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[IC] Shadowrun: Bishop. Chapter 1 - Unnamed, for now.
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Sending a command to the roto-drone to head closer to the (really weird) lightning, Michael also told his Hotspur to release the Chariot drone. After commanding it to search the areas nearby Michael finally launched his Steel Lynx.
“Lynx, guard 2nd Lt. Key,” he indicated the elf on his AR display, “and me from any hostiles. Protection of 2nd Lt. Key is given higher priority then protection of myself. "
She's on a bike after all. No safe, bulletproof glass between her and... giant... porcupine... spirit... things. Man, I really wish I had more Steel Lynxes. Or was a hundred kilometers away from here. Either one.
Sighing, Michael called the Captain to report in. “Strickland here, drones have been dispatched and are currently searching the area.”
A Knight Errant patrol car pulls up about fifty yards from the intersection, and Frankie carefully extracts himself and his gear from the back seat. Having done so he thumps hard on the roof of the car twice and shouts out "Thanks, buddy, I owe ya one."
Fully kitted out, Frankie looks every bit the Ares recruiting poster. Sleek full body armor mottled in shades of grey, green and blue; Ares shotgun slung over his black, and a wonderfully-maintained Ares sniper rifle being carried in a (currently) non-hostile manner. He's even got matching patches on his uniform and weapon; a stylised thunderbird.
Acting chill and professional now that he's in public (Ares PR and his wife have trained him well), he salutes Raven and starts heading over to clarify an issue, doing a quick headcount of Lone Star personnel and lallygagging civilians.
"Ma'am, I need authority to procure a Grade-E sentient magical asset or two, for recon and environmental protection; do I have that authorization to do so?"
Current loadout:
full body armor
Ares Thunderbird (sniper rifle) + 3 clips APDS (10)
Ares DX49 (shotgun) + 3 clips normal (10)
Large Smuggling compartment contains: 2 of above-mentioned clips; also a cold naan bread wrapped around leftover irish stew. Mmmmm.
--
An itch begins to gnaw at your mind, Frankie. Maybe it's the pressure, or the emotions coming from the crowd, but you begin to feel uneasy.
A rock comes flying dangerously close to your head from in front.
"Anything you need me to do? I could cruise around in my Comet so there'd be an extra set of eyes but until we have an enemy my skills aren't that useful."
Key sighed, glancing around casually as she drove through the deserted, rainy streets.
This could be a lot more fun if there were some people to race with here.
She quickly rushed forward, pressing herself flat against the side of the building. "Do whatever you need, Thunderbird, but keep it on its leash till we need it. Crow, Gino, Strickland, get to my location!" She kept her weapon scanning roofward. "Key, report in, and get yourself back here, now!"
They'd better not have hurt my bike.
Turning around quickly, she attempts to brush the spiders off of her bike, making a break for the line of Lone Star security.
As a precautionary measure, Crow mentally nudged his Wired Reflex system to get it warmed up and humming. A tiny icon appeared on his cybernetic vision display, indicating the system was fully activated. Grabbing his Ares Alpha from his driver's-side holster, he set the rifle in his lap and sent a second mental signal. This message flipped the Alpha from "Safety" to "Full auto". The Captain's order had sounded urgent enough to convince the dwarf that the situation was about to really get cooking.
Crow stopped the van near the Captain, noting that she was clearly looking for something up high. He shifted the van into park, keyed off the motor, and opened the door. He hopped out and, mimicking the Captain's posture, pressed himself against the van's side. Using both the vehicle's body and the door as cover, he began scanning the rooftops himself. Thermals were picking up tantalizing flickers and slivers here and there, but whatever was up didn't seem ready to reveal a full profile yet.
Hope we don't have to engage right here. Can't risk offensive grenades around this crowd. A bad blast might bring down a building right on top of them.
First burst (15d6.hits(5)=5)
Second burst (14d6.hits(5)=4)
Wow, that was some pretty terrible rolls. Anyway, Smartlink on my gun and glasses gives me +2, and the Sakura Fubuki only takes a -1 recoil penalty on the second burst rather than the usual -3/-4. Both bursts are narrow, aimed at whatever's behind me. Still got 34 bullets in my gun.
--
Frankie's head begins to throb, an asperin would probably be helpful around now.
