Kat lowers her weapon at the dirt and lowers the hammer once the Adders are gone, and carefully reholsters.

"Well the jury's in.  Yer a good man, Evans.  You'll probably live longer than I will, but you don't give scum like that anything when they've proven themselves to be liars.  Besides, the more I provoke 'em, the more you look like the voice of reason."

She fishes in her duster, and realizes that what she's looking for takes two hands, and gives it up.

"As fer that sixgun, we're all gonna need one.  We're probably safe for a bit, but it's only a matter of a few minutes before one of them varmints gets enough sheep dip in 'im ta decide he's gonna be the hero that shoots the Marshall, or avenges his idiot friend who wanted to shoot me, or blow somethin' up."

She shakes her head.

"I ain't even made it to th' telegraph office yet, dammit.  But by way of apology to this fine gentleman for my jackass manners towards him up to this point, ah think he outta be the first one ta fill you full of his recently acquired knowledge, Marshal.  But I would recommend that one of ya'll take that six gun across lots to Mr. Roland's establishment an' just make yerself visible.  He's a good man too, sticks his neck out in a fight that's not his.

"I'd go myself but I got an appointment with Underhill, a bullet, a pair of pliers and maybe a sip of brandy if'n I'm lucky.  Looks like I've got a scratch.

She looks at Charging Bear directly.  "Mighty sorry to meet you this way.  Katrina Hawkins...  I understand if you don't want to shake on it, bein' I'm a bloody mess an' all.  Powerful rude of me.  Should have cleaned up first."

The Native son extends his hand to the ranger, "I'm called Charging Bear, a pleasure to meet ya Ms Hawkins. I imagine if you survive all of this you'll earn your silver star and stripe." he says with a smile.

After a moment or two the man's face shifts to a more serious look, "But you'd best get to the telegraph and inform your people of whatever you've been dealing with and add to that that there is a serious possibility of a powerful and rather nasty spirit making deals around here." He pauses then sighs, "I've a feeling that Dr Ward woke it up and some of his men have been making deals with it. Ward has a large and rather elaborate circle inlaid with turquoise and lapis lazuli in his work shop. Spirit is probably Aztec in origin... Quetzalcoatl, Xiuhcoatl, Mixcoatl, or Tezcatlcoatl... not sure which it is."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Tue 02 Nov 2010.

Perhaps incredibly (or perhaps not as Charging Bear's past experiences with white people are completely unknown to Kat at this point), she doesn't doubt a single word the Indian tells her.

"Damn... think they're related?"  she asks Evans.  "Or do you not believe in spirits neither?"  It was a bit of good natured ribbing at this point.  Wildcat was long since past the point of rubbing it in.

She looks back to Charging Bear.  "Them's some long words.  I ain't got no idea how to spell any of that.  But I'll try."

And in a lower voice, not even intended for Evans, she adds.  "And I'd appreciate it if ya kept that little detail under yer bonnet fer now.  The Dust Adders are right, but fer the wrong reason.  I probably am going to jail, but not yet, and not fer shootin' no damn Dust Adder."

I'm glad he's on our side, this Injun's a smart as a whip.  Wildcat sighed.  She'd been running that bluff since she got here.  Between impersonating a commissioned Ranger and killing the judge, her hide would be well and truly tanned if she ever left Blackthorn.  All she was supposed to do was ride into town, track down the Judge and ride out.  But these people need help now, and they ain't sendin' no one else.

Even then it didn't matter, she'd been a liar, prideful, and a hypocrite.  The wounds finally started to ache.

"Marshall... before I go skedaddling off, is there a church in town?"

The Dust Adders slowly wander away, but they go.

Evans sighs and looks at Chargign Bear. "We've also had a bit of a bad day...but yes, I'm very interested in having a long conversation and comparing notes."

at the mention of the pistol, he shakes his head. "No, I'd prefer to keep it with me. Frost may have escaped, but I have no doubt he'll be coming back one day, and I'd prefer to be ready. Besides, I'm going to need a pistol of some kind to modify into a new sidearm for myself, if I ever get the damn time." He bends down and picks up the pistol that Tim dropped earlier. "Here. This should help. You'll probably need to clean it, but it should still be serviceable."

