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  • #46
    Originally posted by Prometheus878 View Post

    Or she killed the previous owner and took the dress.
    A straight-forward and reasonable answer? Not on my watch.

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    • #47



      Ash decided she would test Em's patience. "I'll take one, and raise," she declared, and tossed a sizable amount of money to the already sizable pot.

      Em gave a toothy grin, passed Ash a card, matched her bet. The next man over folded like a paper fan, tossed down his cards, and started rubbing his forehead. The other four players dropped out too, leaving Ash and Em to fight over the pot.

      "Alright. Show 'em!" said Em, and put down her hand. She also had two pairs - red Aces and Eights.

      "My my. Never seen that before," commented the player on Ash's right - the bleary-eyed teamster, who had not found reason to leave the saloon.

      The decider between two equal hands was the fifth card. Em had a Five of Diamonds. Ash had a Queen of Hearts, and so the pot went to her.

      "Oh, hard luck!" said Ash, making no effort to disguise her satisfaction. She reached accross the table and swept the heap of coins towards her while Em fumed and clenched her fists.

      "Another round!" Em snapped. She started dealing another hand, not bothering to pass the deck.

      Three or four more exchanges was enough to for Ash to take Em's measure. Em liked to bet high, no matter what hand she had. When she won, she'd get cocky and bet more. When she lost, she'd get angry and bet even more than that. She tried to buy out the other players at the table, and pretty soon they'd all quit except for Ash, who had plenty of money to spare, and the teamster, who didn't seem to care that he couldn't match any bets. Ash was counting cards, and she could tell Em wasn't cheating. But she wouldn't surrender the deck - when she wasn't dealing, she'd keep her hand on it like she expected someone to try to grab it. Em's caution, if that's what it was, didn't help her recklessness. Pretty soon Ash saw Em was running out of money, and the bounty hunter reckoned that the wanted woman would become unmanageable if Em lost completely.

      Instead, Ash started losing. She'd fold on good hands and bet high on poor ones. She made bad trades. She watched the teamster and did what she could make sure he couldn't win either. Within the hour, Em was flush with cash and crowing with glee.

      And then Ash made her move. "Alright, I'm all in," she announced, and she pushed all her remaining money to the middle of the table.

      Em stared at the neatly stacked coins. A rapacious smile grew on her face. "All in!" she said, and pushed her own disorganized pile of money to the center. The teamster grunted noncommitally and did likewise.

      Everyone showed their cards. Em had a trio of Sixes. The teamster had a pair of Kings. Ash had nothing but a high Seven.

      Em snorted and started laughing, dragging all the money on the table towards her with both hands. "All in on a Seven! Damn, but you're stupid! Who taught ya to play cards!?"

      Ash shrugged. "Just a bad gamble. Didn't think you'd call my bluff."

      "Ya thought wrong! Heh. We should do this again. Call me any time you want your dumb ass kicked!" Em started stuffing the coins into her pouch. It was getting dangerously full.

      "Sorry to disappoint, but I won't be in town too long. But since you're taking all of my money, maybe you can do me a favor," replied Ash, letting herself sound just a little sour.

      "What's that?" Em looked up with a surprised expression.

      "I got a letter here, for your boss."

      Em's cheer left her immediately. Her face became guarded, and her body tensed. "What've ya got to say to him?"

      "Nothing," Ash lied. "I just have a message to pass on." Ash deliberately ignored Em's growing hostility and dug a folded piece of paper out her pocket. She held it out to Em, who snatched it and unfolded it without a word.

      Em's eyes scanned the paper for a long time. Finally, she asked, "What's this say?"

      Ash rested one arm on the table and propped her head on it. "That's for your boss to know. I doubt he'd appreciate you reading his messages."

      One-Eyed Em hissed and carefully folded the paper back up. "...Fine. Why not. But next time, pass on yer own damn letters." Em finished gathering up her winnings and stormed out. A lot of the tension in the room went with her.

