Marshall Colt Winchester's page

The Alkenstaran Marshal nods as the plans are in place, but the anticipation of action was overwhelming him. Yes, the long search for Rau might be at an end, but by now, Colt realized that there were much bigger forces at play than just the Mwangi bandit. Colt would take down Rau, but the Captain would have to wait a bit longer before he booked ship back to Martel.

If we wag gums much longer, we lose our shot to bushwhack these hombres, and increase the chances of them doing some nasty business to your friend. I’m goin in.

Knowing it was probably foolish, the Marshal found himself unwilling to let these villains have any more time to do whatever they were planning with the bones in the room and the large man. The description was too close to tales he had heard about unholy rituals performed by the necromancers of Geb. He figured a loud and unruly entrance might distract enough to give the sneakier members a chance to move in to flank.

The Marshal swung open the door, leveled his guns, looked for Rau and opened fire.

Yeeeeehaaaaaw! Who ordered the whoopass fajitias?

out of character I know at least a couple know we are there, so I didn’t know how you wanted to handle surprise, so I did not roll to hit, waiting on the ruling.

Colt touches the tip of his hat with a finger before pulling out his pistols.

Well, ma’am, Rau has killed a gaggle. In different ways. Likes to mix it up. There’s folks that kill ‘cuz they need ta, folks that love the action, and folks that really get their shine on off it. Me, I ain’t too proud to admit to the second. The thrill of living like a candle on Death’s birthday cake. But Rau, he’s one that gets a sick pleasure out of taking life, innocent or otherwise.

What makes him mighty dangerous is these.

The Marshal waves one of his guns in the air.

he’s good with ‘em. He’s got some as shouldn’t, and plans to sell to the wrong sort.

The Alkenstaran sighs.

much it pains me, but if we want ta concentrate on Pappy first, I’ll oblige ya. But don’t sleep on the Mwangi. An unskilled shooter can do heaps of hurt with a gun, and Rau ain’t unskilled.

Far as a plan, I was thinking to swing open the doors and fill the room up with lead. I like ta keep it simple.

Colt grins mischievously.

At the mention of the skull-masked human, Colt’s eyes grow cold.

That sounds like Rau. I’ve been chasing that varmint half across Avistan. If you folks want to get ready, we can give it a tick, I reckon. Then I’m fixing to bring the Hells down on those pond scum. We can help the Padre, save your friend from whatever they got goin on, and I can make a canoe out of that slimy murdered’s head.

Colt nods at the plan to split. It only made sense, and the Marshal was used to working alone or with one partner, anyway.

works for me.

Seeing the supernatural forces taking over his new companions, he steps out of the way. If there was something to hunt, something to investigate, something to kill…but this was different, and out of his experience.

the sad fate of our dear Padre, I’m afraid, and the reason he ain’t gave up the ghost yet, so to speak. He tried to do right by this place, but his reward was being tossed in a cookpot. Maybe if this is where they did the deed, the remains won’t be too far.

Still in…sorry I’ve been slow lately

Colt wakes up from his rest, feeling refreshed. He steps outside of the chapel and has a smoke while he cleans and oils his weapons, methodically checking each moving part. He stamps out the cigarette and gives his badge a good sleeve/polish before rejoining the group.

all this sounds good. I got no leads on my outlaw, and I got a promise to be keepin’. I’m more than willing to come along and help out with all this other ruckus. Can’t have all these desperados at our backs.

He watches the group with the keen eye for detail that he has developed as an Alkenstar Gunmarshal. The thing you don’t notice when chasing some bandit across the Mana Wastes is the thing that kills you. Or worse.

As the they travel along, Colt stays mostly quiet, observing and learning, letting the others take the lead. After Nyym relays what he hears, he ponders for a moment and then speaks in a low whisper.

Cats? here? Gotta be either attack pets or tonight’s chili. I like the lady’s thought. If you ain’t noticed, there ain’t much subtlety once I have to cut loose the smokewagons.”

