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The Start!
Welcome to the start of Deadlands: The Flood! Everyone's characters are currently on the Denver-Pacific rail car heading over the Sierra Nevadas towards California. Why you're there is up to each of you, though I think everyone has backgrounds that will make a reason easy to come by. I am going to be running this fairly much straight out of the The Flood book, and as I said in the proposal, I want at least one substantial post (an action, character thoughts, and some descriptive flavor) each day. I'll be updated at least once a day, more often if I get more posts and have time around other work. Sorry for the late start, but now we're off!


The Hellbore


December 16th, 1879

A few minutes ago you noticed an odd rattling. The staff of the Denver-Pacific must have noticed it as well, for the conductor in your car flipped a hidden switch and lowered armored shutters over your windows. He then flipped over a seat covering a secret compartment and pulled out a Gatling rifle. With a smile and a wink, he now takes up a position at the front of the car near a gunport you hadn’t noticed earlier.

You peek out the narrow slits in the armored windows. Mounted figures stand along a rise to your right.

Indians!

As you ready yourself for trouble you hear a deafening screech, like nothing you’ve ever heard before. There’s no doubt it’s the locomotive’s wheels grinding on the tracks—the brakes thrown so hard you smash into the seat in front of you.

There’s pain, a dizzy sensation, and then the whole world tumbles around you, slamming your body up and down like beans in a maracca.

Everything goes dark for a while.

Then you hear screaming. Not the screaming of your fellow passengers though—more like the howls of the damned. Ghost rock. You’d know that sound anywhere.

As you try to clear your vision you feel the heat of the burning ore nearby. You force your eyes open and find yourself lying in the shattered debris of the rail car. In fact, you can see the entire train sprawled along the tracks like some infernal iron snake.

Surrounding you are piles of burning ghost rock and the mangled corpses of your fellow passengers. Surely this is Hell.

A man runs by, screaming and blazing with flame. He stops in front of you and three arrows slam into him from the train’s right. The Indians are picking off the survivors!

Fate Chips
Malachite *rolls* 4d35: 12+19+3+6: 40

White: 4
Red: 0
Blue: 0

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William rolled from his back to his front, glad he was wearing his trail clothes and not his nicer suit. Still he grimaced at the singes he saw in the sleeves of his coat as he pushed himself to his knees. His saddlebags were nearby, but before he made for them he offered up a quick prayer to the Lord. "Bless me Father. I know not your divine plan, but if it pleases you to see me through this I am certain that I can help to deliver your divine light and retribution to these dark lands. Amen." He nodded to himself, if it was his place to die today he would, but if the Lord had greater plans for him than to die to a heathen's arrow, he was certain he would be protected.

He lunged toward his saddlebags and hauled them over his shoulder, casting a look back down the length of the train he saw that not all the cars had derailed, and he had hope that his horse might yet live; though at times he wondered if the beast were yet another test for his faith. Getting to his feet William ran in a low crouch toward the rear of the train, stopping in the shadow of a ruined sleeper car to buckle his gunbelt on and crack open the breech of his shotgun. He dropped a pair of shells into the waiting bores and snapped the weapon closed; faith in the Lord went a long way in his book, but sometimes even the faithful man needed to take actions into his own hands.

Armed, and protected by his faith, William Rose sprinted for the stable car and hoped that his horse was alive.

Mechanics - Prayin ta Gawd!
[jameson] 9:43 am: Praying for Armor (Novice)

Spirit d10+2 (conviction) -2 (novice rank)

jameson *rolls* 1d10: 10: 10

[jameson] 9:44 am: WOOT!

[jameson] 9:44 am: that's a raise! +4 toughness

Fate
jameson *rolls* 3d35: 22+29+12: 63

[jameson] 9:29 am: damn you! you stole my 12~

jameson *rolls* 1d35: 1: 1

Fate Chips:

1 white (1)

2 red (22, 29)

0 blue (n/a)

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Fire! For one terrible moment, it was the carnival all over again. Kait sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and her body trembling. Flames danced around her, a pitiless reminder of that day, only instead of the dreadful silence of death, there was the screams of the dying. The wails of the burning rock assaulted her ears.

In front of her, a burning man was shot down with arrows, and Kait’s memory came back. The train, the Injuns, the clue that Silas Webster was headed to the west. All of it rose in her mind like a haunted spirit, leaving her momentarily reeling. Gunshots somewhere nearby were like a splash of cold water; the siren call of the tool she lived by were better than coffee for snapping her into full awareness.

