Henry takes the 'witched' charges gingerly, now they're all magical, but looks grateful. "Here, you hold most of 'em," he says to Ned once they're out of Ward's easy hearing. "Don't reckon Ward knows shit about how stable this place is."

He claps Ned on the shoulder with enthusiasm he wasn't feeling. "Anyhow, you got in a good shot before - wanna bet a round on who gits it this time?"

[[ *headscratch* "I say to y'all how it is not heavy"? Good grief, where on earth are they carrying all that stuff?]]

---

Back in the cavern, Mike finds himself abruptly alone facing a bone 'glom as the scientist cheerfully blasts Murphy flying into the dark and pops back into cover.

Mike gapes for a moment, then shuts his mouth, frowns, puts down his lantern and aims at the black skull through the coalescing monster, steadying his pistol with both hands. "Jesus help me on this one..." he murmurs, and takes the shot.

[[Mike Bennett rolled -3,11 using d6-4,d6-4, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+6+3)15. shootin'. Hit and raise, I think.
23:59, Yesterday: Mike Bennett rolled 9 using 2d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+1)7. damage!
23:59, Yesterday: Mike Bennett rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. raise die *dope* -> 13 No, wait, headshot is +4, isn't it? *doubledope* So 17, I think. I'm going to sleep now.
init. 2C eek?]]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:17, Mon 06 May 2013.

Mike's shot hits the bone thing square in the chest.

There's a high {{Crack!}} of shattering bone.

And then the thing collapses. Bones fall back into the heap, and on top of the wreckage is the black skull...or what's left of it, anyway.

The bones twitch for a moment, then lay still.

((OOC: So...here's how things go.

Called shots to the 'glom don't do any extra damage, because it's undead. However, the skull itself has a much lower toughness than the rest of it, so with 13 damage you will cause a wound. That wound is enough to destroy the skull, since the 'glom doesn't have any chips left and I've only got a few GM chips. Congrats, Mike! nice shot.))

Mike steeples his hands over the gun and looks up with a quick, silent 'thank you God' before re-grabbing his light. "Paddy! You all right?"

[[if he has any movement left on that turn he'll take a step or two towards the main cavern.]]

Murphy struggles with breathing after being driven into a solid wall and he falls down to the floor.
Finally he manages a cough, then another and sucks in air greedily.

He manages a weak laugh.

"I think I struck me some Ghost Rock, Mike..."

Charging Bear remains quiet as he can wanting to see whats going on. He glances back to where Jeb and Itza-Chu should be and motions for Jeb stay. The native son didn't exactly feel friendly about being in a cave full with Dust Adders...

Worryingly, Charging Bear can't see either Jeb or Itza-chu...though it's quite dark in the tunnels, so it could just be the low light. Of course, if he wants to remain unobserved himself, he had better move back under cover.

Meanwhile, Tex roars and charges the closest thing he can see...the last skeleton remaining in sight. Which is soon so many splinters as the giant's huge fists slam it against the wall repeatedly.

Dr. Ward and the remaining Dust Adders cautiously come up the tunnel behind Mike. "Mr. Murphy! Are you injured?"

((OOC: Make a Stealth roll, CB. You get a +4 bonus for the pitch darkness, as the lamps of the Dust Adders seem strangely muted here. People in the chamber, you can try to make a notice check to beat him to see him.))

That's indeed an interesting question. Am I injured?


Carefully, Murphy, feels for any broken bones, but aftwer a quick self-examination he seems fine.
"Think I'm fine, Dr. Ward... the wall cushioned me fall."

Technically, it had not been a fall, but rather a flight, but Murphy didn't dwell on that. He got up instead, trying to will his eyes to see something.

"Could use me some light here, though! Pitch black here, darker than a Saxon's heart! Carl... Carl, where are you?"

7:09, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 10,3 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+2)10,3. Notice

Guess that's a sucess, even with darkneass modifiers.

"Comin'," Mike says, ducking a ballistic pelvic fragment as he moves cautiously through the area of bone shrapnel created by Tex. He looks at it a moment before moving on: hard to believe that had once been human. Mike clamps down on the memories and moves on, light high and wary.

The lantern illuminates a...yes, a hat on the old tracks, as he aims for Paddy's voice. Mike paces on, worried now.

[[08:29, Today: Mike Bennett rolled 2,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1. Notice? Nope. Probably not even Carl doing his corpse impression a little to his right...]]

