((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."