Deadlands: The Last Sons Recap 1, July 31, 2016 @ 1:00-8:30 P.M.
<<WARNING SPOILERS FOR DEADLANDS: THE LAST SONS! >>
Character Bios:
Player Name: Steven James Black
Character Name: Doyle
Archetype: Voodooist
Born: Louisiana.
Age: Apparent age 18, Born October 16, 1847, “Died” April 8, 1864, “Reborn” April 13, 1864. 33 years total.
Character History:
My best friend growing up was Zachariah LaGrange, it didn’t matter that he was white and I was black. We ran all over the plantation playing games and even beyond playing in swamps and streams outside the plantation but always getting back home before dark. One day, Zachariah was shaking and crying as he told me about how he had been chosen to represent the noble LaGrange family in war. He would fight for the honor and pride of Louisiana. I wanted to come with him, but I was a slave. This was the first time I truly felt the invisible chains that bound me to the LaGrange Plantation. The next three years were filled with much harsher work in the fields rather than Zach’s playmate, but it made me much stronger. In 1864, the Confederacy freed the slaves and I went to join the Confederate Army. I joined up with Zach’s unit. On April 7, 1864, Major General Nathaniel P. Banks led his Army of the Gulf against our unit led by Major General Richard Taylor at Mansfield. It was a rout, but then the whole Union army rose up as zombie soldiers on April 8, 1864 at Pleasant Hill. Zachariah was always a brave soldier but he cried out in shock and fear as the cannonball hit me square in the heart and the dead soldiers kept coming. The last thing I saw was Zach running away, deserting the field in the middle of combat before my eyes closed as the Union dead overran the Confederacy positions.
Days later I awoke, getting up from the ground and seeing a battle continued at Pleasant Valley. Bluebellies and Confederates continued the fight even though they were still dead. I fought my way out of the battlefield, killing any Union dead that got in my way. I made my way back to the LaGrange Plantation. It was a fast trip; I wasn’t hungry, thirsty, and needed only four hours of sleep a night. Unfortunately sleep was nothing but a nightmare of the Bluebellies shooting me in the heart and then shambling dead soldiers crawling to my body and consuming it by tearing limb after limb. I woke up screaming.
When I got there, the LaGrange family and servants were packing up and getting ready to move away from the frontlines that were nearing their plantation as the Union army moved south to steal Confederate cotton for their New England spinners. Something inside me took over. I tried to fight it but I failed.
Archetype: Voodooist
Born: Louisiana.
Age: Apparent age 18, Born October 16, 1847, “Died” April 8, 1864, “Reborn” April 13, 1864. 33 years total.
Character History:
My best friend growing up was Zachariah LaGrange, it didn’t matter that he was white and I was black. We ran all over the plantation playing games and even beyond playing in swamps and streams outside the plantation but always getting back home before dark. One day, Zachariah was shaking and crying as he told me about how he had been chosen to represent the noble LaGrange family in war. He would fight for the honor and pride of Louisiana. I wanted to come with him, but I was a slave. This was the first time I truly felt the invisible chains that bound me to the LaGrange Plantation. The next three years were filled with much harsher work in the fields rather than Zach’s playmate, but it made me much stronger. In 1864, the Confederacy freed the slaves and I went to join the Confederate Army. I joined up with Zach’s unit. On April 7, 1864, Major General Nathaniel P. Banks led his Army of the Gulf against our unit led by Major General Richard Taylor at Mansfield. It was a rout, but then the whole Union army rose up as zombie soldiers on April 8, 1864 at Pleasant Hill. Zachariah was always a brave soldier but he cried out in shock and fear as the cannonball hit me square in the heart and the dead soldiers kept coming. The last thing I saw was Zach running away, deserting the field in the middle of combat before my eyes closed as the Union dead overran the Confederacy positions.
Days later I awoke, getting up from the ground and seeing a battle continued at Pleasant Valley. Bluebellies and Confederates continued the fight even though they were still dead. I fought my way out of the battlefield, killing any Union dead that got in my way. I made my way back to the LaGrange Plantation. It was a fast trip; I wasn’t hungry, thirsty, and needed only four hours of sleep a night. Unfortunately sleep was nothing but a nightmare of the Bluebellies shooting me in the heart and then shambling dead soldiers crawling to my body and consuming it by tearing limb after limb. I woke up screaming.
