IC Thread. CoC. "I shall show you fear in a handful of dust."

thirdkingdom

Member
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Corporal Thomas Worthington III

"And this is the motivator" he explains to Kimball, "the gasoline goes through here and is excited by friction, where it expands and propels the vehicle forward towards . . ." his voice trails off as the rider pulls short at the gate. "Best be on guard," he says, as he closes the hood with a clang.
 

Iustum

RPGnet Newsletter Editor
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Thibodeau

"Capitan... I must see your commanding officer…..It's terrible….My town has been over run…" His English is good enough to be understood, despite the long pauses for breath and obvious discomfort.

The commotion at the gate is unusual enough that all those in the camp see the arrival of the rider. The walls of the camp are in the most part none existent, the gate being a post across the road that can be raised by leaning on one end.
OOC: Psychology to get a read on the guy 55%: 40 is a success.


"Just hold up a minute there, sir." Thibodeau says with a raised hand. He looks to his Sergeant for guidance as he keeps the man talking. "What town did you say you were from?"
 

ncc2010

Blue Blaze Irregular
RPGnet Member
Validated User
The rider comes to a gradual halt, the dust momentarily blinding both sergeant Summers and private Thibodeau. Once it clears the soldiers can see that the horse has been ridden hard, it's frothing at the mouth and it's flanks are wet from sweat.

The rider dismounts, turning out to be a Mexican peyon, who like his horse looks exhausted and is covered from head to toe in dust.

"Capitan... I must see your commanding officer…..It's terrible….My town has been over run…" His English is good enough to be understood, despite the long pauses for breath and obvious discomfort.

The commotion at the gate is unusual enough that all those in the camp see the arrival of the rider. The walls of the camp are in the most part none existent, the gate being a post across the road that can be raised by leaning on one end.
The Sergeant allowed the peon to answer Thibodeau, all the intel they could gather would make it easier to foresee what the Captain would do, then he continued, "Private Thibodeau," Zeb said slowly, his tones measured and his face blank, "stand by and be ready." Ready for what, the Sergeant didn't say, but left it as a vague threat that was still hanging out there somewhere in that dusty horizon. "I'll take this man to see the Lieutenant."

He gave a little gesture with his free hand - his left hand, the right was resting lightly on the butt of his pistol - towards where the Lieutenant stood (uselessly so, in his own estimation, but let officers be officers). "This way, amigo," and stepped lightly towards the man. Kid. Whatever.

"SIR!"

EDITED FOR OTHERS ACTIONS :)
 

Talisman

The Man of Talis
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Private Jeffrey Kimball

The glazed look left Jeffrey's eyes as Cpl. Worthington slammed the hood down. Straightening out of his customary slouch and flicking his non-regulation-length bangs out of his eyes, he peered toward the gate, noting the cloud of dust and the irregular hoofbeats of a hard-ridden horse.

He cocked an eye at Cpl. Worthington. "Should we be on guard a little closer, Corporal?"
 

ncc2010

Blue Blaze Irregular
RPGnet Member
Validated User
As they began that trek towards the Lieutenant, Zeb made, gained, eye contact with Corporal Worthington and flicked his eyes in a, 'join us' shift. Get Worthy involved and then get him to gear the men up was the plan for the day...and a slight smile creased Sergeant Summers' lips. Back into the fray.
 

Walkie Talkie Noise Decoder

There are monkey boys in the facility
Validated User
"Just hold up a minute there, sir." Thibodeau says with a raised hand. He looks to his Sergeant for guidance as he keeps the man talking. "What town did you say you were from?"
The man answers quickly, looking from private to sergeant "I am from the town of La Junta…. It is one hundred miles west from here."

OOC: Thibodeau feels that this man is the real deal, telling the truth and suffering from real terror. Also he can tell that his horse needs to be rubbed down and watered. Both Summers and the private remember seeing the town marked on the map. It's a real place, but they know nothing about it.



The Sergeant allowed the peon to answer Thibodeau, all the intel they could gather would make it easier to foresee what the Captain would do, then he continued, "Private Thibodeau," Zeb said slowly, his tones measured and his face blank, "stand by and be ready." Ready for what, the Sergeant didn't say, but left it as a vague threat that was still hanging out there somewhere in that dusty horizon. "I'll take this man to see the Lieutenant."

As they began that trek towards the Lieutenant, Zeb made, gained, eye contact with Corporal Worthington and flicked his eyes in a, 'join us' shift. Get Worthy involved and then get him to gear the men up was the plan for the day...and a slight smile creased Sergeant Summers' lips. Back into the fray.

He gave a little gesture with his free hand - his left hand, the right was resting lightly on the butt of his pistol - towards where the Lieutenant stood (uselessly so, in his own estimation, but let officers be officers). "This way, amigo," and stepped lightly towards the man. Kid. Whatever.

"SIR!"
The 2nd Lieutenant can be seen just exiting Colonel Herbert Jermain Slocum's office. He stops at the sergeant's approach and returns the salute.

A nervous gaze sweeps from nco, to peon, and then to the nearby mess tent where the sounds of chow being served can be heard.

"Erm, yes sergeant what seems to be the problem? Is this man under arrest?"

Eyes bulging the exhausted Mexican visibly sags at this.

The commander's office is a wooden building with a roof that extends out over a raised wooden verandah. Windows are open, allowing a breeze when it appears, to keep those within refreshed. Outside sits a full horse trough.

OOC: There is one other npc guard at the gate with Thibodeau. I'm not sure if Sergeant Summers was asking him to escort the Mexican or stand at the gate. Interpret it as you wish.
 
Last edited:

RuneMagus

Registered User
Validated User
James takes the chance while attention is turned towards the rider to lean on his pitchfork and just watch the scene unfold.
 

Walkie Talkie Noise Decoder

There are monkey boys in the facility
Validated User
James takes the chance while attention is turned towards the rider to lean on his pitchfork and just watch the scene unfold.
Something hits the soldier on his head, landing at his feet. Looking down he can see that it's a dry piece of horse shit.

"You missed a piece…"

It's a grinning Tea Square, one of the regiment's Apache scouts, who rises from where he'd been leaning on the bars of the corral and saunters off towards his friend private Kimball

"What's going on Amos?" he asks in Navajo, pointing towards the Colonel's office. The two men had found they'd a common second language and practised it at every opportunity. Tea Square was from the Apache nation, but had a gift for languages, horses, tracking and practical jokes. He nodded at Corporal Worthington and ignored Private Higgins.
 
Last edited:

Iustum

RPGnet Newsletter Editor
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Thibodeau

Thibodeau would like to follow the man in to listen to his conversation with the Lieutenant, but he also doesn't want to get court martialed for leaving his post at the gate, so he keeps his station.
 

Walkie Talkie Noise Decoder

There are monkey boys in the facility
Validated User
The Camp Gate
Thibodeau

Thibodeau would like to follow the man in to listen to his conversation with the Lieutenant, but he also doesn't want to get court martialed for leaving his post at the gate, so he keeps his station.
The other trooper on guard at the gate is private Charles Thockmorton, several years older than Walter the man can be an arrogant piece of work when he wants to be. Leaning over to his companion and pulling something out of his pocket he whispers in his Boston accent

"I ever show you a picture of my sister Abigail?" It's a photo of a young lady, probably Walter's age. Sweet looking in a summer dress, in one of those set piece pictures with a painted backdrop of a garden in the background. Like her brother she conveys an air of wealth and easy living.
 
Top Bottom