Claire snarls. "How the f*cking hell did this gobsh*te survive that?! This is bull." She fires another round off, making another solid hit on the leader's chest. "And stay down this time!"
Claire's second shot strikes the horseman in the back, and he lets out a cry of pain as his back arches over. His hands shoot up and he loses his grip on the reins, and topples off the horse as it keeps running. He lands heavily on a sharp stone, and as distant as he is, a snap of bone is heard. He lies very still.
The bandits keep up their assault, although one looks behind and sees that the horseman is down. "They shot Clarkson!" he cries, and he doesn't fire, but the rest continue shooting, mostly at the same targets, although a pair begin reloading their older weapons, and one who shot at Eddy turns his attention to Cornelius. Most of the gunfire pings off cover, but Cornelius has a narrow brush when a rifle round passes through his coattail. He retaliates with a brilliant shot that takes the man high in the chest and drops him.
4 Carbine wielders: 1 firing on the train, 1 firing at Cornelius, 1 reloading, 1 dead
1 Rifleman: Reloading (Musket)
2 Shotgunners: 1 dead, 1 firing on the train (double-barreled, so about to reload)
1 Horseman: Dead
"Damnit man, that is property of the State of Georgia militia and the Confedate States of America military you done put a hole in!"
Cornelius pops the man who shot at him, as earlier rolled.
Biff charges at the biggest, meanest looking bandit in the bunch.
"Here! A present for you directly from jolly old England!"
Biff's fist connects with a thud, and a slight explosion of dust puffs off the man's chest.
Askuwheteau attempts to sneak up on one of the shooters on the outskirts of the group and impale him with the loaned saber.
Biff charges in alongside Eddy, and beelines straight for the bandit with the double-barreled shotgun. The man has just time enough to look up in shock as a meaty, British fist comes rushing in. A cloud of dust explodes as Biff plants his feet in the sand, and his fist connects with the man's gut, also lifting him into the air before depositing him, with a fair fewer intact ribs, onto the desert ground.
Eddy, not to be outdone by his old friend, rushes the man who shot him. His punch is a powerful straight to the man's chest, catching him as he's reloading his carbine. Almost as if defying the laws of physics as we know them, the bandit flies backward almost fifteen feet and slams into a cactus, which bends over slightly under his weight before supporting him on the spines. He drops the the carbine, coughs a spray of blood, and twitches once or twice before falling still.
Meanwhile, Askuwheteau sneaks up on one of the bandits on the outskirts and gets the drop on him. The bandit never sees it coming as the Native, with uncanny stealth, runs him through the chest with the saber. Even accounting for the unorthodox use of the weapon, the blow is fatal, and the man dies without ceremony, bleeding out into the sand.
Asku: Ace of Clubs
Biff: 10 of Clubs
Claire: 6 of Spades
Cornelius: Queen of Hearts
Eddy: Queen of Diamonds
Samuel: 10 of Spades
Cowboys: 3 of Diamonds
Claire takes aim at another bandit, one of the pistol wielders, and fires at him. She smirks as her bullet slams into the man's chest, leaving a bloody hole that seems much too large for even a .44 to make in a human being.
Askuwheteau fades backwards after his kill and moves towards to next gunslinger ready to repeat the process.
Askuwheteau looks down at the saber in his hand, "I'll need to look into getting my hands on one of these things, they're damn useful haha."
One of the pistoliers goes down without even a grunt, blown backwards from behind his cover. He collapses on the ground, blood seeping out from the massive hole in his chest.
Askuwheteau lives up to his name and quickly moves to another bandit, slashing out his throat as he turns to regard the Cherokee.
Eddy continues his streak and dashes off to the rifleman, who is carried into the air by the force of the Brit's assault. The pair launch a good five feet into the air, and the word shoryuken flows through everyone's minds, although they aren't sure why. The remaining three bandits, all equipped with revolvers, quiver with fear in the desert air, seeing their allies casually gunned down and thrown about like rag dolls.
Cornelius pops out and puts a bullet square in the chest of one of the men and then decides to be all talky.
