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>Hey guys. Trying for a change of pace for a quest to run alongside my XenoMorph Quest. This will not be a civ so they shouldn't interfere with each other in the old noodle.

>Rules. Good to have them because without them we are just raging /B/tards. Rolls are D100, best of first 3, crits win and cancel crits. You roll with your vote when prompted. highest roll wins.

>Setting. This will be a post-apocalyptic low-Fantasy Quest set in a Desert/wasteland populated only by those desperate or stubborn enough to live there.

Quest begin

Your boots settle upon upon the sand blasted surface of the Asphalt road. A rusted octagonal sign nearby tells all who approach "S-OP". You lift your goggles from your eyes as the wind dies down, the sand whistling through the air settling like gritty snow. You wet a rag from your canteen (you passed a spring a while back so you don't feel wasteful) and wipe your face carefully, sighing at the cool relief. You sweep your coat back and marvel that you have made it this far. Although the wastes are mostly empty the inhabitants are generally unfriendly.

>Who are you?

>Name

>Gender

>Backstory
>>
>>1538564
Ill keep this up but if there's no interest in the next hour or 2 ill abandon thread so this doesn't clog the page
>>
>Shameless self bump
>>
>>1538654
All the interest on my part. Man with no name character a go.

Joseph Slate

Male

Deserter from a small but bloody war turned bounty hunter. Labeled a deserter since the bloody cowards tried to hang him twice and failed, still has the scars. Scared em enough to let him go though.
>>
>>1538564

>M'name's Mark Rowell

>I'm a gentleman

>I was a slave, a'fore I went an' ran west. Now I'm a freed man, here in the wastes.
>>
>>1538752
>>1538756

Excellent character ideas.

Any other anons want to vote or offer another are welcome
>>
>>1538564
Dermot McCade. 32 years old.

Former caravan guard, now just a drifter. Came from a town called Rhyolite. Place's dead now though after the raid...
>>
Any other anons want to roll before I call this and roll a D3
>>
>>1538837
Here's hoping mine wins.
>>
>>1538850

Ey 'Fornia. Seen ya in Red Mettle. Sorry, gotta disagree with ya there. :P
>>
>>1538859
It's cool man. Not really feeling your entry either. All's fair in war etc.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d3)

>1.Joseph Slate

>2.Mark Rowel

>3.Dermot McCade
>>
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>1.Joseph Slate

>2.Mark Rowel

>3.Dermot McCade
>>
>>1538873
>>1538874
>>1538876

Looks like neither of us win
>>
>>1538874
>>1538876
What the fuck?
>>
>>1538874
Aw. Oh well. Can't hate lady luck for being fickle.
>>
>>1538880
Looks like a rare doublepost.
>>
>Dermot MCcade wins through some dice fuckery.

Writing
>>
>>1538880
Odd. If you do it one more time and it's slate should we have a party of three gunslingers? That would definitely be different.
>>
>>1538879
>>1538881
WOOOOO, RANDO OUT OF NOWHERE FOR THE WIN!

Seriously, though, those were pretty good choices. Sorry about ruining your plans.
>>
>>1538898
No worries. Caravan guard eh? This can be fun.
>>
>>1538898
's cool

Now we get to True Grit the shit out of it

Still woulda liked a Django
>>
You think back to that night in Rhyolite. The night you left all your friends and the closest thing you had to family dead in the dust. Dead without graves. Ghosts that follow you every step you take.

Visions dance behind your eyes. Hooded figures on horseback, pistols and blades flashing, womenfolk screaming in terror, children crying, gunshots, the stink of burning meat. You remember it all like it was yesterday. A slightly prosperous town burned to blood and ashes on one night over a slighted ranchers spoiled son and his "Gang".

You spit into the dust, resuming your walk through the wastes. As you walk you adjust your gunbelt, fingers sliding over the well worn grip of...

>A pair of Paired Revolvers, their handles smooth and contoured to your hands. A rattlesnake is etched into each barrel

>A Sawed off shotgun. Its not fancy but you can pulp anyone close enough. Kicks like a motherfucker though.

>A Short barreled Carbine. Resembling a long barreled pistol this weapon is perfect for killing a man and the man behind him.

>Other (Write in)
>>
>>1538946
>>A Sawed off shotgun. Its not fancy but you can pulp anyone close enough. Kicks like a motherfucker though.

Caravan guard, after all

They literally rode shotgun
>>
>>1538946
>>A pair of Paired Revolvers, their handles smooth and contoured to your hands. A rattlesnake is etched into each barrel

Gotta go with the classics. Also I have a thing for revolvers.
>>
>>1538912
>>1538921
Yeah, I was aiming for a more New Vegas sorta thing, especially when I read the faded stop sign.

Couldn't think up of a good name that sounds like a place named from the remaining letters on a worn down highway sign, though, so that sucks.
>>
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>>1538946
>>A Sawed off shotgun. Its not fancy but you can pulp anyone close enough. Kicks like a motherfucker though.

BOOM
>>
>>1538946
>A Short barreled Carbine. Resembling a long barreled pistol this weapon is perfect for killing a man and the man behind him.
seems pretty cool, thought the Dual Revolvers give off a good vibe as well.
>>
>>1538946
Do we get a melee option as well? Because I'll go for a bowie knife, no problem.
>>
>>1538946
>>A Short barreled Carbine. Resembling a long barreled pistol this weapon is perfect for killing a man and the man behind him.

Much easier to beat someone to death with if you really, really fuck up. Also everyone knows range and accuracy is king.
>>
>>1538989
Who doesn't have a bowie at their side though? Should be standard in my opinion.
>>
>>1538989
You will momentarily
>>
>>1539002
Cool. Tempted to change my vote to beat the tie, but I stand by my love for the revolver.
>>
>>1539008
Shotguns are amazing and Carbines are underrepresented. Too bad no option for a good old bolt action or lever action.
>>
>>1539020
Lever is good for quick shooting, though I personally prefer bolt action. I love my Mosin-Nagant 91/30. She kicks harder than most shotguns.
>>
>>1538946

Jesus Cursed, this many quests is gonna spread you thin man.

>Other (Write in)

Two LeMatt revolvers and a Henry rifle
>>
>>1539020
There will be a melee weapon and a long range option shortly
>>
>>1539033
If I can't handle it ill let yall know :)
>>
>>1539035
Gotcha.
>>
>2 for shotgun

>2 for carbine

>2 for revolver (write in is basically the revolver option)

Tie breaker?
>>
>>1538946
>A Sawed off shotgun.

Because George Miller told me to do it.
>>
>>1539033
Cartridge LeMatts yea? Cause two muzzle loaders would be ridiculous/
>>
>>1539067
I was almost disappointed. Until you name dropped the man himself.
>>
>>1539040

Right, right.

And for those who don't know what a LeMat revolver is here's what it is https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LeMat_Revolver
>>
>Sawed off shotgun wins

Writing
>>
>>1539074
Tldr old school cap and ball revolver. Can shoot buckshot. Not my first choice, but still oozes style. also 42 cal is nothing to sneer at.
>>
>>1539068

Let me have my fun at the idea of it. What WOULD be ridiculous would be dual-wielding pepperboxes
>>
>>1539073
Well, he also told me to buy both DVDs of his dancing penguin movies, so it's not all sunshine and rainbows.
>>
>>1539080
Not even salty. I'm gathering this is modern post apoc yea? I'm gonna hold out for an Ithaca then. Cause slam fire.
>>
The heavy, rounded grip of your trusty sawed off is as comforting to you as an old friend. You think back to the days when these barrels were longer and rode shotgun as a caravan guard. A trusted man who protected important travelers, supplies and good old fashioned money.

That night after you hadn't been quick enough on the draw to stop the deaths of dozens you had cut the barrels and grip down to just over the length of a large pistol. Its inaccurate past knife fighting range but its deadly as hell in practiced hands. In YOUR hands.

You pull a piece of jerky from your jacket pocket and your finger catches on the your...

>Bowie Knife. In matters of slashing, chopping and stabbing the Bowie excells. Not a stealthy weapon however.

>Straight Dagger. Some bandits and men wear mail or leather backed coats. This treats them like tissue paper.

>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.

>Other
>>
>>1539133
>>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.

Ooh boy.
>>
>>1539117
Basically yeah. There's basically a dimensional shift that ends the world and blends the past, present and future together and effectively ends the world.
>>
>>1539137
Time to rip n tear.
>>
>>1539133
>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.
Lemme AXE you a question...

Can we also throw this weapon?
>>
>>1539140
Sounds dope. Wandering evil slayer a go.
>>
>>1539133
>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.
Okay guys, this is gonna sound crazy, but what about...TomahawkS?
>>
>>1539133
>>Bowie Knife. In matters of slashing, chopping and stabbing the Bowie excells. Not a stealthy weapon however.
>>
>>1539147
Tomahawks were used for throwing as a pastime anon. It's pretty lethal, unless you miss then you're out of an extremely lethal close combat weapon.
>>
>>1539133
>>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.

Good for hooking AND chopping? Axes are dope.
>>
>>1539155
You only have one at the moment. But yes anon. You cam get more and you CAN throw them.
>>
>>1539155
A hawk and a boot knife would be more practical.
>>
>>1539133
>Tomahawk. Splitting skulls, chopping bone, general chaos in melee combat.
>>
>>1539147
>>1539155
>>1539163
>>1539180
All these anons picking the patrician choice. Almost warms my heart.
>>
>>1539186
What heart? I thought we lost ours when we got on this site?
>>
>Tomahawk is the clear winner.

Writing
>>
>>1539196
Speak for yourself pal.
>>
>>1539213
Mine was gone before I even had internet.
>>
>>1539213
Okay, so it's just the depression. Awesome.
>>
Your fingers brush along the work, rawhide wrapped handle of your tomahawk. You've had it for years, decades nearly. Pried it from a Ghost Canyon Raiders hand and killed him AND his friends with it. It hasnt really left your side since then. The hard steel head is inscribed with a series of notches along its top done with careful filework. Nearly thirty in all.

There were 2 when you got it.

You tug the lead rope and your faithful..
>Write in Name pls

>Mule. Strong as a Ox and ten times as stubborn. Smarter than they let on.

>Donkey. Not the most noble of companions but tireless and pleasant enough

>Horse. A horse. Duh. Fast and strong but it may single you out as a "rich man"

>Other. Giant lizard? Crawling insect the size of a Horse? Idiot pulling a wagon? I don't give a fuck
>>
>>1539242

Slate.

>Grey donkey. Not the most noble of companions but tireless and pleasant enough
>>
>>1539242
>>Mule. Strong as a Ox and ten times as stubborn. Smarter than they let on.

Hope, named as a joke but she's never given up yet.
>>
>>1539242
Ally
>Other. Giant lizard? Crawling insect the size of a Horse? Idiot pulling a wagon? I don't give a fuck
Bullette
>>
>>1539242
>>Other. Giant lizard? Crawling insect the size of a Horse? Idiot pulling a wagon? I don't give a fuck

>A six foot tall dog.


Kidding.

>Mule. Strong as a Ox and ten times as stubborn. Smarter than they let on.

I'm no good with names.
>>
>>1539242
>>Mule. Strong as a Ox and ten times as stubborn. Smarter than they let on.
>>
>>1539259
It's cool, I picked one for us anon.
>>
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>>1539248
>>1539256
>>1539259
>>1539260
We have the chance to have D&D monsters as steeds and we go with something from the normal Equine family?
>>
>>1539277

Well fine then
>Other. Giant lizard? Crawling insect the size of a Horse? Idiot pulling a wagon? I don't give a fuck

Centaur named Bill.
>>
>>1539277
Because lizards are cold blooded ya dingus, snow? useless. A mule can travel just about anywhere and is mean as fuck. Calm your skeleton tits.
>>
>>1539242


>Other. Giant lizard? Crawling insect the size of a Horse? Idiot pulling a wagon? I don't give a fuck

Chimera
>>
>>1539277
Have you ever seen the cold hatred in the eyes of a mule, man? They know they're sterile. They hate it. Also there's a reason the saying is "kicks like a mule" instead of "kicks like a horse".

I don't know the reason, but there is one, surely.
>>
>>1539277
Fiiiiiine

Clay Mule Golem. It's a golem that was made in the shape of a mule from fresh evermoist red clay. It can twist and mold its form, but it cannot get wet, lest your legs get suck inside of it.
>>
>Mule Named Slate wins.

Writing
>>
>>1539305
Because a horse generally will give off warning signs before it tries to kill you. Mules will just kick your head off if it doesn't like you.
>>
>>1539304
Thank you. Imagine it. Triple boops on snoots.
>>1539307
That's a good one, tireless and can defend our products and belongings.
>>
You pull the lead rope gently, then more forcefully as the ever stubborn presence on the other side behaves like an asshole. Again.

"Slate get your ass up here you Dick" you growl, chewing the heavily salted jerky as the Mule take several steps, still remaining at twice than arms length.

The malignant intelligence behind those brown eyes says the mules thoughts clearly

Sighing with a huff of "ducking typical" you remind yourself if you shoot slate you'll have to carry all your shit on YOUR back. Digging into the high piled saddle bags you search for your bottle of Cat-oil. In the search for the favored skin ointment you knock your elbow on the butt of your...

>Lever action Rifle. The crude scope atop this medium caliber rifle serves well enough as long as they don't move and aren't too far away. Fast firing and excellent at medium range.

>Bolt action Rifle- The long metal tube of the scope on this rifle is town-made and the quality shows. Its a long, bulky weapon but you can shoot a gnats balls off.

>Crossbow. Not the longest ranged weapon but its quiet, decently powerful for its size and you can recover your ammunition easily.

>Other. Suggestions welcome
>>
>>1539405
>>Bolt action Rifle- The long metal tube of the scope on this rifle is town-made and the quality shows. Its a long, bulky weapon but you can shoot a gnats balls off.

I'm gonna say we're a pretty big dude, what with the emphasis on shotguns and axe, but sometimes a scope is needed.
>>
>>1539405
>>Bolt action Rifle- The long metal tube of the scope on this rifle is town-made and the quality shows. Its a long, bulky weapon but you can shoot a gnats balls off.
>>
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>>1539405
>Bolt action Rifle- The long metal tube of the scope on this rifle is town-made and the quality shows. It's a long, bulky weapon but you can shoot a gnat's balls off.
>>
>>1539405
>>Lever action Rifle.

Are bows and arrows an option in this universe as well?
>>
>>1539428
Other would work for a bow. That could be a great choice. Didn't think of it.
>>
>>1539428
He did say that past, present and future are all combined into a low-fantasy setting.

So yeah?
>>
>>1539428
Yup. Other is just whatever you fuckers think of
>>
>>1539405
>>Bolt action Rifle- The long metal tube of the scope on this rifle is town-made and the quality shows. Its a long, bulky weapon but you can shoot a gnats balls off.

First for a Gewehr.
>>
>>1539405
You know what? fuck it. Changin my vote to bow. We have a hawk for close range, shotgun for mid, let's go silent for hunting. Could be our other focus when we weren't guarding caravans.
>>
>Bolt Action rifle wins by a.... Long shot.

Badum-tisss
>>
>>1539464
Two drums and a cymbal fall off a cliff.
>>
>>1539460
>sawn-off shotgun
>mid-range

U wot? If we had a full-size shotgun then sure, I could maybe see that, but a sawn-off is effective about as far out as a few meters.
>>
>>1539474
Mid range compared to an axe anon.
>>
>>1539460
Look at this anon. Assuming there are caravans out here in the Wasteland.

I kid. I kid. There are lots of them and the men (and other things) that attack them are pretty fucking nasty
>>
>>1539474
That is mid range for us. Not long distance, not melee.
>>
>>1539464
Hah.
>>
>>1539481
I was gonna say...we used to be a guard for a caravan. It was in our backstory that got picked.
>>
>>1539482
That would be short-ranged, not mid-ranged.

>>1539480
You could kill just as reliably with a tomahawk as you could with a sawn-off at the same ranges if you were actually good at throwing the thing. Sawn-offs really are only good for a short range outside of melee.
>>
>>1539507
Tomahawks were thrown for fun as a test of skill, in a pitched battle you wouldn't want your main close combat weapon stuck in the bones of an enemy.
>>
>>1539513
A shotgun can be reloaded. A thrown weapon needs to be retrieved.
>>
"Fucking funnybone motherfucking fuck" you yelp, rubbing the offending nerve. You shift your rifle, drawing it and looking through the scop to make sure the glass is still in focus after the rough country you just came through.

You picked the rifle up in a small town named Jekoba. Fine gunsmiths there but few men who had the heart to them. You doubt any of them are still alive to be honest. You slide the rifle back in its case and step back, the glint of metal catching your eye as your traveling mirror falls out of your pack.

Picking it up and looking into it reveals a....
>Outfit time.

>Long black coat, red bandanna, black hat. Worn jeans and a pair of boots. Comfortable and stylish.

