Start here! Links lurk below like eldritch horrors of the deep...

If you're NOT reading this because you are a member of one of my campaigns then you have made a terrible mistake coming here and I encourage you to re-evaluate the choices you have made in life that brought about such pitiable circumstances.  If you ARE one of my players, then you know why you're here and you deserve everything you get.

Campaigns links are below.

1. Rifts

2. Veterans of the SIEGE: Birthright

3. Veterans of the SIEGE: 40K

4. Gaming Calendar

May the dice ever roll in your favor!

Rifts Campaign Directory

Rifts Campaign - Dramatis Personae

Rifts Campaign - Session 1

Rifts Campaign - Session 2

Rifts Campaign - Session 3

Rifts Campaign - Session 4

Rifts Campaign - Session 5

Rifts Campaign - In Memoriam

Rifts Campaign - In Memoriam(?)

     Red sky in morning, gamers take warning.  It is done.  The Rifts campaign had to end at some point, though I was hoping I could see it through until we arrived in the Colorado Baronies properly.  Due to personal circumstances with two players, and my new job with a different organization, our break between sessions grew to several months.  Eventually these two players, for perfectly justifiable reasons, had to withdraw from our gaming group entirely.  As this brought our total player count down from 6 to 4, I broached the subject of moving on to a separate game/system in light of my discontentment with the Palladium system and the difficulties we would face as a group adjusting to the loss of a third of our characters.  The remaining group reached a consensus in favor of this option, though one person was firmly in support of marching on (the guy with the cyborg, go figure...).  While I have not given up on the campaign or characters, I figured we would need a clean break and fresh reboot if we are to continue making the Rifts campaign work.  For now we must bid farewell to the post-apocalypse.

How long can we resist the call of the Wastelands?  Only time will tell...

Rifts Campaign - Session 5

                This was a fun session, even if my players came dangerously close to having over half their members killed during some…tense…negotiations.  There was a good mix of combat vs. roleplaying, in particular a lot of very important in-group politics which had been brewing in the background were finally brought to light.  There may not be full resolution on these issues, but everyone has a relatively good idea of where the other members of the group are coming from, and have figured out a way to work together.  I actually did not expect the group to take the “third option” I had afforded them, it caught me a bit by surprise and I had to roll with the punches at the end of the session to fill in the gaps on the one real option I had considered (but failed to do any prep work to address if they chose it).  Oh, and the combat this session went MUCH better; it’s not going to change my mind about finding an alternative system, but it certainly was not as frustrating this session.  Max’s player was gone again so I had to do a bit of stand-in roleplaying, but such is life when you have an adult group of gamers with real lives to attend to.

Session 5: I’ll Take What’s Behind Door Number Three!

Mercy for the Merciless

                As the party stared across the strewn rubble separating them from the convoy of Mitchell’s goons, a quiet settled onto the broken ruins of old Wilmington.  An armored SUV, two ATV’s, and a motorcycle comprised the convoy which had pulled up a hundred meters west of the player’s current position on an old road.  Though the numbers were hard to make out, it was obvious that the thugs had come prepared for a fight.  No one answered when the sallow, bald leader of the Mitchell’s crew told them to drop their weapons and get their hands up.  The quiet was finally broken when Max suddenly dropped the handle of the loot box he had helped to carry up from Roland’s storeroom and dove for cover behind a burnt out car in the middle of the road.  Eve and Clover quickly followed suit, and Carlin worked his way into a covered position to overwatch the party behind the car as Ivan and Vincent started to work their way into flanking positions on the north and south side of the road.  The goons spread out; the party could see five but heard more noise coming from the area around the SUV.

                Shots started to ring out and it became apparent that the thugs were focusing their attention on the group behind the car and had not yet realized that Vincent, Ivan, and Carlin had been nearby waiting for their friends.  This change when Ivan, looking to protect his exposed comrades, stormed his massive cybernetic frame into the ruined shell of a two story brick building on the north side of the roads.  The bandits heard him moving, and one of them called out Ivan’s location and told his compatriots to “load up the HE”, they had come prepared to fight the cyborg.  Vincent chose to maintain his cover and stealthily crept into a burnt out house on the south side of the road next door to another house he had seen two of the thugs run to.  Max, igniting his pyrokinesis, began to lob flaming orbs of psychic energy at the bandits north of the road as Eve tried to lay down sufficient cover fire for Clover to dash from the car to the house that Vincent had crept into.  Carlin, hoping to provide his isolated comrades some cover, threw a technowizard device containing a force field down next to the car.  A blue, shimmering dome fell over the vehicle as the little machine clicked and whirred. 

