Summer Crossroads - DFW Metaplex

Is that a Hummer? No...Think it's a Jag

W hotel sign m

Session One

It’s a normal evening in DFW. Downtown Dallas is nice and quiet under a clear October sky. The air is a little crisp, surprising given the oven-like heat that gripped the city for months. Last time that kind of heat happened was in the 1800’s. We won’t even go there. Suffice it to say, while the mortals were sweating it out, the Never-Never was doing the same. A bargain had been made…somewhere…and Summer grabbed a whole heap of power.

The heat is still on however in an exlcusive suite at the W Hotel. Anita sits beside a fancy oak gaming table staring at yet another solid pair. It’s good, not too good, but the river doesn’t concern her – it’s been diverted.

She’d give Lucian a nice big smile if she could. She doesn’t want to tip off the mark, but the way he’s eyeing Darryl Morrison he may not even notice. Lucian’s working out quite nicely. She never even saw the cards switch hands and isn’t quite sure how he’d pulled it off. Her dad would call it parlor tricks, but if it gets her money, it gets her money. Darryl Morrison on the other hand. Well. She’ll just have to see. He’s got his uses but damn if he isn’t a creepy son of a bitch.

There’s a knock at the door. Anita knows she’s got Bastion at the door. She hears bits and pieces of conversation at the door. Bastion’s deep growling voice asking “Doctor who?” She apprehensively listens for the sound of breaking bones and is relieved when he comes back into the room.

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Jaguar, Well Done

Jag attack

Session Two

Marion stepped out of the American Airlines center into a brisk October evening. The Circus was in town and no matter the location – downtown Dallas or eastern Europe, these were always her kind of people. A gypsy with a checkered past, Marion was always on the look-out for fellow wandering souls. She’d share stories from the road, swap tidbits of information and keep a sharp eye out for anyone with Talent.

Marion enjoyed helping these lost souls, especially those with the arcane gifts. Teaching what she knew of the Art was something of a hobby of hers. Nothing formal – mostly tidbits cobbled together from her own life on the road, but she found many of the talents she ran into knew very little about what they were actually capable of doing.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp crack of gunfire out in the street. Rushing to the edge of the courtyard, Marion set eyes on a scene which could have played out in one of the three rings she had just left behind. Mid street stood a massive bear (Bastion) swiping furiously at a pair of jaguars that danced nimbly around his massive form.

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Catching the Scent

Session Three – Part One

Skire awoke with a start. He felt cold, exhausted and the bright lights around him forced him to squint as he tried to looked around. He took in a deep breath and simultaneously winced with pain as the purified air instantly tickled the back of his throat sending him into a coughing fit. He leaned forward, tasting a little blood.

Where the hell was he? Clean air and pretty quiet aside from some incessant beeping noise. He tried to get pull his thoughts together to figure out what had happened. He wasn’t at home (his house had a more “mellow” odor) and forget about incessant beeping – that would last under his roof. And the bright lights…yeah, no, not at the casa de Skire. His lava lamp just didn’t have that kind of wattage.

He’d remembered he’d smoked a bit yesterday morning, well, when he got out of bed that is. He’s sure he would have smoked again when he left the house but he had forgotten his lighter and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get the well-used cigarette lighter in his car to work (funny thing, not much in his car did work). He wasn’t worried cause he new he could grab some matches at the hotel when he got there…

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Ring of Fire

Session Three – Part Two

Mustang waited patiently in the shadows of the hallway…well, what shadows were to be had. The fluorescent lighting and rather modern office feel to the interior left little in the way of cover. Sleek straight lines along hallways broken only by the occasional office door of dark wood. The more elaborate office doors were flanked by tall panes of frosted glass.

So far, some Professor had crashed their poker game to speak to a professor about some other missing professor. Some sort of convoluted mess that generally wasn’t his thing. Mustang liked to keep a low profile and this group had been anything but. Still, a man was dead and some greater evil brewing so he couldn’t just leave it alone.

Hard charger, that’s what his CO had called him in Afghanistan. Injustice, on both sides, was a daily occurrence in a war zone and not much had set well with him. Mustang always had the urge to get in the middle of it all, despite any reservations. His CO had always shrugged and told him that it gets you one of two things – a medal or a ride home in a flag draped casket.

Skire and Marion were searching through Professor what’s-his-name’s office a floor below, while Anita and Lucian searched Professor Donald’s office just down the hall. Mustang was sure they were getting mixed up in something pretty bad – just that feeling you get, you know, when an incoming mortar is whistling just a bit too close.

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Bob the Builder

Session Four

I’m taking a slightly different track on this session log. I’ve been using the perspective of our various PCs but this time I’ll go “behind the scenes” with a GM run down. It may have been the dreary weather, or the assortment of electronic devices cluttering the table, but people seemed to be having trouble finding a way to approach the story this last time.