>A mail backed leather vest over a cotton shirt under a thin, waist length coat over canvas pants and cracked, split boots. A wanderers outfit

>write in.
>>
>>1539520
>>Long black coat, red bandanna, black hat. Worn jeans and a pair of boots. Comfortable and stylish.
>>
>>1539495
That was waaayyyy back east however. Were in the wastes now where shit gets WEIRD.
>>
>>1539513
Most people had a knife as well as a tomahawk. And sometimes it is preferable to throw the axe rather than hold onto it. There is no perfect choice for every situation.
>>
>>1539520
>>A mail backed leather vest over a cotton shirt under a thin, waist length coat over canvas pants and cracked, split boots. A wanderers outfit

Practical. Some discomfort is better than an easy death.
>>
>>1539530
I said earlier that you will have the opportunity to purchase additional gear and weapons.
>>
>>1539535
I know. I'm just giving my opinion on the matter.
>>
>>1539530
I'd rather keep my hawk over a knife thanks. And this is a quest where we aren't bristling with weapons, so far we don't have a backup melee weapon. Throwing your main backup weapon, when you have a sawed off and a rifle with a fragile scope is suicidal. Can't well use that rifle as a club when you need the scope for tons of other things.
>>
>>1539520
>>A mail backed leather vest over a cotton shirt under a thin, waist length coat over canvas pants and cracked, split boots. A wanderers outfit

Needs a hat of some kind, though. Ballcap or cowboy. Either one is good.
>>
>>1539520
>A mail backed leather vest over a cotton shirt under a thin, waist length coat over canvas pants and cracked, split boots. A wanderers outfit
>>
>>1539524
I love weird, reminds me of fallout.
>>
>>1539550
Let's say there's a guy with a spear, and spears are fucking deadly as hell, and you already used your shotgun and need to reload. You're actually safer throwing the tomahawk at him rather than attempting to close the distance. Because spears are wicked fucking fast. And if I had to choose between clubbing someone and breaking my scope rather than risking getting impaled or some shit, I would take it.

Keep in mind scopes are helpful but not 100% necessary. Scope glint can give you away like a motherfucker in any brightly lit wide-open expanse like a desert or wasteland. And as long as you have sharp eyes and good skills you can still bullseye a man sized target from very far away.

I'm not saying you're wrong but there isn't always going to be a clear cut solution to everything. Sometimes it's better to take a gamble.
>>
You look at yourself momentarily, the reflection showing you a far different one than the one that left Rhyolite all those years ago.

Your jacket doesnt keep out the cold of the wasteland nights but it keeps the sun off of you. Mostly. Your hat is old, sweatstained cotton in the "cowboy" style, a leather band running around the rim. Under the jacket is a mail backed vest, perfect for keeping out claws, blades and comfort. Your pants are often patched canvas over a pair of cracked leather , held together with nails and glue. You smile into the mirror, weathered skin crackling slightly as you do. Its been a long road but you've survived and come off better for it.

>Stat list incoming
>>
>>1539605
Then you back up and reload that shotgun, or just load. The weapon that kills fastest, that you already have in hand wins. Drop the gun, draw the axe and throw...versus load gun and shoot? What you're describing sounds more like a panic response.
>>
And I never mentioned closing the distance, ever. The hawk is a backup weapon, going full melee in a world of guns is dicey at best. Just not a fan of throwing said backup weapon, and in real life I enjoy throwing knives for fun.
>>
>>1539630
>just back up and load the gun

And the guy who is close enough to close in and start stabbing at you is going to let you? Since the tomahawk is going to be on our belt or otherwise easily accessible yes it will be faster to take it out and throw it. And a sawn-off doesn't need two hands to use, you can still hold it while grabbing the axe. Loading a breech-operated gun isn't exactly easy while running. Not impossible but not easy. And you'd have to turn around to get really running, and turning your back on someone is the dumbest of things you can do if you plan on turning back around, which you would be to shoot him. All that does is give him even more time to charge you and stick you.

>>1539643
Well if you don't plan on closing when a guy with a longer ranged melee weapon is close enough for you to actually consider them an immediate threat then you plan on sitting there and trying not to get stabbed. And blocking thrusts from a small visible object like a spearhead pointed straight at you is difficult because it's small and quick. Even harder since you have a short weapon like a tomahawk.

If you had time to reload you wouldn't consider the tomahawk in the first place.
>>
Dermot MCcade
-Former Caravaner- knows the ins and outs of the deal. +5 to barter rolls.
-Troubled past- Flashbacks to the horrors of his past failures will trouble Dermot in his travels. -5 if encountering dead innocents.
-ShotGun specialist- +5 rolls to combat with a Shotgun
-Long rifle- +5 to rolls with a Bolt action at long range
-Vicious fighter-+5 to melee combat
-Basic armor- reduced damage in melee combat.
-Slates Strong back-Increased carry capacity.
>>
>>1539655
Okay. You're starting to go really hard with this. Enjoy writing paragraphs. Historically people did not throw their axes in battle, it was easier to do other things. I'm not gonna go through anymore hypothetical situations with you, because you have a lot of assumptions about things I never stated. I really just wanna enjoy a gritty post-apoc quest because I was raised partially on Mad Max.
>>
>>1539666
Equipment list-
1 Sawed off Double barreled shotgun. 2 round capacity. 12ga.
60 shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 rounds
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
3 days water.
1 week of food.
Small shovel
Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
>>
>>1539666
This is awesome. Almost seems like a balanced character.
>>
>>1539692
Holy shit. We have a bedroll and rope? Set for life.
>>
>>1539683
People throw shit in battle all the fucking time, what are you smoking? There are weapons explicitly designed for it. And they are perfectly viable to be used in that fashion.

You act like there are a billion billion options in a set situation when there are only three or four.
>>
>>1539704
Okay. Stop. Read where I implied I'm done with the argument. I wanna enjoy the quest now.
>>
>>1539715
No. You're an idiot.
>>
>>1539692
Mind if I request something small?

Small bottle of cheap whiskey, with a name like "Captain Dale's sippin' whiskey".
>>
>>1539726
Gotcha. Enjoy yourself. I'm gonna be over here, enjoying myself.
>>
>Okay now the Quest can begin in earnest

You cluck your tongue at Slate, pulling the lead rope gently.
"Come on you fuck"

The ever stubborn Mule resists for a moment before trotting along behind you at a sedate pace. From the directions you got back in Fresco you should be nearing the small settlement of Daston. You think you could be there within the next day or two and begin thinking of setting up camp.

You look across the long, empty trail ahead of you and cast an eye at the rapidly sinking sun.

You could alway push on through the night and get there tomorrow however and run the risk of running into one of the wastes nighttime inhabitants

>Set up camp (D100)

>Push on through the night (D100)
>>
>>1539737
No issue, ill add in some shit I forgot because im a moron
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>1539755

>Set up camp (D100)
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>1539755
>Set up camp (D100)
>>
>>1539752
See, I know you're an idiot because only an idiot says "I'm done arguing" then still tries to get the last word in. If you were done arguing you'd stop responding wholesale, but here you are, being an idiot.
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>1539755
>>Set up camp (D100)

Do we choose AND roll at the same time, or do we choose first, then roll?

Putting dice just in case.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>1539755
>Set up camp (D100)
>>
>>1539692
1 Sawed off Double barreled shotgun. 2 round capacity. 12ga.
60 shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 rounds
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
3 days water.
1 week of food.
1 Small bottle of Captain Dales sipping whiskey
Firestarter
Wallet containing
-16 gold Shines
-23 silver Clings
-11 cupper Dulls
Small shovel
Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
1 bottle Cat-oil (elusive)
>>
>>1539772
>>1539752
Yall be nice plz
>>
>>1539774
I think it's choose and roll.
>>
>>1539786
Shines, clings and dulls. Nice. Like it.
>>
>>1539788
No worries.
>>
>>1539788
It's just friendly shitposting. Gotta keep niggas on their toes, keep em sharp.
>>
Capt'n Dale's sippin' whiskey
"The burnin in your sinuses mean's its high quality!"
>>
>>1539807
Of course. If it doesn't peel paint off the wall just by existing it isn't real wasteland whiskey.
>>
>>1539820
The battery acid is just for color.
>>
>78. Set up camp.

You decide that walking through this desert of the weird at night is a bad idea. Hitching Slate to a dead tree you begin gathering dry wood and tinder, forming a small ring of stones against a small stone outcropping beneath a fallen billboard advertising something called "-oca-Co-" in large red letters.

You set your bedroll up against the rock outcrop and light your fire, feeding the hungry flame with shredded sagebrush and twigs, building up to bigger chunks, the bone dry wood burning smokelessly. You pull your hat over your eyes and lay your shotgun across your lap, falling asleep in moments.

>The next morning

You stretch, yawning loudly as cramped muscle twinges. You gnaw on a chunk of jerky as you feed Slate a few cups of oats and molasses chunks. The high energy feed is perfect out here. As you "enjoy" a breakfast of jerky, dried fruit and water you scan the horizon. To your west, somewhere along the road is Dayton, one of the better wasteland settlements.

But a bit closer to you to the southwest a greasy trail of black smoke crawls upward, curving in the wind.

>Continue on to Daston (D100)

>Investigate the Mysterious Fire (D100)
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>1539828
>>Investigate the Mysterious Fire (D100)

With our background it's not even a choice.
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>1539828
>>Investigate the Mysterious Fire (D100)
Plooooooot hoooooooooooooook
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>1539828
Investigate the Mysterious Fire (D100)
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>1539828
>>Investigate the Mysterious Fire (D100)

>tfw there are over two-dozen daytons in the US, plus a fort with the same name
>plus one in Australia and one in Canada
>>
>>1539851
I meant Daston. My phone likes to correct me
>>
You sigh. Odds are its one of three things. A trap. A bunch of caravaners got waylaid or some idiot is burning tarwood and rubber and is about to get himself shot in the face for being an idiot.

You aren't sure which is going to ruin your day more.

You mount up on Slate, the grouchy Mule snorting slightly as you untie the reins and kick his ribs.

"Heeyah you shit!" you shout, coat flapping as he breaks into a earth shaking gallop. The fire is only a few miles away and you get there within the hour, the dust flying high behind you.

The Smoke is coming over a ridge only a hundred or so yards off the road, multiple tracks and footprints headed that way and none returning.

You leap off of Slate and loop his lead around a convenient rusted out post, the Beast panting slightly in the dry heat.

Crawling quickly to the top of the Ridge you peer over carefully, keeping your head low.

Shit. Shit fire and piss barbed wire.

A group of 5 men stand around a burning wagon, crates and barrels piled high while the driver, his wagon team and guard lay dead, scalped and in the beasts case, Butchered.

You sigh, shaking your head. It just HAD to be bandits.

>Head back down and get your rifle, take some potshots (D100+5)

>Sneak around their rear and fire into them from behind and in cover (D100+5)

>Shotgun and Tomahawk in hand, wade into the middle of them (D100+5)

>Leave. Theyre dead and you can't do anything about it.
>>
>>1539881
>Sneak around their rear and fire into them from behind and in cover (D100+5)
>>
Rolled 1 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1539881
>>Head back down and get your rifle, take some potshots (D100+5)

Last lucky asshole gets to live. He'll be down a leg or two, but he'll get to live.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>1539881
>>Sneak around their rear and fire into them from behind and in cover (D100+5)
>>
File: Kill Me.jpg (30 KB, 636x523)
30 KB
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>>1539901
>>
>>1539901
Guess who killed Slate?
>>
>>1539914
If we get a clay mule golem out of this, then I won't feel as bad.

Pissed, yes. Bad, not so much.
>>
Rolled 35 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1539881
Head back down and get your rifle, take some potshots (D100+5)
>>
Rolled 18 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1539881
>Sneak around their rear and fire into them from behind and in cover (D100+5)
LOOT
>>
Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck.

You turn and slide back down the ridge, you'll be needing your rifle for this. Unbeknownst to you a rock was knocked loose on the other side and went bouncing its merry way down the ridge. You reach Slate and just as you put your hand on the stock of the rifle a Gunshot rings out, puffing the dust by your feet. You turn your head and see three men walking standings atop the ridge while another 2 slide down. You see 2 pistols, a shotgun and a Old lever action among them and don't like your odds at all

"Why dontcha just take your hands off'n that there rifle? Id hate to splatter your brains all over that fine piece of mule flesh you got there "

You raise your hands, eying the men carefully. Young yes. Badly equipped yes. Stupid? Probably. You grit your teeth as the two youngest approach, one wielding a rusted out old pistol and the other armed with a notched bowie

>Draw and blow one away, using the other as a human shield to you can get to cover (D100)

>Grab the knife, Kill the Gunwielder, use his pistol against the others (D100)

>Shoot the 2 closest ones and jump on Slate, get the fuck out of here (D100)

>Other
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>1539941
>>Draw and blow one away, using the other as a human shield to you can get to cover (D100)
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1539941
>Draw and blow one away, using the other as a human shield to you can get to cover (D100)
>>1539947
NEAR RECOVERY
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>1539941
>>Grab the knife, Kill the Gunwielder, use his pistol against the others (D100)
>>
"Easy there buddy. How about'chu hand me that there Scattergun 'afore you blow yer hand off" says the pistol wielder, a boy of no more than sixteen with a smattering of whore-sores around his mouth amid his abundant acne

"What? This one?"
Quick as a flash you draw, the barrels coming to a rest just under his chin in the hollow of his scrawny throat. With a booming report the first barrel discharges, the heavy shot ripping through throat, spine and back the other side.

Before the boys head has hit the ground you reverse the grip, smashing aside the knife wielders blade amid his shout of "Jimmy!" the anguished cry cutting off with a deep crunch as the butt breaks his hand like an egg. Hooking a arm around his throat you begin sidestepping, small load bullets thunking home in the boys bony chest, blood spurting from his lips as you dive behind a nearby rusted out old "Auto-Mobile", bullets plunking from the metal sides and roof.

>Grab Pistol, Return fire (D100)

>Make another run, Grab the rifle, return to cover (D100)

>Open fire with the remaining barrel, at this range your bound to hit somebody just not where you aim. (D100)
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>1539973
>>Grab Pistol, Return fire (D100)
It's a piece of shit, but better range than the sawn-off.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>1539973
>>Grab Pistol, Return fire (D100)
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>1539973
>Open fire with the remaining barrel, at this range your bound to hit somebody just not where you aim. (D100)
>>
File: 1336454291792.jpg (54 KB, 431x415)
54 KB
54 KB JPG
>>1539983
>>
>>1539983
ANON WITH THE SAVE
>>
>>1539983
Well ALRIGHTY THEN
>>
File: 99 nobles.jpg (175 KB, 796x594)
175 KB
175 KB JPG
>>1539983
I love it when I get to use this folder of reaction images!
>>
You risk a glance over the top of the rusted out hulk and smile in glee. There damn near within spitting distance and standing clumped up like a bunch of scared chickens. You guess they'd never seen one of their buddies literally get his head blown off and then they shot the youngest if their number to death by accident.

"Hey boys!" you yell cheekily, swinging the heavy barreled shotgun over the top. You don't even bother to aim, just pointing it in the general direction of the group and squeezing the trigger.

As always the recoil nearly shatters your wrist. The deafening report and cloud of thick blue smoke kill your senses for a moment before it clears.

Over the ringing in your ears you can hear screams of pain and curses of pure, wounded pain. Peering over the top again you spy one bandit-boy laying very still, chest spread open, one rolling around clutching the stump of an arm and one holding a both hands (both very white) against the side of his throat.

Standing over the young men you can't help but feel pitiful. Not a one is older than nineteen and that's being generous. The now righthanded one peers up at you with eyes glazed by agony as his lifeblood seeps away.

"Now why did you have to go and do stupid shot like this for kid" you spit onto his chest, reloading your shotgun before holstering it. His pistol is 6 feet away still clutched in his hand. You feel safe.

"Fuck you wander'r... We had us... A good thing going... Till yer hoss fuckin ass showed up... Go to hell and go there thirsty..."

>Blow his head off

>Cut his throat and scalp him. That light blonde hair will be proof of a kill if there's a bounty.

>Let him bleed out and the buzzards have him

>Also search for loot Y/N
>>
>>1540007
>>Cut his throat and scalp him. That light blonde hair will be proof of a kill if there's a bounty.

>Search him for loot

Gotta be something of worth in a raider camp
>>
>>1540007
"Because people need to be safe, specially in times like this. No place for people to hunt their own kind."
>Cut his throat and scalp him. That light blonde hair will be proof of a kill if there's a bounty.
>Also search for loot Y
>>
>>1540007
Drag him to the fire and let him cook.

Also fuck yeah, loot them. Grab that bowie and the lever action.
>>
>>1540007
>Cut his throat and scalp him. That light blonde hair will be proof of a kill if there's a bounty.
>>
"Because you little shit. People deserve to be able to travel safely on these roads without having to worry about being murdered by their own fellow man. There's worse things to worry about out here."

Kneeling you pull the boys shiny, nicked blade from its belt, sliding the sharp steel through the sweaty skin of his throat until the crimson blood flows. Before the light even leaves his eyes you grab a hand of his hair in your fist, sawing back on forth though the skin of his scalp as his feet drum in the dust. With a wet *Squelch* you pop the hair free and cut free a large square of the boys shirt, wrapping it tightly.

Digging through their pockets and saddlebags reveals a decent haul of supplies.
>Take 4.
>Coinpurse with-
>7 Gold Shines
>13 Sliver Clinks
>2 Copper Dulls.
>2 Weeks food.
>5 Days water + Extra canteen
>Carbine. .357 +11 rounds for it.
>Rusted Shotgun. 12ga +8 rounds
>×2 Rusted Pistols. .32. +17 rounds.
>Notched Bowie
>Leaders Bowie
>Caravaners Machete
>>
>>1540066
Forgot to add
>Little Shit's scalp
>>
>>1540066
>>7 Gold Shines
>>13 Sliver Clinks
>5 Days water + Extra canteen
>Leaders Bowie

Too many weapons will slow us down
>>
>>1540069
The coinpurse counts as 1 item I was just telling you what was in it.
>>
>>1540066
>Coinpurse
>Carbine
>Leaders Bowie
>5 Days water + Extra canteen

Bury the rest of the stuff and mark the spot with a head on a rock or some other way to show that it's a cashe.
>>
>>1540071
Ah

then

>Coinpurse
>Water
>L. Bowie
>Food
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

1.
>>1540084

2.
>>1540086
>>
>>1540091
Oh yeah, do we automatically add in the ammo from the bandits rusty shotgun to our belt?
>>
>Gained Bowie
>Gained Carbine.
>Gained 7 Shines. 13 Clinks and 2 Dulls
>Gained +5 Days water + Extra canteen

You buckle the blonde youths knife to your belt after wiping the blade on his shirt, the hank of hair safely tucked into your back pocket. You sling the short lever action carbine over your back by its strap and buckle on the small gunbelt that goes with it to your thigh. The large canteen goes over your shoulder by its strap, still mostly full by your guess. And last but not least is a decently full coinpurse that is dumped into your own wallet and and thrown away.

