ipossu

Fantasy RPG world fails Compiled only with love, of course. Unfortified villages are snacks for monsters! The generic game world of the standard fantasy RPG is ridiculously dangerous. One bear is dangerous... A flying, fire-breathing, magic wielding, super-intelligent lizard is apocalyptic! And there is an intelligent and malevolent threat every step of the way: kobold, goblin, orc, hobgoblin, troll, giant, and dragon. In addition there are intelligent predators in the sea, in the air, in the ground, in the various dimensions or planes of existence (that regularly spill over to the world), etc. Therefore it's insane that almost without exce

Hardly Working: a Shadowrun TaleThe Trainee (not "doing the Legwork") It's amazing what a barge-load of nuyen can do. The local Ares University (no, I'm not naming names) had built a fake street just so that the squeaky clean frat boys could freerun safely. And they were certainly doing that with panache. Three groups of perfect poster boys were making their way through the course. All tall, handsome, and fit. It didn't escape me that there were no metahumans nor women among them. This was beginning to feel more like a PR assignment than a real story. "So? What you think?" When I'd arrived to the campus I had to go through entirely too much s

Hardly Working: a Shadowrun tale The Assignment! (definitely not a Meet) "Hey, Bill! Get your ass over here!" That's my editor Jimbo (Scratchy I like to call him). He's not a bad sort, just frustrated. Not enough money in being an editor for a daily rag in Seattle. And marital problems. That's what his messages to the lawyers say anyhow. He's frustrated and poor for the same reason: No talent for sniffing out stories. This is why he's the "Editor for cultural news". I'm his most reliable gofer because I can. Sniff out the stories, that is. I just choose not to, most of the time. I make decent money from the "Culture on the Street" column and

Hardly Working: a Shadowrun talePrelude They punched me too hard. My face feels... numb. Probably permanent nerve damage. At least it gave me this chance to make my last dispatch. I'm faking unconsciousness to do this. The punch toppled the chair I'm tied to so it might look real, too. They've obviously not gotten what they want, so they'll kill me and move on. Hopefully they'll at least leave my body somewhere it can be found. I don't think that my mother cares, but Sharon might. I hope. Anyways... I'm sending Flitter off with this message, and with my location as far as I know it. Maybe she'll get this to you okay so you'll have at least so