Ork Underground hacker


Redgrave is an ork of afro-american origin. He has black, short-trimmed hair, and prominent tusks, typical for the orkish metatype. His square-cut skull is attentuated by rather soft facial features that also make him look quite young. His datajack access is implanted next to his left ear. Being rather slim built and short in size for an ork, he could also pass as an athletic homo sapiens sapiens taking only his torso and lower part of the body into account. This makes it easier for him to wear mass produced clothing.


Many claim that orks live only from day to day. Some say that it is the circumstances of our lives that force us; others that it is our innate nature which none of us can overcome in the long run. I say: great ambition made so many tumble into the abyss. What’s so bad about appreciating the day and make the most of it? My parents were different. They had made it into one of the big corporations. And although others – the humans, the elves – had less obstacles in their way, they fought grimly for their chance, built up the modest prosperty of the middle class, and were proud of it.

I grew up in an arcology, the pinnacle of a corporate culture lifestyle. Did I like it? Did I hate it? It was all I knew. It was normal – that is all I can really say. And as it usually happens when one does not know another way of living, I did not really value the good sides as much as I should have. I spoke of wings and still was quite happy to have solid ground beneath my feet, deep in my heart. Especially knowing that this ground was dozens of stories above the slums of Seattle. And the education was good – I was able to work using various digital devices – a selection hardly accessible on the streets. Why should I complain about the Arcology even if indoctrination was a well-known companion. Be what you should be. Say what you should say. Do what you should do. There is no shame in being a small gear if it keeps the machine running, right?

And why should I complain now, that everything has changed? Like the Arcology itself, the plans of my parents for themselves and for me have perished. I have laid them to rest. I know exactly where to find their remnants. Unlike those of my parents of whom I only found names on a plaque. Perhaps better that way. My future was grounded in any case – in a world that is even below the ground. The ruins that gave birth to the Ork Underground may remember a time when they were illuminated by the sun. When they did not have to carry the burden of another city that has taken even their name from them. Perhaps it is the tears of this lost city that drip down on us while we rant about ramshackle pipelines? But I do not feel that weight on my shoulders. Let’s make the most of this day – and row back to the surface eventually!


Shadowrun - The Rat's Nest Redgrave