Past Midnight. April 12th, 1879. The Wendell Mine

Charging Bear creeps in the darkness, navigating completely by feel and sound. Itza-chu is quiet...but not quiet enough. Charging Bear creeps closer to the ragged breathing he hears, blades ready.

Then, suddenly, there's a flare of light. Charing Bear's night vision is wiped out in the hiss of sulpher as the match gutters, but he catches sight of a human shape in grey war paint...at least, that's what he thinks he sees. Then the match touches on an oil-soaked rag wrapped around a branch, and a torch flares to life.

The torchlight illumines the rock face. Seems of ghost rock peak out of rock formations in the wall. Stalactites shaped like skeletons being crushed in the coils of giant serpents rise from the ground as a pair of grey-skinned COmanche warriors reveal themselves. It's not that they've been painted...their skin is bleached of all color, as if the two warriors had stepped out of a photograph.

Itza-chu lies battered and bloody on the ground, frozen at the sight of the two warriors. He raises a hand to them, as if pleading for help.

The two warriors shrug, then one tosses his brand at the ceiling above the wounded Apache. The air suddenly grows hot as the brand strike a pocket of gas, and the last sight Charging Bear sees before the walls come down is Itza-chu screaming in a sea of blue-orange flames...

((OOC: CB is effectively blind here, so he has a -6 penalty on anything involving vision. That means his 16 notice is downgraded to 10...still quite a nice roll. Itza-chu is trying to be stealthy. He has a +2 bonus for crawling, +4 for the pitch darkness, and -3 for his wounds.

00:24, Today: Itza-Chu rolled 5,8 using d8+3,d6+3, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5. Stealth! CB manages to catch on to Itza-chu's trail.

However, he fails to notice the Comanche Raiders laying in wait here...until they strike matches, light their torches, and toss them up into the collected Ghost Rock fumes in this part of the cavern!

Roll Agility (-2) to get clear of the cave-in they just caused.))

---

Dr. Ward treats Augustus' wounds. The wounds are slight, and oddly don't hurt that much, but they are bothersome, and it's good to have fully-functioning limbs again.

Heavy Henry knows that the 4 ways are actually 3...the passage to the left is just a short dead end. The passage to the North leads to a maze of tunnels that wind everywhere under the town, and are easy to get lost in, but there was talk of the tunnels breaking through to a cavern shortly before the accident.

The tunnel to the right leads to some tunnels that intersect into a series of natural caverns. It might be the quickest way to the heart of the maze...or it would be if there wasn't a rumbling coming from that direction...

Charging Bear covered his eyes as best he could but the flash of light nearly blinds him. The native son didn't really have time to reflect on the situation at hand as there was an explosion going on. Turning quickly, Charging Bear dived back up the tunnel hoping for the best ...

OOC:
09:32, Today: Charging Bear rolled -1,-1 using 1d8-3,1d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 2,2. Agility (-2 GM, -1 Fatigue).
Burning a white chip to reroll that mess. Which give me a +2 thanks to Elan
09:32, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,2 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,3. White Chip reroll.

The rocks fall, but Charging Bear doesn't die. He doesn't know what happened to Itza-chu, though there was no way he could see the villainous Apache surviving that now that his magic protection had been removed.

But the grey-skinned Comanches weren't done with Charging Bear yet. Charging Bear sees torchlight in the dust, headed his way...

((OOC: Draw a card for initiative!))

OOC: 1 card as requested
13:36, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: 10S using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative.

The eerie grey Comanche sweep in, tomahawks flashing in the light of the torches they carry. One swings low, and Charging Bear is easily able to block it. The other catches him across the back, but the blade only succeeds in ripping CB's already tattered shirt.

((OOC: The die roller still hates you. The Comanche get KD.

They rush you, but since you're using your Relics, they don't get a Gang-up bonus on you.

10:43, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 1,10 using d8,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(8+2)10. Fighting!

One misses, so you get your Counterattack against him. The other hits.

10:45, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 1,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. Damage. That's 3. That's not even enough to seriously inconvenience the Native Son.

Next round: 10C))

This is a dance Charging Bear know's well. He shifts his postion as best he can to put a wall to his back so his two foes can't gang up. His blades lash out at the Apache who's attack he blocked but the native son's own movements make his tomahawk come up short.

Charging Bear slashes at both of the Apache, but only manages to hit one of them. His tomahawks almost hum in his hands, their time in the spirit world seemed to have some sort of affect on them.

OOC:
Counter attack 13:53, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,3 using 1d10,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,3. Fighting (+1TMW, +1Flou, -2 Counter). Miss!
I go before them so here's my two attacks
13:55, Today: Charging Bear rolled 7,4,6,1 using 1d10+1,1d6+1,1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,3,7,2. Fighting (+1TMW+1Flou-2 Offhand,-1Fati).
1 hit, 1 miss
13:57, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,1 using 1d8+3,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1. Damage (Str,Tomahawk, +2weapon +1 Grim).
7 damage ... that shakes?

13:58, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: 4H using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative.
Going late next round

The Dust Adders tense at the sound of falling rock; there's an odd moment of utter silence and simultaneous self-crossing. Even Carl, caught in a loop of feeling the same sensation as when a dream is realised to be a dream and the realisation he's awake, over and over, feels a distant spike of terror.

Heavy Henry sticks his shotgun under his arm and takes a quick drink from his canteen, gesturing at the tunnel whence the ominous noises came. "That way...we might could follow the old watercourses straight down to the big cavern that's s'posed to be at the deep-down...where the front was at the time o' the..." he glanced at the ceiling, eyes flicking involuntarily to the piles of bone. "...Yeah."

Carl nods, aware of the likelihood of human action down that way and the equal liklihood of a dead end, gestures to the tunnel he's already left a looping trail of blood around.

"Straight on, reckon we could get there as quick if'n we knew where we were headed."

"Don't look at me," Mike says, raising an eyebrow. "I was a trap boy 'til I started haulin' over on Five."

Heavy Henry shifts uncomfortably. "You got a compass, Doc?"

"-anyone bring a candle? If the Comanch' never set draw fires..." Mike trailed off, not wanting to remind the boys that every breath counted double for the length of a man's life underground. Still, better to know of 'heavy air' that presaged a gas pocket before walking into it with lights...not only did explosions run the risk of horrendous burns and rockfall, but were quite capable of burning up all the air in an entire passageway depending on position and depth.

"A candle?  What would you want such an old fashioned contrivance for?  No, I'm sure it's because they don't know any better.  If you give me a few moments, I'm sure I can whip up something to generate light."

Mike glances at the others. "'Cause a candle'll start burnin' with a real small flame if we're 'bout to run into a pocket of blackdamp," he explains, then realises the greenhorn probably doesn't even know that much.

"- kinda like solid dark, I guess. Puts fire out an'...chokes a man fast as drowning, somethin' to do with the coal soot after an explosion. Candle'll also burn reddish headed for a pocket o' lead fumes, which're bad poison. How 'bout you jes' work on making sure that...hummy weapon thing'll be good against the Comanch', huh? That and aiming it." He nods over at Murphy, whom the distracted scientist had forgotten to apologise to after blasting the little Irishman across the cavern.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg # 6):

The Comanche hit by Charging Bear's blade stagges black, dark black blood oozing from his grey skin, but the cut is shallow and doesn't seem to have injured him much. Still, he seems surprised that the native son can, in fact, hurt him at all.

The other one screams a war cry that echoes down the tunnel as he charges the Native Son. His blade lashes out, but Charging Bear is easily able to deflect it.

((OOC: That will make the Comanche shaken, yes. As the turn starts, he rolls to Unshake.

00:54, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 2 using 1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 2. unshake. No, he does not unshake.

The one who still can fight leaps at CB and swings his Tomahawk. 00:55, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 5 using 1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 5. Fighting! That comes nowhere near CB's Parry.))

---

CB, your turn

A piercing, screaming war cry can be heard from the tunnel the collapse had come from.

"Ready yourselves!" Ward says. "We have company!"

"If you'll give me a moment.  Yes, just a moment.  This won't take long.  Ah-ha!  Here we go!"  The doctor raised a heavily modified shotgun and pointed it in the general direction of the enemies.  "Now, where are they?"

"Oy, bloody hell...." Murphy mutters.
"Come on, Carl, you need to take cover!"

He pully his pistol with his right, with his left hand grabbing Carl's arm, gently dragging him to the back.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:25, Thu 12 Sept 2013.

Charging Bear presses what little advantage he has, his twin blades slicing the air in measured arcs attempting to find their target.

OOC: Sorry for holding everyone else up.
08:36, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,2,8,4 using 1d10+1,1d6+1,1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1,9,5. Fighting (+1TMW+1Flou-2 Offhand,-1Fati).
That 8 will hit I believe
08:38, Today: Charging Bear rolled 4,2 using 1d8+3,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. Damage (Str,Tomahawk, +2weapon +1 Grim).
my 6 vs their 8 ... not enough to even shake 'em.

08:40, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: QC using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative .

Carl stares at his grabbed arm as though momentarily failing to connect its sudden desire to be elsewhere with Murphy holding on to it. Murphy...he'd had a dream with Murphy in, hadn't he? No, this was the dream with Murphy in, this nightmare about a mine, maybe he should tell him...

Carl's rational mind hammers on the barrier of morphine-induced vagueness with about as much effect as a man screaming through a five-deep barricade of cotton bales. Instinct does better, managing to form a few raw outlines of ideas: Don't die.

Fair enough. What else? Keep moving. Carl realises again he's being dragged, considers biting that hand, realises it's Murphy and that they're going away from something. Comanches. Carl grips the cold anger that comes with the thought, focusing. His free hand flicks in a sharp series of gestures, pain sparking in distant needles from his fractured clavicle. "..."

In reply to Charging Bear (msg # 14):

The raider hisses in pain...those fancy shirts of theirs only protect against the white man's weapons, not the blades of the native son.

The pair of Comanches charge him again, but Charging Bear is ready for them. his blades whirl and sing as he blocks their blows and counters their attacks with ease.

((OOC: Actually, the 8 toughness only applies vs guns. For all other attacks, their toughness is 6. Than means you got the guy Shaken.

The Comanche roll to unshake: 11:32, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 4,4 using d8,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4. unshake. That gives them an action, but at -2.

They charge CB again (they're Overconfident, after all). 11:33, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 5,4 using d8,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 5,4. Fighting! CB fends them off with ease.

Card: 8D))

---

CB, you're up!

Charging Bear smiles as the pair charge him, foolishness that it was. He ducks under one attack and lands a strike of his own, only to over reach and miss the pair with his own attacks.

OOC: Don't forget my counter attack :)
14:48, Today: Charging Bear rolled 9,4 using 1d10,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 9,4. Fighting (+1TMW, +1Flou, -2 Counter).
Forgot my -1 for fatigue but that's a hit.
14:51, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,1 using 1D8+3,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1. Damage (Str,Tomahawk,+2 weapon +1 Grim).
7 damage is shaken!

Time for more two handed fighting goodness!
14:55, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,6,5,1 using 1d10+1,1d6+1,1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5,6,2. Fighting (+1TMW+1Flou-2 Offhand,-1Fati).
Cursed fatigue doing me in! With only 2 chips ... I'm going to let that go.

15:00, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: 5D using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative.
Looks like they go first.

The one hit by Charging Bear's counterattack falls back, still a bit surprised at the native Son's ability to hurt him. The other one throws himself into a fury, slashing and chopping with wild abandon against Charging Bear.

((OOC: 19:03, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 3 using 1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 3. unshake. Nope. He remains Shaken.

The remaining Comanche attacks, this time with a Wild Attack 9lowering his Parry by 2)

19:04, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 11 using 1d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of (8+1)9. Fighting! (with Wild Attack). hit, no Raise.

Damage: 17. Shaken and 2 wounds

Card: AC. Yeah, they'll go first, but resolve the wounds first.))

As the group proceeds into the tunnels, following the rail car tracks, Ward frowns. "The sounds do not seem to be getting closer...do you think it's possible that someone else is down here?"

"Hell yes... Looks like everybody else is, too." Murphy mutters.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:25, Thu 12 Sept 2013.

OOC: Sure ... burn a red chip to soak
09:34, Today: Charging Bear rolled 8,4 using 1d8+1,1d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3. Soak (+2 Elan, -1 Fatigue).
That should soak both!

---

Charging Bear shifts his weight and hips to avoid what appeared to be a most impressive attack by the Comanche. The native son feels a rather stiff breeze as his foe's weapon misses him by the smallest of margins.

Mike, hanging back with the crazy tinhorn scientist, looks anxiously into the dark, then back, catching Ward's suggestion. "Them Enlightn'd Masons were told to stay put...could be Gabby, I guess...hell of a time to be sneakin' Rock..."

He looks to Augustus. "Most like they're but fighting among themselves, but could be there's a townsman back there, or someone they've captured got away - want t'go look an' test out that blastative gun o' your'n on some grey Comanch'?"

"Well, I suppose one test subject is as good as another.  My last test subject was very cooperative.  No, don't tell them it was my mother's dressmaking dummy!  They might think we're crazy!  Oh, but don't worry, I'm sure it'll work this time.  Let's go!"  Augustus started to follow Mike, his gun wavering in all directions.

"Uh...sure..." Mike leads on towards the sound of fighting, pistol leading and light held low behind him.

((OOC: Mike, Augustus, draw cards so I know where to place you in initiative order.

Murphy, Carl,various Dust Adders: you guys are moving into an area of twisty, difficult-to-navigate tunnels. Even with Heavy Henry and the other Dust Adders who once mined there to help, it's not going to be easy to pick a route. One of you will need to roll Tracking (-2). This is a Cooperative check, so one guy does the main roll. The others can roll to assist. Ned and Heavy Henry have been here before, so they take no penalty on the roll (though they're defaulting). Ward has never been this deep, so he's not likely to be much help (and he has no Tracking besides). Tex has been here, and does, in fact, have some Tracking.

So, who wants to be the main roller, and who wants to just assist?))

02:30, Today: Augustus Spotswood drew the single card: 7C using a deck of 54 cards. Init.

Murpphy might be able to assist, but he's no talent for tracking.

[[Tex can do the main roll, since he has the skill. Round of failure from my fellas:
12:17, Today: Carl Allans rolled -2,2 using d4-5,d6-5, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+1)7. getting very lost.

12:17, Today: Heavy Henry rolled -1 using 1d4-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1. more navigation!

12:16, Today: Ned rolled 3 using 1d4-2, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5. navigation!

I threw their Joker white at it to no effect, but my notes are confused as to whether they have any other chips, so. General failure, I'm afraid.

12:13, Today: Mike Bennett drew the single card: 7D using a deck of 54 cards. init.]]

Turn Order:
Comanche Raiders: AC
Mike Bennett: 7D
Augustus Spotswood: 7C
Charging Bear: 5D

Looks like the Comanches go first, so I'll go for their actions in a bit. Murph, were you going to try to assist the Tracking roll, even with a Default penalty?

Carl notes a pale scrap on the tunnel floor and lifts it, absently curious.