                When Ivan finally made his way across the rubble inside the building on the north side of the road to a window where he could get a clear view of the last place he had seen the thugs move to, a troubling sight greeted him: the barrel of a mini-missile launcher leveled directly at him across the alley separating his position from the bandits.  The explosion staggered him back and blew out the wall around him, further exposing him to rifle fire from the thug’s partner.  Ivan was able to regain his footing, and while the return fire from his plasma rifle didn’t kill the man it took the grenadier off his feet for the remainder of the round.  Eve, hoping to keep the grenadier from targeting their position, quickly yelled at Max to ignite a row of thick bushes which had sprung from the broken concrete between their cover and the building the grenadier had engaged Ivan from.  Carlin, lacking exposed targets, maintained his watch in the hopes that one of the goons would reveal himself.  Meanwhile, Clover had made it across the road and joined Vincent just as the cyberknight peeked around a corner to try and find a clear path into the adjacent building.  The rifle blast from the thug missed him by inches, the grim mercenary had been smart enough to make sure their flank was covered against any surprises the characters might try and drop on them.

                The one surprise the man was not counting on was Clover, and as she whipped around the corner and flung her hands forward the man dropped his rifle from unresponsive hands and fell to the ground in a contorted position.  Clover had psychically turned his own nervous system against him, paralyzing his muscles and rendering him powerless.  Vincent used this chance to close the distance between himself and the paralyzed man, disarming him in case he succeeded in breaking free of Clover’s power.  At this point Eve, Carlin, and Vincent all saw, much to their dismay, yet another goon affixing a light machine gun to the turret of the armored SUV and preparing to fire.  Carlin, finally seizing the opportunity to engage an opponent, attempted unsuccessfully to snipe the gunner out from behind his weapon.  Ivan tried to rejoin the group upon word of the automatic weapons gunner, but was stopped short when a shadow fell over him.  The bald man, revealed to be a psi-stalker, had used the chaos of the firefight to mask his flanking maneuver to the north side of the building Ivan had taken position in.  Jumping from the wall above him, the psi-stalker destroyed Ivan’s plasma rifle with a single swipe of his vibro-blade as he descended.

                Unable to assist his comrades, and too occupied to let them know he was now engaged with the psi-stalker at close range, Ivan lashed out with his metallic fists.  Unfortunately, the near prescient psychic abilities of the stalker allowed him to dance nimbly around Ivan’s cybernetic strikes with acrobatic grace.  Continual lashes from the hunter’s vibro blade left deep gouges in Ivan’s armor, barely missing joints and vital components by inches.  Back at the car, things had gone from bad to worse.  Distracted by the appearance of the machine gunner, the group failed to see the grenadier with the missile launcher had skirted the flaming bushes and had now taken aim at them.  The explosion destroyed Carlin’s force field, and if Clover had not employed a secondary psychic shield to protect them the outcome might have been exceptionally grim.  Vincent, seeing that Carlin and Eve had targeted the gunner, slipped into the house beside him and found another thug taking aim at his comrades.  A single slash from his psi-sword ended the man’s threat.  Max tried to keep the grenadier from gaining another shot by mentally willing the flames to jump from the bushes beside them onto the actual ruined house the grenadier had taken cover in.  Eve, breaking her aim off of the gunner, snapped a lucky shot off that managed to finish the mortally wounded grenadier as he fled backwards from the flames.

                Vincent climbed back out from the house and sprinted towards the gunner’s SUV; though he was cut short as a burst from the light machinegun cut the motorcycle Vincent had taken cover behind in half.  Vincent’s last second dodge had surely saved him from potentially fatal damage.  Carlin, unwilling to chance too many shots at the gunner since his friends behind the car were almost directly in his line of sight, tried to gain a better position to engage the man while Clover lashed out again with her psychic powers to paralyze the gunner before he could bring his weapon to bear.  Luckily, his resistance to psychic attack was minimal and he collapsed down limply into the turret.  Ivan, realizing that even HE would require assistance to overcome the stalker, threw himself bodily through the wall between himself and the position Eve and Max had taken behind the car.  Suddenly exposed to multiple opponents, and realizing how poorly things had fared for his crew, the psi-stalker cursed and took off at a sprint through the ruins in an attempt to escape the party.  The last remaining merc quickly followed suit, though well placed shots from Eve, Max, and Carlin made his hopes for escape short lived.  Ivan took off immediately in pursuit alone, his anger at the stalker’s attack overcoming his common sense.  Vincent disarmed the gunner in the turret and, after seeing the stalker vanish over a rubble pile with Ivan in hot pursuit, followed the cyborg in an attempt to protect his comrade.

