Maccoy's page

"That's a very good idea, actually. It has my vote. Final question - has anyone ever seen the, uh, djinn? Is it... fleshy, or does it seem more mechanical in nature?" Roach leans over to Maccoy. "Sounds like a repair cycle to me - the doors open as the power is turned off for automated maintenance, and adventureres then run into the repair robots," he mutters.

"Robots or spirits, we've got to deal with them either way. Can't let this sort of thing stand."

"If you don't mind my asking, what exactly is this Tower of Evil, and anything an enterprising group of explorers ought to know about this djinn?"

"Darling, if this place's a death cult, we've got bigger things to be worrying about than who they decide to sacrifice. Any case, I'll take you up on that bet. I'll take adventurer, verily, claymore and maiden." With that, Maccoy ties up his horse and walks to the inn, a wide grin on his face.

Maccoy glances at the guard as he passes by.

Spot (also, does X-Ray Vision reveal anything else?) 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19

"We're just traveling through, and we would like to sleep with a roof over our heads for one more night. Yes, we would like to come in, if you're willing."

Time for Diplomacy? 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"I say we stay at the village for the night." Macoy smiles. "It feels good to be doing this again. You know, traveling the countryside, righting wrongs, occasionally causing them. Yes, I haven't done this for far too long."

"Can't blame you for that." Maccoy draws his pistol and continues to scan the forest for any movement.

Spot: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17

"Supply, mostly. Nu Ork's a big place, and it's fulla hardcases who like a good scrap. And, most importantly, said hardcases are mostly muties."

"That, and half of them could probably bounce a bullet off their skulls."

"Well, been lot of folks stirred up lately. Lotta talk about what the Wrecker folks been doing out west. Also got some folks sayin' there's an outbreak of Romero down south. Them folks from Holy Oak," He jabs a finger over at the Ren Faire refugees in the corner. "Are 'sposedly on their way to talk to OMNUS about some aid."

"Well, I wish them the best of luck then. They're going to need it."

Maccoy take another swig of whiskey. "No need to worry too much about spiders. As long as they don't sneak up on us, we'll be able to deal with them just fine." Maccoy pauses for a moment. "Say, would you happen to know how thick those spider's skins are?"

Let's hope they're think enough I won't see through them with x-ray vision. Knowledge(Earth and Life Science), what do I know about spiders in these parts? 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Mutant Monkey wrote:

Gimmie your actions

Beer.

Whiskey.

"Road. I've never been a fan of boats. Besides, that way we won't have to pay for transport."

I'm assuming Maccoy also has a horse, even if he is horrible at riding one. (+0 Ride modifier)

"But what about the people living here?! Surely in some long-forgotten circuit of yours you have an inkling of compassion for what the Wreckers would do to your citizens!"

Maccoy also lets himself be tagged.

"Most sensible thing you've said all day."

"Don't worry, it's just banter. Noi harm in that." Maccoy takes a sip before leaning close to Lonnie and whispering. "That, and the kid's a damn psychopath."

"Kid, I got into this business to help people. Can't just let a whole village die out, after all. Besides, this town's getting a bit too comfortable for my liking. I'll be leaving with you all, if you don't mind. Now if you excuse me, I have to go tell Kyle to watch the place while I'm gone."

With that, Maccoy heads back to the inn to bid this town a fond farewell.

"Don't get the reference huh?" Germain says looking at at McCoy's blank look, "guess you don't have any pre war movies. Trust me it was funny."

"What? Oh, never seen any of that sort of stuff. I've just shot too many people in my time. Seen too many friends get shot too. Still, I miss those days some times."

"Now, I just do this to help people..." Maccoy trails off as Germain continues, and he simply stares at her for several seconds once she stops talking, an uncomfortable silence filling the air. "I better put this back up." He suddenly takes the textbook back and carefully places it back on his shelf.

"No, I don't have an Autodoc. You want an Autodoc, you go two doors that way. You want a doctor that won't rip your arm off if it has a malfunction, you come to me."

"Yeah, I have a scalpel. It's in with the rest of my supplies.", he says as he sets his black bag on the desk. "Text books? Yeah, I have a textbook." Maccoy sighs wistfully as he walks over to the cabinet. He opens it and takes a book from the top shelf with much reverence. "This book was my father's. It was his father's book before then. And one day, should I ever father a child, it will be their book."

