Shadowrun Character Sketches

Shadowrun Character Sketches
Or Where You Can Steal My Ideas For Your Next (N)PC

"I'm just a girl..."
Diz: As in short for "Dizzy." She's a human female rigger. About 5'3" with blonde hair pulled back in a bouncing pony-tail, she prefers to wear hip hugging bell bottom jeans and has a "Pussy Cat head" (like those stickers you've seen on cars) tattooed just above her left breast, just as pink and sparkly as the stickers. Diz is a bit ditzy, especially around guys. Don't start thinking she's "just a girl" though because she'll kick your ass. That's why she hates the Yaks and the Mob, they can't seem to get past the cute female exterior and sees she's a kick-ass rigger. She absolutely loves the feeling she gets from utter, rigged control over a 300+ horsepower sports car or cutting loose with a HMG on a drone; it's nearly better than good sex (and definitely better than bad sex). She's just as apt to flirt with a guy as to get in his face and threaten to kick his ass. Her Eurocar Westwind has two bumper stickers: "Chix Rock" and "Fly Girlz Rule."

"It's not easy, being green..."
Grumble: It's not easy being green. And it's not easy being a massive troll either, especially one that can smash steel doors open. Grumble grew up in a relatively normal home, in Renton, and his parents are still alive and together. When his physical adept abilities began to display at 12, he was shipped off to a Mitsuhama school, for free. What Mitsuhama didn't tell the parents was that all they wanted the young troll for was to train him for security. He never did get the education he wanted and was promised. After a nasty break-in that left half the staff dead and Grumble almost dead himself, he was fired by Mitsuhama, leaving him nearly broke, homeless and without much opportunity. So into the shadows he went. It's something of a cliché, but Grumble really is a gentle giant. Most of his free nuyen and time goes into self-education and night classes at the Renton West Junior College. When he sleeps, what does he do? That's right, he snores, a grumbling sound known to shake plate glass windows.

"Guns guns guns!!! My life would be so dull without them!"
Mac: Mac loves guns. Most folks, especially those Humanis drekheads, seem to think it's unnatural for a dwarf women to love guns so much. But Mac doesn't really care. As long as she's got her guns, she doesn't need much more, certainly not men. Mac is a repressed lesbian (i.e., she doesn't really know it), but she hasn't had physical relations with anyone for over five years ago, about the same time she discovered Really Big Fraggin' Guns. Much of Mac's problems can be traced back to abuse as a child, sexually by her oldest brother and physically by the local Humanis chapter. Mac's a violent sort, always attempting to solve her problems with guns and often regretting her stupidity later. She's also very direct and to the point and she won't take crap from anyone.

"Going back to Cali...nah, I don't think so."
Tall Paul: Speed is king, and Tall Paul is the prince of speed. A black elf originally from the "El Infierno" section of Los Angeles, CalFree, he tried life in Tir Tairngire. For reasons always left unsaid, he left and refuses to return. So what happened? Tall Paul is as queer as a three dollar bill (though out of the closet, he isn't a "fairy" or a "queen;" he talks about his boyfriend as if it were nothing, but doesn't prance about or wear pink or anything similarly stereotypical) and got caught up in an affair with one of the Prince's assistants. Things got a bit nasty once the Prince found out, and Tall Paul was asked not so politely to leave. While not the strongest of elves, with his cyber he's almost always the fastest around, which gives him a chance to eliminate his opponent before they get a chance to react. He is almost always a consummate professional and has an excellent reputation with most fixers as a runner that can not only do the job right, but maintain a business-like attitude about the entire affair.

"I'm the king of the world!"
Rex: This ork Coyote shaman is the self-styled King of the Streets. Or at least the couple of blocks around his apartment in Redmond. Rex grew up on the streets of Redmond, with all that that experience implies. His magical talent gave him a big leg up on the rest of his friends and family though. First he worked for the Tuskers, a small "trog" gang. Did okay, but there wasn't a lot of money to be made being the resident gang spell-chucker. So he moved on to the Big Leagues, the Big Money of shadowrunning. Rex is a greedy son of a slitch, and much of his nuyen goes into creature comforts. He always has to have the best of everything, and if possible, it should obviously have cost lots of nuyen (which to him right now means lots of chrome). As a Coyote shaman, he's not terribly predictable and he has a tendency to go a bit overboard with everything, from drinking to relationships to spending nuyen. In other words, a classic obsessive-compulsive.

