I had a lot of fun with this session. It was good to have the whole group back
together again, and everyone was excited to finally wrap things up in
Calico. I love RP heavy sessions, and
this session was just that. There was
ZERO combat; and frankly, I don’t think anyone missed it. Combat is a necessary part of the PnP
experience, and it can be DAMN entertaining and thrilling when things run
smoothly. As I have reiterated several
times in this blog, Rifts does not have a system conducive to seamless combat. As such I almost dread combat engagements,
even though they play such an important role in driving character advancement
and storyline. Given my tribulations
with the Palladium system, having an RP heavy session where we were really only
rolling for skill checks was a welcome respite.
Session 4: Making
New Friends?
Back Into the Cold Light of Day
We
resumed this session pretty much right where we left off, the group had finally
bested Uriah Fray and gained control of the mine back for Winston and his
mercenaries. The price of victory,
however, was high. Izzy had lost her
life when a stray bullet from Carlin’s rifle had caught her in the back as she
rushed to aid Vincent, and Max lay near death after suffering a series of full
frontal, close range laser blasts. With
armor tattered, ammunition low, morale crushed, and exhaustion setting in the
group pulls itself together. They wrap
Izzy’s body in her cloak, and use a hover dolly to move Max’s limp form towards
the main elevator shaft (Carlin, distraught, carries Izzy in his arms and
refuses anyone else’s help). The cyborg
miners, now free from Uriah’s control, stand in the main tunnel dumbstruck,
unsure if they should help or stay back.
Eventually they lurch forward to assist the group, offer their thanks,
and help to get power running back in the mine.
With the lift operational, the group makes their way to the surface, but
not before Carlin makes a dangerous decision.
He sends Eve back to the detonator box, has her rearm the explosives,
and take the remote detonator when she sneaks back out the rear entrance to the
mine while the rest of the group exits the front of the mine.
In a
solemn procession the players and the liberated cyborgs make their way towards
Calico from the mine. While making their
way down the trail the cyborgs profess their heartfelt gratitude to the group
for their help, and apologize profusely for what happened to their
friends. They explain how they came to
be enslaved, falling prey to Fray’s honeyed tongue; they reiterate, especially
given their recent experiences, that they refuse to work in the mine until they
are paid a greater share of the mine’s profits.
Carlin tells them not to worry about it, he has a plan. Several of Winston’s combat robots have taken
position on the edge of town, focusing their massive cannons on the mine after
seeing the players enter earlier in the day.
Carlin refuses to acknowledge Winston’s radio traffic, carrying Izzy’s
body as he stalks resolutely back into Calico.
A medic from the mercenary company rushes forward and begins to treat
Max as Carlin kicks in the door to the central building in Calico, his comrades
following behind him. Winston, seated at
the central table in the converted garage, demands to know what happened as
Carlin lays Izzy’s body down before him.
Tersely,
Carlin explains the events that transpired in the mine. While Winston initially expresses pleasure at
the group’s success, as well as sympathy for the loss of their friend, Carlin
refuses to acknowledge Winston’s praise.
He angrily confronts Winston about his exploitation of their situation,
and how he feels that what Winston asked of them was too much in exchange for
doing the right thing and helping recover the injured passengers from the plane
crash. He admonishes Winston for low
balling the miners, and forcing them into a position where they felt that they
had to turn to a madman like Fray for help.
In his frustration, Carlin accidentally exposes the fact that Mina had
helped Fray gain control of the mine. Mina,
eavesdropping, bursts into the garage as Winston begins to reach for his
pistol. She confirms Carlin’s story, but
quickly explains about how she never knew that Uriah intended to do what he had
done. She had been blinded by his offer
of giving her release from her pain, and in this way he had fooled even her
impressive insight into intention and character. Mina, years of pain flooding through her,
finally confronts her father about how he has used her and her abilities
despite the awful cost. Winston,
resolute that he had done what he had in her best interests, refuses to admit
fault. His anger at Carlin’s
impertinence, mixed with his betrayal from Mina, nearly pushed him to
violence. In the end, he agreed to
double the miner’s take from the mine.
The group, however, was no longer welcome in Calico, and he cast Mina
out with them. The Ironhorse would
arrive in two days and until it did the group and Mina would have to stay on
the edge of Calico, after Max was released from medical care they would receive
no further services from the mercenaries.
Carlin did not have to resort to threatening the mine with the
detonator, but it was far from an ideal resolution to their arrangement.
