[DLR] Campaign Battle Report (update 10-18-13) - Coffin Rock

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[DLR] Campaign Battle Report (update 10-18-13) - Coffin Rock

#1 Postby Bandito » Thu Nov 08, 2012 12:47 pm


Chapter 1: A Dirty Stranger Calls

A Bounty Hunter (Col. Kelso), a Texas Ranger (Trotter, Texas Ranger), a Huckster (Daniel Hemlock), a Mad Scientist (Dr. Bob), and his bodyguard (Martin Vore), a Gunslinger each received a mysterious correspondence postmarked Sugar Skulls, New Mexico Territory. The letter identified the sender as a Lawyer, one Sr. M. Black, Esq., and contained no return address. The letter listed 4 other individuals as having been sent a copy of the letter, and mentioned something about a deceased relative, a vast fortune, and a reading of a will to occur in 30 days. The letter also mentioned that unseen dangerous forces afoot warranted discretion and secrecy regarding the letter.

The letter was unclear, however, as to where exactly the reading of this will would occur - something about "Thirsty Devil," whatever or wherever that heck that is. To make things worse, they also noticed that by the time each of them had received the letter, 30 days after it had been sent, they would miss the reading of the will! - Dangit! Interestingly the letter also contained a piece of a playing card!

After a couple of days of contemplation and wasted money on unanswered telegrams, a mysterious and dirty stranger approached each posse member as they fuddled about their hometown, and handed them each a discolored and crumpled envelope. Inside each found a one way ticket via Dixie Rail Lines to Tontine, New Mexico Territory.

The train left the very next morning, October 31. The posse members separately boarded the train - not knowing each other by sight, as they only had each others' names from the letter. The passengers endured an uneventful train ride and finally arrived in Tontine, New Mexico Territory. Four strangers disembarked the train just as night was approaching. A fifth stranger, Trotter - Texas Ranger, must have been momentarily detained in the privy, and disembarked later unseen by the others.

As the four strangers stood there, luggage in hand, they noticed that directly before them stood the Rojas Cantina. Piano tunes drifted out of the batwing doors of the cantina, punctuated occasionally by rowdy and raucous voices. The four briefly introduced themselves as they stood there, the rhytmhic sounds of the train releasing steam sounded like a giant slumbering beast. Soon the train would leave to more important and less dusty places. The mad scientist was quick to discuss with the other three strangers, letter in hand, the exact nature of his journey to Tontine, his bodyguard, the Bounty Hunter unsuccessfully tried to silence him. The Huckster, Daniel, identified himself as a traveling toy salesman. Soon they found the common reason which had brought them to this desolate place - and learned that they might share a relative in common - the brother of their grandfather - their granduncle Hellvore. They also learned that each held a piece of a playing card - Ace of Spades! - and that the pieces all fit together - there was however, at least 1 piece missing. They were a posse of four!

Eventually they walked into Cantina Rojas and met the pencil moustachioed Kegan, a gamblin' man who claimed to eat chicken one day and feathers the next. Soon they joined him in a friendly game of poker. After some heavy losses, Kegan grew red in the face and visibly angry; then the Bounty Hunter made out like a bandit, and Kegan became irate and accused the posse of cheating him. He called his 10 thugs to make things right.

Always the diplomat, the Huckster Daniel, who was smoking a good cigar, began passing out cigars to those around him as a sign of good will. This gesture, while well received by some, was not welcome by others. While the Huckster hoped to catch a rumor or two, being prone to bad luck, all he caught was a fist full to the face. This first punch of the night landed squarely and with such extreme force as to split the cigar he smoked and splay it flat across his face like a black, ashen flower. The Huckster at first had a dazed look as he stood there, a broken ring of smoke hung in the air for a second, and the smouldering cigar ashes crushed into his face sent up small wisps of smoke - then suddenly he went snake-eyed and fell like a sack of oats where he stood. And there he lay until the next day.

Instinctively the Mad Scientist jerked open his lab coat and pulled out his instrument of death – an electric annihilator gun of his own design. The scientist wreaked devastation upon the brutes – turning his gun up to full power, he neutralized three of the toughs – who quivered on the ground and twitched spastically as the electrical pulses within them slowly subsided.

The Gunslinger, who was the Mad Scientist’s bodyguard, sprang to his feed and instantly whipped out his twin revolvers – laying waste to two of Kegan’s minions in short order. Later he finished off several more before his guns even cooled down.

Meantime the Bounty Hunter was laying low in the north-eastern corner of the cantina sipping some Mexican moonshine. He was trying to stay out of the melee, but trouble found him soon enough.

The Texas Ranger entered the fracas and tried to bring some order – with a rebel yell he sent friend and foe alike into a shaken stupor – so intense was his yell that they stood there like slack-jawed yokels – unable to react. The Ranger then pummeled and hog-tied Kegan as he tried to make an escape out the front door – in fact he hog-tied everyone who didn’t fight back, even the incapacitated Huckster - until he could sort out exactly who was who, he having arrived late at the cantina, and missed the hasty introductions which occurred outside.

When the fight was over, the piano player started in on the song that had been interrupted 30 seconds earlier, and the patrons returned to their drink and lies. The pretty Mexican barmaid offered the posse, those who were conscious, anyways, shots of high-end tequila and invited them upstairs to meet Senor Rojas, the cantina’s proprietor. This swarthy, short and plump man welcomed them with a sweaty handshake – then offered them a job. “Would you be willing to escort a present to my brother Felipe in the village of Sugar Skulls for $25 dollars in advance each and a promise of another $25 upon delivery?”

The posse, ever the opportunists, seized upon this chance to go to the town from which the lawyer’s letter had been sent – and where they were to meet for the reading of the will.

Upon learning that the others were on their way to Sugar Skulls, the Texas Ranger considered casting his lot in with these ne'er-do-wells. Well, he would at least travel with them for now.

The Huckster lay there hog-tied next to Kegan for the next nine hours, only to awaken the next day with the second worst headache of his life. As he lay there, he found it odd that he recalled the goings on of the evening before with perfect clarity, as if it he had been awake and conscious - even though his eyes were swollen shut the night through. It was almost as if he had seen through the eyes of another – perhaps the Manitou within him… no, he must not speak of such things… the secret must remain hidden lest he tempt the hangman!

THE END - until we play again on Tuesday, November 27 (or earlier if possible)

p.s. this adventure is a retooled Gatling Decision
Last edited by Bandito on Fri Oct 18, 2013 12:21 pm, edited 25 times in total.

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#2 Postby Nordicnomad » Fri Nov 09, 2012 1:25 am

Solid. Hog tying everyone in the room was a nice touch.

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#3 Postby LegendaryBard » Fri Nov 09, 2012 10:11 am

Appreciate ya sharin' with us, Marshal.
Not actually that savage.

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Chapter 2 - Train to Nowhere

#4 Postby Bandito » Wed Dec 12, 2012 4:32 pm


Chapter 2 - Train to Nowhere

From the journal of Martin Vore, Gunslinger (by one of my players!)

Right after we got done sorting out the obnoxious gamblers and being congratulated by the proprietor of the bar, we, for some unknown reason, decided to agree to transport an unknown package to his brother, Felipe, in Sugar Skulls, New Mexico. I suppose it is as good an idea as anything. I somehow seem linked to these other strangers. I have no idea why they would have cut up sections of the same card as I received. A Texas Ranger who takes his job pretty seriously, a bounty hunter whose motivations seem completely foreign to me, and a smooth talking huckster. What on Earth could I possibly have in common with these men? Their motivations seem as foreign to me as their backgrounds. I’m just a young guy whose pretty decent with a gun. Added on top of that I have a promise made to one of the only men I’ve ever respected to keep this mad scientist alive. This is not how I envisioned my life going. I liked the structure of the military life and working for General Torrance, but all of that is gone now. The only thing I really know how to do is shoot a gun and I guess that has been coming in pretty handy, but I am completely lost without the structure, discipline, and orders that were the bread and butter of my military existence. My mother would tell me that people’s lives were always changing. I never believed her until now. Boy was she right.
Anyway, my new group of “friends” were discussing what to do and making the arrangements for completing this job of babysitting a package. We learned that the first step was to take a train to Alturas. We are going to need to get our own horses when we get there. That will be a huge relief because after fleeing from the General’s shot up headquarters, I took a lot of gear with me and it is getting tiring carrying it all.
The proprietor allowed us to stay the night in his inn. Halloween night. That holiday always seemed kind of grim and unpleasant to me. As we were getting settled, the proprietor’s little helper started dragging our handiwork out of the saloon and inn. Better him than me. They were a threat, so I eliminated them. Plain and simple. For some reason I can’t fathom, the Texas Ranger seemed preoccupied with making sure they got a “proper burial” or something like that. I respect the man and his dedication, but I had no interest in seeing this get done. Nevertheless, if he wanted to expend the energy on that, that was his prerogative. I had no time for such things. I am a man of honor, but these men were trying to kill me and kill my charge. They had to be eliminated. What happened to their rotting corpses was of no concern to me.
Once we could, we took a rest for the night. After our showing in the saloon, I was confident that no one would molest me or the members of my new posse. When we woke up, the huckster was feeling a bit better, which is to say maybe just a few inches away from death. I wanted to question this Keegan character and why he felt the need to threaten us, which was what sealed his men’s doom. At first the Texas Ranger denied me access on the pretense of wanting to make sure we weren’t going to shoot Keegan. Dr Bob decided to play along and assured Arlen the Texas Ranger he would shoot him. Me, I refused to make any such promise. This man was a potential threat to us if he reported what he had seen to other so I was not about to make some promise I had no intention of keeping. That is not honorable. I was barred entry. I briefly contemplated shooting the door open, but the risk that someone got hurt unnecessarily was too high. I found the pretty Mexican barmaid to get a key to the room, but she proved unhelpful. Either she really didn’t have a key or she was unwilling to give it to me. I could not find the proprietor as well.
Then, inspiration struck me. General Torrance always told me to bear in mind that there could be more than one way to solve a problem and the obvious or most efficient solution was not always the only solution or the best solution. I guess, in hindsight, this was essentially the same thing as the phrase my mother would commonly use – there’s more than one way to skin a cat.
I went back up to the room where the Trotter had Keegan holed up for some sort of interrogation. I knocked on the door again.
“Who is it?” Trotter’s Texas drawl came from the other side of the door.
“Me. Let me in.” I said.
I could feel Trotter’s impatience on the other side of the portal. “Promise me you AREN’T gonna shoot him” I heard him say with undisguised exasperation.
“I promise not to shoot him,” I said with all sincerity, while running my finger over the butt end of my Bowie knife. A swipe with this thing across his throat would kill him just as much and I didn’t have to break my word. Like my mother said, more than one way to skin a cat. I had a pretty big cat in there, but then again, I had me a pretty big knife with which to skin it.
The door opened and I entered, eager to get the interrogation under way. Seems like maybe Trotter was still one step ahead of me. He asked a few more questions and when he didn’t get the responses he wanted, he shot Keegan dead. Skinning a cat indeed.
That bit of unpleasantness done, our new group went to the train station to get underway. We still didn’t have our package, so I hoped we weren’t getting duped or that someone would drop it off. Turned out the latter was the case. The trained pulled in and we all boarded. We learned that our “package” was in fact a huge crate. For some reason, all of my new group other than me and Dr. Bob decided to spend the trip in the passenger compartment. I, on the other hand, took the assignment a bit more literally. If I was to watch over and protect the package, I was going to stay with it. I moved into the cargo compartment and stood guard over it. Mr. Rojas the proprietor had evidently hired some other guards or something because I was relieved to see two other men in the compartment to watch over the cargo. Thankfully Dr. Bob stayed in the same compartment with me, so I didn’t have to worry about him on top of everything else.
We got about half way to Alturas before the problem arose. It appears that a large contingent of armed men riding horses were intending to hijack the train. I had no contact with those of my group that stayed in the passenger compartment, but as soon as it was clear that trouble found us, I hoped that they were okay and that they had the ability to help us out. Almost immediately, the wooden cargo door to our train compartment exploded inward and chunks of sharp, burning wood flew inward and decapitated the guard that was in the locked cargo compartment with us. At least he went quickly. There was another guard in our compartment, but he was outside our inner locked section of the cargo compartment. It would take time for him to get to us and time was not on our side. An Indian makes a go at me with a Tomahawk, but he looked more dangerous than he really was and he tripped and fell on his face right in front of me as he jumped into the train. Another Indian was a bit more successful. He jumped in and shoots Dr. Bob. My mind nearly exploded in shock as I saw Dr. Bob get him and crumple to the floor. The idea of having another person I am charged with protecting dying on my watch is more than I could possibly handle. Off in distance, I can hear gunfire all over the place in the car right behind us, right where my new “friends” are located. So much for them being safe. Acting on pure instinct, I shoot the two Indians who invaded our car. Both of them are hit, one of them critically. The guy who fell somehow wasn’t killed. Just then, a mean looking man wearing a serape jumps into the compartment with us. A take another pair of shots. I hit the prone man again and this time he has the good grace to die like he should have with the first shot. I hit the serape man again, but he is WAY tougher than he looks and his merely jarred as a bullet rips superficially through his side. I am even more surprised when two more hijackers jump into the compartment. It is just me with this supposedly precious package. The two newcomers maneuver to take cover from me. In a moment of true stupidity, their movement distracts me and the Serape man rushes up to me and takes a swing at me with a blade. That doesn’t quite make it, but I am immobilized. If I try to move, he will almost certainly try to slash at me again with his huge blade. And I thought MY Bowie knife was big. I shoot at him again, but again somehow death evades him. He’s clearly showing signs of problems. Having two bullet holes in you will do that. I also shot one of the newcomers and hit him, but again, this hijacker is only harmed. Am I losing my skills? I have no idea what is going on in the other car. I am grabbed by the serape man, which forces me to expend effort to get out of his grasp. That is problematic since time and energy used on getting free is time I did not use putting lead into the other hijackers’ skulls.
Even though it is dangerous, I shoot at the serape man. Shooting someone that close for me is a bit problematic. But fortunately, I get him. But he is still not down. I decide to shoot him again instead of going after one of the new, further away intruders. Serape man takes get another slug, but STILL isn’t dead! This is NOT good! How can this man still be alive? Is it really even a person and not some infernal machine or some devil incarnate? It makes little difference now. A few shots go my way but luck seems to be with me and they miss. I use this opportunity to put some distance between me and the downed serape man, who is clearly the leader of the hijackers – or at least he seems like he is. Because of that, I decide he has to be my main target. He tries to get up. I shoot him two more times. This finally does him in.
One of the guards finally gets into what is left of the compartment. He tries his best, but he isn’t really all that effective. I think I can hear two of my companions making their way into the same compartment with me. I maneuver to get some cover and shoot at another hijacker, killing him. The last hijacker, seemingly understanding that he is completely outgunned and without a leader, jumps off the train.
We survived if only barely. My numbness begins to subside as we attend to Dr. Bob, who seems as though he is going to make it.

