"Fine," Flynt says, "We have our own tasks to attend to but if you want to linger until we leave the district that is fine. We could use a proper guide."
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Flynt holsters his revolver and stares down the stranger, "What's in it for us?"
Going to be out of touch this weekend. Should be back by Monday at the latest.
"Someone after you?" Flynt asks bluntly at first, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he elaborated. "Someone bad enough that you'd waltz right up to a bunch of outsider thugs, 'bout to do bad things to some poor sap what picked the wrong mark?"
"Oi! You looking for trouble? Take a lesson from these punks before you do," Flynt growls at the approaching stranger, snapping the chamber of his revolver closed with a flick of his wrist.
Flynt remains at the ready, thumbing rounds into his revolver incase unwanted attention found them.
Jeremiah snorts as the muggers start fleeing but does not bother to try and intercept any of them.
"Damn," Flynt mutters as two hit the streets and look like they are about to bolt. He decides to let them, redoubling his efforts to tag the north most mugger.
ROUND 1
Flynt gets some distance on the situation instead of clambering up to the roof and opens fire on the unengaged attackers.
ROUND 2
My own internet is very limited right now, doing my best.
Flynt scowls and quietly rests his hand on the butt of his revolver. Magic was thick enough to cut with a knife here. Made his chest itch, "How many?"
"Give me a minute," Flynt says pulling a knife and beginning to skin the creature. His strokes are quick and sure.
Jeremiah whips his revolver around at the hulking mass of scales and fangs. "I could use a new belt," he notes to himself and opens fire with blinding speed.
Whipping the chamber of his firearm open, Flynt pried malformed cartridge from his weapon even as he ducked back from the erstwhile serpent.
Flynt whips around and fires on the snake closest to him, fanning the hammer of his weapon. The first shot strikes home the with a flash, the second stays in the gun. "Damn..."
Flynt busies himself with lighting another cigar, likely to hide a wry grin at the praise. It would not make do for a man who lived by the gun to be a poor shot with one.
Flynt gives the faeries a bow and reloads his weapon before returning it to the holster. He was not worried about them reproducing his revolver as he doubted they had access to the machined parts required for an instrument like it.
Flynt holsters his weapon and gauges the distance between him and Elise, pacing back and forth for a moment. He knew the little wingy freaks were up to something but just what was beyond his immediate ken. He breathed the heady jungle air in and out focusing on that distant coin until the features stood out to him in stark relief. The buzzing of nearby insects slowed perceptibly to his ears and the movements of those around his became graceful caricatures of reality. He drew, the speed at which the gun came to level was painfully slow to his eye but the iron sights soon leveled and he began to squeeze the trigger. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the hovering rock even as Al moved to intercept magic with magic. He whipped around, dancing in a semi-circle out of the way regardless and moving from his previously clear firing lane to one that shot through thick underbrush and leaves, half-obscuring Elise and the coin. It might have made the shot almost impossible for anyone else, but not for Flynt. The coin was fixed in his mind like a beacon. He was counting on that brush to save his bullet from direct influence. Duster still fanning out around him as he watched Elise react to the softening stone, Flynt felt the stone in his chest throb almost like the beat of his absent heart. He finished squeezing the trigger and the report was indeed like thunder in the noisy jungle.
"Do we have an accord, little ones?" Flynt calls out to the sprites holding his weapon for them to see as his plucks all but one bullet from the cylinder. He did not dignify Elise's jab with a response.
"I won't miss unless they blind me," Flynt says, idly rubbing the scar tissue over what should have been his heart. If there were still an organ to beat in his his chest, it would likely be hammering. Flynt drew his Cairnminer and checked the chamber and the barrel, looking for minor imperfections in the metal that might throw off his aim by otherwise negligible amounts. Guns were never for the faint of heart and Flynt knew all too well what could happen if he failed here. The trick was not to fail.
"Hundred paces?" Flynt says pulling his duster open to reveal his holstered weapon, "Too easy, anyone got a mirror?"
Jeremiah cocks an eyebrow, "I could try some trick shooting. Back home the boys and I used to bet on who could pull off the most ostentatious shot with their side arm. That was a couple of years ago now."
