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TOPIC: R6 - 'Roar! Hide!' Deadlands Reloaded

R6 - 'Roar! Hide!' Deadlands Reloaded 4 years 3 months ago #956

  • mikeawmids
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Deadlands - Sessions 5 & 6 Bumper Write-up

The air was thick with the gritty taste of gunpowder as the posse unloaded every ounce of lead at their disposal into the armored hide of the Mojave Rattler. Austin's enhanced bullets detonated with blasts of flame or crackling electricity - and yet it still wasn't enough to bring down the behemoth. Helpless townsfolk ran blindly through the dust, stumbling through the wreckage of their homes. Voices cried out for mothers, fathers, children - for anyone who would listen.

Once again, the posse had become distracted trying to kill the unkillable monster and Miss Appleby had to remind them that the (literal) plot device to defeat the Rattler was located in her workshop behind the school house. Theo escorted the schoolmistress to fetch the mcguffin. Cobb dragged himself after the slayer, his life threatening injuries pointedly ignored until Austin took pity and cast Numb on the dying huckster (the power does not remove wound levels, just allows the PC to ignore the negative modifiers they cause). Cobb feels like he's just chugged a gallon of Red Bull and charges back into combat, blissfully ignorant of the trail of intestines unspooling in his wake.

Meanwhile, in Miss Appleby's workshop, Theo nods his head vigorously and pretends to understand the complex instructions to operate the inventor's device.

"The machine will create a seismic wave that attracts the Rattlers," Miss Appleby explains, "We'll lure it back to the mound and use these canisters of distilled ghost oil to blow it to hell!"

"Hold on," Theo interrupted, "You expect me to lug this heavy gear all the way back to the nest?"

"How else are we going to get it there?"

Suddenly the classroom doors burst open and Antonio rode into the school house. The effect would have been much cooler if he hadn't struck his head off the door frame on his way in, but hey-ho.

"Come with me if you want to live," the Mexican said, swinging Miss Appleby onto the saddle behind him, "Oh, sorry Theo. No more room up here. Guess you'll have to stay and, well... adios!"

Antonio spurs his horse out of the school house (banging his head off the door frame again on his way out) and towards the rampaging Rattler. The monster roars and lunges towards the reckless Mexican, jaws agape and reeking of carrion. Antonio does not alter his course and races straight towards the beast's cavernous gullet. The rest of the posse watch in awe.

"I can't decide if he's really brave or really stupid." Austin said.

"Actually, I think he might be unconscious." Bob Twofeathers observed (repeated blunt force trauma to the head will do that).

Cobb Whately staggered over to see what all the fuss was about. Austin and Bob politely ignored the mongrel dogs worrying the huckster's trailing guts. Having been educated, re: Antonio's predicament, Cobb rolled up his bloody sleeves and cast Quick on the Mexican's long-suffering horse. Suddenly, Caballo's natural pace increased tenfold and the beast rocketed out of danger, leaving a trail of burning hoof prints in its wake.

"Well, let's just hope Miss Appleby knows what she's doing." Austin said.

The rest of the party sat twiddling their thumbs until they all felt a series of tremors shake the very ground beneath their feet. Mommy Rattler must have sensed it too, for she immediately abandoned her rampage and burrowed back into the earth - presumably returning to her nest. Moments later, the towering mound exploded, burying the monster and what remained of her foul brood beneath several thousand tonnes of stony rubble.

While the people of Coffin Rock bury their dead and begin rebuilding their town, the posse recline in the ruins of the saloon and knock back a few brews, recounting their (grossly exaggerated) roles in the days events. But there is no rest for the wicked (or the righteous) and it isn't long before another NPC ambles up with a glowing yellow exclamation mark floating over his head.

"Ohnonono!" Antonio cries, scrambling away from the approaching quest giver, "Piss off, amigo! Can't you see we're drinking here!"

But the prospect of XP is too alluring to resist and the posse agree to hear the fellow out.

"Howdy strangers!" he begins, remembering to observe the finer trappings of cowboy slang, "Remember how we foreshadowed all those missing children two weeks ago? Well now you have to find them. I just this moment remembered that shortly before they upped and vanished, the town was visited by a charismatic - yet likely evil - preacher."

"What makes you think he was evil?" Theo asked.

"Well now, he left this here wooden cross behind when he left. See how it has been inscribed with sinister sigils and daemnic sigaldry? That struck me as odd at the time, but I plum forgot to mention it until just now."

"Speaking as a dabbler in sinister and daemonic rites," Cobb said, "I can vouchsafe that those markings are about a 6 out of 10 on the scale of pure, concentrated evil."

