Jogging in the Shade

Humanitarian Aid

Initial After Action Review, John Silva, SMORC, Neah Bay Hantavirus Outbreak

I was initially assigned to the task of investigating the find of an artifact disk recovered at an early period settlement on an island off of the main Neah Bay settlement. I dispatched an archaeological team to investigate the find and see if there was more to the site. Shortly after the archaeological find, an outbreak of Hantavirus occurred in the main Neah Bay settlement. Though the vector for the outbreak was unknown, we focused on generation of an anti-viral to contain the outbreak. The same day the anti-viral was delivered, the Horizon clinic where it was stored was broken into and the serum was stolen. I resolved to recover the anti-viral as the time to regenerate the serum would result in the death of thousands. I also needed to investigate the disappearance of the archaeological team I dispatched.
I hired a local Seattle team of Shadowrunners to provide extra security and a cover for my operations in investigation. The team investigated the Horizon clinic and interviewed the medical personnel as well as numerous individuals in the town. No one saw the break-in or knew who might have accomplished the threat. The doors to the storage room were removed but with no obvious method. Nothing outside medical storage was destroyed in the clinic leading to the conclusion that the theft and destruction were targeted in that location as if the only intent was to take or destroy the anti-viral and other medicines. Additional interviews led to the last known location of my archaeological team. Looking through their rooms we discovered little but the location of their search site on the same island near the settlement where the artifact disc was first discovered.
On the island, we discovered strange people throwing rat feces and corpses into snow blowing machines that atomized the refuse and made an airborne vector for the Hantavirus. In the refuse we discovered the cases holding the anti-viral serum. While attempting to recover the serum, a firefight broke out. The people we were fighting were supernaturally resilient, violent, and strong. I also noticed that some of the individuals attacking the team were our archaeological team. They didn’t seem rational or themselves. I ran to recover the samples and I was hit from behind by something and sank into unconsciousness. When I woke up, the runners had dispatched the targets and recovered the anti-viral. Among the defeated attackers, I confirmed the bodies of the archaeological team and Dr. Austlander, the head administrator at the hospital, as well as a number of locals. We returned the serum to the clinic to be distributed to the populace. The runners disabled the snow-blowers at the site preventing the further spread of the virus. I quickly paid off the runners and got them away from the site. Attached to this report is a description of the runners I hired for further tracking and work. I also included a version of the P2.0 network in their payment for them to use and our exploitation in the future.

Case Manager’s Note: based on Spazz’s description of the people his team fought off, ghouls and vampires aren’t likely as they wouldn’t poison their food supply in such a way, and physical descriptions didn’t match. Zombies are a possibility, but there didn’t seem to be a Voudoun present to direct the followers, and the behavior wasn’t consistent with what we know of that tradition either. This could be a Shedim infestation. Although no one reported seeing the characteristic astral jellyfish constructs consistent with these spirits, the behavior certainly matches their interests to end life and possess corpses.