The rest of the loot (minus the food) is dumped into a hole under a rock and marked with the bloody head of "Jimmy". After burying the bodies of the Caravaner and his guard and leaving the severed heads of "The little Shit gang" on wooden posts on the roadside you make camp for the night. The food makes a delicious dinner of (slightly) fresh salted meat and some pickled vegetables. They even had some tobacco the lucky bastards. You roll up a cigarette with the meager remains and puff on it until you fall asleep.

In the morning you stretch comfortably, having slept well on the tattered remains of the bandits horseblankets. You rise and eat a small breakfast of leftovers from last night, finishing off your leftovers. You think you could make it to Daston before it got too late in the afternoon if nothing happened

>-1 Day food and Water

>Will anything happen (D100)

>Do something else (What? D100)
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>1540112
>Will anything happen (D100)
>>
Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>1540112
>>Will anything happen (D100)
>>
>Well have to resume this tomorrow amigos! Its 2am here and in beat. Goodnight!
>>
You continue your endless walk across this burned out husk of a world with a full belly and a heaver wallet. There was once a day where you would have shirked from killing such young men, scalping one and then leaving their heads on posts.

That day is LONG past.

the miles melt away beneath your feet as the road becomes visibly more traveled and outlying homes and ranches begin appearing. The homes are protected by high walls of mud brick and sheet metal and on a ranches watchtower you catch the glint of a scope in the bright sunlight.

Seems youre being watched.

No matter, you've had guns and eyes pointed at you before. You cluck to Slate with your tongue, urging the Mule along as Daston comes into view.

As wasteland Towns go its a lively place. The road runs straight through the town through a large gate lined with spikes and sheets of metal. Men wander along the top or sit its shade, armed with long rifles and crossbows.
People are visible walking through the streets within, wagons and animals making up the traffic.

The smells of smoke, unwashed people and shit already reaching your nostrils and you grimace.

"Back to civilization" you spit into the dust, eying the men hanging from ropes along the towns brick and sheet metal wall. Wooden signs nailed to their chests read in red sloppy letters "Cattel Russlerz"

"By the loosest definition"

Nearing the Gate one of the guards finally takes notice and approaches, hand on the grip of what looks like a single shot handcannon

"Hey there wander'r. What business ye got in Daston? We don't got no tolerance for troublemakers"
With a gesture towards the boots swinging along the wall he grins, showing muddy brown teeth
"So don't be causing none. Ya hear? Now Whats yer damn business. Sheriff likes to keep a log"

If this sheep fucker can write you'd die of shock right here but you REALLY dont want to get into a shootout here.

>Just passing through. Thought Id drop by and do a little trading, a little whoring and sleep in a actual bed.

>Looking for work. Im a gunslinger and I got a scalp that may have a bounty attached to it (show weapons and unwrap the scalp)

>Eat dust townie. Im just passing through and Ive been doing your sheriffs job for him. Where can I get a drink that doesn't have piss in it.

>Other
>>
>>1540573
>Looking for work. I'm a gunslinger and I got a scalp that may have a bounty attached to it (show weapons and unwrap the scalp)
>>
>>1540573
>Other

look for work, maybe ranching or a deputy if needed?
>>
Any other anons want to work?
>>
>>1540601
*Vote

That was a weird autocorrect
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1.
>>1540581

2.
>>1540589
>>
"Just looking for work. Wallets feeling a bit light for my liking and I know there's always work for a man willing to do it in towns like this" you say smoothly, looking the guard in his bloodshot eyes.

"Well ain't that just impress've. Not a lot of men these days got the back or heart for work. Lazy buncha layabouts!" he spits on the ground, phlegm mixed with blood, gesturing at his fellow guard snoozing in the shade

Irony at its finest.

"So what kinda work are ye looking fer? Ranch hands are always wanted, pays shit but you can come an go as ye please between work seasons. We got a few openings fer deputies if'n ye can sweettalk the sheriff. And if yer any good with them hot-irons then there's a Marshall's office with some bounties up. Take yer pick and welcome to Daston stranger "

You shake the mans bony hand and lead Slate into the town, eying the dusty buildings filled with dustier people. You hitch Slate to a post by a water trough (shockingly full of clean water) in front of a Squat, long building with a sign over it reading
"Jenerul Stoor". The armed guard out front will likely dissuade any of the street urchins from stealing from your saddlebags.

>Head to the Sherrifs office. Big building with a Star over it.

>Head down to the Marshall's office. Small building with a Skull and dollar sign over the door.

>Ask about getting work as a ranch hand. Try the tavern maybe?

>Head into the store. Do some trading.

>Other (Describe what youre looking for and ill see if the town has it)
>>
>>1540620
>Head down to the Marshall's office. Small building with a Skull and dollar sign over the door.
>>
go to the marshals office, find the bounty board and then try to talk the marshal up from the agreed price
>>
Your boots knock dust from the worn boards of the walkway as you make your way down to the Marshall's office.

It doesn't matter how far humanity goes or falls. Someone will pay money for someone else to die. Its the one constant. Besides whores. Theyre the other.

The Marshall's office is a small building, three men standing out front seem to be debating going in, the rusted out pistols showing that they are fledgling bounty hunters, probably about to take their first job.

You nod at them before knocking at the door, waiting for your invitation
"Come on in ye fucker. Don't let the dust in I just swept up" growls a gravelly voice from within.

You knock your boots against the doorframe, stepping in carefully before you close the door behind you.

The Marshall is seated behind a worn wooden desk, feet on the top and reclining in his chair. A squat iron safe sits behind him. To his left on the wall is a ancient corkboard with multiple bounty sheets pinned to it.

He is a man of average height, slightly heavyset with the skull and dollar sign of a Marshall pinned to his black vest.

He tips his head to you and pulls the large pipe from his mouth, looking at you blearily with one good eye, the other a gaping scarred socket.

"Afternoon stranger. In Marshall Weathers. What can I do fer ye" he rumbles, knocking ash from his pipe before repacking it.

>In looking for work if you've got any. What bounties do you have out?

>Ive got a scalp here that may have a bounty on it. Bunch of hoodlums on the road ransacked a wagoner.

>other
>>
Anybody here?
>>
>Not doing Dual Revolvers

YOU ALL HAVE FORGOTTEN THE FACES YOUR FATHERS.

https://youtu.be/QK9LpM7qmJY
>>
>>1540683
>Ive got a scalp here that may have a bounty on it. Bunch of hoodlums on the road ransacked a wagoner.
>>
>>1540683
>Ive got a scalp here that may have a bounty on it. Bunch of hoodlums on the road ransacked a wagoner.

>You know of any caravans stopping by here that need a guard, or where to find them?
>>
>>1540683
Basically what >>1540772 said.
>>
>Sorry for the delay. Had to go do stuff IRL. Anybody still here?
>>
>>1541186

I'm here
>>
>>1541186
Yo
>>
>>1541186
Yup.
>>
You reach behind your back wordlessly, smiling slightly as the old Marshall's hand twitches toward the underside of the desk and chuckle
"Just pulling out proof of a kill sir. Try not to kill me yet"

The Marshall's eye glitters and crinkles at the edges and he nods, impressive moustache twitching slightly.
"Lets see it then boyo. Might have a few coins for it if'n hes from around here"

You pull the slightly bloodstained scrap of shirt out from your back pocket, unwrapping the tight layers one by one until its interior is revealed. You set the hank of white- blond hair and red scalp down on tie Marshall's desk, watching his eye carefully.
"Well id prefer the rest of him for proof to be honest. But Ive made do with less before. Young man was he? Bout eighteen or nineteen?" he asks gruffly, inspecting the lump of tissue and hair

"Yep, him and four other boys. Seemed to be the leader so I scalped him and left his and the others on sticks" you reply smoothly, already hearing the coins jingle in your mind.

"Carried a short gripped carbine? Skull carved on the side?" he asks again, moustache twitching with faintest smile.

"Yep. A fair few notches on it as well. Ive got it on my mule if you want to look." you can't help but grin now.

"Green eyes? You musta got close to scalp him so I doubt you didn't see them bright green eyes he was known for" the Marshall's hand creeps under the desk at this.

You stop, thinking back to the dying boys eyes.

"Blue. Blue as the sky before I closed em forever" you reply honestly

The Marshall grins. You've passed the test it seems.

"This'n here was Aaron Young. "Young Snowtop" they called him on account of this purty white hair. Small timer with a few other lowlifes with him from what we heard. He run oft after we hung his pa and older brother for cattle rustling. Ill give you twenty Shines for him.

>Twenty shines will do. Shake the mans hand and ask about another Bounty.

>Hold up hold up. I killed his whole gang too. They goats be worth something extra. (haggle, D100+5)

>Other
>>
Rolled 20 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1541232
>Hold up hold up. I killed his whole gang too. They goats be worth something extra. (haggle, D100+5)
>>
Rolled 60 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1541232
>>Hold up hold up. I killed his whole gang too. They goats be worth something extra. (haggle, D100+5)

Can we get a bonus to roll if we can direct him to the ambush site?
>>
>>1541247
Yes you can. Ill add another +5 if you can write in what you tell him about the gangs location
>>
>>1541262
Well, it's southeast from here by about a day, nearby an old wrecked "Auto-Mobile" thing. There's about four heads on posts, one head on a rock. That boy, whore's sores around the mouth and acne all over his face, was called Jimmy. As an added bonus, there's what remains of their armory under the rock where Jimmy's sitting.
>>
>>1541232
Damnit im a retard. Twenty CLINKS. Not twenty Shines. Twenty shines is quite a bit of cashola
>>
>>1541295
Another +5 it is.

Writing
>>
"Hold up there Marshall. I don't want to sound greedy but I killed his whole damn gang too. If you don't believe me about a days ride southeast of here there's 4 heads on posts and one on a rock. ONE of those heads formerly belonged to Young Snowtop. The head on the rock is called Jimmy sonethin' or other. Under that rock is what's left of their loot and gear. Send a man out to check if you don't believe me but I feel I deserve a bit more than twenty shines. I won't take less than thirty." you finish, lightly smacking the surface of the desk as you lean forward. You put your life on the line Damnit. You deserve a little extra.

The Marshall regards you with his one good eye for a moment, moustache twitching as he thinks. Finally he nods and turns, withdrawing a key from his pocket and unlocking the safe. From where you sit you catch the glimpse of dozens of coins of every kind. A small fortune lays within.

He carefully counts out thirty Shines, biting one at random every so often to show their legitimacy before pushing the small pile into a small leather bag and sliding it over to you.

"Thirty is plenty fair payment for getting rid of those scum. Sorry for short changing you. Ill send a man by tomorrow to check and make sure your telling the truth though. Stay in town till he gets back or ill have a paper for you on this wall here" he growls with a small smile.

"Wouldn't think of it Marshall. Names Dermot. Dermot MCcade. I have a feeling we're gonna get real familiar with each other" you racy out, shaking the older mans large, knotted hand as you collect your payment.

>+30 Shines.

>Money total
>25 gold Shines
>63 silver Clings
>14 cupper Dulls

>Any other Bounties out?

>Ask the Marshall a question (What?)

>Leave, go to a different building. (General store, Bar, Sherrifs office, Gun store, Stable, whorehouse, inn)
>>
>>1541401
MotherFUCKER I DID IT AGAIN. REPLACE EVERY INSTANCE OF SHINES WITH CLINKS. DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT
>>
>>1541401
>Leave, go to a different building. (General store, Bar, Sherrifs office, Gun store, Stable, whorehouse, inn)
General store
>>
>>1541401
>Any other Bounties out?
>Leave, go to a different building. (Jenerul Stoor, Gun Store)
>>
>>1541431
>>1541443
Ask question or leave? You can ask a question before leaving but not at the same time
>>
>>1541449
Sure.

>You know of any caravans stopping by here that need a guard, or where to find them?
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1.
>>1541431

2.
>>1541460
>>
"Before I go Marshall, I just wanted to know if you knew of any Caravans or convoys headed out that might need a guard? I was a pretty fair hand at the trade when I was younger and Ive only gotten better" you say proudly, hoping that the chance for a paid trip to the next town comes up.

The Marshall chews his pipe as he thinks, twiddling his large thumbs.
"Well i know that Smithers is taking a wagon or two of food and such down to Jacobstown. Shouldn't need a guard but he wouldn't turn you down. Stevenson, hes the Gunstore owner, is sending out three wagons of arms and ammunition down to Kestraya. They've been having troubles with Bandits down there I hear. And the Bank has a outgoing coin-coach headed out. Got nearly a thousand shines on it i heard. They'll definetly be needing as many guards as they can get." he nods vigorously, obviously proud of his mental faculties

>Ask him another question (what)

>Ask about a bounty (three available)

>Leave, go somewhere else. (Where?)
>>
>>1541513
>>Leave, go somewhere else. (Where?)
Gun Store, followed by Bar.
>>
>>1541513
>Leave, go somewhere else. (Where?)
General store, followed by gunstore
>>
>>1541559
Is visiting the General Store, Gun Store, and Bar, in that order sound good to you? Because I'll go for that.
>>
>>1541584
YEP
>>
You shake Marshall Weathers hand again before leaving, nodding to the young men outside as you do. Your wallet is heavier and your back pocket is scalp free.

Time do some shopping

You nod to the armed guard out front, a sour faced man armed with a four barreled scattergun. He grunted, chewing some kind of green weed. His positively atrocious breath nearly knocks you backward and you wince at the stink.

You hold your breath and step inside the poorly lit general store. Behind the counter a rather fat man with a tiny moustache and beard is polishing a small timepiece with a oil cloth.

various pieces of equipment and junk litter the walls and shelves. Tools, food, drink, rope of all kind, traps and dozens of other things are available.

"Welcome welcome Stranger. I see ya met Minty out front eh? Smells sweet don't he? HAHAHA he chews that mint like its candy but he still smells like a muties rotten ass. What can I get fer ya my friend what can I get ya?"

>write in what Youre after. Ill see if its in the stores inventory and give you the prices.
>>
>>1541710
Yknow what. Fuck it. Ill write down the inventory and post it.
>>
>>1541710
"What, how much're you selling toothbrushes n' toothpaste for if he can't buy one?

A map of the local area, a cheap bottle of booze (Coconut Beach Bahamian Rum), a first aid kit, and some painkillers. Oh, and a travel size toothbrush/toothpaste kit.
>>
>Medium Extra canteen-+3 days supply of water-3 Clinks
>Large Extra canteen-+5 days water-8 Clinks
>Machete- good for brush clearing and melee combat- 10 Clinks
>Hand Axe. Better for wood chopping than your Tomahawk-10 clinks
>Large Shovel- for digging graves and digging roots, good for both.-8 Clinks
>100ft rope-Need to hang somebody or just do a lot of tying up? Thisll do. 5 Clinks.
>Lantern + small can of oil.-Your light in the darkness. -5 Clinks
>Box of matches. Theyre matches. -1 clink
>Small trap set. Good for catching elusive rodents and small children. -5 Clinks.
>Medium Trap set. For larger vermin and annoying trespassers. -10 Clinks
>Large Trap set. For the big beastie you want alive for some reason. -20 Clinks.
>Rawhide strips. You can chew through rope. Not these. -5 Clinks
>Dried Meat and Fruit + pickled Vegetables. 1 week supply each. -5 Clinks each.
>1 Large bag Mule Fodder. Keep slate happy and full and he may not kill you. -3 Clinks each.

>please put in a cost total because my counting skills are shire
>10 Dulls=1 Clink. 10 Clinks = 1 Shine.
>>
>>1541801
Forgot bandages and hygiene kits

>Large First aid kit. Bandages, ointments, liquids of all sort for everything from Snakebites to gunshot wounds. -10 Clinks
>Small First Aid Kit. For cuts and bruises it will do fine. -5 clinks
>Hygiene kit. Toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, nail clippers. Feel fancy on the trail. -3 Clinks
>Map of nearby area. The immediate towns and ranches around the town of Daston along with the nearby landmarks (Op cannot into Maps) -5 Clinks.
>>
>>1541801
2 of:
>>Rawhide strips. You can chew through rope. Not these. -5 Clinks
>>Dried Meat and Fruit + pickled Vegetables. 1 week supply each. -5 Clinks each.
>>1 Large bag Mule Fodder. Keep slate happy and full and he may not kill you. -3 Clinks each.
1 of:
>Large First aid kit. Bandages, ointments, liquids of all sort for everything from Snakebites to gunshot wounds. -10 Clinks
>Small First Aid Kit. For cuts and bruises it will do fine. -5 clinks
>Hygiene kit. Toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, nail clippers. Feel fancy on the trail. -3 Clinks
>Map of nearby area. The immediate towns and ranches around the town of Daston along with the nearby landmarks (Op cannot into Maps) -5 Clinks.
>>
>>1541822
That sounds good to me.
>>
>-4 Shines
>-6 Clinks.

