I'm sure no one is still reading this, but I miss this game. :(
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HEARTBREAK. :( This has been without a doubt one of the best games I've played. I think I speak for all of us in saying that if things free up and you want to get back into it, that we'll be on board. <3
The breastplate is totally not Mal's style. I'd gladly take the ring for her, but I'm sure others could probably use it more. She's pretty worthless in melee, and tries to avoid it. Though with that said, the image of Ben offering her a ring and how that would play out does tickle me quite a bit.
Pleased to see the giant orc distracted by Gizmo and not advancing on herself and the Doc, Mallory takes more careful aim this time, and fires a shot right into the creature.
Doc expects full credit for not commenting on Mallory having half a mind. :o) To be fair, she's only sober like 30% of the time, so half might be generous. :P
Mal moves around the carcass just in time to see the Orc's frame shoot up above it and loom over them. Without even pausing for a snappy remark, she lifts her pistol and fires a shot. Though it goes wide by a mile, she barely notices, already stuffing another cartridge into the gun. "Got a plan, Doc? 'Cause I got half a mind to grab you an' start runnin'."
As the Doc moves past Mallory and around the dinosaur, she stares at him, expecting some kind of signal to tell her what he sees. Instead, he seems to be staring intently at whatever is on the other side. With every bone in her body telling her to go the other way, Mallory grumbles, pulls her hat lower over her head, and follows in the Doc's footsteps, thinking that he at least hadn't set off any explosions.
Speaking of other systems, I meant to post today but got swallowed up by an in-person Numenera game. I'll get one up in the morning!
Seeing the explosion go off in front of her, Mallory swears quietly. "Explosives? Hangman take these damned cowards." Sliding her violin back into her pack, she draws her gun instead, moving to the side, but not any closer to the dinosaur carcass.
I just realised that we just passed the 1 year mark! Congrats, everyone, and thanks so much for what continues to be an amazing game.
"Oh for..." Mallory exclaims in quiet exasperation. "Damned brutes can't even be bothered..." She pulls out her gun, and nods to Loveless. "I ain't sayin' this won't be fun, but a little effort woulda been nice." 'Wait, girl.' She tells herself. 'It could still be a trap. He could be a scout, or bait. Don't be careless.' Holstering her gun with a grumble, she instead pulls out her violin. "Cover me in case this don't work." She mutters. Beginning to move closer to the Triceratops, she begins playing a haunting melody for it. The only talk of religions she'd heard lately felt like a lifetime ago, with the priest on the train. She knew she didn't have his way with words, but tried for a song that he'd be able to preach over, were he still with them.
Doh. For some reason even though it clearly says "Caravan", I kept thinking "Wagon" or "Train".
Pleased to find herself leaving Dry City, Mallory's mood does lighten a bit on the train, though still only so far as that she isn't wanting to shoot her fellow passengers. She also finds herself relieved that Gulch isn't coming with them, but curious about his remaining work in Dry City. 'Snake'll probably twist it to make his own self in charge.' she thinks darkly. Mallory's reception to Lucy is somewhat cold at first, but since McCady is too wrapped up in his own guilt to pay her much mind, Mallory feels somewhat obligated to lighten up a bit. Besides, the girl serves as a good distraction from her own thoughts. Reaching the green certainly helps, too. Mallory can't recall the last time she saw such hills and pastures. Everything has just been sand and desert for so long. By the time they stop, Mallory has explained a lot about the Shooter's Religion, gotten her hair braided, and livened up quite a bit. When they jump out to take a look at what's up ahead, Mal goes so far as to toss a grin and wink at the girl, "Keep an eye on things here, yeah?" Mallory comes to the same conclusion that Jake does, but still cocks an eyebrow at him. "Does seem like spot for an ambush," she agrees. At the two men's suggestion of going up above, Mal nods, surprised to find that she trusts Ben to keep an eye on Jake. Besides, she wasn't much for climbing, and there was no need for them to know that. 'Always hiding weaknesses, eh, girl?' she thinks to herself. "Alright." She agrees. "Go on up, I'll keep an eye down here." Drawing her gun, Mallory begins to advance towards the creature in the road, keeping her eyes open for anything suspicious.