[[All right, to make you happy I threw Carl's last, blue chip at that roll for a 2 that nets the Adders 1 sucess. we'll call it a sketch map, since he has no reason to know his way about.]]

The piece of paper Carl picked up seems to be some sort of crude map of the tunnels. It's poorly drawn, probably inaccurate as hell, dirty and bloodstained. Carl can't make out the writing, either. But at least it's a clue.

The wounded Comanche continues to stare at the mild injury inflicted by Charging Bear's blades. <"This is not possible! Pale Moon said we could not be hurt!">
he babbles.

<"Cannot be hurt by the white man."> His companion growls. <"This blood traitor may have betrayed his people by working with the palefaces, but he is as red as us."> his eyes blaze as he comes at Charging Bear again. <"And I will see you dead for your betrayal! YEEEEEEEEAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!">

he swings wildly at Charging Bear, but The Native son is grwoing used to this one's movements, and easily parries the blows.

As Mike grows closer, he hears a familiar voice. "Mike? Hot damn! It's good to see you, man!" It's Jeb! His voice is faint, but it's definitely him. "We got trouble. Comanche up in here plannin' the end o' the world or somethin'. Remember the Injun from town? Well, turns out, he's on our side. He's fightin' some o' them Comanche right now. They're all grey...seems to make 'em immune to bullets somehow. Chargin' Bear...that's the guy fightin', not the guy under the rubble, that one was the bad one that was doin' all that rapin' that folk riled...anyhow, the good Chargin' Bear got these blades that had some Injun Magic done to 'em, so they can hurt the Comanche."

((OOC: The turn starts with a raider attempting to unshake.

21:46, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 3 using 1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 3. unshake. Again, he fails.

The other comanche Wild Attacks. 21:57, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 4 using 1d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of 2. Fighting! (with Wild Attack). No hitter.))

---

It's Mike's turn!

Mike startles, first at the bloodcurdling yell from down the tunnel, then Jeb seeming to speak nearby. "Jeb?! Jeb, where are you? We thought you were dead, Carl-"

He frowns and strains to listen as Jeb goes on. "Yeah, we were headin' up towards y'all anyhow. Is the other Chargin' Bear gonna stay down?" Motioning the scientist along, Mike sets into a jog, light still low at his side to illuminate without making a target of themselves.

The movement fails to bring them level with a whispering Dust Adder, though. "Where the Hell are you, Jeb?" he hisses softly, aware they're about to come up on the fight.

[[Running:
18:14, Today: Mike Bennett rolled 14 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+2)14. running! ...I take that's a 6? Can we see CB now?
init: 7H]]

"Actually...you weren't wrong." Jeb's sounds a bit bashful. "Looks like I done got myself kilt. But Charging Bear, he done saved my immortal soul from Perdition, and I helped him get his Name back. I dunno how long I got before I move on to the Great Beyond, but I reckon I can at least give ya some advice and guidance afore I go." The voice sighs. "I dunno. I saw him get buried by the rock slide. I seen him survive worse, but Charging Bear took his Name back so he can actually hurt the fucker, and he had done. Fella was fair crawling to begin with. So I think he's out o' the fight for now, but I ain't 100% for sure."

((OOC: Yes, and with that roll, you can get close enough to attack, as well, albiet with a -2 MAP))

Mike is silent a while, a dozen emotions burning through him in a heartbeat.

"You...you're a ghost? A real...?" He licks his lips and concentrates his senses ahead, getting a grip if not really understanding all the name buisness. "Shit, man...well, I guess if he saved your soul somehow we owe him one...you, you take care, y'hear? All kinds o' black magic goin' down. Bad enough you're...yeah. Don't lose your chance at Heaven. If you're here. Fuck it, I hope I ain't crackin' up...can you...walk through walls? Move stuff? There's some shaman right down deep with the photograph that turns these bastards bulletproof, if you can get at him."

[[Hell no, not aiming for melee with 'em, Mike's just the scientist's light source/not-entirely-effective backup.]]

Carl stares at the scrap of paper, but the words evade him and the tunnel-ends just try to develop writhing snake heads if he squints, so he hands it to Murphy. "?"


[[care for a helpful direction-finding roll?]]

"You think I can make heads and tails of this?"
Murphy scratches his forehead.
"Well, let's see..."

Smarts?

22:03, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 14,10 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,(6+4)10. White chip.
22:03, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 2,1 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1. Map-figuring-out.

The map looks like it might have been made by one of the miners who wound up in this pit, probably an exploration of the tunnels made by the men in a desperate attempt to find another way out. The writing is large enough to be seen in low light.

If the map is to be believed, the spot marked "Injun Artifacts" is probably the crack in the ground where Carl and he entered the mines in the first place. The place marked "Out" is likely the main mineshaft. The space marked "Death!" is the cave-in--that would have been fresh in the mind of the miners. The Central Hub is where they are right now. The passage marked "unstable" is where they heard the rocks fall and the sounds of battle--knowing miners have a healthy respect for unstable areas, they probably wouldn't have explored that system of tunnels until they got desperate. The branching tunnels probably represent the silver mines. There seem to be two caverns ahead--one that was the main silver vein, and that area marked "Motherlode" is probably the recently-discovered Ghost Rock lode, the one the miners found just before the Cave-in. The note about "No Way Out Except Death!" is probably desperation talking.

This map might be helpful getting through the tunnels to either lode. If Murphy were a betting man, he'd lay odds that the trouble centers on the motherlode. This map should be helpful getting through the warren of tunnels to the lode.

((OOC: The map will aid in navigation. Instead of making Tracking rolls to find your way, you may make Smarts checks. Any penalties that would apply to Tracking rolls apply to the Smarts roll instead.))

The Dust Adders gather round the map, but they seem to have less idea than Murphy where North has got to. Carl keeps looking back up the tunnel, frowning at Mike's lack of re-appearance.

[[18:50, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 3,1 using d6-2,d6-2 Navigatin': Henry, Ned.

18:51, Today: Carl Allans rolled 2,2 using d6-3,d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5. ditto. Yarr...

The Dust Adders continue to be useless and out of chips. At least Murphs got a couple of raises to start with.]]

"Seems that way." Jeb's voice replies. "I can move through spaces, but not walls--leastways, not the ones with Ghost Rock in 'em. They scream at me somethin' awful, and the seams feel like they's tryin' to suck me in...anyways, I tried tocuhin' things, but I can't seem to get a grip. So I might be able to help you find things, but it looks like I can't do much more 'n scout. And...I get the feelin' that there's things in these tunnels. Things that could hurt even a ghost like me. Ya'll be careful."

It's Augustus' action next, if all Mike's doing is running and getting exposition.

In reply to Heavy Henry (msg # 39):

Ward also takes a turn examining the map. "Hmmm..." he looks around. "Well. Let's think this through logically. The ghost rock wasn't found until right up near the accident, I'd assume, because if there was a motherlode, then the Wendall company wouldn't have abandoned the place. I'd gather that the seams of ghost rock were revealed by the explosion that caused the collapse." he looks over at the rail. "That means the rail is going off into the older parts of the mine, which were getting played out. The ghost rock would be around the newer tunnels. I would hazard that if we followed the rail until the ghost rock seam diverged from it, we would find our way to this 'motherlode.'"

((OOC: Yay uselessness! Murphy still has to roll, and rest assured that even if all of you fail, you'll at least get somewhere. It's just that failing the roll means you get to a random destination instead of the one you were aiming for. There are also clues around that might be helpful to notice.

Tex, Ward, and Spanish Joe will attempt rolls. Ward has an extra circumstance penalty, because he's not good at navigating underground like this. unlike the rest of you, Joe actually has Tracking, but it's the same as his Smarts, and he's an Extra. Tex...well, the best that can be said for Tex is that he can try.

15:11, Today: The Stray, for the NPC Spanish Joe, rolled 3 using 1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 5. Tracking. Nope.

15:18, Today: Tex rolled 3,1 using d4-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5,3. Smarts. I am so smart! I am so smart! S M R T! I mean, S M A R T!

15:20, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward rolled 7,-3 using d10-4,d6-4, rerolling max with rolls of (10+1)11,1. Smarts. huh. Better direction sense than I would have guessed.))

[[22:56, Today: Carl Allans rolled 4,2 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3. Notice? ecksdee high Carl is observant. ]]

Augustus raises his scattergun.  "Take this, you!  No, not you, them."  The sounds of battle are blown away as waves of sonic energy blast out of his gun, at the Indians.  The sheer force of the wall of sound sends them reeling.

Got a 21 to hit:

21:04, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 19,21 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+6+1)19,(6+6+6+3)21. Shooting (Pummel).
This message was last edited by the player at 04:05, Tue 03 Dec 2013.

The roaring, discordant triple trombone blare of the device catches the Comanche completely off-guard, and they're sent hurtling into the pile of rubble blocking the passage from the rest of the tunnels.

((OOC: 21 is a raise and then some. All the targets in the pummel range need to make a Strength check (-2) or be sent flying.

21:14, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled -1,0 using d8-2,d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. Strength! Yeah, they go flying.

Since the nearest wall is right next to them, they don't move much. They get knocked into it and are Shaken and Prone.

Card for next round, Augustus?))

---

Charging Bear, you need to make a Strength check (-2) to avoid being sent flying as well. Then it's your turn.

Oops:
22:30, Today: Augustus Spotswood drew the single card: 2D using a deck of 54 cards. Init.

"Aye, doc, sounds reasonable. Plus, Carl and me know they're not hiding out there."
He points to the areas the two of them had "explored".
As another shot rings out, Murphy swears under his breath.
"Jesus, Mary and bloody Joseph! Haven't we put them all down yet? We have to find that bloody shaman with that bloody picture! And Carl could use a bandage or two, too, doc."

OOC: CB's counter attack
10:50, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,3 using 1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 7,4. Fighting (+1TMW, +1Flou, -2 Counter -1 F).
Misses and now CB vs Pummel
10:15, Today: Charging Bear rolled -1,3 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. Strength.
Yeah that ain't cool ... red chip to reroll
10:16, Today: Charging Bear rolled 2,8 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,(6+2)8. Strength - Red Chip reroll +2 from Elan Edge.

---

Batting away the Raider's attack leaves an opening for Charging Bear's attack, but he doesn't manage to connect. Then the sudden and deafening noise and blast of air threatens to send Charging Bear spinning , but the native son keeps his wits about him. Using his twin tomahawks he anchors himself to the wall. Once the thunderous cacophony of music ends, Charging Bear sees his foes fallen to the ground he pounces at the chance to end the current fight.

OOC: Attacking each of the prone Raiders
11:17, Today: Charging Bear rolled 8,10,11,3 using 1d10+1,1d6+1,1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 7,(6+3)9,(10+2)12,4. Fighting (+1TMW+1Flou-2 Offhand,-1Fati).
Those both should be hits w/ raises as being prone is -2 to parry
11:19, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,4,5,10,2,2 using 1d8+3,1d6,1d6,1d8+3,1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4,5,7,2,2. Damage (Str,Tomahawk,Rise,+2Weapon +1 Grim.
First is 10(15 if raise) second is 12 (14 if raise)

11:20, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: QS using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative .

The warriors scream as Charging Bear attacks them. His enchanted blades slice into their grey flesh. Dark grey blood flows.

<"Enough!"> one shouts. <"Please! I surrender I surrender!">

((OOC: Those are both Raises for CB, because of being Prone, so that's 2 wounds apiece. It doesn't kill them, because they're immortal unless the picture is destroyed, but since wounds against them are converted to Fatigue, they both wind up Exhausted. They aren't incapacitated, but the one who has been Shaken this whole fight has had enough.))

Charging Bear eyes the pair, not sure if their cries are genuine or not. He takes a step away from where the noise and wind came from attempting to see who or what is coming towards them.

OOC: Ending my turn with a little movement to size up the situation, if I can anyways.

Mike breaks into a grin and claps Augustus on the back, a little awkwardly since finding some back free of gadgetry is a challenge at present. "Good shot!"

He steps forward a pace with the light. "We can only die..." he murmurs to the ghost, or possibly himself, before raising his voice, stance and tone wary. "You finished 'em, Bear?"

[[Talking! Are we out of combat?]]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Tue 03 Dec 2013.

"Bok bok bok?" Heavy Henry gently mocks Murphy's mother-henning, but looks to Ward. "All right, lead on boss, I guess."

Carl picks up a rock, stares at it a while trying to get his brain to understand the connection between object and action, then scratches a trail-mark on the wall, prepared to move on presently if not keen to leave Mike way back.


[[did that notice roll show up anything useful, Stray?]]

<"Coward."> The other Comanche growls.

<"No. No more."> The first one babbles. <"We cannot fight this medicine! We could not fight the Dead Men, we could not fight the sound that made our horses run screaming away! Pale Moon is wrong! Wrong about everything! And it will be our deaths if we continue this! No more! I fight no more!"> He looks wildly at Charging Bear. <"Spare me! No more!">

((OOC: There's a time differential going on for the different groups on this thread. CB's fight with the Comanche is now over, but it didn't take all that long, so before Ward suggests going anywhere, I want to finish up with Mike, Augustus, and CB, because then I'll know where THEY are headed. Navigating the maze will take half an hour at the least.

As for whether CB & The Gang are out of combat, well, that's up to them.

Carl, were you trying to look for anything specific? What were you focusing your Notice on?

It's too bad Augustus doesn't understand Comanche...he was the one who caused "the sound that made the horses run" and might be pleased to know how hell his impromptu invention worked.

Since Charging Bear speaks Shoshonean, he does, in fact, understand the Comanche.))

Charging Bear's hands begin to shake as the adrenalin in his body ebbs away. < "There is too much death here for you not to have reasoned what comes next. The serpent that your shaman deals with will kill us all if it is not stopped." >

OOC: He's got to try and reason with 'em ... right?

<"You are wrong."> the defiant one says. <"It will not harm the people...Mirror Serpent was imprisoned by those who wanted the Comanche weak! Mirror Serpent is our birthright! It will kill the whites, drive them from our lands! The Comanche Nation will rise again!">

<"That is what Pale Moon said."> The other one sobs. <"But He said the Ghost Dance shirts would stop bullets. He said the magic painting would keep us from all harm! He said the white man's cattle would be driven before us, and that we would have their women and their horses before the night's middle! And he was wrong! Wrong!">

Augustus stared at Charging Bear and the raiders in bewilderment.  He raised his scattergun's parabolic disk.  "What are they saying?  Do we have to shoot them again?  No, three times would be overkill.  I have a lethal setting, if you care for me to demonstrate it."  The gun barrel weaved wildly about as Augustus began to fiddle with the settings on the stock.

< "The serpent and hawk shall fight... I have seen it. This storm is the hawk's coming ... the dead rising are the serpent's work. We must stop the serpent or die in the conflict of the spirits." >

The native son glances up to Augustus and simply raises a hand before shifting his eyes back on the pair of raiders.