When I got there, the LaGrange family and servants were packing up and getting ready to move away from the frontlines that were nearing their plantation as the Union army moved south to steal Confederate cotton for their New England spinners. Something inside me took over. I tried to fight it but I failed.
When I regained consciousness, every last man, woman, and
child on the plantation had been killed by my rifle “Old Bess” with a blast to
their hearts. I sunk to my knees and tried to cry. But I could not shed one
damn tear. Feeling like I needed to do something I ripped my shirt open in
rage. It was then I saw it, the hole in my chest where the cannonball had
crushed my torso leaving a concave hole in my torso surrounded by veins and
arteries popping out of my skin. It was then that I realized I hadn’t
miraculously survived the Battle of Pleasant Hill, I was dead. I left Old Bess
and my bayonet on the ground. I gave up such modern technology on that fateful
day.
I went inside the plantation and found records of my Bill of Sale. I was the son of a mixed race couple, a Cheyenne Indian woman named Asha and a black freeman named Marquis who had traded me to the LaGrange family for supplies and cash as they traveled further West. Did they give me up because I was a burden to them? Or was it to protect me from their harsh journey? If the LaGrange family knew I was half Indian and Black why did they let me become fast friends with Zach?
I vowed that I would find my family or their descendants as well as Zach and tell them the truth about what had happened that day. I knew I was half Indian and half Black and thus I had a connection to the spirit world. I could no longer rely upon weapons to protect me in a dangerous world, so I set out to find something I never had before. Faith. I headed to New Orleans and trained with the spiritualists of my people, Voodooists. Why not Shaman? Well I soon learned that damned souls like me literally repel animals so it wasn't an option. After years of training, in Voodoo, I trained in personal defense under the tutelage of a martial artist. Weaponless on a battlefield I could still hold defend myself. The Flood hit soon after that and I knew it was a sign that my training was complete. It was time to begin my quest. I would have to hurry to find my ancestors and Zach as the second Rail Wars heated up and the Union threatened to invade the Sioux Nation where the Cheyenne lived. I booked a stagecoach to take me to the Sioux Nation. Hopefully it was the right Cheyenne, as I heard about there being two separate tribes on the trip north.
Appearance: Impeccably dressed in a black fedora with a purple center band and purple feather, black suit with purple tie, and black boots. Carries a couple of black bags (conjurer's bags and a portable shrine). Smells of cheap liquor and perfume with a tinge of dirt and death underneath.
Personality: Believes in second chances in life and preserving life as part of his penitence and to prevent others from becoming like him, if possible. In the control of the Manitou, he is as malevolent as his real self is beneficent.
Powers: Healing, Succor, Gris-Gris Dolls.
Languages Known: Algonkian d4, English, French d4
Hindrances: Veteran O’ the Weird West: Harrowed, Knows But -1 Dominion
I went inside the plantation and found records of my Bill of Sale. I was the son of a mixed race couple, a Cheyenne Indian woman named Asha and a black freeman named Marquis who had traded me to the LaGrange family for supplies and cash as they traveled further West. Did they give me up because I was a burden to them? Or was it to protect me from their harsh journey? If the LaGrange family knew I was half Indian and Black why did they let me become fast friends with Zach?
I vowed that I would find my family or their descendants as well as Zach and tell them the truth about what had happened that day. I knew I was half Indian and half Black and thus I had a connection to the spirit world. I could no longer rely upon weapons to protect me in a dangerous world, so I set out to find something I never had before. Faith. I headed to New Orleans and trained with the spiritualists of my people, Voodooists. Why not Shaman? Well I soon learned that damned souls like me literally repel animals so it wasn't an option. After years of training, in Voodoo, I trained in personal defense under the tutelage of a martial artist. Weaponless on a battlefield I could still hold defend myself. The Flood hit soon after that and I knew it was a sign that my training was complete. It was time to begin my quest. I would have to hurry to find my ancestors and Zach as the second Rail Wars heated up and the Union threatened to invade the Sioux Nation where the Cheyenne lived. I booked a stagecoach to take me to the Sioux Nation. Hopefully it was the right Cheyenne, as I heard about there being two separate tribes on the trip north.
