After giving our attacking ships the slip (with liberal use of the new foam torpedos to disable their thrusters), we proceed towards the previous coordinates we’d found from the Crocodile, intent on figuring out what caused its fate. With most of the crew in medbay, it was a quiet overnight flight further into the darker parts of the belt, with Froon left alone to play with the new torpedo fabrication systems, restocking our foam payloads.
Returning from the Lizardfolk Temple, having slain the Balrog polluting the waters, Flint negociates with the just-starting-to-recover Beaver Army, who agree that fighting with the water supply should be considered a war crime, and that moving forward our two factions will trade supplies for Agates, rather than blackmail. Once back in town, the returning water level encourages the city to celebrate with festivals that waste more of the now-plentiful water than should be believable.
The morning starts off with a river of mud, flowing through the town. Everyone begins to blame the beavers and wants to fight or destroy the beavers. A few of the towns adventures and founding members step up to investigate the problem.
Upon returning from the Water expedition, Caster puts up a note on the notice board requesting Agates, and then disappears into the College tower. Flint, wandering around the markets, encounters ole buddy Ken! along with Motzu (under recommendation from Reed) and Drake, eager to help.
Over the next three weeks, we take time to recover, Nightshade works on physio, while Styx does some necro-networking; Chester expands his exotic drug inventory; Bob Ross brings his drones back into working order; Bori purchases some nice household upgrades for his lady; and Hawkeye tinkers with some new transit for us, with a medical bay in it.
Headmaster Flint Stone gathers a band of adventurers with nothing better to be doing around town: Ragu the lunch vendor, Warrior Geoff, and Post Macrowne (the half-elf formerly known as Crickets), to contend with a rising issue: the lowering water level of the river, which has been problematic for the merchant boat that regularly visits, and is worrying the farmers.
The squad lands their spacecraft on the outskirts of Berlin, in a farming community, hiding the ship in a barn. We’re split on keeping it as a backup escape ship (albeit it does need repairs), or stripping it for parts to sell; its a bit too obvious to fly around outside of emergencies. After two weeks, the City Master somehow arrived, heavily modded. Bob had just disappeared for a week, and came back with it, offering no explanation as to how it managed to move continents, having seemingly erased his own memory of the undertaking. Even with it, its been a bit awkward living as shadowrunners so rurally (other than for Chester, who has been loving the pastoral climate).
Journeying to the Entry Hall of the Amber Temple, we find another tall statue similar to the outside ones, hooded with a void where its face ought be. Orrrs begins to latch an arrow for it when we all hear a booming voice in our heads:
The hacker Whitenoise contacts us, having looked into corp suicide squads like ours. A decade ago there were many rumours of corps doing these, but they were concluded to be unsubstantiated and they fizzled out, until rather recently it came up again in the dark webs. One common pattern is that eventually, the team always seems to get removed somehow, either as a cleanup or screwup. He wants to help us get out, so offers to examine one of the implants, and Styx happily volunteers.
Our chilly troupe continues our descent along the mountains of madness’s steep cliffs, finally arriving at Rhymespire Canyon - with impressive vertical cliff walls and a precarious spire of ice. Our route required crossing an ancient rock bridge, covered in as much snow as it could hold.
Nebual: I am a pizza
Nebual: cook me at 230f
With the lone guard dispatched, Whitenoise takes off towards the mall, and we’ve no alternative ourselves. The mall is large, empty, and only partially furnished, providing a lot of environmental distractions. As planned, our comms are restricted while inside, as will the guards be.
Exploring the freezing mountains is enough to cause anyone madness. We thought we found a stone obelisk, bearing a sigil reminiscent of the Order of the Silver Dragon from the Knight’s Lodge. Its inscription bears:
We march through the night, making as much distance as we physically can while sticking to the tree cover. In the morning, Fen attempted to use Sending to contact the Guards holding our cart of supplies and let them know of a rendevous, but Strahd (he is the land, he is the air) intercepted it, helpfully saying he’ll let them know when he meets them. Bran had a dream that Strahd invaded, where he offered Bran power, but he would not speak further of it.
The stage is set:
Prince Renear explained his father was kicked out of office, having embezzeled a huge fortune, and then proceeded to hide his stash and wipe his own memory to prevent it falling into… the right hands? The Stone of Golarrrrr is believed to hold the key to his memories and thus oodles of gold dragons.
Sitting around the vertically-challenged-folks table at the Yawning Portal bar & grill, a motley assortment of halflings and dwarves discuss the city’s warnings of a potential upcoming quarantine. Several unsavoury types enter, and are teaming up against a half-orc they have some quarrel with. We begin assisting to improve her odds back to a fair fight, when a large troll covered in nether-bats emerges from the gaping central portal, looking mighty upset.
Having deftly handled our first assignment, we were rewarded for our troubles by being sent out of town, to be forgotten about. Our task: travel to Phandalin and check in on a franchise that hasn’t reported in awhile. Phandalin’s supposedly a town to the north, but none of us have been there, so it probably isn’t real. We provision ourselves accordingly for a 2 way waste of time journey, and head out into the social isolation present outside Waterdeep.
The crew awakens in the Tiefling’s bar; Port-Town, Chult; rather bewildered and confused about how they got there. Ken acquired full-body infernal tattoos, with implications about a contract. A battered newspaper, and a letter with very curved handwriting helped a little:
The Capital City Watch has now started to release information on Pier 57, the former site of a 20,000 ft2 shipping warehouse owned by the Mueller Trading Co. With the blaze finally subsiding after a gruelling 4 day collaborative effort between the University and the Civic Dryads Association, damage was narrowly restrained to the blocks affected by the initial energy wave.
Awaking from our brief reprieve, our party had shrunken - however, like in a dream, our script stated we were not to worry for their fate, and trudged onward without further concern.
Our most valient and just party was approaching the warehouse district, when we were waylaid by a lone bandit wearing skeleton-face. Most of us were unphased by this portrayal, with the exception of our Tabaxi friend, Smoking Mirror, who in fear immediately ran up the alley walls like a cat up a tree.
The first step to making pizza is engaging in the brutal form of combat called “Kneading Dough”. Many an aspiring gastronomer has been felled wrassling this savage beast.
Our good old friend, Abraxis, came a knocking one day, and Crickets was all too obliged to help him out, what with his soul being on the line and such. The devil told us to go to the bank, early in the morning, with gear.
goku.horseApparently cool kids are writing blogs in Markdown these days.
Forced to seek other options, our team opted to further explore the remaining doors of the staff floor.
Caught between the warehouse guards and Dock Security, Rambo lobs a flashbang backwards as the crew of 4 runs for cover.
After fleeing the helicopter scene, Bob was able to resume driving Sam’s van, picking up the crew along with the semi-conscious mage Twitch.
Hacking is primarily done via normal success tests, or occasionally opposed tests, similar to other gameplay like dialogue or perception checks.
There was a job, given from a Mr. Johnson whose primary contact was at the Lampshade Shop near the Burnside Industrial Zone: secure Fiona from the residence she was being held at, in Tacoma.