Mike nudges Augustus' weapon down with the barrel of his gun, frowning at the scientist's newfound eagerness to kill but watching the group of natives all the while. The younger of the Comanches seems to have broken down like a man caught in sparse cover under fire too long. Strange, to think that savages could also be brought to the point of tears. "Hell, I don't want to see this..." he mutters, and calls out to Charging Bear, still alert for any sudden moves.

"Y'can't fight the shaman and watch prisoners - c'mon, knock 'em in the head an' leave them if you ain't gon' kill them warrior-like with the blade...they ain't gon' turn on their kinsfolk and it ain't right to make 'em beg." An unwelcome memory flickers; Mike swallows and pushes it back to that part of his mind reserved for the war, trying not to think.

The Comanche seem a bit confused by Charging Bear's pronouncement.

<"You are a shaman?"> The younger one replies.

<"Pah! Look at how he is dressed."> The meaner one says. <"He is more white than red. Do not listen to him."> He glares defiantly at Charging Bear. <"Do your worst, traitor.">

<"No!."> the other cries. <"Please! Do you not see? The storms, the rising dead...Pale Moon was wise once, but his hate has grown! Look at us now! I will not die for his hate."> So saying, the younger one beings stripping off the patterned buckskin shirt he wears.

With an inarticulate scream of rage, the older one leaps at the younger...

Augustus jumps and pulls the trigger.  A blast of goop comes out of his gun,spraying down the three indians.  "Oh dear, we didn't mean to do that.  Luckily, I hadn't changed the setting to lethal yet."


23:06, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 1,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4. Entangle.

((OOC: Actually, his Entangle power comes in the form of another blast of sound, one that affects the central nervous system. It's not a spray so much as another sonic wave that just hurts.

Incidentally, which one of those die you rolled was your Wild Science die?))

Neither, it uses shooting.  I'll spend a white chip, though, just to make it fair.  From here on, the first die will be the skill die.


03:01, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 15,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+3)15,4. White Chip.

Charging Bear moves to pull the two commanche apart but is interrupted by Augustus and his contraption.

OOC: Agility vs 15?

The two grey-skinned Comanche scream and spasm as the device's neurological blare messes with their nervous system...

((OOC: Fair enough. It's still a Weird Science device, which means that rolling a 1 on the skill die (whatever skill is used to activate it) will trigger a malfunction, so I need to know which is the skill die and which is the wild die when you roll for a Gizmo.

The Comanche roll to resist: 00:12, Today: Comanche Raiders rolled 4,9 using d8,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 4,(8+1)9. Resisting Entangle. Nope. They're hit.

Charging Bear, It's either Agility or Smarts.))

OOC: Agility please
11:43, Today: Charging Bear rolled 2,15 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+6+4)16. Agility (-1 Fatigue).
Woot?

((OOC: That's a tie, and since ties mean the status quo prevails, it means you're not entangled.))

Mike flinches and goes tense, holding the light high to see if the sonic pulse has caused any damage to the tunnel ceiling or supports.

[[18:55, Today: Mike Bennett rolled 3,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2. Notice? Even if it did, he ain't seen it.]]

Since there's nothing obvious to occasion bolting at once, Mike swallows, then points Augustus' gun down more forcefully. "It done worked fine, thank you. Kindly," he says, just about managing not to growl with tension. "No need to make loud noises more'n necessary."

He looks at the twitching Comanche soldiers with curpled lip. "-or torturin' the poor bastards. Sarge," he tries, addressing Charging Bear by his jacket's rank, "You gon' come with us or what?"

Charging Bear's eyes the two raiders for but a moment before he can do much else Mike gets his attention with the use of Sarge. "Ain't no need to call me that, wars over for me. I was hopin' to deal with someone, but it seems these two might over done it." He spits at the wall between himself and the previously screaming and on fire Itza-chu.

Closing the distance between himself and the two white folks, the native son puts away his weapons and asks, "Where y'all headed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:29, Fri 06 Dec 2013.

"Ward's headed to try'n put the Snake down," Mike says simply, already moving off. He still seems wary of Charging Bear, and tense. "We figger the Comanch' shaman what's makin' these sons of bitches bulletproof is probably close to the middle o' things. I don't really get it myself, but seems like the Snake's kinda half-asleep an' the Comanch' aim to wake it up."

The Dust Adder pauses, physically stopping. "...shit. Just...gimme a minute."

He sets down the lantern and jogs back to the Comanches at the edge of the light, holstering his gun and shoving their weapons through his belt. Giving them both a moderate kicking to get them reasonably far apart, Mike grabs the younger Comanche's heels and drags him closer to the light, then several feet down a side passage, where he leaves him with another sharp kick for good measure.

Mike comes back and picks up the light. "Headstart," he almost-explains, moving on. "He may be heathen, but I ain't - if we're gonna leave them alive, 'taint fair to leave the one that's fought out next t'the one fixin' to kill him."

((OOC: Is Augustus going to weigh in? If not, then you can get back to the group, and handle Carl's reaction to seeing Charging Bear again. Also, CB, what about Itza-chu? Are you going to leave him buried under the rock for the time being? Digging him out would take a few hours.))

Augustus is too busy fiddling with his gun to weigh in.  He'll tag along with whatever the party decides, while mumbling to himself. 

"Swallowed another chicken whole, Henry? Ought ta listen to your mother, God bless her, and chew your food ever once in a while", Murphy retorts, but his tone is tired, as if his heart wasn't really in it. Well, not surprising, really, given the circumstances.

Charging Bear looks at the rubble and rock covering the treacherous Itza-chu. He closes his hands into tight fists and after a moment opens them. The expression on his face is one of rage and hurt, but it passes into one of resolve. Knowing that the coming of the snake is bigger than his issues with Itza-chu, Charging Bear's right hand finds it way to the doll around his neck and lightly touches it for a moment. The native son looks to the pair before him. His eyes note the Dust Adder's tension but nods in approval of his separating the two raiders.

"The Comanche follow their shaman blindly as he poisons their mind with tails of what they will take. We'd best go see to this shaman. The serpent and hawk will kill all of us if they fight. "


OOC: Does CB still have the fetishes he got from Laughs At Darkness? I think he gave the Dreamcatcher to Jeb

I can't recall the last interaction CB had with Carl was it in the jail? Guess I'll have to do some digging in the archives.

Mike looks at the Cherokee like he's offhandedly mentioned a well-prepared army of Mexicans. "What hawk?"

[[The last time CB saw Carl was when Carl set Itza-Chu on fire/was fighting bulletproof Comanches...CB saw Itza-Chu get up again and rushed in to get at him, resulting in being attacked by the dice roller Itza-Chu clobbering him and Laughs At Darkness appearing to prevent worse occuring. Them vanishing together was the last time Carl saw CB.

Carl knows - and told Mike, which is why he's not attacking you - that CB is "the good Charging Bear", because aside from meeting Itza-Chu actively raping his neighbour, Wildcat read him the entry from her Ranger Bible back in town, which had an accurate description of Itza-Chu's scars (which Charging Bear obviously doesn't have).]]

"Hawk is another spirit ... I think its tied to Alouette and the storm that's here somehow." Charging Bear says with a slight shrug. "I'm sure my grandfather could explain it all better." The native son's eye scanned the area as though something might jump from the walls.

"I reckon we oughta be gettin' back to the others. We done got a mess to explain." The ghostly voice of Jeb says from the general area.

Mike starts a little and heads swiftly back along the way they came. "I reckon you'd best tell Ward 'bout that," he remarks to Charging Bear, raising the light a bit and making sure Augustus doesn't walk into a prop-post. "Say, Jeb, think y'can...glow, or..wear my hat or somethin'? Hard keepin' track of you without bein' able to see ya."

They go on a bit further. "I guess...if you got any arrangements you want specific-like, now's the time," Mike adds to the dead man, feeling very strange to ask.

With this cheerful topic, they shortly catch up with the others. Ned is laughing at something Murphy just said with a "-it don't never touch the sides!" and Heavy Henry is grinning, at least until he sees Charging Bear.

Carl, shirtless, bootless and looking like someone who's fought a small army, gives Charging Bear a few seconds of scrutiny before holding up a hand to the men behind, clearly some kind of command. "..."

Heavy Henry jumps to it, turning to hastily hold up both hands against Tex. "No smash, Tex, no smash! Not this one. ...leastways not now, anyhow."

"It worked!" Mike declares as cheerfully as he can manage, pointing at Augustus with his lantern hand.

((OOC: I'm going to need either Heavy Henry or Carl to make a Persuasion check against Tex to actually keep him from not smashing, please...))

Charging Bear is dumbfounded, and it shows on his face. Somehow he had landed in a mine with almost entirety of the Dust Adders. "And next Itza-Chu will show up ... insult to injury." he mutters as he waits for the other shoe to drop.

[[...couldn't Murphs do it? I think he actually has the persuasion skill... *sigh* All right, here goes.

20:44, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 1 using 1d4-2, rerolling max with rolls of 3. no smash! C'mon dice roller, he's stopped being cursed now...
20:45, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. red chippit. -> 5

Tex...might not smash?]]

The skinned giant growls at Charging Bear, but though he balls his fists the rest of the group manage to keep him from springing at the Indian in their midst.

Dr. Ward walks over to the native son. "Mr. Charging Bear. It is agreeable to see you again. I am reliably informed that the charges I've heard as to your conduct elsewhere may be due to mistaken identity. Is that the case?"

((OOC: Murphy could, if he were on and posting, but you're the one who initiated the action, so...there you go.

Itza-chu would still be at 3 wounds even if he were to somehow crawl out of the tons of rocks over him, given the damage CB did to him, so he is well and truly out of this fight until he heals naturally or someone uses Greater Healing on him. However, CB, you seem to have forgotten that there is another recurring villain who has it in for you and might show up in this mine... }:D

But he'll show up later. Anyhoo, that's a success, so Tex is irritated at CB but not murderous.))

Charging Bear doesn't back down to the far taller slab of muscle but he doesn't do anything one might equate to aggressive. The native son's eyes shift to Ward as the man speaks and then nods saying, "It is; Itza-Chu was the fiend who did those things, and he's currently laying under a lot of rubble."

OOC: Cantrell? Or is the dice roller coming to life?

"You ought tell him about those other things," Mike puts in, then checks with thin air. "Jeb, you still here?"

Augustus continues to fiddle with his devices.  "Hm.  I suppose I could make a audio-vibratory-physio-molecular transport device, but who one earth would fund it?  Not him, anyone but him!  Still, I suppose a super-sonic train engine would be worthwhile to work on."

Charging Bear nods, "Of course, I believe the Comanche shaman is the one dealing with the snake spirit which is the one causing lots of the local problems. There is a hawk spirit that's coming or already here to fight the snake. I've seen it... the hawk is the reason for the terrible storms of late. If the snake and hawk fight we all will die. I'd suggest we deal with the snake before it and the hawk can battle. We'll have to deal with the shaman and figure out how to hurt the braves."

Murphy sighs. "How often do I have to say this? We need to find the bloody picture that the fella took of all them bloody indians! No offense, mate."
He shrugs, apologetically, at Charging Bear.
"When we have it, we can destroy it. That'll give them back their skin color and all, might make them lose their taste for battle, though."

"Er...yeah, I am." the ghostly says from out of the ether. "Now, don't be scared...I owe Charging Bear here my soul...he done saved me from torment eternal."

Augustus looks around.  "That's impressive.  Which one of you is a ventriloquist?"

"How interesting...a lingering thought pattern in the aether..." Ward says, then shakes his head to clear it.

"Mr. Murphy, until we can obtain said photograph, we will need a way of harming or at least disabling them." he says. "The renegades are here in force. We are only these happy few, these band of brothers. We shall need to husband our resources carefully if we are to win through this trial. My own aesthetic manipulations cannot be relied on here. Thus far, the only thing we have with us that can reliably disable them is Mr. Spotswood's device."

He looks up at the ghost rock seam. "Hmmm...I wonder. Mr. Spotswood, there is a lot of Ghost Rock around. We have with us a case of dynamite. Could you perhaps fashion a sort of 'aetheric disruption' effect with those resources?"

"I'm certain I can whip up something.  No, not that, we don't need uranium.  What exactly did you have in mind?"

OOC: I have the Gadgeteer edge.  In game terms, what would be the power he's describing? 

"Well, here is my plan. We chip some of the ghost rock from the walls, and pack them around a core of dynamite stuck in a jar, flask, or canteen. When attacking, we lit the fuse and toss our makeshift bomb. The dynamite explodes, igniting the ghost rock shards, and hopefully the flaming ghost rock shrapnel will travel ahead of the pressure created by the blast, causing both Aetheric and temporal harm to anything in a wide area."

((OOC: Well, you can whip up an area attack with the Blast power. you'll have 10 pp to use for this power (Augustus didn't take Extra PP at all), which you can split up between area and damage as you like.

Because these are sticks of dynamite, we'll lower the range but allow you to do an extra die of damage for each attack. The range will be 6/12/24 and use Throwing to activate. For 2 pp, the burst deals 3d6 damage in a Medium Burst Template and have a chance of setting things on fire. For 4 pp, you could do either an extra die of damage, or make the range a Large Burst Template. For 6 pp, you can do both. You have 10 pp to divvy up, so make the sticks you will. Making these things will take 1d20 minutes and consume 10 sticks of dynamite. Since Tex is carrying a whole case of the stuff and none of it has been used, that won't be a problem.))

Murphy puts on a surprisingly clean shirt in the meanwhile, muttering something about a "bloody Saxon bard" as he does.

The Dust Adders startle and shift a bit, looking for Jeb. Joe crosses and re-crosses himself. Carl ghost-stares at the noise, tensed. "It's all right, it really is him...he ain't gone wrong like Nate. Say, Jeb, you got a pistol or anythin' over there?"

The idea of throwing bombs in the mine gets an uneasy murmur. "Sir, you certain it's stable enough for that?"

"I'll fight the Comanch' all day, but - with respect, Doc, - I will not fight under a weak ceilin' if folks're throwin' bombs about. That 'mite is a last resort to block somethin' in, that's enough risk. I'm no coward, sir, but Ah do not like it. Not at all," Heavy Henry says, swallowing.

"No sir, I do not want to b'come another boney monster with them redskins. Shit, that's a fate worse'n Hell..."

Carl catches Ward's eye and nods towards Murphy slightly, though it's hard to concentrate. "..."

[[The Dust Adders really object to those trappings!]]

Ward sighs. "Gentlemen, I understand your concerns. But you need to look at the situation. The attack on the ranch was repulsed without a single casualty on either side. We know there are between two and three score renegades out there. Only fifteen attacked the ranch. A like number attacked the town, from what you've told me."

"Men, we are outnumbered. At best, we are facing two-to-one odds. At worst, there could be five or six of them for each of us. We only have a single weapon that we know will be effective against them that we can rely on right now. And the shaman is preparing to unleash a power that will horrify the nation. This is larger than our lives, gentlemen. The fate of the nation may well rest in our hands. You went into this knowing that it would be difficult, and that was before we learned what it was we were truly facing."