“Gather around children and I’ll tell you the story of the brave mercenaries who set aside their ways and saved Kor’s Farm…” Singh sat in his chair after setting the trid projector to play. He knew that he could just roll the trid footage from the runners’ recorders and those would be a complete audio visual documentary of what happened. Singh was old fashioned, however, and knew that stories are a very effective way of communicating to the next generation the proper lessons from the events. Besides, the raw recordings were far too graphic and explicit for the children. Instead, he decided, a few carefully selected still images from the footage set to a timer would do a very effective job of punctuating the story he would tell. The children of the farm gathered around his chair. A few parents stayed on as chaperons while the majority enjoyed an evening of quiet without their children. Singh enjoyed performing this service from time to time. Chaaya was one of the chaperons and stared intently as she sat cross-legged in a corner.
“Years ago, our community was threatened by a mysterious force. A body that had been attacked by a wild animal appeared in a nearby river. A friend of the community who once was a policeman came to help us in our hour of need. Unfortunately, shortly after he arrived and began his investigation, our farm was beset by packs of wild animals. Night after night, our perimeter was attacked by packs of devil rats, wild dogs, and other animals with the occasional human savage shooting from the wood line.” Dark images of wet jaws filled with sharp teeth and eyes that glowed with the reflection of the communities lights faded in and out on the trid player.
“My police friend, Hua, was injured in a mist lynx attack and was unable to continue his investigation outside the farm. So, determined to discover the truth behind the attacks in the area, he hired mercenaries to perform his searches and assist in defending the community. The mercenaries arrived in their large, flying, armored vehicle.” Behind Singh, images cycled of a LAV descending on the farm and a group of shadowrunners getting out of the vehicle. Singh narrated descriptions of the runners as images showed armed, human men assisting in medical treatment for the inhabitants. An elven girl who appears to be a magician or shaman helps with the crops. Other human men help with shoring up security arrangements and an android like drone works on the generator stacks.
“After helping with the community, they fulfilled Hua’s request and conducted the search and investigation. They traveled to two villages that might have held clues to the deaths. After they finished their search they determined that one of the villages was subjected to similar attacks as our community. The other village seemed to be the target of a single animal attack. Though the slaughter was tragic, it appeared those murdered were a band of ruffians about to stage their own attack on our community.” The trid was dark during these descriptions. The raw footage from these investigations was far too graphic this close to bedtime.
“Though the mercenaries didn’t find anything Hua didn’t already know, they assisted in defeating the critters and the humans who were attacking the community.” Images sprang to life again on the trid, this time showing the runners standing boldly on the perimeter firing out on animals and tribal warriors. “When our enemies were vanquished they righteously went in search of their leaders in the Plastic Jungle.” The trid changed to images of the shadowrunners moving in the darkened artificial jungle of plastic sheeting and shanty towns. “In a short but lethal battle they discovered the horrifying origin of our attackers and slayed the leader of the cannibal cult.” Singh gestured to the Wendigo head mounted on the wall behind him. “Though these adventurers worked for profit, their courage and compassion kept our home and families safe from the evil of the outside world. Remember them and their example, and remember the risks they suffered to ensure your survival. Remember always that fighting to protect the innocent is the path of the righteous.”

Demolition Run

Conclusions into the investigation of the 15 MAY 73 attack on Doc Wagon Pharmaceutical Processing Plant DWSS-14 as determined by interviews of surviving security, security logs, and forensic examination.

Insertion method to the site is uncertain. Though they may have approached by ground, aerial insertion cannot be ruled out with the consideration that they landed beyond the range of the anti-aircraft systems. The infiltration initiated at the western fence line and likely began with wireless reconnaissance. No magical reconnaissance was reported. Security was alerted to something unusual when the lawn mowing drone activated. A patrolling guard reported seeing someone trying to enter the fence after turning off the mower. The next report was an explosion from a grenade thrown on the roof of the surveillance shack resulting in the death of the security systems operator from injuries sustained from the grenade and fall from the shack. The security mage reported four individuals moving south along the western fence line as the result of astral reconnaissance. A signal was sent to regional security headquarters and a relief force was requested. The security guards then assumed covered positions to await a breach of the perimeter. A short exchange of fire took place outside the facility as the intruders climbed over the fence at the secure entry point firing arrows into the courtyard killing two guards. A second effort breached the door and killed the guard there. A heavy lifting drone was activated and crashed through the wall where the security mage was operating from, confirming the report of a hacker as part of the assault force. The intruders then stormed the main facility, killing the mage and severely wounding two guards on the upper floor. They then wounded the troll guard in the basement. The intruders moved the three surviving guards out of the facility. A few minutes after the assault began, a large explosion destroyed the facility. Security reinforcements arrived 10 minutes after the report of assault was received, but the intruders had long since departed.

The intruders were identified as (1) a male human of possible Aztlan or Amazonian descent, (2) an Elven female wielding a bow, (3) a human weapons specialist with possible cyber or bioware enhancements, and (4) a male Caucasian dwarf. The speed of the attack and the completeness of the destruction point to the probability that these were professional operators with significant training and resources. The motive for the destruction is unknown at this time. The facility was destroyed beyond the capability to repair. Courses of action are being developed on whether to rebuild the site completely, or abandon the site and rebuild capacity elsewhere. Investigations into the identities of the perpetrators and possible reprisals are being conducted. Investigations division is sharing information with Knight Errant to broaden the search databases.

End Report

On the Run

Recording from a meeting of Shangri-La Entertainment (Subsidiary of Horizon) security staff 20 MAY 2073.

“So, tell me again how we lost this one.”