"Liars?" Evans says, raising an eyebrow at Wildcat's comment. "The Dust Adders as a whole have never struck me as liars. Thugs, bullies, and the sort who get violent with too much booze in them, yes, but not liars. And I think we're going to have to have a good, long discussion about how not to kick at an angry dog when it's already bitten one once."

At the mention that Wildcat isn't commissioned, Evans goes a bit pale. "You mean you're not...oh dear. You're right, mentioning that would be bad. And we're going to have that little chat about not stirring up hornet's nests a little earlier, I think. But right now, you're all we've got. God help us."

He shakes his head. "Well, if you're referring to aetheric entities that can be easily mistaken for spirits, yes, I believe in those. And that would explain a few things. I wonder if the vampires are connected to it, or if they're a separate problem that decided to grace itself on our little town."

Evans nods at Wildcat's question. "Yes. We've even got a priest now. He's been cleaning the place up for the last few days. I'll give you directions" which he does.

He helps Wildcat into the Undertaker's office while they chat. He glares at Underhill, then looks at the three coffins.

"Oh, dear. You look like you've been busy lately." he says. "Which usually mean's I'm going to be busy, too."

Underhill grins. "Well! If it isn't Miss Annie Oakley!" he says, ignoring Evans, "My, those wounds look nasty. Come over here...I've been hoping to get a visit from you again, and now I get to get my hands on you!"

"Ya'll are going to have a talk with me?  Oh Marshal, I can't wait to hear this.  And if'n ya want, I can clean that peashooter out for you.  My rifle got rained on and left in the muddy street, I've got to clean the snot out of it, an' if yer gonna clean one shooting iron ya might as well clean a dozen.

Wildcat actually laughs at the undertaker's lechery.  "Yeah and you get a show too.  Get yer pliers, 'Doc'.  I felt the first four bullets go in, I'm not sure about the next two.  Have you got any whiskey?  And which one's your butcher's table?"

Wildcat borrows a cartridge from her own gunbelt.  This was going to hurt.

"Oh, joy. I can hardly wait." Wildcat can't really be sure if he's being sarcastic or dead serious.

He leads her over to a table, clears it off, and bids her to lay down. he hands her a bottle of whiskey to polish off while he does his initial examination, then has Evans and Charging Bear hold Wildcat down as he peels off her shirt and gets to work pulling bullets out.

*CLINK!*

*CLINK!*

*CLINK!*

Then he cleans the wounds, ignoring the screams as he does, then stitches.

He only gropes her once or twice as he works.

"You're lucky." he says as he's cleaning up. Wildcat can feel her arm again. It hurts, but she can move her fingers. "Or else I'm a miracle worker. You were only carrying three slugs...the others went clean through, or were just grazes. That one in your arm was the tricky one...damn near the nerve. Could have left you crippled, but you're lucky you had me here to get it out."

He goes to the wash basin. "Oh, and you only owe me five dollars for the service today...you've been very good for business, so I think you've earned a discount."

[[OOC: He aced on both his healing rolls. which is good, because he needed to since he only has a d4 healing skill and is an extra.

Silas Underhill rolled 4 using 1d4-2, rerolling max with rolls of (4+2)6. Healing check

Silas Underhill rolled 6 using 1d4-1, rerolling max with rolls of (4+3)7. Healing check.

That's both of Wildcat's current wounds.

All in all, this took 20 minutes, so the situation in the Oriental will probably be done with before any help arrives, and Carl can go lead the Dust Adders to the Grand Bull without any hindrances.]]

Time for some navel gazing on my part...

Kat screamed and tried not to jerk too much while the butcher worked.  Yelping in pain was okay, but moving was not.

She looked at her arm with mixed emotions.  That her fingers twitched again was a tremendous relief, but that burn... that thing was ugly.  She frowned.  It wouldn't even be visible when she was "in uniform" but she could forget looking good in anything else, unless very long gloves stayed in fashion.

"Ughhhh..."

