"Let's see what the situation is before deciding, but that might be a good idea. You thinking to head rearward into the freight cars?"
Doc considers briefly, then looks around the group. "Any of us have a way to communicate or at least monitor remotely? Wouldn't do for one party to run up against more than they can handle and the other not know."
"Also... does anyone have a way to quickly put out fires?"
Leland notices a dead gnome with pink hair in a pool of blood. And a small creature with green skin and pointy ears.
Caitlyn heads toward the shooting. She will open the door, see the dead gnome and draw a bead on a green-headed, big-eared, gnome-murdering SOB.
Unless that causes a problem, of course. If it is....nevermind. 8)
The murder of the gnome angered Caitlyn, so she burst through the door, aimed and pulled the trigger.
The hammer fell, but there was no shot. To her horror, she suddenly remembered the second law of the Way of the Gun.
Fire True. A gunslinger never fires on the unarmed or the unaware. Hold your fire for battle and duels.
The goblin turns around, and Caitlyn sees him absentmindedly chewing on a severed hand. He sees Caitlyn and snarls.
"Flesh for the Skin Walker!"
Everyone is up but Loveless. Caitlyn, you may fire again when ready.
"Danged fools," thinks Loveless as everyone goes pouring out into the passageway. "Assessment before engagement!"
He steps out into the corridor and, momentarily ignoring the escalating confrontation, takes time to look in both directions and listen, checking for other enemies or anything out of the ordinary.
Still, he might have to adjust his opinion of the halfling. She certainly hadn't hesitated to leap into the fray. Perhaps she was the most vicious one.
And then he thought back to her incessant nattering. "Or insane," he amended.
Mallory almost chortles at the girl's gun jamming. 'Lucky for her she ain't after me.' Mallory thought with a grin. Despite the obvious problems going on outside, she made no move to get down from her bunk, deciding to see how it played out first. 'Rule 3,' she thought. 'Best way to get t'know someone is to fight 'em. This wasn't quite the same, but it would do in a bind.
She sat up completely, her legs dangling over the side of the bed, and kept her gun ready. With an eye on the door, she listened for what would happen next.
Mallory hears the snarls of additional goblins. There is more than one out there.
Caitlyn takes a step back, quickly unjams her musket with a practiced hand and then opens fire.
And then the goblins head explodes in an orgy of gore.
Leland moves to E7 and casts summon monster 1, causing an eagle to appear in E11
"How did goblins get on the train? We must eliminate them before they can cause irreversible harm."
N Small animal
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +10
DEFENSE
AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+2 Dex, +1 natural, +1 size)
hp 5 (1d8+1)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +2
OFFENSE
Speed 10 ft., fly 80 ft. (average)
Melee 2 talons +3 (1d4), bite +3 (1d4)
"Smuggled on in crates and boxes would be my guess. Clearly a well thought-out operation."
"Well, except for using goblins in a plan of any significance, that's simply insane."
Doc blinks in surprise as an eagle forms out of nothingness. He glances from it to the other gnome.
"I definitely need to speak with this gentleman later."
"I certainly hope it ain't as you say. Goblins using their brains is a mighty unpleasant thing to be considering." Ira nods to the fiery-haired gnome as he passes, heading towards the commotion in the hallway. He peers out, grimacing at the sight of the splattered corpse. He notes the summoned eagle - apparently the gnome with the machine had some skill in his own favored area of magic. Later on he would have to ask about it, but now was not the time.
Ira's mouth is held in a grimace, as it had been since even before the unpleasant view that lay before him. It was the goblin's battle cry that had disturbed him.
The Skin Walker... are these disgustin' violators simple worshipers, or is this some kinda religious conquest?