      The teamster let out a sigh. "Can you believe she's the kindest of the bunch? Bandits, thieves, and worse. Who's got you delivering their mail?"

      "With all due respect, mister, you're safer not knowing," said Ash. She got up from the table and went to the bar for another drink.

      One-Eyed Em was part of Stitch-Eye's gang of course, and so the letter was naturally for the chief outlaw himself. And that message, which Em could not read, was...
      • A challenge signed with Ash's name. The bounty hunter meant to call Stitch-Eyes out for a noontime showdown.
      • A challenge with no name on it. Somebody meant to call Stitch-Eyes out for a noontime showdown. But Ash didn't plan to make an appearance as herself.
      • A cryptic list, including the names of over twenty people Stitch-Eyes had killed. One of those names was crossed out.
      • Something else?
      OOC Commentary:
      Ya'll gave me some mixed messages for this one, so... I decided to do everything? Eh, whatever. Have some bonus text I wrote while I was trying to decide what to do.

      Ash's first thought was to launch herself into space. But where to find a rocketship?

      BTW, what do you think of all this poker nonsense? I'm not sure how familiar you all are with card games, or if you need any knowledge to understand what's going on.
      Last edited by semicasual; 06-26-2017, 12:58 PM.


      On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

      Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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      • #48
        A challenge with no name on it. Somebody meant to call Stitch-Eyes out for a noontime showdown. But Ash didn't plan to make an appearance as herself.

        I know nothing about poker, but I didn't have a hard time following what happened.



        Are you in the market for some Martial Arts? Perhaps some custom Artifacts for your campaign?

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        • #49
          A Cryptic List. Ash wants to talk to Stitch Eyes first. Try to get a measure of the outlaw before challenging him.


          I write things.

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          • #50
            Ooo, the Cryptic List sounds really cool, but I think it's time for our alter ego. A Challenge with no name on it


            I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
            I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

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            • #51
              Hmm... cryptic list is cool, but we should probably save that for a really important bad guy. A challenge with no name on it.

              I didn't have any problems following the game.


              Mouse monk riding a tiny pig avatar courtesy of the very talented forumite Jen!

              Jen's original portrayal of Mouse Monk, featuring some human or other named Tybalt Farwander.

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              • #52
                A cryptic list. Time to get the measure of the gang leader.

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                • #53
                  ...A challenge with no name on it. Somebody meant to call Stitch-Eyes out for a noontime showdown. But Ash didn't plan to make an appearance as herself.

                  She closed her tab and left the saloon. Then she saddled up King and rode off into the desert. She would bivouac north of town that night.

                  The next day, near to noon, a different stranger came into Freewater. She was on foot, alone, with no baggage on her. No one could say which way she'd come from, only that she appeared in the main street without any warning.

                  The White Plains Ranger wasn't tall, but she seemed to loom over everyone around her. . A dull red poncho hung down to her waist, making her appear larger than she was. The shade from a wide, flat-brimmed hat concealed her eyes, and a red bandana covered the rest of her face. She had red hair, too, hanging down her back. All those shades of red in the sun gave the one the impression of a burning coal, rolling down the road.

                  She walked past the saloon and towards the hotel in the center of town. Folks kept out of her way, noting her purposeful stride and the iron on her hip.

                  The hotel was called the Saddle Rack, and it was one of the only buildings in town that boasted two stories. Situated between the general store and the barber's shop, it used to be a fine stopping place for traveling merchants, pilgrims, and ranchers. A sign with a set of hooks used to hang over a front porch, shaded by the balcony level above. Now, somebody had torn the hotel's sign down and crudely painted "Under new management" accross the front of the building in rough, rust-colored letters. One of the ground floor windows was shattered and only covered over with a curtain. Several stakes with human skulls mounted on them were stuck into the dirt beside the front porch. A couple of those skulls still had some meat on them.

