The VolunteersFrostbite, Hess, Sir Rimelight and Ulien follow the armed crew down the train and out of a small side hatch. The Chief assures his volunteers there's no danger of being shot just yet, and they have no choice but to believe him. The passengers drop down into a thick and hard snowbank, only partially melted by the train's passage. The air has a vicious bite to it. It reaches through their clothes and smallclothes and sinks its fangs down into flesh. Breaths mist in the air; the cold burns the lungs with every inhale.
The wind is a living thing. It lashes at their faces and drives flurries of snow into their eyes. It beats against the steel and wood of the train, rattles the windows, cuts wildly into the engine's smoke and steam in the air. For the Rimers in the group, it's nothing new. For them, the bite is a kiss, cruel but familiar. They press on regardless.
Some in the interior think Rimers don't feel cold. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is not easier for them to withstand the ice and the wind. It still pains them as it does the warm-blooded. They simply know better than to imagine there is any escape from it other than a grim and resolute determination - putting one foot before the other and carrying on.
Gunshots ring out in the air, distant and faint. Soon they are joined by the clatter-boom of the train's rotary gun - a curious piece of engineering, a gun that fires rounds as fast as the operator can crank it - but only for a few brief volleys. The rotary gun goes silent, leaving only the occasional cold-muted bark of a rifle being fired. It sounds like they're coming from the other side of the train. The crew confer, then lead the party some ways up towards the front of the train, to where a gap in coal wagons shows a glimpse of the other side. The rotary gun is near, in its own wagon, a steel-enclosed box with an emplacement up top. As they watch, a bullet appears to ping off it. The man at the gun does not return fire.
There's an odd sort of calm. Anxiety and adrenaline are familiar torments, needing but not getting release. The crew talk among themselves again, leaving the passengers huddled together for warmth, waiting. It doesn't take long for the first man to introduce themselves.
Aside from the five who already know each other, there are six others. A lean man of very dark skin and black hair in a fine long coat presents himself as Doctor Montmare, a natural philosopher, on a quest to catalogue and name all the hardy species of animal that inhabit the Rime. He carries a fine revolver but very poorly, and appears supremely uncomfortable with the task ahead of him. He keeps close to his companion, a big, blond man by the name of Sounder.
He, in turn, carries a large-caliber rifle and looks to be a much more practiced hand with it.
'This is queer country, very queer,' the good doctor says, eyeing the desolation all around them. He has a curious, smooth accent and sing-song way of speaking.
'I do not like it at all.''My dear Monty didn't believe he would actually be called upon to do battle for this journey. He was categorically assured there was no threat of bandits along the way. I'd dearly like to meet the little twerp who so assured him,' Sounder says, in a low voice that doesn't reach his companion's ears.
'Wonder why they've choked that rotary. Could be pulping the lot of 'em if we had it roaring.'Two of the others share a strong resemblance, though one is large and muscular and the other merely large. They introduce themselves as the Hackett brothers, gunsmiths both, on their way to Ossuary to open a new store right on the frontier. They are heavily drunk, as is their associate, a little pale Rimer by the name of Penance Towley. The third man has the twitchy and frail look of a clerk or bookkeeper or some other unhealthy profession. The trio is full of cheer despite the challenge awaiting them. How much of that is the drink and how much their natural demeanor remains to be seen.
Two women round up the party. The first is a short and wiry old woman going by the name of Mara. Her face is lined by the toils and hurts of decades and her braided hair is a stark white. She clasps a long rifle like her life depended on it. Despite her age, she moves surely, doesn't complain, and eyes the horizon with a readiness that speaks of a long life of action and danger. A faded silver ring hands on a chain from her neck. The other woman is a nervous wreck of a girl, broad-shouldered and heavy-set. Fear seems to tie her tongue. She just barely manages to introduce herself as Joanna Tuck, a peddler of trinkets and good-luck junk traveling to Stalwart to meet relatives.
Chief Gorwan returns, rubbing his face.
'Well, here's how it is. We've got bandits up on that hill over there-' and his finger points through the gap in the wagons at a high slope in the distance
'-and they're shooting anyone who goes near the barricade. If we set up here and shoot back, well, we'll all freeze to death here together. This train is on a schedule. We're going to attack.'He peers at them, appearing to gauge every man and woman in turn.
'I'm going to want volunteers for a flanking party. We'll circle 'round, sneak up close, and gun them all down before they can get turned around. Any takers? Hell, any questions?'Cormac Hess feels a pang of unease. No bandit worth their salt would just sit and keep peppering a train they were trying to rob from the distance. A siege favors the train, with its ample stores of wooden walls and furniture for burning. Either they're idiots, or have some other plan. What this feels like is a classic stratagem - having one group tie up the train's defenders from the distance, while another boards the train in secret and shoots their way up to the engine. There, they disconnect the passenger wagons, fire the engine, and simply drive away with the entire cargo of coal with them to be emptied out later. The train's defenders will be dead or left staring after their engine, trapped until the next train comes along.