The idea of the foul things boarding the train in some sick crusade is offensive to Ira, and he begins to mutter to himself quietly. His hands move to the noose about his neck, some of his fingers fitting along the molded grooves of metal rope, his ring and little finger slipping through the open end. His grasp tightens as his voice grows in intensity, and the speech becomes clear to the others, though they most likely cannot understand the words. It speaks right into the ear of those present, though the distance between Ira and each of the rest varies. Both a whisper and a shout, it soothes uncertainty and urges blood to pump. It feels like a presence, one that hangs watchful and protective in the air.
Doc snorts derisively. "That presupposes goblins have brains, which I highly doubt. They're angry eating machines and little more. No, someone else is behind whatever's going on here."
If Doc's racism affects Mallory, she doesn't show it. Stepping out into the hall behind the others, she takes aim at one of the more threatening looking goblins and opens fire, but misses as the goblin dodges the shot. As she's reloading the weapon she looks briefly at Doc and says, "Rule 4. Ne'er underestimate your enemy."
The goblin avoids the birds strikes.
"I eats you nows!" it screams at the bird before swiping at it with its little sword.
The goblin's sword takes a piece of the summoned bird's wing. The goblin cackles when the eagle shrieks in pain. The second goblin snickers as well.
"Yes, yes! Food! Food!"
It then runs past the eagle.
The eagle tries to peck the disgusting creature, but misses. It then charges at Caitlyn, brandishing his ugly blade.
But Caitlyn deftly dodges the clumsy attack with a sneer of contempt on her face.
"Reserve that advice for whoever's fighting me, miss."
Doc grumbles over the close quarters and lack of opportunities to join the fray. He considers risking a crossbow shot at the nearest goblin, but he'd be shooting right past the halfling girl. And she hadn't yet annoyed him enough to warrant that.
But he catches glimpses of another goblin in a cabin farther down the passageway.
"మండు!" The gnome barks an arcane word and, suddenly, a blinding flash erupts near the far end of the train car.
A flash of light and the once cackling Goblin shrieks in annoyance but then giggles.
"Likes shiny!"
Leland draws his crossbow and urges on his summoned eagle.
The eagle continues to attack G3, but misses terribly.
N Small animal
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +10
DEFENSE
AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+2 Dex, +1 natural, +1 size)
hp 3/5 (1d8+1)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +2
OFFENSE
Speed 10 ft., fly 80 ft. (average)
Melee 2 talons +3 (1d4), bite +3 (1d4)
Caitlyn dives to her right into another cabin trying to get some distance from the Goblin.
She cartwheels to the side and back, and then spins around. And then with a flurry of movement she reloads her weapon. The cocking back of the hammer is loud and terrifying.
As Caitlyn jumps out of the way, Mallory takes the opportunity to shoot at the Goblin who had been attacking the smaller 'Slinger. Mallory grumbles as she reloads her weapon, displeased at how the fight is going, and trying not to wonder if she's slowing down.
Mallory's bullet crashes through the glass of the Passenger Car and hits the goblin's arm. But if it felt pain it didn't show it. Instead it focused on Leland, stepped forward and attacked with it's short sword.
But its attack is awkward due to the bullet lodged in its arm. It looks down to see the blood streaming down from his wound and yells.
"Owies! Owies! Owies!"
---
The other goblin takes another swipe at the summoned eagle that goes wild.
"No fairsies. Birdy flap too much!"
Doc's head snaps around as the glass window of the door shatters. "Perdition's flames, woman! No need for wanton property destruction!"
Returning his attention to the doorway, the gnome takes a step back and to the side. Growling a curse at the goblin, he pulls his arm back and flicks his wrist in an unusual way. One would have to be watching closely to see the dagger appear in his hand a scant instant before he flings it at the enemy. "Goblin scum!"
Mallory glares at Doc, clearly not pleased at being told what to do. She opens her mouth to voice a snark reply, but pauses when she sees how quickly he throws a dagger at the goblin. Figuring that she wanted to know more before causing problems, she simply raised her gun to fire at the goblin again.
As Mallory glared at Doc Loveless, the Goblin fell over dead onto the carpet, a combination of bullet and dagger wounds.