Colt rolls some tobacco into a slip of paper and then remembers the admonition of the ghost. He stuffs the cigarette into his coat pocket and sighs.

The Alkenstar Gunmarshal sprawls his body out on a pew and places his hat down over his eyes to darken the room and rest.

what brings me to these parts is hunting a murdering varmint named Rau. Mwangi feller. Cold as the day is long. You folks wouldn’t happen to have seen him, would ya?

Colt walks down the staircase, reloading his pistols as he walks towards the group. He makes sure his badge is visible and in proper place. He sweeps his hat off of his head and gives a bow to the ladies in the group.

Marshal Colt Winchester of Alkenstar. Mighty pleased to meet ya.

The gunslinger stands and smiles to the whole group.

Mighty well done on taking out this trash. You are a formidable bunch, for sure.

When Aiko mentions Fabian Blix, Colt doffs his hat again and gives a low bow, switching to Tien for a moment, and speaking more formally than his normal style.

Pleased to meet you, Far Traveller. The ancestor of your friend is now a ghost, and he is in this chapel to Iomede. I will spare you the details, but the end he met was…unpleasant. The child and I have agreed to aid his spirit in finding rest by recovering his remains from this fort.

He tosses a wink to Rocnork.

Appreciate the tip on the silver. Shoulda known myself, but it was heaps helpful to know what to use to put that creeper under the snakes.

Colt smiles grimly and takes another shot.

judge: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 211d8 + 6 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 6 + 13 = 27

Point blank shot, firing into melee, deadly aim, move action to reload. Brings him to 6 in the chamber for Jury and one left in the chamber for Judge.

As the bullet streaks towards the undead orc, Colt is already nimbly placing a loading ring against the back of Jury’s cylinder, and with a flick of his wrist, there is a satisfying click as the cartridges lock home.

Colt jogs in a northwesterly direction to get a better angle for a shot, then takes another shot at the monster.

attack with judge: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 261d8 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

I included -3 for deadly aim and -4 for firing at a melee.

1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22

crit confirmation. I fired 3 times. This should have followed the natural 20.

leave the youngins alone, you pig-faced, yellow-bellied buzzard!

Colt aimed his silver-loaded pistol at Marduk, fanning the hammer as he unloaded shots as quickly as he could.

revolver: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 161d8 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15

revolver: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (20) + 13 = 331d8 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

revolver: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 221d8 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

Rapid shot, deadly aim, grazed condition, resolved against touch AC.

Colt flicks open the cylinder of Judge and lets the remaining 3 cartridges fall to the ground. He grabs one his precious loading rings of silver bullets and pushes it up against the cylinder, then with a flick of his wrist, he flips the cylinder into a firing position.

silver, huh? Thanks, scaly hombre.

The marshal jogs southeast to move into a position with a clearer firing line.

2 move actions and I’m done.

Colt sees the ladies being mobbed by the crowd of undead orcs.

damned Gebbites.

if Mama Winchester, Pharasma rest her kindly soul, taught her little boy anything, it was never let a lady get torn apart by undead.

so many of the cursed things. Well, only one way to eat an oliphaunt. One bite at a time.

The marshal’s weapons roar into life with thunder and fire as he peppers the spawn with a volley of bullets.

judge primary: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 181d8 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19
jury off-hand: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 231d8 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14
judge rapid shot: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 281d8 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
judge iterative attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 261d8 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

rapid shot, deadly aim, 2 weapon fighting, and -1 for grazed all included…judgement should bring me back up another to -17 off max hp.

Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Colt sees two monsters fighting each other, but when he sees the Erutaki fighting the ogres, he figures that the dragon creature must be one of the good guys. Besides, after seeing what the woman could do, he wanted to be on whatever side she was on. Wow.

2 shots at +12 because of deadly aim and a -4 for firing into melee.

judge: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 311d8 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
jury: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 311d8 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

The report of the gunshots made the Marshal smile.
got something sweet for ya, ya ugly cuss

think Colt may be out of line of sight of the current action. His portion of the map isn’t showing, but I remember the chapel was just off-camera to the left.

