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The world is a terrible place where terrible people want terrible things to happen. You are a terrible person who does some of these terrible things for money. Themes and Inspiration Start-up Mechanics Spycraft 2.0, originally released in 2006 by AEG, is an RPG designed to be pretty much a kitchen sink game for any possible genre that could be described as “modern.” Being a hulking beast of a d20 game, there's a lot of important mechanical decisions to be made in play, during character creation and on leveling up. In the interest of accessibility for those who aren't super familiar with Spycraft and not bogging down the game with deciding how to divide a dozen skill points among 30 different skills or which of 200 feats would be best, I will present the mechanical decisions in more abstract fashion. Let's start. Choose Your Background and Skill Set! Each of these options is a combination Talent-Specialty-Class. The Talent and Specialty combine to determine a character's “Origin,” which provides a little background to the character, attribute modifies, a free feat and miscellaneous other bonuses; basically it serves the same purpose as race in D&D. Classes are exactly what you think they are. For the descriptions of the Talent, Specialties and Classes shown here, check out this link. Vote for one: Jetset bounty hunter. (Privileged Playboy Explorer) Freelance spy/con artist. (Shrewd Grifter Face) Nontenured computer science professor. (Brainy Authority Hacker) Presumed dead break-in artist. (Cunning Criminal Intruder) Retired CIA handler. (Retired Operative Pointman) Somewhat altruistic coyote. (Reliable Rescuer Scout) Disillusioned Catholic nun. (Gifted Clergywoman Sleuth) Medically discharged US Army Military Policewoman. (Fit Servicewoman Soldier) PMC drone pilot. (Persistent Pilot Wheelman) I embarrassingly forgot to post the character sheet of our protagonist: code:Wisdom is the attribute for perceptiveness, and so she started with a 16 in it, which the Gifted talent increased to 18; the highest possible out of character creation is a 20. She is fairly smart and socially adroit, but average in physical capabilities. Gifted also gives some minor other bonuses related to skills, particularly making critical successes on Resolve rolls more likely. For the Clergy(wo)man specialty, she received the Iron Will feat. This combined with a high Wisdom (which is also the attribute for mental strength) means she is extremely strong willed. Like, ridiculously so. She can also leverage her being-a-nun-ness to find places to stay while "in the field." It also gives her those bonuses in Intimidate and Networking. She's not good at fighting yet, nor especially tough or quick, and poor.  That "Net Worth" value is essentially how important she is among her network of friends and contacts; characters associated with organizations use an equivalent called Reputation, but the people she deals with are out to make a buck and are more willing to give someone the time of day if it'll earn them a rich customer.Other Noteworthy Characters So Far: Benjamin ThisIsNoZaku fucked around with this message at 11:02 on Mar 10, 2015 |
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Mar 3, 2015 09:15
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If you can bring yourself to vote for anything other than a disillusioned, gun-toting Catholic nun then it's possible that you may need to reevaluate your life choices.
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Mar 3, 2015 09:40
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Kai Tave posted:If you can bring yourself to vote for anything other than a disillusioned, gun-toting Catholic nun then it's possible that you may need to reevaluate your life choices. I'm afraid this is correct. But only if there are no puns, religious references or bible quoting.
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Mar 4, 2015 07:31
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I've got no idea why this hasn't gotten any love. Do a few updates and the ball should start rolling. (but only if it involves an angry nun with guns)
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Mar 6, 2015 07:07
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Outrail posted:(but only if it involves an angry nun with guns) You gotta build up to the action movie climax shootout. Anyway, time to  Benjamin tugged at the cuffs of his expensive tailored black suit. The two of you were standing in the elevator as it headed to the top floors of of the Larison Bros. corporate headquarters in Manhatten. Benjamin had realized once you arrived at Larison Bros. that at no point between contacting you in Los Angeles and here did he explain exactly the job entailed beyond "an investigation," and was using the elevator ride to brief you in his cultured British accent that you were precisely 90% certain was an affectation. “A few days ago, a friend of my employers in the DOJ informed him that the FBI received an anonymous tip that someone has been embezzling a lot of money. It will take months of red tape before the investigation actually starts and years of sifting thought back records and account statements. I was brought in to ensure the culprit is found in a more expeditious manner. I brought you in to help me investigate.” You nod and twist to adjust your own suit jacket. You had gotten into this business because you were tired of life; not of living, but of your life. Growing up with your spendthrift parents, trying to pretend school was interesting, working minimum wage jobs and even following all the rules after joining the convent to try and escape it all. It always made you feel like a fool to go along, and you eventually realized you hated nothing more than feeling like a fool. Wealth and power do not arrive with a snap of the fingers, however and despite your business card saying “CEO” on it, you were still a small enough fish to need to spend time in the trenches- though granted, these were quite expensively dressed trenches. Benjamin had paid for the suit you were wearing, a twin of his own. You never would have chosen the cut yourself but it was tailored exquisitely and fit like a dream, in addition to looking slick as hell. (Double points for Benjamin telling you he wasn't going to take the cost of it out of your fee.) You had also never worn a gun in an underarm holster before and your first experience, with a rig and weapon borrowed from Benjamin, was not proving a pleasant one. You hadn't brought your gun, not seeing the need to carry inside a New York office building filled with unsuspecting corporate suits, but Benjamin had insisted you go armed and he was the one writing the checks. The holster definitely wasn't sitting right. “Did this tip include any information to narrow down the suspect list?” “Not as such, all the money was coming out of a variety of corporate accounts.” “Was there any kind of specific evidence, at all?” “I don't know. I didn't see any of the paperwork or anything. Why?” “Assuming they seriously want an investigation to go forward, I whoever put in the tip knows the feds are going to need more than a bad feeling to get the ball rolling. Find them and we don't start completely from zero.“ Benjamin nods. “Makes sense.” “So where do we start?” “You're the girl Sherlock here, I feel comfortable letting you take the lead. I need to get my money's worth out of you.” What is your course of action? A Dollars to donuts says it's some executive raiding the corporate piggy bank. Barge in spitting fire and shouting the most outrageous(ly false) accusations and see who panics. B Chances are there's a secretary or middle manager somewhere in this building who's seen something suspicious, even if they don't know it. Try prowling around to find who knows what. C You are starting off almost completely blind, the rats in the walls could be doing it for all you know. Find the informant to get their information and you'll be save yourself a lot of otherwise wasted time and effort.
