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File: Opening Scene.jpg (286 KB, 1920x1080)
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFtmdorQG-U


The hot Texan air blows west across the Chihuahuan Desert, whipping and sand-blasting two figures who stand exposed to the elements, although one leans comfortably against a withered tree, loosely gripping an axe, while the other, a tall, yet thin Mexican standing out in the sun swaying with the wind, unsteady on his feet from heatstroke.

Taking a long drag from a dwindling cigar, the man in the shade grins and breathes out smoke through his teeth, his long stare stretching to the horizon, seemingly looking through the unstable man.

“Ain’t gonna last much longer out there, compadre. You fixin’ to tell me where you hid it?”

The Mexican turns back to look at the square-faced man chomping on the cigar, and spits towards the sand in front of him, swearing at him a few times in Spanish before saying, “No. I am not, Secessionist pig.”

Groaning, the Texan stands up, ripping the axe from its’ place in the tree. Sauntering towards the Mexican, he says, “Now see, that’s the wrong answer. You should’ve said: ‘Ay, gringo, si, si, I’ve got the place on a map in my pocket.’ Instead, now I’ve got to feed you to my pigs. And I don’t like doin’ that, on account that it always gives ‘em gas.”

And those impressively poetic words were the last the Mexican would ever hear.

--------------------------------------------------

Several days’ ride away, an American Marshal makes his way to a sleepy town on the Rio Grande, upon request of the local sheriff. Bandits have been crossing the border more often than usual, and a drifter has disappeared.

It’s your job to settle this mess and bring peace to this little corner of the Rio Grande. Welcome to Texas, Marshal.
>>
File: Main Street.jpg (268 KB, 1280x720)
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>>2833062
The ride into town is slow and monotonous, ever since you started seeing the signs of civilization, you kept expecting a street somewhere, but all you've seen so far are outbuildings, homes, and tracks leading off the main road to such. However, you are disabused of your notion that this is a small, dispersed town, when you reach the bridge across the Rio Grande, and see the sizable town await you.

Built along the road that winds beside the river on the Texan border, the buildings are interrupted in the middle of the street by a road south, leading into Mexico. Despite its' size, however, there are few people out of doors, although your sharp eyes catch movement from several windows, mostly folk inspecting the newcomer.

Hitching up your horse to a post outside the saloon, you began to rub her down, when an old, raggedy man leans against the post, looking at you from the shadow concealing his eyes.

"Mighty brave of ya to come 'round this way, 'specially with talk of drifters disappearin', lawman."

>"Is that a threat?"
>"Well I've got an obligation."
>(Grunt.)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2833064
>Fix him a gaze but stay silent
>>
>>2833064
>Fix him a gaze but stay silent
I could do stoic cowboy
>>
File: gunslingerphoto.png (104 KB, 264x301)
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>>2833064
>>"Well I've got an obligation."

Time for LAW
>>
>>2833064
>"Well I've got an obligation, to justice."
>>
>>2833064
>Fix him a gaze but stay silent

This should be an option for every dialogue choice. We Tyranny now bois
>>
File: Snake Eyes.jpg (72 KB, 531x663)
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>>2833078
>>2833123
>>2833220
>>2833252


You simply stare at him with flat eyes in response, saying nothing, and continuing to care for your horse. The silence is so tense and thick, you'd be able to slice it with a knife. Pushing down on your stallion's head, you encourage him to drink from the trough, keeping eye contact with the raggedy man all the while.

"I've got an obligation."

The man leans further across the hitching post, close enough that you can feel the heat of his speech, and smell the rotten eggs and whiskey on his breath.

"Oh, we are brave, ain't we, boy, with eyes like those and speech that cold. Kill a man with a look alone, like as not." He points to the pistol at your hip. "Luckily, you don't just got glares to kill a man with."

Standing up quickly, and lurching back, as if a puppet controlled by unseen strings, he looks at you with unseen eyes, and then gives you a gap-toothed grin.