Kaitlin shoved someone’s carpet bag off her legs, then rolled over and pushed herself onto her hands and knees. In the flickering light of the interior carriage, the young gunslinger could see her saddlebags—Mom’s saddlebags—hanging over a seat. Kait rose to her knees to grab them, thankful that they hadn’t been burned. Her gun was still on her hip—and she had the bruise to prove it had been there through the wreck—but her hat was nowhere to be seen. Kait looked a couple of more minutes before giving up and snatching up another brimmed hat lying ownerless in the car. A hat was a hat, and they could keep hers.

Now she was ready to fight or run, whichever came first. She crept over to a window and peered out, Colt in hand. She was trying to see what the red-skinned devils were doing now, and what she could do to put a stop to them.

Fate Chips
[Malachite] 10:25 am: I rolled 4 Whites.

Carver-working *rolls* 2d35: 4+11: 15

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 0

How egalitarian of me. :P

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As Samuel woke up, a hint of smoke made him cough, and he rose up from the wreckage shivering as the fading echoes of animal-headed things hunting him reverberated in his mind. So much like the homestead now. It always was like the homestead - the monstrous spirits would never let him sleep in peace again until he was in the grave.

The whipping sound of the arrow banished thoughts of the ethereal, the gambling festivities that had been his destination. Never had his hometown been attacked by Injun raiders, but everyone had heard stories, known someone who had.

In the end, the West wasn't big enough for the white men and the red men. Especially not right now, and Samuel intended to live on. Keeping low, but brushing off his vest, Samuel checked to make sure his speed-loaded cylinder was prepared and the Colt hogleg ready to go.

But just to be safe - Samuel closed his eyes, and when he opened them back up... the manitou stared at him. "Ready to play?" It suggested in a twisted tinny voice. The cards hovered over a manifesting table, and Samuel impatiently nodded.

As soon as his hand was shuffled and floated out to him, he slammed the set down. "Full house. Any better?" Naturally, the manitou looked surprised, and Samuel knew he had what he needed. "Good."

The void faded back into the train car's infernal internals, and with the buzzing magical energy, Samuel weaved a hex that would keep him untouched. A card briefly appeared, glittering in his left hand, but Samuel instinctively jerked it toward the ground, in case other passengers were alive.

More assured of security now, Samuel clambered out of a gaping hole in the car, gun and backpack held firmly.

OOC
Spellcasting Roll

Casting Deflection

[Jeremy] 11:09 am: Spellcasting d8

Jeremy *rolls* 1d8: 5: 5

[Jeremy] 11:09 am: Wild Die d6

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

[Jeremy] 11:10 am: Acing on the Wild Die

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

Total of 10 - Succeeding with a Raise:

Attackers must subtract -4 from any attack rolls directed against Samuel. This counts as Armor against area of effect attacks. Duration: 3 rounds, extendable by spending a power point each round thereafter.

Fate Rolls

2 Fate Chip Rolls, since Samuel subtracts one for Bad Dreams.

Jeremy *rolls* 2d35: 3+35: 38

[Jeremy] 11:22 am: rerolling the 2

[Jeremy] 11:22 am: *3

Jeremy *rolls* 1d35: 21: 21

[Jeremy] 11:23 am: ok, that's taken too

Jeremy *rolls* 1d35: 32: 32

Fate Chips: 2 Blue

Power Points: 8/10

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Talise Nigig said something quite unladylike. The fact that she said it in some language other than English, and that most everyone around her was dead, kept her (relatively) good name intact. Stupid Apache. Couldn't they have picked some other train to shoot their sticks and stones at? Some idiot cowpoke 'hero' with an itchy finger's gonna riddle me with lead 'cause they can't tell us redskins apart, and I'm a payin' customer!

The raven-haired woman groaned and rolled away from a pile of hell-scremin' ghost rock. She managed to get her self on unsteady feet and was trying to help the elderly white man that had pinched her ass and asked her how much she was for 'company' on the ride not an hour ago to his feet. His head was bleeding, but he'd make it - until an arrow caught him in the shoulder, then another in the throat as one of the braves rode by. The young warrior pulled his horse up short, looking her over - dark cinnamon-red skin, long strait black hair clipped together to keep it out of her face with a turquoise-studded leather claps, but white-man's clothes of blue-dyed linen for her blouse and denim pants. It was all smudged or singed at this point, stained beyond repair, but it marked her as - something. Not a follower of the Old Ways, for certain.

She let the dead man fall from her arms, using the brave's momentary hesitation to dive for the cover of an upended car. The Apache snarled something and let loose with an arrow, but his aim went wide. He'd have to dismount to get to her, so for at least a moment or two, she was safe.

