Difference between revisions of "Outlaw Country"
(Created page with "{{AARInfobox| <!-- Unless otherwise stated, it should no longer be necessary to tag anything here with wiki markup or use any brackets. --> <!-- Required: The date of the run in YYYY-MM-DD format. --> |Date=2084-07-30 <!-- Required: Name of the GM. --> |GM=YouMayFireWhenReady <!-- Required: Location where the run took place. If this is a page on the wiki, it will automatically be tagged as a Featured Location. --> |Location=Minneapolis-St. Paul Sprawl <!-- Optional:...") |
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==Player After Action Reports (AARs)== | ==Player After Action Reports (AARs)== | ||
[[Count of Three]] Bruh. This mission was mad lit. Started off as a simple destroy blackmail evidence from some chump. This chump got the dump, D.O.A. My mans Sizzles tracked the package down to a bar. Still easy. Walk through the saloon doors and wouldn't you know... THIRTY+ trolls biker ga--club. Good thing Chameleon knows how to talk, otherwise none of us would be talking for the next month 'till we get new cyber jaws. I wanted a shot of whiskey, but the bartender was only going to give me some brew, whatever the hell that is. Chugging that shit down, still don't know what the hell it was. BUT DAYUM. Had he smelling colours and seeing kaleidoscope paint... And I wasn't even drunk yet! Fml do the trolls know how to party. Got my shot and a new friend, then we had to bounce with the package. Wouldn't you believe, it was trapped for some god damn sprites to set off the bike alarms. We book out but now we have 30 bikers following us. Easy. I finally get to fire some rounds after 3 missions, and you wouldn't believe it. 15 Troll Bikers with 1 SHOT. They were falling over each other like dominoes. New record let's gooo! Did I mention that I was still smelling colours when I took the shot? #Sniper4Life | |||
[[Sizzles]] Decker's log: dancing to the tune. | |||
This one was contested - some technomancer was dogging my steps from beginning to end, and I couldn't do a thing about it. Can't say I'm sorry Tee is in the ground - Chameleon's big attachment to never icing anyone is a real thorn in my side, but hey, the techno had executed the sap before we ever rolled up. Sorry to say I didn't get to see the Saint Anthony Falls during my trip to the Twin Cities - the slipway is famous and they're the only set of falls on the Mississippi river. Got the job done, again, but _wow_ was my hoop puckered on this one. I'm always walking into a situation way above my pay grade with Hassan - I guess that's par for the course in this business. Still, with the disguises we were packing, I don't think it's gonna do much for my rep. That's probably for the best. God damn, that trog was _terrifying_. Was he gonna try to smash our damn car with muscle power alone? Hell, maybe he coulda done it. | |||
I like Armata - low-key, skilled, decisive. Count was reliable as always - I think we share a fraternal bond in faking it 'til we make it. Chameleon greased the wheels once again - that guy may be a difficult personality but he does come through in a pinch, and there always is one - in this case, thirty of them. If Hassan remembers what we did for him this go, I'm gonna find myself with an awful lot of political friends, which is deeply ironic and painfully sad. Maybe I need to make some earthier friends. | |||
[[Chameleon]]: Note to self: Never again drink Hurlg. It was the Hurlg that made me think it was a good idea to pick every pocket on that Troll MC club leader while reeking from Hurlg vomit and just a whisper of Aztech Fly. Didn't find anything anywhere but both his tailor and I know that he dresses to the right ;) Now if I can just convince those runners that the obsequious groveling that saved my life was a great performance. Yeah, I was acting...that's the ticket. | |||
[[Armata]] First time working the shadows in Seattle. Was an interesting premise, some love story gone wrong with blackmail, met some smart teamwork folks. Made some easy cash. Can't ask for much more. Then there was the Troll bar, with angry trolls. We could have taken them but opting to drink their filth was at least amusing in itself. Ended in climactic fashion. A good old car chase. Thirty trolls vs one bullet and a Ford Americar. Trolls all lost and the car was still in salvageable shape. Good times. Looking forward to the next one. |
Latest revision as of 01:40, 3 August 2023
Outlaw Country | ||||||||||
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Part of The Metroplex Governor Race of '84 Part of It's a Small Underworld After All | ||||||||||
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Factions Involved | ||||||||||
ShadowHaven New Century Party | Archconservative Party | Iron Bridge MC | ||||||||
Armata Chameleon Count of Three Sizzles | AP Shadowrunner | Iron Bridge MC Bikers | ||||||||
Casualties and losses | ||||||||||
None | None |
Summary
The team has been hired to head to the Minneapolis-St. Paul Sprawl to recover materials that may be damaging to the NCP Election in the Seattle Metroplex, and to silence the blackmailer until after the election is over. But this is no milk run…
Background
Angela Darcy, the New Century Party candidate in the Seattle Metroplex Gubernatorial Election, has a problem. Her ex from her university days has possession of a handwritten notebook that contains a political manifesto that is far further to the left than her focus-grouped left-of-center campaign in this election. And that ex has started to blackmail the campaign.