"Be seein' you around, boy."

Looking down to what you're doing, you hear him stumble away on the boardwalk, and when you glance back up, to watch him go, he's gone. Odd, but then again, stranger things have been seen in the West before, out where civilization hasn't touched the sand and grass.

Tugging your hat lower, you walk over to the sheriff's office, but stop when you notice it's almost completely burned out, with shattered glass from broken windows lying uncleaned in the street. It seems that either the sheriff's office burnt to the ground, and the townfolk restrained the fire quick enough, or the man who called you here was victim of arson.

Neither option is very comforting.

(cont.)
>>
File: The Bar.jpg (45 KB, 480x383)
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>>2833275

Deciding that nothing was ever resolved standing around, waiting for something to happen, you head into the saloon, and as you approach, the sounds of hustle and bustle from within quiet. Pushing the batwing doors aside, you step inside and survey the room, looking each patron up and down.

The saloon is fairly crowded for midday, with cowpokes, townfolk, gamblers, and what look to be less savory characters all gather around their respective tables, drinking, eating, and playing dice, with what looks to be a poker table set up in the back. Sauntering over to the bar, you lean backwards against the counter, and look at the barkeep.

>"Whiskey."
>(Point to a whiskey.)
>"Howdy, barkeep. Whiskey, please."
>Write-in.
>>
>>2833282
>Point to a whiskey bottle
>Take the bottle from his hand when he takes it to pour you a glass
>>
>>2833282
>(Point to a whiskey.)

We're a man of few words.

>>2833287
kek, supporting
>>
>>2833287
I'll just vote for whatever this anon votes for.
>>
>>2833287
>>2833282
>(Point to a whiskey.)
Yes
>>
>>2833282
>>2833287
Supporting
>>
Democracy like this really turns me on
>>
>>2833282
>>"Whiskey."
>>
>>2833282
>>(Point to a whiskey.)
>>
File: The Bounty Hunter 2.jpg (127 KB, 1080x1920)
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>>2833295
>>2833311
>>2833312
>>2833331
>>2833392

Continuing to stare down the rest of the saloon, you simply point to the first visible whiskey bottle. When the man starts to pour you a glass, you simply grab the bottle, and toss a quarter at him. Taking a swig, you stare at the saloon, while it subtly (and not so subtly in some cases,) stares back. But one man in particular grabs your attention. A black man, dressed snappily, sits at a table by himself, and while he wears all-blackened spectacles, you can feel his eyes on yours.

Walking to his table, you put your hand on the chair opposite him, and quirk a brow, questioningly. He simply nods in response, although a small grin cuts across his face.

"Quiet man, ain'tcha?" When you nod in response, he grins even wider. "Now, I'm no Pinkerton Detective, but judging by that tin star you wear, I'm assumin' you're the Marshal that our mutual acquaintance, the sheriff of this here town sent for, correct?" Seeing no reason to reply, you just nod, and take a swig.

"Now, our sheriff, he sent for both of us for the same purpose. To deal with el banditos, correct? But there's a problem. Few nights ago, his office burnt down, killing the poor bastard."

Taking a large mouthful of the steak platter he has before him, the man shrugs. "Now, my profession surely is hunting these rat bastards, but with no man of the law to guarantee... compensation, my motivation has dwindled." He lights his cigarette, and looks up at you through the smoke. "Comprende?"

Thoughtfully taking a swig of your whiskey, you point to the rest of the patrons in the saloon with you. "Why're they in here?"

Looking up at you from his steak, the man pauses, before saying, "Fear of the bandits. They usually come in through the town whoopin' and hollerin', causing a ruckus, firin' off their guns. So far they haven't come in the saloon, yet." He shrugs. "It's only just a matter of time, I reckon."

