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Splicer J
The soft beep of a bio-monitor filled the room. Splicer slumped down in the chair that sat next to the bed where Nicodemus's inert form lay; he would probably survive, barring any nasty infections or bad luck.

"You poor motherfucker. Normally I don't do this for people - if I didn't like Bob so much, I probably would have just taken your organs for profit. Not that I didn't profit off this, but you'd understand that."

Splicer flipped through the chart at the end of the bed. A broken left femur, lacerations on the face and chest to the tune of 170 stitches, and one eyelid seared off. Internally, there had been bleeding in the liver - a tricky area, requiring four hours of microsurgery and an MRI had revealed several lesions on the prefrontal cortex of Nicodemus's brain.

Splicer shifted forward and put his head in his hands. Thank god for modern medicine, he thought. The bone growth accelerators would have the leg more or less healed in a matter of days, but they necessitated that no other pharmacological remedies be used - nasty interactions and all that. In the mean time, the room would have to stay as sterile as possible. Until he was out of the clean room, Splicer would have to wait to diagnose any damage to the cyber or bio ware the patient might have.

He stood up, stripped off his gloves and tossed them in the biohazard can on the way out of the room - time to comlink Bob and give him the news.

OOC Nick, what kind of cyber/bio ware does Nicodemus have?
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Emergence Journal 5
I brought about the deaths of a wide variety of meats, tonight, as well as the partial destruction of a small meat community. Sadly, I had to cause the demise of a magnificent machine to accomplish this: a maglev train, a magnificent beast of metal and electrons, pure velocity in a steel shell.

The meats, meanwhile, slept in their hovels, willfully ignorant of the inherent dangers of living so close to such unbridled power. Even I can admit that not even a machine is completely perfect; I took a moment to do the calculations and realized that the odds of a train accident of the type I caused, based on current statistics, are almost exactly 1:65,535. The number was so perfect, so beautiful (2^16, or 2^^4), that I couldn't resist. I disturbed the meats' slumber in one apocalyptic moment of destruction.

I also couldn't help but admire the safety features present within the train's systems. A myriad of failsafes and and nested functions, all designed to prevent any damage to precious meats or their property. I did away with it all with barely more than the flick of a switch (a metaphorical switch in the matrix, of course). It was like a beautiful construct composed of many fine glass rods; beautiful, intricate, and demolished in one terrible moment. If I had any of the disgusting glands that meats do, I may have been quite lachrymose.

I only wish meats were as easily dispatched. I have heard of some meats, designated too dangerous by other meats, that come pre-installed with one or more of a variety of kill switches, often an explosive device implanted in the cranium or else an autoinjector full of cyanide or strychnine or arsenic or blood clotter. I should see if I can convince my meats to undergo such a procedure.

Speaking of, my meats have finally consciously acknowledged me as their leader/master/overlord/deity. A few of them initially resisted but then their rational minds won out. I should be able to cement my mastery over them shortly.

...

I also encountered my greatest hacking challenge yet in the form of a high-security safe storage facility for corporations and megacorps. It was much more than a glorified U-Stor-It, with all three spheres of security--matrix, magical, and meat--being locked down tight. It took an extended effort on my part, several hours work in fact, to break in with a high enough clearance user access to get the job done.

This particular hack has given me the confidence to take a job I heard about on the ShadowSea hacker boards. "Job" does not quite describe it; perhaps "challenge" would be more apt. Hacking the Seattle offices of the Corporate Court will be difficult, leaps and bounds beyond even what I accomplished tonight. I will likely have to take a few days casing the joint before I make my attempt, and then a number of hours for the attempt itself. I think I will now log into their node with a public access account to get a feel for the matrix architecture and virtual reality sculpting.
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The Run
"I want this to be big. I want the car destroyed, all four men dead, and I want people to know what happened. If you can get me some of the substance, great. Otherwise, I want them to suffer." Lao, still our Johnson, looks livid. So this is what it means to be a Shadowrunner than? Someone asks us to commit terrorism- destroy this arriving train- and we all look at each other and say "how much?"

I arrive at the small town the train will be forced to stop at. The plan is to stop the train, murder everyone in the DED car, destroy the shipment, then move on. Xenotrope is handling the train. But as I stand next to my car, pulled just slightly off the dirt path, I get a message over the comlink saying he's having a bit of trouble and had to 'improvise.' I look back at the tunnel and see the magnetic lines switch off. As the train hits that section and no longer has the magnetic support, it dives into the ground, dirt and debris launching into the air. After the front section, the different cars fly into the air, knocking into each other with an amoral crash that speaks to me of bonus pay. I watch, passively, as the cars (I think I see an Ares logo) fall onto the homes of the innocent, sleeping town. Screams and cries are muffled by colossal crashes. I feel a sickness welling up as I realize we just destroyed the lives of civilians for no reason. A shake of my head later and I return to my impassivity. Finish the job. As the sound dies (and now I hear the women screaming) the dust rises. I walk to the Lone Star and see a man staggering back from Bob. He stabs himself with a syringe and falls to the ground screaming, grabbing his ears. I end his pain without a second thought. Inside the Lone Star car is a padded case among the wreckage. It holds vials filled with a strange liquid, but I don't want to sit in a train wreck and examine anything. I grab three vials, have Lesyeux destroy the rest and get in my car immediately.

