"Before we start rustling up horses for bandits, perhaps we should take a look inside first." Jimmy says. "The guy said the robbers came in, there was some shooting, and then the fire started. Maybe your friend managed to get the drop on them. Or maybe they just killed him and went on their way. We don't know." He pats Wilder's fire suit. "But we have someone here who can find out. Maybe we can find a trail--and won't need that bastard's help at all."

"Now wait just a fucking minute!" McCall protests. "I already know where we're going!"

"Yeah? And what guarantee do we have you won't just ride out and leave us twisting in the wind?" Jimmy asks, his hand sliding nonchalantly to the holster of the gatling pistol at his side.

"Well, what fucking guarantee do I have you won't try to plug me in the back when I ride away, huh? Tell me that!"

"Cause he much like myself would probably just plug ya in the front... now shut ya complaining mouth and let the adults do some work." James said with a shake of his head. "Bullock, give me a run down of this place."

((OOC: Please correct anything you don't like, Marshal))

"When you go in, the store's separated by a few shelves to your right. They're high enough to form make-shift corridors, but most likely have collapsed in the blaze already.
To the left, there's the counter with the register. In the back, somewhat to the right, is the office. We've reinforced the walls with some metal bars because of the safe we got back there. Behind the office is a small washroom. If Sol's still alive, he's bound to be in there."

He grimaces. "There's another door in the back. I'll circle round and meet you there. When you come out of the office, go left, until you hit the wall. There's the door."

Wilder took a moment to get a mental layout but nodded to Bullock before he went inside. The gunslinger wasn't too happy with this hand he'd been dealt, but he wasn't going to let a man burn alive in this building either.

OOC: Talk about out of the frying pan into the fire X_x

Han watches Wilder enter the building, he moved as close as he could to the burning building waiting, hoping that Seth's partner (if inside) would not be past saving.  If he was savable, Han was going to do everything he could to heal the man.

The interior of the building is smokey and while the flames make everything bright, it's still hard to see much. Still, the suit works as advertised, and James doesn't feel more than mildly warm while inside it, and the smoke doesn't bother his lungs in the least.

There's definitely been a fight here, though. There's a streak of blood on the floor, as if something bleeding had been dragged. The drag marks lead away from the office and out the back door. Looking in to the office, it's apparent that this was where the majority of the fighting took place. Files and folders are scattered all over, and there's a pool of blood on the floor next to the safe, which is still closed.

There's no other sign of habitation. If Sol Star was here, he's not here now. It looks like he may have been injured and dragged away, if he wasn't killed by whatever left that pool of blood on the floor.

Bullock waits, anxiously outside the back door, Han and McCall next to him.
When he hears James' news, he nods a thank you, then turns to Han.

"Can you make his leg better, Han? And will you", he asks the Jameses, "accompany us?"

"Of course, Seth." Han says and steps over to McCall. Pulling out a few acupuncture needles and jamming them into him a bit harder than necessary. "Be still." he said and began to chant.

12:00, Today: Doctor Han Lee rolled 1,15 using 1d6,1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(8+7)15. Healing.

Don't know what his wound penalties are at the moment but that should be two wounds of healing.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:05, Wed 11 Sept 2013.

James looked about the space quickly, his eyes scanning as best they could through their portal to the world. "What a mess...", he muttered as he looked. Once satisfied with what knowledge he's gleamed the gunslinger headed back out into the streets.

"Bullock, Whoever was here ... had a heck of fight. Lots of blood and a big mess. No bodies though, looks like someone, maybe your friend, got dragged out, but I'm not sure if they were alive or not."

OOC: Notice?
17:13, Today: James Wilder rolled 2,3 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3. Notice.
white chip to reroll
17:13, Today: James Wilder rolled 4,2 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2. Notice - white chip.

The wound in Jack McCall's leg mends at Han's touch, though his power can't do anything about the other wounds McCall has already sustained.

"I'm with you, Marshal." Lonefeather says.

"Where's my horse?" McCall grumbles, not bothering to thank the boy. "Get me that, I tell you where they are, and get out of your life forever."

((OOC: That would heal 3 wounds, actually...even at -3, that's still a 12, which is a success and 2 raises. However, McCall only has 1 wound that can be healed without Greater Healing, so he's as healed as he's going to get.))

In reply to Jack McCall (msg # 17):

"You'll take us there, McCall. I don't trust you half as far as I could throw you."

"Fine." McCall grumbles. "I ain't fightin' on your behalf, though. once I've taken you there, we part ways."

He leads them up the tangled, chaotic streets, past soldiers attempting to contain and focus panicked crowds of people and moving horses, past the shells of business where looters work at stripping out the valuables, towards a great fire.

Several blocks of Deadwood are ablaze now...it looks like the Gem and all the nearby saloons caught fire not long after the Marshal's office went up. McCall leads them to a small hardware store next to the Langrishe theater.

As the group passes the theater, a familiar voice calls out. "Marshal! Marshal Bullock!" A woman with short blonde hair, burgundy dress, and makeup approaches the group out of the alley way, followed by a posh gentleman in a collared shirt, trousers, a fitted waistcoat and a cravat.

"Damn I'm glad I found you!" She says.

Bullock raises an eyebrow, surprised about Jackie's outfit.
"Deputy Wells? What.. why... It's good to see you." He finally finishes.
This message was last updated by the player at 00:29, Sat 14 Sept 2013.

