main
side
curve

Horror Red Sands

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Ramza, Jun 22, 2015.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008


    [​IMG]

    It was high noon, though the term had lost much of its previous significance. The sun shown faintly through the blood red sky, giving the desert surroundings an eerie crimson glow. The gunman rode on, his horse advancing at a steady gallop despite the sandy terrain.

    Looking to the horizon, he saw his destination. An immense obelisk jutted out from the sea of sand, its white rock seemingly untouched by the wretched excuse for light that had long coated this corner of the world. Within minutes he had reached its base.

    There, as he had expected, sat an old woman clad in a worn brown poncho. She did not look up at his approach - instead, her eyes were fixed upon a cow skull, its bleached bone glistening red in the noonday sun.

    <<La vaca dijo que vendría>>, she informed the gunman.

    “Did it say anything else?” the gunman asked, guessing at her general meaning.

    No response came.

    The gunman squatted down in front of the old woman, and regarded her features. It was impossible to gauge how old she was, especially without a better light source, but in any case her skin was well-worn and wrinkled like tired leather. Reaching his right hand into his holster, he drew out his gun and pointed it at the woman in one swift motion, almost too fast to see with the naked eye.

    No reaction came.

    He then turned the gun and extended his left hand, so that the center of his palm rested on the barrel, and, wincing, he pulled the trigger. His blood, splattered on the sand, was barely noticeable under the red sky. A few drops drizzled down onto the cow skull. The old woman leaned over and kissed the skull wear the blood had landed.

    The offering was accepted.

    The old woman extended her arms around the gunman, and drew him into an embrace. Her fangs tore into his jugular vein.

    He grinned.

    [​IMG]



    The year is 1901. The west is lost.

    On December 29, 1899, an impossible eclipse darkened the prairies and deserts. It lasted for two hours, an omen of things to come. On December 30, the sky turned red forever. Day and night ceased to exist. On December 31, the first town fell to the creatures. Vicious bloodsuckers - they came, and what they did not kill, they assimilated. They had many names, but the newspaper editors, eager to capitalize on dime novel trends, picked the most straightforward: Vampires.

    The place is Santa Zita. The town is being lost.

    Santa Zita is a small town in New Mexico, equidistant between Santa Fe and the Mexican-American border. Somehow, inexplicably, it has escaped the vampire menace without outside intervention. But now a body has turned up - it is a headless corpse, drained of blood, untouched by even the wolves. By all evidence a drifter who would have been of no consequence had he not been found this way.

    The game is Red Sands. The game cannot be lost.

    For reasons known perhaps only to you, you are in the town of Santa Zita when the drifter’s corpse is discovered. The meaning is clear - there are vampires in the vicinity. The US Marshals have imposed a strict lockdown of the surrounding area; there will be no escaping the events to come. It is presumed that the town is doomed. Perhaps you can avert that destiny. Perhaps you will facilitate that destiny. Perhaps there is a third path yet to be uncovered. One thing is for certain - no matter what has come before, what occurs in Santa Zita will forever alter the course of your life.​



    Rules

    [ol][li]Character sheets must be submitted to the GM for approval.[/li]
    [li]Godmoding is prohibited, as always.[/li]
    [li]Characters should have a reason for being in Santa Zita.[/li]
    [li]Characters may be vampires, but should keep in mind that openly flaunting their powers will probably get them shot (Which is problematic) and decapitated (Which is lethal). If you choose to go this route, I’ll let you know what the power suite is like.[/li]
    [li]Players acknowledge and accept that the game is being run by Ramza and consequently might get weird.[/li]
    [li]We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe.[/li][/ol]



    Character Sheet

    Name:
    Age:
    Appearance:
    Equipment:
    Biography: (As much or as little as you’d like. Should include why you are in Santa Zita.)
    GM Notes: (Anything I should know that the other players shouldn’t. Obviously, don’t post this part.)




     
    Ktala likes this.
  2. Penguinator

    Penguinator Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    May 23, 2005
    Approved and so on.

    Name: Santiago
    Age: Around 27
    Appearance: Tall, dark and handsome, permanent stubble - quite the looker, if his eyes weren't an eerie grey, wide and staring. Santiago wears a wide-brimmed black hat, a dark and greying poncho overtop a lighter jacket and riding pants. His boots are mightily scuffed, but were once made of pristine leather. He wears a tattered red scarf.
    Equipment: A pistol, two knives, a battered canteen, and a smallish satchel he keeps near at all times. Inside is a journal, matches, and a pressed flower.
    Biography: Santiago is a Spaniard, but he's forgotten much of his past save for his name. Luckily, his journal tells him he was once the son of a wealthy ambassador to the Americas, who either fled or met a grisly once the sun faded. Santiago's experience in the aftermath of this waking nightmare has driven him past wit's end. He is, simply put, mad. He drifts ever onwards, in search of safety, silence, a warm meal, and respite from his dreams.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  3. JediMasterAnne

