Bauer swings her shotgun at the creature attacking her, pulling the trigger as she tries to back away. The blast tears a chunk from the deader’s leg, causing it to lurch unsteadily to one side.

10:40, Today: Lena Bauer rolled 5,5 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5.  Shooting.

10:41, Today: Lena Bauer rolled 7 using 3d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,3,1.  Damage.

The zombie is shaken.

10:44, Today: Lena Bauer drew the single card: 5C using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Castillo’s shot creases the demon’s exposed skull, cutting a groove and taking with it a spray of bone chips. The bullet causes the monster to visibly stagger, its rapid pace slowed.

McDaniels is shaken by the shot.

Initiative Order

AS - Jim McDaniels
AH - Albert Cooper
9H - Jacinta Castillo
9H - The Dead
8H - Aileen Kearney
6S - Lena Bauer
6C - Dr. Ezekiel Q. Wayland
2S - Bryan Lee
2C - Tamsin River

Dr. Wayland, the floor is yours.

OOC:

Spending a Red chip to soak.

Vigor: 17

Damn...I almost wish he had gotten more wounded haha!

11:18, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 4,17 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,(6+6+5)17.  Vigor to Soak.

Dr. Wayland did his best to jump back from the slash of the demon's talons.  Not quite quick enough, they caught at his yellow waistcoat and dragged furrows across it.  But there was something much stronger than silk beneath that outer layer.  The force of it still knocked him off balance for a moment, but the Doctor quickly regained his footing.  He skidded around to a better angle on McDaniels, bringing up the voltaic emitter.  The trigger was squeezed.  The chapel was again filled with blinding, crackling light and thunder.

Recover from Shaken - 5 (Deluxe says Act Normally?  If that is not the rule here, I will toss a White Chip.)

Doc is going to circle slightly to the side so his blast will go through McDaniels and not through any allies.

Burst! McDaniels gets an Agility vs. 12 or takes....16 (25 if the Raise sticks)

Bryan's outwardly calm demeanor and his perpetually holstered sidearm might have seemed to some a peculiar but fitting reflection of the expectation that a Texas Ranger would be a steely eyed gunslinger. His willingness to talk and negotiate through even the most preposterous situations, and the almost uncaring grace with which he moved might even have seemed lazy. Those who hadn't seen him in a fight would be surprised by what came next as he took a near leap out the door, landing him square in front of a pack full of the walking dead.

Beckoning them to come closer, he waited while they did, ready to strike back at them defensively and fend off their attacks while luring them into striking distance so that he could dispatch a number of them. A slash came at him from one, blocked by an elbow. A second attack came for him, and he hobbled his attacker by a decisive blow to the knee. Another series of attacks one after another came at him, each time catching only a hard forearm, though one did come a little too close for comfort, claws clearly drawing blood from his arm - though he had pulled back just enough that it was only a scrape - returning a punch to another that took out its throat entirely, dispatching it.

What came next was a torrent of motion, the reserved energy of a spring unleashed. Stances that he had learned that had passed down from his ancestors since before the destruction of the Shaolin Temple blended seamlessly with new forms adapted by their descendants in the Great Maze generations later. Before they could regain their balance, two quick strikes decapitated one of them. Chupacabra Takes the Mark. His hand punched through rotting flesh and brittle bone, ripping the spine out of its chest until it snapped in half, sending it tumbling down so that he could take its skull out with his hand, which he then picked up and smashed into the skull of another, catching his balance as he waded through the dead by nearly flipping to one side, sending his leg up into the air, a snapping kick sending the head of yet another flying out into the press of undeath as he landed.

Where six had come to attack him, only one remained standing, hobbled from his earlier counterstrike.

OOC:

Bryan uses both of his actions from Quickness to strike out at the deaders surrounding him, for each using both his main attack and his extra attack from Superior Kung Fu: Wing Chun - and they are all Wild Attacks leaving him at Parry 4 until his next action. Damage includes his base strength, his Martial Artist damage, the raise, the Wild Attack bonus, and the 2d6 from Damage Field.

Attacks: 10, 11, 11, 11 (all raises over the deaders' Parry of 5)
Damage: 34, 27, 19, 29

Initiative: 7D

He's attacking the four that have been unaffected by his Damage Field, which should handily dispatch them given the above numbers, and leave one Shaken deader near him.

Alternative Visual: https://gfycat.com/jaggedmasculineisopod
This message was last edited by the player at 12:53, Mon 08 July 2019.

A fan of blue lightning illuminates the dim interior of the church like noon, catching the demonic monster in its blast. A howl of pain, an unearthly sound that evokes a terrible hollowness in the chests of all who hear it, rattles the walls of the iglesia. The remainder of the electrical energy spears into the corner of the adobe building, blowing a hole the size of a large door in it.

