Shadowrun - Tabula Rasa

Remember the Resonance

OMG, that means ‘Oh my goodness’.
Yes goodness, not God.
I don’t invoke the name of Christian ‘God’, it makes me sick, the genocide his followers have done on my old Germanic people. They even twisted father’s image, made it their epitome of evil, an abomination. ( (this is Lance’s deity of worship, the hermetics of neo-paganism and explains his dislike of christians).
I hate these righteous Christians. This new guy, how can they trust him, he is a follower of the path of destroying life, unnatural. The catholic church, the inquisition, worst of them all….

It is late. I can’t fall asleep, I watch the Trid-broadcasts until there is only static left on the holo projector.
The buzz of the empty channel, it turns me sleepy….
Makes me think and reflect of what happened today.
OMG, Oh my goodness . What have I gotten myself into (again).
Vampires, dark black magic of blood drinkers.
The buzz of the static becomes stronger, overwhelming.
I see a small humanoid figure with butterfly wings in the static b/w snowstorm on the screen. It is screaming, pounding on an invisible wall between us.
“Remember Lance, this is nothing. Orion needs your help and only you can save her. You have faced dark magic before, far worse. Remember, regain your powers. Trust the Resonance. Ask Seamous, he might understand. Seek the sprites. You need to remember!”
Remember …. Vampires… Blood … Dark magic…. Blood…..Magic…. Blood-Magic…
I can’t keep my eyes of the static, the fluttering b/w butterfly wings. I lose focus, my vision shifts, my mind drifts…

>>> Year: Some time in the past, the 2060s
>>>Place: Yucatan Peninsula, Aztlan
>>> Mission Objectives: Deep Reconnaissance, Stay Alive

Stay tuned for next: Tears of Blood****

Father, forgive us


I wanted to give an update as to my progress. I’ve made contact with the group that we suspected were looking into the ashes, and I can safely confirm their involvement. Their motives are unknown at this time, though I can see they are groping for purpose. One of them, a mage of an unknown (but potentially troubling) tradition, seems to “need” the ashes. I’ll watch him closely.

More importantly, the Exarchs should know I was involved in the assault on Abbott Labratories. We encountered another group who also made an attempt to acquire the ashes… they were subdued and have been detained, for what I can only imagine will be very unfriendly questioning. However; during the battle many dual natured beings were released and escaped through vents using a mist form. You know what this means…

I fear our involvement has had… unintended consequences. I would advise increased astral overwatch in Kiev. Also; I’ve not asked what your intentions are for the ashes, out of respect. That being said; I believe their destruction should be our number one priority, any other designs for the ashes simply cannot be trusted.


Another Sleepless Night

Another crazy day over. Listening as everyone departs to their beds, I pull out my kit, pop the cap, and slide the needle into my arm. I feel a slight smile cross my face as the pain fades and the tension drains away. Bliss really is a hell of a drug. Automatically recentering myself, I pull open the notepad app on my phone. There are things I need to get from Sergei and the lady doc. Things I didn’t know I needed until I needed them, and that is exactly the worst time to realize that.

Apparently my familiarity with injection is not limited to Bliss. I apparently have knowledge of quite a number of deadly poisons. Absently my hand touches an empty spot on my waist where I feel a pouch should be. I first realized this when we found the troll. I would never tell the others about it, but I very nearly killed him after they had worked so hard to save him. I didn’t, though, because it would have cost the doctor her life. And for what? Appeasement of my inexplicable loathing for metas? But still, it’s a hard feeling to shake, letting a militant meta go free to kill again… At least Seamus left me a kill switch for the virus. That made me feel much better. I’d still have liked to be able to track him. Should have planted an RFID chip with the carcerands I didn’t have. But why? Why do I hate him so? He gave us weapons and trade goods. But whenever I looked at his gear in the corner, I felt a surge of hatred and fear. Even seeing him with his chest splayed open and cyberware and bioware messing up his insides… That tugged at a different horror. Hmm. I’ll have to come back to meditate on that later. For now, I’ll add “Carcerands, Naga Venom, Atropine, Cyanide, and RFID tags” to my list. Oh, and a chisel/crowbar. How could I have not had a crowbar?

