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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I appreciate it...

I've reached out to Elious. We'll see what happens. Keeper has posted, so I appreciate that.

I've moved the game on, though it is purely discussion. Keep in mind that these responses are based on the die not necessarily because the GM took over the characters. Are they good, are they bad... you decide...

Posted on 2017-10-18 at 22:51:41.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: Opposition

Hightower’s BBQ | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 1:57 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

School records have Dr. Carey’s current address. That isn’t a problem. Directing her avatar to seek online for additional information, the wardriver plugs in parameters that filter the search to public records of property ownership and rental agreements. No other residences… “He’s got one address and that’s where the school has him listed, so I’d say that’s the best lead we got. Twenty-Four Fifty, West Park… that’s a mallplex… about… here.”

The video on the wall changes from Dr. Carey’s sallow face to a public map of the city. West Park Mallplex is about fifteen minutes from the school, but down a few levels placing it in a less affluent neighborhood.

“So, I don’t think that’s Kansas, Toto,” Blossom remarks while settling back in her chair and picking up a piece of processed pork to shove in her mouth at the same time as removing the diminishing lollipop. “I saw that place on a Vlog just a bit ago, I think. Some junked out hyperpsycho plowed himself and his input into the outside wall going, like, one-ten on a crotch-rocket. Took three ragdolls with ‘em who were camped off the street in a shopping cart motel. Brutal and messy.

“Good news is…” glowing green lines appear on the map crisscrossing intersections and running off the screen. “That the Pub-Trans runs within walking distance. We could be there within…” Blossom checks the time displayed on her private optic view, “...two hours. Give’r take.”

Fixer looks on, something nagging at his brain. Then it clicks. "I remember that place, I used to deal down there." Eyes swivel in his direction. "In tech, you bozo's, there was a guy who used to—maybe even still does—get hard to find parts, manuals, most of what I couldn't find myself. And yes there was the usual riff-raff in that area, needlers, dealers, users, boozers and bums—not exactly Club Med, but I didn't detect any high tech security systems or even spot any security at all, it was more of an out of the way derelicts delight, not to say it hasn't changed in the last year or so, but that's a first hand account of what I dealt with. What Doc is doing in that area is anybody's guess." Fixer pops his last O-ring into his mouth, and waits for the consensus of the others.

As Casino looks at the area map on the wall he can see quite a number of entrances and the mallplex’s loading dock. Too many to cover all of them; they’d need someplace high. As he continues to gaze an idea starts to form.

“Ok Fixer, you said you dealt tech there before. What do you think about you, Blossom, and Bloodbank doing a recon inside the plex? Find out if it’s become a banger club’s territory, where Casey’s apartment is and if he is not there, when he will be back. Check to make sure no new sec has been put into place and anything else the three of you can think of that I know I’m missing.” Pausing Casino then looked to Ghlahn, Vegas, and Echo.

“Ok, as you can see the place has a s***load of in’s and outs and no way we can cover them all from ground level. I suggest while Fixer, Blossom, and Bloodbank are doing their recon we four split up and do our own. I’m thinking we need to find two high level spots in buildings, one each, in the northeast and southeast corners of the plex to watch as many entrances as we can. That way we can provide cover since we have the best long range weapons. Blossom, Echo, Fixer, Vegas, and Bloodbank will do the actual snatch and grab if the doc’s there and we cover their exfil from a number of exits once they have him—if they get him—depending on what exit is best to use at that time. Ghlahn, you and Vegas take the southeast corner, Echo and I will take the northeast”

Catching a his breath, he adds, “Ok, anyone have anything to add or a better idea? And I can see your all banged up. Might be better for you all to get some rest before we do this.”

Echo looks to the others, her eyes resting last on Casino. The solo is clever in thinking they needed to cover more, and from up high as well. There's more to this man than just brawn. Good, we'll need it for what's to come next.

"I'm on board with this plan, unless someone has a better one," she says, moving to stand by the solo, but not too close. "And if we're going to do this, we need to get it going as soon as we can, but I know some of you choombas are hurtin'—do we have any way to fix up and rest up quick so we can go in as close to our best as possible?"

Ghlahn remains his usual impassive self, “"Sounds like a solid plan to me. A bit of rest might be a good idea. Maybe we get a early start in the morning."

“Sure… split up again,” Blossom remarks sarcastically. “That worked out so well for us last time.”

Bloodbank glances at the netrunner and presses his lips together in derision. “Can’t say, I disagree with the sentiment. Further, while I’ve got some STIM I could distribute, it’ll only last a few minutes and won’t do anything longterm. Rest and Time are the best medicine at this point and I’m afraid that’s not something we have in surplus.”