The woman acknowledged her greeter rather curtly.

"Where the hell do you think you're going Marshal?  Did you invite all your friends and leave me out?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:45, Fri 13 Sept 2013.

"I ain't his fuckin' friend." McCall grumbles. "Ain't yours, neither." He shifts the rifle in his hands, though he doesn't do anything quite as stupid as brandish it.


"Ma'am, we're on the trail of some dangerous criminals who've struck both the jail and Mr. Bullock's business partner." Says a disheveled half-breed who has a gatling pistol at the ready. There's an ugly scar around his neck that looks like it might have been caused by a noose... "You might want to find a safe place to wait out the trouble."


He obviously didn't seem to know her very well.

Jackie did recognize the man in the strange suit that was bringing up the rear...that was the guy who'd been called up to the stage just before the trouble started, and who had been dressed in that get-up by Hyrum Burns and his "daughter." But The Professor had said Burns was actually a criminal scientist named Reginald Smythee...so who knew what he was really up to...

Was the Marshal in danger, surrounded by these hardcases?

"Good to have you here, Deputy. Are you armed?"
"Some people in robes with purple-colored skin attacked the jail and I have reason to believe they're the arsonists responsible for this fire.
He", he nods at the coward McCall, "claims to know where they are. He'll take us there. In exchange, he wants us to let him go."

Bullock makes a face as if he'd bitten down hard on something rotten.

"The other two have agreed to help."

When the Marshal says purple skin and robes, she looks quite surprised at first and almost forms the first word to a question.  "Doomsay-?"

She stops herself.  They may very well have purple skin in some cases but he did not say purple robes.  She lets it go for now, though it looks strange.  She's known to be a few cartridges shy of a box.

Wells gives McCall a look that could chill sarsaparilla, her solid jaw set forward as if she were contemplating putting him out of her misery right here.  It's clear she does not like this news in the slightest.

"Well I don't know what possessed you to make that promise Marshal, but I suppose you can promise to let him go."

Her current costume notwithstanding, the stern woman looks at the man who was the victim of a particularly cruel necktie like he just ate a bug.  She seems mostly confused by the other would be accomplice.

From somewhere in that ensemble however a locally well known Gatling pistol emerges.

"The safest place is going to be the hell away from those purple skinned weirdoes, and the opposite of where I aim to go.  I got the rest rolled up and stashed nearby, it's on the way.  Let's go Marshal."

Her eyes dart between the three, the strange man who'd been on stage, the strange man who looked like he'd gotten taller and now found it hard to swallow, and the one who ought to be in jail.

The man with the stretched neck grins. "You know, I think I like you," he says to Jackie and tips his hat. "James Lonefeather at your service. Jimmy to my friends. This fella here," he pats the man in the space suit, "is James Wilder. We're bounty hunters. Got caught up in all this."

"You keep your deputies back as well, Bullock." McCall says, "Or I reckon I won't be responsible if'n we don't get there in time to save yer friend."

"Why do we still need him anyway?" Lonefeather replies. "I'm a fair tracker myself. Comes with the job."

"Same thing. You might find where they stashed him, but can you do it in time before they do whatever it is they're planning?"

Lonefeather grins at him. "Yeah? You just threatened to lead us on a wild goose chase if we don't follow your whims. How do we know you aren't doing that already, as revenge? You've shot men for less."

"Only once," grumbles McCall.

"Only once? As if it makes that all better? You murdered a legend of the west in cold blood, McCall. Even if Bullock here keeps his deputy from chasing your ass to perdition, he doesn't have a hold on us. I'm prepared to chase your ass to Perdition if I need to."

Jackie smiles, but only internally.  She wasn't sure if anyone would pick up what she'd put down there, but they did and ran with it beyond her wildest hopes.

Her glance is fixed on McCall, hard and unwavering.  She looks like she just wants to plug him here and dispose of the pretense he's going to help somehow.

Han speaks up quietly but with conviction. "Debate at this hour only hastens death and defeat. We must press on."

James scanned the area looking for more information as was the gunslinger's way. "We'd best get moving ... more time we waste is time your friend doesn't have."

The deputy was focused on McCall.  That ornery snake in the grass was the only one holding things up here, everyone else seemed to be on board.

Wordlessly, she departed to grab the roll of stuff she'd stashed under the skirting in the alley.  And maybe try to remember what she was wearing, and do something about that too.

McCall grunts, and leads them on.

He leads them back behind Ayers & Wardman Hardware, next to the theater. The group can hear the sounds of stomping from within.

"When I was here, there wasn't a whole congregation...just the leader." McCall says. "I'd been looking for...for a place to sleep. He called me a thief and threatened to toss me to his worms. I told him I wasn't no thief, and he said he'd spare me, but only if I did him a little favor first. There was some girl who'd done something to weaken his position among his cult. He wanted me to kill her. Gave me a robe to hide myself when I found her, so she wouldn't know me right off." He leads them back to a cellar door. "This leads to the store room. Go through here, and you can get right under 'em." McCall says, then glares at Bullock. "This is as far as I go. You're here. I done my bit."

The stomping gets louder. "Better hurry, Marshal. Sounds like they's gettin' ready to do somethin' nasty to your friend."

"And did you kill the woman?" Han calls over his shoulder as he looks to make his way under the building.

Bullock seems to not have heard.
"What. Girl?" he forces through closed teeth.