Stepping through the swinging doors of the dingy tavern after her companions, the Jinin elf stops and squints, eyeing the occupants with a scowl on her face. Blowing a lock of her long platinum white hair away from her dark eyes, she lifts her tree-shaped rifle from her shoulder and places the stock on the ground, holding the barrel for support.
Taking a whiff, she curls her lip in disgust.
"Ugh. This saloon stinks like a mildewed saddle blanket after it had been rid on a sore back hoss three hundred miles in midsummer."
She says quietly to herself.
She looks down and notices her goblin friend pawing a decorative vase on a side table next to the door.
"No, Zakzak. That vase belongs to the tavern. Leave it alone."
She chides, as he looks up at her feigning innocence.
"I reckon we oughta get ourselves a table an' take a load off our feet. I'm quite famished, too. Let's see what kinda grub they got on the menu."
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Zakzak looks back to Zindarel as he is reaching inside the vase. "But what if there's something hidden inside? Like in those stories and games? There's always something hidden in pots and vases!" He sticks his head inside the vase, nearly tipping it over and crashing to the floor. The goblin suddenly rights it and pushes it back into place. He quickly backs away. "Nope, nothing in there. But I'm glad I checked! Can never be too careful." He taps the side of his head very seriously.
The goblin joins the elf at the table, his legs dangling far above the floor while he also struggles to see over the edge of the table. Finally he gives an exasperated grunt and stands on the chair. He takes a long sniff. "Oh, that smells amazing, doesn't it Zin? I can't wait to see what that smell is." Razor sharp teeth show in a wide grin. He opens his coin purse and squints inside. He pokes a finger in and frowns. "Maybe need to find more pots..."
Zindarel rolls her eyes as Zakzak removes his head from the vase with an audible 'pop!'
"Well, you do manage to find interesting bits of junk everywhere. I won't be surprised when you happen to find a ring of three wishes one of these days."
"From the looks and stench of this place, they prolly got boiled rattlesnake in clam sauce."
She says as she scrunches her nose.
Zin rolls her eyes again in slight embarrassment as she looks at the little goblin sitting at the table like a toddler.
"Let me help you with that."
Leaning her firearm against the table, ("Keep an eye on that."), she walks over to a well-worn sofa against the wall and grabs the two small and nearly thread-bare decorative end pillows.
She walks back over and hands the pillows to Zakzak.
"Here. Place these under your fanny. Oh, look! This pillow has a little embroidered kitty-cat."
She smiles warmly at her friend.
Zin glances about the tavern then stares at the entryway in anticipation for a moment. She then turns back to the goblin.
"I'm gettin' worried, Zak. I wonder where Booker and Doc are."
She says worriedly, biting her lip.
"Trouble always seems to find Doc and I'm a-fearin' she may have gotten herself in a bit of a pickle again."
She suddenly chuckles with a smile, remembering one of the times Doc got in trouble.
"Heh. I love it when she tells that story about that one time she almost got hanged. We paid one helluva handsome bail for that one. We'll hafta pester her to tell it again when her and Booker get here... if they get here."
Her expression, once again, turns to worry as she glances at the door.
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The Doctor after doing some shopping walks in as she hears Zindarel talk. Me in trouble, no, I just had some shopping to do, first to lighten the load and second to get better stuff for what I'm capable of doing and to survive better.
She takes out her gunsmith cleaning kit out of her backpack and lays it on the table. There, now I'm no longer encumbered, I hate being a weakling.
Zindarel breaths a sigh of relief.
"Shopping? And you went without me? Oh, well. I can get some new boots another time. Good to hear you didn't get in any trouble."
Zin raises a brow at Doc.
"You did pay for those items, right?"
She says with a wry smile in an accusatory tone.
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While the two taller one debate the merit of exchanging coins for things, the goblin reaches over to take the spoon from the table in front of Doc. He looks at it and nods, slipping it into his coat pocket.