The
group rested and repaired what equipment they could with the supplies they had
available. Carlin, in secret, had begun
to treat his pain with copious amounts of alcohol he had acquired from one of
the mercenaries before the events in the mine.
The group solemnly buried Izzy in a grave atop a hill overlooking both Calico
and the mine. No one could find the
right words; they were still in shock after what had happened. Several tense minutes later they silently
made their way back down the hill as the red sun set against the horizon. Later that night the rescue party Winston
promised finally arrives back in Calico with the injured crash survivors, the
player’s equipment/vehicles, and Seth in tow.
After seeing to the wounded, Seth offers his condolences and listens
intently as the group explains their adventures since he last saw them leaving
for the bandit camp on the highway. Seth
is impressed with what the players have accomplished, and informs them that he
is unsurprised by Winston’s behavior.
Seth and Winston have a long history, one in which either man plays the
manipulative bastard depending on who you are currently speaking to. Seth informs the party that he has a friend
in the Barony of Wilmington, a fellow Justice Ranger named Jericho, who could
find work or provide information for the players if they need it. He provides them with one of his badges as
proof of their connection with him, and bids them farewell before setting back
out for his camp by starlight.
Now Boarding the Blue Line
The
arrival hour of the TW Ironhorse had finally arrived, after two uncomfortable
days on the outskirts of Calico the party abandoned their patchwork RV, packed
their equipment, and assembled at a nearby clearing in the rocks as the hour
approached midnight. Portable generators
and stadium lights were assembled, loading cranes were assembled, and the
cyborg miners lined out the cargo containers with their precious cargo for
loading. With preparations made, it was
only a matter of waiting for the ley line which would herald the train’s
arrival. The group felt it coming as the
full moon was finally visible through the clouds, the hair on the back of their
arms and necks standing on end. Those
with psychic and mystic powers felt a sudden lurching sensation, like they were
suddenly freefalling through the air.
Small blue motes of light began to flash and disappear, increasing in
frequency, intensity, and number. With
an audible snap a massive ley line over thirty feet tall slithered across the
horizon and down into the clearing. This
river of transparent blue energy, a physical manifestation of the magic which
had erupted after the Apocalypse, seethed and pulsed with a life of its own.
Carlin,
despondent and seeking a moment of solitude, activates his TW Glider (a
technowizard device capable of surfing ley lines like a hang glider) and takes
to the air. He cruises low over the ley
line, pushing his glider to top speed as he tries to escape his guilt. Soon he catches sight of the Ironhorse, a
technowizard marvel that is unmatched in the world. Following the ley line as it twists and turns
through the hills and rocks, the train floats meters above the ground like the
mag-lev trains of the old world. Most of
the Ironhorse’s twenty flatbeds are empty, but on more than one are turret
systems erected by the train’s security personnel, and they each begin to track
Carlin as he passes over the train and swings back towards Calico. The two arrive back in the clearing in tandem,
and the miners busy themselves loading their ore and offloading their supplies while
Carlin stores his glider. The group
holds back while Winston speaks with the conductor and head of security, not
wishing to antagonize the bitter veteran any further. As soon as he pulls back towards Calico the
group approaches in order to arrange passage.
The
conductor, a grey haired technowizard with an easy smile named Jasmina,
relieves the party’s worries about Winston tainting their reputation. She explains that she has known Winston for
years, and is well acquainted with his dark demeanor. She and her chief of security explain that
when they arrived one of the miners explained the group’s recent exploits, both
in the mine and the plane crash, and they offer to provide the party free
transport if they are willing to man the turrets on the return trip to
Wilmington. The party readily agrees,
and soon their vehicles and equipment are securely strapped down to one of the
flatbeds. As the party begins to take
their places on the train, one of the miners hails Vincent. He explains that he and the other miners had
spoken, and unanimously agreed that after everything the party had done it was
unthinkable that they were leaving Calico practically empty handed. The miners had pooled some of their savings
together, and gave Vincent a cred stick with 90,000 credits. The miner explained that with their new cut
of the mine’s profits they would recuperate the loss in short time, and that
they only wished they could afford to give more. Vincent gratefully accepts, and the funds are
split evenly amongst the group.
