A Little Look See
GM: Vulcan
Players: Kassandra, Slinger, Julian, Johny (Cameo only)
Synopsis: The players are hired to do something for the enigmatic Mrs. Browning.
Date: September 6th, 2069

Denver (UCAS Contiguous Sector)
Front Range Free Zone

Johny eyes the dossiers, looking over at Mrs. Browning. He flips through them… "Unreliable." A toss. "Dead." A toss. "Dead because she was unreliable." A toss. A heartbeats pause. "Aztlan Agent." Another toss, thought that one gets swept up by an aide.

"Why did you leave the agency in the first place, Von Dieter?" Asks the prim, controlled and tight faced woman.

"If you don't know." Answers Johny as he sets 3 dossiers aside. "Then you don't have enough clearance." He looks up to her then. "Try not to let it eat at you much." he says as he stands up. "I'll vouch for you, get you these runners here. Beyond that, its your show. Don't make me look bad."

It's Sunday Afternoon before Labor Day, and so most people would be relaxing, getting drunk, or otherwise taking it easy. Kassandra, never having been a normal person, is currently on top of a barn in the middle of the Ute sector hammering in a loose board. The elven girl seems oblivious to the winds and height, nimbly moving along the structure as if she were some sort of larger-than-normal squirrel/elf hybrid. A pocket secretary is relating information to her in an electronic voice, going over her notes, her mail, recent news and rumor.

Slinger is actually grocery shopping, strangely enough. Even badass mages gotta eat. He's down at the local Powerfoods store, gathering up some supplies for himself and for Orpheus. The kid has no idea how to shop, it would seem, and still hasn't mastered the art of paying for things. Slinger smiles with amusement. Even so, his eyes keep careful watch around him. Never know when you'll have to stunbolt a robber, in this part of town, somebody desperate who snuck out of the Sprawl to cause chaos. All the heavy gear, though, is out in the SUV in the hidden compartment, nice and secure.

Julian is holed up in Storage Unit 3 of the Mustang Ranch, sipping kaf and casually tapping keys on his cyberdeck's keyboard. The screen is dirty, smudged, and the casing has started to crack, but the picture is magnificent. A search program is running, flagging all instances of the words "Cal Free State" for the last 24 hours and spitting out the most popular results. He sets his chipped mug aside and snatches up the remains of a half-eaten hotdog, wolfing it down.

Telephones ring. Of course you don't recognize the number; Johny changes phones more often than most people change their underclothes. It's somewhat pricey, but its a good policy in a world where cellphones are basically the perfect tracking and eavesdropping tool. Kassandra's phone rings, perfectly timed with the downstroke of the hammer.

Pausing after the first hit of the hammer, Kass considers the phone and the relay of the unknown number. "Answer, voice only. Record." Turning to the device, the elven woman answers in a quiet voice, toying with the hammer as she speaks, "Silk. You have ten seconds to get to the point."

"You say the sweetest things." Says Johny, chuckling quietly. "Up for a job? Not mine, but I vouch for the employer."


Smiling, Kass moves closer to the phone and remarks, "A job, and you thought of me, eh? That fills me with happiness and trepidation." Considering the sun a moment, she shrugs even if he can't see it. "Sure, why not. I need to keep my name in the air. Where are we meeting?"

"20309 Espana, suite 120. It's near Triangle Park. Come dressed business casual." Says Johny as he eyes Mrs. Browning's raised eyebrow at the exchange. "1 hour."

"On my way." With that, Silk ends the call and goes back to driving the last few nails home before getting down and getting ready for business. Never start one job before the other is finished.

Johny kills the call on his end, then comments. "Thats your command and control. She's solid. Better than me, but without my augmentations."

"Thats high praise." Says Browning, her lips drawn in to a tight line.

"Don't repeat it, she'll get a big head."

A pause as Johny dials Slinger's number…

Slinger answers the phone with his customary, "Yo!" Just a simple greeting that gives no information, except recognition to those who know him. There's the sound of muzak in the background.

