WHEN ARE WE? All adventures in Carbon take place in the year 2185, in the sprawling city of San Francisco and tell stories of the people who live there, and the Megacorporations that control it.
CYBERNETICS AND AUGMENTATIONS Everybody has some kind of cybernetic enhancement, more commonly known as an augmentation. The most common augmentation is a "neurolink", a type of organic computer wired into the user's brain - usually at birth. A neurolink allows the user to directly interface with computers and data and is used for everything from online shopping, to ordering food from a menu at a restaurant, to checking your own vital signs. Other common augmentations include new mechanical limbs for manual laborers, enhanced eyes for surgeons, or even mechanical livers so you drink as much as you'd like.
POLLUTION Due to environmental collapse, and the radiation leakage from power cells, the world is heavily polluted. Many cities have air filters atop building that keep the pollution at livable levels, although on bad days even the cleanest of cities have visibility of less than one hundred feet. The areas outside of cities are heavily polluted, and no somewhere you can spend any extended amount of time without suffering serious health issues.
MEGACORPORATION The world is essentially run by megacorporations, with actual governments serving as little more than figureheads. The megacorporations constantly fight among themselves for more power and control.
LAW ENFORCEMENT The governments of the world do very little, but one area they still control is law enforcement. The world is more violent than ever, and the law is no exception to this trend. Most law enforcement shoot first and ask questions later. Don't expect to negotiate with the police.
ECONOMY The top 0.5% of the world controls everything, with the majority of the population in constant and never-ending dept. You are expected to work 10 hours a day, 30 days a month in 2185. You sign up for a job with a standard five-year contract and get paid at the end of it. Most people run a five-year line of credit during this time, hoping their paycheck is enough at the end of it to clear their debts.
CURRENCY The world runs on a secure, decentralized cryptocurrency called wonlongs (W). This un-hackable currency replaced traditional currencies following the manufactured collapse of the banking sector. Wonlongs can be found on physical credit chips or are transferred directly into your account. Many people opt to have interface chips in their fingers or thumb to allow them to scan their fingerprint to make purchases.
All player characters in Carbon 2185 are called Cyberpunks. The good news is, if you've played DnD 5th edition, we use the same rules. There are a few minor tweaks however.
STEP ONE: Ability Scores: Str, Dex, Con, Int, Technology(Tec), People, (Peo). Roll 2d6 + 5 for each stat, or here's the array: 16,14,13,12,10,9. Keep them handy, we'll apply them soon.
STEP TWO: Origin: This is your "race" like in DnD. Badlander (Think Mad Max), Gutter Punk (a gang member), Korporate Kid (A child killer raised by a Megacorp), Regular Joe (A customizable typical working citizen), Synth (an android, think Agent K from Blade Runner 2), Wormer (A human born on an offworld colony)
STEP THREE: Vice: Roll 1d100 and find out your vice, a role playing opportunity that shows how no one is perfect.
STEP FOUR: Apply your ability scores and alter them based on your Origin.
STEP FIVE: Background and Age: What did you do before you became a cyberpunk? How old are you? This will further modify and flesh out your character. (Think backgrounds from DnD)
STEP SIX: Class: Daimyo (Barbarian), Doc (Healer), Enforcer (Fighter), Hacker (Tech/Offheals), Investigator (Ranger), Scoundrel (Rogue). Each one has their pros and cons.
STEP SEVEN: Just like in DnD, figure out your proficiency numbers and saving throw proficiencies. Then, like in DnD 3.5, figure out your Fortitude, Reflex, and Mind saving throws.
(Due to the age of this fable, the events depicted in this tale may or may not be fictitious.)
I have turned against my brethren and entered a fate that cannot be altered. My existence has become a granule glowing among the blackness of a lost world, and the life I once knew is but a tragedy of my decomposition. I am an Acheronian - created on a plane within the multiverse long ago. I have revered my kind, respected them, followed them. I have performed their rituals and joined in their song. I have been loyal to them and laid down my life for them. They have made me strong and they have protected me in my weakness. But now I see and understand the horrific influence they carry and the authority they frivolously surrender to the worst of evils. I never thought I would ever feel this way, and now, after what I have done, there is no escape.
My treason is not a simple matter, so let me tell of its birth.
Since time immemorial Acheronians, in the name of Bane - the Lord General, have conquered many worlds among the stars of the cosmos. Hundreds of years ago, I was sent from my world to others, destroying the Legions of Hell where their influence was felt. Through promotion, I ascended higher in the War Machine and eventually joined the ranks of those that would not just rule armies, but the worlds we conquered. The subjugated kingdoms of Exitus rejoiced upon the arrival of my kind. I, along with three other of my kind, were the ones that ruled this world's indigenous people and it's resources. The four of us arrived at the Temple of Steel with a large, congealing mass of followers, shouting and hollering in cacophonous approval at our heels. We were gods among mortals. We were overwhelmed and followed by a sizable welcoming party, which only grew larger as we walked down the main road through the busy marketplace. When we stepped through the grand doors of the temple and entered the magnificent sanctuary, the cheering of the crowds ceased. At the center of the temple resided the altar. Stains of different bloods and fluids saturated the floor beneath the altar. The gradient of color was vivid at the peak of the mountain and faded towards the base.
