#shadowrun stories

[storyisdead]

How to Train Your Basilisk (pt 1)

This session had far too many crazy things happening in it for one post, so this one will be episodic. 

Game: Shadowrun 5E (Cyberpunk + Fantasy)

Scenario: Interlude between 5 and 6

So, it started with one roll.

"I want to train my basilisk." The basilisk had been a spoil of war. A fresh little hatching stolen last time the team was on a 'Run. It's not an unreasonable idea. Basilisk are Awakened lizards, intelligent enough to become guard animals (even if their base instincts are to eat anything smaller than they are). The situation was relaxed enough. We were between missions, just figuring out how characters were spending their experience and money. Perfect time to train your dragon—or, lizard. We discussed the difficulty of the task, and what of Mugsy's skills would apply, if any. After some brief calculations, we came to an Extended Test, which means he can roll multiple times, once for each day spent training this death lizard.

But we only did once.

He rolled his two dice. Mugsy is a dwarf automechanic with a bad attitude, a machine gun, and no skill in animal handling, But, he was using Youtube tutorials to get a boost. The dice came up snake eyes. A pair of ones. That's two misses, and no hits. Critical Glitch.

A Glitch is what happens when your character messed up. A Critical Glitch means the gods, the universe, or sheer random chance has gone out of its way to make your bumbling mistake tonight's entertainment.

Now, you might think the result of this would be obvious. The basilisk attacks him. But, my friends, your critical glitches do not get to be so mundane when you're currently working in secret for a chaos god. Oh no. Mugsy flips on a youtube tutorial, turns to his Augmented Reality monitor, turns around to get his pet, and there is a vacancy in the shape of a basilisk, and an air vent swinging on it's hinges.

Mugsy calls the team. "Guys. I think you need to come over." He doesn't inform them until they arrive that there is a baby killer lizard loose in the air vents of their apartment complex. The least dangerous aspect of this situation is blowing their cover as a secret shadowrun hide out.7/2018

Two other players can make it to this impromptu session. Georg (pronounced George), an accountant for a minor dragon, and the world's most boring man. At least, boring until you make him mad. He carries about 3 gigatons of fire on his person as alchemic items. The other character is … a bit of an oddball. He could be a post in and of himself. For now, just think of Hopps as a werebunny pro wrestler with lightning magic. That's about the shortest description I can give him.

A brief roll of dice decides the weather for this random session. Critical Glitch. It's raining like a monsoon.

The crew managed to arrive, and after Georg judges Mugsy harshly for losing a valuable asset, they go about attempting to get the basilisk back.

First leaping into action is Hopps. He sprung to his feet, ran to the airvent, and shouted hysterically for the lizard to come back. Mugsy, maybe just trying to get him to be quiet, tells Hopps to patrol outside. His precious pet lizard in danger, Hopps wasted no time. He dove for the window in his signature wrestling move: attacking butt first with lagomorphic speed.

Or, tried to.

While not a glitch, he didn't roll well, and his butt bounced off the glass and sent him sprawling to the floor. Only, for the glass to then crack, break, and let a monsoon amount of rain pour into the apartment.

Success (for Hopps)! He dove out the broken window and began his patrol, still shouting hysterically for his pet lizard.

With Hopps out of the room, they arrived at the first legitimate idea: lure the basilisk out. They went across the street for a bucket of KFC and placed it next to the air vent. After waiting awhile and causing the west wing to smell like fried chicken, they gave up. Lizard ain't biting.

Georg and Mugsy recalled Hopps, and they stepped into the halls to try to hunt this lizard down. The first bit of bad news awaited them. Someone hired an exterminator to get rid of the banging in the vents. Which is a problem, because now something actually is banging around in the vents.

Mugsy tried to distract this honest-troll of an exterminator with conversation, while George and Hopps race against time to find the lizard before the exterminator does. Hopps, suddenly remembering that basilisks have a petrifying gaze, upturned the KFC bucket over his head, wandered blindly up and down the hallways, and shouted, "Chicken Wing! Chicken Wing!" Which, while being the basilisk's name, also gave strangers no confidence in Hopp's sanity.

At this point, Mugsy has glitched.

On assessing the motives of this good ol' country troll, he comes to the conclusion that the exterminator  is actually a double agent sent from the big corporations to spy on them and plant bugs. New goal: lead the exterminator down an alley, hit him over the head, and dispose of the body.

And there is still a magical murderous lizard loose in the airvents.

