OtherRPG-EdDL-Log1

GM: Ok, just for the sake of story, you've been traveling through the desert for a week since the incident at the church. Early one saturday morning, 7AM according to your watch, you extinguish your campfire and see a town in the distance. You most likely didnt see it the night before because it was dark when you set up camp. GM: Done and done. GM: You start toward town, about halfway there you find a crappy road that's been blown over with sand. It was once used to go to town, making the trip faster and easier. You finally get there after about a half hour of riding. There are about 15 buildings you can see, all along 2 roads, making an intersection in the middle where the "Town Square" is. In town square there is a large stage for public meetings, and other kinds of stuff. There is a large cross that bares the towns name, 'Burmington'. GM: The streets are barren in this city, strange considering it seems well kept. The buildings are all finely built out of wood, and there is a large fountain at the town's entrance. You dont hear any noise, save for shudders banging against building walls. GM: A few signs bare the names of 'The Keg & Barrel' tavern, the 'Tiresome Traveler' inn, and the 'Bullseye Gunnery'. There is also a building which is quite obviously a church. GM: You also see a provisioner called "Samson's Goods". GM: You can see no movement from within the buildings. Preacher: ((No life at all? Not even a tumbleweed?)) GM: Not in the streets, no.
 * Preacher stretches and shakes out his duster. He then packs up camp, putting it all into his bedroll.
 * Preacher kicks dirt over his campfire and mounts his Horse With No Name.
 * Preacher begins to ride toward the town.
 * Preacher slides his hat onto his head if the morning sun gets too hot.
 * Preacher keeps silent, scanning the horizon with his eyes.
 * Preacher has put the events at the church behind him, the dirt of several dug graves still clinging to his shovel.
 * Preacher pulls on his horse's reigns, halting the creature.
 * Preacher scans the buildings, listening intently.
 * Preacher slaps the reigns, spurring his horse on slowly.
 * Preacher continues to scan the buildings, heading toward the tavern.

Preacher rolled -+ 4 14 +- Result -> 16

GM: Well, you think you saw someone looking at you from the second floor of the tavern. GM: From the tavern you also hear someone playing some songs on an old out-of-tune piano, but obviously not playing for show. GM: There are 4 bars for people to tie their horses to. GM: There is one water trough, but it is (not suprisingly) empty. GM: The doors to the tavern are hanging ones, like always. GM: You enter the front room of the tavern. There are 8 or 9 circular tables placed around the room, each with 6 stools. The dust around this tavern is pretty thick, and there are three people here. One is a middleaged man with a large beer gut that is barely covered by his skintight beer-stained shirt. He is bald, and is missing a few teeth in his yellow, tobacco stained grin. The other is a man with a handlebar moustache, rubbing the counter with a rag. And the third is a younger man, sitting at the piano. GM: They all look at you as you enter the tavern. GM: The man at the bar looks at you as you come in, hitting a stool with a rag, knocking the dust off of it. He nods his head, and goes back to the counter. The young man at the piano doesn't look up, but instead sits hitting keys and playing small excerpts of songs, only a few of which you recognize. The fat man smiles then laughs a wheezing, phlegmy, coughy laugh. GM: Bartender: "You look thirsty. What'll it be?" Preacher: "What've you got?" GM: He looks around. GM: "Brandy...whiskey..." he pulls a few bottles out looking at the faded labels with some strain. "A little wine...lots of ale..." Preacher: "Whiskey." GM: He nods and grabs a glass. Pulling a clean rag from his apron band, and running it under a faucet, he gives the glass a good cleaning, then fills it with a strong whiskey. GM: He looks up at you, as if awaiting your story. Preacher: "Town seems pretty empty for this time of morning." GM: "Yeah...we've had our share of troubles..." Preacher: ((Is there a mirror above the bar?)) GM: Yep. Preacher: "What sort of troubles?" GM: "Well...few years ago this town was plagued by a band of thieves, murderers, and rapists." His eyes roll up as if recalling the story. "Almost daily, they'd ride into town, and 'collect' thier protection dues. If someone couldn't pay, the gang'd help 'emselves to a few of their posessions...and sometimes a few of the fairer women of the town." GM: "The women would always be returned near death, each with thier own horror stories about the band and what they did. We eventually got tired of it, and most of