Hassan Bahreini, the federal NCP Youth Chair, is pulling out his hair in Seattle. He’s dealing with the blackmailer directly, trying to keep him from contacting Darcy and potentially upending her campaign. But the blackmailer is seemingly not motivated by nuyen, but revenge: having dumped Angela Darcy years ago for not being “good enough” for them, the partner now is seething with jealousy at her ascendance.
The Meet
Mr. Johnson, Hassan Bahreini, invites the team to the Illuminates of the New Dawn building in Downtown Seattle. A member of the public magical order, Hassan has been literally hiding from Angela Darcy for the last 24 hours, stressed and struggling to keep the blackmailer temporarily wrangled. He tells the team that his operational budget for the campaign is almost completely empty (so many shadowrunners to hire!) The team negotiates with him and he uses his own money to buy them high speed express station-to-station train tickets from the Seattle Metroplex to the Minneapolis-St. Paul Sprawl. He also puts them up in a safehouse and rents them a vehicle.
The Plan
The team does research on their target: TeeGracchus, a North American Matrix celebrity and political pundit on the far-left. It turns out that TeeGracchus sold out to Ares and has been living a cushy life in the 3M micro-arcology in downtown MCP. The team decide to rent a low lifestyle apartment in the lowest levels of the 3M building to give them easier access to the building and its facilities. They plan to have Chameleon use his adept powers to look exactly like the type of woman that TeeGracchus is attracted to, go to their door, and force themselves in. Once inside they’ll interrogate them and find the original notebook as well as force them to give up any electronic copies and then Slab them until the election is over.
The Run
Everything proceeds according to plan, at first. The team gets their apartment, finds TeeGracchus’s pad, scopes the place out via the Matrix. Chameleon does their magic and the team goes up. When they go to ring the door it unlocks and opens, and Sizzles notices a sprite appear briefly and seemingly do something to the apartment’s central control panel.
Inside they find TeeGracchus dead, apparently after unaliving themselves in the bathroom with a shotgun. Sizzles inspects the apartment’s computer system and determines that someone has come in, erased footage, and set up a loop…that terminated the moment they rang the bell. Realizing that they’re being set up for a murder, the team grabs the deceased’s commlink, wipes all the footage in the apartment, and carefully leave the 3M building.
They discover in the commlink that the Archconservatives found out about the blackmail material, and offered to pay a handsome sum for it. When TeeGracchus refused and the Archconservatives cut off contact, they began to fear for their lives. They made arrangements with someone to smuggle them out to at least Fargo.
Sizzles is able to track down the still-active burner commlink to a bar east of the central Sprawl, along I-94. The team heads straight away, unaware that the Archconservative-hired shadowrunner is tailing them. Crossing through huge Aztechnology corporate croplands they pulled up at The Hinterland bar and strolled in.
Inside they found the Iron Bridge MC, a troll-only criminal motorcycle club. Record scratch.
Quickly the team were able to make difficult Etiquette tests to not get their asses immediately beat. The owner/bartender, a troll celebrity named Midwest Nice, tells them they must drink if they want to stay and serves them hurlg. The all-human party is in shambles, but Armata and Count of Three manage to hold onto their wits the best, impressing Midwest Nice.
Sizzles tracks down the burner commlink to the leader of the gang. Chameleon puts on a Performance and stumbles drunk and falls into him, using Palming to search for a rolled up notebook. Unable to find it and now with the MC angry the team flee, but not before Midwest Nice gives Count of Three a shot for the road and his commlink number.
Outside they search through the leader’s heavy combat trog-bike and find the rolled up evidence in a saddle bag. Just then, the Archconservative shadowrunner unleashed sprites to attack all the bikes, setting off a wave of alarms. Armata pulled up in his car and the team spilled in as the trolls came running out the bar.
A chase is on! The poor Ford Americar can’t keep pace with the troll bikers of the Iron Bridge MC closing in. Count of Three cut a hole through the backseat and Armata disengaged the trunk, so that Count could get a firing angle through the trunk at the rushing bikers.