>Gained
>2 sets Rawhide strips. 5ft each.
>2 weeks Dried Meat and Fruit + pickled Vegetables.
>1 Large bag Mule Fodder
>1 Large First aid kit.
>1 Small First Aid Kit.
>1 Hygiene kit.
>1 Map of Daston and immediate area
>>
>>1541840
Oh, yeah. See if there's a pack of cards there too. Bonus points if it's the ones with pin up girls on them.
>>
>>1541859
You're off by another mule fodder, boss.
>>
Updated Equipment list-
1 Sawed off Double barreled shotgun. 2 round capacity. 12ga.
58 12ga shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 .308 rounds. Can be reloaded or purchased
1 Short Gripped Carbine. .357. 6 round capacity
11 .357 rounds
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bowie
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
1 medium canteen 2 days water.
1 Large canteen. 5 Days water.
3 week of food.
Small shovel
2 large Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
2 sets Rawhide strips. 5ft each.
1 Large First aid kit.
1 Small First Aid Kit.
1 Hygiene kit.
1 Map of Daston and immediate area

21 Shines
57 Clinks
14 Dulls.
>>
>>1541871
Well Fuck. We already had a bag of mule fodder so well call it even
>>
You load up your freshly bought supplies onto Slate, the Mules immensely strong back never sagging an inch under the load. If anything he shifts his weight and snorts at you like he expects more.

"Alright you stubborn shit. Ill get some treats for ya next time we find a place that sells em" you scratch behind his ears for a moment, the lumbering Mule leaning into it momentarily

"Snort"

"Yeah yeah I know" you smile as Minty scowls at you from his post by the door. You can smell him from here.

Ok Youre gonna have to move before you puke.

>Gun store

>Bank

>Whorehouse

>Sheriffs office

>Bar

>Inn

>Other
>>
>>1541938
>Gun store
We should get a good revolver and some ammo for it and the carbine. Maybe check to see if they do engravings too.
>>
>>1541947
Engravings are a good idea. In a world where the supernatural and impossible are mixing with the real, symbols become... Powerful.
>>
>>1541961
Also, I think we should get some cold iron knuckledusters.
>>
>>1541947
>>1541979

So gun store it is then?
>>
>>1541987
yeah, that's the plan
>>
>>1541987
Yup. Pretty much.

>>1542000
So what do you think we should get? I was thinking the shotgun should get something that represents our old job guarding caravans. Maybe some sort of stagecoach motif on the handle in ivory? Make it look like a Wells-Fargo commercial?
>>
>>1541979
I'm all for knuckledusters believe me, but we already got that punks Bowie and a Tomahawk, Pretty soon we'll be covered in melee weapons, gonna be crowded hah. Glad to see I passed out and none of ya got us killed though, good rolls.
>>
The Gunstore is a wide, squat building near the Sheriffs office, painted with a metallic Grey green paint and adorned with a sheet metal bullet and target hanging above the door. You knock on the door frame and pull the heavy steel door open, closing it behind you

"Hello there. Welcome to my humble shop. I am Indrigo. Purveyor of fire and lead. Steel and Iron. What may I do for you today?" says the slight, dark skinned man behind the counter. He never once looks up from the book he is reading, a small pair of spectacles low on his nose.

The walls of the Gunstore are positively brimming with weapons and ammunition. Rifles, shotguns, pistols, carbines, bows, crossbows. You even see a small cannon in the back. The building somehow feels... Bigger on the inside and you can't quite tell where its being lit from as the room is windowless and there's not a lantern or candle in sight.

In glass cases along the counter are pistols and other hand weapons covered in engravings and small charms. Knives made of strange metals and grips of bone.

You approach the counter and clear your throat.

>What are you looking for? Inventory list incoming but feel free to suggest things.
>>
>>1542038
How about some leather gloves with reinforced knuckles? Or maybe we could put a small weight in our shotgun handle for pistol whipping!
>>
>>1541987
Thirding gun store. Depending on what we believe in animal engravings might work too. Lot of Indians believed bears to be great protectors. A pissed off bear on our sawed off would look pretty cool.
>>
>>1542054
I need a good pistol in .357, possibly engraved, and some engraving work on my shotgun here. Also, a bit of refurbishment on this carbine I got today, as well as some ammo for the carbine and pistol.

Oh, before I forget, I heard that a Mr. Stevenson might have some work for some experienced caravan guards involving arms and ammo to Kestraya?
>>
>>1542076
.357? How about a 44?
>>
>>1542104
I'm trying to stick with the whole cowboy thing, and .357 can fit in both the carbine and the pistol, lowering our pack weight.
>>
>Normal weaponry. No engravings, charms and magic here.
>.22 Derringer. Perfect for hiding in your boot or up your sleeve. Better shoot them in the heart or the eye. -10 clinks
>.32 caliber Pistol. A good, straight shooting pea shooter. Better be a good shot. -15 Clinks.
>.38 Caliber pistol. Good for sudden gunshots and fast shooting. -20 Clinks
>.357 Pistol. A Hand cannon if there ever was one. Kicks worse than your sawed off but nobody will get back up. -5 shines
>.44 Pistol. For when it absolutely must die. -8 Shines
>12ga shotgun. Pump action for mid range. -2 Shines.
>10ga Break action. If it gets back up after this you don't want to Fuck with -4 shines
>Lever action 16ga. Fast shooting but not the most powerful.-15 Clinks
>.357 Carbine. Excellent for Human and animal alike. 3 Shines
>.44 Carbine. For Big game and bigger Men. -5 shines
>.308 Rifle. You already have one but another couldn't hurt right? -10 Shines
>Bowie Knife. Paired knives are always effective. -10 Clinks
>Wanderers saber- excellent for slashing and stabbing -3 Shines
>Sheath of Throwing knives. For when you want to be quiet without getting close. -10 clinks
>Shortbow. For snapshots at mid range. -2 shines
>Crossbow. For those long shots when you need silence. -3 Shines

>"Special" inventory incoming
>>
>>1542123
But anon, cowboys used .44 too. Has a ton of stopping power.
>>
>>1542136
>>.44 Pistol. For when it absolutely must die. -8 Shines

This a revolver?
>>
>>1542151
Hold on, let's wait for the special inventory first before we vote.
>>
>>1542179
It was just a question...I'll try to hold back on my hardon for 44 revolvers. Try.
>>
>>1542136
Special Inventory. Blessed, cursed, possibly magical and definitely unique.

>Hand of Death. .357 Pistol engraved with Skeletons and the Grim reaper carved into the grip which is suspiciously similar to a human femur. +10 to pistol combat rolls after killing an enemy with this weapon. -15 Shines

>Hawk-Eye. .357 Carbine. You aren't sure what glass the scope of this worn rifle is made from but it shouldn't be able to focus like that. Or blink. +10 to Carbine combat rolls and range is no longer a penalty. -20 Shines

The Thunderer. 12Ga shotgun. The four barrels of this weapon are engraved with designs of storm clouds and lightning bolts. +15 to shotgun combat rolls. -20 Shines

>Indrigos razor- you aren't sure what this ridiculously sharp blade is made of but it shaved off the tips of your fingernails without you noticing. +10 to melee combat rolls. -15 Shines

>Justice. .44 revolver. Just holding this gold and ivory inlaid pistol fills you with a sense of... Righteousness. +15 rolls against evildoers and creatures of the night. -20 Shines

>Red Gods Bite. Sawed off 12ga inlaid with ebony wood and onyx. You feel a deep hate for every living thing just holding it. +15 against "good" and innocents.- 20 Shines

>Any suggestions will be added to Indrigos inventory
>>
>>1542151
Yes it is.
>>
>>1542236
>>Justice. .44 revolver. Just holding this gold and ivory inlaid pistol fills you with a sense of... Righteousness. +15 rolls against evildoers and creatures of the night. -20 Shines

Hnng. Deus Vult in a .44.
>>
>>1542236
Let's see how much engraving the shotgun and refurbishing the carbine would cost before we buy a special gun.

Also, could we get part of our payment our gun of choice if we take the caravan job?
>>
>>1542236
Ammunition prices
>.22. Box of 20- 3 Clinks
>.32. Box of 24- 5 Clinks
>.38. Box of 24- 5 clinks
>.357 box of 24- 10 Clinks
>.44. Box of 24- 10 Clinks
>.308 box of 16. 10 Clinks
>12ga box of 12. 10 Clinks
>10ga Bo of 12. 12 Clinks
>12ga box of 12 slugs. 14 clinks
>10ga box of 12 slugs. 16 clinks
>12 Arrows. Broadhead. 10 clinks
>12 arrows. Piercing. 12 clinks
>10 Bolts. Broadhead. 10 clinks
>10 bolts. Piercing. 12 Clinks.
>>
>>1542273
What are the ideas for engraving?

And you can after you finish up with Indrigo ;).
>>
>>1542293
Either a Native American bear motif or a western stagecoach motif.
>>
>>1542322
What effect will this engraving have? What bonus will it supply?
>>
>>1542331
I would say Bear would give a bonus if we use it to defend a civilian or a place full of em. The Bear defends it's young and all that.
>>
>>1542337
Defending those who can't.
>>
>>1542322
>>1542337
>>1542000

Im gonna run to the store real quick, yall decide what you want to buy.
Your monies
21 Shines
57 Clinks
14 Dulls.
>>
>>1542331
Well, for the Stagecoach, I was thinking of +10 to rolls against bandits and thieves, and improved defense while on a moving vehicle or animal.
>>
>>1542351
Everyone may hate me, but I want Justice. 20 shinies be damned.
>>
File: gun-carvings-1.jpg (406 KB, 690x600)
406 KB
406 KB JPG
>>1542374
I'll give you Justice for the Stagecoach motif. Deal?
>>
>>1542393
Not a fan of the bear? Deal anon. That would look baller as fuck on our shotgun, and you can't deny the awesomeness of a .44 that puts the hurt on things that go bump in the night.
>>
>>1542236
Suggestion:
>Terminus' Hand. A Gauntlet of of stone that seems to shift its exact composition between stone, ore, and amalgamated gravel when you don't look at it. +10 to melee combat rolls when on a "boundary line" -Price up to you
Ask for him to hold onto Justice for a short while.
Buy the Throwing knives and Shortbow, along with 2 sets of Broadhead arrows and 1 set of Piercing arrows.
>>
>>1542393
>Not a fan of the bear?
Yeah. When we get an 1887 Winchester though, it's all yours.

Anyway, we'll need
>.44. Box of 24- 10 Clinks x 2
>.357 box of 24- 10 Clinks x 1
>A box of 12ga slug shells ? Clinks x 1
>Sawn-Off Engraving ? Shines
>Carbine Refurbishment ? Shines
>Justice 20 Shines or partial quest payment (depends on our roll)
>>
>>1542236
Something like this for Justice? Apparently this was the revolver Teddy Roosevelt used to defend Harry Houdini...not sure of the authenticity, but you can't say ol Teddy wasn't a badass.
>>
>>1542458
Ask for him to hold onto Justice for a short while.
Buy the Throwing knives and Shortbow, along with 2 sets of Broadhead arrows and 1 set of Piercing arrows.

This? Or this?
>>1542470
>>
>>1542470
By Carbine Refurbishment what do you want done to it? Its already got a bit of history to it.
>>
>>1542470
This this this. Gimme the Justice.
>>
>>1542495
Pretty much like that just a heavier barrel with a engraved silver Skull over a set of golden Scales on the grip.
>>
>>1542534
I will go with the other one, so long as we get the silent kill option.
>>
>>1542547
Excellent. Can never go wrong with a skull engraving. Unless you go a little too ham with it.
>>
>>1542470
Also Indrigo can't speak on behalf of Mr.Stevenson and vice versa. You'll see why shortly. Indrigos wares are special and the prices are set.
>>
>>1542539
I thought it was rusty and beat down, like the other guns those bandits had. Anyway...

>Ask about the caravan job. If they say yes, ask if we can get Justice and some ammo as part of our pay for helping deliver the guns.

So we're paying for this:
>.357 box of 24- 10 Clinks x 1
>A box of 12ga slug shells ? Clinks x 1
>Sawn-Off Engraving ? Shines

And asking for part of our reward to be this:
>Justice
>.44. Box of 24 x 2
>>
>>1542562
So, you're saying he's the guy we really need to get in with. Since he has all the best shit. Got it. He need any jobs done?
>>
>>1542573
Not on this plane of reality no.
>>
>>1542562
Well, shit. That's a problem.

Let's find out how much the job pays, then request Mr. Indrigo to hold onto Justice until we return with the cash for it.

Also, can he identify the carbine.
>>
So have we reached a decision on what we actually want to buy?
>>
>>1542598
Also your first engraving is a freebie.
>>
>>1542598
Yes, Justice. Also, different planes of reality missions when?
>>
>>1542610
When you find the way to get there or reach an area a bit less... Anchored in reality.
>>
>>1542620
Cool. That sounds like a bag of fun. I still cast my vote with this guy>>1542470
>>
>>1542620
That's when Terminus' Hand (or The Terminalia) could come into use.
>>
>>1542632
Indrigos wares will change every time you meet him with new ones being available every time.
>>
>>1542637
I was referring to finding a place less anchored in reality. Terminus was the Roman god of boundaries, and I just want some item referencing him.
>>
>Gained.
>.44. Box of 24- 10 Clinks x 2
>.357 box of 24- 10 Clinks x 1
>A box of 12ga slug shells 14 Clinks x 1
>Justice -20 Shines

>-44 Clinks
>-20 Shines.

Indrigo smiles as you point out what you want, his slim fingers pulling Justice from its box and pulling up a sturdy, brown gunbelt and holster and sliding the pistol across the slick counter.

"An interesting choice. May you put him to good use. He has a long and illustrious history that I hope you add to." his soft voice echoes through the store, barely above a whisper but carrying the authority of a judge.

You shiver slightly, buckling the gunbelt, savoring the feel of the new leather. Holstering the heavy pistol fills you with a sense of... Purpose.

"Um Indrigo. Do you do engravings by chance? Ive got this old Sawed off here and id like something... Nostalgic on it" you hand over your sawed off butt first, his mouth twitching into a smile.

"Of course I can my friend. All weapons of such history and soul deserve a bit of... Art." his figure suddenly blurs, hands moving faster than the eye can see.

Within the span of a half second the sawed off is returned to you, wooden grip replaced with a new one of some dark, smooth wood, barrel polished and action oiled. Along the barrel and grip are inscribed stagecoach wheels and shields in silver and copper. The weapon feels more alive in your hands as you slide it back into its holster with a smooth movement.

You blink in shock at what just happened. You had barely processed his movements.
"Wha-.. Never mind... How much do i owe you for the engraving?" you swallow loudly, eying the small man carefully

"Free of charge my friend. Consider it a gift for the long travels you had here" his quiet chuckle echoes unnaturally, a dull red light glowing behind his glasses.

You quickly purchase some more ammunition and slot the bullets into your gunbelt and waist pouch. You extend your hand and Indrigo raises a thin eyebrow before gripping your hand with a vicelike grip that nearly pulps your bones

"Be wary in your travels my friend. My brothers are not nearly as helpful as I am" he says softly, looking you in the eyes for the first time. His irises are red as blood and lack a visible pupil.
"Be wary my friend. Be very wary"

>Leave

>Ask about his brothers

>Other
>>
>>1542758
>Guardian of the Road- 12ga shotgun sawed off. +10 To Shotgun rolls when defending innocents or mounted.
>>
>>1542758
>>Ask about his brothers
This man is a bro. Knowledge is power anons.
>>
>>1542775
That's awesome. The defending innocents is pretty broad for uses.
>>
>>1542758
>Other
Yes, Sir. (gulp)

Do you know where I can find Mr. Stevenson? I'm interested in a possible caravan run he's organizing.
>>
>>1542649
Ah. Gotcha. Ill include it in his next appearance :)
>>
>>1542826
Thank you!~~~
Also, Indrigo scares me.
>>1542758
>Ask about his brothers
>>
"Youre... Brothers? What do you mean?" you swallow loudly, looking at those swirling red orbs.

"My brothers. There are four of us. Myself, Azreal, Dascal and Petrios. You may encounter them in your travels. I hope for your safety that you do not" he releases his hold on your hand and returns to his book, the symbols on the page hurting your eyes to look at.

Its obvious you have been dismissed. With a respectful nod you turn and walk out of the shop, pushing open the heavy door, bright light blinding you for a moment before it clears as the door closes behind you.

You blink in shock. Youre in a small, well lit room with a older man behind the counter, white hair combed back as he polishes a slim revolver.
"Welcome to Stevenson's! What can I do for you today?"

You turn and look behind you. Through the glass door you see the street of Daston behind you, the same street you walked into Indrigos store from.

"What the Fuck"

>Speak to Mr. Stevenson about the convoy job

>Freak the Fuck out.

>Other
>>
>>1542934
>Speak to Mr. Stevenson about the convoy job
>Other
Don't freak out in front of a potential employer. Wait until we leave this store before panicking.
>>
>>1542934
>>Speak to Mr. Stevenson about the convoy job
>>Other
>Don't freak out in front of a potential employer. Wait until we leave this store before panicking.
>>
You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart. That was fucking weird.

"What did you say son? Couldn't quite hear ya" says the pleasant voiced old man from behind the counter.

"Oh! Uhh.. Yeah. Sorry about that had dust in my eyes. I heard from Marshall Weathers you were maybe sending out a shipment of arms and ammunition down to Kestraya. Would you possibly have any openings for the position?" you say smoothly, hiding your shock at your sudden dimensional jump.

The elderly man smiles broadly, setting down the revolver as you approach the glass topped counter
"Well that's true. Im sending out three light loaded wagons to Kestraya tomorrow morning. Ive got a couple openings if Youre interested. Pay is thirty shines for the whole trip. Three days there, three days back. Fair?"

>Fair.

>Not fair. Initiate hagglemode. (D100+5, write in)
>>
>>1543001
>Not fair. Initiate hagglemode. (D100+5, write in)
And any damages occurred or ammunition spent protecting the shipment is covered.
>>
Rolled 22 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1543013
>>1543001
Damn dice capitalization negation.
>>
>>1543001
>>Not fair. Initiate hagglemode. (D100+5, write in)
Pretty much what >>1543013 added in, plus a good bootknife.
>>
Rolled 64 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1543001
>>1543029
Forgot the roll.
>>
>>1543029
Bootknife?
>>
>>1543062
Yep. A knife you stick in your boot. Also called a gambler's knife.