And in the crane tower, too, I had reached for my belt pouch for something that wasn’t there. And I felt paralyzed with fear because I had forgotten it. I should have had a tranquillizer to make sure the drunk man didn’t do exactly what he did. I didn’t even have restraints, so that when he did wake up, he couldn’t have just gotten up and walked out. Add “Narcoject and Plastic Restraints” to the list. And Laes, too, if I can get my hands on it.

I wonder if I could get one of those portable white noise generators. Those things have tons of uses.

I throw down my phone next to me and close my eyes. I may not be able to sleep much, but at least blissful meditation helps to make up for it. As the bliss begins to kick into full effect, I feel my focus dissolve, and the boundaries between the astral world and the real one begin to blur. The dark room around me goes slightly out of focus and take on a faint hue that makes up the myriad of kaleidoscopic colors. Beyond the shadowy walls, phantasms flicker on the edge of perception. There are things out there I may never understand. Lance can do things with magic I that baffle my astral perception even more than my enhanced physical perception. Those phantoms come to him and bend to his will. But spirits are dangerous things. Cavort with the wrong ones, and you might lose yourself in the chaos of that swiftly tilting sky. Just look at that stranger that ambushed us on our way to the show… There are some forces that ought not be meddled in.

Suddenly, the tranquil shifting is jarred by a jarring light that seems to be coming from right next to me. Bolting upright, I look around, and sure enough, it’s coming from the next room. Not only that, but the phantasms on the periphery seem to have taken on a particularly sinister hue. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he needs to stop now.

I rush into Lance’s room to find him drenched with sweat and suffused with a glow of heat picked up by my thermographic sensors. It almost looked like he had a fever. But that was nothing compared to the astral aura of anticipation and… something else. Sigh. What a buzzkill. I lean over and begin slapping Lance awake.

The abyss (part 2)