“Sir, we were commissioned by Mr. Tarkasian to acquire what he thought might be a lost recording of the entertainer JetBlack. Apparently Market Research Division found out about the recording through various sources. We traced the offers for the disc back to a Kerwin Loomis, the owner of a dive bar and all around professional loser. We established surveillance on the bar and placed an acquisition team to pick up the disc. Someone tipped off Loomis and we watched as he attempted to slip out the back. The team pursued him into the junkyard behind the bar to extract the recording disc from him. Our team had him subdued when they were ambushed by a shadowrunning team and were in turn subdued. The team was described as a non-descript human male, an old human hacker, a female elf, and a male human pistoleer. The fight was brief. The ambushers must have been a top-notch team. Our analysts did some homework and discovered the shadowrunners path to Loomis. Hired by an as of yet unknown employer, they were tipped off to the recording through some up and coming music star, crashed his concert to discover the identity of Loomis’ middleman, er middlewoman, dwarf…you know what I mean. After shaking up a hacker bar the decker working for Loomis gave them the location of the bar. It’s presumable that she tipped off Loomis to their arrival which is why we had to chase him down to begin with.
Once in possession of the recording, the shadowrunners staged a meet to sell the music. It seems however, that they did not attempt to sell it to their initial employer, but instead to another mysterious party. Once we found out about the meet, we hired a professional shadowrunning team to set up an ambush. They waited for the deal to take place confirming the location of the recording disc and sprung their ambush on the receiving party. Our hired assault team was cut to ribbons. The third party was populated by supernatural beings, likely at least one vampire and other magically augmented operatives. Mr. Tarkasian was very angry he did not receive the recording. We are keeping tabs on the offending shadowrunning team until such time as an opportunity presents itself for our employer to take out his anger on them. “

“So what did we learn from all this?”

“Sir, I have no idea…”

Back in Business

12 MAY 2073

It’s just after Noon on a Friday when your commlink chirps. Checking it, you see a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Answering the call, the icon is replaced by a grinning male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses.
“Hoi chummers!” The ork says with a cheerful grin. “I hear tell you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 7. There’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to meet MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. There’s a missing person that needs to be found.”

Ancient Pawns

5 May 2073 2100 hrs.

Thank God it’s Friday.
You were looking forward to a night full of beer, babes, and Brawl—Urban Brawl that is, with the Screamers playing the Wings in a crosstown shootout—but all too harshly, reality barged in and ruined your weekend plans. Instead you got a call from your fixer with an offer that was sweetened quite nicely. $1,000 just to show up? Hell, your tridset can record the damned game for this kind of money. You grabbed your stuff because the run will be right after the meet, got together with the rest of the crew, and took a drive.
So instead of chomping down buffalo soy-fingers and washing ‘em down with a tall cold one, you  find yourself driving through the elven ghetto, Tarislar. There’s nothing innately elven about it as far as you can see. It’s a far cry from the fancy elven district in Downtown. It feels like the biggest difference is that the hungry street kids are skinnier than ork kids, taller than dwarf kids, and faster than troll kids. Same old ghetto, just with different pointy ears. The outside of the Daisy Chain proper fits your mental image of an elven oasis a little better. There was the occasional tree or two in the parts of Puyallup with running water, to be fair.  The Daisy Chain club itself, though is positively green by comparison in more ways than one. Arrayed in their distinctive green racing leathers, lounging against their distinctive green bikes, members of the Ancients go-gang kill time on the street out front. A few are racing each other up and down the block, two of them on nimble, faring-less street bikes are doing tricks and burning rubber right out front, and plenty more seem to be busy just glaring at one another instead of partaking in the mild contests. No one hassles you at the door, elven or not. You’re expected after all. It’s time for the moment of truth, though, because you’d been dreading the music ever since you heard this was the site for the meet.  The Daisy Chain’s got a reputation for being the hottest nightspot in town for the cynical elven goth types and the subdued, mournful, Celtic wannabes. You expected harps and pipes, sad songs in Sperethiel, the occasional street poet pouring out his heart at being a Tír exile, sob story fundraisers week after week from refugee families. But on weekends, they let people play guitars here, and they even let the band get away with playing a classic rock tune like the one you’re hearing now.
You find your Mr. Johnson right on stage. Belial’s just started up a Concrete Dreams hit called “Broken Yellow Line” as you walk in.  There’s not a harp or set of bagpipes in sight, just the closing notes of “Broken Yellow Line,” a rock ballad that’s older than you are. Whew. Only on the weekend.  Thank God it’s Friday.

