Pop's thigh, but does nothing to slow the ork's momentum.

The elf at the car fires twice at the rampaging ork barreling toward him, but in his haste misses with both shots.

Pop's momentum carries him directly into the elf at the vehicle, sending both men to the ground in a heap, with Pop on top. A six inch cybernetic spike emerges from the palm of Pop's right hand, and he quickly brings it crushing down upon the helpless elf. The spike tears through the elf's flesh and bone, and his body goes limp beneath the ork after a single strike.

Pop stands and turns to face the other two elves, but finds that they have wisely made scarce. He hears their footsteps as they flee, out of sight but not out of earshot.

"The robot's the least of your worries! You're finished, you goddamn fairies!" Pop shouts at the fleeing elves. After a few moments, the footsteps fade away.

Pop is panting with exertion, jamming his finger uselessly against his comlink transmitter. Finally, with an outburst of tremendous rage, Pop crushes the transmitter in his hand and tosses it aside, muttering, "fuckin' thing."

As he walks back to the group, Pop sneers at the crew. "You pansies ready to go?" It's obvious that Pop has taken the group's unwillingness to pick a side as a sign of weakness. The atmosphere is different. Pop looks upon the crew with dismissal, and seems anxious to be rid of them.

"You've been shot," Synthia says. "Don't you want healing?"

Pop looks at Synthia, and curls his lip in disgust. "Nope," he says, and begins walking. "Let's go. Don't got all day to babysit."

[AClockworkMelon]

4509 follows Pop with his ultrasound emitter still very much active in case the elves make a return. He inconspicuously sizes the ork up in an attempt to determine the extent of his injuries.

[Hoopy Frood]

Figured the elves would have put up a bit more of a fight. Clearly they were expecting you to turn. Too bad for them they misjudged that. However, Pops obviously lost respect for you and thinks your crew is weaker. While this does pose the problem of him being more apt to try something if he thinks he'll come out ahead, at the same time, it shows how shortsighted he really is. He can't see beyond his little turf war. He can't understand that every combat you get involved with before you reach the cult's HQ is a waste of resources better spent taking them down. Let him underestimate your crew. It give you the upper edge. If he turns on you, he has no clue the Hell he'll bring upon his gang. You've seen him in action now. He's good, but ultimately, you and your crew are better.

But, at the same time, you likely haven't seen the last of those elves. They know your terms. Hopefully they don't hold your lack of helping them against you. If they do, well, they know you'll fight back. You've told them as much.

Goethe finds that the crew are in an odd position right now. They are moving among two warring factions that can't see past their own narrow view of the world. All they care about is some useless turf that no one except companies that don't want to draw attention to themselves even care about. But the cooler the crew plays it; the less they show their hand; the better it will turn out for them in the end. But that doesn't mean something can't change that calculation. The universe has a great ability to make shit go South real quick.

Nothing's ever easy, is it?

Goethe addresses Pops:

"Indecisive? Hardly. As I said, we don't care about your war. We have bigger fish to fry. I'm not going to waste my bullets pursuing a cause I don't benefit from. We have a deal. If you hold to your end; we'll hold to ours. It's that simple. You want additional help taking the elves out, you pay us. That's how it works. While we have no incentive to help them, we neither have any incentive to lend additional help to you beyond the cyborg's already agreed to terms. It's not indecisiveness, it's business. You aren't paying us to assist you. And I don't break contract. I've never broken one, even when it's been in my best interest to do so. From where I stand, that's a pretty damn decisive stance to take.

"But enough jawing and wasting time. It's time to go."

[Mosier]

The rest of the trip to the "abandoned" supermarket in Rot Iron Punk territory continues without event. Pop is cranky and weary from his injuries by the time he stops at the gate to the chain link fence surrounding building.

Rescigno pipes in over the comlink, to nobody in particular. "There hasn't been any activity near the building. Nobody's trying to escape. There's no way they don't know we're coming, which means they think they're safer inside than trying to run for it. Be careful. A cornered animal fights hardest."

"Great advice, boss," Nail says sarcastically. "We probably would've forgotten to be careful if you didn't remind us."

"I want everyone back in one piece," Rescigno says, ignoring Nail's quip.

Pop, oblivious to Rescigno's transmission, says, "Last stop, chumps. Good huntin'. RIP will be waiting out here, ready to enforce our contract with tin-man when you're done. Don't get killed, tin-man."

Pop levels his rifle at the lock holding the gate closed, and blasts it open. Then he walks away without another word.

"Charming guy," Nail says. "Miss him already."

Nightshade nods toward the retreating Pop. "I don't trust him, or his gang," she says to nobody in particular. After a moment of contemplation, she turns to the others and says, "We should post someone out here as a lookout, to watch our backs and make sure nobody else goes inside. Goethe's got the experience, Sinthia's got the magic, and tin-man...err...4509 has the muscle to take down The Dark. That leaves just Nail, or me. Which of us do you suppose should stay out here?"

[Hoopy Frood]

To Nightshade (and the rest of the group):

"My vote is that you stay behind, for no other reason than I've run with Nail longer. It's not a trust issue, it's an understanding issue. He knows how I think and strategize, and I know how he does. The extra efficiency this brings to an operation can mean the difference between life and death. But it's up to a majority here. If the other two vote that Nail stays behind, I'll accept the majority decision. You're both excellent runners and I'm happy to have both of you on the team."

[AClockworkMelon]

In case it isn't obvious, 4509 doesn't care either way who stays outside.