Not to be confused with the retractable boot blade, a folding knife hidden in the toe of a boot.
>>
>>1543087
That's what I thought you meant. I was making sure it wasnt a negotiating tactic
>>
"Thirty works. Thirty works for me. Thirty PLUS ammunition expended and damages incurred. Throw in a good bootknife and you've got a deal" you smile, extending your hand to Mr.Stevenson.

He visibly mulls it over in his head, running his eyes over your bursting gunbelts and ample supply of iron. He nods and smiles, shaking your hand with a cool bony grip.

"Deal young man. That works fine for me. You'll get your ammunition reimbursed and ill personally see to any Healthcare or weapon repairs you need afterwards. As for the bootknife..." he reaches under the counter, pulling out a short, slim dagger in a black leather sheath. He shows you how it clips to the inside of your boot, out of sight and comfortable.

>BootKnife gained. Can sneak this past basic searches. +5 to stealth kills. Can be thrown.

>Leave and go somewhere else (Where)

>Ask Mr. Stevenson a Question (What)
>>
>>1543142
Updated Equipment list
Guardian of the Road- 12ga shotgun sawed off. +10 To Shotgun rolls when defending innocents or mounted.
58 12ga shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
12 12ga slugs
>Justice. .44 revolver. +15 rolls against evildoers and creatures of the night.
>48 .44 rounds
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 .308 rounds. Can be reloaded or purchased
1 Short Gripped Carbine. .357. 6 round capacity. Skull motif on the side of the Grip.
59 .357 rounds
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bowie
1 bootKnife
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
1 medium canteen 2 days water.
1 Large canteen. 5 Days water.
3 week of food.
Small shovel
2 large Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
2 sets Rawhide strips. 5ft each.
1 Large First aid kit.
1 Small First Aid Kit.
1 Hygiene kit.
1 Map of Daston and immediate area

1 Shines
13 Clinks
14 Dulls.
>>
>>1543142
>>Ask Mr. Stevenson a Question (What)
So, where and when are we starting this ride from?

>Leave and go somewhere else (Where)
Check the inn, see their rates. Don't want to loose out on sleeping in a bed. Plus, we still have that bottle of Capt'n Dale's on us.
>>
>>1543087
God damn I hate those. So gimmicky.
>>
Hold up. Two things.

1) You sure you don't mean Clinks again?

2) Don't we still have that bottle of cheap whiskey?
>>
>>1543189
Shit Fuck I forgot them again.

>1 bottle captain Dales sipping whiskey
>1 Bottle cat Oil

And im pretty sure I got the money count right
>>
>>1543174
So is this the plan?
>>
>>1543207
I guess it is?
>>
>>1543249
Doesn't seem to be any contention
>>
>>1543279
Well, I've got to head off to bed soon. Work and other related bullshit. You running again tomorrow?
>>
>>1543432
Of course. I run every day when possible
>>
So who all is present?

>SOUND OFF ANONS
>>
>>1544703
Of course
>>
>>1544703
I'm here for two hours.
>>
"So when does this Convoy leave... Boss" you say with a large smile, its good to practice your trade again.

"First thing tomorrow morning. Where ya planning on staying? ill send a boy to fetch ye when were getting ready" replies your new employer, picking up the revolver and cleaning rag.

"Is there a inn in town? Id rather not miss out on the chance to sleep in a bed" you reply, years of sleeping on the road isn't the best for your back and your mouth nearly waters at the chance for a mattress.

"Well there's Claudia's. Cheap rates but nothing fancy there. She'll even throw in dinner and breakfast. There's also... Ehehe.. Sally's Stable but you want to be able to function tomorrow right? Id suggest Claudia's." concludes Mr.Stevenson, nodding with finality.

"Well then thank ye sir. Ill be down at...

>Claudia's (5 Clink a night)

>Sally's (10 Clink a night)

> my camp a bit outside town. Ill save my money (FREE)
>>
>>1544726
>Claudia's (5 Clink a night)
>>
>>1544726
>>Claudia's (5 Clink a night)
I love me some breakfast.
>>
"-Claudias. I saw it on the way here and it seems like a decent enough place." you decide. A whorehouse probably wouldn't be a good spot to sleep the night.

"Alrighty Mr.MCcade. ill send a boy down to fetch ye tomorra'. Till then." he nods with a smile, shaking your hand again.

You duck out the door, small bell above it jingling as your feet impact the boards of the walkway along the storefronts. The sun is sinking in the sky and your wallet is feeling a bit light.

>Head to Claudia's, get some Grub and hit the hay

>Go somewhere else. The bar should be open
>>
head to claudias for some grub
it will be enjoyable to eat more so than to drink

and we all know what will happen if we go to the bar. a show down at dawn
>>
>>1544753
>Head to Claudia's, get some Grub and hit the hay
>>
You head down the walkway, a loud clang echoing through the town as both sets of gates are shut and barred for the night. Everywhere you see are townsfolk either hurrying to get to their homes or the bar.

The sun is sinking rapidly below the horizon, street lanterns are being lit and already music and singing can be heard from the bar, tavern and whorehouse. But that's not on your menu tonight.

You enter the clean, whitewashed building with a sign out front reading
"Claudia's Inn. Clean beds. Warm food" in large bold letters.

Knocking the dust from your boots you enter, facing a chubby woman several years older than yourself seated by a small table, writing down a list of some sort.

"Wit'cha in a sec darlin'" she drawls, chewing the end of her pen as she regards the list "rooms'r five Clinks a night, Dinner and breakfast'r complement'ry. How many nights ya staying hun?" she turns and smiles brightly at you, pushing back a errant chunk of curly hair.

"Just tonight ma'am. And dinner and breakfast sounds delightful" you reply politely, pulling out 5 clinks and setting then on the table between you.

She searches through the drawer of the table before handing you a small, brass key with "#3" on the side of it.

"Youre in room numbah 3 hun. Second door on the right. Dinner will be up shortly. Crawler lizard and tater stew!" she says with a large white smile, placing the coins in a large purse at her hip.

You tip your hat and make your way up to your room, snoring coming from the one across the hall as you kick your boots off and relax on the bed, taking a few pulls from your bottle of Captain dales. It never fails to burn your eyes, nose and throat like a hot coal but you feel cleaned out.

Dinner is brought up by Claudia and a particularly old woman who you suppose is the cook. They deposit the bowl of steaming stew on your bedside table and wish you a goodnight.

Crawler lizard isn't your favorite but theyre fatty, greasy and taste a little like chicken. Good cheap food. Washing it down with water and another pull of whiskey you hit the bed, sinking into it slightly with a sigh..

>-5 Clinks.
>>
>>1544903

Knock knock knock


Ughhh fuck.


Knock knock knock
"Mister? Mister? Hello?"

Go away

Knock knock KNOCK
"Mr. Stevenson sent me!"

"IM UP" you yell, fog peeling from your mind as you are ripped from your slumber.

A frightened yelp sounds out along with a burst of footsteps as the boy flees. You grumble, sitting up in bed and pulling on your clothes and boots, buckling on Justice and The Guardian. The Gunbelts are heavier than youre used to but its a good weight. You feel.... More steady.

You make your way out of the inn, a Crawler lizard on a biscuit pushed into your hands by Claudia as she tells you to come back soon.

You bite into the greasy meat and hurry down to Stevensons where the wagons are being loaded. The thin older man is directing the laborers as they haul heavy crates of firearms and boxes of ammo to the wagons, distributing the weight evenly.

"Ahh there ya are Mr. McCade! Good to see ya! You ready to ride? Also you planning on mounting up or riding shotgun?

>Bring slate, ride as an escort

>Ride shotgun (lead wagon, middle wagon, rear wagon)
>>
>>1544937
>>Ride shotgun (lead wagon, middle wagon, rear wagon)
>>
>>1544988
Which wagon you want to ride on?
>>
>>1545024
Lead wagon, most likely to be attacked
>>
>>1544937
Shouldn't we stable Slate so he and our stuff won't get stolen?
>>
>>1545037
Excellent idea.
>>
>>1545053
Yeah, lets do that if we're gonna leave him. What's the cost?
>>
"Ill ride shotgun. Front wagon if you don't mind." you reply, more than willing to take the most dangerous job

Stevenson smiles, waving you ahead toward the wagons.

"Feel free Mr.McCade. feel free." his dry voice is nearly drowned out by the noise of the loading.

"Wait, what about my mule? Is there a stable in town?" you reply, sudden panic hitting you.

Stevenson chuckles, shaking his head.
"I sent a boy to fetch yer mule. Hell be safe and sound in the stables. Your saddlebags and gear will be safe and sound in my shop till you get back. I take care of my boys. Now get on there and get going boy!" he smiles broadly and shows you off with both hands.

You walk up to the first wagon and brace your foot on the step, hauling yourself up into the shotgun seat. The driver is a dark skinned, toothless man with a broad hat pulled low over his eyes.

"Hey there. Dermot McCade, pleased to meet ya" you extend your hand, smiling hopefully

"Eh? Oh. Chevez." he shakes your hand with a weathered paw missing two fingers.

"Lets git" he grunts, flicking the reins and the wagon lurches into motion, followed closely by the other two.

>Roll a D100 for First day progress.
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>1545155
Got a doctors appointment soon, anybody else here, make sure we don't end up dead.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>1545171
nice
let me ruin it
>>
>>1545171
Kek. Good roll anon
>>
Does a third anon want to roll?
>>
You aren't sure what Guardian spirit of travelers is watching over you today but youre thankful.

Not a single thing goes wrong the first day. The sky is clear, a fool breeze blows, the dust is barely even raised by your passage. You and Chevez speak a little as you go but you really just lean back, enjoy the nice day and keep both eyes open just in case.

Three wagons, each with a driver and shotgun seat along with nine men on horseback as escorts. You know that anybody watching you will be able to tell you have SOMETHING valuable.

With the setting sun you make camp, a simple dinner of beans and some kind of many legged mutant vermin that Chevez snagged out of a hole in the ground that he insists is "good eatin'"

You roll your bedroll out next to your wagon and sleep with your hand on the grip of your Shotgun. There are two men on watch but you still can't be too careful. Chevez sits in the drivers seat, snoring like a rusted saw.

>Roll a D100 for Nighttime safety.
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>1545229
>>
>>1545229
>>
>>1545245
dice+d100 in the options field anon
>>
>any lurkers want to try to salvage this? Cause its looking bad.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1545359
Sure. You roll the third die.
>>
Your eyes pop open as you sure suddenly brought to full wakefulness. Some noise.. Some motion was enough to wake you and set your heart racing. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

A scuffling, strangled noise comes from the side of camp opposite you, one of the men on watch had been sitting there you remember. You cost your eyes around as you sit up slowly.

Shit. There's the second one.

The man who had been doing the duties of the "roving guard" was flat on his back, a short handled javelin in his chest. Its crudely carved handle is wrapped in strips of rawhide with feathers jutting out as decoration. The head appears to be a ground down kitchen knife.

"Fuck. EVERYBODY WAKE UP. WAKE UP WE GOT COMPANY!" you roar into the darkness, kicking off your blanket and jumping to your feet. Outside the the light of your campfire shadowy figures dash by in the dark, limbs grasping spears and bows, slings and javelins. One stops and you catch a glimpse of its face.

Oh dear sweet Fucking Jesus its ugly.

Three eyes, one blinking sightless from the middle of a cheekbone, sickly gray skin pocked by sores and growths. A nose that is just a gaping hole in its face. A cleft lip so severe it exposes the creatures sinuses. A horrible, twisted, inbred scum of humanity.

A feral mutant.

"FERALS! TAKE COVER!"

>Draw Justice, fire from cover (D100+15)

>Draw Guardian and your Tomahawk, get close (D100+10)

>Draw Tomahawk and Bowie, cut some Muties (D100+5)

>Other
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>1545410
>Draw Justice, fire from cover (D100+15)
Bang bang!
>>
>>1545445
>Draw Justice, fire from cover (D100+15)
>>
>>1541401
>Any other Bounties out?
Then leave to find thr prettyest cheapest whore
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>1545410
Well, shit.
>>
>>1545487
>>1545500
Either of you two want to roll to shoot things?
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>1545487
>>1545563
Didn't even notice it didn't roll. my bad
>>
>>1545574
Good thing, too, because you've saved us.
>>
You draw Justice, the Ivory grip warm in your hand as the weapon seems to vibrate, pulling your arm to where it needs to be.

All around you the camp is chaos, Men taking cover in the wagons and behind them, horses rearing and squealing, bullets and arrows whistling overhead. Chevez fires a short carbine from his wagon, cutting down the charging Ferals with unerring accuracy.

Justice speaks in your hand, a sharp report that sends a charging Feral flying backwards, a gaping hole in his scrawny chest. You thumb the golden hammer back and take aim again.

Bang! A Mutant topples into the dust, blood flying from his ragged lips, his throat blown open.

Bang! One of the fellow guards feels blood mist on his neck from the Feral that had been about to drive a spear through his heart.

Bang! Bang! A Hulking Feral, probably one of their swinging dicks topples to the ground, a bullet through each head, spraying his meager brains around behind him.

A Sudden impact takes you from behind and you fall into the dust, turning to land on your back. A stinking weight lands on you, torn nails clawing at your throat. The rotting stink of the creature on you is enough to nearly choke you already.

>Stick Justice Under his chin, blow his head off (D100+15)

>Draw your Bowie, Ram it into his throat (D100+5)

>Headbutt him (D100+5)

>Other
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>1545623
>>Stick Justice Under his chin, blow his head off (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>1545623
>Stick Justice Under his chin, blow his head off (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>1545623
>Stick Justice Under his chin, blow his head off (D100+15)
>>
The inbred mutant currently doing his best to strangle you with a pair of hands with far too few fingers on one hand and far too many other could only be described as foul. Repellent. Disgusting in every possible way.

You tense your neck, sucking in a greedy breath as Feral brings its face down, sharp, broken teeth hoping to rip off a piece of your face. You grip the front of the Ferals throat with your free hand.

You ram Justice's barrel under the Ferals chin, the broken teeth clacking together with a sharp sound.

Bang!

A shower of brains and gore splatter along the ground around your head and shoulders, the back of the Ferals head a smoking ruin

"In not on the menu pal" you grunt, heaving his twitching body off of you. You stand on shaky legs, spitting blood onto the ground as you take in the situation.

The attack seems to be faltering, the remaining Ferals now wary and searching for an opening

>Reload Justice and Fire again! (D100+15)

>Draw Guardian, splatter some Mutants (D100+10)

>Enter Melee, scare them off (D100+5)

>Other
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>1545823
>Draw Guardian, splatter some Mutants (D100+10)
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>1545823
>>Draw Guardian, splatter some Mutants (D100+10)
>>
>>1545837
>>1545851

Oh jeez
>>
>>1545823
Draw Guardian, splatter some Mutants (D100+10)
>>
Rolled 56 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1545823
>>Enter Melee, scare them off (D100+5)

The obvious solution is to rip and tear their guts.
>>
Rolled 77 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>1545823
>Draw Guardian, splatter some Mutants (D100+10)
>>
You holster Justice, the empty pistol leaving your hand quick as a flash as you draw your Bowie and Tomahawk. These fuckers want to get close do they? You'll get close alright.

You step out of cover, twirling your tomahawk in your hand as a howling feral charges you. A boot to the chest sees him flat on his back. A swift swing as he attempts to get up sends him flopping back, a gushing split in the side of his hairless head.

A second approaches, spear held high in a screeching charge. You duck your shoulder, letting the point go harmlessly over your shoulder and burying your Bowie in his sternum, ripping downward and spilling his putrid guts.

You swing.

A Mutie goes down with his brains leaking through the split in his skull.

You swing.

Blood sprays high in a crimson mist from a gashed throat, a pair of twisted hands clutching at the wound.

You swing.

The last mutant standing topples backward, tomahawk buried in the top of his skull, eyes rolled up into his skull.

You stand, wrenching your weapon free and wiping the stinking brain off on his torn, scavenged shirt.

"How many dead?" you yell into the night, the mutants fleeing as fast as they can.

"Just Julian! He took that pigsticker straight in the heart. Walter is hurt though, fucker damned near strangled him and bit his damn ear off" replies one of the other guards, reloading his rifle with shaking hands.

You sit the rest of the night facing the darkness, Justice in your hand and waiting for the horrors of the waste to return. They never do.

In the morning you resume your seat on lead wagon beside Chevez.

"Good fighting last night. Kil't plenty of Dem muties. Plenty of em" he grunts, shaking your bloodstained hand.

>Roll a D100 for this days progress.
>>
>>1545953
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>1545953
>>
Anybody else want to roll?
>>
It seems your nighttime battle either scared off the nasties in this area or the corpses of the Ferals provide a extra juicy meal but you are happy either way.

You pass another convoy on the road, this one loaded high with barrels and crates, foodstuffs for the general store and medicines. After swapping news of the road you head on, glad for the company.

You make good time, the horses seeming to know that theyre getting close to civilization and safety again, pulling swiftly and obediently. By the time you pitch camp, according to Chevez, you should be in Kestraya by tomorrow afternoon.

>Roll me a D100 for nighttime safety. This is dangerous country.
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1546051
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1546051
It's time for suffering.
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>1546051
>>
It seems the wasteland critters avoid your camp seeing as it smells like dead mutant blood and gunpowder.

You sleep like a baby, belly stuffed with beans, cornbread and some kind of roasted insect the size of a large dog. Chevez insisted you eat it and he hasn't led your stomach wrong yet.

