We ventured up some stairs, opened a door, saw some baddies, threw some dynamite into the room and took cover - and blew up half that level of the cave. Including the stairs, which we're going to need to go up, seeing as how our date with Stone is set to be up top.
Instead, we worked our way down the corridor, opening random doors and encountering aliens trying to kill us (and a Chinese man being in the process of being turned into an alien in a most painful way), until we eventually found a generator room ... which also contained the portal to the future. Unfortunately, that's not where we need to go right now. Not without a certain stone ... and there's us, having blown up the staircase and everything. Way to go.
On the plus side, we found a room full of alien tech, and one of the beings we killed had a kind of translating gadget collar ... which we promptly fitted to Scraps (Reynard's dog). He turned out to be translated into a posh English accent (while he's more Deep South in Reynard's head, confusing the heck out of him) - at least until it got damaged. Now, he barks at us in Japanese instead. Kamikazeeee!!
Courtesy of Tuesday 22 November 2011's 1st Edition Deadlands adventure at Chimera.
Reynard: “‘Bloodthirsty’? Does this mean I have to eat people?”
Player: “Are you carrying the dynamite?”
Reynard: “Yeees …!”
Player: “Dear God!”
Mary: “Can someone put a hand through your stomach?”
Reynard: “No!”
Mary: “Would it be too insensitive?”
“Do you want to see him explode?”
“Yes! Come on! Forget about the powers, let’s go!”
“I have to be opposed to it ...”
“Because SOMEONE has to.”
“If you start eating something and it doesn’t fight back, it’s probably dead.”
(to Jackie) “It’s funny; since you’ve become a player character, you’ve become a lot more cowardly.”
“Age just creeps up on you like a slow escalator at Tesco.”
“Nine minutes 45 seconds later …”
“We’re all dead.”
“Again.”
Reynard: “I keep getting the feeling I’m the meat shield here.”
GM: “Okay, so you kick open the door.”
Player: “No, I just open it.”
“Enjoy dying!”
“I’ve already died.”
“Enjoy re-dying?”
“They’re not aliens, they’re Chinese!”
“That’s worse! That’s proper racist, that is!”
“If Slick was here, he’d probably say they’re only treating him for jaundice.”
“I hold the door, stand to the side … What’s the wall made out of?”
(fortune-telling in corpse bits) “All the arms have gone to one side, don’t go out on Wednesday.”
“All this high-tech weaponry and we’re still using dynamite.”
“There isn’t a problem that can’t be solved by the subtle application of dynamite.”
“Why are we bothering with stealth checks? We’re about to blow the place up.”
“Holy crap, we open-ended the dynamite.”
Player 1: “We should’ve just tied dynamite to the bottom of the Tower.”
Player 2: “Why didn’t we?”
Player 3: “…WHY DIDN’T WE?”
(To GM after big explosion) “Do you want us to make another stealth check?”
“It’s like a D&D power gamer’s wet dream, isn’t it?”
“That’s why there’s no dynamite in D&D.”
“On the bright side, we might’ve blown up a whole other room full of villains.”
GM: “Roll a D4.”
Reynard: “NO!!”
Player: “Stupid probability curve.”
(Mary has a coughing fit from the explosion dust and the options for mouth to mouth are necrophilia (Reynard), beastiality (Scraps) or lesbianism (Jackie) ...)
Player: “We’ve kind of talked ourselves into lesbian porn here.”
Mary: “Yay!”
(To Mary) “On the bright side, this is before asbestos, so inhaling the dust probably won’t kill you.”
GM: “Make a Scrutinize check.”
Reynard: “Three. I tell you, he’s possessed by Gunney.”
“That’s fine, I like it from behind.”
(Mary’s player has a coughing fit out-of-game)
GM: “Very in character!”
Player: “Bounty points!”
Scraps: “I’m behind my faithful owner, because then he’s a meat shield.”
“If I’m not possessed by Gunney, Lucky definitely is.”
Jackie: “BRING IT ON!!”
Player: “Holy crap, you’re like Wonder Woman! And not the crappy TV version either!”
GM: “Where Mary shot him, Scraps rips out his guts.”
Scraps: “Sausages!”
Reynard: “I can’t do Diversion.”
Jackie: “That’s okay, I have 5d12 Dodge.”
“Overpowering of the whites. Just like in the real West.”
GM: “At least the ones that can do better damage have got cards.”
Jackie: “In that case, I’ll go stabby stabby death death at the one next to me.”
“It’s surprising we haven’t developed a fear of trains.”
“The enemies never carry dynamite. Good job.”
(to aliens) “You’re just spare fuel cells to us!”
“Reynard has gone from nice and cheerful to like … Pumpkin Head and … Freddie Krueger!”
“What is this, The Matrix?”
“Why the heck not?”
“Cost us four player characters and we’ve just got the grip of the aliens.”
“Hit location doesn’t really matter, I’m just gonna stab it in the face.”
GM: “Scraps hits him in the groin and bites his penis off.”
Scraps: “I’m not gonna yell ‘sausages!’ this time.”
Player (gleefully): “Wiener!”
GM: “That one’s gonna attack Scraps.”
Player: “To get his penis back?”
“It’s like a Disney/Pixar film.”
“I don’t think anyone gets their penis bitten off there …”
“Alright, Stephen Hawking, calm down!”
Jackie: “I never said I was a good guy … or girl.”
Player: “No, but the GM did!”
“Please don’t make Future Wench a naughty girl. I’m not sure I can deal with it.”
“It’s a little, running joke that only I get.”
“Works well for you, does it?”
“This place is worse than ‘Nam; let’s just go.”
Reynard: “If you don’t talk, I’ll shoot. Three, two, one … Torch his mate.”
“Oh dear God, we’ve unleashed a talking dog on the world.”
(After opening various doors and having to fight what was in there, we finally reach the far end)
GM: “You knew the portal was at the end of the corridor.”
Jackie: “You could’ve told me that!”
GM: “Yeah, but it’s more fun this way.”
GM: “There are no guards any more, funnily enough.”
Scraps: “You’re the alpha, you smell funny.”
Jackie: “I’m not the alpha!”
Scraps: “You’re the alpha, Mary’s the caregiver, I’m the dog. Go get them!”
Reynard: “Show me your hands!”
Scraps: “I would do as he says; he has given me many barbecued snacks today.”
“Dynamite!! No, wait. Soul Burst.”
GM (to Reynard): “That’s the first time I’ve seen you fail a hex.”
“That’s 6d6 …”
“Every week we get sponsorship now! – No, don’t make it 1d6, C won’t pay me then.”
“I think I’ll have a few limbs missing after this dice roll. One of them might be my head.”
“Are we being convoluted again?”
“A little bit.”
“Oh dear God, we’re all dead!”
Reynard: “Scraps, go and get healed.”
Scraps: “GODZILLA!!!”
“Can we say ‘back to the future’ a few more times in case someone wants to give us a free t-shirt?”
“I saw Stone’s stats on TV Tropes. It made me go, ‘fuck it, let someone else fight him’.”
“Do we really have much choice?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer.”
Jackie: “Just pretend to be dead.”
Reynard: “I AM dead!”
Jackie: “Well, you know what I mean.”
Reynard: “I’ve still got one leg! You can’t drag me around against my will!”
“These three …”
“Won’t get any Christmas presents this year.”
“Damn straight!”
Reynard: “I’ll put my leg in my backpack or something.”
No obituaries this week (woo hoo!) but that might have been partly down to the GM taking pity on us ... or more likely, didn't want to end the adventure with one playing missing. We're probably looking at
