Scene 1

===SCENE 1====

Rainy City Nights Dance Club.

"Amazon"

That's what the rainworn sign over the building's entrance still reads. It's a memory of another era, the corroded remnants of a giant swallowed whole by progress and time. Where once servers hummed with the energy of commerce, now speakers thrumm with the power of music. A troll on drums pounds out the beat in zebra-print trousers and a torn t-shirt, while a pair of guitarist duel for the title of 'loudest' sound approaching music.

At the head of the band, an elven woman wearing the absolute minimum of black leather screams in a very un-elfish fashion. Her bottle-blond hair is best described as *huge*

They make up in loudness and intensity what they lack in skill or originality. It's enough to keep the crowd on the hot side of boiling, pounding music and pulsing lights keeping them enraptured.

It's retrothrash night at Rainy City Nights. And that's where you are - on the mezzanine overlooking the dance-floor enjoying a not so quiet drink while you wait. You have to shout to be heard over the music, wondering just why in the hell your fixer has called you. But you know better than to keep Markas waiting. You're welcome enough that the bouncers allowed you to keep your sidearms (provided they're hidden), but not important enough to be led straight through.

Still, you wonder just why you were called....  What's been happening lately?

--- Let's see who our PC's are.

After a few minutes, when there's a break in the music, the traditional heavy in black towers over the PC's table. He seems to be human. (It's fairly easy to tell that he's rocking some serious augmentation under that jacket. Even if he doesn't flaunt it, it's not something especially hidden earlier. Enough to discourage dickheads, without encouraging them.)

"Mister Visignonas will see you now."

Players are lead through to a back door marked private. It opens outward, revealing a dimly lit corridor, a sharp right, a short left, then another armoured doorway. The music of the club has dropped to a low thrumm that rumbles up through the floor, like a passing train.

Markas is a businessman, nearing his fifties and trying hard to to look it. He always wears a crisp suit. His office is classy and comfortable-appointed, and far more 'corporate' than one would suspect. All of it centres on the man behind the desk In his industry, first impressions matter and the impression of money and power helps to control not only wayward acts, but the Shadowrunners he meets.

An old-school cybernetic left hand points to a history, as does the tatoo barely visible under greying hair, and a faint scar lost in the wrinkles around his eye.

*****Background****

Rainy City Nights began as a front, to launder some of the money Markas made from his stable of runners. It's been steadily becoming something of a tail that wags the dog. Still, Markas has status n the Shadows that he doesn't have Club land.... yet.

Markas was a Shadowrunner himself back in 2050. He's been in the business almost as long as it's been a business. He doesn't just know the rules.... he wrote most of them. After fifteen years running, Markas retired comfortably to the position of a fixer after age started to catch up. Money's not really an object to him, especially since Rainy City Nights is becoming a . Still, it's hard to break the habit - especially when he's a big player in the Shadows, but small-fry in the club-scene.

Use the standard fixer template, with some bonuses. He's been there, seen it and done it all.

Big schtick: Running's a game for the young. Has a tendancy to refer to those in his 'stable' as 'kids'.

****

Eithere way he is a man who is not afraid to let it be known that he is the one in charge here.

"Alright kids.... You've done your milk runs. How'dyou feel like moving on up to the big leagues and getting paid real money?"

I'm assuming people will say yes....  if not, I'll make something up. Troll goes wild on the dancefloor after being bottled. Get out alive as all hell breaks loose.

"I've arranged a meeting tomorrow night with a little someone who needs a little something done. It sounded like something right up your alley. 21:00 hours. $Location."

Details?

"Standard BNE. Customer doesn't expect heavy security. Why I'm giving it to you. Let's see if you're ready for bigger things."

Money? Negotiate Roll....  4, 6 Negotiation. It's gonna be tricky to get an extra 100ny  basice.

"9k a head. Should be enough to help with your gear situation" (Base 3k x 3, based on other team's decker Hacking rating)

Hesitation.

"You don't want the job. You tell 'em yourself. You make me look bad by pulling a no-show and you never get a job from me again, understand?"

Any more questions/Bargaining/
"Ask them in person why don't you? Don't you know how this works yet?"
"I don't have time to babysit, I have a club to run."

The bouncer looms....

The Players are free to enjoy the club for the rest of the night, or move along home, or follow their own agendas. Closing time is late, drinks are exactly as cheap as expected, and starting trouble is a Bad Idea.

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