Last edited by Bandito on Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:08 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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Chapter 3 (summary) - Anyone got some glue?

#5 Postby Bandito » Thu Dec 13, 2012 6:54 pm

I am waiting for my players to come up with their own accounts of what happened, but meantime I posted this brief, incomplete summary of the game on my campaign page.

"The posse was hired to safeguard and transport a large, heavy crate containing unknown cargo and marked "fragile." They set out in a rented buckboard, carrying the incapacitated body of Dr. Bob next to the large crate. They were unskilled in driving buckboard wagons but figured they would learn as they went. Gravity and ham-handedness conspired to send the fragile cargo tumbling down the mountainside... leaving a trail of splinters, springs, metal tubing, screws, and other parts for over a mile. After spending an hour plucking mystery parts from the steep hillside, the posse descended down to the foothill town of Sugar Skulls, New Mexico Territory. As they walked into town carrying armloads of assorted bent and broken pieces, the clanging alerted the local people, who shuttered their windows and locked their doors."

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#6 Postby didalibo » Thu Dec 13, 2012 7:38 pm

You should post this at RPGGeek.com. Deadlands is severely underrepresented there. This is a quality write up and should be seen by the community.

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#7 Postby Bandito » Tue Jan 08, 2013 10:56 am

MARSHAL: So the posse descended down into the little town with armfuls of broken and twisted metal. They entered the Thirsty Devil Cantina and soon learned that the townsfolk were living in terror and that the very man who had hired them to deliver this package to his brother Felipe was in fact the villain terrorizing the town. Before the villagers had known that Rojas was the villain, they believed he was their protector, but Rojas raised their taxes to an unbearable level and this caused suffering and death as the villagers had not sufficient food to live.... these taxes were collected to purchase a powerful weapon, supposedly so that they townsfolk could defend themselves. They discovered, with the help of a local watchmaker / gunsmith, that their broken item for delivery was a powerful weapon - an organ gun! and that the villain Rojas intended to use against the villagers - and not to protect them! The posse also discovered the identity of "Felipe" - a code word of sorts for the organ gun itself. After some failed attempts, the posse was eventually able to convince the townsfolk to make a stand against Rojas and his men. Preparations commenced for the epic battle that was to take place the next day at noon when Rojas and his men arrived in town to pick up the package that had been delivered by the posse.


The following appears in the journal of the gunslinger, Martin Vore:

The night before we helped the town, there was an eerie feeling amongst all of us. We’d decided we were going to help the town. Looking back, even though it was just a few days ago, I am not sure why we did it or how it was we decided we were going to help this town we’d never even heard of until a few weeks ago, much less having any real connection to. Maybe it is because in some small way, with our arrival, we were going to be bringing these poor people more pain. After all, when we set off, we assumed the Felipe was a man, not a gun. I think it appealed to our sense of morality, of justice, and the nobility and satisfaction of simply doing the right thing. I know it did for me. I’m not sure Dr. Bob is going to make it much longer, so in a weird way, maybe I need to focus on protecting someone else. Frankly, I think this is going to be a good distraction for me since I don’t know how I will hold up mentally if I let down General Torrance in the last task he set before me.

We’d meticulously planned the assault on the town. The townspeople, who were not altogether excited about defending their own town at first, eventually came around and realized that their homes, their families, and their very existence and way of life was worth fighting for. We could not have done it without Miss Bo’hanna, I’ll tell you what. None of us spoke Spanish. Fortunately her charisma made up for my temporary lack of shooting skills when we tried to prove our worth.

General Torrance always taught me that planning was essential to any battle. Tactics and technology are as important, if not more important than pure numbers. We would soon enough put this to the test. I was to man the Felipe gun, along with the town’s watchmaker, hidden in the outhouse of all places. Miss Bo’hanna took up a position in the unfinished building. Our other gunslinger, Captain Wild Bill, took an excellent position in the church. Ranger Trotter and our huckster Daniel took up positions in other buildings. The idea was to create a web and cross-fire in which we could eliminate whatever force that might approach the town. We enlisted the townsfolk to help as well. They had limited amounts of guns, but they had amazing courage under fire. Even the children were unbelievably brave. We were able to fashion an alarm system of sorts by having the children pretend to graze the town’s pigs at key entry points into the town since we had no idea from where the attacking force would come. One child, just as we’d planned, poked the pig he was holding to make it squeal. As soon as we heard that, we knew which direction the bad guys were coming from.

We clearly needed the “pig alarms.” Within moments, a force numbering more than twenty marched straight into town. They were all on horseback. We saw Rojas on a cart along with someone who was clearly a gunslinger type toward the back of the party. We waited with anxious breaths. It appeared that we had the element of surprise. But then the gunslinger started to approach my position. I was at first very concerned since I thought it might have been my brother in Mr. Rojas’ party, but that particular apprehension proved unfounded. What wasn’t unfounded was the fact that once he rode up close to the outhouse, his expression seemed to change when he looked at it. He immediately turned around and began to ride back to Mr. Rojas. If we were given away, it could prove disastrous, but we’d planned so carefully to have the town’s fountain rigged with dynamite so that when the invaders came up to pick up their “crate,” which we hoped would fool them into thinking they had gotten the Felipe gun, we could blast the dynamite and take out most of the opposing force. I couldn’t be sure the opposing gunslinger saw me, but it sure seemed like it. Damn it, Damn it, DAMN IT! I muttered to myself as I had to make a quick decision.

Finally, I decided that the risk was too great and we had to start. The trap was a good idea devised by our huckster, but I was too afraid that we’d been spotted. The clockmaker and I activated the Felipe gun. It is a huge instrumentality and it shoots three bullets at once. I shot three different invaders and each in turn died where they stood. Almost immediately thereafter, my compatriots and the townsfolk opened fire as well. We had achieved total surprise and were quickly whittling down the opposition numbers. I think the general would have been proud. Captain Wild Bill took his shots and killed more invaders. Bo’Hanna and Ranger Trotter followed suit. The townsfolk distinguished themselves admirably and with our surprise we had most of the invaders killed before Mr. Rojas and the rest of his bandit gang knew what hit them. A few stragglers of the opposing force broke for our positions and attacked, but their attacks were pretty much ineffectual, even when they started lobbing lit sticks of dynamite. The other gunslinger and Mr. Rojas were a bit more difficult to put down, but we managed it in the end.

When the smoke cleared and the bodies of our enemies lay dead at our feet, the town celebrated. I’d feared several casualties, especially amongst the townsfolk, but only one man had died. No one saw how he died, but I am sure he distinguished himself fighting the town’s oppressors. It felt good to mean something. To make a stand for good. Rojas evidently meant to take the Felipe gun and use it on the town or take it or something. It made no matter. He wasn’t going to harm these people and would never terrorize them again.

After a few days of rest and comfort, we’ll be heading out again. Maybe someday we’ll meet up with the fine folks of Sugar Skulls yet again. You never know.



http://photos1.meetupstatic.com/photos/ ... 69652.jpeg
Last edited by Bandito on Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:12 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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#8 Postby Bandito » Tue Jan 08, 2013 12:31 pm

FOLLOWS THE ACCOUNT OF ANOTHER PLAYER (Huckster - masquerading as a toy salesman)

Daniel T. Hemlock
November 4, 1878.

James Buckley, esq.
Boinko, Boinko, and Ying
Philadelphia, PA.

Dear Mr. Buckley,

I must request your indulgence for the lateness of this most recent report. Although I have been utterly ineffective at moving merchandise – in particular the toy clockwork bears of which we are both most fond, you will at least be interested in my other adventures.

After receiving a much-too-late message from a SR. M. BLACK from the ignominious community of Sugar Skulls, New Mexico, requesting my presence at a will reading, I received from a VAGRANT a Dixie Lines ticket to Tontin, whose passage I immediately undertook. In Tontin, learned that a variety of others also received such a message – MARTIN BORE, a gunslinger, ARLON TROTTER, a Texas ranger, CAPTAIN WILD BILL KELSO (but captain of what? We shall see), and Bore’s compatriot, a cracked personage known only as DR. BOB. All of us received a similar late summons, information about the “Thirsty Devil” (bar) in Sugar Skulls, and a portion of an Ace of Spades, the card of death.

Unfortunately, in Tontin, we won a little too much at cards, and wore our mystery a little too proudly, and ended up in an altercation with the shifty patrons of Cantina Rojas, especially a gambler named KEEGIN. I held up particularly well in this confrontation and downed three of the soused scum with a single well-placed blow. On the basis of our adventurous misbehavior, the proprietor, SENOR ROJAS offered us a mission to take a crate to Sugar Skulls via Alturas. Perfectly in tune with our original investigatory mission, we accepted his $25 each and rooms for the night, Trotter burned the bodies of our defeated scum in accordance with some strange custom known only to vile Texans, and we interrogated Keegin. Some of my compatriots are indeed hot under the collar, and he ended up with a bullet in his head. All was not a total loss – Dr. Bob acquired boots, we got a canister of mysterious revolver balls, and were all treated to a free breakfast.

However fine the Midwestern hospitality of the fine denizens of Tontin purported to be, the train to Alturas was just the opposite. It is hard to decide which was worse, passengers MRS. CRUMP, SIR ARTHUR CHARLES, or the variety of villains who assaulted the train to stop the delivery of exactly the crate we were hired to protect. What was in it? While some of our group struggled to protect the crate in the cargo car, others struggled to keep diapers on Mrs. Crump’s BRAT. In the end, all the assailants were defeated, largely due to the efforts of Bill, Arlon, and Martin. Dr. Bob fell early in this conflict, and although stable, still elected to sleep through the subsequent adventures. I don’t blame him.

With the crate safe in hand, we arrived in Alturas, and with the help of DIRTY PETE, the train engineer, we soon had housing in the White Tower hotel for the poor doctor, an evening in the Two Bits tavern, and an offer of a reward for Keegin’s men (an offer we were unfortunately forced to decline due to such varmints’ recent incineration).

The journey to Sugar Skulls on a rented wagon was nothing short of disastrous – which might have been predicted by the acquisition, early in the adventure, of actual sugar skulls at a shrine – with our names on them. Furthermore, with Dr. Bob snoozing on the buckboard, I, as clearly the brains of the operation, might have expected that at least one of the tougher types I was with would have riding skill. With all their skills in their guns, and none in the reins, our poor equestrian mounts struggled under dimwitted indecision and calamity, which ultimately resulted in the destruction of our cargo just outside Sugar Skulls.

The fact that Sugar Skulls, perhaps the most dreary town I’ve ever seen, was in better shape than we were upon our arrival, is an embarrassing understatement. With one rusty shovel, four bottles of watered tequila, twelve nervous-looking pigs, and virtually no night life, we had indeed entered a hole. Whomever is likely to be buried here certainly has an inheritance worth questioning, but that disappointment aside, we had less than 24 hours before we were to deliver our broken cargo.

In our investigation of the town we learned that FELIPE was not the name of our intended deliveree, but rather the name of the cargo – an automatic weapon that could be fixed by the town’s watchmaker in time for tomorrow’s “delivery.” Asking after Sr. Black produced no response, but we learned that the mysterious SENIOR NEGRO drifts in and out, and could be the source of the transmission. Arlon noticed strange blood graffiti on the back of the hotel that looked like a gruesome mask, and journeys to a nearby cemetery, although producing no results in determining someone who could have been recently buried, revealed a creepy trail and a sign to “New Hope” being painted by a spectral figure. Most importantly, however, the acquisition of a new companion, lustrous gunslinger BO HANNA, enabled us to overcome our language problems and successfully determine that Senior Rojas, whom we thought a good fellow, was, in fact using us to deliver advance weaponry to a town he was about to assault.