Great. 'Safe', trapped in a flaming rail-car, surrounded by angry Apache, and just as likely to get a bullet in the back by one of the passengers as an arrow in the face by the braves outside. Talise, the job in California was so not worth this.

She heard someone else rummaging in the overturned cart and stifled a startled scream. She picked out a figure moving at the other end, a stray bit of smoked sunlight glinting off their gun as they peered outside. She picked her way over as quietly as possible, nearly tripping over here bags on the way, and scuffed her feet once she was only a few feet away. She held up her hands, speaking in fine English despite her native looks. "Hey," she whispered, "I ain't with them. Just a passenger, like you. A doc. You hurt? I ain't got much that can get us outta here, but if you do, I can keep ya stitched up and give us some small chance a' makin' it." She glanced out the window, where the braves were circling and muttered, "Small chance. Stupid 'Pache's, but they got numbers and horses and we got ghost rock burnin' through the cars and not a lawman in a hundred miles."

Fate Chips
Talise' Fate Chips

Malachite *rolls* 3d35: 18+1+31: 50

Malachite *rolls* 1d35: 19: 19

Malachite *rolls* 1d35: 2: 2

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 1

Marshall's Fate Chips

White: 4

Red: 0

Blue: 0

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As one of the Apaches came around on his horse, the brave raised his bow to pincushion the white boy foolishly standing in the open. Samuel extended an arm and fired his Colt Peacemaker in response.

It looked to be on target, but Indians had their tricks, so who would know?

OOC
Shooting Roll

Targeting the Apache Brave that Samuel can see:

[Jeremy] 2:36 pm: Shooting d6

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

[Jeremy] 2:37 pm: Wild Dice d6

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 2: 2

That should probably hit, so rolling damage:

[Jeremy] 2:39 pm: Damage 2d6+1

Jeremy *rolls* 2d6: 3+1+1: 5

Fate Chips: 2 Blue (32, 35)

Condition: Unharmed

Power Points: 8/10

Deflection Counter: 2/3 rounds left

Reloading Counter: 1/6 fired

Bullets left: 49

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William gritted his teeth against the fiery pain that lanced through his leg with each stride. His old injury was flaring up and slowing him down, his damaged knee and ankle threatening with every step to send him tumbling to the ground amid hunks of flaming ghost rock. He cast furtive glances toward the Indians as he ran. He'd pushed outside and now stumbled along using the roof of one car, then the side of another, to help him along, his trusty side-by-side coach gun ready in his hand as he made his way back toward the stable car.

Mechanics

[jameson] 3:25 pm: running roll

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

Move 8" = 16 yards

Armor Duration: 2 round remaining (+4 toughness)

Fate
jameson *rolls* 3d35: 22+29+12: 63

[jameson] 9:29 am: damn you! you stole my 12~

jameson *rolls* 1d35: 1: 1

Fate Chips:

1 white (1)

2 red (22, 29)

0 blue (n/a)

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Kait scowled at the woman approaching her and almost shot her, just to be safe. But Kait wasn’t a rip who shot women, no matter what the posters said. “Better get down,” Kait warned her. “I ain’t hurt, and all I people I’ve seen or either fine n’ dandy like the Injuns, or they’re beyond yer help.”

Her peace spoken, Kaitlin turned to aim out the window, waiting for her shot.

Actions

Speaking--free

Moving--less than a yard

Action--Aiming

Fate Chips
[Malachite] 10:25 am: I rolled 4 Whites.

Carver-working *rolls* 2d35: 4+11: 15

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 0

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Kaitlin took her time to aim, keeping bead on the older Injun with with scars, beads and feathers braided through his hair. He motioned the other brave near him to move down the car the two women were in, headed towards the gaping hole that used to be the door to the next car. A quiet twang in the car was followed by a quick curse from the dark-haired woman as an arrow scraped along her shoulder, ripping the linen and scratching an angry red line across her flesh. Her eyes went wide in fear and pain, but she managed to free her Colt from the tangle of its harness and fire a shot back. The soul-sickening sound of exploding flesh and bone answered a moment later as lead ripped through the brave's head, plastering the inside of the upended car with blood and bits of brain.

"Okay," she said, her voice tight with determination, "maybe a little better of a chance, now."

The flash of the muzzle had caught the older Apache's attention; his face pulled taunt into an angry snarl and he aimed at the window nearest where the two women were hiding. Glass and steal blasted inward, but the shot went wide of them.

