Note: A few years back I wrote a book. It is set in the fictional universe of Shadowrun. I've decided to post it in weekly increments here on my blog thanks in part to where I'm at in life and because the fun game Shadowrun Returns was recently released by Harebrained Schemes. It re-stoked my passion for the game and I wanted to share that passion with you. Thanks so much and enjoy:
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Introduction
The
chair’s back was high, obscuring any view of their employer. A single carpet
stretched from his desk to the simple double doors. While two large potted
plants set on either side of the door, acting as awkward sentries to this
inorganic environment. This large open room, served as his office, an ominous
cavern that only increased the uneasiness of the situation. Four chairs had
been placed in front of the desk, but only three of them were occupied. They
seemed small and out of place, compared to the room. A sizeable portrait hung
over the double doors, to add to the animosity of the room. Its very life was
Spartan. Cold and unfeeling just like its master. The same master that sat at
the head of the room, disguised by his large black chair, staring out a massive
set of windows. Two inarticulate statues of trolls flanked his either side.
Patiently standing in the corners, like the plants near the doors, silently
guarding the emptiness of the room.
The
chair slowly turned to face the room’s new occupants, his employees. Easing
back into his chair, sat Requiem. He was of course all business with them, but
they could sense something else behind his delicate exterior. His soft elvish
features, barely managed to hide his dead insides.
Looking
at him, he gave the illusion of being a tall, thin businessman. Using hired
muscle as his protection and for physical persuasion. This would only be partly
right. A remorseless and ruthless air seemed inherent in him, by his career it
would be plausible, but simple businessman? Does such a thing even really exist
anymore? It would be a mistake that would lead anyone to death that judge by
appearance alone.
Requiem’s
eyes held darkness inside them, despite the crystal blue. His appearance did
nothing to abate the feeling of ice. His face was weathered from years of
experience in the field, and his gaze was calculating. His clothes were fluid
like his movements, and a myriad of dark colors. He wore an elegant dress robe
that flowed with him. Everything about him screamed his namesake.
He
sat quietly studying the assembled “Shadowrunners”. Slowly he leaned forward,
resting his elbows on the desk. His hands clasped with his slender index
fingers and thumbs touching. His eyes shifted from person to person. Carefully
taking each of them in, observing their reactions and emotions.
The
three employees that sat, stared blankly around the room, their thoughts held
elsewhere. If Requiem had not known where to look for the fourth, Falchion
would be lost to the dimly lit corner. The far right corner, by the doors,
Requiem held his gaze on Falchion longer than the others. The youngest of the
quartet, but he was by far the most dangerous and professional.
Falchion’s
gaze met Requiem’s with fierce concentration, and understanding of equality
despite their age difference. His stance was relaxed but ever prepared to move
at a moment’s notice. His soft brown locks draped loosely to his chin, his eyes
as mysterious as they were dark. His features soft and delicate; untouched by
the hardships he had seen. His arms folded defiantly, but relaxed across his
chest. His body a pinnacle of physical excellence; muscled, yet lean and lithe.
His sculpted form was decorated by a variety, of belts, harnesses, pouches,
copious amounts of blades, and oddly jewelry. He looked as though he was ready
for any physical challenge that could face him. Requiem removed his gaze from
Falchion to examine closely each member of this group. Each of them intrigued him,
in their own manner.
To
his right sat Mr. Popular. He was a small time boss for the Yakuza, running
various illegal operations out the back of a ‘legit’ business. The aptly named,
he thought sarcastically, Golden Panda. Despite his posture while sitting, Mr.
Popular held an air of authority and arrogance, even in the presence of someone
who had hired his services. He was slouched, his left arm flung over the back
of the chair, with his thoughts were distance. Requiem thought this Yakuza boss
had a relaxed style. Perhaps a little too relaxed. Popular’s sleeked black
hair, two stylized strands of hair gracing the front of his face, with a small
pony tail adorning the back of his head, and a thin scar gracing his left
cheek, gave his face an almost vid-star quality. Expensive sunglasses hung from
a breast pocket on his business jacket. An un-tucked ivory shirt, unbuttoned at
the top. Covered by an unbuttoned black business jacket, pressed black dress
pants, and polished dress shoes finished his outfit ensemble. This gave Mr.