Our ire provoked on dual grounds, my compatriots and I struggled to first convince the townsfolk to band with us and then form a plan to enable them to defend themselves and help us to recover from the insult of being duped. Through a variety of suave theatrics and the use of the rabbit skin pouch Becky gave me at our last meeting, we were able to convince the local peasantry and their 7 chickens we were effective leaders. After a fury of brainstorming (I will bring you my list of 29 suggestions at some future gathering), we used pigs as advance alarms, children as bait, and a fountain as a cherry bomb, and faced down the 20 varmints – led by Senior Rojas, an UNNAMED MAJOR GUNFIGHTER, and a mysterious villain we thought we had previously defeated on the train ride to Alturas, known only as DON SERAPE. Soon we forfeited our plan and prepared to gun it out using Felipe, but were impressed that the townsfolk, obviously enraged by our superior invective, dropped many of assailants before we even fired a shot.

Of course the combat continued to our victory, resulting in the destruction of the aforementioned baddies, the near destruction of the Texas Ranger, the recovery of a horse, and the acquisition of Martin’s mysterious girlfriend MARIA, but other questions remain. What lies at the heart of the inheritance mystery? What is the supernatural influence surrounding Sugar Skulls? Are the mask and the sign to No Hope connected? Will we ever again see a decent supply of tequila? Is Dr. Bob dreaming about Bo Hanna? Does Maria speak?

I am verily on tenterhooks with regard to these events, James, and feel that solving it might both avail us of the good name necessary to open up the towns of Sugar Skulls, Alturas, and Tontin, to the merchandise of Boinko, Boinko, and Ying, but also provide information about the mystery we both share.

One final note. I have heard that that miscreant muckraker Jake Swim has again been prying into my things. I urge you to protect yourself from him at all costs. He is up to no good.

Best regards to the Associates, with my promise that I will be in contact again soon.

Your audacious servant,
Daniel T. Hemlock, II.

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#9 Postby Bandito » Fri Jan 25, 2013 2:01 pm

Yet another battle report from one of my players

From the reports of Arlen Trotter, Texas Ranger:

Returned to Sugar Skulls with Kelso. Villagers still celebrating. Next morning, myself, Kelso, Vore, Hemlock, Dr. Bob and our newest companion, Bo Hanna, are all overcome with fatigue. Food, sleep, drink, none help to ease the exhaustion. Word gets around that the Padre of the village church wants to speak with us.

Knocking on the church door, we meet the Padre, a shifty, nervous fellow. The Padre explains the reason for his trepidation: he is not the first Padre of this church. The previous Padre disappeared about a week ago, and this Padre feels that evil has come to Sugar Skulls. M. Vore describes our ailment to the Padre, and we are told it is the work of a curse, powerful Indian magic. I show the Padre the candy skulls embossed with our names which we found on the road from Alturas. The Padre's eyes grow wide, and he informs us that these tokens are definitely cursed.

To break the curse, the Padre says, we must travel to the nearby River Sticks and give the candy skulls to the water. Once the skulls are dissolved in the river, a prayer must be read aloud. Padre gives us a sealed scroll of vellum, instructing us not to open the scroll until we stand in the river. The skulls and sealed scroll are taken into my possession for safekeeping.

We head out to find the river the next morning. The trail to the river leads past the road to the abandoned settlement of New Hope and through the village cemetery. The sky is overcast, and the graveyard is wreathed in mist. In the distance, a wolf or hound could be heard baying. Through the mist, concentric rings of headstones can be seen, with marigolds and small sugar skulls on several graves. Despite the small size of the nearby village, the Sugar Skulls Cemetery is quite large; the multitude of white family names on headstones lead me to surmise that this cemetery also holds the dead of the once-town of New Hope.

We came to the center of the graveyard, and some of my posse were unprepared for what we found. Atop a raised dais, in a bowl-shaped altar, lay a quartered human body. Butterflies danced overhead. Kelso seemed visibly taken aback by the scene.

Worse still, the baying of the hounds had gotten louder. On the other side of the dais, a great chasm had been torn in the earth. Aberrant wolfish forms paced hungrily back and forth on the other side of the chasm, and out of the pit itself crawled several hungry dead.

During the subsequent fight, Kelso and Vore were both winded by the walking corpses, which proved remarkably resistant to bullets, even those of a more arcane variety. I attempted a daring maneuver and successfully cleared the chasm on horseback before doubling back to dispose of the aberrant bodies. Hemlock and the doctor saw to the wounded, healing M. Vore and bringing Kelso back to consciousness. I inspected the quartered corpse and found only gore and a priest's collar-- the fate of the village's first Padre was not a pleasant one.

Nearby, Hemlock had noticed a gravestone marked "M. Black", the very name of the person we had all been told to meet in Sugar Skulls. M. Vore and I decided to exhume the grave, eager to meet the man we had heard so little about. A shovel was found behind a nearby grave and we set to work. Eventually, we hit an old pine box coffin, nailed shut, at the bottom of the hole. Prying open a board with Vore's Bowie knife, I saw only blackness within. Holding a light to the opening, I espied the coffin's interior-- empty save for one agitated scorpion and a rolled up parchment. Leaving the scorpion unmolested, I retrieved the parchment. Unrolling it, I beheld words written in a strange tongue. Bo Hanna informs me that the words are written in Nahua, an Indian language derived from the old Aztec tongue, and one without an alphabet. My thoughts instantly turned back to the bloody Aztec masque I had found on the back wall of the Sugar Skulls inn. I rolled up the parchment and placed it in my sack. For safekeeping.

We pressed on and at last came to the place where the River Sticks flows. Oddly, the river flows only at this spot, before sinking back under the sands. As we approached, some of the posse heard a faint humming noise, and several of us stumbled upon tunnel trapdoors hidden in the sand.

Seeing no obvious danger, I rode to the banks of the river and dismounted. Tying myself to my horse, I waded into the river. Though seemingly slow-flowing on the surface, the River Sticks possessed a wicked undercurrent, and I was nearly carried off, but managed to fight the current to stand in the water at an ideal or for the Padre's proscribed ritual.

I placed our party's candy skulls in the river, and they quickly dissolved. Still standing in the river, I unrolled the Padre's sealed vellum scroll, only to find a blank page. Remembering the Padre's words, I dipped the scroll in the River Sticks, and writing was revealed. This scroll was also in Nahua- indeed, the very same words that appeared on the M. Black scroll. Not wanting to have come all this way for nothing, I began to intone the ancient words as best I could.

When I was finished, there was a sense of great lightening amongst us. Our exhaustion vanished, and Kelso's wounds healed before our very eyes. Then there was a great clap of thunder, followed by steady rain and actual lightning. In the lighhtning's flash, I glanced again at the scroll and briefly beheld additional writing on the page. The words were in English this time, and seemed to be a translation of the native tongue on the scroll. I dare not repeat the words, not in this dispatch nor even in oral report, for fear of what might happen again.

We were set upon almost immediately after completing the ritual. Trapdoor spiders and burrowing wasps emerged from their tunnels below. So fast and ferocious was their assault that all of us except Bo Hanna and Hemlock were wounded. During the fight, I experienced a malfunction of my Colt, and will have to see about getting it repaired. Once the fighting died down, I looked around at the open plain around us and saw dozens more trapdoors highlighted by the pouring rain, and we decided to leave promptly.

Stopping in the graveyard briefly to heal our wounds, Bo Hanna noticed lights in the direction of New Hope. No doubt about it, something's wrong with that ghost town. More on that later. We hurried back to Sugar Skulls. I had a Padre to see.

I barged into the church, eager to demand an explanation from the twisted priest, but the Padre was nowhere to be found. I searched for tracks in the muddy ground outside, but the rain had long washed away anything useful. Asking around town, I have discovered that the Padre has skipped town. He apparently left soon after speaking with us for the first time, and has taken a young maiden from the village with him- a "volunteer" it seems. They left yesterday evening, bound for Alturas. It is that road which I now chase them down on.

Last edited by Bandito on Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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#10 Postby Bandito » Thu Feb 07, 2013 2:08 am

An account from one of my players!

From the reports of Arlen Trotter, Texas Ranger:

On our way back to Sugar Skulls, Captain Kelso wandered off the trail and fell into quicksand. Bo Hanna remained behind, eager to salvage the good Captain's rifle, as the rest of us pressed on to Sugar Skulls. Along the way, M. Vore and Dr. Bob wandered off from the group. Need to remember to ride in the rear of the group from now on to prevent further delays.

Arriving in Sugar Skulls, we found the town deserted. The church had been defaced with Spanish words written in blood, and the door was locked. Splitting the lock open with a bullet from my Starr, I found the church deserted. The altar had been desecrated with a hastily-scribed blood mask symbol, not unlike the one I had seen earlier on the back wall of the inn when we first arrived at Sugar Skulls. Bo Hanna arrived, having given up on Kelso's loot, and translated the Spanish words; the same prayer I had read in the river. I hushed her before she could finish the dread words aloud, and set to work cleaning up the blood.

A quick search of the village revealed one survivor: a small boy cowering in the pigpen. He told us, in frightened whispers, how the villagers had all suddenly "changed" when the first great peal of thunder rang out. He said that the villagers' eyes glazed over and they began walking solemnly out of town towards the east. He kept repeating that "They took them", but would not say who "They" were.

Bo Hanna and I elected to search for fresh tracks in the mud around the east of town, and we soon found a great many leading away from the town and back towards the old trail to the graveyard and the abandoned town of New Hope. A curious discovery given how we had not seen anyone on the same road on our way back to town. Following the tracks, we came to the crossroads where the old trail divides into the path to New Hope and the long trail to Alturas. Though I combed the crossroads very thoroughly for tracks, I found no tracks on the road to Alturas, only the same tracks leading from the village of Sugar Skulls to the old ghost town. It seemed the "Padre" had vanished.

We followed the trail to New Hope, and beheld an eerie spectacle in the ruins. Odd yellow lights emanated from the tops of three large pillars, and the ground around the old walls was broken here and there by mudholes, large puddles, and in several places, great fissures into the earth, some fifteen feet across. Weirder still, the architecture of the ruins was all mismatched; some walls clearly did not belong here in the old settlement. Bo Hanna witnessed a man climb a great stone staircase leading up to a pit and throw himself into it. I rode further into the ruins to investigate.

Suddenly, as I rounded the corner of the great stone staircase, two shots rang out from across the nearby chasm. The first round hit a cactus to my right, but the second found its mark, grazing my shoulder. Bo Hanna moved to fire on my assailant, and we discovered that it was none other than M. Vore! Hemlock began experiencing a crisis of character as he entangled himself with his own magicks while screaming that he was going to kill us. I rode on, trying to outflank Vore as he and Bo Hanna swapped lead. As I rode around a large mud puddle, I could hear a voice in my mind, as though many people somewhere nearby were begging for freedom.

Rounding the corner, I took aim at my former comrade. My aim was true, and the clearly deranged Vore crumpled to the ground. It is at this point that things got substantially worse. Whatever foul vapors had taken Mr Hemlock from us also gained hold over Bo Hanna and myself. When I regained control, I found myself behind a locked gate in a cave surrounded by villagers. Some were from Sugar Skulls, while others professed to be from old New Hope herself. Hemlock and Bo Hanna found me, and the ghoststeel gate was unlocked with the mysterious key I had found in M. Black's coffin. When I emerged from the cave's hidden entrance, I discovered that my horse had been shot. Pity.

Hemlock attempted to use his healing skills on our wounded, but M. Vore's accuracy with his pistols was too great for mere medicine. We shall have to convalesce at nature's pace as I resume my search for the Padre. Hemlock also seemed intent on seeing to the bastard Vore's wounds, I know not why. I shall expect a good answer from Vore if he returns to consciousness.

Enlisting the villagers' help, I searched the pit atop the great stone staircase. I discovered the pit to be the ruined well of New Hope. At the bottom I found Mexican eagle coins, which I divided amongst ourselves as pay to my deputies for their loyal assistance thus far. Also within the well was a magical colt peacemaker, which I entrusted to Bo Hanna as she is the only one of my followers to have NOT run off or shot at me yet. Also in the well were two corpses, which I removed for identification and burial.

Last edited by Bandito on Thu Feb 07, 2013 2:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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#11 Postby Bandito » Thu Feb 07, 2013 2:10 am


As the Texas Ranger stood in the river, he opened the Velum scroll as instructed by the parish priest at Sugar Skulls. The vellum scroll was empty! When the scroll was immersed in the water of the river, words in a strange language appeared. The Ranger knew not what he read, as the text was a phonetic transliteration of the Nahuatl language of the Uto-Aztecan people.

(what the Texas Ranger recited while standing in the River Sticks – phonetic transliteration of the Nahuatl )

ymanel yca yohuac



tia xihualhuian yaoyoque

inic nehuatl inic chicnauhtopa




in nitlamacazqui

yz ceteotlaloe

yz cecomolihuie

y nauhcampa ticamachalotoc

tla xihualmohuica

tla xihuiqui

nican macoz


As the Texas Ranger finished reading the last word, a lightning flash rended the gloom and revealed a sub-text watermark (lightning mark?) containing the English translation of what the Ranger had just read aloud.

