Thursday, October 26, 2017

The Diary of No Fate (A Shadowrun Actual Play) Prelude

As part of preparing for this game, the GM asked the players to describe a recent run that went wrong, and what the character's life is like day-to-day. Since there's no actual update on the diary, I thought I'd post those instead.

A Day In The Life of No Fate

Across from Victoria Harbour, on the south west of Kowloon Peninsula is Yau Tsim Mong. Along the water's edge is Tsim Sha Tsui, Yau Tsim Mong's touristville, distinct for it's affordable middle class hotels in the golden mile and the Hong Kong slum chic that sells so well to fans of glamerous, high budget Hong Kong trids. Keep following Nathan Road inland, and you'll come to Yau Ma Tei and Mong Kok. This is also the Hong Kong of the crime and kung fu trids, but it's the sleazy low budget trids. This is the bridge between Hong Kong's world of business elite and the horrors of the walled city. This is the Hong Kong of narrow roads, match box sized apartments in brutal high rise buildings, the Hong Kong of market stalls, street food and, of course, the Hong Kong of triads and tongs. This is the real Hong Kong.

Perfect place for a dwarf girl looking for a genuine cultural experience! No Fate loves it. Sure, it rains from late spring to early winter, and sure' that's run off from the thousands of high rise window mounted AC units, and sure that's bad for her allergies, and sure there's three times as many gangers here as anywhere else in Hong Kong, but she's got a flash apartment. It used to be a HoHan Guesthouse, back when Yau Ma Tei still attracted visitors. Rok owns it now, rents out sections to local runners. No Fate lives in a basement apartment. You kind have to go down a couple of dead end streets and through an alley or two, into an empty plaza that the HoHan backs onto, then through the garage door off to the side of the old mural, but it comes with garage and workshop space, so who's to complain that it's a little hard to find and you don't leave the house without a loaded gun? Rent's good, electricity and water work, and Rok's a nice guy. Probably.

On a regular day, a day without Business, No Fate wakes up early, real early, dons her respirator, a "just in case" backpack, and some armoured running clothes and goes for a run around Yau Ma Tei. Toxic weather be damned, a girl's got to stay fit. After her run, around when most other people are waking up, she has a light nutrisoy breakfast and checks her regular Gunhaver and the Shadow Commando fan bulletins for news, leaks and on-set photos, then it's round the house chores. You know the kind, scrubbing down benches, helping the autovac get under furniture, washing sweaty clothes and vomit covered rugs, maintenance on the Ramshankle, oiling the warhawks.

Lunch is street food. Always street food. No Fate's apartment is a stone's throw from the Yau Ma Tei 'Poor Mystic's Market', which, in addition to the plentiful junk stores, alchemists, and talismongres, serves up great local Cantonese street food. Occasionally something not soy or krill based even falls off the back of a truck and makes its way into the market food. Either way, for the most authentic and freshest synthetic food substitutes, you go to a market.

After lunch, now loaded up on energy and faux carbs, No Fate heads out for a little urban exploration. There's still lots of Hong Kong she hasn't seen, so whether it's parkouring her way across Kowloon or riding the world's longest elevator all the way to the top, there's a lot for a foreigner to see. A few deck jockeys have told No Fate that the local tours are even better in VR, less crowded, breathable air, minimum risk of being mugged, but she finds it hard to believe a virtual ride up the world's longest escalator could be nearly as exciting as the real thing.

Come evening, the Tsim Sha Tsui markets open up. These are an experience in and of themselves, and No Fate is a sucker for an experience. She does most of her shopping at the markets. She wouldn't dream of going anywhere but Mr Choi for the off-the-rack necessities like pants and firearms, and she'll stop in there if she needs to fence something from a run or restock on ammo, but for everything else (like replacement commlinks, synth-leather boots, and smartlink goggles under the counter) there's no place like the night market for good prices and no questions. She's pretty sure the Gunhaver Replica Armoured Dusters aren't authentic, though, so watch out. The other great thing about the night markets is more street food. The markets stretch across multiple roads, closing off traffic for the evening. In addition to food stalls, local restaurants adjacent to the market set up extra seating on the road, making themselves a de facto part of the market experience. You haven't lived Hong Kong unless you've been sat between two stranger on a chair made for a human, served steamed dumpings in a synth-bamboo steamer and given troll sized chopsticks to eat with.