                The group back at the car took a breath, but before they could rest too easy they suddenly remembered that the grenadier’s missile launcher had been in the building at the epicenter of Max’s psychic inferno.  Max extinguished the flames; and none too soon!  Another round and the remaining missiles might have detonated and destroyed everything within a block.  Carlin teleported into the driver’s seat of his car and pulled the vehicle around to help give chase to the stalker while Max and Clover took stock of the situation and collected the defeated goon’s weapons.  Eve knew she could not keep up with Ivan and Vincent in their pursuit and instead had used this lull in the fighting to silently stalk over and slit the throats of the two paralyzed bandits.  Her growing affection for Ivan had clouded her judgment and thrown her into a dark rage when she saw him in danger, and she had chosen to ensure those responsible would never threaten another person again.  Ivan had finally crested the large rubble pile the stalker had vanished over, but was startled to find that the man had vanished.  A quick scan using his enhanced vision helped Ivan pinpoint the psychic’s location, just as he popped out and threw a bolo which tangled itself around Ivan’s legs.  The metallic titan crashed loudly into the wreckage beneath him.  The stalker might have used this opportunity to close with Ivan or affect his escape if Vincent had not appeared.  The stalker drew his vibro-blade and summoned Vincent forward, and the two squared off grimly as Ivan pulled the bolo wires off his legs.

                Vincent, following his strict code, offered the psi-stalker a single chance to surrender and survive unharmed.  Surprisingly, the psychic mercenary saw the hopelessness of his situation and threw his sword at Vincent’s feet.  The remainder of the group, arriving in Carlin’s car, surrounded the psi-stalker.  A tense moment of silence was broken by the stalker asking, bluntly, what he needed to do to walk away alive.  Clover was insistent that he drop his psychic defenses and allow her to scan his mind, but the stalker refused to do so.  He would no sooner drop his mental defense against a psychic than take off his body armor for a man pointing a gun at his chest.  Clover might have tried to kill him then and there if Vincent had not stepped forward to protect the man.  He had given his word to allow their foe to walk away unharmed, but they needed information first.  If the stalker would not provide it, Vincent could not guarantee that his comrades would honor Vincent’s word despite his protestations.  The stalker acquiesced, telling them as much as he knew about the Mitchell’s operations.  He confirmed that they had assassinated Roland, and were attempting to gain control of the criminal market in Wilmington.  Mitchell suspected that the group were agents of the black market who had come to investigate Roland’s death, and so had sent the stalker and his men out into the wastes to track the party and regain anything they might have recovered from Roland’s home (he had guessed rightly that the party had found the secret storeroom that Harper had been searching for).  

                Though the stalker continued to refuse to allow Clover to psychically scan him and confirm that he was telling the truth, Vincent decided that the man had kept up his end of the bargain.  Despite a few warnings and protestations from the group he allowed the man to make a hasty retreat towards the wood line in the distance, warning him that if he returned to Wilmington or that if they ever saw him again they would finish the day’s business.  Eve struggled not to put a round through the fleeing man's back as he fled, but overcame her desire for vengeance.  The group took stock of their situation, regrouped, and began to salvage what they could of the armor and weapons back at the firefight.  Vincent, horrified at the revelation that Eve had killed the two thugs as they lay paralyzed, left alone for Wilmington without a word to any of his party member’s.  Only Carlin saw him mount his robotic steed and ride off, and quickly followed in his car in an attempt to find out what had troubled his friend so deeply.  The rest of the party, realizing that they needed make their way after the pair, threw the salvaged gear into the SUV and took it and the two ATV’s back to town.