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Mar 6, 2015 07:16
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The dead heat of votes is broken by a roll of a die in favor of option C. This job was stupid. Benjamin could have hired a forensic accountant for one-tenth the money he was paying you but whatever, time to work for ten minutes and make enough money to buy several third-world villages. “The best strategy would be for us to do as little unnecessary work as possible. That means we need to find out what the informant knows so we can narrow the suspect pool down from 'literally everyone' and then go from there.” “I'm thinking starting in accounting. Money problems means talking to the money people.” Benjamin nods. “And what should I be doing?” “I don't know. What do you even know how to do? Go do that.” “Hmm. I'm sure I'll be able to find something to keep occupied and out of your way.” “Sounds great.” The elevator doors opened at the top floor and you both step out. You let out an exasperated breath. “Oh poo poo, I forgot to decide what floor to stop at before getting on.” You get back on the elevator. You remembered the company directory listed accounting two floors down from here. “I'm beginning to think I have grievously over paid for this.” “Shut up, you sat on a powdered donut back in the car.” “What?” He starts twisting to try and find the supposed food. His suit is way too expensive, and his personal image too fragile, to tolerate stains. “No I didn't.” “Just keep looking, you'll find it,” you tell him, smiling as the elevator doors close again. You then locate the floor containing the accounting department. “Oh, I missed my invitation.” The accounting area has dozens of open desk throughout, with closed offices along the walls for the important drones. A cheap, gaudily multi-colored 'Happy Birthday' banner is hung from the ceiling, which explains why all of them are empty- or rather, why almost all of them are empty. A single man is still at his desk, completely engrossed in whatever it was he was doing on his computer. You hoped it wasn't too gross. You approach. “Not very sociable, are you?” He starts when you speak. “Uh, what?” You gesture at the banner. “I take it it's not your birthday, then.” “No, it's, uh, my boss'.” “You snubbed your boss' company birthday party. Good luck with your next raise, seriously.” “Yeah, uh, who are you? This isn't really a place for people to wander around- actually,” he interrupts himself, “you're not the... auditor, are you?” “Yes.” You give an exaggerated nod, gracefully accepting the easy cover story handed you. “I am Elizabeth, I am the auditor. I am here to perform the audit.” The man makes such an insanely obvious show of looking around the otherwise unoccupied room, ducking his head and whispering at you, “the government audit.” “You know, the best way to ensure people realize you've got something to hide, is to look and act like you've got something to hide, you nerd. Sit up and talk like an adult for fucks sake.” “Yes, okay.” He straightened. “I did think it would take longer. The last email said it would be a few days before a meeting could be set up.” “Well, we didn't want anyone possibly intercepting the communication and trying anything. Don't worry, we've got it under control.” “Oh, okay. My name's Mel, by the way, like the actor.” “I'm sure. I'm here to get your information and get the ball rolling on the preliminary investigation.” “But, I already sent all my information to the Bureau.” “Yes but if I walked around with a big pile of secret documents no one is supposed to be looking at, that would be suspicious, right?" “Yes...” “So please explain it to me, so I can commit it to memory.” “Well, I've found a lot of strange invoices over the last few months, anomalies where departments and people suddenly started ordering random things from strange companies, all authorized by a former manager in the mail department, named Joshua Holder.” Mel is much more animated and confident when he starts talking about accounting things. “Plus, when I started asking about the orders, no one could remember making or receiving the items they had supposedly ordered.” “I started looking deeper, and found out that it was all designed to look legitimate if someone here in accounting just glanced at them, but everything from the items to the places they were being shipped to the companies selling them were all fake.” “Is there any pattern in which departments have had these bogus invoices created for them?” “It's obvious it was Holder, isn't it? Why does that matter.” You look at him blankly. “Holder.” “Yes.” “So you think he set up a bunch of dummy companies and has since been sneaking into your building and using your computers to create these bogus invoices and then proceeded to sign them with his own name.” “Well, that just makes is sound-” “Stupid, right?” You get out your cellphone to call Benjamin. "Benny-boy, found our informant and found a lead or two." "How is that possible? I saw you literally... less than thirty minutes ago." "If you want to talk to this guy yourself, he's the guy sitting by himself while his co-workers are having a party." You hang up. Now to decide the next course of action. Which lead to follow? A Hit the mail room. Figure out what's going on with this Joshua Holder, this almost seems like a case of corporate identity theft. B Visit IT. The bogus invoices were put into the system on a computer somewhere. Perhaps they can pinpoint which one. C Try to keep working with Mel. See if you can work out if the way the invoices were handled points to someone in a particular position has been creating it. Mechanics time: The main way you do non-combat stuff is through skills. Each skill also has a number of checks which determines the attribute used, the results and what the other side, if any, does as part of the check. In this section, Elizabeth made three checks. A Bluff (Deception) roll to convince Mel she was a Fed opposed by his Sense Motive (Detect Lie) roll, with circumstantial penalty for already assuming she was who she said she was. Next an Impress(Influence) roll to reassure him she knew what she was doing opposed by Resolve (Resist Impress). The final one is an Impress (Persuasion) versus Resolve (Resist Impress), to convince him to re-divulge his information, even though if you actually were a government investigator you would already have it all. Luckily he's a huge  who has no idea what he's doing.The first roll was a 12(0 ranks + 2 Charisma mod + 10 roll) versus Mel's 0(+0 modifier -2 circumstance bonus + 2 roll), then a 10 by you (0 ranks + 2 Charisma mod + 8 roll) versus his 3(+0 modifier + 3 roll) This shifted his Disposition from Intrigued to Friendly, which makes him easier to persuade further. The final result is a 19 (2 Charisma mod + 2 Disposition mod + 15 roll) versus 11 (0 mod + 11 roll). This man has a mental and emotional fortitude that compares unfavorably to wet paper. ThisIsNoZaku fucked around with this message at 11:40 on Mar 10, 2015 |