"Well then, follow me. See you all tomorrow!" He waves goodbye to the other customers before walking out. "Now, my office ain't much, but it's better than those autodocs OMNUS "donated". Well, here we are." Maccoy opens the door, revealing a relatively clean room. The main fixture is a large table in the center of the room, a few faded bloodstains on it, although there is a desk and a few cabinets tucked away into the corner, and a door in the back.

I'll just leave any further description to someone who knows what a post-apocalyptic doctor's office looks like.

A look of pure innocence slides onto Germain's face like a mask.

Bluff: 1d20+13

"Why Coca," she says, her eyelashes flashing like sabers, "whatever do you mean?"

"Yeah, what do you mean? I can't understand a word you're saying."

Germain pulls out her knife.

"Hey now, no reason to be taking that out. Just have to put some lotion on him, and the swelling should go down in a few hours." Maccoy pops the lid off of the jar and holds it out to him. "Think you can get it on yourself, or do you need some help?"

Maccoy sighs and shakes his head. "I swear, Meredith does this one more time and I'm putting a sign up."

He turns back and yells at the barkeep. "Hey, you still got some of that lotion back there? We need to get the swelling down before it gets any worse."

Maccoy sets down his drink and heads over to the newcomer. "Damn. How did that happen?"

Knowledge(Earth and Life Science), how did it happen, and how do I treat it? 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23

"Da I appreciate dis i bredren, how would the i gaan fe bed payin'?" Sherman asks as he fishes in his belt pouch for some coins for the bar bill and to pay the doctor.

"Oh, keep your money. Call this my good deed for the day."

"Maccoy you ready for another?"

"One second, I need to take a look at his arm." Maccoy picks up the bag sitting next to him, sets it on the bar and opens it. He pulls out a length of gauze before turning back to Sherman. "Now, if you'll let me take a look at your arm it should be fixed up in no time."

Treat Injury: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (11) + 15 = 26

I should have specified, Germain is after the pure blood NPC in the corner not the cool PC at the bar, she's on a diabolical mission.

EDIT: Maccoy takes a drink, wondering why that little girl is going to talk to the town drunk.

"We are jus passin' drough," Sherman drawls out in his thick accent, his three good arms waving about to indicate a vague direction over Yonder.

He starts to unfasten the Cannabis plant from the saddle on his back and makes his introductions, "Da name is Sherman and dis is breden Marley," he points a stubby finger at the plant with the second name before wiping the palm of his hand on his pants and offering it to the stranger.

"Pleasure to meet ya, Sherman. Call me Maccoy." He takes another sip of his drink.

"Say, Sherman, any particular reason you're holding your arm like that?" He gestures at Sherman's bad arm.

Roach rolls up to he bar. "How much for one of those?", he asks the guy siting there.

The man raises his glass when the group enters the bar. "'Bout a credit a drink. So, what are you folks doing in this neck of the woods?"

Good. I should be done with my equipment now. (Well, unless the fact that HVCS stuff is at 10% off doesn't mean that I could get a vial of healing goo for 90NC, which is equivalent to .9gp. If I'm wrong, I'll just take that off and add back 90NC)

Davi The Eccentric wrote:

So, how much would some decent light armor cost? Also, can I get a surgery kit or will I have to make due with a bowie knife and hope?

EDIT: Oh, is X-Ray Vision Superman-style, or more realistic?

Hmmm, what type of light armor? Leather? Chain?

The HVCS has high-tech surgery stuff.

X-ray is more realistic.

For now, let's say leather.

What sort of high-tech stuff? Besides, all I'm really asking for is enough forceps/scalpels/whatever it is surgeons use to not get -4 if I need to do surgery.

Can I at least perceive stuff x-ray vision would see through? I mean, other than running into it.

Well, a severe dislike of the HVCS would certainly be appropriate. I'll have to think about it some more.

Also, HP rolls: 8+1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 61d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 31d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 81d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

EDIT: Also, how much money/equipment would I start with?

Thus, another country doctor is born.