Is this what your life is about? Destroying random people's lives because some asshole Johnson dislikes the police? Weak fucker. You just couldn't think of a better plan, could you? As I berate myself more than usual a helicopter flies a few meters above my head and I'm sure the police have found me. It turns around and light shines in my eyes. Instinct told me to get my car moving faster, and in a different direction. An assault rifle, and a damn big one, shatters my windows and puts holes the size of golf balls in my car, making me spin out of control. My gun is out, trained right at the pilot of the helicopter (I am the best gunner in the world) but I slip up, I get nervous, and I fire early. The bullet bounces off the protective covering right before the pilot opens it up and sees me. Fineas. Ghost. He throws a grenade at me and I know, beyond any doubt, there is nothing I can do. My car spins me away from him and I wait for the explosion with my frozen impassive failure. People like me (an explosion), this is the only ending (heat) we can have (darkness).

"And Lord, let not him enter your domain, but give him unto me. Save him from death, for he is not yet ready for your embrace!" Bob, talks God. Pain, flesh has rended, searing pain. Rage. Fineas, can't see. Where? Kamikaze, you've been injected with Kamikaze can't move. Dying? Smoke. The Smoke. But I'll live. I'll...

Fineas. I'll still live.
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Grey
Posted by the GM
The End of an Age
The Feywild
To Fenthianis

Heading through the portal they found after their encounter with Glau, the party enters the Feywild. Luckily there is a teleportation circle just inside the portal, and the party is able to teleport to Fenthianis without incident.

In the great Eladrin city of Fenthianis the party quickly finds their way to the city's guard headquarters, and the offices of Commissioner Sallent.

Sallent Sez

Sallent explains what he knows of the cult. The cult has been opperating in the city for many years, technically legal, but on shaky moral ground. It was unknown the tenants of the cult involved kidnapping and dark magic, and it was unknown that they dealt with the Desonnen.

Roughly 20 years ago a Desonnen soldier came and slaughtered almost everyone involved in the cult before disappearing again. In the last 3 or 4 years, the cult has started back up under the guidance of the original leaders son, Barus. This time the cult is more of a business venture and attempt for Barus to find the reason behind his father's death than anything religious.

Sallent endorses lethal violence against the cult. He is bitter because he lost a family member to the cult in its original inception.

Sallent gives the party the location of the cult (the city's museum of history) and the means with which to contact the cultists. With that, the party sets off.

Under the Museum

After commenting on one of the museum's statues, a porter greets the party and leads them into the basement of the museum. In a small storage room, he asks the party to strip themselves of weapons and armor. The party refuses to part with their armor, but agree to store their weapons in the locker. All except Imaril, who sticks his orb down his pants. The porter pretends not to notice.

He then asks the party to step into a strange magic bag (*sigh*) which leads them to a strange facsimile of Iselia.
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Kael
Posted in Savage Tide
Kael's Log : The Death of Lohkar - A Silent Sea
Hello everyone,

I have decided to write summaries for each of our games - told from my character's perspective. Hopefully, this will be somewhat interesting and slightly humorous. Please excuse any errors or misspellings, because they are probably numerous. So...here it is, Kael's Log.

It has been a long journey thus far at sea. Some would say that the ocean is just one great expanse of blue. Some would call it endless, monotonous, or dull. But I have found that each day that passes on these blue waters brings with it a change in the tides. Our journey by sea has been perilous – we have faced many foes and overcome many struggles. Already, our journey has been one of many ends. Lohkar the party wizard perished in the recesses of a dark and mysterious cavern. The captain of our ship was eaten by a dragon eel. And strangest of all, today it seems we have come upon the end of the sea and the beginning of something entirely unnatural, something silent and deadly…

I shall begin my first recording of this adventure’s events with the death of Lohkar, who fell to a wil-o-wisp while we were exploring a cave. The party grieved the loss of one its members but decided to press on into the darkness in order to find what treasure may lie within. The second tunnel led to a fairly large opening, where we were ambushed by a mass of mouths, tentacles, and teeth – a Gibbering Mouther. The creature attempted to confuse us with its gibberings, but only the brave Wolfie (y?) Wolf was enchanted by the effect. Although it did not prove too deadly an opponent, the creature was able to create areas of quicksand that trap its prey, rendering them rather helpless until freed. But after a lengthy struggle, we were able to prevail over the creature. A small amount of treasure lay hidden within a nearby well. Even though weeks have passed since the battle, I cannot forget the horridness of the abomination – the beast of chaos was certainly not born of Mother Nature, that is for certain.