"Boys, I am inclined to remind you that as a gentleman of the military, it would be poor form me to shoot dead like a dog anyone surrendering. Or you can, you know, keep fighting, and be like your compatriot with the lead injection. Now it may be improper for me to shoot you in the back as you run, but if'n you're considering that, I should point out your knees ain't your back, and I will cripple you if you think that's option C. A good sign of surrendering is droppin them thar shootin irons and putting your hands up like a prayer, which you won't have if you keep fighting."
"Let's make a game of it, shall we? See who can knock these ruffians the furthest!"
Samuel looks on in shock as the man continues to hold onto his reins, his eyes wide. As Claire's bullet takes him down, he instead pulls two more cards from his deck. As he peeks over the lip of the window, he picks a target while the rest engage in fighting outside. When he gets the chance, he pops up into view and sends another two cards whistling into a man's chest.
-----
Sam takes stock of the situation and sends another pair of cards flying out, empowered by his magic. The first catches one of the Cowboys in the gut, doubling him up. As he looks back up he catches the second between the eyes, and collapses to the ground.
Meanwhile, Cornelius leans out over his cover and fires a round into another of the bandits, sending another body sprawling to the ground. He starts to call out for surrender, but even as the man starts to stand up, Samuel invokes darker magic, calling on the power of the spirits directly to grant him power...
The Dealer's grin widens further as each card slaps on the table, showing no hand. King of Spades, 4 of Spades, 9 of Clubs. The grin remains at the 6 of Spades, although it flickers. When the 3 of Spades shows up, his grin fades entirely, and when the sixth card--one Samuel has been entitled to since his first success at the game--shows the Jack of Spades, the Dealer drops the rest of the deck. Although his face is still hidden, Samuel has the clear sense that he now bears a sour frown.
Y̴ou m̨ay͡ h̴av̛e̶ w͢o͢n ̛th͡i͘s time,́ Da҉ddy'̀s͞ Boy.͜ ̡B̵ut̡ ͜s͜ooner͏ oŕ ͟lat̸er̛ you̧r lųck̶ ͟w̸i̶lļ t͝ùr͘n͏. With that, the Dealer shuffles the cards back into the deck and Sam snaps back to the train.
A third card rushes from Samuel's hand, flying through the air with the speed of lightning. It crashes into the last bandit's chest with a sound like a gunshot, and he topples over to the ground, stone dead. The last echoes of gunfire and the sounds of battle fade, and the only sounds in the scene now are the groans of the dying and some passengers coming to in the train cars.
"Let's make a game of it, shall we? See who can knock these ruffians the furthest!"
1d8+1d6+2
"Fancy card slinging rich boy," Claire says as she pops the chamber on her revolver and lets the spent shells clink to the floor. She pulls a handful of bullets from her coat pocket and reloads the empty slots. "Keep my little light show quiet and my lips are sealed. We've got that in common." She holsters the gleaming six-shooter and looks around. "Let's see who's still kickin'." She goes to check on the passengers, seeing who's regaining consciousness and who's gone to join the angels.
"Hot Damn, that was some action! Lets look over these red sashed idiots and loot them, er, engage in proper guerilla tactics for the acquisition of superior tactical equipment. Right, though, folks that was some serious fighting, and nobody on our side got hurt....Also...what in the hell was going on inside that train? I didn't think Miss Claire's gun was a hand cannon, it looked like a colt just like mine, but the hole in that boy's chest looks like it's from a shotgun slug, and I don't know WHAT that dapper boy was doing!"
Askuwheteau takes Cornealius's suggestion to heart as he straightens up and begins looking over the bodies of the fallen bandits, stabbing any that still draw breath in order to end their suffering. Whenever Askuwheteau ends the life of one of the bandits you might hear him say under his breath, "May you find peace with your ancestors." before slowly going through their things.