To say that Mallory spent the entire time drunk might be an understatement. Ridding the world of some evil should have felt good, and liberating, but instead it just felt like a weight on her, knowing that such things had been there in the first place. When she closed her eyes, she still saw Scalpin' Jack. She saw people she had known - friends, lovers, enemies - remove their faces like some of those monsters under the town. The only way she could sleep was to completely dull her senses. "Ain't nothin' good ever comes from doin' the right thing." she kept muttering to herself. Little had been seen of her doing the few days waiting for the caravan - often she'd go down to the bar just long enough to get another bottle. She didn't even try for any 'companionship' during the time, possibly afraid that they might prove to be duplicate people as well. Instead, she closed herself off completely, and waiting for the caravan that would take her away from this hell, and the numerous bodies that she had left in it.
Mal shrugs. "Weren't just stories. Might well be more tunnels we didn't venture through. Reckon it could be likely they go elsewheres. You're more'n welcome to go lookin', boy. Ain't my concern what the townsfolk do next." With a curt nod, she turns and begins to walk away.
I was listening to a Podcast yesterday where they were talking about how strange it is that D&D / PF use a d20, which has a wide range of results, but it always comes down to success or failure, and rarely to degrees at which either happens.
Mallory manages to stop herself before responding to 'over my dead body' with a threat that would result in either one of their death's or her own incarceration. When Bluefeather calms down, however, Mal nods in agreement, moving her hand from near her holster up to the bar. "Better to die doin' somethin' than at the hands of a mob, s'all I was sayin'." She takes another drink. "Ain't been to Tin Star before, can't say how it'll work out for 'em, but cain't be worse'n this. S'pecially if he's got family there." "Reckon the Mayor will see to it we get on the rails just fine. After all..." With a sly smile and a load of sarcasm in her voice, she tosses a wink at Ben. "...it ain't every day the 'great' Ben Dalton saves yer town."
"Might be best they leave when we do." Mal replies, her eyes narrowing. "I ain't a-one to preach. Whole lotta pine boxes bein' filled up on account'a me. But my understandin' is that the primary job of a Sheriff is to protect people." She clears her throat. "Now I ain't gonna speak to your predecessor, lettin' this all happen so close an' all." She stands up from the bar, looking at the Deputy with challenge in her eyes, "But you really mean to say that after we've uncovered a plot with shapeshiftin' cultists, wearing your faces all over town, you can't protect one fool man from his ordinary neighbors? Pfft." Shaking her head in disappointment, Mal looks back to the bar. "Keep the man on ice 'til the Mayor arrives. Then we'll be on our way and we'll take 'em with us. Won't be your worry no more. Reckon we mighta left at least one cultist alive in the rock. They'll hang just as well as the boy would, and are far more to blame, if we're keepin' track and not just relyin' on the laws as set up by angry mobs. That mesh with you, Sheriff?"
Pleased that the girl is being looked over by someone other than herself, Mal downs her whiskey, and reaches over and downs Doc's as well. "Ain't like I have to worry." She says with a grin, happy to be above ground and alive and able to tease Doc for his choice of words. Despite Ben's selfishness, Mal had to admit that he had a knack for telling the story, making them sound a mite more heroic than they may have been, that's for true. She continued to drink while he told their story, wondering just how many adventures she really had left in her.
Ooooh that puts me up over 1k GP. I may need to do some shopping after all.
This, a thousand times this.
Oh, certainly. I was referring to the idea of "stripping cheap armour and weapons off of goblin corpses for sale". That doesn't seem like us.
I am notoriously awful about keeping track of loot. So far I haven't picked up anything except gold. I also don't think we'd generally have stripped things. We're not really scavengers as such. Ben has taken a couple things he liked the look of, and I think I still have Vincente's pistol, but we're not really in the market of picking up anything that's not nailed down. We have a bit more class than that, I think.
