Marshall Colt Winchester's page

About Marshall Colt Winchester

Ability Scores:
STR 8
DEX 20 (16, +2 Human, +2 Physical Prowess)
CON 10
INT 14
WIS 20 (16, +4 Mental Prowess, +2 levels)
CHA 12

Initiative 9 (+5 dex, +2 gunslinger, +2 danger sense)

Fort: 8
Ref: 9
Will: 7

HP 65

AC 25/27 vs giants or firearms (+5 Dex, +6 Gunman's Duster with attunement, +2 Deflection, +1 toughening,+1 dodge nimble)
AC Touch 17/19 vs firearms (+4 Dex, +2 Deflection, +1 dodge)
AC flatfooted 19 (+6 Duster, +2 Deflection, +1 toughening)
CMB: +8
CMD: +17 (+5 dex, -1 str, +2 deflection, +1 dodge)

Attacks: (-3 hit/+6 damage with deadly aim)
Revolver:
+20/+15, 1d8+6, Range 20ft, 20/x4
Shot or two weapon:
+18/+18/+15
Two Weapon and Rapid Shot:
+16/+16/+16/+11
Rifle:
+14/+9 1d10+5 Range 80, x4 crit
Bayonet:
+13/+8 1d6-1

Equipment:
Gunman's Duster
+1 Revolver (Judge)
+1 Revolver (Jury)
Rifle (Executioner)
Bayonet
600 metal cartridges
18 silver
12 adamantite
Bedroll
Blanket
Backpack
Bandoliers
Gunsmithing Kit
Rope, silk
Sunrod 10
Rations 14
Gunman's Duster (+4 AC, +2 luck vs firearms, +1 Grit Point, +1 dodge deed)
Alchemist's Fire (6)
Acid (4)
Antitoxin (4)
Sting Grenade (2)
Marker Dye (6)
Alchemical Cement (6)
Alchemical Solvent (2)
Alchemist's Kindness (10)
Sneezing Powder (5)
Smoke Pellet, Smog (4)
Smokestick (6)
Tindertwigs (10)
Tanglefoot Bags (10)
Cigars (10)
Rolling Papers
Tobacco

Feats: G1- Gunsmith
H-Quickdraw
1-2 weapon fighting
3- Deadly Aim
G4-Point Blank Shot
6- Rapid Shot
9-Precise Shot

Skills:
Groups:
Social (Society +12)
Perceptive (Perception +21)
Physical (Acrobatics +16, Athletics +12)
(Finesse +16)
(Survival +18)

Deeds: Grit 8
Deadeye (1 grit per extra range increment)
Gunslinger's Dodge (+3 AC for one grit)
Quick Clear (1 grit to clear as move action)
Gunslinger Initiative (+2 initiative, draw weapon with initiative roll)
Pistol Whip (1 grit to hit with gun, perform combat manuevers)
Utility Shots (Blast Lock, Scoot Object, Stop Bleeding)
Targeting
Dead shot
Startling Shot

Judgements:
Bulletproof (DR -/1)
Destruction (+1 to hit)
Evasive (evasion, uncanny dodge, improved uncanny dodge)
Justice (+1 to damage)
Lucky Dodge (+1 AC)
Quick Recovery (Fast Healing 1)
Sharpshooter (3)
Sureshot (10% reduction to concealment)