I’m not really a good “driver’s seat” GM where I just throw you on the train and toot my horn – I need a bit more dynamic with the players so it means I have to make sure I’m engaging everyone and I wasn’t quite feelin’ it last time. I think part of it is the long break we had and also the shiny new rules system. I know I felt a bit rusty with the ruleset when I sat down.

If there is a weakness to the system though, I think it is the constant negotiation for even little things like get a bonus for knocking someone on their ass. At times, it makes me miss the cut and dry simulationist rules like in DnD which can get too detailed at times, but are explicit in their effects.

At the start we had a new PC to integrate, Viveca Singh(I’ll either need to get the character sheet or get Madie online to update it! I need Aspects!) She made it easy with an Epic (+7) investigation roll after a visit from Professor Where. With that she was able to get a very good big picture about the PCs which even the cops, wardens, and other interested factions (ahem) had not quite pieced together. It took a little bit to get her directly involved, but the stage was set.

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Professor Where sheds some Light

Professor where

Interlude

I wrote another quick story, actually a dialogue between Viveca and Professor Where to shed some more light on the campaign background. I believe Viveca said she called the Professor and we sort of glossed over it at the time, but it turned out there was an interesting conversation to be had, so here it is. I hope you guys don’t mind my borrowing your carefully crafted personas for some supporting fiction. I won’t do it often, only if I feel we missed soemthing that could help push the game along and get you guys more involved!

In fact, I’m doing it in part because I’d love for you guys to do the same. Writing up session logs from your character perspective would be cool (I just try to add the flavor of what I’m feeling about your PC, but only you can do it right!)

The Divergence

You can also read the Summary / Aspects about this arcane mystery in the Wiki under Denton

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Campaign Recap as of 1-7-2012

Way late posting this but I am bringing it as a handout for the game! Bryan (Mustang) has provided us with a recap that has an interesting perspective….

Somewhere in a dark room, 2 chairs sit at a table, lit by a warm fireplace. Light glimmers off of a bottle of liquor where fingers have marred the dust. A pair of crystal glasses break the light into shattered pieces of a fallen rainbow, cascading against a nearby wall. A breeze dances across the room, gently carrying a hint of aged wood.

Two people step out of the darkness, from opposite sides of the light, and after a wary evaluation, they sit down and smile at each other. Although the room stays extremely dark, neither seem to have any trouble seeing to reach for the glasses, fill them, and raise them toward each other silently. Only after the first taste, do they start to talk in low tones.

“How’s your project going?” says one, in a female voice with a middle eastern accent. As she shifts her legs, her cloak falls away from a sword hanging on her side.

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Oscar Meyer-geddon
Game Recap 1-7-2012

Hotdogman1

Session Five

Oh, Quetzalcoatl, great winged serpent of the sun, boundary of the earth and sky, god of the four winds, lord of our very breath, and creator of man. I, Tlatoani beseech your forgiveness for my failures. For years I labored to free you from your earthly prison. To reach into the earth and pull your winged majesty free so you could soar again among the skies and bring death to the those that bleed your life through earthen shafts.

I have made sacrifces unto you like no other time. I pulled forth the heart of many honored men and women who screamed in terror at the mere hint of your presence. I have spilled the blood to free you even as the ignorant sacrifices lamented their role. All the while knowing that if they but could see your glory they would, like my ancestors, gladly have torn their own beating heart from their chest and laid it upon your fires.

For months I labored on the great edifice which in the material world is called “Apogee Stadum”, the blood and heart of your sacrifices made one with the structure. Built directly above your slumbering form between the sundered leylines. The final key, the ceremony of power, was to be a game in your honor where the strongest of compeitiors would have his heart removed and given up for a final sacrifice.

But alas, I have failed. I have been undone by an unholy golem of fetid flesh and a circus of lesser beings.

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Green Gas, Pea Soup, It's All the Same

Exorcist soup

As told by Mustang

Some days, it just doesn’t pay to try to save the world. So, there was a rampaging horde of renegade meat products, a lot of darkness, and then things really got busy. When I tapped in to bleed off the energy of the Aztec ritual, using it to light up the stadium to keep people from trampling each other, I expected to get burned to a cinder, or just blasted to nothing. Not to become part of a committee. And that, kids, is why we don’t play with magic: even certain death doesn’t go as expected. Imagine being one voice of many, all arguing, vying for control of your body. Talk about frustrating. Worse, your suggestions that being the main character in a ritual sacrifice is a bad idea being lost in the maelstrom of voices, and nobody being able to get control of the body.

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Should have called Priceline

Gnome01
As told by Lucian

The first rule of Faery club is Never Make a Deal with a %@*^# Faery!
Even when you think you have the upperhand, and especially when you don’t.

After finally getting the Tlatoani monkey off our back, or Mustangand Bastion in what i can only hope was a fit of insanity, Anita agreed to an open ended contract with this Dian Cecht character from the Never Never.

Now in exchange for his Dr. McCoy act on Bastion , we’re stuck playing Daniel Boone to some forsaken wastelend in the Never Never on the other side of the world. On top of that, someone get’s to babysit his pet; Simon Harverd

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