10:57, Today: Jim McDaniels rolled 2,1 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2.  Agility.

Yeah, that’s bad. McDaniels will burn a white chip for a reroll.

10:58, Today: Jim McDaniels rolled 5,0 using 1d8-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,1.  Agility - White Chip Reroll.

Marginally better. Certainly nowhere near what he needs to avoid injury.

That will hit with a raise. Since McDaniels was already shaken, every success is worth a wound. Which means the demon takes 4 wounds.

Naturally, he’ll attempt to soak.

12:29, Today: Jim McDaniels rolled 7,3 using 1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 8,4.  White Chip - Soak Roll.

12:29, Today: Jim McDaniels rolled 1,2 using 1d10-1,1d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3.  Soak Roll - Second Attempt.

Two white chips later, he’s still left with a fatal number of wounds.

The demon dies.

The creature collapses in a heap a few paces away from Castillo’s feet. It’s voice, now little more than an animal gurgle, manages a few words. ”Still..my town. You should...stay...for a bit.”

A moment passes and the monster’s body slowly transmutes to thick, black smoke, which is pulled down into the earth with sudden force, leaving no trace of the demon’s presence.

Outside, giving none of the wandering corpses a moment to respond, Lee destroys each of them with frightening, machine like precision. The lawman abruptly finds himself alone in front of the abandoned church, with no more of the restless dead in his vicinity.

To the left and right of the church, Kearney and Bauer prepare to keep firing at their undead attackers, only to watch them collapse to the street, leaving only rags, filthy bones, and a thick, tar like liquid on the ground where they stood.

OOC: Combat over.

Above, the sky darkens. Clouds the color of charcoal roll across the sky like an angry sea. In Angus, a chorus of tortured howls echo through the vacant streets; the voices, which seem to have no source, weighted with the very essence of torment.

Those within the church see the color fade from the adobe walls, deep fissures forming in the now ancient iglesia. Outside, those still in the street can see each of buildings erode before their eyes, the now gray timbers of some of the wooden structures buckling beneath the progressing decay, a few crumbling with a weak crash.

The wind, strong and steady, is ice cold.

Lee coughed, having accidentally inhaled some of the powdered debris from the crumbling, decaying buildings around them as they collapsed, moving quickly to cover his mouth as he stood there panting from the exertion as he looked on the others. He surveyed the others, and none of them seemed to be badly hurt in any way.

He took a few more steps in their direction.

"I owe Reverend Benton a debt of gratitude," he said. Without the sanctuary and the respite it had provided for them to make a more tactical attack on McDaniels, they might have succumbed to the press of undeath and a more frontal assault by the demon that could very well have pressed them to a much more lethal outcome.

"Well, it looks like McDaniels won't be botherin' anybody any more. I don't fancy spendin' much more time here. We should head back to Lincoln soon here, I think. Doc, you get enough o' that fella to collect the bounty?"

Albert nodded and glanced over at Bauer before looking back at Bryan. "We prolly all owe him our lives, Ranger."

Albert took a sniff of the air and gave Bryan a noncommital look. "Seems McDaniels might be no more. Not gonna count on it, though."

OOC: Occult of 9. What does Albert think about how the demon was dispatched? Going to stay dead? Or haunt our dreams and footsteps?

19:50, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 9,4 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+4+1)9,4.  Occult (will that demon stay dead?).

He looked around at the other disappearing bodies and imagined all the souls finally being freed from their shackles. "Unless I miss my guess, only thing left o' that fella's gonna be black liquid and some unidentifiable bones. Though I hope I'm wrong - bounty'd be nice ta collect."

Albert than looked around at the faces of the gathered posse. "Everyone okay?" His attention had certainly been on the demon, not on whether anyone else had gotten hurt.

Bauer slings her shotgun and climbs back through the window. Her face somber, she makes her way over to Reverend Benton’s body and, stooping down, picks the fallen pastor up. ”I’m gonna take him back home to Lincoln,” she explains, ”See if Father Narvaez and Ike Ellis can give him a proper burial. It’s the very least I can do.”

Outside, the howls and cries of the disembodied voices grow louder, the cold wind growing in strength, becoming powerful enough to pull loose timbers from some of the collapsing buildings and hurl them through the empty streets. Dust begins to fill the air in a hazy swirl.

”Hey ya’ll,” Kearney calls from outside, ”I think we might need gather our particulars and get out of here. Fast.”

Above, the sky darkens further, bringing what seems like a sudden nightfall to the ghost town.

Within the church, the walls continue to turn bone white. In spots, the earthen material begins to crack and crumble.

"Not a bad, idea," he said, moving to help Bauer with the Benton's corpse before they high tailed it out of there.