It doesn't matter to me, whatever is easiest for you.
Mal tosses a quick glare at Doc. "Well, we got plenty of 'em lyin' around waitin' to be studied! See if you can put that big brain yer always talkin' bout to use." She frowns for a moment. "Where did you leave Gulch?"
Mal grunts, ignoring Ben with little more than a smile at his taunts. "Sheriff and Deputy, too? At this rate, gonna be nothin' left'a the town time we leave anyhow." She squats down and examines one of the deceased doppelgangers. "Any idea how these things work, Doc? Any way to tell iffin' they ain't who they says? Like to be a great pile of panic, we cain't know who's who."
Ben had a warm acceptance back in Last Hope, though it was more of a business arrangement... ;) I lol'd.
Somehow, I doubt Jake's gonna get the same kind of warm, open-armed acceptance. ;-) Well, really, no one has gotten any kind of warm acceptance. :P
Hmm... I'm suddenly curious about what a Warpriest of the Shooter would look like... You might start a bit behind, because you'd likely need to grab the Gunsmithing feat which Gunslingers usually get for free - in addition to Point Blank Shot / Precise Shot / Rapid Reload. Though with Human and the Bonus Feats for the class, that bit might even out by 3rd. Actually a one-level dip in Gunslinger (Gun Tank) might be a better way to go. It gets you some other proficiencies and some simple deeds, which could be neat. Or a one-level dip in the Inquisitor with the Black Powder Inquisition could be interesting and thematic as well. The concept sounds super interesting, though. We might have to encounter one of those at some point.
Having seen you in a couple of games, I'm sure you won't be. :) Out of curiosity and impatience, what are you planning to play as?
Oh that must be the surprise! Welcome aboard. :D
As Ben begins to pick up everything from the Sheriff - including some of his clothing, Mal can't help but glare. This was so like him. The boy made her blood boil more often than she cared to admit. She forces a snort. "I weren't invitin' you, Dalton. Reckon you'll have your hands full tryin'a con people into givin' you a reward as it is." She shrugs. "Hell, ain't a matter to me if none of you come with. Simple fact is, the boy made a mistake. Ain't like none of us ever have. Don't suppose we'd be working for Gulch that were the case." Her eyes travel around the room, looking at each of them in turn. "Missteps shouldn't cost everything, even though they often do." She looks down at the girl. "Ready to get outta here, kid?"
Mal's mind went to the same place that Ben's did when the girl asked the question. It seemed likely that her father would hang. Reloading her gun, Mal turns her eyes towards Ben. "Ain't over till it's over, Dalton. I ain't about to let some learned suit condemn a man, tryin' to protect his daughter." "My uncle always said, if it bein' that ya cain't do somethin' smart, do somethin' right."
I'm updated. Is someone keeping track of our loot? I nominate the Doc for the boots of striding and springing. ;) I wouldn't mind the +1 studded leather if no one else wants it? I don't think anyone is yet. I'm certainly fine with Doc getting the boots and you getting the leather - it would benefit me as well, but with your sword, you're in melee a lot more than I am.
"Reckon it woulda all been lies, anyway." Mal agrees. She walks over to the young girl and begins inspecting her for damage, as one might examine a piece of fruit at the market. Satisfied, she stands up, rubbing the girl's head absently. "Thinkin' you might take a gander through the lady's book, Doc? Realisin' it ain't proper, but might be of use."
Level 3: +1 BAB +1d10 HP +1 Will Saves +8 Skill Points: +1 Bluff, +1 Craft Alchemy, +1 Intimidate, +1 Kn Local, +1 Perception, +1 Perform Violin, +1 Stealth, +1 Survival
Satisfied with the Doc's method of igniting the woman, Mal instead fires a shot at the Sheriff.
Mal bursts in through the door, and as Ben moves towards the girl, her eyes turn towards the man and woman. Eyes ablaze, she declares, "Only sacrificin' today is for The Hangman." She lets loose a bullet at the man, and then moves forward, getting a more advantageous spot where she can provide cover fire for Ben and the girl.
