Crouching and shivering in the cold damp, Jake notices his mounted friend is back, down at the corner of the house near the feed shed. He also notices awkward movement up at the broken window he jumped through; as he watches, someone/thing heaves over the frame and drops like a sack of offal.

*WHUMP*

The rider nudges his horse towards the fallen lump, still alert for any signs of whoever singed him earlier.

He shrugged. "En este pueblo, nadie es verdaderamente seguro. Pero ellos son mejor de más. Algunos más de others, pero si necesitas compañeros, estan bien. Probablemente estan más...preocupado de tu."

"¿Debemos tener miedo de tu?"

"Claro," the creature says, tilting her head down to gape in eerie semblance of a human grin. "-Tengo más dientes...soy muy peligrosa."

"Pero yo han dice al sacerdote que yo va ayundar...y hablar falsamente a un sacerdotes, serír como mentir a mi madre," she says reasonably, dropping down with a curiously ape-like spring and skitter before padding over to Hank and William, claws clicking on the floor.

"It's all right," Hardin assures Hank. "It- she told the priest she'd help, and won't go back on it unless we give her trouble."

Hank looks dubious, but heads out after William before he gets left behind, Jaquinta following at his heel with that just-unsettlingly-not-a-dog gait. The creature throws Adrian another of those grins, then is out of sight into the laundry room.

"Should self help arrest vampires too?" Alouette asks, belatedly looking around for the priest.

"Could I trouble you for an egg?" the Widow Bradshaw asks Adrian.

"Oh...sure," he said, taking out an egg and holding it gingerly, but securely, in his hand. Proferring the object to her, he said, "here ya go."

"Thank you," the Widow says, grabbing Dave to genteely dragoon him into sifting flour. Fortunately the clank is distracted from the cake-making process by helping Evans fix its crow-dented feet, but the egg doesn't appear to be of the crowcatrice variety, at least.

Hardin seems to have gone out into the hall or possibly upstairs after Percy.

[[cake for great justice! Good time to start planning what to do with/to the giant rattlesnake sorcerer when you find him.]]

Evans goes about helping to make the cake, while considering the situation.

((OOC: Who is still inside with Evans?))

Adrian watched them make the cake. He didn't have the first clue about baking, but apparently the Widow Bradshaw did. Probably why she was the cake lady.

"So what is your take on all this business?" Evans asks Adrian.

[[Everyone bar Hank, William and Jake, though only the Widow Bradshaw, Adrian and Dave are in the kitchen right now. *tries to work out where the clank's gone*]]

"They seem better - Lazarus has got his colour back, at least," Percy reports to his mother, then looks to Adrian. "Will it affect what the snake demon did for them...for me too, I guess, if we go fight it?"

Dave hands off the mixing bowl to Evans and starts heading to take the last puppy upstairs whilst the widow butters tins.

[[...oh, and here's Percy. He was sent to see if the guys upstairs were cured like he was by Sarah's bargain.]]

Evans shakes his head as he mixes. "I don't know. I don't trust the creature's generosity, however. And all that aside, we have a duty to put a stop to these creatures. If the bible has taught us anything, it's that snakes offering gifts does not turn out well in the long run."

He looks over at Liz. "Does Ward keep any notes about the nature of his dealings with these creatures?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 23:10, Mon 12 Jan 2015.

"If he does, they'll probably be in the study somewhere...but you'd have to get Glenn or someone good at that sort of thing to check for wards, and I think he writes that sort of thing in Latin, or possibly Ancient Greek..."

"I've never seen any of that side of things - just moved cows around," Percy puts in, eyeing Evans warily. "Carl had a theory, though...he reckoned the Snake, the big one, had played just about everyone connected to Ward to convince him it was just a power source that healed things...only it heals too much, so things come back."