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Situated deep within the Mana Wastes, the city of Alkenstar blends remarkable technology with a constant air of imminent danger. Haunted by deadly mutants and sitting between two competing wizard nations, the people of Alkenstar are protected by pistol-toting shieldmarshals and arquebus-wielding dwarven snipers. Many of Alkenstar’s citizenry also carry their own personal firearms, whether that be a simple dwarven clan pistol or a more powerful gun, and rarely let their weapons stray far from their sides.
It's 2 hours before sunset on a Fireday evening. For many people, this is the end of their workweek and the numerous restaurants, saloons, and gambling halls of Alkenstar’s entertainment districts are doing brisk business. This evening brings a special event to Alkenstar, one which many people are eager to enjoy: a traveling theater troupe has rented out the renowned Aldivur Company Theater House to perform a never-before-seen play by famous playwright Melsa Aldthistle. The play, advertised as The First Sin of Pharasma, promises the audience a “once-in-a-lifetime experience” that is “sure to go down in history!”
You each find yourselves seated together at the same table in the corner of the bar near the entrance, each taking advantage of the cheap food and drink while watching for potential opportunities to make some quick cash or land a job playing bodyguard for a noble whose sense of adventure outweighs their wisdom. Unfortunately neither of those show.
Zakzak chomps on a dry piece of bread. "What if we just go over by the show and see if anyone needs any help. Or maybe we can find a way in to see it!" He dips the bread in his thin soup to soften it up.
"Hmmm. Not a bad idea, Zak. Seein' that we couldn't afford tickets, maybe we should try sneakin' in. Or just stand outside like Doc suggested. It was billed as some great experience so it must be really interesting."
Zin takes a swig of her cheap ale.
"You guys know anything about that playwright Melsa Aldthistle?"
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Sliding your plates away you begin to make a plan to visit the show to see if you can earn a few extra coins helping out. The anticipatory murmurs of excitement echoing off the walls of the Powder Horn are suddenly silenced by a bloodcurdling scream. A man stumbles through the main door, clutching at a gushing neck wound. A gurgling gasp escapes his lips as he topples to the floor. Even as the man’s body collapses, a shambling horde of misshapen humanoids attempts to follow him through, accompanied by a fetid stench of blood and excrement. “What th—zombies?!” The cry comes from inside the bar as the patrons begin a panicked rush for the upper floor. As they rush for the possible safety of the upper story, the burly bartender leaps over the countertop, a heavy length of wood in her hands. “The doors!” she cries out. “Clobber those blighters and shut the door or we’re all doomed!”
──────────
BOLD: GO!:
──────────
➤ Booker
➤ Doc
➤ Zindarel
➤ Zakzak
Zombie (Red)
Zombie (Orange)
Zombie (Green)
Zombie (Blue)
Zombie (Pink)
Zombie (Purple)
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With my into the Fray ability, I automatically draw a melee weapon and a ranged weapon upon rolling int. So Dragon mouth pistol and War Razor
Then it says I get a free action to stride on my first turn.
So Jelly/Doc get into melee freely
First action fire at red, dragon mouth pistol scatter trait piercing and the green one will take one splash damage.
Second action, use War razor on red slashing
Third action, reload, which I can do as long as I'm holding at least one ranged weapon and I don't need a free hand.
Zakzak leaps down from his chair as the man stumbles into the room, bleeding to death. In a blink of an eye, he's drawn his pistol -- a ridiculous looking contraption of cobbled parts with a couple spoons poking out the front -- just as the zombies begin entering. With his leap, the goblin has cleared the table's edge, but he continues moving away. He fires on the middle of the pack, his cutlery ammunition spraying the field.
Having only been a looming hulk of silent, blackpowder equipped, muscle, the sudden roar of a battle cry from Booker booms across the tavern as he rushes forward to create an optimal angle.
The zombie in front of him doesn't seem to notice until he pulls the trigger on his scattergun with a crash of thunder.