    JediMasterAnne Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2004
    Ramza Approved
    Name: Caroline Anderson
    Age: 19
    Appearance: Average height, slender build, but has the right curves in the right places, and usually wears dresses that emphasize the fact. She has red-blonde hair, blue eyes and light skin.
    Equipment: She keeps a knife hidden in one of her boots, and a small pistol is strapped to the other leg.
    Biography: Caroline grew up in the bars and saloons of Santa Zita, wherever her mother happened to be working at any given time. She does not know who her father was, and suspects that her mother did not know either--he could have been any one of the many men her mother had entertained at the time. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn't around to support them. Her mother made ends meet waitressing, singing, and selling her body in the town's various watering holes, but she died of illness when Caroline was fourteen. Caroline tried to get work elsewhere, away from the saloons, but found that she did not possess any marketable skills (she can read and write, but that was the extent of her education), and was forced to go back to the bars. She started off as just a waitress (she can't sing), and for the first few years she managed to get by, but she finally had to resort to selling herself around the same time the sky turned red, though she has only done so a few times. She has heard a few things here and there about vampires, but since none have been seen around Santa Zita, she hasn't given much thought to the matter.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  4. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    Ramza Approved!

    Name: Milton "Mitt" Warren
    Age: 53
    Appearance: Tall and imposing, his chiseled face might have once been considered handsome, but time has not been kind and it has left his features lined and weathered, giving him the appearance of having a permanent scowl. He walks with a limp due to an unspecified injury and his graying greasy hair is almost always tucked up underneath a brown stetson.
    Equipment: He keeps a pistol and a knife underneath the folds of his overcoat, a gold pocket watch and a satchel that contains banking records and other various plans pertaining to the ‘business.’
    Biography: A former Sergeant during the Spanish-American War, Milton is currently employed by the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad (CRIP). While he never seemed to have too much business sense, many believed that he was there solely to whip others into shape and to intimidate potential clients into accepting the company’s terms and conditions as they work on their southwestern expansion. That’s what ultimately brought him to Santa Zita. The plan was to close a deal that would bring the railroad through the area…but all of that came to a halt when the body turned up and the whole damn place went into lockdown.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  5. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Approved by da man: ;)

    Character Sheet

    Name: (Sister) Esmeralda Tornada (Elsie)
    Age: 21
    Appearance: A tall and lanky young woman, she is very beautiful...even when wearing her Nun habit and clothing, which is a light gray and tan. Hazel eyes peer out from tanned skin, and her long black hair is hidden when her hair is covered. She wears a heavy wooden cross around her waist, and a smaller one around her neck. A medium sized leather satchel she keeps with her contains many things, but an old, weathered, leather skinned bible is what she is seen with the most.
    Equipment: Smith and Wesson leg irons (2), one Smith and Wesson pistol, kept hidden, a Smith and Wesson rifle, she keeps hidden beneath the voluminous robes of her clothing. Knife, water canteen, rations, small cooking kit, tinder, bandages, small knife, small bottle of alcohol (Medicinal), small needle and thread, small branding iron, bundle of wood. Bowie Knife tucked away.

    Biography: Esmeralda (Elsie, SISTER Tornada to you) is a member of the 'Our Holy Mother of the Immaculate Conception of Smith & Wesson!' And she dares you to say otherwise.
    [​IMG]
    Esmeralda was born in an old west border town between the US and Mexico. Her parents were poor, farmers that moved about frequently, looking for work. When her mother found out she was pregnant, her father worked hard to come up with enough money to buy a tiny patch of land to call his own. They were poor, but they managed to scrape enough to barely keep ahead of things. Then a nasty disease swept through the area, and her mother died. Her father, not really knowing what to do with a girl child, taught her how to fend for herself, helping with the chores, keeping a eye out for danger, and tending to the few animals that they did own. And she would likely have still been doing it, until her father decided he should marry her off, to some tinhorn city slicker. Elsie wasnt having any of that!

    She packed her stuff and disappeared off into the night, taking her horse with her. She bounced around from city to city, looking for work. A saloon girl was always available, and she was coming close to taking up the job, till she found a church. Maybe it was a sign, and she decided that becoming a nun was a better alternative. She was good at patching folks up, and holding her own. She would help to feed the poor and the hungry, but if any of them coyotes got the wrong idea, they found out that she was fast with a shotgun too. Tough love, as she called it.

    Then, one night, a raggedy Preacher came into town. He was a sad looking sight, and with a wild story to tell. She offered to bring him food. She knew some were con artists, but this guy seemed different. So, she listened to his wild tales. She would have brushed him off, as a preacher man with a knack for the hard stuff, but the events of the night soon told her his story was true. That was a few weeks after the skies had turned red. The locals went nuts.She followed the preacher after that, leaving the church behind. 3 months later, Preacher Tom died. It seemed like a good time to leave.

    She is alone, as both she and a tired horse make their way into Santa Zita, looking for a room while she figures out what to do next.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  6. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    GM Notice: Sorry for the delayed start; I'm visiting family and haven't had as much time to devote to the start as I would like. This is a 24 hour warning if anyone wants to get a CS in before we begin, though I won't be closing admissions. Expect a kick-off tomorrow.
     