This was the scene that triggered the first occurrence of dissonance within me for the very first time in my life. As if from a subtle nudge, my heart twisted slightly, an awful division within the gut of my soul. The fetid aroma of the temple then encroached upon my senses and amplified the sensation. My Acheronian brothers were not affected by any such nuances and remained within their usual calmness. The priest of the Almighty of War welcomed us at the base of the ascending altar. Words of approval left his lips. The priest ascended the steps of the altar's mountain and was met at its peak by a hooded cleric holding a newborn. With the newborn transferred into his hand, the priest produced a very thin knife and stuck it swiftly in the newborn's neck, and just as swiftly, retrieved it. The infant screamed briefly, and was then placed on the ground. It fell to its side. Blood began pooling about it and seeping down the sides of the stairs.
"May the tides of the Almighty of War wash upon us and cleanse us."spoke the priest. We bowed our heads and left the temple. As soon as we exited the Temple of Steel, the crowds awaiting us outside erupted into roaring cheers. In the later hours of the next morning, after most had retreated to the sanctuary of their homes, I wandered the streets of Exitus. Along the sides of the roads, debris from the festivities lay about: flags were spread in tattered disarray, empty mugs of ale rolled around, and pieces of meat and blood splattered most surfaced. A small crowd still followed me, celebrating continuously until they could no more, but I paid them no attention. My mind was already growing deep into its new and foreign disgust, the revolution within me was even further underway. I had walked for close to an hour before I heard cheering and screaming not far from my location. With no agenda, I made my way in the direction of the sounds.
When I came upon the source of the excitement, I was horribly surprised. A small circle of people had formed in the center of the road and Vyacheslav, one of the four Acheronians sent to rule with us, was in the middle. At his feet lay the remains of at least four children, their limbs sliced clean from their bodies. He held a girl who had already lost her arm. Blood coated her clothing and skin, and her breathing was beyond fatigued and full of terror. She tried to scream, but she could not. The crowd watching chanted at the Acheronian and the girl, yelling different prayers relentlessly:
"May the tides bring me safe travel!" "May the tides give me fortune!" "May the tides heal my wife!"
Vyacheslav, in return, proclaimed, "The Almighty of War hears your plea!"before slitting the girl's throat and letting her fall to the ground. The rejoicing heightened.
When my eyes began to pulsate with repulsion and hate, I at once realized that I could not bear the existence of such sickening debauchery any longer. Such acts were not meant to occur and life was never meant to be degraded and mutilated in such a grotesque manner - let alone, I suddenly realized, in any manner. My mind warped and fluctuated. My consciousness rippled with new awareness. The nerves beneath my flesh fired and sent uneasiness throughout me. There was no explanation of my change, there was no way to isolate or define it. All I could do was believe that the world had reached a threshold from which it could continue no longer, and that I had been chosen to reconcile it.
The clip on my belt snapped loose and I gripped my sword in my hand.
"What do you ask from the Almighty of War? What geefts do you weesh to receive!"Vyacheslav shouted to the crowd.
"<There weel be no more sacrifices!>"I challenged in a voice full of rage.
"<You oppose, Mischa?>"asked Vyacheslav. "<Do you weesh me to deprive thees people of their blessings?>" The crowd condemned me with expressions of disfavor.
"<Eef the only way those blessings can be geeven ees through thees children's lives, then yes, I do weesh to deprive them.>"I answered.
Vyacheslav started into a laugh of hideous degree and raised his sword to begin his ritualistic carnage regardless of my request. But, before he could swing it, the crowd gasped at the sight of my sword blade slicing deep into his head. I yanked my sword free and plunged my blade into his chest."<I told you there would be no more!>"I declared."<Eet was not up to you to decide!>"I screamed, and slowly turned to the crowd. "Go home! Go home!"At first slowly, but then rather quickly, the people turned and disappeared into the dark. I was left alone with Vyacheslav.
"<Look at what you hef done, Mischa. You weel not stop our ways with thees people.>"Vyacheslav said, even as the pain of his wounds coursed through him and wearied him."<The Lord General weel not like to hear of what you hef done. Eet will be a pity to see you keeled where you stand.>"
"<That weel be their issue to discuss, but you weel not be the one to tell them.>"I responded, my voice quaking in rage. Tears burned my eyes. I felt like I was about to erupt in unbridled violence, or cry in anguish and sadness. I brought my sword up swiftly and decapitated him, changing my destiny forever more.
Before the sun had begun its ascent the next morning, I had left the boundaries of the city, passing through the gates to the north and leaving before word of my treachery had been borne to the Temple, and to Acheron.
The world is shit. We all know that. But when I was a kid, I thought that I might make it a little bet less shitty. Become a cop, get criminals off the streets, be a role model for other kids who grew up in the shit.
I watched too much ******* TV growing up.