With
all personnel loaded, including the crash survivors, and their cargo secured
the train slowly levitates back off the ground and lurches into motion heading
southwest along the ley line. The
players catch one last look back in the pale moonlight at the glow of Calico,
the shadow of the mine, and a single hilltop with a lonely cairn of rocks
before the Ironhorse weaves its way into the hills. Each of the players is manning a turret on a
different car, with Carlin providing intervals of aerial reconnaissance,
throughout the trek into Colorado. The
trip to Wilmington took nine hours, swerving between hills and across vast
stretches of plain and forest. Only once
during the trip was there cause for alarm.
As the train dipped down into a jagged canyon, it ran over a deep blue
river alongside which a dirt road had been carved into the rock. A single figure was briefly seen walking this
road, dressed in black preacher’s robes and broadcasting a spiritual hymn on
the party’s private radio frequency that only Ivan was able to make out
clearly. Before anything could be done
the Ironhorse veered out of the canyon and back into the hills on the eastern
border of Colorado. There was no way to
tell if it was Uriah, but Ivan felt a sense of dread which was wholly
uncharacteristic for the hardened combat borg.
Settling a Business Dispute
When
the Ironhorse finally pulled to a stop in a grassy field just over a ridge from
Wilmington, the group was more than ready to disembark. The journey had been thrilling, and a welcome
respite from the barren monotony of the Badlands. The promise of civilization and a good
night’s sleep in a real bed had carried them far, but now their eyes were sore
and the rocking of the train had left most of them feeling queasy. As they dismounted in the mid-morning sun,
the conductor gave them direction into town and told them to visit if they had
any questions (the train was not due to leave for another two days). Carlin, his curiosity overcoming his
depression, asked for a tour of the Ironhorse, and while the group unloaded
their vehicles and equipment he spent the better part of an hour poking his
nose around the marvelous construction.
Finally stepping onto the road the party crested the ridge and looked
down with glad hearts at the small city spread beneath them. Wilmington had been built in the center of a
pre-Rifts ruin, its tall walls and guard towers looked down on rubble and the
tents hovels of those too poor to afford a bed inside the city proper. The city itself was a patchwork of pre-Apocalypse
and modern construction, housing around 20,000 people in close confines. Those buildings inside the walls which could
be salvaged had been restored, and stood alongside modular prefabricated units set
together like connecting blocks.
Upon
arrival at the gate, a bored guard takes a list of the character’s names and
intentions. He lets them through with a
stern warning that any violence would be met in kind, and no psionics or magic
were allowed inside the city walls by anyone except servants of the city. Expulsion or worse awaited those who violated
these rules. As the party entered
Wilmington they were surprised to learn that a fair was being prepared for that
night, and all around the city people were bustling back and forth in
preparation. The group headed for the center of town, as
Jasmina had told them that the best bars and hotels could be found there. The grassy field in the town center was
festooned with lights and tents in preparation for the fair. The city hall, one of the surviving
pre-Apocalypse buildings, was a three story red brick courthouse complete with
granite columns and a clock tower.
Several of the sheriff’s deputies lounged outside on the steps, casually
scanning the crowd and the players with mild disinterest. There were multiple choices for lodging, but
the group settled on the largest establishment; a two story street corner bar
and brothel named Clanaghan’s.
Once
inside Ivan, Vincent and Max elected to find a custom armorer that Jasmina had
recommended. Jaco was a “strange little
D-Bee”, but Jasmina swore that his work was second to none. After these three left, Mina headed upstairs
to rest while Eve partook of the bar’s more specialized services. Carlin, foul of mood, sat at the bar and
tried to forget his failings in a bottle of whiskey. It didn’t take long for Ivan, Vincent, and
Max to find Jaco’s, though things did not seem promising when they arrived at
the alley staircase leading down to Jaco’s workshop and saw that his sign had
been torn off the wall and snapped in half.
Inside they found the shop torn to shreds; benches flipped, tools
missing, and the D-Bee himself curled into a ball in the corner. Jaco, still reeling from the assault, told
the players that he was no longer open and that they would have to find
somewhere else to do business. Vincent,
alarmed and outraged at the condition of the poor creature, immediately began
to question Jaco about what had happened.
Jaco spoke poor English at the best of times, and in his current state
he was only able to blurt out broken words.
The only two things were comprehensible in the little man’s mumbling:
“Tools stolen!” and “Mitchelson!”