"Wicked priest luring children off to nefarious purpose...." Bob grunted, "Sounds Catholic."

Theo throws the tainted crucifix into the campfire and stares into the flames until it has been reduced to ash. The rest of the party hit the sack, anticipating another early start.

Having learned that the charismatic - yet likely evil - preacher headed off in a southerly direction, the posse gallop after him, hoping to pick up his trail out on the open range.

"I can smell him," Theo assures the others, "The rancid stink of unrepentant evil, the putrid reek of impenitent wickedness! We're drawing near, I can sense it!"

"Actually... that might be my socks." Bob grunted, "Cobb told me that soaking them in horse piss every morning will keep the bad spirits away."

Cobb sniggered.

Yet coincidentally; the posse were drawing near the target of their search. Cresting a scrubby hummock, they spotted a solitary wagon abandoned before them. Anguished cries for food and water could be heard faintly over the rustling of the tumbleweed, yet none of the children had ventured from the bed of the covered wagon. Theo projected his consciousness into one of the two horses hitched to the wagon and establishes that the children are chained to the benches, unable to move. Sharing the mind of a horse has some unforeseen side-effects and for the next few days, Theo finds himself craving apples and shitting standing up.

"Let's get down there and save those younglings." Austin said, being all heroic and pro-active.

"Woah, rein yourself in skippy," Theo replied, "Sure, we could just go down there and rescue the children - OR we could stand about and spend several hours of real time bickering about it."

"I like the second option." Bob said.

So several hours pass and eventually the posse agree upon a ridiculously convoluted scheme to approach the wagon from different directions, on different days of the week, wearing silly hats.

"Finally! Can we go now?" Austin cried, bottling up that homicidal rage into a dark corner of his soul "Hold on, where's Antonio? And what's that ominous rumbling sound? Oh, great. More off those f***ing monsters."

Although smaller than the specimen that had devastated Coffin Nail, the swarm of Mojave Rattlers erupting from the ground to the posse's rear were still worryingly large (each about the size/length of a steam locomotive). Abandoning their painstakingly laid plans, the posse mounted up and galloped towards the wagon. Startled, the horses hitched to the wagon spooked and ran. Antonio and Theo managed to hurl themselves onto the speeding wagon. Antonio took up the reins while Theo traumatizes the terrified children. At this point in the game, there is some discussion as to whether steering a horse-drawn vehicle should be determined by the Driving or Riding die, the jury is still out on that one. Regardless of the die type required, Antonio finds himself careening towards the lip of a deep ravine and after being told sternly by the GM that he cannot perform a barrel roll, grudgingly attempts to turn the panicked horses off to one side.

Austin Ripley sees that the wagon is in trouble and spurs his horse up alongside. He leaps across and lands beside Antonio on the driver's bench.

"How do you steer this thing?" the Mexican cries, "I keep rolling my Riding die, but that's not doing shit. Do you have any skill points in Driving?"

"Stop breaking the fourth wall and hand me the reins!" Austin yells back.

Austin manages to bring the horses under control and turns the wagon away from certain doom. Several of the pursuing Rattlers are too slow to change course and take a nasty tumble into the gorge. They explode when they hit the bottom because awesome.

Meanwhile, Cobb spots a solitary figure watching the chase and approaches warily. The stranger turns out to be a stereotypical native-american shaman - either that or he's one of the Village People. Cobb notes that the fellow isn't wearing assless pants and so decides that it's probably the former.

"Are you controlling those monsters or are you here to help us?" Cobb demands, exhibiting all the social grace of a sexually frustrated cactus.

"Help," the shaman answers simply, beckoning the posse to follow.

The posse follow the shaman passed a series of tribal totems, learning that the carvings mark the boundary of a sacred territory upon which the Mojave Rattlers cannot intrude. He also possesses key plot points regarding the whereabouts of the charismatic - yet likely evil - preacher, whom the tribe call Whiteneck on account of his puritan attire. Apparently Whiteneck and his zealots are holed up in an old civil war fort and doing something awful. What a f***ing surprise.

To be continued....
Last Edit: 4 years 3 months ago by mikeawmids.
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R6 - 'Roar! Hide!' Deadlands Reloaded 4 years 3 months ago #957

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Ha ha nice write up as usual Mike. Benny earned. At this rate you'll have a nice little benny hill. Ha! I said 'benny hill'. You know... Benny...I...erm... Oh forget it...
Why does my D20 only go up to 4?
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R6 - 'Roar! Hide!' Deadlands Reloaded 4 years 2 months ago #966

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Deadlands – Session 7

Having spent an evening soaking in the culture of the Sioux, the posse rise and ready to depart for Whiteneck’s stronghold. A group of four Native American braves accompany them and only one of the savage warriors (Walking with Shadows) speaks a word of English.