Jacinta had the same mind as Bryan and moved to help the deputy with the preacher's body, but Lee got there first.  Instead, she made sure that the books the preacher had in his possession were collected (if they hadn't been already) and then hightailed it out of the crumbling church.  In the street, she held a hand to her hat against the wind that had started to blow.

"Damned demon!  Trying to kill us even after he's gone!"  Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, she headed for the fastest route out of the decaying town.

Dr. Wayland had gotten a bit distracted by his gizmo after that last blast.  Upon "McDaniels" fall, he took the opportunity to correct a few things.  Loose wires.  A shifty looking alignment screw.  It was just a moment or two, long enough to have missed out on a few things. The increasing howling seemed to bring him back though, "Hmm?  Bounty?  Ah think we may be out of luck...theah..."  He trailed off noticing the fading and crumbling as though for the first time, "Oh!  Yes...  Leave.  Posthaste indeed.  Discuss the money latah!"  If there was a way to assist, Wayland would.  If not, he'd make sure he didn't lose anything himself and take a rearguard position for the group as they went.  He muttered something...but it was mostly lost to the wind....

Kearney collects her and Winters’ horse’s, making certain that the herbalist is safely mounted, before wheeling her own stallion back to the front of the crumbling iglesia, seeking to provide some cover from the powerful wind for those on foot. Castillo leads the way out, holding the books that were gathered from the church protectively against her chest. Lee and Bauer follow, bearing the body of Thomas Benton, while Dr. Wayland and Cooper bring up the rear.

The dust continues to swirl violently, partially obscuring some of the rapidly decaying buildings in the north end of the ghost town. Within the blowing dirt, figures become visible, their outlines made plain by the sudden windstorm. They make no move to interfere with the group that is leaving, merely standing stock still, watching the living pass like attendees at a funeral procession.

Moving with all of the haste they can muster, the group makes their way up the slope to the edge of the valley, the howls of the wind and anguished spirits filling their ears. Behind them, they can hear the crash of buildings collapsing and see small pieces of lumber sail past, splintering as they smash into the dense forest ahead. Reaching their waiting horses, some of whom have grown agitated by the storm, the group members are finally able to look back, seeing that the circling windstorm is slowly beginning to lose force.

Minutes pass and the upturned dust becomes a weak haze as the wind stills. Angus, for the most part, is gone. Only small traces remain of the community that made its home in the valley; broken timbers reaching up from the hard soil, broken remnants of an adobe floor. But they are few and far between. For the most part, all that is left behind of the once thriving town is memory.

Albert nodded at the suggestion they get while the getting was good. He did bring up the rear, though whether it's because he was being gentlemanly or just a slowpoke was hard to discern.

Once they got out of town, he tried to brush off the worst of the dust and dirt. After a bit of work, it at least looked a little better. But it was far from perfect. "I need a bath."

The normally jovial cowboy forced a half smile as he looked around. "Well done back there, folks. Ain't easy ta go toe-ta-toe with a demon like that. But y'all acquitted yerself quite well. An' that makes me glad ta be in yer company."

The cowboy turned his gaze toward Brandy and ran a comforting hand along the horses flank. He looked around to see how many people and horses there were to see if Brandy would get to have a second rider. He did add a little knowledge to the pot. "Based on what I know of those things...it'll be decades 'fore that same spirit'll have a chance ta haunt the livin' world again."

"Indeed. I'd greatly appreciate it if everyone could remain quiet about what's taken place here today. Not forever, just until this situation blows over. For one, I think it'd be best if Murphy and Dolan were to just kinda sit there wonderin' about what happened to ol' Jim McDaniels, and frettin' on losin' some of their best muscle. But also, if they find out who was involved here, they might strike out when we're not together. And if they got more like McDaniels who can do whatever the hell he was doin'...well, we best be together for those sorts of confrontations."

Partially, he wished that they were all demons, that way he wouldn't be obligated under the law to bring them in for trial. He could just get Cooper to make a whole passel of those bullets so that they could poke holes in them and get Wayland and his lightning gun and fry the bastards back to the hell where they came from. By the time it was done, though, he had no doubt that Murphy and Dolan would be in the hell where they belonged. He'd been in the business long enough to know that those two didn't seem the type to go quietly.

Dr. Wayland watched the town crumble away from the safe distance they had reached with bright curiosity, "Entropy.....decay.....center cannot hold.... gyre....gyre.....  Time....  Acceleration.... Can time /be/ accelerated..."  Cooper's words snapped him out of his reverie again, he turned about to join in the conversation with the group....rather than just speaking rudely to himself.  He smiled good-naturedly, first to Cooper, then to Lee, "I will, of course, be discreet, sah.  Though, if you...and perhaps the deputy there...would be willing to sweah out some statements confirming Mr. Stanton's expiahed status, my agent should be able to claim the bounty.  The greatah details of the situation don't need to be included."  To the group in general, he added, "I would be happy to advance anyone's shaeh in ready cash, should it be needed soonah.  It is the least I can do.  I do believe if you all had not come along, I would number myself amongst the restless dead of Angus."  He then paused, returning his attention more specifically to Lee, "Do I understand that my sehvices might be useful to yet more endeahvahs hereabouts?"

