Streets of Shoreline (S.O.S.) - D20 Modern

Session 1
Wilson and Wheaton Begin Their Journey

Chapter 1: God Save District 6

At this time you find yourselves on a rooftop with a group of other survivors. It is often believed that it is often safer to remain above ground, and away from those feral monsters roaming below.

You have taxed out your resources, and must make your way back into the city to find supplies, resources, shelter and a solid plan for either survival or escape from District 6.

The players are met by a man much older than they named John Fitzgerald. A man in his late fifties, around 6’0 tall and a saggy body he stands with short snow white hair slicked back with days of sweat. He wears a stained white tee shirt tucked into his blue jeans. His skin is pale and his cheeks are rosy.

John suggests to the party that the safest bet would be to head straight north to the WADE Bank, one of the few buildings left in the area not only with power, but with the strongest security. From there, the party should set up shop and try and find food. He has patched the party up before with stitches and basic medical care, but even those supplies have been taxed out.

The two adventurers begin plotting their next move. One, a steampunk cosplayer who shields his balding underneath his black cowboy hat. He spins the chambers of his revolvers and spins the guns into his holsters. The other, draped in tattered remains of a business suit stands a man with long matted black hair and a long beard. His features are unkempt, and his hair is almost in dreadlocks. Their two options to head into the street are either navigating the dark furniture outlet below them by using the roof entrance, or by leaping off of the roof onto the top of a moving truck. There is a chain and lock bracing the doors down into the building, and in the days that have passed there has been several noises and indications that ferals reside in the lower levels.

After little debate, the two heroes decide best to put their acrobatics to the test by leaping from the roof onto the truck. Before the bearded man (nicknamed “Wheaton) can react, the other man (nicknamed “Wilson”) leaps onto the truck, and tumbles to his feet making little noise upon impact. Not to be intimidated, Wheaton is quick to follow onto the truck. His landing is precise, but a bit noisier, slightly stirring some of the ferals nearby.

At first the party uses their wits to avoid the ferals, and spare as much ammo as possible, knowing that gunshots tend to attract more. They discover soon that this is futile, and soon find themselves in combat with a few ferals. After taking out a couple, the party dodges down a side street closed off by a makeshift wall structure assembled shortly after the 0 Hour. There are three cars parked at the end of the street just before the wall. The men’s eyes are instantly drawn to a bright yellow sports car in the center, where an ammo crate sits prominently in the back seat. Wheaton begins scrounging the back of a pickup truck, and discovers a tool box.

“Hope there’s no alarm on this car,” Wilson says as he holds up his pistol. He slams the hilt into the window, and immediately triggers the car alarm while also failing to shatter the window.

Ferals begin to pour into the alley, including a few runners. The party attempted to climb the wall, using the cars as a platform, but they were quickly pulled from the walls and attacked. After a few failed attempts at escaping, the party was forced to hold their ground and fight from the wall. The party succeeded, and finished off the pack of ferals within inches of their own lives. They looted the cars, and climbed over the fence.

Ahead of them in the street was a large fault line splitting the road in half. A light post tipped over, forming a small beam across the gap in the earth. Before they could investigate further, a man in the distance is seen running frantically, screaming in panic. Behind him is a morbidly obese feral, spewing some sort of gas from his pores, slowly chasing after the man. In a flash, Wilson brandishes his twin revolvers and puts two rounds into the blob-sized feral, and it immediately explodes in a horrific mess of blood guts and toxic fumes. The man who was running is in pieces on the ground, and a couple ferals come out of a building nearby and pick the remains clean. The two ferals, distracted by their easy meal, are easily picked off by the heroes. They move forward to observe the fault line, and see that it is filled with dozens of ferals, lashing upwards, but unable to escape the pit. It takes approximately ten seconds for both to agree that balancing on the beam would be suicide, and they instead head down a side alley to avoid the fault.

Ahead of the party awaits a man named Dybig (Pronounced “Die-Big”). A man of 6’4 height and the build of a professional wrestler. He has a sawed off shotgun in his right hand, resting atop of his right shoulder. He’s wearing a protective vest, an army helmet, and has a combat knife strapped to his leg.  

“I’m going to count back from 10, and then I will put one shell in each of your heads. The only way one of you lives, is if one of you volunteers to die first in order to spare the other.”

Two civilians are pleading for their life. They don’t appear as though they’ve known each other long, based on how they are frantically begging that they don’t want to die to Dybig. They both begin spewing reason after reason they should be spared and the other should make the sacrifice. It isn’t long before the party is spotted by Dybig.