No clue about that voice, but this is definitely not normal.
Still keeping an eye on the rooftops, the dwarf turns to face the Mueller's general direction. "Hey Captain! You hearing this voice or is just me?"
Intuition(4) + Willpower(2) + Perception(3) = 9 dice.
9d6.hits(5) = 2
He could feel the magical energies flowing as the spirit start to bend to his will, but something other was interfering. The headache and chills he'd been suffering since he arrived on the scene were apparently more of a hindrance than he'd expected, and just as he was reaching the peak of the ritual, the mystic energies cut off with a snap; the experience very much akin to brain freeze, leaving Frankie reeling & staggering to maintain his position.
"AARGH! Frag it!"
Seeking respite from the discomfort, he snaps open the visor of his helmet and takes a couple of deep breaths to recompose himself.
Spirit's Force check5d6 - 2 hits
Drain resistance: Drain value to beat is 2x2 - 4 hits
Willpower+Charisma 8d6 - 2 hits
Summary: No spirit comes, Frankie takes two boxes of stun damage. Huzzah!
Michael panicked slightly at Raven's command but managed to calm himself with the familiar litany he'd made up during his first combat situation with his drones.
Metal. Safe metal. Jump. Shoot.
Jumping into his Steel Lynx, Michael felt safe. He had armor and a big gun. And he wasn't actually there. Best part of rigging. Moving his new, sleek body to the Captain's side, he started searching the rooftops with his electronic eyes. His minigun was armed and ready to fire as soon as he saw anything. Meanwhile, the meat body of Michael Strickland was curled in a protective ball in the driver's seat of the Hotspur, its mind not there at the moment.
No spiny felines or other mysterious metacritters have shown themselves since the one Key put down. From down the empty street, you can hear a blood curdling scream and hurried footsteps. With the advanced visual capabilities your team is capable of, it's easy to make out a human male running towards you, constantly checking over his shoulder. He's dressed in the latest trendy suit with shifting colors and patterns, a pair of thick black sunglasses over his eyes. Something dark is partially obscured behind him.
As he runs he tries to identify the chased man and hopes that he'll make it before the thing catches up to him.
Not waiting for Strickland to respond, Crow quickly moved around his van and out into the street, keeping his weapon trained on the nearest rooftop and glancing at the one across the street. Stinking magic. World's crazy enough already without people making giant alleycat monsters. Against conventional weapons, moving into the open street was a risk at the very least. However, these things looked like they wanted to get up close and nasty; Crow wanted as much open space between them and him as possible.
Even if these quill-things do have some long-range surprises, I'm betting they'll have to pop up to hit us anyway. I'd rather have at least a chance at some clear shots instead of getting some critter-magic square in the back. Ignoring the distraction down the road wasn't easy, but Crow knew he still had plenty of time to respond if that black mess decided to get personal. No telling how fast those quillcats could get down here, though. Doubt we want to find out, though.
Kneeling in the street, the dwarf remained focused on the rooftops. With the hammering rain, his thermal vision was now completely free of interference. He stepped up his image magnification and waited for the hostiles to make the first move.
The uneasy silence, while disturbing, is a little bit more comforting than noisy chaos. Concentrating again, Frankie focuses on the more familiar tones of the spirits of man; not as rich or sharp as the true nature spirits; more sporadic in nature. As he tenses up, Frankie projects a thought with his summoner's call, furrowing his brow.
Spirits, you listen! That silence is death! You gonna die with it? Help me, for frags sake! Help me help you!
A thoughtful moment passes, and Frankie feels the release of a successful call to the spirit world being placed, the being's presence making itself known to him.
OK then shaman, you got me. This better be good.
In more satisfied tones, Frankie jumps on the comms again as he moves to get a bit of cover, and says "Asset online, captain, waitin' fer further instructions."
Frankie gives up on air and tries to summon a Spirit of Man
9d6 (Magic+Summoning) vs 5d6 (Spirit Force) = 5 vs 1 = 4 net successes!
Willpower+Charisma vs Drain Value (need 2 hits) = 2 successes, no drain
Summary: 4 services from a Force 5 Spirit of Man, no drain taken
Spirit of Man can...
vs a target
Accident - can cause a target to mess up. 10d6 vs Rea+Int opposed roll, or can force a vehicle to make a crash test with -5 penalty.