  7. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    Day One
    Vampires!​
    The word was a malaise - no one dared to speak it aloud as if in fear of what it might bring down on the town, but it didn't require speaking. It could be felt. It seemed to spring forth fully formed from the murmurings of the assembled townsfolk, called together by the esteemed Mayor of Santa Zita, one James Fenny. He was notable principally for making his modest fortune in shrewd trade negotiations, secondly for the appetites his rotund figure illustrated, and thirdly for being slow to act.​
    "Good people of Santa Zita!" Fenny began, hooking his thumbs in his overall straps. A silence fell over the crowd. "You may have heard the recent pronouncement by the illustrious Marshal Potts, in his position as an official representative of our beloved United States government, of a temporary - and I stress the word - temporary zone lockdown of our fine town of Santa Zita and the surrounding areas owing to the specific nature of the ongoing investigation."​
    The definitive article was a given; no elaboration was necessary as to which investigation.​
    "As your mayor, I urge you - residents, visitors, impeded passers-through, what have you - to remain calm. This is no doubt a difficult and stressful time for all of us, but I remind you that there have been numerous documented instances of false alarms vis a vis the... er... question at hand."​
    Mayor Fenny wouldn't say it, either. A bad sign! An omen!​
    "To that end it would best suit us to exercise caution and civility. The sheriff -" he indicated Sheriff Williams, who gave a telling nod. Or fell asleep. It was hard to tell with the old man. "- in coordination with the mayor's office and local volunteers, have instituted a security task force and a curfew -" not much point in a curfew with the perennial red sky "- to help keep us safe until the Marshal's office gives us the all clear which, I'm sure, will be a matter of a single week, at the most."​
    The crowd's murmuring began again. A cow mooed. Loudly. Repeatedly.​
    "Will someone please silence their animal?"​
    A severed cow head fell with a wet plop onto the podium.​
    The crowd erupted into a massed, violent panic. The monsters were among us! An omen! God has forsaken us and we will all be killed! Trampling, rocks flying, fists thrashing out!​
    And as for Santiago, Caroline Anderson, Mitt Warren, and Esmeralda Tornada?​
    Well, the whole town had been in attendance. They would have to find their own ways out of the crowd.​

    TAG: @Penguinator JediMasterAnne HanSolo29 Ktala
     
  8. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Sister Tornada (Elsie)
    Santa Zita


    Standing on the outskirts of the crowd, but just close enough to hear what had brought all these people together. She held her cloak around her, staying silent as she heard the round man speak. Sounded like a politician to her. What caught her ear however, was the mention of a lockdown of the area. She wondered who was going to impose it, and how. The man who was supposedly the sheriff, Sheriff Williams was it, didnt seem much too worried about it, or anything else for that matter. A interesting reaction indeed.

    Then was a cow being loud in the crowd. Quite a bit. As Elsie looked through the crowd, she heard the Mayor speak out:

    "Will someone please silence their animal?"

    The man was answered with the response of a severed cow head, that fell with a wet plop onto the podium. Elsie choked back a sound in her throat as the crowd in front of her erupted into a panic. A en-massed, violent panic the crowds tend to fall into. They acted the same as the cow, in truth. The crowd erupted into a massed, violent panic. Rocks, people began to move in no particular direction, as they thrashed out. Elsie sighed. She had seen this reaction before. Folks not calling on the All Mighty, till they get ta hurting. Then they be wondering why he aint stepping in to personally lend a hand. But she wasnt ready to be trampled by the masses.

    With a swirl, Elsie threw back her hood and partially opened her cloak, revealing her nun's habit and clothing underneath. She kept the rifle hidden, however, as she moved to the side. Any who moved too close to her would find themselves full of buckshot. The warning shot. Regular slugs to follow, for those not taking a hint. She quickly looked about. She headed for the closest structure, brining up the rifle if anyone got too full of stupid. Be it an outcropping of rocks, or the post for a balcony, she quickly went there, where she could stand in relative safety, while waiting to the mob to disburse.

    Indeed, she might even learn more, as she stood and watched, ready to show a heathen the error of their ways.




    TAG: Penguinator, JediMasterAnne, HanSolo29, Ramza
     
  9. JediMasterAnne

    JediMasterAnne Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2004
    IC: Caroline Anderson
    Streets of Santa Zita

    Caroline wouldn’t say that she knew a lot about the current situation, beyond what she heard in the bar (which was still quite a bit, lately; the body that had recently appeared seemed to be all anyone would talk about), but she knew enough to be worried. Those…things, hadn’t been seen around Santa Zita until now—not that there had been a confirmed sighting, but as far as most were concerned, that bloodless body was all the confirmation needed—and Caroline, like the rest of the population, would prefer that it stayed that way.

    Mayor Fenny’s attempts to calm his restless and frightened town were not having much of an effect, or at least that seemed to be the case, based on the whispers and murmurs that went through the crowd. Even the animals were getting nervous, judging by the sound of a lowing cow.

    "Will someone please silence their animal?"

    Caroline let out an “Oh!” of shock when the cow’s head landed on the mayor’s podium, and the crowd plunged into a panicked frenzy. It was like the worst bar fight she had ever seen times a hundred. Pushing and shoving and punching and things flying left and right—rocks, instead of glasses.

    Caroline wasn’t quite at the edge of the crowd, but with all the insanity around her, it took quite a bit of pushing, dodging and squeezing her way through to get to a relatively clear part of the street. Plenty of others seemed to have the same idea, though, and one man nearly ran right over her, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Another one tripped over her when she tried to get up, and rather than try to stand and risk getting knocked down again, Caroline scrambled to the shelter of an alley between two buildings to wait out the panic.