Appearance: Impeccably dressed in a black fedora with a purple center band and purple feather, black suit with purple tie, and black boots. Carries a couple of black bags (conjurer's bags and a portable shrine). Smells of cheap liquor and perfume with a tinge of dirt and death underneath.
Personality: Believes in second chances in life and preserving life as part of his penitence and to prevent others from becoming like him, if possible. In the control of the Manitou, he is as malevolent as his real self is beneficent.
Powers: Healing, Succor, Gris-Gris Dolls.
Languages Known: Algonkian d4, English, French d4
Hindrances: Veteran O’ the Weird West: Harrowed, Knows But -1 Dominion
Intolerance (Minor):
Due to being shot dead by Union soldiers, has a hatred of Bluebellies.
Old Ways Oath
(Minor): After Doyle left Old Bess on the ground and found out about his
Cheyenne heritage, he forsook modern technology especially all guns. Only if taken over by the Manitou does he use guns.
Vow (Major): Tell
his family on his Cheyenne side and Zachariah of his sin of massacring everyone
at the LaGrange Plantation on May 7, 1864 and suffer the consequences of his actions.
Player Name: Chessie
Character Name: JimBob Hatfield
Archetype: Bank Robber
Born: Williamson, West Virginia
Character Name: JimBob Hatfield
Archetype: Bank Robber
Born: Williamson, West Virginia
Age: 31
Character History: JimBob performed a bank robbery in Kentucky before fleeing west (I'd imagine the McCoys might be angry about that). Gained the Rich edge from the money gained. Coming to Deadwood to rob its bank (and maybe get Very Rich).
Appearance: Full body long johns with the flap loose due to El Cheapo gear for a good ole -1 charisma. Wears a belt of dynamite (a shotgun shell belt modified to hold dynamite instead). Has a mule named Bubba with two saddlebags with two cases of dynamite.
Personality: A brusque lout willing to kill anyone for money.
Hindrances: Greedy (M), Grim Servant O' Death (M)
Character Name: Alex O' Hara
Archetype: Drifter, Outlaw
Age: 17
Character History: Alex O' Hara is actually a black woman pretending to be a black man to prevent herself from being found for a crime she committed.
Appearance: Multiple layers of clothing and a long black duster to hide her femininity.
Archetype: Drifter, Outlaw
Age: 17
Character History: Alex O' Hara is actually a black woman pretending to be a black man to prevent herself from being found for a crime she committed.
Appearance: Multiple layers of clothing and a long black duster to hide her femininity.
Personality: Tries not to speak to maintain her disguise. Speaks with a male falsetto when she does speak.
Hindrances: Combat Shock (M), Wanted (m)
Player Name: Jennifer
Character Name: Carolynn "Catt" Whateley
Archetype: Witch/Huckster
Character History: Carolynn is Rudy's sister. Carolynn and Rudy are some of the few Whateleys remaining with the destruction of their island and Gomorra in The Flood. Rudy took a dirt nap and came back from the dead as a Harrowed.
Appearance: Red-headed woman with haunting green eyes and a tight, black leather dress and boots. Attractive due to her Whateley blood and looks the part of a vixen. Has a cat named Lynx as an animal companion.
Personality: Completely and utterly narcissistic, she is the prettiest there is and not afraid to use it to her advantage. She uses her seduction and charm to gain the things she craves such as wealth, clothing, and accessories.
Powers: Bolt, Charm
Hindrances: Veteran of the Weird West: Bollixed, Heavy Sleeper (m), Grim Servant O' Death (M)
Player Name: Jennifer
Character Name: Carolynn "Catt" Whateley
Archetype: Witch/Huckster
Character History: Carolynn is Rudy's sister. Carolynn and Rudy are some of the few Whateleys remaining with the destruction of their island and Gomorra in The Flood. Rudy took a dirt nap and came back from the dead as a Harrowed.
Appearance: Red-headed woman with haunting green eyes and a tight, black leather dress and boots. Attractive due to her Whateley blood and looks the part of a vixen. Has a cat named Lynx as an animal companion.
Personality: Completely and utterly narcissistic, she is the prettiest there is and not afraid to use it to her advantage. She uses her seduction and charm to gain the things she craves such as wealth, clothing, and accessories.
