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I'm going to have to drop this game, folks. I apologize. A change in my work schedule has me struggling to find time to post. I'm constantly playing catch up and my games have started feeling like chores rather than fun. I've decided to cut the number of games I'm in back to a more manageable number. I've really enjoyed gaming with you all. Maybe if life mellows out I'll be able to jump back in again. Thanks for the fun. :) GM, will you please move Mal to inactive in the Info tab?
Sorry for the lack of posting. Recovering from an injury that has me on some pretty potent painkillers. Writing is difficult.
"The only things that belonged to him were some weapons and armor that we confiscated, and some small coin. Nothing special."
Mal nods. "Go on. I'll take care of him."
"I think we shouldn't risk losing this rock, and I got a prisoner to babysit. If you folks want to take a look, go for it. I'll stay out here and keep watch."
When you edit the campaign there's check boxes that you can use to mark characters Active, Inactive or NPC. My bet is the error has something to do with that.
Mal snapped the newly-fixed set of manacles on the hobgoblin and fettered his legs with a short length of rope. "You got no one to blame for this but yourself. You start cooperating and things will get easier for you."
It looks like all of us have been moved to the "previous characters" section. What's up with that?
"That's the plan. Don't make me regret my decision."
"Three reasons. First, he might still have information we might need if we're going to deal with this thing. Second, he still hasn't done anything punishable by death. At least not according to Abadar's Laws. If I'm gonna execute someone, I prefer there be a trial first." "Third, I'm supposed to be one of the good guys. I gotta live by the rules I want others to follow." "He might be evil, but that don't mean he always will be."
Mal sighed and sat up, quickly loading a new round into his smoking pistol. "I had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy." Moving next to the downed Hobgoblin, he wrestled with his conscience for a moment, then laid his hand on the wound and let Abadar's mercy flow through him.
Sonofa!" Mal curses as he hits the ground protecting his head and letting the worst of the blast wash over him.
Rolling to his back he drew down on the hobgoblin, sure that the creature was going to take the opportunity to go for the stone and run. "Don't even think it, Hob."
Mal shrugs. 'Alright. Give it to him."
Mal shrugs. "Bein' an evil bastard ain't actually against the law. I don't think he's done anything he could be put on trial for. Don't like it, but we might as well send him back home."
"Abadar doesn't tend to tell me wrong about these sorts of things." Mal says with a shrug.
"If you think I give a single damn about what your job is, you've got another thing coming. Right now your job is to sit there and try to be as helpful as you can so I don't decide to shoot you on principle. That rock is evil, and so are you, and as far as I'm concerned that's a good reason to make sure you never get your hands on it." "Now what the hell is it?"
"That might well be true, but some magic ain't exactly conducive to peace and love, you know? Also, regardless of if magic isn't good or bad, that rock is full blown dag-nasty Evil. Like the kind that comes bleeding off demons and priests of Asmodeus. I don't know what it's for, but it ain't nothin' good."
"That stone ain't no good at all." Mal says, suddenly very concerned. "Whatever it is, the world would be a lot better off if it were destroyed."
Mal knew enough about magic to have a rough idea when someone was seeing something that he just couldn't, and he knew that not everyone could see the same sorts of invisible auras. He whispered a prayer to Abadar and watched Calon and the gemstone he held, his eyes faintly flickering with light colors around his pupils.
Mal picks up the manacles and immediately starts checking the damage and testing the hinges. Picking up one of the tools from the tool kit he stuck it into the locking mechanism and realigned something.
Something clicks into place. Mal smiles.
"What I want to know is why the hell it's all the way out here at all." Mal says with a shake of his head. "Water Wraiths are wetlands creatures, like crocodiles."
"That's not going to happen. How about you just lead us there and then we decide how you can best help?"
True to his word, Mal puts a hand on the hobgoblin and staunches the wounds.
"He's tellin' the truth and he'll keep his word. On the other hand, he ain't exactly a good samaritan." Mal said to the others, still keeping his gun trained.
The sound of the hammer of Mal's pistol being locked back hung in the air. He was aiming it right at the Hobgoblin's face. "Your hand moves and so does mine." he says ominously.
"Calon, search 'im. If he's being straight with us, I'll heal 'im myself."
"Yeah. It ain't much though. Hope it will do."
"What the hell is that doing here?" Mal says, reloading and stepping back a pace.
"Holy!" Mal curses, jumping back in surprise and snapping off a shot and the creature.
Stepping in front of his wounded allies, Mal reloaded and fired again.
"Bang, you little bastards." Mal mutters to himself as he aims and fires.
"What the-" Mal says, pistol in hand before he realizes he'd drawn it.
Mal shakes his head and waits for his hands to stop shaking. "Thanks." Why am I doing this again? I'm going to get myself killed.
Got it. Thanks.
Mal is about to say something, but slips on the rocks...
I didn't realize I needed to make the choice. Repairing it from Broken will only take an hour. The crafting rules confuse the hell out of me, so I'm not really sure how long upgrading it will take.
Fixing a Broken firearm is actually free for me with the Gunsmithing feat. Our reward money went into making it Masterwork.
"Brigands? That's a subject I'm more familiar with than undead. How can I help?"
"Welcome back. Something going on?"
Ok. I'll masterwork it later when I have some spare cash. Not sure how long it's been. I'll join the rest of the group after I get the work done. Just tell me when.
How long will it take to repair and upgrade my pistol?
"Oh well. I was going to see what I could do to clean it up and repair the damage the usual way. I should probably get to that. I'll catch up with you folks later. If you need me for anything, you know where to find me."
Mal had been up since sunrise as well, handing the elf a steaming mug of spiced milk and brandy when he answered the door. "Nope. I'm an early riser. Breakfast is almost ready. Come in, have a seat." The small house was clean but rather cluttered. At the table sat an attractive woman in a nightshift and robe. She stared blankly out into space, an untouched glass in front of her. "This is Hope. She doesn't talk much, so don't take it personal."
"You know, that would be real handy. It's been neglected for years. I was worried I'd have to machine new parts. Some magic might save me a lot of time. I have to get home to my wife, but if you come by tomorrow morning, I can trade you a good breakfast for your spells."
Mal cracks open a cartridge, spilling black powder over the corpses. Using a tinder twig to light a narrow cigar, he then flicked it onto the pile. It flared up with an impressive flash and the immediate cloying smell of burning meat. Backing away he sighed and took a drag on his cigar. "We should stick around until these bodies burn down, just to be sure."
"Smart." Mal says, immediately getting to the job of piling them together for burning.
Mal pushes through the fog, listening for sounds of combat, trying to close the distance as he reloads.
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