>"We should get started, then."
>(Get up, and head out, waving him after you.)
>"I'll make sure you get your money. Just tell me what's goin' on in detail."
>Write-in.
>>
>>2833476
>Slam a few cash on the table
>"Compensation guaranteed"
>(Get up, and head out, waving him after you.)
>>
>>2833476
>"I'll make sure you get your money. Just tell me what's goin' on in detail."
>>
>>2833476
>>"I'll make sure you get your money. Just tell me what's goin' on in detail."
>>
>>2833476
>>"We should get started, then."
>>
>>2833498
>>2833500

Shaking your head, you stand up and look down at the bounty hunter. "I'll make sure you get your money." Pushing the chair back under the table, you nod your head towards the doors of the saloon. "Just tell me what's goin' on in detail."

Chuckling, the man stands up, and follows you, tossing his napkin down on the table, covering his meal. "Got brass, don't we? And how do I know you won't cheat one of my 'unscrupulous folk' out of my hard-earned cash?"

Glaring at him, you simply point towards your badge and exit the saloon. Leaning against one of the support posts for the upper deck, you watch him come out after you, quietly. When he stands in front of you, leisurely, hands in pockets, you wave for him to go on. He takes a drag from his cigarette before answering, and blows a cloud of smoke into the space between the two of you.

"Well, since you want to know the whole of this business, let me start from the very beginning. Now a couple weeks back, a Mexican drifter went missing..."

Something is wrong. You can feel it in the air.

>Roll 1d20, best of three rolls
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2833614
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbVdqrAlzmg
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2833614
>>
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>2833614
It's a trap!
>>
>>2833625
>>2833616
>>2833618
>15, good eye.
>>
File: The Bandit.jpg (412 KB, 595x860)
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>>2833614

That's when you spot them. Coming from across the border, though still a ways off.

Bandits.

Hooping and hollering, riding in wildly, some bareback, some saddled, some with pistols, and some with rifles, but all wearing the same red bandannas, they fire their guns in the air, alerting the whole town to their presence. Back inside the saloon, the patronage collectively duck for cover, hiding beneath tables and behind walls, staying still, in case they look inward.

Both you and the black bounty hunter share a look, and both dash to your respective horses, the bounty hunter retrieving a repeater rifle, and you retrieving your...

>Winchester Rifle (Repeater Rifle)
>Remington Coach Gun (Double-barrel Shotugun)
>Bowie Knife (Big 'ol knife)
>Union Cavalry Sabre (Sword)
>Write-in...

...as well as unstrapping the six-shooter at your hip.
>>
>>2833679
"As well as unstrapping the *other* six shooter"
>>
>>2833688
>>2833679
Meant to say
>Write-in
>"As well as unstrapping the *other* six shooter"
>>
>>2833679
>Winchester Rifle (Repeater Rifle)
>>
>>2833679
>>Winchester Rifle (Repeater Rifle)
oh yes please
>>
>>2833679
>Winchester Repeater
>Write-in: Winchester Repeater with Pa's Marshal Star and Ma's Rosary w/ feathers wrapped around the barrel
>>
>>2833679
>Winchester Rifle (Repeater Rifle)

>>2833688
I think it'll be good to have several pistols but we should have a rifle right now.
>>
>>2833679
>Bowie Knife (Big 'ol knife)
>>
>>2833699
>>2833703
>>2833711
>>2833712

Ripping the Winchester out of the saddle's rifle holster, and flipping it over, cocking it, you rush to the side of the saloon, leaning out, observing the bandit group's approach. The bounty hunter did likewise, on the opposite side of the street, and grinned at your choice of weaponry, nodding.

It wasn't all too difficult to line up a shot on the first bandit. Even easier on the second and third ones, as they got closer and closer, their raucous charge not having time to slow down before they realized what happened. In total, the bounty hunter and yourself managed to down five bandits before you were forced to retreat behind the building due to return fire.

Bullets ripping through the wood walls of the saloon, but never managing to hit you, you reloaded, and took a peek out at the bandits. It seemed that they had not expected resistance, but even so, they had managed to get behind large rocks and dips in the ground, around the bridge. Fortunately for you, they were still on the other side of the wooden bridge, but this would not last for long, especially with the amount of guns being fired at you, you were liable to catch a case of lead poisonin' if you stayed here.