The first one came out pretty quick.  Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

What the hell was she thinking about clothes especially right now?  The thought shocked her.  Katrina Hawkins hadn't worn so much as a skirt since she was 16 years old.  For the first few months it was a matter of necessity to dress like a boy, until she'd been outed once anyone actually paid a lick of attention to her and after that it was just a matter of utility.  That's another bluff she'd failed to maintain for very long.  She definitely would never have made it as an actress.

When's the last time I wore a dress... she pondered, and realized it'd been her wedding gown.  That brought up some bad memories, but before she could relive them...

"Gaarrrgh God Almighty!"

God in heaven, that second one hurt like fire.  Curse that blasted shootist.

It rebooted her idle thought processes.  She wasn't mad at the red man, couldn't be.  He knew not what he did.  It's not that Evans didn't deserve to know, it's just he needed to believe in her.  Not even her, but rather that he wasn't alone, that some distant benefactors wouldn't tolerate this impossible situation.  Evans was a good man but he needed to be groomed to draw a hard line to persist as Marshal.  In a world full of grays, law men must force things into black and white.  Now she was just some trainee causing problems.

"There ain't no bullet over there Underhill."

She'd expected this, wasn't paying much attention to it.  It was part of the treatment, like the pain of the bullet coming out, or the needle passing through her skin.  But that feeling around under her left breast was getting to be a bit much.

God she must look a sight.  Clothes caked in blood and road dust, and her hair felt like it was matted down with the guts of some animal.  Probably her own-

The next cry was a shriek, a shrill sound that definitely didn't come from a man.

All right, that one was just embarrassing.  She'd just sit there a minute, and pretend that didn't just happen.

Wildcat flops down a small bar of gold that ought to cover it.  One of the damned Adders had mentioned King Yankee himself, who'd said something about fooling people.  Running bluffs clearly wasn't her style, but maybe some of the people all of the time would suffice.  Someone had to make Underwood's coffins.  They'd have wood working tools.

"Heh, the law here's in a bad way."  Wildcat tells Underhill, grudgingly buttoning up her gore spattered work blose.  "Ain't got 'nuff six guns to go around, ain't got no scatterguns, just spent a chunk of my last few dollars gettin' stitched, an' the Marshal here can't even find sharpened wood dowels fer his new Aether Mangle."

John Smith:

It is wet. The rain beats down on the lone man as he wanders along the creek. He;d gotten separated from the Asian woman earlier, said he'd wanted to try and pick up some clues of his own...and the storm had come on suddenly, like a judgment from the heavens.

And this wasn't like those squalls that sometimes shook the Maze. This storm was mean and angry, ripping into the land, tearing at bushes, sending moisture up every orifice, even those covered with heavy layers of clothes. No wonder he hated Texas...even the weather was bigger here.

luckily for him, he spots the glimmer of light from what seems to be a well-appointed ranch house. Finally. Let's just hope someone is actually home...and that they're friendly to visitors wearing a badge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

Had learned patience, had learned calm, had learned a great many things from his old master, but at the moment none of them kept him from cussing up a storm to rival the one blowing and beating down on him. That would teach him to try and wander off on his own in a land he was unfamiliar with. By God in heaven was there any land as wretched as the hell hole that was Texas? "And then y'can shove it right up yer ass before ya'turn the winch!" he shouted to the skies. His cursing ceased as he noticed the light in the distance and found himself running where before he had been trudging. His duster as soaked as a duster might get he climbed the stairs to the porch.

He paused before he reached the door, the directions he had received, provided he hadn't gotten terribly lost, had indicated this was Wards ranch. He had no clue as to what to expect here so he took a moment to compose himself which amounted to some ragged breathing and shivering as he tried to center his mind from it's earlier frustrations. He didn't know if anyone within would be friendly or not, especially to someone wearing a badge, and given he had some questions to ask Ward that weren't 'official' in any respects he decided to keep his duster buttoned shut. Sure he wouldn't be able to reach his dragon-staff but he'd be able to reach the river stones in his pocket and his hands and feet were weapons unto themselves. Raising a fist he rapped his calloused knuckles against the door three times making sure the knock was heavy and loud, hopefully loud enough to be heard over the rain.

