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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

From: David Buehrer dbuehrer@******
Subject: The Challenge
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 08:42:52 -0600 (MDT)
There was a hard tug and Frank vaulted over the razor wire and hit hard
on the other side, landing in the puddle he had been lamenting about
earlier. He tried not to listen to Ralph's dying screams as the piasma
shook his head from side to side with Ralph clenched firmly in his
jaws. Frank's owner stood in the puddle, hands on his knees, as he
tried to catch his breath."

The piasma dropped what was left of Ralph and gazed hungrily at the owner.

The owner crossed himself, took one last look at the piasma, and
started to limp home.

The next day Frank sat on the floor of the owner's apartment, alone with
his grief, when the door opened and the owner came in, a box under his arm.

The owner picked up Frank, walked over to the couch, sat down, and put
Frank on. Then he opened the box and took out a new boot and put it on
the other foot. He stood up and walked back and forth a few times,
testing the feel of the new boot. It would take awhile to break in,
but it was a good fit.

"Man, is it good to be out of that box. Hey... this isn't an army
barracks. Where in the hell am I? What's the heck is going on here?"

"Hi there kid. My name's Frank. Your new owner is what they call a

"A Shadowrunner?! Aw jeez, I was looking forward to being in the army and
getting some excitement out of life."

"Believe me kid, you'll have plenty of excitement soon enough. Plenty of
excitement. Enjoy the quiet while you can. Enjoy life while you can for
that matter. Cuz it could be over before you know it."

"Jeez mister. You sure are a grump. I wish I was in the army with the
other guys from the factory."

"Kid..." Frank began, preparing to shred the newbie up and down, caught
himself and took a deep breath. "Kid, life may be greener on the other
side of the fence, but that doesn't mean it's better. Be happy with
what you got."

From Ereskanti@***.com Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 12:26:37 EDT
From: Ereskanti@***.com Ereskanti@***.com
Subject: The Challenge

In a message dated 4/13/99 2:31:49 AM US Eastern Standard Time, drea_@***.net

> Pink`
> Hope you guys liked it.

Pink, I enjoyed this one greatly. Maybe today folks...maybe today...


From lightfinger@****.com Wed, 14 Apr 1999 13:36:54 -0500
Date: Wed, 14 Apr 1999 13:36:54 -0500
From: David D. West lightfinger@****.com
Subject: Look DVixen! I Posted A Story! :-)

I walk into the sleazy bar, dressed completely out of place. Most of
the patrons of this establishment wear leather, real or synthetic,
whereas I am dressed in a blue business suit. Sunglasses cover my eyes,
even in this dimly lit room.

I walk to an empty table against the wall. Setting my briefcase next
to my chair's leg, and against the wall, I turn to watch the door.
Some waitress walked up to take my order, but I wave her off. She
smiles knowingly and heads back to the bar, whispering to the bartender
and pointing out where I am sitting. All standard procedure, though I
do not crack a smile at this fact.

A half an hour later, after being subjected to ugly women stripping for
the patrons and plenty of lousy music ringing in my ears, my attention
is drawn to the group entering the bar. My hopes are quickly dashed as
the group numbers ten. I let out a small sigh as my instincts tell me
these are the people I am to meet.

As I was assured, instead of just looking for the out-of-place man in
the strip club, they go and ask the bartender where I am sitting.
Thanks to the waitress earlier, he points in my direction. I sit up
straighter, and get my tie aligned properly as the massive group
approaches my table.

I evaluate the group as they come closer. Two trolls, both with as much
cyberware as possible without being a mindless zombie, are behind the
group. A couple of elves, a dwarf, and five humans comprise the
rest. One elf and the dwarf both wear runes over their clothing,
pointing out to all that see them that they are hermetic mages. One of
the humans wears talismans all over her clothing, making her out to be
a shaman of some sort. I wish I can show my disgust, but I am a

The group pulls up chairs, virtually surrounding me. Immediately, the
two hermetics zone out, going astral to see my aura and to look for
magical bodyguards. They do not find anything except my headware, I am
sure, so I do not care. They do not think about possible mundane things
in these situations, only the magical.

Their appointed leader starts, "I hear you have a job for us."

I turn to him, "Yes. An extraction, it will be friendly. I am
authorized to pay no more than 150,000 nuyen."

The elf without symbols suddenly pipes up, "We don't work for less than
30k a piece."

Next, one of the trolls says, "I say we ask 50k a person."

Thankfully, with my sunglasses on, they cannot see my eyes ro


These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.