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© Andrè M. Pietroschek, my rights reserved 1st typo-hunt done
Welcome to this file. The author attempts here, to write a short-story based in what I knew as the 6th world. The world of Shadowrun. Intent is, to write someone who survived from around 2053 to 2070 and henceforth may be a bit antiquated, outdated or nostalgic on occasion. I checked with “Street Magic” before starting. I visited www.shadowrun4.com and asked for submission guidelines.
I published against www.scribd.com
Please expect this file to be ADULTS ONLY or for mature readers. I include pro-drugs, pro-nude and pro-violence as far as I consider it suiting, which, for Shadowrun, it often is. The map of the 6th world, the world of Shadowrun, I had as .jpg looked so measly after transformation into this PDF, that I deleted it from this file. For the crude basics, any map of Europe shows you where Germany, Denmark and Norway are to be found. A Shadowrun map was free on the Internet, too. This file is under construction, awaiting first impressions kind of feedback and such...
Terminology used in this file
AGS: Officially that is the Allied German States. Assholy German Suckers works just as easily. Brethren or Brother/Sister: Our chummers, buddies, equals. All, who didn't waste their welcome. Corpse: Any over-privileged fop working for a corporation not loyal to the people. Crusader: Faithful monotheistic combat mage or samurai, not necessarily cliché religious. Darkling: Dedicated to the dark side by conviction, necessity, Norse-oath or Celtic geas. GCP: The awakened German-Celtic-Pagan Movement. Those who defy the heritage of Roman Empire and always did. Numerous European cult. GCP-Alliance in social or political context. Knight Erratic: Any German police or security. Paper-Mage: Skilled at acquiring or forging official licenses, permissions and credentials. Sucker, singular. Plural is Suckers: What the other side calls chummers. Those who help Shadowrunners sabotaging our tranquil community. Cops, too, on occasion. Teuton: Tainted German, usually member of the revived Nazi German movement, racist evil. Occasionally called IZAN, which is Nazi spelled backwards, to bypass simple filters. Policlub brutes and snipers. Trinity Mystic: Somebody initiated, practised and learned in European mix-magic, usually it means the trinity of Shamanism, Hermetic Magic and refined Druidism. Rarely: Christian, Chaos & Islam trinity. Witch-Hunter: Outdated term by now, mostly used for mystic-adepts who kill corporate mages eagerly. Table, right of here displays ranks of competence I use. Expect 2 to 4 as my intent. No superheroes.
The muse and the wraith – the passion and the faith
I am preparing for my death. That is, what a lot about these diary notes will always come down to. The summary, the core-fact. There are moments, where my life is still fun. Occasionally even moments of tranquillity. Or undisturbed meditations. Germany fights a Shadow-War, in more than one definition of such terms. I doubt the rest of Europe doesn't. Back in 2053 I was still a youngster, playing in the Shadows, not running at all. Actually I never did a Shadowrun. Wrong side of the frontier. I belonged to the nobility of the outcasts, noble-pariahs as I enjoy the mockery of such twisted terminology. I gave my spiritual guidance to three provinces of our AGS for some years. Years before my fall, mostly. I witnessed the German ambivalence of increasing corporate defined professionalism at the same rate, as pseudo-barbarian revival of pagan, German-tribal and Celtic mysticism or spirituality. I did spend years in a Germany, which had people from all the world as guests or converts. I remember a Germany which got mostly rid of racism, opened to multi-cultural learning. Of course I never gave a damn. I had not much latent racism, so multi-cultural was mostly watching sexy women of different breed to me personally. Seven years of my adulthood I was strictly monastic, ascetic without cheating. Nice that this is over. I missed nearly as much pleasure, as I avoided pain and suffering in this life. Maybe sometimes even I made something the proper way. Sad that it does me no good. But hey, who surrenders to self-pity? Not me, not now, not again. Not yet! After all, progress as such was not the mistake. The mistake in our equation as people was, that we allowed too many tainted fuck-ups to seize business. We paid the price of dire pollution along for that progress. A price we can harshly live with. The competent application of science was welcome, even now it is an ally in the crusade against pollution and all it spawned forth. Around half the AGS is still a purgatory, not much matter, if looking with mundane senses upon the facts we all perceive, or looking with astral senses upon the spiritual plane. We spawned our own nemesis, yet this is not a dark side of truth for us exclusively. The greater powers suffered consequence of their greed even more. Many years ago I had been sucked down. Devoured by a spirit of Udgard, what one could call a baleful spirit or demon. Showing me my limitations of being mortal. Or my limitations of magical theory and my own sorcery's degree of competence. Asgard, Midgard and Udgard, roughly simplified as Heaven, Earth and Hell.
