Quip is tall with vaguely Asian features, Auburn Hair and green eyes. He has an intricate geometric tattoo climbing his neck onto his right cheek.

Character Sheet


Angus Hayden (Connection 3, Loyalty 2) – Finnigan Pit Boss
Angus runs the back room of Quip’s favorite place to get some serious poker going on in Touristville. He’s a member of the Finnigan Mafia and has some muscle working for him. He’s pretty much all-business, all the time.

Halvar “Long-Fuse” (Connection 2, Loyalty 5) – Bartender
Long-Fuse is a massive troll. He was formerly a shadowrunner, but is mostly disconnected from that life now. He is the owner/bartender of TNT, a bar in Touristville. He’s generally a gentle giant, chatting with his customers. When his blood gets up though, watch out.

Lamia (Connection 3, Loyalty 2) – Fixer
A lot of Quip’s early jobs came through Lamia. She has a fairly extensive network of contacts, but almost none of them have any real authority. She loves life and lives it to the fullest, often sleeping around and “befriending” runners. She may seem like a friend, but she’s always looking out for herself first, no matter what you think.

Snaggletooth (Connection 2, Loyalty 1) – Ganger
He’s a small-time ganger who likes a bit of higher class gambling than just throwing Nuyen at Urban Brawl.

Tony Tattoo (Connection 1, Loyalty 2) – Talismonger
He’s a talismonger who likes to tattoo the Foci into his customer’s skin. He sells other Foci, but tattooing is his passion. Even when no magic is involved, Tony will happily tattoo anyone so long as he gets some creative freedom in his work and gets paid for his time. No, he won’t tattoo that butterfly on your ankle.


I guess I remember my parents, not that there’s much to remember. They were a couple of chromed out deckheads, living their lives in imaginary paradises. Most days I spent my time out on the streets begging and grifting to support their addictions. By the time I was 10, I figured I could do better out on my own, so I left. I haven’t seen them since.

Living on the streets of Redmond wasn’t quite the cakewalk the ten-year-old me figured on. Sure, my folks were a couple of addicts who left me mostly to my own devices, but I found out the hard way that there are worse things in the sixth-world. I learned. The streets were rough as hell, but dammit, I learned.

A couple years went by in my “idyllic” life as a street hustler. Life sucked, but it was mine. I thought that I’d gotten a pretty good handle on who was safe to hustle or lift. Turns out, I was wrong. On a cold November afternoon, I saw a hunched over geezer crossing the street. He looked like an easy mark, so I decided to help myself to whatever was in his pockets. The old cripple viced my wrist in his iron grip, my hand still in his coat pocket. That’s how I met Marcus.

I still remember what he said to me. He looked at me with his calm grey eyes and rasped, “Kid, that’s probably not the best idea.” Let me tell you, I had a sphincter factor of 11 going on at that moment. He didn’t let me go, but offered me lunch at a diner across the street. It took him a minute or two to convince me he wasn’t going to do anything untoward, but eventually I went with him. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was targeted by street trash pretty regularly, and figured that while he couldn’t fix the problems that trapped them in the alleys and abandoned tenements, he could at least make sure they got a hot meal.
To this day, I’m not sure why he decided to take me under his wing. I mean, I’ve got my theories, but he never told me flat-out. I’d guess he saw that I wanted to be somebody. I didn’t just want to survive. I wanted to thrive. I craved it, needed it. I think he saw a bit of himself in that drive.

Marcus was a retired runner. He’d lived most of his adult life in the shadows and after he and his buddy Long-Fuse were the only two of his crew to make it out of a run gone sideways, they both decided to call it quits. Marcus settled in Bargain Basement and did his best to help clean it up. He spoke out against the worst of the abuses of the gangs and organized crime, though he never went so far as to try and break their hold on the neighborhood.

His buddy, Long-Fuse, set up a bar in Touristville called TNT. It’s a bit of a dive, but with a massive troll, known to have run the shadows, behind the bar, the bar has gotten a reputation as being a safe place…well, as safe as anything is in the Barrens. He pays his protection money and keeps his head down, but that bar is his, and anyone who threatens it sees how much of a troll he can be.

Anyway, back on topic. Marcus decided to take me in and help me get set up on my feet. He taught my gangly teenage self how to leverage my good looks and read people. He gave me my first pistol and taught me how to shoot. He was harsh, but fair. When I lipped off too much, I’d catch some knuckles across the face, but never with a closed fist. He was family.
After a couple years living with him, I started noticing that I was getting fast. Like a corp chasing nuyen fast. Then, I started being able to see into what’s called the thermographic spectrum. Let’s just say, puberty is hell for most of us churls, but I’ll be damned if coming into my adept powers didn’t confuse things even more. Marcus didn’t know much about phys-ads. He’d worked with a couple, but never really got to know them or how things worked for them. He helped me work through it, but we were both just muddling through.
I lived with Marcus for about six years all told.They were probably the best years of my life. Eventually though, I needed to get out on my own. I made money playing poker and running odd-jobs, mostly as a bagman. I tried to keep my skills with hand-cannons as an ace-in-the-hole, and only had to draw a few times on some gangers or kleptos trying to retrieve the goods I was carrying.

A few years back, Marcus got smoked. It was definitely professional, and I dug into it for months, but never found anything. Marcus had a lot of enemies. He riled up a lot of people in Bargain Basement and I’m sure he had enemies from his days in the shadows.

After he died, I started spending a lot more time at TNT. It was the closest thing I still had to a home. I didn’t do business there, and any gambling I did was purely for entertainment. It was just a place to unwind. I eventually started hanging around with a waitress there named Sam. We’ve been dating a couple years and things are good. But now I need a new challenge. I need to make something of myself. It’s time to really start exploring the shadows.


Shadownrun: The 'Hood vanishingpointe Typhinius