 “You there! Haha oh this is perfect. Instead of letting these two decide who deserves to live, I’m going to leave that option up to YOU. Tell you what, I’ll let you pass through and carry on with your business unharmed. You just tell me who of these two you want to see make a big mess.”

Dybig begins counting back, but the heroes immediately choose a man and Dybig instantly decapitates him with a point blank blast with the shotgun, thinking they’d have a chance to jump him before he reloads. Dybig smiles at the heroes as he approaches them, but is prompt to reload the shotgun.

“Thanks so much for playing my game!” he says wickedly.

“Fuck you! This ain’t a damn game!” says Wilson, immediately angering the big man. He bucks the shotgun at close range right into Wilson’s chest, critically wounding him. In what felt like forever, Wheaton put enough rounds from his rifle into Dybig to put him down, with the finishing blow puncturing his lungs while he almost choked the life out of Wilson.

Fortunately, the surviving man of the two captives, known as Kevin, knew the location of a nearby medikit that patched Wilson up enough to fight another day, or at least a few more hours.

Just ahead lies the WADE bank, and it seems for now the end is in sight for our party who already witnessed near death experiences while only traveling a few blocks. It would appear, however, that it wasn’t over. Standing at the front door of the bank are four members of a fire-obsessed gang known as “Napalm”. They wear matching red leather jackets with the gang emblem. They are threatening to burn the bank down if whoever is inside doesn’t let them in. The gang members all light molitovs  and begin counting down.

What transpired next was a literal firefight. The attention was drawn to the heroes, and they took cover behind cars in the parking lot, but were bombarded by the molitovs. Wilson hid behind a large van, but the leader of the gang hurled a frag grenade in his direction. It landed right inside the vehicle through the passenger window, and the blast took out the van and launched Wilson through the air with smoke pouring from his outfit. Meanwhile, Wheaton was picking off the members of the gang through the roaring smoke from the flaming cars until one member appeared from the fog and attempted to throw him into the flaming wreckage of the van. With a quick reflex, Wheaton countered the man and tossed him head over heels into the flames, burning him to death.

The leader of the gang was next to show up through the smoke, but he hovered over Wilson, who was desperately trying to get back to his feet. The leader of the gang held a fireman’s axe high above his head, but Kevin attempted to tackle him off his feet. Instead, he took the brunt of the axe to his shoulder, almost completely severing his arm in the process. The gang leader took a final menacing swing, and Kevin was gone immediately. With a few more desperate shots, the heroes were able to finish off the gang leader. Wheaton helped Wilson to his feet, and the two approached the stairs to the bank where they were reluctantly allowed to enter, at least for the night.

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Character Creation

New characters start at Level 3. Human-Only class, so each hero gets a +2 bonus to any Ability score during creation. Ability points are +20 in the Point Buy Calculator: http://webpages.charter.net/tedsarah/Pathfinder/utilities/pointBuyCalc.htm

World: Players create level one characters who have a story leading up to the moment they all meet each other 3 months into the “apocalypse”. Players are allowed one “momento” to be always carried on person. This could be a photo, a toy, etc. as something that reminds them of the time before the apocalypse. And as long as they have that item, they start with one extra feat. Should they lose the item, the feat will be nullified.

Starting Gear:
               Weapon – Any Simple, Any Archaic (w/ proficiency Feat), Any Exotic w/ Specific Weapon Prof. All standard weapons, no bonuses.

               Armor – None

               Ammo – DM choose based on weapon choice.

               General Equipment (Table 4-10 pg 113). Go through each section of this table, and if your hero qualifies with the information below, he can obtain that many items from such category.

                              Bags & Boxes (1 Item), Clothing (standard outfit from before), Computers (Cellphone, 1 item), Surveillance Gear (Tech & Smart Only1), Professional (Dedicated, Charismatic, Fast 1), Survival (1, Strong/Tough +2), Weapon Accessories (none).

 

Bio: At this stage you must create your history of how you arrived at this moment as a survivor inside of the "WADE" Bank. 

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Entering the WADE Bank

The lobby of the WADE Bank is buzzing. Two men entered in through the front door after the security system was disabled temporarily. The remains of their fire fight with Napalm still evident just beyond the bulletproof glass doors. What remains of a van and a few parked cars blast smoke and flames into the air and do little to mask the horrific sight of gang violence. These two men that entered the building look worse than the carnage outside.

The first wears the remains of a tattered old business suit, and although it looks as if it was tailored to his body at one point, it now looks to be mostly in shambles. His hair is jet black and knotted in log dreadelocks and his beard is heading in the same path. His skin is of a brown complexion but it is tattered with soot from the car fire. He carries a rifle and a backpack. Alongside him, a cowboy dressed in all black with twin revolvers hunches over, too stubborn to let the beareded man assist him with walking despite being barely able to move on his own. He is severely wounded with a fresh opening on his leather duster's chest area. There is blood all over his face, and you're not sure if it's all his.