Back then I did survive, more emotionally crushed, than actually shaken or scarred. Some shamans said without the experience I would have nothing but a theory founded in hubris to handle such. It happens easily. The slightest breach in defence and baleful powers strike true. Tough lessons for a youngster, unpleasant memories which pale in comparison to the greater darkness and all it shelters. I became a trinity mystic, touched or tainted by the dark dream. When I stopped being afraid, then falling or dissolving into spiritual darkness was by far not always negative. On the contrary. Some of my greatest powers were learned during such endeavours. Darkness has it's price. Just that most are really stupid enough to believe, that the same isn't true on what they call light. What mortals perceive as a price is often just consequence. Funny, that the pure consequence of our own whims and decisions may already spoil our existence with ease? I am a bit distracted. My joy-pod game takes my attention. I am playing an assassin on a mission, all to be my decision. Not one of those games where cheat-codes even exist. I once loved the medieval simplicity of life. Wrong! I loved what us modern people daydream this medieval simplicity to be like. Great sims and stims on that topic, too. Can you imagine, that it takes quite some energy, to do a long-range mind-control which makes one of the console-wizards hack those scripts of improvement into games? Grey eminence magic has its benefits, but rarely gets appreciated, or paid. Instead of running shadows I am sometimes paid to energize. It roughly translates into offering my magical energy as fuel for somebody else's magic. Easy money, but not for those who have a conscience. It is much preferable to organ-trade or street-crime though. I am the distanced type. Rarely do I enjoy tight-ashed teams. Emotional stranglehold was my perception of it. Allows nice parasitic drain features though. I prefer the Net and Matrix to Senseless consume. Allows me a minor does of activity even in spare-time. And sometimes I even keep worthwhile contacts for a year or two. In the forest of Hessen there is the treacherous GCP whack reigning his domain. Oh yeah, I bet tourists love to see outdated splatter and slasher coming to life against their flesh. As a distant contact he is quite an enrichment, but a mutual eagerness to start fighting each other we have to handle, time and time again. Sometimes its fun, cerebral club-bashing instead of constructive magic. Trust is not precisely a virtue on the darker paths. Yet maybe that is just my personal insight.
And then there are the maniacs. Insect-totems, waste-mages and pollution spectres. Calling them spirits often causes the mis-perception of weak, easy to handle creatures. They add more to our mortality rate, than Shadowrunners. I never met a dragon in flesh. Research once brought up the word “Nibelungen”. All I remember is, a raped noble-bitch made those who abused her pay in blood. Sad she died taking them out or in the emotional down thereafter. God bless her soul, she at least tried to score one for justice! And who would name a dragon Siegfried? And his ex-boyfriend Balmung coming back to bitch the brutal way or such. Bah, antiquated literature is only good so far. Tarot-Cards! Those old tales may have been about ancient symbolism as the rare sorcerers and witches must have worked hard, to keep their truth available to those who were gifted enough to find it. Confessions of crimes against us. From Muslim to Odin, it has not been the first time. First they scheme, backstab and poison and then such psychotic bunches start worshipping those they killed as saints, martyrs or deity-spawn. Weird, what forms guilt can take shape in. Loyal vassal to king Nuyen. In love with lord credstick and lady cash. That may be the prime truth behind such. But then, how should I know. I have never been a courtier to the Moribund. Blood-Sacrifice is coming next month! Hyped joy-pod game I can afford. Maybe I even help may contact in Poland to use those tarot cards. Would it be improper, to sacrifice some passer-by, looting to fund my day-dream? I guess not. Rumour has it that the GCP hires. Like Shadowrunners do. GCP hires for runs against the urban menace. Hm... could finance what I need. Somehow I doubt the corps will sit idle though. The fierce tenacity of their unforgiving agenda is nothing new here. Another option could be the viking route. Work on foreign soil. Something about Finland stirs my emotions. Though I guess I will die in Germany. Business didn't become simpler. The unholy trinity of governmental regulation, corporate self-interest and Shadowrunners selling out without a look on consequence. Muslim espionage, the simple level I could succeed with. Just using sorcery-surveillance to assure, that some wife does not break with the Koran. And next you know, she is some foreign witch using powers nearly unknown here. Further alienated by her alien priorities and the simple fact, that her culture perceives the world through some religious doctrine.
