Pretending we're in Venice and not Baton Rogue

Making our way down the river we eventually reached the flooded remains of Baton Rouge and met the locals, who were rather surprised to learn that a horse had been trained to go outside to take a dump. The locals seem friendly enough. Maybe next time we find out they actually want to turn us into gumbo?

Courtesy of Monday 14 November 2016's Deadlands: Hell on Earth session at Odin's Table.

Player 1: “I’m not a massive fan.”
Player 2: “You’re fairly massive, though.”
(P1 throws P2’s dice on the floor)
Player 2: “It’s a good thing we’re not childish here.”

“We’ve grown up with it.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”

(after spending half the session not having started the actual game yet)
“We’re not gonna get any roleplaying done tonight, are we?”
“No, and there will be many quotes you can’t note down.”
Shit Roleplayers Say – only giving a voice to the wrong ‘uns.”

“This is giving me Top Gear flashbacks.”

GM: “After about ten minutes punting on the pontoon …”
Player (singing): “O SOOOOLE MIIIIIO …!”

“You have ONE die in Animal Handling?!”
(to Templar, sitting on his horse … on a pontoon floating down a river)

GM: “She’s very weathered.”
Player: “Is her name Katrina?”
GM: “No, and she’s not waving.”

“It was a different time back then. Wait, we’re in the future.”

“Phantom Fingers – good for lifting up trains. For everything else, there’s dynamite.”

“This is my horse Scabbard, but I call him Sheathe.”

“I can’t do that.”
“That’s because you’re a dirty, dirty Syker and he’s a servant of God.”

“For skills, for a normal person, I’m fucking useless.”

To be continued!