Colt hears the battle raging around the corner and heads over to get a good vantage point, scooping up his Highwall as he does so.

move action to pick up Executioner, (and shove it into the back holster since he’s already bent down and can do it in one motion) and then up to 30 feet to the east/south, (can’t really count the squares as I can’t see my starting location) to get into a firing position. He should also heal 1 point from his active Judgement.

The sounds of battle rage on, but Colt decides to take advantage of the few seconds of breathing room to attend to his weapons. His deft fingers pluck the jammed cartridge from the cylinder of Jury with an almost supernatural speed. Then he quickly grabs a loader ring from his bandolier and slams it into the empty Judge.

spends 1 grit to quick-clear and reloads his other pistol. Two move-equivalent actions that keep him out of the fight this round.

All good now, son. he says to Meir.
how bout you and I get in on the hootnanny?

edited to change his legal judgement to fast healing 1 as a swift action. Giant cleavers hurt.

Degenerate ogres must be like the “Degens from upcountry” on Letterkenny

Colt is relieved as the barrage of bullets finally takes down the giant. He’s concerned at first, when the beast falls toward Meir, but the young man seems to be ok.
doing better than me, anyhow
He thinks with an inward groan of pain.

He doesn’t look up, taking Meir at his word.

Helping folks comes with the badge, son. Let me toss some beans in the wheel and clear this hung Jury and I’ll be there lickity-split.

The Gunman’s Duster absorbs the brunt of the powerful giant’s strike, keeping the cleaver from cutting Colt open. The blow staggers the marshal back a step. Colt sucks in air through his teeth, hoping his ribs aren’t broken from the mighty blow.
Gods alive, that is gonna leave a mark!

Colt brings his guns up to bear and takes a step back. With Jury damaged and the giant still coming, he is desperately hoping not to get backed into a corner, but at the same time, this was just plain fun!

Hoping to keep the monster’s attention on him and away from Meir, the shield marshal takes another step back away from the cleaver and taunts the beast in giant.

Boy, I done told you to git to sleepin’! My sister’s toddler listens better! Come to think of it, the little guttersnipe hits harder than you, too, Sweetness.

Colt makes kissy sounds at the giant as he opens fire.

To simplify my math, I’m letting the -1 from grazed cancel out the +1 from point blank shot.

judge attack: 1d20 + 14 - 3 ⇒ (12) + 14 - 3 = 23 rapid shot is factored in and -3 for deadly aim
judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 6 + 1 = 20 deadly and judgement

judge attack: 1d20 + 14 - 3 ⇒ (16) + 14 - 3 = 27 rapid shot is factored in and -3 for deadly aim
judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 6 + 1 = 19 deadly and judgement

jury attack: 1d20 + 14 - 3 - 1 ⇒ (11) + 14 - 3 - 1 = 21 extra -1 for broken condition.
jury damage: 1d8 + 5 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 5 + 6 = 13 broken condition cancels out judgement

judge iterative attack: 1d20 + 9 - 3 ⇒ (4) + 9 - 3 = 10
judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 6 + 1 = 15

My mistake…I misread. You applied the Judge damage and informed me of the results of the broken condition. Disregard.

Not to be that guy, but the crit had to come from judge’s secondary attack, as jury was the off-hand weapon that round. I initially was going to fire 2 from each, but I edited because I realized that according to the way the attack sequence is supposed to work, extra attacks from BAB come from the primary weapon. Just to clarify, I don’t think it matters too much, and DM is the real lawdog.
I didn’t realize that the crit system did not multiply damage bonuses like the regular crit system. I apologize for not getting that one right. I’m used to just multiplying everything except extra dice. But I see with giants running around it might work in our favor in the long run the way you have it, so I ain’t complaining.

for initiative count 18

Colt continues to sing as he takes a step back from the cleaver, now punctuating the rests in his trail song with the (much more satisfying) sound of gunshots.