                  Six people were waiting on that porch, lurking in the shadow. As the Ranger approached, they all rose to attention and started filing out into the street. One of them was One-Eyed Em. She'd changed out of her dress and was now wearing some rough leather overalls over a linen shirt and steel-capped boots. A large wooden club studded with nails, metal shards, and other sharp objects rested on her shoulder. "So, yer the one who wants to take on the boss!" she called.

                  Another one was a smaller man, tanned with a short beard, dressed in what seemed to be his holiday best. He had a fine dark blue suit, topped with a silk coat and hat of the same color. He had to be sweating like a pig in a sauna, but he looked comfortable enough. "My apologies," he said, with a slight Delzahn accent, "but I took the liberty of reading your letter. Rather than disturb our... employer... with your nonsense, we have decided to take the initiative and accept your 'challenge' ourselves." He wasn't carrying any visible weapons, but the Ranger saw he always kept his hands near his coat pockets. "If you are not, in fact, here to suffer a violent death, I suggest you leave posthaste."

                  The other four were toughs, dressed in spotty laborers' clothing. Two had clubs, like Em's but smaller. One was holding a two-handed rider's saber. The last had a chain with a weight on one end of it - a small boat anchor, maybe. They grouped up behind Em and the well-dressed man.

                  The Ranger didn't leave. She stopped and stood in the middle of the road, about twenty feet away from the gang in front of her.

                  "She ain't leavin'," commented Em. "Fine! So what do ya want carved on yer headstone, dumbshit?"
                  • "..." The Ranger didn't answer. Ash had a distinct voice, you see, and figured that not talking made it her that much harder to recognize. Besides which, it added to her mystique. So she said nothing. She just drew her flame piece and raised her other hand to gesture for them to come at her.
                  • "I'm the White Plains Ranger," she said, and she tilted back her hat so they could see her eyes. "The hand of Justice, come to end your evil ways." Her right hand plunged to her holster and whipped out her flamepiece, as quick as you could blink. "Now, fall to your knees, and beg for salvation!"
                  • "Me? I'm nobody," said the Ranger. "You're not going to kill a woman just for walking down the street are you?" She threw back her poncho and drew her flame piece. "That's mighty impolite."
                  • "'Dumbshit' is fine," the Ranger growled. "I can bury you all under that marker and save some time for the gravedigger." She drew her flamepiece and cocked the hammer.
                  • Something else?
                  Last edited by semicasual; 10-20-2016, 01:04 PM.


                  On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                  Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

                  Comment


                  • #54
                    "..." The Ranger didn't answer.

                    Actions speak louder than words. Mostly because, Flamepieces are loud when fired.


                    I write things.

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                    • #55
                      "..." all the way. Our actions speak for us. I think if we speak as the White Plains Ranger, it is only when strictly necessary, never for quips. Make Ash stand out as the one who can't shut up, and the Ranger never speaks unless there's great need. Don't be mute and obtuse, just stoic and purposeful.


                      I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
                      I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

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                      • #56
                        "........"


                        Are you in the market for some Martial Arts? Perhaps some custom Artifacts for your campaign?

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                        • #57
                          "'Dumbshit' is fine," the Ranger growled. "I can bury you all under that marker and save some time for the gravedigger." She drew her flamepiece and cocked the hammer.


                          Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                          An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                          • #58
                            "..." The Ranger didn't answer.


                            Share your wonders in The Artifact and Evocation Workshop

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                            • #59
                              "..." The Ranger is definitely the strong, silent type.

                              Here's hoping we get to see some Righteous Devil Style in action!


                              Mouse monk riding a tiny pig avatar courtesy of the very talented forumite Jen!

                              Jen's original portrayal of Mouse Monk, featuring some human or other named Tybalt Farwander.

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                              • #60
                                • "..." The Ranger didn't answer. Ash had a distinct voice, you see, and figured that not talking made it her that much harder to recognize. Besides which, it added to her mystique. So she said nothing. She just drew her flame piece and raised her other hand to gesture for them to come at her.

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