"Why isn't there a Real Life 101 class offered?"
Plato: They don't exactly teach shadowrunning at the University of Washington. They don't exactly teach many real life applications for magic either. This left Plato very unprepared when he was forced to leave UW. His parents were both killed in a traffic accident his junior year. Ares, despite his magical talent, dropped his scholarship to UW (his parents worked for Ares and his grades were below average) and the inheritance wasn't enough to continue his schooling. He bounced from one drekky job to another until he finally was forced into the shadows in order to make a living. He hasn't been shadowrunning long, so he's a bit naive about how the shadows work and has been taken advantage of several times by fixers and Mr. Johnsons, not to mention a few "team" members. He is talented though and since fully-talented magicians are pretty rare in the shadows, he's generally in demand.

"I'm just sitting on the dock of the bay, watching time slip away...
Fisher: Ever seen an old elf? Sort of a strange image, but that's Fisher. This conjuring adept has spent his entire lifetime down at the Seattle wharf, spending much of his time fishing (illegally of course) for his food and sleeping in a different empty cargo box every night. He's not even sure how old he is, or when his birthday is. And with the rough life he's had, he could be only 30 but he looks more like 60. Living on the docks means that he's quite unaware of the world around him ("Dunkelzahn's dead? Who's Dunkelzahn?") and he doesn't seem to have any significant interest in the rest of the world. He has his elementals (he prefers water elementals, natch) and he has some dockyard workers that talk to him, and that's about all he needs. He started shadowrunning as a way to help the other, less fortunate people that share the wharf with him. He doesn't really feel a strong need for nuyen (though he can't resist a quadruple decker Mega Super Stuffit burger every now and again) and is quite happy being "homeless." He does know, however, that not everyone is like him, so about 75% of his nuyen goes right to buying food, clothing, and even paying rent for those homeless individuals (especially families) he's encountered.

"Look, I can add the pop-up HMG. But I'm not going to add THAT pop-up thing to anyone's seat!"
Thumper: The original big bad black man you don't want to meet in a dark alley. Or at least that's the way Thumper looks. He's actually a pretty quiet and mild man, much happier rebuilding an engine than beating somebody up. As a rigger, he's okay; there are better and there are worse. He's got a definite preference for Big Vehicles like vans and big-rigs. But he's one of the top mechanics in all of Seattle. Need your car turbocharged? Need a HMG mounted in a pop-up turret? Thumper's your man. Consequently, all of his personal vehicles are nearly totally altered, filled to the brim with toys and enhancements. He's also a hopeless romantic, always pining away for some beautiful woman he'll never have. Maybe it's because he understand cars more than women. Maybe it's because he's so painfully shy he'll never have the guts to go and talk to a beautiful woman.

"Raining down destruction from afar. Kinda like a god, you know?"
Trebuchet: Are all dwarfs gruff and to the point? Trebuchet seems to fit that stereotype. New to Seattle, "Trey" as he is sometimes called, is a former artillery sergeant for the CAS Army. He's one of the few shadowrunners known to own and be able to competently operate a mortar, one of the few pieces of artillery that has filtered down to the shadows. So most of his jobs are support, laying down smoke or sometimes explosive mortars so the main shadowrun team can escape with the goods. That's fine with Trebuchet most of the time. People tend to get too emotional and touchy and friendly - ick! Yes, he has issues with intimacy. While he is specialized in artillery, he isn't unskilled in other areas of combat, as long as it isn't melee combat. He grew up in Atlanta, so he does have that southern accent...

"And he's as cold as ice..."
Judge: Jury and executioner. Judge is awful close to that trid stereotype of the ruthless, eyes-of-steel and a heart of ice street samurai. It's not because he's a consummate professional though, because he isn't always. It's because he genuinely hates metahumans. A card carrying Humanis Policlub member, Judge is filled with rage at nearly everyone. The metas for being abominations of god's own image, most humans for accepting these beasts and magicians for being witches and warlocks and servants of the devil. He even hates himself. Why? His sister is an ork and he doesn't have the courage to kill her, like he should. That's not all. There's a waitress at the Smash & Grab, a bar down in Ft. Lewis, that he's in love with. Problem is that she's an elf. He tries to tell himself he's a good Humanis solider, fighting against Satan, but late at night or when he's drunk he's filled with self-doubt and even contemplates suicide for his "failures."

"You wanted the best, so you got the best. The hardest man in the world..."
Marlowe: The Mafia trains their combat magicians well. Marlowe is an efficient killing machine, known to have carried out the personal orders of even the big Chicago bosses (back before the Containment Zone that is). In many way, he's your classic combat mage. Little interest in theory, only concerned with "zapping" an enemy. He's totally self-centered and demands that he be treated the utmost respect. And he expects nothing but the best; his suits are custom tailored and his apartment is in the best part of Bellevue. His guns and armor are the best that can fall off the back of a truck. He knows it, and the Mafia knows it owns him. And this is where the problems start. It seems a few years back, before he became an elite magical hitter for the mob, he had a girlfriend, who later died. But she had a daughter, now 10. And guess who has to take care of little Clementine? She's denied absolutely nothing and is possibly the most spoiled child in all of Seattle. Marlowe desperately want to quit the business, desperately wants to make sure that he gets to see Clementine graduate, get married, have kids of her own. And he knows that the business of shadowrunning makes that a low percentage possibility. But he needs the money to support both him and her, and the Mafia owns him, a fact they never cease to remind him of.