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Mar 10, 2015 11:37
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I like your writing style, I'm going to go with C I think we can squeeze a little more info out of this kid.
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Mar 11, 2015 03:08
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C Shove all this "invoice" nonsense onto the nerd, we've got nun-and-gunning to do.
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Mar 11, 2015 04:45
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B This is the present. Computers will tell us what we need. As long as we can browbeat their handlers into spilling the beans for us.
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Mar 11, 2015 13:46
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Lazaruise posted:this kid. Mel is in his early 40s.
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Mar 11, 2015 21:57
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“Okay.” You close your eyes to help your concentration. “Is there any pattern in the dates on the invoices?” “They were all submitted approximately two weeks apart.” “Regularly? For how long?” “Yes and for 16 months now.” “How much were they worth all together?” “2 million dollars.” You give an incredulous sigh. “So I was brought in to investigate someone stealing less money than this multi-billion dollar investment firm spends on printer paper.” “Actually, the company spends-” “Don't care. How do the dates relate to when Holder left the company?” “I don't know when his employment was terminated.” You open your eyes. “Then hand me the phone. You should be doing this, but I'm not comfortable with you talking to other human beings.” Mel just looks at you blankly. You can't decide if him taking all your poo poo was pathetic because he's an emotionally stunted weirdo with no self-respect, or admirable because he's found a way to not be bother by people's garbage. Hopefully the latter; probably the former. You don't even need to ask him for the number, he had the company phone directory neatly placed directly above the phone on his desk in plain view from where you're standing. You dial the number for HR. “Human Resources, this is Sylvia.” “Hi, Sylvia. This is Elizabeth over in accounting.” You force yourself to sound like the one personality trait that least describes you: cheerful. “I have a kind of weird request. Um, can you tell me when, exactly, Joshua Holder left the company? He was a supervisor in Mail.” “Oh, sure!” Several moments of the clicking of a keyboard passed. “Looks like it was- heh- April first. Ironic.” Ugggh smalltalk. And people's imbecilic ideas of what constituted 'irony'.“Yeah, that's pretty funny. Anyway, thanks a lot for that date.” “No problem. Hey, didn't we meet each other at the last company tra-” You hang up on her. “Holder was fired on the first of April.” “Exactly one month after the invoices started.” “I don't know how that helps anything right now. Which departments were they from?” “All of them. In a cycle, actually.” What a useful thing that he should have brought up of his own volition and not needed to have dragged out of him. It was like pulling teeth- your own teeth. “Okay, what's the pattern?” “I don't know.” “You are horrible. I'm going to grab a chair.” You snag a rolling office chair from one of the unoccupied desks and bring it over. You're going to be here a while, you feel. “Are you looking at the list now? Are they in... alphabetical order.” “No.” “Do they have number codes? Sorted by number.” “No.” “Sorted by either of those, but backwards.” “No.” You close your eyes again. What is the pattern? Actually, you know the pattern; the question is what is the origin for it? Someone chose it, perhaps subconsciously (It would be ever better if it was subconscious because that would mean they weren't putting any thought into making it misdirecting.) Something an obsessive nerd like Mel wouldn't discern it. The most obvious possibility to start with was... “People.” Mel doesn't say anything. “In order of the number of employees they have.” “No.” “... Can you show me the names of the department heads?” “Yes.” Mel pulls up the list of the company vice-presidents, and there it is. “Oh, yes, that's it.” Mel looks at you. “Would you like me to tell you?” Engage the smug. “Yes.” “So it turns out they are in alphabetical order- not by the names of the departments, but by the names of the executives that are in charge of them.” Mel nods. “I see.” It wasn't even fun showing off in front of him. A hand comes down on your shoulder. You turn to see Benjamin has joined you now. “I have indeed. Someone's been using bogus invoices to siphon funds to fake front companies. I have discovered that the pattern of the departments the invoices were submitted for perfectly matches the alphabetical order of the last names of the heads of them all.” “Hey, that's great!” Benjamin exclaims. “How is that useful?” “Where do you think someone would find those names, in alphabetical order?” You ask him, trying to lead him to the answer. Benjamin pursed his lips and touched a finger to them, while holding his elbow with the opposite hand in a pensive pose. You hold your hand up and pantomime using a smartphone with your