***
Health: Fine.
Inventory:
+Rimer Sixshooter [+0] [A revolver of low-quality steel, fashioned in some backwater Rimer gun shop. It does its job well enough.]
+Fur Clothes [A Rimer with any wits knows the best protection against the cold are clothes lined with the fur of a white bear.]
+Bag [A trusty leather bag, a veteran of many journeys.]
--Provisions (4 Days) [Jerky, dried kelp and icy water form much of a Rimer's diet.]
--Fuel (1 Day) [Even a little firewood or coal on hand can be the difference between life and death out here.]
--Terminus Express Ticket [A piece of paper entitling you to a journey aboard the Terminus Express. The stops are listed as: Konigshain (Thaw) - Lorel (Thaw) - Marrow - Warren - Cauldron - Bleak House - Gossamer - Stalwart - Crescent - Shoal - Ossuary.]
Scrip: 150¤
Stats:
Might: 1
Speed: 5
Learning: 1
Wits: 3
Presence: 1
Mind: 5
Traits:
*Fastest in the East: Always win Initiative in combat.
*Quick Attack: Make two attacks in a turn at half your attack bonus.
*Never Give Up: Receive a bonus to Mind checks that increases the worse your odds of survival or victory are. [Never stop, never hesitate; not when there lives on the line.]
Health: Fine.
Inventory:
+Rimer Sixshooter [+0] [A revolver of low-quality steel, fashioned in some backwater Rimer gun shop. It does its job well enough.]
+Traveling Clothes [A woolen dress, good leather boots and warm gloves make practical and dependable traveling clothes in the Rime.]
-Moonshine [Something to keep you warm on the worst of Rimer nights.]
+Luggage [A worn suitcase with everything a Rimer girl needs on her travels.]
--Provisions (4 Days) [Jerky, dried kelp and icy water form much of a Rimer's diet.]
--Fuel (1 Day) [Even a little firewood or coal on hand can be the difference between life and death out here.]
--Terminus Express Ticket [A piece of paper entitling you to a journey aboard the Terminus Express. The stops are listed as: Konigshain (Thaw) - Lorel (Thaw) - Marrow - Warren - Cauldron - Bleak House - Gossamer - Stalwart - Crescent - Shoal - Ossuary.]
Scrip: 150¤
Stats:
Might: -2
Speed: 4
Learning: 5
Wits: 3
Presence: 2
Mind: 4
Traits:
*Expert (Delving): Double your Learning bonus for checks related to diving suits and delving.
*Lethal Shot: Ranged damage inflicted is always increased to next level; Grazes to Wounds, Wounds to Severe Wounds, Severe Wounds to Death, and so.
*Head for Business: Double your Wits bonus for bartering and negotiating for trade. [It takes a special keen kind of mind to take over one's father's shop and keep it afloat in hard times.]
Health: Fine.
Inventory:
+Family Rifle [+0] [A well-loved, well-crafted if now-obsolete rifle passed down from father to son until ripped from their cold, dead hands by its present owner.]
+Frontier Suit [A rough-spun suit, fur pelt and sleek croc leather shoes make up a killer ensemble.]
+Suitcase [A fine suitcase with a complicated lock meant to deter the greedy hands of lessers.]
--Provisions (4 Days) [Jerky, dried kelp and icy water form much of a Rimer's diet.]
--Fuel (1 Day) [Even a little firewood or coal on hand can be the difference between life and death out here.]
--Terminus Express Ticket [A piece of paper entitling you to a journey aboard the Terminus Express. The stops are listed as: Konigshain (Thaw) - Lorel (Thaw) - Marrow - Warren - Cauldron - Bleak House - Gossamer - Stalwart - Crescent - Shoal - Ossuary.]
Scrip: 150¤
Stats:
Might: 2
Speed: 4
Learning: 2
Wits: 0
Presence: 6
Mind: 2
Traits:
*Menacing: Intimidation results in severe impairment (-5) instead of impairment, or has a stronger effect otherwise.
*Quick Attack: Make two attacks in a turn at half your attack bonus.
*Icy Rage: When slighted, annoyed, mildly irritated, or otherwise irked, enter a deathly cold fury and go to town on an opponent of your choosing. Until the target is dead or combat ends, ignore impairment from Wounds, receive a +2 attack bonus against the target, and automatically pass Mind checks that would interfere with the necessary murder. If the target escapes or defeats you, suffer a -5 impairment to all checks for the next day. [A terrible rage lurks beneath his placid facade, surfacing any time anyone tries to take what's his.]
Health: Fine.
