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Bottled Demon - Part 1

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Bottled Demon Part 1

      Cassandra Mahotsukai was nervous as she approached Yoshiro’s. She didn’t know why she’d been contacted and sent here by her teachers. Sure, she was good at casting spells, but she wasn’t top of her class at school. Cassie, as she liked to be called, was just another mage trying to survive the sprawl without a SIN. She entered the soft-lit, fair to well restaurant and was led the by the elven waiter to a booth in the corner. As she settled down into the booth, she looked at the other table’s occupants. One had the pelts and beads signifying a shaman, the smell of smoke and spices clinging to him. The points of his ears gave away his elvish heritage. Cassie was seated next to a woman possibly a few years older than her, to be dressed so simply she had to bring a considerable talent to the table. Finally, the trio focused across the table. A short chubby man sat there, his eyes darting about as if hunted. He was keeping his hands under the table for a reason, that much was plain. At last, his mouth opened and his high cracking voice issued.

      “My name is Topal. I require services of bodyguards to escort me to a business meeting tomorrow morning. I called you all because of your individual reputations,” he picked up a menu and scanned it, indicating for the others to do so. A waitress bustled up and Topal rapidly order 3 entrees and 2 desserts. The elf and woman just handed away their menus, not even bothering with drinks. Cassie beamed a little, unaware why the other two were going to waste an opportunity to eat.

      “I want a sundae,” she chirped as she gave the menu to the waitress, who suppressed a smile. The other two gave her a surprised look.

      “What? I like sundaes and I’m hungry.” She just sat there, not caring whatever she did symbolized. The pair just sighed and turned to Topal.

      “What’s the pay?” Asked the woman, getting straight to the financial side of things as Topal pulled a Jawbreaker from his coat and munched on it while waiting for his meals.

      “I can pay you 20,000 Nuyen apiece; I want to make sure I’m safe while the transaction is completed.” Both woman and elf reacted the same, their eyes lighting up. For 20,000 Nuyen, they’d take on Aztech, much less this babysitting job. Cassie’s eyes were big, she’d never seen that much money at once, much less more than needed to get her next meal.

      “I’m in,” the elf said as he lit a pipe.

      “Me too,” the woman quickly agreed

      “Yah, I’m coming too!” Cassie eagerly jumped on the bandwagon as the waitress arrived with her sundae and the first of Topal’s three dinners. He looked slightly relieved they all took his offer.

      “Excellent. After you’re done here, you’ll have until 2:00 Am to prepare. At that time, meet me here and we shall convoy to our meeting place,” His instructions finished, he dug in, none of the “guards” noticing the steel link and chain on his wrist. Cassie crowded the two.

      “Hi I’m Cassie, who’re you two?” The curiosity evident in her voice.

      “Name’s Sifra.” She turned to look at Cassie, who noticed the datajack on Sifra’s temple and the keyboard on a sling. So she was decker, wonder why one of those would be wanted for bodyguarding, Cassie thought for a moment.

      “Talus.” The elf said in between two puffs of smoke.

      “You got a ride kid?” Sifra queried.

      “No.”

      Sifra sighed, “Fine. You’ll ride with me. Pointy over there’s gonna have to find his own ride.” She hiked a thumb towards Talus. He just smiled.

      “Not find, summon.” Sifra just rolled her eyes while Cassie looked at Talus with more wonder. She knew any magically inclined being had a modicum of talent for summoning, but she never did it much herself, it taking too long for her tastes to get even a base elemental conjured. During the exchange, Topal had devoured all the food he ordered and left, leaving his employees to themselves.

      “So…..what do we do now?” Cassie asked the other two.

      “We wait for the Johnson to come back so we can start some shadowrunning.” Sifra replied, settling in for the wait. Cassie saw a clock near the kitchen door, it’s reading a glowing 11.

      “Oh ok. Does this mean we’re shadowrunners now?” She’d always heard about the dangerous mercenaries and their role as pawns in the power games of the megacorps. Sifra gave her a frosty look.

      “No. You think? Now be quiet and eat your Sundae.” She admonished Cassie, who quickly complied. Sifra seemed kinda pushy, but that wasn’t going to stop Cassie.