“The good news is, she seems chaste. The bad news is, she is a gifted heretic who noticed me on the job and is ready to take us both out for meddling with her, boss.” Wellpaying easy effort and low risk jobs, more the stuff of dreams. A chuckle for the deceased. If somebody you know claims competence, then ask him or her, to find a place in the AGS where there are no Turks. Wow, that is one of the pacts which worked out suspiciously well. They still needed screens to slide through their Matrix equivalent or news-net, when that deal already fruited. A fruit not devoured in time will rot and foul away. So much on the limits of forbidden fruits.
The ascension of alchemy – synthetic cocaine
Balm for the callous soul. Oh damn, wrong again. The opposition claims we are soulless creatures, despicable wretches. Nice how they try to turn us into monsters, the easier to rationalize their own atrocities. Truth be revealed, we indeed have a tendency to work in three modes. The solitary, the wolf-pack and the horde. Weird, that so many Suckers never realized, that we do not enforce such priorities on anybody else. We know, how to get what we want. Sometimes this means diplomacy. Or simply holding our part of an agreement. The sacred alchemists, or depraved drug-dealers, are among our brethren of opportunity. While synth-cocaine is more a pain-killer with euphoria as bonus, it helps after extensive sorcery. If pure enough. It's anaesthetic effect means, too, that it can improve meditation, if proper dosage is set. It's all in the formula. Neo-Amphetamine. The medium risk booster drug for the lazy magician. Prime risks are heart failure and damage to the central nervous system. Psychosis due lack of sleep is uncommon among us, as we meditate on a regular. Stim-patches and trauma-patches usually do the rest. It has been a while since a trinity mystic clashed all alone with a bloodthirsty biker-gang or Turkish-fundamentalists. Wolves. Grey wolves of Turkey. And I thought those Norse pestered much with their Fenris wolfdeity.
I am, by tendency, a monotheistic fellow. This does not depend on paradigm. I would side with Set in Egypt, with Jormungandr versus the vikings and with God, the Almighty One, among Christianity. Though it can be added, that Iblis and Satan have monotheistic versions, too. God had a plan, but Lucifer did the first Shadowrun to spoil it? Entities. Polytheists are simply to stupid and arrogant to realize, that their so called gods are entities at best. I still prefer the explanation, that they are just people suffering multiplepersonality disorder and henceforth hallucinating in such a split of insanity as well. One true faith, one divine boss. Though that may really be a matter of faith or atheism. Yeah. I remember Wrath of the true Savant. A classic for my joy-pod gaming passion. Slash infidels, hack heathens into pieces and butcher heretics. Decorate the villages with witch-entrails and call it all work for god! Plunder and loot though, each smith has weapon or armour upgrades. Sleight of hand training, so even small kids can smuggle their not precisely legal joy-pod wherever they go. Moral doesn't pay me and law is a matter of allegiance, welcome to the global age, dork. It is simply a matter of pleasure, to comfort oneself with drugs. Missing a tournament night is not necessary when some hours of meditation prevent the worst. And when the media broadcast the most villainous participants, formally called winners by us, then it is a moment of passion and tranquillity! Oh, yes. Exhaustion. I nearly forgot to note, that there is a reason for my drug-application. I lose several hours each day, to struggle versus the onslaught of some wraith-minion. One of those losing battles on the downward spiral. The final is clear, yet my treacherous entrails started this. There was no pain in the early years and henceforth I stumbled into lethal company unaware. I must have been something like a shining beacon to the murderous spirit of cruel endings. And my senses didn't warn me. No evasion, no counter-spelling. A death sentence by walking the wrong streets just once in my adulthood. That incident opened the final chapter of my life and sealed my walk on the dark path. As the wraith clashed with my essence, there was not enough light for two. And even if, the spirit joyfully assaults me by any means it can muster. Opening my aura to entropy and death, in a way, just doing its job. Certain GCP lore-masters mentioned the theory, that it could be me, who is another wraith-minion soon after exitus. My communicator receives another load of sermon from the Bavarian. A damn TeutonFanatic. Crusader they would label it. Otherwise he made a fine darkling. Yet I know they never accept a compromise. Fanatical political crusaders, often in disguise or behind the scenes, too. He is much more capable of sensing the future, maybe just smarter, than me. The dangerous kind of baleful prudence.
