Wildside

Sage Advice

“Every run is an audition for the next one.”

- Every Fixer ever

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Are you a Friend of Humanity?

If you are a Friend of Humanity, you are not alone. We at Humanis Policlub are here for YOU, the common man on the street. You don’t have fancy magics, aristocratic blood or inhuman strength? Well, neither do we, but we have something far more powerful: FAITH IN MANKIND. Together, we are many. Humanis Policlub membership has risen dramatically in the past few months, which shows that there actually are many out there that think the same way you do!

Wait, aren’t you a bunch of racists?

Nothing could be further from the truth! Racists are people who believes that some humans are racially superior to others. We are not nazis, we believe that ALL HUMANS ARE EQUAL. We have the same genetics, it doesn’t matter if you’re black or white, asian or hispanic.

But we also do not ignore or deny the basic fact of life: UGE and Goblinization is real. These mutations have created new species, which are called Elves, Dwarves, Orks and Trolls, inspired by ancients myths and fantasy creatures. Darwin predicted mutations like this in his theory of evolution, some offshoots are genetically inferior and will die out, and some creates a new species that can in some cases outperform and eliminate the old. The Neanderthals of old were stronger and hairier than us, HOMO SAPIENS, also known as humans. Despite this, our superior intellect, teamwork, and ability to adapt allowed our species to dominate this planet. We in Humanis Policlub strive to make sure our species is protected from any form of mutant that could endanger our future.

What’s the problem with metahumans?

In an ideal world we would all be the same, and everyone would love and accept one another. Unfortunately, reality is not like that. We all know ORKS are physically strong, matures fast, and are spawned in large litters. Orks are overrepresented in crime, especially violent crime. They pay less taxes, perform worse in academic settings, and their numbers are increasing fast compared to human births. Statistics show that orks will outnumber humans in as little as 50 years. We have also registered several accounts of humans goblinizing into orks becoming excessively violent, often attacking their friends and loved ones, although liberal groups such as ORC and Sons of Sauron try to cover up these stories. Overpopulation and ork gangbanging can not be overlooked as a problem in our society. Do you have a ork gang problem in your area? See our flyer on Humanis Neighbourhood Watch groups, and how you can contribute to a safer environment for your fellow man.

Trolls are thankfully less aggressive, but also a lot stronger and more dangerous. Most trolls can easily tip over a car. They simply do not fit into human society, usually breaking things with their massive strength and size. In a kindergarten in Louisville, a little girl died after her troll playmate sat on her in an unsupervised moment.

It does not help that trolls on average have the mental faculties of a child, many are legally retarded. Would you want to have a retarded child next to yours that can easily crush the skull of an adult human with it’s bare fists? Gorillas can be cute, but you don’t want to mingle with them.

Due to the bad rap orks and trolls get, elves and dwarves are often overlooked and more easily infiltrate and blend into human society. A little known fact is that elves make up a large majority of Seattle’s prostitutes, and despite their good looks, often end up in large violent biker gangs such as the Ancients. But the real danger is elves infiltrating showbiz, and even worse, politics. With their natural charisma, pheromones and good looks they can easily persuade you to do anything, even without the use of mind-bending magic (which they often possess). While they breed slower, they also outlive everyone else, meaning a same elf can head a corporation or even a nation state for hundreds of years of more, with no one taking over. Entire nations such as the old Ireland and the area around Portland has been hijacked by elves, who in turn has introduced undemocratic rules of Kings and Queens, inequality of nobles and serfs. And guess who becomes the footstool of the new master race? Yep, that would be us, humanity. Allying with powerful Great Dragons and using dark magic in addition to modern weapons they are a looming threat to UCAS and other states in this great country.

Dwarves are of course easy to overlook, partially due to their minute size. Do not confuse these with small-statured humans, these are a breed apart. They tend to dwell in dark, deep places underground, are single-minded about technology, and do not work well together with humans. Many uses illegal drones, weapons systems or cyberdecks to commit crimes, or to support such illicit behavior. Human repairmen, mechanics and other industry workers often lose their jobs to dwarves, as they seemingly can work for an inhuman amount of hours, doing jobs a robot can’t.