Inventory:
+Snow Gun [+0] [A stocky white-painted rifle favored by bandits wanting to blend into their surroundings. It's not the most accurate weapon, but it is dependable even in bad weather and deadly in the hands of a skilled shooter.]
+Fur Clothes [A Rimer with any wits knows the best protection against the cold are clothes lined with the fur of a white bear.]
+Bag [A military-issue sling bag, perhaps looted off the body of some unfortunate Inner soldier boy.]
--Provisions (4 Days) [Jerky, dried kelp and icy water form much of a Rimer's diet.]
--Fuel (1 Day) [Even a little firewood or coal on hand can be the difference between life and death out here.]
--Terminus Express Ticket [A piece of paper entitling you to a journey aboard the Terminus Express. The stops are listed as: Konigshain (Thaw) - Lorel (Thaw) - Marrow - Warren - Cauldron - Bleak House - Gossamer - Stalwart - Crescent - Shoal - Ossuary.]
Scrip: 150¤
Stats:
Might: 1
Speed: 4
Learning: 1
Wits: 6
Presence: 0
Mind: 4
Traits:
*Keen Senses: Never suffer increased difficulty from environmental conditions, such as blizzards, for perception checks.
*Frugal: Heat requirements halved in the wild.
*Bandit Cunning: You can make a surprise attack even when a target is fully aware of you, gaining a free attack round, though the target retains their normal Defense and won't fall for the same trick twice. [A bandit never reveals their true colors until the last, deadly moment.]
The others leave. Fiona hesitates at the door, though - not just from her lack of use in a firefight, but from the apparent cowardice or indifference of Mr Stern. She beseeches him to join them with fair eloquence. The man listens in silence, a small smile playing on his features.
[Presence DC 20: 19+3=22]
'You speak well, miss, very well indeed,' he says.
'Inner flattery or not, you've got a talent for it. Considered me flattered, miss. I'll join you - not out of any sense of obligation, but because how could I not, after such tremendous passion? So your words have indeed moved me - a rare feat. Let's keep this between us, yes?'He smiles with a roguish glint in his eye. Stern stands up, taps his revolver, and follows Fiona out. The staff woman who only moments ago assured the man he could indeed remain seated looks frustrated by the sudden new course of action. She doesn't offer any comment, merely glares at their backs.
Stern and Fiona follow directions to the outside of the train. The cold seizes the breath from her lungs. Stern doesn't appear too rattled, chuckling to himself as he goes along. They are soon joined by an unhappy and shambling mass of men and women from the standing compartments. They appear to have been equally press-ganged for the job of clearing the tracks.
Gunshots ring out in the distance. The mass of people comes to a halt, frightened and angry voices coming to the fore. A short Rimer man with a terrible cough steps forward and pokes a finger in the direction of the crewman shepherding them along.
'We're not going out there! They're gonna kill us all! This is suicide, damn you!''Naw, you'll have cover from our boys,' the crewman says, in a voice that doesn't convey much interest in the survival of his charges.
The angry passenger's remarks find fertile ground with his peers. The crowd doesn't move an inch. Shovels and picks obtained from somewhere are dropped to the ground in protest.
Stern looks to Fiona. He doesn't say anything, seeming content to let her take point on this.
***
Health: Fine.
Inventory:
+Cast-Iron Pan [+0] [A very fine cast-iron frying pan, something of a family heirloom. It's found some use as a surprisingly potent melee weapon.]
+Mismatch Clothes [A poorly-planned mismatch of fine upper-class Inner clothes and low-quality furs and pelts from the Rime.]
+Parasol [Few in the Rime know what this is, and those who do don't believe their eyes.]
+Luggage [A heavy traveling case full of pots, pans, utensils, spices and foodstuffs - a veritable walking kitchen in disguise.]
--Quality Provisions (4 Days) [Fruit, rich dark bread, berries, cinnamon, pepper, ginger and cloves, tea leaves, coffee, even a little chocolate...]
--Terminus Express Ticket [A piece of paper entitling you to a journey aboard the Terminus Express. The stops are listed as: Konigshain (Thaw) - Lorel (Thaw) - Marrow - Warren - Cauldron - Bleak House - Gossamer - Stalwart - Crescent - Shoal - Ossuary.]
Scrip: 150¤
Stats:
Might: 1
Speed: 3
Learning: 3
Wits: 3
Presence: 3
Mind: 3
Traits:
*Frontier Cook: With ample food, create meals for up to 5 people that grant a +2 inspiration bonus for the day.
*Team Heart: Assisting others grants them your full ability bonus instead of half, and you can assist several people at once (when physically possible).
*Hope Bringer: Negate any Trauma results from Severe Wounds for friendlies. [There's always a little light when she's there, even at the worst of times.]
Author
Topic: The Rime: a Frostpunk Western RPG (IC) (Read 6874 times)