You wake early in the morning and help to begin breaking camp, extinguishing the fire and lloading pots and hooks back up.

In the distance you can see the trail of smoke and dust indicative of a wasteland town. It seems youre in the home stretch.

>D100 for home stretch. Hardmode.
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>1546123
Nat 1 LEEEROOOYY
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1546123
>>
>>1546131
>>1546152

>WORRY
>>
Does a third anon want to roll cause... Is bad
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>1546163
Here to save you all
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>1546152
>>1546131
Roll
>>
You sit in the barely cushioned shotgun seat, listening to Chevez mumble about some woman he knew way back when. Youre eying the horizon, watching for dust clouds, scope shine, anything.

The escorts have the same idea, bringing the other two wagons even closer, hands on their weapons and hammers cocked. You spit into the dust, fingering the grip of Guardian as you bounce along the road.

Something isn't right. This is bandit heavy country. They should be all over you. ALL over you. Like flies on shit. Maggots on a five day corpse. Married men to a whorehouse. Point of the matter they should have hit you by now.

"Thought there were bandits thick out here Chevez" you say softly, eying the hills nearby.

"There are mi amigo. They watch us. Waiting. They see we carry guns and many boolits. We could use these against them no? So they wait. They hope we make camp, hope a wagon throws a wheel, hope a horse breaks a leg. They are cowards my friend. Do not worry" he says, smiling into his moustache as he gives a cheeky wave toward the hills.

Chavez's advice seems to hold true as you don't see a trace of the bandits around the road to Kestraya besides a corpse leaning against a stone, a Bowie rammed under his chin until the point emerged from the top of his skull.

You ride up to the ramshackle, bullet pocked walls of Kestraya with sweat running down your back from the constant stress of the day. Chevez makes his mark on the logbook and you follow his lead, signing your name with the charcoal pencil.

"Welcome to Kestraya boys. Leo's is right around the corner on the right. Hell sign for your arms and ammo and pay ya" says the one eyed young man manning the gate, a the shotgun in his hands obviously older than he is by far.

You and Chevez tip your hats and ride into the small town. It is vastly similar to Daston only much smaller and half as lively. Children don't play in the alleys, women don't smile as they pass and the drunks and broken men are as thick as weeds.

Chevez parks the wagon in front of the large building made of worn, splintery boards. A sign above the door read "Leo's GunStore" where a portly, sweaty man is waiting for you.

>Howdy there. You must be Leo, we got a shipment of Arms and Ammo from Stevenson for you

>Sign for your shit. Wheres the bar.

>You Leo? We got your guns. You got our money?.

>Other
>>
>>1546365
>You Leo? We got your guns. You got our money?

It's a tough town, so no need to stand on ceremony, so long as it doesn't dip into being an asshole.
>>
>>1546365
>You Leo? We got your guns. You got our money?.

Are the badits like more gun!!???
Borderlands style?
>>
"In guessing youre Leo? We got your guns from Stevenson. You got the payment?" you say gruffly, eager to get into the shade and get a drink.

Chevez snorts and bumps you with his elbow as the man visibly swallows.
"Yea im Leo. This is Leo's GunStore and you'll get your payment when ive done inventory of what all you brought me" he says gruffly, chins quivering.

Chevez leans in, a small smile on his lips
"Ill deal with him amigo. You go down to the bar and cool off. Ill be down with the rest of the boys afterward"
He slips a handful of coins into your hand

"Get some decent swill with this. We deserve a drink" he says with a wink.

>+10 Clinks.

>Head down to the bar

>Head somewhere else in town (Bank, Whorehouse, Inn, Sheriffs office, Stable)

>Other
>>
>>1546560
The bandits would have attacked in force if you had failed the roll or had less men survive the trip. It was close.
>>
>>1546580
>Head down to the bar
If we had gotten shines, I would have said the Whorehouse. Maybe pass by it so we might get a glimpse, though...
>>
>>1546580
>Head down to the bar
>>
>>1546604
This IS a half-empty backwater. Are you SURE you wanna see the whores here?
>>
>>1546701
I never said go inside of it. Plus, I assumed it was nearby the bar.

Anyway, I'm sure we could goad one of our fellow guards to have a night in a warm bed, especially with some booze in his stomach.

Also, does this approximate how the carriages look like?
>>
Hopping off of the wagon you nod at Chevez, giving Leo the stinkeye as you walk past him, jingling your coins in your hand as you walk through the town.

It seems most of the men here are either drunk or simply sitting and stating at the sky, getting drunk. You supposed if you lived in a shithole like this under siege by bandits you would too.

You walk past the town "whorehouse" where several "women" of extremely questionable virtue sit on stools, drinking rotgut and swearing like sailors. You swear you can hear them fart from twenty feet away.

The bar is a tall, wide building near the entrance to town, pulling the door releases the stink of booze, vomit and cheap food.

Eh. You've drank in worse.

Grabbing a table you push it against another, creating enough room for your group if they choose to come

Motioning to the surly, bald bartender you order

>Beers all around- 4 Clinks

>Shots all around - 5 Clinks

>Bottle of your best. A FULL one. 9 Clinks.

>A bottle of your WORST. 2 Clinks
>>
>>1546746
So we gay now?
>>
>>1546754
>Bottle of your best. A FULL one. 9 Clinks
>>
>>1546754
>>Bottle of your best. A FULL one. 9 Clinks.
>>
"Bottle of your best. A FULL one if you don't mind." you say with a smile.

The bartender regards you carefully before nodding and grabbing a bottle of dark, amber whiskey from behind him
"Nine Clinks" he says shortly, his voice a grating rasp

You slap down the coins and take the bottle and a stack of glasses from him, sitting at your table you pour yourself a small drink, taking an experimental sip.

Oh holy shitballs that's good. Just the right amount of flavor and burn for good whiskey.

A second experimental drink couldn't hurt. Or a third.

"Starting without us Amigo? Just checking if its poisoned Eh? Hahaha! I kid I kid!" chuckles Chevez, taking a seat across from you. A few of the men from the caravan accompany him

"Wheres everybody else? They decide to ditch us?" you ask, handing out glasses.

"Nah. Theyre over at the pussy shack getting their peckers wet. Id join em but I think those whores would have a bigger prick than I do" says one of the men, the guard whose life you saved from a mutants spear.

You pour five glasses of the whiskey, standing and raising it to your fellow guards.

>Write in toast
>>
>>1546891
To a day's work, a day's pay, and most of all: a day's reward! May many more be found!

or

May we get what we want; may we get what we need; but may we never find what we deserve!
>>
>>1546891
First, a moment of silence for Julian.

(silence)

Now, to a job well done and pay well deserved! Cheers!
>>
>>1546905
>>1546913

Anybody else want to vote or should I roll for these?
>>
>>1546975
Honestly, >>1546905's speech is better. I'd vote for that.
>>
"May we always get what we want, and may we Always get what we need. But let us never get what we deserve!" you finish with a flourish, downing the glass.

"Cheers!" shout the men, tossing back their whiskey and pounding the table

"Cheers mi amigo. Good toast, good toast!" says Chevez with a small smile, pouring himself another small drink.

>Ask the men what they know about Kestraya

>Ask the men about Daston (What)

>Ask the men about the local dangers of the wastes.

>Other (Specify)
>>
>>1546996
>>Ask the men what they know about Kestraya
>>Ask the men about the local dangers of the wastes.
>>
>>1546996
>Ask the men what they know about Kestraya.
>Ask the men about the local dangers of the wastes.

See if they can update our map for areas of interest. I've heard of this cave with a sweet unique rifle, for one thing...
>>
"So what do you guys know about Kestraya?" you ask, tossing back your glass and filling another

"I'sa shithole. Bandits done kilt everybody worth a fuck"

"Used to be a good town. Hard times hit em. Springs got poisoned, crops got infested, livestock died. Most young folk either left or turned bandit and killed all the folks worth a damn"

"This place is dying mi amigo. The people slipping further away from the light. Their hearts are turning as dusty and dry as those streets. Nothing to be done about it"

>Kestraya- Besieged Ghost town. The town has fallen under hard times and has only gotten worse. Bandits nearly constantly attack the town, remnants of the former youngfolk.

>Ask about the immediate wastes. (What)

>Ask about Daston (What)

>Other
>>
>>1547083
>>Ask about the immediate wastes. (What)
Any points of interests and places to avoid around here?
>>
>>1547083
>>Ask about the immediate wastes. (What)
Any points of interests and places to avoid around here?

Any one wana take on some badits here?
>>
>>1547083
Also im getting a fallout and borderlands vibe from this
>>
"Hmm.. Sounds like a lovely place." you say dryly, swirling your whiskey before taking a large gulp.
"What do you guys know about the wastes around here? Any spots I should avoid?"

This prompts several minutes of concentration as they think. You give them, your patient.

"Theres Red Canyon, bout 2 days south of Daston. Place is weird. Lots of weird critters too" says one man

"Old Farston ranch. Place used to be a real prosperous little ranch til one a' the Ranchhands lost his mind and kilt the whole family and all the other Ranchhands. Nobody will live there now" says another

"Lookout Retreat, that's a bad spot amigo. Bandits around here hide there. Them AND worse things. Stay away from there." says Chevez quietly, looking into his drink

>Any other questions?
>>
>>1547185
>WHO WANTS TO GO TO LOOKOUT RETREAT!?
>>
>>1547185
>Old Farston ranch.

Tell me a bit about the ranch and what happened there.

>Why'd the guy go nuts?
>How prosperous were the Farstons?
>Any chance there's anything left there now?

I'm thinking there might be some sort o treasure there...
>>
>>1547185
im keen to go to Old Farston ranch

but arfter we get paid and make sure the marhle dosnt wana kill us
>>
Still here?
>>
>>1547622
Yeah im here. Got b& but its taken care of
>>
File: 1496841191586-1653478851.jpg (1.62 MB, 3264x1836)
1.62 MB
1.62 MB JPG
OP provides a shitty map.
>>
"Old Farston ranch? What happened there exactly?" you ask, waving over a woman with a platter of fried....something.

One of the guards bites his lip as he thinks, clearly not used to having to think about the place. "Well... I think it was about... Ten? Fifteen years ago. One of the ranchhands, Jeremy or Jeremiah or some such, started acting funny one day. Talking about hearing voices in the wind. Seeing the shadows walk without their owners. The others told him to shut his crazy gob and ignored him. My Uncle worked with one of the men before they got kilt. Says Jeremy or whatever his name was got weirder and weirder, suddenly disappearing one day. Never heard another peep out of anyone there" he concludes, obviously played out.

"After we didnt hear anything for a fee days a group of men went to investigate Farston. They came back with half of their number, eyes wide, horses frothed up, damn near insane. Three of em killed themselves there over what they say. Apparently everyone there and I mean EVERYONE. Was butchered. Slaughtered. Pieces of em everywhere. Torn to bits and used as decorations with blood and....worse things used to write on the walls." says another man, shivering despite the heat

"What was written? What did he write?" you ask, intrigued and a little grossed out. Maybe more than a little

"Some gibberish. I don't know anybody who would understand it"

"Some weird ass symbols and numbers I think"

"It was a ritual mi amigo. They were sacrifices. Whatever he wrote was probably an invitation to... Something." says Chevez quietly, staring into his drink.

"Damn. That's more than a little fucked up." You swirl your whiskey and toss it back, your appetite for fried- Bug thing gone.

>Last Question before you turn in for the night (Write in)
>>
>>1548331
God titty fucking dammit son
Any olace hwere i could pick a set of cards and whos a cheater i your group?
>>
>>1548331
What about Red Canyon, what type of critters I mean, can't be much weirder than what you see on the road
>>
>>1548337
Id rather not write in a cardgame if you don't mind anon. That's a lot of shit to write and keep track of. Maybe later in the quest
>>
>>1548340
Sure
>>
>>1548350
Thats fine
One day
Then il go with what the other guy said
>>
"Sooo... What can you guys tell me about red canyon? What makes the critters there so nasty?" you ask, gnawing at a fried lizard with too many legs.

Chevez answers first, seems he knows a bit about it
"It is a place less.... Real than where we sit. There are many caves within the canyon. Many lead to places not of this world. The creatures that dwell there... They change mi amigo. They are warped creatures. Twisted. Hateful. Those descended from men.... They no longer could be called such" he says, his dark eyes boring into yours.

"What he said" says one of the younger guards "Red canyon is bad news. Most folks who go there come back crazy, hair white as milk and clawing at their eyes"

A pair of the others knock on the wooden table, obviously wishing for good luck.

You bite the head off of your fried mutie lizard and push your seat back, raising the remnants of your glass to your companions

"Well this has been fun my friends but im gonna hit the hay. Don't do anything I wouldn't do" you down the remains of your glass and stand (a bit shakily) and make your way to the door

"If you wish you may sleep in the back of the wagon. It is comfortable enough and free mi amigo!" calls Chevez, pulling a deck of cards from his coat pocket

You climb into the unloaded wagon, sleep reaching you in a moment. Your dreams are dark, filled with strange, half seen shapes and rushes of sound. You stand in the midst of a swirling maelstrom of shadowy figures. A voice calls out to you but you can't make out the words. You take a step forward to get closer to the source but just before you move you sure ripped awake

"Wha-what the fuck?" you sputter, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Damn your head hurts.

"Hahaha! It is morning mi amigo! Wake my friend! Wake! Time to go and I cannot drive and shoot at the same time!" says Chevez, poking your side with a stick again.

Grumbling you sit up and realize the wagon is in motion and Kestraya is already falling into the distance behind you.

"You were making some weird noises. I figured, was best to let you sleep. A good siesta can set you straight." says Chevez without looking over his shoulder.

>Roll 1D100 for the trip back to Daston
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>1548421
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>1548421
>>
>>1548421
>>
You aren't sure what was holding them off before. Maybe they didn't want to risk the massive amount of firearms you were carrying. Maybe they wanted the money instead.

Either way your ass is barely in the seat before you hear the crack of a gunshot. Dust puffs up in the road ahead of you. Chevez curses in Spanish and lashes the horses, spurring them to a gallop while yelling over his shoulder.

"BANDITOS. AFTER THE MONEY" he roars, drawing his pistol with one hand and holding the reins in the other.

On the right side of the road the a dust cloud boils up, ten men on horses barely visible through the could.

Their hidden sniper fires again, a bullet tearing splinters from the seat next to you.

>Draw Justice, fan that hammer cowboy (D100+15)

>Draw Guardian (D100+15)

>Ask Chevez for his carbine. Fire at that Sniper (D100)
>>
>>1548463
Time to roll.
>Draw Guardian (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>1548463
>Draw Guardian (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>1548467
>>
>>1548469
Pick your targets. You have 10 Bandits coming at you with 1 Sniper firing at you possibly from the ridge to the left of your front.

With that roll its a hit either way
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>1548463
>Ask Chevez for his carbine. Fire at that Sniper (D100)
>>
>>1548477
Closest grouping of 2 or 3 to us.
>>
>Fuck it ill pick for you.

You pull Justice from its holster, the heavy pistol as light as a feather in your grip as you draw a bead on the charging bandits. You thumb the hammer back, sight coming to rest right under the brim of a mans hat, his crazy eyes glittering through the dust.

Bang. One flops out of his saddle backwards, the back of his head a gaping ruin.

Bang. A masked bandit clutches at his chest and rides a half dozen steps before slipping from the saddle, his heart blown asunder.

Bang. A mangy horse flips bonelessly, crushing its rider beneath it. One of its brown eyes replaced with a red crater.

Theyre close now. Close enough you just have to point.

Bang. A young man, barely older than young snowtop was, topples from his horse, feet kicking with a dime sized hole in his forehead.

Bang. It doesnt matter to you that this bandit was running and justice doesnt mind either. He rides maybe twenty more feet before he sags and drops from his saddle like a bag of meat.

Your fellow guards open fire into the retreating group of bandits, by the time they are out of range maybe 2 of them are left.

One of the escort riders falls, gripping his throat as blood spurts from the wound. Hes hit and down before the report of the shot even reaches you. You cast your eyes around and catch the glint of a scope in the rocks on the ridge above you. A rag wrapped hand works a bolt desperately.

>Chevez! Your carbine! (D100)

>Fire Justice (D100+15, Hardmode)

>Fire Guardian (D100+15, Super Hardmode)
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>1548508
>Chevez! Your carbine! (D100)
>>
>>1548517
Well i think it's safe to say he's dead
>>
>>1548520
Dammit didnt post
What would have you written if i picked Guardian instead?
>>
>>1548517
Nice
>>
File: rvKFwxD.gif (499 KB, 498x286)
499 KB
499 KB GIF
>>1548517
>>
>>1548522
Im honestly not sure. But 95 was the DC for the Guardian but its too late to go back now.
>>
You fucking HATE snipers. They rarely deign to bring themselves into range. However you have just the solution.

"Chevez! Your carbine!" you bark, holstering Justice and catching the worn weapon in both hands.

You work the lever, sliding a fresh round into the action, kneeling in the floor of the wagon you brace the barrel on the boards in front of you.

"Come on you bastard. Come on" you growl, looking along the ridge. The bastard has moved.

There! The faintest glimmer of glass in the sunlight gives away the mans position. You angle the sight just above the reflection and squeeze the trigger gently.

Bang! The worn carbine jumps in your hands, a faint puff of smoke emerging from the barrel. You watch carefully as the glimmer of glass on the ridge twitches and disappears, the rifle tumbling down the cliffside as a crimson stain trickles down the rocks.

"Got-DAMN! That was a good shot Dermot! Musta been near three hundert yards!" crows on of the guards, slapping you on the back as you hand Chevez his carbine back.

"Things got damn good sights on it" you tell him with a smile, shaking his lessened hand.