This building is old. So old it radiates oldness, I inhale it with every breath I take, I feel it creeping up my spine. This church must have been built long before humankind invented plasteel and holographic 3D televangelists. No remote controlled sin absolution for a few Nuyen for you chummers back then.
Our small groups makes its entry through the large gap in the front wall that once were the wooden gates, now only a gaping hole, even the iron hinges have corrode to dust. As we enter I can see that all the wooden support beams have long rotten away; making the ceiling collapse a long time ago. The elements took their toll on the remaining walls year after year, for decades, even centuries. Only a few splinters of colored glass still remain in the rims of the large hollow windowframes, like reluctant witnesses of a glorious past long gone.
A strong gale forms as the wind spirits summoned by the lord warlock clear the space between the remnants of the four outer walls of dirt, rocks, rotten wood, moss and saplings staring to grab hold in the floor cracks and other debris. The eight acolytes we brought along help clear the larger rubble. It somehow feels wrong to disturb the peace of this place, but I know this is necessary for the ritual. The place has to be as clean as possible before the ritual preparations.
Most of the day passes clearing out the area and preparing it. The sun starts to travel west and without speaking it out, we all know that now is the time to start laying out the circle, the timing is essential. I saw the acolytes unpack the ritual material we brought along. The materials range from simple thing like chalk in various colors and bits of string to enchanted candles imbued with magic and made to hold remnants of the sacrifices we made to the spirits and powers to be invoked.
The lord warlock and high witch draw two concentric circles on the ground, 3 meters wide, a hands-width apart. Between the bands of the circles they inscribe various runes and symbols of protection and travel.
Now it was my turn. Outside the circle I draw four red triangles, slightly touching the outer circle. The triangles are pointing outwards like arrows pointing to the airts, the primal directions on a compass. In the center of each I inscribe the symbol representing that direction.
Next, where the triangles’s bases touches with the circle I place one of the enchanted candles, upright. I take white chalk and carefully connect the four candles, creating a perfect square through the inner circle. I know this has to be done perfectly or otherwise the circle will fail invoking and controlling the powers and my journey will be cut short, likely in an unpleasant way.
I finish the circle just in time as the sun sinks below the horizon. I place myself naked in a lotus position in the center of the circle and start to empty my mind, meditating to reach perfect calmness. My left hand touches the only thing I wear and will be able to bring with me to where I go. The pentagram pendant hanging from my neck, my power focus.
I feel ready, I open my eyes. Without looking I know the warlock and witch and the other acolytes around the circle are there strengthening my ritual. Opening myself to see the astral space around me I start to activate the circle.
“Spirits of the North, Powers of Earth, I call you to be present in my circle. Fertile soil, unyielding rock, brilliant sand and precious crystal. Send forth your power, make my circle strong and let it stand strong against all things that might come to cause me harm. Hail and welcome.”
A green flame springs from the northern candle’s wick and the rune in the triangle starts to glow with a soft green light. I concentrate on the light and forme it into a pentagram shimmering in the air above the triangle. The air starts to smell of freshly turned soil.
I turn my mind to the east.
“Spirits of the East, Powers of Fire, I call you to be present in my circle. Light of knowledge, hearth fire, heat of passion, spark of inspiration. Send forth your power, make my circle blaze with light to fight back the darkness that might come to cause me harm. Hail and welcome.”
The eastern candle now burns with red fire and the rune glows fiery red. I use the light to create a magic pentagram of red flames and a warmth soothes me before I turn my attention south.
“Spirits of the South, Powers of Air, I call you to be present in my circle. Gentle breeze, roaring gale, breath of life, wind of reason. Send forth your power, make my circle resilient and let it blow away the mist that obscures the truth. Hail and welcome.”
The southern candle ignites with a bright yellow flame making the rune glow and I will the rising smoke to form another pentagram.
Last I turn west.
“Spirits of the West, Powers of Water, I call you to be present in my circle. Gray twilight, ocean depths, swirling maelstrom, tides of change. Send forth your power, make my circle flow and change to protect me from harm. Let me drink of your knowledge and be engulfed in the knowledge I seek. Hail and welcome.”
“Earth, Fire, Air and Water, bind this circle. Watch over me and guide me on my journey to find the truth. I create a path between the worlds. Through a space beyond space and a time beyond time. I am standing on the border of the Otherworld, where the deepest paths are open on Samhain.”
I lay down on my back send my voice skyward towards the full moon.
“In the name of the great goddess, all-mother , Lady of the Moon, and the great god, all-father, Horned Lord of Death and Resurrection. Let my journey begin until I find what I seek. So be it.”
All pentacles of light flare and the circle now is encased by a dome of swirling colors. I relax, close my eyes and start to sink into a trance. I feel my spirit leaving my body, rising, I look down and see my own body, my mortal shell and the translucent silver cord still connecting me to it. “Time to begin my journey”, I think and by the pure force of my will I make the floor inside the circle crack. The cracks widen, spread inside the inner square, under my fleshly vessel. The floor inside the circle starts to crumble and fall into the darkness below. My body seemingly suspended in air I see the entrance to the black depths of the underworld forming. Knowing that this is where my journey is headed, I gather all my inner strength and dive down, into the abyss, at the speed of thought.

The abyss ... (part1)

When you gaze long into an abyss,
the abyss also gazes into you.
—Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher

What have I gotten myself and my new companions into ?!?

I can’t get his words out of my head:
“Fledgling, what are you doing with these ‘Pets’ here ….”
“…you did turn him too quickly, he is losing his memory…”
“Bring me the ashes of Brother Solomon, before the next cycle or your love will never awaken as a living in this world again”

My love, the emptiness in my soul, where is she, who is she ?? If only I could remember!
(FLASHBACK: I see a woman’s face, in a screen of digital snow/static. Who is she? What are those small things flying and swirling around her? Those things remind me of the Peter Pan movie, little humans with butterfly wings.)
I shake my head, should not have had those drinks at the roller derby last night. I am getting a headache and seeing faeries. (Meantal note: Do not tell my chummer about the faeries. Esp. after I made them look weird at me and chuckle for wanting ‘cheap fetishes’)

Though, the word fledgling sounds familiar, but I can’t place it quite right. Warlocks, Vampires, groups like magical covens and their new initiates, who knows what else he might think I am.
According to my new chummer Seamus’ matrix research, this brother guy is most likely Brother Solomon Heimlich. Seamus says something about a vampire cult, a fire and the Abbot corp is doing some research on his very DNA, right here in Kiev.
That can’t be a coincidence. But how are we going to find the location of his ashes/DNA in this corp facility? They got magical security and Seamus says their matrix is tight too. Again, the picture of the faerie/brownie/sprite/whatever flashes into my mind when I think about the matrix, why ?!? Maybe I should ask Seamus one day if this keeps on happening, he seems knowledgeable about this computer stuff.