"Owies..." it said quietly as the last gasp of breath left it's body.
Mallory grinned as the goblin dropped, moving further down the hallway into the train. As she walked she took a deep drink from her flask, basking in the thrill of having ended a life. She walked towards the wounded Dwarf, in no hurry at all. As she approached, she heard a noise from the cabin, and turned and fired without hesitation.
The goblin stupidly looks at Mallory with a confused look on its face. And then a bullet shatters its eye socket. And the back of its skull disappears in a grisly mess. The Goblin slumped over -- dead even before it hit the ground.
As Mallory looked down at the Dwarf, she noticed it was Vincente, from that morning. The man who had to deliver medicine to the people of Dry City.
He dimly recognizes you, and tries to communicate, but he only succeeded in a wet gurgle as a small font of blood spilled from his lips. His eyes roll back, and he passes on to face his final Judgement before the Hangman.
"Ah, s!&~." Mallory mutters, looking down at Vincente. She crouches down and reaches out a hand to close his eyes. 'S'pose I'll have to deliver the medicine now.' she frowned. It was one thing to encourage him doing it, but another to go out of her way. It wasn't like she was getting paid for it. And doing things without getting paid left one hungry and cold. Mallory picked up the Dwarf's gun, wondering if she might be able to repair it. Though broken, it still seemed better than her battered old pistol. She put it into her bag, and looked back and forth across the hallway. "The hell were you doin' out here, you old fool." She muttered
A cautious head peeks out from the cabin's doorway. Ira felt rather the fool. His prayers had been rather grandiose, and yet when the bullets and daggers began flying in earnest he hadn't been willing to step out into the hallway and make his morningstar known. He shakes the guilt off, as it'll be no boon to him.
A foot follows the head, and in a moment Ira is out of the cabin and down the hall, towards Mallory. He can't help but take several glances back over his shoulder as he walks, and also into other cabins. Although it seems that all attackers are dead, he can't help but be somewhat jumpy. There's also the issue of the messes made on the floor, which Ira steps carefully over. Upon sight of the dead dwarf, the guilt returns with a surge. Ira sighs. He kneels and holds his noose directly over the dwarf's chest, and begins to mutter in the same tongue as his previous prayer.
Ira places a hand lightly on Mallory's shoulder. He had not seen her take the gun, but the look on her face indicates to him that they were at least acquaintances. In his other hand his grip tightens on the hilt of his weapon, and his ears nearly twitch as he listens for disturbances from other passenger cars. "I'm sorry. Did you know him?"
There are a few torn up corpses in the other cabins. It seemed the goblins enjoyed quietly slitting the throats of the passengers. Most of the casualties were adults on business, it seemed. But one might have been a family. A little boy looks to have had his face smashed in with a blunt object.
There is a trail of blood from the dead dwarf leading to the rear of the train, toward the cargo holds.
The moment the immediate danger is passed, Leland drops to his knees and begins the ritual to summon his eidolon.
Doc steps out into the hallway to retrieve his dagger, which he loads back into his wrist sheath after resetting it.
Seeing the other gnome beginning some sort of incantation, Doc stands quietly in the doorway , observing while casting occasional glances up and down the passageway.
After a minute passes, Leland's Eidolon is willed into being. But meanwhile, Doc Loveless notices that there is a single survivor in the Passenger Car, an elf. He has a nasty welt on his head, and was possibly taken out silently by the Goblins.
He moans quietly and begins to stir.
Benjamin groaned as his throbbing head protested when he sat up. I don't recall drinking during Carnivale, he thought to himself - a split second before he registered the rattle of the train and the thick smell of blood.
"Whoa, now!" He jumped to his feet, only staggering a little when the world spun before settling. A gun appeared like magic in his hand, targeting the Doc with a steadiness that belied his previous gracelessness. "If you mean to cause a ruckus, fella, you'd better think twice about doing it with a knife against a gun." The gun in question looked as rough as the man himself did - but it also had an unusual shape, with a cylinder behind the barrel.