Recently they scored more among orcs and dwarves. Something about their new approach must be appealing. Maybe the promise of privileged rank in their elitist society? It happens more often now, that they outnumber other opinions. Somewhere among the Awakened, it may really be true, that a new force is rising in the darkness. Chaotic patterns too often display an abstract, deep-layer coordination for calling it off as hogwash. Beneficial is, they balance the Shadowrunners. It is not, that they would be so much more competent by now. Still mostly Street-Level thugs. It is obvious though, that they are much better informed about what the neutrals and political opponents are actually up to. The key slogans of today's immorality propaganda are modernity, progress, assertiveness, and freedom. No doubt, to have a modern world-view, to be abreast of current affairs and to be open-minded are good qualities, but the objective of the taint behind these fancy slogans is to present all kinds of immorality and perversion to people as if harmless and commonplace. This is why young people, who are largely unaware of the deliberate nature of their exposure to the persistent suggestions of the taint, think of immorality as a prerequisite to progress. Many people today perceive as normal attitudes and behaviour which as recently as ten years ago they would definitely not have tolerated. Not only that, any criticism of this conduct is now believed to be unacceptable. The increase in these attitudes is an indicator of the effectiveness of the taints enticement on weak-willed people. In short summary: Some darklings win quite often. I don't. Urban Brawl AGS brought on a newcomer this night!!! Wrestling became something, too. Did you ever see? That modern wrestling is one of the most well-rounded fighting arts of unarmed combat. And so colourful and stylish! Of course I only watch the females. With elves its not about winning and with orc-ladies it is not about sex. Structure, discipline and focus. Sounds like a list of diseases to me. I am more chaotic, than I appreciate myself. Because it worked for me, as all else failed or abandoned me. Patchwork-magic. Taking the Zen-meditation which came easy to me. The sorcerysummaries from hermetic sources, the practical explanations from the totemic bunch and the paradigm and meta-theory from Druidism. Just because from all available, that was, what helped me to gain some competence at all. Energy. For those who were not born of darkness, didn't transform into ghouls, vampires or creatures of dread, it begins with a different energy. Most spells and rituals are notoriously equal, which makes those “I am holier than you” crap-heads just nerds and deluded yokels, as not all of them are urban.
A mana-blast is around the degree, which a samurai would have from a silenced medium pistol. In our poorer districts that is Mauser Bane III, Luger Headblast IV or Japanese imports, mostly. American tech is great, but usually too expensive. Ammunition does the rest. Amour-piercing is a must these days and nights. High explosive is a noisy matter, not smart for all tasks. In truth guns are quite rare. Blades and batons very common, shock-gloves and spiked gloves, too. Conjurers hide behind summoned brutes, rich adepts hire samurai protection. Poorer fellows usually gang up or do stealthy murder. Wanderers rely on vigilance, quickness and powerful spells. Having some area-effect is simply a survival mechanism. Divination, protection including camouflage, neutralisation make for the better jobs though. Less risk of being torn to shreds and usually much better payment. Sometimes its not lack of money, but lack of job-offers. Forbidden cults are often the best as “Herr Schmidt”. Mr. Johnson? Strawman or Strawwoman, middle-men. I mustered a Japanese Tanto knife, an old Mauser Bane II, two clips of armour piercing bullets, eight per clip, (the handgun itself is a cheap variant of the Streetline Special) and an old lined coat. Joy-pod with twenty spare-energy cells. Cigarillos & Lighter. For the task at hand I can borrow a shark-bane beeper. One patch for the spirit and one for the flesh, that's it. Lousy start. More on the viking-hiking later. Oh yes. Shadowrunners work by assignment. I tend to follow the via conjunctionis, or way of conjunctions and constellations. With the ability to sense magic, some of us learned to sense probabilities. That is like knowing what destiny has in store for you, or getting orders from god, though I consider this blasphemous. God is divine, magic is not divine. See? Once more an aspect that the opposition tends to ignore or forget. Meeting a vampire is mentioned in fiction and magic theory manifold. But being attacked by the shiny-white-light legions is often lacking. How to be a decent dark mage, if you can't even save your life from the wrath of an angelic spirit type? Pseudo-Angels, angelic punks, something like this. Radiant astral manifestations of a Christianizing fever-dream.
The answer is mistakes, delusions or greed. The war is not light against dark. The war is a conflict of interest and need for resources. Inexperienced pups from all fractions fuck it up on a regular, so most people can't even imagine that all fight a losing war. Even if they survive they all have tainted or forsaken their true goals for life. Oh come on, don't expect straight speech from mystics, some spiritual or vague blah is part of nearly any tradition. And I never joined those anyway.
When I get back into teenage maturity, than my spiritual senses take toll on the brain. Yet I have no problem with leisure and pleasure, as far as it is my definition of it. Others should enjoy themselves in their own ways, I am no messiah or educational science guru. No Sim-Sense starlet either. Oh. I still know them as Riggers. Transport specialists. Those people who fly the helicopter through a raging thunderstorm and call it party, those who consider a boat damaged, whenever it is not at maximum speed. Those who win car races, except when the lack of speed, killer-curves and shakes bores them.
