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"Well it's all too unwise to get involved in a scrapyard civil war, but I'd rather not pick lead out my hide after going to the wall.", Dunn shrugs. "And besides, it helps to have friends in all places." He gestures to his gun. "I'll need some time to fix this danged contraption, though."
Nodding as he sees the haul disappear in the bag, Dunn gives Narl and his grievous wounds a glance. "I've got something for that when we get a moment to breathe. Leave the potions for now, friend.", he relays as he turns towards the burned, yellowish shrubs surrounding the front of the bank. He raises his hand at the earth, and the yellowish shrubs begin to spring to life and thicken, as if alive. "Now, we run!", he shouts, as he runs to catch up with the others at the rear exit.
Moving to the secured lock, Dunn glances at the others. "I need a minute for that. Cover my back for a bit?", he adds, reaching for his pocket. Waving his hand in the air, he reaches towards the lock and takes out a set of worn, metallic pins and tools.
My curious player brain wants loot. My wary, criminal character wants to go away, BUT. I'll only say that I have a decent spell for if we get tracked near any terrain that has any plants.
Looking at the battered sidearm in his arm, Dunn ponders for a moment, reaching into his pocket for another cartridge, then notices the damage to his gun. Choosing not to push the tides of fate further, he braces himself and swings the gun wildly in front of him, hopes of a frantic defence to distract the construct.
Can't believe they snuck on me., the man notes to himself. Angrily shaking the pistol, Dunn quickly reaches into his pocket to load in a new cartridge. Pointing the gun at the last clockwork, he pulls the trigger.
Taking a deft step to the side of the elf, Dunn raises the pistol point blank at the construct's torso, and pulls the trigger. The worn gun, clearly unhappy at being jostled in a firefight, lets out a blurt of smoke and lead that cracks into a smoky cloud. "Piece of slag! Ma'am, we're here for their money, not your life!", the man adds over the loud clanging.
Ah, meant my grappled penalty to Dex, which was what I included so we're golden! Also, hey Thraag, welcome about our band of misfits and scoundrels!
"Get off me, you slag-rag!", Dunn swears, pulling his aching arm away from the bot.
Dunn mutters to himself, silently cursing himself for letting the automatons sneak up on him, and the letter opener to draw a gun on him. "I already did.", he retorts, as he gives a look at dwarf's head over the desk. The tube in his hand raises, as a blast of lead flies towards the dwarf, despite her cover. Rolls/OoC: 5ft Step, Move to Study, Standard to shoot. Should still be in Touch AC range.
Ah! I might've forgotten that we had a map! I've gone and moved Dunn, he's mostly bringing in the rear and keeping an eye on the outside.
"You've got a point, sir.", Dunn nods at Narl, before starting to move towards the bank. As he enters, he takes a step to the side and keeps an eye out, nodding quietly at the others. "Let's keep it quiet."
"Any chance you're lookin' to share that plan" he quickly asks Dunn. Dunn slowly nods towards the planters. "I know a thing or two about the plants. If the whispersheets got it right, I can bring some life in those wilted planters, have them latch onto the tins." He adjusts his hat. "Slow them long enough while we exit round the back."
"It's a little early, but a silver tongue might do it. Tell you what, here's the keys, Narl, you've got the gift of gab.", Dunn replies, dressed in a large duster. The hat on his head, changing the man's face ever so imperceivably, has led him to have a parchment case on his right flank. "I s'pose then they'd pose a problem of us getting out, or getting flanked." His eyes cast a long glance at the withered, half baked plants in the planters. Ghorus, it might be time for your vengeance... "Wizard winds withstanding, I reckon I got a plan for them.", he adds, before nodding. "We've got the keys, we're fresh faces - we walk in the front, take a look. The tin-men ain't the biggest problem, I'd say." Rolls:
Both untrained Spells Prepared: 0th - Enhanced Diplomacy, Spark, Stabilise, 1st - Longstrider, Entangle
Just dropping in - I'm happy to give it a wait or push forward. I've not been as active on the Discussion side as I should've been, but I'm standing by! Yee to the haw!