"Mr. Grey." Says Johny's voice. "If you're not otherwise engaged, I've a business opportunity for you to pursue. Business Casual, "20309 Espana, suite 120 in the UCAS Contiguous. It's not my job, but I can promise that you won't be shafted by the employer…" A pause as he looks back to Mrs. Browning. "1 Hour. In or out?"

Slinger thinks he recognizes the voice. "In, most likely. If this is who I think it is." Business Casual. That means shirt and tie, if Slinger remembers right. That's okay — he did a little shopping recently along those lines. "I'll be there." It certainly /sounds/ like Johny, especially the in-or-out comment." One hour oughtta give him just enough time to pay for his purchases, get them home, unpack them, get dressed, and head there — if he leaves this instant. Which he does.

"See you then." Says Johny as he kills the call. "That, was your magical support. He's arrogant, he's devil-may-care, but he's also a portable nuke. A thing against killing, but he's got enough other avenues that he can usually avoid it. But thats why I have the next man." He says, dialing up Julian's number.

"Thank you for calling Praetorian Tactical Solutions. If you know your party's three digit extension, you may dial it now. Otherwise, please hold, and the next available representative will assist you." The voice is genderless, toneless, electronic. Julian pauses what he feels is an appropriate amount of time, using the opportunity to gulp down the last of his kaf. Then his transducer begins again, converting thought to speech. "Thank you for calling Praetorian Tactical Solutions, this is Fharod, how may I assist you?"

Johny eyes his phone for a moment, debating. "Wrong Number." He says, then closes the line. Johny shakes his head. "Never mind that."

The cellphone begins to ring.

Johny eyes the cellphone, then answers it. "Tim and Toms Taxidermy, you snuff it we stuff it, how can I direct your call?"

Slinger meanwhile proceeds to execute his plan. Paying for the items can't happen fast enough, and the youth is impatient as his purchases scan. Slotting his credstick — the new one, the one he's trying to build up in power — he carries the items out of the store in the cart — a design which hasn't changed in decades, loads them into the SUV, and resists the urge to use magic to handle this.
Spirits can be useful, but they don't tend to exercise proper caution with the eggs.

The toneless voice begins. "I see you are as cautious as I am. I respect that. Since I am almost certain a real taxidermist would have no need of my services, I think I can safely get to the point. Call me Julian, now that you have my attention."

Silk spends the time before the meeting getting dressed and made up for the meeting. A number of bags are send in the direction of the meet via vehicle and remote, while the elf herself takes private air transportation, Mustang Sally dropping her off so that another air taxi can move her to the meeting proper.

"Can the Drek." Says johny then, rolling his eyes. "This is Nacht. I have work. If you want it, dress business casual and be at 20309 Espana, suite 120 in the UCAS Contiguous. 15 minutes. " Sometimes, it's nice to the one who can jerk peoples chains. "In or out?"

Mrs. Browning manages to refrain from an ingracious smirk.

"You know I could never turn you down, Nacht…" Julian is already in motion, shutting down his deck for transport, and moving around the storage unit collecting gear. "…Although I would like to have a word with you about one of your rules… the one about carnal relations and trolls?" He fills a bag and moves to the door. "15 minutes. 20309 Espana. I'll be there."

"Take it up with my editor." Says johny as he clicks off the phone. "That, is your big lumbering hulk of a troll covert operations agent. Between the three of them… you have your team." Says Johny then as he turns for the door. "Make the big guy wait in a room with no trix-access or magazines, watch him go crazy. Don't mind the male elfs smoking and try not to piss off the female. She's dangerous." he says with a grin as he steps out the door. "Ta."

The area commonly called Triangle Towers is a business park catering to the many fly-by-night companies that spring up in the 6th world. With short-term leasing options and the ability to fly under the radar, while still giving the veneer of respectability, Triangle Towers are the next best thing to being an actual profit generating venture.

The three towers are 15, 20 and 25 stories tall, staggered in an ascending staircase to the east. Parking is below ground and controlled.

