Slo says nothing, just tips the broad brim of his hat as he moseys off into the sunset.
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Slo belies his name as he dashes to the side for a better view, glinting sunlight off his pistol in a distracting fashion as he reloads then fires at the remaining leshy.
Crit damage if needed:
Slo Poke takes aim once more at the pink-flowering leshy, tossing the spent cartridge off to one side as he reloads, hoping to make a distraction before he fires again.
Crit damage if needed:
Crit damage if needed:
How much XP does it grant?
Slo Poke twirls his pistol again, snapping off another shot at the now-frightened target before quickly reloading.
Crit damage if needed:
In stark contrast to his name, Slo Poke darts quickly to the side, his pistol appearing, twirling, in his hand as he fires off a quick shot at the nearest leshy. He glares at them as he quickly reloads, as if daring them not to give up.
Crit damage if needed:
Slo pulls out his pistol and begins to take aim at one of the locked gates. As a servant walks by, however, he pauses. Perhaps making that much noise is a bad idea. Instead, he tries to squeeze through between the fence and hedge.
Slo looks around the party, as if doubtful there's any chance of successfully pulling off this deception. He shrugs and says "All right, let's try."
"Welp" slowpoke says, slowly moseying over to the ornate trunk. "One o' y'all check the desk, I'll check the chest." He attempts to open the chest.
If it's locked: He draws his pistol and attempts to shoot the lock out.
"Weeeeeelp," Slo says, in no hurry, [b]"wasn't expectin' to be fightin' no candles today, but I s'pose these things happen. In a flash, he fires off another pair of shots at the nearby candle, twirling his pistol in between.
Crit damage if needed:
Crit damage if needed:
Slo Poke ambles quickly to a better position, his gun appearing in his hand from beneath his leafy serape. With a flourish, he twirls the gun around his finger and fires, reloading in a flash as he glares at the candlemaker.
Crit damage if needed:
Slo has no particular skill in these things, but he's generally good with his hands, so he gives it a go.
Slo nudges the brim of his hat up just enough to glare at the man behind the counter. "Best be answerin' quick." His voice is quiet, but the malice and growing inpatience are clear.
Slo glares at the next townsperson he sees. "Listen up! Yer gonna tell us what you seen, and that's all there is to say about it!"
"Much obliged." Slo tips his hat to the man, then starts to mosey in the direction the baker indicated.
Slo poke whips his hand out from under his sarape, a pistol in his spiny fist. "Go on, git, ya varmints!" he shouts, firing his gun in the air as he glares at the deer.
Slo finds a nearby tree to lean against, chuckling as he takes in the tableau.
Slo ambles into camp after Popcorn, calmly looking around for trouble.
Slo ambles across the bridge and waits beside Fluff Fang.
Slo Poke looks nervously at the river. "Ain't never seen this much water in one place back home, and ain't never rightly learned to swim." After thinking for a moment, they pull a satchel from under their sarape, retrieving a coil of rope and a grappling hook. Affixing the hook to one end, they toss it across the river, calling to Bamboom and Reaching Rings "can one of y'all hook that good and sturdy around somethin' stout?" Once the far end is in place, he looks for something on this end to tie the rope off, leaving a slip loop he can use to retrieve the rope after crossing.
"Hm, nice flowers. Ain't got nothin' like them out in the badlands, that's fer sure."
"Well, now hold on there friendo, first we gotta git ourselves over to that other side."
"Yup, s'pose we oughta mosey on thataway."
A snapdragon leshy's face twists into a big frown. "This is NOT okay! We must hunt down the problem! And set them on fire!" It wouldn't be a Kate character if it wasn't trying to either (a) smash something, (b) light something on fire, or preferably (c) both.
"Weeeeelp" the cactus in the corner says kicking his tiny boots down off the log he was resting them on and tilting up his wide hat. "Ah reckon...you might be right there friend." He stands, his arms mostly hidden by his large serape made of woven leaves. "Ah suppose we'd best be gettin' too it, while it's still to be gotten to." |