the male population took arms and went after the brigands..." GM: "We won, but many men were lost. Many were men of trade. This caused us to have many troubles trading with other towns, and many people who lived here moved elsewhere more promising. And then there was the fire...Jesus, that was a fright." GM: "A traveler whom no one knew came strolling into town one day, got lodgings for the night. Then rode off after setting a blaze in this very tavern. The people left alive after this great disaster were forced to rebuild thier homes, and here we are now, just a small poor outpost through which goods are routed." GM: The fat man with the wheezing laugh starts laughing again. GM: He aparently finds the story humerous. The bartender starts cleaning another glass with his rag. GM: "Oh, 20...maybe 30 in the town now." Preacher: "What's with him?" Preacher asks as he motions to the fat man with a tilt of his head. GM: "Oh...dont mind him...he's got a few problems, he'll be fine." GM: The man stands up and approaches the bar, yelling, "Fawk off charlie! You wasnt even 'ere!" GM: "I was!" He hits his chest with his thumb proudly. GM: Charlie rolls his eye and polishes the glass. Preacher: "Here for what?" GM: "The fauken fire!" GM: "The war too!" GM: He has a very distinct limp. Preacher: "Then yer a lucky man." GM: He holds open his beer stained shirt and shows a scar. "I got 'dis in it!" GM: He waves his hand at you in a dismissing manner, and slaps the bar with his palm, "Gimme a beer!" GM: Bartender: "Alright, alright..." He fills a glass with a yellow-brown ale, and the ogre-like man chugs it down, it spills out of both sides of his mouth. GM: The young guy stops tiddling on the piano and looks up at you guys. GM: The fat man slaps his glass down on the bartop and sticks his finger into your chest. "Ye'd better watch yeerself, cause if your motives are to fawk us over, I'll rip you in two!" GM: The smelly beer man waddles over to his chair, and sits down again. Then falls asleep with a loud snoring. The bartender puts the glass down. GM: "No, not really... People just stop by with crates, drop 'em down, and pays us to hold them until the other people come to pick 'em up. Just happens when it does. It's keeping this town alive..." GM: Preacher, the horse seems perturbed, there is a little 6-year-old poking it with a stick. Preacher: "There a well nearby? My horse could use a drink." GM: "Yeah, out back there's a pump..." He grabs a bucket from under the bar. "Use this; fill up the trough out there and I'll give you a buck..." Preacher: ((How much does a glass of whiskey go for?)) GM: 20 cents. GM: The kid laughs, and walks away, then turns and throws a rock at the horse, then runs inside. GM: The rock hits the horse in the head, he just shrugs it off with a little groan, and looks at you. GM: He lets out a whinny. GM: You go around back; there is a fence around this portion, and there are small patches of grass in the sand. There is also a small mesh cage with 6 pigs in it, and a water pump. There is a door to the storage room of the bar in the back here, and 2 more water troughs. You see a stable on the other side of the road with no horses in it. There is a girl with blonde hair in her early 20's sitting there. GM: She smiles at you, "Howdy, stranger." GM: The water is crystal clear as it comes out. Looking into the bucket it takes on the greenish quality of the rusty pail. GM: "Where you traveling to?" GM: "Thats it?" Preacher: "For the moment." GM: She smiles. GM: "You ain't from around here. I can tell, I never seen you outside in this here town, and you're too tan to live indoors all your life." Preacher: "Just rode in this morning." GM: "Aye, so where's your final destination? It can't be here..." Preacher: "Right now...I've got no final destination." Preacher: "Just a lot behind me." GM: She cocks her head, looking curious at you. GM: She smiles, "Ill be here." GM: The horse looks gratefully at you, and bows its head, licking the water off the bottom of the trough. GM: Its not even 1/20th full yet. You see why the bartender pays other people to do this for him. GM: The girl watches you approach, she's gotton out of her sitting postion and is leaning against the water pump now. "My name's Joan." Preacher: "They call me Preacher." GM: "A religious man then?" she says half-happily. GM: "Oh? Why is that?" GM: She still looks curiously at you, but remains silent for a bit. Preacher: "It's a long story, anyway." GM: "Aye...well, I'd like to hear it sometime, but I imagine you won't be around long..." Preacher: "That depends on what I find here. I'm in no hurry." GM: She smiles. GM: "Thats good." GM: You go to fill up the trough again, the horse looks at you happily as you approach. GM: You return back