"I'll be glad to provide a written affidavit confirming the demise of Mr. Stanton once we're back in Lincoln. If the bounty is from Texas, we might be able to collect it from the Ranger Battalion in Santa Fe. I don't know who the rancher is that matched what Texas offered, but I'd be happy to attempt to impress upon them the key fact in the matter. Of course, I won't be able to get out of Lincoln until the situation here is resolved. If you can stick around until all that is over, I'll help you collect these bounties - and your skills would prove handy to have on hand in the interim."

He'd definitely like to have Wayland on hand in case there was more of this demonic type activity around Lincoln. He didn't know what had gone down in the Capitan Mountains, but the fella would probably be handy when he headed over that way as well.

"I can explain the particulars of the situation as we ride back, just so you know what you'd be getting into if you should choose to stick around."

Jacinta tucked the books into her saddlebags and swung up onto her horse, settling into the saddle.  She looked down the slope into the town and shook her head at the state of the place, hoping that the destruction had freed the lost souls that had been trapped there.  They were damned lucky not to have been added to their number, in her opinion.  She crossed herself at the thought.

Turning her horse away, she waited for the others to make ready to leave, leaning on the pommel of her saddle.  Her attention shifted to Ezekiel.  "I don't know too much 'bout that contraption you're carrying, but if it can blast a demon back to hell, then you're more than welcome to come along.  I'm sure there'll be one or two more of them that'll need the same treatment.  You got a horse?  Or do you need a ride?"

The deputy gives a sigh of relief at Cooper’s revelation. ”Good to hear. If’n I never see another of those things, it’ll be too soon.” Carefully, she makes certain that the Reverend’s body is secured on her horse.

”I’ll sure write out an affidavit for ya, Doc,” Bauer tells the bounty hunter, ”We were lucky to have you here. Things might’ve turned out a lot different if you hadn’t been along.”

Climbing into the saddle, she approaches Castillo. ”You don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at those books along with you, once we’re back in Lincoln. I got a feelin’ whatever’s in ‘em might prove important.”

”I’m kind of eager to put this town behind me. Miz Winter and I, we used a shortcut through the pine forest, tryin’ to get here quick. Ya’ll don’t mind me takin’ the lead when everyone’s ready, I can lead us back the same way,” Kearney offers.

Albert nodded at the Deputy's apparent relief. He also noted her suggestion that putting a couple heads together concerning the books would do better than one. "I wouldn't mind lookin' at them books, neither."

Seemed like a good excuse to spend a little more time with Jacinta, at any rate.

"Everyone ready and gotta ride? If so, shortcut sounds good."

She tipped her hat at Bauer.  "Figured as much, myself.  Reckoned the preacher got hold of some of the town's dirty little secrets and got himself killed on account."

She turned her horse to follow Aileen, though did spare a sidelong glance at Albert.  "Thanks for the bullet, Coop.  Drilled 'em hard enough to stop 'em in his tracks."

Wayland's mule was still there with the other horses, rigged with what looked like a miner's pack saddle.  In answer to Castillo, he said, "I have a mule.  Which is similar in many respects.  And superiah in many othahs."  He began dismantling the pack saddle, which turned out to be little more than an arrangement of air bladders, cloth covers, and a foldable internal framework.  No more real than the prospector mask he wore in the initial meeting.

As to Lee and the Deputy offering their written assistance, the Doctor confirms that he is, "Much obliged."  As to the idea that he and his invention were helpful in the confrontation, he noted, "I am happy I was able to provide such assistance.  And if there are more such, I am quite willing to assist in any further..."treatments.""

Beneath the false pack frame, the mule has a regular riding saddle and a pair of over large saddle bags.  The fakery is stowed away and his lightning gun is secured.  He then climbs into the saddle with all the grace and skill of a scientist. The mule remains solidly patient and long-suffering throughout.  Settled, he affirms, "I am quite ready."

Bauer nods in agreement with Castillo’s assessment. ”Thank you,” the deputy tells her, ”I’m obliged.” She gives the scout a long, thoughtful look, then falls in line with the rest of the riders.

”Don’t worry, Doctor, we won’t take it too fast,” Kearney assures the inventor. Taking the lead, the mustanger heads eastward through a narrow gap in the dense forest. The whisper of pine needles follows the group as they ride beneath the tall canopy and soon, along with the deep blue of early dusk, the buildings comprising Lincoln’s Main Street come into view.

In Angus, the dust settles, the restless dead now finally silent.