“I read somethin’ about kidnap victims once,” the beautiful Asian pipes up again with a cheerful tone that contradicts the information she’s sharing. “After the first twenty-four hours, the chances of a kidnap victim being recovered alive are greatly reduced. Time is ‘bout ready to bone out, choombas.”

“I’d also like to point out,” the medtech jumps on the bandwagon, “that we don’t know whether this teacher is our kidnapper yet. And… sending the computer specialist, field medic, and tech guru into the lion’s den to recon—well, that doesn’t really appeal to me.

“Mallplexes are large complexes with a number of stories and a buttload of apartments,” Bloodbank picks up his drink and lifts it to his lips. “If we got in trouble in there, you people wouldn’t have a clue.”

“And we still haven’t solved our communication issues,” Blossom nods in agreement as the medic begins sipping at his drink through the clear straw. “It sucked not being able to jam with Ghlahn when we were hot-footin’ about the grounds.”

“I’ll do whatever the team decides,” Bloodbank offers. “But I have a bad feeling about the plan where it currently sits.”

(OOC: Time is 2:02 PM)

Posted on 2017-10-18 at 22:49:50.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: ...

Thank you for the post!

Duncan, you're good. I'll look forward to your participation.

Posted on 2017-10-17 at 12:22:33.

Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: ...

Overwatch is suspended in mid-air, waiting...

Posted on 2017-10-17 at 12:20:23.

Topic: Star Trek: Discovery
Subject: Star Trek: Discovery

I've been watching the series and I've got to say that this is awesome! I'm thoroughly enjoying it and the more they reveal the more I find it intriguing.

I like the darkness behind it. Some fans of Trek may disagree, but I think it is something that's been needed for some time. So much of Trek is based on the sleek and shiny future where humanity is near perfect having overcome all of our many vices (except lust). I say, that's an impossibility without actually giving up our humanity and that's a problem I've had with Trek from the beginning. DS9 started the fan base down this path, but only scratched the surface. I like that in Discovery no character is safe and they are all flawed.

A spore drive is still a little "sci-fi" in my opinion, but I'm interested to see where they take it and how they remove it from the timeline later on (seeing how it doesn't exist in canon).

I'm still a little off-put by the main character's name, but I'll get used to it and that's trivial, and unlike many fans, I love the look of the show.

In my opinion, it is well worth the $2.50 an episode on CBS All Access. So, what are your thoughts?

Posted on 2017-10-16 at 08:59:31.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: That would be correct.

So... I've three of six players who have posted and one who I posted for. That means that I'm good to move things forward but for one thing: direction.

Altaira, if you want to have Mags make a decision as to how to proceed, I'll move this game along. Knowing you're unfamiliar with rules-based games, I've sent you a PM to help you out in this area.

Posted on 2017-10-16 at 08:50:58.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I will grant you this week...

Next Monday, I'll move the game along. After that, any players I don't have posting will lose their position in the game and I'll seek replacements.

Posted on 2017-10-16 at 08:50:24.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Welcome back!

Glad to have you back, Altaira!

Duncan, welcome back to the Inn. Azazyl was supposed to be taking on the role of a boatswain. He created a character named Jack "Simple Jack" Reid. You can either take over that character or present me with a replacement seeing how there hasn't been one post for Simple Jack.

Posted on 2017-10-15 at 14:17:42.
Edited on 2017-10-15 at 15:59:27 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Thanks for the post, Aletheia

Glad to have you back. That's half of the players. Where's the other half?

Posted on 2017-10-15 at 14:11:32.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I would suggest...

steering clear of, honey, sweetheart, hot stuff, babe, vixen, chick, or wench.

Aye, aye would work. The Coles will not have any problem with sir. They're tough.

By the way... where are all my players? I like the posts thus far, but we need more player posts before I continue.

Posted on 2017-10-13 at 14:31:37.
Edited on 2017-10-13 at 14:34:39 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: My condolences

Any map I want you to look at will be the main screen you appear on when you click on the "Join Game" button in Roll20.

I don't know what's going on with our players (aside from Hammer), but if you've got access to those who haven't posted yet please see if they're intending to.

Posted on 2017-10-13 at 14:30:09.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: And...

Blackheart, as well.

Posted on 2017-10-06 at 18:27:19.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: And...

So, too, is Sharky.

Posted on 2017-10-06 at 17:54:08.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: And...

So, too, is Cracker...

Posted on 2017-10-06 at 17:40:48.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I've made sure...