    TAG: Ramza Penguinator HanSolo29 Ktala
     
  10. BartSimpson-SithLord

    BartSimpson-SithLord Manager Emeritus star 5 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Jan 24, 2002
    Ramza Approved


    Name: Irving Price
    Age: 43
    Appearance: Close to six feet in height with close cut chestnut hair mottled with splotches of gray and an imposing full walrus mustache, his face is frank yet stern with brown eyes and thick eyebrows. He has a medium build clothed in brown pants with a white shirt and a blue and black striped vest as well as black leather boots. He wears a dark brown leather duster over his regular clothes and a dark brown slouch hat.
    Equipment: Colt Frontier (Single Action Army) Revolver, winchester model 1886 rifle, 10 gauge wm Moore & Co coach gun, an "arkansas toothpick" combat knife, a canteen. A brown paint American Saddlebred horse, serialized under "Constantine" but nicknamed "Constant" by Irving due to its steady nature. Saddlebags ready to fill for traveling.
    Biography: Born and raised in the ranches of Texas, Irving would grow up to join the Army and become part of the cavalry. He fought in the Indian Wars, specifically the theaters involving the Sioux. After leaving the army, Irving gained a job with Wells Fargo which allowed him to hire people to keep watch at a small homestead ranch he'd purchased while he was away on business. He was a shotgun messenger, the people hired to keep the lock boxes out of the hands of bandits. When the red sky came he returned home only to find his homestead deserted. Since then he has moved to Santa Zita, still pursuing the life of a shotgun messenger, that is...until the body was found.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  11. BartSimpson-SithLord

    BartSimpson-SithLord Manager Emeritus star 5 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Jan 24, 2002
    Irving Price
    Santa Zita.


    What a difference a few weeks made to the make of the land and its citizens. Price hadn't been back in this quiet town for two seconds before he heard the rumblings under the breath of the townsfolk as he made his way through the square. A body had been found while he had been out on messenger business on the ATSF line to Kansas City. Headless, blood drained completely; a site that he'd unfortunately seen a few times these past two years on the road for Wells Fargo. Always resulted in the same thing. The same intervention and the same lockdown. Some were false alarms, no, most were false alarms; bandits trying to mask their mortality and spook their targets out of money and valuables. The sky may be red but man still ran gold.

    Price and his Constant had arrived back in Santa Zita in the early morning, the day the marshalls officially locked down the area, and he knew the increased Marshal presence meant something had happened. Not usually this many Marshals unless they intend to enforce a curfew. In fact, on the outskirts of town, a Marshal had stopped him for credentials and to contact the Wells Fargo office in Santa Fe for an alibi, even though the lockdown hadn't been officially conducted. As so, he wasn't terribly surprised when notice came that the Mayor was to hold a town forum to discuss the matters that had happened whilst Price was away.

    The crowd that gathered later consisted of every resident of the small New Mexican township, and why wouldn't it? There was a charged element to the murmurs and whispers in the air whilst everyone waited for Mayor Fenny to finally begin speaking. To finally dispel the rumors of what had happened in town. The fervor grew silent when the man began to speak but his words were prepared, dodgy, and political. Words of the already declared lockdown, the work of the Marshal presence Price had noticed when he'd returned, only stirred the crowd's temper. Fenny's pleas for calm stoked a fire of panic building in their stomachs. Noticing the way the people were fidgeting about, Price took a couple steps back out of the crowd. Out of the powder keg he could tell was forming. Fenny had lost them, he just didn't know it yet.

    The mention of a curfew along with the lockdown, and his refusal to call a body a body, brought the whispers and the panic to the tipping point. Even the animals were getting anxious as a cow began to moo loudly...

    Repeatedly...

    As if in a panic. That was not agitation, he'd spent most of his adult life resting on a ranch when he wasn't traveling. He knew what agitated cows sounded like...this was different. And then it went quiet.

    "Will someone please silence their animal?"

    The cry came from the crowd, only audible because the animal went quiet at the same time. A sickening thud of flesh on wood erupted through the square and Irving didn't need to actually see through the crowd in order to know the basics of what had happened. Now Fenny would know he had lost them, how could he not? People began to scream, rocks were thrown, everyone looking for a way out, most heading the opposite direction and running face to face into another panicked individual. People were beginning to get trampled. It was pandemonium. If the Marshals had hoped to trap the perp in this meeting, this was the perfect diversion to provide escape. Price shook his head and calmly, with his hand on his revolver, stepped away from the fervor, thankful he had moved out of the scrum before it started.

    As he watched the town erupt into a writhing mass of swinging fists and thrown rocks, he knew the quiet life he'd built here these past two years was coming to an end. And, just perhaps, it would bring him the answers he sought.

    TAG: @Penguinator, JediMasterAnne, HanSolo29, Ktala, Ramza
     
  12. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    GM Notice: This is an approximately 24 hour warning as I'll be updating on Sunday or Monday, depending on some things.
     
  13. Penguinator

    Penguinator Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    May 23, 2005
    OOC: post in this evening, sorry on the delay.
     