They'd followed. Good. Carl had halted everyone on the porch out of the rain and gestured for them to enter in pairs at most, to and keep it quiet. Dave last, since technically he was barred - Carl didn't want him far out of sight right now. Best to keep them waiting a little for the Idea, and food was first order of buisness.

Carl lets Max and Todd go in before he himself enters the establishment. If Mike and Percy are at the bar (with a revived Frank or otherwise) he'll sit beside them, otherwise just nod that he's coming over in a moment. He's sure to look for Danielle and Tim in the not unlikely event they've drifted over here, and pushes away the thought of the long ride out to Jesse's pa's place. Later.

He gives the barkeep a small, self-mocking smile for being quite so covered in mud, bordering on apology. Then he points at a bottle and holds up two fingers, putting the money on the counter but keeping his hand subtly over it until Roland starts pouring.

When the barkeep finishes and glances down, he'll see the fine buckle from his brother's favourite hat in amongst the change. Not something Nate would part with alive. Carl holds his gaze, then silently indicates his weapon. Frost died like a man. No shame to his family from a hanging.


[[playing Reknown, too]]
This message was last edited by the player at 08:09, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #188):

"Well, perhaps you should remember that before you decide to pick a fight with the Dust Adders. They all have pistols and scatterguns, and aren't afraid to use 'em...even on their leaders."

"What do you mean by that?" Evans asks, raising an eyebrow.

Underhill hikes a thumb towards the three coffins. "One of my new clients is Nathanial Frost himself. Or at least what's left of him after the quiet fella finished filling him with buckshot. Seems Ward wasn't too happy about last night's little shootout, so he organized a posse to go after him. It's all those boys were talking about, aside from getting revenge against the 'damn Ranger' for the other two clients I got here, as well as for someone called 'Luke' that's supposed to be in your custody."

Evans practically falls into a chair, and sits in shock. After a minute, he composes himself and looks at Charging Bear. "And when, exactly, where you planning on sharing this information with me?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:36, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

In reply to Carl (msg #191):

Roland seems a bit nervous already, with all of the Dust Adders filing in to his place. He's managed to get the window borded up, and the table out of the wall (though there's a hole straight through it to the kitchen), so the place is looking at least a little more presentable.

When Carl lays the buckle on the bar, Roland stares at it, digesting the implications.

Finally, he gets enough voice to ask "Where is he now?"

OOC: It should be noted that I sleep when you yahoos are all awake and posting 30 times

---

In reply to Silas Underhill (msg #192):
Charging Bear looks at the previously discarded weapon thrust at him by Evans. Taking it in hand he nodded slightly to Wildkitten's offer of cleaning, "I'm sure I'll manage ma'am." He wipes the mud off the weapon and holds onto it as the group shifts into the undertaker's house of rest.

As Underhill fixes Wildkitten and spouts off about the Dust Adders, Charging Bear realizes that Evans didn't get his meaning earlier. He gives the marshal a slight smile, as though to say well you dunce, before saying "I didn't want to mention Frost's death infront of the Adders ... it might have caused them to get more riled up. Though I thought you'd've gotten my meaning when I said Frost wouldn't be needing it where he is now."

[[@ CB - what are they like, posting at three in the morning, huh? tch.]]

Carl downs most of the alcohol whilst Roland stares, saving a little for his shoulder. He nods across the road towards Underhill's at the question, then sort of winces and shakes his head slightly like 'you don't want to see him'.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #194):

[[OOC: It's all in good fun...remember that I have frequent insomnia and no job, so posting frequently is rather easy for me...]]

"I thought you meant that he got away." He says. "I think you had better give me a rundown of just what it was you experienced over at Ward's place, and I can fill you in on what's been going on here." He looks the native son over. "It certainly looks like you've been through some adventures."

He turns to Underhill. "Good sir, would you please give us some privacy?" He pulls out a few coins and holds them. "Go get something to eat. On me."

The coins vanish into the undertaker's pockets. "I do feel rather peckish. It's been a busy day, after all. toodle-oo!" He steps out of the shop and walks down towards the Grand Bull.