Popular a disheveled, but oddly profession able appearance. Requiem took note of
a noticeable sidearm, harnessed to his shoulder, flaunting his superiority to
the lesser street filth. Not that he needed it with the man carefully placed to
his Mr. Popular’s right.
In
the middle sat, Shikkon Shin, a notable member of the Yakuza, was all the
protection Mr. Popular would need. Shikkon played the strong silent type to a
tea. His wavy, but cropped black hair, and chiseled facial features were a
stark contrast from the rest of the group. He wore a bulky armored business
suit, to give the illusion of professional etiquette, but the mirage concealed
a bulky and deadly weapon. His dress style was very similar to Mr. Popular
except he wore a tie, adding to his business and stoic demeanor. Requiem
noticed a couple of extra bulges on Shikkon, hinting at weapons. Everything
about Shikkon whispered chromed, he was mechanical, but smooth, and his bulk
seemed unnatural.
Shikkon
idly stared at the ground, as if humbly awaiting his superior’s every whim. His
posture was rigid in his chair. Every muscle seemed tense, despite hidden under
layers of cloth. He seemed to defy every stereotype about elves available, save
maybe his ears. He easily outweighed his teammates, and while sitting he seemed
to be fifteen centimeters over the others.
His eyes were dark like Mr. Popular’s but intense instead of carefree.
He seemed uncomfortable in this business setting, and shifted silently in his
chair, waiting for the next move.
Lastly
Requiem’s eyes fell on Entertainment, the strangest looking of the group. She
was flamboyant and bright. A stark contrast to the subdued colors and stealth
the others wore. She appeared as though a character out of some 20th
century film, or someone’s imagination.
Entertainment
sat loosely in her chair, but was carefully positioned so she remained in a
polite form. Requiem noticed a small pistol holstered to the side of her right
leg. It was a weapon for show, and flash, rather than actual uses. Although in
the right hands, anything could be put to deadly use. Her lavender wig draped
down the sides of her aged, but cherubic face. The wig’s bangs uniform across
her slightly winkled brow, hiding any sign of her natural short dirty blond
hair. She wore a tight purple and white polka dot dress, which accentuated her
athletic and curvy body. It was Falchion, who had recruited her, and it seemed
as though she hoped that his interest in her was possibly more than just
business.
Falchion
stood in the corner of the room, watching and waiting. Requiem worried him to
no end, his every move seemed calculated, it was on the verge of inhuman. To
make matters worse that drek run had not gone over smoothly. The group hadn’t
talked to one another before the meeting about the run. It seemed that the
others didn’t know what had happened and that could work in their favor. If
they were smart enough, they would not mention the test run, but let Requiem
assume. At least that’s what Falchion was hoping for, as a best case scenario.
Three
weeks ago Falchion had been contacted by Requiem for a possible run. They had
met, in a small rundown restaurant, and discussed the finer details of work. It
was a simple enough run to do, and Requiem had hinted at further work beyond
this one. Seeing this as an opportunity to further himself, he felt torn: On
one end he wanted to get a team together, to not only help him do the run, but
to possibly form a group. A group of runners had its advantages over being
solo, but also had its disadvantages. On the other hand he wanted to do it
alone, because sometimes the varying personalities conflict and can be too
noisy for the shadows.
Falchion
searched the rest of the week, for possible runners. The first person he found
was an ork decker, named Black Betty. She was interesting, a biker attitude,
and a slightly airy sense. The job didn’t call for a decker, but something
about Betty stuck out for him. She said she wasn’t interested in the current
job, but he thought she could be useful and told her he might have work for her
at a later date. So they parted ways.
He
then found the others, an eclectic group of individuals, but he didn’t expect
any less. He thought that they seemed reliable enough, eager to have some work
come their way, and didn’t ask too many questions about him.
Falchion
thought Entertainment was the most intriguing one. She met with him, through a
mutual contact. At the meeting she wore a peppermint stripped dress with
jet-black hair, which looked too shiny to be natural. She had a flare that was attention
drawing and could easily be used as distraction.