"This plan represents our best chance of getting to the shaman to pluck the portrait from him and rob him of his greatest advantage. Unless any of you have a better plan that we can work with? Any other weapons with which we may fight this menace? Any stratagem clever enough to overcome the odds we face?"

Augustus sits down with his tools.  "This ought to take a few minutes.  I'm also adding my sonic technology, to give it some extra oomph.  No, we don't need a transducer, this should be enough.  We believe we can mount it onto a shotgun so it can be launched."

OOC: Adding a Sonic trapping to the device (just because that's what he'd do, no significant game effect) and I'd like to make a case for launching the makeshift bombs like a grenade.  That's exactly what the original grenade launchers were, anyway.

01:16, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 19 using 1d20, rerolling max with rolls of 19. Minutes until completion.

So, it'll take me a bit. 

Buttoning up and tucking his shirt into his pants, Murphy says: "All due respect, Doc, that's malarkey. Carl and me, we just dug our way into this bloody mine. I'm not particularly looking forward digging meself out again.
Plus, we don't really need to kill them or anything. Just scare them. They' might not be scared of bullets, but, Jesus, we got Tex! And Tex is one scary brother. No offense, mate."
He nods at the huge burned muscle of a man.
"If the walls come tumbling down - which they won't if we're all nice and easy and quiet", a quick look at Carl, "we won't be getting near the fucking picture too. Now, we all might not care all that much about it when we're all buried in here, but I'd like to see me wife and me kid again."

He swallows.
"Maybe if we're not all marching and hollering to where were need to go, but instead some place else, we might be drawing some of them off. Then a smaller 'band of brothers'", he makes sour face at the phrase as if he'd bitten into something both tasting and smelling unpleasant, "could find the snake shaman and talk him into handing over the picture."

Listing to white men talk about combat always marvels Charging Bear They make things so complex.

"You cut off the head of the snake ... you don't throw dynamite at it. The shaman is the head of the raiders without him most of the braves will fall back. Without the magic all will. A few men moving quietly could get close enough to deal with the shaman, though I doubt it will be with talk."

Ward  sighs. "I do not suggest any of this lightly, and attacking the renegades with dynamite is something we should do only if all else fails. But we need to prepare for the worst-case scenario now, before we proceed any further and discover any surprises the hard way."

"Consider all that may go wrong with your plan, Mr. Murphy. Tex's intimidation factor may not frighten enough of the renegade to significantly inconvenience their aims. The Shaman could have defensive powers active, or have surrounded himself with warriors capable of fending any small band that would get near him. Instead of falling for any distraction, they may see through the ruse and reinforce their position. The shaman will not likely be dissuaded by any means short of violence."

"Having a reasonable way of harming the Comanche in numbers, should it prove necessary, will allow us an option to take if your frankly optimistic plan of 'cause a distraction and scare them to draw men away and leave the shaman vulnerable' does not proceed exactly as you envision. You can only cut the head off a snake if you can catch it. If you encounter a nest, more drastic measures need to be taken."

"And another thing all of you should consider--what if the serpent has other minions? I should like to remind you that we have not yet encountered the specter of Nathanial Frost, who still has a grudge against myself, Mr. Allans, Mr. Bennett, Mr. Spotswood, and now Mr. Charging Bear. Can any of you claim to have a way of dealing with the specter, should he appear at a critical juncture?"

"I might be able to help there." Says the ghostly voice of Jeb. "I'm a ghost, too. I got a knife with me. Don't know if'n two ghosts can duke it out, but if they can, I can try my best."

Ward doesn't even bat an eye as the spirit's voice "Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. That gives us an option. But I would very much like it if we had more than one option with us. By all means, let us attempt to get close enough to the shaman to deprive him of his picture. But let us at least entertain the thought that this trip may be fatal for all involved."

"I made a grave miscalculation when I first began toying with Tezcatlcoatl. Now that the spirit is near awakening, I am willing to do anything in my power, up to and including sacrificing my own life, to keep it contained to these halls forever. If any of you do not share my conviction, then the exit is that way."

He points back towards the mine entrance. "You are welcome to depart now, and godspeed. But know that we need every advantage we can get if we are to prevail. To save the town, to save your friends and family, to save the world itself, we must be ready to lay down our own lives for the greater good. If you leave now, you may be saving your own life for a few hours only, for if we fail, I shudder to think what will become of this part of Texas. So if any of you are weak in heart, then go. But go with the knowledge that you are weakening the rest of this group, and that if we fail, it will be on your shoulders for the rest of whatever remains of your lives."

((OOC: So you want to use Shooting instead of throwing for the device? That will work, but if you're going for a dynamite launcher, you're probably going to want to hand the device off to someone with a better Shooting score than you, and you won't be able to parcel out the bombs among the group.))

Murphy shrugs.
"If we have all this dynamite, then why not use it to blow the whole damn mine and bury snakes and ghosts and all while watching from the outside?
I mean, Jesus Christ, you said yourself you did a 'miscalculation', so what makes you so sure, you're not miscalculating again?"

"If the picture is what's making the raiders difficult to hurt, it need probably needs to be dealt with by a more face to face means. Objects of power are difficult like that."

"As for Frost, I might be able to deal with him. I did spend a great deal of time in the hunting ground here of late, which I'm guessing is why I could hurt the raiders when none of you could."

"Ever hear o' Satan's Garden, Paddy? Ghost Rock starts burnin' in the ground, it don't stop. Never."

Mike nods grimly, answering a small gesture from Carl as much as chipping in to the conversation. "That's without counting the prospect o' settin' off Rock dust or gas from the last explosion - sure, we'd git the Snake, but they'd have to go redraw all the maps on 'count of drawin' round where Texas was. I don't think we could 'fixiate 'em that way neither, not without riskin' the Rock."

"It's a real good reason not to blow shit up," Henry adds, glancing at the ceiling, though he doesn't seem to be aiming to leave. "I signed up for high risk o' hurt an' scalpin', yes, not suicide."

"No, I didn't," Mike responds to Carl's indication of the captured tomahawks. "Shit, dint even think to test it out on them...they might not know if'n their weapons can cut them either, though. Could be we could bluff 'em if it came to it."

Carl nods and scrapes a blood-stuck lock of hair off his stitches left-handed. He takes a moment to breathe, pulling in whatever it is that allows him to talk. The drugs in his system make the air seem to shiver, everything at once hyper-clear and distant as the moon. "Shaman might be up for duellin'. Reckon Bear c'n hold him awhile at least if we distract 'em. Everyone pilin' deep down an' usin' air pro'ly ain't the best idea anyhow."

He licks his lower lip, then looks at Ward and paces closer, bare feet almost silent on the dusty floor. His voice is low, but there's no trace of submission in his stance. "Advantage is usin' what you got. Not numbers. Mebbe your life ain't been so dear t'you awhile, but you do not weigh us that way. Not our lives."

Carl watches Ward a moment. "'Specially not Murphy's, acause that choice is b'tween knowin' how we're tryin' to stop it, or, if it all goes to Hell, bein' there."

A few more seconds of stare and Carl moves over to get Murphy's attention with a hand on the shoulder. "..."

Dr. Ward frowns at the arguing. "Listen to me." he says. "Because you haven't been, up 'till now. You all seem to be under the impression that this course I'm suggesting is to be our first line of attack. It is not. I am asking that we prepare for the worst--that we cannot reach the shaman without being overwhelmed ourselves, then we have the means at our disposal end the threat once and for all. My fondest hope is that we can end this having never used a single stick, that we come to some sort of resolution that leaves Blackthorn the means to rise once again, with the renegades dispersed and the serpent safely back in slumber. And I am still waiting for the rest of you to offer a better contingency plan in case all else fails."

Murphy shakes his head again.
"Excuse me, Doc, but what you're proposing is not a contingency. It's just plain stupid."
He raises his hands warding off any interjections.
"We know we can't hurt them with our guns, now can we? So I agree, we do need to find some way to get to the bloody shaman. I'm just not sure it'll be done using anything that he's building."
He points to Augustus.

"I mean for Christ's sake, he's babbling like a madman! You want to have this... 'contingency' be based on something that could kill all of us, if it's even the least bit unstable. And no kidding, he doesn't seem to be the kind to be allowed around explosives, anyhow."

He looks at Jeb. Murphy doesn't seem to be in the least disturbed to be talking to a ghost, it seems.
"On the other hand, we have Tex. We have Jeb here. They have to count for something. We have him", he's pointing to Charging Bear, "and we have your wits, doctor. Hard to believe you can't think of a better option. I've already offered one. Try to draw them out, allow a smaller team to sneak in. It#s bound to be worth a try first, at least."

"I am not babbling like a madman!  Mad men don't babble anyway, they gibber.  Everything we say has meaning.  Yes I know it's going over their heads.  Now shush.  I may talk to myself, but everything I make works.  And I assure you, I can make this device work."

"Yeah, that's what we're worried about."

"If you're worried about my aim, or my tactical decisions. I can pass the launcher off to someone else the moment I'm done.  Then you decide if it's needed or not.  However, let me remind you that sound is the only weapon we have that's proven effective against these warriors."

"Sound?" Murphy raises an eyebrow.
"You mean like yelling and singing?"

"No...his blastative gun, it works on sound," Mike adds to Murphy. "You dint hear it when he blasted you 'cross lots 'cause it's real low, like snakes can hear, ain't that right?" he looks to Augustus.

"Kinda a vibration...his axes hurt 'em too,"</DarkBlue> Mike points out Charging Bear's weapons. "Mebbe their axes, too." He pats the strange grey tomahawks through his belt.

Carl nods to Augustus' offer. "We'll give it to the one as has most t'lose. Murphy, if you're stayin'."

This is entirely too much for Ned. "I...I can't do this. I'm sorry, I..." he shakes his head. "...I'm goin'. I might die o' shame out there, or of all the heathen hellbeasts, but that ain't now...now I jest want to live. I'm sorry." Ned closes his eyes tight as though speared by sorrow, but slinks past the others all the same, heading back.

Carl watches him without expression, then shrugs, returning his attention to Ward. "If it comes to it, we'll fight the Snake."

Murphy looks at Carl, an incredulous look on his face.
"What the fuck's that supposed to mean - 'if'?. You don't think I'd be digging meself into this bloody mine to just leisurly walk out again when the fun starts?"

Charging Bear didn't speak, he just listened to them talking. His eyes scanning the group trying to put the pieces together. There was talk of the serpent, the raiders, the shaman and it all boiled down to that odds weren't in the good guys favor. The native son shrugs slightly as though he knew this already or perhaps he was simply used to the idea. It wasn't like being a member of the Texas Calvary had been something others of his people had done.

He smiles as he started wondering what happened to Dandelion and young Sally.

Carl looks over with something that's almost a frown before Murphy goes on to make light of it. "..." He shrugs slightly.

Charging Bear shakes his head to pull himself from his own thoughts. His eyes land on Ward then move to Carl "We NEED to get moving ... this talk isn't helping solve the problem at hand. If your men aren't willing to do what is needed to save the town and the possible all of Texas then they should just leave now, else they'll just slow us down."

Carl snorts, then gestures for Murphy, Mike and Henry to continue guarding the feverishly working scientist and nods down the tunnel to Ward. "?"

"I cannot see any issue with Mr. Murphy having sole discretion of when to use the launching device." Ward says. He frowns as Ned walks off, but says nothing to the man except to tip his hat.

"My preference would be to wait until Mr. Spotswood has finished his device, then proceed together. I do not fancy facing what comes ahead with a split group. While we wait, we may as well plan strategy."

Accepting an unlit match from Mike, Carl catches Charging Bear's eye. "You go on scout, 'n take Jeb. See th' shaman, kill'm and git runnin'."

He gestures at Tex to indicate why running back towards Dust Adders would be smart if pursued by Comanche, then starts quietly gnawing the bare end of the match. The spot where Jeb's voice was last heard gets a sudden, feral grin, but the Dust Adder adds nothing vocally.

"Sounds fantastic as far as strategies go. Find him and kill him, I mean. No offense, Carl, but that's exactly the kinda thing that'll make us all go boom."
He looks at Agustus: "Not that we're in a hurry or anything, Mister, but when's this thing going to be ready?"

He shrugs at the reply.
"We don't know if they don't have a few explosives on their own, this being a bloody mine and all. I'm fine with Jeb here and him", he nods at Charging Bear, "to be up ahead, but make sure the rest of us don't follow them up to close. Nice and easy and spread out.
Tex and Carl, you should be second in line. Tex is gonna make the pace, anyway and we'll need a guy in charge up there, Carl. Then me, Mike and you, doctor. Rest behind us. When we get to the chamber, the first two groups need to go left and right, respectively, you know, spread out a little, so that we have room.
Who ever's behind me stays there to watch me back. Our backs, I mean.

How does that sound, Carl?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:28, Tue 07 Jan 2014.

A nod of his head was the native son's response to the usually silent Dust Adder's plan. His eyes shift to the Irishman and when he's done says, "Actually, a scouting group finding and killing the shaman would be ideal. It would put the braves into a panic and hopefully stop the spirits from fighting."

Carl nods to Charging Bear's sentiments, flicking a glance to Heavy Henry to herd Tex far enough out of the way for the native to pass without tempting the man-mountain to flatten him.

"Room for what? Blowed up is blowed up," Heavy Henry points out, setting to it. "Drawin' some off, that was a better idea. I don't want t'git cut off from y'all against a score of 'em, that's jes' asking to be scalped twice as fast."


"We don't actually know what the caves around the Rock lode look like, neither - nigh everyone workin' that far out was kilt, and those that weren't ain't he- Spanish, what're you lookin' at?"

Joe mutters something and chafes his arms urgently, then shakes his head for 'nothing'. Mike gives him a 'stay steady' look and goes on: "-here to ask. It needs scouted, an' Charging Bear can hurt 'em. I figure if we're goin' to split it ought only be two groups...I don't cotton to the idea of th' scientists left without fightin' men, not when there's all these side-tunnels, nor Tex mostways-unattended when the Snake might start up a holler 'bout how we're frightenin', and he should squash us. I mean, I know Carl's dimmer'n a candle through molasses-" Carl half-smirks at the insult.

"-but if it can mess with his head...yeah. Don't reckon we should git out of sight of each other more'n we can help. We're going to have to start rationing light in mebbe an hour, too."

((OOC: Just waiting on motion toward action, folks.))

"Oh, Joseph fucking Mary and Jesus!" Murphy swears, drawing his attention back to him.
"I'm not saying anybody should walk alone in the dark, that would be stupid. And Henry," He turns to face him, "Yeah, I like the drawing off part more as well. But Carl's in charge, and it's his decision. So you want to draw them off, be me fucking guest. It's not like it's easy to sneak up on a fucking indian anyway and you're certainly... ah fuck it, forget it."

He shrugs and spits.
"By now we've talked enough about this that the bloody walls in this bloody mine will have carried every bloody sound into every bloody chamber anyway. Let's just hope their English is as bad as your's, Spanish. And what the fuck are you looking at, anyway?!"

The small Irish man is clearly not in his best mood.

The ex-mining Dust Adders look up at the roof in a superstitious check, not quite in synch. "Don't...swear the good out, Paddy. Not underground," Mike says.