Evans returns his gaze to Charging Bear. "So. Weave me a story, sir."

"Marshal, Deputy Bear, before this gets started, is this somethin' important I need ta shut up and listen to, or should I make that telegraph run five minnits ago?"

"I rather believe it's the former, Miss Hawkins. Commissioned or not, we need all the help we can get, and you need to know just what's going on if you're going to be able to lend a hand." Evans says. "And, if you do well, you might manage to pull some kind of commendation out of the situation to balance out whatever trouble you'll catch from killing His Honor."

Wildcat snorts with laughter, but not at Evans.  "Well bucking rules is how I got called Wildcat in th' first place Marshal, but it weren't meant as no compliment.  I ain't even that worried about killin' th' judge by itself at this point since I'll be lucky if they don't throw me in the pokey for this passle of dumbass stunts I done pulled already."  She shrugs.  "I don't regret it though.  Best case scenario, they send a real Ranger out here.  Anyway I'll shut up now, I am mighty interested to hear this."

Charging Bear nods, "Alright Marshal, as you know the automaton Alouette, Augustus Spotswood, and myself went out to Ward's place. Turns out those dead, not dead Union boys were cattle rustlers, or so Ward said. One of them Danny boy was at Ward's place and in bad shape. I've a feeling someone has been playing with medicine or magics out there. Frost returned from whatever he did here and that caused a good bit of issue. Danny seemed to use it to get away from Ward and the rest of us and ran out into the barn. We went after him and met resistance from another Union soldier, he wore private stripes. He looked dead as dead can be but was walking, talking and fighting with the best of us. Also he knew things no one alive should know... " the native son stopped talking, and his hand drifted to the small doll around his neck.

"But in the end the dead private died again... though seemed to dissolve into black smoke that dissipated, with only a bloody smear behind to indicate it was ever there in the first place, that Union soldier must have had a real hate for Confederates. We found a seemingly dead Danny in the barn and brought him back into the house. Alouette put the boy in the pantry as Ward patched me up, "  Charging Bear lightly touches the bandage on his side.

"After that, Ward patch up me and Gus and even Frost, and we all went to sleep... the next morning Gangatsu arrived. She and Ward got into a bit of an argument ending with Ward challenging her to a dual. As that was happening Danny got up from his 'possum attempt and tried to get away again. Gangatsu, Gus and Alouette took Danny off, where I'm not sure right now.

Ward agreed to turn Frost over to me, to be brought to justice in town. Frost however had other plans and had apparently left the ranch in the night. He had made camp in a gorge not too far away however and had also setup an ambush for us. He dropped Ward and in the end Carl challenged Frost to a duel... which that silent son ofa bitch won. Though shotgun and carbines are odd dueling weapons. The Dust Adders and I brought Frost here to be buried, while Ward and Augustus went back to the ranch house."

The native son pause again, running over the events of the past day or so in his mind. "Already told you about the strangeness in Ward's barn... and that's about the long of the short of it Marshal."


OOC: I think I got the highlights without talking about too much Charging Bear didn't see/hear about.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:39, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

Evans nods as he listens. "Hmmm. Who is this 'Spotswood' character? I don't believe we've met. I think that 'Gus' you mentioned is Gus Shaw, correct?"

he frowns. "Well. That's illuminating. Let me tell you about the night we've had."

"We haven't had any new undead attacks in town, at least not of the Yankee kind, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Apparently, kicking the Dust Adders out of the Grand Bull the other day riled Frost up enough that he decided to try and run me and all the deputies I've hired out of town. They blew up my office and then went after the Grand Bull to trash the place."

"Miss Gangatsu saved my life after they tossed a stick of dynamite in the place. We went out and confronted Frost, but he sent this giant goon that called himself 'Tex' into the saloon as an alternative to explosives. He seemed to be quite effective in that regard, throwing a table through a wall. Miss Gangatsu headed him off while I faced down Frost. I challenged him to a duel, like the silent fellow you mentioned, but in this case my gyromounted pistol suffered a critical malfunction at the worst possible moment and I was left without a weapon to defend myself with."