Trait: Never Stop Shooting
Trait 2: Dwarf Trained

Colt was sitting at the tavern, taking a long pull from a tankard, when he heard the familiar voice of Shield Marshal Corag, a young man of Garundi ancestry who had recently joined the shieldmarshals, and was often given “new guy” duties, like carrying messages.
“Marshal Winchester!” The young recruit excitedly exclaimed, “We got him!”
Colt tamped down his excitement, not wanting to seem too eager in front of the rookie, but he could only go so far to hide the hurry in his actions as he slammed back the rest of his drink and stepped outside into the smog-filled sky of Martel. The two Marshals headed immediately to the Shieldmarshal headquarters not far away from the tavern.
Colt strode quickly and purposefully towards the holding cells. On the way, the matronly and deadly Captain Gennaria Tolgris fell into step beside him.
“I know you were off today, but I thought you would want to know immediately when we found him. He was running some dice scam at the Silver Bullet and young Corag here made the ID.”
Corag smiled at the implied praise and, since no one had told him to go away, kept walking with them.
Colt answered and tipped the wide brim of his hat. “Thank you, ma’am, you were correct as always. I’d like to interrogate, if that’s ok, Captain.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have him cooling his heels in an interrogation room. No one has spoken to him in about an hour.”
The three of them reached the room a few minutes later. When Captain Tolgris opened the door, the halfling man inside complained. “Is anyone going to bring me that water I asked for? Im parched!”
Gennaria smiled. “Nope. But we brought you something else. A nice surprise for you.” She stepped aside and allowed Shield Marshal Colt Winchester to stride into the room. The halfling’s face blanched when he saw Colt walk towards him, prop his leg up onto a chair and lean towards him.
“Hello there, Big Willie!” Colt said with a smile while he pulled one of his revolvers out of it’s holster and rested it on his knee. “Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age, how are you?”
Williford Thornbush (AKA, for some reason, Big Willie Johnson) was a deceptively dangerous halfling thief, con artist, and occasional killer, but the halfling knew Colt, and in a land full of weapons that could kill you before you even get a chance to hear the thunderous shot, there were few quite as dangerous with those weapons as Marshal Colt Winchester.
Willie tried to put up a brave front, all the same. “Heya, Colt. I know we haven’t hung out much since you went lawdog, but I’ve been meaning to catch up. How about we clear up this little misunderstanding and go have a drink. Like I told the kid over there, “ he nodded towards Corag, “I had no idea those dice were loaded. I bought them off of a Varisian bard.”
Colt shook his head and looked up from his weapon to meet the halfling’s eyes. “Willie, I have no interest in whatever scam you were pulling at the Bullet. If a man sits down at a table and doesn’t bring his own dice or cards, he is inviting his own trouble.”
Willie’s cherubic face was filled with hope. “Exactly! So, for old times’ sake, let’s get this all cleared up. I knew being a lawdog wasn’t going to change ole Colt…”
Colt interrupted, “my friends, however,” He waved back to the Captain and the rookie, “Are a little less forgiving about gambling scams. But gambling ain’t why we are here, Willie. I think you know why. Where is he?”
Willie chewed his lip. Colt had eyes like a hawk, and an ability to smell a lie that he would swear was magical, if magic worked in Alkenstar. But Colt’s question turned a possibility of restitution, a fine, and maybe some jail time into a life or death situation. He decided to try. “I don’t know who you are talking about, Colt.”
Colt smiled a friendly smile and sat down at the table across from Willie and started to idly spin the cylinder on his revolver. “Now Willie…aren’t we friends? Remember all those times we got drunk on whisky and gambled the night away? Friends don’t lie to one another, do they Willie?”
The halfling’s eyes widened and stayed glued to the revolver. He did remember the old days, but what he was remembering most right now was how Colt often chose to end an argument with a loud bang no one ever saw coming. And blood. A lot of blood. “I don’t know where he is, Colt! I swear on my momma’s grave I don’t know!”
Colt opened the cylinder on his revolver and started to remove the bullets one by one as he spoke. “Willie, I guess I never told you how I met your mother, and your father. They offered me lunch and a nice ice wine, and we had a good little chat. That was two days ago. Very nice people, very disappointed in their son, and very much alive. That’s how I knew to post Corag there at the Silver Bullet.” Colt lined 6 bullets up neatly on the table, then picked one of them up and placed it back into the cylinder, showing it to Williford. With a flick of his wrist, he clicked the cylinder back into place and spun it with his other hand. “You like games, Willie? What am I talking about, I know you do. When I was at the Silver Bullet myself, I met a Varisian bard. Maybe they guy you were talking about with the dice. He told a story about a game that is played where you put one bullet into the revolver, spin the cylinder, and take turns pulling the trigger to see what happens. Of course you know what happens to the loser.”
Colt took the revolver and placed the barrel against his own temple. “Ill go first, just so you know it’s fair, then it’s your turn.” Without hesitation, Colt squeezed the trigger and produced a dry, empty click sound, spun the cylinder, then pointed the barrel at Willie. “Your turn. Every time you lie to me, we play another round.”
Fear filled the halfling’s face as the barrel of the gun he knew Colt called “Judge” swept in front of his eyes and there was a palpable relief when, once again, the weapon made an empty “click” sound.
“OK! OK!” The halfling was screaming. “Beltzen! He went to Beltzen!”
“Beltzen? That doesn’t make any sense. I guess it’s time for round two.”
“NO! Im telling the truth! Beltzen! Some podunk town called Truneau full of people too stupid to move away from the orcs!”
Marshal Winchester started to replace the 5 missing bullets into Judge’s cylinder. “Why Willie! I do believe we are friends again.”
Willie was relieved that the game was over, but terrified of something else. “You gotta protect me! If he knew I squealed, I’d be just as dead as if that chamber came up hot.”
At this point, Captain Tolgris stepped into the room. “No safer place than the cell that’s already waiting on you, Mr. Thornbush.” She took Colt by the arm and guided him out.
Corag stared at Colt with fear and awe. “You…you are mad! You could have killed yourself!”
Colt placed a hand on the rookie’s shoulder. “Marshal Corag, you have been listening to bard’s tales, too. If you took a barrel to the top of a hill, and weighted down one side of it, then rolled the barrel down the hill, what are the odds that the barrel will land heavy side up at the bottom of the hill?”
An impressed grin crossed Corag’s face, “Not much chance at all, sir.” He laughed and walked away, shaking his head.
After Corag walked away Gennaria took Colt aside. “I’ll arrange for transportation to Avistan. You know that you will likely be gone for a very long time. I mean maybe years. He’s eluded us for a long time.”
Colt smiled at the borderline mothering and replied, “Just keep the home fires burning. Get me on that ship and Ill bring back his entrails to decorate that fine office of yours.”
“His head will be fine, Marshal Winchester.” She answered. Then she slipped into a decent impression of Corag. “Not much chance at all, sir…but not zero.”
Colt gave her that charming, lopsided smile. “no.” he said. “not zero.” And turned to leave.
Gennaria watched Marshal Colt Winchester walk away and wondered, not for the first time, if Corag was right the first time, and the man truly was mad.