The first day passes uneventfully and that night, the posse settle around the campfire for some mandatory character development. Everyone gets a benny for sharing with the group.

The next day dawns grey and misty, a thick fog having rolled in overnight. It’s a real peasouper, alright – and I mean Heinz Big Soup, not that smartprice crap. Visibility is significantly reduced and the posse stumble along blindly, trusting their guides to maintain their course through the oppressive murk.

Abruptly, Walking with Shadows raises his fist, calling the group to a halt. Bridles jingle as the horses shift restlessly. Noise carries strangely through the fog and the posse begin to hear odd sounds all around them.

Suddenly, a hulking great monster materialises out of the mist and snatches one of the braves out of his saddle, carrying his victim back into the murk. The posse are too shocked to intervene on the warrior’s behalf.

“What the hell was that thing?” Austin asked, frantically fumbling bullets into his gun.

“I think it was a glom.” Cobb replied.

“Isn’t that a Pokemon?” Antonio asked, swaying in his saddle.

“You’re thinking of a Gloom,” Bob replied, “A poison type that evolves into Vileplume.”

“A glom is an undead horror that manifests on the site of a great battle,” Cobb elaborated, “All of the bodies on both sides get jumbled together into one huge, horrible flesh golem.”

Suddenly, the brave’s screaming ceased.

“Maybe he got away?” Antonio suggested.

The mangled remains of the warrior’s corpse landed next to the Mexican’s horse, which reared in fright. One of the man’s arms had been torn from its socket and something had taken a big bite out of his face.

“Here it comes again!” Bob yelled, unloading his shotgun at the charging glom.

The posse scattered into the mist, fleeing in different directions. The glom deliberated for a moment before deciding to pursue Theo’s horse.

“Nooooooo, please don’t hit me!” Theo shrieked.

“Glom Glom - Ok,” said the Glom, wandering off.

The posse exit the fog and eventually manage to regroup. Whiteneck’s fort looms on the horizon. What terrible surprises await in the final session? Find out next week!

To be continued….
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R6 - 'Roar! Hide!' Deadlands Reloaded 4 years 2 months ago #994

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Deadlands Finale – Session 8

Stretched out on the baking, blood red sand, Bob Twofeathers shaded his eyes against the harsh glare of the midday sun and continued to watch Whiteneck’s fort. Rough looking mercenaries guarded the walls. The heat had made the men languid and some were drowsing at their posts. Though the enemy was plentiful, they were not expecting trouble and would be slow to respond when trouble came calling. Bob looked for the Whiteneck’s distinctive black coat, but of the preacher there was no sign. Certain he had gathered all the intel he was going to get, Twofeathers began crawling back towards the spot where the rest of the posse were waiting.

Moving stealthily, Twofeathers was able to observe the rest of the group before they noticed him skulking into the shaded nook where they had made camp, shielded from the worst of the desert’s oppressive heat. Austin was focussed on his craft, pouring arcane powders into the shotgun shells that Bob would utilize in the attack. Theo and Cobb sat apart, petitioning their respective deities for deliverance in the battle to come. For a moment, Bob could not locate Antonio – then he spotted the feckless Mexican passed out drunk in a rapidly evaporating puddle of his own sick.

“What did you find out?” Austin asked, straightening up and handing Twofeathers a bandolier of enchanted buckshot.

“Many foes.” Twofeathers grunted, settling down with his back against the sun-warmed rock, “Well armed, well provisioned but poorly trained. They are not expecting an attack, so surprise will be our greatest weapon. We approach under cover of darkness and climb the wall.”

“What happens once we’re over the wall?”

Twofeathers shrugged and closed his eyes.

“Get some sleep, it’s going to be a long night.”


A lone coyote howled at the crescent moon as the posse crept over the cooling sand towards the fort. Whiteneck’s men had lit flaming torches to hold back the encroaching darkness and stood huddled in their pools of dancing firelight. Even the guards on patrol carried torches, allowing Twofeathers to gauge how long each circuit of the walls would take and time the attack accordingly. The two surviving braves scaled the palisade like bronzed spiders and lowered ropes for the rest of party to follow.

Suddenly, one of the patrolling sentries has the inexplicable urge to turn 180’ and start walking back towards the posse. Cursing beneath his breath, Twofeathers reaches for the knife tucked into his boot – but before he can pounce, Theo raises his rifle and draws a bead on the approaching mercenary.

“I got this!” Theo whispers, “I found one of those magic bullets Austin gave you back at the camp, you must have dropped it. Took some effort to force a shotgun shell into my rifle, but I managed to do it!”