Heavy just catches Murphy's eye and tosses the smaller man his canteen, then goes back to makig sure Tex doesn't get it into his head to run off to find Comanches to fight.

"Fairies, maybe," Spanish says, his expression hard to gauge, then looks off at the dark again. Still dissatisfied, the Dust Adder kneels and listens to the floor for a bit.
Carl spares Murphy a look as he goes over to check on whatever the hell Spanish is at. "..."  The wrangler crouches to Joe's level. "?"

Charging Bear felt tired he didn't care for it but what was happening won't give him a moment to rest and when it did ... well it seemed the white people couldn't accept rest as an option. He lightly touches the tattoo on his forearm as he waits, the area is still tender, but he felt like it was healing.

"Fairies?"
Murphy slowly gets next to Spanish and looks into the dark.
"Gra, Dilseacht, Cairdeas!" he calls out, softly, and in Gaelic.

Waiting didn't work for Charging Bear so he did as was suggested and headed out to scout.

OOC: Apparently I'm a HORRIBLE player as I'm doing a terrible job keeping up with this game ... ugh

((OOC: Charging Bear, make a Tracking Check, -2. Where are you attempting to head?

Joe, Carl, you don't hear any slithering in this part of the mine, though there's a sound that echoes somewhere back the way you came, though it's too distorted by distance to make out just what it was...))

Carl stands off, tense.

"Maybe it was bats, I only hear the Cherokee's footsteps here...but we are too deep for them to have food; I think it is...spirit creatures," Spanish reports as he kneels back, bemused at Murphy trying to catch the attention of such things. "Also, there was someone, he fell over, less than a mile away. Not a rockfall."

Mike nods and keeps his attention on the tunnel behind them as they wait, reloading.

"You got an incredible set of ears on that head of yours, Spanish."


Murphy scratches the stubble on his chin.

"Less than a mile you say?" he turns to Carl. "He's", he indicates Augustus with a thumb, "going to take a few more minutes. I... I think I'll ckeck out whatever's behind us. So there's no suprises."
He mutters something in gaelic, then shrugs.
"All that waiting makes me kinda skittish."

"Less'n a mile covers at least four tunnels," Mike points out.

Carl takes a moment to think, or at least to convince himself he's not made of paper and so really is part of the conversation. The leader, even. He stares at Augustus, estimating, then looks about, chewing his matchstick. Henry would default to drink left too long; he nods the man over to accompany Murphy, then looks to Mike. If Murphy could cut redcoat throats as a stripling boy, he'd have no fear of close work.

Mike hands Murphy one of the grey axes.

Carl indicates 'seven', one-handed, then beckons that they should come back after that, his gaze reminding caution. Heavy Henry grins. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he leaves the rest o' us some of the clumsy ones."

Carl looks at him a moment, then Murphy. "Run into a mess of 'em, run back."

"Certainly. Wouldn't want to get me shirt dirty."

Murphy accepts one of the axes and whacks the air a few times to get a feel for the weight of the weapon.
"Come on now, Henry. Little bit of walking will do you a lot of good. Stretch you legs a little, as it were."

"Is that how you got so tall?" Heavy lumbers over with a lamp.

Murphy pulls himself up to his full, albeit small, height.
"I shall have you know, good sir, that me tallness comes as decreed by the bloody royal Saxon bitch Vicky who knew that if the Irish were taller, we'd beat the bloody Saxons out from the Emerald Isle just as St. Patrick drove out the snakes. As a loyal subject, me and me family happily obliged her."

His tone is cheerful, despite the harshness of his words.

In reply to The Stray (msg # 125):

OOC: I'll go towards where the Raiders were coming from
09:55, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,4 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Trackin' (-2 GM +2 Woodsman).
If Woodsman doesn't apply I'll reroll

((OOC: So...we have CB headed out alone to scout, Muphy and Henry headed toward Wildcat's position, and the rest waiting for Augustus to finish his device, yes?))

In reply to The Stray (msg # 133):

OOC: That sounds about right.

((OOC: Murphy? You still watching this thread?))

((I am indeed! Summary sounds right, boss))

[[Carl's still back with Augustus, too. That and on smack since June...]]

Charging Bear quickly discovers the tunnels beyond the bone fiend's lair are a maze. The tunnels cross each other, meander aimlessly, and are empty of signs of recent travel. The raiders must have come another way entirely, but the way back to those other tunnels was blocked by the cave-in they triggered.

There's a choice before him and the others. Try to follow these tunnels and see if they circle around, or return to the cave-in and try to clear it.

Charging Bear's navigation is made slightly easier by the cart rail in this section, but it quickly veers off. He also notices some Ghost Rock seams in the walls, which look like they might have been exposed by an earthquake of some kind. The ghost rock seams get larger the deeper into the tunnels the native son proceeds, but they don't follow the rail.

((OOC: It takes Charging Bear roughly half an hour to complete this scouting trek. he could push on and see where all the tunnels go, or return to the group. What's it to be?))

---

It takes Augustus roughly half an hour to finish the dynamite launcher. Ward nods in approval. "Excellent. Our defenses are ready. Now we simply need to wait for our companions before pressing on."

((OOC: Unless Mike or Carl have better ideas.))

---

It takes Murphy and Henry around half an hour to retrace their steps back to the tunnels near the Indian artifacts. There, They spy a glowing woman cussing out a group of creepy, red-eyed crows. There's a burst of air, and the crows scatter as a sudden gale whips through the tunnel. One of the crows is dashed against the tunnel sides and is left dazed, but the others take to the current and begin circling.

"Blood! Death! Murder!" they cry.

((OOC: 00:04, Today: Deep Crows rolled 7,3,6,7 using d8,d8,d8,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3,6,7. wind resistance. Even with a -2 penalty for them being airbone, 3 of them make the roll--the 4th is Shaken.

Henry and Murphy get a chance to react to the crows before I roll for them. I'm not bothering with initiative for this fight.))

"What in the hell...?" he said quietly, not talking to anyone in particular.

[[pretty sure Wildcat was at the cave in, chief.]]

"Whal don't jest stand there like skeered upsidowney goats - give 'er a stomp an' help me think o' how to git these critters below snakes, pref'rable afore I run outta ideers what's other than shootin' soot pigeons in a Ghost Rock mine!" the Woman In Grey tells them.

"Don't go shootin' in here, woman! If the birds is talkin' maybe you can talk to 'em. Or just hit 'em," he suggested. Henry didn't know if he was fast enough to smack down a bird, but he figured he'd be strong enough to do it some hurt. If he could only hit it.

"They's the Snake's critters, ain't no good to par-lay with 'em, not none," the shining one responds, taking advantage of the bird-things' regroup to pull herself to her feet and reach for a knuckle-duster. "Don't look 'em in the eyes, hurts y'all with yer own mind somehow."

Wildcat lowers her head to block the critters' direct gaze with her hatbrim, gears meshing in back of her skull. "Oh, an' Irish, yer missus says you better not stop out gettin' kilt or yer good shirt spoilt or she'll have yer guts as garters."


[[Wait a minute, didn't Wildcat have the Relic card? I'll check it out as we wait for Murphs to be around, but I reckon Karankawa (sp?) anti-Aztec/snake god weapons might be Helpful down here...]]

The crows do seem to be regrouping...

((OOC: I had planned for the eventuality that Karankawa weapons/items useful against Tez might, in fact, be down here and available. If she does, I don't remember.

I'm mostly waiting on Murphy right now, or anyone in the group with Ward to start commenting/doing stuff, or CB to post.))

OOC: I'm ALIVE!

---

"Can't say how quick we can clear that cave-in... best move forward, see where this goes." Charging Bear said to no one particular as he sculled through the tunnels, keeping low as he could without hampering his speed.

"Reckon you're right." The ghostly voice of Jeb says near CB.

((OOC: Are you going to try and follow any specific thing in your tracking, or just search the tunnels randomly? If you're going random, roll me a d3. If you're following some of the landmarks, tell me if you're following the cart rails, the ghost rock, or trying to keep an eye on both.

Also, make me a Notice check. No reason. }:D))

OOC: Notice as requested
12:56, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,2 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2. Notice.

---

Noting his options, Charging Bear keeps his eyes on the rails hoping that something of note will follow.

"Wait, maybe we can talk to them!"  Augustus pulled out a gigantic ear horn and started fiddling with dials on it.


12:36, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 6,2 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 6,2. Beast Friend.

((OOC: Augustus came with Muprhy and Henry? I thought he was back with Ward, finishing up the dynamite launcher to give to Mike.))

It's been so long, I'm rather lost as to who's with what, where.  Apologies. Could you recap that a bit?

((OOC: Recapping:

Charging Bear and the ghost of Jeb Jefferson are scouting up in the maze of tunnels north of the central chamber, looking for a way for the party to circle around and catch up with the Shaman and his immortal buddies.

Carl, Mike, Tex, Spanish Joe, Augustus, Tex, and Dr. Ward were back in the central chamber, where a ton of tunnels meet, discussing the pros and cons of creating a ghost-rock infused dynamite launcher as a weapon against the Comanche, with Dr. Ward agreeing to let Mike Bennett be in charge of the weapon's deployment. Augustus has just finished putting the launcher together, along with his own spin on sonics as a trapping.

Heavy Henry and Mad Irish Murphy are investigating a disturbance to the south, past the cave-in that the Dust Adders cleared. There, they have encountered Wildcat Hawkins fighting off a batch of Deep Crows.))

In reply to Charging Bear (msg # 146):

((OOC: What is Charging Bear using for light?))

In reply to The Stray (msg # 151):

OOC: A lantern found else where in the mine ... ? :)

The light in Charging Bear's lantern has started to burn distressingly blue as he follows the rails...

"Can't be good..." the native son mutters as he sees the light shift from its normal warm yellow to the strange blue. His eyes scan the area looking for a reason for the change in the source of illumination's color.

The portly Dust Adder was in a sour mood over this whole business, but mostly because he needed a drink. He decided to take his foul temper out on the damn birds.

"Get outta here you fuckin' birds!" he yelled at them, waving his hands in a threatening manner, and desperately trying not to make eye contact as the woman had warned him.

---

OOC:

Yes, he is going to try to Intimidate the birds.

Intimidate: 13

15:29, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 13,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+1)13,5. Intimidation.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:32, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

 "Bloody crows?" Murphy mutters out loud, then nudges Henry.
"I know her, I think she's that Ranger woman."
To the woman, he yells: "Oy! Over here, we're here to help!"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Sat 16 Aug 2014.

"Git that thar 'un on th' ground!" the Ranger advises, pointing as she draws what appears to be a chair leg.

[[she'll try hitting 'em if they're not Intimidated into leaving Henry be.]]

"Death! Murder! Indians! Smoking Mirror Serpent! Rise! Rise! Rise!" The crows caw as they flap around Heavy Henry. They don't seem interested in a fight, not at move even odds at any rate, and flap off in separate directions, scattering into the tunnels away from the trio.

((OOC: 19:29, Today: Deep Crows rolled 6 using 1d12+2, rerolling max with rolls of 4. Resisting Intimidate. That's good enough. The crows disperse back into the caves.))

Wildcat hastens to pick up the downed little mutant bird, being sure to grab it by the back of the neck like a snake.

[[grapple?]]

"All right - best we make tracks afore some other mean thing comes a-callin' here," she says, looking on up the tunnel, then turns her attention to the men. "Whar'd you come from?" she asks Henry, squinting. "-actually, never mind that, is Carl alive? Whoe'er's in charge here, got to tell 'em to follow the rails an' th' Rock together, 's sneakier, an' on no 'count break that picture."

"Shaman plans ter smash it to wake th' Snake 'cause it'll kill all them bravos, wake it up good, but if he ain't done his conjurin' first, it kills 'em an' blows up the Rock."

[[since Wildcat was more like 15 minutes than half an hour back, I reckon we'll catch up with the waiting group with no time difference - chief?]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:35, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

"Originally from Kerry, but more recently from back there", Murphy eyes the crows sceptically, but his voice is cheerful as he points his thumb over his shoulder.
"Carl's there, as is Doc Ward and a bunch of others. We're hunting that bloody shaman and getting that picture that turned all them indians grey. I figured if we destroyed it, it might put the fear of the Almighty back into their hearts! Or at least fear of our guns."

He waves a hand, frantically. "Come now, come! And how do you know about that bloody picture anyway?"

Then he hollers towards the crows: "Oy! I told that bloody serpent to get lost already! Tell him Patrick Murphy told him to leg it!"

Heavy Henry walked over with the ranger woman in his usual slow manner. He didn't like to walk too quickly, because it tended to become a waddle sooner than later. Step by step, the corpulent man came around to where the Murphy was standing.

"I done scared the birds away, Irish," he said. "We best get back to Carl and the others. Better in numbers. He'll be glad to see you, Ranger."

The red-eyed, snake-tailed corbie thrashes about in the Ranger's grip, attempting to get away. "Help! Help! Help!" it caws.

"If that thang is evil, snap its neck, Ranger woman," he suggested.

Wildcat scowls and kills her little captive swiftly like a chicken for the pot, then hastens after Murphy, pocketing both chair leg and corpse.

"Weren't that what y'all left town after? Ennyhow, th' bit 'bout it blowin' us all to Blazes if'n it gets broke was from some Injun medicine-type I met on th' way in here. Weren't no Comanch', I reckon: queer fella, but he said he wuz on the side of the angels an' I do believe that."

Henry's comment gets a strange look, but if that was a jibe the ranger doesn't care to reply: she needed all her energy right now, to think.

Carl notices the little group's return first, tense and keyed-up as any of them despite the effects of the drug oozing round his system. It loosens his voice, previously so rare and hard to force. What was her name again? Wildcat, the back of his brain suggests; he doesn't question it, just nods a greeting. "Hey, Kitten."

Mind bitter and sharpened by worry, Wildcat finds just as personal a put-down to sling back, not breaking stride: "Hey, Huckleberry."

Colbalt eyes narrowed, the glowing Ranger looks closely at Augustus until Carl nods her at Ward. Wildcat presents herself front and center, trying to ignore the fact she's now surrounded by Dust Adders. If they chose to cut her down, so be it.

"Private Wi- Katrina Hawkins, Texas Rangers. I figger I ought rightly arrest ya fer this dern mess, but we got bigger problems right now so I'm hopin' you're the brains o' this bunch an' can listen better'n a deaf crayfish boiled n' buttered."

"That picture. Enny y'all break it b'fore th' shaman makes his medicine, we all die. Let him make his medicine...th' Snake gits up, we all die. What we got t'do is break up th' medicine or capture him, get that picture away. He'll be somewheres...now, what did th' old coyote say? ...ah - somewheres where th' tracks an' the Rock both run down t'gether. My source said somethin 'bout "avoiding the nest" thattaway, could be less guarded."

There. They could set on her now, but she'd done her best to give them the information. Hopefully this Ward fellow was more misguided than evil, though her heart thudded doubt in her chest. Wildcat watches the doctor, arms crossed and feet planted firmly, ready for a riot.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:22, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

He listened quietly, and nodded. "How'd you get all glowin'?" he asked.