"That was when Miss Hawkins arrived on the scene. She managed to scatter some of the Dust Adders, and she, Robert, and a lady named Katy Devon inflicted most of the casualties the Dust Adders suffered. John Smith got the drop on Frost, sending him running, and the others followed. During the confusion we somehow managed to capture the giant. I'm still not quite sure how we pulled that one off, as it's clear he could have swatted us all with little trouble if he'd put his mind to it."

"We managed to get a few answers out of him before he decided to take his leave and we let him go to circumvent any further destruction. I filled Miss Hawkins in on some of the details, we helped Roland clean up the Grand Bull, and turned in."

"However, during the night, one of the injured Dust Adders got waylaid by something. Miss Hawkins found him hiding in an abandoned house. She said he attacked her and tried to suck her blood, and that he burst into flames when exposed to the light of day. She also determined that whatever happened to him must have happened at the Oriental Theater and Dance Hall, so Robert, Miss Hawkins, and I went to investigate."

"We ran into some lovely ladies who I think have some sort of hypnotic powers, and Robert found the missing circuit judge. The judge apparently has been turned into a monster as well, and he attacked. Miss Hawkins again proved herself by dispatching the monster with a hastily-sharpened chair leg to the heart."

"We discovered that the last person the Judge had been seen with was a lady named Lucy, who actually lives here in town. We found Lucy very ill, and high on opium, but not turned yet. At least, we don't think so, but with the thick clouds and the rain obscuring the sun we just couldn't tell for sure. Miss Hawkins was supposed to head off to the telegraph office to get some information from her superiors about just what to do in case of vampires."

"Miss Katy Devon joined us, apparently deciding to take up my offer of being a Deputy to help us solve some of the many problems we face. She and Robert stayed behind when I left to check on Miss Lucy's residence, as we were in need of a place to keep her while we determined whether she's a danger to anyone. As I was gathering my overcoat from the Grand Bull, I was informed of the disturbance and...well, that's where we are now, really."

"I guess I should fill in that little bit.  By the way, you win."  Wildcat tells Charging Bear, taking her hat off to him.  "I can't top a story like that."

"Anyways some'un done complained to me the Adders were raising hell right outside here.  When I got here they said they weren't doin' nothin' and at that point I was actually inclined to believe 'em, but then I got shot by two losers, who got away.

"They weren't no Dust Adders I don't reckon, on account of that one Adder who tried to put his hands on me got in a scuffle with him.  Th' other one done plugged me from th' roof of th' barber's.  Th' Deputy here did a right good job of tryin' to catch 'im, but he gave us both the slip.  Didn't get a good look at neither of 'em.

"Anyway I done got a little confused between gettin' shot six times who did what, but one of them Adders said somethin' about I done kilt someone by shootin' him in the back, same man that kid was talking about, one of the men in the parlor up front actually I think.  Ah think it was th' one Katy shot.  I was about to have a fight against a half dozen of 'em... that would just be a good warm up any other day but by that point I was bleeding all over the damn place and couldn't move my arm.  I was hurt and they knew it was their best opportunity to sic me.

"I called 'em out on it too, an' much to my one called Jesse manned up.  I recognized him, good fer nothin' cattle rustler I caught back in Nacogdoches county.  He hid in an outhouse, which I turned over on its face to catch him.  Funniest arrest I ever made, hauled him in, all covered in manure, but they let him walk because they said I was out of my jurisdiction.  Got in a whole heap of trouble over that.

"Anyway I plugged him pretty good, but I didn't figure on killin 'im with one bullet.  Wanted to arrest him but God had other ideas.

"I made the mistake of believing them again when that one that grabbed me told me to my face they weren't gonna try to kill me again today, then the damn liar goes and pulls that crap.  Now don't make excuses fer him, feigning non aggression and then doin' that is lyin'.  I got a pretty good idea what kind of hell on earth you two arriving like that saved me from.  There ain't too many other ways for a scenario involving a hated woman who's been pinned down and a bunch of scum like that to turn out, if'n ya get my drift.

"That's the last time I ever give a Dust Adder an inch of civility.  It weren't personal before, but they made it personal today."

