Mass Effect

Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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Chaos Theory

Bit ran through the figures, meticulously listing each cost to its corresponding entry. As he called them out he’d punctuate each entry with a subtotal.

Entry, amount, subtotal. Entry, amount, subtotal.

“Stop.”

He blinked unsure if he was going too fast. Bit did that from time to time. Rambling, was the usual accusation.

“Oh, should I start over?” asked Bit.

He ducked as a glass, still half-full flew past his head, most of its contents sloshing out over his jacket. Somewhere behind him he heard the glass shatter.

“No. Fuck, no. Just give me the final amount before I throw you off the balcony.”

Bit cleared his throat scanning down to the bottom of the datapad. He read the final amount.

There was a long silence.

“Fuck.”

Aria looked angry. But then she always looked angry. Or was that bored. He had trouble telling sometimes. Opting to console her felt like a good idea to Bit.

“The good news is, the majority of the damage to the station was superficial. No major systems were impacted and repairs should be swift.”

He gave a toothy grin. “And the death toll was restricted to Blue Suns and the Broker’s agent.”

Aria sat back in her couch. She signaled for another drink.

“They’re dangerous,” she said.

Bit wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or merely thinking out aloud. To avoid seeming rude he answered.

“True, but, resourceful. To breach the airlock safety protocols and to time the landing of their ship before the failsafe systems came up was, well, remarkable.” Bit pressed on. “And they eliminated their enemies with minimal loss to themselves.”

Aria turned and stared at Bit with annoyance. She mouthed each syllable deliberately drawing out the word.

“Dangerous.”

She snatched the fresh drink off the serving tray that was lowered to her, killing the contents in a single motion. “They’ve pissed a lot of powerful people off and now, after that stunt, the galaxy knows they’re here.”

A thought dawned on Bit as he stood there fidgeting with his datapad. He stepped forward, picking his words carefully.

“You know, danger is commodity of itself. Tradable. You just need to find the right buyer.”

Aria stared at Bit for a moment. Then, slowly, she began to smile.

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Deployment

The old human leaned back in his chair. “A nice touch. Saying that you knew they wouldn’t go for it. All but guarantees that they will.”

The old Turian took a long sip out of his glass before responding. “You don’t know my daughter. Going against my beliefs is practically a hobby for her.”

The human nodded slowly as he shifted in his chair. His face twisted slightly. He righted himself and rubbed his shoulder. The Turian tilted his head.

“Pain?” he asked.

“Just an old wound,” replied the human.

“I have my share of those,” the Turian gave something approximating a smile. He leaned to the side of his chair and produced a datapad. He placed it on the polished surface of the small table separating the two chairs and pushed it forward. “Everything we have on the crew of the Outlander. Assassins, soldiers, an erstwhile mogul, a scientist and even royalty of a fashion. A strange mix.”

“If history has taught us anything,” said the old man as he picked up the datapad, “it’s that strange crews get results.”

“The Normandy is gone, Admiral. And this… I still don’t like this,” said the Turian. “They’re criminals, known associates of the Shadow Broker.”

“Former associates,” corrected the human. “And it looks like their relationship soured with the death of their contact on Illium. And if our mutual informant can be trusted-“

“-which she can’t-”

“-they’ve been giving Cerberus a bloody nose up and down the verse,” continued the Human. “Bringing them in by making them work for the Council is far better than chasing them down while the real threat builds momentum.”

“By making them honouree Spectres? They’re going to see through this play. At the first sign of command or accountability, they’ll bolt,” said the Turian.

“Don’t be too sure, old friend,” replied the Human holding up the datapad as he flicked through the files, “There’s something here, something that the galaxy is in desperate need of at this time.”

“Please don’t say heroes,” groaned the Turian.

The Human simply smiled as he read the dockets but then raised an eyebrow. “Really, General?”

The old Turian steepled his hands together. “Whatever do you mean, Admiral?”

“Half of B’tah’s file has been redacted and even more so for Nymeria,” the Human’s voice came out flat.

“Turian intelligence. Need to know only. Most of the blanks can be filled in by your Alliance spies.” The Turian gave the Human a side-long stare.

The Human returned his gaze. “Indeed, like all those hush-hush counter-Cerberus operations. Or should I say, eliminations.”

The Turain said nothing but the Human noticed his jaw tighten.

“Pain?” he asked.

“Just an old wound.”

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