The Good, the Bad, and the Undead

[j0lt]

The year is 1898.  William McKinley Jr. has been President for two years now.  The economic depression known as “The Panic of ‘93” is finally beginning to turn around, and the latest gold rush has sent thousands of young prospectors to pan for gold in the frozen wastes of Alaska.  Ragtime music’s popularity is at an all time high, and more and more people are becoming literate and enjoying such contemporary tales as Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes mysteries, H.G. Wells’ fantastic stories of the future, as well as the gothic horror sensation from England: Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  With the turn of the century in sight, and the last vestiges of the frontier tamed, more and more people are moving west to make a new life for themselves.

You currently find yourselves rattling along the northern edge of New Mexico on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad.  There are no more than a dozen passengers altogether in this section of the train.  Among the various greenhorns, prospectors, and families, you notice a tall somber-looking man dressed in a long black leather duster slouched in his seat with his black hat worn low over his face and his dusty boots propped up on the opposite seat.  Beside him, next to the window, lies a doctor’s bag and worn canteen.

Please use this time to introduce your character with a description of how they look and what they’re currently doing.

[MasterVega]

A slightly short, but broadly built man turns his green eyes back down to his newspaper after taking notice of the man. He pushes up his brown cowboy hat up again for easier reading and continues his quiet diversion while calmly reclined with one soldier boot resting atop the other shin. His clothes are plain, a simple pair of dark gray trousers, a work shirt and a vest of similar hue to his pants.

[Bozwevial]

The compartment door slides open, and a tall man with slightly lengthy brown hair steps into the room and sprawls onto his seat, taking up as much of it as he can without putting his boots on the woman next to him. Ignoring the odd looks he's receiving, he checks his own belongings to make sure they're still there, then turns to stare at the ceiling. After a short while, he winces and stretches his right arm. Giving a furtive glance around, he reaches into his pocket and produces a hip flask, which he surreptitiously takes a small sip from. He replaces the flask, then begins to fastidiously brush dust off of his expensive-looking black boots, his less-ostentatious light blue shirt, and his brown pants (about as far from rich-looking as it's possible to get), again ignoring the scandalized looks from the woman in the seat next to him, whom he is currently covering in a small cloud of the stuff.

[jacemachine]

I was tired.
The train ride was getting to me; the uncomfortable seats, the unwashed bodies. I'd been riding the rails for about a day and a half-- with the same to go still.

"The Lord Jesus loves your son, Mildred. 'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.' From Psalms 30:5.” I said, quoting.

Mildred Clanton's son had come west months earlier, following the California Dream. His last letter to her had been full of self-doubt, and now this old bag of fleas needed some encouragement.

I haven't always been this... cynical. But once I finally determined for myself that there was no benevolent deity looking out for His sheep, I had already wasted most of my life following myths and fantasies. At 33 years of age I had few other options.  I was a preacherman. And that was that.

I gave her my most comforting smile, and I felt hollow as I offered to pray with her. I knew that I could easily excuse myself afterward and I did. I gave the excuse that I needed some time alone with 'Our Father', and I retreated towards the side of the train car that had the least amount of people in it.

I dressed in the expected fashion of a man in my trade. Preacher's black hat upon my head. The black frock coat. In my hand I carried a King James bible, one of three that I owned. This one I used when working. The two others had different purposes. I was normally clean-shaven, but I had a day a and half worth of whiskers growing out of my chin.

I nodded civilly towards the other passengers I passed along my path. But once I got to my seat, and sat down I dropped the facade once again. From my coat pocket I picked up my flask. I didn't have near enough apple jack whiskey to nip from for the trip and I've had to be conservative. Still, I wanted to get my head spinning, so I took more than my rationed allotment this time.

[BowenSilverclaw]

Taking a swig of whiskey, an unshaved man, wearing a long brown coat, looks out the window. He seems to stare in the distance, not looking at anything in particular, his face devoid of any expression.

[j0lt]

It's high noon on the second day out from Kansas City (for those of you who boarded the train there).  The northern New Mexico weather is hot and dry.  Barren desert stretches out for miles to either side of the tracks, with the occasional mesa or deadwood forest standing out on the horizon.  The monotonous rhythmic click-clack of the train's wheels brings about a certain drowsiness to everyone on the train.  Some of your fellow travelers are trying to sleep as best they can while others speak in hushed voices about this or that, though nothing of much import really catches your attention.

