04:31, Today: Tamsin River rolled 6,6 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max ((4,4)).

Tamsin takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. There are many things to be sad about, but she has work to do.

“Of course,”  she said, making her way over to Roberts. “This will hurt,” she murmurs.

He offered Coop a wry smile.

"There's only one genuine article, that's the truth of it. But hey, I don't really have much need for these. Just in case your jams up, I figure you might could use this." He offered Coop the Doppleganger's pistol.

Albert slid his own pistol into the holster and took a good, close look at the one that Bryan handed to him. "Thanks, General." It was hard to imagine a copycat-creature being able to create a weapon as special as Albert's, but his imagination had expanded in recent years.

OOC: Let me know if I need to roll anything to determine if this is a Hexslinger's weapon or not.

Even before Lee picks the shapeshifter's weapon up, he can see that there are odd markings on the pistol, runic etchings that readily point to arcane power. The gun itself appears poorly cared for. Dirt fills many of its contours, and Lee can see small spots of rust on the barrel and trigger guard. Handling it, the Ranger notices that it feels noticeably cold, as if it had been left out in the mountain air, untouched, for hours.


Cooper has the same sensation when the pistol is passed to him. Unnervingly, the gun looks like a close replica of his own, and is assuredly the weapon of a hexslinger, but the etchings on the weapon are crude, as if carved by one who is inexperienced, or clumsy. The gun's condition, of course, reflects a state that Cooper would never allow his own pistol to fall into.


Roberts clenches his teeth as River removes the bullet from his shoulder. He lets out a sigh of relief when the task is complete and the herbalist dresses his wound with a clean bandage and a selection of herbs.

OOC: Taking into account River's edges, her efforts are sufficient to heal both of Roberts' wounds and remove his shaken condition.

Bauer does not look up when Kansas Kate approaches, her watering eyes focused solely on her fallen mount. One look at the horse informs the outlaw that the animal is dead, the shot having shattered one side of the faithful creature's skull.

Glancing around, Kansas Kate notes that there is no sign of Andrew Roberts' horse either. The bounty hunter's mount appears to have truly fled down the mountain.

A brief, chill breeze rustles the pine needles in the canopy above. From somewhere north, a trio of howls, the calls of wolves, drift through the stillness.

"We'll hafta double up on th' hosses."  Kansas Kate surmised.  She was a strange creature.  Kill a hundred men and she wouldn't blink, but she felt bad about the horse, even if she'd never show it.

"We need ta get a move on."  She was being relatively gentle.  Relatively.

Though there was something squeamish about seeing yourself shot up by your own rifle, Jacinta felt she needed to check on her own kill -- primarily to confirm that the creature *was* dead, but also to satisfy some strange morbid curiosity.  Had it really stolen her face?  She approached cautiously and nudged the body with her rifle, prodding for signs of life.

The dead woman's face is partially concealed beneath the brim of a leather fedora, the material cracked by age, its once brown color growing gray. Lifting the hat, Castillo is confronted with her own visage, the dark eyes empty, staring forward but seeing nothing.

The rifle at dead woman's side looks almost identical to Castillo's own, save for the fact that it is crusted with dirt, rust having almost claimed the trigger guard. The scout notices a few wisps of cobwebs clinging to the weapon's stock.

Another group of howls echoes through the trees.

There were times in life when unlikable, gruff people who weren't considerate of others' feelings were useful to have around.

"Shake a leg while we're still above snakes.  Come on."  Since the proximity to Bauer was established she put her boot in the other woman's vision.  "To horse."

"Huh. That's...weird. This dirt that's on this here gun - seems almost like it was buried before. Time isself seems ta be a little strange here." He pointed to the gun. "This looks sorta like mine, but wasn't created by nobody with th' actual skill ta do so." Which essentially made it worthless junk, unless there were any clues that it provided.

He pointed to where the ice bullet had landed. "Bullet makin' ice, well, that's a might peculiar. Means that this...creature...were able ta copy my tricks." Albert was obviously perplexed at the implications.

"Course mebbe it all don't matter if we don't see no more like these two. On the other hand, if the General there has a double, well, we might not be so lucky as this time."

Albert put a hand on Brandy, ready to mount and move. In his leaner years he would have offered to have someone double up with him. But poor Brandy was already carrying double.

Having seen enough, Jacinta left her double to lie and returned to her horse, swinging a leg up and over.  She quickly added rounds to her rifle to replace those she'd spent and looked around at the others.  "Roberts, you can ride with me if you can still ride," she offered.  The scout was slight and her horse still hale enough to carry two.

"If it ain't no use, then it ain't no use. Looks a mite...childish, the way it was carved into. Not like yours, Coop. I think maybe it was just part of the appearance of bein' you, and whatever made all that ice back there, that power came from somethin' else." He looked towards their destination.

"And I hope I don't have a doppleganger either. That wallopin' I gave Dolan, I don't wanna be on the receiving end. If he can't do that snake shake thing we agreed on, put him down."

He made a move to mount, and to see if anyone else needed a ride. If it was rough terrain, he might rather offer to be on foot but he didn't want to fall behind or hold up the group if it was easy going ahorse.

Roberts nods gratefully at Castillo's offer. "I'm obliged, ma'am," he tells the scout as he climbs up behind her, his rifle in his right hand, pointed to the sky.

"Keep a sharp lookout once we pass out of the forest. Unless things have changed since I last made this climb, there ain't much up ahead in terms of cover."

The sight of Kansas Kate's boot shakes Bauer from her seeming trance. "Right," she answers. Mechanically, she collects her carbine and saddlebags, draping the latter over one shoulder.