I mix up some disinfecting mouth-balm and apply it. I shave my face and head. I take a shower, still water, not sonic. My gear is cleansed, laid around for quick gathering. I lay myself down, ready for the counter-spell, goal is meditation. The wraith-spawn attached to me attacks, nearly as expected. It even tries to keep me from the darkness which devours my original ways of visualized progressive muscle-relaxation meditation... I take its first hit like in a Thai-Boxing match, before its second onslaught impacts, I finish the seal.
I am frustrated, as I cannot telepathically make my words become written. I write this a bit more like Cultures VI, a fascinating oldie game for my joy-pod. Hey, if you like oldies, don't miss Shadowrunners Creed III, it has less glitches and runs more stable, than part IV. Our sight falls upon the small seacraft upon which the team and crew are assembled. The small harbour just around one hour away from the city of Hamburg is basked in enticing light this night. If one is the nature-loving type. Hamburg, a city tracing its existence back since even before the golden age of seafaring merchants, the age in which it received the title “Hansestadt”. Most people focus more on the seedy pleasures which made it become a bastion of harlots, drugs, criminal enforcers and boring German history though. “Auf der Reeperbahn nachts um halb-eins...” - old song performed and remixed through the ages. The task-force hired by the “von Junzt foundation” was ready. A less than caring and usually day-dreaming trinity mystic as the only partial exception. Looking at their status on our joy-pods we see, they are fed, rested and neither prayer nor sex have utter priority right now. Only the mystic is slightly hurt, viciously attacked by a sickness and a wraithspawn nurtured by his state. The doctor handed him some patches though. We can see the life bar and spirit bar slightly raise up again on our display. Further we know, that most around him are more experienced, yet of different ilk. As we downloaded the patch, our joy-pod even displays the status of the wraith-spawn, a quite dedicated servant of wrathful death. Remember, that the status bar for love means the need to energy-drain some mortal, when it comes to the wraith-spawn! Our anonymous little trinity mystic got his wraith-spawn counter working for a while, we see its energy bar slowly decreasing. Sailors haste around, doing their jobs. The spellslingers unleash what their rituals had prepared. Among them, between the magicians and the guards, there stands the Paper-Mage. For this trip he is a very crucial figure. As the boat is handled by a veteran rigger and professional crew, the journey starts fluently. The goals are a short stop in Denmark, around half an hour after the AGS water police pestered about bureaucracy. And twenty two minutes after the control cops of Denmark did similar.
Some people start a small chat and make some fierce jokes, not quoted to avoid sexism and such. Their socialize bars can be seen rising on our joy-pod. The vessel leaves the harbour after just one hour of shadowy dealing and picking up some more spellslingers. As there is no special need for hurry, it takes three hours with a timeloss of fifteen minutes due Norwegian water control. Then the harbour of Bergen can be seen. Bergen is roughly at the western coast of Norway, around the middle of the countries height. Don't ask darklings, find a navigator. As difficult waters have to be crossed, the final part of the journey takes some more time and one more patrol of the Norwegians checks for verification. The Paper-Mage was seriously doing a good job, all fluent. Roughly ten sea-miles south-west of Narvik the task force reaches its goal. Close to the shore they meet some more people. The suspiciously weird-types. A load of Norse sermon starts, ancient deities are named. A marsh has to be done and our joy-pod shows that some people didn't do enough work-outs or wandering. A camouflaged cavern is approached by the team. Our trinity mystic, lets name him Adrian Penasi, is sweating, smoking a cigarillo and experiencing minor black-outs. We can see his spirit and health bars flicker on our joy-pod. The wraith-spawn is posturing sinisterly diplomatic, stopping its attacks on Mr. Penasi. The team enters the cave, displaying some minor formation and safeguard intent. The spellslingers start astral work, the joy-pod displays their spirit bars slowly sinking. Adrian looks into the camera of joy-pod prime and holds a small monologue: So here I am. Lets start with the obvious. Draugr is dröge when it comes to German language. Dröge is dried-out, draughty or too dry, when it comes to Island-apes, formally known as English, British or (falsely) American. Draugr are undead. This cavern has some necromantic meaning, which I am not fully aware of. As I watched several Sherlock Holmes and big tits find out sims, I can deduce this though: The von Junzt foundation is part of the von Junzt society. One of their goals is the creation of ghoul cults, which needs ghouls capable of sorcery or at least with enough discipline to indulge anything but flesh-feasting and killing. Then they can investigate those ghoul cults, with media attention, and praise the glory of their founder. This cavern is nearly ancient. A ritual place. As the task at hand is ghoul'o'mancy or draughty-creation rites, some of the people who joined with us will be priests or necromancers. What they are doing here may not precisely be appreciated by the government or anybody with common sense. The guards are hopefully as deadly as they look, if the draughty decide to devour us, they could be needed.