Judge: 1d20 + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 = 26
Judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 = 18

all of the doggies are in the corral

rapid shot Judge: 1d20 + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 = 23
judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 = 20

all of your work is done

Jury: 1d20 + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 14 - 3 - 2 + 1 = 11
jury damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 = 16

just close your eyes and dream little pal

secondary shot: 1d20 + 9 - 3 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 9 - 3 - 2 + 1 = 25
Judge damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 = 14

dream of someone

looks like there’s a Crit to confirm and Jury is broken. I guess with the average die crit system that would add 51 omg damage
confirm crit: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Colt’s Danger Sense ability from the Shield Marshal Prestige class allows him to always act in a surprise round, so I guess this happens on the giant’s way in.

Colt whips up his Highwall and smiles.

Bedtime, big boy. I’m here at tuck ya in like sweet-like.

and starts to sing a pleasant little song, incongruous with what is going on.

Blue Shadows on the trail

point blank adds +1 to hit and damage, Legal Judgement:Judgement will add +1 damage, deadly aim will be -3 hit, +6 damage. attack resolved against touch AC
rifle attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20

rifle damage: 1d10 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 1 + 1 + 6 = 16

The Marshal finds the weird silence of the shot unsettling, and the Highwall is a single-shot weapon, anyway, so he drops it and quick-draws his revolvers.

Little Cowboy, close your eyes, and dream

Colt sees the giant approaching and figures that stealth just went out the window.

Brigh’s bronze bosoms! he curses, muttering.

The situation was an unholy mess, but the promise of a bit of chaos and action gives the gunslinger that familiar thrill that has in the past saved his life and caused him trouble in about equal measure.

go for the stairs, son. I’ll cover you against the slop-slinger, here.

He says to the apron-wearing brute in giant…
all right, darlin’, let’s have a dance.

initiative: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Colt holsters his revolvers and pulls out his trusty Highwall, Executioner. He calmly unattaches the bayonet and checks the action, making sure he has a cartridge loaded. With the little bit of magic from the Captain, the rifle would be the more stealthy option.

Alright, son. I think Padre is right. We can get us a look-see around this place from the bell-tower.

The Marshal remembers the now-familiar tittering laughter before the bell started clanging earlier.

you are going to have to keep your phantom cowboy from making music. Seems like he’s a fun feller, which I don’t mind a jot, but I’m also thinkin’ he ain’t aiming to see ya dead. Let’s mosey on up to the next level all quiet-like.

When Meir is ready, Colt peeks outside of the chapel to see if the immediate area is clear. If it is, he slips out, rifle at the ready, keeping to cover and shadows and running his sharp eyes over the area ahead.

stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

seriously?

The appearance of the ghostly creature stepping away from Meir takes Colt by surprise.
NOW what? Who in blazes is this? We gonna have us a whole hootnanny in the church directly. At least this one is a good-lookin feller.

Colt watches the spirit as it tells its tale with the watchful eye of a trained investigator.
sense motive: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (10) + 19 = 29

out of character I feel like the ghost is probably legit, so I’ll proceed as if Colt senses nothing amiss. If I’m wrong I’ll come back in and edit.

When the ghost finishes it’s horrifying tale, Colt is almost sobered for a minute, then decides to cover the horror with flippancy as he turns to the ghost,

so, as far as fires in church, tabakky bad, dead bodies good, got it. Be glad to help ya, Padre. Sounds like you got the short end of it, and that ain’t no lie. I’m mighty sorry about your pickle. Must be like being in a prison, no matter how elegantly arranged. This ain’t no right reward for doing the right thing in the face of horror, so I’m with the kid on this one. We’ll get that body and have us a proper barbecue so you can go to Heaven and kiss your mammy.

Colt moves his attention over to Meir.
You are a strange one, sure as the sunrise, but I’ve had the same said of me more than once. If your sister is around these parts, she ain’t safe. So at least until we help the Padre here, and find your kin, I got your back.

Colt looks again at the spirit he suspects is mocking him.
both of ya.

first thing, Padre, we need to know our way around these parts. If the body is still here after all the orcs been through, it sure ain’t gonna be out in the open. Could ya give us a rundown of this place? Or what it was like when you were breathin’?