"No, you never really can go home. But you can bring a piece of it with you."
Marsh: Almost a stereotypical "back-to-nature" shaman. Almost. While Marsh is an Amerind (Sioux), he's not been back to his birthplace for years now. Seems that he's on the run from the Sioux government; his father was murdered a few years back and he was charged with the crime. Nearly all the evidence pointed to his guilt, but due to a technicality and some mis-handled evidence, he was let go. Several individuals within the Sioux government made it very clear to Marsh that he had better leave and never return. So much to his shame, he is a nature shaman trapped in an urban environment. Much of his time is spent in Snohomish, where there is less urban development than much of the rest of Seattle, wandering the many parks and remaining forest land. It pains him terribly that he has been exiled, so he has embraced his former culture in an almost obsessive manner. He wears buck skins and leathers, curses in Sioux, refers to most people as pinkskins and has the same proud, even arrogant attitude of young Sioux men. He holds his honor very dear to him, so don't dare to insult him.

Viva la Revolucion!! Viva la Mexico!!!"
Paco: This Hispanic ork is a veteran of the Aztlan civil war. An experienced mercenary, he has fought for free in the Yucatan for most of the last decade, assisting the rebels in any way he thought he could. For a few months out of the year though, he returns to Seattle, his home, and does shadowruns strictly for the nuyen. When he's got enough money, he heads back south with fresh supplies and new guns, ready to fight for freedom once again. He is Hispanic or Mexican; don't ever call him an Aztlaner if you want to keep all your teeth in your mouth. Much of the nuyen he makes actually goes to his relatives, menial workers trapped in the bowels of Mexico City. The rest to the Revolution. Paco doesn't have any illusions of being Ché, or Castro though. He's not terribly charismatic and he's an effective but unimaginative tactician. He knows he's a soldier, not a leader.

"C.R.E.A.M.: Cash Rules Everything Around Me"
Hardcase: A human mercenary that has actually worked with Paco a few times. He's also worked with the Azzies, with various African tribal war lords and various other employers over the course of his career. So why does he do it? He doesn't know. He likes the money, but it's a difficult way to make a living. There's excitement, a bit of glory, but he's not really into that sort of thing, at least not enough to make it worth it. And it's not that he particularly enjoys killing people for a living. It's just he doesn't know anything else he can do. His parent's were both UCAS Army so his entire life has been the military, has been moving from one place to another every six months. He went to Army schools and entered the Army at 18, having been in Junior ROTC since he was 13. After being left for dead in the deepest and darkest of Africa, he took advantage of his new Killed In Action status and became a mercenary, which has been his life for the last five years. He's trying shadowrunning now because he thought he might want to settle down in one area for a while, but after eight months he's getting a bit stir-crazy and may just go back to the mercenary life.

"Tell me again about the rabbits George!"
Reggie: Well, trolls are supposed to be bit dim, right? Reggie isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but it's not very smart to insult a troll, especially a troll that can throw fireballs. Reggie grew up on the streets and had a pretty rough childhood. At the age of 9, he was shot in the head when he got caught in the crossfire of a gang war. By some miracle, he didn't die. The gunshot did end up removing his left horn and a fair amount of brain tissue though. It was this traumatic event that also awoke his magical talent, and his doctors believe that he survived because he somehow cast a healing spell upon himself. Reggie sees shadowrunning as just a fun job, one where he gets to meet all sorts of interesting people and go to interesting places and play with interesting toys. No, he doesn't like the getting shot at thing (he sometimes suffers from flashbacks) but it's fun most of the time and during the day he usually get to stay home and watch the 24-hr Neil the Ork Barbarian channel (he knows ALL the episodes by heart...).

"I am woman, hear my Ares HVAR roar!"
Onyx: As black as the night is long, this elven bodyguard is the very definition of strong black woman. Attractive, muscles like iron cords and a too cool for you attitude make her quite popular with the local simstars and trid stars for bodyguard protection. Which means she doesn't come cheap either. Onyx is something of an adrenaline junky and sometimes pulls calculated risks just to try and get that adrenaline rush. She's also something of a diva, basking in all the attention her beauty and her skills give her. In fact, she can't but help to be noticed and it drives her up the wall when someone, especially a man, doesn't pay attention to her. And that's her weakness; she is so starved for attention and genuine affection, she's left behind a pile of broken relationships behind her and has the emotional scars to prove it. She's in the business for the attention.