Mr. Popular was an odd combination of
honor, and disrespect for those that were “beneath” him. He too could easily draw
attention to himself, and could be useful for distracting from a more stealthily
element of the group, himself. His mostly silent bodyguard, Shikkon Shin, was
stoic, fluid, and a skilled individual. Falchion saw varying ranges of ability
in their interactions with him, and with Popular and Shikkon.
Falchion
spent the remainder of that second week learning a little more about his fellow
runners. He was amazed at the versatility that a small group of people could
achieve. He had always worked on his own, even during training with his various
instructors. He saw varying individuals and skills, in his mentors, but never
had he put them in the same equation. It was something new and exciting to him.
The
job was a simple in and out. Nothing complicated in their line of work. Granted
Falchion wasn’t a big fan of the type of job, but he had found ways around it
in the past. This time he had been hired to remove a weapons dealer. Falchion
had felt relief when both Mr. Popular and Entertainment had expressed concerns
about the nature of the job. To that end Falchion thought they would be more open
to a different avenue of success. One above the result Requiem not-so-subtly
hinted at during their meeting.
The
reason for the irking was that this simple weapons dealer was causing problems
for Ares. Falchion found this to be odd, considering the immensity of the Ares
Macrotechnologies Corporation. Despite this, he also knew that an insect could
cause irritation for a giant. Falchion ran some information through the system
to see what he could find, and the story became a little clearer.
Their
target it seemed was beginning to become well known, and was getting decently
connected. The target went by the street name of Simon. He had been running a
small business that had been a front for his weapons dealing, and was getting
some heavy notice: No doubt the reason why Ares wanted to squash him.
It
wasn’t enough just to put Simon out of business. They wanted a full sweep.
Research had been done, and Ares had found Simon’s true base of operations. A
small farmhouse on the outer fringes of Seattle
Falchion
stood across, in the rain soaked streets, from The Diamond. The rain always
held a dark gloom over the city, and made it uncomfortable being out for any
extended period of time. Falchion stared at the business, surveying the
building and the surrounding area.
An
overhanging marquee supported a holographic neon sign illuminating the darkness
around it. Giving entering patrons some cover from the rain, and gave some
sense of character. A small line was waiting to be let in despite the weather
it seemed to be a popular place. Although he’d never heard of it.
Falchion
had dressed down for this occasion, from his normal equipped attire. He had
only worn a simple London Fog, and some casual dress clothes. The only things
he had not parted with were a small knife holstered on his hip, and the various
rings and necklace he never took off. It had been a couple of years since he
had donned the jewelry, and he felt naked without them. As it was, he wasn’t
wearing much protection and he felt vulnerable.
Entertainment
had been ushered into The Diamond, about thirty minutes before and had been
told to wait in a small office on the second floor. The inner workings of The
Diamond were a mixture of multiple entertainment venues. The first floor acted
as a buffer to the second floor, but was by no means without its own
attraction.
When
she had entered there had been a small buffer zone to enter the main area of
the first floor. Showing pictures of people enjoying the various thrills of
night life. The lighting was set a dim feeling of being in a theatre. The
hallway shortly opened up into an open room, meeting a bar against the left
wall. It stretched all the way to the back of the room with three bartenders
hurriedly serving drinks. Set at the far end of the bar was an enclosed area
and Entertainment noticed an elf, through the light smoke, jacked into
something.
Music
pulsed through the entire first floor, and as Entertainment made her way through
the small crowd to the middle of the room, she saw that booths and tables
aligned along the back right wall. It brought back memories to her previous
work, and she was glad to be on this assignment. Entertainment ascended the
chrome stairs across the room, and noticed that near the plugged in elf there
seemed to be something of a stage. The stage had been taken over by different
club goers enjoying the hypnotic music.
Entertainment
reached the top of the stairs to find a small platform staring at a plain metal
door, and another bouncer. The bouncer looked Entertainment over, and gave her
a slight nod as he opened the door. She had worn a simple black dress with thin
straps that hugged her body, but flowed with her movements. Her lips held a
light glossy sheen, and the dark eyeliner emphasized the emerald in her eyes,
and gave her a sultry look.