We Need to Talk

                Back at Calaghan’s Vincent pulled Carlin aside and insisted that he would have nothing more to do with the Eve, Max, and Ivan.  They lacked restraint and morality; and while Vincent would not attack the three for their actions, he certainly did not have to sit by and accept them.  He insisted that they part ways with them and their new “friend” Clover, and told them all as much when they arrived back at the garage.  It was a tense and emotionally charged exchanged, Carlin tried to reason Vincent out of his insistence.  It wasn’t until Eve explained that she had killed the men in rage over Ivan’s close brush with death as she had begun to have deep feelings for him (a fact which Vincent did not feel justified what HE considered murder), and Clover’s revelation that she had been sent to Wilmington by a veteran member of Vincent’s order, that the defiant cyberknight agreed not to break away from his recent comrades.  He made it abundantly clear that he would not tolerate any more incidents like those out in the ruins, and that if he saw them again he would take action to prevent them or punish those responsible.  Though he was far from content, Vincent realized he still needed help in accomplishing his goal.  A big problem remained though: the Mitchells.  

                The party all agreed that a frontal assault on the Mitchell’s compound was suicide, and that the numbers the corrupt family brought to bear would certainly mean that in due time they would be cut down.  The recent dust up in the ruins would only exacerbate the issue and make confrontation inevitable if something was not done.  Eve, Max, and Ivan privately consulted and agreed that, as Ivan and Max were contracted by the black market, they would attempt to act on the market’s behalf and negotiate a settlement over the control of Wilmington.  It was a gamble, but their hope was that they could bluff their way into a cease fire and buy themselves time to figure out their next move.  While Vincent kept watch over his mysterious box, the rest of the group made their way across town to the Mitchell’s compound.  It was essentially a fortified city block, with the Mitchell’s entire weapons manufacturing and storefront operations, a bar, whorehouse, and accommodations for his workers and thugs all centrally located.  A metal gate dimly lit by fluorescent lights closed the compound off from the rest of Wilmington.

                Announcing their intention to parlay to the gate guard, the party was ushered inside the front courtyard and quickly surrounded by over a dozen heavily armed men.  They frisked the players for weapons, easily finding the two which Clover and Eve had attempted to secret away on their persons, before rigidly escorting the party into a large storage warehouse.  Surrounded by half a dozen mercenaries on second story catwalks, the group found Mitchell staring at them darkly from within a fortified office inside the warehouse which the local crime lord had built as a safehouse in case of an attack on his compound.  The group would never be able to force their in before the mercenaries on the catwalk, and outside, cut them down.  The inherent danger of their plan began to dawn on the players, and a nervous sense of foreboding crept in.  Mitchell, cagey enough to suspect that there was a reason that the players had seemingly walked into his hands, told the group to explain themselves and to make it fast.  He was not in a mood to play games.

                Ivan took lead and tried to convince Mitchell that none of this had been personal, and that it had been a mistake to get his sons arrested after their assault at Jaco’s.  Mitchell scoffed, and asserted that it was hard NOT to take it personally when your children are thrown in jail because some asshole decided to shove his nose where it didn’t belong.  He demanded to know if the group were here on behalf of the black market, and Ivan (much to Carlin’s shock) revealed that he and Max WERE members of the shadowy criminal organization.  Ivan quickly clarified that they were low-level contractors, but promised that if Mitchell called off his men that he and Max would vouch for Mitchell to their employers.  Unfortunately, the ambitious mobster had no interest in negotiating with someone lacking authority within the black market.  He gave the group one option; and one option only.  He knew they had found Roland’s leverage on Harper, they had 48 hours to give it to him and leave Wilmington or they would all die.  Furthermore, they would leave all the vehicles and equipment they had salvaged from the firefight in the garage at Calaghan’s and make sure people saw them leaving town with their tail between their legs.  Mitchell had a reputation to uphold, and the player’s had seriously undermined it through their actions.  Without waiting for a response he shut off his bunker’s comms and walked away as the guards ushered the group back out the front gate at gunpoint.

The Better Part of Valor

                Back with Vincent the party, dejected at the failure of their negotiations, talked about options.  The general consensus was that the situation had spiraled beyond their control, and they needed to put an end to this whole affair in a hurry.  Carlin forwarded the notion that they just get out entirely, leave Wilmington that night, and never look back.  It was a plan the group favored, though the question of what to do with their information on Harper still plagued them.  Vincent struck upon an idea, one which the rest of the party supported fully.  They would give the incriminating evidence to Jericho, the Justice Ranger who ran the local detachment enforcing the law outside of Wilmington.  Eve, knowing that the party was almost certainly being watched by Mitchell’s agents, offered to disguise Vincent so he could reach Jericho unnoticed.  She passed her roll, and the ugliest hooker to ever grace the floor of Calaghan’s stepped out onto the street with the precious data tucked inside his bra.  Within moments Vincent had arrived at Jericho’s, and hastily explained the reason for his disguise and the need for he and his companions to make an impromptu escape from Wilmington.  Jericho offered his thanks, and ensured that he would use the information to put Harper on the right path towards cleaning up Wilmington.  He pulled a map off the wall of his office detailing several safe houses which the Rangers used between Wilmington and Hope and wished Vincent luck.