  14. Penguinator

    Penguinator Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    May 23, 2005
    Santiago
    Santa Zita

    With the red scarf wrapped snug around his neck, the Spaniard leaned back precariously and hacked up a hollow laugh. The head's sudden descent and arrest had been that sort of comedic gold an author could only dream about, some sort of writerly imagining given shape and form beyond the page. Insanity, he mused inwardly, has excellent timing.

    A fist clocked him in the jaw, and Santiago sunk to his knees, his laugh even more ragged now. He picked himself up slowly, adjusted his hat and poncho. More fists - so he pulled the knife at his waist and swung with reckless abandon. Someone or something shrieked, and he snorted in good humour at that. "Serves you right," he spat, spinning the knife between his fingers. A fleck of blood spun off the tip of the blade, and, transfixed, Santiago watched it soar into the fray, landing unseen on one of the brawlers.

    Stumbling, he turned, catching himself before an awkward fall, moving to the edge of the melee. Of all the things he could see at this moment - A nun?

    "My dear," he called, "what ever is the matter?"

    Then he laughed, holding his hands up as he saw the gun in her hands, sidling by in his janky way.

    Tag: @Ktala, Ramza, others nearby
     
  15. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Sister Tornada (Elsie)
    Santa Zita


    It had been rough, but Elsie made her way over to a wall. Luckily, only a few folks had to eat the butt end of her rifle, while she sought to reach the safety of the wall. Wild panic was something she had seen before, unfortunately. As she looked out, the sound of laughter made her scan the area around her closely. Laughter from this crowd? She soon saw a very tall man, who was wearing a large hat and a poncho. Someone had just clocked him in the jaw, and he was on his knees, laughing. A crowd had gathered around him, when suddenly the drew back. The man was swinging wildly. The yells from the others as they moved away from him, made it impossible for her to hear what he had said. Then the man stood, and looked in her direction.

    "My dear," he called out to her, "What ever is the matter?" Then he laughed, holding his hands up as he saw the gun in her hands, as he passed by.

    Elsie's eyebrow went up, as she watched the strange man move by. He might be crazy, but he still knew what a rifle could do. Then again, with current events, it would hard NOT to find a few folks not quite touched by recent events. She gave the man a hard smile, as she looked at him.

    "Depends..." Only one word. Plenty of meaning to be took by it. "Might wanna move. View is better from the side.", she yelled back to the stranger. The crowd was mostly unarmed folks. Easy to scare. Whoever did in the cow, had to be quick..and with a big blade. Elsie would have suspected the man in the poncho, but he was not close enough to the poor animal. But all the same, she kept her eye on this tall stranger, as she looked for other possible suspects.

    "My God!" she mutters softly, as she watches the chaos explode around her.


    TAG: Penguinator, anyone else who is close enough! Ramza
     
  16. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    The deputy lowered his binoculars and scratched the side of his head. He couldn’t exactly claim expertise with these situations, but he was fairly certain there wasn’t usually a high correlation between a vampire infestation and… raining cow heads. The latter, however, was undoubtably what he had just witnessed through the field glasses. The other deputies looked at him expectedly. How the hell was he going to explain this?​
    “Well by the uh… by the sight of it they were having a meeting…”​
    Go on!​
    “And uh… a… how should I put this? A cow head sort of fell out of the sky and spooked the villagers.”​
    A cow head?​
    “Yeah, a cow head. No, I didn’t see where it came from. Do vampires usually… I mean with the cow heads?”​
    The deputies collectively turned to the expert on these situations, a Monsieur Pierre from Toulouse, which the marshal’s office had informed them was in France, and they took its word for it. M. Pierre used his index finger to push up the brim of his ten gallon hat (What the hell kind of French city slicker wore a cowboy hat anyway?).​
    “Cow head…” the voice was thickly accented “They have the significance. ‘La vaca dijo que vendría’ - a greeting.”​
    The cow said you would come?​
    “Yes. The situation is more… ugh, je ne sais pas. The situation is bad.”​

    From nearly the opposite position with respect to the town as the deputy marshals sat a man who wasn’t there. He stroked a headless cow and told it that everything would be alright in a sing-song voice.​

    The crowd continued to generally riot, and somewhere amidst the commotion the general store’s windows were broken by something. In rational times, the culprit would be assumed to be rocks. In these days…​
    “Demons!” cried a particularly deranged looking old man. “Demons are destroying our houses!”​
    Mayor Fenny ineffectually tried to talk the mob into calming down, but given his usual lack of presence and the general comic ineffectiveness of a man splattered with gore next to a bloody cow head attempting to calm people down, it was working as well as expected. Within minutes a building was on fire - one of the few abandoned ones, luckily, but it would need to be extinguished before the winds picked up.​
    The flames leapt, and danced, and swirled, strikingly yellow against the general red hue that was the norm these days. The manner in which they cast objects in more familiar colors would have been almost unsettling if the citizenry hadn’t been too busy rampaging to notice the effect. Instead, the fire was attributed to demons, apparently a popular causal force today.​
    The keen eyed observers, however, such as Sister Tornada and Irving Price, may just have noticed how the flickering lights caused a decidedly pointy looking object held by a shadowy figure to glint further down the block. Caroline Anderson would most likely have noticed the same figure dart past her in the midst of the confusion. And of course, Santiago was mad, so his observations were wholly his own.​
     
  17. Tim Battershell

    Tim Battershell Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 3, 2012
    Ramza Approved

    Name: "Rem". (Proper Name:- Basil fforbes-Woodstole).