"So you are the famous Ranger Hawkins." Ward says, doffing his hat. He gives her a short, proper bow. "I appreciate your warning."

"Oughta tear yer arms off." Tex rumbles, standing. His piggy eyes bore into the ranger. "Oughta feed ya to the Goddamn snakes."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:40, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

"The path of the just, Adder," Wildcat throws to Mike, quoting: "If thy whole body therefore be full of light, having no part dark, the whole shall be full of light, as when the bright shining of a candle doth give thee light. I'll grant I ain't perfectly just yet, but seems th' Lord sees fit t'let me try, 'count of the great darkness here'bouts."

"Thank'ee," the Ranger responds to Ward, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Tex gets a fierce scowl.

Quietly, Carl steps between Wildcat and the giant, concentrating hard so as not to give any sign of limp or stagger, and raises his head to meet Tex's eye. Mine.

Wildcat bristles, craning around the civilians. "An' how would I help y'all fight the Comanch' without ma arms, dumbass? At least let me jine yer little party 'til we git some redskins gone - chances are I'll die ennyway, this ain't the time t'be a consarned dogface fool!"


[[Intimidate? Persuade? Not sure...]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:46, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

"I reckon there's too much shit goin' on for us livin' folk to be killin' each other just now," he said, now that Carl had taken the lead on the matter.

((OOC: Trying to calm down Tex requires a Persuasion check...Intimidation is likely to start a fight.))

Murphy steps... well, not into Tex's line of sight, as the height difference is just too much, but at least in between the marshal and the huge walking muscle.
He throws his hands in the ari and rolls his eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Tex, could we focus on killing one thing at a time, maybe? The bloody shaman first, remember? Then, when we're all back up and outside, and we dance a nice little jig in remembering our this here adventure, we'll see about other things."



23:54, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 13,4 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+5)13,4. Persuasion.

There seems to be a greenish mist in the tunnels, and there's an odd smell, like a combination of lemons and peppers.

Tex glares at Murphy, and for one sickening moment he clenches his fists, as if ready to smash away regardless of what other priorities there were.

Then, slowly, he uncurls his fist.

"Other bloody Injuns. Righ'. Them." he says ponderously. "Where they at? Ah'm gettin' bored."

((OOC: Tez, trying to provoke a fight, attempts an opposed Spirit roll to convince Tex to disregard Murphy. 01:57, Today: Tezcatlcoatl rolled 11,2 using d12,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 11,2. Spirit. Nope. The Little People have graced his tongue with charm.))

Charging Bear tries to recall if there is something significant to the smell of the mist but can't put his finger on anything that seemed important. He pushes on trying to keep from breaking the mist any more than he has to by putting a wet rag to his mouth and nose as he scouts on.

OOC:
12:20, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,1 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1. Knowledge (Occult).
This message was last edited by the player at 16:39, Mon 08 Sept 2014.

The mist gets thicker the further on he goes, and the lantern light begins to dim alarmingly. It's also getting harder to breathe, and he must have breathed in a little of the stuff before, because he can feel a tingly burning sensation in his nose and mouth that makes him want to cough.

((OOC: actually, the smell would be a Common Knowledge check. Because CB fought in the war, but not necessarily on the front lines, I'll give you a +1 bonus to the Smarts roll.

Also, make a Vigor roll. Your wet rag helps cancel out a penalty you'd otherwise have.))

OOC: Rolls as requested
14:19, Today: Charging Bear rolled 7,3 using 1d8+1,1d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,2. Common Knowledge (+1 GM mod).
14:19, Today: Charging Bear rolled 9,5 using 1d6+1,1d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of (6+2)8,4. CK ... wrong die before ... oops.
14:20, Today: Charging Bear rolled 4,2 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2. Vigor.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:20, Mon 08 Sept 2014.

As Charging Bear presses forward, he realizes why that citrus-and-pepper smell was so familiar...

It's chlorine gas. The terror weapon of the Confederacy. The burning sensation in his mouth and nose seems to be getting stronger, and his skin is beginning to tingle...

((OOC: And make me another Vigor check. What now?))

Charging Bear frowns as his mind recalls the horrible happenings he'd seen with this gas before. He knows that he needs to find the natives who are unleashing this and other horrors on the area so he pushes on.

OOC:
14:36, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,4 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5. Vigor (-1 Fatigue).

((OOC: Where did that fatigue level come from?))

OOC: NO idea ... just realized it was in my bio ... guessing from the spirit quest, I can burn a fate chip for my previous roll if you want.

The mist just gets thicker as he moves deeper in...and then his flame, already blue, begins to dim quite alarmingly.

"Hey, Charging Bear?" Jeb says nervously. "That...that there's a bad sign. There's gases in here mine that can choke the life out o' a man. I dunno what this mist is...but I can't seem to move through it, so I reckon it's on the spirit plane as well. Mebbe we oughta turn back..."

((OOC: Nah, just remove it from your bio. Also, make another Vigor check. You'll be making one for each turn you spend in here. Oh, and make a notice check (-2). ))

As much as the sane part of his brain told him to stop, Charging Bear knew he needed to find the source of this gas and the misguided souls bent on killing the town. His steps slow slightly but he pushes on.

OOC: Done!
15:24, Today: Charging Bear rolled 14,1 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,1. Vigor.
15:24, Today: Charging Bear rolled -20,1 using 1d6-21,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,3. Notice (-2 GM mod).
15:25, Today: Charging Bear rolled 15,3 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+3)15,3. Blue Chip (+2 Elan).

Charging Bear creeps forward, the gas swirling lazily around him. Wait a moment. Swirling? There's no breeze down here. But it seems to be following his steps, sliding along the floor despite the only air currents being Charging Bear's own movements, which should be pushing the cloud away from him (at least briefly).

Then he notices a skull-like face form in the mist, bilious green eyes staring at him for a moment before the grinning skull fades away...

And it dawns on him that this cloud is alive.

((OOC: Congrats! Now make a Guts check (-6 for the Deadland, + Grit, no chips can be spent on the roll because, well, Deadland) and then another Vigor check.))
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Mon 08 Sept 2014.

The realizations hit Charging Bear like a hammer being used by a rather angry goddess of thunder. His heart flutters oddly as the adrenaline and terror take hold. He grabs his chest, dropping his lamp and rag, and steps back into the mine wall.

OOC:
15:58, Today: Charging Bear rolled 2,-1 using 1d6-3,1d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2. Fear (-6 Deadlands, +3 Guts).
That's a lovely fail which sends me to the Fright Chart
15:58, Today: Charging Bear rolled 4,3 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,3. Vigor.

16:00, Today: Charging Bear rolled 21 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 15. Fright Chat (+6 Deadland).

quote:

21+  - Heart Attack - Incapacitated, roll Vigor -2. On success, character is Shaken, can't attempt to recover for d4 rounds. On failure, dies in 2d6 rounds. Healing roll at -4 saves life, but PC is still Incapacitated.

16:01, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,1 using 1d8-2,1d6-2 with rolls of 7,3. Vigor (-2 Fright). SUCCESS! Still shaken for d4 rounds.

Carl looks off where their scout left, frowns, then glances over Augustus and back to Wildcat. "?"

"Foller the Rock and the rails - think y'can do that, Big Adder?" Wildcat responds, catching the movement but not taking her eyes off Tex.

Carl hauls himself into balance along the wall and looks to the others, jerking his head towards where the Rock and rails ran together. The scientist was ready; looked like the pack had some running to do.

The cloud seems to quiver with anticipation as Charging Bear collapses against the wall. The lamp flares, then goes out, plunging the native son into the darkness which is now pressing in on him. He struggles to breathe in the toxic mist, the poison air burning as he draws breath. A great coughing fit clutches him...there's no good air...no air...

"Shit!" Jeb says. "Hold on, CB! I'll get help!"

Charging Bear hears Jeb's voice echo down the shaft, growing more distant with time...

((OOC: Well, ouch. That's going to suck for CB.

13:06, Today: The Stray, on behalf of Charging Bear, rolled 3 using 1d4. d4.

Make 3 Vigor checks (-2 without your rag to help protect you) as the poison gas attempts to kill you via suffocation. Each failed roll is another level of Fatigue, potentially dooming you to a fatigue death.))

---

((OOC: Just noticed Carl's post. Folk who are going after Carl need to make a Tracking roll, with Wildcat's directions cancelling out the penalty that would otherwise be here.))
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Mon 08 Sept 2014.

Charging Bear lazily swings his arms at the gas trying to fend it off but his chest is on fire. It seems like forever as the pain starts to ease, but the noxious fumes don't make it any easier.

After that eternity passes and the pain subsides Charging Bears lets out a scream which sounds much more like a roar "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" almost like one that might be made by his namesake.  The native son's eyes are tearing up and his lungs scream for fresh air but something inside won't let him leave this place not without for filling his mission and helping those who need it. His twin tomahawks appear in his hand without a conscious thought as if they had a will of their own.


OOC:
16:16, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,7 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 7,(6+3)9. Vigor (1 of 3).

16:17, Today: Charging Bear rolled 1,0 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2. Vigor (2 of 3).
16:17, Today: Charging Bear rolled 9,3 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+1)9,3. Blue Chip (+2 Elan).

16:18, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,-1 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1. Vigor (3 of 3).
16:18, Today: Charging Bear rolled 7 using 1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 5. Blue Chip (+2 Elan) .
2 chips burned but he's still standing!

((OOC: Alrighty, you survive that bit. It's your go...this combat isn't really one to draw cards for, since the only way the cloud can attack you is by choking you to death with its fumes. Make your attacks, if you're going to, and then make a Vigor Check (-2) for the gas.))

The sense of hopelessness gave way to rage and Charging Bear lashed out at the gas.

OOC:
16:35, Today: Charging Bear rolled 10,7,8,3 using 1d10+2,1d6+2,1d10,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 8,5,8,3. Fighting (+1TMW, +1Flou, -2Offhand).
Two hits ... both with raises.
16:36, Today: Charging Bear rolled 4,7,1,9,2,2 using 1d8+3,1d6,1d6,1d8+3,1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+1)7,1,6,2,2. Damage (Str +2Weapon +1Grim, Tomahawk, Raise).
13 damage ... twice.

16:37, Today: Charging Bear rolled 2,1 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,3. Vigor.
16:37, Today: Charging Bear rolled 3,7 using 1d8-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,(6+3)9. Blue Chip (+2 Elan).
Welcome to how to make a player burn chips!

Charging Bear can't see well enough to know how well he's doing against the cloud, but as the magical blades whirl around Charging Bear can almost taste a change in the air quality. If a matter of moments, it seems as if the gas has rolled back, and he can breathe easier--though he can still smell the citrus-and-pepper stench all over his clothes, his hair, and the rag he'd been covering his mouth with. He could use a bath.

((OOC: You are fighting in total darkness right now, so there's a -4 penalty on your attacks. That means the second hit is actually just a normal hit, not a raise, so that's actually 11 points. It makes a difference, because this thing is immune to normal damage and only takes half damage from single-target magical effects. So instead of 13 and 11, you wind up doing 6 and 5, respectively.

However, the 6 is enough to shake it, and once shaken the 5 is just enough to cause a Wound. Since this thing is an Extra, that will kill it.

However, he's still in darkness, and the gas is still burning. CB will need to strip out of his clothes and wash them to really get the poison out of them, and he'll need to spend at least a minute in fresher air to breathe better. Until you do that, you'll be rolling a Vigor check (no penalty) once per minute (instead of once per round) in order to overcome the gas.))

[[We're tracking...the tracks? Shouldn't they be sort of obvious? Carl assumes CB's been got already since he was supposed to scout and report or else come back pursued by Comanche. Anyway:

21:23, Today: Carl Allans rolled 2,1 using d4-3,d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5,4. Trackin'. Close enough to chip...
Carl Allans rolled 1 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1. blue add. Tssht...
Carl Allans rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. red chippit. ->7 I am reminded I need to sort his Joker chips, too. onward!]]

It's not easy with the distraction of a strange urge to lick the walls, but Carl does head off on the right track. Wildcat falls in with ease alongside him.

[[Forgot I had Wildcat. >_<
Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2. Trackin'. *prods ground, sniffs fingers* A cart crashed here!]]

The only things Heavy Henry had much practice tracking were liquor, whores, and his next meal, so he didn't expect even with guidance to have too much success here - but he did his best which was infrequently good enough.

---

OOC:

Tracking: 4

16:08, Today: Heavy Henry rolled 4,-1 using d4-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of (4+2)6,1. Trackin'.

This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Mon 08 Sept 2014.

Carl, Wildcat, and Heavy Henry begin following the line, keeping a close eye on it and where it follows the ghost rock. This is less easy that it seems, since the Ghost Rock seams are in crevices opened by the cave-in, and aren't always immediately obvious. Still, after a few minutes he and Wildcat and the others can hear a faint shouting from the tunnels ahead. It sounds like the ghostly voice of Jeb, though it echoes, making it had to tell what he's shouting or exactly which of the tunnels he's down.

((OOC: The tracks are obvious, but there aren't just one set of them once you get deeper in, so it's comparing the tracks to the seams of Ghost Rock, and intuiting which tunnels to follow down with a minimum of backtracking. This place is a maze of tunnels in this section, and it's easy to get turned around, even following the rail line.))

After a moment of hesitation, Mike decided to follow the rest. He wasn't much good as a tracker, but it couldn't be that hard to follow a fat man through the mine so he just kept his eyes on Heavy Henry.

---

OOC:
Trackin': 3

16:14, Today: Mike Bennett rolled -1,3 using d4-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. Trackin'.

[[Shouldn't this be a group check? What's Ward at?]]

"Sounds like trouble, Snakes," Wildcat states, checking all her weaponry was loaded and/or loose in its holders.

((OOC: Enough characters have succeeded that it's really academic at this point, but I do want to hear from all the PCs involved before I let Ward and the NPCs have a go.))

From back at the juncture, Augustus looked up from his modified scattergun.  "All finished!  And just in time, I think I heard screaming."

09:30, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 2,4 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,4. Notice.


"Lovely", Murphy replies to no-one in particular.
He looks down at his shirt and notices a smudge - quite peculiar, considering that the shirt overall is far from clean anymore. There's only so much you can do to prevent clothes from getting dirty in a mine.

"Oy, bloody hell!" Murphy exclaims. "Would you fucking look at this? Me Flora's is gonna have me hide for that. I won't hear the bloody end of it..."
He pulls his pistol and follows the others, muttering to himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:46, Fri 12 Sept 2014.

Ward and the other Dust Adders follow behind, with Tex taking up the rear.

It takes them several minutes to reach Charging Bear, with Jeb reaching them about partway though and then guiding them with his spectral voice.

((OOC: Charging Bear, I need to know what you're up to for the five minutes it takes for them to reach you. As I mentioned, each minute you spend in those tainted clothes, you'll need to make a vigor check (-2) against the gas.))