"No mi amigo. No it does not. Just a very very good shot. Well done. Well done indeed!" he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

When you make camp that night, after burying Howards, your group talks and sings late into the night. The bandits know better than to come around now.

You wake from your bedroll a but after dawn and leap into the seat of the wagon next to Chevez, eying the iron bound chest of Stevensons payment

"Think anybody else will try to hit us?" you ask, nudging him with a elbow

"Possibly. With the lighter load we should Reach Dayton by tonight if we are lucky" he says, clucking to the horses as they begin pulling.

"Well.. Will we be lucky wise man?" you ask with a broad smile and a chuckle

>Will you? D100 plz
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>1548562
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1548562
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>1548562
>>
>>1548567
>>1548581
>>1548582
Eh...
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>1548562
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1548562
Guse the lizards are coming
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1548562
>>
With a world weary glance to the sky Chevez shrugs.
"Why would the gods of luck pick now to go easy on us amigo? I think not. We should always be ready for bad luck." he says flatly, shrugging his shoulders

Well that's fucking depressing.

You ride along in companionable silence for a while, watching the cliffs and hills for activity. Even though the bandit population was just decreased they and worse things prowl the hills.

Chevez suddenly sniffs the air, listening and watching a small insect burrowing under his poncho.

"Mi amigo? Do you have a bandanna and goggles on you?" asks Chevez quietly.

"Um... Yeah, yeah I do. Why?" you ask.

"Wet your bandanna and put it over your mouth. Put your goggles on as well." he says, turning to the rest of the convoy. "Wrap up your faces mi amigos! Its going to get dusty in a moment!"

Ah. Shit. Sandstorm.

"Will we be ok on the road or should we go get some shelter?" you ask, saturating your bandanna and putting on your goggles

"What shelter? Nothing but hills and rocks out here. The horses will be fine, they are big enough not to be blown away. We on the other hand..."

"Why are you tying yourself into the seat Chevez?" you yelp, finding your hands already seeking out the ropes.

"Because I do not know how to fly Hahaha!! Now hold on my friend!" he laughs, clucking to the horses to pick up speed as a wall of wind and dust and small, struggling creatures suddenly crests over the ride above you. In seconds the visibility drops to nothing, just a muggy brown of dust and flying grit that hits your exposed skin like sandpaper. If not for Chevez's advice you would be ripped from your seat and flayed alive.

You don't know how long the sandstorm lasts or how far you go while it rages but at last it grows too dark to even see the sand and Chevez calls it a night. You risk a peek through the back of the wagon and fail to see either of the others.

"My friend they could be ten feet away and you wouldn't see them. Do not worry. Goodnight." with that he pulls his hat over his eyes and is asleep within moments in the covered interior of the wagon.

The wailing wind keeps you up for hours.

In the morning you poke your head out and are thankful to see one of the other wagons and four of the escort riders behind yours. They claim that the rear wagon fell away sometime before dark and they hope nothing happened to them.

>Lets go and check on them (D100)

>Fuck em, we got the money in our wagon. Lets keep going (D100)
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>1548605
>Lets go and check on them (D100)
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>1548605
>Lets go and check on them (D100)
>>
"No man left behind and all that jazz. Chevez, lets go check on them." you yell, making sure Justice and Guardian are clean and clear of sand. The other wagon stays put along with two of the riders. Seems they don't care about their companions.

Assholes.

You make good time along the dusty road, the sand had scoured the metal on the sides until it was gleaming on one side. Its only five miles from your camp that you find the last wagon.

The men are currently heaving and pushing the wagon, trying to get it up so they can stick blocks under it, a shattered wheel thrown to the wayside.

Relieved, you and the riders throw in some help, pushing the wagon high enough to get the blocks under it. You tap on the new wheel with a mallet, packing the rim of the wheel full of thick black grease before capping it. The men thank you happily, getting back on the road behind you.

That couldve been MUCH worse

>D100 for last leg of the journey.
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1548668
>>
>>1548668
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>1548668
>>
>>1548677
Son of a bitch. It's dice+d100 isnt it?
>>
>>1548681
No, it's dice+1d100.

You forgot the 1 in front of the d100.
>>
>>1548681
dice+d100

In the options or email field. No capitalization
>>
>>1548685
What he said i fucked up mine too.
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1548687
>no capitalization
Thats it.
>>
>>1548690
>Another 95
Dice god works in mysterious ways
>>
It seems that the sandstorm drove away all the beasties in this area. You find several corpses of small vermin splattered on rocks or impaled on tree branches, the vicious sand ground them down to the bones.

You make excellent time and before late afternoon you find yourself at the gate to Daston. Chevez signs you in at the gate and your convoy moves into the town, parking in front of Stevensons. The thin, elderly man rushes out, obviously pleased to see you.

"Ah Youre back Youre back! The other wagon got back hours ago and said you had troubles. Lost two of your number they said! Tragic! Tragic!"
he wrings his hands, obviously concerned.
"What about Leos payment for those arms and ammo. You have it?"

"You reach into the back of the wagon, hauling out the heavy chest and bracing it against your hip.
"Got it right here" you grunt.

"Oh my he really paid. Bring it inside man bring it inside!" he says happily, waving you and Chevez inside.

Plunking the heavy chest down on a sturdy table you stand back as Stevensons pulls out a intricate iron key, slotting it into the chest. With a clunk and a pop it opens, the top folding back to reveal

Shines. Easily five hundred of them. More than you've ever seen. Stevenson sighs happily, pulling out the top rack of Shines. Beneath them are rows upon rows of Clinks, gleaming bright as molten silver.

You grunt in shock. Thats.... A lot of money.

Stevenson seems to remember he isn't alone, shutting the chest again and turning to face you.

"So Mr.McCade, Chevez. Thank you for helping me with this business venture. I believe thirty clinks was the agreed upon amount? Plus reimbursement for damages and ammunition expended?"

>Thirty clinks. Plus a dozen .44's and whatever Chevez asked for.

>Hagglehagglehaggle (specify amount and your argument. Good argument will get another +5 to their D100+5)
>>
>>1548704
>Thirty clinks. Plus a dozen .44's and whatever Chevez asked for.
We already bargained with him at the start, let's be polite, so we can extort more money next time.
>>
>>1548704
>Thirty clinks. Plus a dozen .44's and whatever Chevez asked for.

Let's not get too greedy here.
>>
>>1548704
>Thirty clinks. Plus a dozen .44's and whatever Chevez asked for.

It's bad taste to haggle for more after you shook hands on a deal. We're good, just tell him to refer us to any other shopkeepers in town for work.
>>
>+30 Clinks.
>Ammunition Refilled.

"Thirty clinks sir and half box of .44's. Just as we agreed." you shake the thin mans hand and take the small pouch of money he offers you, tipping your hat and turning on your heel.
"Let me know of anybody else needs any caravan work" you call over your shoulder, stepping out into the street.

You pour the bright, jingling coins into your wallet, lacing it back up tightly. You take a pull from your canteen and look around Daston.

What to do now.

>Go somewhere else in town (Bank, General Store, Marshall's office, Sheriffs office, Bar, Whorehouse, write in)

>Go explore around the wastes outside town (Red canyon, Farston ranch, lookout retreat, specify)

>other
>>
>>1548761
>Go somewhere else in town
Marshall's office, let's get some bounties in.
Also how much money do we have?
>>
>>1548761
>Go somewhere else in town (Bank, General Store, Marshall's office, Sheriffs office, Bar, Whorehouse, write in)

First check with the Marshal if they found the heads and to check the bounty board. Then head over to the bar for some day drinking.
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>1548605
>>
>>1548790
1 Shines
45 Clinks
14 Dulls
>>
>>1548761
Marshall's office
>>
>>1548814
Erm, boss up in >>1543001 here, you said it was 30 shines for the job...
>>
You know what. Your wallet STILL feels light. And you know the perfect place to remedy that.

The Marshall's office is exactly the way it was five days ago. Dust on the black painter boards, men discussing going in (A different bunch this time though) and the solid door shut against the heat and dust.

You knock, kicking the dust from your boots as you enter as the Marshall looks up from his lunch of.... Something. You think its moving.

Yeah. Its definitely moving. You wince as he stabs one of the crawling tendrils with a fork, sucking it up like a noodle.
"Sit down boy sit down. Good news! I don't have to kill ya for swindling me cause ya didn't swindle me! Sent a man up there to look at them heads and he brought back young snowtops. I matched that chunk of scalp to his purty head and then burnt em both. Good riddance!" he says happily, belching and taking a swig of some sort of tea.

"Now what can I do for you my boy?"

>Ask about a bounty

>Ask about any other jobs around town

>Nothing, just dropping by (Leave and go somewhere else)
>>
>>1548855
>Nothing, just dropping by (Leave and go somewhere else) making sure you didnt wana shoot me.
Also im just goning to guse that anyonr i kill ( bad guys have a bounty on them)
I should just bring thrm to you?

Go cheack on the mule and our things
>>
>>1548855
>Ask about any other jobs around town.
and see the bounty board.
>>
>>1548855
>Ask about a bounty

Anything I can cut my teeth on?

Seriously, though, weren't we supposed to get shines instead of clinks for the caravan job.
>>
>>1548875
In pretty sure I wrote clinks for that.
>>
>>1548875
Motherfucker we've been robbed, god dammit
>>
>>1548892
nope just checked, shines
>>1543001
>"Well that's true. Im sending out three light loaded wagons to Kestraya tomorrow morning. Ive got a couple openings if Youre interested. Pay is thirty shines for the whole trip. Three days there, three days back. Fair?"
>>
>>1548892
Looking back on >>1543001...

"Well that's true. Im sending out three light loaded wagons to Kestraya tomorrow morning. Ive got a couple openings if Youre interested. Pay is thirty shines for the whole trip. Three days there, three days back. Fair?"

It says shines to me. Even asked you if you meant clinks here >>1543189.
>>
>>1548898
GOD FUCKING DAMMIT IM DUMB
>>
>>1548898
>>1548909
Updated money list. Fixed because op is a retard

31 Shines
15 Clinks
14 Dulls
>>
Your wallet suddenly sags slightly heavier, as if the coins had suddenly changed in the material of their composition, from silver to gold.

Impossible.

"Oh I was just wondering what bounties you had out at the moment Marshall. Got anything for me to cut my teeth on?" you say, one hand idly toying with your suddenly heavier wallet

"Oh ive got a few... Hold on... "He shuffles in his desk, pulling out several yellow bounty sheets. " 'ere, take a look at these"

"You look over the small selection before pointing at the bounty board.
"What about those? Do i not qualify? " you ask indignantly.

" s'not that Mr. McCade. I just don't know how good ye are. Those men up there have chewed up and spit out hardened bounty hunters for years. Is rather get a measure of a man before I send him out to die" he says, suddenly serious. He has a point, those men on the bounty board have MASSIVE murder and torture charges against them.

You decide to start small.

>James Patterson- wanted Dead or alive for Murder, Assault, Theft on the road. Believed to be hiding outside of Washers ranch. Reward- 40 Clinks

>"Butcher" Pete West- Wanted Dead for Three counts of Murder and one confirmed act of cannibalism. Believed to be in hiding with his family outside the town of Daston. Reward 50 Clinks

>Dominic Mendez- Wanted Dead or Alive for Murder in an illegal and unsanctioned duel. Believed to be Residing in Daston. Reward- 35 Clinks

>Pick one and IM SURE I got the money right
>>
>>1548996
>James Patterson- wanted Dead or alive for Murder, Assault, Theft on the road. Believed to be hiding outside of Washers ranch. Reward- 40 Clinks

Any bonus for bringing him in alive? Front row seats to see him dance the hemp fandango included, of course...
>>
>>1549037
If you can bring him in alive im sure the Marshall would be impressed and maybe toss in a little extra.
>>
>>1548996
I just got that reference in the second bounty.

Cute.
>>
>>1548996
>James Patterson- wanted Dead or alive for Murder, Assault, Theft on the road. Believed to be hiding outside of Washers ranch. Reward- 40 Clinks
>>1549065
Aside from the song is there a reference i'm missing?
>>
"Ill take Patterson. Seems like a wannabe hardass, what can you tell me about him?" you ask, pulling out the bounty poster and regarding the thin faced, bearded man on the front.

"Just a trumped up bandit. Normally the sheriff would take of him but hes in hiding outside Washers ranch and Old Washer hates the sheriff and his deputies. Wont let anybody cross his land whos working for Him" says Marshall Weathers, tapping his fork on his plate.

"How many men does he have with him?" you ask, stroking your chin.

"Ohhh... Shouldnt have more than three or four with him. Hes no bigshot" says Weathers, smiling across the desk.

"And if I bring him back alive?" you ask hopefully, sometimes there's a bonus.

"Ehhh... Id hate to get a gallows ready for that shit but yeah, you bring him in kickin and ill make sure he leaves the same way" replies the Marshall, reaching across and shaking your hand. "Ill even toss in a shine if ye do"

>Head out to Washers ranch. 1 day outside town (D100)

>Go somewhere else in town (Where)
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>1549328
>Head out to Washers ranch. 1 day outside town (D100)
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>1549328
>Head out to Washers ranch. 1 day outside town (D100)

I was referring to "Butcher" Pete, boss.
>>
>>1549379
Did you change your vote? Where?
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>1549328
>Head out to Washers ranch. 1 day outside town (D100)
>>
>>1549389
No... I was saying that I had only figured out the Butcher Pete after a few minutes. I'm still okay with visiting Patterson.
>>
You head down to the stable, signing out slate and give the stubborn mule a rub on the neck. Seems they took good care of him.

After a quick run to Stevensons to pick up your gear from his vault you load Slate back up, checking your rifle and carbine are seated securely and mount up. Slates massive strength means you don't impede him in the slightest and he takes off at a swift trot, bouncing you in the saddle.

You follow the small, shoddy map of Daston's surrounding area, passing the isolated homes and outlying ranches until you come across a small wooden sign next to the road, a thin dirt road falling off behind it towards the hills
"Washers Ranch. Keep out" you read aloud. Seems like a friendly bunch.

You cluck to slate, the mule taking off down the road easily enough, his long stride eating up the miles until you see the smoke of a chimney on the darkening horizon.

>Make camp here (D100 for nighttime safety)

>Continue on. Make yourself known and let Old Washer know why your here (D100 for night riding)

>Continue on Quietly, why is old washer so protective of this bandit? Sneak up (D100 for sneakiness)
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>1549458
>>Make camp here (D100 for nighttime safety)
Gunfights in the dark are no fun, period.
>>
One or two more anons want to try and salvage this?
>>
>>1549543
If nothing happens in 10 minutes, mind if I roll again?
>>
>>1549551
Yeah. Ill allow samefagging if there's no activity.
>>
Rolled 91, 12 = 103 (2d100)

>>1549458
>Make camp here (D100 for nighttime safety)

And I made it even worse somehow.

Hope you don't mind me rolling 2d100
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>1549458
>Continue on. Make yourself known and let Old Washer know why your here (D100 for night riding)
>>
>>1549590
Excellent roll.
>>
This technically counts as hostile territory so you don't start a fire. You take a few pulls from your canteen and have a small dinner of cold jerky and pickled vegetables.

After dinner you curl up, using your saddle as a pillow, Slate munching some Stink-weed nearby. Stuff smells like ass but horses (and mules) love it. Figures.

You guess the scent of your either doesn't carry far or is drowned out by Slates odorous meal but neither beast, man or eldritch horror disturbs your beauty rest.

You wake early in the morning and enjoy the sunrise. You'll probably be killing men today, good to start off on a high note.

You ride down to the ranchouse, a squat, low building built into the hill behind it. A barn made of old, seasoned cracked boards leans precariously in the wind.

Behind the fences of rusted barbed wire and splintered wooden poles are herds of scrawny cattle and sheep. They aren't the cleanest blooded animals you've ever seen. Some have too many eyes, some too many legs or too few. Horns curl and twist and jut from strange locations.

No wonder Washer is in bad shape. Nobody really wants Mutie stock. The meat is foul and theyre prone to diseases.

A handful of ranchhands watch you from the bunkhouse as you approach, one fast walking towards the ranchhouse while another begins sidling away towards the hills to the west, ducking low to avoid your gaze.

>Speak to Washer (Write in)

>Follow the sneaking man (D100, hes sneaky)

>Fire a warning shot, get everybodies attention (D100)

>Other
>>
>>1549754
>>Speak to Washer (Write in)
Mornin'. You Washer?

I've been employed by the Marshal, heard that there's a bandit nearby that's been preyin' on traders and honest folk near your lands. Now, we can't have that, as you well know. Good folk don't need to be waylaid by raiders, they've got enough problems with the waste itself and the things livin' innit. Now could you tell me where Ol' Patterson's been hanging around?
>>
>>1549754
>>Fire a warning shot, get everybodies attention (D100)
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>1549915
>>
File: 1366609274395.png (22 KB, 696x552)
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>>1549961
>>
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140 KB
140 KB JPG
>>1549994
>>
A thin, crooked old man hobbles his way out of the ranchhouse, leaning on a thin wooden cane. One of the ranchhands follows him, acting like an escort.
"Who're ye? Whatcha doin on ma land? Speak! Damn ye afore I have my boys blow ye outcher saddle and butcher yer mule fer dogfeed." he barks, voice dry and croaking.

Oh well. You didnt suspect you'd meet a good reception.

"Morning" you tip your hat " You Washer? I've been employed by the Marshal, heard that there's a bandit nearby that's been preyin' on traders and honest folk near your lands. Now, we can't have that, as you well know. Good folk don't need to be waylaid by raiders, they've got enough problems with the waste itself and the things livin' innit. Now could you tell me where Ol' Patterson's been hanging around?" you say with a winning smile.