The brave facing Samuel let loose, sure of his aim, and watched in amazement as the arrow bent itself to the side to keep from hitting the white man. He glared at the heathen, sure he was using some white-man trickery, and managed to pull himself to the side just quick enough to avoid Samuel's bullet. He circled the fire-haired devil, wondering if his tomahawk would cut through whatever evil magics were keeping the pale-skinned man safe from his arrows.

William Rose was not quite so lucky. Whatever the Lord had in store for him today, it seemed it included an Apache arrow in the shoulder. He stumbled as the pain traced like lightning through him, but the Lord was with and he kept going through the pain. The arrow fell out after only a moment, having just barely broken the skin against his shoulder-blade. The horse cart wasn't much farther, but the brave was running after him, setting up another arrow - this one aimed for his heart.

Mechanics
Kaitlin:

Move: N/A.

Action: Aim at Black Stick, +2 to Shooting next round.

Brave #1:

Move and Action: Getting into the car Kaitlin and Talise are in.

Brave #2:

Move: Move further into the train car

Action: Shoot Talise

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

4 vs TN of 4

Damage:

Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 4+1: 5

5 vs Toughness of 4

Talise is Shaken

Brave #3:

Move: N/A

Action: Shoot Samuel

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

5 - 4 (Deflection) = 1 vs a TN of 4

Miss.

Brave #4:

Move: Standard move to be within range of William.

Action: Shooting William.

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

5 vs TN of 4

Damage:

Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 5+2: 7

7 vs Toughness of 9

William is unaffected.

Samuel:

Damage 5 vs Toughness 6, Brave #3 is unaffected.

Black Stick:

Move: N/A

Attack: Shooting through the window at Kaitlin.

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1

7 - 4 for prone and inside the car = 3, so miss.

William:

Runnin'!

Talise:

Move: Dropping to the floor.

Action: She's going to shoot the guy that shot at her!

Drawing weapon and firing, -2 multi-action penalty.

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 4: 4

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 2: 2

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

10 - 2 = 8 vs TN of 4

Hah! She actually hit, with a raise! Thank god for Wild Dice!

Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 2+4: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4 (forgot the Wild Dice to start, and got a raise on it)

10 vs Toughness of 6

Brave #2 down, (he's an Extra and so has only one Wound).

Talise's Fate Chips:

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 1

Marshall's pull for Wild Card NPC:

Malachite *rolls* 2d35: 31+7: 38

Malachite *rolls* 1d35: 12: 12

Malachite *rolls* 1d35: 17: 17

Marshall's Fate Chips:

White: 5

Red: 0

Blue: 1

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Samuel glared back, adjusting aim and firing another shot. The magical protection was worth the effort taken to learn these secrets. How else could he have struck back against the monsters on the prairie, without using their weapons against them?

Or against more mundane foes as these red-skins. Samuel knew the manitous were a risky business, but the payoff was worth the gamble as long as he didn't use them as a crutch. And in times like these, his well-being was a worthy payoff.

OOC
Shooting Roll

Targeting the Apache Brave

[Jeremy] 2:50 pm: Shooting d6

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

[Jeremy] 2:51 pm: Wild Die d6

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

[Jeremy] 2:52 pm: Damage roll

Jeremy *rolls* 2d6: 1+1+1: 3

Fate Chips: 2 Blue (32, 35)

Condition: Unharmed

Power Points: 8/10

Deflection Counter: 1/3 rounds left

Reloading Counter: 2/6 fired

Bullets left: 48

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William stumbled, falling against the side of the nearby car even as he turned and brought up his shotgun. The wound was superficial, just a graze, and the shotgun's stock thumped into his shoulder with reassuring solidity as the monster hunter took a bead on the injun' and squeezed the trigger. The explosion shoved William back into the damaged train but his shot only peppered the Indian, grazing the other man in the same way that William had been. Not turning his eyes from the man even as he readied another shot, William backed away, down the length of the train, using the car as a guide and a support.

Mechanics
[jameson] 3:03 pm: ok so ... I'm gonna blast this heathen with my shotgun

[jameson] 3:03 pm: I have a d8 Shootin' and shotguns ar +2 to hit when single fired

jameson *rolls* 1d8: 3+2: 5

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 1+2: 3

[jameson] 3:04 pm: ok, so that hits without a raise yes?

[Jeremy] 3:04 pm: I believe so

[jameson] 3:04 pm: stupid wild die *kicks it*

[jameson] 3:10 pm: ok, Shotgun is 3d6 damage at close range

jameson *rolls* 3d6: 3+1+1: 5

[Malachite] 3:10 pm: But he's still an idiot for shooting at full cover.