      *     *     *

Grissim lit another nicostick, turning the events over in his mind. He’d tracked Blackwing to the Snoqualmie Hilton, and took stock of the carnage in the suite. The pocket secretary he found had a bullet hole in it and ballistics matched it up to one that hit one of the dead dandelion eaters in the head. It was a damn near-possible shot to make, but Grissim knew Blackwing had made it, it was his specialty, the trick shots. Still, Grissim wasn’t about to let this lead go, he still had some favors to call in. The decker called him over.

      “Wiz chummer, looks like someone fried this baby bad. I’ve done what I can to patch it, hope it helps.” The rail-thin youth handed Grissim the slightly patched secretary. Grissim nodded and left without a word. Within the confines of the Ares Citymaster he brought with him, surrounded by his riot cops, he opened the last saved file on the secretary. The sound was garbled, and the video static, but he knew from the time it was recording Blackwing’s meeting with the now-dead elves. Suddenly, Grissim caught a small splurge of coherency right before the gunshots. One phrase and it the only one that mattered.

      “Black’s Junk Yard.” Said the recording. He knew the history behind Black’s, infamous fencing location, why would Blackwing be going there? A shady dealing with his employers obviously. Grissim knew he had this case wrapped up tighter than a dragon in scales. He reported back to dispatch, who ensured him another Citymaster would rendevous with him for the sting on Black’s.

“This time Blackwing, your ass is mine.” Grissim allowed himself just enough of a smile to make his subordinates uneasy, Grissim hardly ever smiled. He heard the thrum of the hov engines and fell back into his command chair, yes sir, it was going to be a good night.

*    *     *

Talus put out his pipe and Sifra woke Cassie. The trio headed outside, Sifra going around to the alley while Talus began chanting and humming softly to himself, Cassie recognized the tone of the words, each inflection crackling with magic. The rev of an engine in the alley made Cassie jump. Sifra pulled out on a chrome Yamaha Rapier, gunning the engine again and motioning for Cassie to get on the bike. Cassie clambered on behind Sifra and clung to her back, unsure of the balance. Meanwhile, Talus had finished his incantation, garbage whipping about him finally forming a miniature tornado on top which Talus sat cross-legged.

      “City spirit.” He shouted in explanation to Cassie and Sifra. Another vehicle approached out of the gloom. It was a little Mitsubishi Runabout, and Topal was in the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window.

      “Follow me.” Without another word, he rolled up the window and his car trundled into the night, the runner’s transportation trailing behind. The convoy pulled onto the old highway, passing out of the somewhat bright lights of downtown. Topal made a turn that the two experienced group members almost winced at. This Johnson must’ve been crazy heading into the Puyallup Barrens this late at night. If the squatters didn’t swarm them for handouts, the Go-gangs would apply their own brand of charity to them all.

      “Drek.” Sifra swore as she heard the roar of hogs behind her.

      “Cassie, I want you to carefully turn around and tell me who’s behind us.” Sifra yelled to her charge. Talus appeared to have heard the noise as well and flipped around so he was facing backwards while the spirit kept going forward. Cassie flipped around, shielding her eyes from the lights of the Scorpions following them. About a half dozen to be precise. She saw them arming weapons, thankfully not connected to the bikes. The go-gangers whooped up as much a din as their vehicles, here was some fresh meat they could take down. Cassie closed her eyes, everything but the burning words in her mind fading away. The only way to stop their burning was to say them, but not just say them, they had to be said a certain way. She could feel the energy rushing out of her, leaving itself in a small cloud behind Sifra’s Rapier and flying towards the bikers. Cassie felt her eyelids droops slightly, such was the curse of the mage.