The hush of the room is quickly silenced as a sharp dressed black man enters the room. His suit, not a bit tarnished has one out of place accessory: a combat shotgun with a bullet strap hanging around his shoulders. His hand is prepped near the trigger as he begins to speak. 

"Who authorized letting in more civilians?!" The man sternly shouts to the crowd. There are a few other survivors here, scattered throughout the room. They all seem uneasy at best. 

"I did", says another man. He is older, weathered, and wears a green maintenance jumpsuit with the name, 'Carl' on the patch. "They just killed an entire squad of Napalm members trying to get in here. At the very least, I figured we owed them shelter until they recovered."

"WE don't owe anybody SHIT." Replies the suited up man. "Not in this world, nor the next. But since they're already here what the hell? You guys look like shit. What brings you to my bank?"

The party begins to explain that they came to the bank seeking shelter, and that there were other survivors (including John Fitzgerald) that would be coming to this place as well in three days. 

An argument begins to break out between Devin (the sharp-dressed black man) and Carl the custodian about letting people in, and how supplies are low as it is. A debate begins on if it would be best to stay and reinforce the bank, or to cut losses and leave it to the Napalm gang. Devin proclaims he will never leave the bank, as it is his 'brother's' bank. Carl insists that there's nothing left in District 6 to make it worth staying, but the money in the vault would provide them with a new life outside of the district. Wilson interjects and states that he and Wheaton will work on providing supplies and things like that in exchange for shelter. To test their loyalty, Devin gives them a mission. 

"The upstairs level of this bank is swarming with ferals. This prevents me from getting to supplies from before the Zero Hour, as well as the vault. If you can clear out the top area of ferals and come back down here, we'll discuss a plan for supplies. If you can both clear out the ferals, and provide enough supplies for this bank I will personally open the vault and give you and your party a share of the money for you to leave this bank." 

Two survivors offer their assistance to Wheaton and Wilson. One, a pyromaniac woman with medicinal skills pulls Wilson aside to stitch him up while the other is a larger bald man with a scruffy beard. He is strangely dressed in a bathrobe and loose clothes. The man is introduced as Jim, or "Jimbo" and he is equipped with a large sword. The woman's name is Jen, but her weaponry is easier to conceal. 

After taking some time to recover, the party heads to the elevator, as the staircase is barricaded with ferals lashing and continuously pushing at the doors from the other side. Using a key given from Devon, the party makes it to the upper floor. The doors slide open to reveal smears of blood on the walls before them and furniture all in disaray. The lights flicker slightly, giving an eerie ambiance as the party steps out of the elevator. Hearing snarls in the distance, the party hesitates to move forward, debating on the best course of action.

After a bit of awkward teamwork, the party began to come together. They searched all of the rooms one at a time, finding nothing but death (or undead) along the way. Jen proved to be incredibly useful as she unlocked multiple desk drawers, and the party discovered handguns, ammo, drugs, you name it. Jim gave a solid kick to an office door that knocked it clean from the hinges and toppled a feral down to the floor for an easy finish. He also stood toe to toe with a "bloater" feral, and when the ferals were all destroyed, he stood in the center of the room coated in crimson and flesh. Wheaton spent time out of combat searching through computers for spare parts and any information he could find. He tried to share some of his discoveries, but his words fell on deaf ears amongst the party. Wilson continued to prove to be an expert shot, taking out several of the ferals with explosive headshots.

With the main lobby clear of ferals, there were three rooms left: Devon Wade's private office, the Armory, and the Vault.  

The party opened up Devon's private office, and revealed two scantily clad female ferals, clearly escorts prior to the Zero Hour. Thinking quickly, Wilson tossed a molitov cocktail into the office, and within seconds the sounds of shrieking ferals filled the room. Realizing that the fire could spread wildly throughout the building, the party entered the room and finished off the burning ferals. Inside the room were beverages, a hand gun, and a private stash of cocaine, a quarter pound worth, that Jim claimed and stuffed into his clothing. This action was a bit curious to some of the other party members.

In the aftermath, Jen spent 20 minutes trying to break the code on the electronic lock on the armory while Jim and Wilson took the hands off of every feral in an attempt to break the hand scanner sealing the vault. Although Jim and Wilson came up unsuccessful, Jen managed to break into the armory and the party divvied up an exceptional amount of weaponry. Some grabbed specific items while the rest was stuffed into a large duffel bag. The session ended with the party debating what to do with their new "loot".  

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