When I graduated, I enrolled in the police academy. I worked as hard as I could, graduated at the top of my class. I worked as a vice cop, busting the dealers, the black market dealers, traffickers, dirty pimps, you name it. But one day, I realized that nothing I did would make a damn bit of difference. You tend to learn that when you see the higher ups stealing money after a bust. I didn't tell anyone. Who was I going to tell? So I quit. After nine years in the force, I quit. Most of the guys were disappointed, they told me I could've rose up in the ranks. Maybe that's true, but what's the point in gaining rank when the force isn't doing what it should?
But there was one person on the force who understood. Misha Praskovia. She was my partner for a few years, and I'm not going to lie, she was hot and she sounded so cute when she talked with that Russian accent and I was attracted to her, but I never did anything when I was on the force. Damn me for being such a good boy. Heh. But the thing I like most about her was that she and I were on the same wavelength. We wanted to get the criminals off the streets. And when I quit, she understood why I did so and respected that. I don't know what it was, but I think that she knew exactly what I was going through, like she had lived it before.
I'm also told that she made sure that I got my parting gift after I left the force and she found a place for me to live, an apartment owned by an escaped Korp Kid named Min-Jee. She's cool, the only thing I really have to do is pay rent on time and not break anything. I still try and help people now. I'm not part of the force anymore, now I take on jobs for people who need the help. Not for free though, nothing is, and I need to make a living. I'm not going to be rich or anything, but I'm making a living and I finally feel like I'm doing that I've always wanted to do when I was a kid.
I left the world of Exitus to a reality I was once familiar with.
My blasphemous act caused the loss of my divine powers almost immediately, but the blood within me was very powerful and impossible to diminish. I was, after all, created in the image of a God. My capacity for miracles dissipated but my military training and physical strength remained. I became more..human. I had devolved - mostly spiritually. But physically, I aged painfully slowly, as if my genetic code refused to let my cells die. I was able to blend in with humanity. While I could understand the lost of my magical powers, I was at least thankful I retained the strength of my body. Over time I knew what it was like to get sick or have muscle soreness with great exertion. I was no longer a chosen of my kind. In fact, now, I was nobody. It took me a very long time to get over this.
The years past.
Time had changed everything around me as my body held together and showed no signs of a normal aging process. This was a blessing and a curse. I formed relationships carefully, and I was able to outlive most others. I watched many loved ones die of old age, while trying to hide the fact I would never do so.
Eventually, the world evolved and soon magic was nothing but something of the past, something told as a fairy tale. Wood and straw was replaced with metal and cold steel. The old races eventually disappeared, as did all of the trappings of that age. Miraculously, I adapted and had to learn new ways to blend it. Once part conqueror, part healer, I decided to take the time to learn to heal others. My days of conquering were over. It was time for a change. I went to school and learned to heal others - but not with spell - with computers, nanites, and cybertechnology. I got implants that enhanced my natural abilities. I began saving lives in a way that this world did it, and I liked it. I would help people now. Not conquer them. These people were full of potential, and I loved them. After school, I got a job as a military medical professional which I did for fifteen years before I met Pierce and quit my job.
Now I was a cyberpunk. I wake up one day and look at my calendar.
WELCOME Chow's Request is an introductory adventure for Carbon 2185 for 1st level Cyberpunks. The adventure will see you guys working for Jackie Chow, a Red Pole in the 16K Triad and the leader of the Washington Street Boys, one of the gang offshoots of the 16K Triad.
INTERNAL AFFAIRS Within each of the larger gangs in San Francisco are smaller gangs who each have their own internal politics and leaders. Typically each lieutenant in a gang (Triads refer to these lieutenants as Red Poles) leads their own gang and has their own rules. It is not uncommon for two smaller gangs within the same larger group to be in conflict with each other, although if it starts to escalate somebody higher up will step in. In this adventure, Jackie Chow's Washington Street Boys are in conflict with a fellow 16K Triad gang called Wan Chai Warriors.
HOOKS What is the reason you're working for Jackie on this mission? Are you indebted to the Washington Street Boys and Jackie owns you until you pay off your debt? Or perhaps ever since you were a kid you looked up to the gangsters of the 16K Triad. They were the coolest cats in town and you wanted to be just like them. Now could be your chance. Or maybe you grew up in Chinatown with Jackie, and now you're back in the city and find out he's some big time gangster? Perhaps you're an undercover law enforcement officer investigating the notoriously untrusting 16K Triad. Maybe all you care about is the Wonlongs. Cold hard cash.
*16K TRIAD -The 16K Triad is a cantonese gang that has influence in all the 5 districts of San Francisco. The focus on assassination, drugs, extortion, gambling, loan sharking, protection, prostitution, and money laundering. The gang is relatively new to San Francisco even if it is perhaps the oldest gang the in world. The 16Ks engage in a wealth of activities both within the city borders and out into the badlands, from scamming city residents, to the creation of powerful narcotics, they'll murder anyone who stands against them. They are dangerous business.