"Carl thought it'd try and get the meat everywhere - Lord knows we still need to sell that herd to break even next year, without all-" Percy frowns towards the front of the house, then looks down and rubs his face. "All this. But an outbreak of deadders somewhere big would draw the cav off and leave small towns open for the Comanche. I figure it must've got wind of us fixing to get the cows blessed up at the railhead or Ward getting suspicious and changed plans, but I think there's something in that. It wanting to take over the CS in league with the Indians. Maybe more than that. If it's this powerful now...heck, I don't like to think."

"Is the Mayor conscious? I think I need to have a few words with him." Evans says to Percy, then turns to the widow. "Liz, if you have this, I'm going to go start searching for some answers."

Adrian scratched his chin as he thought about the situation, not sure about how to deal with the situation. "I don't know so much as I once thought I did. Never heard o' no big magic snakes and demon cattle. I reckon maybe the Ranger was onto somethin', always goin' on about snakes and such."

He turned to the Widow Bradshaw. "Mrs. Bradshaw, do you think the snake is maybe somehow magically bound to keep to its bargain?"

"He was muzzy last I was up there, but you could probably get some answers from him...seems to think you were going to arrest him, though, in trying to take over the town." The lad looks at Evans, too pale and skinny to be threatening but clearly ready to stand up to the Marshal as best he can if need be.

The widow nods to Evans and takes the bowl off him, shooting Percy a 'simmer down' look before turning to Adrian. Other than the distinct tremor on her hands as she manipulates the cake mix, it's hard to tell she was a hysterical mess eight minutes ago. "I think there are unfortunate ramifications for aetheric entities if they let untruth into themselves, since their morphic field is bounded by their intellect...one that regularly lied would probably end up mutated and 'sick', if not cease to exist entirely, depending on its size and strength."

"They can disguise, mislead or wriggle out of loopholes, however, we have a lot of contemporary and folkloric evidence for that. I presume that's why poor Sarah was taken: she said something about not harming her flock, but nothing of herself." She shudders and keeps shivering. "So I wouldn't say they were 'magically' compelled - such an untidy phrase - to keep their word, but it's certainly in their self-interest to do so."

Alouette patters back into the kitchen from the carriage house. "If there is a sheet on a man, is it touching to give him plus holiness?" it asks, obscurely.

[[There's the clank!]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:50, Tue 13 Jan 2015.

"Probably a reasonable assumption, given all the trouble he's caused, up to an including inciting a crowd to try to murder me." Evans says evenly as he coolly returns Percy's gaze. "But right now, I need to stop an Aztec snake god from destroying Blackthorn, releasing his copious spawn all across Texas and causing a plague of zombies that might very well swallow both CSa and USA whole. Recriminations and arrests are very far down on the list of my priorities. Please, take me to him, would you kindly?"

Percy mutters something under his breath at the notion of a crowd murdering Evans. He looks bemused at the request to trek back upstairs and demonstrate the Mayor is still where Evans left him, but bites back the urge to tell the Marshal to be darned since his mother is right there. "Fine..."

---

Up in the library, the Mayor has made it to the more padded chair by the fire, his wife and dog beside him. Abbie seems to be researching like crazy on the floor by the desk, her sister has curled up with Dave and the puppies by the nest, Spades and Lazarus are on the other side of the hearth (Georgia seems content to sit on Lazarus) and Gangatsu is sitting on the desk, tapping her scabbard against the side. John Smith's boots indicate the deputy is likely trying to catch some minutes' sleep behind the desk whilst their master joins Abbie in researching.

---

Back in the kitchen, the clank ticks for a bit, then picks out an ember from the oven while the door's open. Widow Bradshaw, turned away to get the cake tins to be put therein, fails to notice. Fuel obtained, the clank patters off back out to the carriage house again.

"Ah! Good morning, Mayor Bruebaker!" Evans says, putting on a smile designed to unnerve and intimidate, the sort of smile that promises hi-jinx and hilarity, mostly at the expense of the smile's target. "I'm glad to see you recovering well...good to know that my ministrations are effectatcious. Now, I'm afraid there are a number of matters I need to discuss with you, concerning recent events in town and the surrounding environs, and they cannot wait until a more favorable hour of the day."