Powers: Bolt, Charm
Hindrances: Veteran of the Weird West: Bollixed, Heavy Sleeper (m), Grim Servant O' Death (M)
Player Name: Kevin
Character Name: Rudy "Roo" Whateley
Archetype: Hexslinger
Character History: Rudy is Carolyn's brother. Rudy took a dirt nap and came back from the dead as a Harrowed, serving a particularly nasty Manitou that has taken over his body completely.
Appearance: Always has a bandana on that covers his mouth and wears a black duster. His death wound is from a split in his mouth and cheeks when someone made him smile a little too wide if you get my drift pardner.
Personality: Unlike Doyle, he has completely given in to the Manitou and takes orders from it (Dominion -4). He almost worships it as a god.
Powers: Boost Trait, Light/Obscure, Quickness
Hindrances: Veteran of the Weird West: Bad Luck, Intolerant: Rangers (m) (I imagine they might have something to do with him taking that dirt nap), Grim Servant O' Death (M), Mark of the Devil
Three characters with Grim Servant O' Death, my Voodooist healer has his work cut out for him.
Doyle's Journal Entry 1 (written in Algonkian)
Wednesday September 8, 1880-September 10, 1880
Bismark, Dakota towards Deadwood
I get in a stagecoach driven by a man named Jeb McKever and guarded by his bigger brother Big Danny McKever holding a mean looking shotgun.
I once used such guns to fight the Union for the Confederacy but died in the war. When I returned, I fought my way back home to the LaGrange Plantation in Louisiana only for the Manitou to take control of my body. The Manitou shot the entire LaGrange family through the heart by an old Lee-Enfield Musket I called Old Bess one by one. The Manitou left me to show me the carnage I had wrought under its control. I dropped to my knees and tried to cry but I couldn't. The tear ducts wouldn't work. I dropped Old Bess and vowed to never touch a gun again by my own choice of free will as long as I was in control. I looked around the LaGrange Plantation but found no survivors.
Just seeing Danny holding the shotgun over his right shoulder brings back the memory of that day as if it happened yesterday.
There are four other passengers in the cramped stagecoach. A red-headed lady with an almost supernatural aura of beauty with green eyes that glitter with mischief, a black man with shifty eyes and a nervousness about him who barely glances at the lady, and a white man who leers at the lady with no shame. Cheap clothing reveals all too much of his rear due to a faulty back flap in his long johns, thankfully we are sitting most of the time.
The last passenger was once an ugly white man. There is an aura about him that marks him as one who has been damned by the Devil like me. The rada loa show me this as plain as the sun in the day sky. He wears a bandana that hides his mouth making you focus on his eyes that burn with a baleful rage.
As for me, I am overdressed for this stage coach. I smell of Old Crow and cheap perfume. I long ago ran out of the Louisiana rum that I had with me when I started the journey. The white man with no shame sneers at me while I drink Old Crow as if he hasn't something against the whiskey I am drinking. What's wrong with cheap Kentucky whiskey? I know it's no Old Jake Beam, but it gets the job done.
None of us talk much, we all got stories that are written on our faces with our body language but none of us want to tell them to each other. All of us got something to hide and we want it kept that way.
I make a Gris-Gris doll over the three days, combining all five of us as a single entity. The head of the damned one, the arm of the one who hides, the arm of the one who leers, my leg, and the girl's leg. She stares at me as I carve the doll and I can sense she doesn't appreciate my gawking of her leg. She must think that I lust after her like the one who leers. She doesn't seem to understand the difference of one looking at her as a sitting model for art and one whose desire is written on their face with pupils widening, jowls widening, and tongue wagging. Regardless of that, rising from the dead prevents the rise of desire ever again. She need not worry about me. She might think it's a voodoo doll meant to affect her. In a way she is right. But it's not that kind of voodoo doll, it doesn't represent just her, it represents all of us in the stagecoach. With the doll carved, I imbue it with the power to strengthen or weaken all those depicted in the doll. Beneficial powers can't affect me from my own Voodoo but if I feel the Manitou trying to take control, perhaps I can use the doll to reduce my accuracy with guns before it tries to take over again.