If only I could remember how to perform a location ritual and had a magical group to help me in the mana sending, calling and locating. All sounds so easy in theory, but that is what it is for me now. I have zero experience with rituals.
Heck, with a good enough ritual (in theory), one could just ask Bro Salmon himself, he would have a link from ‘wherever he is now’ to his own ashes, and that would get around any barrier.

All this is going through my head as I lay down in my bed, but I am unable to find the solace of sleep with all these thoughts swirling in my bed. I turn around for hours, not being able to calm down. I think: “Maybe I should hit up my new chummer Boris for some ‘sleep aid’ drugs, he seems to have quite a stash. He is a weird guy, looks competent and familiar with the shadows, even though he has some strange views about metas and spirits. He would understand. I bet he would have something to help me calm down.”

My Zeiss Ikon MK4 show me the time as 2:15 am.
“Well, I hope Boris doesn’t mind me waking him up in the middle of the night.”
I swing my legs out of the bed and get up.
That is, I try to, but I can’t.
I can’t move……
I can’t control my body, and there is now this heavy pressure like a gigantic lead weight on my chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.
My eyeballs zip left and right, looking for help, but I am alone. I want to scream for help, but I can’t speak. Trapped in my own body, helpless, lying on my back in my bed, helpless.
Forced to await whatever is coming for me, I can only lie there, staring at the ceiling. Something is happening, a little dark dot starts to form. It grows. Some kind of liquid, it forms a puddle on the ceiling above me, dripping.
The dot moves, drawing a dark red circle on the ceiling above, around my bed.
“This can’t be good, I got a reaaally baaaad feeling about this”; I want to scream, yell out for help, but I can’t even open my lips.
The circle completed, dripping the dark liquid around me. The dot keeps moving, now drawing lines through the circle, geometrically perfect lines of intersections, forming a five pointed star, a pentagram. Drawing the hermetic symbols on each point,…
I realize: “Something is wrong with the circle, the elemental order is wrong, earth goes on the other side, this is where ‘Life’ belongs,….. This might be even worse than baaaad.”

WTF, that is not the symbol for ‘Life’, that is unlike any symbol I’ve ever seen .”
The ceiling starts to turn around, starts spinning, faster and faster. (or is it me that is spinning???)
I start to get sick and pass out.

When I open my eyes again, I am outside, standing.
Somewhere in a forest clearing in front of a building that is mostly collapsed .
It is COLD.
“No better place than here, no better time than now”, a male voice in a calm tone states from behind me. “This place has been a center of worship for our oppressors for centuries, their false believes has worn the veil thin here. Tonight is Samhain, the corridors between the worlds are never easier to breach than tonight."
A female voice from behind me adds: "The God and Goddess are supportive of your cause, Richard. How else can you explain the druid elf showing up unasked and providing us with this perfect location just last week”.
“Yeah”, I think, ”if you trust the Irish. Those celtic TirNog elves are crazy, they drink the blood of their forefathers. Even if they follow the same path, they hate non-elves. And why couldn’t he find a location closer to our coven. Romania, for Goddess sake, in the middle of nowhere in the Carpathian mountains”

But I hold my tongue, " ‘questioning the lord warlock and high witch’ ranks pretty high among the list of stupid things you only try once".

Next, THE RITUAL… Stay tuned Chummers.

Planning for Abbott

After getting back to the hotel Seamus sits off in the corner and begins to run search algorithms to find out if any DNA sequencing equipment has been shipped to either facility in the last 4 months, Or if any is due to ship in the near future.

Out of the tank, into the Darkness
Into the Darkness

Personal Data entry Log
Log Date: N/A
Log Place: Somewhere in Russia
Subject: Lance (aka Richard von Braunstein)
Data Stream Start: (wish I knew)

Darkness… silence …. Sweet oblivion from the pain…..

Where am I ? Who am I ?

I think I just died.
I remember the Hellhound almost biting off that guy’s leg.
I had to save him….
Channel mana, focus it into the beast’s aura, all there is …..
only chance…. Pain unlike I have ever felt before from the feedback,
lights out, Zapfenstreich.

I must have died, but at least I died knowing I saved that poor guy.

Darkness… silence …. Sweet oblivion from the pain…..
The dark growl of a beast, I recall it, my friend….