Waving the bounty hunter back in a general "away" motion, you looked at the options you had.

>Head inside the saloon, and fire from an interior window. (Most damaging.)
>Take cover behind the town well. (Safest play.)
>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2833768
>>Head inside the saloon, and fire from an interior window. (Most damaging.)
If there's a second floor we should definitely take advantage of that
>>
>>2833768
Fortune favours the bold.
>>
>>2833777
>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)

4chan let me post properly plz
>>
>>2833768
>>2833775
>>2833777
>>Head inside the saloon, and fire from an interior window. (Most damaging.)
>>
>>2833768
>>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)
>>
>>2833782
>>2833777
>>2833768
>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)
I'm with lucky trips over there.
By God, let none of them bastards be prepared.
>>
>>2833768
>Head inside the saloon, and fire from an interior window. (Most damaging.)

gotta nail a few more of em, keep em scared
>>
>>2833768
>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)
>>
>>2833788
>>2833787
>>2833782
>>2833794

>Try and sneak around the saloon to get the drop on them. (Risky, too many unknowns.)

Alright, now roll'em.

>1d20, best of three.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2833797
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2833797
witness me
>>
Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>2833797
Here's to hoping for the best.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>2833797
>>
>>2833805
>>2833807
>>2833802
>>2833799

Heheheh, what can I say, except, you're welcome.
>>
>>2833807
Welp. Shit sucks, but what can you do?

>>2833802
>12, not too great, not too bad.
>>
>>2833808
Oh, yeah, sorry, best of the first three rolls is the system I'm operating under.
>>
>>2833809
Better than we hoped, not as bad as we'd feared, and fuck me for rolling that 9.
>>
>>2833810
>>2833809
Yup, I just realized lol.

>>2833811
You did this to me, you'll pay
>>
>>2833815
You're welcome.
Every hero needs some hardship, after all.
>>
File: The Fight.jpg (82 KB, 600x400)
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>>2833768

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg-yC0xcI9s

Dashing around the front of the building, crouching low, to keep any of the bandits from seeing you through the saloon windows, you run across the boardwalk, while gunshots rip through the air where you once stood. Vaulting the fence that blocks off the tight, almost claustrophobic space between the saloon and its stables, you run forward towards the rightmost corner of the saloon, hoping to get the drop on the bandits.

Jumping the other fence, your hopes are well and truly dashed, when you see the positioning of the bandits. They're positioned at just the right angle to turn this from a gunfight to a dime-novel shootout, the kind where neither side has a clear shot, and lead just fills the air.

Squeezing off a few shots with your rifle, you manage to scratch one with shrapnel from the rock, but don't hit him with the bullet at all. The others just duck, and start returning fire towards your new location. They actually clip you once, scratching your shoulder. It's gonna sting like a bitch later, but for now, you can ignore it.

This is bad. You didn't manage to get any more significant shots off, and your right flank is almost entirely exposed, should someone move to take advantage of that fact.

Firing off some shots with your six-shooter around the corner, you keep them suppressed while you think of a plan to get out of this mess.

>Charge towards them. It's the last thing they'll expect. (Stupid dangerous, but incredibly damaging.)
>Retreat back into the alley. You can't just stay out here. (Safe but not at all damaging.)
>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2833832
>>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)
>>
>>2833832
>>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)

Slug it out
>>
>>2833832
>Retreat back into the alley. You can't just stay out here. (Safe but not at all damaging.)

let's beat it, we got lucky there
>>
>>2833832
>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)
Hopefully the Bounty Hunter will capitalize
>>
>>2833832
>Retreat back into the alley. You can't just stay out here. (Safe but not at all damaging.)
>>
>>2833832
>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)
Fortune does not favor the bold
>>
>>2833833
>>2833835
>>2833843
>>2833853

>Engage in a long, drawn-out shootout with the bandits. (Less damaging, with mild danger.)