      While they had the ability to wield the energies of Astral space with but a wave of their hands and a few words, there was always a mental tax. There were a few times a magician could get lucky and not be drained by the casting, but these were few and far between. Cassie clung to Sifra somewhat so she didn’t fall off the bike. Meanwhile she surveyed her handiwork. The go-ganger’s bikes swerved and crashed into one another, creating a symphony of steel scraping asphalt. Only one of them managed to maneuver out of the way and continue pursuit. Cassie smiled inwardly, she particularly enjoyed using the Sleep spell, it was the one she was best at. But still, the lone biker wasn’t deterred. Gunfire cut above the engines, whizzing past the runners. It was no easy task to shoot moving targets while maintaining control of a vehicle. Talus reached into his pelts, coming up with two pistols. Cassie couldn’t tell their make from where she sat, but they had to be nice. Talus snapped off two shots at the foe, the bullet separating into a myriad of tiny metal shards. He was using flechette rounds, the term was recalled from some obscure trid Cassie had watched when at the Academy. But knowledge wasn’t much use right now, the shots missed the ganger, it being as difficult for Talus to shoot at her as it was to be shot at from such a distance. But slowly, that distance was shrinking. Deftly keeping one hand on the handlebars and using Cassie to support, Sifra unholstered a large pistol from her hip and took aim. A shot roared from the muzzle, blowing out the front tire of the Scorpion. The ganger probably a split-second of reaction time to brace for the suddenly-nasty ride and if they weren’t cybered up that was likely to not be enough. Cassie winced and the body skidded along the pavement, the bike trailing after. Cassie twisted back around, trying to stay warm and balanced. After no other incidents, they pulled off the highway and followed the ghostly runabout through the streets, finally stopping at their destination. The headlights of Topal’s car bounced off the rusting sign half hanging on the slightly taller posts in a chain link fence surrounding the place which was proclaimed “Black’s Junk Yard.” Sifra parked in an alley near Topal’s runabout while Talus stepped off of the city spirit, the garbage floating to the winds.

      “His service to me was dispatched.” He gave the explanation to Cassie and Sifra as they followed the waddling Topal to the fence, their eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness, Talus the quickest because of the unique elven genetic trait of nightsight. It there was even a hint of light somewhere, an elf could see like it was a sunny day. It was then that Talus noticed the black briefcase chained to Topal’s hand, it was of the standard courier kind, so Talus just shrugged it off; this was a business meeting after all. Topal led his bodyguards to a board by the fence, which he removed and revealed a small tunnel. Amazingly, he was able to fit his girth into the hole and the runners followed, scrunching down and following the dirt-laden path. When they emerged, all they could see were cars. Everything from old 1950s classics up to some wrecked Jackrabbits and Westwinds.  Topal led the runners through the labyrinth of autos to small grassy clearing at some point deep in the yard. A lone elf was waiting in the clearing Topal looked somewhat panicked. With shaky hands, he undid the cuffed case and before anyone could protest, strapped it to Cassie.

      “Alright, I’m going to go out there and talk, take care of this case while I’m gone. Don’t make any moves until I give the word and whatever you do, do not open the case!” He rasped in a quieter voice than what he had been heard at before. After giving his instructions, he strode out into the clearing.

      “You’re not the elf that contacted me, who are you?” He demanded of the lone figure. Sifra turned to Cassie and Talus.

      “Do you guys hear something?” The pair nodded. It was a low rumble, like a tank crashing over cars….

      “KABOOM!” A large hovercraft burst into the clearing, Lone Star security forces pouring from it. The elf that was conversing in the clearing with Topal quickly faded away through another opening. A voice blared from speakers on the craft.

      “Blackwing, we have the place surrounded, you and your confederates are all under arrest. If you do not cease and desist, we will be forced to take action in the name of the people of Seattle.” It was the usual canned speech you’d hear in the stupid trid movies, but it still wasn’t without impact. Topal’s eyes darted around, surprised by the appearance of the law. The runners stuck to the plan, waiting for trouble. Immediately some of the Lone Stars advanced on them, stun batons thrumming. A shot rang out from the other side of the clearing, Topal crumpled. The officers fanned out, sweeping the area. Sifra grabbed Cassie by the collar and half-dragged, half –ran with the little mage, trying to remember the route Topal led them on. They lost Talus within the first couple turns, no time to find him. Sifra came up against chain link, but no tunnel. She tried to pull herself up the fence, letting Cassie go. It was no use, she didn’t have the upper body strength.

      “Look kid, I’m going to try and find a way out, just find some place and stay hidden, I’ll be back.” Sifra took off at a run again, taking care to avoid any lights that were sure to have Lone Star forces controlling them. Cassie was just stared after Sifra for a second, unsure as to what to do. She took a few random turns and came up at a dead end. Then she remembered, she had the briefcase, what was so important in there? Opening the clasps, she saw a beautifully carved box cushioned in the center. She sensed the power emanating from it, and it was potent. But she could also feel the carvings on the box, wards to keep something in rather than out. She heard footsteps and quickly shut the case, a light appeared around the corner, along with a voice.