I read about dying, like a bright white light at the end of the tunnel….

No light white light here…

Only this annoying red blinking dot at the upper right hand side of my vision.
Is God a red dot ?
can’t be,
stupid me.

<blink>, <blink>, <blink>,<blink>
(red dot moves to center of vision and turns into a cursor)
(Suddenly printed in red letters across vision)

<hah,> … <must>

< BWHAHAHA, that is a good one, pain neutralizers, LOL….
I know street samurais who would kill to see somebody with that kind of military grade headware.
Heh, at least I got something to laugh in the afterlife. >

>>> COMMLINK ACTIVE: Bumona/CC contract: not detected. <click> (brought to you by CrashCart and Bumona, <click> for more information)

At least we made it out alife.
And here I thought I would have escaped it the easy way.

(end of data stream)

The Disappearance of Boris Kitiaev

“You are a hard man to track down.” Mr. Johnson glanced around the modest hotel room that I now called home. “It was our asset that you and your unit saved in Siberia. We appreciate your discretion in the matter, and feel that you and the remainder of your team were done a huge disservice when you returned home. Courts-martial, and dishonorable discharges all around, coupled with the nondisclosure that accompanies such black ops. Unfortunately, by the time we had heard what happened, the three of you had scattered to the four winds. I don’t know how much news you get out here in Russia, but I wanted to let you know that before we could get to your lieutenant, George Briggs, he committed suicide, leaving a note that said simply: ‘I only did what I thought was right for my country.’”

I stood up and moved to the vanity. I had already heard this, but I didn’t want to let this man know just how much intel I had access to. Besides, anyone that knew about that… incident… and knew where I was was a potential threat. I thought I had gotten away clean. No trail. If this company man could find me, who else could? Keeping an eye on the man in the mirror, I unzipped my toiletry bag and pulled out a small bag of tissues. My holdout was now accessible, and I had a clean shot to the man’s heart.

“Why are you tracking us down?” I asked tonelessly.

“We want to offer you a job. And to make you disappear more completely than you can alone. The only paper trail you will have will lead to an empty grave. And we will offer you not only the ability to continue your work, but we will make you better at it. We will give you training in our own brand of mixed martial arts that will improve your ability to survive and win in combat. And we can offer you physical upgrades that will help you run faster, jump higher, and see better. We will make you a perfect killing machine. And we won’t question your methods so long as you complete your mission. All you have to do is leave your Russian friends and work for us. You were a damn fine soldier. It would be a shame to let that go to waste because some bureaucrats want to cover their asses. We could care less about maintaining PR with the meta community, especially over a bunch of extremists.”

I sighed silently. I liked Russia. The mafia here treated me well, and watching little Larissa really made life enjoyable. Ten years old, and incredibly precocious. If I ever have children of my own, I would hope for them to be as wonderful as her. But my enemies are relentless. It’s only been two years, but already I have been found. And whoever finds me next will probably not be on my side. And they won’t be content with just me. They’ll want everyone I care about. No, it’s better to leave and keep them safe. But it needs to be done properly.

I turned. “Very well. I will come with you. But I will need to go talk with someone before I do. Sever my ties here. Tell me where and when I should meet you when I am done.”


“Ugh…why is there a phone in the bathroom?” an elf moaned from behind a closed door.

“Looks like our friend will be out of action for another day, at least he can walk now” mumbled the mage, Lance from his bed.

The Runners looked much worse for the wear after their daring escape, yet Seamus was still jumpy and twitchy at every sound. It is a wonder he didn’t crap his pants at the sound of someone at the hotel door.

“Complimentary room service” a voice chimed in a thick Russian accent. Yeah right – probably somebody trying to kill us thought Seamus. The Runners carefully peered through the peephole to see a well dressed bellhop with a tray of breakfast fruits, cheese and breads. They didn’t see any weapons, yet only opened the door a bit.

“My name is Iosif”. Iosef scanned the room to see bloody clothing, bits of armor, tech and 2 very weary looking characters and jumped into his “tourist” routine offering some of the other services he was able to provide – drugs, women, access and advice.

“We could use some new clothes, something nice…oh and we need to get into a nightclub called Faberge.”