to where the girl is again. GM: "So are you going to stay at the inn then?" GM: "How long have you been traveling?" GM: "Oh? From where?" GM: "Mmmm, and just what are you searching for?" GM: "Then what are you running from?" Preacher: "Nothing anymore." GM: "Oh." GM: The horse again looks happily at you, and you again return to the girl. The trough looks like it is finally starting to fill up. Preacher: "Are you in charge of the stables, Joan?" GM: "I suppose...not many people actually come through this town anymore, only goods...Some days I dont bother coming out an all..." Preacher: "Oh? Where do you live?" GM: She points at a small one-story house across the street from the inn. "Down yonder." Preacher: "Do you suppose you could set my horse up for the night?" GM: "Sure can. What's his name?" Preacher: "Couldn't figure on a decent one, anyway." GM: She shrugs. GM: "How long do you plan to be here?" Preacher: "Not sure, definately for the night." Preacher: "Maybe two." GM: She smiles, "Hopefully..." GM: "Why dont you bring him around?" Preacher: ((Is the trough full?)) GM: Almost, one more trip should do it. GM: The horse winnies happily. GM: You bring him around, Joan is washing her hands under the pump. Preacher: "So, you live alone?" GM: "Yep." she smiles provocatively. GM: She takes the reigns and leans against the fence. GM: "You almost done?" Preacher: "One more trip." GM: She smiles. GM: "Want me to go talk to Herb about getting you a room?" Preacher: "You know anywhere around here that serves breakfast?" GM: "Yeah, both the inn and the tavern have food. Tavern might be a little cheaper but not very good. Or I could make you something..." GM: "Not at all." She wipes her hands on her jeans, and brings the horse into the stable. "Meet me at my house in 10 minutes." She smiles back at you and rubs the hair out of her eyes. Preacher: "Wouldn't miss it for the world." GM: You pour the last of the bucket in, the water almost sloshes out of the edges of the trough. GM: No one knew, except an old man leaning heavily on a can hobbling down the streets. The young man at the piano is gone, as is the fat guy. However there is an injun' clad in a leather loincloth sitting at the bar. GM: Bartender: "You done?" GM: Bartender: "Right." GM: He hands you a dollar. GM: The indian sits with his arms crossed, one on top of the other. GM: "How's travel, paleface?" GM: He nods. "My father, Chief Running Stag slay many Pawnee. He say life getting good and Gods smile high on mighty Redfoot tribe." Preacher: ((Pawnee = Another indian tribe?)) GM: Yeah. GM: It's almost nine. GM: "Me, Leaping Wolf, son of Chief Running Stag of mighty Redfoot tribe welcome you and call you friend." GM: He nods to you. Preacher: "Pleasure in meeting you." GM: "Well met, paleface." GM: Ok, it's getting close to what you think is ten minutes. GM: Charlie nods, the indian says, "Until a later time, paleface." GM: You walk down the street to the inn, look both ways and cross the street. You think you can make it, being there is no traffic, nor any roadway vehicle in sight. Preacher: ((Hehe.)) GM: The small house now has smoke billowing out of the chimney. GM: Done. She answers the door, now wearing an apron. Her hands are lightly dusted in baking powder, and invites you in. "May I take your coat and pistols?" GM: She takes your coat and hangs it on the hook, then holds her hands out. GM: The house is nicely furnished. The heater-oven is burning brightly, a teapot on the top of it cooking. She also has a skillet with eggs, toast, and a couple sausage links in it. GM: She lays them on a table next to the door. GM: "Come, sit." GM: She walks over to a bunch of pillows thrown onto the floor near the stove. Preacher: ((How far are my gunbelts from me? And how near to the door are they?)) GM: They are about 5 feet from the door, and about 20 feet from the place she wants you to sit down. GM: She walks over to the stove and takes the skillet off of the stove, and sets it down on a low set table. GM: She grabs some salt and looks over at you for affirmation, holding it above the pan. GM: She sprinkles some salt lightly over the bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast, and then sits down. Preacher: ((Man, fuck that, heh...I'm a bleedin' gunfighter.)) GM: "Oh, I dont think I'm all that dangerous." She giggles. GM: She hands you a fork, and watches you, her bright eyes gleaming. Preacher: "It's not you I'm worried about, ma'am." Preacher: "Thank you." Preacher: "Grace?" GM: "Alright." GM: She bows her head. Preacher: "Lord, we thank you for this fine meal that Joan so graciously prepared, and hope it tastes as good as it smells. Please bless this this house and its lovely occupants. Amen." GM: After you are done saying grace she