"Well, looks like we might not have to fight all the bad people. Just convince them that they need to stop feeding ghost rock to a magical demon-snake and then maybe only kill some of them. The vampire, I guess. Maybe some Dust Adders."

"If y'all harm a mortal, self is not required to protect you," Alouette warns, with a certain implication it might do the opposite.

"Some mortals might try to harm us when we try to take out Marina and the big snake, though."
Pierce points out.

"So what's the plan, now, Marshal? Ride to the ranch, ask Ward to stop feeding the big snake in the barn and if he refuses, we start shooting? Or what exactly?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:11, Mon 06 May 2013.

"That is the plan, unless you have a better one."

"Self can tell them not to," Alouette tells William.

"Depends. Can somebody give the layout of the buildings and whatnot?"



He shrugs. "Alright. If it's that easy. But then what about Marina?"

Also: What time is it? Am I about to find out if I burst into flames in sunlight?

"So you'd defend a mortal, even if they're - as you put it 'a bad man', over one of us?" he asked Alouette. He figured it was important to figure out exactly where the clank stood on this issue.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Mon 06 May 2013.

"Primary command: protect," Alouette affirms. "Primary command is minus limitation to sex, species, race, or morality. Priority: mortals, secondary priority: differently alive, teritary priority: lost souls, spectres, small spirits, ghost friends."

"If Pierce William Pierce will hold Danny Albatross tightly self can do pointing," it offers the vampire. The question of Marina merits a little ticking thought. "Pierce William Pierce can tell the mortals to stand in a different place, then throw holy grenades at her," it suggests.

"But, and not that I'm going to go after it - but it might just come up because there's a history - were I to enter into a conflict with the Seven of Spades, you'd side with him because he's a 'mortal'?" he asked, scratching his chin while considering the matter.

"Self would prevent Deputy Vega from causing harm to mortal, and warn mortal of consequences of causing harm to Deputy Vega," the clank clarifies, insofar as anything can be clarified by the clank.

"So basically deputy clankenbot won't let people harm each other if'n it can help it." Jake mused then with a rather sarcastic tone said, "Seems like it'll be very busy should the injins arrive." He shifted his glaze to the automaton, "What would you do should a group of people be fightin' one another? As such will soon be the case I've a feeling"

"Self can tell the Pure Blooded Comanches to shoo if they come back for arrested Comanches before self is removed from Blackthorn, Texas," Alouette assures Jake.

"Self would tell them to stop fighting, and that continuation may occasion a Writ of Restraint, whooping the ass of a man and/or arrest," the clank informs him cheerfully.

The huckster pondered the clank's words for a moment, or at least appeared to. "I wish you much luck in that, though I wonder when you're not here who's to protect these good folks. I digress. We're here talkin' bout headin' out to Wards and dealing with the pointy toothed dancing gals, right?"

"Heading to the ranch, yes. Hoping not to deal with any more of the dancing girls, but I'm preparing for the worst." Evans says. "Who would like some bottled sunlight?" He holds up his makeshift whiskey-bottle grenades.

"Reckon I'll take one."
If only for making sure that it's not going to be thrown at me.

"Also, have you got any of that holy water left? Dipping my bullets into them might be useful as well."

Jake nodded to Evans, "Sure but I'm expectin' every thing of evil to possibly mildly bad within a twenty square mile area to have randomly wandered over to that ranch... just seems to be the luck of this place."

"The other angel Ranger Hawkins can tell the Comanches to shoo if they return in abscence of self," Alouette assures Jake with remarkable confidence in a single, newly-fledged Texas Ranger.

"Not luck, Bitter Waters: witchcraft," the clank corrects, with mechanical patience. "The little demons come to eat minor negative energies from aetheric disruptions, then the bigger demons come to eat those and lost souls, and cause plus plus disruption...then the crow-spirits come, for the scraps."

"Thanks for that reassurance." Jakes said with an eyeroll that would probably have gotten him slap in his youth.