Her
real outfit was neatly and tightly packed into a small handbag carried at her
side. Except the small pistol fastened to her thigh, she was dressed for
pleasure for the meeting tonight. She had only known Falchion for a short
while, but he was cute. Every time they had met, she had a surge of feeling. It
was something long forgotten, something she had thought long dead thanks to her
past.
Her
thoughts sharply returned to the present as she entered the second floor. She
had been ushered in through another set of doors. As she passed through them,
she noticed that the sounds from below had been all but silenced. Here the
lighting was considerably lower, and only randomly would there be a flash of
different colors.
The
setup was similar to downstairs, except more tables and chairs adorned the
middle of the room. A small bar graced the far wall, and Entertainment noticed
the various small stages with poles reaching up to the ceiling. The few patrons
that were sitting took immediate notice of Entertainment, and she of them.
She
noticed that there were a handful of businessmen, and they all appeared to be
Asian. Her face, hardened, and she looked around for her fellow runners.
Entertainment headed straight for the bar in hopes of finding the meeting, and
the others. She could feel the businessmen lusting after her as she crossed the
room. Ignoring them, she stepped up to the bar to find the bartender
reappearing from a backroom.
“Can
I help you?” His English was manageable, even in this day and age some people
still didn’t learn enough of multiple languages. Entertainment saw that the
bartender, like the handful of businessmen staring at her around the room, was
Asian. She also recognized the accent and spoke accordingly in Japanese, “Yes,
I’m supposed to meet with your boss.” Her voice was direct, and the bartender
was slightly taken aback by the near perfection of her tongue.
“Ah,
yes, you must be the women he mentioned,” a nervous look shot through his eyes,
“There is a room in the corner there,” he pointed as he spoke to a simple but
concealed door behind her in the right corner. She gave a slight wave, and was
polite enough as she continued in Japanese, “Thank you.” With her simple
gesture she spun gracefully to her right and move towards the back corner.
To
the businessmen around the room, she fluttered and glided across the room when
she moved. They were VIP guests of The Diamond and had paid top dollar for a show,
yet they had not expected this. They’re tastes were of a different variety, but
they could not help and stare as she moved. For what seemed an endless journey
from the bar to the corner, she had mesmerized them. With the silent slide of
the door, she vanished into the darkness that was waiting beyond. “Only the
Yakuza..” she muttered under her breath.
When
Falchion entered the small room, he found Shikkon sitting on the arm of a
couch, Mr. Popular sitting on the couch his right leg propped up on the knee of
his left. Falchion had to keep from laughing at him. His posture seemed very
pompous. The both of them were dressed in business suits, Popular’s relaxed,
Shikkon’s more professional looking.
He
glanced to his left and saw Entertainment sitting in a small chair talking with
the others. He felt his mouth open a little at the sight of her. He had always
taken note of her figure, and her outfits. This seemed a little out of place.
He quickly shook his thoughts off, as she turned to look at him. The
conversation had trailed off, as the three looked over at Falchion entering the
room.
“My
apologies, I was held up, by something urgent,” he paused only for a moment
thinking his voice trailing slightly. “What’d I miss?” And instantly he
returned to an exuberant attitude, a slight smile crossing his youthful face.
Entertainment responded with a small grin, finding Falchion’s expression to be
amusing, not to mention irritating to the Japs.
Mr.
Popular cleared his throat, and continued speaking in Japanese, “Yes, before we
were interrupted,” he shot a glance at Falchion, “by a blatant display of
un-professionalism.” Both Falchion and Entertainment thought they had caught
Shikkon rolling his eyes at Mr. Popular. Before they could mention it Shikkon
spoke, “Yes, we were just discussing the Run.” Shikkon’s voice was somber and
calm. “I assume you had no trouble, Falchion?” Shikkon looked over to Falchion
as a professional equal.
