In reply to Charging Bear (msg #285):

"Well, well." Jericho chuckles. "Ain't this a peach? Damn I'm good!"

He walks over to Rum Tum Tugger and removes the manacles the assassin was using as a weapon, then gives him a kick for good measure.

Then he does the same to McCavity, picking up the gun and sliding it into his other holster. Then he leans over to Charging Bear to start disarming him.

In reply to Jericho Cantrell (msg #286):

Charging Bear springs into action, swings with his tomahawk as hard as he can at Cantrell.

OOC: Wild Attack, hoping for the Drop too.
13:05, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,2 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3. Fighting (+2 Wild, -3WP).
13:05, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,4 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5. Fighting - Fate Chip.
13:05, Today: Charging Bear rolled 2,2 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,3. Fighting - Fate Chipx2. Alright ... two chips is enough.

Without the drop the best I got is a 6 which will miss Cantrell (unless he's unarmed)

Here's damage just in case.
13:07, Today: Charging Bear rolled 15,1 using 1d8+2,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+5)13,1. Damage (Str, Tomahawk, +2WA).

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #287):

"Jehoshaphat!" Cantrell shouts as Charging Bear takes a swing at him. He blocks the tomahawk with his bayonet blade. "Ain't got the good sense to stay down, huh?"

He turns the gun on CB, also drawing out the gun he relieved from McCavity. He unloads them right at CB's chest. "Thanks for the excuse!"

((OOC: You've startled him, but he's expecting trouble. Cantrell is checking the incapacitated people for this exact reason, so no drop. Also, since he's got a weapon with a bayonet drawn, he's not unarmed.

The uses his Two-Fisted and Quick Draw edges to get two guns in hand, and starts blasting away.

11:35, Today: Jericho Cantrell rolled 7,5,5,1 using d10,d6,d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 7,5,7,3. Shooting! With CB's Parry nuked by his WA, those both hit.

First hit: 11:36, Today: Jericho Cantrell rolled 5 using 2d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 2,2. Damage. 5 damage. Not going to do much to CB.

Second hit: 11:37, Today: Jericho Cantrell rolled 10 using 2d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 5,4. Damage. Shaken and 1 Wound (which will Incapacitate him).))
This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Mon 07 Nov 2011.

Carl looks faintly confused at Evans' signalling, but his head is full of whispers and the thudding of his blood, so he doesn't give it too much thought, getting hold of the lamp. Possibly this was the only way the tyler would stay distracted enough to let them go - Carl harbours a suspicion that Lurch, like Tex, could survive pretty much anything.

He paces over as fast as wounds and ringing tile will allow, meaning to soak the tyler's exposed shirt with oil and set the wick to it.

[[Ah, no idea what the rolls are there...]]

In reply to Carl Allans (msg #289):

((OOC: I'll call that a Touch Attack, which is a Fighting roll with a +2 bonus. Remember that Lurch's Parry is down to 4 right now from Evans' Trick. If you succeed, roll a d6. If you roll 3 or higher, you've set him on fire.))

In reply to Jericho Cantrell (msg #288):

OOC: Rolling on Incap table
13:51, Today: Charging Bear rolled 11,1 using 1d8-3,1d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,4. Incapacitation.
That's a nice raise.
13:53, Today: Charging Bear rolled 7 using 2d6, rerolling max. Injury Table.
Guts: Your hero catches one somewhere between the crotch and the chin.
13:53, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max. Injury Table.
Battered: Vigor reduced a die type (minimum d4).

Carl semi-dismantles the lamp and casts the oil from the reservoir across the giant's back and ragged trailing cotton, hoping until the tension arcs across his chest that the wick will stay lit.

The little flame flickers in the draught...gutters, catches.


[[6 to touch, 4 for fire, init: 6C
Um. Was that the only light source, since it was pretty dark in there?]]

"Surprise!" Evans yells as the remains of the giant's shirt burst into merry flames. The giant stands there, not quite comprehending.

Evans takes the opportunity to run for the door and pull it open.

"Owwwwww." Mr. Lurch mutters as the flames grow more intense. His whole back is cheerfully ablaze by the time he realizes something is wrong. He turns and looks directly at Carl. "Yoooooouuuuu." He says.

"Oh no you don't! Over here!" Evans growls and shoots the giant in the back. Another chunk of the man-thing's chest burst, splattering Carl in dark red ichor.

"Owwwwwwww." Lurch mutters, but his attention is fixed on Carl.

((OOC: Yes, that was originally your only light source. not the only lantern in the room, just the only lit one. Of course, you've replaced it with a nice new flaming Lurch. The fire initially deals him 1d10 damage.