[The Gris-Gris doll was for Boost/Lower Trait]
Just as I finish the doll, the stage coach hits an obstacle. We flip onto the side. The sleepy girl flies out the window and hits the ground outside but the rest of us inside are unharmed. A man named Sam Bass threatens us. Our money for our lives. You are far too late to claim that.
I clamber out of the stagecoach. The groggy girl wakes up and says something about having her beauty rest disturbed while holding her ribs. She looks up at me in fear as I touch her holding a chicken bone that I break in half like a wishbone. The bone vanishes as I chant to the loa and her ribs pop back into place. She gasps audibly in surprise as she can suddenly breathe easily then pulls away with revulsion at my touch without her permission.
The McKever brothers get off the ground and grab their shotgun and Bowie knives, taking cover behind the stagecoach. The driver falls flat there, knowing he has brought a knife to a gunfight and preferring defense to offense as a result.
The vain girl glares at me as if to say I don't need your help as she gets up off the ground and meets up with her bobcat taking cover in the nearby woods.
The damned one tries to use some dark magic but it backfires and he is surrounded by a green glowing sphere. Disorientated he stumbles backwards behind the stage coach.
[Kevin actually tried to create a flare bullet for light but failed to make the quick rune using hexslinging.]
The other two stay in the stagecoach and hide. The shifty man screams and climbs out of the carriage. He stumbles forward towards the outlaws and lies down.
[Bobbie gained Claustrophobia [Major] from a Combat Shock roll right off the bat.]
Sam Bass and company mistake this for compliance and try to take his money, but find him unwilling to part with his money. He somehow dodges a barrage of rifle butts as they try to knock out the suddenly resisting man.
I see a glint of light in the woods and one of the outlaws drops. Probably a knife hidden in the girl's boot that caught the moonlight just right. At near New Moon it had to be a perfect shot to do that. With a growl, her bobcat pounces and takes down another outlaw.
[Jennifer's character Carolynn cast Bolt actually]
The damned one moves forward and tries to fan the hammer but is inside a small sphere of green glowing light that makes his shots go awry. He shoots the prone black man on the ground surrounded by outlaws instead. A second spray of bullets manages to kill one of the outlaws. Only way to do that would be supernatural speed to fan twelve shots in the air so quickly.
I hear a shotgun blast and the black man cries out that they done shot him in the rear. Another outlaw drops from the force of the buckshot's other barrel.
After hearing his screams and cursing, I bring out a chicken feather and press it into his wound. The feather seals the wound becoming flesh and the feather's vein becomes a suture of the same pattern as the vein.
The shameless white man climbs out of the stagecoach and draws his Bowie knife, stabbing one of the outlaws on my left in the kidney.
Suddenly the cat pounces on Sam Bass and pins him down. I check for signs of life in the outlaws as the group parleys with Sam Bass, eventually trading his freedom for $150 CSA dollars. I find one of them alive and snap a chicken bone near his ear to make him awake. I force the outlaw to abandon his weapons and follow Sam Bass away from the stage coach. Sam Bass and his last follower have a second chance at life. Don't waste it.
The red-headed woman walks off after her bobcat and comes back with the stagecoach team of four horses. Danny says it'll be five hours to complete repairs to the stagecoach before it can be used again. Its difficult work in the dark and the main damage looks like it`s in the front of the stagecoach but I don't have Zach's acumen for repairs. I drag the four dead outlaws into the surrounding forest. I don't have a shovel to bury them. At least they are off the stagecoach path and won't be run over. I stab them all in the eye with my sacrificial bone knife to prevent them from becoming damned like me.
We hear a train coming through in the night, but we dismiss it as an Iron Dragon repair train here with supplies to fix the rail line which we know to be in shambles.
Suddenly, a horse gallops towards us, halts, and drops a badly injured Indian brave in front of us. I heal the Indian's wounds as best I can. He tries to talk to me in an Indian language I don't know. I try to ask what happened in Algonkian, French, and finally English.
The Indian brave replies to me in English that he is Sky Hawk and that we must save a Ghost Dancer named Wovoka. Their tipi was surrounded by snipers out to kill them all. Sky Hawk had been sent as an outrider to get help but was shot in the back by a Winchester as he fled. I agreed to help and the rest of the stagecoach passengers agreed as well if a bit more reluctantly. To them it was more something to do as the stagecoach got fixed. We left the McKever brothers to guard and fix the stagecoach as we followed Sky Hawk toward a two-way battle.