[thistlewhistler]

My Shadowrun Character process

My first venture into Shadowrun, really any tabletop game, was with 4th edition. The GM told everyone to use the basic method for character generation that the book outlined early on. This was a build-point system, or BP for short. Once you came up with an idea, the order was to decide on a Metatype, buy attributes, augment the character with qualities, pick up skills, then purchase gear, literal augmentations (Cyberware, Replacement limbs, etc.), contacts, and finally any finishing touches to flesh them out. Each character had 400 BP to spend. So in short: Metatype, attributes, qualities, skills, gear, contacts. Writing it out like that, it doesn’t sound difficult.

I was only told much later that the character generation process in 4th edition was very bloated and complicated. The sheer number of splat books and qualities or skill groups or gear in each of them was staggering to understand. Even using only the 20th anniversary corebook for the first character gave us a lot of freedom. Maybe too much. I wrote out my first character poorly. My process was to read through the corebook and make a list of all the things I wanted my character to have. When I finished I went back through the list and grouped things that I would be able to afford, balancing the most benefit from a single attribute with the least cost to me. I learned later this was something called min-maxing and generally frowned upon. Of course, making a murder-hobo was also frowned upon, and I ended up with one of those too. See, once I reasoned to myself that my character could live with poor lifestyle (the second-lowest and therefore second-cheapest choice), I shaped him around what life choices and skills would be most beneficial. A lovely little detail in the magic section was a very inexpensive skill called Sustenance. At only .025 Power Points, a character would only need one meal, three hours of sleep, and a single bathroom break per day. How wonderful!

So my first character was an adept. It was a very definite sign of the characters to come. I loved how normal human limits that in life I accepted were just the mortal restraints were suddenly quite within reach for an adept. They weren’t flinging spells or freezing foes or flying through the sky; an adept’s magic was focused inward. Every new concept I came up with either incorporated or revolved around an adept power. Over time I’ve expanded my character repertoire to include character that weren’t awakened or with Cyberware, even an AI, but adepts are still my absolute favorite to make and play.             Currently, my character process is slightly different from when I began. I have a template for character creation made that I can open and begin from scratch with a skeleton setup for adding qualities and whatnot while adding up BP per category. Before even writing something down, I have an impression of what qualities the character will have. Perhaps It is because I’ve read the books front-to-back too many times. With that being said, I still have several books open at once throughout the process. When I open my template, I add in what I know the character has to have first.

Only after I’ve chosen what a character has to have to define them will I move on, first to write out notes (that I put at the very end of the page) on how that character behaves, and what mannerisms they have around friends, enemies, animals, family, and their gear. Then I start at the beginning of the template, deciding the Metatype and qualities. I keep a tab of how many BP I’ve spent in each category, to give me an idea of how much I’ve spent (and how much is left). After qualities I allocate attributes. The BP max for attributes is 200, and I feel like that’s well balanced, as I typically reach exactly that building a character. After that is Edge (luck) and level of magic. Next on the list are skills, including specializations. Only natural after skills are knowledge skills, which are free up to 3x Logic+Intuition attributes. The knowledge skills are almost always flavor for the character, personally. Gear comes next, and honestly I don’t spend much in the category. If the character’s going to be awakened, the next area is magic, either adept powers or mage spells. The last step is purchasing contacts, the friends a character has that can help out in legwork or just maybe reinforcements. Last doesn’t mean finally however; Once I’ve gone from the top of the template to the bottom, I do another tally of BP spent and how much I have left. Somehow I don’t normally go over 400 BP when building a character. At this point I can start buffing skill ranks, redistributing attribute levels, count skill dicepools, and run minor scenarios in my head to see how’d they react.

[thistlewhistler]

Shadowrun Characters

So: a bit of background. I love Shadowrun. But my story, like any, deserves a beginning.

I had heard of RPGs and D&D events and campaign things before, but only had my first experience with one when I started college. My freshman year I was going into a new experience where all of us were door-to-door neighbors in a dorm. Making friends was not my specialty, so I didn’t go out of my way to leave the sanctity of my room, except during classes and to forage for food.

Some people that lived in the hall with me shared that they were going to start a campaign in the futuristic cyberpunk, neo-noir, mystical RPG called Shadowrun. Not to let a topic with that many buzz-words I am interested pass me by, I cautiously shared that I would be interested in at least learning more about the world and its rules. After all, I still didn’t know many people, none of them very well, and I didn’t know if I wanted to gamble a large chunk of time in my weekly schedule towards being around people I might not like, or playing something I wouldn’t become invested in.