The character of Goncalvo is now also available on

Posted on 2017-10-06 at 16:57:24.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Sounds good!

Everything is moving at a crawl it would seem. I look forward to the post(s).

Posted on 2017-10-06 at 16:17:11.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Map updated...

I've updated the map.

Number 1 is the main mall entrance.

Number 9 is the bay entrance.

Posted on 2017-10-05 at 19:00:19.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: FYI

I've made sure that the character of Fin is updated on Roll20 and uploaded the deck map.

Posted on 2017-10-05 at 18:57:36.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Roll20

Yup... That's where I'm going to handle all combat and maps for the game from here on out. I sent every player an invite so check your spam if you haven't received it.

Ok, Tann... I'll update the map with some of that information. The green diamonds are bus stops. A mallplex is a self-contained community based around a couple of levels of businesses (maybe even a few) with the upper levels being housing generally for those who work within the mallplex, but not always. Yes, there's a loading dock area that I'll mark on the map. I'm at work right now but will post here when I've updated the map.

Posted on 2017-10-05 at 16:38:04.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: The map is in Roll20.

You can log in and check it out there.

Posted on 2017-10-04 at 18:44:10.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Noted

I appreciate the two posts thus far. The week is waning...

Posted on 2017-10-04 at 17:51:53.

Topic: Alacrity to have surgery
Subject: And the race is on....

So glad that things turned out well. Here's to full recovery!

Posted on 2017-10-04 at 17:47:20.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: No!

... well, ok.

Posted on 2017-10-02 at 21:23:08.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: And there it is!

An update has been posted.

Posted on 2017-09-29 at 18:02:02.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon
Subject: Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 5:32 P.M.; Beach

“Do ya wanna be un-lonely?” she timidly asks with a simple and barely recognizable jerk of her head back towards the buildings. “Jus’ a few pennies for a sailin’ man whose been too long at sail?”

"Lass, if that I was free to enjoy the pleasures you peddle. Alas, my heart still belongs to another. The only 'service' I seek is one that tells of the coming and going of ships and sailors."

Dipping her head, the whore looks up at Goncalvo with what must surely be a demure and inviting flutter of her eyelids. Chewing on her bottom lip, she sways her hips and shoulders in opposite directions giving a flutter to her skirts. “Yer misses could join us,” she draws the sentence out longer than is natural and very subtly thrusts her chest outward. “Who knows? Maybe a little play will shake my memory an’ a li’l somethin’ might be shared.”

Again, her sharp chin follows her eyes as they move to look back at the alleys and streets of the settlement, “Won’t take but a li’l time.”

(OOC: Time is roughly 5:33 PM.)


Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 11:13 A.M.; The Town

“He swore he’d see you dead fer what you did,” Raisa continues in a lower tone. “He’ll do it too. He won’ rest until he’s avenged LeRoux.”

The mention of LeRoux’s name cracks his memory like a lightning bolt might crack a mainmast. His fingers curl into tight fists, a phantom burning licks at the brand on his chest, and his storm-filled eyes blink as the recollections come rushing back…

Raisa Taïa was a whore last he remembered. One favored, all those years ago, by his former “master,” LeRoux. In those days, Fin had only passing interactions with the woman and, aside from her looks, nothing beyond that stands out any clearer in his memory. She may have been there when Fin finally killed the slaving bastard but Crowe can’t remember for certain… the red cloud of rage obscurs most everything but the violence he’d visited on LeRoux… and there had been many people there on that blood-soaked night—slaves and servants, foremen and crackers—there could be no way he could remember them all.

Fin does remember one person who hadn’t been there, though, and in that thunderclap of remembrance, he knows precisely to whom Raisa is referring to. Temesgen Kidane, a giant of an African with a lust for blood and more than enough skill with a sword to satisfy it. Kidane had been LeRoux's right-hand man and on that night had been off-island (procuring new slaves or “enforcing timber contracts” most likely). Had he not been… well… that night might have sailed on a much different tide.

…Despite the cold fire that burns in his gut and the fact that his hand no longer just rests on the hilt of his blade but, instead, curls purposefully around it, Fin Crowe offers the woman a cold, mirthless smile. “Good ta know someone’s losin’ sleep over me,” he rumbles.

