Celina cradled the cawfee mug in her hands. It was piping hot, bitter, and performed its task of keeping her awake and alert more than adequately. She wasn't likely to sleep much on this voyage, but at least the cawfee made it easier to stay up. The caravan to Khayr-ad Din had been on the road all day, driving through the dunes and mesas of the Karak Wastes.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Sharpening the Edge
She hated it here. She hated it here, and it made her mad to think that her ten-cycle stay in this honourless, greedy, dystopic city-state had made her sloppy. She scowled as she skulked down the dirty alleyway in the Prospects, looking for the little warehouse.
Posted by Heavy Josh at 10:20 0 comments
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wordslingin'
Having now gone to ground, the PCs totally failed to capture the head of the SRID but instead got a concession prize of a high-ranking terrorist in the BRF. Such is life, I suppose.
Posted by Julie at 23:50 0 comments
Labels: meta
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Art of Spinning
Badlands Caravan Guild
News feed: 28 Spring 1935
Guilders,
Ours is a fraternity. Like any family we have values like hard work and honesty. That’s why you don’t ask more from another Guild member than his word and his hand. It’s from that trust that we have built our business and roam the sands knowing we’re watching each other’s backs. It’s more than just our livelihood; our hearts are in the Badlands.
Posted by Certain Betrayal at 11:36 2 comments
Labels: dispatches
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Good Fight
The spire of the executive tower lanced skywards from the bulk of Peace River, shining in the midday sun like a beacon calling the hopper home. The pilot assured Dr. Chambers that they would be there in 10 minutes.
He had spent most of the flight planning his next actions. There was just one more thing to do before debarkation.
Posted by Certain Betrayal at 22:02 2 comments
Between the Lines, part 2
He was not happy.
To say that things had not gone according to plan would have been an understatement. The blame could be liberally spread around, but Kain reserved a big share for himself.
Posted by Game Thug at 20:08 7 comments
Monday, December 6, 2010
Enjoy your victory Sundra Gabriel
The screen shows the smoke billowing high into the sky, ash grey against the cement background of the second terrace wall rising above. The view jerks and pans. There are still flames, constant fires up high but also rivulets pouring down in spurts. Papers fall like confetti, a ticker-tape parade, a celebration of pandemonium.
Enjoy your victory Sundra Gabriel, enjoy what is left of your short life because I am coming for you.
Posted by Certain Betrayal at 22:10 0 comments
Labels: dispatches , tom
Between the Lines, part 1
It was crazy, even for her, and Maia Kessler would have been the first to admit it.
The hopper's engines thrummed, making the deck under her feet vibrate. She didn't notice. She stared at the email on the screen before her, trying to decide whether it was time to find a psychiatric ward somewhere and have herself committed.
Posted by Julie at 13:37 0 comments
Labels: maia
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Playing for Keeps
28 Spring, TN1935
0700hrs
The Badlands Caravan Guild office did not shut down overnight. Trevin Vemeer had slept there after a very late night, knowing that he'd be working on multiple projects throughout the following day. When he woke that morning he was in a particularly bad mood. At least, he considered, the Doctor and his merry band would be out in Goodland for most of the day playing with Paxton's latest toys. Trevin smiled. He counted each day where he did not have to deal directly with the "Operations" branch of the Guild as a small blessing. A double blessing if Kain Delacroix wasn't involved.
Posted by Heavy Josh at 15:20 0 comments
Pen Pals
From: janus@public.netspace.pr
To: Lukah@sns.com
Date: 28 Spring, TN1935, 06:00
Subject: Peace River professional dueling
Posted by Heavy Josh at 15:20 0 comments
A nose for the news
Helen Luka yawned. It was nearly 11am, and the sun shone brightly as it climbed the sky. She rubbed her eyes and looked out from the stands. The PRDF demonstration range just outside of Goodland was an expansive obstacle course designed to sell the best of Paxton's wares, and Helen had to admit that it was doing its job admirably thus far.
Posted by Heavy Josh at 14:58 0 comments
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wordslingin'
Last night's session involved two interrogations (one more willing than the other) and some gear fightin'. We all came out of it whole, and our principal (Hiro) is still alive, so we may yet live to fight another day! Oh, and for the record, gaming accompanied by fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies is pretty darn close to my idea of bliss.
Posted by Julie at 09:59 0 comments
Labels: meta