Human rights for workers have been fought for by unions for over a hundred years, and now dwarven scabs can work cheaper, longer and just as effectively, something the megacorps know and love. Humanis strives to enforce the rights of human workers, and to avoid workplace discrimination by allowing shorter hours at the same pay as dwarves, and protection from being fired to give your job to a dwarf. We denounce workplaces with deliberately cramped workspaces that only fit dwarves or small children. Human ingenuity and craftsmanship has made our world today, and our ability to adapt and think outside the box should be rewarded.

What can I do?

Helping is easy. You can become a member through these easy steps, our yearly fee is affordable to all, and you can try out for up to three months for free! Even if you don’t want to become a member, Humanis Policlub can use your help. We have set up an easy to use donation system that can be public or anonymous, or if you want to help in other ways you can call your Humanis call centre on 555-HUMANIS and we will gladly take any help you can give. The POWER is yours!

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Scuttlebutt Says...
Monday, 9/2/80

It looks like some things are coming out from the shadows and into the light in the UCAS.

The recent shakeup with Ares in Detroit, and the rumors of bug spirits there are hot. But mobilization of Ares troops in the area is hotter – where are they going???

Rumors are also buzzing about a shocking move by the UCAS. We hear a bill designed to declare the Business Recognition Accords null and void within all UCAS territories and protectorates might be in the works. Can’t name the source, of course, but I can tell you that it’s usually accurate.

Seattle is free now, so it’s not going to be a big deal here but who knows how that might play out worldwide?

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Escalating Violence In Detroit...
This Just In: 8/12/80

Details are spotty at this point, but we understand that Detroit has gone dark. All Matrix access is restricted, and communication in and out of the city have been interrupted. Something is going on, we just aren’t sure what yet.

Two days ago, there was some talk about Ares patrolling the streets of Detroit, with full Firewatch support initiated. Our sources say that on 8/10/80, at 0343 Eastern time, UCAS Army III Corps from bases along the East Coast were issued deployment orders and were headed for Detroit.

These same sources say that in less than twenty hours, the same UCAS Army III Corps had been mustered twenty klicks outside of the Pennsylvania border were to converge on Detroit, but all communication from these forces were mysteriously lost. DeeCee will neither confirm or deny our source’s information.

Our source tells us that the entire Corps has… disappeared without a trace.

What this means for Detroit, and what exactly is going on there right now, remains uncertain.

In four hours, our Man on the Ground, Jim Tipton, will report live from Detroit.

I, like our viewers, am hanging on his report on these developments.

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Blown
Monday, July 12th 2080

She slid across the plasticrete towards her car. It was a nice little classic, a Saab Dynamit from the 60s. She’d spent a good bit of money to fix it up, and the guy she was about to call had helped to contribute to those funds. Hell, it was practically brand new, now.

She flicked up her commlink haptically with a twitch of her eyelid through her cyberyes, and it dialed the commcode she needed.

It went straight to leaving a message. Damn, he must be busy.

“Gex, this is Anya. I’ve got a job that needs doing and I thought of you as soon as it dropped on my lap,” she said as she reached for the Dynamit’s door.

The Dynamit exploded violently as the door opened, sending shards of composite fiber skittering across the plasticrete as the fireball rose into the sky. What was left of Anya’s body hit the ground twenty meters away, still smoking.

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Hot Off The Press
8/10/80

> Jess Sez: Skraa one and all to my sexy little pirate trid show. Today I’m here to talk about what’s on everyone’s mind.

It’s full of vitriol, violence, and venom. It’s hitting us all heavy like a shpita that refuses to let you slap back. It released today, independent of any label and despite many attempts to delay it.

I’m, of course, talking about the debut album dropping from Seattle’s own HezNation.

For those of you who don’t make it out much, or don’t keep your finger on the pulse of Seattle’s music scene, this band hit novahot status with their performance at Underground 93 two months ago. Underground 93 had to smuggle the band onto its soundstage to allow them to perform, and didn’t announce their center stage presence until the minute of their arrival. A staggering number of agents have been turned down to incorporate HezNation since that night, but if they’d open up their drek-clogged earholes you’d hear why. And ever since then, the Matrix has been abuzz with rumors of an official release of their music.