Having tensed his muscles against the recoil, Booker snaps the muzzle forward at the zombie.
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Booker rushes in and fires a blast point blank into the zombie's chest. Small bits of shrapnel arc out into two other zombies as the large man shoves it back against the wall to open up some room. As he does so he slams the zombie into a chair, As it falls back the chair breaks impaling the zombies face.
Doc quickly draws her weapons, her pistol blasts into the zombies shoulder as bits of powder burn the zombie next to it as well as her own hand. As her war razor slashes across its arm a large chunk of loose flesh slops off onto the wall.
Zakzak's spoons fling into the doorway, hitting all three zombies at once, but missing the brains.
──────────
BOLD: GO!:
──────────
Booker
Doc
➤ Zindarel
Zakzak
Zombie (Red)
Zombie (Green)
Zombie (Blue)
Zombie (Pink)
Zombie (Purple)
"What in tarnation!?!”
Zin pushes her chair back and kicks the table over, sending pints of ale and plates of unfinished meals flying.
She grabs her gun and props herself at the tavern table for cover. She takes aim and shoots at one of the undead creatures stumbling through the door.
She reloads her mithril tree, taking cover from the table.
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Zindarel takes cover behind the table. Drawing forth her sniper rifle she takes a shot into the Zombie's leg. The zombies swarm in through the door around Doc and Booker. Their rotted fingers clawing at their clothes.
None of the zombies manage to grab hold, though a dull, thick fist slams into Booker's ribs.
──────────
BOLD: GO!:
──────────
➤ Booker
➤ Doc
➤ Zindarel │
➤ Zakzak
Zombie (Red)
Zombie (Green)
Zombie (Blue)
Zombie (Pink)
Zombie (Purple)
From behind the table, Zin fires another shot at a zombie.
She reloads her long gun, using the cover from the table.
She fires again.
The goblin growls as he switches his pistol between the various targets, but seeing both Booker and the Doc very close. He fires on the zombie in red rags. Then he performs a risky reload as he simply shoves another round into the pistol and then knives after assuming they will sufficiently tear the powder wad open.
Unfortunately, powder fails to fully ignite, leaving Zakzak with a mess in the barrel which he has to clear out.
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Zindarel quickly fires a pair of shots into the zombies neck and chest. It mindlessly groans as it continues to march on, while missing chunks of bone and flesh.
Zakzak loaks up the sharp steak knives and flinks a slew of them at the doorway. The first has three knives hit the red zombie in the head, killing its brain as his second shot kills the severely wounded green zombie and critically wounds numerous more. The slashing knives seem to be very effective against the zombies.
──────────
BOLD: GO!:
──────────
➤ Booker
➤ Doc
Zindarel │
Zakzak
Zombie (Blue)
Zombie (Pink)
Zombie (Purple)
Booker takes a step toward Doc and slams the stock of his scattergun towards it skull.
It connects with a sickening crunch.
He then body checks the zombie to his right, using his bulk to topple it over.
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Doc will try to crit fish on pink, see if he can get the deadly trait slash at the neck or across the temple using the war razor as he is in melee, he will slash at it slashing
slashing
slashing
If pink is dies, then he uses one of the actions to step up to purple, if that is the case, then ignore attack number 3.
Booker takes a step toward Doc and slams the stock of his scattergun towards it skull.
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Booker smashes the stock of his weapon into the zombies face, braining it before turning the rest of his weight into another of the zombie's shoving it to the ground.
Doc's wr razor slashes across the prone zombie's skull as it severs the top half of it's head from the body. Only one zombie remains as it lurches for a meal.
──────────
BOLD: GO!:
──────────
➤ Booker
➤ Doc
➤ Zindarel │
➤ Zakzak
Zombie (Blue)
Booker turns to face the final undead meat sack.
"Stupid necromancers..." He grumbles under his breathe before Spartan kicking the zombie to the ground.