12:27, Today: Mr. Lurch rolled 8 using 1d10, rerolling max with rolls of 8. Fuego! Not really enough to bother him yet.

Evans takes the moment to run for the door and throw it open.

Mr. Lurch rolls to see if the fire gets worse. It does, dealing +2 damage. He takes 11 damage all told. That, he feels. Of course, he's already Shaken, but he has the Hardy trait, so the Shaken doesn't worsen into a wound. He still has to try to unshake, though.

12:29, Today: Mr. Lurch rolled 7,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,2. Roll to unshake. He does, but it consumes his action. Though since he's in Melee with Carl, if Carl attempts to withdraw Lruch will get a free attack.

Next round:

Evans: 8S
Lurch: 8C
Carl: 6C

Since The NPCs go before Carl, I'll continue my post.

Evans attempts to shoot Lurch with his Bolt again.

12:33, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 5,1 using d6,d6. Bolt! Hit.

12:34, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 15 using 3d6. Damage. That's a Shaken and 1 Wound for Lurch, putting him at 2 wounds total.

Lurch rolls to see if the fire gets worse. It does. Now the fire is at +4 damage. 13 damage. That's enough to deal another Wound. Lurch is at 3 wounds total. He rolls to unshake.

12:39, Today: Mr. Lurch rolled 3,6 using d8,d6. Roll to unshake. Again, he unshakes, so if Carl runs for the door Lurch will get one free attack against him. Carl could go for Defense while running for the door, though, which would give him +2 to Parry.))

---

Up Next: Carl Allans!

How fast am I? Carl wonders, trying to ignore the fear winding in his guts at the sight of someone who just stands there while on fire. He throws a shotgun cartridge to the tyler in the slim hope catch reflex will cause him to drop the desk to grab it, and makes a break for it.

[[Trick(?): 4 ...and Carl tries to reach the light.
init: KD]]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Mon 07 Nov 2011.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #291):

Jericho watches the man crumple, and smiles to himself in satisfaction. "Well, now. What to do about you?"

He searches CB, removing all the rest of his weapons. At the bag of dynamite, he lets out a low whistle, then looks around the room.

"Well. Don't this provide me some interesting opportunities?" he muses. Then he grins.

((OOC: And since CB is unconscious for the next hour, he won't get to see what Jericho is cooking up...I'll get to that in a bit.))

In reply to Carl Allans (msg #294):

He doesn't flinch. It's not even certain he even noticed the cartridges hitting him. But he does hesitate as Carl moves past him toward the light. There's a thud as the desk drops behind Carl, but it comes nowhere near him, and he finds himself back out in daylight. Overcast rainy daylight, but daylight nonetheless.

Carl tries to slam the door behind him and goes stumbling down the steps to get off Society property before seeking the nearest corner/alley where he can't be seen from the Lodge. If he gets there without incident he'll take the opportunity to rest and hear his body's complaints, assessing the damage, and raise his face to the rain, in all likelihood trying to drink it.

The door closes, and Carl is able to stumble away. he hurts. He hurts a lot. His bruises have bruises. The wound in his arm is throbbing...hopefully it isn't infected. His neck hurts from where that...thing tried to choke him. And there's the wounds on his soul, which feel like they're getting worse.

The rain cools him a little, but there's a horse trough closer.

And something shivering in a crate nearby, whispering frantically to itself. "Coming...coming to get me...to get us all...back from the grave...back for revenge...can't let him get me...can't let him find me..."

The bullet graze - he hopes it's a graze, hasn't time to find out and is too messed up to tell if there's any lead in there - is pretty firey, which makes breathing interesting. It takes him a moment to find and fish out his knife, which was neither sheathed nor, in his recall, dropped clattering in the Lodge. Apparently at some point he wedged it down his sleeve by instinct or happy accident. He smiles inwardly at the chance, makes sure it's clean and puts it away.

Wait, that's not a dog...

Carl frowns at the semi-familiar whimpering sound, hauls himself over there and toes the side of the crate cautiously.
"?"

If it doesn't attack him he'll spend half a minute to crouch down and see what the issue was. Nate, if this is your fault I am going to fix my gun, make me some holy fucking buckshot and shoot your damned walking ghost 'til you ain't more than cobwebs...

Dave flinches, then looks up. "Oh thank god! Carl, you gotta help me! I'm sorry for everything...all the shit I done...please, don't let him get me! Please help me!"