CHOW'S REQUEST - A CARBON 2185 INTRO ADVENTURE
In a popular dive bar in Chinatown called the Gweilo, the always well dressed and pompadoured Jackie Chow made you an offer that was hard to refuse. Simply retrieve some of his stolen property from the Wan Chai Warriors and get a sweet 100,000W payout. He never specified exactly what was stolen, but insisted "you will know it when you see it." You've arrived on the 15th floor of the apartment block where the Wan Chai Warriors' hideout is located. Looking down at the scibbled directions Jackie gave on the back of a dirty napkin: 'Floor 15, apartment 15B, two guards outside door'"
The elevator door opens up onto a depressing hallway illuminated only by the holographic advertisements outside shining in through the cracked and broken windows. Bare concrete walls are partially crumbling in places and covered with graffiti. Two apartment doors lead off of this corridor, the furthest of which is guarded by two men wearing baggy clothes with faces full of chrome and old fashioned pistols hanging on their belts.
North is a big man, standing over 6ft tall, and with a strong build and handsome face, it would be hard enough to go unnoticed by most people. However, this was before someone took into account his very out of place attire. Donning a large, dark leather jacket, similar leather boots with metal spurs, and a large worn-down cowboy hat, North looked like a cowboy from an old western movie, minus the horse. Pulling a cig out of his mouth that was mostly burnt down, he dropped it and snuffed it out with his toe. He looked to the two guards, then to the rest of his posse. Deciding to be a abiding gentleman, he blew out the smoke in his lungs to the side and waited for them to think on what to do a moment. He himself was inclined to just walk through the front door.
Even though Misha had the body of a chiseled amazonian athlete, there was indeed a time she used her muscles for fighting and conquering. But this was a different age, a different time - so she used her mind to heal others now instead of beating the crap out of people. She did that for about 15 years until she quit and joined up with Pierce. Now she still heals but also beats the crap out of people.
While an emergency medical professional, it was not too uncommon that Misha patched up many of the Washington Street Boys. Sure they're wink at her, and hit on her, and ask her to flex, but she was always pleasant and never got on their bad side. So, when the day came and she was unemployed, she answered Jackie's request.
After all, 100,000W was a lot of money. So when the elevator opened and she saw the two Wan Chai thugs down the hall, she made sure her vibroknives were where she left them, holstered to her back underneath her leather jacket. Misha was a hands on woman. So, she rarely carried or used a gun unless she had to. She knew exactly where to gut you too, where you were softest, weakest, and knew anatomy in a scary degree.
The good news is - if you got all ****ed up, she'd patch you up with some of that amazing bedside manner.
Pierce is 6ft tall, wearing a blue button-up under a long blue coat. His hair was slicked back in the middle with a fade cut going on at the sides. There were a few gray hairs in his hair and beard. "That's what a decade on the force got me." He would say whenever someone cracked a joke about it. His eyes were a pale shade of blue, which made him look colder than he actually was. Unless you were a scumbag or someone trying to hurt his friends. Then he was cold as ice. He didn't enjoy working with the 16K Triad, but this gave him a chance to investigate them from the inside, and as Misha mentioned, he could always use the Wonlongs. "So, we going in the front, ladies?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
"Depends eef you weesh to do eet from the bek."she joked, sexually. Misha knew Pierce well. She knew she could get away with such a comment and at best he would laugh.
Misha had an accent that sounded like she was from Russia, which is where she claimed to come from, but there was something off about her that indicated it wasn't completely so, but, she stuck to her story, and to be honest, no one had the balls to disagree with her - not with those eyes, that smile, and those biceps.
Here's a map of the hallway. The elevator you just stepped out of is on the right (the red square). You look down a long apartment corridor. To the left is a long open balcony where you can see the street and the city. Along the right wall are two doors. The first door says 15A. The second door must be 15B, and there's two gang members standing lazily by the door.
(Don't progress ahead until Cher is ready, but you can continue to roleplay. I'm just setting the scene.)
"You know, if we were still working our old jobs, you'd get called up to HR for saying that." Pierce jokes. "But I'd also be in there too for saying that I'm more of a boob guy than an ass guy anyway."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Min Jee glanced up briefly from her gameboy when the elevator doors opened, the hacker slowly following behind the group, a little too engrossed in the game she was playing currently. She was petite and small, standing at a solid 5'2'', completely dwarfed by the giants beside her, but they knew her well enough to know that despite her size she could pack a punch and make your life a living hell with all her hacking knowledge. When they began to approach the guards, she saves her game and puts the device away in her pocket, dark brown eyes looking between the group before sighing. "So ,you guys are gonna let the shrimp lead or-- Ya know what, **** it, whatever."
She approaches the guards with a confident stride in her step, hands at her hips and says to them, "We're here to see the boss man."
Min Jee (she is also 500% wearing this outfit too):
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
"Sure, I'll talk to em."she whispers back, then calls out. "Hey boys! Take eet easy, now. We just wanted to know who ordered the supreme pizza weeth anchovies. Oh, no wait. ****. Wrong job!"
Misha suddenly crouched, whipping out her vibroknives - that was the signal for Pierce to fire, hoping to provide the distraction needed to let him get in a good shot.