says, "Oh, forgive me!" and walks into the kitchen. She grabs a glass of orange juice and water from the counter and brings it to you. Preacher: ((Is she eating as well?)) GM: No. GM: "So...where are you from?" Preacher: "Texas originally." GM: She smiles. GM: "Do you like it? Im not much of a cook..." Preacher: ((Even if it tastes like warm rubber.)) GM: It does taste very good. Preacher: "You should have more faith in your cooking." GM: She blushes. GM: "You're very kind for saying so..." Preacher: "It's true." GM: "So will you tell me more about yourself?" GM: That curious look in her eyes never left. Preacher: ((Is it THAT look?)) GM: ((I'll say...yes, but it's more of a timid THAT look. :) )) Preacher: "So, Joan, how long have you been here? In Burmington, that is." GM: "Since I was 6..." GM: "But I want to know about you..." GM: She licks her upper lip, and looks around the room nervously, and blushing. Preacher: "Like?" GM: "Well, as I said not many travelers come through here. I want to know why you travel and such. Why you left in the first place, your childhood, everything..." Preacher: "That's askin' a lot." GM: "I know..." GM: "It's just that there's no one here my age...they're either older than me, or younger than me..." GM: "Most people with children left during the battle with the outlaws..." Preacher: "The problem is, I'm not sure there's much I'm willing to tell." GM: "Then forget about it..." GM: "You look as though you've seen a lot of action, though...guns and all." Preacher: "Why don't you have something to eat with me?" GM: She waves her hand in a 'no' type gesture. GM: "Im not that hungry..." Preacher: "Are you sure? This is mighty fine meal you've cooked up." GM: She smiles and blushes again. GM: "I talked to Herb about getting you a room. He says all his rooms are free..." Preacher: "That's kind of you." GM: "It was no trouble...really." GM: "Well...it was kind of my mom who started the whole battle..." GM: "You see, my father had a lot of influence on the town people, and when they kidnapped my mother, he had all the townspeople grabbing weapons and going after them..." Preacher: "Battle?" GM: "Yes. Have you not heard of the battle with the outlaws in this towns history?" Preacher: "Indeed I have." GM: "Barney and Charlie, the guy who owns the bar, are always blabbing those around. Barney thinks he's all big cause he fought in it..." GM: "Anyway...when the outlaws felt intimidated, they killed my mother as a show for them to back off, this crushed my dad and made him send all the townspeople out. We beat them, but most of the townspeople who fought didn't survive, my father included..." Preacher: "I'm sorry to hear that...How old were you?" GM: "Yeah, I was 11 or so..." Preacher: "How long ago was that?" GM: "Oh, ten or so...It still feels like yesterday though..." Preacher: "What kind of goods are shipped through here? That seems to be what's keeping this town alive." GM: "Oh, all sorts of things. We usually don't know, but most of the time its shipments of ghost rock, or weaponry, or other strange things that the men who drop it off and pick it up tell us." Preacher: "Anyone know where it's going?" GM: She shakes her head. GM: "Various places they tell us. I dont think it's all one location..." Preacher: "What about the man who lit the tavern up?" Preacher: "How long ago was that?" GM: "Hmmm...about three years ago, I think..." GM: You finish the nice breakfast, and she takes the pan from you. GM: "Are you still hungry? I have more..." Preacher: ((Am I?))
 * Preacher continues to watch the window, but not concentrating too hard on it.
 * Preacher trots to the front of the tavern atop his horse, sliding off his hat and securing it to the saddle.
 * Preacher dismounts, tying his horse in front of the water trough...if there is a water trough.
 * Preacher ties his horse off in front of a window, where he can keep an eye on it.
 * Preacher steps through the swinging doors and into the tavern, looking around and giving his eyes a moment to adjust.
 * Preacher is a handsome, 6'1" tall human male with a lean, muscular build of about 175 pounds. He wears a dark brown, rawhide leather duster over long sleeved black clericals complete with white collar. Twin leather gunbelts hang from his hips, criss-crossing above his groin, creaking ever-so-often when he moves. He has hard, chiseled features and dark, piercing eyes. His short, ash brown hair is well groomed and his skin has a healthy olive tan.
 * Preacher nods to them.
 * Preacher approaches the bar, keeping his eyes peeled, and takes a seat on the dusted stool.
 * Preacher nurses the whiskey slowly for a while before speaking again.
 * Preacher keeps his eye on everything from it.
 * Preacher listens through his glass of whiskey.
