Hound

Howe? Oh Hound. Yeah, I know the slot. He's one of those Adept fellas. Comes from the Salish and talks the Tribal talk real good, but don't walk it quite so well. Well, ya know, he's been urbanized. Sure he knows his people and all that drek, and he's damn good at tracking someone, but he still lives in the sprawl, eats soy, and chokes on Seattle air like the rest of us slots. And don't wait for him to use some tomahawk on you, unless you're talking about the gun; I hear he has one of those Gruff pistols, a fraggin' hand cannon that'll stop a Troll, especially if he is using it. All of those movies where they talk about shooting the asses off fleas and drek like that? He can pretty much do that with a pistol, and he's pretty damn fast too. Think long and hard when he yells "Freeze," omae.

Physical Description

Current Stats

Character Progression

• Karma award for Run 0 & Run 1 (3 sessions)
  • Base karma: 11
  • Storytelling: +1+1+2
  • Total: 15
• Raise Charisma from 3 to 4, net -6 karma [9/15]
• Upped karma by +1 per previous session, +3 karma [12/18]
• Raised Bike to 2, -3 karma [9/18]
• Run 2 (1 session), +5+1 karma [15/24]
• Joined Snohomish Hunting Club, -3 karma [12/24]
• Achieved grade 1, -9 karma [3/24] (1 level of Pain Resistance, 2 levels of Stealth)
• Intermediate Run 4 karma +10 [13/34]
• Final Run 4 karma adjustment +6 [19/40]
• Specialization Diablo, Bike (Diablo) 2(3) [17.5/40]
• Karma award for interim 4 +3 karma [20.5/43]
• Riases Unarmed Combat to 4, -7.5 karma [13/43]
• Raised Grade to Level 2, -14 karma [-1/43]
• Run 5 karma, +4 karma, [3/47]
• Run 6 karma, +2 karma, [5,49]
• Warstory for Run 6 +1 karma [6/50]
• Run 7 +4 karma [10/54]
• Fifth World Magic -6 karma [4/54]
• Run 08: +4 karma, [8/58]
• Run 09: + 4 karma +1 warstory [13/63]
• Run 10: +4 karma + 2 for war story [19/69]
• Run 11: +5 karma + 2 for war story [26/76]
• Initiated two grades for Enhanced Reflexes 3, -25.5 karma [0.5/76]. Metamagic skills - Centering (Ranged Combat) and Centering (Perception).

Lifestyle

Low lifestyle, paid to AUG2058
Middle lifestyle, paid to JUL2058

Weapons and Equipment ( ____ k¥ left)

Weapons AZ-150 Stun Baton Billy Goat Gruff (Custom Pistol) Defiance SuperShock - SLII Extendable Baton Silencers (2) Tomahawk (Custom Pistol)	Explosives
Clothing & Armor Secure Jacket (5/3)	Electronics Nav-Dat GPS Pocket Secretary
Tools	Surveillance and Security Microtransceiver (Flux 4, Encryption 4)
Surveillance Measures & Countermeasures	Security Devices
Survival Gear Survival Kit	Skillsofts and Chips
Cyberwear/Bioware Datajack (Alpha) Image Link (Alpha) Knowsoft Link (Alpha) Personalized Safety Smartlink II (Alpha)	Biotech/Medical Doc Wagon - Basic Medkit Slap Patch - Antidote (8) x4 Slap Patch - Tranq (10) x 2 Trauma Patch x2
Magical Equipment	Vehicles

Contacts

Buddy: Grandfather - Henry "Little Cub" Whitefeather Little Cub is in his early 70's, but is still a huge man in good health. He lives in Salish lands, and is a practicing Bear Shaman. His attitude toward Daniel (Hound's real name) has been improving over the last few years following a falling out the two of them had over Daniel going off to Seattle to "sell his soul to the White Man's Corporation". This is due largely to Daniel's change in his attitude toward Little Cub. As Daniel grew older and wiser, he came to appreciate Little Cub's own wisdom and teachings, and started coming to Little Cub to visit and learn. In turn Little Cub has come to accept Daniel's choice not to follow Bear, but to instead follow the Way of the Adept, and the path upon which it has taken him. Over the years Little Cub has taught Daniel a great deal, including the culture and history of Native Americans, as well as practical knowledge of magic and nature. Little Cub was the first to recognize Daniel's potential as a magician, and helped Daniel to unlock the powers within him. It was Little Cub who taught Daniel the way of spirits, and in doing so unlocked Daniel's special power to channel his inner strength into a blow mighty enough to combat spirits and creatures of magic (Killing Hands). Little Cub also crafted the medicine bag that Hound carries to offset the magic loss from his cyberware.