Julian trades in his street clothes for the nicest clothing he owns. A pair of pleated Khaki slacks and a black shirt, matching tie and shoes. He tosses his gear into the GMC and starts it up, driving quickly to the meet. He pulls into the lot, climbing out of the van and locking the door. He steps into the building doing his best to look like he belongs. Soundlessly, processes begin to take place in his head. His eyes broadcast an Ultrasound pulse that bounces off of walls and back to the receiver in the other eye. The information stored is processed by an orientation system in his arm, and the result is a makeshift map of the building that begins to take shape in his headware memory and display in one corner of his vision. First order of business is to find a printed floorplan and locate the correct suite.


Plans and gear in motion, Silk's airtaxi arrives at the meeting building (or one very close by) within 10 minutes of meeting time. She'll make sure to primp before taking the elevator down to the twentieth floor, her heels clicking as she moves towards the room.

Elsewhere, automated and autonav vehicles and delivery people place gear in locations she can easily get to from here, and also provide for evac should things get dicey. The elven woman checks the building as she goes through, dressed in The Little Black Dress, appropriate for any meeting.

Slinger selects something that is less than flashy. Just a dark grey suitcoat, along with a lighter grey-blue shirt. And a nice red tie with some color in it. Much as he would prefer to go in his usual - and comfortable — T-shirt and jeans, and use his magic to handle the problem of being well-dressed, in this case he has to go for the real thing. He dresses, makes sure he has plenty of cancer sticks with him, and smokes on the way to the meeting. Passing through borders shouldn't present too much of an issue, with the SUV nicely registered to his fake identity, at least according to the transponder preset he has selected. And he proceeds to the towers in question. He approaches the parking garage, with the plan being that, hopefully, he should be expected.

No one encounters any resistance or specific assistance on their way to the 12th floor of the central building. Suite #120 is listed as EVE Productions, which if anyone does a quick google search on, they will find makes a variety of 'educational' films aimed at middle schoolers all across the UCAS, though they are now finding acceptance in the Sioux Nation with their new brand of 'Lakota Warrior' series.

Julian finds the correct suite and disengages his ultrasound, locking in the most direct route back the way he came. He slips into the suite, ducking smoothly through the doorway and glances around for any sign of a contact, all while trying to be as inconspicuous as a nicely-dressed troll with snow-white mutton chops can be.

Which is: not very.

Arriving on the correct floor with little to no fuss, Kassandra makes her way to the suite in question. The dress is casual, but classy, stylish without being overbearing. She has the appropriate make-up and jewelry for the meeting, with various silver rings, earings, and other accessories.

Mr. J. Ulian will be greeted by a fresh faced, cute little human girl. She'll show Julian to a featureless room with only a mirror for decoration, a stainless steel table, and 4 chairs. 1 in front, 3 behind the table. He will be left there for 45 minutes, while the others arrive later.

Kassandra will be greeted by the same girl, and shown to the same room, but she won't be waiting for 45 minutes.

Lakota Warriors… those sound intriguing. Conjuring up images for Slinger that he had best not contemplate during a business meeting. He proceeds to the suite in question, giving a quick knock before he steps inside; one doesn't know the size of what lies behind. For small suites, best to knock. For larger ones, one simply enters. He arrives very close to on time, with perhaps a minute or two to spare. Cutting it down to the wire, but he's clean and well-dressed as he enters the room. The young girl, though, gets a glance from the teenager through the astral.

Julian tests one of the chairs before he sits on it, and once satisfied it will support his weight, he lowers himself down and crosses his arms… and that's how he sits for the duration of his waiting period. His head moves slowly, taking in the room. Inside his head, mental impulses run from device to device. A new opticam he's had installed in his eye records footage in a range of visual spectrum, saving it to his memory module to be played back in a small window in his field of vision, then deleted from the drive. He does this over and over and over again, practicing the commands and processes.

Slinger will be the last shown in to the room, by the same girl, where Kassandra and Julian will be waiting once the poses catch up with the scene.