Falchion
felt taken aback by Skikkon’s display, and stumbled as he began to speak,
“Uh..yeah. Uh, no; no I didn’t have any problems, Shikkon. Thank you.” Falchion
felt almost uncomfortable at Shikkon’s attention. Shikkon just simply nodded.
Mr. Popular looked up at Shikkon, his face was beginning to scrunch. Mr.
Popular almost felt that he had been interrupted by Shikkon, but that wouldn’t
be appropriate and found Falchion’s well being to be unworthy of his notice.
“Yes, we’re forming a plan of attack. We
figure it’d be best to give a scout around the area first, and then we’d go
from there.” Mr. Popular continued giving a nonchalant wave towards Shikkon. It
was half paying little heed to Shikkon, and half talking to everyone without
talking to anyone. “So, unless anyone has any objections, we’ll go ahead with
that plan.”
Falchion
folded his arms and gave a look to Entertainment, then Mr. Popular. “I’m okay
with that,” Falchion spoke firmly then looked back to Entertainment,
“Entertainment?” She had been staring blankly at Mr. Popular, and was roused by
Falchion’s voice. “Yeah, sure. I’m good to go tonight if needed,” She gave a
grin to Falchion as she spoke to him. Falchion's left brow rose slightly, in a
quizzical expression. He noticed, and questioned, the mischievous look that had
appeared on Entertainment's face.
“Yes,
we had better do this now,” Mr. Popular’s voice rose through their staring
contest. “We can take my car, Shikkon will drive,” he spoke as he rose from his
chair. Shikkon only responded with a nod, as he rose from the arm of the chair.
As Mr. Popular headed towards the door, Falchion moved to the side and opened the
door for him. At least was Mr. Popular’s perception.
Mr.
Popular strode through the door confidently and paid little attention to the
help holding the door. As Shikkon passed by the door, he gave Falchion a little
nod. Entertainment was the last to pass Falchion. She strode through leisurely,
and gave the smallest of curtsies Falchion as she passed. Closing the door
quietly behind them, Falchion looked up towards Mr. Popular.
“Since
we’re taking your car, Mr. Popular, I have to grab some stuff from my bike.
It’ll only take a minute.” Falchion said as he moved quickly towards the front
of the group. “Very, well,” Mr. Popular said as he gave a dramatic sigh. “We’ll
wait, for you, but only cause you’re paying.” Falchion just ignored Mr.
Popular, as he passed him, and continued down the stairs silently.
Entertainment
had noticed a small change coming over Falchion this evening. He had always been
polite and jovial when interacting with them, but his demeanor was shifting to
a more serious manner. She thought on the matter for a moment as the three of
them descended the stairs. They had followed Falchion, but as soon as they
reached the bottom of the stairs he had vanished into the small crowd. Despite
her eyes she could not keep follow the man.
Mr.
Popular, Shikkon, and Entertainment exited The Diamond to find another dreary Seattle
As
Shikkon held the rear passenger door for Mr. Popular he smiled and said to
Falchion, “I’ve got a pair of those. It does wonders for night time work.” As
Falchion climbed into the passenger seat he looked across the car at Shikkon,
“Uh, thanks. Yeah they are pretty handy.” Entertainment climbed into the back
with Mr. Popular, and Shikkon climbed into the driver’s seat. Falchion had
never really taken the time to fully look at Shikkon, and realized that he
probably had the eyes to match the rest of his chromed up body. Falchion then
realized that Shikkon probably didn’t need the goggles, and was referring to
his armored suit.
Shikkon
started the car, and began checking everything in preparation. Falchion noticed
that this seemed more like routine for him, than actual safety precautions.
They heard a light couple of thuds on the window separating them from the back
seat. Shikkon understood this as Mr. Popular was ready to go, and the car left
the parking garage late that Tuesday evening.
Everything
was moving in slow motion. One minute Falchion had separated from the group.
The next he was scrambling around trying to take care of a fragged up situation
as best he could.
He
had wanted to investigate a strange looking sniper behind the group. Falchion
had an especial interest in him, since he had been looking at them as soon as
they had arrived. He had gotten a small thrill out of the fact that the sniper
seemed highly perturbed when he had vanished from sight. The others in the
group hadn’t noticed him disappearing or the sniper, but he was fine with that.