 * Preacher glances at him in the mirror.
 * Preacher returns his gaze to the bartender, "How many of you are left?"
 * Preacher watches him from the mirror.
 * Preacher watches him as well.
 * Preacher eyes the fat man, then turns to the bartender, "You said this town's used for routing goods, heard any news lately?"
 * Preacher glances at his horse from the window.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher pushes out from the bar and stands, "Another glass or two of whiskey when I'm through will do just fine."
 * Preacher takes the bucket and walks outside, raising his voice and telling the kid to leave his horse alone.
 * Preacher watches him go, grip on the bucket tightening.
 * Preacher pats his horse's nose and strokes it a few times to calm him.
 * Preacher heads out back to the pump.
 * Preacher nods to her as he approaches the pump.
 * Preacher looks at here, "Good morning, ma'am."
 * Preacher pumps the handle a few times to expell some nastiness and puts the bucket under when he starts getting clean (as it can be) water.
 * Preacher tilts his head, "Up front to fill the trough."
 * Preacher find himself almost smiling, coming out as a good-hearted grin.
 * Preacher hefts the bucket, "I won't be long."
 * Preacher heads up front and scoops up a mouthful to wash his mouth with before spitting it back into the bucket and pouring the contents into the trough.
 * Preacher doesn't mind so much, at least he's got company.
 * Preacher goes back to the pump with the empty bucket.
 * Preacher nods to her, half-smiling again.
 * Preacher shakes his head, "Not so much anymore."
 * Preacher regards her for a moment, "We all have our reasons."
 * Preacher begins filling the bucket again.
 * Preacher hefts the bucket and looks at her for a moment before going back to the trough for another go.
 * Preacher pats his snout again before heading back.
 * Preacher returns once again.
 * Preacher nods, "I figure a bath and a night's sleep in a real bed would do me some good."
 * Preacher begins filling the bucket again.
 * Preacher looks past the girl to the flats beyond, "Long as I can remember."
 * Preacher refocuses on her, "A week out of Mexico this time around."
 * Preacher shrugs slightly, "Not sure."
 * Preacher makes another trough run.
 * Preacher begins to refill the bucket.
 * Preacher looks over and nods.
 * Preacher chuckles, "He has no name."
 * Preacher nods, hefting the bucket, "Alright."
 * Preacher goes and waters the trough.
 * Preacher unties his horse and brings him around.
 * Preacher waits for her to finish, holding the reigns of the horse.
 * Preacher smiles fully for the first time, "I'd like that...If it isn't too much trouble of course."
 * Preacher fills the bucket.
 * Preacher heads to the trough.
 * Preacher heads back into the tavern, glancing around the streets.
 * Preacher looks for anyone new in the tavern.
 * Preacher slides the bucket onto the bartop, nodding to the indian.
 * Preacher nods, "And I'll take the dollar on second thought."
 * Preacher looks the indian over, taking the dollar and pocketing it, "Looking up."
 * Preacher nods, checking his watch.
 * Preacher nods back, "They call me Preacher."
 * Preacher sits in silence until then.
 * Preacher slides from the bar and stands, "I will see you gentlemen later."
 * Preacher glances at his reflection for a moment then heads outside and across the road.
 * Preacher walks to the door and slaps some dust off his boots before knocking.
 * Preacher slides his duster off and moves his hands to his gunbelts, hesitating.
 * Preacher slowly undoes his gunbelts, handing them to her.
 * Preacher nods, smiling.
 * Preacher nods to her.
 * Preacher scoops up his gunbelts as he walks toward Joan, draping them over the back of his chair.
 * Preacher has a seat.
 * Preacher takes the fork.
 * Preacher helps himself to a cut of egg and a bite of sausage.
 * Preacher nods, "It's the best I've had in a long time."
 * Preacher eats.
 * Preacher continues to enjoy the meal.
 * Preacher draws air in through his teeth after swallowing a mouthful of breakfast.
 * Preacher gives her a warm smile, "So, Joan, what happened to your parents?"
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher enjoys whatever's left of the breakfast.