Max
suddenly recalled that three young men had been hurrying down the street away
from the alley just as they had arrived; with all the bustle of the fair
preparations he had not thought much of it at the time. The trio lunged back up the steps to try and
see if the hoodlums were still around. Ivan,
his vision bionically enhanced, was able to pick the three out. Vincent, thinking quickly, told Ivan to keep
tracking the boys while he ran for the deputies. Max, still sore and recovering from his
experience, stayed with Jaco to ensure no one came back to finish the job. Ivan did his best to casually follow the
three thugs at a distance, but sooner than later they were going to catch onto
the walking battle tank some 50 meters behind them. Vincent, sprinting at full speed, crossed the
green and waved down the deputies at the courthouse. He breathlessly explained what had happened,
and half the deputies took off at a run while another (who just happened to be
THE sheriff, Wyatt Harper) asked Vincent to link him through his radio to Ivan,
who in turn amplified the man’s voice through his loudspeaker. The sheriff, cursing “Mitchell’s sons”,
instructed the three to halt, but as soon as the boys heard the voice they knew
they had been found out and scattered to the alleys in a mad scramble.
Ivan, picking the one with the
heaviest looking bag, gave chase and drove his quarry underneath an old truck which
had been converted into a horse drawn wagon.
Pushing the cart aside with ease, Ivan growled at the sight of an open
manhole cover too small for him to fit through.
He plunged his hand down, catching a fistful of cloth. As he hauled the kicking boy to the surface
he found that he had grabbed the backpack, and the young thug quickly undid the
shoulder straps and vanished back down the manhole. Ivan, however, had maintained the presence of
mind to photograph the boy’s face.
Though his prey had escaped, the armorer’s tools were recovered and
there was proof to supply the sheriff of who had assaulted Jaco and destroyed
his workshop. It took some time for Ivan
to make his way back, though; the man who had owned the cart that Ivan cast
aside was more than a little perturbed at the cyborg’s inconsiderate treatment
of his property. Back at the shop, Jaco
could not express his gratitude and joy enough at the unexpected help he had
received. He offered the three, and
anyone they recommended to him, a fifty percent discount on any repairs they
needed while they were in Wilmington.
They would have to wait for tomorrow though, for now Jaco needed to put
his shop back in order. Before leaving
the sheriff told the players to watch their backs, as the boys they had
provided evidence against were the sons of a powerful local businessman who was
one of Jaco’s competitors in the armory market.
The Wilmington Fair
As the sun began
to set, the various members of the group assembled on the ground floor of
Clanaghan’s and decided that they were due for some entertainment after the
trying week they had just endured. They
headed out to the fair, each wandering off to enjoy the sights, sounds, and
festivities. The only exceptions were
Mina, who remained in her room in preparation of the migraine she felt coming
on, and Vincent. Though the garage where
his precious package was stored with the vehicle was guarded in the day, at
night it was only locked and left unguarded.
He had taken it upon himself to sleep in the garage in order to ensure
its safety. The festival was one of many
Wilmington held each year; it was considered one of the more raucous towns of
the New West, though it did not care the dark reputation of baronies like Charity. This particular celebration was to
commemorate the life of one of Wilmington’s founders, a person who apparently
went to great lengths to welcome and accept newcomers of all types. The ritual for this particular celebration
was to place necklaces woven from flowers around the neck of any person you had
not met before. Halfway through the
night the players were almost staggering under the weight of the flowers draped
around their necks. Occasional laser
blasts, gunshots, or brawls erupted as whores who had been banned from plying
their trade at the fair shouted cat calls from adjacent balconies. The deputies, out in force, would quickly handle
any situation that arose and no one seemed particularly surprised at these
random outbursts of violence. This WAS
the New West after all.
Not all was
going well, however. Carlin was still
drinking, and still obsessing over Izzy’s death. He was careening recklessly through the
crowd, barely in control of himself (physically and emotionally). Suddenly, he pushed his way through the crowd
and stumbled headlong into a ghostly apparition of Izzy standing before
him. Startled, he drew his pistol and
began to stammer illegible and slurred apologies as the ghost of his dear
friend accusingly demanded to know why he had killed her. Carlin’s friends, observing these events from
across the dance floor, quickly tried to reach the drunken mage before he made
another fatal error. Max, ever
observant, noticed two menacing men that were following Ivan through the
commotion. Taking a defensive stance
behind his friend, the two men stopped and glared at Max. One, a thin and sallow fellow who was
completely hairless, took a knife from his pocket and tapped its point beneath
his eye before slinking back into the crowd.
