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Go forth and conquer in my name.
"Again the Lord said to me,'A conspiracy exists among the men of Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They have turned back to the iniquities of their forefathers, who refused to hear my words. They have gone after other gods to serve them. The house of Israel and the house of Judah have broken my covenant that I made with their fathers. Therefore, thus says the Lord, Behold, I am bringing disaster upon them that they cannot escape. Though they cry to me, I will not listen to them."

* * *

"Will the guests be involved with the Ghost Cartels?" Bob was curious to see how this web of intrigue was constructed.
"Some," responded Lao, "Many more will be high level corporate execs that don't have any connection."
LOVERS OF SELF AND MONEY. VAIN, DECEITFUL, ARROGANT. CUT THEM DOWN LIKE THE JULY WHEAT.

* * *

"Are you sure I can make it?"
I'LL CARRY YOU.
Bob secured his axe across his back with its nylon strap and took a running leap into the elevator shaft. He found footing and began to shimmy between two concrete supports until he was on top of the the elevator at the twelfth floor.
KILL THEM
Bob kicked in an emergency hatch, readied his axe, and dropped through the opening. Raising his axe, he prepared to decapitate the figure in front of him, which, Bob realized in time, was his troll teammate. Before he could explain himself he put the axe into a combat drone whose gun was trained on the now occupied center of the elevator. The drone promptly collapsed before the blow.
"You know, these games teach you to be racist."
"What in the hell are you talking about, Newhart!?" screamed Nicodemus. Bob was already moving past the drone to a door in front of him.
"As a matter of fact, yes, trolls are dumber than human beings." Newhart was still on the subject as he was entering the next room. "It's scientifically proven."
"I'll fucking kill you, pig!" shouted Mucha. He had a good mind to open Bob's skull with an icepick when this was done.
"What," said Newhart, raising his axe,"no, no. I didn't mean that in the game. I wanted to be your friend-" The axe landed squarely on the shoulder of a well dressed man with a clean cut appearance. Blood sprayed on the walls. The gun the man held dropped to the floor. "-with all the art and stuff."

* * *

Bob's commlink buzzed.
"Alright, let's get Iris and get the hell out of here."
HAVE YOU READ TIMOTHY'S SECOND EPISTLE!? NO SOLDIER ENTANGLES HIMSELF IN CIVILIAN PURSUITS SINCE HE WISHES TO PLEASE HE WHO ENLISTED HIM.
"Iris needs medical attention," his commlink buzzed again.
KILL THEM. KILL THEM ALL.
In the darkness, Bob saw the signature of scared souls in the corner of the room. The figures were positively mute so as to avoid detection, but the axe found them. Shrieks rang out as if the penthouse were an abattoir and subsided just as suddenly. Only dull thuds. Then a victory cry.
"I PROCLAIM THE LINE OF JUDAH!" At least 75dB, perhaps more.
Excellent.

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OOC- Downtime and explanations
What the hell is the matter with Bob?:

For those who cared to ask, Bob saw God when he blacked out after the injection. God told Bob not to sweat the maglev train thing, and that he'll let Bob know what to do in future events. Bob is God's prophet on earth.



Hopefully, nobody minded last night's carnage too much. If you did, I, as a player, extend a sincere apology. Should Newhart be killed by a teammate, hopefully we'll all be friends in the end. ;-)

As for downtime, I'm going to need a fake SIN. I'll be calling up The Swede for that. If anyone else would like one, put in an order. It's on me.

Also, I think this would be a good time to get the van armored.
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XP and Character Updates
Hi Folks,

I added XP for your last battle with the trolls and worgs. If you haven't already, please send me an email or private message with your XP Award nominations.

Also, please update your characters on Epic Words. For example, all of you are at least level 7. I have no ability to edit your characters.

Thanks,
Dan
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Splicer J
"Nico, I got that cyber-eye you were looking for. Same model, same upgrades. I can put it in as soon as you need it, it's an outpatient procedure."

Splicer stuffed his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray next to him, and contemplated this "legitimate doctor" thing.

OOC
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William Lao
Iris will not look me in the eye.

Oh, to be sure she looks through me. Her eyes point at me, but they do not focus. They do not resolve my image. She has not gone catatonic; she will respond to questions, when it suits her.

It appears that she believes I am simply beneath her.

I know her secrets. I know she facilitates drug smuggling. I know she provides the muscle for important courier runs. I even know that she compromised her officers, through extortion, threats, and gifts to follow her lead.

Soon, I will have proof. I will be able to leave this safe-house and turn her over to those who can best decide her future. She will not suffer the same fate as Arthur; he was a non-entity in this. His pain was incidental.

Iris, now. A pillar of the community, a trusted friend of mine for decades. A public unmasking of her evils would break her. A trial.

I will fulfill my oath to the law. But first, I must ask questions.

"Iris. What were you smuggling on that train?"
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