    Age: 27

    Appearance: Typical Englishman, 5ft 10in tall, lean but fairly muscular build, dark hair, blue eyes. Women find him atractive.

    Equipment: Beaumont Adams (.442in / 54-bore) Revolver; Mk 2 Martini-Henry (.577/450) Rifle and British-issue, Pattern 1836, Spike Bayonet; Pattern 1796 Heavy Cavalry Sword. Good selection of clothing in various qualities and styles. Leather Stock neck protector with concealed 'splint' type metal insert armouring - always worn under a Crevat.

    Biography: A Remittance Man, (hence the name I go by) that's what I tell the curious. Quite a few of us about, reasonably comfortably funded by our families provided we stay where we have been put and make no attempt to return to Jolly Old England - at least until the Pater dies or memories have faded! The most common reason is one mishap too many with female domestic staff - Family Employees or belonging to Guests. My response.... "A Gentleman never tells!".

    Why Santa Zita? Why not? Frankly, one place is virtually as good as another to kill time at and I never tend to stay long enough to make a lasting impression.... at least, up until now, where it's beginning to look like I have no choice in the matter.
     
    Ramza likes this.
  18. Tim Battershell

    Tim Battershell Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 3, 2012
    IC: "Rem"
    Santa Zita

    Typical Colonials! How did such a rabble ever manage a successful revolt against British Arms?

    First all this talk of 'Vampires' - that Stoker fellow ought to be horsewhipped from the Tower to Tyburn! Still, the man's only a common theatre manager and assistant to an actor; so what can one expect?

    The cow's head was a nice touch, have to give credit for that - though it was probably launched from something like one of those old siege engines; a catapult or trebuchet, if I remember my history correctly. Probably pure chance it landed where it did. Anywhere in the vicinity could well have had the same effect.

    A full-blown riot! One has to wonder how many of the populace had been imbibing that disgusting liquid the locals dare to call 'Whiskey', and for how long, before the town meeting started. If it had been proper Whiskey; from traditional distilleries in Scotland, now....

    The crash-tinkle of glass is closely followed by the yell of "Demons.... Demons are destroying our houses!". Really! How superstitious! How stupid!

    Then the inevitable. A building catches on fire. Fortunately, it's some way away from my lodgings so, for now, I only need to keep an eye on it in case a hurried evacuation of my luggage becomes necessary.

    I'm glad I've stuck to my normal habit of taking to my bed or a few days on arrival at a new location, otherwise I'd be down there in the chaos. Something to be said for feigning 'a touch of the Sun', although the real reason is to allow me to get used to a town's sounds and rhythms before venturing forth in search of a Saloon. At least one in every town can be counted on for serving up reasonably accurate information just for the price of listening.

    So far during my travels, my collection of armaments hasn't excited much comment; not that I've been particularly keen to put them on display, you understand. If it does, I'll simply blame Pater for making me cart the ancestral ironmongery around as a condition of my 'Penance' and continued funding.

    I'll tell people that the sword was my grand-sire's, carried during the Peninsular Campaign and on to Waterloo; grandfather having become friends with a most unusual Officer - promoted from he ranks by 'The Peer' himself. Normally those 'fish out of water' Officers dive into a bottle and drown themselves, but this chap happened to be a real Soldier and did well for himself. Must have embarrassed the hell out of Horse Guards that he ended the Wars as a Colonel-on-the-Staff, despite never fitting-in in any Officers' Mess!

    The sword may be an ill-balanced brute of a thing, with the one redeeming feature of being heavy enough to smash other swords - and rifles - out of the way in a melee, but the Martini Henry is a very decent weapon. Potent too; the bullets make nice large holes in anything they hit. I'll have to be very careful regarding ammunition, though, the five hundred rounds I have with me might not last very long - not when the Rorke's Drift defenders managed to shoot off all but nine hundred rounds out of a supply of two hundred thousand in a mere ten hours. Turned out it was enough to turn the trick on the day, but a further attack might well have overwhelmed them. That weapon I can describe as having saved my Uncle's life when the Zulus pinned his Column down until Chelmsford could scrape together a relief force.


    TAG: No One.
     
  19. BartSimpson-SithLord

    BartSimpson-SithLord Manager Emeritus star 5 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Jan 24, 2002
    Irving Price
    Santa Zita


    To say that things certainly hadn't improved since he'd extricated himself from the melee would be a dire understatement. The crowd was over worked into a frenzy the likes he hadn't seen. He'd seen battles with more organization than what was happening in this square today. Fists were flying, people were screaming, knives were being drawn and people were hitting the ground. There wasn't much that Price could do except keep an eye out for anyone not caught up in the maelstrom of panic induced violence. Anyone that appeared to still have their wits about them.

    Closer to the wall Irving noticed two individuals manage to pull themselves free of the chaos and begin to speak. Finally, others who were at least sane enough to not get too involved in the panic. Beginning to make his way over to their position, the glass window of the general store behind him shattered. Quickly, he spun around to see what could have happened but it was long over. It was probably just a rock or an errant knife, but the crowd sensed something different. It wasn't long before the cries of "Demons!" began to erupt from the paranoid, panicked, and superstitious crowd.

