Changing Gears

Originally this blog was for a potential Shadowrun game, to things between playing the actual game online. Unfortunatly the "GM" person flaked a bit. I don't blame him it happens to all of us GM sorts from time to time.

So rather than let this goto waste I think I'll take a new direction let the blog do some heavy lifting.

We'll see where it goes. I'm not sure just yet. But I'll think on it at length and come back.

Its a long slow walk

To the end of the street, what with the drones buzzing overhead, and the acid rain drizzling. I stopped in a corner automat to have a peice of pie while hoping I didn't lose my trench to the sizzling stinking piss that came down out of the sky.

It wasn't packed like I expected it to be. Just a few people. Two locked in some sort of self indulgant wireled but not brain frying in the corner. Not sure if they were together, or just coincindently sad down near one another.

Couple gang-bleed colors came in, same tats on their faces glowing in the dim light, they looked at my own glowing face for a second. Sorry chummer. Not from this tired old berg.

Stalking the Shadows

Morning Muck

Awoke to the ornery attentions of the Ork manager to the coffin crashpad I'd been forced to take in the city. Shame I can't just camp out somewhere, but the stinging of the rain on my skin is too much.

Long term and nasty if I stay out in it. It's a fucking shame people can't respect the wind and rain when it was purer. Now they whine, bitch and wail, but its their own damn fault.

Headed out to slot my cred and saw a girl, twitchy fingers down the hall, thought she might be casting magics but was wired into something. She told me it was a game when she dropped back into this reality. Isn't the world around us interesting enough? Spirits, and whispers on the edge of night, things once though myth walking the world. Fuck's sake man we had a dragon run for president when I was younger!

She though I was dead of cred, so sent me off to someone called "New Nuyen" Eddie.

Whatever the hell he has better be worth my time. I really don't want to drop a shaft in someones too expensive to be natural eyesocket.

New to the City

I can't say I'm impressed.
Sea-Tac, isn't much to look at.

Miles and miles of steel, cement, and annoying buzz I can't shake from all the electricity dancing in the air, all the black static dancing from brain to brain like a smoke thick and hot curling out reaching but not truly telling its story.

Someone is watching me. Always can feel it itching along my spine. I shake my hair and scan the miles of glass before me trying to catch a glimpse of who it is. They could be behind me, or could be miles away staring at the static casters.

I'm no fool so I stalk a bit up the cold stone ground. Harsh, chill, and raining.

Couple of girls, or wannabe girls look back. Sorry, I ain't hunting a pride I think to myself.

My long ears twitch. Glad I'm a meta. Got a few real perks but they pay off in spades. I slide my hand down to the real wood grip of my crossbow.

I feel them again. I pull it from its leg holster, and the arms spring into place as heavy springs push them into a locked position. The clip slides a bolt up just in line with the taught string.

I spin and fire.


The oiled mechanism slide smooth there is only a barely audible thwap as the string flings the bolt forth at hi speed. It catches the hovering robot in the false eye that was staring at me, and sparks dance as it drops.


Just a newb in the city.


But this newb is a predator on his own.


Eryk, Shaman of the Lion, tribeless.