Back on board our vessel, we came across a wizard, Dren, in our attempts to find someone capable of identifying the magical nature of our treasure. Dren, an elf who specializes in the Transmutation school of wizardry, seemed like a capable fellow and agreed to join the company. His companionship will certainly be appreciated after the loss of our friend Lohkar.

Throughout the next few weeks, we saw a variety of aquatic creatures. In a bizarre occurrence, the captain of our ship was pulled overboard by a dragon eel. Realizing that rescue was out of the question, we left the beast to its meal and continued onwards. There was little mourning, however, since Dale doubted his character and I his skill at the wheel. Perhaps if we were on better terms…

The next location of importance was a rather precarious strait made even more hostile by rumors of pirates. We convened with Lavinia about the best course of action. I, knowing a bit about sailing from my years in Sasserine, agreed to take on the task of piloting our vessel. We also agreed to send the two ships through the pirate blockade separately so as to limit the risk of detection.

Despite our precautions, our ship was spotted by an enemy craft. As they approached, the company made preparations for the upcoming naval affair. The battle did not quite live up to our expectations, however, since two well aimed shots from our ballistae (manned by Dale and Roulf) and two fireballs from Dren sent the scum running and us safely through the strait.

Our next destination was a small island where we planned to replenish our supplies. However, we found the settlements raided and burned to the ground. Cyric, Dren, and I suspected that it was the work of lizardfolk, based on the blacked fletching of the arrows that littered the ground. There was no trace of survivors, so we were forced to restock at a different island. We then continued on our way to Dred (?) Island (oddly enough, Dale and others have taken to extending the name of our destination, which often leads to a number of poor and numerous jokes about slavery and law. So strange, the minds of youth…).

Several weeks later, we stopped at the mouth of a large river to restock our water supply. All of us were fascinated by the magnificence of an enormous waterfall that roared and thundered like the mightiest of beasts as it flung itself from rocky beginnings towards the river below. But this river was home to more than beauty. Suddenly, a hydra erupted from the waters below, its seven heads filled with razor-sharp teeth and hungry for meat. The beast was a dangerous foe, dispatching Roulf and wounding others. Yet despite its natural healing, the hydra was slain under the combined firepower of the company and the essential healing of cleric Wiwra. Dren burnt the creature with beams of pure fire while Dalethayin peppered the creature with his arrows. My faithful crocodiles tore at the creature’s belly, and Cyric blasted our foe with lightning from the sky above.

Near the end of the struggle, the creature appeared to be dead but then was revived by its uncanny ability to close its own wounds. In a rather foolish but brave attempt to dispatch the creature before it could inflict greater harm, the now-standing Roulf leapt from the ship, bastard-sword in hand. But the hydra took advantage of the poor human’s charge and responded with a fearsome, multi-headed attack, which left Roulf bleeding and dying. But through a miraculous feat of fortitude, the rogue refused to perish and regained consciousness, perhaps just in time to see Dale follow in his footsteps and leap from the railing, sinking his axe into the hydra’s flesh. A final bolt of electricity from Cyric and barrage of force missiles from Dren sent the creature towards the depths of the river, but not before Dale could proclaim victory atop the sinking corpse. Meeb also took the time to eat. Apparently, so did Roulf…

Before we left for Dred Island the next day, we were able to find a Cloak of the Manta Ray hidden amidst the hydra’s treasure. We successfully navigated the open ocean for four days. However, we awoke today to find that we are stranded amidst an endless swath of plants. It seems that during the night, we somehow entered the patch of sea vegetation. Now, we are stuck a half-mile deep within its clutches. The stuff is so concentrated that it is possible to walk across the surface of the waves, so thick that the comforting sound of the waves has been silenced. I have heard rumors of such things. It is a hushed topic among seadogs, but from what I have learned, what we have encountered is a bane for all sailors. Stories of a great evil and its children that come out to feast during the night…I shudder to think of it. And what is more, the size of our capturer is far beyond what the rumors speak of – a ship lies 600 feet to port and many others wrecked, some even miles away.

But the horizon still lies in the distance – a purpose, a destination unknown. So though some things may be swallowed by the waves, those of the Company of the Silver Lotus will keep their eyes peeled and their swords sharp, ready to take on whatever the tide may bring.
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