The next week…

Belial sat absently strumming his guitar alternately sipping from the four different synthahol drinks in front of him. His guest sat across the table and spoke, “Since you’re decided to play the role of warrior-bard tonight, why don’t you tell me how you ascended to your position over Sting.” Belial’s eyes raised slightly in the direction of his guest and a knowing smile broke over his features.
“It was my Chal’han. The way I saw it, Sting was begging to be replaced by me in deference to my father, but she didn’t want to just hand it over to me and lose face. I had to earn it. I hired some muscle. They were newcomers to the running scene, but word on the streets said they were competent. Lemme see, there was a female elf magician, a guy pretty good with a brace of pistols, maybe a hint of magic in that talent, a rather quiet troll, a tired looking magician who smelled strongly of smoke, and a really old hacker. In accordance to the ceremony they were to perform some jobs as my representatives”
“They first went after this ugly little dwarven pimp we needed to discipline who was using little elf girls improperly and without our blessing. The job went fast. They drove up, almost ran the guy over, and put a couple of rounds in him and his cousin and sped off. I was kinda hopin’ they would have rendered a little aid to the girls, but I understand they were in a hurry.”
“The funny job was their attempt to snag a bunch of Humanis robes for me. The target was the worst bunch of losers that could call themselves a policlub in the area. Should have been easy and started out that way. They snuck in the storage closet by blowing the lock off with a grenade. They grabbed the robes and some other items just as the Humanis goons responded. A firefight broke out that included more grenades and the storefront being demolished by automatic shotgun fire. They left with possession of the robes and the Humanis house burning high.
“Then they went after a group of Spikes in one of their bars. That one was fast and cold. Guys just walked in and shot them all before any of the Spikes could draw a thing. It went down a little harder than I would have liked, I was just hoping for a good old fashioned beat down, but I can’t argue with the efficiency.”
“Next they decided to get some badges from some Skrachaa guarding an underground entrance in our turf. I’m not sure how they did it, but it seems they tipped the guards off that Sting’s team was coming, so that her team got hoops shot off when they made their attempt to do the same job. After the tip off, the runners somehow got the guards to give them their badges. Some kind of favor for the tip-off I guess”
“That should have been enough to win the Chal’han for me, but they did one last job. They came across a Stuffer Shack truck that we wanted looted. They stopped the truck in a rather spectacular fashion and took a bunch of stuff out from underneath the opposition’s nose to bring back to us and win the Chal’han with style.”

“So who was this team, what did they call themselves?” his guest asked.

“They didn’t have a team name, just a bunch of street names like everyone around here. Overall they were a good group of folks. My kind of scum, if a little uptight. I’m indebted to them and they are after all, honorary Ancients. Now, I wouldn’t start a war over them, but may I ask what your interest is?”

His guest stood up to leave. “I’m just keeping up to date on the up and comers. I won’t ask you to betray your sources, but let me know the next time you work with them. I might have some work to be done.”

A Fire on the Deep

“Help my people survive this and I’ll give you each 1,600 nuyen!” screams Bat’djoto as she disappears into a side tunnel obscured by the smoke. You quickly look around you to assess your situation. In the aftermath of the explosion a fire is raging toward you from the main thoroughfare of the Underground into the Goblin Market.  The foam sound baffling that covers the walls and ceiling and the stalls that clog the market is supposed to be  fire retardant, but for whatever reason it is bursting into flames and falling in great chunks onto the people below. The stalls were clearly built without regard to any sort of  fire code and have been assembled from everything from painted wooden pallets to scrap densiplast. People unfortunate enough to be to close to the oncoming flames become fuel for the inferno. Behind you, though you cannot see it at this point, is the Lordstrungs exit you came in. Beyond that is a residential area. Most of the people you see are moving towards the exit. The exceptions are five orks and two trolls wearing Skraacha colors, who are moving towards the fire in an attempt to fight the fire. You figure you have five minutes to do something before the fire engulfs you and them on its way to the exit and hundreds of people, not to mention the residential area beyond.
You survey the tunnel to see what you have to work with. Along the walls are boxes for activation of the fire suppression system. This is where the “firefighters” are moving towards right now. Looking at nearby boxes you can see the system is showing a cascade of errors including “low water pressure” and “service required”. Numerous exposed pipes run overhead. You’re sure some of them contain water, though you are equally sure some are also empty and others likely hold gas or waste. You see lots of flammable materials that could be moved to form a firebreak. You know this will take a significant amount of time and effort. The ventilation system is pushing air into the fire, forming a bellows feeding the flames. The node is currently broadcasting the message “Ventilation control is down for repair. Please contact your Area Support Specialist for further assistance.” The physical box for the ventilation system is on the ceiling of the tunnel, unfortunately.
The heat is rising, the smoke obscures your vision and makes it difficult to breathe, but you know you must do something or you and hundreds of others may perish. Worse, you’ll miss out on over a grand and a half.