The Mayor looks up blearily, clearly not in the best of temper. His small, dark eyes fix on Evans'. "Would you kindly go to Lago?" he mutters.

Evans, having already anticipated such trickery, taps his ear, dislodging the bit of cake batter he'd surreptitiously snuck from the mixing bowl and stuck there as Percy lead him upstairs. His feral grin widens.

"Why, that sounds like a capitial idea! Splendid, just splendid...first thing after we fix this mess you and your Enlightened friends have caused. In fact, I will turn in my badge and lite out with the first stagecoach away from here, leaving this town and everyone in it to your custody--right before I have a nice chat with the Texas Rangers, who are bound to want a few words with you themselves, assuming they don't just assume the worst and firebomb the whole town just to be sure."

Evans grins devilishly for a moment to let that sink in before continuing. "Or, as an alternative, you can help me save the world from your misguided bargain with Thing Man Ought Not Play With, and I will waltz out of your town, your life, even your whole bloody country if I must, and you can place whatever mouthpiece patsy you like in the Marshal's office, secure in the knowledge that my lips will be sealed and you won't need to waste any more money on assassins who will take it and run without doing the job right."

Evans goes serious. "I need information if I'm to put a stop to this. You were right in the heart of everything. I am your last hope of salvaging your wealth, reputation, and in all likelihood your life and the lives of your family. I've already saved your life once tonight. So hear me out, Glenn. You owe me at least that much."

((OOC: Using an Adventure Card to counter this, gaining Dispel and using it immediately to attempt to counter the Puppet. If nothing else, it's an extra chance to resist the effect.

8S - Arcane Inspiration
“I have no idea how I managed that.”
A character with any sort of Arcane Background can either use one of his powers as a free action or use a power he doesn’t have. The Marshal gets a draw from the fate pot.

19:51, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 17,9 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+8+1)17,(6+3)9. Weird Science! That resists ALL the puppets.

Marshal, you get a fate chip from the card.

And now Evans attempts to work his Snakeoil Salesman pitch on the Mayor.

20:00, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 4,5 using d8+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Persuasion. Tossing my last red chip on that for a boost.

20:01, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. Red Chip.

Total Persuasion roll of 9.

Edit: Actually, since this is a non-combat use of Persuasion, I get a +2 bonus, so that's actually a total of 11))
This message was last edited by the player at 23:16, Thu 15 Jan 2015.

"If the serpent is bound to stick to its bargain, those of us in Sarah's flock may be best poised to rescue her from it - as the serpent is bound not to harm us. That leaves a lotta loopholes though. It could harm us indirectly, or order other minions to harm us. But it couldn't do that itself," he said.

"Course, that still leaves the problem of where to find the damn thing."

"It probably doesn't expect anyone to come after it," the Widow points out, going over to wash her fingers clear of flour in the holy water. "If the birdies can tell us where its trail is heading that'll save us a lot of time, but...I'm not sure what we'd do if we caught up. Ward took all the dynamite that was here, and I'm not keen to try calling up a physical match for it."

She touches where the Beast stabbed her, gingerly, then draws a chair up beside the stove. "Ambrose's fire-thrower thing might work, but I'm not sure it'd stay dead...the Shaw brothers have some kind of connection to the serpents and I know both of them have been seemingly killed at least once, but they're always fine afterwards. Well, as fine as Tex ever is, poor dear."

Evans' first statement causes a deathly hush in the library. Percy makes an ominous shift of his rifle against his shoulder and Dave's teeth show in a thin line under his moustache. The Mayor colours with anger, clenching his fists at such talk, then pales as the mention of assassins gets a fierce reaction from young Bradshaw.

"That was you?! That stupid son of a, a gun assassin shot straight through us expecting the Ranger to shoot back!"

"Assassins?" Mrs. Bruebaker queries, lost.