"I'm not sure about that." Evans mutters. "From where I was standing it looked more like he was egging the other one on, daring him to do something. Still, whatever his intentions were, it's no way to treat a lady, and I'm glad we were able to intervene before things escalated."

He turns to Charging Bear. "Interesting move there, by the way. I heartily applaud your daring-do."

He pulls a pad of paper and a fountain pen. "So. Let's make a list of things we need to get done."

"We need to investigate this paraphernalia that Ward's playing around with. I have the feeling it might be the key to everything. If I could get a look at it, I might be able to give you a better idea of what everything involved is for, but we'd need a pretense to get on the grounds and I'm sure Ward could see through Miss Hawkins' ruse, so that's something we shouldn't rely on."

"We also need to determine if we've solved our vampire problem. Robert was of the opinion that the Judge was turned before he came to town, and that he was the source of our problems. I'm not quite so sure about that, but we need more information in any case. We need to know just how vampirism spreads, and any other weaknesses they have aside from sunlight and a stake through the heart. We're also going to need to watch Miss Lucy to see if she turns."

"We should probably keep an eye on that Vanderholt Troupe. I can't put my finger on it, but there's just something I don't trust about them."

"We also need to track down the assassins. We can't let that sort of thing go on in town...it strikes at the very heart of the rule of law. We need to bring them to justice. Not only for peace of mind...we need to find out who sent them after Wildcat, and if they're going after anyone else."

He sighs, and looks at Wildcat. "With all this going on, we can't afford to have enemies at our backs. I'm sorry, but we can't pursue the Dust Adders right now. Our first priority is to protect the citizens of town and, like it or not, that includes them. We're going to need to patch up relationships with them if we're going to get anything else done. For now, the Dust Adders are off limits. In fact, and I hate suggesting this, they may make good allies if we're able to turn them on some of our other problems. I'm sure they'd be willing to help us track down those assassins."

He turns to Charging Bear. "And with all this going on, I want to know more about the Yankee dead man you fought. you said it disappeared...do you think it's gone for good, or could it come back? That might be key to getting on to Ward's property if that's a continuing problem for him."

He looks back at his list. "Oh, and in all this I need to find time to repair my gyromounted pistol. I'd feel much more comfortable if I were better armed, but I'll need at least three hours with the gunsmith to make all the necessary modifications."

He looks up. "Have I missed anything?"

In reply to Carl (msg #195):

"I will make such a determination for myself." Roland says, then leaves the room via the kitchen door. He doesn't return. Instead, a portly gentleman in a greasy apron steps out of the kitchen and up to the bar.

"Um...I done guess I'm takin' over for naow, on account o' a death in de fambly." He says in a thick cajun accent. "Ayum...yeah. I'm Ed. Can I take ya ordah?"

The silent man watches Roland go. Well, he'd warned him. He would try to be there when the barkeep returned, in case it was with a challenge or questions: God knew it was possible to love someone who did you evil, just as much as hating folk you'd never met.

Carl tilts his head slightly and listens with clear interest to what's on offer. He'll nod and tap the bar if he hears something that sounds appetising - which is just about anything by now - and gesture that the others be served, too, taking the opportunity to look about and see if anyone wants anything peculiar as he gets the first round in, paying upfront.


[Private to GM: *description poke* is Charlie's family present, is Frank revived, has Jenny left, are there any other patrons and where's Mike sitting?]
This message was last edited by the player at 07:17, Thu 04 Nov 2010.

In reply to Carl (msg #205):

Carl looks around the room as Ed enumerates on the menu, which seems to boil down to steak and grits or gumbo tonight.

Mike and Percy are in the corner near the stairs with Frank, who is rubbing his head as he comes to. It doesn't look like Miss Landers and her son are here tonight...they probably wanted to mourn at home.

Aside from the Dust Adders, it looks like the poker players are here, looking around at the assembled Adders somewhat nervously. Voodoo Ivory, the piano player, is back at work, but there doesn't seem to be a serving girl around. There are a couple other locals around, not many, and there's a thin girl at the bar whom Carl doesn't recognize with a couple of shot glasses next to her, currently polishing off a third.