(Follows the words of the sub-text watermark revealed by the lightning flash immediately following the Ranger’s reading of the invocation vellum scroll).

though night had fallen

i have come to call them

they of the mirror-eyes

please come forth warriors

for i am from the nine beyonds

who knows the land of the dead

i am the one called night

i am the mocker

for i am the priest

here is the master of all deserts

here is the master of all pitted places

you who open your mouth to the four directions

please bring yourself forth

please come

here it will be given

he has come to eat

The thunderclap which followed the lightning flash shook the ground with a terrible force. It began to rain heavily and the Ranger was overcome by a sense of dreadful portent, for deep within himself, he recognized with horror what he had done. What had he done? He wondered what monstrosity he had unleashed upon the plains.

After their ordeal at the river, the weary and wounded posse started the trek back to the cemetery. Though it was only 1 in the afternoon, The lonely road snaked through the grassy hills and they could see the headstones appear atop the hill. After attempting to heal the wounded, they started back toward Sugar Skulls. As they passed the road toward the long abandoned township of New Hope, they thought they saw some lights dancing through the fog and light rain off in the distance, atop the hills.

As they returned to Sugar Skulls in the gloom and light rain, the posse stood in the town square next to the fountain and facing the church. They noticed that the front of the church had been defaced with graffiti written in Spanish – apparently scrawled in blood. Bo Hanna, the bounty killer of Mexican descent, was able to translate the Spanish – as she read aloud, translating into broken English the words as she read them, the Ranger was quick to stop her, lest she repeat the very fated words of invocation he had uttered in the river. Inside the church the posse found that the altar had been defaced with an Aztec style graffiti of the head of a jaguar adorned with an ornate mask and feathered headdress scrawled in blood. The ranger scrubbed the church clean of the blood.

Soon the posse noticed that no one in town remained – somehow all had mysteriously vanished – or had they. As Bo Hanna called out in the gloom for any who remained, her persuasiveness was rewarded by the emergence of a small child from the pig pens – he told them what he had seen. About an hour ago, a blinding lightning flash and deafening thunderclap tore through the dark silence of the gloomy afternoon – then everyone in town, as if entranced, stopped what they were doing and started walking down the road toward the cemetery. He did not know why they left and even his five brothers and mother, Maria (the new girlfriend of Martin Vore, Gunslinger) had heeded some unheard call.

The boy also told them that the parish priest had left soon after the posse had started off toward the cemetery. Apparently he took a woman from the village with him also. The posse learned that this priest had recently replaced a previous priest who went missing a couple of nights before – probably the quartered corpse in the center of the cemetary. This replacement priest had instructed the posse how to end the curse of fatigue which had mysteriously afflicted them – they must give the sugar skulls to the currents of the Rio Palos (River Sticks in English). He gave them a velum scroll and cautioned them to open it and read it only when standing in the river.

As the posse tried to figure out what they should do next, they realized that bounty hunter Wild Bill Kelso, gunslinger Martin Vore and mad scientist Dr. Bob were also missing. They had hoped to recruit some help in town, but everyone had left. They were a posse of three.

They first unsuccessfully attempted to locate the organ gun “Felipe” which went missing. They were unable to locate any telltale tracks in the gloom – perhaps the rain had washed them away. As they looked for tracks on the East side of town, the direction the boy told them everyone walked, they found many sets of tracks leading down toward the road toward the cemetery. They were able to determine that no sets of tracks led off toward Alturas, the direction the priest had said he was going with the woman from town.

As they followed the tracks, they came to the crossroads where the overgrown and unused path toward the abandoned township of New Hope. They were able to find that the tracks of the villagers all led in this direction – from the tracks it appeared the villagers had all ambled here as a disorganized mob.

As the posse walked up the hill to New Hope Township, they came upon a strange scene of mismatched cyclopean architecture – there was a strange amalgam of oddly angled ancient stone foundations 10 feet high intersected by rock formations which seemed to have been thrust up from below, and which stood about 20 feet high. A lone palm near a courtyard stood next to a deep pool and several muddy areas. Large crevasses crisscrossed the ground under the structures. Three odd stone columns stood about 80 feet apart, with a fourth column broken in two amid rubble. Each of these three columns was surmounted by a pale yellow glowing sphere whose eerie light pierced the gloom.

Trotter, Texas Ranger, entered the ruins first, mounted on his trusty steed. As the posse was at the threshold of the ruins, they noticed a precarious rough hewn stone staircase atop which stood a man facing away from them. The man turned and looked at them for a second – a listless look across his face. He then jumped off of this height to an unknown doom..

As Trotter rounded a wall, he saw a posse member who had mysteriously disappeared prior – Martin Vore, Gunslinger, stood across a chasm with pistols raised and fired at him twice. A bullet founds its mark and wounded Trotter. The Ranger, shocked, returned fire, striking Vore. The bounty killer, Bo Hanna, followed the Ranger into the ruins and began exchanging fire with Vore. Why was Vore attacking them? Something was amiss. At one point, Trotter, thought he heard a faint voice carried on the breeze saying “…help us – free us.” From the angled shadows of walls and rock, shots rang out in the gloom. Most zinged inches over the posse's heads, but some found their mark in flesh. The posse thought they noticed some shadowy figures lurking around corners - just standing there as in a stupor - perhaps it was just the shadows and light.

Meanwhile, the huckster Daniel Hemlock took the scenic route into the ruins and skirted along the Southern edge of the structures. Suddenly Hemlock endured some type of assault on his psyche – he felt the spiritual tendrils entangle his being and instantly he knew that he was at peace – soothed by the mindless actions which controlled him – he had new masters now, and he served only them. He felt compelled to unburden himself of his magickal potency, and successfully entangled himself with his own ensorceled rope.

ONE WOUND FROM DEATH (aka - almost a tpk!)
Bo Hanna was severely injured by Vore. Just then, Bo Hanna succumbed to the psychic call too! She was compelled to walk to the top of the rough-hewn stone stairs leading to the ledge from which they had seen a man jump to his doom’. She felt no fear and was compelled by the will of another – she only lived to serve the masters of this place. Suddenly stopped ascending the stairs and turned as if heeding some unheard call. She started down the stairs toward the dark place.

As Trotter had engaged Vore, he somehow killed his own loyal mount in a hail of gunfire. He then shot a man standing listlessly near a wall in the back. Better safe than sorry. Trotter was severely injured in the fray. Soon, Trotter too succumbed to the their will. He turned away from the blooded corpse of his horse and started walking down toward a rock face . Then as if by magic, he passed though the barrier. There was some type of hidden entrance that he passed through and disappeared into the darkness of the stone passage.

As Hemlock lay there in a tangled heap, he next attempted, unsuccessfully, to shoot himself – not once but twice. Somehow, in the fray, he was wounded to near death. How could he let down the masters? Surely they would be unpleased with his ineptitude. Suddenly a mindless shambling man rounded the corner and grabbed Hemlock – at first it appeared the man was dragging him toward a pit, but then, suddenly, the man changed direction and started carrying him somewhere else. Suddenly Hemlock was free of the mental impulses which had controlled him. With some effort he managed to break free of the ensnaring magickal rope he had lassoed himself with, and also escape the clutches of the maniac dragging him toward certain doom.

Bo Hanna suddenly came to – as if a spell had been broken – she again commanded her wits and actions. She quickly made her way after Trotter, who she saw disappear into what had looked like solid rock. As she looked cautiously in the area, she found a small ocarina clay flute on the ground with native designs painted on it. She also noticed that there was a passage in the rocks through which Trotter had walked as if entranced.

Bo Hanna’s practiced lips curled around the ocarina and she blew. She played the instrument with some skill. Suddenly the glowing orbs which topped the smooth stone columns 20 feet high shot upward into the air at a very high rate of speed. The lights then shot downward and started spiraling around slightly above ground level. They lingered at the broken column, then shot off into the darkness.

Hemlock and Bo Hanna entered through the hidden stone passage and found a large and drafty cavern hewn from the rock. Cool moisture emanated from deep within. About 100 feet down the passage, they found a huge ornate gate with a complex lock – the structure appeared made of the same strange alloy as the magical pistol they found. On the other side they saw the missing Sugar Skulls residents, Trotter (with a vacant look on his face), and various unknown people who were all trapped there. Beyond the prisoners, the tunnel disappeared into darkness.

Hemlock and Bo Hanna stood there for a lengthy period of time trying to figure out how they could open the door. Shooting the lock did not work and other ideas proved futile. Eventually the Ranger searched his memory and recalled the key he had found in M. Black Esq.’s coffin and squirreled away.
Hemlock and Bo Hanna pondered the mystery of how Trotter had found himself locked behind bars – perhaps he had let himself in and then locked the gate after himself? Doubtlessly, he would have stayed there indefinitely had he not recalled the key he possessed.

The posse let everyone out. The townsfolk from Sugar Skulls were happy to see the posse – yet some among them were still in a state of stupor and listless. There were many others too, who claimed to have been from New Hope Township. No one recalled how they had come to be in this place.

The huckster Hemlock attempted unsuccessfully to heal Vore… he then attempted unsuccessfully to heal Bo Hanna. Vore had been so damaged in the gunfight that his agility was permanently reduced.

The posse gathered the rescued villagers from the stone caver and started off toward Sugar Skulls. Of those who claimed to be from New Hope Townships, some disappeared off into the surrounding plains, but most accompanied the posse and villagers to Sugar Skulls.

Upon their return to Sugar Skulls, the posse was greeted in the street by Martin Vore and his new acquaintance, the pig boy. They waived and smiled as everyone walked into town. The posse was suddenly perplexed – “what is he doing here?” they thought. Martin Vore explained that too much tequila the night before had caused him to oversleep and miss the posse’s departure. Bo Hanna, with a confused look on her face, said “How did you get here? We just fought you at the ruins! And you are unharmed!” As the posse pondered this quandary, they looked around the saw that the Vore from the ruins was nowhere to be seen. The color suddenly drained from Vore’s face as he was overcome by a look of pale dread – “My evil twin… I guess he finally found me…”


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#12 Postby Bandito » Thu Feb 07, 2013 2:01 pm

i have a bunch of pictures we took during these games - i just can't get them the right size. too bad this site doesn't auto scale them - or am i doing it wrong?

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#13 Postby ValhallaGH » Thu Feb 07, 2013 3:32 pm

Nope, no automatic scaling that I've found.
"Got a problem? I've got the solution: Rocket Launcher."
"Not against a Servitor."
"... We're all gonna die."

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#14 Postby Bandito » Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:29 pm

I added a couple of URL links to pics in the posts above. I am trying to add more but it is not letting me for some annoying reason. Sometimes it only lets me add 1 - sometimes more - sometimes none.

I have some nice ones too - dangit! lol

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#15 Postby Bandito » Wed Mar 06, 2013 5:03 pm

BENEATH THE RUINS (New Hope Township, NM Terr.)

The posse returns to Sugar Skulls – some among them are gravely injured and must rest to heal their wounds. After 10 days of convalescing, they start the journey to New Hope Township. As they descend into the valley, the morning haze gathers in the distance atop the hills. As they make the final ascent toward the hilltop ruins of New Hope, they notice that the familiar light topped pillars are not illuminated and that the yellow balls of light which normally surmount the three standing pillars appear absent. They approach the cleft in the stone and descended down the long tunnel toward the gate behind which they had found the Sugar Skulls residents in a type of trance or stupor.

On their return to the ruins of New Hope, the posse finds a new group of prisoners behind the barred barricade. Their key is useless - someone must have changed the lock! They all work together to break down part of the gate. The prisoners remain unmoving and listless - as if in a type of trance.

A cool breeze emanates from down the long stone passage. As they travel with their dim torches, the posse comes upon a complex of worked stone passages. Watch out for that 15' wide pit of black liquid!

This back room smells like urine.... perhaps we will be safe here! Damn these feeble torches! The only sound the posse hears is the constant dripping of water, and sounds of their own making.

The posse travels down a long stone corridor and eventually enters an Aztec ritual in progress in a nearly dark room. There are figures in the dark – they are clothed in ancient style and armed with glistening black stone knives and clubs. Their obsidian sacrificial blades appear to be dripping with venom!

Suddenly a dark sorcerer dressed as a jaguar and wearing a spotted pelt laughs in the gloom of near darkness. He stands over a sacrificial altar menacingly and laughs. "Greetings Priest - we thank you for reading the scroll invoking our god - we could not do this on our own. You are most favored of the sky of night! You are a worthy sacrifice! - Kill them!"

In the half-light the posse sees that the Aztec sorcerer's face and hands are covered with a thick black grease, and he wears an ornate feathered headdress. Oh nooo! gunslinger Vore is dreadfully afraid of cats! (-4 to all actions, haha!). Is that a victim on the altar? Who are these half nude Aztec warrior women with an obsidian blade in one hand and a studded Aztec sword in the other? Oh no, one of them is gunslinger Vore's girlfriend Maria! What is she doing here? She is attacking us!

Dr. Bob energizes a couple of the Aztec warriors with his electric ray rifle! As everyone attempts to kill her, gunslinger Vore alone attempts to subdue his Aztec warrior girlfriend with non-lethal force.