Giving the ratfolk a glance, the man shakes his head as he seems to be lost in thought, rather than scoping the situation out. "Hate to get philosophical, sir, but that just ain't how nature should be. Vermin take away resources, swarm, and cause disturbances to the lives and health of other life around 'em." He nods at the assessment of the tiny gunner, then adds, "Loveless and Mugland much more fit the definition, much as you or I may be called scavengers." Putting on his cap, he saunters out into the shadows, leaning absent-mindedly near a corner to wait for an employee to leave. Dice/OoC:
"Much obliged. Not much use walking around with a wanted face, after all.", Dunn replies as he folds his own hat under his coat and takes a long look at the new one. "Your artistic types are held on a posse needing a matching outfit, but that's for more overt misbehaviour. 'sides, let's give this a run before we hitch ourselves together."
"I'd wager we split up today, cover more ground that way. My face ain't the most welcome there, and I'd rather not risk this here hat playing up today. I can cast some eyes on the gold, but I wouldn't mind a second pair of eyes.", he nods. "We might even be lucky to find someone officious looking and I might help myself to their keys. For that, though, I suppose someone of the more silver-tongued persuasion might get a little more of what we're planning." He clears his throat and opens a screamsheet. "I'll see what gifts of the wastes we can do, and if you catch a bullet, I'll try and make sure you don't go feeding Ghorus' children yet." Pouring himself a shot of whiskey, he cracks open the Whispersheet, kicks back in the chair and begins reading with focus.
Rolls: Also forgot my perception. EDIT: Excellent start of the rolls for this game.
All good GM! Some games pick up steam as they go along, and I feel it might be a little more difficult than the usual to have people find out their voices with the idea of subterfuge. EDIT: The slides and whispersheets seem to require access. I've sent a request for access, but I've made that mistake with google sheets way too often myself ^^.
I'm happy to go and rob a bank! I think it's fully natural that the outlaw gunslingers are less verbose at the start. Here's hoping we don't Magnificent Seven before character development happens!
"Well, Ms. Dunsmith.", Dunn mentions a moment later, with a hint of anticipation in his voice. "I reckon you've got yourself a crew. Now, I suppose we oughta drink on it, and seeing as how we're risking our hides..." He looks around the table, nodding at the crew - all packing at least a pistol, and noone looking green - except some parts of the mutant. "So what's our play?"
With a wry smirk, Dunn nods slowly at the others around the table. "Well, Ms. Dunsmith. I find that gold, too, like water, must flow like a river in this town. If it stays stagnant for too long, it grows foetid and rank, and diseases and maladies of the body and soul begin to grow around it< instead of nourishing life and soul." He looks around from under his hat, rather unusually still worn inside."Ain't one for unnecessary bloodshed either, sirs and madam. And besides, I'm fairly sure Asmodeus himself would rather take the side of Muglan and his hoarding heart - it pays us to be kinder."
A small smile crawls on Dunn's face as he looks up towards the vaudeville play. The shootouts in the Ferrous Quarter were rarely as dramatic, nor the gunners as courteous. He is entertained, nonetheless, as he nods at Foebe. Clad in a thick duster, with a large, roughly-crafted pistol at his belt, Dunn glances at the others as he slams back a shot of whiskey, and pulls down his hat once again. The scent of dust, herbs and work emanates from the man. Giving a gruff nod at both the elf and the hooded man, he clears his throat. "Folk need silver like they need water in this place, Ms. Dunsmith. Mugland's a cruel, vindictive and duplicitous man. Ain't much of a loss if his ambitions get a shove down the river." He takes off his hat. "I'm Dunn Brackern. Sure, I might've, hm.", he pauses before an easy smile rests on his face, "shared in the wealth of some people without their awareness, my calling is to patch up holes in folk and keep them living, not feed the soil with them. I had my name dragged in the mud, and to clean that I need the glisten of silver to embellish it."
Great! Looking forward to playing with all of you!
Alias made, and thank you very much for the selection, GM Violant! I'd be perfectly fine with no magic, that said, I believe the Witch's opinion should be the most heeded one here - as a gun-toting, druidic herbalism-espousing Nature Fang pickpocket, the sole thing I lose is the 1st level and 0th level spells. |