Once shown in, Kassandra's gaze sweeps the room with practiced ease before moving to a seat. She'll nod soberly to Julian, factoring in the mutton-chopped man's presence in with Johny calling her. That tells her a good deal of what she needs to know about the mission in question. She'll seat herself and wait quietly for the Johnson.

Slinger seats himself as well, dropping down into a chair, then leaning back casually. Since Johny told him this run was safe, he isn't bothering with a lot of his usual precautions — such as appearing in disguise. It wouldn't do, in this case, to offend his host. At least, not /before/ the meeting. So at the moment, he simply waits for the arrival of the one who is paying the bill for this particular job.

Slinger also does give a warm smile to Silk, however, a nod of greeting, but avoids making small talk. After all, we are almost certainly being watched and monitored. A glance toward the troll follows, with less sense of familiarity.

Once the three are in the room, a door in the far wall opens and Mrs. Browning enters. She's a middle aged woman, with a high-and-tight hair style, wire rimmed glasses and a skirt that comes to her knees. "Good afternoon." She says simply, pertly. She's not antyhing you would ever see as a fashion model; instead, you might expect 'school teacher'.

"I am Control for this mission."

Silk nods with a smile to Slinger as he enters and gets situated, another piece of the puzzle. She too refrains from commenting, instead turning to look over Mrs. Browning as she enters and introduces herself as 'Control' for the mission. That raises some internal alarms and questions, none of which she'll vocalize. Instead, she'll offer a short nod as a greeting to the woman, folding her hands on the tabletop.

Julian nods simply, snapping a picture with his opticam and saving it to a file on his headware. Other then that, he is still and silent.

Slinger never went to school, formally, but even so the stereotype is part of the cultural heritage that forms the collective knowledge. "Yes, ma'am," Slinger acknowledges, unusually polite and formal — for him, anyway. Control. Interesting term. Slinger has not worked much in the intelligence community, but he knows enough to know the origin of that term. He sits up a little straighter.

Mrs. Browning takes the chair that is opposite the other three. "You all come highly recommended, in varying degrees. I will dispense with some degree of the formalities accordingly. This mission takes place in the California Free State. The asset risk ratio is acceptable for in-house operation, but we are light on available assets. As such, I am empowered to hire independent contractors. The mission budget is 60,000 nuyen, inclusive of transport to the theater, and transport out provided non-combat extraction."

Silk raises an eyebrow at the budget and associated transport. She doesn't seem overly concerned or suprised at the location of the mission, but seems to be waiting for something — perhaps more information, or the other members concerns.

Julian just nods and listens. He perks up at the payout, nodding his head for now.

Slinger nods thoughtfully, leans back in his seat a little more as he contemplates. "This is related to the Gold strike," he guesses, glancing up to the woman for confirmation. "Unless I miss my guess. I wouldn't mind seeing the Japanese experience a setback or two," he adds, with a lazy grin on his face, a glance to the others. The pay is generous, however, but he lets Silk handle any negotiations. She's good at that sort of thing.

"This is not related to the gold strike claims, save tangentially. You will not be operating in the Japanese theater, though if you prove as reliable as claimed, your services may be retained by my company." A pause. "This action will be on the Ute/CFS border on Montgomery Peak." Says the woman, her face an impassive mask, betraying nothing of her personal thoughts. "Recently, a EI listening post went offline after registering conflicting data. My company wishes this team to investigate the listening post, and return it to operational status if possible, or destroy it entirely, if not."

Julian speaks up. "I'll take my payment in equipment, if it's all the same to you." He considers for a moment, then goes quiet for the time being.

She nods. "Then you agree to my pay scale. This is good."
Hmmm. Silk considers the data about the listening post, eyes flicking towards Julian as he speaks up about how he wants his payment and Mrs. Browning's return remark. The elven girl ask quietly, "What sort of transport are we looking at into the area? What other restrictions or qualifications are contingent on this mission? What are the rules of engagement?"