Buddy: Armorer - Jack "Calibre" Callabra Jack has the distinction of being the only "target" Hound has ever let go. Hound was hired by a corporate Mr. Johnson to track down a renegade employee, a Dwarf who had stolen plans for new weapon prototypes. When Hound caught up to Jack, Jack pled his case that he was innocent, and for some reason Hound believed him enough to get the whole story. It turned out that Jack had not worked for the Corp in question, but instead worked as a freelancer in weapons R&D, and had come up with some really good designs. A high-placed emplyee of the Corp had acquired the designs through espionage, and was trying to get rid of Jack so he could take the credit and the profits for himself. Hound looked into the case and found out Jack was telling the truth. They tried to collect evidence and expose the Corp suit, but he was shielded by his high position, so all Hound could do was let him go. Hound returned the contract money, with a story about some other emergency coming up, then laid low for a while and watched over his own shoulder. Not knowing where else to turn, Jack went to the Mob for help. Shortly afterwards, the Corp suit met with an unfortunate accident, and not long after that the local Mob goons started carrying new and improved custom weaponry. Although Jack is not strictly a member of the Mob, he now does much of his work for them, although he still finds time to fix Hound up with hardware and have the occasional drink together. The Mob is aware of Jack's friendship with Hound, but so far doesn't seem to care as long as it doesn't affect Family business.

Buddy: Fixer - Felicia "Vixen" T'Larra Fox is an attractive, well-connected, Elven woman whose past is somewhat of a mystery. She showed up on the Seattle street scene with a talent for knowing who to talk to and what to say, and quickly got into the business of putting the right people in touch with each other. Fox is a social chameleon, hob-nobbing with Corp suits in the afternoon and belting down drinks while watching Urban Brawl in the evening. She doesn't seem to need the money she makes as a fixer, so some speculate that she enjoys either the excitement or the feeling that she's "slumming", but she still doesn't give her services away for free. Some years ago Fox instigated a romantic relationship with Hound. He was very surprised, but didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, even though he always suspected that she was just interested in him as someone dangerous and different, sort of Tribal fever. She called it off amicably about 6 months after it started, but the two remained friends. Hound trusts her as a fixer, and still enjoys her company on an occasional friendly date, but has never been able to read her motivations well. GM Notes: Home neighborhood - Bellevue Working neighborhoods - Downtown, Bellevue, Redmond (Touristville only), Puyallup (Puyallup city only)

Buddy: Decker - Jumpin' Jack Flash One look at him tells you why he has a moniker of a song sung by Mick Jagger. Except for the ports in his skull, he is the spitting image, tall, lean, emaciated, and some of the biggest fraggin' lips you've ever seen on a human. Hound stumbled across him on the Matrix and contracted out some research work to him. They established a stable, if mundane, work relationship. Jack has the gift of enjoying his work. He loves the Matrix and slipping past ICE. He also likes women, a lot. Jack ended up on the wrong end of a love triangle that involved a Yak soldier. He put out a call to everyone he had contact with. His meatbod was in jeopardy and he was definitely a lover. Exactly one fraggin' slot answered him, Hound. Hound had some dealings with the Yak and was able to intervene on Jack's behalf. In the end, the Yak was married, the woman turned out to be an Elven prostitute, and Hound knew just enough to turn the tables. The soldier backed off with the very real prospect that his relationship was likely to get him killed by his own organization if it came to light. Jack has not forgotten what Hound did. Hound was never in real danger and his "work" amounted to a conversation with Suzi Nagasaki and a well-worded phone call, but Jack saw it as more. Jack is now willing to do occasional small bits of work for free and he occasionally meets Hound for a drink. Not a bad arrangement for Hound, since Jack is something of a magnet for women.