I'll edit if I need to, but Im reading that as Meir had guns. if Im wrong and you are just using Colt's Danger Sense ability, the post will of course, be different.

Colt's eyes widen as Meir puts out the cigarette, then the shieldmarshal bursts out with laughter.

Got yourself a pair of brass ones, dont ya, son? I respect that. Yup, Shieldmarshal is a title of sorts. We are the guardians and lawdogs of the Grand Duchy of Alkenstar. I don't truck too much with formality, so Colt suits me right down to the ground. Its in my duties as a shieldmarshal that I'm looking for this Rau fella. Sure you ain't seen him? He might look like he's wearing his brain pan on the outside. Mwangi feller.

Not really expecting a positive answer (the fact the young man was breathing seemed to Marshal Winchester clue enough that Meir hadn't seen him), Colt steps up to the statue of Iomedae and tips his hat.

Begging your pardon, ma'am, but seein' as we seem to have a hair in the butter, and I expect you ain't too keen on the other potential guests, I'm thinking we may have to realign the fung shui up in here to make a defensible position.

Marshal Winchester is quickly planning how to arrange the chapel furniture to create a firing bulwark when Meir makes his comment and Colt gets the feeling someone is dancing on his grave.

He whirls around and, with a barely perceptible blur of motion, Judge and Jury spring up into his hands and point towards the spirit. He sees Meir draw revolvers, but the Marshal files away that oddity for future questions. The young man doesn't seem to want to speak much about what is going on, but if those revolvers are from an illegal transaction, Colt may have some decisions to make.

Little guy is heeled? What in tarnation?

Colt responds to the spirit's telepathic communications out loud.

First thing, I need to know this isn't some Geb shenanigans. I'll admit it ain't likely out here in the boonies, but anything is possible. So if you don't mind, I'll leave my barking irons right here to say howdy. Beyond that, I'd be mighty obliged for some assistance. First, you reckon it's ok or disrespectful to have a poke in here? Second, there is a certain fella, who, well, I'm not for airin' the lungs in church, but let's just say he's a bad man. Maybe you can assist with that? Other than that, some cuss joined a big bell choir a bit ago and who knows what might be headin' this way. Assistin' with that be mighty big of ya.

The Marshal thinks for a moment and then continues.
It occurs to me that you may be asking us for assistance. If that's the case, we are busy as a one-legged man in a rump-kicking contest, but I for one, am still inclined to help ya...If you ain't from Geb.

religion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

The tall, slim man's deft fingers roll a bit of dried tobacco into a small square of paper, he strikes a tindertwig against a pew to light it, and takes a long pull from his cigarette.
From what I've heard tell, Iomedae seems like a good egg. I reckon' she won't mind me havin' a poke.

Colt gives his attention to Meir, spits in his hand, and offers it for the young man to shake.

Shieldmarshal Colt Winchester, mighty pleased to acquaint with you.

Whether or not Meir takes his hand, he offers his cigarette to the young man.

This may calm your nerves and grow a patch on ya. I'm here looking for a varmint calling himself Rau so I can put him under snakes. What is a guttersnipe between hay and grass doin' out here? Tryin' to visit the bone garden?

Colt is a tall, thin man, with the light brown skin tone of a man with Garundi ancestry. His limbs are long and gangly, to the extent that one would expect him to be clumsy and ungainly, but he moves with a cat-like grace. He wears pointed leather boots, simple dungarees, and a collared shirt under a long duster, as well as a wide-brimmed hat.
Riding low on his hips he wears a pair of Alkenstaran revolvers, Judge and Jury. His Rifle, Executioner, he wears on a back holster with a bayonet attached to the barrel. Two bandoliers of bullets cross his chest.
His duster is adorned with a silver badge bearing the crest of Alkenstar, a pair of crossed rifles.
By profession, Marshal Winchester is a dedicated Shield Marshal, but he can often be mischievous and has a strong independent streak. He doesn't always follow the rules, but he gets the job done.