She turns then to look at Silk. "Company assets local to the region will provide transport to an undisclosed location near the theater. Non military, civilian accomodations. Restrictions are that you are to, in no circumstances, stray across the Ute Nation Border or engage CFS personnel on the ground. Should you be fired upon, you are to defend your team and effect an extraction at your first possible ability. ROE are that you do not exist, and should you be captured, this company will disavow all knowledge of your actions."

Slinger nods thoughtfully. "The mission sounds doable, assuming we have the right information to get it operational. But it sounds like it has been compromised. Which means that there's a question whether you can trust the hardware at all. If the opposition has had access to it, it's hard to ensure that it's ever going to be secure again, without a complete check of the systems. I have some electronics background, though." But his attention remains on Silk for the moment, and on the woman's response. "I assume the listening post itself is very covert. One that should not exist, according to either side."

Silk leans back as Slinger speaks and waits for Mrs. Browning's response. She seems thoughtfull about it all, mulling over the data they've been given so far as well as Johny's involvement in the affair.

Julian nods. "If it needs to be reprogrammed or rebooted, I should be able to interface with the equipment." He shrugs. "Guess I'll leave my gun at home."

"THe listening post is as covert as it can be. The CFS regional government turns a blind eye to it, but it is known to the Ute Nation. Unless the UTe Nation has suddenly become interested in cross-border adventurism, this should be BAU. Our projections show that the Ute Nation does not have the political will to mount such an operation. Prior to its shut down, the listening post recorded a full battalion of Ute Troops with aero-space support operating in or near the town of Basalt. We consider this to be an error symptomatic of the malfunction."

Julian nods as he listens, the wheels in his brain turning.

Slinger slowly frowns, and glances around the table. "All right. I'm going to lay my cards on the table, ma'am. While I consider myself likely very capable of being of use in this mission, the trouble is that I'm not a military nor a political expert. I am a mojo-slinger. And I don't pretend to be what I'm not. You're throwing around acronyms like BAU — most of the others I could figure out, but I got no idea what that one is," he admits.
He reaches into his pocket for his pack of smokes. "I don't know the geography. Or who's mad at whom this week, or who's fighting who, or who's allied with whom. Things that you strategic guys take for granted, I don't know squat about. I'm pure tactical. I'm willin' to learn, but I need it spelled out for me," he admits.

She purses her lips. "Business as usual."

Julian speaks simply. "I do."

Silk watches the interplay between Browning and Slinger, neither commenting on the woman's use of spook/government/military terms nor Slinger's lack of familiarity with the region and the words. She comments instead, "I am in." Nothing more, no embellishment.

Julian straightens up before continuing. "I've been studying the Cal Free and the Ute Nation since the first announcement of gold. I know most of what is publically available, and what /isn't/ doesn't really factor into this. We aren't going to play guerrilla, we're going to fix a com station. For that, all we need is some tools, some know how, and a good map." He nods. "I'm in too."

Browning nods to Julian and Silk, then looks back to Slinger. "I am not in a position to hold your hand, young man. I will assume that your compatriots will have the knowledge you do not. They can, or should, fill you in for the details you feel you lack." She looks back to Silk and Julian… "Maps, time frames, logistical concerns and data chips will be provided by Ms. Majors outside in the lobby."

She stands. "Good day."

As she stands, so does Slinger, looking rather embarrassed. But there isn't time for everything, and it's the sort of thing he's bad at. Current events. This is a kid who doesn't even trust half of what's on the news, having learned enough to know that a lot of it is fake, but not yet enough to find sources for what is real. He inclines his head, giving his agreement, then turns his attention to the others as we depart. "All right. So I'm an idiot," he admits, a little defensively.

Silk smiles and shakes her head, "You aren't an idiot. This just isn't your area of speciality. Some people use words as buffers, to show how they shine or to obfuscate the situation. You'll do fine once we get into the field, omae, so concentrate on that." She motions towards the lobby and where Majors will undoubtably be. "Let's get what we need and get moving?"

Without other word or comment, Ms. Browning turns for the door she came in, leaving the featureless, sterile room behind.