Contact: Lone Star Cop - Brad Harris Brad is a desk Sgt. in Lone Star, and happy to be there. He is a slovenly, overweight human who avoids hard work as much as possible. His relationship with Hound is a professional one. Brad clues Hound into the best bounties and Hound cuts Brad in for a share any time the info turns out to help. Hound has been completely scrupulous about not cheating Brad, and so far the relationship has been mutually beneficial. Brad will also occasionally offer Hound other interesting info that he thinks would be worth something, although nothing that would get Brad into too much trouble.

Contact: Tribal/Eco-Terrorist - Sam "Screeching Owl" Longwalker Sam and Daniel grew up together in tribal lands. They were close friends as children, but started to grow apart in their late teens. While they both attended the same classes taught by Daniel's grandfather, they took away very different lessons. Where Daniel (eventually) learned a great respect for Amerind culture and history, Sam learned only hate for the White Man and the injustices visited upon Mother Earth and the Native Americans, her chosen people. Daniel would say that Sam grew a little twisted with the thoughts of hatred and revenge against the White Man and the Corporations that represent him. Sam would say that his eyes were opened to cruel reality. Either way, Screeching Owl was born, joining GreenWar and dedicating himself to reclaiming Mother Earth from the predations of the Corporations. Sam and Daniel still get word of one another through the Tribe and mutual friends there. Although they no longer consider each other close friends, they still remember their childhood friendship fondly, and each feels that the other followed their own calling as best as they could.

Contact: Bar Owner/Yak Middle-man - Suzi Nagasaki Suzi owns and operates a bar in Seattle called "Little Tokyo" that caters to people who appreciate their privacy. ShadowRunners and Corp businessmen alike gather in the darker corners to discuss current projects and future jobs. The place has a reputation for not allowing violence on the premises, such rule enforced by several quiet but deadly employees who owe their allegiance to the Yakuza, as does Suzi. For, in addition to being a bar, "Little Tokyo" is a Yak safe house and meeting place, although their meetings are not held in the public areas. Suzi is a Yak ex-assassin who specialized in poison, but now mainly runs the bar. Hound doesn't know this about her; he just knows she's in the Yak organization. Hound got on her good side one night when he broke up a hit going down in the bar. A patron was causing trouble as a distraction, and while the bouncer moved in to stop the fight brewing, the patron's accomplice planted some explosives in the bar and slipped out the back. Hound happened to be in the bar following someone else entirely, but noticed the bomb and pointed it out to Suzi. Since then, Hound has always been welcome. Of course, Suzi is grateful to Hound, but her first loyalty is always to the Yakuza.

Contact: Ork Biker - "Knuckles" Muldoon "Knuckles" is a member of a mostly Orkish biker gang, well versed in street survival. He and Hound met one night when Hound witnessed a group of Humanis Policlub thugs jump Knuckles in an alley and proceed to pound him. Hound has a soft spot for the oppressed underdogs of the world, seeing in them something of his own people, so he decided to even the odds a bit. Hound leapt into the fight and together he and Knuckles thrashed the Policlubbers soundly. At first Knuckles was skeptical of Hound's motives, but after a few drinks and some commiserating over the lousy treatment of the oppressed, Knuckles came to trust Hound a little more. They haven't spent enough time together to turn their relationship into a real friendship, so they don't know if the potential is there or not, but they do know how to reach one another if necessary.

Starting Stats

Background

You want my story? What for, you writing a trid drama? A thesis? OK, chummer, it don't matter to me. The name's Hound. Pull up a chair and buy me a drink, and I'll tell you a little about me. No, not that chair. I gotta keep an eye on someone at the bar. Yeah, that's good. So, my story...

I was raised in the Salish by my grandfather, surrounded and sheltered by tribals for most of my young life. As far as I know I am an only child and I don't remember my parents. When I was very young my grandfather told me they were killed in an accident, but when I got older and pressed the issue, he admitted that wasn't quite true, but steadfastly refused to tell me the real story. I did some poking around on my own and I'm pretty sure they were runners themselves, but at some point their trails just disappear. I figure for their sakes and mine I should let it go.