Washer scowls, chewing his thin lips as the ranchhand next to him blinks in shock

"Eh? Patterson? I don't know any Patterson. Never heard of him. No sirree. Ain't never heard o' no James Patterson. How bout you go trouble my neighbors? They'll help ye out ya bugger"he shoos you away with one liver spotted hand as the Ranchhand leans down to whisper in his ear

You shouldn't have expected cooperation

>Press the issue (Write in, D100)

>Take his word. Leave, in a roundabout manner of course (D100)

>I must insist you allow me to search the premises. Violently (D100. Shoot everybody)

>Other
>>
>>1549961
>>1549994
>>1550029

Slightly fortunate I was writing before I saw that 1 Eh?
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>1550040
>>Take his word. Leave, in a roundabout manner of course (D100)
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1550040
>>Press the issue (Write in, D100)
Well, I wouldn't expect you to know him, what with you being an upstanding citizen. However, I do think one o' your hands might have an idea, seeing him sneak off into the hills and all. Mind bringing all your hands here? You and I would both hate to find out that you've been employing a known bandit. The townfolk back in Daston even more so. Why, I bet quite a few of them might have some things to say to you. Possibly with a twelve gauge pointed right at your belly.
>>
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49 KB
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>>1550081
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>1550040
>>I must insist you allow me to search the premises. Violently (D100. Shoot everybody)
YEHAW
>>
>>1550106
>>1550081
>>1550077
looks like we havea fight ob ourhands
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>1550040
>>Take his word. Leave, in a roundabout manner of course (D100)
>>
>>1550189
Shit. I'm not rolling anymore.
>>
>>1550189
dont be like that i rolled a 1
>>
>>1550194
And I rolled the other 1 against the Little Shit Gang at the start.
>>
If there's one thing you hate worse than snipers its bumpkins. Crooked lying bumpkins at that. You draw on the old man and his ranchhand without a second thought.

"Are you SURE you don't know anything Mr.Washer? Cause my friend here thinks you do and he yells a LOT louder than you do. So you better- SHITFUCK" you yelp, Slate rearing as a bullet rips through the outside of your thigh, scoring Slates flank with a crimson line.

God DAMN that stings!

The dumbfounded Ranchhand is still staring at you in shock as the others take potshots from inside the barn, the first one a lucky shot as it seems they can't shoot for shit.

Washer slaps his chest with the cane and screeches in his reedy voice
"Shoot 'im already ye fuckim dimwit!"

The incredibly slow on the draw ranchhand finally reaches toward his pistol with molasses like speed

>Blow this twit in half (D100+15)

>Shoot him with one barrel, Washer with the other (D100+15)

>Club him over the head, Scattergun the fuck out of the Barn (D100+15)

>Fall back a little, fire at range, from cover (D100, carbine or Rifle)

>Other
>>
Rolled 58 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550220
>Club him over the head, Scattergun the fuck out of the Barn (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 90 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550220
>>Club him over the head, Scattergun the fuck out of the Barn (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 72 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550220
>>Club him over the head, Scattergun the fuck out of the Barn (D100+15)
>>
>>1550234
REDEEMED!
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>1550220
>>Club him over the head, Scattergun the fuck out of the Barn (D100+15)

Boom
>>
File: nichijou clapping1.gif (96 KB, 216x203)
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>>1550234
>>
>>1550263
Thanks.
>>
>>1550242
>>1550234
we only good at rideign and shooting
>>
>>1550283
Hey, now, we're not too shabby at bartering.
>>
Alright motherfuckers. You want to play like that?

You spur Slate on, flipping Guardian in your hand you bring the heavy wooden butt down across the back of the young mans head. With the solid thunk of wood on bone he slumps, pistol dropping from nerveless fingers as Washer screeches in fury.

Slate is furious, gnashing at his bit he charges forward, bullets whizzing past his head and yours. With every thundering hoofbest you draw closer to the barn.

Two on the ground near the door. One in the loft.

Your fist comes up and the two men on the ground floor fall under the bead. Its a long shot for your Sawed off so you squeeze off both barrels.

The resulting cloud of heavy shot shreds the front of the barn to splinters, the mens stained shires blossoming crimson flowers in a dozen places.

Another bullet shrieks by, just by the brim of your hat.

With supernatural speed you flick open the action, the spent shells flying over your should in smoking arcs as you slot another two in, Slate dancing underneath you to keep you a hard target.

Your hand comes up, slow as a glacier at the dawn of time. The desperately reloading young man has time to look at you, for lips to make some final curse before he simply evaporates from the shoulders up. His headless body collapses backward, a spray of round, shining holes punched in the tin roof behind him, light shining through like stars.

You turn to face Washer, Blood dripping slowly down your leg from the glancing wound.

"So..."
>-4 12ga shells

>Care to tell me where Patterson is now? (D100, Easy)

>I hate Crooked Bumpkins" shoot him. Patterson should be nearby. (D100)

>How much were you paying these boys to defend your lie? And how much will you pay me not to kill ya (D100+5)

>Other
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>1550308
>>Care to tell me where Patterson is now? (D100, Easy)
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1550308
>Care to tell me where Patterson is now? (D100, Easy)

Tell me where Patterson is and why you care or you'll be hanging with him.
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>1550308
>>Care to tell me where Patterson is now? (D100, Easy)
>>
"Care to tell me where Patterson is now? You dusty old fuck." you spit, keeping both barrels trained on the treacherous old fart while you circle Slate around him.

"You murdering fucker... Killin ma hands like that. They was good boys! Better'n the likes of ye!" he snarls, bony hands clenched.

You thumb back both hammers, your finger twitching on the trigger.

"Ill tell ye! Ill tell! Hes... Hes camped out behind the house. Bout a mile or 2. Ashton went to go warn 'im, tell him there's a damn scalper here for 'im. Hell either run of't or come here to kill ye, depending on what Ashton tells 'im." he sulks, bony chin tucked into chest.

"Why are you sheltering him? Don't you know the townsfolk would hang you beside him?" you ask, amazed at the old mans vitriol.

"He offer't a deal. He needed a place to hide and I need money and supplies. He split what he took from them wagoners with me. Got us through some hard times it did"

You should've guessed.

>Shoot him, go look for Patterson (D100)

>Shoot him, Set up a good spot and let Patterson come to you (D100)

>Spare him, go look for Patterson (D100)

>Spare him, set up a shooting position (D100)

>Other
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>1550454
>>Shoot him, go look for Patterson (D100)
>>
>>1550454
>>Other
"You're gonna hang with him, you miserable bastard."

Knock him out, tie him up.

He's getting a rope around his neck and a sign nailed to his chest.
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>1550454
>>1550486
Let me rephrase this.

Knock him out and tie him up, then go look for Patterson.
>>
"You'll hang beside him you dust eater. Because of you innocent people died. For MONEY. you lowdown son of a whore" you growl, spitting at his boots.

"Me? Hang? It'll be a cold day in hell when I hang ye bastard!" snarls Washer, lurching for the unconscious farmhands pistol.

You probably could have dismounted and taken the pistol from him before he managed to get it raised and cocked. But you don't care anymore.

Guardian barks in your hand, the heavy shot tearing through Washers torso, thin blood splattering the ground around him.

With that taken care of you spur Slate on behind the house, following a small trail leading from the back of the property. The dusty ground puffs up behind Slates massive hooves, the faint prints in the dust of Ashtons feet leading you to where you need to go.

Cresting a hill you catch sight of the lone ranchhand ducking into a small hollow into the side of a hill, a quartet of horses tethered outside in the short, yellowish green grass.

You've found Patterson's hideout! Downside, he knows youre coming!
Upside, he has one way out!
Other downside. Its directly through you.

>Knock knock bitches (D100+5)

>Hammer time (D100+15)

Post up on the ridge. Rifle time (D100+10, Bonus due to Disadvantaged enemies)

>Other
>>
Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>1550636
>Post up on the ridge. Rifle time (D100+10, Bonus due to Disadvantaged enemies)
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>1550636
>Hammer time (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 1 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550636
>>Hammer time (D100+15)
>>
>>1550657
anyway nighty-night anons
>>
>>1550698
Ahahahaha shit.
>>
You leap off of Slates back in front of the hideouts entrance. Within you can hear Ashton yelling
"Some bounty hunter done showed up! He done kilt everybody down at the house! Hes right behind me!"

Silence for a moment

"You mean you led him here?" growls a low voice.

"Well... Not on purpose! I was just coming up here to-"

Bang! The gunshot is shockingly loud in the Hideouts. Echoing out and making your eyes water.

Oh well. You don't plan to hear your GrandKids anyway.

You draw justice, the heavy pistol close to your chest as you enter the dark tunnel. Its lit by lanterns every few feet supplying dim red light.

A shadowy figure steps into the light, a burly man dragging Ashton by a foot.
"Who're you?" he asks stupidly, blubbery lips smacking.

Bang! He topples backward, a hole in the hollow of his throat, blood pouring down his chest.

You push him out of the way and bring Justice into the teeth of the thin man attempting to rush you. He falls back, spitting shattered teeth and howls in agony before you stuff Justice into his mouth

Bang! You paint the dirt wall behind him with his brain, Splattering Chunks of flesh across the floor.

You kick his corpse out of the way, stepping on his face as you thumb back Justice's hammer, stepping into the main chamber where your Quarry and his final companion await.

>Kill his Friend, Take him alive (D100+15)

>Kill Them Both (D100+15)

>Kill his friend, Challenge Patterson. Quickdraw time (D100+15, Specify your shot.)

>Other
>>
>>1550698
You have a habit of rolling ones once im already rolling and its hilarious.
>>
Rolled 69 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550730
>>Kill his Friend, Take him alive (D100+15)
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>1550730
>>Kill his Friend, Take him alive (D100+15)
Blammo
>>
>>1550735
i must be cursed!!
also havent had dinner my bet has it
>>
Rolled 94 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1550730
>>Kill his Friend, Take him alive (D100+15)

Time for righteous ANGER
>>
One of the bandits is squeezed against the wall, edging toward his shotgun leant against a small, ramshackle table.

Bang! A bullet ends his sneaking across the wall, blood and tissue in a perfect circle on the dirt behind him as he falls, eyes wide open in shock.

Patterson regard you coolly.
"Killed all my men huh?" his voice is light, conversational.

"All of them" you reply just as coolly.

"And the fellas at the ranch?" he raises an eyebrow, eying justice in your hand.

"All dead too. Except for one, figure you'd need some company at the rope" you smile viciously, watching his eyes twitch.

"Oh I don't intend to hang Scalper! Not at-*BANG* AH!! Fuck!!! MY HAND!!" he screams, holding the spurting stump with his remaining hand, the pistol he had been drawing a shattered ruin on the floor.

"Can't let you check out early can I James? You've got a date" you smile, stepping forward and slamming the butt of Justice into his temple with calculated force, sending him tumbling to the ground, eyes fluttering dazedly.

You quickly tie off the bleeding ruin of his hand, cinching the belt tight as you can. He wont need the hand where Hes going.

You drag him out of the hideout by his feet, dumping him next to Slate.

>Tie him With one of your rawhide Strips

>Tie him with Rope
>>
>>1550994
>>Tie him with Rope
Bring the old man along too. Even if he's dead, he's still going to hang. We promised he would. Preferably from his legs with a sign nailed to him saying, "I HELPED BANDITS".
>>
>>1550994
>Tie him with Rope

I'm late, but this quest looks cool as hell. Loving the feel of it so far.
>>
OH, SHIT, I FORGOT ABOUT WHAT THEY HAVE IN THE HIDEOUT!

See what we can find off of them.
>>
>>1550994
>>Tie him with Rope
>>
>>1551114
too late just send some one to pick up the loot
and we get a payment from it
>>
I should have gone to sleep 3 hours ago but this was FUCKING worth it. Can't wait for more.
>>
>>1550994
>Tie him With one of your rawhide Strips
Guys, I had us buy the rawhide strips for this explicit purpose. QM said that rawhide is more difficult to break out of.
>>
>>1550994
>Tie him With one of your rawhide Strips
>>
Theme of this encounter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZxSAA43H8Y
>>
>>1551623
Fiiiiine.

>>1551028
Switching to rawhide. Still want to drag the old man's corpse with us to hang him, though.
>>
>>1551745
Is there even enough of him to hang?
>>
>-1 Rawhide strips.

Hauling one of the long, thin strips of stretched rawhide from your pack you expertly hogtie Patterson, his elbows bound with his own gunbelt and a length of cord running between them to his ankles, keeping constant tension on him. You sling him over the back of one of the hitched horses out front and slap his face until he regains consciousness as you finish tying him to the horses back

"Comfy Patterson? Let me know if the ropes are too tight will you?" you smile cheekily, patting his cheek as he sputters against the filthy sock serving as a gag.

You step into the hideout and take a brief look around. Not a lot of loot here but couldn't hurt to take a look

>Select Three

>1 Small First aid kit
>1 week Food
>1 12ga Shotgun × 4 12ga rounds
>2 .38 Pistol × 19 .38 Rounds
>Lantern × 1 can of oil
>Small, Locked Chest × 1
>Leather Duster- Heavy but it keeps out the elements and the thickened portions on the shoulders and back will protect you in melee combat.
>Patterson's Pistol × 11 .357 rounds
>Scalps of Patterson's gang × 3
>1 Pouch Tobacco
>1 Bottle Rotgut whiskey
>>
https://discord.gg/DcDBhw

Discord. Get in here bitches!
>>
>>1551765
>Scalps of Patterson's gang × 3
>Small, Locked Chest × 1
>Patterson's Pistol × 11 .357 rounds
Can't we simply replenish the rounds we used?
Also what type of weapons are the shotgun and pistols?
>>
>>1551783
You can replenish your ammunition from enemies that use the same type.

The shotgun is a pump action, the pistols are Revolvers.
>>
>>1551783
Forgot to mention. Patterson's pistol is severely damaged due to it being shot out of his hand
>>
>>1551787
Yes but do we have to vote for it or we do it regardless
>>1551793
Wait i'm retarded, i thought that Patterson was the old man we killed, replace
>Patterson's Pistol × 11 .357 rounds
with
>Leather Duster- Heavy but it keeps out the elements and the thickened portions on the shoulders and back will protect you in melee combat.
Also Autocorrect/Captcha Combo fucking with me.
>>
>>1551765
>Small, Locked Chest × 1
>Leather Duster- Heavy but it keeps out the elements and the thickened portions on the shoulders and back will protect you in melee combat.
>Scalps of Patterson's gang × 3
>>
>>1551765
>Small, Locked Chest × 1
>Leather Duster- Heavy but it keeps out the elements and the thickened portions on the shoulders and back will protect you in melee combat.
>1 Bottle Rotgut whiskey

Any chance we could put the scalps in Patterson's pockets so he could carry it for us?
>>
>>1551765
>Small, Locked Chest × 1
>Leather Duster- Heavy but it keeps out the elements and the thickened portions on the shoulders and back will protect you in melee combat.
>Scalps of Patterson's gang × 3
>1 Pouch Tobacco
>1 Bottle Rotgut whiskey

Maybe we could take the ammo we used, if any of the bullets are compatible with our weapons.
>>
>Op is going swimming for a few hours. Feel free to discuss and plot in the meantime :)
>>
Rolling for first aid. Using the first aid kit present in the stash. Take the duster, lock box, and scalps.
>>
Updated Equipment list
Guardian of the Road- 12ga shotgun sawed off. +10 To Shotgun rolls when defending innocents or mounted.
54 12ga shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
12 12ga slugs
Justice. .44 revolver. +15 rolls against evildoers and creatures of the night.
43 .44 rounds
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 .308 rounds. Can be reloaded or purchased
1 Short Gripped Carbine. .357. 6 round capacity. Skull motif on the side of the Grip.
59 .357 rounds
1 Mail Backed Vest
1 Leather Duster (Fire resistance/ Melee protection
1 Small, Locked Chest
3 × Scalps
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bowie
1 bootKnife
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
1 medium canteen 2 days water.
1 Large canteen. 5 Days water.
3 week of food.
Small shovel
2 large Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
1 sets Rawhide strips. 5ft each.
1 Large First aid kit.
1 Small First Aid Kit.
1 Hygiene kit.
1 Map of Daston and immediate area

31 Shines
13 Clinks
14 Dulls.
>>
>>1555495
Forgot the Cat-oil and cheap whiskey again, boss...
>>
>>1555665
Updated Equipment list
Guardian of the Road- 12ga shotgun sawed off. +10 To Shotgun rolls when defending innocents or mounted.
54 12ga shells. Can be reloaded or purchased.
12 12ga slugs
Justice. .44 revolver. +15 rolls against evildoers and creatures of the night.
43 .44 rounds
1 Bolt Action rifle. Scoped. .308. 6 round capacity.
30 .308 rounds. Can be reloaded or purchased
1 Short Gripped Carbine. .357. 6 round capacity. Skull motif on the side of the Grip.
59 .357 rounds
1 Mail Backed Vest
1 Leather Duster (Fire resistance/ Melee protection
1 Small, Locked Chest
3 × Scalps
1 Tomahawk.
1 Bowie
1 bootKnife
1 Bedroll.
50ft rope.
1 medium canteen 2 days water.
1 Large canteen. 5 Days water.
3 week of food.
Small shovel
2 large Bag of Mule Feed
Gun cleaning Kit
1 sets Rawhide strips. 5ft each.
1 Large First aid kit.
1 Small First Aid Kit.
1 Hygiene kit.
1 Bottle Captain Dales sipping whiskey (opened)
1 Bottle cat Oil. (Elusive)
1 Map of Daston and immediate area

31 Shines
13 Clinks
14 Dulls.

>Better?
>>
>>1555889
Looks good.
>>
NEW THREAD
>>1556814




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