07-30-2018, 01:12 AM
The side of the building flickers with images of teenagers laughing and enjoying life. Ky has no idea what it’s advertising and wouldn’t be interested if he did. The wall continues for half a block. Many pixels are missing leaving large black squares and graffiti covers much of the screen. The street is bathed in pulsating light from the projections often making it hard to discern the landscape ahead. A homeless bum reaches out for food from his squat on the sidewalk as the image of a smiling teenager enjoying synthetic meat dances across the screen behind him.
Ky shakes off the bum who has grabbed his ankle with his dirty hand. A military defense cannon mounted across the street atop a civil defense tower follows the commotion. The operators must be having a chuckle as they watch their monitor from who knows where.
My passes a street cart selling replacement body parts wrapped in shrink wrapped plastic packets. The vendor, a droid of some kind looks suspicious, even for a robot. Ky’s been looking for a new set of kidneys but he’ll give this place a miss.
He looks around for the location he’s been given and spots a small laneway, almost hidden amongst the food carts and discount kiosks lining the street. A large hooded man stands about 2 metres down the alley under a humming air-con compressor. Water is still dripping from a broken drainpipe after this morning’s rain. Ky casually walks up the man and raises his wrist. The hooded man scans it. ‘Follow me’, he says.
Pulling open an access panel behind a generator stack, Ky follows the man through a narrow passageway lit only by neon tubes under the floor grid. I looks like a service tunnel, probably a couple of hundred years old. There seems to be people watching from alcoves and hiding places - people scurry about as they walk down a small stairwell into a larger room.
This place has a bleakness and dullness about it. Blinds cover the windows, almost all the way down. A strip of light comes through. It is somewhat smokey and light beams punctuate the air from soft glowing fixtures behind the walls. . It is constructed of hexagonally arranged blocks. Many people sit at terminals and in side rooms. None of them notice or even care about Ky, they just go on with their business. A figure walks up to him, it’s Calla, though she’s wearing a tattered wrap with several jack cords strapped across her chest. She also has some sort of insignia pin which may indicate rank. Several of the other are wearing them too. Another figure walks up; male, tall, their face concealed by a reflective oval mask. Ky notices text streaming across where his eyes should be. His plastic wrap top is printed with strange typography in a language Ky is not familiar with and tattoos seem to be brand logos of implant manufacturers.
Calla speaks. ‘Ridern this is Ky. The one I told you about’
Introduction Reaction:
4 = 4[d6]
4. The NPC is neither here nor there. They seem OK but you’re not sure how much you’ll get out of them. If they are reacting to something, it’s pretty neutral.
‘Indeed’, he says. Ky is getting nothing from him.
NPC Questions:
4 = 4[d6]
1 = 1[d6]
4. They get to the heart of the matter. They ask you directly about what they are after. Roll 1d6
1-3: You make small talk. Roll again.
‘Mr Ky’, he starts, ‘We represent the freedom of all Tau. We want to know how you can help us?’
Ky mumbles something about fighting the good fight but does not really convince Ridern of his worth’
6 = 6[d6]
3 = 3[d6]
6. Roll 1d6
3. The NPC is angry at something and draws you into the conversation.
‘So how do you think, Mr Ky,’ Ridern continues, ‘Your undisciplined and foolish attack is going to help our cause?’
“Hey I had nothing to do with that...’ Ky is cut off
‘But they were your men!’ Ridern screams at him. Ky is silent, he has no answers.
Calla walks up beside him. She smiles and produces something in her hand. Then Ky’s whole world goes black...
Ky shakes off the bum who has grabbed his ankle with his dirty hand. A military defense cannon mounted across the street atop a civil defense tower follows the commotion. The operators must be having a chuckle as they watch their monitor from who knows where.
My passes a street cart selling replacement body parts wrapped in shrink wrapped plastic packets. The vendor, a droid of some kind looks suspicious, even for a robot. Ky’s been looking for a new set of kidneys but he’ll give this place a miss.
He looks around for the location he’s been given and spots a small laneway, almost hidden amongst the food carts and discount kiosks lining the street. A large hooded man stands about 2 metres down the alley under a humming air-con compressor. Water is still dripping from a broken drainpipe after this morning’s rain. Ky casually walks up the man and raises his wrist. The hooded man scans it. ‘Follow me’, he says.
Pulling open an access panel behind a generator stack, Ky follows the man through a narrow passageway lit only by neon tubes under the floor grid. I looks like a service tunnel, probably a couple of hundred years old. There seems to be people watching from alcoves and hiding places - people scurry about as they walk down a small stairwell into a larger room.
This place has a bleakness and dullness about it. Blinds cover the windows, almost all the way down. A strip of light comes through. It is somewhat smokey and light beams punctuate the air from soft glowing fixtures behind the walls. . It is constructed of hexagonally arranged blocks. Many people sit at terminals and in side rooms. None of them notice or even care about Ky, they just go on with their business. A figure walks up to him, it’s Calla, though she’s wearing a tattered wrap with several jack cords strapped across her chest. She also has some sort of insignia pin which may indicate rank. Several of the other are wearing them too. Another figure walks up; male, tall, their face concealed by a reflective oval mask. Ky notices text streaming across where his eyes should be. His plastic wrap top is printed with strange typography in a language Ky is not familiar with and tattoos seem to be brand logos of implant manufacturers.
Calla speaks. ‘Ridern this is Ky. The one I told you about’
Introduction Reaction:
4 = 4[d6]
4. The NPC is neither here nor there. They seem OK but you’re not sure how much you’ll get out of them. If they are reacting to something, it’s pretty neutral.
‘Indeed’, he says. Ky is getting nothing from him.
NPC Questions:
4 = 4[d6]
1 = 1[d6]
4. They get to the heart of the matter. They ask you directly about what they are after. Roll 1d6
1-3: You make small talk. Roll again.
‘Mr Ky’, he starts, ‘We represent the freedom of all Tau. We want to know how you can help us?’
Ky mumbles something about fighting the good fight but does not really convince Ridern of his worth’
6 = 6[d6]
3 = 3[d6]
6. Roll 1d6
3. The NPC is angry at something and draws you into the conversation.
‘So how do you think, Mr Ky,’ Ridern continues, ‘Your undisciplined and foolish attack is going to help our cause?’
“Hey I had nothing to do with that...’ Ky is cut off
‘But they were your men!’ Ridern screams at him. Ky is silent, he has no answers.
Calla walks up beside him. She smiles and produces something in her hand. Then Ky’s whole world goes black...