“Wait, stop!” Austin hissed – but it was too late. Theo pulled the trigger and the rifle misfired, exploding in his grip and blowing off both arms at the elbow!

“You can’t fire shotgun ammo with a rifle, you bloody tit!” Austin snapped as the tragic slayer stared in horror at his two bloody stumps.

Alarm raised, the rest of Whiteneck’s men began swarming along the battlements. Twofeathers unloaded his shotgun into the front rank to give the posse some breathing room (or bleeding room, in Theo’s case). Brandishing his rapier, Antonio hopped down into the compound and engaged the men emerging groggily from their barracks. The privy door burst open and a huge bear of a man emerged, trousers around his ankles and a murderous glint in his eye. The great brute closed his unwashed hands around the Mexican’s throat and held him there, struggling for breath. Cobb noticed Antonio’s plight and summoned a deck of glowing playing cards into his hand. With a flick of his pallid wrist, the Whately huckster threw a card towards the Mexican’s antagonist. The card sliced through the mercenary’s skull – not killing him outright but causing immediate and irreversible brain death.

As the gunfight continued, both sides began to notice tremors in the ground, rattling the walls and unsettling their footing. Suddenly, several Mojave Rattlers erupted from the desert surrounding the fort! Tongue-like tentacles snaked out and snatched men from the walls. Setting their differences aside, the heroes and the surviving mercs abandon the walls and gather in the compound, beyond the reach of the blindly probing tentacles.

“Where’s Whiteneck?” Twofeathers demanded of the terrified gunmen, “Where’s the preacher?”

“Down below, in the milking chamber,” the merc spokesman answered, leading the posse to a large, heavy trapdoor leading into the fort’s crusty underbelly.


Leaving the remaining braves to guard the prisoners, the posse descend through the trapdoor into a dark, dry tunnel lined with sturdy metal doors. The first and second portals open onto a lavatory and dormitory filled with row upon row of small, child-sized beds. The children themselves are found behind door #3, shackled to the benches where they sat; sealing and labelling bottles filled with a viscous, grey fluid.

“The Last Supper,” Cobb read off the label of one such vessel, “I have heard of this. It’s a new drug being circulated around the cities back east. It’s supposed to give you a real buzz, but addicts are driven to acts of cannibalism! We need to learn how they’re brewing this foul stuff and shut down production.”

The posse soon discover the answer to Cobb’s question. The adjacent chamber is an enormous, cavernous space dominated by the writhing, groaning body of a Mojave Rattler. Lengths of sturdy chain hold the monstrous worm in place, whilst technicians in rubber coats extract its bodily fluids via a complex tangle of translucent tubes. A heavyset man bedecked in the vestments of a priest supervises the milking process.

“Whiteneck!” Twofeathers called, levelling his shotgun at the false cleric, “Time to meet your god face to face.”

The masked technicians activated their electrified shock batons and moved to intercept the heroes. Those caught within the blast of Twofeather’s shotgun were reduced to dog food. Antonio held the rest of the gimps at bay while the posse focused their fire on Whiteneck. Despite his infernal shields, the corrupt clergyman soon succumbs to the barrage and his bullet-riddled corpse collapses to the ground.

Twofeathers steps over the priest’s body and puzzles over the control panel for a moment before selecting a lever seemingly at random and giving it a tug. The chains securing the captive Rattler slacken and the monster begins crawling towards the exit tunnel. Unfortunately, Theo was standing a little too close to the gate and was snagged by one of the worm’s tentacles as it passed, reeling the slayer into its mouth and crunching his bones into paste. The party mourn.

The End…?
Last Edit: 4 years 2 months ago by mikeawmids.
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rhodsey - Tue 25 Feb - 21:55

@mike can you bring those DND blank sheets from the library on Thurs please incase we need any?

TheRanger - Thu 20 Feb - 17:55

I ay got anything planned. I'll give it a miss too

rhodsey - Thu 20 Feb - 17:42

Unless any of the saltmarsh group want to do a one shot I'll miss tonight as well. If any of the waterdeep people want to grab me about anything just PM me on here.

min - Thu 20 Feb - 16:53

Hey guys, I won't be there tonight. Caught what feels definitely like the plague. Will be there next week though!

MellyMel - Thu 20 Feb - 14:36

I shall be giving it a miss then. Ho hum

Mr. B - Thu 20 Feb - 12:25

To Orienteers B - we still suiting and booting for tonight?!

Aka - Thu 20 Feb - 09:17

saltmarsh guys sorry cant make it tonight

MellyMel - Mon 17 Feb - 13:35

cheers vic - he's sorted now

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