Falchion
also wanted to know who had been moving in and out of Simon’s house. The few
minutes before his investigation into the sniper, he had seen several figures
moving in and around the house. The others in the group had seen them too, and
they had moved in closer to investigate. Falchion looking around cautiously
caught sight of the sniper, he was good, but Falchion felt that he was probably
being slightly careless with his concealment because he was overconfident.
Overconfident in what, Falchion didn’t know.
As
Falchion had begun to move closer to the mysterious sniper, the entire area
ceased to be covered in darkness, and then Falchion heard it. A massive
explosion had erupted, and the once well-hidden house was now a blazing
inferno. This took precedence over the sniper, and Falchion made his way back
to the group.
It
took him a few moments but he found the rest of his group lying on the ground a
hundred feet from the house. He ran to check on each of them, none of them
seemed to be badly hurt, just lying there unconscious. He didn’t take the time
to try to rouse them. He knew it was time to go. A flaming fireball in
Snohomish was bound to attract unwanted attention.
He
drove with careful speed, this time taking a more direct route back to
Shikkon’s club. As he drove away he decided to risk taking the 405 even with
the threat of multiple go-gangs and their idiotic claims to “terrirtory”.
Despite his concerns of go-gangs he made it back to The Diamond in about twenty
minutes. He felt thankful for the cover of darkness and lack of traffic.
As
he entered the parking garage he parked the car, and sat there thinking for a
moment. He got out and locked the car, and scrambled back to the club. He was
waved through the front door, and again Falchion felt thankful for the club
still being open, despite the hour. He found a couple of employees and had them
follow him back to Mr. Popular’s car.
Falchion
carried Entertainment, and each of the employees grabbed an unconscious Shikkon
and Mr. Popular. They brought them in through a rear entrance to hide any
suspicions and carried them to one of the rear rooms on the second floor, and
set them out on the various couches in the room. He left simple instructions
with the employees to watch them, and inform them that they had been
successful. Falchion didn’t want to leave much more information than was
needed. “Thank god for the Yakuza business procedures,” Falchion thought.
That had been a week ago, and Falchion had
remained hidden for the remainder of the week. He’s only contact with the
outside world had been a call to Requiem to inform him of the jobs completion,
a thankful call from Entertainment, and a call to Popular despite his better
judgment. The conversation with Requiem had been short and to the point.
Requiem invited Falchion back in for some more work, and Falchion politely
requested that the others be allowed in on the new job offer. Since, Falchion
told Requiem, that they had been instrumental on the last job.
Falchion
had managed to keep the conversation with Entertainment light and pleasant,
only giving glimpses of what had happened, for he was not altogether sure what
had really happened. Entertainment seemed content with the nature of their
conversation and didn’t fully probe more into the situation. Falchion also
asked her if she would like more work, and she seemed delighted.
His
conversation with Popular was even shorter as Falchion invited him back for
subsequent work, and told him where to meet. Falchion also suggested that he
bring Shikkon, to which Mr. Popular simply laughed at him for such a silly
notion. “He always goes with me. He is my right hand man, and my protection.”
So many questions raced through Falchion’s
mind the last week. What had really happened? Who was that sniper watching us?
Was he simply sent to take out Simon, or was he sent to observe us? The biggest
concern to Falchion was not so much the sniper, but the people who had been
near the building shortly before it erupted. Who were they working for, and why
did they want to do the task that had been assigned to him? If they too were
working for Ares then perhaps this job had been a setup, and if that was the
case then his mentor had been right about Ares and Requiem. He was going to
need all the help he could get in the weeks to come.
-BIO-
Name:
Ryan “Falchion” Fields
Height: 5’9 ft. (175.26 cm)
Weight: 175 lb. (79.54 kg)
Age:
21
Race:
Dwarf (ethnicity: Caucasian-UCAS)
Likes:
Blades, comic books, and moonlight evenings
Dislikes: Arrogance, tacos, and guns
Archtype:
Spell-casting Adept
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