Interview Series from the Ork Underground Fire.
Aaron, Ork Underground citizen: “Yeah, so I was minding my own business looking through the shops in the Underground when there was a giant explosion. There was fire, smoke, people screaming. I started running but the people in the crowds were bouncing off each other. I got knocked to the ground and then I looked up, and there were these guys standing there. Everyone else was running, but these folks were standing their ground, helping some get out, picking others up. A humongous dwarf was picking stuff up and throwing it away from the flames. Another guy was giving speeches to the Skraacha fire fighters and the folks trying to get out. There was a wizard who was controlling spirits who were also fighting the fire. There was this normal guy who started messing with stuff that exploded when he was done. There was an elf chick who levitated up to the ceiling and started working on some control boxes. They got everyone out, then started repairing and shooting the fire extinguishing system. The craziest thing of all, was that it actually worked. They pulled it all together and managed to get the fire under control. They didn’t look like much, but they were fragging Heroes!”

William, Human systems engineer: “I was stuck in this giant wave of trogs and dwarves as they panicked all around me. But we were stopped by the barricades those idiot police were throwing up to keep the useless dregs inside. I started pushing my way forward, but no one would listen to me about how important I was. There was this big troll in some gang shouting at some ork in a religious get-up. The troll was trying to get everyone to charge the barricade while the ork was suggesting a hippie sit in. I was rooting the troll along so they would charge the barricades and get things going so I could move along. Then this group of guys covered in dirt and soot came down the tunnel from where the fire was rolling. They stared down the troll and got them to side with the ork. The nerve of those guys. Those long haired peaceniks kept me from making the downtown tram. Complete bullsh*t.

Colt, Ork Skraacha member: “We had just got done putting the fire out and getting the last people out of the smoke filled tunnels, when some of the neighborhood kids came busting out of a side tunnel. Some of them had pitched in to carry messages around during emergencies like this one. They were in a bad way, they’d been running for a while and at least one of them had been shot. I’m tending to one of the kids and those same fraggers who were helping us put out the fire disappeared into the tunnel the kids came out of. About 10 minutes later there was some gunfire and a lot of screaming. Those guys came back looking null sweat to tell us that they took care of the guys and that they were an Alamos 20K team. I know what the news has been saying, but I believe those guys who saved our hoops.

Another Foray into the Underground

It’s 0630 (that’s in the AM!) when Night’s comlink rings. It’s Trogdor again. “Biz is picking up in the Underground.” he opens. “Must be Proposition 23 stirring things up. I figured Antonio was busy wrapping up biz with Bull, so I thought I’d call you to see if you were interested in some more business with that clan of a crew you’re running with now. This is another short-fuse run that needs attention. You have a Ms. Johnson to meet in an hour at the Goblin Market. Best bet is to use the Lordstrung’s entrance. The Johnson is an important person in the Underground and might be a good contact to have in the future. The expectation is that you begin the mission right away, so come ready to work. I don’t know all the details, of course, but it’s supposed to be a simple courier job in the local area that shouldn’t take the whole day. You need to check in at the Beans Outta Bulldog cafe. Good luck.”

Time to get to work.

