In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 21):

"Thank you, I cherish the time we have together. We only have so much, I know."

Her man looked a little doubtful.

"The problem is, this is not a fair thing to ask of the Posse.

"Helping me endangers them needlessly. I can deal with this on my own almost as effectively. Therefore it's wisest to let me go my own way, if only in this respect.

"But they could agree to help for purely social reasons, out of friendship for me. And for your sake because they know it would make you sad or perhaps a little... unpset if they do not agree to help me."

Maura snorts. "Fair unfair who decides?"
"Schaeffer you are not thinking love, this group operates well simply because its people largely trust one another."
"Now I need a new Bike, so lets see if we can find one"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 23):

"Fine. Let us go back to the hotel and talk with our companions. Those that are not passed out drunk, that is!"

With that, he got up to return to the hotel.

Everyone in the Posse, which by default included Trask at this point, received a notice on the hotel room entertainment wall that they should meet in Schaeffer and Rowan's room.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 25):

Jane had taken a loverly bath (not shower) and stretched out on the bed.  It was so nice to just stretch out and not have your body be weighed down by equipment.  She didn't even care if her towel had somehow gotten lose and was only partially covering her.

She looked over at Peter and grinned.  "It might be selfish of me but I do enjoy these brief breaks from being on the road.  I think I enjoy them more than if I would have had access to them all the time."

She paused for a bit as the invitation or would order have been a more accurate scrolled across the entertainment wall.  "It looks like this time it is going to be a REALLY short break.  We're to meet up with Schaeffer in his and Rowan's room.  But relax for a bit first."

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 26):

When everyone straggled into Schaeffer and Rowan's suite, they found him waiting, looking a little grim.

"Please, come in. There is no new assignment from the city or the Templars. That I know of!

"But I need to talk about something that happened down below. The person who attacked us. I think he is someone I know, and that he's coming after me."

Marshall's Note: There is no need to post coming ASAP but may as well get this over with!

Peter took a shower once they returned back to their hotel room, one full of lots of scrubbing. Unfortunately, all the soap and scrubbing can't clean past the skin. The soul that is dirty stays that way.

Then after Jane's bath, she found him laying on the bed with his feet crossed. He looked more relaxed than he did out on the road, but not as relaxed as when they'd first got the hotel room. The Combine attack made him wary of considering any place a safe sanctuary to truly let his guard down.

His eyes followed her every movement once she appeared, however. A small smile tugged on his lips as he watched her. He leaned over and kissed her, then kissed her neck. And then the message came in and he sighed. "No rest for the wicked and his lovely companion." Though the words were flippant, there was a small ring of truth to them.

He moved to begin to get dressed, planning on putting on his armor and grabbing two guns...just in case. He glanced at Jane, "Should we make them wait then? Or hope it is nothing too pressing and we can get back here to relax?"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 28):

Jane shivered in delight when Peter kissed her neck. He knew just the place to touch and the right pressure.  Once she sighed but this time for a different reason.  "MMMmm?  Oh yeah.  The summons.  Let's go see what they want.  I'm sure that Schaeffer and Rowan want some personal time too."

Jane kissed Peter deeply, just to make sure he remember the GOOD things in life, and smiled as she got dressed.

Trask spied the notice from under the brim of his hat as he looked up from his cards. "Crap.. well Gentlemen it has been a pleasure, but I don't want to take all your money." He cashes up and makes his way to the room.

-

When most (if not all) the Posse arrived, Schaeffer poured himself a drink (scotch and soda) and made his way out onto the large suite's balcony.

"Please. Help yourselves to the bar. There is plenty of liquor there, other drinks. Especially you, Trask."

It was a large suite. As the height of the Hilton had been constrained by the roof of the protective dome (now partially-dismantled for metals) they were on the sixth floor, the top floor. By the same token there were no other higher buildings save for City Hall (the former Hellstromme Industries corporate HQ) so the view was still fairly panoramic.

Leaning against the railing, Schaeffer turned around and addressed the Posse.

"Where to begin? For one, we have learned the Combiner hired mercenaries. One of them looked rather like me, dressed like me and carried a large rifle. I do not believe this was coincidence. He laid an elaborate trap for us. Changing the innocent Moorlocks into Trogs using contaminated food, then setting an ambush. Something bothers me. He left a shell casing for us to find. It was .338 LaPua Magnum, like my rifle, but otherwise a very uncommon round. Instead of setting a foolproof ambush our... adversary was content to harass us, then withdraw. Had it been me, I would have not let anyone walk out of there alive. Therefore this was deliberate.

"I can only guess this, but after interrogating to the medic mercenary we rescued from the Combine, I am convinced this person is Joakim Schaeffer. Also a Colonel. And my father. But he is dead. Ten years ago he was killed outside Jackson Hole Wyoming. I buried him myself. I... I buried him myself!"

At this, he seemed to stumble, weakly clutching at the railing to keep from collapsing.

Peter gave a slight dip of his head to acknowledge the offer of drinks. However, he made no move towards the bars. For whatever was about to be told to them, he wanted this wits about him. Besides, if they weren't in immediate danger, he didn't want to get too much alcohol in him for later.

He sat down but stayed in a semi-relaxed position only. He crossed his arms over his chest. He listened in silence as the Colonel spoke at length. The frown appeared on his face and deepened a bit. He glanced at Jane and then back at the Colonel.

"Not everything that dies stays buried in this world." To someone who didn't know him better, he might have sounded like one of the Old Ways Indians, spouting spiritual philosophy about spirits and ghosts. But no, he was talking about something much more physical: undead.

He paused a long moment. "I apologize but...why would your father want to come after you?"

"Oh.. don't mind if I do." Trask makes his way to the bar and uncouples a crystal tumbler as he runs his finger along the labels of the bottles. Satisfied he lifts down a bottle of prewar whiskey and with a flick of his thumb spins the top off before pouring a hearty measure into the tumbler. Walking to one of the comfortable upholstered chairs. He takes a seat and puts his foot on top of his knee and rests the tumbler there as he listens to the Colonials story.

"Are there any left from your old unit who this person may have contacted or taken out first ?" Trask tried to count off who was still around from his old unit and repeated "Me and... me, oh and... me." He took a sip of the whisky and thought of something else.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 32):

Schaeffer sighed, shook his head.

"Why would my father want to come after me? I... I killed him. I had to... and I don't want to talk about why. It was he... he needed to die. Only I could serve justice. And release him.

"Ya, Trask. There is no one left of my unit. But I do know some surviving German soldiers. Comrades. They were down in East Texas, last I saw them. I split from the Posse for a while. Just for a week or so, about a month ago. Then I made my way up to Boise to rendez-vous with Peter, Rowan, Jane and Smoker.

"I, ah do not know if they knew my father."

Marshall's Note: Anyone with Scrutinise can make a check vs. TN9 to check the veracity of his words.

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg # 34):

Jane chose a non alcoholic drink and sat down next to Peter.  She glanced over at him when Schaeffer mentioned his father.  Things had a habit of not staying dead out here if somebody didn't want them to stay head.

"I can understand you not wanting to talk about this Sir, but we will need details at some time.  I won't ask why you killed him yet, but I would like to know HOW you killed him.  Most of us know that sometimes things just don't stay dead around here.  The other question is you are telling this to us why?  Do you need our help with this?"

Jane could be blunt at times and when it came down to her "down time" she usually was blunt.  She needed those times to relax and remember her own humanity so she wouldn't turn into a monster like some thought she was anyway since she work a black hat.  She also sensed that he didn't really want to talk about it but they needed to know things no matter how painful it was to say it.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 35):

Schaeffer shook his head at Jane's insistence he should divulge what his father had done to deserve justice. "What happened to make me kill my father.... it is too personal. I am not sure I could discuss it.

"But I will trust what you say. That not everyone who is dead stays that way.

"I do not want to involve anyone. This is my fight, and frankly, you are all endangered by being near me. But my love insisted I consult you all about being involved. So here we are, ya?"

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg # 36):

Jane looked over at Rowan and gave her a brief smile.  "Well that's because your girlfriend has more brains than you do sometimes Sir.  Don't get me wrong. If I didn't think you were a capable leader I wouldn't be talking.  BUT you already admit that we are endangered by being by you.  Let's see....

NOW we are endangered because we are by you?
Does that mean we weren't endangered before?

That I could have left the Black Hats without any thought to having my brains blown out and spread across the whole country?

We chose this life and we have made whatever friendships we can where we can.  If any friend is in danger and we choose to help them then that is our business.

Now, and once again no offense, but quit being so stiff necked and stubborn for a bit and accept whatever assistance we choose to give.  If we decide to follow you or help you, then don't insult us by resisting that assistance.  Some of us are just stubborn enough we might just follow you anyway.

Just think on it a bit and listen to Rowan.   You know where to find us.  I'd appreciate having a night for good nights sleep before any major planning is done though."

Having said her piece, Jane shut up and stayed by Peter.  It wasn't often she spoke out but she had been around long enough to know that she had been "endangered" long before hooking up with Schaeffer.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 37):

Schaeffer unbent enough to smile a little as he replied. "Point taken. This crew are not strangers to taking risks."

Peter let out a suspicious-sounding cough and quickly covered his mouth for a moment...just in case he might have to cough again. Certainly not to hide the smile that had blossomed on his face.

But as Jane went on Peter's face became its normal serious set. He gave a small nod. If the Colonel's presence put them in danger, it had been doing so for a while now. He might not have agreed with quite everything she had to say, the gist of it was correct. He discreetly bumped his knee against hers after her speech.

"I agree with Jane. Being in danger is something that seems to haunt us most of the time. For once, we have at least a small respite. I suggest we take it and plan our next actions and destination carefully."

He started to stand up with the intention of going back to his room unless there was more.

Jason had stayed silent until now. "First this was NEVER just your fight. The second that it hurt innocents is the second it became my fight. Second that which you call your father isn't get over that right now. He died the second you killed him if not earlier. I'm sure he left you no choice. That being said that was hard business I know. I'm not heartless just a son of a bitch. Killing the Reckoners is just about all I have left."</Grey> He pauses to take a breath and gather his thoughts. <Grey>"That thing is probably a Harrowed or a Manitou made flesh. The second one is far less likely. If the Harrowed loses control it is the Manitou that you are dealing with. Think The Boise Horror just not as physically destructive and nearly Impossible to kill. The worst we can hope for is grisly and best left as a last resort. Trapping it in a sealed room would be best. Yeah I act like I know it all. I know who and what we face and have for the better part of my whole life. We can beat this because we must. I have faith, but do you?" Jason stands there waiting for a response. Waiting for something anything to happen.

After a long shower, Smoker fell asleep... and woke up to find he'd been invited to a meeting that had started... he tried to work out how long ago but decided not to bother, just rolled out of bed, pulled his pants on and trundled round, still half-asleep and with no shoes on.

"Sorry... I only just woke up. What's happening?"

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 40):

Schaeffer listened to Jason's information.

"I cannot say what this thing is, other than it seems to look and talk like the man that was my father. Personally, I was planning on either tracking it down and putting a bullet through its head and then burning the body. Or maybe letting it track me, then ambushing it and sealing it in concrete would be best. Either way, can fire kill it? After all, fire is the best way to cleanse the impure.

"But I would like to strongly dispute something Jane said. If anyone around here is your leader it's Peter. I can lead soldiers, ya, but you are not soldiers and this is not a war. At best I can give tactical advice. I think Perter is a much more wise leader than I for what we are doing."

He laughed when Smoker wandered in. "Hello my friend! It's a long story but I think my father is trying to kill me, despite the fact he died at my own hand ten years ago. I think that sums it up, ya?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:37, Thu 29 Sept 2016.

"I have seen heads of long surviving Harrowed. Mind you that is all that is left. Best way to kill a Harrowed is with the same exact way that they died to begin with. So say you hung someone. You find their noose and hang them again. A famous case in this general area from a long time ago is that an Agency big wig was a Harrowed. One of the first in fact. He controlled himself until one day the bad guys got a hold of the way he died. Well they used it on him in a slightly different way. He went berserk and started killing headed straight for Colorado and they took him out. Point is they had to go get the way that killed him and use it a third time. Just barely worked. Sealing it into something is an acceptable way to do it yes. Fire should work if in no other way as to immobilize it."

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 43):

"He was shot by me through the heart. I can do that again.

"Anything that lives can be killed. If they are not living? We have seen the Walkin' Dead* so this is just another form, I suppose.

"If nothing else, I am sure cutting off the head will inconvenience him to no end!"

Marshall's Note: That is, the Walkin' Dead of the Wastes, not the now-ancient AMC TV show. Although you can get the show on the hotel's on-demand service!
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:22, Thu 29 Sept 2016.

"Uh... OK." said Smoker. "What can I do to help?"

Peter looked a bit surprised at being called out as the leader of the group. He didn't think he'd really done that much in the way of 'leading' really. He glanced sideways at Jane but was saved from comment by Smoker's entrance.

After a moment he clarified, "I would suggest heart AND head personally. As you say, removing the head usually has a permanent effect on the undead."