Kukra’theron or B@kun N’ Sl@v3z, Soul-Dead Side Up – How the Underground Was Lost isn’t a polished release. These numbers haven’t been processed and produced and auto-tuned up to shine like the numbers of a novahot band making the rounds should be. Or at least that’s what the Corpos want you to think.

Instead, it’s a bleeding edge analog raw live sound, taking the agonizing frustrations of being an Ork in 2080 out on your eardrums. Listen at your peril.

HezNation’s sound isn’t easy to pin down. Neither are it’s eight members. They are all SINless trogs from the streets of Carbonado, The Underground, and Redmond. They all are known for ‘hooding actions taken to prevent Ork and Troll abuses by Knight Errant and corporate interests. They all have street names, and wear masks.

Although many classify HezNation as Troll Thrash, their music also contains blended elements of jazz, rap, funk, and soul of the latter century.

Twin drummers Trash and Hurl form a solid, vicious, booming foundation for the band’s sound. Joined with bassist Throb and percussionist/keyboardist/programmer Kick, HezNation’s rhythm section takes up half the band.

Multi-instrumentalists Throbb and Kornhole alternate between forming a horn section, a synth section, and dual buzzsaw electric guitars.

And last, but certainly not least, are the band’s two front persons, Dredge and Slice. Both exhibit a native command of both Or’zet and English in the cutting narratives that their lyrics weave, a thought-provoking tableau of verbal cut and thrust laced with a sort of acerbic wit and mental agility that proves their skills came up from the bloodiest parts of the streets.

Six of the seven songs on HezNation’s debut are taken straight from the streets, apocalyptic visions of being Orks and Trolls, and SINless on the streets of Seattle.

The seventh and final song is an odd little number, a song called “Eunado” (which means “choice of the herd” in Or’zet, and refers to one that is highly, umm… desirable) that is a popular take on Drudge’s fascination with Rutra (the “Ork martial art”). It also seems to be a love-letter to the up-and-coming Friday Night Cyberfighters! sensation known as Brickhouse, whom Drudge alleges is a masterful student of Rutra in the song.

Kukra’theron or B@kun N’ Sl@v3z, Soul-Dead Side Up – How the Underground Was Lost By HezNation is available as we speak at several hot data havens on the Matrix, and “tribute” (donations) to the band is noted as “appreciated, but not demanded… for now.”

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Armed, Dangerous
Wednesday, June 12th 2080

KNIGHT ERRANT ALERT FILE

> Recipient Seattle Branch Office, Los Angeles Branch Office
> Sender Interpol, Hanover Office
> Subject Escaped Prisoner

We have reason to believe that a dangerous criminal, whose true identity is as of yet unknown, is making his way to Seattle or Los Angeles. This terrorist, known only by his assumed code name of Vinter, is vocally supported by a number of organizations on the Matrix.

Vinter has escaped imprisonment three times so far since he has become known to the counter-terrorism organizations of Europe. He should be considered armed and dangerous even if carrying no visible weapons.

The best image we can provide to identify Vinter is attached, although he is known to be skilled at disguising himself and others.

Vinter.JPG

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The Fires of Remembrance
Tuesday, May 28th 2080

The girl’s bloodshot eyes stared emptily into the distance. She coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth from cut and bruised lips. Her hands tugged weakly at the tattered remnants of the shirt that no longer covered her chest. Her breath came in short, quick gasps, because breathing too deeply sent sharp, stabbing pains through her chest.

She could still hear the voices of the four men who had broken her.

”This place is a fucking shithole,” one of the men spat.

She wanted to speak, could barely move or organize her thoughts.

Yeah, that’s all you’ve left us, celénit.

”Torch this fucker. She can’t tell us where Heller is. None of these squattin’ dandelion-eaters can.”

She tried to reach her ‘link wirelessly, to warn him despite the brutality these men had inflicted on her. Her trodes’ connections were cut.