After it lands prone, he smashes the stock of his gun, trying to pin it in place for another to finish it.
The goblin laughs as he sees the other zombies get cut apart by the flying knives. He points his pistol at the last one at near point blank range and fires, sending knives flying around the tavern again. The goblin gets a mad look in his eye, and then he jams the gun's barrel down onto a spare knife and tries to fire again. This time the gun just sputters.
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Booker and Doc easily dispatch the last skeleton as a war razor slices through the brain.
As the final zombie falls, the bartender dashes forward to drop the locking bar into place, essentially barricading the door closed. The sounds of fighting from the street can be heard through the thick wooden walls, and the door rattles for a few moments as the sounds of groans and scratching fingers can be heard testing the building’s defenses.
The bartender quickly addresses those left in the room. “Name’s Martelle. We oughta follow the rest up to the second floor and get a view of the street, see what in the Hell is going on out there.”
Booker
Doc
Zindarel
Zakzak
Zakzak laughs as he sees the last zombie fall. He points his gun at the non-moving corpses and shouts, "Blam! Blam!" He laughs again and says, "Just like that!"
The goblin turns back to look at the bartender and simply says, "Wait, what?" He clearly wasn't paying attention to her words.
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Alright, folks, we got to get to the second floor, unless Booker wants to take ten minutes first for me to heal him. I can only do this once per hour though, as doing it more often that that will be ineffective, and it will only hurt a little.
Booker wipes the blood from his gun stock and looks to the group. He sees the small goblin's excitement and takes stock of the battlefield himself.
"one, two, three, four, five, six" He mutters under his breathe as the thumb-hammer of his finger gun falls with each zombie.
After his counting, he turns to the group and nods to each before sitting down at a table and lifting a muscled arm to expose the wound in his side to Doc.
"Hit me, Doc." His distant stare focuses on Doc. "Please."
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With a little time to spare Doc takes a look at Booker's injuries as the group makes their way to the second level.
A wide, open area provides additional seating for patrons of the bar. A waist-high railing surrounds a ten-foot-by-tenfoot opening to the bar below, and each of the room’s walls sport a pair of large windows overlooking the street and alleys below.
The second floor of the Powder Horn is packed with worried patrons, most of whom are crowded around the northern windows overlooking the street. From here, it’s clear that zombies are shambling out of the Aldivur Company Theater House before spreading to the rest of the city. Zombies shamble about the town square and main road below. Across the street is a small market catering to the patrons of the district. Just west of the market is the home of the man who runs the playhouse, which also serves as a storage facility for the theater, and west of that lies the theater itself. On this side of the street, a 20-foot-wide alley separates the Powder Horn from an adjacent two-story building.
The bartender beckons you over to talk as you make it upstairs.
“So here’s the deal,” she begins. “You all clearly have more fight and experience in you than most of the folks out this way, you’re a bit more smartly armed, and who knows what to expect of the guard. We could wait things out, see what happens, but it’s not exactly like the number of zombies out there is shrinking. If we don’t put a stop to this now, the whole city could be overrun. So here’s what I’m proposing—you lot head to the theater house and see if you can’t figure out where all these zombies are coming from. Put a stop to them if you can or come back and let us know if you can’t. You put an end to this mess and you’ve got free drinks for life here at the Powder Horn. I’m pretty sure any of the rest of us that survive can probably scrape together a purse for you if the city doesn’t pay out a reward. Deal?”
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“Way I see it, you’ve got two paths forward. The first one is that you make a break for the house across the square. It’s owned by Aldivur, the theater’s operator, and is also used to store costumes and props from the theater. You should be able to lock it up from the inside, keep the zombies out while you look for anything useful. The other is maybe a bit trickier, but also safer.” Martelle gestures to the window along the west wall. “That clothesline is bolted in pretty good, and the Thuss’s are good folks. If you can shimmy across there without falling into the alley, they might be able to help you out some. Rickard is a gunsmith and is likely to have some extra ammo on hand, maybe even some weapons. If you fall off the line, you can still make a break for Aldivur’s house, and if you get in there, well, they’re closer to the theater than we are, so maybe they’ll have an idea on what your best next move is. Whaddaya think?”