"No, that red leather just isn't your color. Try this Navajo white suede. Oh, you simply must buy it!"
Foxfire: As feminine a street samurai as you are likely to ever meet. She spent most of her youth, what she can remember anyway, as a student at the Elizabeth Warden School For Girls. Not just a private school, this was a Fuchi-run school designed to crank out talent for their use. Some of it various sorts of shadow talent. Foxfire was one of those girls. When Fuchi disintegrated, the Elizabeth Warden School for girls suddenly was without a patron, someone to pay the bills. While most of the 50 or so girls were recovered by Novatech, Shiawase or Renraku and placed in other training programs, a few such as Foxfire at age 18 slipped onto the streets. Foxfire is a fairly naive shopaholic, but her Wired Reflexes and Improved Hand Razors in both hands kept her alive long enough for her to meet the love of her life, Flashdancer. A year later, the two are married, but since the UCAS doesn't recognize lesbian marriages, let alone between two SINless people, it only has meaning to them. Which is quite enough for Foxfire.

"Yeah, I've done some simporn. Done some street work. But I work the shadows now, so don't think your nuyen will be buying you a blowjob."
Chastity: As her street (and porn) name might imply, this 26 year old looks and sounds (only partially enhanced by modern medicine) like a virginal 16 year old girl. Which was part of the reason she was so popular in the simporn industry between 2058 and early 2060. But that same look kept her from achieving stardome. A few poorly chosen words at the wrong moment to a powerful simporn producer (something about she would rather frag a ghoul than him) suddenly found her without the income to support her rock-n-roll lifestyle. Some nose work and a new hair cut and color, and she found herself in the shadows with the help of a former bodyguard and current shadowrunner. She's not exactly combat-oriented, but what heterosexual man could possibly tell her no? Very few indeed, a talent (augmented with bioware) that has been of great use to her shadowrunning teams. Even a few women have fallen prey to her charms. Chastity is getting a bit tired of playing Mata Hari, but until that next big score and the combat cyber it can buy comes along, it's the role she has to play. For now.

"No, he didn't kill himself. See the angle of the entry wound. And you can't see it, but the whole place stinks on the astral of murder. Just like the body found yesterday..."
Smiley: Smiley, quite simply, doesn't smile. An adept, his entire mind and soul is devoted to sniffing out clues. And all the horror that he's seen, well, it seems to have driven away any sense of humor he reportedly once had. A former FBI agent, he is still called in to consult by them and by Lone Star. Well trained in both mundane and astral forensics, very little gets by his well trained senses. He lives alone is a rather spartan apartment, sharing it only with a big lazy orange cat named Frank. Not that hardly anyone has seen the apartment; he has very few of what he would consider friends, though his name is on the rolodex of many a detective.

"Knowledge is power, nuyen makes the world go round. Guns make both possible."
Zebra: Another girl with guns. An Army brat, she simply grew up around weaponry. She never fell in love with any one style or type of weapon, she loved them all. She eventually followed her father (who is still a Major in the UCAS Army) and joined the Army herself. While she was allowed to play with all sorts of new toys, it just wasn't enough. So once her tour was up, off she went into the mercenary world for a few years, where she really began to hone her skills. Several years ago she went freelance and went into the shadows, where her in-depth knowledge of a diverse array of weaponry turned her into a very valuable commodity. In most ways, she's a fairly normal 2061 woman; her closet tends to be too small, her shoe tree always needs a few more branches and she would like to meet Mr. Right someday. Until she's ready to settle down though (and she just doesn't see that anytime soon) Zebra is quite content pulling the trigger on someone else's nuyen.

"Rosebud? Yeah, it's my chrome-plated Savalette. Got any more jokes drekhead?"
Citizen Kane: There's a pretty big demand for bodyguards and muscle down there in Hollywood. But of course, in fashion conscious Los Angeles, a bodyguard can't simply be good, he has to look good too. All of which fit Citizen Kane perfectly. At least until he pulled a "Costner-Houston" and fell for the sim star he was supposed to be protecting. No, that wasn't his major sin. Plenty of sim stars pick their bodyguards based on how they look in the expectation of a hot little affair with a commoner being paid to serve them. No, his sin was she was killed because he was asleep in bed with her and not standing watch at her door. He managed to kill the attacker, but the damage was done. His agent dropped him and no one would hire him. So into the shadows he went. Seemingly a cold hard bastard, he has selected his skills, his cyberware, his weaponry all with careful thought for maximum effectiveness. But beneath it all, he aches for a chance at redemption, a chance to return to the life and city he grew up in and loved. He doesn't know if it'll ever happen, but he has recently begun making contacts in Los Angeles again...