>Roll 1d20, best of three.

Alright fellas, I've got to sleep, I'll be back tomorrow, hopefully sometime in the afternoon.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2833869
Twenty, incoming.

Sleep well man. Looking forward to the next installment.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>2833869
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>2833869
the only way for me to fuck this up is to roll a 1
>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>2833869
>>
File: YouWin.jpg (55 KB, 600x662)
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>>2834287
good job man, good job!
>>
>>2833871
>19. Nice.
>>
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>>2833832

Firing off some pistol shots around the corner wildly, you keep the bandit's heads down, hopefully giving your fellow fighter an opening to capitalize on. And boy, does he capitalize on it. You almost don't notice the stick of dynamite fly through the air with a hiss, but the bandits sure do, scrambling backwards from their entrenched positions. They almost make it too, before the dynamite explodes, sending the bandits around it flying, dead.

What few remain scatter about, rushing to their horses, running back into the desert. Grabbing up your rifle once more, you and the bounty hunter send them off with a parting barrage of bullets, hoping to give the fleeing bandits a case of lead poisoning. Unfortunately, you only take one more down, causing him to roll out of his saddle with a gurgling shout, before they get away, beyond the range of your rifle.

Firing one parting shot, you come out of your cover, looking for the Bounty Hunter. It doesn't take long, as he emerges from the porch of the general store across the street with a grin, clapping as he approaches you.

"Well, well, well. It seems that Mr. Tin Star can actually fight worth for shit! Good job, good job." Nodding towards the now-distant bandits, he looks to you. "Well, what's your plan for dealing with those rat bastards? I've got some ideas, but I'd like to hear what the mighty conquering hero has to say."

>(Point to the bandits, and then head to your horse.)
>"Track them."
>"Prepare to defend the town from the next attack."
>Write-in.
>>
>>2835632
>>"Track them."

You wouldn't happen to have any ideas where we might find them?
>>
>>2835632
>Track them.
>>
>>2835632
>>"Track Them"
>>
>>2835716
>>2835709
>>2835688

Spitting on the ground, and wiping your face, you point at the retreating bandits' pillar of dust, and say, "Track them back to their holdout." At the bounty hunter's raised eyebrow, you exasperatedly ask, "What?"

The bounty hunter shrugs and says, "Oh, nothing, I was just wondering how you were planning to assault the fort they are operating out of by your own damn self."

Squinting at the bounty hunter, you shake your head. "You know where they are?"

His reply comes with another self-satisfied smirk. "Yep."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

He shrugs. "Wasn't enough time, Tin Star."

Heading back to your horse, you tug your hat lower still, hopefully hiding your frown. "Well, let's head out after them, then?"

Scratching the back of his head, the bounty hunter shrugs. "Well, I would, were I suddenly not fatigued and weary from that fight. Oh well, I suppose I might help you later, after I've recovered from my-" You toss a wad of cash worth twenty five dollars at the bounty hunter, which he deftly catches, and holds up to you, as one might a toast at a dinner.

"I find myself suddenly renewed. Praise the Lord." Following you with a shit-eating grin, he says, "Lead on, Tin Star."

Heading out of the town, you search the desert across the border carefully for any tracks that you might follow. It's easy, at first, as a galloping horse kicks up a significant amount of dirt, but as they slowed in their retreat, to a more reasonable pace, it becomes significantly more difficult to follow a track, especially on a windy day such as this.

>Roll 2d20, best of three.

First die is for The Marshal, and the second, for the Bounty Hunter
>>
Rolled 16, 10 = 26 (2d20)

>>2835879
Yeehaw
>>
Rolled 20, 4 = 24 (2d20)

>>2835879
...
>>
Rolled 2, 12 = 14 (2d20)

>>2835879
>>
Rolled 12, 17 = 29 (2d20)

>>2835879
Good quest Iron, been waiting for a decent western game to roll around.