Initiative: 9 WanChaiRat1: 18 WanChaiRat2: 16
The thick concrete walls of the corridor and heavy metal apartment doors will muffle any sounds of combat that occur out here.
Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
CARBON 2185 - A CYBERPUNK CHRONICLE
WHEN ARE WE?
All adventures in Carbon take place in the year 2185, in the sprawling city of San Francisco and tell stories of the people who live there, and the Megacorporations that control it.
CYBERNETICS AND AUGMENTATIONS
Everybody has some kind of cybernetic enhancement, more commonly known as an augmentation. The most common augmentation is a "neurolink", a type of organic computer wired into the user's brain - usually at birth. A neurolink allows the user to directly interface with computers and data and is used for everything from online shopping, to ordering food from a menu at a restaurant, to checking your own vital signs. Other common augmentations include new mechanical limbs for manual laborers, enhanced eyes for surgeons, or even mechanical livers so you drink as much as you'd like.
POLLUTION
Due to environmental collapse, and the radiation leakage from power cells, the world is heavily polluted. Many cities have air filters atop building that keep the pollution at livable levels, although on bad days even the cleanest of cities have visibility of less than one hundred feet. The areas outside of cities are heavily polluted, and no somewhere you can spend any extended amount of time without suffering serious health issues.
MEGACORPORATION
The world is essentially run by megacorporations, with actual governments serving as little more than figureheads. The megacorporations constantly fight among themselves for more power and control.
LAW ENFORCEMENT
The governments of the world do very little, but one area they still control is law enforcement. The world is more violent than ever, and the law is no exception to this trend. Most law enforcement shoot first and ask questions later. Don't expect to negotiate with the police.
ECONOMY
The top 0.5% of the world controls everything, with the majority of the population in constant and never-ending dept. You are expected to work 10 hours a day, 30 days a month in 2185. You sign up for a job with a standard five-year contract and get paid at the end of it. Most people run a five-year line of credit during this time, hoping their paycheck is enough at the end of it to clear their debts.
CURRENCY
The world runs on a secure, decentralized cryptocurrency called wonlongs (W). This un-hackable currency replaced traditional currencies following the manufactured collapse of the banking sector. Wonlongs can be found on physical credit chips or are transferred directly into your account. Many people opt to have interface chips in their fingers or thumb to allow them to scan their fingerprint to make purchases.
All player characters in Carbon 2185 are called Cyberpunks. The good news is, if you've played DnD 5th edition, we use the same rules. There are a few minor tweaks however.
STEP ONE:
Ability Scores: Str, Dex, Con, Int, Technology(Tec), People, (Peo). Roll 2d6 + 5 for each stat, or here's the array: 16,14,13,12,10,9. Keep them handy, we'll apply them soon.
STEP TWO:
Origin: This is your "race" like in DnD. Badlander (Think Mad Max), Gutter Punk (a gang member), Korporate Kid (A child killer raised by a Megacorp), Regular Joe (A customizable typical working citizen), Synth (an android, think Agent K from Blade Runner 2), Wormer (A human born on an offworld colony)
STEP THREE:
Vice: Roll 1d100 and find out your vice, a role playing opportunity that shows how no one is perfect.
STEP FOUR:
Apply your ability scores and alter them based on your Origin.
STEP FIVE:
Background and Age: What did you do before you became a cyberpunk? How old are you? This will further modify and flesh out your character. (Think backgrounds from DnD)
STEP SIX:
Class: Daimyo (Barbarian), Doc (Healer), Enforcer (Fighter), Hacker (Tech/Offheals), Investigator (Ranger), Scoundrel (Rogue). Each one has their pros and cons.
STEP SEVEN:
Just like in DnD, figure out your proficiency numbers and saving throw proficiencies. Then, like in DnD 3.5, figure out your Fortitude, Reflex, and Mind saving throws.
STEP EIGHT:
Buy your gear and weapons!
STEP NINE:
Choose a name. You're done!
PROLOGUE 1 - MISHA
"A CHANGING FAITH"
THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO
(Due to the age of this fable, the events depicted in this tale may or may not be fictitious.)
I have turned against my brethren and entered a fate that cannot be altered. My existence has become a granule glowing among the blackness of a lost world, and the life I once knew is but a tragedy of my decomposition. I am an Acheronian - created on a plane within the multiverse long ago. I have revered my kind, respected them, followed them. I have performed their rituals and joined in their song. I have been loyal to them and laid down my life for them. They have made me strong and they have protected me in my weakness. But now I see and understand the horrific influence they carry and the authority they frivolously surrender to the worst of evils. I never thought I would ever feel this way, and now, after what I have done, there is no escape.
My treason is not a simple matter, so let me tell of its birth.