      “This is Briggs, no I haven’t found any of the scum yet, but there may be something around this bend….” Cassie felt the words burning in her mind again…

* * *

      Talus dusted off his hands after he settled the unconscious Lone Star to the ground, even though no one was watching. That’s one more officer that wouldn’t be radioing in about where he was. Wolf lent him stealth as he crept up to the next human sound he heard. It was an officer leading Sifra away. While he had no great care for decker, Wolf was nudging him forward, it felt right. If anything went wrong, he and Sifra could surely take on a single Star. He appeared in their path, his vipers seemingly materializing in his hands. The Lone Star threw up his hands and exclaimed in a very un-police like manner.

      “Don’t shoot, it’s me Cassie!” Talus froze, a twitch away from lighting up the being before him claiming to be the girl mage. Sifra nodded.

      “It’s true. She said it was a spell or something, upshot is she looks like a Lone Star. Now we’ve got a way out if no one’s noticed us.” She indicated for Talus to look like she did, head slumped over as if beaten and hands together as if cuffed. The shaman quickly complied, whispering a silent thanks to his totem. The trio walked right past the Lone Star, still fervently hunting for what was in plain sight. After leaving the scrutiny of the long arm of the law, they all hurried to Sifra’s bike, Cassie letting the spell drop.

      “Where do we go now? I mean, I got this thing stuck to me and that Topal guy had the only key.” Cassie indicated the suitcase to which she was cuffed, still curious as to what lay in the warded box.

      “I’ve got a place not too far from here we could go to.” Sifra suggested, wheeling the bike down the street, waiting for Talus and Cassie to follow. Not eager to answer any Lone Star questions in the comfort of their interrogation rooms, the two quickly followed.  It was a tenement block apartment, strewn with stuffer wrappers and various electronic components, somewhat cleaned but still looking lived in. Talus immediately lit his pipe as he sat at the kitchen table, letting the last couple of hours sink in. Sifra went to a closet in her room and sifted among about a dozen other courier briefcases near-identical to the one Cassie was wearing, finally finding the hacksaw she was looking for. She motioned for Cassie to sit at the table, and began sawing at one of the links in the cuffs.

      “Oh, Sifra,” Cassie said while Sifra worked at the offending jewelry, “We really should look at what’s inside this briefcase when you’re done.”

      “No. Whatever’s in there’s bound to be trouble if our Johnson got himself killed over it.” She stated flatly, “Drekkin steel, why does it have to be so difficult?” She gritted her teeth.

      “But Sifra, it could help us.” Cassie pleaded, her curiosity getting to her

      “Fine. We’ll look. There.” The link snapped, leaving the cuff still wrapped around Cassie’s wrist, contrasting her colorful pants and leather arm guards. Sifra and Cassie opened the case while Talus sat there smoking away, his eyes glazed. The others didn’t even notice, focused on the box in the briefcase.

      “Hey a notch.” Cassie lifted the top of the box off and upturned it.

      “Wait! We don’t know if…” Sifra stopped talking as soon as Cassie upturned the box. Out fell a hand sized carving. Though it didn’t physically give off an aura, it seemed to posess a glow. Carved from the some dark red, the demonic figure clutched a pink pearl. Cassie snatched it up.

* * *

Ptior (better known as Topal to his contemporaries in the Children of Sophocles.) heard the bell ring and knew business was coming into his shop. He went out to greet the customer and instead was horrified to see his friend Simon Templeman there. Simon had been on a research trip to the South Pacific, in preparation for a treatise on ancient magic cultures, but he was back earlier than expected. He looked terrible, wizened and broken. He was muttering to himself.

      “Simon…?” Ptior queried cautiously, a defensive spell coming to mind. Suddenly Simon’s head snapped up, his mouth frothing.

      “Demons! Can’t you see them!? They’re all there! All around, biting, clawing, the blood flowing in rivers, flesh being rended from bone!” He continued his incoherent wailing as Ptior led him to a bed. So it continued throughout the night, Simon clutching the briefcase he’d staggered in with. Finally, as morning began to break, Simon grew silent, a wheezing breath escaping from him for the last time. Ptior took his pulse and finding none, pried the case from his dead colleague’s grasp and pulled a sheet over him, calling the coroner as soon as was decent. The man in the dark suit came and examined Simon’s body.