    Fenny's cries to calm fell on deaf ears, the man was beginning to lose himself, not just the crowd. His face was a mixture of dread, panic, and cow's blood as he screamed for people to settle down. Irving pulled his revolver free as he stepped over to the store where no one dared for fear the demon were still around. He peered into the shattered glass window when he heard the crackle of fire coming from nearby. Lovely, a building was on fire. Luckily he recognized it as one that had been abandoned, but the fire could spread quickly in this wind.

    Damn, he thought to himself as he moved from the store window, There's too much going on.

    And then he caught the glint. The glint of something large and metallic down the block, the fire shining off the tip of the large pointy object. There was no time to think, just time to act. He had to see if this was the person responsible. The rest of the town didn't seem too keen of solving the problem, only on panicking. With a grim determination on his face, Irving Price sped down the block towards the source of the glint, his revolver readied and in hand. Regardless of who, or what, this was...he had a feeling this long day was only just beginning.

    TAG: @Ramza, Anyone else chasing the glint down the block.
     
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  20. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Sister Tornada (Elsie)
    Within the madness, Santa Zita

    Elsie kept an eye on the man who spoke to her earlier, but her eyes were more on the movement of the crowd around her. Luckily, most noticed the weapon she held, and steered clear from her. A window exploded, and nearby an empty building caught on fire. someone cried out, “Demons!” ... “Demons are destroying our houses!” Elsie snorted harshly. Demons? This wild flock needed no demons here. The fools would destroy themselves if not careful. So far, the sheriffs had made no moves....

    Elsie noticed something however. Two things, actually. One, there was a bit of movement. Something very pointy looking, a brief glimmer as it moved down the street away from the ruckus. Also, it seemed as she was not the only one to notice it, as another, a man, turned and began to run down the block, heading towards the strange shape that was rapidly moving away. She was not sure whether to consider him very brave, or very foolish. Hopefully, that did not turn into very dead.

    But right now...

    Sister Tornada moved her covering back, and reached down, bringing up the rifle she hid in her side. Aiming it skywards, she let off a blast, even in this noisy rabble the report was most likely to be heard quite clearly.

    "ENOUGH!"

    She quickly brought the rifle barrel downward. Any foolish enough to attempt to rush her would meet both the second shot in the chamber, and the pistol in her other hand. She had other words to follow, but if the crowd continued to insist being idiots, and least the blast should guarentee her passage, if she moved to follow the man now running down one street.


    TAG: JediMasterAnne, BartSimpson-SithLord, Penguinator, Tim Battershell, Ramza

    WEEEEEEEEEEE! :p
     
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  21. JediMasterAnne

    JediMasterAnne Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2004
    IC: Caroline Anderson
    Alley, Streets of Santa Zita

    She had to resist rolling her eyes as she heard someone screaming about demons; okay, demons weren't destroying the town just now (just panicky people), but Caroline wasn't going to tempt fate by scoffing.

    As she tried to stay hunkered down in her hiding place, out of the way of the riot, she suddenly saw something glinting somewhere in the crowd--something shiny and pointy. Caroline had the very unnerving suspicion that the shiny pointy something was a knife, and the shadowy figure carrying it definitely looked like trouble. As the figure rushed past her, Caroline noticed someone was following him. Before she could decide whether to join the chase was wisdom or foolishness, however, a shot rang out, and her attention returned to the mob. Someone--was that a nun?--appeared to have shot a round from her shotgun into the sky, perhaps to try to quiet the wild crowd.

    Caroline only hoped it worked.

    TAG: Ramza Ktala Penguinator Tim Battershell BartSimpson-SithLord
     
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  22. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    GM Status Update: Hey folks, sorry about the dry spell, had some job and academic obligations sucking up the creative impulses. I'm hoping to get something up in the next couple of days, so if anyone wants to beat the update, I guess this is a soft warning.
     
    Ktala and Tim Battershell like this.
  23. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 8 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    Stillness.​
    An absolute quiet and cessation of movement (With one notable exception, documented beneath for posterity) settled over the crowd, the sounds of rampaging and mêlée replaced by the whistling of the wind and the crackle of the flames, interspersed with the odd, seemingly obligatory cough.​
    Sister Tornada could probably feel the weight of nearly the entire town’s eyes upon her. Many of them were clearly trying to figure out why, exactly, a nun would be packing that level of weaponry in the first place. Still others were nursing wounds of varying degrees of severity as they dragged themselves to their feet. At least a few, including poor old blood covered Mayor Fenny, were apparently too stupefied to settle into a single emotion. Wide eyes and held breaths were not altogether uncommon in any case. How exactly Rem and Caroline were taking all of this… well, that was anyone’s guess.​
    As for the good sister, if she had any plans to address the townsfolk, this would be an opportune moment to capitalize on them.​

    The man who wasn’t there was still not there, but was nevertheless somewhat concerned. He ceased stroking the headless cow. Everything was not alright. He tore off a chunk of the cow’s exposed esophagus and bit into it. Blood and offal dribbled down a nonexistent chin, bubbling from the heat of his anger.​

    The first thing Irving was likely to notice about his quarry was that they were fast. Very fast. Not so fast that he lost them completely, but of sufficient step and gait that it was clear they could increase the gap if they were so inclined. Years of experience would have told Irving that the figure, which seemed to deliberately cling to the shadows to stay out of the already dim red sunlight, was probably toying with him.​
    There was no explanation as to why. But something would have to change from this status quo if Irving wished to make any progress.​
    Tag: @Tim Battershell BartSimpson-SithLord Ktala JediMasterAnne



    GM Note: So at least an element of the current pacing can be directly attributed to when I started this game, but I seem to have an ideal block of open time on Friday afternoons now that the school year has actually begun. I might very well begin to broach something resembling a standard weekly schedule! Madness I realize; we’ll see if it lasts.
     