                Once back at Calaghan’s, the party made their final preparations in the relative seclusion of the garage.  Packed, stocked, and reloaded they were ready to leave.  There was still one issue, however, that was bothering Vincent.  What was going to happen to Jaco once they left?  Surely Mitchell would target the poor D-Bee, either out of spite or to make a point about colluding with strangers.  Vincent felt they owed the creature since they had gotten him into this mess, Max liked the idea of having someone around who could repair weapons and armor, and Carlin was opposed to wasting time and resources on a “fifth wheel” when the journey to Hope from Wilmington was long and dangerous by any route.  Ultimately, Max and Vincent chose to offer Jaco the chance to join their escape.  The convoy departed Calaghan’s, arrived at Jaco’s shop, and presented Jaco with his choices.  He quickly accepted, and spent a few moments hastily throwing his most important tools and savings into a backpack before climbing into the SUV which Max was driving.  As the convoy pulled up to the front gate a single guard stepped out in front of them and told them they would have to wait until morning to leave.  The sight of Ivan leveling his new toy, the gunner’s light machinegun from their engagement in the ruins, convinced the underpaid deputy that impeding their progress was not the wisest choice.  As the party accelerated out into the darkened wastes, a trail of headlights appeared behind them.  The Mitchell’s agents had informed them of the group’s attempt to escape, and they had no intention of just letting the party roll away…

GM NOTES (SPOILERS)

1.       I really did not expect the group to simply walk away from Wilmington.  They all had valid reasons to do so, even Vincent with his rigid code of honor, so it WAS a viable option.  I’m actually quite pleased that they chose to try a nonviolent approach, despite the amount of time I had spent planning out possible ways a final confrontation with the Mitchell’s would play out.  I actually thought they would use the information on Harper to get the sheriff onboard for a final confrontation or assault on the Mitchell’s compound.  I guess they showed me something about outside-the-box play.

2.       There was a lot of in-group tension building between Vincent/Vincent’s player and the rest of the party.  I’ve said before how this is an unfortunate trend in most games where the cleric/paladin/do-gooder is concerned.  The voice of morality is easily criticized, and it can make a player feel marginalized and punished just for roleplaying their character appropriately.  None of the other players were INTENTIONALLY targeting him, but in playing THEIR characters true to form such reactions were inevitable.  It’s usually my job to play the intermediary and keep this sort of shit to a minimum, but the group did an admirable job working some of this tension out.  It’s hard to RP some things, but they did a good job in a very short amount of time, and it helped keep the group from fracturing at a time of crisis.

3.       I have never come closer to killing so many of my players at once as I did during this session.  Walking into their enemy’s sanctum, announcing their affiliation with the organization that enemy is opposed to, and then trying to bargain despite admitting that they had no real authority was a sore test of my restraint.  I can honestly say that if not for the fact that the party had something Mitchell wanted, the information on Harper, I would have killed them all on principle.  Even now I feel that I was actually too lenient, and wonder if the group still sincerely believes that there will be repercussion for poorly thought out plans.

4.       I actually planned for the psi-stalker to be VINCENT’S opponent in the opening combat engagement, not Ivan’s.  I know that Vincent’s player had been feeling a bit bummed about how the rest of the group was treating him, and had planned to try and reinvigorate him with a little specialized combat encounter suited to his combat build.  I thought I had done a good job setting it up but, after I intentionally said that the psi-stalker was likely headed north, and Vincent chose to advance down the south side of the road, it was out of my hands to some degree.  It made for a good reminder that even walking tanks like Ivan can encounter things capable of harming them, but was not exactly what I wanted.

5.       Clover held out for a loooooong time about why she was affiliating herself with the group.  This partly stemmed from a miscommunication on my part about why she had been sent to find them.  Once I clarified exactly who had sent her, and why, it made her forthcoming to Vincent at a critical juncture of the group’s internal integrity.  I need to make sure people have a firm grasp of the way I am trying to get them involved in the group in a believable way.  This almost backfired on me.

Rifts Campaign - Session 4

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!