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Welcome to New York 2012!

You wake in stages and your mind goes through a mental check list, you feel cold and numb as if you have been asleep or still for too long, your body is sore and you feel as if you have run a marathon. Nothing seems broken and even after you open your eyes no light is visible, you are lying in darkness and your neck and shoulders feel hot and have a dull throbbing ache. You flex your hands to return the blood flow to normal and you tentatively shuffle your arms and elbows up under neath you so as to sit up, the motions seems to trip the lighting, the strip lights flicker and spark into life. With the tink tink and hum of the starter kicking the lights into action in sequence the room lights up in stages. Momentarily blinded, you sense you are not alone, your head is aching and fuzzy and you when you are able to see your vision seems blurred with a dancing nimbus around objects and shadows.
When your eyes clear you look around you at the narrow long room and the people in it, four others are waking or lying stunned, unconscious and in one case lying face down and obviously very dead. All of you are on metal operating tables in the modern windowless room two smaller stands next to you, one empty now but you know it should contain surgical instruments, the second has a neatly folded black uniform, boots, a flack jacket, utility belt with Glock 9mm side arm in its holster, mace spray, a flash bang, a radio with sub vocal mic and ear bud and a black helmet labelled “SWAT”. At the back of the room contains a curtained off area one half open which has a table with two shields with pains of bullet proof glass in them (one damaged beyond use almost folded in half) a battering ram, two Mossberg Shotguns and ten or so MP5 sub machine guns with an assortment of damage and spattering of blood on them. The whole left hand wall has a series in two rows of small sturdy looking doors (eight in all) like a morgue, finally at the front of the room is a large metal door with a complicated looking lock on it a pull cord for lights near by and a glass fronted large padlocked double fridge with labelled vials and test tubes, a shelf of pitri dishes and four hanging racks full of a large number of IV bags with labels on them, all sat humming to one side of the door, like some grotesque vending machine.
The others in the room like you, look bruised, bloody and battered all of them are only wearing underwear, with the exception of the large figure laying face down dead with the rear of his neck ripped open exposing the remains of his spine, multiple gunshot wounds perforate his corpse, dressed in what was once a very nice soft and light summer suit mocking the gory nature of its owner. Blood has begun to pool under him and his shirt and suit have absorbed the pink stain of his life blood. Other than the mess on the tables from your own injuries and the gore of the deceased man the rooms floor is immaculate, smells faintly of disinfectant, with an undertone of sweat, blood and cordite from your own hands. A sharp pain in your neck draws your hand to a scar or on the back of your neck and as you explore this you discover two or three neat stitches back there.
A sudden fear grips as you realise you remember nothing of the past, your name your life is gone and above all else you have no idea why you are here or who these other people are……somewhere inside you, you feel a rage begin to slowly unfold…..who ever did this is gonna pay.

This is your new campaign homepage. The first thing you should do is invite your players. Click on the ‘Manage Members’ link in the right sidebar and send them an invite to join the campaign.

After that, take a look at your wiki. There is some more helpful info there.

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NYPD Green evilbill