Also good fucking facelaim for the bounty hunter. Django works perfect.
>>
>>2835909
>>2835912
>>2835919

>Marshal: 20
>Bounty Hunter: 14

Niiiiiiiiiiice.

>>2835922
Thanks!
>>
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>>2835879

Despite the whipping wind blowing sand and dust over the tracks, you manage to spot them, your sharp eyes revealing the slightest divots in the sand. Like a regular Daniel Boone, you don't even need to get off your horse, and steer your horse around several pitfalls and obstacles, such as a rock hidden under sand, or a rattler's crevice.

For the rest of the day, the Chihuahuan desert is yours, revealing its secrets, and its dangers. The Bounty Hunter, for his part, tries, but doesn't come quite close to your level of outdoorsmanship, and leans back in his saddle, apparently dissatisfied in 'losing' to a Tin Star.

Out of the blue, he says, "A regular Davy Crockett, eh?"

You simply nod, watching the ground, and motioning for him to go around a particularly nasty divot in the ground, one that might've snapped his horse's leg. "I get a lot of opportunities to practice."

Scoffing, he moves around the hole, and rolls his eyes. "Well then, I suppose might the outdoorsman tell me where the bandits are right now, judging by the sun in the sky and the spacing of the prints?"

You nod, and point ahead, in the distance, where you see the white dot of a distant building low on the horizon. "There."

-----------------------------------

As you get closer, it becomes apparent that the 'fort' is a repurposed Spanish mission, with several windows boarded up, and two guards standing in front of the gate, watching the horizon. They're not doing a very good job at guarding, since you're about eighty feet away, on a hill, overlooking the mission, lying on your belly.

Next to you, the Bounty Hunter asks, quietly, "I think we should fire on them from here. We both got rifles, and there aren't that many exits to the building."

Contemplating what to do next, you consider the Bounty Hunter's plan. It could work, sure, but a gun battle with an entire fort, even with the high ground on your side, is dangerous, and would take hours upon hours.

What do you choose to do?

>Follow the Bounty Hunter's advice. (Minimal damage, unknown danger.)
>Sneak into the Mission, quietly. (Extremely damaging, lots of danger.)
>Have the Bounty Hunter cover you as you fight your way in. (Average damage, less danger)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2836034
>Have the Bounty Hunter cover you as you fight your way in. (Average damage, less danger)
>”Still got any dynamite?”
>>
>>2836034
>>Have the Bounty Hunter cover you as you fight your way in. (Average damage, less danger)

At least one will try to make a break for it
>>
>>2836050
I second this.
>>
>>2836050
seconding
>>
>>2836088
>>2836077
>>2836072
>>2836050
Roll'em.

>2d20, best of three.

Dice are the same deal as last time.
>>
Rolled 10, 12 = 22 (2d20)

>>2836109
>>
Rolled 17, 5 = 22 (2d20)

>>2836109
Hope and pray. We walk with the law
>>
Rolled 8, 9 = 17 (2d20)

>>2836109
>>
Rolled 6, 1 = 7 (2d20)

>>2836109
>>
>>2836113
>>2836133

>17, 12

Damn, Bounty Hunter isn't getting his chance to shine.

>>2836161
Yikes. Dodged a bullet there.
>>
>>2836165
saved by 10 seconds...
>>
Sorry I've been taking so long, I got into a debate with someone and was carried away for a while.

More in just a bit.
>>
>>2836034
>>2836034

Looking at the Bounty Hunter, you ask, "Got any more dynamite?"

He nods, and grins, holding up two sticks of dynamite. "Plannin on something?"

"Cover me from up here. I'm gonna go see if I can't put a few in the ground, maybe flush a few of them out."

Nodding, the Bounty Hunter raises his rifle to his shoulder, and aims at the two drunken idiots guarding the front gate. "I'll be waiting."

Crouching, and running down the hill on the edge of the guards' periphery, you dash towards the gate, holding your pistol at the ready. They don't notice you on your approach, and they don't notice when you crack one across the back of the head with your pistol butt, and choke one until he goes limp, wrapping your arm around his throat.