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  24. Tim Battershell

    Tim Battershell Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 3, 2012
    IC: "Rem"
    Boarding House, Santa Zita

    The crash of a shot brings the rioting to an abrupt end. I get a surprise when I locate the firer, he or she is tricked out as a nun! Wouldn't be allowed in England, but peculiar religions spring up over here like weeds, so nothing too unusual in 'The Holy Sisters of Annie Oakley' or 'The Sacred Order of Calamity Jane'. At any rate, he's/she's shocked almost all the crowd into virtual immobility, or so it seems. Good for him/her! Whether they'll remain quiet, or turn on him/her, remains to be seen.

    There are two exceptions to the common behaviour, both heading almost directly away from me along the local excuse for a 'street'. No finely laid cobblestones here, just hoof-trampled dirt. When, if, it ever rains in Santa Zita, the results should be interesting; along the lines of 'Mud, Glorious Mud'!

    The pursuer in this chase is a typical Westerner, but not dressed as a town-dweller. I can't see the pursued clearly; he's keeping to what shadows this weird red light is casting. He's also managing to stay ahead, almost as if he's taunting the man to his rear. Curious! A Pickpocket perhaps, or something worse? Whatever; his conduct is highly suspicious. Suspicious enough, I think, for what the Royal Navy terms 'A shot across the bows'. Let him try to outrun the threat of a bullet!

    I arm myself. Not the Beaumont Adams, not at this distance, but the Martini-Henry and a handful of cartridges. The loading action is very simple, almost like a Winchester - except that bullets have to be loaded into the chamber one-at-a-time. Not a great inconvenience, a skilled user can fire ten to twelve aimed rounds in an honestly-measured minute. The excess cartridges go into the right-hand pocket of my silk dressing gown.

    I'm now glad that I opened a window for ventilation, and what a job that was, but it does mean I can avoid making a public appearance in dressing gown over my highly fashionable, equally silk, London-bought, underwear.

    One careful aim ahead of the suspected miscreant's feet - making very sure that the pursuer is well clear of my line-of-fire - a smooth squeeze of the trigger and the gun recoils against my shoulder with its usual roar. Now I have to make sure I am ready to receive visitors! A fixed bayonet if they appear unfriendly, some proper clothing - certainly trousers - otherwise.


    TAG: Ramza, BartSimpson-SithLord, Ktala, JediMasterAnne, Anyone else who spots Rem or his gunsmoke.
     
  25. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Sister Tornada (Elsie)
    Wow..that worked, Santa Zita

    The silence than sudden stoppage of movement, was rather overwhelming... for a moment. She had not expected everyone to respond so .. quickly. And now all eyes were on her. She knew that it would not last for long, if she did nothing to captialize on having their attention.

    So she did.

    She swung the shotgun around, pointing it downwards, as she yelled out to the wild congregation in front of her.

    "Deamons? DEAMONS?! The only deamons that be here right now is one of stupidity and foolishness, as they watching ya burn ya own places down." Sister Tornada pointed her rifle at a group of men. "'Stead of swacking each other like a dumb mule, go grab some buckets and put out them flames before the entire town goes up in flames." If they didnt move, she cocked her rifle to make her point. She then looked over at the rest of the crowed.

    "And the rest of ye. You want to stay among the land of the livin'? Then ACT like it. God dont have time to be taking care of fools. If there is real evil here, ya dont need to be giving it a hand, acting like cattle, ready to stampede. That just makes ya real easy prey. Just like that cow."

    Elsie pulled herself up to her full height. "Im Sister Tornada. From da church, Our Holy Mother of the Immaculate Conception.." Elsie gave a slight smile, not quite finishing the sentence...'of Smith & Wesson.' She gave the group a nod. "I plan on staying with the livin. And if any of you idiots threaten that, I promise you will be feeling God's wrath, thru this here rifle. You wanna go kill yerselves, then go do it away from me. I only help those interested in living, or those already on their way out. Which one you wanna be?"

    Elise then looked over to where the Sheriff and Mayor had been standing. "Ya got anything else to say to the group..that's USEFUL? Like a plan, defense, prayer...ammo?" she asked, wondering why the sheriff had not acted before she did. Elsie did worry about the man she had seen running earlier, but right now, she had other issues to deal with.


    TAG: All who can hear her in the area.
    TAG: JediMasterAnne, BartSimpson-SithLord, Penguinator, Tim Battershell, Ramza


    O.C. Sorry for holding up the game. Darth RL is being a SITH!
    :p
     
    Tim Battershell likes this.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.