"How rude," Flynt notes at the accusations, idly flicking a cigar butt into the nearby brush.
Flynt hangs back, capricious sprites and gun powder did not mix well in his experience.
Flynt lights yet another cigar from his seemingly endless supply and the discussion rages. Fishing his cleaning kit out of his pack, he patiently breaks his revolver down into separate parts and sets about cleaning and oiling them. It had an air of ritual about it, almost as much as watching a holy man's morning prayers.
"There are simple enough disguises we can affect, and strategies for traveling to avoid most prying eyes. I'm a fair hand in the wilds as long as we've got someone along to help me learn about local dangers and give us a heading. Might add some time to the trip."
Alright, got Flynt updated. He got a +1 to Con so he got a pretty good boost to HP this level and I picked up Rapid Shot for an extra attack a round. Deadly Aim got a boost too. Also, according to my research, there is not really a Craft (Firearms) skill. That is all handled by the Gunsmithing feat, do you mind if I reallocate those skill points elsewhere?
Flynt's eyes narrowed as soon as blood was mentioned in conjunction to magic. Too often the two seemed to be linked in a very literal way. His chest hurt slightly at the thought and he idly rubbed his shirt over the scar hidden there. Since leaving the Wastes he had seen both wonders and terrors wrought by excessive magic, limited only by the ambitions of its wielders. No doubt this scrying would not go well for the girl in question. "I'm a decent hand at tracking and this wouldn't be our first manhunt, Elise," He said idly, trying to mask his sudden interest in the conversation and likely failing miserably.
Flynt makes a point to meet the man's eyes and tip his hat. The tavern was interesting but he did not much like the thought of people sleeping above him on the ceiling. "I'll take some dodo. It's a bird right? Strictly non-sentient?"
Flynt takes up a position near Elise's back but facing mostly away from the innkeeper so he can watch the others in the room, mostly looking for people that seemed too interested in them. Certainly there would be interest in newcomers, but while Elise dealt with the talking, he would try to peg anyone paying too much attention to their belongings. He had a nice balance of talents with the melee gifted maiden.
"A bath sounds good," Flynt says, "A solid meal too." While he was not a fan of elven cooking, he held out hope that the eldred were different enough to have a better palate.
"I still say we should blow the damned thing," Flynt mutters, "Otherwise, I'd like to get to civilization again."
"Could bust it up," Flynt says, hefting his extra keg of black powder. The unstable but effective explosive had already served them quite well.
"You lot are from off-world?" He says, slightly surprised by the revelation but rapidly warming up to the odd trio.
"I did," Flynt says pulling a box of (dry) matches out of his pocket. "How far is this trading post?" He was not as bad off as some of the others but the constant danger had left him feeling rather drained.
Annoyed by the hulking giant blocking his firing lane, Flynt moves to the side to get a clear shot.
"Witchy nonsense," Flynt grumbles, pulling back the hammer on his revolver and firing on the final minion again, looking to crush the last of them while his friends keep the big bad busy.
Flynt, trusting Elise to take the front, focuses on thinning the minions' ranks some more.
Flynt levels his weapon and fires upon one of the minions to his left.
Flynt, never one to put up with distractions, levels his gun on the closest elemental and opens fire.
"Bugger it," Flynt growls, this whole thing did not sit well with him. Random magical traps sitting around in the wild? It was damned irresponsible, "Let's kill it and let the little one have the bounty."
"Simmer down, Cal, ain't polite to-" Flynt starts but pauses when he notices the spirit reaching toward Amelia. "Hey! Hey! Get away from her," He shouts at the creature, flicking a cigar butt at the where the being's chest should be as his hand hovers over the butt of his revolver.
"I can tell you something's got a hold of the Elds in there. The gob, kobold, and ape are faking it for some reason."
"I wouldn't say they're enjoying anything," Flynt says, squinting at the group.
"I can think of two or three fates worse than giants, lady," Flynt says, preparing his revolver for the next location.
"To the contrary, going back mean we learn how to operate a potentially valuable piece of equipment. Besides, I would rather travel in a friendly territory than one where the locals are likely to try a murder us on sight," Flynt offers. "If we can figure out the device's operation, we should."
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