Letting them lie on the ground where they fell, you look up at the ridge where the Bounty Hunter is, and give a thumbs up, before heading into the mission courtyard, slipping through the gate quickly, and rolling into the shadows under the gate's wall.

What you see within curls your lip, and makes you frown.

All throughout the courtyard, banditos cavort about, drinking heavily, eating in excess, and in general, feasting, among a truly disgusting amount of pigs and other livestock. The smell alone is almost enough to knock you off your feet. The bandits aside, you see three ways to deal with them or avoid them.

To your left, and your right, the doorways into the buildings built into the wall stand tall, and most importantly, open. The leftward room seems to be a storeroom of some sort, and the room to your right is a completely destroyed confessional room, with only the frescoes over the doorway evidencing it as such. There is also the main chapel, with double doors standing shut behind the feast in the courtyard.

>Go to the left, explore, and find out what they're keeping.
>Go to the right, find a better hiding place to observe the bandits.
>Dynamite the Feast.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2836454
>>Write-in.
Couldn't we just use these two sticks to blow the building foundation to shit? I mean, this shit's used for blasting the way for railroads.
>>
>>2836454
>Go to the right, find a better hiding place to observe the bandits.

I reeeeeally want to just dynamite these fuckers.
>>
>>2836454
>>Go to the right, find a better hiding place to observe the bandits.
We need to optimize our use of dynamite.
>>
>>2836454
>Dynamite the Feast
>>
>>2836454
>>Go to the left, explore, and find out what they're keeping.
>>
>>2836454
>Go to the right, find a better hiding place to observe the bandits.
Gotta be cautious first
>>
>>2836454
>>Go to the right, find a better hiding place to observe the bandits.
>>
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>>2836485
>>2836492
>>2836513

Quickly dashing into the confessional room, you look about, casting for some place to hide that isn't splinters and rubble. You decide to just take cover behind the doorway, instead of trying to fashion the absolutely devastated confessional into cover.

Peering out into the courtyard, you examine the bandits, one-by-one, and try and find the best way past them, or the best place to throw dynamite. There are fifteen men, and for the most part, they are wiry, yet tough men, but there are a few hulking brutes among the bunch, who gobble down food much faster than the rest.

However, your examination of the courtyard is interrupted by a... pull... on your senses. You feel like something is watching you, from behind, and the hackles on your neck raise, giving you goosebumps. Whipping around quickly, pointing your gun around the room, you are, thankfully, alone. But something about this room is... peculiar, and you struggle to find out what it is.

Eventually, you realize it. On the floor, among the splinters of the confessional, there sits a broken cross, and once your eyes set on it, you can't look away, your attention focused on the shattered icon. There's something... wrong about it, and this room, that doesn't sit easy on your thoughts.

Shaking your head, and ripping your focus away from the cross, forcefully, you look back into the courtyard. You're close enough now, that flinging dynamite on the feast wouldn't be a problem. You could also sneak deeper into the mission, running into the freestanding building at your right, or heading over into the storeroom.

>Dynamite the Feast, focusing on the biggest threats. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)
>Head further to the right. (Will reveal more about the compound, will not initiate combat.)
>Head to the storeroom. (Will reveal more about the bandits, will not initiate combat.)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2836602
>Dynamite the Feast, focusing on the biggest threats. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)

We can only keep sneaking around and getting away with it for so long. Let's hit them and check the rooms later. With luck they won't be too bullet-riddled.
>>
>>2836602
>>Dynamite the Feast, focusing on the biggest threats. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)
>>
>>2836602
>>Head to the storeroom. (Will reveal more about the bandits, will not initiate combat.)