Preacher rolled -+ 1 1 2 +- Result -> 2

GM: You're stomach still feels empty, but you COULD get through to lunch, if you needed to. Preacher: "Are you sure it wouldn't be any trouble?" GM: "Of course not." Preacher: "Then I'd like that a lot, Joan." GM: She smiles. GM: she cracks 2 more eggs in the pan, and throws in 4 more sausage links, along with 2 peices of toast, and puts it on the stove. Preacher: ((Hmmmmmmm....big appetite.)) GM: (( :P You botched the strength roll.)) GM: "Do you want anything else?" Preacher: "No thank you, what you have will fill me just fine." GM: "Oh, anything other than food?" GM: She looks at you with that provocative look, holding the tea kettle. Preacher: "Does the Inn offer baths and a shave?" GM: "Well, they'd give you a bath, I think you'd need to go to Joe's barber for a shave...One thing though, Joe's not around anymore..." Preacher: "What happened?" GM: "He just bought the farm. His body just gave up the ghost...he was getting pretty old..." GM: "Last week, I think..." Preacher: "I'm sorry to hear that. Did you know him well?" GM: "Not really, we women dont need to shave all that often..." GM: She stifles a laugh. GM: "Well, at least not the kind of shaving he does." GM: "...Or did." Preacher: "I see your point." GM: She nods. GM: "Hmmm..." GM: "Could you wait here a moment?" GM: "I've got an idea, if you'd care to wait for just a minute..." GM: She smiles. GM: "Good, Ill be right back..." GM: She takes the pan from the stove and puts it on the table in front of you. GM: "Eat up, Ill be back in a jiff!" GM: She leaves. GM: She left the house, you can't hear much. GM: You dont see much in the kitchen, a few cabinets, a few dishes in a basin, and an ice box. GM: The teapot on the stove starts to whistle, she comes running in a second later, holding a mug full of shaving cream, a brush, and a long razor. GM: She smiles brightly seeing you enjoying her meal yet again, since this time she wasnt watching. GM: "Im back." GM: She takes the teapot off the kettle, and pours some of the contents into another mug in the kitchen. GM: "Tea?" Preacher: "No thank you." GM: "Okay." GM: She puts the kettle on the counter in the kitchen, and takes a sip herself. GM: "Tell me when you want your shave." GM: "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Preacher: "No." GM: "What's your name? It's kinda hard to call you 'Preacher'...' Preacher: "I suppose I owe you that much, it's Johnathan." GM: She smiles. GM: "I like that name." Preacher: "Have you ever given a shave before?" GM: "Only to my thighs..." GM: "It cant be too hard..." Preacher: ((Ulp...Should I make a faith check right about now?)) GM: ((Sure.))
 * Preacher hankers for a bath and a shave.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher nods, "What's wrong?"
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher holds the knife and fork, but doesn't cut the food, he sits and listens.
 * Preacher takes a bite of sausage but chews in incriments, pausing to listen.
 * Preacher also takes this time to examine the kitchen area and anything else he can see.
 * Preacher smiles back at her, nonchalantly sliding his gun down a notch in it's hanging position for quicker draw when her back's turned.
 * Preacher wonders why the fuck these reflexes are coming back now.
 * Preacher returns her smile.

Preacher rolled -+ 5 1 +- Result -> 5

GM: You feel really nervous about it, but think you can trust her not to PURPOSELY hurt you. Preacher: "I'll take that shave now, but please be careful." GM: She smiles. GM: "Ok, c'mere you." She sits on the end of the coffee table, she then takes your pistols from the chair on the floor and lays them on the floor with care. Then pats the seat. GM: You sit down and she grabs the mug and starts to apply the cream to your face. GM: "Just be glad this aint a rocking chair, eh?" Preacher: "You're right, there."
 * Preacher bites back on his nerves.
 * Preacher says a prayer....lots of prayers.
 * Preacher goes to her, trying desperately to relax himself.