[jameson] 3:10 pm: ...

[Jeremy] 3:11 pm: Feel my pain now, Jameson

jameson switches from bird shot to 00 buck

[jameson] 3:11 pm: still ... maybe it'll do something

Ammo: 1 of 2 (-1 shell)

Move 5" = 10 yards

Armor Duration: 1 round remaining (+4 toughness)

Fate

Fate Chips:

1 white (1)

2 red (22, 29)

0 blue (n/a)

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Kaitlin forced herself not to duck as the red-man with the big feather and lots of scars shot the side of the car. She had a good bead on the man’s chest and she didn’t want to lose it. Her breath sighed out through her parted lips as she squeezed the trigger.

The slug from her Colt slapped into the Injun’s chest and Kaitlin waited to see how much it hurt him.

Actions

Moving—not

Action—Shooting Black Stick

[Carver Soze] 11:35 pm: Ok. Guns roll (+2 for aiming): 5

Carver Soze *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

[envoy] 11:35 pm: wb from the blink

[Carver Soze] 11:35 pm: Wild Die Roll: 3

Carver Soze *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

[Carver Soze] 11:36 pm: Can I get an hallejah?

[Dozer] 11:37 pm: meh.

Carver Soze *rolls* 2d6: 6+2+1: 9

[Carver Soze] 11:39 pm: Another witty please?

[envoy] 11:39 pm: hooray.

Fate Chips
[Malachite] 10:25 am: I rolled 4 Whites.

Carver-working *rolls* 2d35: 4+11: 15

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 0

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William stumbled, falling against the side of the nearby car even as he turned and brought up his shotgun. The wound was superficial, just a graze, and the shotgun's stock thumped into his shoulder with reassuring solidity as the monster hunter took a bead on the injun' and squeezed the trigger. The explosion shoved William back into the damaged train but his shot only peppered the Indian, grazing the other man in the same way that William had been. Not turning his eyes from the man even as he readied another shot, William backed away, down the length of the train, using the car as a guide and a support.

William and his attacker kept at their deadly dance, the buckskin-clad brave following the bearded white man as he retreated down the side of the car. He took aim with his bow and shot again, the flint arrowhead aiming for the wide expanse of William's belly, but William managed to turn aside at just the last moment and the arrow instead thunked into the ground a foot or two behind him, again barely grazing his clothes. The Injun' grunted and said something the monster hunter was sure was neither proper speech for any sort of Godly man, nor at all polite.

The redman that had crawled into the car after the survivors nearly choked on the smell of blood and gunsmoke, but it was the dark complexion and comely native features of the woman that had just shot his tribesman that nearly made him hesitate. Then the anger set in. She was a traitor to her tribe, even that tribe wasn't Apache, and deserved a long, painful traitor's death. He set himself behind a ruined bench, fixing his aim on the white woman first. She would get the quick death and then he could drag the other out of the car and leave her tied to the hot metal to die from ghost rock fever or the carrion birds. His arrow buried itself in scorched upholstery near the white woman's head, but he didn't let his frustration show; another arrow was knocked on the bow before and ready for a second try.

Kaitlin forced herself not to duck as the red-man with the big feather and lots of scars shot the side of the car. She had a good bead on the man’s chest and she didn’t want to lose it. Her breath sighed out through her parted lips as she squeezed the trigger. The slug from her Colt slapped into the Injun’s chest and Kaitlin waited to see how much it hurt him.

The large Injun jerked on his horse as the bullet slammed into the outside of his shoulder. He didn't scream at the pain or even yell angrily at her, he merely shrugged the shoulder, as if to show he could still use it, and said some in his strange language, low and dangerous. She knew that look: it was the patient death that could stalk you across the world if it had to. He dismounted and made his way to the train, the great club held in both hands was nearly half again as tall as Kaitlin and was wider than her head at the end; he brought it up, then down hard on the metal of the car above her.

The first sound was awful, but then there was screaming ghost rock around, so everything was kinda' relative. The second sound was damn near worse than the ghost rock as the metal gave way under the brute force of the Apache's war club; it screeched and screamed until it bent inward, letting in shafts of sunlight around the dark silhouette of the large, angry native.

Talise's eyes widened and her clothes were drenched in fear-sweat, but it wasn't the time for thinking. Thinking right now got you dead, and as shit-your-breeches scary as that was, the Indian was now standin' directly in front of her - and her still-hot pistol. She brought up her arm and fired, silently thanking the woman next to her for making her shot and proving this giant did actually bleed. The shot hit, causing another bloom of red, this time on his side.