Count of Three kept sniping a bike, causing a few to crash behind them...until he sniped one bike and caused a dozen to crash in one huge pile. At that point, racing up from the rear, the MC leader had enough and went berserk. He put his motorcycle into overdrive, got himself out of Count of Zero’s firing arc, and closed in on the car.
Chameleon laid down suppressive fire at him which made the troll even angrier. He pulled off the Osmium mace he had strapped to his back and moved in to destroy the car.
Armata could have hit the brakes, or gone off road into the crops to try to lose him in the difficult terrain.
Instead his thrill seeker part of his brain said: “Nah, fuck this guy.” And Armata rammed him.
Neither crashed. But Armata did just enough damage to disable the bike, which powered off, and Armata and the team left him and the rest of the crashed MC roaring in fury behind them.
Aftermath
They called Hassan to let him know that TeeGracchus was dead, the original blackmail material recovered, and no suggestion that the MC had made any copies or that TeeGracchus had set up and Dead Man Drops. Deeply relieved Hassan sent the team the second half of their payment, along with his thanks!
Rewards
20,000 Nuyen (10 RVP)
10 Karma (10 RVP)
Optional Qualities at Chargen: Drug Tolerant (Count of Three and Armata)
Optional Contact: Midwest Nice, Troll Bar Owner (Connection 5/Loyalty 1)
(Count of Three may take Midwest Nice at Loyalty 2)
Game Quotes
Player After Action Reports (AARs)
Count of Three Bruh. This mission was mad lit. Started off as a simple destroy blackmail evidence from some chump. This chump got the dump, D.O.A. My mans Sizzles tracked the package down to a bar. Still easy. Walk through the saloon doors and wouldn't you know... THIRTY+ trolls biker ga--club. Good thing Chameleon knows how to talk, otherwise none of us would be talking for the next month 'till we get new cyber jaws. I wanted a shot of whiskey, but the bartender was only going to give me some brew, whatever the hell that is. Chugging that shit down, still don't know what the hell it was. BUT DAYUM. Had he smelling colours and seeing kaleidoscope paint... And I wasn't even drunk yet! Fml do the trolls know how to party. Got my shot and a new friend, then we had to bounce with the package. Wouldn't you believe, it was trapped for some god damn sprites to set off the bike alarms. We book out but now we have 30 bikers following us. Easy. I finally get to fire some rounds after 3 missions, and you wouldn't believe it. 15 Troll Bikers with 1 SHOT. They were falling over each other like dominoes. New record let's gooo! Did I mention that I was still smelling colours when I took the shot? #Sniper4Life
Sizzles Decker's log: dancing to the tune.
This one was contested - some technomancer was dogging my steps from beginning to end, and I couldn't do a thing about it. Can't say I'm sorry Tee is in the ground - Chameleon's big attachment to never icing anyone is a real thorn in my side, but hey, the techno had executed the sap before we ever rolled up. Sorry to say I didn't get to see the Saint Anthony Falls during my trip to the Twin Cities - the slipway is famous and they're the only set of falls on the Mississippi river. Got the job done, again, but _wow_ was my hoop puckered on this one. I'm always walking into a situation way above my pay grade with Hassan - I guess that's par for the course in this business. Still, with the disguises we were packing, I don't think it's gonna do much for my rep. That's probably for the best. God damn, that trog was _terrifying_. Was he gonna try to smash our damn car with muscle power alone? Hell, maybe he coulda done it.
I like Armata - low-key, skilled, decisive. Count was reliable as always - I think we share a fraternal bond in faking it 'til we make it. Chameleon greased the wheels once again - that guy may be a difficult personality but he does come through in a pinch, and there always is one - in this case, thirty of them. If Hassan remembers what we did for him this go, I'm gonna find myself with an awful lot of political friends, which is deeply ironic and painfully sad. Maybe I need to make some earthier friends.
Chameleon: Note to self: Never again drink Hurlg. It was the Hurlg that made me think it was a good idea to pick every pocket on that Troll MC club leader while reeking from Hurlg vomit and just a whisper of Aztech Fly. Didn't find anything anywhere but both his tailor and I know that he dresses to the right ;) Now if I can just convince those runners that the obsequious groveling that saved my life was a great performance. Yeah, I was acting...that's the ticket.
Armata First time working the shadows in Seattle. Was an interesting premise, some love story gone wrong with blackmail, met some smart teamwork folks. Made some easy cash. Can't ask for much more. Then there was the Troll bar, with angry trolls. We could have taken them but opting to drink their filth was at least amusing in itself. Ended in climactic fashion. A good old car chase. Thirty trolls vs one bullet and a Ford Americar. Trolls all lost and the car was still in salvageable shape. Good times. Looking forward to the next one.