Something fell across her face. She reached up weakly to brush it away, smelled the smoke rising.

It was a white hood.

As the flames began to rise around Aiofe, she heard the men walking out of the ruined tenement.

“Hey, I gotta lock on this Ashley bitch. Let’s head on over to Tacoma.”

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The Happy Hunting Grounds
Tuesday, May 28th 2080

“He’s not here,” said one of the men moving about the darkened apartment.

”We got anything here that might tell us where he went?” The other said, pushing over the mattress he’d been searching under in the bedroom.

Saul Redthorne cocked his shotgun as he listened to the two men’s conversation.

”What the fuck’s going on in here?” he shouted, stepping into the doorway.

The gunshot hit him like a hammer in the shoulder, whipping him to one side. Saul’s finger tightened on the trigger, and his shotgun loudly chewed a hole through the apartment wall.

Saul grunted, slumped down the wall. His synapses weren’t firing right. He couldn’t see straight. He felt his bladder let go. A heavy-booted foot struck him in the side of the head.

“This isn’t the guy. I think it’s the super,” growled whoever had kicked him.

“Where the fuck is Mayfield, asshole?” The other voice shouted at Saul.

“Wha da fuhhh,” Saul drawled weakly from his broken jaw, “is six am, prally out bangin’ his elth girl, sit ah dunno.”

“Well, you’re worth fuck-all then, aren’t you?” the second man snarled.

“Save the SnS for Mayfield, Kirilskiy wants his ass alive. This guy ain’t shit.”

Saul Redthorne felt the shotgun being ripped free from his grasp. Then he heard a deafening roar, and a truck smashed into his chest.

Everything went gray… then black.

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Bright Lights, Big Ranch
Tuesday, March 28th 2080

Another day on the ranch. Six a.m., and already it was going to be a rough day. Akecheta Owens sighed as the Carnation truck wheeled into the motor pool garage. It’s knocking engine was painfully audible.

“Where the hell is Wakiya?” He shouted to the crew.

Probably went out drinking with her buddies last night at Last Chance again, he thought to himself.

“Rudy, go out to her trailer and wake her ass up. I want her on this truck pronto!” he called out to one of the guys.

Rudy, a big white guy from out Kansas City way, nodded his response and spat out his toothpick, rising to his feet.

“Oh, Rudy, let her know I need her to work on Sunday this week, too. Don’t have time for a day off, big shipment’s coming up.”

Rudy grunted, knowing that he’d be working too then. Owens was always paranoid about everything being just right before a big shipment went out. At least until the trucks came back, anyway.

Wakiya’s trailer was one of several that Carnation Ranch rented out to their motor pool techs. The park formed a small community along the south side of the ranch. They weren’t much, but they offered a roof over the head of a lot of workers at the ranch who might have been transients otherwise. Carnation hired a lot of SINless during the season, and the park filled up quick.

Rudy hopped into the little Jackrabbit that the motor pool crew used to range around Carnation Ranch. He started it up, the transmission jerking into life as he shifted it into drive. He zipped the Jackrabbit around the motor pool shacks and out into the fields, dodging dairy cows and milk trucks on the way to the trailer park.

Hopping the Jackrabbit through the park wildly, Rudy stopped in front of Jones’ trailer. He pulled his large frame through the small door of the Jackrabbit, stretched, and took a swig from his hip flask as a morning constitutional. Sometimes, Jones wasn’t too happy and threw things when she was awakened earlier than she liked.

Grinning, Rudy walked up to the door and touched the handle, testing it. As usual, it wasn’t locked.

“Wakiya, open up! It’s Rudy! Time to head in for work, so-“

Rudy twisted the door handle and pulled the trailer door open. He never finished his sentence, though.

A spark ignited the gas that had built up inside the trailer. Flames erupted violently, ripped the trailer apart and flung the burning debris of its contents against the surrounding trailers.

When the emergency responders finally put out the fire that had consumed several of the other trailers and their occupants, they found Rudy’s body twenty meters away, the handle to Wakiya Jones’ front door melted around the charred remains of his right hand.

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