That is what they envy about me! Those ignorant fucks don't sense my suffering, they just glare in morbid fascination at the effect which clashing with the wraith-spawn cursed me with. They see it as opportunity, to rise as a wraith after dying. A halfway there guarantee? Better a wraith-spawn, than no undead at all? Ghoul sorcerer is the ideal though. Switch back to joy-pod overview now, I surely am paid for energizing their ritual as the little assistant again.
On our joy-pods its clear to see. Adrian collapsed in the 3rd part of the ritual. Around twenty minutes after his knock-out by spiritual exhaustion something happened. Yes, four team-members, those who joined in Denmark and Norway among them, have changing bars. No more socializing in example, one got a new bar, too. Oh. The bar is fickle and small, partial success. They created three draugr and one draughty-adept. That is not enough. But the rite takes time and the transformation does not exactly raise the wish for communication. What the cameras don't get must have been limited, to the spellslingers special senses and goggles. They drag Penasi along, not leaving him as ghoul-food. Wow, seems they have future need of his cheap service. Some of us have watched the wraith-spawn in the meanwhile. Did you notice? The creature drained energy from the people and the ritual. Look at its bars now. It has a minor increase of potential, becoming even more deadly. It looks cool and the dark eye-sinks have a faint eldritch-red glow now! Meanwhile Adrian Penasi gets back to his feet. Whoa. I woke-up aboard. Damn shaky sea. I felt really double-crossed in the cavern. Must have been a side-effect of handling my energizing spirit. Or some such. Feeling is a weird term. Feeling the pain in my muscles or the nausea in my guts has not really much to do with feeling love, hate or joy? Yes, my joy-pod is unscathed. In virtual realms I could fight a dragon, too. Oh it's about time for a steaming mug of soya-coffee, spiced with cinnamon, caramel and sugar. Maybe even my sense of balance suffices, to make this petty venture under deck. Kombüse, German for a ships' kitchen. Time for an attempted joke. When Nelly Fortitude sings “She is a man-eater” then among our brethren most would just ask: “Who isn't?”. Ah, I bet that is too tough again. My dislike for cannibalism is one of the reasons, that I still get nightmares about the forests of Hessen. Hessen, like Thuringia or Bavaria one of our federal states on ancient maps, or even early tribes or some such.
I usually call it Meuchelwald, roughly translated as cut-throat-forest. That is something like ambush valley or sniper alley, not purely geography, yet sometimes life-saving knowledge of sorts. I got my coffee. Sometimes it is really, as if the body waited for it. The warmth, the flavour and the stimulants all being welcome. The problem is, that addiction tends to make us do it, when our body has neither need nor capacity for it, too. Self-destruction, a road with multitudes of options.
Add-In: Initiation secrets
Awakened whacks there are plenty, destined mages not half as many. Nobody cares about what Adrian Penasi has to note though. Before initiation magic is seemingly in the hands of talented poseurs. It is the process of initiation, which allows to overcome the humanoid limitation which hinders handling energies we know as magic. It's called drain and burnout. A real sorcerer or magician will start being such only after initiation. That is where the real power slowly begins to allow one some minor effects. Blasting a punk in the streets is by far not the same league than making a dragon choose a lair far away or mind-bending the complete corporate leadership into acting sane for a while. Another less known fact about initiation is: Changing sides makes it go all down the toilet. Totemic shaman tainted into darkness will not be half the potential he or she was with accustomed spirits. Wielding completely different energies, actually unknown beyond theory until then, may take some time of learning. At least for a while. Magicians ain't sperm-cells anymore. Magic is no race where there is one final goal and once reached you are the best for life. The one true final is death. For most of us, to be modest. Oh, one of my favourites: Initiation is not necessarily what someone defines as initiation. Ever heard of deception, cruel pranks or simply traps? Delusions defeated more spellslingers, than sniper rifles did. Some Technomancers, console-junkies as hackers do us the favour of being extroverts. Look how much is to be upgraded about a cyberdeck and that is just the hardware! Without proper software, which to us is spells and rituals, it is just another piece of furniture in gods creation. Patience, self-reliance and routine founded in years of practise. Such is in the recipe for the base skills and abilities. Surviving those years against street-crime, wilderness survival or corporate intrigue is just adding the flavour of mortal life in our age. Anybody who considers initiation to be less intense than a complete academic study is either suffering delusions of grandeur, or is already lost to an incurable inferiority complex and compensating it. Of course joy-pods shouldn't be underestimated either.