Julian grins. "Don't beat yourself up kid… I only know what I know because I'm trying to stay ahead of the curve." He stands to follow the others. "Guys like me have to work twice as hard to stay competetive." He steps out into the lobby to collect his copy of the chip, reaching over to open the cover of the chipjack in his arm.

The young girl who guided you all in, stands in the lobby, a smile on her features as the contractors come out. "Hello! I'm Mandy Majors, and on behalf of everyone, welcome to EVE productions! Here's your orientation package! Please, take a few hours and look them over. I'm sure someone in Human Resources will be with you in a few hours for follow up! I'm -pleased- to have you aboard!"

Slinger nods, still looking embarassed. "Yeah," he agrees, but falls silent until we are out of earshot, when he adds, "I wouldn't mind learning, if you can explain it. I'll admit it — I know a little about who the Sioux are. Know dick and squat about the Ute, other than that they're all mystical and Native and stuff. You've got the Pueblo and stuff in there somewhere. But I have no idea who's mad at who, who's allied with who, who ate whose birthday cake without permission. And where all the tensions are, both overt and covert. Hell, a map of the area might help me a lot," he admits with a sheepish grin.
But he falls silent once we're out in the lobby area, and glances over at the others. "Human resources?" he asks, warily. "Am I getting… you know, like /hired/? 'Cause I ain't fillin' out forms," he points out.

Julian takes his chips and slots them, closing the cover of the chipjack and letting the data flow. As he walks towards whatever Silk designates as the prep area, he goes over the data. "Maybe I better bring my rifle after all…"

Accepting the orientation package from the happy girl, Silk slots any chips into her work secretary and considers the data quietly, nodding to Slinger and Julian as they step over to a private corner of the lobby. She hmms and nods to the data, remarking, "With luck we can slide in and out without conflict. That'd be grand, really."

Julian nods. "I'll bring my weapon just in case. Not sure what I'm gonna /do/ with it, if we aren't allowed to engage ground forces, but I'll bring it."

Slinger nods quietly. "Or if we have to, then we make sure to cover our tracks well," the youth agrees. He'll flip through the orientation packets as well, on his pocket secretary, trying to get his bearings and figure out the lay of the land, so to speak.

The chips will reveal that you have 12 hours until you embark for the town of Bishop, in the Cal Free State. From there, you will travel overland about 50 miles to the town of Benton, where upon you will have to hike the mountain itself. The hike will take at least a full day, you will camp on the mountain at least one night, summit the second day and locate the listening post.

Slinger nods thoughtfully. "What sort of magical opposition we facing? Anybody see that? And we'll need stuff to destroy the listening post. I could summon an elemental, but that tends to be flashy, and not necessarily all that thorough," he comments. "Got, you know, actual explosives?"

There are no notations for above-normal magical activity.

Hmming at the hike and camp, Silk sifts through the data in search of any assigned camping gear, making copious notes on what she'll need if nothing has been provided. She considers Slinger's question and shakes her head. "I don't have any explosives, no. Stopped dealing it it, myself. Course, a place like this might be rigged for a contingency like this."

Julian goes over the mission data, bringing up the map in particular, familiarizing himself with the terrain… questions swirl in his head. "I have C12… but assuming none of the equipment is damaged, I'm confident we can return the installation to working order…" He considers for a moment. "I suppose we wont need cover identities on this? Unless we run afoul of any park rangers."

Slinger considers that. "Unless we got Awakened park rangers, we can probably handle anybody who shows up. I can invis us pretty well. And yeah, that assumes they can afford stuff like that," he adds with a sigh. "Personally, I'd love to do something to help Freecal, but they're pretty screwed. They and Ute both seem to be, from what I read in here."

"They are doing better than some nations." Silk keeps making notes, remarking, "May want to travel relatively light if we are playing climb the mountain and hiking." She shrugs as if it is no matter to her, tapping the stylus thoughtfully.