“Is it Kidane’s rest er my safety tha’ concerns ya more, Raisa-luv? If it’s th’ former,” he leers, gesturing at a random street or alleyway, “steer me a course to ‘im an’ I’ll loose ‘im from ‘is restlessness, aye?” His hand sweeps back, then, and comes to rest at his waist, a thumb hooking over the top of his belt as he arches a brow at the woman; “If it’s th’ latter—which I can’t imagine, as ye’ve a’ready said ya din’t miss me an’, I reckon, I must’ve cost ya a pretty penny er two by spillin’ LeRoux’s guts—but if it is, poppet, ya just point me ta where I c’n find a prize ta hunt an’ I’ll be gone ‘fore th’ rum’s empty.”

“Yer a fool!” She hisses and glances about. “Kidane’ll know yer here ‘fore the hour is closed an’ if ya know what’s bes’ fer you an’ the crew you sail with, you’ll be long on the wind afore then.

“You comin’ back here is the black cloud on the horizon. A storm was brewin’. Jus’ a taste on the wind, but you… you be a stormbringer, Fin Crowe. Don’ say I dinna warn you.”

With a rustle of whirling skirts, Raisa turns about in anger and strides into the watching crowd. Nearby, a bird cries—a crow, harsh and just as angry sounding as the whore looks. Sounds rush back into Fin’s senses and a quick look about shows that many a person is studiously about their business as though they hadn’t just witnessed what they’d witnessed.

(OOC: Time is roughly 11:14 AM.)

Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), The Sun Dog, 12:27 P.M.

“We need t’ get a better picture o’ the tides before we become bedfellows with anyone,” Anna takes up the quill from the cork holder in the writing set on her desk and delicately runs the feather along her lips. “We need t’ see ‘bout this Davenport. We need t’ see ‘bout the others as well. Any others. How’re we going t’ go ‘bout that, my dear sister?”

“Well, there's nothing that says we must have only one 'bed' partner.” Maggie grins at the thought. It isn't a bad idea to play rivals off against each other, and let them fight it out while the sister's benefit.

“Well,” she continues while trying to think of an answer to Anna's last question, “we could try and contact this Davenport guy and get a feel for what he's like.” She raises her left hand and brushes it absently through her hair; Anna would recognize this for her sister's frustration at not being very good and coming up with 'plans'.

“Do you want me to go check him out?” Her questioning tone leaves no doubt that she isn't sure if that is a wise choice or not.

“Aye, Mags,” Anna nods into the feather. “I want you t’ figure the lay o’ the land an’ quick like lightnin’ as we’re no’ t’ have much time fer it. Gather what men ya need t’ do it.” Lowering the quill, Anna levels her stare at Hellfire Maggie, her younger sister and only living family. “Ya need yer head ‘bout ya in this, Mags. Fire’ll sink yer ship.”

“So you keep telling me,” Maggie spins on her boot heel and makes her way to the door, pausing in the act of opening it. Looking back at the red-headed captain she meets her eye and asks, “Are you expecting trouble already? Anything me and the boys need to be aware of?”

“There’s always trouble t’ be ‘ad, Mags,” Captain Cole replies with a playful turn to her lips. “Bes’ be prepared fer it.”

“Whatever,” the younger sister huffs and steps back into the sweltering heat of the deck. Hellfire Maggie doesn’t stop on the main deck, but makes her way up to the poop deck where she finds her favorite spot near the aft port cannon. Settling her butt against the rail she takes a couple of deep breathes. She loves her sister, but that woman can be aggravating!

“Go get the lay o’ the land,” she quietly mimics her sibling’s heavier dockside accent. “Bes’ be prepared fer it.” Escaping her throat, the groan is lost to Caribbean winds. “She knows this isn’t my wheelhouse, and she knows I’ve no designs on ever being a captain of any $%^&@! ship. Why the !%$@&*^ hells does she force the &$@&*&#ing !#$# on me.”

“Does he need t’ be ‘oisted up, perhaps?” Words drift up from the quiet starboard side of the ship and Maggie frowns.

“What the hell?” the young woman walks across the poop deck and stands at the top of the narrow stairs leading down to the main deck…

* * * * * * * * *

“Ho, thar!” Cyril Daumier is the sailor manning the longboat. A friendly Frenchman with a long, narrow face and a prominent nose, he usually works the sails. “Who’s this an’ wha’ in the bloody ‘ell ‘appened t’ you Les mecs?”

‘Les mecs?’ thinks Cracker. He hates it when these guys speak French, which Cyril immediately proceeds to do. He knows Cracker doesn’t understand it, so he is probably just trying to get a rise out of them. He’ll give the man crap about being a frog some other time, but for now he is just curious about the big guy. “Kill the froggish, Cyril. Sharky found himself a gunner in mid’ brawl. Hopefully he can aim a gun better’n he aims a knife. Who was the big guy?” The boatswain knows such information is probably above his paygrade, but curiosity makes life a bit more interesting.