They might be occultist bandits. Perhaps the brutes are enhanced in some way.
>>
>>2836602
>>Head to the storeroom. (Will reveal more about the bandits, will not initiate combat.)
Somethin' ain't right with these boys. Best get the lowdown first.
>>
>>2836602
>Try to find where they keep their munition and dynamite the place
>>
Usually I'd try and fuse the two options, but since they're radically different, I'm gonna ask for someone to break the tie.
>>
>>2836696
eh, I'll switch to storeroom
>>
>>2836696
I'll do it. But I'm gonna be hard-set on dynamiting them ASAP after this, barring a massive revelation.

>Head to the storeroom. (Will reveal more about the bandits, will not initiate combat.)
>>
>>2836698
>>2836697
Thanks.
>Head to the storeroom. (Will reveal more about the bandits, will not initiate combat.)
>Writing.
>>
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>>2836602

The short run to the storeroom does not get you noticed, not with the banditos all focused on their bacchanal, and you slip in, still unnoticed. Looking around the storeroom, you try and discern whatever you can about the bandits from their thieving habits.

The first thing you notice is all the food. Casks of salted pork, bags of grain, and an entire (live) cow are the first few things you see, but you also see some... lumpy... bags.

You try not to think about what might be in them too hard.

Creeping about the room slowly, you search the entire room, until only a dark, shadowy corner is left. Approaching the corner, you find yourself hesitating, before shaking it off, and continuing to the corner. Whatever you found, it can't be worse than the cross, right?

You are no stranger to death, but what you see sitting casually atop a barrel of... pork, disgusts you. A human skull, carved in strange, wavy patterns, and coated with resin, to preserve the twisted "art".

Shivering, you back away, and a sudden apprehension takes you. These are no ordinary bandits. However, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that they do, in fact, die like men.

Going the the doorway, you see that the Feast is dying down, and that the bandits are becoming more alert. Luckily, they're still within dynamite range.

>Dynamite 'em. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)
>Hide in the storeroom, try and ambush one. (Risky, might initiate combat.)
>Lure them out of the mission. (Weakly damaging, dangerous.)
>Write-in.
>>
>>2836758
>>Dynamite 'em. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)
A nice dessert of TNT to finish off their heretical meal
>>
>>2836758
>>Dynamite 'em. (Exquisitely damaging, will initiate combat.)
I also want to see what's going on but it'd be rude to keep our friend waiting.
>>
>>2836764
>>2836774

Alright. Roll'em.

>1d20, Best of Three.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2836825
The law comes for all, be they man or demon.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>2836825
>>
Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2836825
>>
>>2836827
>>2836828
>>2836834
Euuuuugh.

>12

>Writing.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>2836839
Testing what I would've rolled.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>2836839
i'm also just testing what I woulda got.
>hour late
oh boy
>>
>>2836758

It seems now is the time to use the dynamite, if at all. Whipping out a match from your pocket, you light it on your boot, and quickly ignite the dynamite sticks. Throwing the dynamite out into the Feast, one after the other, you watch the arc of the two thrown projectiles fly towards the raucous banditos, with them seemingly not noticing.

Disappointingly, however, only one of the sticks of dynamite makes its mark, landing on the table in front of a hulking bruiser. The other, however, bounces off a tall, lanky bandit, who suddenly stands up, as if in reply to to a provocation, and it rolls back, away from the table.

Ducking back behind the stone storeroom wall, you plug your ears with your fingers, and feel the explosions in your chest. Leaning out, looking into the smoke and dust, you see that almost half of the gang is lying motionless on the ground, most likely dead. The other half, though, is recovering already, and reach for their guns, spitting indignantly in Spanish.

Leveling your rifle at the group, you fire, and take down one, but unfortunately, they all turn towards you immediately, raising their guns and firing. A single bullet rakes white-hot across your side, before you make it back into cover. Hissing, you look down at the wound. Not deep, but certainly painful.

As gunfire rings out, and chips of stone fly out into a smoke-covered courtyard, you wonder what your next move will be.

--------------------------------------

Alright boyos, gonna go to sleep. Be back sometime Monday evening. Sorry for the large gap.
>>
>>2836960
Goddamn cultist bandits




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