Inside the train, Claire checks on the passengers in their current car. Richard Chasen, Jacob Emmet, Harold Buchanan, and the Squatpumps were all in the car when the train crashed, and they're currently in varying states of recovery from getting spilled on the ground and bumping their heads. Aloysius Squatpump is currently the most alert, and he rubs his hair--matted more by grease than any blood, no doubt--and frowns up at Claire and Samuel. "Th'f*ck wuzzat?" he slurs. Claire glances toward the front, but it doesn't take eagle's eyes to see that the coal car and engine went down into the gorge and caused the crash. The crew up there is probably dead.
Outside, in the remains of the shootout, Cornelius and Askuwheteau set about gathering up weapons from the bandits. All are carrying simple hunting knives, as well as their various weapons and some extra ammunition, although not much. Seems the banditos weren't planning for an extended gunfight.
12 knives
1 Bowie knife
2 Colt Single Action Army revolvers
1 Colt Lightning revolver
1 LeMat grapeshot revolver
1 Schofield .44 revolver (same stats as a Colt SAA)
1 Starr cap and ball revolver
2 Spencer carbines
1 Sharps '55 carbine
1 Single-barrel shotgun
1 Double-barrel shotgun
1 Springfield rifle
1 Winchester '73 rifle
-Ammo-
.38 revolver cartridges, 10
.40 revolver cartridges, 10
.44 revolver cartridges, 30
.44 revolver cap and balls, 10
.44-40 rifle cartridges, 15
.56 rifle cartridges, 24
.57 rifle powder and balls, 5
.58 rifle powder and balls, 5
12 gauge shotgun shells, 12
-Money-
$31 and change
"Smashing good show, everyone! We showed those bandits what for!"
Claire offers a hand to Aloysius to help him to his feet. "Outlaws," she says simply. "They've been taken care of, but most of the others have still been knocked senseless. You feelin' alright?."
As he searches the bodies of the bandits Askuwheteau finds the bowie knife on the leader of the bandits, and grabs it after only kicking away the guns of the others. "Hmm not quite a 'saber' but certainly better than my knife." Askuwheteau then slides the knife into his belt and continues to search the bodies, mostly ignoring guns and ammo.
Samuel shakes his head for a moment, still a little shaken after his "deal". He walks out from the train car, making it a point to pick out the playing cards still stuck amongst the dead and dying. "What are you talking about?" Samuel says to Cornelius, as the man wonders aloud. "I figured it was pretty self explanatory." He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the blood from their edges, examining them. "Hmm... I'll have to take a stone to these edges, keep them sharp." After a while, he folds up the bloody cloth and places the cards back into the box.
|
Eddy pats himself to remove the dust and turns to Biff "What happened, Biff? You fell behind today! Did you forget to do your squats this morning?" he looks back to the combat scene "These fine fellas sure like to fly Hahahahaha! Well, next fight we should heat up a bit before. I almost got hurt by that bullet." he starts to walk back to the wagon where the weapons are stored "How 'bout we take our things and resume the card game? That map have lighted the flame of adventure in my heart!"
"Lookie here, son, I am a good Christian soldier, I don't have no track with what you, sir, are talkin' bout, but it seemed as if you threw a playin' card at a man that exploded like it were some kind of bottle of nitro, only, targeted, and in his face. That...that ain't natural. Now, given you done it to defend this here train from robbery, which ain't rightly heathen, I'm'a choose to think you are blessed from above in some way, or I need to find some pills to take or somethin' on account of hallucinations, because, let me assure you, there is no way anythin' of that sort is natural!"
Cornelius grabs all of the .44 ammo, and 12-gauge shells for his shotgun in the baggage car, as well as the Starr Revolveer (for future double-tapping endeavors with the same kind of gun). "This is what my training Captain used to call 'Requisitioning Quartermaster Reaper for Equipment', or some such rigmarole."
Aloysius Squatpump takes Claire's hand, leaving what feels like a thin layer of grease on her palm. "Ah'm fine," he says, reaching up to take hold of his head. With a quick jerk, he cracks his neck this way and that, and then sits down on one of the seats. "Bandits? Damn. Wish ah could'a helped ye. Me an' mah brother, we're f*ckin' nas with a rifle. Give 'em a what fer."