At any other time, the ghost would certainly have held Wildcat's fascination and possibly caused a minor questioning of faith. Right now, she simply cursed the town's pigheaded adaptation to the symptoms of apocalypse and charged onward by her own light.

"Charging Bear! Deputy, you down here?"

The native son searches quickly for the lantern he had moments ago. Unable to locate it he keeps to the mine wall and moves on. The smell of his own clothing causing him to occasionally cough but he manages to keep from losing his dinner.

OOC:
09:37, Today: Charging Bear rolled 1,3 using 1d6-4,1d6-4, rerolling max with rolls of 5,(6+1)7. Notice (-4 Darkness).
09:39, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,10 using 1d10,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,(6+4)10. Vigor.

After a few minutes of wandering in the dark, the poison in his clothing making it hard to breathe, it occurs to Charging Bear that he is completely lost.

He can hear someone calling his name, the voice echoing down the long tunnels of the maze...in his half-delirious state, he thinks it might be Rose...

Fits of coughing and near vomiting cause the native son issue as his own clothing acts against him. He hastily removes his shirt and pants but the stench continues to linger.

OOC:
16:50, Today: Charging Bear rolled -1,2,22,-1,0,-1,2,5 using 1d10-2,1d6-2,1d10-2,1d6-2,1d10-2,1d6-2,1d10-2,1d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4,(10+10+4)24,1,2,1,4,(6+1)7. Vigor (-2 Death Gas!).
Oh how the die roller loves CB!

With the clothes away from him, he begins to breathe better. He can still hear Rose's ghostly voice, calling to him, asking if he's alright.

((OOC: I saw one fail in there, which means a level of fatigue for CB until he rests for a little while. He doesn't need to make any more checks...the gas didn't soak into his skivvies.))

Rose? She's is dead and buried
"I buried her in Boston"
next to her mother.

the lines between internal monologue and speech blur as Charging Bear's body tries to expel toxins. Pushing on, he feels like he's running in circles as the mine bends back on itself and  changes from man carved to natural tunnel and back again.

((OOC: Charging Bear, please make a Notice roll, -4 for the darkness, for me. Also, roll a d3.))

---

"He was right around here..." Jeb the ghost says as the group heads up the tunnel. There's a lantern on the ground, smashed and leaking oil, and the strange smell of citrus and peppers pervades the air.

((OOC: Anyone who served in the Confederate army in the last years of the war, and those which scientific backgrounds, can make a Common Knowledge roll to identify the smell.))

OOC:
12:31, Today: Charging Bear rolled -3,-3,2 using 1d6-4,1d6-4,1d3, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1,2. Notice (-4 Darkness), d3 for GM.
Looks like the Dice Roller's love affair with CB is still going strong!

[[wrong thread/character there, Adrian? Not sure which he you mean...also, Stray, I think Ward's the only one who's been on an actual battlefield here - Mike and Carl were milita, not regulars; most of the action they've seen would've been running skirmishes and seeing off raiding parties.

Some Johns or Charlie might've mentioned it, though...
Carl Allans rolled 3,2 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 4,3. smart Carl?
...though if so, Carl doesn't currently remember. Onwards!]]

Coming up to the smashed lantern, Carl bares his teeth a little at the dark and pauses, trying to shake off the strange scent around here, nose and eyes stinging.

"Don't slow down - them red prarie dogs've done got him f'sure!" the Ranger urges, running past.

Instinct moves Carl more than conscious thought: two loping paces and he's caught the Wildcat by the elbow. She rounds on him, pulling her arm away. "Git off, Carl!"

Carl fixes her with a look, his skin itching all over. "..."

The Ranger glares back, her hair a blood-matted halo of gold highlights and dirt against her no-longer-entirely-white hat with her glow. "An' if't were one o' your'n?"

Carl lets his hand drop, licks his teeth and scratches at his would-be beard, glancing back as the others catch up. His sinuses and what passes for a conscience sting, but he's let her go. Wildcat pauses a moment longer, scanning ahead for a trail.

[[She doesn't strike it, though.
Wildcat Hawkins, rolled 3,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2. Trackin'.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:39, Fri 19 Sept 2014.

"I see sick here." Spanish Joe says, bending over a pile of vomit. He looks around the site. "And I see no signs of others. Just one fighter, attacking the air, then staggering away."

"It were some kind o' smoke creature." the voice of Jeb says from thin air. "I couldn't move through it, so I reckon it might have been part spirit."

Dr. Ward frowns. "This smell...it reminds me of...Back! Everyone, back! This isn't some mine gas--it's Chlorine!"

((OOC: Yeah, I was afraid of that, but i wanted to let all the PCs have a go before turning Ward into Mr. Exposition. Though he might not know it, either--he served back in the early part of the war, and left the service after Sherman's March in '65. Still, let's see what the dice roller has to say...

18:13, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward rolled 8,1 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 8,1. Smarts!

Also, Spanish Joe attempts to Sherlock Holmes the area with a Tracking roll:

18:15, Today: Dust Adders rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3. Tracking. Close enough to chip.
18:15, Today: Dust Adders rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3. red chip. Total of 6.))

"Who's Cloreen?" Wildcat queries, shooting Carl a 'drag me and be violenced' glance before backing off a little. "Ennyhow th' Deputy's still out there!"

Murphy mutters something under his breath, then speaks up: "Gas? They're using fucking gas? They run around all grey with their bloody hatchets and then they turn around and use gas? Where'd they get that thing anyway, they didn't bloody fart it, did they?"

"Chlorine is a what, not a who, and if you continue on down that passage, Miss Hawkins, you won't be coming out again. Chlorine is a deadly poison." Dr. Ward says as he takes a healthy movement back up the tunnel. "And that is a good question. I do not believe the natives are responsible for the appearance of the gas. It may very well be a manifestation of our ultimate adversary. Ghost Rock fumes are supposed to be poisonous--the serpent spirit may have animated it to serve as a guardian."

The Ranger stands still for several seconds, looking at the darkness, then her hands, then Ward. "I'm going on," she says, soft and steel-willed. "Th' Lord has sent power to my hands, Ah don't know why but I figger it ain't to jes' die of some bad air. If it be willed, th' same God as delivered Shadrach an' his amigos from the burning fiery furnace will deliver me from this cloreen stuff."

Carl had been frowning with the vague idea that chlorine might be a kind of salt, that ghost rock was probably not a kind of salt, distracted by the irregular nature of his own chest hair, then frowned the more as his hazy thoughts circled back again. Pa always had claimed Wendell over-packed the charges...what else had they done? What did they find, that needed killed so badly?

Abruptly, he realises the Ranger's been speaking, grasping the sense of it rather than the words as she briefly catches his eye. He nods her on, though watches her step forwards a little way before looking at the patch Jeb was last heard from and nodding him on, too, pushing off the wall to silently follow, his stride easy, confident as on his own ranchland. Each step is a demonstration to the rest that he believes the Ranger's faith is founded, and that he won't die.

Wildcat bites back a small kind of smile, out in front, and raises her voice to the dark enough to carry. "Deputy Bear! Charging Bear, fall back!"

"What say the rest of you?" Ward says, turning to the rest of the crew. "Do we rely on God's will not to die of poison, or should we attempt to find a better path?"

---

Jeb floats on down the tunnel, eventually reaching the wandering form of Charging Bear. "Hey! Hey! Listen! I found help!" he says, as urgently as he can. "The Doc's there...come on back, mebbe see him about that gas you got exposed to."

Charging Bear leans against the wall of the mine for a moment as his head clears though his lungs are still more than willing to argue with against the current air quality they've received. Coughing hurt like hell, his chest aches, while his eyes felt like they had just been on fire. It had been a  rough day ... night .. honest just a hard past few days for the native son.

Looking up, he notes the sound of voices and mutters to himself, "Jeb, Ward, Wildkitten ...? The dead come and decide to do a lot of talking."  Easing himself back to standing, Charging Bear attempts to find his way in the pitch blackness of the mine by following the voices. Part of him can't help but chuckle at the current state of his clothing.

((OOC: If it helps, think of the situation this way: [places on the D&D hat] "You are in a dungeon, and you have come to a hazardous place. To proceed, you will need to find a way of dealing with the hazard or going around it. Your time before the wizard finishes the ritual to summon the dragon is running low, so time is of the essence. What do you do now?"))

"I don't like to rely on God.  Yes, I know you do.  Hush, they don't know.  I always think it's better when people help themselves."  With that, Augustus walked forward.  He pointed his crazy-quilt scattergun down the tunnel, he spent a few second adjusting the dials and switches.  "No, not that one, we'd bring down the entire tunnel if we did that.  And no, not that one either, I don't want any mangoes."

He closed one eye, then squeezed the trigger.  A sound like a thousand tubas making love to a walrus blared down the tunnel, shaking the walls and nearly deafening everyone nearby.  As the ringing faded, Augustus lowered his gun and started to dust himself off.  "Well, that should do it.  Or it'll collapse the tunnel over our heads, killing us all.  Either way, we don't have to worry about the gas anymore."

Murphy stares at Spotswood. "You are a bloody Englishman, aren't you?"

He takes a few steps forward. "Lord, if you kill me now, I do have to say that I appreciate your sense of humor, but you really could have achieved that with less. So I'll be trusting that mad man's contraption has worked" he mutters under his breath, looking up at the tunnel ceiling.

"Can we find that bloody shaman now? I miss having the sky over me head."

[[Augustus...you owe me brain bleach, you wonderful heap of cheese.

For those of us in the way of the Pummel:
23:50, Today: Carl Allans rolled 8,3 using d8-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of (8+1)9,4. strength! Rawr!

23:50, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 4,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4. strength! CB's luck is improving, since he does not get taken out by a ballistic Texas Ranger.]]

Carl catches himself on the tunnel wall, wincing at the drug-distanced grind of new-set bone. Looking very annoyed, the wrangler catches Mike's eye and makes a slight nod at Augustus accompanied by a flicking gesture with his free hand.
"..."

Ahead, the Ranger looks at the ceiling, frowns, and mutters something about snakes. Even she doesn't bother pointing out they've just woken every Injun to their presence, focusing on calling for Charging Bear. "Charging Bear! That was jes' our sine-tist warmin' up - if'n you're out there, might as well holler like a steer on fire, cain't make much more noise..."

"Keep moving ... they'll have light." Charging Bear says reassuring himself before he hears the others' voices echoing. "Glad to see folks were lookin'."

"Smelling more than looking, like." Murphy quips.

"Sooo... shall we sing a little shanty now while we go? Good for morale and it'll make them quiver in their pants, if they're wearing any. I hear the red men hate to fight the insane."

Carl looks at the ceiling with an air of 'sure, why not?' resignation. They might as well hi ho and blow the man down fit to be heard in France at this rate.

"Guess you'll have t'teach us some of that Irish fancy dancin', too." Mike grins over at Murphy. He nods back at the hesitant doctor. "They see Ward doin' that they'll git scared of his crazy medicine for sure."

Wildcat, ignoring the banter, has gone straight to Charging Bear. In truth she's so glad to see a decent man she could hug him, but this isn't the time or place for such foolishness. "Wheer'd you go off to anyhow? We've got to check that shaman feller befor he's done chanted th' Snake up, but we cain't shoot him so as he drops th' picture, 'cause if that breaks we all go boom an' so does half o' Texas..." the glowing Ranger trails off, frowns at Charging Bear, then looks back at Carl, who just gives her an unfocused stare, and finally at Charging Bear again.

"There devil-moths down here too?"

"I was informed that this picture was the source of the Comanche's protection from harm." Dr. Ward says, coming up behind Wildcat. "Destroying it was Mr. Murphy's main objective. Where are you getting this information from, and what, exactly, were you told? I need to know precisely what it is we are dealing with here if I am to be of any use developing a counter."

"Tar-nation, feller, don't sneak like that, I'm armed an' jumpier'n a long-tailed cat in a roomfull a rockin' chairs...like I done tole you, it was some ol' shaman as warn't a Comanch' warned me...said Something Moon had planned t'kill a buncha whites an' bring the wounded back here to sacrifice on some heathen altar so's the Snake could use the power from their souls t'git hisself up. Only we messed that up back at town, so the only souls he's got handy are th' Comanch' souls in his photergraph."

"I weren't right sure 'bout the details, but I think breakin' the picture works out the same as killin' all the Comanch' at once - if th' Snake's there to eat 'em, they git et an' Scaly Belly comes up like a burst boil at a birthday party. If th' Snake ain't there, I think all them souls kinda...shoot into the Rock at once, which is too much ennergy or souls or somethin', an' it sets off a flash fire through the seams. I reckon your boys'd know more 'bout that." Her understanding of physics exhausted,  Wildcat nods back towards those that had been miners.

"Th' shaman said we had ter break up Ol' Moonie's ritual somehow, steal th' picture or kill him so's he fell real gentle-like, though I don't much like to try that last way nohow." She scans their way forward before drawing the party subtly back into full motion. "Figger if we could talk to the Comanch' somehow we could prolly tell 'em 'bout Blue Moon's plans, but I ain't sure as they'd be keen ter communicate. I got some Spanish t'rub together, but that's 'bout it."

[[In case anyone else was missing the walls of blue text...]]

Murphy yawns and rubs at this temples.
"Soooo... the new plan is now to go and talk to these lovely people and asking them to not mind our wee bit of business here, so that maybe they could please put their pointy things not into us while we go and have a nice chat with the bloody shaman?"

He shakes his head. "Ah, I love it when a plan comes together."
He looks about the group. "I do believe that we don't have the right team for the job then. We have a bloody Saxon with a trumpet", he points to Augustus, "who, no offense, seems to have been dipping a wee bit too often into the loony bin. Henry here is one prime Texan longhorn steak away from having a bloody heart attack, and we got fucking Tex here!" He shrugs, apologetically, at the huge burned muscular man. "No offense, mate, but you don't look like your coming to enjoy the spring dance."

He scratches at a speck of dirt of his shirt.
"Please excuse meself for rambling on like that, but I think it is time to re-examine our options again. Somebody mentioned something about a part of the group making a ruckus and drawing them off, with the rest sneaking in and taking care of the picture?
Just means we have to steal it before we burn it, innit?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Fri 21 Nov 2014.

Ward rubs his jaw in thought. "If the worry is that the shaman will drop the picture and break it, then what we are dealing with is the plate itself, not any paper pictures made with it. This would be made of glass--it won't burn, and would be fragile. Which means that Mr. Spotswood's weapon would be less than ideal against the shaman himself. Drawing some of the band off then stealing the plate would be the ideal course in that case. I'm gathering that we want to break the plate well away from the mine, or at least the parts of the mine where the Ghost Rock can be found."

In reply to Dr. Dexter Ward (msg # 228):

"Is that the only problem?  We have to break something?  I can do that.  I tend to break a lot of things.  People are always telling me to not break things.  Hush, no, I will not tell them about the time we broke Minnesota.  I'm sure we can easily break whatever you have in mind."

Charging Bear report his findings, his slight unease of the reappearance of Wild Kitten kept at bay by his military training.