Taking note of the darkness, Charging Bear moves back to where he left Jeb and the cursed murderer. He hopes for the best as the slips through the shadows.

OOC:
07:28, Today: Charging Bear rolled 14,6 using 1d4+4,1d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of (4+4+2)10,2. Stealthin' (+4 Darkness).
I'm batman!

Charging Bear retreats back into the tunnel, silent as a ghost. None are the wiser...but Charging Bear isn't able to find Itza-chu, either.

"I'm sorry..." Jeb whispers to him. His voice is weak. "Couldn't stop him...on account of I don't seem to have no hands..."

Meanwhile, Murphy is able to find Carl's battered body in short order. Dr. Ward and the remaining Dust Adders cautiously enter the chamber, and Dr. Ward gets to work bandaging and treating Carl as the man twitches. Mike hovers around them nervously, while Heavy Henry keeps a weather eye out.

Ned and Spanish Joe head over to Tex and manage to calm him down. Augustus Spotswood heads to the side of the chamber to examine the strange patterns of ghost rock in the walls.

The chamber is vast, cut from the living stone and earth. Ghost rock outcroppings take the shape of human faces frozen in silent screams. Heaps of bones obscure the floor and make moving around treacherous.

Worst of all are the tunnel mouths. Each of the tunnels that lead deeper on into the darkness has taken on the aspect of a giant snake's head, stalactite fangs dripping bilious water onto the floor below. There's four of tunnels, including the one the group just came from.

After a few minutes of treatment, Dr. Ward gives Carl an injection that dulls the pain quite well. "How are you feeling, Mr. Allans?" he asks.

((OOC: Dr. Ward attempts to heal some of the wounds Carl has accrued.

19:02, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward rolled 13,2 using d8-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,3. Healing. Well, at least things are looking up. That will cover all of Carl's wounds.))

Carl presses a hand against the bindings at his shoulder, testing the set of the cracked bone, then nods. Holding up a hand against offers of assistance, he gets up, stands a moment to check his balance, then walks over and picks up his hat. Another nod.

[[um...what did Ward just give him there?]]

In reply to Carl Allans (msg # 144):

((OOC: Morphine. What else would you expect a Victorian doctor to inject that would totally negate the kind of wounds Carl suffered?))

Cursing under his breath, Charging Bear does what he can to help Jeb. He has no desire to see the Dust Adder die.

OOC: Going to burn my white chip for Power points, if that's okay ... else I can't really help Jeb out.

12:39, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,4 using 1d6-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 4,5. Spirit (-1 Wound).

Charging Bear Reaches out to help Jeb...and can't find him. At all. Despite him still speaking to the native son.

"You know...afore you found me...I was in a lot of pain...I blacked out a bit, and found myself bein' pecked by those crow things...then you rescued me...but that was the spirit world, right?" There's a pause. "I passed back with you, but...what if I had no body to pass back with, on account o' I already died and passed on?"

((OOC: Actually, you can keep your chip.))

The native son frowns as he didn't think of that. Guess Jeb was dead long before we had left the hunting ground This reminds Charging Bear that Itza-chu still lurks in the darkness. He put away the massive pistol he'd been holding and pulls his twin blades as keeping quiet was more important now than ever. His eyes  adjusting to the gloom, he began looking for his foe.

OOC: Tracking?
13:28, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 17,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+5)17,5. Trackin'.

Mike paces a little closer to Murphy, trying to keep Carl in his peripheral vision but drawing attention away from the wrangler until he's got himself together. "All right. So...what does this shaman's photograph do? We was down here after what all keeps the Snake down, t'put it down for good, or as near as."

Mike automatically reaches for a cigarette, realises naked lights would be a bad idea and lets his hand drop, glancing over at Carl. The wrangler seems to be testing his hands' ability to clench and unclench with great concentration.


[[A Victorian doctor with access to things like powdered jackalope antler and a noted preference for coca derivatives over opiates where he deems appropriate...d'you think we should swap out Carl's phobia penalty for a fatigue level of Mister Kite?]]

Itza-chu's trail is easily to find, even in the darkness. The Apache was still bleeding from the shot in his shoulder and was making bad time. Charging Bear follows the blood trail down the twisting, serpentine tunnel, and hears a pained grunting from up ahead.

He can't see anything, of course, but who else would be down here?

---

"The indians did something to themselves. Some kind o' ritual. There was a scientist back in town I talked to, told me that he'd taken a picture of all the braves while captured, a picture that came out all colored, though he wasn't sure how. Their holy man took it and did something with it, and now the indians have grey skin like a photograph and can't be killed. I shot one of them right between the eyes and he didn't flinch!"