The other passengers seem to be coming to fine as well. Chasen and Harold seem to recover the quickest to a right state of mind, and they quickly suggest gathering the passengers outside to assess who's injured, who's fine, and who's missing. The bartender tries to take Claire aside toward the front of the train, while Chasen herds the others toward the back.
"Listen." Harold speaks in a hushed tone, glancing at the door. "I don't want to alarm the other folk here, but this ain't good. We're miles from nowhere right now. Tombstone's our best bet but that's a day or more's walk. And the larder was only stocked enough for the trip, so we don't have much food. I don't know how many of the crew are still around, but I'd guess Pete and Maggert took the brunt of the crash, and the others were all in the back when it disconnected." He pauses, and Claire can see more than a little fear and concern on the man's face. "We're in a bad way, here, miss."
- - - - -
Meanwhile, outside the train, the others have just about finished poking over the bodies when they hear a gasp. Looking up, it appears that Misses Denise Merritt and Laura Giles have stepped out of the train. They're soon followed by other passengers; most of the womenfolk among them avert their eyes, and Rick and Jenny try to hide the scene from their boys, to no avail.
Miss Merritt quickly steps up to Cornelius, already with a pen and notepad in hand. "Excuse me, Lieutenant, but could you fill me in on what's happened here? Were we the targets of a train robbery?"
= Total 5
"Yes, Ma'am, it does appear as if those ruffians were with the Cowboy gang, and were lookin' to appropriate the goods of the passengers, and..."
He stops, and listens up.
"And I hear some company, so for your own safety, I suggest you, and anyone else, take shelter within the train itself. I promise you, as breath comes in my body, Ma'am, I ain't lettin' no bandits hurt none on this train, nor take a piece of property...but your safety will be much easier to ensure from within the vehicle. Engine! British Brothers of Bash! Miss Claire and the folks in the train! I hear horses, which could be law, or could be more bandits! I suggest to you what can, find a place to hide until we find out!!"
He gives her a smile, a wink, and reloads his pistol before grabbing the double-barreled shotgun off the dead body and finding a good spot to hide, and aim.
Eddy pats himself to remove the dust and turns to Biff "What happened, Biff? You fell behind today! Did you forget to do your squats this morning?" he looks back to the combat scene "These fine fellas sure like to fly Hahahahaha! Well, next fight we should heat up a bit before. I almost got hurt by that bullet." he starts to walk back to the wagon where the weapons are stored "How 'bout we take our things and resume the card game? That map have lighted the flame of adventure in my heart!"
"It's as I feared! This long, bring trip dulled my skills!"
At Cornealius' exclamation.
"Excellent! Everyone, leave this to us!" Biff cries, and strikes a pose.
Denise Merritt does respond quickly enough to the potential danger of more riders, as do the others, and they move back into the train. Cornelius (and most likely the others outside) get into cover and train their weapons in the direction of the noise. After a few tense moments, though, it becomes apparent that nothing's happening.
"Perhaps we acted prematurely? The bandits did ride in on horses after all! I think they came back!"
Biff heads out to have a closer look.
At Biff's exclamation Askuwheteau pauses for a moment to wonder if the man has a death wish, than hides behind cover.
once in cover Askuwheteau takes a moment to listen for the oncoming riders.
"All I am able to hear are horses, they don't apear to be approaching us and they sound, aggravated. Perhaps they were scared by the gunfire? Either way we may be able to use them."
When Biff heads out, he discovers that his theory is correct. Just over a small rise, behind an outcropping of rock that kept them hidden from the train, are a dozen horses. Tethered to some of the sparse vegetation, they're currently milling about and picking at what grass there is here. Each is fully saddled and tacked, and though they eye Biff warily, they don't try to bolt or run. Seems the posse has found the bandits' rides.
"Aha! I was right!"
"Well, she ain't Persephone, but with these, we can escort the train to town, should it get recoupled and running, or at the least take them as can't walk. I mean the train was voluntarily shut down, no? Means it should be able to get back up, right?"