Eve and Ivan arrived at Carlin’s side just as the deputies began to
close in on him, ordering him to drop his weapon. Suddenly, Carlin felt a wave of relief sweep
over him. His grief and anger was
replaced with an abiding sense of peace.
He collapsed forward into the arms of Izzy, whose specter had
transformed into the form of a slight young woman. Quickly gathering their friend, the party
apologized to the sheriff, who grudgingly let them go with a warning to keep
Carlin away from the remainder of the festivities. The young woman, showing sincere interest in
the wellbeing of this obviously tortured man, helped Eve to carry Carlin back
to Clanaghan’s.
Her name was
Clover, and unbeknownst to the group she was actually here on an assignment from
a high ranking cyberknight named Raul to find Vincent. She was a talented mind melter who used her
considerable psychic powers to her advantage as a thief and cat burglar. She was not necessarily the type that worked
alongside cyberknights, and had only taken this job in order to avoid having
her name and image sent through the cyberknight’s networks to every law keeper
and Justice Ranger west of Kansas. She
had tried to steal from this particular knight, a man who just happened to have
psychic powers equivalent to hers. He
struck a deal with the young woman; she would find a compatriot of the knight
who had gone missing enroute from Kingsdale to Tolkeen with an important
package ultimately bound for the Colorado baronies. Raul had heard that his plane had crashed in
the Badlands, and that there may be survivors.
As Wilmington was the closest city to the Badlands, Raul figured if this
young knight was alive he would carry on with his mission and come to the
closest city he could find. Raul also
hoped that this mission would give Clover a chance to see that there were other
ways than petty crime to use her prodigious gifts. She had been given a mental image of Vincent
from Raul, and after running into Carlin at the festival she gained a flash of
Vincent’s face from his mind before the technowizard went unconscious. Feigning concern for the man, she helped to
carry him back to his hotel room with his friends so that she could learn more
about this cyberknight she had been sent to find.
Much to Clover
and Eve’s surprise, they struck up both a conversation and a friendship
quickly. They talked long through the
night as they kept watch over Carlin, who was sleeping off his stupor in Eve’s
bed. In the morning, Eve invited Clover
down to meet the rest of her party.
Vincent joined them, though he was immediately suspicious of the
newcomer, especially of how easily the rest of his friends had warmed to her
and were including her in very detailed and guarded conversations. He chose to remain silent about his mission
for the time being, allowing Eve to take lead on trying to finish the business
that had brought her West. She would not
provide exact details, but did say that she was carrying something which she
needed to get to an agent of the black market.
The problem was that the black market was not the kind of organization
that simply put up signs and waited for people to come calling. Max and Ivan were both employed the
organization, but their boss operated out of Hope and they had no way of
contacting him. Eve and the party
determined that they could solve several issues at once if they played their
cards right.
Local Politics
Without solid intel on who they
should, or should not, be talking to the group was headed nowhere fast. In order to get a better idea they decided
they would need to talk to a few people.
First, they would speak with the sheriff, and then try and locate the
Ranger Seth had told them about. While
Vincent went to the sheriff to try and make sense of what was going on, Max and
a few others headed back to Jaco’s to get the group’s gear repaired. It wasn’t cheap, but it was a damn sight less
expensive than purchasing new equipment (a fact Max discovered after his armor
had been rendered unsalvageable after the ambush in the mine). Vincent did manage to speak with the sheriff
after an exasperating discussion with one of his deputies. Wyatt Harper was less than forthcoming,
though he did give Vincent a bit of information to go on. The Mitchells had been moving quickly to
consolidate control over local businesses after a local “person of interest”
had been assassinated. Harper would not
outright say it was the Mitchells or if it was the Mitchells, or the man killed,
that represented the black market in Wilmington. Vincent’s inquiry, while sincere given the
risk that obviously faced the group, set the terse sheriff into an intransigent
mood. He made no small point of ensuring
that Vincent knew that any interference on his part, or the party’s, in the
local matters of Wilmington’s law enforcement would be met with swift and
violent action.
