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QM (ID: !!fxXRIvRaH+W)
The Good, the Bad, and the Magic 1 2016-11-08 01:59:09 Post No. 804474
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The Good, the Bad, and the Magic 1 2016-11-08 01:59:09 Post No. 804474
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The Good, the Bad, and the Magic 1
QM (ID: !!fxXRIvRaH+W)
2016-11-08 01:59:09
Post No. 804474
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You sip from a dusty canteen, the brim of your stetson shielding your eyes from the desert sun. Even so, you still cover your eyes with your hand and squint, peering at the figure in the distance, obscured by the haze of heat. Puffs of dust give you some estimate. Maybe 300 yards away? You sigh and reach to your left, your hand meeting the smooth walnut stock of Springfield rifle, wood furniture decked in gems and carvings. You bring it up to your shoulder, bracing it against the smooth flesh of your under arm. You place a warm finger on the trigger, and time seems to slow. You can almost count on a hand how long it takes for the hammer to go down, the small spark to appear, and the ancillary boom to rock the flat desert, the kick of the gun digging into your arm.
A puff of red and the decreasing size of the figure in the distance gives you a pretty good conclusion. You hit the sucker. Taking a moment to appreciate that beautiful shot, you get up from the rock you were leaning on and saddle your chesnut Arabian horse, pressing her lightly in the ribs.
The desert is a terribly lonely place, and you can come to appreciate the company you get. Well, some of it. The lump on the grown becomes an outline, that outline becomes a person, and that person becomes a young lady, dressed in fine purple clothing, but without shoes or socks. That young lady is seemingly crawling for her life, a trail of blood leaking from the gaping hole in the side of her stomach. She's muttering something but you can't quite place it.
You rub your chin.
"Well Lady de Linqua, I had to chase you from Baton Rouge all the way to the middle of nowhere, and I do say you caused be quite the bit of trouble."
The lady screams and begins to crawl faster, the trail of blood thinning over time, almost to a trickle at this point.
"Tsk tsk, regeneration magic won't save you now ma'am, not when I have a contract on that magical head of yours."
You stride over to the crawling lady, who isn't that fast and place a firm boot on her back, pinning her in place. You level your rifle with the back of that blonde head, pulling back the cocking arm and placing a warm finger on that sweet metal trigger.
[1] Shoot
[2] Hold off
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>>804474
>[2] Hold off
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>>804474
>[1] Shoot
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>>804474
> 1) rape then shoot
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>>804474
[1] Shoot
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>>804474
>Shoot
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>>804621
>>804569
>>804519
Maybe if you tie her up.. wait for that wound to heel and-
Your own thoughts are broken by a gunshot, seems your excitement translated to your finger as well. Doesn't matter, the end result would have been the same. You blink, staring at the mess of red and pink scattered on the desert earth. You grumble and pull out a large knife covered in runes, grab the corpses hand and begin sawing off at the wrist, wincing at the sparks caused by failed booby traps mages tended to put on their corpses. When all is said and done, you stuff the hand into a silk bag, tie it up and put it on your waist. You put your hands on your hips and stare at the beautiful skyline. You sniff in the warm air, turn around and walk over to your horse, chomping on a shrub.
You mount the mare and set off at a steady pace back towards your little rock perch, passing it and falling alseep in the saddle as the slow pitter patter of hooves against hard earth compliments to your fatigue.
Your eyes open in the middle of a hum ding town, desert stretching for miles across it. You quickly pull your horse to the left, towards the sheriffs office. Hopping off the horse you enter and approach the bounties desk, and drop the hand in the sack onto it.
"Caught Lady de Linqua."
>"Bull fucking shit you did, show me the hand."
You open the sack and pour out the hand, which the man behind the desk takes, as he pulls out a sheet of papers. The words Lady de Linqua scribbled onto the paper above a strange symbol, which matches the one on the hand.
>"Hooly shit you actually did it. How tight was she?"
"You know I don't do that, where's my pay?"
The man takes out a decently large jewelry box, opening it up and showing you a mixture of paper currency and gemstones.
>"Fifty dollars and the magical gem rewards, as promised." The man smirks.
"Thanks for your business. Any other mages on the run?"
>"One out in St. Louis, strangling poor boys who try to buy her as a hooker. Changes shape, illusion magic. Well, he changes shape."
"I don't like cities, you know that."
>"Of course I do, but come on, quite a bit of money, this one."
You grumble and agree, and the man writes down on a slip of paper, which you can only assume helps them track who's hunting who.
You walk outside after filling your canteen in the sheriffs office and mount your horse. It's a long fuckin' way to Saint Louis...
The red dot is you.
Roll 1d20 the first leg of your journey
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Rolled 14 (1d20)
>>804834
>>
Rolled 9 (1d20)
>>804834
>>
Rolled 18 (1d20)
>>804834
Rolling for tailwind
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>>804842
You make great time, considering the rocky and sandy terrain that would plague any normal man. By nightfall, you feel like this trip is starting off with a bang. You tie your horse to a stake you pounded into the ground and set up a tarp against an outcropping of rock, and light a small fire to cook some meat and heat water.
Sleep eventually creeps it's way into your camp, and you feel yourself getting tired. You say your prayers, and make ready for bed, but then something feels odd.
[1] I can't sleep now, there might be something out there.
[2] It's nothing. Superstition is for old nannies, and I need my sleep for tomorrow.
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>>804950
>[1] I can't sleep now, there might be something out there.
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>>804950
>[2] It's nothing. Superstition is for old nannies, and I need my sleep for tomorrow.
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>>804950
>[2] It's nothing. Superstition is for old nannies, and I need my sleep for tomorrow.
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>>804950
>1 listen to spidey sense
Sneak out of your camp and watch for people/things sneaking up in it. If the fire is still going you'll be able to regain your night vision that way too.
nb4 it is just some sand in our vagina, fucking desert
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>>804950
>[1] I can't sleep now, there might be something out there.
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Rolled 1 (1d2)
>>805010
Rolling for the money
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>>805055
You never were ultimately a suscpicous man, but you do have some sort of sixth sense when it comes to things. You grab your rifle and scurry up to the rock you're using as a house. You press yourself against the rock, scanning over the wastes of sand and red rock, spotting nothing except a lone coyote, which collapses in the desert.
[1] Aw shit, it's just a dog.. I should help it.
[2] Nature works in mysterious ways, I won't mess with the balance of anything.
I have to go for the night, might not be back on very soon tomorrow. Expect me at the latest, maybe 5 PM
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>>805146
>[2] Nature works in mysterious ways, I won't mess with the balance of anything.
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>>805146
>[1] Aw shit, it's just a dog.. I should help it.
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>>805146
>2 fuck off doggo
We already have to feed horsey, don't want to look after a pathetic mutt too
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>>805146
>[1] Aw shit, it's just a dog.. I should help it.
Coyote might be a trickster spirit or something
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