Add-In - 1st attempt of a group concept
The Spidersilk&Justice dream Purpose: Survival. That is the first and base idea. The group further investigates magic beyond spells, especially the forces of fate and how they impact mortal life. The group is empiric, sometimes lacking academic cliché. Some members actually perceive theory as the same as incompetence, or insanity. The group trades in experiences, as most members are not the academy type who only knows predefined approaches. Sometimes they “translate” their lesser mysteries to offer something to other groups. Members: 120 worldwide. Solitaries and what Adrian Penasi would call “packs” (shark as often as wolf) are most common. Gang-mentality is sometimes emulated to craft their sanctuary in an area. Insignia: WebGangsta -a jolly European hunting-spider, sometimes hanging head down in a web. other times jumping or running. often added the individuals favoured occult or self-made symbol. Strictures: Belief (faith in magical self-discovery and practise), Dues (one yearly, clear experience report per member), Exclusive Membership (more by necessity), Fraternity, Secrecy, Limited Membership (want to be members must have done one self-initiation & made a real near-deathexperience, or have been severely attacked by a spirit or similar); Material Link (to avoid stuff like Cannibalizing or Power-theft between members). Willingness for dream-pacts is seen as a “merit”. Resources/Dues: Low on their own, medium or high when the patron supports the specific task. Secret Patron: The von Junzt leadership of the same named society, foundation and corporation Description & Customs: On its own the group ganged up for survival and to put poor peoples solidarity against the discrimination due circumstances. Not many members really understand, why the von Junzt's are so friendly with job-offers to them. Members get support to prepare their initiation, sometimes limited to being told, what others experienced. Other times full support, even members secretly adapting the ritual, which they learned to energize von Junzt mages with on demand, to take spiritual backlash for their new member. The group cares about initiation, spell-research as exchange and rituals. Meta-magical or planar quests are seen with suspicion. Of course exceptions are possible. On such occasion a pack or taskforce is build, risking their own lives, while the rest of the group tries to ward and guard against potential trouble. Nobody goes martyr for another's personal ambition here! The group tends to include avengers, chaos magicians or black magic approaches & spider-shamans. As far as integrity and loyalty allow such, which is not “Satanic dream-scale”.
Playability- The group as tradition
Concept: The Spidersilk&Justice dream is a self-teaching, survival oriented group. The group shuns not the black or chaos magician tradition, as poor people need a dose of selfishness, to make it. The group searches for answers in typical European traditions, as it stems from there and some of its more advanced magical successes are founded there. The trinity mystic idea always comes down to: Your personal wishes, your necessities and your heritage. Among humans the definition the author attempts in this file is really most common. Elves and Orcs would vary, dwarves are very rare and trolls unknown among them until now. The tradition occasionally frowns at Finland for those troll-posers. All enlightened know after all, that true trolls regenerate! The following can be seen as a guideline for magicians or mystic-adepts, who actually are raised, even before initiation, by a stereotypical little group of trinity mystics. Plenty of members neglect mentor spirits, as powerful archaic is still archaic and the modern age has its own resources and demands. Combat: Detection: Health: Illusion: Manipulation: Drain: Eldritch Guidance Water Joy-Pod spirits of Man Earth Willpower + Intuition
Typical loyalty rating (see 4th edition Shadowrun rulebook page 279): 3 or 4 Poor Grunt as NPC example: B 3 A 3 R 3 S 3 C 3 I 4 L 3 W 4 ESS M Init IP CM 6 3 7 1 10
Astral Initiative/IP: 8/3 Skills: Assensing 3, Astral Combat 1, Banishing 4, Etiquette (Street) 1, Instruction 1, Knives 1, Pistols 2, Sorcery Group 3, Unarmed Combat 1 Gear: Leather Coat (2/3), Knife, cheap Joy-pod, 1 spare cell, stim patch (1), trauma patch (1), 20¥ Spells: Detect Enemies or Detect Magic, Heal, Physical Barrier, Acid Stream, Stunball Grunt Lieutenants (based on poor Grunt): Raise all attributes of the poor grunt by 1, make skill Instruction 2, add Leadership 2. Add 2 spells Gear: Lined Coat (6/4), Knife, Streetline Special with 3 clips of armour piercing bullets, astral goggles, stim patch (2), trauma patch (2), certified credstick with 150¥, Joy-pod with 3 spare-cells Contacts: Group members (grunts), Talismonger, a mentor-trinity mystic, Mr.Johnson (von Junzt)