thumb. “Uhh... Fighter jets.” “What? No.” “Prostitute.” “No, rear end in a top hat.” Then Mel started in. “Video games.” “No! It's a phone. Someone got the names out of their phone, where they would be sorted by name.” “Perfect. How is that useful?” You sigh. “They have to be someone who regularly needs to contact all the departments heads, meaning they're a bigwig themselves. Also, there's the fact that they list every one of them, but I'm not certain that means anything.” “That means someone who is an executive themselves, right?” “Most definitely.” “All right then. What's the next step?” “Well, we've narrowed it down to, what, about a dozen people? I can work out who it is in like thirty minutes, tops.” Benjamin's mouth twisted in a frown. “I do not think it would be smart to tip our hand like that. I only want to approach someone once we are completely certain of our suspect.” What's the play now? A Convince Benjamin that you already know enough. More of this puzzle poo poo is a waste of your time and talents. You've been here, like, an hour already. B “What ever you say, dad”. Tell him you're going to keep looking for more info and go confront your suspects behind his back. Finding out this information on her own would have required Investigation (Research) checks by Elizabeth, but skipping that was the entire point of searching out Mel here. He's not so good at putting it together usefully, so we use the Analysis skill to work it out. The first real part that needs actual work is finding the pattern behind the pattern in the departments used. This roll is pretty bad (a 5 on the die) with a combined modifier of +6 (2 Int mod + 4 ranks in Analysis). As it's just a matter of eventually looking at all the data, a low DC means it still succeeds. Next is determining where that pattern was derived from. This roll is a 14 with the same modifiers for an impressive 20 to figure out the phone. Finally, the leap of logic to recognize who might be expected to have all of those particular names merits the third and final check, another 11. This is... not enough. But, protagonist powers to the rescue! PC get a special resource called Action Dice and one of their uses is to improve a roll, even after it has been made. Elizabeth has 3 d4s to spend every “session” and uses one now, getting a lucky 4. Action dice explode on their max result, so a reroll adds an extra 2 and the extra +6 turns the roll into a success.
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Mar 16, 2015 06:38
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You suck on your teeth for a moment to gather your thoughts. All this forensic accounting stuff and tiptoeing around is exactly the opposite of what you're best at. You nod at Benjamin. “Fine. We've managed to narrow our suspects down a lot, now we can look more in depth into those individuals. It's possible that there might be some information on where the phony invoices were put into the system. You should go talk to them. I'm not great with computers.” He gives you an odd look. “Very well.” “Meanwhile, I'm going to talk to some of the people who work around our suspects a lot. Maybe they noticed something different about them since the embezzlement started. Can you even tellby the time someone makes that much money, though?” “You would be surprised.” “I guess.” You and Benjamin split up again, him leaving to visit the IT department, you supposedly to interrogate some of the other employees. You don't do that. Instead you head directly up to the top floor, where the executive suites are located. At first, you wander the halls to get the lay of the land. It is not especially visitor-friendly, with no maps or signs to aid navigation and nothing but names on the doors of the occupied offices. At least it's just one floor of a building. You eventually see a name you recognize from the Wikipedia page you perused on the car ride over, that of the CEO, whom you remember because there had been a picture of him and his nose had looked like a fleshy toucan's beak. You open the door into Mr. Dinapoli's office. The small room you enter is spartan, containing a pair of comfortable chairs for visitors and a corner with a desk covered in various secretarial accoutrements. The entire wall on the outside of the building is a giant window, but the view just looks out onto an equally large, ugly amalgam of steel and glass across the street. There is also a second door, which you proceed through. This second office is about twice as large and actually decorated. To your right is another full-sized window, while along the left is a number of large, very solemn and serious portraits of old men over a counter covered in glasses and bottles of what is most likely very expensive liquor. Directly across from the door is the CEOs desk, a very sturdy and heavy looking wooden affair. Set against the wall behind is as an equally sturdy bookcase, filled with books- and not with the kinds of books you'd see on a list of titles an executive would consult to make themselves look smart, but a wide variety in both size and apparent age. Both of the rooms occupants also occupied the chair behind the desk. When you closed the door, specifically loud enough for them to hear, the woman jumps up out of the Dinapoli's lap in surprise and embarrassment. “Who the hell are you?” Dinapoli demanded angrily. “There's no time for that. Quick, tell me everything you know about fraudulent invoices!” The result surprises you. Dinapoli obviously doesn't know anything and remains angry. The young woman's face, however, registers a moment of alarm. “Haha, wow.” You take out your phone and send Benjamin a text about your find. “Hey!” you shout when you see Dinapoli reach for the phone on his desk. You lunge forward and smack his hand. “None of that.” He looks at you, anger and disbelief mixing on his face. He obviously hasn't been treated like a small unruly dog in a long time, at least since Sophomore year in business school. “Who the gently caress do you think you are?” He shouts angrily. “Samantha, call security so they can throw this bitch out!” “Or, alternatively,” you pull out the gun Benjamin had given