The brave facing Samuel grimaced and said a prayer to the ancestors and Great Spirits to shatter the white devil magic so he could shatter the fire-haired man's head. He moved in quickly, drawing his tomahawk and looking to split Samuel from crown to crotch if he could. His arm twisted away, though he knew his aim had been true. Devil magic! He screamed his frustration, gripping the small ax until his knuckles were bared white. He would kill this diseased servant of the manitou, it was his duty, his right!

Samuel glared back, adjusting aim and firing another shot. The magical protection was worth the effort taken to learn these secrets. How else could he have struck back against the monsters on the prairie, without using their weapons against them?

Or against more mundane foes as these red-skins. Samuel knew the manitous were a risky business, but the payoff was worth the gamble as long as he didn't use them as a crutch. And in times like these, his well-being was a worthy payoff.

Mechanics
Brave # 4:

Move - Keeping pace with William.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Damage - Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 5+1: 6 vs TN 8

No damage.

Brave #3:

Move - Closing in with Samuel.

Fighting - Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 6-6: 0 (-4 from deflection, -2 for drawing his tomahawk)

Miss

Brave #1:

Move - Taking cover.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 2-2: 0 (-2 for partial cover)

Miss

Black Stick:

Shaken Spirit Roll - Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 5: 5

Wild Die - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

Spending a white Fate Chip to give him full actions this round.

Move - Dismount and move to train car.

Improved Frenzy -

Fighting 1 - Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 5: 5

Fighting 2 - Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 7: 7

Wild Die - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1

Damage 1: Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 9: 9 + Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3 = 12 vs TN 14

Damage 2: Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 10: 10 + Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 5: 5 + Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4 = 19 vs TN 14

Per object rules, the wall of the car is broken.

Talise:

Move - None.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 1: 1

Wild Die - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 3: 3

Spending a white Fate Chip to reroll.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 3: 3

Wild Die - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Damage - Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 6+2: 8 vs TN 6

Black Stick is Shaken.

Talise's Fate Chips:

White: 1

Red: 0

Blue: 1

Marshall's Fate Chips:

White: 4

Red: 0

Blue: 1

Round 3 Brave rolls:

Brave #3:

Move - None

Fighting - Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 7: 7: 3 (-4 from deflection)

Miss

Brave # 4:

Move - Keeping pace with William.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

[Jeremy] 4:53 pm: the heck?

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

28...so, he hits.

....that was just fucking bizarre.

Malachite *rolls* 3d6: 2+4+6: 12

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1 = 25 vs TN of 9

Shaken and 4 Wounds, putting William at Incap unless you spend Fate Chips to try to soak.

I checked with rolls in the chat room; Jer and Carver were both there. This wasn't some chat spaz attack, but somehow actually just came up that way. I think it's both cool (because I do this in real life with dice, but I'm also not usually the ST of the game) and total crap because I don't want to kill off a character in the first frickin' combat! :(

I would like you to make the rolls for this, as part of the reason for this game is to test out the system and learn it, HOWEVER, I am perfectly fine with fudging the actual game course a bit to keep from gakking William.

You can spend a Fate Chip to make a Vigor roll, any success or raise on the roll removes one Wound. If you don't spend the Fate Chip or don't get any successes (and don't spend another Fate Chip), then you must make a Vigor roll to see what William's exact condition is. Either post the rolls in the Combat OOC before making a post here, or just catch me in chat and we'll hash things out.

Please don't be upset. We will work this out, but I know it can be upsetting and frustrating when something like this, especially so bizarrely, happens so early on in a game. :(

Brave #1:

Move - None.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 3-2: 1 (-2 for partial cover)

Miss

I am awarding Jim a Legend Chip for the utter warping of probability that occurred on rolls yesterday, and he is using it to make the brave re-roll his Shooting roll.

Shooting - Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Damage - Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 5+3: 8 vs TN of 9

No damage.

*kicks probability to keep its ass in gear and not do that again*

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The brave swung again, unceasing in his determination to slay the white manitou's boy. Samuel could feel the magic weakening, but it held long enough to send the axe astray. The Injun growled but instinctively could feel his chance now -

*BAM*

Samuel's Colt was pointed squarely at the Apache's head, and the brave barely felt an odd light-headed feeling before the report of the pistol repeated itself. The brave, red-skinned with blood masking his head, swayed and then collapsed onto the ground.