[Bobbie played Uh Oh! which made the next encounter pretty brutal. Giving +2 strength to an opponent when they d12s already...]
The bobcat pounces up in the air and misses a monster in the darkness.
A flying creature grabs Sky Hawk and absconds with our guide. He is limp in the monster's claws as it bites down on his neck feeding on the truly courageous brave. I tried to save him, but in the end it was his fate to die getting help for Wovoka. I must make sure his sacrifice was not in vain.
One of the flying creatures simply hits the ground breaking its neck after missing its swipe with its claws.
[Bobbie played Not Today (two plays with Uh Oh!)]
One of the flying creatures grabs the damned one and drops him to the ground. He survives the fall as he didn't land on his head.
One of the flying creatures grabs the shameless one and takes him far into the air. Somehow, he grabs the creature's wings and forces the creature to the ground where he safely rolls out of its grapple. The frustrated creature flies away.
We don't have time to examine the dead creature on the ground. We hear the sounds of gunshots up ahead with the flying creatures dead or gone. We creep up to gain surprise finding a single tipi on a ridge being fired at by other Indians with Winchesters. I tell the rest of the stagecoach passengers that the ones firing at tipi with guns forbidden by the Old Ways Oath are enemies and those on the ridge are allies.
I assess the situation. I decide to grab my Gris-Gris doll and direct a spell at the damned one. Perhaps the only way to save the Indians is to make sure he shots straight this time. So I make him more accurate and send a prayer to the loa to protect Wovoka and his last defenders.
It doesn't matter though; he moves quickly and fans the hammer, killing two of the Indians with rifles but also shooting one of the Indians down.
The girl and her cat use the same tactics as before. They take cover in the forest as she throws a knife to kill a brave. I see the glint of the moonlight off the blade again as its thrown and start to wonder. Once in the New Moon, but twice? The bobcat pounces on one of the outlaws and rips his right leg off.
The shameless man uses his Bowie knife to stab one of the outlaws.
The black man draws his gun and shots another outlaw.
With our surprise attack, the enemies' western flank has completely folded.
The damned one uses spirit powers to summon two spirits from the world of the petro loas. They rush at the enemy leader and try to capture him as he tells us that he wants the enemy leader alive.
I rush to the Indians, dropping prone on the steps. I tell the braves to drag the shaman over to me so I can heal the shaman. The braves bring him over and I heal the shaman. The braves and shamans drop prone along the western ridge. With most of the outlaws remaining on the eastern ridge they have no clear line of sight on us through the hill and tipi.
In my prone position I can't see much of the battlefield. The sounds of the fight are carried to me, gunfire, cat growls, and then two explosions rock the ridge. The air is choked with smoke from gunpowder and explosions.
After I check on the Indians I head down the west stairs to find the other stagecoach riders mostly wounded. The eastern stairs on the ridge have crumbled away completely from dynamite. The shameless one is completely naked from a dynamite explosion that probably should have killed him. His flammable gear is burnt to a crisp and all his metal looks slightly melted. He forces his way into some of the clothes the Indians with guns were using but it wasn't built for a man of his large build. The girl looks shocked as the rock she used for cover has been slagged and she had been burned on her hands she used to cover herself. I healed them and then asked the Indians if they had any other survivors to heal...
[In most games I think my girlfriend's character would simply be chunky salsa. The main baddie threw dynamite at her character and all 11 sticks and the nitro on her character exploded with it. Something like 5d6+5 damage or so. The main baddie did the same thing though by dropping dynamite with deviation on him. Well her character still has 36 sticks on the mule at least. Jennifer said, "You can only be alive be the power of cartoons!"
While I was busy healing people, Rudy snuck off with the main baddie and had a snack. Well the meat was certainly cooked at least.]
[It was 8:30 P.M. and very late so we ended session before Wovoka could tell us what was really going on here. I played my Enemy Reinforcements for next game in case of another fight on the way to Deadwood.]
[End of Session]
XP: 3
Loot: $30 CSA
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