you, a 9mm Glock 17. “Everyone can just calm down.” You don't point it at them or anything, but they quiet immediately. You three wait like that until Benjamin arrives. He finds you waiting facing the door, gun in hand. “Thanks for joining us.” You gesture behind you with one hand as you raise you gun and point it at him. He has quite an alarmed expression on his face. “What the hell?” “Good news Benny, I've cracked the case. Come take a seat and I'll tell you all about it, but first, get rid of your gun.” You have him turn away from you and unload his weapon, tossing it away and the magazine to you, before you allow him to walk over and sit down. “The short version is, the blond here was the one making the bogus invoices.” “What? Bullshit! Do have even the tiniest shred of proof?” “I'll admit, proof sounds pretty good.” “Am I suddenly a cop now? We need to get the DA to sign off? I asked if she did it and she told me she did. No one said this poo poo needs to hold up in court.” “What?? You asked and I didn't say anything!” “Yeah, but when I said it your face said 'Oh poo poo, I've been found out' about as loudly as if you had screamed it. But that's not the interesting thing! Our besuited friend here is likely many things, but not what he says he is.” “He told me he was here to find an embezzler, which was mostly true. He told me he was working for the company board, which was not true. He's also implied he's British, with that accent, which is absolutely not true. So how about the truth this time, Benjamin, if that's even your real name although I know it is?” “poo poo,” Benjamin says, his British accent disappearing to be replaced by a noticeable Texan drawl. “Okay, but can I ask you a question first?” He turned around in his seat to look at you. “Are you even a nun?” “What? That's your question.” “Yes,” he says firmly. “I hired you because I heard you were like a nun Sherlock Holmes and that sounded loving hilarious. But then we meet at the airport and you're wearing a cheap suit- buying you that new one was a great idea, though, you look rad as hell- and you don't even say like twisted up Bible quotes or anything. Working with you, I don't really feel the nun experience, you know?” “Are you loving kidding me?” “Hey, this is a business and that means branding. Take me, the whole suit and accent thing? My shtick is I'm, you know, the super-classy one. I'm not even trying to trick anyone with the accent, it's just supposed to sound cool. You've got a whole nun thing, you should really play it up. Having something that makes you stand out is super important to have. Nobody important hires 'a private investigator' but they'll totally go for 'the badass nun private investigator'.” “None of that sexy nun stuff, though, poo poo's really played out.” “Okay, sure, I'll wear a habit next time. Just answer, why are you really here?” “You can probably hide all kinds of things under-” He lunges up out of his chair at you. You could see him tense up for something but even with the split second warning he's too fast. His hand darts up and smacks the barrel of your gun away from his body. He twists around even further and lunges clumsily over his chair. He slams into you and you both topple over. When you hit the ground, the shock loosens your grip on your gun and when Benjamin lands on top of you, you let it go. Unexpectedly, he doesn't go for it, instead scrambling for the magazine of his gun you had taken. After grabbing it, he climbed to his feet and strode across the room to his discarded weapon. You, meanwhile, climb back to your feet and grab your own gun. Benjamin was in the process of reloading when you level your gun at him again. “Freeze.” “Your gun is loaded with dummy rounds.” “What.” You pull the trigger twice and the gun clicks uselessly. “You've got to be loving kidding.” “I didn't want you to get suspicious by only bringing my own gun but I also didn't know how down you'd be with the cold-blooded murder I'm about to perform.” He turned to the two other people in the room, who had been momentarily forgotten. “Have you two been good and sat quietly?” “We didn't do anything...” Dinapoli said weakly. “I would believe you except your girlfriend is still holding her phone.” He starts walking towards them. Dinapoli moved to stand more fully between him and Samantha and raised his fists. “You loving rear end in a top hat!” Benjamin's fist strikes him square in the face and he staggers back and collapses, dazed. “Have to say, I respect the balls it takes to stand up to a man with a gun unarmed, but I've got poo poo to do.” He levels his handgun at the now unprotected woman. Samantha looked at him with a look of helpless horror. “Why are you doing this...” Benjamin shot her three times in the chest. Her body fell back into the bookcase before flopping lifelessly onto the floor. “It's always money.” He turns to you. “The jobs over and your tantrum here turned it into a giant loving mess. So what are you going to do now?” “I don't appreciate it when people try to lie to me.” “And I don't like working with little children that think they need to know everything, especially when they don't. But we can't be standing around, someone who heard those gun shots will call security and security's going to call the cops. Are you coming or not?” What now? A Go with Benjamin. You're still partners for the moment and the fact that he hasn't just gunned you down already is a good sign. B Go your own way. The man's a stone cold killer, and he's kind of really super mad at you. Best not trust him. Up in the suite, Elizabeth check Sense Motive to read the Mr. Dinapoli and his secretary, but what Elizabeth rolls doesn't matter, she's that good. When Benjamin goes for the gun, his bluff to try and distract you fails miserably, with only a 17, but he's still fast enough that he gets the drop on you! A 18(17 roll + 1 mod) on his initiative versus your measley 12, including the +2 for noticing his attempted misdirection. He attempts to grapple and gets a terrible result of 5 (6 roll + 1 Athletics skill modifier -2 circumstance penalty) and still manages to beat your even worse roll of 3 (straight roll).