Since time immemorial Acheronians, in the name of Bane - the Lord General, have conquered many worlds among the stars of the cosmos. Hundreds of years ago, I was sent from my world to others, destroying the Legions of Hell where their influence was felt. Through promotion, I ascended higher in the War Machine and eventually joined the ranks of those that would not just rule armies, but the worlds we conquered. The subjugated kingdoms of Exitus rejoiced upon the arrival of my kind. I, along with three other of my kind, were the ones that ruled this world's indigenous people and it's resources. The four of us arrived at the Temple of Steel with a large, congealing mass of followers, shouting and hollering in cacophonous approval at our heels. We were gods among mortals. We were overwhelmed and followed by a sizable welcoming party, which only grew larger as we walked down the main road through the busy marketplace. When we stepped through the grand doors of the temple and entered the magnificent sanctuary, the cheering of the crowds ceased. At the center of the temple resided the altar. Stains of different bloods and fluids saturated the floor beneath the altar. The gradient of color was vivid at the peak of the mountain and faded towards the base.
This was the scene that triggered the first occurrence of dissonance within me for the very first time in my life. As if from a subtle nudge, my heart twisted slightly, an awful division within the gut of my soul. The fetid aroma of the temple then encroached upon my senses and amplified the sensation. My Acheronian brothers were not affected by any such nuances and remained within their usual calmness. The priest of the Almighty of War welcomed us at the base of the ascending altar. Words of approval left his lips. The priest ascended the steps of the altar's mountain and was met at its peak by a hooded cleric holding a newborn. With the newborn transferred into his hand, the priest produced a very thin knife and stuck it swiftly in the newborn's neck, and just as swiftly, retrieved it. The infant screamed briefly, and was then placed on the ground. It fell to its side. Blood began pooling about it and seeping down the sides of the stairs.
"May the tides of the Almighty of War wash upon us and cleanse us." spoke the priest. We bowed our heads and left the temple. As soon as we exited the Temple of Steel, the crowds awaiting us outside erupted into roaring cheers. In the later hours of the next morning, after most had retreated to the sanctuary of their homes, I wandered the streets of Exitus. Along the sides of the roads, debris from the festivities lay about: flags were spread in tattered disarray, empty mugs of ale rolled around, and pieces of meat and blood splattered most surfaced. A small crowd still followed me, celebrating continuously until they could no more, but I paid them no attention. My mind was already growing deep into its new and foreign disgust, the revolution within me was even further underway. I had walked for close to an hour before I heard cheering and screaming not far from my location. With no agenda, I made my way in the direction of the sounds.
When I came upon the source of the excitement, I was horribly surprised. A small circle of people had formed in the center of the road and Vyacheslav, one of the four Acheronians sent to rule with us, was in the middle. At his feet lay the remains of at least four children, their limbs sliced clean from their bodies. He held a girl who had already lost her arm. Blood coated her clothing and skin, and her breathing was beyond fatigued and full of terror. She tried to scream, but she could not. The crowd watching chanted at the Acheronian and the girl, yelling different prayers relentlessly:
"May the tides bring me safe travel!"
"May the tides give me fortune!"
"May the tides heal my wife!"
Vyacheslav, in return, proclaimed, "The Almighty of War hears your plea!" before slitting the girl's throat and letting her fall to the ground. The rejoicing heightened.
When my eyes began to pulsate with repulsion and hate, I at once realized that I could not bear the existence of such sickening debauchery any longer. Such acts were not meant to occur and life was never meant to be degraded and mutilated in such a grotesque manner - let alone, I suddenly realized, in any manner. My mind warped and fluctuated. My consciousness rippled with new awareness. The nerves beneath my flesh fired and sent uneasiness throughout me. There was no explanation of my change, there was no way to isolate or define it. All I could do was believe that the world had reached a threshold from which it could continue no longer, and that I had been chosen to reconcile it.
The clip on my belt snapped loose and I gripped my sword in my hand.
"What do you ask from the Almighty of War? What geefts do you weesh to receive!" Vyacheslav shouted to the crowd.
"<There weel be no more sacrifices!>" I challenged in a voice full of rage.
"<You oppose, Mischa?>" asked Vyacheslav. "<Do you weesh me to deprive thees people of their blessings?>" The crowd condemned me with expressions of disfavor.
"<Eef the only way those blessings can be geeven ees through thees children's lives, then yes, I do weesh to deprive them.>" I answered.
Vyacheslav started into a laugh of hideous degree and raised his sword to begin his ritualistic carnage regardless of my request. But, before he could swing it, the crowd gasped at the sight of my sword blade slicing deep into his head. I yanked my sword free and plunged my blade into his chest. "<I told you there would be no more!>" I declared. "<Eet was not up to you to decide!>" I screamed, and slowly turned to the crowd. "Go home! Go home!" At first slowly, but then rather quickly, the people turned and disappeared into the dark. I was left alone with Vyacheslav.
"<Look at what you hef done, Mischa. You weel not stop our ways with thees people.>" Vyacheslav said, even as the pain of his wounds coursed through him and wearied him. "<The Lord General weel not like to hear of what you hef done. Eet will be a pity to see you keeled where you stand.>"
"<That weel be their issue to discuss, but you weel not be the one to tell them.>" I responded, my voice quaking in rage. Tears burned my eyes. I felt like I was about to erupt in unbridled violence, or cry in anguish and sadness. I brought my sword up swiftly and decapitated him, changing my destiny forever more.