Joan rolled -+ 10 7 1 +- Result -> 10

GM: She extends the blade and starts to shave. She does a spectacular job, and you didnt feel a thing. She rubs her hand along your now smooth face, and smiles. GM: "Mmmm, a good example of a man you are now." Preacher: "Why thank you ma'am." GM: "I have two questions..." Preacher: "Yes?" GM: "I was wondering if you would have dinner with me tonight, and accompany me to church tomorrow morn..." Preacher: "May I take you up on both?" GM: "Thats what I'm asking...yes." She smiles brightly. Her eyes shining in the light. GM: She takes the towel by her side and wipes up your beard hair. Preacher: "I'd love to." GM: "Oh good." GM: She rubs her hand on your chin again and blushes, then takes the skillet and puts it in the wash basin. GM: She comes back over to you. GM: "If you go to the inn, and tell Herb..the man behind the desk, that I asked about a room for you, he'll treat you good." GM: She smiles, and grabs your coat. GM: "By the way, your horse...uhhmmm, horse, is in 'good hands'," she says, smiling. Preacher: "When should we meet for dinner?" GM: "Ill meet you in the lobby of the hotel at...6:30." GM: "Not as much as I..." Preacher: "Where will we eat?" GM: She holds your coat open and walks behind you. GM: She slips it over your shoulders. GM: "I dont care." GM: She walks over to the door and holds it open. GM: "Thanks for spending time with me..." Preacher: "The pleasure was all mine, thank you for having me." GM: "I just enjoy the company." GM: "6:30 then." Preacher: "6:30." GM: She closes the door. GM: Anywhere you going in particular? GM: You stayed at her house for over an hour, its about 10:30. Preacher: Just getting a feel for the town, then it's to the Inn for a bath and check in. GM: You pass several other stores, there seems to be no one else. At the end there is a farm, full of sickly looking pigs, goats, and sheep. Preacher: ((Graveyard?)) GM: The graveyard is behind the large church. There are two priests standing in it. One jenuflects, makes the sign of the cross, and stands up. GM: The other turns to look at you. GM: "Howdy, stranger." Preacher: "Good morning." GM: "Quite pleasent too, save for the heat." GM: "We desperately need rain." GM: ((Is your duster closed?)) Preacher: ((No, duster's open unless it's raining or too cold.)) GM: The other priest looks at your collar. GM: "We have free lodgings in the church for strangers from afar. Especially one's who devote thier life to Christ." Preacher: "Thank you for your generosity, but I'm staying at the Inn." GM: "Suit yourself." Preacher: ((Are they burying someone?)) GM: ((No, just praying.)) GM: Priest #1: "We must tell you, that Herb is off his rocker...We pray for him." Preacher: "What do you mean?" GM: Priest #2: "We dont mean anything by that, nor do we look down on him. He just hasn't been feeling well lately." Preacher: "What's the matter with him?" GM: Priest #1: "He's had some problems you see, lost family members. And the fact no one stays at his inn anymore is hard on him. He hasnt much income." GM: Priest #2: "What little money he does make he usually gambles away, or spends on the drink." GM: Priest #1: "There's nothing really 'wrong' with him. Just a long line of bad luck I figure." GM: Priest #2: "But the good lord will provide." GM: Priest 1 nods to priest 2. GM: Priest #1: "We were just praying for his father, Joe...poor soul." Preacher: "..." Preacher: "What is wrong with him?" GM: Priest #2: "Well, he's sorta dead..." GM: Priest #1: "He's with God now." Points to the gravestone that priest 2 was moments before praying to. Preacher: ((Same Joe from the barber shop?)) GM: ((Yep.)) Preacher: "Thank you for your time, Fathers." GM: Priest #1 and #2 give thier thanks and farewells, and go back to thier priestly stuff. GM: Priest #1 calls back to you: "See you tomorrow in church, stranger!" GM: You go to the inn. GM: The sign reads "The Tiresome Traveler." GM: This is a nice building. The first room has a red rug on the floor, with 2 chairs by a fireplace, and 4 round tables for gambling. A man is standing behind the counter. GM: The stairway leads to the second floor, and there is a door to a dining room in the back. GM: There are 12 other wooden doors on the second and first floor, that you guess are rooms, figured by the numbers 1-12 displayed in gold letters on each. GM: "Not Mr., Just Herb." GM: He is bald, with quite a 'high hopes' combover. He is also portly, wearing a white shirt with wool pants and suspenders. A small pair of bifocles rest on the tip of his nose. GM: "Ah yes, I remember well. We have a vacancy. 