Huckster Hemlock bides his time shuffling his cards - then hurls them at the Aztec warriors as they retreat to seek better cover.

Yawning pits stud the temple chamber floor - threatening all who walk near.

Sven the railroad worker/priest of Thor empties both barrels into the Aztec sorcerer - he is wounded, but fights on... his dark magicks are unable to find their mark. Trotter, Texas Ranger and bounty killer Bohanna finish off the writhing sorcerer. What trickery is this? The Aztec sorcerer is the very same parish priest from Sugar Skulls who abducted Maria and absconded to parts unknown.

The posse finds a small spyglass, a glowing obsidian blade – and burns the rest of the priests robes and regalia.

They suddenly realize the Huckster Hemlock and Bounty Killer Bo Hanna are no where to be seen – they must have wandered off into one of the side tunnels or fallen into one of the crevasses in the darkness. Oh well, time to move on. The posse heals up and reloads their weapons.

The posse debates whether they should return to town or keep on going through an opening in the chamber which seems to descend deeper into the depths. A slight cold breeze emanates from within.

The posse comes to a Y shaped split in the chamber and decides to go to the left. As they walk to incredibly long cavern passage they notice the smell of some explosive and they can discern the faint sound of rushing water in the distance.

As they continue down the cavern, Gunslinger Vore tells them a brief account of why he would like to question his brother – and the railroad priest Sven speaks of his long lost Helga and her ample charms. Along the way they find a small glass bottle with a cork stopper sitting on the cavern floor. It contains a black substance.

The posse continues on in darkness – Damn these feeble torches!

They enter a rubble field in the cavern which slows their movement even more. The sound of rushing water is stronger now – oh, watch out for that crevasse in the floor! Perhaps it is the Rio Palos River which went underground at the spot where the posse had stood at its banks. These crevasses always seem to be 15’ across – dangit!

The posse members make it across – sans a couple of fate chips. Once they reach the other side of the crevasse, they see that the cavern continues for about 30 feet then ends abruptly at a huge chasm. A couple among the posse notice a faint clicking sound – just as a large chitinous insect like creature emerges from the crevasse and attacks the railroad priest Sven as he peers into the darkness, not seeing the danger stalking him. The wall crawling foe disappears into the darkness of the crevasse from where it emerged.

Just then, the sound of repeating gunfire cracks the silence, and muzzle flashes can be seen across the chasm – oh no, someone is using an organ gun on the posse! Could it be…? Not, that very unlikely. It is very dark and the posse, despite their suspicions as to who this shooter might be, cannot see their attacker – who is likely prone, behind heavy cover in darkness.
Gunslinger Vore is the first target – he takes two .45 slugs to the chest – and 2 damage! He managed to soak the damage… but burned all of his fate chips. Sven and Trotter were likewise damaged in the hail of bullets – they were able to soak the damage.

Vore fires off two shots in the darkness – despite the medium range, darkness, cover of the target, the bullet finds its mark.

Oh no, is that another chitinous wall crawling insect creature attacking us? The mad scientist Bob grabs a burning dynamite stick out of Trotter’s hands and hurls it into the pit from which the insect like abominations appear to be emerging – after some seconds delay, a large booming explosion rumbles through the cavern, dislodging stalactites that the posse manages to avoid. Trotter empties two barrels of a shotgun and seems to wipe out the shooter across the chasm.

Gunslinger Vore kills the wall crawler. Hmmmm … could that be the very gun “Felipe” from Sugar Skulls? Best destroy it to keep it out of enemy hands. , Dr. Bob starts up his electro-rifle and blasts the distant gun with an angry stream of electrons – a leather backpack full of dynamite next to the gun ignites and again the cavern is shaken with the intensity of the explosion. Parts of the gun and leather straps from the backpack fall around the posse – barely missing them.

Some among the posse want to turn back, but Dr. Bob is adamant that they must continue – he manages to convince the posse and he spends 6 hours constructing a extending rope ladder with filed steel rungs.

Dr. Bob completes his MacGyvered invention just as the torch burns down to a stump. Some among the posse think the black vial of grease may be the same as that worn by the Aztec fanatics from the ritual chamber – as they fought in darkness, perhaps it imparts the ability to see in the dark? The Texas Ranger wants to test his theory and greases his body with the black substance. After passing a vigor check, nothing much seems to happen – until 10 minutes later when he can see in the dark! The Gunslinger Vore also greases himself in this manner, passes the vigor check and can see! The rail priest and Dr. Bob decide against greasing themselves – Dr. Bob saves one application of grease and uses one to make a makeshift torch to replace the burned out one.

The posse heals up. They hear a distant boom across the chasm. After healing, the posse crosses the chasm on Dr. Bob’s zany ladder – on the other side is no sign of anyone – a blast pit from the dynamite explosion is all that remains. They find a small passage leading away from the gun platform into the rock – it lead nowhere and was apparently blasted during the party’s break for healing.

The posse makes the trek back to the Y split in the cavern passage without incident. They begin to travel down the split of the Y shaped passage that leads off toward the right. After a time they come upon another split in the cavern – one passage continues on forward and disappears around a bend, the other is a steep, obsidian studded side passage requiring an agility check. The posse opts for the descending obsidian passage and all manage to emerge unscathed. At the bottom of the passage they notice yet another small side passage with a track for mining cars and 3 wooden crates. They pry a crate open to find a bunch of water damaged papers including a document with Arabic letters and a drawing of some sort of masked winged beast with a body kind of like a bear.

The posse continues on only to have their progress stymied at yet another gaping chasm – 3 broken stalagmites span the abyss – perhaps they could jump across! “I will go first” says the Gunslinger Vore – ooops, not strong enough to jump the entire distance! He tumbles into the darkness and a couple of seconds later lands with a dull thud, broken atop an outcropping of the stalagmite – he is non-responsive and incapacitated – oh no!


Posts: 62
Joined: Sat Sep 08, 2012 1:01 pm
Location: lost angels

#16 Postby Bandito » Wed Mar 06, 2013 5:05 pm

The account of one of my players:

The following appears in the journal of the gunslinger, Martin Vore:

Oooh, my head. That was how my day started. And it only got worse…
I have never been much into drinking, and last night was the only confirmation I will ever need. All I recall is spending the evening with a few of the villagers and they offered me something called tekila. Since I’d never really heard of it, I wasn’t really enthusiastic about it, but I didn’t want to be rude. Oh my word, that stuff was – uh, I am not sure how to word this, but it was harsh. Harsher than anything I’d ever had. All I’d ever had back home was the occasional beer and I didn’t ever care that much for those. I must have let on that it affected me because the gents I was with began to chuckle. My pride got the better of me. Despite finding tekila to be rather unpleasant, I drank another glass. Then another. After that, I’m not sure what happened. I assume I fell asleep somewhere.
The next day (or I at least assume it was the next day), I woke up with a pounding headache. I managed to get up and made my way back into one of the streets in town. I saw Trotter, Bo’Hanna, and Hemlock making their way back into town. They looked grim. And wounded. Once I saw them getting closer, I was upset for not being there to help them in whatever trouble my new friends had gotten into.
I was surprised when they seemed angry and surprised when they saw me. I could understand if they felt like I had left them in the cold, but why hadn’t they come to find me before they left?

As they got closer, their belligerence and confusion only seemed to increase. The situation was getting even more confused for me. Had they lost Doctor Bob? Had they assumed that I left them to protect my charge? I internally thought at that moment that maybe they assumed I’d ducked away to make sure he was safe. Which I would have to do unfortunately if I had to. But that was neither here nor there.
Finally, Bohanna – or at least I think it was Bohanna since I was still a bit fuzzy – asked me how I could be here.
Where else could I have been? They left me here. It wasn’t like I remember them coming to get me or asking for my help.
Then I heard one of them say something that made it all clear to me. It nearly stopped my heart.
“How can you be here?” one of my companions asked. “We just saw you up at the ruins and you were shooting at us!”
WHAT!!! Was my immediate inner reaction. I did no such thing. How can they accuse me of such a thing. I knew that because I felt so wretched I knew I hadn’t even been up, much less been in any condition to hit the broad side of the barn. They clearly looked as though someone had taken shots at them who definitely was able to hit the broad side of a barn – and even better.
Then it hit me.
Warren. Damn him! He kept popping up when I could not get at him. He was my worst enemy and now he was making me the enemy of my new friends. This was intolerable. But first things first.
“My evil twin,” I explained resigned, scared, and weary, “I guess he finally found me…”
As I said this, I vowed that the next “finding” would be me finding him. And then questioning him. If he really was the one that killed General Torrance, he’d know why he did it. If he knew that, then maybe we’d know why Dr. Bob was so important to the General.
I tried to explain this to them. They were understandably confused and upset. Especially, it seemed to me, Trotter. His dedication to his provincial authority makes him a bit difficult to deal with sometimes. This was one of those times. I can understand being upset at being wounded, but it wasn’t my fault. It seems as though Warren had tricked them into believing that he was me. I tried to explain the situation to them. That only got me so far. Apparently, they believed that it was necessary to try to heal Warren. Maybe that made it worse. I can’t help it now. They started talking nonsense about “marking me” in some fashion to be able to distinguish me from Warren. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen. But I saw their point. We developed a code phrase that I am to say to them if ever Warren tries to impersonate me again. He’s disappeared so I guess it wasn’t a horrible idea. I’m not writing it down here just in case this journal is parted from me and falls into the wrong hands.
Having sorted out the preliminaries, we decide what to do next. Not only had Warren been playing havoc with my life, we learned that all of the villagers had gone missing. I’m still a bit fuzzy on the details since it seemed okay – but that was before the tekila. That bore investigation as well, since I had – well – grown to respect and care for the citizens of Sugar Skulls. We give Trotter and BoHanna time to heal up, which took some number of days. As much as I was itching to chase after Warren, I obviously could not begrudge them that. As soon as they were healed up, we were ready to head back up to the ruins. As we were waiting, for a strange reason a few new arrivals made their way to Sugar Skulls. One was some strange priest who worshipped some god I’d never heard of. The other was another sharpshooter like me.
Once we were ready to go, me, Trotter, Bohanna, Hemlock and the two newcomers made our way back up to the ruins. I was concerned that he might be long gone given that we waited, but that was the best place to start. Plus, it sounds like my friends gave Warren as well as they took from him, so maybe he was being held up too.
We got to the ruins and made our way in. It was tight quarters making our way into the cavern that led into the ruins and the cavern near it. Relatively shortly after we got into the caverns, we found a metal door that house a number of the villagers! I was elated at first, but then my elation turned sour when we encountered difficulties getting the door open. Trotter had a key he thought would work since it apparently worked before, but for some reason it no longer worked. We discussed various other options and then opted for the simplest – raw, brute force. We got the gate open and tried to interact with the villagers, but they had no concept of who we were. It was as if they could not see us or hear us. Very eerie and quite disconcerting. I had no idea what to make of it. Was it some sort of magical spell cast over them? Who knows. Since it seemed as though we could not help them, we moved on.
We got to a point where we were confronted with some very nasty, very dangerous looking liquid. We were contemplating what to do to get across when I acted, perhaps a little rashly, and I simply jumped across the rancid looking liquid. After a few machinations and discussions the rest of the party made it across. We proceeded deeper into the caverns.
Unfortunately, our decision to “travel light” was starting to bite us in the ass. We had no light but for the strange magic at Hemlock’s disposal that created torches to light our way. Even with the torches, they did not put out enough light for my comfort. It left too much darkness and we could be walking into a trap.
Which is exactly what we ended up doing. We started hearing strange noises. Instead of sticking together, we got separated into two groups with Hemlock and Bohanna getting separated from the rest of us. Me, Trotter, Bob, and the newcomers made our way into a hell beyond at least my imaginings. Eventually the caverns opened up into an underground plaza. We’d interrupted some sort of demonic ceremony. A priest was standing over an altar that had the priest that was missing from Sugar Skulls. The priest started muttering a few things, but to my embarrassment, I – at least mentally – missed most of this battle as well. The evil priest was dressed up in some get up that kind of looked like a cat. That seriously messed with my mind. I had a bad experience with a cat once. I’ll leave it at that since I have no interest in reliving that part of my life. The next thing I knew it looked like we pulled through. That was good.
We’re about to go deeper into these caverns. I have to steel myself for what lies ahead.

Posts: 62
Joined: Sat Sep 08, 2012 1:01 pm
Location: lost angels

#17 Postby Bandito » Mon Apr 15, 2013 1:39 pm


There is a pervading cold that hangs in the air as a light mist. Occasional drops of water can be heard – and the distant sound of a rushing river far below. Suddenly the cavern floor falls away to a large chasm which separates the posse from the other side. On the other side the path continues into the distance. Two rock plateaus span the 30 foot chasm – the first is only five feet away and easy to reach by jumping. Martin Vore is the first to try and easily make the jump to the five foot wide plateau. The next plateau also appears about five feet wide – but this one is 10 feet away and will require Martin to test his strength – oh no! He falls!

The posse hears some noise behind them in the area where an upward ascending shaft met the main cavern the party is walking down. It is Bo Hanna, Daniel Hemlock and a new fellow! – it appears they were wandering around in the darkness and fell into a crack in the floor – they slid and landed in a mine ventilation shaft they followed in the darkness holding hands and walked toward where they sensed a slight draft. They shaft they followed finally bisected a mining shaft with a small track – just as they were about to start ascending the shaft toward what looked like dim light, they heard the scream of a man followed by a dull thud that resonated throughout the cavern and shafts. They stumbled in the darkness toward the sound following the tracks - deeper into the ground and eventually they arrived at the bottom of the mine shaft.