The man - an unshaven fellow who nevertheless had the good looks of elven blood, squinted at Doc Loveless, his green eyes flicking momentarily beyond the carnage in the carriage to the hallway beyond.
"What in the name o' the nameless is going on, here?"
Clad in dusty-looking clothes, the man had been sleeping wearing two bandoliers and his gunbelt - obviously a nervous sort. On the lower bunk beside him, a pile of iron-studded leather armor and a long, curved sword in a battered sheath lay under a wide-brimmed hat. He had pushed the duster he'd been sleeping under aside when he stumbled to his feet.
Miguelito turns at the sound of the moan behind him but, before he can do much more than that, the half-elf leaps to his feet and begins issuing orders and demanding answers.
Doc's gaze falls upon the gun aimed at him, then roves upwards to the elfkin's face... then farther, to the welt on his head.
"Unstable. Or disoriented. Dangerous either way."
Speaking with more composure than he actually feels, he addresses the man. "Sir, I was going to ask if you need medical attention. But given the circumstances," he says dryly as his eyes return to the gun, "I'll instead strongly suggest you put that thing away. Or at least stop pointing it at me."
When the man doesn't immediately react, Doc adds, "Pulling that trigger is no guarantee a dagger or worse won't be on its way to your heart before I fall dead. And I suspect you'll wish you'd saved your ammunition for the foul goblins running amok on this train."
He concludes in almost a low growl, "Now lower your weapon before I'm forced to take action. We're aboard a runaway and there's no time for this foolishness."
Benjamin eyed the gnome seriously, clearly still undecided on whether he should fire after the Doc's threat. "Just you back up, then, and give me some room." His swimming head spun with the knowledge that a drawn gun was a fired gun. All the same, the gnome didn't have any blood on him, the way someone who had caused this much bloodshed ought to have. Goblins, he supposed, seemed the more likely culprits.
Benjamin edged toward the hallway, peering out at the mess the party had made of their assailants. His gun, which had remained up and ready for trouble, was finally lowered, though not holstered.
"Shooter, forgive me," he muttered, grimacing and running a hand over the lump on his head. "You don't know if you got 'em all?" He glanced out at the others in the hall, weighing them on an internal scale even as he listened to the churn of the wheels outside. Yep, they were going too fast. Looked like the gnome was telling the truth.
You're a damn fool, Ben. How could you be so careless you nearly got bled out by a goblin? Well, it won't be no matter if you run off the Rails.
"I believe you, short stuff. Either we get onto the engine and lay on the brakes, or we'd better uncouple our cars from it in a damn hurry." He nodded to the others. "Any o' you seen where the goblins come from?"
Relieved but not wanting to "back" anywhere, Doc instead steps to the side and, with a smirk, bows and gestures grandly towards the compartment door... then stands up straight and holds his hands outward, palms up, fingers splayed, to show he hasn't a readied weapon.
He watches the man with a calculating eye as the half-elf surveys the carnage and the rest of the surviving passengers. "No way to know, though I doubt it's only the two in this car."
He shakes his head at Benjamin's action assessment. "Uncoupling our car would make it worse for those engineward... and we're in the last passenger car, so that's nigh onto everybody. I owe nothing to anyone on this train, but there's no sense in needless loss of life. We'd have to uncouple just behind the coal car, and at that point we might as well continue on to the engine and shut it down properly."
"But, there's an auxiliary brake engagement at the rear of the train. It won't stop us while we're under power -- and would burn out eventually to boot -- but it might buy us some time. And my theory is those atrocities hid in crates loaded on as cargo, which is also rearward. There was talk of splitting up and heading both directions, but that might not be wise. I've not had time to run the odds."
"Plains o' Perdition, I didn't mean to just uncouple this car! I haven't gone and lost my religion," the half-elf growled testily. Especially not with a priest of the Hangman lookin' right at me. He ducked back into his compartment, re-emerging with his blade on his back.