The man in black that you had noticed earlier appears to be sleeping.  He doesn't appear to be like the other travelers, and you would assume he was a bounty hunter or Pinkerton agent, except for the fact that he carries no visible weapons.

Suddenly you hear the shrill scream of a woman from the next car, and the adjoining door slams open revealing a grinning pointy-bearded man wearing a long black leather duster.

Will Saves and Initiative Checks, if you please!

[BowenSilverclaw]

Will save: 19
Initiative: 13

In case it's something shadowy, Knowledge (Arcane Lore): 21

"Sonuva..." the man mutters as he sees the bearded figure in the door opening before cutting his tirade short, seeing as there is womenfolk on the train.

He quickly reaches for his rifle as soon as he sees the figure, hoping that it will be effective enough.

"Does anybody have any silver items?" he then calls out, ignoring any strange looks from his fellow passengers.

[Bozwevial]

Will save: 1d20+5=18
Initiative: 1d20+2=6

On the off chance that it is a Shadow creature:
Knowledge (arcana): 1d20+7=27
Woot, natural 20!

The tall man's head snaps up at the sound of the woman's scream, and he instinctively moves his hand nearer to his holster, resting it lightly on the gun strapped to his side. He quickly looks around until he sees his satchel under his seat, then turns his attention to the newcomer.

"What the hell is going on here?"

[MasterVega]

Will Save: 5
Initiative: 13
(Depending on what the will save is for, Cedric might not get a chance to say anything... so I'm going to wait for a description of ill effects if there are any noticeable ones.)

[jacemachine]

I opened an eye at the sound of the woman's scream from the other car. I saw the man coming through the door. Likely a woman had spotted a rat. The idea amused me.

One of the other passengers had yelled out a second later-- Calling out a fervent request for Silver? Maybe the woman had screamed because this man had a partner in HER car. I decided to play it safe. I didn't ride all this way in the hellhole of a train car with these... people, just to die in a blasted robbery.

I  raised my hands in the air. That must be it. It must be some sort of hold-up-- to the unshaved man, wearing a long brown coat... and wielding a rifle, I said: "There's is no need for violence son. The folks here will give you whatever silver, or gold we may have. None of that is worth our lives."

Will Save - 1d20+1 = (7) (an additional -2 for drinking (5) )
Inititiative - 1d20+3  = (16)

[BowenSilverclaw]

"No man, this isn't a robbery!

I don't want your riches, I was askin' if anyone had any silver items so they can be used as a weapon!

Take a good look at the man in the door opening!"

the man yells as he walks out into the footpath and starts aiming for the bearded figure.

OOC (to J0lt only):

Maybe a Spot check for the rest to notice the guy's (vestigial) horns or other unnatural features?

Damnit, I'm really looking like a raving lunatic here

[Bozwevial]

The tall man's eyebrows raise as he stares at the bearded man who has entered the car. He rises from his seat and calls to the rest of the car's passengers, "Everyone stay back! Browncoat here knows what he's talking about." Drawing his revolver and leveling it at the grinning man, he says in a calm voice, "I do believe you may want to reconsider. You just hop," he puts a slight emphasis on this word, "off soon as you can, there'll be no trouble. Try killin' anyone, that's like to change."

[j0lt]

OOC (to Bowen)

That's what the Will Save was for.  For your mind to accept the truth of what you see.

I like your enthusiasm guys, but no actions until your turns, please.
Initiative order:

•   "Man by the door": 18 (5)
•   Man in Black: 18 (2)
•   Zeke (Jace): 16
•   Frank (Bowen): 13 (4)
•   Cedric (Vega): 13 (2)
•   Bones (Boz): 6

The man in the doorway's grins widens slowly.  You see the body of the "sleeping" man in black tense up as if about to make a sudden move when the man in the doorway charges down the hallway towards the back of the train and out onto the observation deck, laughing almost maniacally.

The man in black jumps to his feet and throws open his doctor's bag, only to pull out the largest revolver you've ever seen.  You'd swear it was a Colt Peacemaker if the barrel weren't nearly 3 times too long!