"Ran into a lot of chlorine gas ... General Kursch loved the stuff ... this strangeness here made some of the gas come to life and attack me. Thus my lack of much clothing... afterwards I came back this direction. Nothing more to report."

"Ya reckon there's more of it?" Wildcat asks, missing Carl's small gesture to Tex behind her.

"Bloody luck o' the Irish, lady. What d'ye think?" Murphy grins.

The native son shrugs slightly at the question, "With all the energies that are roaming around this place ... I won't doubt it. Regardless we need to push on, find the shaman and deal with him." Charging Bear's eyes scan the group for reactions as he continues. "We've got a lot of mine to cover and not much time."

He glances at his own sorry looking state and frowns, "Anyone got a pair of pants?"

Murphy shrugs. "Sorry, mate. Didn't think to bring a spare. So, who's gonna do the drawing off and who'll be doing the stealing?"

Augustus raised his hand.  "I'll help distract.  You're going to need a large, explosive display to get their attention, correct?  We're good at that.  We still have that enhanced-yield dynamite sitting around somewhere...."  with that, he began rummaging through his bags, and carelessly lit a cigarette.

The lumbering, reddish-grey giant looms over Augustus, grabs the hand holding the cigarette, and squeezes. It hurts. Quite a lot.

"No smokin' in the mine. Mine blow up if you do." Tex growls. He grabs Augustus' trumpet gun, clearly intending to pull it away from the mad scientist.

Augustus dropped the cigarette, but looked in alarm as the big man tried to take his scattergun.  "Don't do that!  Put that down before you--"  The gun began to emit a low, pulsing whine.  "Oh drat.  Let go right now!  Either we're all going to be torn to bits and have our molecules flung halfway to Chicago, or we're about to be waist-deep in banana slugs.  I'd prefer to avoid both, thank you.  And no, fifty dozen banana slugs and five pounds of chicken would not be useful right now."

The lumbering giant of a man frowns, trying to make sense of what molecules were and whether banana slugs were good to eat. His grip on the device slackens. He glares at Spotswood. "No boom. Not 'til we get out of the mine. You make booms before we leave, I twist you into funny shapes."

Augustus starts to adjust a few dials, and the whine slowly fades away.  "The plan is to cause 'big booms,' you mendicant neanderthal. Only my 'booms' can hurt those native warriors.  If you want to survive, you best do as we say, and not get in our way."

Tex glowers at Spotswood. He didn't quite get all those words, but he could tell an insulting tone of voice when he heard it. He growls, and switches his grip from the trumpet gun to the lapel of Spotswood's shirt. He lifts the scientist off his feet, pulling him to eye level.

"You think I'm dumb. You think I can't tell the difference between booms an' bangs. I ain't dumb. You is dumb, askin' about dynamite, lightin' up cigarettes, while we all still down here...you is really dumb, fer all yer fancy words an' whatnot. So I says again -- blow yer trumpet there all you like, but NO BOOMS!"

((OOC: Carl? Wildcat? Murphy? Henry? Charging Bear? Do any of you have any input on this situation, or are you just watching it play out?))
This message was last edited by the player at 16:27, Mon 12 Jan 2015.

Charging Bear hakes his head at the interaction between Tex and Augustus. "I don't think arguing about things is going to be helpful. We need to get moving and do what we came here to do."

"I concur. Mr. Shaw, please let Mr. Spotswood down..." Dr. Ward says, then trails off as Spanish Joe begins waving he hand urgently.

"Whatever is..." Dr. Ward begins, but the scout presses his finger to his lips, then begins pointing down the tunnel. He cups a hand around his ear and points again.

((OOC: Notice check time!))

OOC:
13:33, Today: Charging Bear rolled 6,2 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of (6+1)7,3. Notice (-1 Fatigue).

Wildcat had noticed the almost unconscious way the Dust Adders had moved to circle that pale Eastern feller when he'd remonstrated with Tex. Her tension eased a little at Charging Bear's words.

"I were just about ter say..." she trailed off, then made a calculation and holstered her pistol, bringing the hypertemporal shotgun to bear on the darkness beyond Joe, finger off the trigger until such time as the Dust Adder would be well out of the way, well aware of the quiet Adder at her side.


[[I was at work! Well, I was asleep at the time that first lot of posts went up, then I went to work...food an' all.

Carl Allans rolled 2,4 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,5. Notice?

Wildcat Hawkins, rolled 3,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Notice? ]]

In the quiet, something can be heard. The soft scraping of scale against stone...and the occasional shake of a rattler's tale.

If it's a snake, it's a big one...or more than one.

((OOC: It's coming from the tunnel on the left. Obvious exits are: south (back toward the central chamber) and north (into the unknown).))

Augustus's hand brushed his bow tie, and his coat began to vibrate faintly.  His voice took on a strange timbre.  "You're obviously not smart enough to realize that our plan is your best chance of living.  Wildcat over there has most of the 'big booms', so if you don't like it, we suggest you talk to him.  But for right now, Put Us Down."

Got a 29 on a Puppet roll, the command is to put him down.  You get a Spirit roll to resist, but if you don't, my plan is to shut down the gizmo the moment Tex lets go.
00:08, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 29,1 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (10+10+9)29,1. Puppet.
00:07, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 3,4 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Notice.

Augustus finds himself unceremoniously dropped to the ground. And for good reason...the giant is backing away swiftly, a look of abject terror on his ugly, mashed-in face as a sudden rattling comes from down the corridor to the left...

...followed by a dozen very, very large rattlers, scales glowing with eldrich energy. Each of the snakes is at least a dozen feet long, and as thick as a man's wrist.

"Move!" Ward shouts.

some mood music

((OOC: Yeah, Tex is not going to be able to contest that, not only because of the Puppet but because he is deathly afraid of snakes.))

The muscles in Charging Bear's arms and shoulders twitch as he sees the serpents. His fight or flight response tends go more towards fight than flight. "Go I'll hold here for a moment then follow." says the native son to the others he readies his tomahawks.

OOC: I'd LOVE move to the nearest choke point where only 3 or 4 could attack.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg # 248):

((OOC: You're in a tunnel, so only three could get at you anyway))

"Don't you worry none, Chair'kee," Wildcat says, keeping her aim and her jaw set. "Reckon there's enough for both of us."

She throws a swift glance to Carl and shakes hair strayed from her baling-twine ponytail back over her shoulder, sighting. "Th' Saviour said "Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy", an' you know, I do believe Him."

[[Going to renew that Smite, since she's reloaded since then.
Wildcat Hawkins, rolled 22,1 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (10+10+2)22,1. holy (*&@ing buckshot, Batman!]]

Carl catches the Ranger's look and turns to make sure the pack doesn't split and bolt in terror, signalling Mike, Henry and Murphy to keep alongside Tex and stop him throwing a fit or getting lost if possible. Joe and Ned he assigns to guard Ward, and Augustus he ignores completely.

Although he backs off enough that the foreguard have room, he doesn't seem set to immediately start running himself: if the Serpent didn't want them going that way, it was probably the way they ought to go.

"Glad to see you got a new trick or two since last I saw ya ranger." Charging Bear says with a grin as he spins his twin blades waiting on the unnatural snakes to get closer.

OOC: I couldn't recall how wide the tunnels were
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Tue 13 Jan 2015.

((OOC: it's 2 characters wide. Probably time to draw for initiative.

14:35, Today: Mirror Serpent's Brood drew the single card: 10S using the Deadlands system. Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?

14:40, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward drew the single card: 6C using the Deadlands system.


14:42, Today: Dust Adders drew the single card: JS using the Deadlands system.))
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:42, Tue 13 Jan 2015.

OOC: Dice Roller keeps showing CB SUCH love
16:43, Today: Charging Bear drew the single card: 2D using a deck of 54 cards. Initiative .

[[Wildcat Hawkins drew the single card: 5H using the Deadlands system. init.

21:53, Today: Carl Allans drew the single card: 10D using the Deadlands system. init. ]]

Turn Order:

• Augustus Spotswood: KS
• Dust Adders: JS
• Mirror Serpant's Brood: 10S
• Carl: 10D
• Mad Irish Murphy: 6D
• Dr. Ward: 6C
• Wildcat: 5H
• Charging Bear: 2D

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:35, Wed 14 Jan 2015.

10:31, Today: Mad Irish Murphy rolled 6,1 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 6,1. Notice!
10:33, Today: Mad Irish Murphy drew the 2 cards: 3S, 6D using the Deadlands system. Initiative, Level Headed.


Murphy had been shaking his head at Tex and the Saxon mad man, but just as he had opened his mouth to say, well, something, he heard the rattling.

"Oh, good. The snakes are back. Took'em a while to figure out I'm not really Saint Patrick, ey, Carl?"
The small Irishman furrows his brow. "Don't think it's gonna work a second time..."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:36, Wed 14 Jan 2015.

Augustus spun around, with his scattergun ready.

OOC: Sorry, I was on my phone all day.  I couldn't cut and paste.

01:50, Today: Augustus Spotswood drew the single card: KS using a deck of 54 cards. Init.

((OOC: Augustus is up first!))

Augustus leveled his gun at the snakes.  "Yes, I know they're too close.  Perhaps some distance, then?  The sonic transducer should work, our audio-vibratory physio-molecular transport device!"  As he pulled the trigger, waves began to coalesce around the gun, then burst forth in a cacaphony of sound, not unlike if you fed twelve million beans to a goat.  Vibrations roared through the air, slamming into the snakes and sending them flying.  As the din faded, Augustus started to mutter to himself.  "Odd, they went in all directions instead of on a flat plane.  Well, I suppose there were too many muttering snakes on that muttering plane."

Anyone in a cone template has to make a Strength roll (presumably at -2, I'm pretty sure I got a raise) or be flung back 6 inches and is prone.  Thanks to the special effect of my power, they're all shaken as well.


00:23, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 6 using 2d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2. Pummel distance.
00:14, Today: Augustus Spotswood rolled 3,28 using d10,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+6+6+6+4)28. Pummel  .

The glowing serpents seem utterly shocked by the sudden warbling fart of the trumpet gun. They fly back a good thirty feet and land writhing.

((OOC: Yup, that's a raise, and with game inches representing 2 yards apiece, that's...that quite an impressive distance. Were you firing from behind Charging Bear and Wildcat? If so, they'd be caught in the blast.

08:09, Today: Mirror Serpent's Brood rolled 4,0,2,-1,-1,2 using d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of 6,2,4,1,1,4. Strength (2nd batch).
08:08, Today: Mirror Serpent's Brood rolled 2,15,4,2,1,5 using d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2,d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,(8+8+1)17,6,4,3,7. Strength (1st batch).

Not a single one of them saves. They are all Shaken.

I think I also need Strength checks (-2) from both Charging Bear and Wildcat, vs. 28(!).))

Charging Bear goes flying from Augustus's blast and quite literally was left seeing stars.

OOC:
10:34, Today: Charging Bear rolled -1,7 using d8-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+3)9. Strength vs 28.
Well that's a fabulous fail ... not going to burn a chip to reroll as its rather unlikely I can beat a 28 even with Elan's +2.

"Wh-" is as far as Wildcat gets at the noise, then isn't there any more.

[[Wildcat Hawkins, rolled 10,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+4)10,4. Resist! Flyyyyyyyyyying...wheeeeeeeee!!!]]

Wildcat, Charging Bear, and the snakes all go flying, landing in a particularly tangled heap further own down the tunnel.

"You moron!" Mike shouts at Augustus. "What in God's holy name do you think you're doing!?"

"No time." Spanish Joe says, tugging on Mike's elbow. "More coming."

"I bet the snakes are being drawn to that mad scientist's fart gun." Heavy Henry grunts. "It must be gettin' 'em all riled."

"Doc, we need to get going." Ned says as he tugs at Dr. Ward.

"One moment." Ward replies, pulling a silver pentacle medallion from his lapel. "These creatures are not of this world, and it will be useful to know how best to dispatch them."

He begins muttering in latin, and then tilts his head as if listening to some unseen voice. He makes a second gesture, but nothing seems to happen. He frowns. "Still experiencing interference from Tezcatlcoatl. Humph. Well, it was still informative." He looks over at Carl and Murphy. "Would you kindly extricate them from the serpents and get them moving? We will meet you up ahead. And let them know that the serpents can only be permanently killed with a dose of venom, either their own or from other rattlesnakes. If you kill any before you free them, make sure to keep the heads so we can harvest their poison sacs. That might be something to try against the enchanted Comanche."

"Doc! We gotta be gone!" Ned says, more urgently. "If you die, this whole thing'll be a waste!"

Ward sighs, and reluctantly lets the man pull him away down the corridor to the north.

((OOC: The Dust Adders hold their action until Ward goes, though they use free actions to curse out Augustus.

Ward uses his action to cast Analyze Foe, spending 2 power points to divine an Immunity, Invulnerability, or Weakness. He has a -2 penalty on Spellcasting rolls because the spirits he draws on for his spells are actively working against him down here.

15:53, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward rolled 5,1 using d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3. Spellcasting. Success. Ward learns an important weakness, he gains a +1 bonus on his Trait rolls that directly affect the snakes, and the snakes have a -1 penalty on any Trait rolls affecting him. This effect lasts for the next 3 rounds unless he maintains it.

He also activates his free-action Mystic Protection power as an added defense.
16:02, Today: Dr. Dexter Ward rolled 2,-1 using d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1. Mystic Protection. The Mystic Protection fails due to the penalty.

He passes an order to Carl and Murphy and then moves his speed down the tunnel. The rest of the Dust Adders use their action to follow along.

Cards for next turn:
Ward: AD
Dust Adders: 3H))

---

Carl is up next.

Carl's instincts prompt him: chase, drag, cut...but there was still the crazy with his gun, a blasting gun where the walls...don't think about the walls. Keep moving.

Carl swings about and lands a good blow against Augustus' chest...or rather, one of his control panels. It proves extremely solid, and Augustus feels almost nothing of the impact at all. The cowboy massages his hand, teeth bared slightly and a killing stillness haunting the set of his bare shoulders.


[[Carl decides to one-punch the scientist (see Magic 8 Ball), so that he's not running into snakes with a loose cannon at his back...he has an odd version of Cautious, but it's there.

Carl Allans rolled 13,9 using d8-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,(6+4)10. fightin'. Hit, Raise.

23:57, Today: Carl Allans rolled 2 using d8, d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1. damage, raise. lollerskates.
init. QH

How far away is the snake/Bear/Kat pile?]]

In reply to Carl Allans (msg # 265):

((OOC: From Carl? 6 squares, which translates to roughly 12 meters. That's assuming he was standing near Augustus at the time. It's within his pace. Were you going to move, or did you want me to move on to the next character?))

Forgot:
03:25, Today: Augustus Spotswood drew the single card: 5C using a deck of 54 cards. Init.

Carl glares at the scientist and moves away towards the Ranger's light.

[[sorry...hmm. Augustus isn't neutralised, but then again, Carl won't want Murphs walking into snakes effectively alone...yes. He'll move down there. Trusting the other Dust Adders to marmalise Augustus if he carries on the funny buisness.]]

Next up: Mad Irish Murphy!