Julian Does Legwork

«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Ute Nation Politics + Task Pool: 1:
2 2 3 3
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Ute Nation Politics + Task Pool: 1 for "KP1/14 Rough Start":
2 2 5 5

«OOC» Julian says, "Garbage"

«OOC» Julian says, "I'll stand"
The Ute Nation. ARn't they poor and anti-anglo? Yeah… but damn, they got las vegas! Whooo!
«OOC» Julian will do an info search
«OOC» Vulcan says, "Okay. Roll me your computers. I'll allow TP, but I'm not going to allow HP."
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Computers + Task Pool: 1:
2 3 3 3 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Computers + Task Pool: 1 for "KP 2/14":
1 3 4 7 7
«OOC» Vulcan says, "Also, your exact search peramiters."
«OOC» Julian says, "Stand"
«OOC» Julian says, "Recent Troop Movements within 100 Miles of Montgomery Peak"

3 pages of Boy Scout Troops. Unfortunately, troop movements are considered to be classified data, and you're not going to get that on a google search without a dedicated, specific run on military servers.

Julian pulls the plug from his neck, blinking awake after a datadive. "Damn… came up dry." He sighs and shrugs. "Suppose I could make a pass at a few surveillance satellites, but it'd take a lot longer then we have, and I'd probably get myself cooked."

Kassandra does her thang

<OOC» Kassandra will check with Professor Running Bear and Alice Davis (Green/Eco Interest) about the area we are interested in
«OOC» Vulcan says, "+prove please?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) has the Contact Alice Davis with the following information:
Contact Name: Alice Davis
Level: 1
Type: fixer
GM Note: Alice Davis uses the fixer contact information from SR3 (Intelligence 5 Negotiations 7 etc). While she doesnt have a speciality or specific for code purposes she works for the Green Party and Green interests. Any runs she does will be related to the enviroment animal safety and so forth and she mostly gets gear that deals with survival issues paracritters and so forth.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) has the Contact Ronnie Running Bear with the following information:
Contact Name: Ronnie Running Bear
Level: 1
Type: teacher
GM Note: Professor Ronnie (Veronica) Running Bear teaches at the University of Ute at Boulder with classes in Archeology and Thaumaturgy, specializing in Artifact Creation.

Professor Running Bear also teaches students on the side, giving special lessons to those who seek knowledge. She is versed in both Native American Traditions and Wicca.

She has the following stats: Intelligence 6, Willpower 6, Sorcery 6, Conjuring 5, Enchanting 8, Instruction 6, Talismongering 7, Magical Background 6. The professor is a Grade 3 Initiate (Magic 9) with the following Metamagics: Anchoring, Channeling, and Invoking.

The professor is willing to teach for the standard rates to those who she is introduced to. In addition, she is a source of information for the Ute Nation, Native American and Wiccan tradtions and magical information, as well as information about the University in Boulder.

«Auto-Judge[]» Vulcan (#3087) rolls 6 for "Does Ronnie know anything….":
1 1 4 5 11 13
"The area is pretty, but it's not much in terms of magical activity. There are minor power lines feeding out of the desert in to the Mojave, following the valley, but nothing that would be out of line for its geography. I had a few of my students called up to the active reserve though, so I know somethings happening… just not what." Says Ronnie.

"Thank you very much, Professor, for this. I had overlooked that it was a pretty spot and one that might have some significance magically. With luck, I might get to go look at it myself, if nothing else for the view!"

«Auto-Judge[]» Vulcan (#3087) rolls 5 for "Alice":
1 2 4 4 11

"Oh, man, thats up near mono lake! There was a big to-do back at the turn of the century as farmers sucked off the water for the lake. When the Awakening came, the lake just… refilled. No one knows from where, it just expanded back to its old borders, at one point nearly swamping a small town on its borders. I don't know much about the area, but I know a few of my friends had their visa's revoked recently, for no real reason." Says Alice.

Kass huhs, "That's strange! I've heard of forests growing, but I hadn't even thought that a lake would refill! It sounds like a great place to take a look at first-hand."

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