What a fool I was.

I was given a couple PDFs to look at, one of them notably a copy the DM’s purchase of the 20th Anniversary Shadowrun Corebook. The others were two or three splat books on magic, weaponry, and cyber stuff. I cracked open the Corebook and took a peek, skimming the pages first to get the concepts and intending to go back to a few sections later for a second glance.

I didn’t sleep that night.

Now keep in mind, I love sleep. Sleep is delicious. I know now (and found out repeatedly while at college) that many people skip sleep in favor for other activities, but I am very dedicated to getting 8 hours each day, no matter the occasion or events that demand attention. So staying up, cutting into my sleep schedule, prying myself from the recesses of unconscious slumber and recharge is an impressive feat for me.

The next day I single out the DM at breakfast. He was sitting with a few people from the hall who, unbeknownst to me, would later become my first party.

I sat down, placing my tray firmly on the table with both hands, and when they looked up, said “I’m in.”

(Okay I definitely didn’t do it like that, but how cool would it have been? I should have done that. Again, not great with the whole friends aspect or really the self-confidence factor.)

I told him I would be interested in joining. He asked what I had read so far, and was pleasantly impressed that I had read the corebook in detail, but not entirely surprised. I learned that he had played a good number of games but it would be his first time running a campaign, that in this RPG he would be called the “GM” instead of “DM” (GameMaster DungeonMaster), that I should meet with him and others later that weekend for general rules, and that I should think of a general character concept, but don’t worry about fleshing out details initially.

Meanwhile he learned I was a voracious reader, was fascinated with the Awakened World in Shadowrun, had already come up with a couple character ideas, spoke rapidly and a little too loud about subjects I was interested in, got along very well with the people at the table, had never played an RPG before, hadn’t left the dorms much at all, and had limited knowledge of popular culture in both current events and the 90′s.

Our first meeting was at someone’s apartment up the hill from the dorm. We talked about how it would be pretty casual, that we would be expected to bring ourselves and our character sheets and that would be basically it, that sessions would last about five hours or longer, and agreed on ground rules. Well, ground rule.

“Don’t be a ‘d’.”

“What does that mean? A lot of things start with d. Does that mean I shouldn’t be a dwarf?”

But everyone knew what the rule meant. It meant don’t be a dick. It was a flexible, fluid rule that didn’t bar certain behavior yet could be brought up if behavior got out of hand. It meant meta-gaming wasn’t overly discouraged but that you shouldn’t rules-lawyer. The rule also went both ways, and we were encouraged to see it like that. Not only for the players, but to remind the GM if he was being too hard or if something he said wasn’t right to bring to the table. “Don’t be a ‘d’“ meant don’t take the fun out of the game. We were going to have a good time in this campaign, and everyone wanted everyone else to feel comfortable with it.

Anyone that’s read this far, thanks. I am immensely grateful for how this first campaign was ran, and the friends I made from it. I love everything about Shadowrun, and it was undoubtedly because of the atmosphere and comfort  I received acting through character reactions, laughing together, sharing snacks and plot hooks around a long table and whiteboard.

Fast forward.

Today I use Tumblr to scroll through the internet, dipping my hand into fresh or familiar waters with genuine interest in what I might see in the river’s flow. I follow my share of users and their content. For Shadowrun content, I reminisce over memories and characters alike that my friends and I have made. Today I saw a map of Seattle that @shadowrungames posted. I was brought back to the first time I saw that map, saw the names and where characters would call their homes, their familiar turf or stomping ground. Where adventures would take place and once, where war would be declared and fought one street at a time. I remembered the campaigns I was fortunate enough to play. And despite my nostalgia, or more likely because of it, I remembered too how much I wanted more after every end came about, in one way or another. I wanted to share what I had made, to dive deep and immerse myself in the 6th world, to see others experience what I had.

With that out of the way, I’m hoping to do something I’ve been wanting to for a while. I’ve made a large number of characters over the years (all in a horrible word document format instead of proper character sheets like normal people) and want to upload them so anyone that shares an interest in Shadowrun, be it a passing fancy or devoted dedication or longing memory, might find what they’re looking for in their pages.

Iiiiif you like them enough to use them in something, great! If you’d let me know I would be tickled to hear about it. If you want fodder for mooks or overpowered huge bosses, or even an example of what NOT to do for your players, I’d be happy just knowing they’re out ‘running.

Remember Chummers: Watch your back. Shoot straight. Conserve ammo. And never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon.