Night, April 9th, 1879. At the Old Church

Some mood music

Father O'Rourke stood, finally finished. It had taken him all afternoon, and much of the evening, to get the place in order, but now the old church was finally cleaned, and looked like a place or worship again.

The door creaked open, and O'Rourke felt his hand slipping to his gunbelt out of instinct. He hated the instinct, but the last father here had vanished under mysterious circumstances, and he had no desire to have the same happen to him.

There was a man in dusty clothes, with long hair and a slight overbite. O'Rourke recognized him...he'd been with that Nathanial Frost figure at the Grand Bull this morning, making threats.

O'Rourke was on his guard, but something about the man's demeanor sugeested that he wasn't looking to make trouble.

"Yes, my child? How may I help you?" he asked, guardedly.

"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned." The man said, taking off his hat as he took a few tentative steps into the church. "And I am in need of confession."

O'Rourke nodded. "Come this was, son."

He led the man to a makeshift confessional, and took his place.

"Again, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." The man began, "Quite a lot. And it never really bothered me before, you know? But today I saw what was waiting for me. Today I almost died, and I felt myself slipping down into the fires of Hell. I swear, I could feel them licking at my boots when all of a sudden something swept down from above and carried me away. It was like an angel...and then I awoke, and I realized that I had better square myself with Jesus, or the next time I fall, there won't be no one there to catch me."

O'Rourke frowned. Angel? That sounded an awful lot like the clank..."Please, continue." He said, reserving judgment.

"Well, you see, it's like this..."

---

Night, April 9th, 1879. Outside the Oriental Theater

Some mood music

Luke crawled. It hurt to move...the bastard had plugged him good. Not good enough to kill him...at least not yet. But he didn't much like his chances without a doctor.

"Bastard. I'll get him for this." He muttered to himself as he hid under the boardwalk. When things quieted down, he crawled again. This time he tried to make it towards the back door of the theater.

There was supposed to be a show tonight, he remembered. Maybe the production was still around...maybe they'd be willing to help him.

He knocked on the door.

"I told you...our production is canceled! Didn't you hear me before?" Come a gruff voice from behind the door. "Go away!"

"Please...I've been hit...please help me..." Luke pleaded.

"Horace," came a soft, velvet voice. "Don't be rude. Open the door."

"Yes ma'am." came a grudging reply, and a lock clicked.

The door cracked open. Luke peered inside, but all he could see was darkness.

"Oh, look at you. You poor thing." Came the soft voice again. It slipped into his ears and crept down his spine, raising the hairs on his skin. He shivered in delight. "Look at all that...blood."

"Please, ma'am...I done been shot...please help me."

"Of course. Of course I will." The voice said. He could see a figure, long and slender, and he knew it went with the voice. "Horace, please assist the gentleman inside."

A pair of rough hands grabbed Luke's wrists. He was pulled into the darkness beyond the threshold.

The door closed. A lock clicked.

There was a brief scream.

And then all was silence.

---

Morning, April 10th, 1879. Victoria, Texas

Jericho Cantrell stepped off the train platform, used the restroom, had a quick meal at a dingy saloon, then made his way to the stagecoach station.

He stepped up to the counter.

"Well, hello there, my fine Negro friend! What can i do for you today?" the ticket taker asked Jericho. The large man resisted the urge to punch the man for the comment.

Instead, he just stated his business. "When is the next stage for Blackthorn?" he asked in a deep baritone.

"Blackthorn?" the ticket taker asked, surprised. "Didn't think we were still running stages to Blackthorn. Hold on and let me check."

The ticket taker vanished, and Jericho learned against the wall. While he waited, he pulled out a few of the posters he kept in a satchel under his arm, studying the sketches there, committing them to memory once more. He also reviewed the telegram he'd received yesterday. Yup. Blackthorn. He'd never heard of the place, and not a lot of other folks had, either. But it was worth a look, if this tip-off was anything to go by.

"Ah! Here we are sir! You're in luck, the next stage leaves in 20 minutes. Should be there by late afternoon or early evening. How many tickets you want?"

"Just one, please." Jericho rumbled.

He bought his ticket.

He wasn't the only one.

Morning, April 10th, 1879. The Grand Bull Saloon

The night was long, and for some, unpleasant. But the cock crowed in the morning, and the day began to shine.

Down in the Grand Bull Saloon, all was quiet. None of the regulars were about, and aside from Roland and Audrey the waitress, the place was quiet. Everything had been picked up, but a window was still busted, and there was still half a table protruding from the rear wall.

Still, Roland has a smile as his guests begin to find their way downstairs for breakfast. "Hello! And what can I make for you, my friends?"

[[OOC: Post your morning rituals and get settled in to the new thread. [Private to Wildcat Hawkins: Expect a PM on you Night Terrors sometime later today.] Once everyone's made a post, I'll get this ball rolling!]]

The Ranger made her way into the saloon from the (free) rented room not looking quite as put together as she had before.  She had left the duster and Stetson behind for the moment and her hair was going every which direction.  Her eyes were drawn tight and beady.  She looks like she slept in her clothes and walks like some of the dead people the others had seen around town lately, only more corpse like.

"Whiskey."  Kat answers, looking like death warmed over and sounding like a surly baritone, her tone indicating the listener should either give her whiskey or go crawl into a corner and die.  Her gloves were tucked into her gunbelt.

Robert wakes with a jaw-cracking and wince indusing yawn.  He starts to rub his chin then flinches.  "Damn.  I hate not shaving."  He pulls on his boots and his spare shirt, picking up his dusty and bloody one from the night before, and heads down to breakfast.

"A big steak, rare.  And where is a laundry?" he asks Roland and he moves to Wildcat's table.  "Join you miss?" he asks.

Wildcat looks at Robert and says nothing as of yet, but Robert gets a better look at her from this distance and can see why she wouldn't.  She looks terrible.  Her eyes have heavy bags under them, and it's apparent if she slept last night, she didn't do a very good job of it.  The work blouse she wears isn't quite buttoned right either; the third button is somehow in the second hole and the first and third buttons are somehow loose.

Robert continues to move towards the table, "Or perhaps you prefer to dine alone?"

"Mreagh." Wildcat lets out an indeterminate grunt but pushes the chair out with her foot.

Roland, diplomatically, says nothing about the lady's choice of beverages so early in the morning, and only cocks an eyebrow at the gentleman's request for steak. "Would you like a garnish of hashbrowns and eggs with that, Mr. Micklethwait?" he asks as he brings Wildcat's whiskey. "And that would be the Robertsons, near the edge of town." he helpfully provides directions.

Wildcat takes the shot, and it instantly improves her mood even if she still looks terrible.  "Yer a gentleman and a scholar, barkeep."

Looking down at her misbuttoned shirt, she laughs.  "Seems I can't even dress myself Mr. Mickle-Fwate."

[Private to The Stray: Not going to say much more unless Robert or an NPC asks a question or something.  Evans is my first target but I'm letting everyone else make their "Folgers" post first.]

"Hmm, alright, that sounds good.  And coffee." Robert holds up two fingers.

Robert considers correcting Wildcat, then decides to wait for her to be more pulled together.  "I've had a few mornings like that m'self.  The hair of the dog can help."

OOC: is evan's in the room?  If so, Robert will motion him over.

In a quiet voice, he says, "Something came up last night.  I was back at the site of my shooting, and there was a body missing.  A blood trail led under the boardwalk, but no body was there, and I couldn't tell where he went after that.  We might have a wounded man in town.  Could be a danger to any of us or the citizens, or an opportunity to get some information.  But we need a tracker, and fast."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:46, Fri 10 Sept 2010.

Eavans walks down stairs. Though he's in better dress and is less disheveled-looking than Wildcat, he nevertheless manages to look like he's had a rough night.

"Coffee." He mumbles to Roland.

He's not in his seat a minute when Robert mentions their latest problem. "Oh. Wonderful. Look, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some breakfast before I deal with the raft of today's problems. If your wounded man is smart, he'll skip town and we won't have to worry about him. If he's holing up somewhere, then he's probably not going anywhere in the time it takes for me to have a cup of coffee and a platter of hashbrowns. And if he decides to be stupid and come to us, well, I'd like to have a little caffeine in my system before the shooting starts."

Robert shrugges.  "Fine by me.  I'm still waiting on my steak."

Robert leans back in his chair.  WHen his coffee arrives he adds a dollop of whiskey and sips it with pleasure.

John arrives in the bar having apparently just finished slipping his duster over his shoulders before moving to take a seat near Evans. He turns to looks at the man and gives him a silent nod of understanding (not that John himself looks like crap or anything) before turning his attention to Roland. "Steak, eggs, hashbrowns sound good, coffee too, please." he says, the please added in as though he had almost forgotten to be polite. He even offered a partial smile, though it was forced, John could get up and go in the mornings but it didn't mean he liked it.

Roland delivers the various drinks, then delivers the orders to the kitchen. He admits that he's a little short-handed today...one of the cooks didn't come in for work, and his sister, who usually waits tables, was still slightly hysterical after last night so he'd given her the day off.

So all in all, it takes about half an hour for the food to arrive.

After a few coffees, Evans seems more in a mood for conversation.

"Well," he says to Robert and John after polishing off a pair of sausages, "Where do you want to start? With our missing Dust Adder, or with tracking down these witnesses?"

He also looks at Wildcat. "And I'm sure you have a great many questions for me, as well. What's on your mind?"

"Not nearly as many as I had the night before."  Wildcat has sense put herself together better, as if fighting off the effects of the previous night.  "I only have two questions for you now, and this ain't the time or place fer one of 'em.  As fer th' other, I admire that ya want to make hay while the sun shines but I think yer forgetting a third priority.  Who's going to actually police the streets of this town while this investigation is under way?

"From what I seen o' this town, it looks like you can't be caught with yer britches around your ankles.  The way I see it, once you who's keeping the town, it's a matter of if'n you even have any spare manpower to go lookin' into this other stuff.  'Course that's where I come in."

"I would say that you are receiving a somewhat skewed view of the town. It's not normally this...active. Truth be told, before the whole walking dead soldier thing, it was quite peaceful in town most of the time. It's only when I made the decision to hire on some extra manpower to delve deeper into this mystery that things took the turn they did. However, I appreciate your offer to help investigate these matters."

"So let me lay out what I intend to do today. I need to sift through the wreckage of my office to see if there's anything I can salvage, because I had some experimental devices I was working on which may prove useful if they weren't turned to scrap and I need to fix my pistol. I need to question four possible witnesses to see if any of them would be willing to testify against Nathanial Frost, the ringleader of that little escapade, so that I have enough evidence to bring a case against him that can't simply be ignored. I need to conduct a search for one of the Dust Adders who apparently crawled away from the fight last night and might be hiding out planning revenge. And I suspect I am shortly going to have to deal with the Mayor crawling up my rear about last night's fiasco which, considering his sizable girth, is an uncomfortable prospect indeed. Which of these tasks do you think you'd be most helpful with?"

"Yeah I reckon, but the fact it is happening just means someone needs to be holding down th' fort.  But if yer gonna salvage here in town all day anyway, that can be on you, kill two birds with one stone.

Wildcat chuckles at Evan's joke about the mayor.  "If yer missin' a man who needs to be found, that's the exact kind of thing Rangers normally handle, especially if he skipped town on you and slipped outta local jurisdiction.  Besides, I never turn down an opportunity to hunt a Dust Adder like an animal.

"But I don't think I heard the name Frost yet.  Is he the head idiot responsible for that little stunt last night?"

Evans nods. "Yes, that would be Nathanial Frost, head idiot and leader of the Dust Adders."

"And, unfortunately, my brother." Roland says from the bar. "For which I am deeply sorry."

"It's fine, sir. You aren't responsible for what your brother does. You aren't his keeper." Evans replies, then turns back to his tablemates. "So. That sounds fine, but I don't think you should look for him alone. If he's gone to ground on Ward's land, come back and find me and we'll organize a posse to go after him."

He then turns to the others. "Robert? John? Which tasks did you want to help with?"

Katy came down, also looking a little the worse for wear but trying to hide it, and still wearing her tatty clothes from the previous evening. At least the buttons were in the right holes, but her blouse was still two sizes too large and a bit more revealing than she liked.

"'Morning," she said, trying to sound brighter than she felt. Her stomach revolted at the idea of food, especially greasy food.

"Coffee, please."

Katy sat down with the others.

"I'd like to help too, if I can."

"Let me talk to the witnesses. I might be able to talk them into testifying officially." Robert says.  "Hey Roland, did Walking Bear come in last night?  He was staying here, right?"

Evans looks a bit surprised, but pleased, at Katy's offer of help. "Well, thank you very much, ma'am. Lord knows I can use all the help I can get."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the list of names and addresses he compiled last night. "Here. The four we'll be interviewing today are Richard Clemens, Cornelius van Rijn, Gregory Hobbs, and Michael Sewell, more commonly known by the nicknames Clem, Dutch, Greg, and Mike. The addresses are here."

Roland comes over with a pot of coffee and pours a glass for Katy. At the question, he thinks for a moment. "If he did, then it was not until after I closed up shop and went to bed. But I do not think that likely...more likely, he spent the night elsewhere."

"Damn. That means he might not have made it back from Ward's place. That makes me nervous, and I think someone is going to need to go to his ranch and find out what's become of him."

Gatsu came down in a scarlet appearal almost resembling a dress, it was plain and made of regular cotton. Black rings kept the front of the hapi closed with a black obi around her waist. Though the sides were cut high up to the waist on either side, it was more for movement and it was cut short to the knees to keep the material out of her way. A pair of black leggings that fit past her ankles were underneath and her wooden sandals click clocked down the stairs as the discussion came about..

She had a damn good night of sleep, like the dead, she was out cold in another world. Her face was cleaned from the blood and sweat, moving to an adjacent table from the growing party.

" I'll head down to the Ranch. Right after breakfast." She started, her pack weighing on her shoulder for a moment. " Roland. Sir. Some biscuits, gravy, and eggs, if ya oblige." She started to unload the ghost rock. " I'll sell you that ghost rock now, Evans. Just these two big ones. I'm keepin the lil one. Just incase."

"Well, thank you, ma'am." Evans says. He opens his mouth, possibly to give a warning about the possible danger, but apparently thinks better of it. Instead, he nods at the Ghost Rock. "That's appreciated." He pulls out a wallet and counts out fifteen dollars, handing the bills over.

He picks up the chunks and pockets one. The other he shows to Wildcat. "This, my dear, seems to be what the whole fuss is about. The walking dead men we've encountered so far each had a chunk of this on them. We think it may have been mined locally." He lets the implications of that sink in.

The day, Mayor Brubaker reflected as he smoked his cigar and regarded the pile of notices that had already accrued this morning, was not off to a promising start.

He was already in a foul mood, due to the cancellation of a show he was quite looking forward to due to a gunfight on mainstreet. A gunfight! In his town!

Two gunfights, in fact. Some of Ward's boys had an altercation with that infernal contraption near the Red Eye. He hoped they at least turned it to scrap.

But this situation was growing intolerable. Already, there were rumors that a Ranger might be coming to town, and the Rangers were the last thing the Mayor wanted to deal with.

He called for his coach. it was time to inspect the scene personally, and from there he could seek Evans and try to make sense of the situation. From there, well...that would have to be decided.

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #23):

It's apparent Wildcat isn't sure what to make of that at all, and is outright perplexed by Evan's information.  This just adds a whole new layer of strangeness to this case.

"This mess goes deeper than a well in Death Valley."

"Well! I suppose we should get started." Evans says. "Robert, you see to those witnesses. Miss Hawkins, I'll let you get to tracking that Ruffian. John, Miss Gangatsu, I wish you luck on the ranch. And Miss Devon, I'd be much obliged if you'd accompany me to help sift through the remains of my office for supplies."

With that, he lets them get to it.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Robert, give me a Streetwise check and a description of how you question the witnesses.]

[Private to Wildcat Hawkins: Wildcat, give me a Streetwise check and describe how you go about following the trail.]

[Private to Gangatsu; John Smith: It'll take you about an hour to get to the ranch on foot, half that on horseback.]

Wildcat takes to the streets after making sure Idjit will be fine for the time being, toting her Winchester and knuckle duster at the ready, quite sure that her questioning is likely to elicit the wrong kinds of attention from the wrong kinds of people.

The Ranger has an excellent idea of where to start looking for this loser, seeing as every town, even Blackthorn, has its share of losers who have nothing better to do than watch what goes on in their little slice of hell all day.  The drunk, the old, the housewives, the young, the infirm, people that most others ignore, they see and hear a lot and are generally home most of the time.  Some of them must have seen the shootout in the streets last night.

Failing that, she knows where these losers hang out now.  The Dust Adders won't give up one of their own, but it's not too hard to look around and figure out who's pissed off their store or house has to be across from their watering hole, especially when their store or house was there first.

And to find a woman jilted by a Dust Adder in Blackthorn would be a God send.  Wildcat checks any place where one of those losers might try in vain to sew his seed.

OOC: 18:15, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 10,5 using 1d6+2,1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of (6+2)8,3. Streetwise.

[Private to The Stray: OOC:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v...&feature=related]

As Wildcat explores the town, it become more apparent to her that it's dying. once past Main Street, it seems half the buildings have been boarded up, and there are vacant lots where houses have been torn down for firewood.

As she questions the residents about the Dust Adders, she gets a curious mix of reactions. A few people in town despise them, sure, and take any opportunity to rail against them, but it's less than she'd expect. Most see them as husbands, cousins, friends, neighbors -- local boys who've gotten mixed up in shady things, but aren't bad folks themselves.

Most of the vitriol centers on three names -- Gus Shaw, Nathanial Frost, and the Wendell Mining Company.

"If it weren't for Nathanial Frost, this would be a good town."

"Gus and Tex, they came back from the Rail Wars changed. They got mean, them boys, and took all them others with 'em."

"Damn them Wendell Mining folk. If'n they hadn't of closed up shop and left us all to twist, them Dust Adders wouldn't be no bother to anyone but the cows."

As the day wears on, answers seem to get frustratingly few. No one admits to harboring an injured man, and even the ones who don't have anything nice to say about the Dust Adders (and are willing to talk, instead of saying they didn't want to get involved) haven't seen hide nor hair of him.

A name keeps getting mentioned...an old prospector by the name of Gabby. "Talk to Gabby, he might know." seems to be a common refrain. "Gabby's heard everything 'round here."

Gabby tends to spend the day panning the creek outside of town, then coming in and spending what silver or gold dust he gets on liquor, food, and fine feather beds.

Of course, it could just be simpler to try and physically examine the shootout area, and see if any clues remain. If the man isn't being hid by someone, there's still quite a few empty houses someone could squat in, or he could have hightailed it back to the Ranch.

[[OOC: Which do you want to do? Do you want to talk to Gabby [which will take out outside of town] or examine the area around the theater [which will require a Tracking roll]?]]

OOC:  Actually I'd like to do both but I guess one has to come first.

Wildcat returns to the area around the theater and plies her luck at figuring out where he could have gone.  This Gabby feller sounds right interesting, but the theater's closer.

08:42, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,4 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,4. tracking roll.

[[OOC: Indeed.]]

A little mood music

Wildcat reaches the area around the theater, and though the day is beginning to get busy, she can still follow some parts of the trail.

It looks like the wounded man crawled under the boardwalk, and lay there a while if the blood stains are anything to judge by. Then he crawled away. There's a bit of confusion, as he crawls through an area with more blood on the walls...that must be where Robert was shot last night, and there's hoofprints and lots of disturbance.

However, she still manages to make out a trail, heading for the back door of the theater.

The trail sharply changes, moving away from the theater. If the man was moving on his own power when he arrived at the theater, he's not doing so when he left...there's another set of footprints, and the weight distribution has changed. Looks like he was dragged.

The drag marks lead across a couple blocks. There's something odd about the marks, but Wildcat isn't sure what.  The dragging finally ends at the back of a boarded-up home. The rear door is closed, but the trail stops there.  There's a faint smell, like rotten meat, coming from somewhere, and the buzzing of flies...

In reply to The Stray (msg #30):

Kat slings the rifle across her back and pulls the Peacemaker out of its holster.  Leaning right up against the house, she circles its perimeter carefully, not really trying to avoid being seen, but rather highly suspect of what might be inside and taking note of where all the points of egress are.  Even though the house is boarded up, it's likely any other points of entry used lately won't be sealed.  She listens carefully, trying to determine if anyone's home, not really sure what to make of this other than it isn't good.

Aside from the back door, all the windows and doors have been boarded up and are secure. It's not a large house to begin with, only twenty by twenty feet.

From inside, she can hear a faint voice.

"Thirsty...thirsty...thirsty..."

In reply to The Stray (msg #26):

Robert heads out to questions the witnesses

[Private to GM:
Robert is not only going to question the witnesses, but going to do some subtle politicing.  He's going to talk about the gunfight as if they Dust Adders were driven from the town with their tails between their legs.  They didn't kill anyone, "these are just a few screatches", and lost a few members of their own, plus there's a Ranger in town now.  Times they are a'changin...

So, staring from that idea, "We done whipped those Dust Adders good, time to make them pay in court, just, for the record, what will you say when you are asked to testify about the man who tried to kill the Town Marshal?"

13:34, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 6,7 using d4+4,d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3. WC.
13:33, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 5,5 using d4+4,d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1. streetwise.

a 7, a basic success
blech, toss a red
13:34, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 10 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+4)10. red.

yeah baby
17!!

by my notes, I had WRRBB, now I have RBB?
]

In reply to The Stray (msg #32):

OOC:  Damn you Heroic Hindrance!  But you're still my favoritest hindrance of them all.

Kat calls out loudly.  "Texas Ranger!  Is there somebody in there!?"

She regrets the apparent thoroughness of the barricade as they're probably expecting somebody in through the back door, but whoever is in there dying of thirst probably needs help five minutes ago.  She makes her way toward the only point of entry that she believes is not otherwise sealed (although it's likely locked).

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #33):

Robert seeks out the four possible witnesses.

They seem to remember him from his first night in town. "Ah! The master of fundaments!" one calls him.

He speaks with each of them:

Mike: "Oh, so you're a deputy now? Well, I'll help as best I can, but I don't know how much help I'm gonna be. I was sitting with my back to the wall when the shootin' started. I saw Evans callin' someone out, and I know I recognized Nathanial Frost's voice. I also heard someone take a shot at Evans, so it was clearly self-defense. I'll say as much in court, but you'll have to guarantee them Dust Adders won't come after me after I done it."

Clem: "Hey! The man with the Ghost Rock! I done want to thank you for puttin' that in...I managed to snag it for myself. So yer takin' on the Dust adders? Well, I wish you luck with that, sir. And I did see Nathanial Frost out the window, reaching for his gun and boastin' about how he was goin' to take out the Marshal, and I'd gladly say as much to a judge if'n you can guarantee my safety afterward."

Dutch: "Well, sir, I will be honest. I was seated with my back to the window when the incident began, and I only saw the...incredibly large gentleman when he entered the Saloon. Though I do believe I heard someone call out for Nathanial Frost, and a reply to the affirmative, along with a promise to kill the Marshal, and I would be willing to testify to such in court."

Greg: "Hrumph. You again. You say you're takin' on the Dust Adders? What did I see? Well, I'll tell you, ever since Nathanial and them Shaw boys came back to town we ain't had nothin' but trouble, so I tell you what, I seen whatever you want me to have seen that will get Nathanial Frost swingin' from a noose. We good?"

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Good to see you. Did your work place filters on your internet? Or did you just get buried by RL?]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #34):

[[OOC: :D gotta love it...]]

More mood music.

The only reply to the Ranger's call is the man inside.

"Thirsty...need a drink...need a drink so bad...help me, please..."

The back door is nether sealed nor locked...it gives way with a shove. Luckily no one is waiting with a shotgun, but the interior is as dark and quiet as a tomb.

Wedged into the darkest corner is a huddled shape. "Thirsty...so thirsty..." it moans.

In reply to The Stray (msg #36):

"Sir, help is here, but is there anyone else inside?"

Wildcat thumbs back the hammer on the Peacemaker with her dominant hand, and draws and strikes a match with the other.

In reply to The Stray (msg #35):

Robert reassures Mike, "I don't think you have to worry about that.  Once Ward's in jail or swinging, the Dust Adders won't be a problem any more."

he thanks Clem and Dutch

to Greg, with a knowning wink, "As far as I know, Frost said he was there to kill Evan's and he drew first, if that's what you saw, and you testify to it, we should have no problems"

Robert goes back for some lunch and to report to Evans.

OOC: this will probably take longer to resolve than, say, what Wildcat is up to, so just let me know when everyone else is caught up

GM reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #38):

[[OOC: Well, Wildcat's actually not too far off, time wise, since she spent the morning talking to folks, trying to discern the whereabouts of the missing Dust Adder...it's near lunch for her, too.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:45, Thu 16 Sept 2010.

The match hardly helps. The cabin is a one-room affair, and has been emptied. If there were anyone else here, they'd have to be invisible, as there's no place to hide...unless they were creeping among the rafters...no, that's just paranoid.

The figure (a man dressed in dusty trail gear, though that's about all she can determine without getting closer) stirs, flinching away from the light. "It hurts...so thirsty...all alone here..." He grunts.

In reply to The Stray (msg #39):

Pretty sure this the a Dust Adder, Kat isn't falling over herself to help him immediately, although that is her intention.

"Can you move sir?"  Kat looks around the modest cabin for a coal oil lamp or some kind of lantern, suspicious how a man complaining of thirst has such verbosity.  He probably is plenty thirsty if he's been in here since last night, but he's being a bit dramatic.  He's not going to die of thirst that quickly and there'll be plenty of water in jail... wherever jail is going to be.

The cabin is just as empty of lamps and lanterns as it is of any furnishings. There's an iron stove over on the far wall which was probably too heavy to move by whoever took everything else. The only thing here is four walls, a floor, and the man.

He struggles to his feet, using the corner to brace himself. There's an odd shine to his eyes in the matchlight, almost like the shine of a cat's eyes when the light strikes it just right.

"It hurts." he says. "The light...it hurts..."

[[OOC: Have you moved in, or are you still in the doorway? Oh, and make a Guts check (+Grit, -3 Fear level) for the shock...]]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:11, Thu 16 Sept 2010.

In reply to Luke the Dust Adder (msg #41):

OOC:  I assume I'd have stepped over the threshold to be able to get much of a look of what was in here since it's just a match.

18:23, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 2 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2. red chip on guts roll.
18:22, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3,3 using 1d4-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5,5. guts roll.

So that's 5.

"It's all right now.  Come on, there's plenty of water where we're going.  Might want to shield your eyes though, the sunlight's going to be killer on you after being in here all night...  what's wrong with your eyes anyway?"

[Private to The Stray: Also, any chance of a Knowledge Occult roll?]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:24, Thu 16 Sept 2010.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #42):

The man slowly takes a few steps towards Wildcat, talking as he does.

"Not thirsty for water...they took me in, said they'd help me. But they emptied me out, then dumped me and left me to die...but I didn't. I didn't die. Wish I did, though. I'm sorry, but I'm so thirsty...the scent's driving me mad...I don't know what they done to me, miss, but I can't...can't stop myself...ain't nothin' wrong with my eyes, it's the light that hurts...burns...Red sky at morning, sailors take warning...Red sky at night, sailors delight..."

And suddenly the man leaps at her, latches on, and bites her shoulder...

[[OOC: Good to know... }:D

I likes me those Red chips...sure, make a Knowledge (Occult) roll. First, though, make an Agility check to avoid having him get The Drop (and an extra 4 damage) on you. Also, draw a card, as we're now in combat rounds.

16:39, Today: Luke the Dust Adder rolled 14 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+2)14. Bite!

Luke the Dust Adder rolled 5,4 using d10,2d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2,2. Damage. That's 9 damage, 13 if he got The Drop. That's a Shaken, and 1 wound if he got The Drop.

Luke the Dust Adder drew the single card: 3C]]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:50, Thu 16 Sept 2010.

In reply to Luke the Dust Adder (msg #43):

Wildcat grimaces in pain at the sudden assault and finds herself the victim of the worst kind of masher.

OOC:  Sucks to be me.

18:58, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3,10 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+4)10. Knowledge Occult roll.

18:59, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 4,1 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1. Agility Check.

Question, is that an opposed roll or a simple matter of he either got The Drop or he didn't?  I can see it working either way.  It's kind of important because I'm assuming it's the latter and I succeed since he doesn't seem to be using a Trick.  If I'm wrong it would change what I do from here forward and I'll have to edit this post.

Spending a white chip to remove Shaken condition.

19:06, Today: Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: 8S using the Deadlands system. initiative.

Assuming I do go first, my plan is to push him out the open door and into the sunlit street.  I'd call it an opposed Strength roll, but it might be a Fighting roll instead.  Your call, Marshal.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #44):

[[OOC: It's a matter of whether he got the drop or not. Since you rolled a success, he didn't.

You go first. I'd call it a grapple check (Fighting to hit, Opposed Strength/Agility to manhandle him outside)]]

The Ranger grunts and does her best to remember hand to hand combat training as she struggled with this... thing.

OOC: That sucked...

19:24, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5. white chip to reroll that disaster.
19:24, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,1 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1. Fighting Check: Grapple.

[[OOC: and the strength check?]]

In reply to The Stray (msg #47):

OOC:  Silly me.

19:47, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,8 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+2)8. the forgotten strength check.

Wildcat and the crazed man grapple for a moment, and Wildcat managed to turn the man's bulk against him. She sends him stumbling out the door and into the street...where he promptly bursts into flames! He starts screaming as the fire burns him. He rushes back towards the door, charging straight at Wildcat!

[[OOC: Luke the Dust Adder rolled 3 using 1d10, rerolling max with rolls of 3. opposed roll. Fail.

Luke the Dust Adder rolled 11 using 2d10, rerolling max with rolls of 8,3. on fire! This makes him Shaken.

He spends a white chip to remove the Shaken and moves back inside...though he's still on fire. The room is dark, but Luke is warm and bright, negating any light penalties

Luke the Dust Adder rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3. Bite! fail.

Luke the Dust Adder drew the single card: 3S

Pull me another initiative card and roll me another Guts check...fighting people on fire wasn't covered in Ranger training!]]

In reply to Luke the Dust Adder (msg #49):

Wildcat reeled for a second, swallowing the fear in her belly as she realizes the man was on fire and still fighting.  Well, she had chastised the Dust Adders from the night before for giving up too easily.  Be careful what you wish for.

OOC:  Damn you Guts checks...

20:12, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5. regretfully spending blue chip.
20:10, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled -1,3 using 1d4-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. guts roll.

That's a 10.

20:12, Today: Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: 2S using the Deadlands system.

Heh, I lose initiative to a 3. My luck done ran out.

The flaming man continues trying to grab at Wildcat, screaming as he does. Wildcat can't tell if he's trying to get help or take her out, but it's disconcerting whichever the case is.

[[OOC: Luke is still on fire, so he takes fire damage. The damage does not increase this round.

Luke the Dust Adder rolled 3 using 2d10, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. fire! That doesn't even scratch his toughness

Luke the Dust Adder rolled 2 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2. Bite! Miss. Wildcat's luck holds.

Luke the Dust Adder drew the single card: 7H]]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:39, Fri 17 Sept 2010.

Wildcat levels her Peacemaker and squeezes off a shot, which embeds itself in the wall.

OOC:

20:53, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,2 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. Shooting.

20:54, Today: Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: 6C using the Deadlands system. initiative.

Luckily for Wildcat, what her gun failed to do, the fire did for her. The man finally collapses as the flames take their toll...and as the flames die out, there's nothing left of the man but ash.

That makes it certain. He must have been some kind of vampire.

Vampires. That just made this whole bad situation worlds worse. Vampires are way above her pay grade.

[[OOC: Luke the Dust Adder rolled 14 using 2d10, rerolling max with rolls of 9,5. burn baby burn! That's enough to take him down.]]

The asian woman sat at her table for a ltitle while. On producing the ghost rock, she took the fifteen dollar pay off for it. She had forfeit Nathaniel's gun, but at least she kept a bullet.  Rolland brought in her request and she took time in silence to eat, listening faintly to the noise around her, but her attention was heading to the Ranch. They'll be caught there before reaching the house, she was certain.  She tore her biscuit into little segments and sectioned out piece of her egg with a fork. The woman's gaze shifted over to Evans as he told the others to get their foot loose on tracking people down.

 She ate and pushed the dish away and hefted her bag, her hat. She really didn't know how Evans knew John was going with her and for some reason that sent a ominous feeling. Perhaps John mentioned it.. Well, she she had a good hour's walk ahead since she didn't own a horse. Her sandals clicked across the boards, her straw hat shading low on her eyes as she headed out of town.


Moving to Chapter 6.2

OOC:  Oh for a copy of the Ranger's Bible right about now.  What do I know about vampires other than they exist, and they catch on fire in the sunlight apparently?

Kat leaned against the doorframe, feeling drained physically but moreso spiritually.  Fighting this creature had taken too much out of her.  She hadn't been hurt precisely, thank God, Jesus, and all the saints - even though Katrina wasn't raised Catholic that didn't seem to matter too much at the moment - but it had taken all of her willpower to triumph.

The worst part was, this thing hadn't spontaneously congealed here in the corner of the abandoned house.  Somebody had grabbed this poor sap around the theater, and drug him here.  Somebody, or something, had to have done this to him.  This creature was created, not born.  And what was with that weird chanting?

There's a whole nest full of 'em somewhere.

The thought made her shudder momentarily.  What she had first suspected was just a corrupt little town with a handful of strange elements where the status quo had been upset was far more.  There were things going on here, wheels within wheels, well over her head.

Is this what it was like for you, Pa? she wondered.

Remembering the rotten smell from before, Kat pulls herself back together and makes one last check of the place to make sure there's nothing else in here.  It's possible the pungent odor had come from the creature itself but it won't hurt to verify.

There's more to do, but protocol dictates this new discovery warrants some administrative actions.  She's off to Evans' office, and then hopefully a telegraph office.

[[OOC: You also know they drink blood, and usually need to be dealt with by a stake to the heart, at least if the stories are anything to go by.]]

The house is still empty. It seems the smell left with the creature, though there's a lingering odor near where it was crouching, probably just from the contact.

Eva's office is (or rather, was) a couple blocks away from the cabin. The building is a wreck. It looked like it was blown apart with dynamite. Evans and Katy can be seen in the rubble, turning things over and occasionally picking them up. Evans has an armful of brass fittings, glass flasks, and other things that Wildcat couldn't begin to guess the purpose of.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #38):

Robert, coming back from his interviews with the witnesses, is directed to the Marshal's office (or what's left of it). Evans is still  picking through the rubble.

"Ah, Robert." He says, not looking up from his search. "What's the word on those witnesses?"

Before much can be said, Wildcat runs up, looking a little distressed...

"Afternoon Marshal."  Wildcat addresses Dr. Evans, hoping she doesn't look like she's been in a fight.  Ah hell, who is she kidding, her duster has a fresh tear in the shoulder, there's powder on her Indian side glove, and she smells like someone burned the bacon.  Best just to hope people are too polite to ask.  "Ma'am."  Kat nods to Katy, acknowledging her presence.  "I hope neither of ya'll will mind terribly if'n I borrow the Marshal for some momentary law enforcement bureaucracy, if'n ya'll aren't over head and ears at the moment."

[Private to The Stray: Should probably pause here to let Robert catch up to Evans and say his piece first, or else maybe Evans is busy at the moment.  What I have to say with Evans isn't terribly involved but I will have to monopolize him for a bit.]

Robert nods.  "What I have isn't pressing.  I wouldn't mind seeing what you turned up."

Evans nods at Robert. "What I've turned up so far is mostly bits of junk that I might be able to finagle into something useful, as well as a headache from my visit from the town's Mayor shortly after you left. He is more concerned with keeping the peace than preserving the law, but backed off when I told him that the whole mess was now in the hands of the Rangers." He turns to Wildcat. "Speaking of which, I hope your investigation was fruitful, though I don't see any wayward prisoner with you. Have you managed to find our lost rascal?" He starts heading over her direction, arms still filled with stuff.

"Mr. Mickle-thwate."  Kat nods to Robert, having failed to acknowledge him for some reason.  "It's a matter of some delicacy Marshal, one I'd prefer for your ears alone for the time being, but it's not pressing or terribly interesting. I'd personally much rather hear Mr. Mickle-thwate's report, seeing as I'm itching to arrest somebody, and our good deputy here can talk a slug out of a banker.

"But I don't think I care to hear it out here in the street."

Robert nods.  "How about this.  I shall return to the local dining establishment, and arranve for victuals to be delivered to my room.  It is small, but we can sit down, eat lunch, and discuss things."

"That's the best idea I done heard since I done got here.  I could use some lunch... I ain't much of a morning person, usually I force down some johnny cakes and chase the whole mess with coffee, but I couldn't even manage that today."

Kat noticed she was hungry.  It was true she was used to being too distraught in the morning to eat much, but she usually ate something.  Every night was bad but the previous night was particularly bad to the point she'd had a double for breakfast, and now that the adrenaline had worn off hunger had set in.

"Well, then! I suppose this is the best I'm going to be able to pull from the rubble in any event, so let us retire to the Grand Bull and give Roland some business." Evans says, and leads them on.

Once the food is ordered, Evans, Wildcat, and Robert make for the room. Evans pays for the meal over Roland's protests, citing a wish to help pay for some of the damages incurred on the saloon. Which is good, because the Grand Bull is just as empty at lunch as it was in the morning. Apparently most of Roland's regular customers have chosen to give the Grand Bull a bit of a wide berth today.

Once Evans has stowed his things in his own room, he takes a seat in Robert's and waits for the various discussions to begin.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait; Wildcat Hawkins: Skipping the long ordering list to keep things moving. Just tell me via PM what you ordered from Roland for lunch.]

After ordering, Robert says, "Short story is, I got several people willing to testify about Frost shooting you.  AFter lunch I'll chase them down and get a written doposition from each of 'em"

[Private to GM: big ol' steak.  Robert craves meat when he's been injured...]

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Frost was the one shooting at Evans. He's the one they're testifying against, not Ward.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:09, Sun 19 Sept 2010.

"Excellent.  Is there a secure place to store those depositions now?  I ask on account of th' recent 'splosions."  Wildcat eating stops just for a moment.

[Private to The Stray: Chili and Cornbread! MMMM MMM!]

"Well, that's a relief." Evans says to Robert. "Perhaps once Miss Gangatsu gets back, hopefully with word on our Indian friend, we can organize a posse to hunt down Frost. I have no idea where to hold him once we have him, and there's still the matter of the missing judge to look into, but let's tackle one problem at a time."

"Well, I suppose I could open a deposit box at The Great Southwestern Stage Company offices." He says at Wildcat's question. "That should be secure enough, assuming the Dust adders don't decide to try and run the stage company out of town."

Evans takes a bite of his meal after it arrives, waiting for the part of the discussion that required a private room to begin.

[[OOC: Ball's in your court, folks.]]

"Sounds good.  I'll get the paperword and lock them up there before supper" he turns to Wildcan.  "And how was your morning?"

Katy had spent the morning picking over the rubble with Evans, without much success, before returning to the Grand Bull.

"How well defended is the Stage Company? If they decide to attack it, I mean."

In reply to Katy Devon (msg #70):

"Well, the trick would be not giving them a reason to attack it in the first place. The Dust Adders aren't robbers, what ever their other faults may be, so if we were to store anything there, the best way would be to open a box anonymously." He gives Katy a thoughtful look. "Say, by someone not connected to the whole unpleasant business? Marshal Evans going to the stage company to store some documents might work it's way into the local rumor mill. But a nice young lady from Back East doing the same? Far less attention paid to that."

"That's a damn good idea."  Kat leans back in her chair and pulls out a cigar.  As she talks, she cuts the end and retrieves a match.  "Of course it puts you in danger.  Of course, that's the whole problem.  Mr. Mickle-fwate, I do plan on answering your question.  But I got to ask something first."

She doesn't expand on that thought at the moment, but continues nonetheless.

"Dr. Evans, ya know that question that wasn't appropriate before?  I'm gonna ask it now.  Why in the blue hell didn't you just hand me the reins of this whole mess and take off last night like a sane man?  There'd be no shame in it.  I signed up for this hell-fired hair in the butter, you didn't."

Evans laughs. "Believe me, the thought had crossed my mind. More than once. Long before you showed up, even. And believe me, I thought the situation was poor even before I started poking it with a stick."

He takes a long drink from a flask. "And you would not have had to ask me that question a year ago, because, to be honest, I would not be here. Before I came to Blackthorn, I traveled the countryside, peddling cure-alls, robbing young maidens of their honor, and being an all-around scoundrel. Then my partner and I stopped here in Blackthorn, right before a bandit attack. And, damn fool that I was, I got involved. I helped chase the bandits off with some of my inventions, while my partner decided to pull up stakes and head for the hills."

"I was faced with a choice after that. I could have followed after my erstwhile companion, but I was offered the job of Marshal by a grateful populace, and damn didn't it feel good to be a hero for once instead of a shyster. So I accepted."

"This was, naturally, before I discovered just how deep the rabbit hole went. But when things like this happen, a man is faced with a choice, and that choice reveals his character. My choice was what kind of man did I want to be? Did I want to be the kind of person who mugs for glory when it's convenient but lights out at the first sign of hardship? Or did I want to be the kind of man who can suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, cut to the heart of the troubles, and perhaps make a difference in these people's lives for the better?"

"I've been out on the road, and that sort of life isn't as entertaining after a while as the novels might make it out to be. But if I left now, I'd be moving down that road forever, rootless and drifting. I deserve to be a better man than that, and, frankly, so do the people of this town who rely on me to keep the peace."

"They've already been abandoned once, when the mine closed and the company pulled up stakes. They deserve better than that. I only hope, in some small way, I can do my part in leaving these folk better than I found them. That's the kind of person I'd rather be now."

He sighs, and takes another drink. "I'm sorry. I've been rambling."

"No need for apologies sir, that's the kind of rambling I needed to hear.  Now..."  Kat cuts the cigar and turns her attention to Robert and Katy.  "Before I answer the ever patient Mr. Mickle-fwate, I've got to ask you all something.  Mr. Mickle-fwate and I have discussed this previously to some extent and you don't have to repeat yourself sir, but I reckon you might have to 'laborate."

Striking a match and shifting position, she continues.  "I don't doubt the sand in the craw of anybody in this room an I ain't any better than anyone else.  But the fact is, I don't think one of ya'll is a bona fide lawman, so I have to ask who here is really willing to do whatever it takes to get this job done, even if it means doing what I or Marshal Evans tell you to without question, if it comes down to that?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Tue 21 Sept 2010.

"I fought in the war, in the battle for washington.  I know what happens when orders are disobeyed," Roberts spits out bitterly, "You dont have to worry about me"

"I had that feelin' about you Mr. Mickle-fwate.  You know exactly what I'm talking about then, probably better than I do."  Kat takes a long drag off the cigar.  "But I don't get that warm fuzzy feeling from some 'o th' others I done seen.  Don't mean they're bad people, just means they don't understand like you understand."

Wildcat's cigar smoking manner is a study in contrasts.  While hardly lady like in and of itself, the way her slender fingers gently curve around the stogie, and the careful reserved nature of her puffs, like she was subconsciously trying to be reserved about it, give the activity a certain je ne sais quoi that would be characterized as feminine.

"Short version is gentlemen, I did find our Dust Adder.  Huntin' a man down is sort of what I do for a living."

"And since you don't bring him back, I assume he was dead, or you had t'kill him?"

Evans, sits back, listening to the ongoing conversation.

[[OOC: Just posting in case anyone was waiting on me for a reply. Carry on.]]

"Oh he's dead all right."  Kat chuckles grimly.  "Twice over."

"Oh, wonderful." Evans groans. "Now whatever caused the Yankees to rise is spreading to the general populace."

"I've heard about that, but I've got to ask something about them.  These Yankees, did they catch on fire in the sunlight?"  Kat grins humorlessly.  "Oh, and there's more to it than that even."

"The one I encountered it was at night, in the rain, so I don't rightly know.  No one had mentioned that before."

12:32, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 1,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. kn:occult fire in sun.

"I've got a terrible sinking feeling they would have."  Kat puts the hand holding her cigar down on the table.  "What I am about to say will probably get me decommissioned and does not leave this room, at least not yet."

"Fire? That's certainly a new one...that's the first time I've heard it. Still, these undead are a new development in themselves, so I suppose anything's possible."

Evans waits for Wildcat to finish.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: As far as you know, the one you fought didn't, and Alouette buried it in full daylight (not that that proves much, as it was already re-dead). There was also the one Gabby dealt with...you have no way of knowing how long ago he fought it, but it couldn't have been too long before you showed up as his campsite, judging by how shook up he was when you got to him, and it was late morning then.]

A roadhouse 10 miles from Blackthorn

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mgpcu8ZLlFc">Some mood music.</a>

Even in the middle of the day, the roadhouse was dark. The owner liked it that way...as did those who wanted to meet there.

That was why the four were gathered there now. One client, three prospective employees.

"So...our target is a Ranger, you say?"

"Yes. She arrived in town last night, and has begun to ask...troubling questions."

"Another lawman. Someone's dirty laundry is beginning to smell quite foul, I think."

"So you won't take the job? Disappointing. You have served the Society well in the past...it would be such a shame if that relationship soured."

"Oh, not a one of us said anything about not taking the job. Rum is just being contrary, as usual. All we mean is that we can't take on all the lawmen in Texas."

"You won't have to. A scapegoat is being prepared. You are to make the job look like the work of the Dust Adders. She already has enemies among them."

"Oooo! I think I sense a change in the winds! Can we take this job, Mcavity? Please?"

"So the fat man is making his play against the good doctor. Yes. Count us in."

"I'm not. Not without an additional incentive."

"Rum Tum Tugger, you're such a contrary beast!"

"Rest assured, sir, that the Society understands your needs. The fee is double your standard rate."

"Make it triple, and you have a deal."

There is a short silence.

"Very well. But we expect results for our money."

"Oh, but we always deliver, don't we?"

"Indeed. Well then. Here is a downpayment. The rest will be in its usual place once the job is finished."

A bag off coin is passed, and the group breaks up. Three shapes slink out the door to their horses, and ride.

"Gentlemen, we have vampires among us."  Kat puffs.  "That Dust Adder was turned recently too, and near the theater, which we need to raid, in broad daylight.  Once we figure out where they're coming from, we play damage control.  Word of this gets out, and Blackthorn is a ghost town."

"Yes, let's also canvas the neighborhood for any recently-arrived London noblemen. Should I place a bulletin in the local paper asking folks for the whereabouts of a suspect named 'Varney?'" Evans scoffs. "I understand your desire to come to some sort of plan of action, but vampires? Are we seriously entertaining that as a serious idea for the cause of our local problems? Besides, how do you get from 'spontaneous human combustion' to Vampires, anyway?"

[[OOC: A historical note...at this time, the penny dreadful series Varney The Vampire is the major source of vampire tropes for anyone who isn't hunting monsters. Dracula hasn't bee written yet. Interestingly, Varney has no aversion to crosses or garlic and is not bothered by daylight, so that hasn't entered the popular perception of vampires yet. Everything Evans says here is based on him having read some Varney the Vampire pamphlets in his mispent youth.

The Agency and Rangers with access to Chapter 13 might have more information on how to deal with vampires...if you can get in touch with them.]]

"Marshal Evans, you are seriously going to ref'rence the undead as being real in one breath and then dismiss vampires in another?  These here are the facts: the suspect was found in an altered condition, similar to other purported suspects, from the last time he was seen in the space of less than 24 hours.  The suspect complained the light done hurt, tried to bite me, and burned to ashes after exposure to the sunlight.  The suspect was drug away from the theater.  I believe it's reasonable to suppose whatever happened to make the suspect this way occurred at the theater, and that there's more where that one came from.  Anyway this is exactly why I didn't want to bring it up, but seeing as I can't immediately resolve this problem on my own, the best I can do is warn the local authority, namely ya'll, so they can deal with it until it can be resolved."

Wildcat took another smoke to let that sink in a little bit.  Her usual somewhat relaxed tone was gone at the moment.  Oh God I'm acting like my sergeant... she realized in sheer terror, but she didn't show it.

"As for the causes of your local problems... Dr. Evans I'll admit you've impressed me a lot since I been here but I think this is something about being a lawman you don't understand because it ain't been burned into you real good.  One part of this job Marshal Evans is toeing the line when I bust in here and tell you to even if you don't like it.  If I say it's vampires, it's vampires, and if I say don't go blabbing about vampires, we don't go blabbing about vampires.  Mr. Mickle-fwate here understands why it's so very clearly."

Wildcat softened her tone a bit before adding more.  She was far more like her father than she'd ever realized.

"And that ain't the only cause of your local problems neither.  I don't know if'n ya'll realize this Marshal, but you may have a legitimacy problem in the minds of your charges.  I've picked up on it a little bit jus' since I been here."

"The existence of one does not necessarily imply the existence of the other. That's a logical fallacy. And aside from the bursting-into-flames-in-the-sun detail, the attack you describe is similar to the other attacks we've dealt with thus far. I certainly agree with you that an examination of the theater is in order, and I certainly feel that keeping the full nature of the issues from the general public is best for all concerned...but I've conducted my own research on these matters, and I don't think for a second any vampires are involved here."

He leans back in his chair. "Now, I've never really been very good at toeing the line, so you'll forgive me if I seem somewhat insubordinate. However, I am a graduate of MIT, the finest institute of the New Science on the Eastern Seaboard. If it weren't for a certain series of unpleasantnesses Back East, I might have secured a position of some authority within the The Distinguished Collegium of Interspacial Physics. So when I say that I do not believe in vampires, I hope you understand that I have some idea of what I am talking about."

He pulls out a strange red box that has dials and widgets and indicators that Wildcat can't even guess at the function of.

"This is an Electrical Aetheric Indicator. I designed it myself to read fluctuations and variances in local aetheric fields. Do you have much grounding in Aetheric Theory? if not, then the most I could probably explain in layman's terms is that this device goes 'ding' when there's an occurrence that someone not well grounded in the New Science might mistake as 'supernatural'. Over the past six months I've recorded several patterns and odd spikes, and I believe I have my own theories as to what, in fact, may be happening around town."

He turns the device on, which begins to hum and ping, and the dial on the indicator waves around.

"Now, recent research into Aetheric Theory has postulated the existence of entities which are normally intangible to those who do not have the senses to detect them, much as there are ranges of light not visible to the naked eye. My current hypothesis is that a few of these aetheric beings have the ability to enter the bodies of the recently departed and animated them through galvanic forces. I do not know for certain where these entities originate from yet, but I suspect if we track down their source, we might have a better understanding of where out problems lie."

"Now, if you say you detected signs that the theater may be involved, I am all for conducting an investigation. However, there is precious little that can be done until we determine how these entities are infiltrating the bodies of the dead and how they may be either trapped and contained or  convinced to move elsewhere. Someone in town or around it has been actively hindering this investigation. I only have had access to one of the bodies of the ambulatory dead, and that is not enough information to lead me to any decent conclusions."

"As for legitimacy issues, trust me, I'm aware of them. I am only an Acting Marshal, voted in to office but not officially sworn in. I have been waiting for the arrival of the circuit judge for over six months to complete that little task, but he has not shown his face here. Until he does, I have only as much authority as the town council allows me, though with a Ranger in town that situation will hopefully now be resolved."

At Evan's explanation of whatever the hell aether is, Wildcat can only say.  "What?"

"Look I ain't gonna argue the point with you what it's called or what it is, whatever it is, it was there.  I know what I seen is real and I'm calling it a vampire.  It would take one vampire to make another vampire, right?  It's real simple.  We raid the theater, search th' place high and low, and haul everybody out into the sun.  Whoever catches on fire is the vampire."  Wildcat offers, as if it's just that simple.

"Either that or someone catches sunbeams in a Mason jar and we carry it around our neck on a rope at night and see who flinches at it."  She suggests humorously.

Robert interjects himself in the long-winded conversation.  "By the way, ma'am, it's Micklethwait.  A tee-aitch, not an eff.  Now, vampires are not, most folks don't burst into flame, so it's definitly something odd.  Makes sense to look at it in daylight.  If it is vampires, well, what else do we need t'know?"

"Do you want to raid the theater now, with just us three, or would you prefer to wait and see if Miss Gangatsu and Mr. Smith can find Mr. Charging Bear? I say we conduct an investigation first. Find out what readings my Aetheric Indicator picks up."

He takes a few more bites of his food. "Let me tell you a bit about the Oriental. It's not just a theater...it's also a dance hall, and the ladies who work there are, shall we say, of negotiable affection. And it's been where the Venderholt Troupe has been performing the last few nights. It's usually empty until late afternoon. The girls and the owner don't live there...the property values in town have fallen to the point where even a soiled dove can afford her pick of homes. The Troupe members stay around town...Miss Marina Vanderholt herself says here in the Grand Bull, or so I'm told..."

Suddenly, an idea strikes him. "Miss Devon, who was that man you were speaking with last night, just before the incident started? Do you know where we might find him?"

"A careful investigation makes sense.  I assume the others would be aware of your encounter?" Robert asks Wildcat.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #93):

"Ah dunno.  Ah don't think nobody seen it, but if'n they were watchin', I wasn't too liable to notice at the time."

"Well, I don't suppose we shall get anything else done here. Let us break for a quick glance around the theater, and see if we can penetrate this mystery. As the Great Detective says, the game is afoot!"

Robert nods, and digs into his lunch.

"Fair 'nough."  Kat seems content enough at this resolution.

With lunch done, our heroes travel out to the Oriental Theater.

The "Theater" is really just a dance-hall with delusions of standing. It's a narrow two-story structure which squats down on the edge of the block. The smell of cheap whiskey curls up from the rear as the trio (or quartet, if Katy came along) explore.

Wildcat shows Evans and Robert the tracks she found, explaining what they mean to the two non-trackers.

Evans pulls out his device, which makes several blips and pings. He pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil, jotting down some of his readings. "Peculiar..." he mumbles to himself, but he doesn't elaborate. Instead, he knocks on the door.

A small peephole in the door slides open and a pair of jaundiced eyes stare out at them. "I'm sorry. We are closed."

"Ah, but you see, my friend, we are conducting an investigation into possible criminal acts that may have taken place in this very vicinity. In order to place your establishment beyond suspicion, I must ask that we be allowed inside to have a look around."

"Might I see your warrant first, then? If you do not produce one, then may I ask that you kindly fuck the hell off? I know my rights under the law, sir."

[[OOC: Break out the dice! You'll need to succeed on a Test of Wills against the doorkeeper in order to get him to open up, and any good arguments may net you a bonus on your roll.]]

---

From the shadows nearby, a few sinister shapes watched the trio (or quartet) of lawmen.

"Ooooh! Even odds. I hate even odds!" one of them squeaks.

"Don't we all, Jenny. Don't we all."

"Well, I enjoy a fair fight. Keeps me on my toes."

"You would say that, Rum. What are we going to do now, Mcavity? I don't fancy a long wait."

The figures were silent for a moment.

"I have an idea..."

[[OOC: If you want to try and spot these skulking figures, you're going to need to make a Notice check, opposed by their Stealth. They're about a block away.]]

Wildcat elects to let Mr. Mickle-fwate try his hand at this.  Kat's style would be to borrow a scattergun, breach the lock, and kick the door in.

In the meantime she's apparently absorbed in a rather interesting knot in the wooden face of the theater.

10:30, Today: Wildcat Hawkins is both deaf and blind and rolled 1,1 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1.

"A warrent you say?  And how should we do that, when the judge is only here once a fortnight, if that?  A warrent is mearily preemptive permission by a judge that search is justified.  The ranger found things of a quite disturbing nature, rascals might be hiding within, ready to do who knowns what mischief to the innocent people who work within your fine establishment.  Or to your customers.  If we are unable to establish that your fine establishment is free and clear of wrongdoorers, I have little doubt that you will not be able to open your doors to any customers."

Robert was about to go on, but he was distracted by something about a block away

09:46, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 7,6 using d8+4,d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2. persuastion.
09:46, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 10,10 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+4)10,(6+4)10. notice.

Robert also tries to think of any legal precedents.  The letter of the law wasn't his stong suit, that was his glib tounge, but he thinks he remembers a case about public safety.

13:08, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 7,2 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+3)7,2. kn: law - avoiding warrents.

"How you acquire such things isn't my problem, only that you must have them before, not after, you search. It's the little things that make all the difference." The man says. However, Robert's mention of danger to potential customers has him thinking. "Well, far be it for me to present a danger to my customers. Perhaps you will explain to me, specifically, what it is that you are searching for, and where you plan to search for it?"

OOC: assuming the 7 gives me this

"That would compromise our investigation.  However, the threat both to your patrons, and the citizens of this town necessitates this search, and waiting for the judge, he is already overdue, presents to great a risk.  You must step aside, or be under arrest for presenting a danger to the public."

Robert's reasoning with the unseen doorman jogged Kat's memory.  She wasn't much for the formal parts of the law, but she could think on her feet.  It might be a pretty hard sell even for Mr. Mickle-fwate to talk his way in here, but suppose the tables could be turned.  Suppose this guy had to convince Mr. Mickle-fwate to restrain a gun happy ranger.

"Ya know Mr. Mickfle-fwate, we do have powerful good reason to believe the suspect in last night's shooting, who assaulted an officer of the law, might have attempted to enter this here buildin', and he's technically unaccounted for ever since.  I know he was right here.  I reckon he went inside.

"My years of law enforcement experience tell me that more likely than not, our suspect from last night's shootin' is inside there with a gun and he done kidnapped every 'un inside there, and this feller is sayin' these things under duress.

"A standard security sweep would of course verify that is or is not th' case, otherwise I'm going to have to use hostage protocols and smoke 'im out.  Dad burn shame too, last time I did one of these in a theater they never did get the blast marks scrubbed off the walls.  Of course we'll have to detain everybody and take statements.

"Course that might not be the case, could be aiding and abetting..."

As Robert talks to the doorman, he notices three figures in the shadows of an alleyway down the block. They seem to be doing their best to keep out of sight, and they eventually pull away and vanish.

The doorman seems ready to argue the point, but Wildcat's argument seems to have convinced him. "Well, we don't want to get to hasty, here...a standard security sweep is fine, Madam." The man says. he closes the peephole, then cautiously opens the back door. "Come on in." he says.

Transitioning the Peacemaker to low ready, Wildcat enters assertively, carefully maneuvering through the building to maintain the presense of searching for a possible fugitive.

She stiffens her body language and squints a bit to look as gung ho as possible hoping to make the other two look reasonable in comparison.  After a quick sweep of the immediate area just inside the door, she orders the doorman:

"Maintain your position sir, this area is secure."

She has another idea, but the others actually seem better at kicking up dust storms of information.  For now it's pretense and examination only.

Robert moves in and looks around, then asks evans, "you have your gizmo ready to go?"

"Indeed." Evans nods, raising the blipping, whirring box and following behind.

"Er...what is that thing?" the doorman says nervously.

"This, sir, is my handy-dandy Fugitive Detection Device, patent-pending. It tracks down trails of all sorts, reading the air for minute traces of blood, sweat, and the biochemical changes that take place in a person when they tell lies. It is perfectly safe!...well, there was the incident with the cat, but I'm sure that was just a fluke." Evans gives him a deranged grin that has the doorman looking towards the open door as if looking for an escape route.

"Well! er...interesting! I'll, er, just stay out of your way then." The doorman says, edging away from the trio.

"Excellent! I wouldn't want any contamination of my readings...might make all sorts of mistakes and false positives that would take months in court to untangle."

"Yes...I'll let you get to work, then." The doorman swallows, and steps outside.

Once the man is out of earshot, Evans grins. "Well, that should buy us some peace and quiet. I've got a faint reading...it seems to be coming from all over the backstage area. Nothing very strong yet, but I suggest you keep a weather eye out. If something decides to jump us I'm not certain I'd get more than a few moment's warning. Incidentally, did anyone else get the impression our fat friend there had something to hide?"

Robert grunts in agreement.  "It's not been my experience that townsfolk know much about the finer points of the law."

"You think so Marshal?"  Wildcat asks Evans incredulously.

Evans raises an eyebrow at Wildcat. "Ah, the failures of witty repartee. Tell me, Miss Hawkins, are Rangers required to have their sense of irony and humor surgically removed, or is having a rod planted up the rear considered a perk of the job? On second thought, don't answer that. What I mean is, that fellow was so obviously trying to hide something that it makes me suspect we might be walking into a trap."

"just so you know" Robert lowers his voice. "While we were jawing with the doorkeeper, I saw three fellas in an alley down the block.  They seemed a little to interested in us.  So let's just keep our eyes open"  Robert draws his pistol, checks the load, and heads back stage

Kat just smiles at Dr. Evans, a rather inviting smile actually, and folds back her duster so her gunbelt is easier to access.  Idly drawing her knuckle duster from the left pocket, she spins it around on her pinky a couple of times.

"Yer an awful smart feller Marshal, yer instincts are mighty good.  But you ain't the first lawman to walk into a death trap and probably won't be the last.  Now do you understand why my first inclination was to just raid the place?  For the record I'm still in favor of rounding everyone up in here and marching them outside in the sunshine fer a minnit.

"Anyway this'll be my second one today.  Good thing I'm feelin' mighty kedge this afternoon."

"Oh, wonderful." Evans mutters at Robert's mention of potential ambushers. "Well, we seem to have walked ourselves into a fine mess...might as well see how deep this rabbit hole goes."

"I've been reading something...strange. There's a pattern I'm detecting which leaps out at me, but it doesn't share the characteristics of the readings I got from the dead gentleman with the biblical fixation, nor does it match the lingering traces I picked up when I and Mr. Smith went to examine his incident. It's different from the other background traces I've picked up, as well. A whole new pattern, in a town already teaming with alarming patterns. Thankfully, these traces are faint...I would estimate them to be no less than eight hours old. However, that's just in this area here, the backstage. I'll warn you if the readings get stronger as we search."

[[OOC: please provide me with your plan for searching the theater, as that will let me know what roll you'll need to make. I'll try to scare up a floorplan and post it on the Map thread later tonight.]]

OOC: I assume we are in the main theater area?  big open room with a stage at one end, a bar, lots of chairs and tables?  Are their balconies?  Steps to the stage?  An obvious way from here of getting backstage?  I assume'd head backstage, since that's where the readings are.

OOC: I would suggest a methodical room to room sweep, with someone covering the doorways/passageways/hallways into the current area under consideration at all times.  If there's more than two access points to the area under consideration, two people watch and cover the portals, the third searches.  So if someone inside the building does try something, at least we'll perhaps see it.  You know, kind of like how real police would do it. XD

I would actually suggest we don't necessarily jump right into the backstage first, rather that we proceed through the building in such a way that hopefully we can verify the areas we have already gone through are "clear" or "secure".  If this happens to take us backstage immediately though that's fine too.

That someone who should probably be covering the entrances and choke points is likely Wildcat, since I'm guessing Robert and Dr. Evans can inspect and investigate as well or better than I can.  I don't have a machine that goes *ping* for one thing.

OOC: I'm assuming that there aren't that many rooms other than the main room, maybe a kitchen, and rest are backstage or maybe upstairs.

OOC:  Sweet, got a map.

Suggestion: Start at point <E>.  Notice that's a choke point, anyone wanting to access the bar area there would have to cross it.

Wildcat covers the choke point, Evans uses his gizmo, Robert talks to anybody we find in there.  I can specify or draw a picture later if that doesn't make sense.

I suggest we then go clockwise, up and then over, in a big circle taking advantage of the natural chokepoints in the building, and hit the big ball room last, with everyone coming in a different entrace when we do that.

[[OOC: Map posted. Since Wildcat's trail lead to the back door, that's where you are right now...you're in the back door area (the shaded-out area near point < I > ). There's three doors here...one leading to the backstage area, one leading to the ball room, and one leading to the sitting room. Do you want to roll Notice and or Tracking for each room you move through?]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:24, Fri 01 Oct 2010.

OOC: Ah, gotcha.  Same suggestion, but flip it around.  Since the backstage door is there though why not do that one first as suggested?

This raises a complication though, I think I'm the only one here who has Tracking.  Might have to scrap my whole idea and just have everyone look.

OOC: you roll tracking the rest of us roll notice.  backstage is on the left, I assume?

Evans rests his free hand on the door to the backstage area, and carefully opens it. The door creaks and he peers into the darkness beyond.

"It's quite dark in here for being the middle of the day" he observes as he moves to light a wall sconce with a match. The guttering flame hardly has much of an effect on the gloom.

The backstage is long and narrow, with benches, racks of costumes, and various stage props lining the walls.

"Wonderful. This will be a joy to search. Robert, do you have some extra pistol rounds to spare? I fear that my only armament is that miscreant Frost's gun, and it only has two bullets remaining."

[[OOC: That is correct. Evans opens the door and starts the sweep. However, he's really not going to be all that useful for this, since he has to default on Notice checks.

The Amazing Evans rolled 00 using d4-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 2,2. Notice. ugh.

Luckily, his Detect Arcana doesn't require Notice checks to make it work, just Mad Science, and he's already activated it.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:55, Sat 02 Oct 2010.

OOC: To save time later.

12:16, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,5. first tracking roll.

"Is it a .45?" Robert asks as he scans the room.  He'll pull ten rounds out of his belt for Evan's if needed

12:40, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 11,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+5)11,2. notice.

Evans nods. He takes the rounds and loads his gun while the pair search.

Wildcat notices that someone has taken the time to clean the floor here recently. That's a bit suspicious, but if there was any evidence to be had, it's been destroyed.

Robert notices the cleaning, as well. But the aid of the light and his own keen senses allow him to pick out some spattering of blood that the cleaner missed. The blood is dried, but not particularly old.

As they search, though, the trio hear music from the ballroom, as well as some muffled voices.

"It seems this theater is not quite as empty as we were led to believe." Evans mutters.

"Textbook strategery would sugges' we done synchr'nize watches and enter from catty corner sides, but there's no tellin' what else might be here or who we might alert galloping through the rest of the building."

Wildcat raises her Peacemaker, already in hand.

"Either way, I am awful fond of taking people by surprise."

"I doubt any attacks would want musical accompanyment." Robert points out.  "It might be just the performers getting rehearsing.  Let's find out."  He moves to the door to return to the ballroom

"Only if they lack style sir."  Wildcat adds under her breathe.  "Besides, one of us needs to act like we're searching for a fugitive...."

The door creaks open. The ballroom is voluminous, opening to the second floor. The room is lit by the soft glow of candles in the chandeliers, which is good because there aren't any windows in the ballroom.

The ballroom has a dozen tables spread out across it, one with a roulette wheel and a faro board setup. The smell of stale whiskey lingers in the wood.

On stage five women in scandalously revealing clothes practice a dance routine. Three of them take turns dancing and whirling, while one plinks out a tune on the piano. The last one plays a violin.

She is beyond lovely. Her raven-colored tresses fall beguilingly across her heart-shaped face, a surprised, innocent expression crossing over her full, pouting lips, small, shapely nose, and almond-shaped brown eyes. In her hands the violin sings a seductive trill that entices and excites the passions of the lawmen.

The girls don't seem to have noticed their audience yet.

"A dangerous group of desperadoes, indeed." Robert mutters.  "That reminds me, if there is supposed to be a, a vampire here, what sort of evidence would that leave behind?"

"Ah, but didn't you know that a lady may be the most dangerous of beasts?" Evans grins, chuckling a bit at Robert's sarcasm.

"I'm not rightly sure, but it did try to bite me."  She answers Robert.

Wildcat just looks mildly disgusted, and whether it's at Mr. Mickle-fwate and Dr. Evans or at the half dressed harlots on stage is entirely justifiable to speculate on.  While fairly liberated herself, Katrina Hawkins just can't escape the Methodist sensibilities her mother pounded into her sometimes.

"I oughtta knock some of yer teeth out you right now and prove your point."  Wildcat tells Marshal Evans (is she joking?) before proclaiming herself over the music.  She lowers the Peacemaker but doesn't holster it.  "Texas Ranger!  I need everyone to stay calm and stay put.  Deputy Mickle-fwate is going to be asking you some questions."

Robert gives Wildcat a sour look, muttering, "Excuse me, have you seen a vampire?" before holstering his pistol and striding forward with a friendly smile.

OOC: want to give them a chance to react before starting with questions.

There's a bit of discreet girlish shrieking as Wildact bursts into the room. Evans follows after her, holding his strange device out but not paying that much attention to it.

The raven-haired woman with the violin motions to her companions to calm down. "Why, whatever could be the matter, Miss?" she asks Wildcat in a Southern drawl that the Ranger can't quite place, her eyes wide. She steps to the edge of the stage and looks down, granting Robert and Evans a generous view of her ample cleavage.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:53, Wed 06 Oct 2010.

Robert appreciates the view.  He may be old, but he ain't dead.

"Am sure you ladies heard, or at least heard about, the shooting last night.  One of them rascals got away, and we're not sure where he's hiding.  So we are checking all the buildings in the area.  He might be hiding in a cubby hole somewhere, possibly with a friend.  Have any of you heard or seen anything unusual in the building, 'specially in out of the way places?"

There's a round of giggling from the girls at Robert's question.

"Why, I'm sure we're heard and seen all sorts of things you might consider 'unusual,' Deputy." The raven-haired woman says. "Especially in out of the way cubby holes. Of course, there's them that like their privacy, and a lady never kisses and tells. So if you'll be a mite more specific in what you're asking about, we'd be much obliged."

Wildcat shakes her head at the interaction between Robert and the performers, makes an effort to actually search this massive space.  She holsters her weapon and takes her hat off and fans herself with it momentarily.

21:25, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,5. tracking roll in case it's needed.

This room, too, has been recently cleaned, though whether to cover up anything sinister or simply out of routine maintenance Wildcat can't tell.

As she pokes about, Evans makes a few idle looks at his device, blinks, frowns, then adjusts a few dials. His frown deepens, and he casually makes his way over to her.

"Miss Hawkins," he says in a whisper, "I don't mean to alarm you...but my device has stopped giving me readings."

"Which means?"  Wildcat whispers to Dr. Evans.  "Ya gotta explain these things to folks without eastern diplomas Marshal."

"Someone or something is blocking the signal." He says. "This sort of thing doesn't occur naturally. When I've seen this reading in the past, it's meant someone has something to hide."

"Then I would kindly suggest we remove each and every one of these folks from the crime scene and have them wait outside the theater while we finish our investigation."  Wildcat just grins at Marshal Evans.

"Somehow, I doubt it will be as simple as that..." Evans mutters.

"And neither does a gentleman" Robert replies, enjoying this harmless flirtation. "Unusual, well, hmm, anyone who kept to themselves during the day, avoided strangers, noises, maybe in the basement, where you wouldn't think to find someone.  Does his place have a basement?"

"Well, I don't rightly know...we're a traveling troupe, just in town for the week." The raven haired girl titters. "But now that you mention it...I think I might have have run into such a person. And, if you like, I can give you the grand tour. We can search for the dark, lonely basement...together. What do you say?" She holds out a hand for Robert to take so she can step down off the stage.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: OOC: Please make a Spirit Check. This is an opposed roll.]

12:11, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 4,10 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,(6+4)10. spirit.
Unless my high roll indicates I sense danger, I'll take her hand and go searching.  With wildcat and evans if they are done whispering to each other

Wildcat snorts slightly as she rests her hand in a pocket of her duster.  The duster's pocket which should hide the fact she's slipping on another kind of duster.

Wildcat's slipping her hand into her brass knuckles, in case that's not clear.

I'm through with the overtures to Evans.  Just want to see what kind of horrible trouble you can get us into. XD

Marina slides off the stage and into Robert's arms briefly, before righting herself and looking to her fellow girls.

"Carmilla, Darla, please be dears and make our other guests at home." she says as she leads Robert out of the ballroom.

Two of the girls bounce down and cross the ballroom until they are circling Wildcat and Evans.

"What would be your pleasure?" one of them asks, nodding towards the bar but licking her lips suggestively at the same time.

[[OOC: Marina is leading Robert towards the rooms in Area e.]]

The raven-haired girl leads Robert to a darkened stairwell, out of earshot from the others. "Tell me, my charming fellow," she says, cradling an arm around him and whispering in his ear, "what is it you're really searching for?"

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Nope. }:D You have actually failed, since she was using her Charm power on you and spent a red chip for a bonus.

Marina Vanderholt rolled 7,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,2. Charming!

Marina Vanderholt rolled 16 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+4)16. red chip.

Total of 23.

You now get to be her slave...mmm]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:40, Thu 07 Oct 2010.

"Return to your position ma'am, this is a large room and this is an ongoing investigation."  Wildcat says dryly.

"Which position would you like me to resume, ma'am?" The girl giggles. "I know so many."

Meanwhile the other has curled around Evans, which has made his face turn a bit red.

"Oooh, I don't want to go back there...I'm so comfortable here..." she coos.

"Er...I think you ought to do what the Ranger says...ongoing investigation and all..." Evans babbles. he's not exactly pushing her away, though.

Wildcat is not amused.

OOC: Were it not for Guts rolls killing me, I'd resolve to buy Intimidate...

"Har har.  I don't care if you go sit back in that chair right there or go heels to Jesus, but ya'll need to get back on the stage, both of ya'll."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #150):

"Oooh! And what will you do if I don't? Lock me in manacles? Chain me up and strip search me?" The girl says with obvious relish. She sashays closer to Wildcat. "Oh please, miss Ranger, punish me. I've been a naughty girl."

"Oh Carmilla, you're incorrigible!" the one wrapped around Evans titters. "Don't mind her, miss Ranger. Our dear Carmilla can be just a little queer, but rest assured she's just having a gay old time!"

"Right!" Evans says, slipping out of the girl's arms. He's blushing furiously now. "I believe I am in need of some fresh air, and I think Miss Hawkins is, too. Come!" He tugs on Wildcat's arm, gently trying to pull her towards the back door.

[[OOC: I apologize for my horrible, horrible misuse of words which have changed their meaning over the centuries yet are used to fit both modern and old meanings...I'm a bad person.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:37, Fri 08 Oct 2010.

OOC:  Actually I couldn't stop laughing.

"Miss the law does not 'chain people up', but restraints are used when neces'ry.  And saying her behavior is queer is putting it mildly."  Kat remarks, unsure what to make of all this.  She's never had a suspect make requests like that before.  What the hell was all that about?

Wildcat seems indifferent to all the actual cajoling, she's certainly heard worse things, but the novelty of it is getting to her.  There's something base and brazen about it that puts her off. The thought that they're like this all the time crosses her mind, and her disgust for this spectacle becomes evident.

"Stay put."  She follows Evans, hoping he's on to something he needs to share with her and not just so easily buffaloed.

Since I'm out of the room...
PM:
[Private to GM: I assume I have very little free will?

I would like to answer, "The ranger thinks there's a dangerous killer hiding out here, but don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

I would want to avoid mentioning the vampire, to avoid scaring her needlessly, if there isn't one.  Considering her roll, I might not be able to avoid mentioning it
]

PM

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: ((OOC: Yes, you do have a bit of free will, but if she pushes you, you are likely to let everything slip.))

"A vicious killer who hides from the day in basements and keeps to himself? Oh my!" she breathes into his ear as she leads him down the dark stairwell. "What makes you think such a fiend is hiding here? And what will you do if you catch him?" she whispers as her lips brush his neck.]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #152): [[OOC: Well, good. Glad to add some sexy humor to this...I think Wildcat needs to prepare for disappointment, though...]]

Evans takes a few moments to breathe. "Well. This is certainly...a delicate matter. I'm...feeling a bit faint. It's like those girls just muddle my thoughts whenever they're near. Ha ha! I've been around lovely ladies before but haven't been this flustered since I was a young lad chasing skirts at school." he takes a few more deep breaths. "You...don't seem to be taken in by their charms. Perhaps, ah, you had better direct the investigation from her, er, here on in...I think there's more to their wiles than simple feminine mystique."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:41, Fri 08 Oct 2010.

PM:
[Private to GM:
These performing gals sure are friendly. Robert thinks to himself, trying to stay focused.
"Well, miss, I'd have to try to arrest him, but the impression I get is that he's not likely to come along quietly"  He stops in the middle of the stairs.  "Now miss, why don't you go back up where it's safe, and let me find this rascal?"
]

Wildcat first opens her mouth to tell Evans to keep it in his pants, but bites her tongue, remembering how his machine went off.

Kat let her imagination wander for a moment.  A traveling performing group, all female, who constantly flirt.  Most law dogs were boy dogs.  It was like a street hustler running a shell game, you were so busy watching the show you missed what was actually going on.

"Maybe you are onto somethin' Marshal.  Distractions are great when you don't want somebody to notice somethin'.  It might be better if'n you check on yer deputy, but whatever you do keep that six gun handy.  I'm heading back in there to continue searching that room if'n yer all right."

Wildcat had never really gotten terribly concerned, as some had, that she was a "Lady Deputy" or a "Lady Ranger".  In her mind you either had the job or you didn't.  What you had or didn't have where the straddle met the saddle was irrelevant.  She noted however this was one time where her personal biology was possibly working to her advantage.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #156):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: "Why, I couldn't leave you now, sugar. What is something happened to you, alone in the dark? What would people think?" She said. "You do have others who know where you've gone, don't you? It's not just you three here, is it?"]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #157):

As Wildcat ventures back into the room, the four girls wave at her. The "queer" one, Carmilla, slides up to her.

"What is it you're looking for, Miss Ranger? Perhaps I can help you find it!" She offers, brushing dark curls out of her face.

PM:
[Private to GM:
"Oh, don't worry about me.  I might be old, but I can take care of my self.  But you, why, you're not like that Ranger, you head on up where's it's save." Robert replies, evading her question
Gals got a point.  We find this vampire and things go south, who'd know we were here? robert thinks

]

In reply to Sexy Saloon Gals (msg #159):

"Miss, the best and only thing you can do is keep out of the way.  If your safety is not maintained I'm not doing my job."  Wildcat says as nicely as possible.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #160):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: "Aw, now, don't patronize me, sugar." The woman pouts fetchingly. "I may not be a Ranger, but I have a few surprises for anyone who mistakes me for some delicate flower. And if there's a killer hiding out here like you say, well, I don't think anywhere would be safe!"

She heads up the stairs, grabs a lantern from the wall, and starts heading down the stairs past Robert. "Coming?" She asks him with a grin.]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #161):

The girl pouts, but backs away, leaving Wildcat alone to do her job.

[[OOC: So...what now? How do you plan to continue your investigation?]]

Wildcat shakes her head, not sure what's gotten into that one.

Well for starters, I'm going back to where I saw there'd been a clean up.  I want to figure out what they were cleaning up...

PM:
[Private to GM:
A perfect woman! Robert thinks to himself.  not afraid of danger, easy on the eyes, what a team we'd make... Robert makes a not to himself to see if he could recruit her.

Drawing his pistol, "Best let me go first, miss, unless you are very good, you can't be concealing a pistol anywhere..."
]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #164):

[[OOC: Ok, then. Roll me Notice and/or Tracking. Remember that you can spend Chips to get past the penalty you're taking for the clean-up.]]

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #165):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: The basement of the theater is dark and earthy. Boxes and crates of various sizes loom, while casks of not-quite-high-quality ale sit around waiting to be tapped.

The only light present is the lantern the woman (Robert never did get her name) is holding.

((OOC: Go ahead and roll a Notice check for me.))]

PM
[Private to GM: "Could you shine that over here, miss.. may I have your name, if you don't mind?" Robert asks


14:47, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 1,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. notice.

]

In reply to The Stray (msg #166):

17:08, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 2,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5. tracking.

I assume that since most penalties are even, that doesn't hull it.  Sacrficed a red:

17:09, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 2 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2. bonus die.

Total is now 7

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #169):

Looking deeper at the cleaned area, Wildcat finds that, at least in this area, there's nothing sinister apparent. There's a lingering smell of spilled whiskey in the wood. It looks like whatever happened, happened back in the wardrobe area, and this was just some day-to-day maintenance. If there's any more to be learned, it will have to come from pointed questions directed at the residents. Joy.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #168):

Some mood music.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: "Marina. Marina Vanderholt, owner of the Traveling Vanderholt Troupe." She says as she brings the lantern closer. "And yours?"

Robert notices a faintly nasty smell, like meat that's gone bad, coming from a large crate near the far wall...]

In reply to The Stray (msg #170):

Wildcat makes her way back there, resolving to at least try to question whoever is there, but unexcited at the prospect.

As Wildcat crosses the room to question the girls, she sees Evans, still over by the back door, waving at her to get her attention.

In reply to Marina Vanderholt (msg #171):

PM
[Private to GM: Gripping his cane in his left hand, and his pistol in his right, he moves closer to the crate, answering Marina somewhat absentmindedly, "I'm Robert Micklethwait, attorney-at-law.  Excuse me, I might have found something."  Robert walks closer to the crate and pokes it with his cane.

OOC: I'll try to flip off the lid if it's loose.

]

PM

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: The lid of the crate slides off easily, revealing a human figure stretched out within, hands crossed over its chest. Dressed in a fine suit, the corpse's skin has been powdered and the cheeks marked with rouge, as if it had been prepared for a burial.

The scent of rot grow thicker in the room. There's a gasp of shock from Robert's companion. And Robert himself feels a thrill of recognition creeping up his spine...because the face of the corpse is that of His Honor Melvin Blume, circuit judge of Victoria and Jackson counties.

((OOC: Roll Guts for Fear/Nausea, please. Remember the -3 penalty for the Fear Level but +1 for your Grit))]

PM
[Private to GM:
Robert is no stranger to rotting corpses, he might not have seen much battle in the war, but he saw the aftermath more times than he cared to recall.

"you'd best stay back, miss.  He's dead, he can't hurt anybody, but it's not a sight for young lady."  Raising his voice, he calls out, "Evans!  Wildcat!  Got something t'see down here."

OOC: I almost put the above in public, but I figured the others might be a post or two behind, and they might need to roll notice to hear me.  Or Marina's going to try to eat me first.

13:35, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 9,-1 using d6-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of (6+5)11,1. guts.
]

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #173):

Wildcat, intrigued, makes her way over to him.

"You're a might unpredictable here lately Marshal."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #177):

"It's the weather that's unpredictable." Evans mutters, and points out the door. Though it's brighter outside compared to the lamp-lit interior of the theater, it has noticeably darkened. "Clouds are rolling in, covering up the sun. I have no idea if your 'vampires' are going to spontaneously ignite while the sun is behind a storm, and that's exactly what's coming over the horizon. We have to move fast."

Suddenly, there's a shout from the other end of the hall.

"Evans!  Wildcat!  Got something t'see down here."

Then, a few seconds later, there's a bloodcurdling scream...

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #176):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: As Robert shouts, the corpse stirs. It opens its burning red eyes and glares at the attorney, then begins to speak.

"Why, how very rude of you, Mr. Micklethwait. Can't you see I'm trying to rest?"

Suddenly the room is plunged into pitch darkness as Marina blows the lantern out, and lets out a bloodcurdling shriek...

((OOC: Make me another Guts check, this time for horror. -3 from the fear level, -1 from the bizarre situation, + your grit))]

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #178):

Wildcat presents her Peacemaker and moves down the hall toward the scream without hesitation.

As Wildcat runs towards the screaming, so do the girls. Since they are closer a pair of them stop in front of the doorway, while a couple hop off the stage just as Wildcat rushes by.

[[OOC: I'm going to move things into combat rounds just to make things simple from here on out.]]

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Robert, make a reaction post with the results of your Guts check. Don't post any actions yet.]

---

Initiative for the first round:
Marina Vanderholt:BJ!
Evans:AS
Wildcat Hawkins:AC
Dance Hall Girls:JD
Robert Micklethwait:7H
The Judge:5D

PM
[Private to GM:

Robert had seen things in the battle of Washington, and had heard stories of dead man still moving, but this is the first time he'd seen it.

Can I play a card when it's not my turn?

10:21, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 2,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5. guts without mods.
5, +1 grit, -3 fear, -1 bizzare = 2

10:22, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 2 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2. red.
4, whew, just made it

]

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #182):
[Private to Robert Micklethwait:

In the darkness, Marina's velvet voice slithers into Robert's ear. "Now, whatever happens, all you will remember is that I dropped the lantern, it went out, and then I screamed. Remember that I am above suspicion, sugar. And play nice, you two..."

Then she vanishes back up the stairs.

((OOC: I'm going to say no, you can't play cards when it's not your turn. She's planting a magic suggestion in Robert, muddling what he remembers later.))]

Out of the hall comes the raven-haired girl. She rushes up to Wildcat, babbling, "Oh god! it's horrible! It's some kind of dead thing walking! You have to stop it!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:45, Tue 12 Oct 2010.

PM
[Private to GM:

OOC: so, do I roll spirit to resist her suggestion, or is that kind of built into the Charm effect?

]

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #184):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: OOC: It's built into the charm effect. Unless she order you to attack friends or do something overtly suicidal, you don't get a roll to resist unless she stops maintaining the power.]

PM
[Private to GM:

OOC: gotcha.  My initial thought was that I'd blindly shoot the coffin and skeedadle, but does the "play nice you two" mean I can't do that?  Is it "overtly suicidal" to stay in the dark with the judge?

]

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #186):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: Shooting blindly and skedaddling is perfectly fine...her last comment wasn't intended as a command.]

"Get out of here!  Tell the others to evacuate!"  Wildcat orders and looks around.  For a chair, a stool anything made of wood she could conceivably break quickly...

[[OOC: There are tables and chairs all throughout the room...they just aren't pictured on the map. Make a Strength check to break one.]]

"Get going, girls!" Marina calls to the others. The saloon girls all start shrieking and running for the backstage area while Evans runs up behind Wildcat, drawing his Peacemaker in the process.

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: ((OOC: Robert, you're up. It's a -4 penalty to hit anything in the cellar, and you'll have to make an Agility check to get up the stairs without tripping and falling prone.))]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:37, Tue 12 Oct 2010.

Robert mutters a curse as the lantern drops and he hears Marina fleeing up the stairs.  Still, such a delicate flower couldn't be expected to stand up to ... this.  He fires two quick shots where he remembers the judge being, and heads back up to the stairs, hoping he won't trip on spilled oil.

[Private to GM: something to ponder if Robert returns here with a light, would he notice no spilled oil and no borken glass?  ]

OOC:

12:52, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 1,-2 using d8-3,d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1. double tap the darkness.
12:52, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 6,5 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5. agility .
and spend a blue for Last Stand

4S - Last Stand“Stand together now!”
Spend a blue chip. Your hero and any adjacent allies gain +2 Parry and Toughness. Allies who move into contact after the card is played gain the bonus as well. The effect ends when a Joker is dealt.

OOC:  Change of tactics.  I need the leg to break off at an angle so it has a sharp point, so instead I opted to slice through it with my handy Bowie knife.

I believe an inanimate object has a Parry of 2.  I think you apply the wild die to the Strength die and not the knife's damage die but that doesn't sound right.  I don't have a book handy or I'd check it.

15:02, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,5. attack!  the chair... Attack the chair?.

15:05, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. damage the chair, Strength.

15:06, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 4 using 1d4+1, rerolling max with rolls of 3. damage the chair, knife.

So if I'm right it should be 9 damage, if I'm wrong it will be 4 damage plus the result of a Wild Die because the Strength Die would be 1.

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #190):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: ((OOC: He might, but he also might not make anything of it, as it's possible that it didn't break when it fell, just extinguished. It might raise questions, but not on it's own.))]

Robert's shots go wild as he stumbles up out of the darkness. He makes it about as far as the doorway into the ballroom when the corpse reaches him.

"You know, it's funny." The former judge laughs as it grabs at him, baring long fangs in the process. "I used to think of you as the blood-sucking leech! My, how the tables have turned!"

He bites at Robert, but the wily attorney is able to slip out of his grasp before the teeth sink in.

[[OOC: The judge makes a Touch roll against Robert to bite him, but rolls a 4 and misses.

I'm going to need initiatives from each of you for the next round...Wildcat can break a chair on her current turn]]

---

Next Round:
Robert: needs to draw
Judge: King of Diamonds
Evans: Queen of Clubs
Marina: 9 of Diamonds
Saloon Girls: 6 Spades
Wildcat: 2 of Clubs
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:31, Tue 12 Oct 2010.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #191):

[[OOC: Just doing it FFF here. The strength roll is all you need, no matter what method you choose, so that's a success, no damage roll needed.

Just for future reference, you don't apply the Wild Die to any part of a damage roll. Damage is a derived stat, not a trait test.]]

In reply to The Stray (msg #193):

I knew that. XD  My brain is fried from too much accounting.

15:23, Today: Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: 2C using the Deadlands system. initiative.

Winner winner chicken dinner.

Fending off the Judge's attack, Robert level's his pistol and sends two shots at his monstrous foe.  Inside, part of his mind is screaming in fear, but a good lawyer keeps a calm face even when losing a case, and from somewhere a joke bubbles up in his mind.
"Why judge, that sounds like a conflict of interest.  You should recuse y'self."


OOC: I'm really glad that my parry is an 8 right now.
13:27, Today: Robert Micklethwait drew the single card: AC using a deck of 54 cards. card.
since I go before the judge, I'll take my turn

13:29, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 4,2 using d8+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1. double tap.
13:29, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 8 using 2d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 3,3. damage.
8 damage.

13:30, Today: Robert Micklethwait drew the single card: 3D using a deck of 54 cards. next round init.
blech

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #195):

[[OOC: since you're in Melee with him, you have to hit his Parry to hurt him. his Parry is 5, so sadly the shots do nothing.]]

The corpse grabs Robert's gun hand and jerks it upward, sending Robert's shots into the rafters.

"You are out of order, sir! I hold you in contempt!" He says as he tries to bite again, but Robert again manages to twist out of the way before the teeth sink in.

[[OOC: I'm groaning at our horrible, horrible court puns...

The Judge tries to bite you again. It's a touch attack. He rolls 6...enough to hit Robert normally, but not enough with the Last Stand active.]]

---

"Robert!" Evans shouts, leveling his pistol at the pair. "get out of the way so I can get a clear shot!"

[[OOC: Evans takes an Aim action for a +2 bonus to hit next round.]]

---

meanwhile, the saloon girls vanish into the backroom. Marina pauses, watching the group battle.

[[OOC: The Saloon girls and Marina take their turns moving.]]

---

Wildcat's up next

Next Round:
Wildcat: Hasn't drawn yet
Evans: KD
Marina: JH
Saloon Girls: 4S
Judge: 3H
Robert: 3D

On her turn (last round) Wildcat breaks the chair and continues running down the hall, knife and improvised stake still in hand.

I'm pretended Wildcat used the knife for narrative flavor.

15:57, Today: Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: AS using the Deadlands system. 

[[OOC: That puts you first. I'm assuming by "hall" you mean that little cluster of doors near the bar in Area E? That would allow you to to move into melee with The Judge.]]

Correct... hard to give it a proper name.

First question, does he look anything like the hombre from the abandoned house?  Not as in facial features or such, but vampirish?

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #199):

[[OOC: Well, he's got the red eyes and the long teeth, so in that regard, yes. He outweighs the other guy by a good seventy pounds, and is a little more "ripe" smelling, and then there's the whiteface makeup with the rouge on his cheeks, which is just freaking odd...it's like he was made up for an open-casket funeral.]]

Wildcat, for better or worse, lunges toward the weirdo with the improvised stake.

Sorry I am being difficult but I need a Marshal call on this one.

16:38, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,-3 using 1d6-4,1d6-4, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1. fightin' - stake that judge!.

I might burn a chip or seven on that IF Robert counts as Ganging Up with me, which would make the result a 2.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #201):

[[OOC: Robert does, indeed, count as Ganging Up with you.]]

Sorry again, but what damage will this thing do, assuming I hit with a roll of 7, which I believe I do.

16:58, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5. burned a blue.

I'd suggest a d4 and the stake breaks on snake eyes due to its improvised nature.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #203):

[[OOC: Str + d4 sounds good to me, but I think I'll only have it break if you roll a 1 on a Fighting Roll, like any other El Cheapo weapon.

You also get +4 damage for hitting the heart, and an additional +4 damage because the stake is made of wood (this thing has a weakness to wooden weapons)]]

14 damage.

17:11, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 11 using 1d4+8, rerolling max with rolls of 3. called shot with stake (die please).
17:11, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3. with stake (strength part only).

[[OOC: I wonder how The Ranger is going to explain driving a stake through the heart of the very judge she was sent to Blackthorn to find to her superiors...]]

Wildcat raises the take over her head and, with a mighty effort, slams it into the former Honorable Melvin K. Blume's chest, hard enough to make the point slide out the other end.

he looks down at the stake. "Oh, f..."

Then he bursts into flames, which burn with a hellish intensity for a few seconds as the body crumbles away to ash.

[[OOC: Combat Over.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:36, Tue 12 Oct 2010.

Robert holsters his pistol and leans on his cane, slightly out of breath.  "I wonder if that counts as being disbarred?" he mutters to himself.  Catching a glimpse of Marina, he asks, "Miss, are you alright?"

OOC:  I'm playing it like Wildcat doesn't realize that was the judge yet.

Wildcat says nothing at first, but grins very smugly at Evans.  No such thing as vampires huh?

She slaps Mr. Mickle-fwate on the shoulder.  "Ya stood yer ground with that thing Mr. Mickle-fwate, and at yer age.  I bet you were a real hell cat way back when."

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #207):

Marina rushes over and throws herself at Robert. "Oh, you brave man! Yu've saved us from that awful thing!" She hugs him tight.

Robert pats her on the back, trying to comfort her.  "There, there, miss.  It's all oveh."

If/when she calm's down a bit, he asks, "Who could have delivered the coffin heah?  Was it a prop for a show?"

[Private to GM: am I still charmed?]

In reply to Robert Micklethwait (msg #210):

[Private to Robert Micklethwait:
((OOC: Yes. The charm is one of those long-term Puppet effects that the power warns you about. She can maintain it indefinitely, but she can only have one person charmed at a time. She will probably keep you charmed until she's sure the Law is looking elsewhere, she finds a more useful target, she calls you to her in the night and drains you dry, or you somehow get her to give you an order that gives you a second chance to resist. Do you mind being an unwitting Renfield for a little bit?))]

She shakes her head. "It was just a box. It was just being used for storage." She begins to weep. "And he seemed like such a nice man the other night!"

Evans, who has by now collected himself and joined them, asks some questions of his own. "And what do you mean by 'the other night,' miss?"

"He came here two nights ago. It was late in the evening, after our show. He seemed sorry he'd missed it."

"This was during the storm, yes?"

"I-I think so. Anyway, he paid for a room, and said he'd catch the show the next night."

"mm-hmmm. And did he?"

She gives him a questioning look.

"Did he catch the next show?"

"There wasn't one. We canceled it on account of the goings-on."

"Ah, silly me. How easily these things slip the mind. But was he there waiting for the show, canceled as it was?"

"I-I didn't see him. I had assumed he'd left."

"Only to now find him in the basement shoved in a storage crate."

"Yes." She frowns at him.

"Robert...do you remember the Blonde gentleman from last night? The one you followed to the backstage area in the company of that young lady?" Evans says, hoping his companions would get where he was going with this.

Please Resume posting on the Chapter 7.1 Thread.