"I don't know much about trains myself, but I was under the impression they needed an engine to work...?"
"So THAT was that noise? Oh...that's bad. Alright then, it's our duty as upstanding citizens to escort these folks to town. Those what can't walk, such as the infirmed, the children, the elderly, and women, should be given a horse before us capable men."
Cornelius takes a look around to make sure it's safe, before walking back to the rest of the group. "Do these tracks still go on to Tombstone, if we follow them? Injun...I'm sorry, boy, I just can't pronounce your name, but you were a hell of a fighter...I couldn't see nothin' and all of a sudden them boys were droppin like flies! You deserve more than me callin' ya Injun...you got a civilized nickname or somethin'? I would rather be respectful, if'n I can, to an outstandin' example for your people. Anyway, you said you were a scout, no? Think we can find some water, and vittles for these folks? Could be a long walk to town. I know a little land livin', but I ain't no injun, and this is the desert and all, so I can help, if'n you want it."
As Askuwheteau heads over to check on the horses he stops briefly to reply to Cornealius. "I do not currently have another name to go by as I haven't spent much time among you white-men..." Askuwheteau pauses for a moment as he thinks about the request, "I'm afraid that I don't know enough about white-man names to make an adequate choice, if you know of a suitable name you are free to use it. As for water and, vittles, if you mean food I may be able to find some edible shrubbery I believe are best bet for water would be what is in the train though I will look, and I would welcome any help in that regard."
Claire absently wipes her hand off on a nearby seat. "We've got plenty of weapons now that we've cleared out the first wave of bandits. And it's better to be safe than sorry if we're gonna be trying to get movin' again."
She silently nods as the bartender gestures for her to hang back. "Trouble's right. Food ain't so much of a problem as water. We can last a day with empty bellies, but the desert isn't kind to someone with no water. I'm more worried about walkin' ages through the desert when there could be more of those outlaws around. If we take guns from the dead and arm everyone up, we might have a chance, but I doubt most of 'em are that skilled with a shootin' iron." She sighs, rubbing her forehead and thinking about it. "Alright, we need to focus on water. Gather everything you can, but no alcohol. Hopefully we'll have enough to ration it out for a day. We'll take a count of survivors and see how many we're working with."
She mutters a few curses under her breath as Cornealius calls out about the horses. While she's hardly defenseless, most of the others on the train are. "I'll keep them safe," she promises. "Just find out exactly what's out there. We don't need another scuffle now." She draws her Peacemaker again, taking up her position near the window so she has room to open fire while still staying ducked in cover. She gives a small sigh of relief as the others return with the bandit's horses. "Now that's a gift. Makin' out way to town will be a jif with these."
"Before we go running off into the desert, I suggest we recover our possessions from the baggage car. It's not too far back and everything is sure to be stolen if we try to come back for it later."
Harold nods at Claire's comments, and also breathes deep when the horses appear. "Sure thing. Let's see what's what and who we have."
In short order, the posse and other passengers are gathered outside the train. All told it looks like all passengers are accounted for, excepting Mister Seyberth, and mostly uninjured. Miss Penelope Brown seems awful shaken up, and Abiel Squatpump has a broken wrist from the crash, but other than that they seem more or less healthy. Still, it isn't long before grumbling and questions start. Harold tries to be subtle as he checks the engine and coal car to see if the crew made it, but more than a few passengers notice the sad shake of his head when he clambers back up the gorge.
As the posse decides to figure what to do, the decision is reached that food and water are the first priorities. Harold organizes a few of the more able-bodied folk to assist him in getting as much from the dining car's larder packed and outside, while Askuwheteau, "assisted" by Cornelius, searches nearby for edible plants. They don't find much, but a patch of cacti nets some potable water and a few bits of fruit flesh.
By the time everyone's situated, accounted for, and the train's emptied of useful materials, it's the late afternoon, judging by the sun. While the passengers sit in the train's shade and generally recover from the experience, packing what they have, each of the posse who fought off the Cowboys is approached by Laura Giles, motioning for them to meet with her near the dining car, away from the main group of passengers. The six fateful heroes of our tale convene there, along with Miss Giles and Mister Buchanan.