Striding into the middle of the aisle, the man in black looks over at Frank.  "You a hunter?"

Zeke, you're up!

[jacemachine]

Hands still in the air, I glanced towards the man in the doorway. The grinning pointy-bearded man wearing the long black leather duster looked the same as when he first did. Regular, like you or me. He ran past. Some other guy said something about 'Hunting'.

The next thing that I was doing was grabbing cover in my seat. I didn't know what they were playing at, but lead was lead and it made you dead.

I had some lead of my own if it came to that... I decided then to withdraw my hollowed-out bible, a makeshift holster for one of the only things I actually DID believe in, my Colt Thunderer.

With its handle grip in my hand, but still concealed by the leather cover on the King James bible, I felt much better. Perhaps these fools yelling about gold and hunting will kill only kill each other.

Of course then I'd have to perform their final rites... oh what a bother.

[BowenSilverclaw]

I like your enthusiasm guys, but no actions until your turns, please.

Don't worry, just some minor fluff and mostly talking. Figured that couldn't hurt, talking is a free action after all

Striding into the middle of the aisle, the man in black looks over at Frank.  "You a hunter?"

"I have some experience...

You have any silver?" Frank grins.

[BowenSilverclaw]

J0lt, do I have Line of Sight to the bearded guy?

Frank then takes aim and fires a shot at the bearded figure just outside the passenger area.

"Eat lead, scum."

Move to about 15 ft. from the door opening and fire a shot.

Attack: 22
Damage: 16

A decent start of the campaign methinks

[MasterVega]

Having discarded his newspaper the moment the bearded man entered the car, Cedric grips his Winchester and glances back at the man dashing toward the back of the train. Perhaps this is not his business, or perhaps it is. He knows precious little of the situation, though the man in black and the rifle-wielder seem to have enough of an idea to act. The Irish descendant has no intention of letting a possible robber escape, however. In one motion, he stands and takes a step into the isle while he brings his own firearm up and takes aim.

"Dead or alive, boys?"

Hopefully that's not too many actions. The glance back was reactive to the guy blasting past him, drawing the weapon was a move action, and standing up/peeking out of cover was my attack action converted to a move action.
Taking aim is really just for flavor since I neither have Dead Aim nor the remaining actions to make use of it.

[BowenSilverclaw]

"Dead." Frank calmly answers, his face filled with contempt.

[Bozwevial]

Bones has little desire to mince words with the bearded man, but it's apparent that there'll be bloodshed, and the fewer passengers he has to patch up, the better. Vaulting off his seat, the tall man moves to where he has a clear shot and draws his own revolver.

"You jump off here, no one'll be the wiser. These folks know the score, and so do I."

Move action to rise and move to a position that gives me a clear line of fire, another move action to draw my weapon.

[j0lt]

Frank's shot takes the figure clean in the chest, but he barely flinches, in fact, his grin seems to widen.  Taking a mock bow, he replies with a surprisingly cultured-sounding British accent.  "Jump?  If you insist gentlemen..."

He quickly turns on his heel and leaps off the back of the train, but at the last moment his hands shoot up to grab the edge of the roof and he swings up and over, disappearing from sight.  You hear the thud of booted feet landing solidly on the roof of the train.

The man in black grumbles something under his breath and grabs his medical bag.  "Yeah, I got some silver bullets, but only in .45 Long Colt.  We gotta get that thing before it can escape, I've been trackin' it for months and finally figured out it'd be on this train.  I reckon I could use a hand with this, you afraid o' heights?"

He starts to walk purposefully towards the back door of the train.  Just then, the door from the dining car slams open again.  A singed looking man wearing what was once a very expensive suit stands there gasping for breath with a fancy-looking dinner knife in his hand.  "Where is he?  I'll kill 'im!"

Initiative order:

•   "Man" on the roof: 18 (5)
•   Man in Black: 18 (2)
•   Zeke (Jace): 16
•   Frank (Bowen): 13 (4)
•   Cedric (Vega): 13 (2)
•   Bones (Boz): 6

After seeing the uncanny display of acrobatics, anyone who failed the Will Save may retry.