12 in fact, 12 rooms 12 vacancies. Not many people stop by now that the down is in a shithole of a state..." GM: He looks behind on a bulliten board holding 12 keys. Preacher: "How much is a room for an evening and a warm bath?" GM: He hands you a key marked 'number one', then opens a book from under the desk and turns it to you. GM: "Three dollars." Preacher: "And a bath?" GM: "The bath is included in the three dollars..." GM: He holds his eyes on you for a moment. GM: "I dont suppose you have any bags..." GM: "So...Ill show you to your room." Preacher: "No, no bags." GM: He walks over to the first door right next to the desk. He opens a small purse, which moths fly out of, and hands you 2 dollars in quarters. GM: "Your change, sir." Preacher: "Keep it." GM: He smiles, and drops the money back into his purse. GM: "If you insist." GM: "If you would like me to draw the water for your bath now, just say so." GM: He unlocks the door to your room and pushes it open. GM: A damp smell hits your nostrils. Its not bad as in you aren't able to stand it, but it's a kind of a creepy smell. Preacher: ((...Define creepy smell.)) GM: It's kind of a decaying wood mixed with freashly cut grass. GM: "Well...have a good night, sir." GM: He walks over to the counter. GM: ((BTW, this guy's voice sounds like Droopy from the old cartoons.)) GM: You open the one window in the back of the room at the head of the bed. GM: You hear a knock on the door. It's Herb, "When do you want your bath, sir?" GM: The tapping continues. GM: "Sir...are you there?" Preacher: "Yes, I'm fine." GM: "But when do you want your bath?" GM: He is standing there, cleaning his glasses on his shirt, squinting. Preacher: "Could I possibly get a room on the upper-floor?" GM: "Your wish is my command," he grabs a key and slowly ascends the stairway. GM: "Room number 7 then..." GM: He opens the door to room number seven. The smell isn't in this room, but there are no windows, and there is a king sized bed. GM: "Is this satisfactory?" Preacher: "Do you have one with windows?" GM: He sighs. GM: "Bitch bitch bitch..." he wanders into room #11. This room has really high ceilings, is pretty dark, and the smell is gone as well. There are 2 windows here, as you're in the corner of the building. GM: The bed is king-sized here, too. Preacher: "Thank you, and I would like that bath now if it's not too much trouble." GM: "Alright sir, let me get some water going, and a couple ladies from the tavern, and I'll call you when it's ready..." GM: He wanders out of the room, mumbling to himeslf. Preacher: "There's no need for the ladies." GM: You're not sure if he heard you or not. Preacher: "I'd rather bath alone, Herb." GM: There is no response. Preacher: ((Can i see Joan's house from this room?)) GM: Yep. GM: You count that there are probably 25 buildings total. You also see a covered wagon on the side of one road, that wasn't there when you were strolling about. You see men loading things on and off. Preacher: ((Like what?)) GM: They are large crates. Preacher: ((Marked?)) GM: Nope. Preacher: ((Where are they being loaded from?)) GM: They are all lined along the side walk, (which is made of wood, like in all westerns) but you suspect they came from the tavern, as that is the building they are next too. Plus the backdoor is open. GM: You stand across the street, you notice Charlie the bartender, and Barney, the beer-stained fat man are two of the people helping. The other 3 men inside the wagon you've never seen before. Charlie nods to you. GM: Charlie calls out "Stranger, can ya give us a hand?" GM: Charlie and Barnie are struggling with a comparatively large sized crate. Preacher: ((Do i hear anything recognizable from the box? Or smell anything from them?)) GM: No, there is no noise from the boxes. Or a smell eithe
 * Preacher feels his face, "Again, a mighty fine job."
 * Preacher pats the remaining cream off his face and neck.
 * Preacher gives her a warm smile.
 * Preacher watches her.
 * Preacher retrieves his guns from the floor.
 * Preacher smiles back, "I appreciate all you've done for me."
 * Preacher straps on his gunbelts.
 * Preacher smiles, "I look forward to it."
 * Preacher slides his arms into the sleeves, "Thank you."
 * Preacher smiles and kisses her hand, then moves across the street, his smile fading until it's completely gone by the time he reaches the other side.
 * Preacher walks the town.
 * Preacher approaches.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher watches them watching his collar.
 * Preacher nods, "Indeed..."
 * Preacher nods, "I'll keep that in mind."
 * Preacher nods to him.
 * Preacher heads towards the Inn.
 * Preacher enters, allowing time for his eyes to adjust.
 * Preacher approaches the man, "Mr. Herb, I presume?"
 * Preacher nods, "Herb, then. I believe Joan spoke to you about my getting a bath and room for the night?"
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher signs it 'Preacher'.
 * Preacher nods and pays him $5.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher opens a window...many windows.
 * Preacher lets the room air out.
 * Preacher opens the door.
 * Preacher climbs the stairs as well, closing the window in room #1.
 * Preacher nods.
 * Preacher opens both windows and looks the town over from this view.
 * Preacher takes a stroll.
 * Preacher watches what he can from afar.
 * Preacher nods back.
 * Preacher walks over and lends them a hand.