Annoyed that yet another law
enforcement official seemed incapable or unwilling to assist him, despite the
reputation of his order, Vincent regrouped with his comrades and headed across
town to the address Harper had told him he would find the local Justice
Rangers. It was an old two story
pre-Apocalypse repair shop, and the Rangers had their local HQ on the top
floor. The Rangers were the law outside
of Wilmington, and Harper only tolerated their presence inside the walls as
long as they kept their nose out of his affairs. Vincent wasn’t sure if they would be able to
give him more information than he had already gleaned, but it certainly couldn’t
hurt to try. A tall, broad man with a
sun weathered face threw open the door and stared at the party. Vincent and Carlin quickly explained that
they had been sent to see Jericho by Seth, providing the old man’s badge as
proof of their sincerity. After running
his fingers over the worn piece of copper, the Ranger waved them inside and
introduced himself as Jericho. Several
other Rangers were bustling in and out of room, poring over maps, or
maintaining their equipment. Few took
much notice of the group as they sat down on a series of old sofas in the main
room to talk; they had an air of professionalism and severity that the local
deputies lacked.
Jericho turned out to be much more
helpful than the group could have anticipated; he had known Seth for years, and
trusted the old man’s judgment. He wasn’t
able to tell the group EVERYTHING they wanted to know, but filled in several
important details. The black market
contact in Wilmington had indeed been the man who was killed just a few short
weeks before the player’s arrival in town.
His name was Roland, and he had lived in a prefabricated dwelling set
against the wall on the west side of town.
For some reason Jericho could not determine, Harper had maintained a
constant guard on the building after Roland was found dead. He also informed the players that Mitchell
had always had an eye on taking over the local crime market, and was likely
moving to capitalize on the current vacuum before the black market sent its
people to find out why Roland had gone silent.
If they could control the city before the market’s forces arrived it
would, ostensibly, make retaking the city too costly. The Mitchells could either force the black
market into a partnership with them, or run the entire underside of Wilmington
themselves. Jericho warned them not to
underestimate the Mitchells, as this was their shot at making it big and they
were playing for keeps. The group
thanked Jericho before returning to Callaghan’s to discuss their next move. On the way out the door Jericho informed
Vincent of a local mage who might be able to help him make contact with his
superiors.
Inside, Outside, All Around
Everyone decided, in very short
order, that they needed to try and get a look inside Roland’s home. The most likely place to find a contact point
for the black market was there. Eve
needed them for her package, and the money that she planned to make her new
life with; Ivan and Max needed to report what was happening in Wilmington
before the Mitchells dug in too deep for the market to dislodge them without
open war in the streets. With the help
of their new friend, who fortunately brought impressive powers and a background in burglary to the
table, they decided to gain entry to the house that night. Clover, Eve, and Max would break in and try
and find anything of use while Carlin, Vincent, and Ivan kept watch or ran
interference. Vincent expressed quiet
discomfort at how quickly his partners took to trusting this strange woman, but
decided to go along with things for now.
The mage he needed to speak with had not been home on an earlier stop
while returning from Jericho’s, and the threat to the public posed by the
Mitchells and their quest for power was not something he could sit idly by and
watch despite the importance of his current quest. Just after dark the group split into their
respective teams and made their way to Roland’s.
It was another two story building,
this one a prefabricated assembly surrounded by a low five foot wall. The main entrance was guarded by two
deputies, obviously bored and trying to keep their spirits up with a game of
cards. It would be easy enough to get by
them, but Roland’s home was also directly beneath one of the guard towers. And while the guards inside were more focused
on what was happening outside of the
walls, it was not beyond reason that they would occasionally look back into the
city. With their friends looking on the
trio of would-be burglars slipped over the wall and up to the back door of the
empty house. It took some time for
Clover to finally get the door unlocked, but soon they were inside. The house had been turned upside down, as if someone
had desperately been searching for something.
Nothing was readily apparent in their search of the first floor, so as carefully
as they could the group made their way upstairs. Accident turned into good fortune as Max,
tripping in the dark, came down heavily on one of the stairs and noted the
oddly hollow sound where his foot landed halfway up the stairs. Something was under the staircase, but the
three could not find a way to open it no matter how hard they tried. They pulled back out of the house, and as
soon as it was safe Vincent entered the astral plane and entered the dark building. It took little time for him to find the
vertical shaft leading from the middle of the staircase downwards into some
sort of large chamber, which itself was connected to a tunnel which ran off
west underneath the city wall.
Convinced that the tunnel must exit
at an old, half destroyed gas station in the ruins west of the city, the group
took the rest of the night to recuperate.