Samuel sighed, spat on his body, then put on the backpack and cautiously headed towards the sound of more gunfire. Strength in numbers, right?

OOC
[Jeremy] 6:27 pm: Double Tap Shooting in Melee

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 6+1: 7

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

[Malachite] 6:30 pm: Asa - That's not horridly unusually real life dice rolling for me. First time I've seen it translate over to a random dice

program, though.

[Malachite] 6:30 pm: Shadows post.

[Jeremy] 6:31 pm: Wild Die doesn't matter since that's a hit with a raise anyway right?

[Malachite] 6:31 pm: Still roll, you could roll better on the Wild Die.

[Jeremy] 6:31 pm: ok

Jeremy *rolls* 1d6+1: 2+1: 3

Total of 11, even in melee that beats the Parry of the Brave by 5 for a hit and raise.

[Jeremy] 6:34 pm: Damage Roll

Jeremy *rolls* 3d6: 5+3+3+2: 13

Kill, and Mala gave permission to describe.

Samuel will start cautiously moving towards the sound of gunfire... your choice as to whom he finds..

Fate Chips: 2 Blue (32, 35)

Condition: Unharmed

Power Points: 8/10

Deflection Counter: Expires at the end of the round

Reloading Counter: 4/6 fired

Bullets left: 46

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The heathen pursued him down the train. William's leg was on fire, his old injury was slowing him down and giving the injun opportunity to catch him. "Lord, I try not to ask too much, but please don't let me die by the hands of a fellow man who knows not the grace of your light." Gritting his teeth William braced the shotgun to his shoulder once more and fired. The shot looked good, with a little grace it would be enough to let William escape. There truly were more important ways for him to die than this. Without waiting to see the result William continued to limp down the train hoping to leave the savage to his fate.

Mechanics
[jameson] 8:14 am: Multiple Actions - Shoot and Pull a Miracle (-2 to each)

[jameson] 8:14 am: Shotgun d8+2-2

jameson *rolls* 1d8: 6: 6

[jameson] 8:14 am: Wild Die

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

[jameson] 8:14 am: Hit, no raise

[jameson] 8:15 am: Damage is 3d6

jameson *rolls* 3d6: 5+5+4: 14

[jameson] 8:15 am: ooohhh, nice

Recasting Armor!

[jameson] 8:15 am: Miracle d10 -2 +2 -2

jameson *rolls* 1d10: 4-2: 2

[jameson] 8:16 am: Wild Die

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 3-2: 1

[jameson] 8:16 am: Spend a White Fate chip to re-roll

jameson *rolls* 1d10: 5-2: 3

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 6-2: 4

[jameson] 8:16 am: Wooo!

Success without a raise (armor drops to a +2 toughness)

Ammo: empty

Move 5" = 10 yards

Armor Duration: 3 rounds (refreshed) (+2 toughness)

Fate

Fate Chips:

none

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Kait didn’t need a translator to know that she was about to have a very angry brave doing really awful things to her. She had heard the stories and seen the aftermath of Injun attacks. She really didn’t want to survive one; she’d rather make them not-survive it.

Or something. Kyra would have made that clever. She’d been the smart one.

Kaitlin aimed and fired. For a moment, in the flash, she saw a row of empty soup cans and heard her sister laughing at her bad aim. It had been her first time, but Kyra still teased her about it. Had still teased her about it. Her aim had been bad, then. Kaitlin had gotten much better.

The woman put another bullet hole in the brave, hoping this one took him out.

Actions

Moving—not

Action—Shooting Black Stick

[Carver Soze] 5:38 pm: Guns + Wild Die

[Jeremy] 5:38 pm: hey Carver Soze

[Asarasa] 5:38 pm: Dear god! There's two of you!

Carver Soze *rolls* 2d6: 6+4: 10

Hit, I believe.

[Jeremy] 5:40 pm: you forgot to reroll the six on the to-hit

[Jeremy] 5:41 pm: remember? ace'ed

Carver Soze *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Carver Soze *rolls* 2d6: 2+1+1: 4

[Carver Soze] 5:40 pm: Beh.

Asarasa falls on the ground spasming and drooling, overcome by the presence of TWO Carvers... too much Carving...

[Jeremy] 5:40 pm: ...holy suck

[Carver Soze] 5:40 pm: Yeah. That was damage.

[Jeremy] 5:41 pm: it does

[Jeremy] 5:42 pm: the target DC is 4, and getting it over by 7 = a raise

[Carver Soze] 5:42 pm: Ah. I'll tuck on another d6, then.

Carver Soze *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Carver *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

Damage total is 14.