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Mar 26, 2015 07:52
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B benjamin a jerk
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Mar 26, 2015 17:57
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A
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Mar 30, 2015 02:50
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Benjamin's an rear end in a top hat, even if he does have good branding suggestions. Edit: But if it means a chance to go Old Testament on his rear end down the line, I'm up for Anything. RandallODim fucked around with this message at 06:56 on Mar 30, 2015 |
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Mar 30, 2015 06:45
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RandallODim posted:Benjamin's an rear end in a top hat, even if he does have good branding suggestions. We'll call this the tie-breaker in B's favor. And the next decision was written with you in mind before I even knew you wanted it apparently.
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Mar 30, 2015 10:11
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“I think we can call it quits here.” You tell Benjamin. Benjamin looks around the room, containing one freshly dead young woman and her extremely traumatized/furious looking powerful executive boss/boyfriend. “Fine. Good luck getting past security on your way out the front door.” “I think we can call it quits once we get outside,” you amend. Benjamin smiled. “Let's hurry before our friend can get the Army here to light us on fire.” You both exit. Behind you, you can hear Dinapoli grab his phone and start screaming at someone. Your trip out of the building is quick and uneventful. First into the elevators and down past the bottom floor, into the basement, up a pair of service stairs and out a fire exit that mysteriously didn't set off any alarm when opened. The entire time, neither of your spoke and you refused to let him walk behind you. If he was going to kill you he would just need to turn around and shoot you in the face but you refused to give him the opportunity to shoot you in the back as a matter of principle. You thankfully never encountered Once outside in an alleyway next to the building, Benjamin turns to you. “Here we are. Goodbye and good riddance.” “Why did you do it?” You demand. “I did it because I'm a hitman and someone paid me to? This seems like it should be obvious.” “Who hired you, then?” “A person. Even in the world outside what it is we do, you're a contractor, which means I don't have to tell you poo poo.” “I don't like working with people I can't trust.” “I think you actually don't like dealing with anyone who can outsmart you and-” A police siren can be heard over the sounds of the city. Several of them, actually and getting much closer. “Oh poo poo,” Benjamin exclaims, and starts running in the direction of his car, abandoning whatever points he was making to flee as quickly as possible from the site of the brutal murder he committed. You also begin fleeing, a bit more sedately, as well as take your phone out. The other person answers, “Tech support.” “Things kind of went to poo poo. I need a way back to California.” “Cops get involved?” “Yeah.” “Okay. I'll book you a ticket at La Guardia.” “Will it be okay for me to fly?” “Yet, it's fine, everything's fine. It'll be fine.” You grimace but you Angelica had done all sort of insane computer magic before. Maybe it would be fine? “Yeah, sure.” “So what happened?” “Benjamin was hired to... find someone at some company, saying it was an embezzler and he was hired to root them out before the cops started looking for them or something. He hired me to find her for him, I did but he was working for a third party and flipped out when I confronted him.” “...And now there's cops.” “Yeah.” “But why'd you make a big deal out of it? I mean, that stuff happens in this business.” “I'm not angry about that, I'm pissed that the son of a bitch tried to pull one over on me.” “Sure, sure...” Angelica said, placatingly. “I bet the fucker's going to try and pay me, either.” “...Actually, I just got a notice that the money's coming out of escrow. So that's one good thing at least.” “At least.” You agree, begrudgingly. “Call me back once you start boarding so I know you don't need me to look up a lawyer.” “Yeah.” After hanging up, you hail a cab and start questioning your life choices. Because of your greed an arrogance, a more-or-less innocent woman was dead and her murderer was walking free. Maybe you aren't cut out for this... A No! Today was pretty terrible, but it happened because you were too reckless and threw away common sense to show off. You just need to be more careful and you can still make your money without being party to any more wanton murders. B No! You didn't sign up for a hit, but you just made more money in six hours than any member of your family ever did in like five years. The gravy train has only started rolling. C No! How else are you going to make sure you're able to find Benjamin and destroy him for ever thinking he was smarter than you for even a second? Fucker.