Confusion - 10d6 vs Willpower. Net hits deduct from target's dice pools
Influence - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target follows suggestion or changes emotion.
Fear - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target flees for 1 Combat Turn per net success. Target must succeed at Will+Cha vs (net success) test to return or face off with spirit again.
Group Buffs
Concealment - can cover up to 5 people; people trying to perceive them get -5 dice.
Guard - protect up to 5 people; prevents Accident and ca be used to prevent glitches.
Can also just lay the smackdown also. Gets 2 initiative passes in physical, ignores most physical damage.
Running up the length of an overturned truck, he leaps into the air and grabs a hold of a street sign. Moments later, the truck is knocked away by the multi-ton rushing steaks. If he loses his grip, he's going to get stamped flat or skewered.
--
The rooftops seem clear, for now. You swear you saw a senorita in a flowing crimson skirt and white puffy shirt in one of the upper windows, but she is gone in a blink. Over the sound of stampeding hooves, there seems to be a faint cheering in the air but its source is unplacable.
"It all seems to be smoke and mirrors, captain! I've got no damn idea what's going on!"
I'll let you know now, Shaman. I only came because you seem to be moving closer to the fun going on tonight. Bore me and I'll have to create my own entertainment.
The smile widens as the eye sockets flash red momentarily. When Raven turns towards you, the shadow behaves perfectly normally. The voice is of the scale between male and female, with a slight cityspeak accent.
"Aaaaaah, we got some high-scale paranormal activity to say the least, ma'am, and I got no idea why or how, but I reckon we gotta get movin' and take a position. Whatever it is knows where we are, an' this spirit is givin' me backchat."
Readying his shotgun and checking its workings, Frankie queries, "Have we got any other info from recon yet?"
About fifty feet away from you, he pulls a plastic bottle out of his jacket and drops a few white specks into his hand. Tilting his head way back, he slams them down his throat. With his free hand, he pulls something else out from his jacket and points it in your direction. "Alright pilgrims, let me show you how to shoot down some of these 'ere cans." The Ruger Super Warhawk that's now oriented towards you certainly looks real.
OK, something really weird is going on. This guy looks too high-class to be a random crazy; we slot him and we could end up dealing with a lot worse than some fake bulls. After defaulting his image magnification to the normal level and switching the Alpha to semi-auto fire, Crow begins to take careful aim at the Ruger.
"Captain! Give me the go ahead and I'll take a shot at that weapon! No promises, though; I might hit the guy or totally miss, so call it!" Unless he takes a potshot at me; then all bets are off.
Initiative score = Initiative + Initiative hits = 16
Free Action: Call Shot (aim for Ruger) = -4 dice to hit the Ruger.
Simple Action: Take Aim = +1 to hit.
Simple Action: Delay Action (try to shoot the pistol, but waiting for an order or to see if the guy shoots at me).
Ok, spectral bulls. Fair enough. Absolutely insane, but hey, that's magic, right? Giant tree demolishing a building, quillcats terrifying citizens. It's all magic. But now some psycho is pointing a gun at the team? Not fair.
He's aiming a freaking pistol at us! Do I shoot him? He's just some guy!
Hearing Crow, Michael decides that shooting a unhinged civilian with a minigun might cause some bad publicity. Instead, he sends a mental command for his Chariot to come to his position as quickly as possible.
Let's see how this psycho likes Stick-n-Shock rounds.
Raven quickly instructed her weapon to drop the loaded clip to the ground, slapping in a magazine of Stick-n-shock. She swiftly brings the weapon to her shoulder, aims, and squeezes the trigger twice.
Reaction Intuition = 9 + (9d6.hits(5)=4)
Wired Reflexes are on, using both initiative passes if necessary.
Firing a double tap (two SA shots) of stick and shock ammo.
Agility 8 Automatics 4 SMG specialization 2 Smartgun 2 = 16
Target is running -2
First shot has no recoil, second shot is cancelled out by recoil compensation (1)
Smartgun is using image magnification and thermographic vision for no modifiers for range, and -2 from heavy rain. (12d6.hits(5)=5, 12d6.hits(5)=4)
Stick and Shock damage is 6s, AP -half, and uses impact armor.