He eyed the other survivors, the gnomes in particular. "I reckon there isn't much time for discussion. If we head back, we might buy us some time and find a passle o' goblins. If we head forward, not only will we get closer to slowing down the engine before we hit a curve and jump the tracks, we might find other passengers still alive to help us - though they may not be for long if we dally here - maybe even send 'em back while we go forward, if they've weapons like us. If any of you're heading to the engine, I'm with you."
Doc snorts. "I'm surprised a man who pulls a gun on an innocent person would have any religion to lose."
"We might find 'a passel of goblins' -- as you put it -- heading forward as well. There has to be a reason the train's going full tilt."
Doc jerks his head at Leland. "This gentleman's with the railroad, so I imagine he knows how to run an engine."
He stares briefly at the now-present brass-and-steel automaton that resembles a lion more than anything. "Bother, I missed what he was doing."
"I'm going as a backup. Never worked a train before but it has to be straightforward, and the engine's going to be built for those of proper stature... that means either me or the halfling girl. Enough said, I think?"
"Now look here," Benjamin said with a glower, jabbing a finger at Loveless. "If you woke up with a headache like the Grizzly Herself was clawin' at your brain and found a lot of dead folks and a fella with a knife out standing over 'em, would you assume he was innocent? You're lucky I didn't put a bullet in you just to be sure of things, and let the Nameless sort out what's what." He rubbed at the welt on his head and grimaced. "A belt to the head isn't enough to drive a man mad, so there's no call to be saying so."
He eyed Leland. "I expect we'd best be going then, don't you think?" He jerked his head in the direction of the engine in invitation, then moved out into the corridor and trotted forward.
"Ah yes, the classic tallfolk approach," says Doc sourly. "When in doubt, kill it."
"I would assume nothing. Try what you did with the wrong folks, sir, and you'll find yourself waking up dead rather than with a goose egg on your noggin."
Doc jerks his head towards the front of the car and lowers his voice a bit. "I suspect that lady up there is a prime example. Mind what you say to that one, if you want my advice."
"As for your head trauma... no, I agree it's unlikely to have any connection with your madness," he says with a subtle smile.
Mallory's eyes jerk to Ira as he asks her about the man. "Vincente." She replied, checking his pockets. "Met 'em earlier today. Was bringing medicine to another border town." She said it as almost a challenge, and looked at Ira with a degree of curiosity, wondering how a man of religion would react to such information.
When the gnome dropped to his knees to begin a ritual, she rolled her eyes, assuming that he, too, was praying. 'Too many g~@#~~ned, well, god-folk on this train.' she thought. Commotion up ahead caught her attention, and she looked up to see the Doc arguing with the barrel of a gun. 'Too many g~*~+*ned Slingers, too.' she thought with a glare. Resisting the urge to use Ira as a shield, she stood up, keeping her had near her gun.
"Goblins." she muttered. "Ain't often smart enough work alone. Not a place like this. Reckon they're after somethin'." She looked at Ira out of the corner of her eye, and whispers. "That Slinger looks trouble, don't he? How'd he survive, anyway?"
Ah, so splitting the group isn't an option?
Whirling, rattling gears and pistons fly in from seemingly nowhere to coalesce before Leland and soon the gleaming metallic beast from before stands steaming before him. Standing up, he dusts off his knees and pats the automaton affectionally.
"They are goblins. They have murdered children in their sleep and they have sullied the sanctity of the railroad. They will die, by our hand or at then end of a rope. There is no forgiveness for this. I for one will not lose sleep over their deaths, but now is not the time for petty arguments."
"The brake will slow us, but wont stop us. If we are delayed, we might not even slow it in time. Besides, it gives these vermin more opportunity to damage the engine controls. If they cause too much damage we'll never be able to stop it. I say we head to the front car, while we still might have an element of surprise."