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There is a place for people like you…

You stray from the soft blue light of your trid player, out from under the unassuming glare of synthetic yellow lights and the hum of automated luxury items. Maybe in a past life, you ran with a dangerous crowd. But let’s face it, none of that matters now. Welcome to the shadows, where people only see what you want them to see.

It’s a dangerous life. People do anything for a bit of cash. Jobs might end with you bleeding out in the darkness of an alleyway. Legitimate business isn’t too different from organized crime, except their trolls wear nicer suits. The Matrix is everywhere, breathing and pulsing like a thing alive and the only way to really live, they say, is to be jacked in. Even deeper comes the siren song of Deep Resonance, because nothing on the net ever really dies, and secrets are worth more than gold. Street shamans and mages ply their trade for creds, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t ready to conjure up a fireball that transforms itself into the specter of a roaring dragon to roast the flesh off the bones of those who oppose them.

It’s an ugly life. Without a SIN, no one cares if you live or die. Outside the gleaming, silver city of Seattle’s corporate heart spreads the Sprawl, filled with run down tenements and metahumans fighting over the scraps left over from corporate dinner parties. And where there are desperate people, there are shadowy figures ready to take advantage of them. The menace of spirits raises its ugly head behind the guise of a friend who looks out for you. Johnsons hire and doublecross runners for missions every day. Street gangs battle over turf, pride, and business. And there isn’t a god in heaven that can help you if you get caught in the cross fire. Maybe you’ll work for the worst of the worst, or maybe you’ll decide it’s time to push back.

Because ugly or dangerous, this is the only life you’ve got…

Night trolls