Draughty-concept by newbie hands
Draughty (Pietroschek ghoul variant) Draughty are metahumans infected with the Krieger strain of the Human-Metahuman Vampiric Virus (HMHVV) or created due a dark-magical Shedim-pact. The virus or ritual causes the victim or volunteer to lose all body hair. The skin becomes a rough, crumbled or sunken inwards, yet scabrous hide (counts as leather armour), and the fingers elongate, with the nails hardening into claws. Teeth become sharper and fangs get added, while the eyes develop a red, reflective colour and become capable of infravision. The transformation destroys the victim's intellect in some cases, but many draughty remain quite intelligent (Body test on transformation is advised). Draughty feed on the flesh of dead metahumans, along with that of other dead animals. They tend to hunt or scavenge in packs of anywhere from four to tribe. They prefer to “live” in isolated areas apart from humans and metahumans, but close enough for them to feed on the dead. Graveyards, mortuaries, and illegal chop shops are common Draughty haunts. Natural Habitat: Settled areas worldwide. B A R S C I L W EDG ESS M Init IP 7 3 5 6 142 5 3 5 1 9 1 Movement: As metatype Skills: Assensing 2, Athletics 1, Intimidation 3, Perception 3, Stealth 1, Outdoors 1, Unarmed Combat 2 Draughty of the ilk I mention in this file would have some knowledges, like Asatru 2 or Norse languages 2, in addition. Leadership and Athletics could be added, where proper. Powers: Dual Natured, Enhanced Senses (Sight, Smell, Taste), Natural Weapon (Claws: DV 4P, AP 0), Sapience & one from: Energy Aura, Guard, Corrosive Spit, Mystic Armour, Search or Venom (claws). Regeneration, if you you consider it game-balanced (tougher or martial players). Weaknesses: Allergy (Sunlight, Mild), Allergy (Copper, Mild), Dietary Requirement (Metahuman Flesh) & Vulnerability (Fire damage is doubled) Notes: Statistics given are for a standard human Draughty; apply metatype attribute modifiers as appropriate. Some rare draughty, even if not lieutenants or leaders to their ilk, may have the Adept, Magician, or Mystic Adept qualities in addition. Typical loyalty rating (see 4th edition Shadowrun rulebook page 279): 3 to 5 To be continued... sooner, later, or never.
The funds earned on von Junzt regular
650¥ per week with being on call, maximmum of 20 hours work. Bonus: A stim patch.
can become 1000¥ per week, maximmum of 20 hours work. Bonus: A stim patch & a trauma patch. This is only for proven magicians, a minimum of one year on the job. It means, they learn a second ritual, have to give one more material link and can expect to be abused as spiritual and physical puppet. Reliable income which, in both cases, allows the low lifestyle with some bonus money and lots of spare time. ¥ = symbol for Nuyen.
Being on call bears its problems, yet the kind of job allows two crucial to magicians and adepts goals. To focus on initiation without worry for a lifestyle purchased. To have the luxury of time for personal interests, like martial arts courses and spell search. NOTE: When I started this file I was out of Shadowrun for a while. My own last characters were a rat-shaman who got killed by a dwarven bouncers “Remington roomsweeper express ticket to the morgue” and an adept when we craved martial arts flair with cyberware. The group dissolved though.
My own last whimsical dream was about making the entire group be private eyes, magical detective, traditional sleuth, cybernetic investigator and such. Playing in a smaller city, where corporations are not instant-overwhelming to allow mixing classic films or movies with the unique Shadowrun-Flair.
I would like some rest, some research on Shadowrun and waiting, till I am in the mood to write. I made this as a probe, a sample. This way people can see, that I actually at least attempt anything, instead of just claiming or bragging. My Linux crashed, while saving this file here. Once or twice I consider possible. If it happens more often, than I consider not being destined to write anything for Shadowrun and posture the superstitious-type. ;-) If you like oldies, then get an emulator and Sega Genesis Shadowrun. The one where your brother was killed on a run and you can start as Samurai, Shaman of Gator or Decker. I stored a copy of this legal abandonware at: www.esnips.com/web/pietroschekswebresearch/ Maybe one day I test Shadowrun-Online. The author.
The lazy part of me just got the idea of re-writing my “Poison what you can't conquer.pdf” from Vampire into Shadowrun. But doing research and making a new approach seems more like pseudo-professional author. Pseudo, because I am the author of all my files. Yet I am not paid as an author, which would seriously round up that aspect of me into a beneficial one.