"-and what do you think would happen if he'd done it right, huh?" Percy's flushed by now, staring down at the Mayor with all deference for age or station vanished from his features. "Blackthorn gets enough thugs we gotta run off as it is without making it look like the Dust Adders let gosh-darn woman-killer outlaws run around the town. We've kept you people safe since Bentley died-"

"Hell, since before that," Dave puts in, looking fit to spit. Al appears in the doorway as though by instinct, drawn by the growling.

"Wait, assassins? Darling, what are they talking about?"

"Pa?" Ginny queries, looking anxiously from the bristling cowboy beside her across to her father.

Spades is suddenly finding the mantelpiece really interesting.

"Never mind that," the Mayor mutters, too woozy to start lying.

"We'll give you nevermind," Dave growls.

"Things had to be done!" the Mayor snaps, then tries to bluff over the statement that's made his eldest daughter go sheer white by speaking strongly to Evans. "Our best hope is to throw in with the Snake and convince it to shelter those we care about - this night is surely enough to prove there is no standing against the thing. It is a god, Evans. If you want to live - if we all want to live - we must accept that. The world is changing more rapidly now than in the past ten thousand years on this continent, and there is no point in warmongering, no 'heroics' that will not result in more misery and more deaths. I...thank you for saving my life," the words grate a bit, "-but I have already almost lost one of my daughters tonight, and the more we provoke the wrath of that ancient serpent, the more likely we are to meet a terrible fate. This will not end with daylight, Evans. Not with daylight, nor the day after, nor the Texas Rangers."

"Speak your piece, but don't expect me to defy a being we cannot defeat simply because your pride considers humanity to be the best of fighting apes and cannot consider surrender. If we have any hope, it is there."

John catches Gangatsu before she can hie over there with her katana. The only other sounds are the dogs' whining and the low crackle of the fire.

"No, our best hope is to put the damn thing back to sleep, as was apparently done by the Indians before Columbus ever set sail!" Evans says, throwing his arms up into the air. "Dr. Ward obviously thought he could put the genie back in its bottle, or else he'd still be here. And if you want to speak to tonight's events as evidence that there's no hope, well, I would just like to point out that between the immortal bloodsucking abominations and mere mortals, we are the ones still alive!"

This was Evans' element. Convincing people of the impossible. Selling snakeoil and camphor as a miracle cure-all, convincing folks his electrical box that shocked them could put a spring in their step and improve their prowess in bed. Selling hope by bottle and pill.

"When the Comanches attacked Blackthorn tonight, we beat them, despite them doing some jiggery-pokery to make them immune to bullets!" Evans pounded his fist into his other hand to represent pistol shots as he spoke.

"Do you remember that spectral gunman I faced down when I got here? You know, the event that got everyone in town clamoring to make me Marshal in the first place?" He whistles a few bars of Dixie, the very tune he'd whistled back at the specter to mock it before using his hastily jury-rigged Gyromounted Pistol to blast it with a lucky shot. That was perhaps the most famous bit of the night with the risen dead, the part everyone was still talking about all these months later.

"Well, we defeated it again." Evans makes a cutting motion across his neck. "Permanently, this time. Because we have an actual angel on our side, Glenn. Sent by God Almighty Himself. The real god, not some overgrown garden snake with delusions of grandeur. It took that specter down in one strike. Deputy Vega is wearing its guns as a trophy."

He begins reeling back on the expressiveness, calming down the pacing to give Glenn a moment to breath, though he kept talking. "So is it really pride to think we can do this? It's already been done once, and we have all the power on our side. We are mighty, Glenn. We can do this. We just need to all be working together instead of at each other's throats. So what do you say? Do you still think the only hope is to trust a snake? When has trusting a snake ever done humanity any good? No, Glenn. Your daughter took down a vampire with a frying pan. A frying pan. Things aren't as grim as you think they are."

((OOC: I really want to roll a Persuasion check, but before I do, can I get back the two Red chips I spent on rolls that technically haven't happened yet?))

Ward's cat watches the exchange serenely from Lazarus' lap, saying nothing.

[[You may, and take a white with them for an awesomely Evans speech that is genuinely rousing/rallying against the darkness rather than complained into a bottle.]]