Before the sun had begun its ascent the next morning, I had left the boundaries of the city, passing through the gates to the north and leaving before word of my treachery had been borne to the Temple, and to Acheron.
PROLOGUE 2 - PIERCE
MISHA 2
I left the world of Exitus to a reality I was once familiar with.
My blasphemous act caused the loss of my divine powers almost immediately, but the blood within me was very powerful and impossible to diminish. I was, after all, created in the image of a God. My capacity for miracles dissipated but my military training and physical strength remained. I became more..human. I had devolved - mostly spiritually. But physically, I aged painfully slowly, as if my genetic code refused to let my cells die. I was able to blend in with humanity. While I could understand the lost of my magical powers, I was at least thankful I retained the strength of my body. Over time I knew what it was like to get sick or have muscle soreness with great exertion. I was no longer a chosen of my kind. In fact, now, I was nobody. It took me a very long time to get over this.
The years past.
Time had changed everything around me as my body held together and showed no signs of a normal aging process. This was a blessing and a curse. I formed relationships carefully, and I was able to outlive most others. I watched many loved ones die of old age, while trying to hide the fact I would never do so.
Eventually, the world evolved and soon magic was nothing but something of the past, something told as a fairy tale. Wood and straw was replaced with metal and cold steel. The old races eventually disappeared, as did all of the trappings of that age. Miraculously, I adapted and had to learn new ways to blend it. Once part conqueror, part healer, I decided to take the time to learn to heal others. My days of conquering were over. It was time for a change. I went to school and learned to heal others - but not with spell - with computers, nanites, and cybertechnology. I got implants that enhanced my natural abilities. I began saving lives in a way that this world did it, and I liked it. I would help people now. Not conquer them. These people were full of potential, and I loved them. After school, I got a job as a military medical professional which I did for fifteen years before I met Pierce and quit my job.
Now I was a cyberpunk. I wake up one day and look at my calendar.
November 10, 2185.
WELCOME
Chow's Request is an introductory adventure for Carbon 2185 for 1st level Cyberpunks. The adventure will see you guys working for Jackie Chow, a Red Pole in the 16K Triad and the leader of the Washington Street Boys, one of the gang offshoots of the 16K Triad.
INTERNAL AFFAIRS
Within each of the larger gangs in San Francisco are smaller gangs who each have their own internal politics and leaders. Typically each lieutenant in a gang (Triads refer to these lieutenants as Red Poles) leads their own gang and has their own rules. It is not uncommon for two smaller gangs within the same larger group to be in conflict with each other, although if it starts to escalate somebody higher up will step in. In this adventure, Jackie Chow's Washington Street Boys are in conflict with a fellow 16K Triad gang called Wan Chai Warriors.
HOOKS
What is the reason you're working for Jackie on this mission? Are you indebted to the Washington Street Boys and Jackie owns you until you pay off your debt? Or perhaps ever since you were a kid you looked up to the gangsters of the 16K Triad. They were the coolest cats in town and you wanted to be just like them. Now could be your chance. Or maybe you grew up in Chinatown with Jackie, and now you're back in the city and find out he's some big time gangster? Perhaps you're an undercover law enforcement officer investigating the notoriously untrusting 16K Triad. Maybe all you care about is the Wonlongs. Cold hard cash.
*16K TRIAD - The 16K Triad is a cantonese gang that has influence in all the 5 districts of San Francisco. The focus on assassination, drugs, extortion, gambling, loan sharking, protection, prostitution, and money laundering. The gang is relatively new to San Francisco even if it is perhaps the oldest gang the in world. The 16Ks engage in a wealth of activities both within the city borders and out into the badlands, from scamming city residents, to the creation of powerful narcotics, they'll murder anyone who stands against them. They are dangerous business.
CHOW'S REQUEST - A CARBON 2185 INTRO ADVENTURE
In a popular dive bar in Chinatown called the Gweilo, the always well dressed and pompadoured Jackie Chow made you an offer that was hard to refuse. Simply retrieve some of his stolen property from the Wan Chai Warriors and get a sweet 100,000W payout. He never specified exactly what was stolen, but insisted "you will know it when you see it." You've arrived on the 15th floor of the apartment block where the Wan Chai Warriors' hideout is located. Looking down at the scibbled directions Jackie gave on the back of a dirty napkin: 'Floor 15, apartment 15B, two guards outside door'"
The elevator door opens up onto a depressing hallway illuminated only by the holographic advertisements outside shining in through the cracked and broken windows. Bare concrete walls are partially crumbling in places and covered with graffiti. Two apartment doors lead off of this corridor, the furthest of which is guarded by two men wearing baggy clothes with faces full of chrome and old fashioned pistols hanging on their belts.