Standing, she notices Lee's pause. Approaching the ranger, she says, "If you wouldn't mind an extra rider, I'd sure be appreciative. I don't take up much room."

If the forest holds any more secrets, it does not reveal them. The pine trees offer only whispers, prompted by the mountain breeze stirring their branches overhead.

In a short distance, the riders reach the edge of the woods, the soil becoming hard and packed, in spots, replaced completely by stretches of weathered gray stone. Ahead, just as Roberts had warned, lies an open expanse of gently sloping terrain, patched intermittently with clumps of snow. Only a few skeletal trees mark the ground, along with a meager collection of boulders to the east.

In the center of the expanse, perhaps fifty yards from the treeline, is what most of the riders recognize as a burial ground. Many of the graves are wooden pallets raised several feet above the ground by wooden poles, a burial method used by both the Apache and Comanche peoples. There are a number of such monuments, easily forty or more, the ancient ornaments that hang from some of them shifting quietly in the breeze. Mingled with the pole mounted graves are a large number of cairns, simple stacks of stones that mark a site of burial. A few paces west of the graveyard stand the broken remains of several covered wagons, each one empty and reduced to a mere framework by the elements.

Besides the breeze, nothing moves within the graveyard. After a moment, the silence is broken again by a group of distant howls.

Lee nodded solemnly, understanding the loss of a mount.

"Of course," he said simply.He leaned down to give Bauer a hand, and freed up a stirrup for her to use in getting up, and the two rode quietly toward their destination.

When they arrived, he dismounted, handing her the reins as he surveyed the situation on foot.

"I knew those wolves were followin' me," he muttered under his breath as he looked about.

OOC:

Notice: 8

Getting a sense of what kind of trouble might be afoot, particularly with respect to

10:38, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 8,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Notice.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Fri 03 Apr 2020.

"Don't tech enny of this mess."  Kansas Kate grumbled without even meaning to, but it just struck her that disturbing any of these structures was probably just the worst idea ever.  The admonition was meant for herself but perhaps it was good advice for anybody.

The wolf howls had her head on a swivel though.  Scattergun in hand, she slid down, and started scanning for an ambush.

Albert grunted at what he saw. He pulled his gun from its holster and frowned as Bryan dismounted and started to look about.

While the general was commenting on the wolves, Albert considered what he knew about the burial rituals and how it might affect this particular location.

OOC: Not a bust!

09:53, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 2,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,2.  Knowledge (Occult).

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to come up with anything useful. Instead he just gave a standard warning. "Careful, General."

Bauer and Kearney join Kansas Kate in surveying the open ground around the graveyard, but none see any wolves nearby. By appearances, the riders are alone on the mountain.

Buckshot Roberts swings down from Castillo’s horse, his eyes narrowing as he studies the collection of monuments. ”The wagons weren’t here the last time, naturally. But everythin’ else was.” Those in close proximity to the bounty hunter notice him shudder.

Several moments pass, but no more howls echo down the mountain.


Shabbakasha climbs down from his horse and joins Lee as the Ranger examines the scene before the riders. After a moment, the Comanche shaman looks to the lawman and nods grimly, clearly having observed the same things that Lee has.

The wind stirs, rustling the trees behind the gathered posse and sending a fresh chill through all of them. For an instant, each of the riders has the unsettling, momentary sensation that the breeze carries voices, a collection of whispers, the words of which cannot be fully perceived.

OOC: Everyone kindly provide me with a Spirit roll.

21:08, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 2,6 using d8+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5.  Spirit! Some people fear it!

FWIW If this is actually a Fear check my result would be an 8, or even an 11 with Grit.

"Hmmm." Albert frowned as he listened to see if he could discern the voices on the wind. At least it didn't unsettle him terribly.

OOC: 9 Spirit


19:21, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 9,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+3)9,5.  Spirit.

A Texas Ranger and a Comanche working side by side was a strange sight at any time, but up here, with all they had seen and done in the last few weeks, it seemed a perfectly normal thing. He shook his head a the sight. They may not be his people, but he understood and respected their ways, so he couldn't like what had come to pass here.

"The sanctity of this place has been fouled," he said. "Each grave defiled. The protection from the medicine of these people's shamans taken away."

He pointed out the footprints for those that seemed not to have found them. "Ten sets of footprints up here. Two went down that way, way we came. I'm guessin' those were the dopplegangers we've seen. All y'all stay close. Maybe more doubles out here somewhere."

He shivered for just a moment as the breeze took him and then stared in a very peculiar fashion into nowhere as he seemed to whisper back at the wind, scowling.

OOC:

Spirit: 8 (10 if for fear)

13:39, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 8,8 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Spirit.

Jacinta joined the shifter on the ground, leaving her mare tied at the treeline.  Gaze narrowing as she peered about the burial ground, she took a few steps forward to study the area in search of a trail or path to follow but saw nothing of note beyond what Bryan had pointed out.  Her head tilted slightly as the breeze passed through the group, eyes narrowing slightly in concentration.


Tracking: 2
Spirit or Fear: 4 or 6

11:35, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 2,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,2.  Tracking.
11:33, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 6,6 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4.  Spirit (Fear).

As the breeze passes over the riders, it seems to find a greater strength, the chill it carries deepening, the cold sharp enough to sting. The noise of murmurs, of whispers, grows as well, leaving most that are present with the conviction that the voices they perceive are not merely a trick of sound.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:24, Thu 09 Apr 2020.

"The stories sung by my people say that this place was once a battlefield," Roving Wolf says, his gaze not straying from the nearby graves, "That many braves fell to hold back the shadows raised here by those consumed by anger. By pride. Those that died were buried here. That they might keep watch, should the darkness ever awaken again."