Anyway, granddad's a shaman; a Bear Shaman to be exact. Normally a sweetheart of a guy, but don't piss him off. Well, from the start he saw the magic in me, saw my potential. He figured to steer me toward being a shaman too, but that's not the way it worked out. Oh sure, I learned a lot from him, and none of that is wasted knowledge, but from the minute I picked up a gun for the first time I knew my path was not the Shaman's way. It just felt so right in my hands, you know. Not that I'm obsessed with violence. I'd rather have a drink with a man than shoot him. But for me, a pistol's just a natural extension of my arm and my will. So it was natural to turn my magical energies inward, to follow a path of self-enlightenment independent of totems or elementals or any outside force. When I feel the grip in my hand, sight down the barrel... Yeah, I know, I sound crazed. That's OK. Most folks don't understand.

Of course, all that's great, but it don't pay the bills, neh? So I thought about how I could best make use of my talents. Truth be told, I'd probably make a damn good assassin, but that line of work don't sit well with me. I like to sleep easy at night. But I did have a talent for tracking folks down, and even then I could hold my own in a fight. Thought about going military, or maybe even Lone Star, but it sounded too structured. Don't get me wrong, I'm no wild go-ganger; I know the value of a good plan and a calm heart. I just enjoy my freedom, that's all. I guess it's in my blood.

Anyway, I was young and invulnerable, more brawn than brains, and ready to make my mark in the world. I'd had enough of my grandfather's ramblings, sure that I knew better than some old man, even if he could call up spirits. So I set out for the Big City, with no plan and a chip on my shoulder the size of an arcology. Heh. That lasted about a month, just long enough for me to discover that I was NOT the baddest mother on the block. Not even close. Think you're tough? Well, you might be pretty flash, but I guarantee you there's a chromed troll out there who's able to take your best shot and come back with better. You say you ARE that troll? Well, look out chummer, cause there's a rigger down the block who can grease you without ever leaving his flop. And there's a mage who can send an elemental to burn down that rigger's flop, and there's a decker who can set that mage up for a fall with Lone Star or some Corp without even breaking a cyber-sweat. You getting the picture? You wanna survive on these streets, you gotta use your head, not just your steel. But you didn't come for a lecture. Problem is, my story's not really that interesting. I just sorta fell into the bounty business. I started off hiring myself out as whatever I could. Cheap muscle, night security guard, guide for folks with big guns and nothing better to do than hunt paranormal critters. Nothing too dangerous, but nothing too exciting either. Then one day I'm talking to this friend of mine who happens to be a cop, and he mentions that some big shot BTL dealer had just been busted. We get to talking about it, and he tells me that it wasn't the cops who caught him, but some bounty hunter, and that he was worth some pretty big cred. Well, I got to thinking about that. Seemed a lot more interesting than babysitting some warehouse, and somehow more noble than collecting for some fixer. So I looked into it, and now here I am. And truth be told, Bounty Hunter is really just another term for pseudo-legitimate Shadowrunner. I do some free-lance work, some jobs for the cops, some jobs for the Corps. And sometimes I just go back to security work, or whatever will pay the bills.

Well, I guess you don't need to know how I spent every day of my life. Suffice it to say that over the years I've learned a few things, and managed to survive. And since you asked, here's some more free advice.

You can never have too many friends. On the other hand, treat them well; they make worse enemies.

Old people are usually wise. If they weren't they wouldn't live that long. That young kid who didn't think my granddad had anything useful to say has long since grown up. I've spent a lot less time at his feet these past few years, but I've paid a lot more attention while I'm there.

Just because they stopped shooting, don't assume they ran out of ammo.

If you kill someone, your odds of successfully questioning them go way down. Then again, the same holds true if they kill you.

No matter what Mr. Johnson says, the Corp does not care about you. You are expendable at best, and a liability at worst.

Now I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've gotta stop that guy I'm watching from slipping out the back, and then I've gotta come back here and have a word with the bartender who just tipped him off . . .