Bo Hanna's investigation of the documents revealed 3 items of interest:

a. book in Arabic dialect missing a page – it is a book of daemons and is decayed and mostly turns to dust as it is picked up– they found page and it says “ The winged beast wears a bronze mask to conceal his hideousness, and keep the stone secure under his tongue. He has leathery membranous wings for gliding.”

b. Hand written fragment in Spanish: “…Esteemed Senor Miktlantekuhtli Negro ...(illegible)…there is not time… once the fourth column is fixed aright, the four death lights will emerge and join as one. Once the sacrifices are complete, the death lights will awaken and rise into the sky with alien symmetry – as they gyrate in spirals and helixes, their motion will go from slow at first to increasingly gaining speed – eventually the lights move so fast they are seen only as blurs and then solid lines. They begin to weave in and out between strands of light suspended in the air as if drawn by some giant unseen hand. As the pale yellow light columns of woven light ascend high into the night sky, they will curve inward and arc toward each other – the intricate lace-like woven pattern. These four columns of woven strands of light will begin to fluoresce and increase in intensity – as they formulate into unity, you will discern detail in the light – the at first will appear as the bright outline of massive legs – they join high above the center of the four columns and begin to form a complex and intricate pattern as of a woven net made of light. Then it will be manifest – an avatar of the Net Jaguar – massive, it will begin to move – it will look down, open its massive maw and snarl – then it will destroy all that it sees. Around its head will appear a nimbus of woven light as a vast feathered headdress of the Aztec underworld lords....(illegible)... Your work will be then be done. Return…(illegible)... Arizona.”

c. Ripped and stained incomplete handwritten letter of recent origin scrawled in blood and crumpled up: “...(illegible)…I am hoping you will find this brother, forgive me – as my actions are not my own. I write to you during one of my rare moments of free will – they are fleeting and far between now as for us all – we are merely slaves. Once the transformation is complete… (illegible)...he…(illegible)... and the Net is awakened, there will be no hope for this place. This place – these people – it is tragic what happened here, the hundred who have toiled in the darkness or died on the blade – if you can, destroy it all! As for me, I am already dead – do not look for me, as you will not find who you seek. Know that I meant you no harm – nor your compatriots. Yes I did kill that bastard the General – and he got exactly what he deserved – for know that it was he who killed me. Bye brother, and be well. P.s. should you succeed, do try to convince the villagers that they are safe…(illegible) and…(illegible)...which he keeps under his tongue.”

The following appears in the journal of the gunslinger, Martin Vore:

It is all black. I know nothing, feel nothing, and worst of all, remember nothing.
That is until a sense a vague awareness of being pulled upward. In my sleepy and dazed state, I assumed at first I was dead and on my way to whatever afterlife that might exist. But I was wrong. My companions had taken me from the depths of the cavern, which I had apparently fallen into, pulled me up and patched me up a bit. Not as good as new, but it would certainly keep me on my feet and in fighting form. I could feel a bit less agile, but as long as my trigger fingers work, I’ll be dangerous.
We met back up with Bohanna, who had gotten separated from us, but she brought a new member to help us along. A Native by the name of Plays with Fire. Boy if that weren’t apt for this posse. Something must have happened to our Norwegian newcomer because he was nowhere to be found either. I don’t know how they came across some of these materials, but Bohanna gave me a note that could only have been written by Warren. It started going on and on about how he wasn’t in control of himself and that I shouldn’t seek him out and how the “good people” were being manipulated somehow. Nonsense. What wasn’t a load of bull was his written confession that he’d killed General Torrance. He implored me not to seek him out because I “wouldn’t find who I seek.” More nonsense. How he can claim to be my brother and NOT expect me to track him down and get answers for the death of such a great man is beyond me. But I will have my answers.
So we pressed on. We came upon some sort of lake. About twenty feet off shore we saw a boat. Off to our right, there was a rope bridge that looked as if it had definitely seen better days. Nevertheless, Ranger Trotter decided to forge ahead and left the rest of us behind, using the rope bridge to cross it. I wasn’t sure Hemlock had the agility needed to cross the bridge. I knew Dr. Bob didn’t. Hell, for that matter, I wasn’t sure I had the agility to walk across that bridge. My head was still pounding and I still could not remember anything from the hours before I was pulled up. We had no idea what lay ahead or what might await us on the shores on the opposite side of the lake, but this is the only direction that Warren could have gone, so I knew we had to forge across somehow.
Ranger Trotter made it across. I just felt like it was too big of a risk. I did think, however, that we could somehow use the boat. We jury rigged a hook and rope to pull it towards us. Then I was on ferry duty. Taking myself, Dr. Bob and Hemlock first, we all got in the boat and then I used the rope on the bridge to pull us across the lake. I got them across just fine. When we got to the other side, we saw a huge pyramid like structure, albeit it heavily obscured by a fog. Now that I have been in a posse with Bohanna, I now know the pyramid to be in the Aztec style, not the Egyptian kind I learned about in school. I needed to get Bohanna and Plays with Fire to the other side as well, so I started to make my way back. Unfortunately, I screwed it up a bit, and splashed into the water. I was more embarrassed than anything at first, until I could tell that I wasn’t the only thing in the water. I barely got back into the boat in time before it was surrounded by very gnashy and very hungry looking fish. It seemed like thousands of them. I make it back and pick up Bohanna and Plays with Fire. We make it across just fine, although the fish trail us relentlessly.
Once we were all across we noticed two young women restrained to some posts. Being the gentleman I am, I was not going to let these young women suffer. Trotter had the same sort of notion it appeared to me. We freed them and then immediately regretted it. How I could have failed to notice that it was the same type of Aztec warrior priestesses that had previously given us enormous trouble, I can’t say, other than maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. I don’t know what happened to Trotter, but the priestess I unwittingly released attacked me. She wasn’t successful. I returned fire, hitting her once, but somehow it must have grazed off some armor or something because she didn’t seem affected. She took another swing at me from one of those vicious blades she carried and this time stuck me. The pain was excruciating and I fell to my knees, shaken and dazed.
I could vaguely hear the clamor of combat, but I couldn’t see what was going on. All I could think of was that I needed to get on my feet and protect my charge and help my companions. If I was going to face Warren, I would almost certainly need their help. I managed to shake off the fog and then noticed we were also beset by those fearful looking zombies and the wolves again. The priestesses appeared to be fleeing so I decided not to pay any more attention to them. The zombies and the wolves presented a grave and imminent threat. I took careful aim, assuming that if I hit one of those bastards in the head, it would drop him. I got the head shot and it would have dropped anything else, but the damn zombie just shrugged it off. I next moved closer to Dr. Bob, who was standing near Plays with Fire. I shot at and killed one of the wolves that was threatening them. Simultaneously I shot at another zombie. I could see the bullet punch through its dead flesh and watched a small splatter of its thick dead blood, but again the zombie seemed to feel no real effect from my bullet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trotter wrangling with one of the zombies and he felled it was a blow from his machete. I’m going to need to follow his example and when I get the opportunity, I am going to learn how to fight with the Bowie Knife I have clasped to my belt.
Suddenly, I hear a chanting and the fog that was obscuring the pyramid parts. The zombie that remains slackens and looks even more dead, but I wasn’t complaining since he wasn’t attacking anymore. We look up and see a man at the apex of the pyramid. The man is well kempt and well dressed. He has an air of authority and power about him.
He introduces himself as the Mr. Black that we have also been looking for and got us all started on this insane journey. What respect and intrigue I had for the man quickly evaporated though. He pulls out some damn paper and says that all we have to do is journey hundreds of more miles to get a plot of property. He “thanked” us for our help, but decided that he would “take it from here” and that we were no longer needed and that we should simply go away to Colorado or wherever it was that was going to be for the next wild goose chase. I don’t know about the rest of the posse, but his cavalier attitude and callousness for what we have been through enrages me. I’ve only felt this angry once before and I am NOT going to let it slide or get away from me this time.
As this Mr. Black is waving the paper around and starts to get ready to leave I pull the hammers back on my revolvers. I’ve got six bullets left in my guns, and as far as I am concerned every single one of them has his name written on them…

The following appears in the journal of the gunslinger, Martin Vore:

BASTARD!! I yelled out as I pulled back the hammers of my revolvers. Despite the patronizing speech that Mr. Black was directing to us to go run like lackeys again to obtain some land (supposedly) in Colorado, I notice three shafts of light piercing into the gloom of this gargantuan underground cavern. They’re set at roughly the four corners of the Aztec pyramid we were standing near.
But I didn’t really think about the importance of meaning of these surroundings other than assessing them as variables in what I knew was going to boil down to a shootout. Not even an explosion from back behind the pyramid was distracting me. I was focused on the “illustrious” Mr. Black who was waving a piece of paper in front of our posse. He was spouting some non-sense about some land or something. It was just words on a paper to me. Our group had suffered real hardship, to say nothing of the poor folks of Sugar Skulls. We’d all been played by this man and his words and his letters and notes and such. That might be all well and good for some men, but for me, I let my bullets do my talking.
I know I’m thick skulled and that I should think about things more. General Torrance was always telling me that. But in that moment of anger and frustration and, frankly, fear, I resorted to my old habits. Maybe someday I’ll learn ways to solve my problems other than shooting my way out of them, but not this day.
Black was way up at the top of this underground pyramid. Right toward the end of his speech, I maneuvered my way into position to get a better shot at him. Bullets exploded from the ends of my pistols. In retrospect I know I shouldn’t gloat, but I was pretty proud of the fact that my very first shot found its mark. The lighting and change in elevation, to say nothing of the range he was at made the shots difficult, but I was VERY determined. I’m sure he felt safe up there in his little Aztec perch, but as soon as one of my bullets went through his little piece of paper, it punched through his chest an instant later. I could almost see the surprise on his face when he tumbled back down the back of the pyramid out of our view.
Still, I realize gloating isn’t all that productive, especially in a battle, as I was disappointed when my second shot failed to find its mark through the skull of one of Black’s pet wolves.
Before too long, a couple of these pet wolves are bounding down the side of the pyramid and headed straight for our posse. Hemlock, who had decided to take a position up in the front took a shot at one of the wolves and killed it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ranger Trotter grappling with another one of those damn zombie looking vermin. I wasn’t too worried about him. With good reason. An instant later, I saw the zombie’s severed head tumbling to the ground. I really need to spend some time learning how to fight with a big blade. Comes in real handy when a baddie gets right up next to me and wants to tussle.
I could hear other activity around me, but I couldn’t see it all. The next chance I got, I took a couple of shots at the other wolf and kill it with my left handed gun. There was another wolf up on the pyramid apex and I wanted a better shot at it so I holstered my six-shooters in favor of my rifle.
That ended up being a bit of a mistake. Bohanna was right next to me and she and I were beset by some gargantuan looking cross between a bug and a crab. It was skittering over at us and bites at her. Bohanna swatted at it wildly, but unfortunately, it didn’t help much. She unfortunately got the business end of its claws and pincers.
Fortunately, my years of practice with my pistols gives me good reflexes. I knew the rifle wasn’t going to help me so I re-drew the pistols. The huge bugger was tough – despite nailing it directly in the head, I could tell my shots to aid my companion only stunned it. But it was enough to let us get away.
Off in the distance, behind the pyramid, where I couldn’t see anything, I heard some vague chanting. Hoping to see if anyone else in the posse heard the same thing, I noticed that basically everyone – including Dr. Bob, had already made their way either to the back of the pyramid or were far pretty far away from me and headed toward the back of the pyramid. I’d expended all of my bullets so (for the first time in recent memory) I ended up reloading my revolvers, since I figured whatever was making that chanting couldn’t be doing it to help us out. I needed to get back there and contribute to whatever plan my posse had formulated on the fly. As I was rushing forward, an excruciating bite in my back brought me up short and stunned me. Another one of those damned wolves. I shoot it and kill it. Won’t be bothering anyone else again. More of those zombies are streaming toward the front of the pyramid. It finally dawns on me that maybe I can’t stay here trying to pick off enemies and the real action (where all the rest of my posse had gotten to) was behind the pyramid.
A moment later, I heard all kinds of commotion behind the pyramid, which I guess in retrospect made me realize my suspicions were right. I needed to get over there. I hear screams and shouts and then some shots. I also heard the tell-tale zapping sound of Dr. Bob’s weird gun. Then a loud bang rocks the whole area again. I raced as fast as I could to the back of the pyramid. As much as I know I wanted to help my posse, a deep part of me kind of wishes I hadn’t. I now saw what all the commotion was about. I’d heard horror stories and campfire tales about mummies and monsters. Hell, even in the short time since leaving General Torrance’s side I’d seen probably more than my share of weird things, unnatural creatures and things that can only be described as nightmarish monsters, but this thing took the cake. The mummy was the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen. It was rotting and decaying, yet at the same time had some unbelievable, incredible strength and vitality about it. Looking at it though froze me. I could feel a muscle in my face twitch. To my embarrassment, I was literally scared for my life and it paralyzed me for a too long. The rest of my posse was trying to grapple with it. Hemlock. Trotter. Bohanna. Even Dr. Bob, whose courage and resilience has been demonstrated time and again and been far beyond anything I might have expected of a scientist who had (at least to my knowledge) never seen a fight. They were all trying to destroy this monster.
It was time for me to do my part. I remembered a vague reference in the notes we had been provided about a crown and a jewel that had to be taken before a great monster (or something) could be truly harmed. I guess I should have paid more attention.
I took careful aim at the mummy, who had a crown perched on its head and shot again. My aim was true again and the crown tumbled from the mummy’s head, but nothing further happened. And I didn’t see any jewel. I took another shot, this time at the mummy’s head, but my nerves had gotten the best of me and I missed.
With great bravery, I saw Trotter get up close and personal to the mummy and he took aim with his shotgun. He shot the mummy in the mouth and THEN we saw a jewel tumble out. Obviously this rattled the mummy who then tried to make an escape in a boat tied up in another underground river. Hemlock tried to join in and prevent his escape, but something seemed to be holding him back. Dr. Bob, to my astonishment, rushed up to the mummy and started taking shots at it and swinging at it. At some point, he and I are going to have to define what it means to have a bodyguard and what the one being guarded should and shouldn’t do. Then again, maybe I just need to get used to the fact that he doesn’t truly need me hovering over him all the time. Who knows.
At any rate, I take another shot at the mummy’s head. I hit him, but the damnable monster keeps moving. Plus, whatever powers the mummy had did not seem to be affected by the loss of the jewel. It starts more chanting and then to my horror, Trotter takes a shot at Dr. Bob and then without having any free will, Trotter jumps into the river and tries to drown himself.
The rest of the battle was like a blur of motion. The mummy swings at Dr. Bob with a vicious looking stone sword and just barely avoids killing him. I hit the mummy with two more of my own shots, but the monster shakes them off as if a .45 caliber bullet was like an annoying mosquito. I hear Bohanna’s gun go off. The mummy was getting away and I took two more shots. I was starting to get frantic since both shots missed. Dr. Bob, apparently seeing something in the mummy’s chest that I could not from my vantage point, tried to reach in and grab at something in the mummy’s chest. Trotter, who seemed to have shaken off whatever bedevilment the mummy had imposed on him, took another shot. Filled the mummy with buckshot and clearly hurt it. It was still going though. I was afraid we were only going to lose the mummy and Dr. Bob. I moved closer to the river and took another shot. I had aimed at the chest, taking Dr. Bob’s lead. Fortunately, the combined damage from our attacks and my shot to its chest finally sank the monster. We all looked at each other, relieved. We knew that more needed to be done at this site to prevent it from harming the villagers in the future, since we had another note that suggested that the end of the world or some other such fate would befall us unless we destroyed the place, but we knew that the most dangerous obstacles, at least for the time being had been disposed of.
We gathered ourselves up back at the mouth of the river near the back of the pyramid. Hemlock looked utterly drained and distressed. I heard him talking softly to himself about how he’d lost some of his magic or something. Trotter, Bohanna, and Dr. Bob were bleeding from various wounds, as was I.
Then Bohanna looked at me briefly and chuckled mildly.
“What are you laughing at?” I asked her.
“It suits you senior. You are now older and wiser than your real years would disclose. Now you have the badge to prove it.”
“Huh?” was all I managed to say in response.
“You have white hair at your temples now,” she elaborated.
Trotter, never one to be as diplomatic, looked me up and down as well.
“Damn, son! You’re even uglier than you were yesterday. And that is REALLY sayin’ somethin’.” he declared.