He continues, "I think we have to find the photograph and destroy it. We were tracking the shaman and his band, and the trail lead us here. I think they're somewhere up ahead."

There's a great deal of worried muttering from the Dust Adders at this.

Augustus, the scientist, looks up from his examination of the wall. "Unkillable Apache? Rubbish. That's just not possible." he frowns. "Well, yes...theoretically, that might be the case, but...well, it worked on their horses, so we never did have to actually fight them, did we?"

Ward, on the other hand, is deep in thought. "Sympathetic transference." he mutters.

((OOC: Sure. Have a -1 Fatigue penalty for being in a Happy Place, which will wear off after about 4 hours.))
This message was last edited by the player at 13:51, Fri 17 May 2013.

Carl nods at Murphy's assertions and Mike's quiet response as to how long he'd been out. He has an idea there's something he can do now, but it takes concentration to grasp it. "...'ey feel." Carl gestures catching his throat, the bandaged wound to his skull. "..."

He fights to corral his thoughts. "'s another Chargin' Bear injun. Immortal." The wrangler gestures onward at the dark, aware in the same echoey, dreamlike way that he is angry, or hungry, or probably both. "..."

[[Some kind of CK roll for Mike/anyone else who's worked down here?]]

((OOC: Alrighty. Heavy Henry was a miner, so he gets a +2 bonus on the roll (which is good, because he's an Extra and thus doesn't get a Wild Die). Mike just makes a straight roll.))

[[21:00, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 5 using 1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 3. mine knowledge!
21:01, Today: Mike Bennett rolled 2,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1. mine knowledge! *snerk* I think Mike's forgotten what the inside of a mine looks like.]]

In reply to Itza-Chu (msg # 150):

Charging Bear pauses at the next bend and drops to a crouching position. "Ain't gonna do me no good going down here in the dark. Any light will give me away but I can't let Itza-Chu go, he's got to answer for what he's done." The native son stays in a crouch and tries to continues following the trail he's on.

"What was that, Carl? Another Charging Bear? Who's the original Charging Bear?"
The small irishman sounds confused.

Mike glances at Carl, who keeps trying to shake his head clear like a dog with water in its ears.

"Some Cherokee Evans hired on for bein' fight-crazy - Percy saved him from one o' the Yankees that turned walker, awhile before some big negro bounty hunter rolled up with charges on th' Injun for rape, murder an' battery."

"...'ern't him," Carl scrapes out, heading on where Henry indicated. "Ranger got word back from Austin - Apache." That word alone would change the track of the Dust Adders' suspicion, but there was more. Oh, there was more.

"Grey injuns drug me t'him for some kind o' devil-sacrifice - torture. Not jes' men. Women. Kids. 'Time I was took there, this Chargin' Bear'd kilt Jeb, nailed Anne Sutler to a wheel an' was still nailin' her - like it was passtime t'him." Carl looks across as Tex lumbers up, anger cutting through the drifting sensation like ice water through sand. He makes a small gesture to Mike, who twitches an eyebrow at him but takes up the talk. Anger could do for courage in a pinch.

"You remember Mrs.Sutler, Tex? Let you hold them pippin' chickens?" It wasn't many homesteaders that would risk a basketful of future dinners on Tex's clumsy hands and temper, but the giant had seemed enchanted by the beeping yellow fuzz of life. "Injuns hurt her, Tex. Hurt her real bad. Hurt Jeb to death. They're gonna need a whole lot of bashin' to stay down - you good for that?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:34, Sun 23 June 2013.

"Excuse me!" Augustus piped up.  "I appear to be bleeding.  Does anyone have an adequate pressure bandage?  No, it's not that serious.  Yes, I'm sure we'll be fine once we get patched up."

Not one to be deterred by darkness, the native son presses on and began moving deeper into the mine sans light. His other senses attempting to make up for the lack of illumination. He holsters the pistol he'd been holding and draws both of his tomahawks. The weapons put Charging Bear almost at ease instantly, something to do with their familiar weight in his hands. His hand does pause to touch the rabbit's foot on his neck, next to the doll he's always worn. The fetish and the toy remind him of what he's been though and has manage to come out still standing ... mostly.

OOC:
09:11, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,16 using 1d6-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 4,(6+6+5)17. Notice (-1 Fatigue).