North is a big man, standing over 6ft tall, and with a strong build and handsome face, it would be hard enough to go unnoticed by most people. However, this was before someone took into account his very out of place attire. Donning a large, dark leather jacket, similar leather boots with metal spurs, and a large worn-down cowboy hat, North looked like a cowboy from an old western movie, minus the horse. Pulling a cig out of his mouth that was mostly burnt down, he dropped it and snuffed it out with his toe. He looked to the two guards, then to the rest of his posse. Deciding to be a abiding gentleman, he blew out the smoke in his lungs to the side and waited for them to think on what to do a moment. He himself was inclined to just walk through the front door.
Even though Misha had the body of a chiseled amazonian athlete, there was indeed a time she used her muscles for fighting and conquering. But this was a different age, a different time - so she used her mind to heal others now instead of beating the crap out of people. She did that for about 15 years until she quit and joined up with Pierce. Now she still heals but also beats the crap out of people.
While an emergency medical professional, it was not too uncommon that Misha patched up many of the Washington Street Boys. Sure they're wink at her, and hit on her, and ask her to flex, but she was always pleasant and never got on their bad side. So, when the day came and she was unemployed, she answered Jackie's request.
After all, 100,000W was a lot of money. So when the elevator opened and she saw the two Wan Chai thugs down the hall, she made sure her vibroknives were where she left them, holstered to her back underneath her leather jacket. Misha was a hands on woman. So, she rarely carried or used a gun unless she had to. She knew exactly where to gut you too, where you were softest, weakest, and knew anatomy in a scary degree.
The good news is - if you got all ****ed up, she'd patch you up with some of that amazing bedside manner.
Pierce is 6ft tall, wearing a blue button-up under a long blue coat. His hair was slicked back in the middle with a fade cut going on at the sides. There were a few gray hairs in his hair and beard. "That's what a decade on the force got me." He would say whenever someone cracked a joke about it. His eyes were a pale shade of blue, which made him look colder than he actually was. Unless you were a scumbag or someone trying to hurt his friends. Then he was cold as ice. He didn't enjoy working with the 16K Triad, but this gave him a chance to investigate them from the inside, and as Misha mentioned, he could always use the Wonlongs. "So, we going in the front, ladies?"
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"Depends eef you weesh to do eet from the bek." she joked, sexually. Misha knew Pierce well. She knew she could get away with such a comment and at best he would laugh.
Misha had an accent that sounded like she was from Russia, which is where she claimed to come from, but there was something off about her that indicated it wasn't completely so, but, she stuck to her story, and to be honest, no one had the balls to disagree with her - not with those eyes, that smile, and those biceps.
Here's a map of the hallway. The elevator you just stepped out of is on the right (the red square). You look down a long apartment corridor. To the left is a long open balcony where you can see the street and the city. Along the right wall are two doors. The first door says 15A. The second door must be 15B, and there's two gang members standing lazily by the door.
(Don't progress ahead until Cher is ready, but you can continue to roleplay. I'm just setting the scene.)
"You know, if we were still working our old jobs, you'd get called up to HR for saying that." Pierce jokes. "But I'd also be in there too for saying that I'm more of a boob guy than an ass guy anyway."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"Ha!" Misha barks, "Good theeng then we are not at our old jobs today, ah? But ees ok, Misha ees used to getting een trouble. No beeg deel!"
Min Jee glanced up briefly from her gameboy when the elevator doors opened, the hacker slowly following behind the group, a little too engrossed in the game she was playing currently. She was petite and small, standing at a solid 5'2'', completely dwarfed by the giants beside her, but they knew her well enough to know that despite her size she could pack a punch and make your life a living hell with all her hacking knowledge. When they began to approach the guards, she saves her game and puts the device away in her pocket, dark brown eyes looking between the group before sighing. "So ,you guys are gonna let the shrimp lead or-- Ya know what, **** it, whatever."
She approaches the guards with a confident stride in her step, hands at her hips and says to them, "We're here to see the boss man."
Min Jee (she is also 500% wearing this outfit too):
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
The two guards snap out of their lazy guard watch and hold up a hand at you as Min-Jee spoke.
"Hey!" one of them says. "Who the **** are you guys?"
They have their hand on their guns. They look very nervous and are about to open fire at the slightest jerky movement.
Pierce looks to Misha and whispers. "Should I blast these guys or can you talk to them?"
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"Sure, I'll talk to em." she whispers back, then calls out. "Hey boys! Take eet easy, now. We just wanted to know who ordered the supreme pizza weeth anchovies. Oh, no wait. ****. Wrong job!"
Misha suddenly crouched, whipping out her vibroknives - that was the signal for Pierce to fire, hoping to provide the distraction needed to let him get in a good shot.
Initiative: 9
WanChaiRat1: 18
WanChaiRat2: 16
The thick concrete walls of the corridor and heavy metal apartment doors will muffle any sounds of combat that occur out here.
Min Jee facepalms and sighs, muttering something in Korean under her breath. She gets out her pink heavy pistol and gets ready for a fight.
Hello Kitty initiative: 2
or not
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
Your gun clatters loudly on the floor, completely slipping out of your hands and making you look extremely clumsy.
Misha"YesIWeel"18, WanChaiRat10, WanChaiRat5, Min"willyoueatmya$$"BootyShortsJee1
Pierce: 11
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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