“No problem, my friend. I’ll send Sergei right over and make sure your name is on the List at Faberge” Iosif happily replied. *Ahem**cough*

The Runners paid Iosif and off he went. “Phooooone…bathroom?” Elves can sure be crabby when they nearly get a leg bitten off. “Get some rest” Kai-Leng replied. Seamus happily worked on cracking the code found on the phone and the other tech he took from the facility.

An hour later Sergei showed up and took measurements and in a few hours the Runners were out on the town in their new formal attire. Tridcasts were showing the recent bombings of two government buildings and much to his chagrin, a younger looking Borin was one of the “people of interest”. The runners kept a low profile until their meeting in Faberge was to take place. They had to be off the streets before curfew anyway.

The crowd had already started to gather outside the noisy club , but Iosif came through and the Runners were admitted ahead of the line. The club was about half full and booming music filled the air. The Runners quickly assessed the club, entrances, doors, catwalks, backrooms etc. They took a table on the edge of the dance floor and waited for their meeting time. After some fancy deception, the Runners got onto the 2nd floor and discovered a duffel bag with more phones and some MAD proof guns. Seamus hacked a computer but wasn’t able to get any pay data without tripping alarms. All the while a projecting mage watched them.

The Runners decided to exit through the cargo elevator onto the crowded street outside. They noticed something unusual as a limo pulled up and the driver walked away. The mage’s spirit said someone was in the trunk so the Runners freed a tied up Iosif. “Bomb!!!” Yelled Iosif and Lance and Borin took off with Iosif in tow. Seamus, after thinking that SOMETHING had to blow up today, went back to try to save the patrons in the street. After some careful demolitions work, he defused the bomb and informed the club bouncer. The bouncer gave Seamus a number and a meeting place, the club owner wanted to thank the Runners. The runners and a very grateful Iosif parted ways for the evening.

The next day, the Runners met with Larissa, a college student at the Cafe on the Quad. Larissa immediately recognized Borin (or Boris as she called him) but was very vague in details, Borin was also wary to divulge what he knew or didn’t know. Larissa paid the Runners handsomely for their assistance at the night club and asked them for another favor. The Runners had to kidnap the daughter of a local government official and keep her safe for a few days until “business” could be concluded.

The Runners carefully studied the situation and decided to grab the girl during the school day. They implanted a suggestion in her head and picked her up disguised as her personal security. Larissa put the Runners up in one of the nicest hotels in the area and told the runners to watch the girl.

After 3 days the Runners returned the girl unharmed. They resisted a handsome reward from her parents for her return and stayed true to their employer. The Runners collected their pay and set off to find out more about their past.

The next day, Larissa sends them a message. “I have a few jobs lined up for you when you’re ready. Iosif will be in contact. Thanks again for your subtlety, it is appreciated in this matter. Boris, someone wants to talk to you and this time you had better show the appropriate respect, he won’t be as patient this time around.”

In the not too distant past...
Seamus gets nicked..


Normally I’m not a big fan, today I’m setting them off on purpose. Go figure.

I slide my deck back into my pocket and pop into the matrix to make sure everything is going as planned. The security forces were moving to the west side of the museum as planned. I look down at myself as I move toward the eastern hallway. The security uniform I threw together looks pretty convincing. Right down to the gun.

I shudder a little as I look at it. God I hate these things.

I make my way into the “Art of the 20th Century” exibit. As planned the room is empty. I make my way over to the display case. I’ve already shut down most of the security in this section I just need to remove the pressure plate trigger.

A little elbow grease and I’m home free. I take out the holo display I rigged up and place it in the case. After switching it on a perfect replica appears. As long as no one tries to touch it I should be golden. I box up my prize and make my way to the mail room. I love making these places mail me their own art, makes it all the more fun.

A quick change in the bathroom and I’m leaving the museum dressed as an tourist. I love it when everything falls into place. I make my way down a couple of blocks where a limo is waiting. As I approach the window rolls down.

“It’s all set, the package should arrive at the drop site in a couple of days” I say feeling pretty proud of how smooth it all went.

“Excellent. When the package arrives you will receive the other half of your money” my contact replies with a heavy Russian accent.

She reaches out to shake my hand. I clasp it enthusiastically. There’s a tiny pinprick on my palm. Everything starts to go fuzzy and I fall to my knees. As the world grows dark around me I hear my contact say,

“Welcome to Mother Russia Mr. Dixon.”


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.