The Doc is more than capable of outsmarting people, though.
Talk to them to death. No, I actually have no idea. I don't know at all what is waiting for us through this door. It might well begin as a negotiation for all I know.
Mal turns back with a glare and speaks through clenched teeth. "Hush up, Idjits, or I'm like to leave you both down here for good." Taking a few steps back from the door, she goes over the plan. "We got an argument inside, heated-like. Reckon we can get a drop on them, though not if y'all start shootin' each other first." She shakes her head in disappointment. "Little girl waitin' for death trumps your ego, Doc. Now either stand with me or go back to the open road. Ain't got no use for foolery." Mal pulls up her gun, walking back over the door with her typical swagger. With Ben taking point on the other side of it, she rears back and gives it a good hard kick, hoping to blast it clear open.
"Workin' on it." Mal grunts back to the Doc. Glancing between the doors, Mallory narrows her eyes and shrugs at Bukaru. "Man lied about not hittin' the child. Still, ain't gonna shed any tears if we find more of 'em behind th' door." Making sure her gun is loaded, Mallory approaches Door C, listening for a moment to decide whether she should open it quietly or kick it in.
Mallory glances at Dalton, with a nod towards the cultist. "Funny thing, Dalton. His swears sound a mite too much like lies for my tastes. You reckon similar?" She looks back at the cultist with disgust. "Tough man, layin' hands onna child."
Expressing little more than a grunt at the Doc's return, Mallory keeps her eyes trained on the cultist, trying to decide what to do with him. A small smile creeps over her face all the same, though. "Nothin' a bit of fire and gunplay can't fix. Thought you skipped town, Doc."
"Reckon you do at that," she replies, taking another shot at the half-breed, a bit surprised at how quickly Ben got his gun functional again. It wasn't something that she would have been able to do - even in her prime she couldn't take apart and reassemble a gun that fast. It was humbling to see. Still, she was happy to be able to reload a gun faster - it often made quite the difference. It was clear that she could learn from him, and teach him herself, and she knew that staying alive was likely to mean putting aside her pride, so rather than badgering him about his reload speed again, she simply nods. "We get outta this, I'm happy to swap trade secrets."
Mal narrows her eyes when Ben points out that the creature is a half-breed. "Ain't reckon that's a fact like to help us?" She mutters with grit teeth. For a second she seems to consider Ben's suggestion to sing him a lullaby, but raises her gun all the same. "No time for songs."
She lets out a shot at "Snaggy". "'Sides, I got someone workin' hard waitin' on these bodies. Hate to let 'em down." Shooting a glare at Ben as he starts dismantling his gun, she grimaces. "Hardly the time for cleaning, boy. Better give a move on."
Mal charges down the hallway after the fleeing cultist, reloading her gun as she goes, nearly colliding with Ben as he backs up towards her, his shout echoing through her brain. Narrowing her eyes and preparing to glare at him, she instead follows his eyes to the hideous creature before them. "Aw hell." She mutters.
As Ben's sword slices through one of the cultists, Mal quickly draws her gun and fires at another. "Ain't never learn, do they?" She asks him as the bullet flies from her weapon.
Whipping around the wall immediately after Ben, Mal puts a hand on the end of her pistol and narrows her eyes down the hallway at the furthest cultist. 'Unarmed.' Mal groans to herself, before a twisted grin takes it place. Just because she couldn't shoot him, that didn't mean he knew she couldn't shoot him. "I reckon you boys ain't tangled with 'slingers, before. Any y'all make a move, I'ma have to put you down. My..." She paused, unsure of what word to use to describe her relationship with Ben. She decided to adopt a word she had heard Loveless use. "associate and I can have you riddled with holes 'fore ya get 5 feet. But if you tell us where the girl is, we ain't like to harm ya."
Mallory moves quietly down the hallway, curiously looking at the lamps, and wondering at what stage of Ben's plan he was likely to turn on her and steal the credit, glory, and reward for himself.
Seeing more posts from Ray - hope this means your hands are feeling better!
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