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Apr 3, 2015 08:52
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C I see no potential issues with an all-consuming desire to seek revenge. Those stories always turn out great for the person doing the revenging!
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Apr 3, 2015 14:07
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B
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Apr 7, 2015 06:36
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The votes have been recorded so that they man influence Future Events. A few months later: LADP SWAT hadn't kicked down your door between your little misadventure in New York and now, so you guessed you were in the clear. Your one-woman IT department had also been watching the NYPD and FBI communications to watch for mention of you and there was nothing. The other task you had requested for Angelica was generating exactly as much information. Benjamin apparently did all his work “IRL” and not knowing his real name meant he was super hard to find, since people didn't give full physical descriptions every time they talk about a person on message boards and in chat clients. Also, unfortunately, Angelica was more like a contractor than a salaried employee, so the Bennie hunt you had her on was eating away at your previous earnings. You had a lead on a job that you had set aside in favor of what turned into the New York debacle... There had been several armored car robberies in the last six months in LA county and the authorities were quite desperate to find the culprits, offering a (to you, now, relatively small) reward. Someone had gotten drunk and bragged that he was close friends with the culprits and was sharing in their windfall, to a man who just happened to be an undercover cop you knew. Said cop had the man hauled in but the drunk “admitted” that he had been lying and was just trying to make himself seem more impressive by having such rich and dangerous friends. Your cop friend “knew” that he was lying (the second time) but he'd been let go (the suspect, not the cop) and he had come to you, asking if you could do anything. He had flattered the ever-loving poo poo out of you, which was why you had given him a non-committal “I'll see what I can find” instead of just blowing him off as dreams of a Big Apple danced in your head. He also promised he could get you consultant work with the LAPD, which you knew was bullshit because he was as liquor-soaked a sack of crap as his source which was why he was the only detective willing to talk to a surly nun with delusions of being a freelance intelligence/security firm. You still had the business card with the drunk's (the criminal, not the cop- although it was the cops business card, so his too) name and address on it. A You're desperate for more work and spending what should probably be an afternoon to bring in a little extra cash might be what's needed. This also might actually be parlayed into some government work, it actually was a big deal. B You're technically a PMC (seriously and also big-L Legally), so let's do the mercenary thing- the news said the robberies took “over $1 million” in cash and assorted valuables. So you could find them, corral the company muscle and rob the robbers. This would unfortunately mean you'd have to visit your brother-in-law and that was always super depressing. C Something else? Maybe you just need a new perspective on your situation...
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Apr 11, 2015 13:49
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Brother-in-law's no fun, so I can't say I feel thAt desperate.
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Apr 15, 2015 06:51
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ThisIsNoZaku posted:The votes have been recorded so that they man influence Future Events. C
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May 13, 2015 16:10
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The first step in your manhunt was to reach out to the contact the detective had pointed you towards. And by “reach out to” you mean “threaten into talking”. To aid you in this endeavor you enlisted the aid of “Mike”, a retired Marine you hired for odd-jobs like this, where you needed a little muscle but not too guns-come-out-y. He has a wife you know. The two of you head over to the address scrawled of the business card what's-his-name gave you (you can never remember the name of that detective) in a rented car. The address lead to a somewhat run down apartment building. You are going in each armed with a handgun and wearing discrete bulletproof vests; this man is associated with a group of heavily armed robbers who go to work with military grade armor and assault weapons. Presumably, none of them go grocery shopping in that but you've learned to play things as safe as possible. When the guy had been picked up by the police, he'd let slip that he always headed after work to the same bar. You weren't willing to put any faith in a cold approach would lead to him letting you in to talk with him, which meant getting the drop on him when he was returning home. You kept watch in the car from the street while Mike was in the building itself, on the same floor as the target's apartment. Right on schedule, a man matching his description drove up and entered the gated off tenant parking area behind the building. You gave Mike a quick call. “I think this is our man, heads up.” “Ready,” Mike confirmed. You headed inside as well. The entrance was supposed to be secured by a locked metal security door, but the door was broken so it didn't close enough to lock, which meant no extra effort to gain access. Once at the apartment, you found the door already open. You had taken the stairs at a swift jog so how the hell you'd been beaten up there was anyone's guess. You put your hand on your gun. “Mike?” you asked quietly into the apartment. “Yeah.” You enter. Reggie, the target, was in his late twenties and pretty fat, wearing a security guard uniform and for a pretty high-end outfit to boot. He was also sweating and huffing... like he'd sprinted up the stairs, you guessed. He was sitting at the small kitchen table covered in junk, facing away from the door. Mike was behind him, his gun drawn but by his side. “All good?” You ask Mike. He nods. Reggie twisted in his seat, awkwardly around his own bulk, to look at you. “You cops?” He demanded. “Got