"You seem like dependable and fine folk," Miss Giles begins. "And I should like to thank you for fighting off those brigands. But I'm terribly worried about the rest of the train--the baggage car and caboose, I mean." She pulls out a small folding fan and opens it. "I think I heard some of you mention it already, but could we take a walk back down the tracks and see what happened? I can see it down there, popped off the tracks, and I think it would be best if we could recover as many of our things as possible."
"She's right," Harold speaks up, nodding. "Cold night's coming, and I don't think these folks will be ready to ride out this evening--not that I even think we should, riding at night. And if those bandits come back, we'll want some of the guns stored back there. Being as I'm the only crew member present, I'll go with you."
One of the other passengers--Richard Chasen, the young man who's been mostly quiet so far--comes over at this point, seemingly having overheard the conversation. "If you folks want to take some of the horses down, load them up with supplies, I'll keep a look after the passengers here. We should be able to build a fire to keep warm, if we like." Although his voice is firm enough, those of fine perception notice that Chasen looks at most of the group, but never quite lays his eyes on Cornelius.
Claire does her best to help the people. She's no doctor, but she can at least provide some comfort to anyone who's shaken by the attack. The deaths of the rest of the crew come as no surprise to her, though it's still a bit somber to have lost several good people on what was supposed to be a simple trip.
She follows Miss Giles off to the dining car, pulling her coat tight around herself. "I couldn't have said it better myself," she agrees. "It's right odd that the bandits were planning to rob the train with the attack at the bridge but would have arranged for the baggage car to be away from the train they wanted to loot. Somethin' else must have happened unrelated to the robbery and leavin' it alone could put everyone in danger again."
Claire looks over at Chasen. "That might be best. Let's make sure that guns are distributed to anyone who can fire straight first. If there are more Cowboys, they'll need to be ready. Plus, we'll need the horses to carry the luggage that's still intact back."
After helping lead many of the horses back over towards the train Askuwheteau follows Miss Giles somewhat hesitantly to the dinning car. Odd, most of the white women I've come across avoid me like a youngling avoiding the medicine hut, then again this one has been overly inquisitive, I wonder what she wants.
Askuwheteau notices Richards hesitation to look Cornealius in the eye as Miss Giles asks the small group for help but doesn't know what to make of it, Hmm does he have something against the man himself? or is he avoiding him do to his connection to this countries military? This one needs watching. Coming out of his own thoughts Askuwheteau turns once more to Cornealius after Miss Giles and Harold had said their piece. "Would you mind if I continued to use your saber until I have retrieved my weapons?"
"Riding at night may be best, right? It won't be so blasted hot!"
"Of course," Chasen replies. He's quick to make eye contact with Claire, and holds her gaze as he nods. "I'm a fair shot, and I bet those Squatpump boys know how to handle a gun. We'll keep things safe while you check the baggage car. Take as many horses as you like."
Harold, meanwhile, turns to Biff and raises an eyebrow. "You're not from around here, are you, son?" He rubs his jaw and shakes his head. "Desert might be hot enough in the day, but come nightfall, it cools down real quick. And given the time of year?" He looks off toward the sun and his face turns grim. "It's gonna get cold. Damn cold. We'll want heat, we'll want light, and we'll want shelter. And staying by the train's our best bet for all three."
|
|
After Harold tells Biff of the "perils of the desert" he starts to laugh. Like, a real lot "And then they say we are the pansy ones! Hahahahaha!" he cleans a manly tear from his face"Well, we should be off now if we want to make it back before you all start chatting about the desert boogeyman or something.".
As he walks to the biggest horse he turns back to Biff "Ey Biff, how are we supposed to use these things? I remember the head goes in front but that's all I know." he examines the horse legs, judging its might "Will it support us? I think I can lift more weight than him hahahaha!"
"I think you give them a swift kick and they start going!"