      “So this man was what….late 60s?” The Coroner said as he filled out the form.

      “No, he was actually 43.” Ptior explained, and the coroner looked shocked.

      “Sir, that man has all the look and signs of being much older than 43, he did die of natural causes though, so I guess that’s all I need to know.” He called in some assistants and they took the body away, leaving Ptior to himself. Hurriedly he undid the briefcase and assensed the lovely box inside. Funny it was trying to hold something in rather than out, he could bring it up with Caw-Caw next time he saw him. Lifting the top of the box off, he gazed at the piece resting on the velvet. Quite the figure it cut, so to speak, and it radiated power. There it was, the magic word. Power. What laid low the mightiest CEO and elevated dirtiest shadowrunner, a man with power had it all. Ptior wanted to gauge this “idol’s” power. He set a marble on the table and held the idol like he would any other fetish, just seeming right to do so. He hummed the tune, ignoring Raven’s cawing, the totem would do what he willed it. The marble floated into the air, doing a dance to Ptior’s direction, finally settling back on the table. Immediately, he felt drained. Not just in the sense of the mind as usual, but he felt himself growing physically weaker, as if his already small muscles had shrunk. He felt Raven depart his company and for the first time in a long while, he was alone. Except for the only thing in the world that mattered, the figure, it would empower him where Raven held him back, oh yes, that it would….

      Ptior tossed and turned. He was drowning in a sea of blood, he watched dismembered bodies hurtle past him, only to be devoured by beasts beyond description, driving him to every part of madness and back. It was as if every worst nightmare he had was rehashed and placed into one phantasmic dream The blood was burning, searing his flesh, filling his mouth with flames and darkness. With a loud scream, he awoke, tangled in the covers and drenched in sweat. He looked long and hard at the figure he clutched, it would make everything go away, all his doubts and fears. Then he smelled something off. Not from his room, but from the shop. It was smoke! Throwing on some clothes, he rushed into the shop proper to find it ablaze. He distinctly remember making sure there was no fire hazards before he went to bed, but more time to think about that later. He leaped through the doorway, the heated wood giving way to his corpulent body. He landed awkwardly in the street, still looking at the idol, his one item of true joy….his one possession that mattered….No! That was the key, this power must have some kind of curse. Ptior rushed back in, hacking and coughing, frantically searching for the box. If he had the air, he would’ve sighed with relief when he found it. His salvation in hand, he again made his escape from the immolation. Fire trucks began to rush up, sirens blaring. He gave idol another look as he opened the box and began to put it in.

      “Leave me out!” It seemed to scream to him, his hand resisting his own mind, “I am your power now! Without me, you’re nothing you worm!” Ptior grimaced and finally dropped the idol on the cushion, shutting the box with finality. He felt the power leave him as fire-fighters began putting out his beloved talisman shop. He had some calls to make….

      Late the next night, an opportunity presented itself, some Elven scholars from the Tir Tairngire wished to purchase the Idol from Ptior for research purposes. Discreetness being the key, they suggested a junk yard in the Barrens. He quickly agreed, wanting to do anything to get the Idol as far from him as possible, and set up a meeting for the night after. Of course, he still had no idea how long the curse would carry, this just could be a lure to his demise. The thoughts racing through his head, he contacted the Children of Sophocles. All the bodyguards they knew of were out of town or already on business. Ptior was getting desperate, he wanted to get rid of this damned artifact, but he wanted to be assured of his own safety. A quick lookaround of freelancers turned up some interesting results. There was a street orphan, raised in the Hermetic ways of magic but now on her after graduating from her magic academy. An elven shaman cast out from his tribe for refusing to join in with the Universal Brotherhood craze. And the final, a decker with some experience in shadowrunning, but not much else known. The meeting was less than twelve hours away, he put out the invitations to the trio, hoping they would accept his cry for help. He was at his wits end, and he burned to touch the idol again…..

* * *

      Cassie held the idol, almost mesmerized by it.

      “Ooh, pretty! I want to try it!” She said…. (To be continued)
My GM (Game Master) Wrote this up, my first Shadowrun mission.
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AceMaxim's avatar
dun dun DUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!

I like the last words at the end
“Ooh, pretty! I want to try it!”

That just wreaks of drama right there