Zakzak looks up Martelle. "You got more knives? Zombies no like them." He shows her his gun and how you can shoot cutlery out.
The goblin looks at the clothesline and tries to open up the window to test it. "Zakzak pretty nimble and light. Maybe clothesline a good way to go. But can't shoot zombies while on it."
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We cross the line, bolting will attract attention. Once someone gets across the other side and opens the window, I use my ladder token I bought, someone holds one end of the ladder, who makes it to the other side and one of us hold the other end of the ladder. The ladder will run horizontally across from window to window instead of vertically, making it easier to cross for the rest of us. The last person may have to cross the line though as there would be nobody to hold the ladder for them.
He holds up for breath. We then pull the ladder through with some help to our open window, we may need to take the ladder with us for future use.
Booker grunts a sound of agreement before looking around at the crowd.
"They can help with the ladder too."
He takes a peak out the window at the long way down. For good measure he plucks the clothesline, which gives a nice pitched twang.
"Zakzak can go first, and if we need ammo, I can whip up a quick batch for us."
Zin stares out the window at the horde of zombies staggering about in the streets.
"I'm purty good at being sneaky. Is that the third option?"
Zin moves to the other window and leans out to look at the clothesline that stretches from building to building. She bites her lip in dismay as she estimates the distance to the ground below.
"Yeahhh, no."
She says with a raised eyebrow.
"I get what you're sayin' 'bout that magic ladder, Doc. A safety net, of sorts.
I reckon that's our best bet. This ain't no 'ladies first' kinda thing either."
She puts her hands on her hips and shoots glances at Booker and Zak.
"Well? Which one o' you boys will be goin' first?"
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If the window is locked on the other side, I can cross, but I ain't getting in. Ah what the heck, he pulls out his dragon pistol to hit window
Then reloads the guns and puts it away. Now, since the window on the other side is probably broken, he activates his ladder token in puts it vertically from window to window, the ends probably stick out a little, he makes sure each side is at least a foot or two past where the window is, then cross.
once on the other side, he holds the ladder on that side for the people crossing.
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Zakzak watches Doc tightrope walk across the line. The little goblin's hand is grabbed quickly by Zin as it inches over to the rope to shake it while the human was in the middle of her crossing. Zakzak looks up sheepishly at Zin. "It was going to be funny..."
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Expanding the ladder out Doc and Booker help stabilize it as the pair drop it onto the windowsill on the other side. It clatters across the building nearly missing the mark but eventually finds stable footing. Doc takes the first steps as she crouches down to get out the window and slowly moves across the ladder.
After several tense minutes she makes about halfway as the window slides open. Rickard himself begins to beckon Doc over as he holds his hand out to help. "Careful now!" He’s a tall, balding man with an ample belly and a thick, curling moustache that hasn’t yet succumbed to the encroaching gray already claiming the fringe of hair around his pate. Rickard stands by to quietly assist the heroes as they make their way across the clothesline, extending a large and calloused hand to steady them as they pass through the window.
"No, Zakzak. I'm sure it was going to be funny. Not this time, though. Especially when it's so dangerous."
She says in all seriousness. She then leans down and whispers,
"Wait to get one of them later.".
She clicks her tongue and winks.
She stands back up and grabs Zak's collar, pulling him to the window. She pushes the reluctant goblin up into the window frame.
"Hurry up. It's your turn...
Ugh... C'mon. Quit squirmin'."
Zakzak nods and begins climbing out of the windows and dash across the ladder.
Booker eyeballs the ladder as he considers his mass. Turning to the elven gunslinger next to him.
"I think I should go last."