Dave doesn't look particularly injured except for the bandage on his hand, and there's no burn mark on his head. He smells strongly of whiskey. If Nate did come for him, it's possible that Dave just took off running before the specter could hit him with the curse.

"He's back...he's back..." Dave whimpers. "Oh lordy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get him killed...and now he's back from the grave to kill us all..."

Carl listens to this with a faint frown, then stands and backs a little - not enough to be seen from the Lodge, still highly alert for sounds or movement, particularly small, skittery movement from that direction - and looks up and down the street and the alley they're semi-in.

[[Notice 13 - anything to see?]]

Carl can spot Evans, apparently searching the alleys for something, possibly Carl himself. The Marshal looks just as battered as Carl feels. Otherwise, nothing seems to be coming this way.

Carl gives Evans a wary extra second or so of attention, then finishes his examination of the surroundings with a shrug like 'he's not here' and waits expectantly for Dave to come on out of that box.

Dave just crawls deeper into his box. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." he mutters, like a mantra.

Carl drops to one knee and reaches in left-handed to draw Dave half-out by the scruff, startling a little at the crack of a sudden loud peal of thunder. He chucks the man's head up a bit to look at him, nodding slightly churchward, running his stained right thumb across his own face, not quite touching, and nodding to the nearest porch/boardwalk section. "..."

He indicates the empty street, nods ranchward then to Dave, serious as the prospect of killing frost at calving-time, then turns his arm to show the bite marks, fishes out some of his remaining cougar bits and briefly shoves them under Dave's nose. It'd been a walker all right. Carl makes sure he has Dave's attention before loosening his grip. "?"

"no...don't want to go near the church..." Dave mutters as Carl hauls him out. "That's where I saw him, you know...just standin' there, cocky as you please, like he hadn't a care in the world...like he hadn't been shot by that Ranger yesterday...The whole world's comin' to an end, Carl, and the dead are risin' up to punish us for our sins...I swear I didn't want him to get kilt. I swear! Ain't nothin' I can do to make up for it...I'm a bad man, Carl, I deserve to burn in Hell..."

There's a cough from the alleyway.

"Ah. There you are." Says a familiar voice. "I've been looking for you."

Carl smacks Dave upside the head. It sends pain roaring up his injured arm, but at least that blanks out the flare in his chest and throat, the sudden burning at the corners of his eyes. It's less a friendly get-ahold-of-yourself slap than a rethink-that-before-you-piss-me-off whap to the temple. Despite the chill and the bloodloss, Carl isn't shivering.
"..."

(...skeleton, the earth pouring from ribs, eyesockets, jaw snapping like a puppet's comically meaningless chattering with the equally blank intent to kill...and yet her finger-bones were unmistakeable. Shreds of cloth and hair, skin and sinew, the stench of mould...and the moment there was no longer thought, firing a shotgun into his mother's skull. And again. And, reloading, again. Because it was that or make no resistance.) Carl shows David the fist that struck him, grey eyes hard. "..."

Carl's shoulders tense and he looks back at Evans before hauling himself to his feet, figuring if the man was going to shoot him down there he'd have done so already, or was out of ammunition. He's aware of some thought battering around his head with the fragile desperation of a trapped bird, but concentration is hard. Jesse's walking. That's not it, but the stronger thought stalks through his skull like a big barn cat. Jesse's walking. Jesse's walking gonna have to put him down. He tries to focus on Evans. "?"

"He...ain't just a deadder, Carl. He's a goddamned walkin', talkin' ghost! Him AND the bounty hunter! Both o' them, walkin' around in the church...I saw the bounty hunter die, Carl! I swear to god, I saw him shot down in the Red Eye by that fella with the scarf you was chasin', then went to the church not half an hour later an' there he was, walkin' about cool as you please! And then I saw Jesse...he come after me, and I ran..."

Evans coughs again. "I beleive I can explain a few things...but I came to find you to check on your wounds. We both took quite a beating back there, and I don't think you've even had that scratch the cougar gave you looked at."

Carl raises an eyebrow at Dave. "?" Really, all that's too complicated, and he doesn't want to think.
Evans just gets a wary look. The Dust Adder just about isn't swaying on his feet, but it's probably willpower.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:48, Mon 14 Nov 2011.

"Don't know...didn't think about that..." Dave mutters, but he shows no signs of moving.

"In point of fact, the young man he saw was not actually a ghost." Evans says. "Nor was he any sort of zombi like the ones we faced down a few months ago. Whatever happened to him to cause him to crawl out of his coffin, it left him with his mind and free will intact."

Evans moves closer to Carl, apparently intending on looking him over.