a warrant?” “Hey,” Mike warned. “Watch your manners.” “No, and moot but also no. But do you remember when you got picked up by the cops a while back?” “No big deal, so I get a little rowdy on my long weekends. Didn't even charge me with anything.” “Not what I was talking about.” “The bank robbers? I got nothing to do with them.” A lie. “Well, unlike our mutual friend the police detective, I'm not a drunken incompetent. So here's what we're going to do- I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Unlike a lot of interrogators, we're super patient and understanding so we won't torture the poo poo out of you if we think you're lying. Just as long as you keep talking.” “If- if you're not cops, why are you doing this?” Reggie asked nervously, sweating even more. “Who do a white chick and a bl- uh, African American man work together for?” Mike let out a rumbling sound. “He dislikes it when people qualify his American-ness.” You say to Mike, “I'm totally in your corner, man, but please let me work here. Ok? Can we focus Reggie? Can you do that for me? So you know the bank robbers who have been in the news.” “No.” He said adamantly. “Yes,” you correct him. “Are they located in L.A.?” “No.” “Yes, they are. Okay, do you know where to find them?” “No, because I don't-” “Just the no is enough. And drat. Did you talk to them here in Van Nuys?” “I didn't talk to anyone.” “No one needs to hear your stupid bullshit. I am a living lie detector. If there were an Olympic sport in seeing through dumb garbage they would just ship all the medals to my house every time. So you really need to start playing ball or no one will leave happy- very least of all you.” Reggie looks stricken. “I'm not talking, they're like their own underground army. They've got a loving horrible reputation too, there was a kid, who stole out of cars, didn't even steal the car, all he took was the radio and they parked the car in front of his house and torched it with him in it.” “That does sound pretty bad, but you have heard of witness protection right?" “Man, the cops wouldn't be able to protect me...” You give him a look. “A new name on your driver's license in a new state and you're indistinguishable from every other fat white guy in America.” Agitated, Reggie is silent for a while, fidgeting while he thinks. “You're not cops?” “No, but I know some. I'll put you in touch if you're willing to help.” Reggie swallows. “Okay, if you'll make sure I'm safe.” “Hey, what a breakthrough! Now,” you say. “Van Nuys. You talked to them here?.” Breathing hard, he eventually answers. “Yes.” “Your security company, do they do armored cars?” “No.” “Hmm. They were hitting armored cars, so you weren't actually involved in those. Does your company get bank contracts?” “Yes.” Mike interjected. “He's willing to talk, let's just let him tell us what he knows.” “No way, I'm having fun with this now. Are you working at a bank now?” “Yes.” “Ahh, and let me guess, they contacted you after their last armored car job. So you weren't a part of the those robberies. Instead, they were trying to get an inside man for a future job, probably a bank heist.” Reggie slumped even further in his seat. “Did they talk to you more than once?” “Yes.” “Before or after you admitted to being involved with them and getting pinched?” “...Before.” “Oops, that wasn't a yes or no question. And no contact since?” “No.” “They probably got wind of your accidental leak and nixed the job- but don't worry that was long enough ago that they would have killed you by now if they were going to. We can't do poo poo if they've left the city so let's assume they're still in the city. Did you talk to all four of them?” “No, only one.” “Was he...” You screw up your face and make a show of really wracking your brain. “Caucasian, just under six feet, brown hair?” Reggie stared incredulously. “How did you guess that?” “Didn't; news showed some security cam footage of one of their and in it their body language suggested he was the one giving orders.” “Oh.” “Did you manage to see how their traveled to your meeting.” “It was in a gray four-door, pretty sure it was a Toyota.” “Oh poo poo. Did it look like a rental?” “Not a rental, it looked a little beat up, scratches and stuff. ” “Get the license plate?” He shook his head. “That's still something.” “There's probably thousands of gray Toyotas in the city.” Mike argued. “But that's narrowed down from millions of cars of all colors and makes. Plus it tells us they get around by car.” “In L.A.? How else would they?” “Well, even confirming the most probable scenario isn't nothing.” Reggie is a complete pushover- you can read him like a book and he cracks pretty much instantly with an offer of protection. Spycraft has rules for a number of “Dramatic Conflicts” which are like little mini-games to play out certain scenarios like interrogations, chases, or a manhunt like we're going to do, with more elaborate mechanics. Sides in a dramatic conflict are divided into predator or prey, basically the “offensive” and “defensive” parties. The distance of the predator from achieving their goal is measured by the conflict Lead; the conflict ends when the Lead drops to 0 (and the predator wins) or reaches 10 (and the prey wins) or if a side succeeds with certain tactics. Each round, both side chooses a Strategy they will pursue and make rolls against each other. Based on which strategy they chose, the winner then gains advantages based on their Strategy. In a manhunt these can range from increasing or decreasing the Lead, manipulating public support, learning secrets about the other party, etc. Choose your approach for finding the robbers: A- Go public You've found a willing witness; bring law enforcement in and work with them openly. This puts a lot of control over the investigation in their hands and probably much of any eventual credit, but will give you lots more investigative resources and legal protection for working honestly within the law. B- Quiet Partnership Investigate on your own and pass information quietly as needed to the cops. Let's you do the legwork as you see fit but leaves the mess of apprehending the guys to LA SWAT and hides the involvement of a certain shady "security company". C- Jack Bauer It You've got weapons and people who can use them, history shows that's all you need to enforce the law.
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May 17, 2015 11:44
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