Fate Chips
Carver-working *rolls* 2d35: 4+11: 15

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 0

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Samuel rounded his section of train in time to see a spay of blood as another Injun was put down by metal and salt-peter. As the body fell, the young man could see someone, dressed in threads instead of leathers and far too pale for a native, limping his way down towards the horse car. The sounds of screams and gunshots were coming more rarely now, though most of it was still drowned out by the screaming piles of burning ghostrock. The shudder of the next car William came to, along with a second screaming sound of tortured metal made them both jump.

Shots rang out from inside as both Kaitlin and Talise took their one chance each to down the Injun leader before he bashed their heads in the same way he'd done to the side of the railcar. The ping of bullet hitting metal was followed by language usually reserved for soldiers and sailors; Kaitlin earned a grunt from the large Injun as a bullet lodged in his arm, but if it bothered him at all it only showed when he decided to kill her first. The club came crashing down, sending her head spinning but still somehow intact. Talise pushed back from the hole and tried another shot, hoping the two of them had enough bullets left to down the leader and trying not to think too hard on the Apache still taking shots at them from inside the car.

Mechanics
Braves are already dead or have taken their turn.

Talise's Shot:

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 2: 2

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1

Miss

Spending a Blue Chip to reroll.

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 4: 4

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 4: 4

Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 1: 1

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 4: 4

Total is 9, hit with a Raise!

Damage:

Malachite *rolls* 3d6: 6+1+5: 12

Shaken and 1 Wound

Black Stick -

Spending a White Fate Chip to Soak Talise's damage:

Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 8: 8

Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 2: 2

Total of 8 + 6 = 14, Success with two raises, Black Stick soaks all wounds and is not Shaken.

Spending a White Fate Chip to soak Kaitlin's damage:

Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 2: 2

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Soaks one Wound. Currently at Shaken and 1 Wound, -1 penalty modifier.

Spirit Roll to recover from Shaken:

Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 7-1: 6

Black Stick is not Shaken, but still has 1 Wound and a -1 penalty.

Action:

Attacking Kaitlin, Fighting: Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 8-1: 7

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1-1: 0

Hit.

Damage: Malachite *rolls* 1d10: 6: 6

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 2: 2

Total 8 Damage vs. 5 Toughness.

Kaitlin is Shaken.

Talise's Fate Chips:

White: 1

Red: 0

Blue: 0

Jim spent 2 Red Fate Chips this round, so here's the Marshall's draw for that:

Malachite *rolls* 1d35: 29: 29

Marshall's Fate Chips:

White: 3

Red: 0

Blue: 1

Talise Round 4:

Shooting: Malachite *rolls* 1d4: 3: 3

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 5: 5

Hit.

Damage:

Malachite *rolls* 2d6: 5+6: 11

Hit with a Raise.

Black Stick spends a White Fate Chip to Soak.

Malachite *rolls* 1d8: 6-1: 5

Malachite *rolls* 1d6: 1-1: 0

Black Stick soaks the Wound and is not Shaken, but still has 1 Wound and a -1 penalty.

Talise's Fate Chips:

White: 1

Red: 0

Blue: 0

Marshall's Fate Chips:

White: 2

Red: 0

Blue: 1

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William broke the action of his side-by-side open, hauling the still hot and smoking shells out with his fingers. He fumbled into his coat pocket and removed two new shells, slipping them into the open breech before snapping the weapon closed once again. A whispered word of gospel over the weapon blessed it with the divine power of the man's faith, or so he hoped. He looked around, trying to identify where the shooting was coming from, and looking for any other natives that needed to be dealt with.

Mechanics

[jameson] 10:08 am: taking multiple actions: reloading, then casting smite

[jameson] 10:09 am: Casting d10+2-2 (for multiple actions) = d10

jameson *rolls* 1d10: 8: 8

jameson *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1

[jameson] 10:09 am: passed with a raise (+4 damage)

[jameson] 10:09 am: supah shotgun!

Ammo: 2 shots Smited!

Move: none

Armor Duration: 2 rounds (+2 toughness)

Smite Duration: 3 rounds (+4 damage)

Fate

Fate Chips:

none :(

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Samuel stepped out, raising his hands so that the older man could see no sign of hostility. "Glad to see I'm not alone here, Mister. Good shooting, by the way." More shots made his gaze turn as well to see who else was shooting.

OOC
Fate Chips: 2 Blue (32, 35)

Condition: Unharmed

Power Points: 8/10

Reloading Counter: 4/6 fired

Bullets left: 46

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