Leaving the town in the middle of the night would be suspicious, and
they were already being watched (though whether it was the Mitchells or the
sheriff was anyone’s guess). After
daybreak they formed a convoy and rolled out into the wastes surrounding
Wilmington. After several back tracks
and false turns, Eve and Clover quickly concealed the tracks off their vehicles
in an effort to buy them time before their trackers found them. They rounded the west side of the city,
navigated through the maze of crumbled concrete, and parked their vehicles well
out of the view of the city’s towers.
Ivan, Carlin, and Vincent stayed with the vehicles in order to fortify
their position if they were discovered while Eve, Clover, and Max found the
tunnel and gained access to Roland’s secret storeroom. The old gas station’s last remaining wall
blocked the view of the closest guard tower, which was likely the reason that
Roland chose this location to tunnel to.
There were two grates blocking old undercarriage trenches the mechanics
used to work on vehicles, either could lead to the storeroom. Eve, cautious after their last experiences in
an abandoned gas station, checked for booby-traps and found that both grates were wired. Only one was wired to blow, the other had
been wired to trigger a remote alarm.
Eve dismantled them both and stored their components, including the
explosives, for later use.
The trio found that the tunnel
leading to Roland’s storeroom was well constructed, though cramped. Small steel tracks on the floor led them to
the central storage room to which the vertical tunnel from the staircase above
connected. A push cart, still laden with
ammunition boxes, sat at the end of the tracks in the center of the room. On one wall a long, low desk with tools and a
computer sat. Two pistols and a rifle
lay beside the computer, and while Max and Clover began work on the computer
Eve threw the weapons onto the cart and began to pick through the assorted
crates stashed in the room for anything they could sell in a hurry. Clover, having used her psychic powers to
meld with the artificial intelligence of the computer, finally found actionable
intelligence. Roland’s contact lists for
the city, a contact for his superior in the Barony of Hope, detailed profiles
of the Mitchell’s crew and operations, and even proof of a vote rigging scandal
which implicated the current sheriff.
Satisfied that they had found what they needed, and had gotten the most
of what they could of the stored goods in the short time they had available,
they headed back up the tunnel.
Once on the surface they carefully
picked their way back through the wreckage to their vehicles, arriving just as
another convoy of vehicles came to a halt barely a hundred meters from them
after rounding a tall pile of cinderblocks and detritus. Two men climbed out of each vehicle, all armed
and with grim expressions on their faces.
Max instantly recognized the gaunt, hairless man from the fair the other
night. He recognized Max too, and with a
menacing grin pointed straight at him with the point of his knife.
To Be Continued…
GM
NOTES (SPOILER ALERT)
1.
We got a LOT of shit done without having to
worry about combat. I am continually
amazed at just how much, both in terms of content and fun, can be done when you’re
not exhausting your mind trying to keep a lasso on the pack of wild horses that
is Rifts combat. What’s more, the
players themselves actively avoided combat (!!!). Whether this was intentional, or simply because
they did not want to deal with combat any more than I did after the last three
sessions, remains to be seen. Regardless
of their motivations, I felt like rewarding them and gave them a bit more
latitude with Harper than I initially intended.
He WAS going to be an asshole to them, now he’s just suspicious.
2.
I get the impression that Vincent’s player does
not think I give him the appropriate reaction from NPC’s who “should” be
looking favorably on someone of his profession (i.e. paladin). This is true to a certain extent, and is
something I have been working to try and correct. Rifts is, by its very nature, a morally
ambiguous game. PA settings tend not to
lend themselves to “black and white”, “good and evil” scenarios and
reactions. I will say this: If anyone
BUT Vincent had spoken to Seth, Harper, or Jericho the reaction would have been
even LESS favorable. It’s hard to
communicate that to players though, they only get to see what DID happen. They never get to see the myriad of
possibilities inside your head when you are the GM.
3.
The group took to trusting Clover a bit too
quickly in my opinion. The one guy who
played out his mistrust of her was playing the one character in the group MOST
likely to welcome people with open arms (the cyberknight); the “paranoid and
hardened mercenaries” just kind of shrugged and brought her right into the
fold. This is a recurrent problem in a
lot of PnP games, especially one with a high character death rate. It sometimes gets very hard difficult to
remember that the character in the game is new, even if the person playing it
is someone you’ve been playing with from day one of a campaign. I might try to see if I can work this angle
into the game, maybe through Clover’s psychic powers?
4.
Jaco does NOT sound like Jar Jar Binks. Don’t let my players tell you any
differently!