In the last session the posse continued exploring the underground plaza surrounded by the subterranean lake filled with vicious blind fish. They confronted and shot dead their benefactor who had called them to Sugar Skulls to claim an alleged inheritance. They fought a steady stream of undead lumbering out of the swirling mists and some vicious rabid looking cemetery wolves. Once they reached the back side of the pyramid they were confronted by the dried and dessicated corpse of a mummy in Aztec ceremonial garb. The mummy beat them down with a mighty obsidian studded club and arcane magicks of mind control. Posse members tried to shoot each other and themselves under the influence of the mummy, but they managed to fell the foul foe once they put the clues together and realized they needed to target the mummy's mouth where it held the jade gem which made it invulnerable to damage.

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#18 Postby Bandito » Wed Apr 17, 2013 3:11 pm

Sugar Skulls to Coffin Rock
(spoiler! - Don't read this if you don't want to know about Coffin Rock) I made some modifications to it.

EPILOGUE: Bye bye, Sugar Skulls

The posse decided they needed to implode the undergound lake and floating plaza, pyramid - and the light column temple directly above them. The cavern ceiling stood about 100" above and the pyramid ascended to a height of 50". Upon revisiting Vore's idea to put the 49 sticks of dynamite atop the pyramid, they lit the cigar delay fuse and descended down the pyramid's steep staircase to a waiting canoe tied at an underground tributary to the Rio Palos (River Sticks).

The posse then doubled back to free the captured villagers and returned their belongings which were located in a pile in the interior depths of the cavern in the chamber of the Temple Jaguar Priest and his Aztec warrior women minions. Among them they found a traveling gun-for hire who can't seem to remember his name or origin.

The posse then attempted to allay the fears of the villagers by explaining their triumphant victory over the forces of darkness. The poor English skills of the residents of Sugar Skulls necessitated translation by the bilingual Bo Hanna, who (snake-eyes) managed to horrify the villagers who all ran away, shuttered their homes, and bolted their doors.

When they confided in their friend the watchmaker from Sugar Skulls that they intended to head to Coffin Rock Colorado Territory, he offered them express passage of a secret nature - they accepted and simultaneously swallowed small red tablets.


They awoke in darkness with a severe headache - They could see streaks of light above. As they lay there, they each had vague and shadowy memories of a long journey, a cramped, dark space, and a very bumpy ride. They were each in a sort of padded box. They eventually broke free of their confines and sat up.

They each were sitting in a coffin in the middle of a prairie field in early evening. They must have been there a day or two. Puddles spoke of heavy rain that must have washed away any footprints or wagon tracks, and a persistent wind blew sand from North to South. The clouds broke through just long enough for heat of the Sun emerge for a time. Scraggly wildflowers and prairie grass dotted the otherwise barren landscape and no birds, insects or animals could be seen or heard. Shadows were growing long and the posse surveyed their surroundings. Occasional granite rocks and boulders studded the horizon. In the distance the prairie gave way to foothills and further away loomed tall and craggy mountain outcroppings - one huge rock shaped almost like a coffin. In the distance they noticed the silhouette of a town.

They gathered their belongings (the Texas Ranger was missing his horse and a couple of guns) and prepared to set off toward the town across the prairie. They were sore and fatigued from their confined journey, and Gunslinger Vore dinged up his head pretty good on the coffin top and was even more fatigued. Dr. Bob remained indisposed, and the posse decided it was safe to leave him there on the prairie and retrieve him later on. There was no trail here – or perhaps it had been washed out.

As they walked toward town, they eventually found a road. As they walked toward town they came upon the remains of a burnt out wagon, a burned and illegible wanted poster, a broken gold pocket watch with the inscription “Hambly, always do right by the good people of Coffin Rock,” a scraggly and feeble small vegetable garden with one cat turd, a crossroads with a small stone bench and lilly flowers in a vase, and a fellow digging a grave. As they approached, they could see the man, dressed in a worn grimy black suit, to be gruff, ugly and hairy. He said his name was “Gibbler Mung” and held a large pickaxe in one hand. When the posse asked what he was digging, he said it was a grave. For who? The posse asked. Gibbler replied he was just getting it ready.

As the posse walked into town about half an hour before sunset. The streets were deserted and wind howled through the gnarled trees at the outskirts of town. Tumbleweeds rolled past and the dust from their steps hung in the wind. They passed a boarded up building and as they approached another building with light and occasional laughter coming from it, they heard a faint sound outside as of somebody calling to them.

As they walked around behind the building they saw several individuals tied down to the ground and trees with net and ropes. As they approached and inquired about them, a tied down man asked to be released in a gruff voice. The posse decided to leave them there for the time and came back around the front of the building. They saw a large, shining star and several wanted posters fluttering in the wind. Bounty Killer Bo Hanna inspected the wanted posters and saw that some had been defaced and scratched out. She also noticed a wanted poster with a large drawing of Dr. Bob, and one for the Pearl Gang and “Mayhem” Hank’s Gang ($250 per outlaw, $400 for Hank – doubled in Kansas).

As Gunslinger Vore approached the entrance to the building, he found himself staring down the barrel of 6 shotguns. Six tough looking men wearing badges and cowboy hats eyed him up and down and asked him what he wanted. “Who are you all?” “You folks will be movin’ on then?” “What is your purpose in town?” The deputies told the posse that the sheriff was out walking the town, that no shooting was tolerated in their town, and that there was a curfew after sunset which was strictly enforced. When Bo Hanna walked in, they stared her up and down, then spit on the ground. As they talked to the posse, one of the deputies glared at them and thumbed through wanted circulars. The posse inquired why the prisoners were staked out back, and the deputies snickered that the prisoners had been asking too many questions and laughed. The posse asked where they might stay, and the deputies mentioned the hotel or an abandoned boarding house, if the posse couldn’t pay the $1 per night fee at the hotel.

As the posse made their way down main street, they passed a surgeons office, a boarded up bank and a couple of shuttered homes. In the distance they heard piano music punctuated by occasional loud talking or laughter. They walked toward the sound and came upon the Six Feet Under Saloon. They entered, eager to clear the trail dust from their gullets.

Inside the Six Feet Under Saloon, they get acquainted with the locals. Daniel Hemlock lost a hand of poker and tried to glean some rumors from the miners. Texas Ranger Trotter sat down to imbibe some absinthe with Mayor Hambly, as did Sasquatch, as the posse members have taken to calling their new companion until he remembers his true name. Trotter and Sasquatch were impressed with the potency of the spirit – as Sasquatch slumped off of his seat to the floor. Meanwhile, Bo Hanna spoke with the cleaning lady, while Martin Vore bought drinks for the deputy who came in and sat down on a barrel in the corner with his shotgun.

As nightfall arrived, the bar hurriedly closed, and the patrons shuffled off into the darkness. The posse made their way across the street to the derelict boardinghouse. As they stood on the porch outside preparing to enter, they thought they heard the faint whistling as of a child beneath them in the darkness. Probably just the wind. After entering the dusty building, they set their cots down and Vore slept on the coffin lining kept by the passed out Sasquatch. Late into the first watch, they heard talking in the streets of two men hurrying past: “I think it’s over by the church.” Then there was a prolonged silence, but at around 5 in the morning, just before dawn, Texas Ranger Trotter heard the footfalls of a huge lumbering creature walking within feet of them down main street. He craned his neck for a look but managed to see only darkness – it was gone.


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5/16/13 Update

#19 Postby Bandito » Thu May 16, 2013 4:37 pm


The posse awoke in the blown-out derelict boarding house before puttin' their boots on. Outside the harsh late morning Sun baked the ground dry. As they left, bounty killer Bohanna found an engraved silver plated LeMat pistol with the initials "S.D." on the backstrap under the front porch.

As they walked down Main Street, they peered into a dusty office marked "Assayer" but didn't linger very long. They passed a derelict hardware store with empty shelves. It must have been looted because there was nothing but junk in there. They drifted into the Six Feet Under Saloon to harass the drunken Mayor Hanby but managed to get little out of him save a few burps and a fart. They briefly interrupted the surgeon, but left after he inquired about Martin Vore's skin. They then broke into a boarded up general store looking for canned goods. There is no food in this damned town! They found the cupboards bare, save some ripped sacks of worm-eaten grain - oh what is that in the corner? - an inverted metal cross covered by spore laden mold! The posse manages to avoid any infection as they brush the mold aside to reveal an upside down metal cross. The church bell rings in the distance. It seemed to ring when the posse touched the upside down metal cross.

When the reach the end of Main Street, Ranger Trotter decides to investigate the staked-down prisoners behind the sherrif's office/jail - they are gone! He finds tracks and sets off with bounty killer Bohanna. Soon the tracks split - and so do the trackers. Bohanna tracks for a couple of hours then the sign goes cold. She manages to find some blood droplets and decides to high-tail it for home! Trotter follows the miner sign for several hours then comes upon a crusty prospector who tells him everyone left the town "after the mines run'd dry." He also mentions the recent murders that have occurred in the hills. Trotter finds a stream that, according to the miner, "has some Trout fish in there." Trotter heads back to town but will be there long after the curfew - sure hope he has a lantern! Who knows what comes out after dark in the hills.

Before being joined by the returning Bohanna (Trotter is still two hours into the hills), gunslinger Vore and hired gun "sasquatch" head off to investigate the church – they are joined by Hemlock and Bohanna.

The posse passed the library without inspection on their way to the church. They turned left - South down 3rd Avenue. That must be a schoolhouse on the left up there. Wow - did it just get cold all of a sudden? Eeeek! a ghostly young girl just materialized in the middle of the posse. She is an angry and vengeful spirit, and she shows the posse her most horrifying aspect. The posse survived her attempt to scare them to death with her horrideous visage, but Hemlock developed a debilitating twitch whenever he is around dolls – the rest of the posse freak out and become unable to act.