Copycat Killer

Detective “Tosh” Athack surveyed the scene at the abandoned car dealership in the Redmond Barrens. KE drones hovered around with spotlights looking for evidence and possibly more hidden Humanis goons for the KE SWAT to dispatch. He walked to where the wounded and dead were gathered by the medics to receive a report from the on scene SWAT commander.
Tosh was not a happy troll.
His day started very early with a call on another murder in an apparent string of copycat murders by the Mayan Cutter. This had not amused him as he had been present when his team killed the real Mayan Cutter over a year ago. This morning, the victim was Rebecca MacCallister, the daughter of a local fixer Tosh knew. William MacCallister was quite distraught in his own way. It was predictable Bull wouldn’t sit this one out, and hired a team of shadowrunners to find his daughter’s murderer. Tosh remembered meeting with them. They seemed competent for a bunch of hoods. They had investigated the scene at Rebecca’s residence in the Ork Underground, and even found a clue KE investigators had missed. He arranged a meeting with the coroner for them to help them further develop the case. He never thought it would amount to much.
As he passed the bodies of the blond and athletic Humanis goons who used this place as a base of operations for their deluded crusade, he reflected on the past couple of hours. DNA tests from tissue samples from Rebecca’s fingernails matched those found from a blood sample found by the runners at her house. The results hit a match for a Shawn Walker, a former UCAS Special Forces operator and known Humanis hardcase. It took a couple of hours to track down where he hung out and assemble a strike team to go into the that nasty bit in the Barrens. KE teams were planning for quite the fight given the fortress they had identified as where Walker was holed up. Upon arrival the task force was surprised at what was left in the compound.
A few goons were wandering around trying to give aid to wounded and dying comrades when KE showed up in force. The last one didn’t offer much resistance after his buddy was gunned down by overeager SWAT. Before KE arrived a firefight had erupted between the Humanis goons and an Ork Underground street gang. The gangers were significantly out gunned, but seemed to account for themselves quite well considering. One also had to concede that seemingly none of the gangers survived the assault, however.
The SWAT commander briefed Tosh through the external speaker on his helmet in clipped tactical speech. Tactical interrogation of the remaining Humanis member turned confirmed what they saw about the gangers’ attack. The Humanis team had finished mopping up the Orks when they returned to their building to find another attack had hit the back side of their compound. SWAT cleared the compound and discovered a few more bodies out back and a mage inside the compound torn up by an explosion. The attack from the southside had a higher degree of efficiency and power than the sporadic pistol and submachine gun fire at the front. The Humanis goons also mentioned that their leader, Shawn Walker, was missing from the site.
Tosh was now certain the runners were involved. He promised himself he would call Bull later to inquire if Walker’s body would ever be found. Though he appreciated the effort to rid the streets of this particular scum, he was disappointed he would never be able to wrap up this case himself in a clean manner that could result in another step towards promotion. The copycat had damaged his personal reputation as well, and Tosh regretted the opportunity to take his own pound of flesh. He would have much preferred the runners had contacted him, and he would remember that the next time their paths crossed.
The SWAT commander wrapped up his report. “We found this on one of the ork gangers who was caught up in the wall of cars. He seemed to be looking at it before he died and the comlink was on with this image being displayed. We thought it might be pertinent to your investigation considering who was in the photo.” Tosh looked at the link to see an image of one of the gangers holding Rebecca MacCallister close in a familiar embrace while they both smiled. The image had a digital signature reading “Becca” with a digital lip print imposed over the top. Tosh grunted, gave the link back to the commander. “Log it into evidence.” he said as he turned to get out of the coming drizzle.

A Walk in the Park

The job seemed simple. Provide security for a meeting of Fixers in a public park for one hour. What could be easier? There were only a few obstacles. The park was crowded with civilians looking for a pleasant place to have a lunch break. Next to the park was a convention of security providers hawking their wears and displaying the newest in surveillance techniques. Cranky Fixers tried to crash the meeting, Halloweeners tried to barbecue park-goers, drunken magical hobos disrupting surveillance, and cybernetic beagles using disguises as play toys. And lastly, a plot to blow up the meeting via a modified gardening robot packed with explosives. That last one was easily solved by the practical application of the accident power by a spirit. Easily solved, if not quite in the way the controlling magician anticipated.
Once the smoke cleared, and the tally of broken, bleeding bodies was taken, you managed to depart your mission with the full paycheck given by a generous, if bewildered and shaken employer. Quite an auspicious start to a running career. Your team started their time together with a bang.


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