Peering past his shipmates, Cyril looks back up the beach towards the back of his previous passenger. “Oh, dat is a merchan’ who is likely t’ buy our las’ prize.” Shrugging, Daumier grins showing spindly yellowing teeth. “He’s a bastardier from wha’ I witnessed, bu’ who’s to say for certain, no?”

Shaking his head and clicking his tongue, Cyril turns to the task of shoving off. Holding the longboat steady, he waits until Daxon is loaded and the others are situated before pushing the vessel into the surf and quickly splashing aboard (an act that sends droplets of seaspray across his passengers).

“Ya think tha’ Captain Cole will fancy takin’ on a wounded man, hmmm?” Daumier puts his back to the act of rowing. He eyes Blackheart with half-hooded eyes the mood of which cannot be discerned by the others. “Je suppose que cela dépend de combien de temps nous sommes à l'ancre, non?”

Receiving no reply, the gangly man continues rowing. Ten minutes later the longboat draws up alongside the Sun Dog. Cyril reaches out and grabs hold of the rope dangling next to the thick rope ladder dangling over the edge and raises his eyebrows. “Does he need t’ be ‘oisted up, perhaps?”

Blackheart manages the ladder with some ginger athleticism that’s impressive considering his condition. No additional ropes are needed and no one is going to hold his hand if he has anything to say about it.

On deck, the sun almost directly overhead, Cracker catches the eye of one of the sailors on watch named Chimwemwe, a man of average stature with skin as black as the night who prefers to fight with a mooring hook, and asks after Hughes.

“He be ashore,” Chim replies, looking both Shark’s Tooth and Blackheart over with his beady eyes. Nodding to Daxon, the man asks, “Who be him?”

Hearing from Chimwemwe that the Doc is ashore, Cracker sighs and looks directly at Sharky again, “Well, not much to do, but wait. Help him into the shade. Doc has to return sooner or later. Sober or not.”

Daxon, hearing the doctor is not aboard, is still feeling a sense of relief. Knowing that at some point a possible solution to his situation is near brings him some comfort. "Never been stabbed in the leg,” he mutters. “Not suggesting it for others. Have you guys been on the Dog long?"

“What in the *$%@#$ hell is this?” Maggie storms down the stairs and onto the deck in a rush that causes her coat to billow out behind her like a cape. “I’d like to $@&^ing have an answer to Chimwemwe’s question, and make it $%@&ing snappy.”

(OOC: Replies and explanation rendered by whomever…)

Hellfire’s gaze falls directly on the wounded Blackheart. The size difference between the diminutive first mate and the grim gunner is rendered impotent by the heat radiating from the pretty woman’s eyes. “Your solution to being down in $%*#ing crew is to get your ass beat and bring the @#%ing fool who started the fight back to the Dog?”

Turning back to glare at Shark Tooth, Maggie wrinkles her nose at the brim as she scowls, “I’ll let Fin deal with that #$&@ing horse$%^ when he gets back. For now, you’ll answer for any #$^&ing trouble he causes while you’re gone, and you—” sharp as a whip, her eyes dart back to Daxon’s bearded face. “—If Fin decides to keep you on, the cost of repairing your wound’ll @#%ing come out of your #$^@ing share of the first prize we take.

“Cracker, Shark Tooth,” she sniffs as though what she has to say carries with it a bad taste, the scowl never leaving her otherwise pretty, freckled face. “You two come with me. We got some reconnaissance to do back on shore.

“You, Blackheart is it?” Maggie eyes him suspiciously. “You find yourself a shaded spot here where Chimwemwe can keep a $%&#ing eye on you and wait for Hughes… or Fin.”

Stepping up to the rail, she pulls her coat aside and hooks her leg over the rail while taking the rope ladder in hand. (OOC: assuming Cracker mentions that his shift would be starting soon…) Peering back at the boatswain, Maggie’s scowl deepens, “Then ^#$&ing get someone to cover it.”

Back in the longboat with Cyril rowing once again, Maggie stews in her juices until the group reaches the beach. Striding away from the boat, she says, “There’s a gent here goes by the name Davenport. We had oursleves a ^&*@ing visit with @#^&ing Grover who’s supposed to be a prominent man, or some other bull%#^&, but before we go making deals, we need to know more about this Davenport. Rumor has it that he and %@#&ing Grover are butting heads. Either of you swabs have any ^&#$ing idea how we go about this?”

(OOC: Time is approximately 12:55 PM.)

Posted on 2017-09-29 at 18:01:15.


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