Huckster Hemlock breaks off from the group and enters the abandoned schoolhouse through a large hole in the wall. Inside he finds broken and dusty school supplies. As he rifles through the cabinets, he finds a small bag of human looking bones.

Meanwhile, outside the school house, after horrifying the posse with her ghostly visage, the girl disappears. Suddenly she assails them with a swarm of rocks, bones and sticks that rises up from the dirt around them. The swirling vortex batters Sasquatch to near unconsciousness. Hemlock joins them and tosses the bones he found into the vortex of flying objects assailing the posse.

Bounty killer Bohanna runs away to escape the ghost's wrath. On the corner she finds a bawdy house, the Jewel Theater. Inside she buys a drink for the girls and asks about the nature of the school and it's ghostly denizen. Outside her friends are still engulfed in a swarm of tiny objects attacking them - the mighty Sasquatch almost succumbs to his injuries, but, at the last minute, manages to use every last ounce of his will to run out of the swarm which has attacked him for several rounds. Sasquatch high tails it for the bawdy house and tries to jump through the window - alas he botches the job and impales himself headfirst into the outside wooden wall of the place, and proceeds to bleed out all over that wall - through the jugular. He is dying.

Then the swarm of objects simply stops – and bits of bone, rock, sand and wood fall harmlessly to the ground. Hemlock retrieves the bones he found and replaces them in a bag. His companions rush to help Sasquatch. Hemlock manages to stabilize him and stop the bleeding - but he can do nothing to help him heal. He will have to heal naturally over the course of a week or more.

The posse had really made a poor impression to the madam and ladies of the Jewel Theater. First of all, “Sasquatch” tried to dive through the window from outside as he ran to escape the enraged child ghost outside which had assailed him with a swarm of flying rocks, sticks, bones and sand. In his hurry to escape danger, Sasquatch missed the window badly and impaled himself squarely into the wall of the Jewel Theater about a foot next to the window.

Inside, Bohana tried to speak with the madam, but then the scared and agitated gunslinger Vore entered the premises and demanded to know some information from the woman – then he pistol whipped her in the face. Immediately Vore, who has a strong code of honor, felt terrible for his misdeed and tried to apologize to her. She was angered and had a blooded lip. She kicked everyone out and banished Vore from the Jewel Theater. Many scraggly miners and their companions came out to look down into the parlor from the rooms above. They threatened violence against the posse should they not leave.

Bohanna, always the diplomat, caught the madam’s attention with a flim-flam gemstone from huckster Hemlock’s bag of tricks. She greedily accepted the gem and seemed to forget her blooded lip for the moment.

After their adventure with the angry ghost child, the posse was revenously hungry. Bohannas bacon slab had been considerably whittled down and the posse set out to find some food. They recalled a small garden outside of town in the foothills toward Coffin Rock. The posse propped Sasquatch up in the derelict boarding house and set out to denude a small and scraggly garden they found in the foothills, and return before the sun set in one hour. As they left, the posse remarked that Sasquatch was looking pretty bad. Drool occasionally dribbled out the corner of this mouth as he lay there. One can only hope that he will not succumb to his injuries, but they are grave and his eyes have but the faintest spark of life.

MAY 14 GAME (check last message for APRIL 30 GAME I just added):

Just as they are about to leave town, Hemlock thinks he hears the sound of a cello being played carried on the evening breeze. The posse decides to check it out later. The trip toward the direction of Coffin Rock is toward where the posse originally found themselves in a field in wooden coffins. As they travel, they think they catch a fleeting glimpse of a horse and carriage crossing them in the far distance. Otherwise, the trip is largely uneventful. They do not proceed all the way down the path toward where the wanted Dr. Bob presumably slumbers in his coffin. By the way where is Dr. Bob? Who knows if coyotes have not consumed him in his helpless state. A small boy appears there in the gloaming evening and asks for his gun back - and he also says "I need meat." They did not get a good look at him.
Likely the boy was talking about the nickel LeMatt pistol bounty killer Bohanna found under the stoop of the derelict boarding house where they are bedded down. The revolver is engraved with the initials "S.D." on the backstrap. Noting his apparent young age, the posse declines to return his pistol, but they offer his a strip of bacon which seems to disappear from Bohannas hand.

The posse returned to the derelict boarding house, and the comfort of their flea-infested cots, just after darkness. Sasquatch still lay there in a corner, unmoving, and with a droplet of dribble hanging from the corner of one lip. On the way back, in the approaching darkness, Bohanna thought she heard the voice of what sounded like a child on the wind – the voice said “Give me back my gun….”

That night they decided to get a better look at the goings on about town. Gunslinger Vore decided to defy the curfew and stood out in the middle of the intersection of Main and 2nd streets with a homemade torch, while Hemlock hid in the shadows and looked on. After ½ an hour, Vore’s torch had smoldered to weak embers and was dying out. Just as he was about to return to the boarding house, they heard voices and saw the light of torches and lanterns in the distance. Five deputies rounded the corner and saw Vore. They asked his business over shotguns leveled at Vore’s head. For a couple of tense seconds, the red gleam in Vore’s eye belied the violent approach he contemplated, but he lowered his pistols. “What is this monster which comes out at night?” “What is going on here?” “Why is there no food?” The deputies firmly told him to keep his voice down and accompany them behind a small building. Vore and the deputies walked around the corner where they could talk – Hemlock kept an eye on them from his hiding place.

The deputies told Vore to keep it down and stop scaring the townsfolk with questions about monsters. Vore asked when he could see the Marshall – they said he was of making the rounds, but they would ask him to drop by the boarding house in the morning to talk with them.

That night they took watches and waited patiently in the dark to catch a glimpse of the lumbering beast which had ambled down Main street in the early morning hours. They saw or heard nothing all night. On her watch, Bohanna thought she heard a child’s voice in the darkness behind her asking her to return his gun.

In the early morning, Marshal Bryce practically kicks the door off the hinges as he wakes the posse. He is a gruff ass of a man, who makes it clear that it is his town and he will not tolerate any malfeasance from the posse. He points out most of the visible buildings and identifies them as his. The posse volunteers that they have almost seen a giant lumbering beast at night and that they will help vanquish the unseen foe which stalks the town some nights. An evil grin crept over Bryce’s unshaven face and he asks the posse what they know about the beast. They know nothing. Bryce seems interested in the posse doing his dirty work, and even offers them some vague reward if they end the threat - but insists that they appear to obey the curfew by not defying it openly in front of others, including the deputies, and that they not tell the deputies about the nature of their 34eunder his breath as he leaves.

The posse decides to prepare for the night’s work. They investigate other areas of the town they have not seen. They see that the Assay office is locked with a sign on the door that says the proprietor is at the saloon. They hear some hammering of metal an dcome upon a blacksmith making horseshoes. The blacksmith seems like a nice fellow and tells them some of the history of the town, and how most people started to leave when the mine went dry. After talking with him for a while, they inspect the corral where they find 2 partial horse corpses in a state of decay. They cut off a leg quarter and agree to come retrieve it at evening time.

They set out their bedrolls and Bohanna finds some type of small dog turd in hers - perhaps it is from the small dog of the pale boy which appears at times to Bohanna and asks for the engraved nickel LeMatt pistol with "S.D" carved in the backstrap. Everyone stays up all night hoping to get a look at the beast which stalks the night. Right before dawn, the boy again appears behind bounty killer Bohanna and asks for his gun. He looks to be about 10 years old and wears a confederate uniform. The posse gives it to him and he thanks them and leaves. Vore notices a gaping wound in the back of the boys neck when he turns to leave.

Just then a beast tears asunder the horse quarter the posse left in the middle of the road as bait. The posse cranes their necks to get a better look - oh no, it is an horrideous demon 10 feet tall with huge talons and fangs. It does not notice the posse - but they take one look at it and are deeply affected: Martin Vore developed an incessant tick to his eyes, further lowering his charisma... Bohanna cowered in fear and instantly developed a phobia of sunrise, while Hemlock just gulped and moved away in horror.

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#20 Postby Bandito » Wed May 29, 2013 5:14 pm


Bohanna and Hemlock awoke in the derelict boarding house to find gunslinger Vore missing. Perhaps he had awakened early and set off – or perhaps more sinister forces were at work. Sasquatch lay there, unmoving. He was cold to the touch. He must have expired during the night. The posse left the corpse and stepped out into the morning sun.

Meanwhile, in a field outside of town, Dr. Bob awoke. He had slept for days. He managed to extricate himself from the wooden coffin he had apparently been shipped in. He sat up and surveyed the landscape. A large rock formation, Coffin Rock, loomed in the distance, and a ways off in the other direction he faintly saw the silhouette of a town. Dr. Bob managed to find some tracks to follow and made his way into town. As he approached, he heard voices in a building at the corner of town. He walked to this building and saw a marshal’s star in the window and some circulars flapping in the morning breeze. He neared the entrance to the building, but just then noticed a wanted poster with his name and a drawing of his face! Dr. Bob quickly made his way down the street away from the marshal’s office. He heard the ring of a blacksmith’s hammer and found a boarded up building with a worn sign that read “Thirsty Devil.”

After exploring the town for a bit, Dr. Bob happened upon his fellow posse members. Just then, Texas Ranger Trotter walked into view – he had spent the night awake wandering the town looking for clues. He mentioned his finds to the posse and described seeing telegraph posts outside of town.

The posse walked to the boarded-up building with a sign that read “Thirsty Devil” and made their way inside. There in the shadows stood the boy Bohanna had seen and the posse had returned the nickel plated gun engraved "S.D." to. He was whistling a tune and said hello. The posse spoke with him at length. He said his name was Scabian. He mentioned that he suffered from amnesia, wanted to kill the marshal, and had a pet Chihuahua "Dinky Feet." Scabian had a gaping wound in the back of his neck which did not seem to bother him much. When Dr. Bob attempted to heal Scabian, he found his patient to have no discernible pulse. Scabian was helpful... and hungry for meat. Ranger Trotter fed him some jerky. Scabian told them that he stays out of sight as not to frighten townsfolk, and that he knew of two ghosts in town – one being the angry schoolgirl.

The posse deliberated at length, then they decided to make their way to the cemetery to bury the bones Hemlock found in the schoolhouse.

The posse then headed back to investigate a boarded up building they had seen with a sign that said Coffin Rock Tribune. Trotter stood guard outside, while Hemlock, Bohanna and Dr. Bob entered the edifice. The newspaper office was dusty and deserted. Hemlock noticed copious dry rot of the floorboards and tread lightly, but Dr. Bob and Bohanna fell headlong through the floor onto a giant pile of shredded newspapers. Their fall was cushioned and they took no damage. As they stood up and dusted themselves off, they inspected the paper. It was dirty and smelled of urine - oh no, a rat nest! Hus then, thousands of the vermin scampered out of the building in swarms and disappear into town.

The posse investigated the abandoned newspaper office and discovered the true story of Coffin Rock, and the tragic tale of John Daly. The posse took a bunch of articles and pictures and went back to speak with Scabian. The pictures and articles jogged his memory – he recalled that it was in fact he who sent his family lawyer to retrieve the posse, that he had a sister, that his father was John Daly, and that he wanted to kill the marshal for some reason he could not recall.

Dr. Bob made his way toward the schoolhouse to investigate whether the threat mentioned by the posse had ceased – he noted no activity as he passed the schoolhouse. So far so good – perhaps the problem had been dealt with and the angry schoolgirl put to rest.

The posse then made their way to the Six Feet Under Saloon where they spoke with Mayor Hanby and the barmaid. Hanby told them of an odd dream he had where a wicked spirit named Tachini or something like that was being tortured by Cheval in the mine. Bohanna approached the barmaid about ‘borrowing’ her pet cat “Kisspurrs” to take care of some vermin. The barmaid agreed, but asked that the posse retrieve some of her belongings from the Jewel Theater, where she had been employed as a prosti… er, an ‘entertainer.’ Bohanna agreed and put Kisspurrs in a sack.

The posse then left the Six Feet Under. Just as they rounded a corner, they come upon two rat swarms! At the same time they saw some miners amble down Main Street toward them - one looked to be the same miner Texas Ranger Trotter encountered in the hills - but something seemed different about him... he appears to be a walking corpse! Oh no! The zombie invasion begins!

Upon seeing the undead shuffling toward them, bounty killer Bohanna became so afraid that she had a major heart attack. She, however, managed to miss her appointment with the reaper – at least for now.

Trotter cleaved the zombies into stew meat with his trusty machete, as Dr. Bob sizzled them into zombie bacon with his electric ray gun. Meantime, Hemlock shuffled his cards and attempted all manner of arcane trickery against the loathsome foes. The posse made short work of the enemy.

As they completed their task they regrouped to start back toward the boarding house – wait! Where was the huckster Daniel Hemlock? Their mysterious companion, who had appeared like an ace out of a gambler’s sleeve, had simply vanished without a trace. All that remained of their erstwhile companion was a leather bound diary laying on the ground. Bounty killer Bohanna quickly picked up Hemlock’s Diary and vowed that she would continue his work of documenting the adventures of the posse. As the posse wondered what could have become of their companion, Kisspurrs the cat escaped out Bohanna's sack and disappeared after a rat.

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