If there's no shopping to be done, No Fate might browse the markets on her way home from her explorations, but will head home early, throw on a runner trid or two, eat a simple nutrisoy dinner and get to bed early, lulled to sleep by the distant sounds of gang violence her neighbours gearing up for their own Business.

A Run Gone Bad

About a month ago, my fixer contacted me to arrange a meet with Mr Wu. We met in a booth at a Mong Kok restaurant. There was me; White Noise, the decker; a mage named Sun; and a chromed heavy called Quan, our so-called security expert. White Noise had a respectable enthusiasm, Sun was a walking mystery, and in five minutes I could tell Quan didn't know security from his own ass, but he looked like he could squeeze a KE riot helmet into drek with his bare hands, so maybe security expert was a euphamism.

Mr Wu wanted us to get into the board room and president's office of Soba Foods (a subsidiary of Wuxing Inc) and plant some bugs. B&E, standard biz, but I hadn't gone five steps from the restaurant before I got another buzz from my fixer. Special instructions from Mr Wu: My number one responsibility was to keep Sun alive. I had to assume Mr Wu had special instructions for everyone else, too, and that set the alarm bells ringing.

It's like Gunhaver says: Running with only half the info is running blind, and the shadows are deep enough. Still, Gunhaver always takes the job and so do I.

Sun had a plan to get us in via the roof of the Soba Foods building after business hours. The building next to it had an observation deck, and he could use magic to get us from one roof to the next. Once there, White Noise could give the security system a hiccup and we'd walk in theough the roof acces.
Sun went over first, followed by Quan. While White Noise and I waited our turn, she told me she knew Mr Wu had given me special instructions, that she'd got them too; A request for a particular paydata while she was in Soba Food's system. That prompted her to do some extra leg work on the job. She found out Mr Wu worked for Eastern Tiger, he'd given us all extra instructions except Quan, and I should be on my toes because this job was bigger than corp espionage. Then Sun grabbed her and she flew across to Soba Foods before she could tell me anymore.

Going in from the top via the stairs, we hit the board room and the president's office in no time and didn't run into any security. White Noise stayed on the roof to deck in safety. We were done and about to buzz when she started freaking over comms. I assumed she'd been tagged by ice, but she screamed security had found her, the whole thing was a set up, we were fragged, and needed to bug out. I agreed, but Sun finally dropped his bomb on us: Bugging the building was only half the run.

Turns out, the president of Soba Food has a daughter, and her apartment had a bad infestation of roaches, so while it was being cleaned, she'd taken up temporary residency in the Soba Foods office building. This was now a snatch & grab.

Quan had other ideas. He pulled his gun on us and told us to sit tight and security was on its way. He was a plant. Probably not even thebreal Quan. Sun panicked and tried to hit him with a spell but it backfired; blew half his brains right out his nose. Quan said something about the feng shui working to disrupt unwanted magic, an arcane security courtesy of Soba's parent company. I didn't ask for details, just shot the bastard in his knees and in his eyes and did what White Noise suggested: I bugged out.

Good thing about being small is, in a modern building, you can always find a McLane exit.
I don't know what happened to White Noise, but Wuxing Security hasn't come knocking on my door, so I'm guessing she's dead. I called in to my fixer when I was clear and laid it all out for him. Chummer wasn't even mad, just told me to duck and cover for a few days.


Never heard from Mr Wu or Eastern Tiger, but it's like Gunhaver says: The big corps have got a memory a thousand Mr Johnson's long.

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