"Well, I can shoot pretty good, but I'm not such a good hand at throwin', but I might could take a hand at it if'n we need me to," he said.

Evans hands a bottle each to William and Adrian and hands the last one to Father O'Rourke.

"I don't have any holy water left to spare, I'm afraid." He says to William. "I need the rest of it for my flame-throwing device." The boiler begins to wail faintly, like a teakettle left on the stove...or a damned soul being torched in the fires of hell. "Well, we're as ready as we're going to be, I'm afraid. We should probably get going before the steam wail draws attention."

((OOC: The Bottled Sunlight Grenades act like the blast power. You make a Throwing roll to try and land it where you wish, otherwise it deviates. They have a range of 5/10/20 and deal 3d4 damage in a Medium Burst Template. This counts as a Heavy Weapon. On your next action, it deals 2d4 damage (unless the victim takes an action to wash off or strip out of the covered area). It can ignite flammable objects (6 on a d6, or 4-6 for very flammable objects like dry straw) and creates a glow on the target that negates darkness penalties until the stuff stops dealing damage. This glow is equivalent to natural sunlight with regard to creatures harmed by it. If you roll a 1 on your Throwing die (regardless of the Wild Die), the bomb goes off in your hand, and you become the center of the burst, suffering all the effects above.))

He took the bottle in one hand, and sort of shrugged, holding onto it, not knowing quite what to make of it. Adrian, leaned down and picked up one of the fallen shards of wood, sticking it in his belt - just in case.

"Saddle up," he said, looking at the others, drawing his gun. "Lock and load." He didn't say much more at the moment, getting into the steamwagon.

"Father O'Rourke can make lots of things plus godfulness," Alouette points out. It looks around for the saddle that is up, but seems to presume the lock is already loaded and just waits.

It doesn't appear to have any intention of getting on the wagon, but considering it's not going to get tired running along and that it's carrying a lad who might just turn into an all-consuming fiend at some unspecified time, that's probably a good thing.

Jake glanced around wishing he'd had his horse. He took a moment to check his pistol then stepped onto the wagon, else he'd have to run rather fast.

"Guess we'd best get movin' if we're going to be of any good."

John was not terribly stealthy, at least not like some of the natives he had encountered, or some of the practitioners of the Black Arts of Gung Fu his sifu had told him about, but he had a way of going unnoticed by simple merit of being silent and keeping his thoughts to himself. He wasn't dumb, per se, but his time being nursed back to health from whatever event had stolen his memory, made him think long and hard about things, often giving the illusion of simplicity. In any case, while he couldn't sneak up on most people, he tended to fade into the background when he felt he had nothing to contribute.

As the discussion went on he thought of his part in it. He wanted nothing to do with the bottled sunlight they had discussed, so he didn't ask for one, and hoped to stay well clear of it when it went off. He also was considering their 'enemies'. He had saved Abrahams life, and while he might not hold as much value on life as Alouette, he had been taught that it meant he was somewhat responsible for that life. The Doctor had also risked himself in helping him save his Sifu, and while honor was something sketchy at best, he had an obligation towards the man to some degree, one that was modified in no small part by his Sifu's continued presence on the Ranch. Things were getting complication.

"Abraham and the Chinaman, my Sifu, shouldn't be harmed." He said to no one in particular. "I should warn you, I'll defend against him when necessary and if'n I'm able, but I cannot raise an offensive hand against Dr. Ward himself unless absolutely necessary. He saved Sifu when he had no cause to, even risked himself and his people t'do so, I owe him that much." he said, looking finally at Evans. "Just layin' my cards out on the table as it were."

"I will endeavor to avoid harming them, if at all possible." Evans says as he puts the steam wagon into gear. "The key words being, if possible. I'm not looking for trouble, but somehow...somehow, I always seem to find it."

And with that, the steam wagon rolls out of the stables and down the road.

((OOC: This thread is now closed. Please resume posting on the Chapter 17.2: The Hollow Men thread.))