The Mystic West.

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

Kicking the saloon doors open, a man with a shot gun slung over his shoulder entered. Most would have had their heads blown off for such an action, but he was the law here, in this small town, and no one dared to lift arms toward him. No one was that much of a fool. He strode over to the bar and slapped his hand on the counter top. "Old Eddy! Serve me up a whiskey friend." He called as he slung his shot gun down next to his side and plopped down onto a bar stool. He ignored the hustle and bustle of the saloon about him as he waited for his drink. He had a bad feeling about the day, and he couldn't shake it. Something evil was in the air and it was coming this way... Sometimes Herbert hated this intuition of his... Especially when it was right... He turned toward the saloon's rickity swing doors and waited...

 

[Valdimer]

Walt.....just plain ol Walt.




Walt walked the old dusty road that lead to the town in the middle of the desert. Walt was an old man.....his boots very much worn in, his chaps cracked from the constant abuse of the sun, his shirt which was once white, now looked like part of the road, his vest basicly falling apart at the seems, and his hat.....old, crumpled, and definatly form fitted to his head.

Taking a drag off his pipe, Walt moved his gaze from his feet to the small cemetary that lie ahead of him, jsut a few hundred yards from the town. Stopping, he took off his hat. "Poor souls. Not a one o ya deserved to die.....them younguns, the lot o nice folk....you didnt want to be in the way o all dem bullets anyhow. You outlaws...yer time wasnt up, was it? No sir, even though you were bad, you still had yer heads on straight, heh, when the whiskey wasnt cloggin it. No sir, not a one o ya deserved to die."

Walt stood there for just a few minutes longer, takeing a puff every now and then off his pipe. Putting his hat back on, Walt contintued along his way toward the town.........




Behind Walt, mere moments after his passing, the loose dirt and sand of the desert floor began to unearth itself. Hands started to protrude from the ground, grave stones gave way to half rotted heads and bodies clawing franticlly to get out of thier eternal graves.......Zombies, rotting bodies....Men, women, children....all followed slowly behind Walt toward the town......

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

It was becoming harder and harder for Herbert to just sit in wait... Something was coming, it was like a scratch on the roof of his mouth that couldn't stop tonguing in annoyance. That was the worst of it, the not knowing... His heart was beating faster now, and he felt the cold clammy sheen of sweat on his brow. Something wasn't natural around here... He shot from his seat less then a minute before the first screams came from outside. Rushing out of the saloon, snatching up his shot gun as he went, Herbert was taken completely off guard by what he saw coming down main street toward him. A completely unassuming older fellow... With a pack of the living dead following on his heels. "No! This can't be! The dream! It's real! No! No! No!" Herbert said frantically to himself. Several folk from the saloon peeked out behind him, then ducked out of sight. Tables and chairs were being kicked and turned up inside... One thing bout this town, it knew when war was in the air... Herbert swallowed a dusty swallow and leveled his shot gun. "Move out of the way, ya damned fool!" He barked at the old man as his finger began to squeeze the trigger.

 

[starkweather]

whats all that racket

John was always a man of faith, sure he carried a gun an all, but so does half the population. He attended church as often as possible. It had been two long years since he last attented any church, but the faith was still there, he chould feel it. when he awoke this morning he could feel his faith building inside of him, was it a warning of some kind, or maybe a special purpose in this town. He had no idea, all he knew was that he needed to get up and find out what was going on. " This town" Jhon began, " has something to offer me, and I'm going to find out what it is!" With that John put on his clothes and gun. Suddenly he heard a loud shot come from outside, "what in blazes?" John said, he quickly ran to the door and swung it open violently and ran down the stairs, he burst through the saloon doors to find a man firring a shot gun, he looked at what the man was firing at "zombies" John said, he quickly pulled out his army .44 and aimed it at the zombies.

 

[Valdimer]

Walt


Walt payed little mind to the man shouting at him. As the sheriff pulled the trigger to his gun, Walt, absent mindedly stepped sideways, with his gaze still on his feet, as the buck shot slammed into one of the zombies, cleaving it's body in two. Walt turned, and watched as the zombie fell to the ground, clawing it way now toward the saloon.

He looked around him, watching as zombies slowly walked toward townsfolk, or disgustingly ate them, and said, turning his attention back to the sheriff, " They didnt deserve to die! Not a one o them, ya hear?" tears forming in his eyes. He pulled out a hankercheif, wiped his nose, and continued on, toward the saloon......

 

[Angelus]

Alex

Alex walked out into the street and the first thing that he saw was the group of zombies moving slowly towards his second home, the saloon. He pulled his revolvers from their holsters and with a shout began to fire at them. A couple of the zombies fell to the ground but got up seconds later and Alex wondered just what the hell was happening here. He ran towards the saloon just to see the old man at the head of the group and then saw the sheriff standing there, his shotgun in his hands.
"Okay sheriff, can you please tell me what is going on here?"

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

It was his dream... His dream was coming true! The dead walked! And they were coming to claim his town! Herbert stood there in stark terror of the sceen before him... The old man said something about them not deserving their deaths... Herbert's stomach twisted into a knot. He fired once, the man was the one doing it... Somehow, some way he was bringing the dead to life... He had to stop him! Unearingly, the old man evaded the shot gun blast! It cut through a zombie not far behind him though... Cut through him like tissue paper! The undead... Thing was ripped in two! Its guts spilling out, its legs still standing there rigidly! Its upper half began to claw its way forward though... Herbert began to mumble... "This can't be happening... I can't be here..." HE repeated it over and over until another shot was fired, and another. Some more of the dead fell, but clamored back to their feet only seconds later... The one Herbert himself had fired on had crawled directly for him. Its knotted, gnarled fingers clasping his boot suddenly, pulling Herbert from his terror induced chant. He screamed as he looked down to see the dead man's ripped mouth, dirt and worms spilled from its lips as it looked up with loose, rheumy eyes. Without thinking, Herbert aimed his shot gun square for the things head and fired... A second later, the thing had no head, what was left of it painted Herbert's leathers... Looking up slowly, the zombie's remains still clinging to his face, Herbert was face to face with the old man... "Why? ...Wh-why???" He asked, his voice shaking. The death knells of men could be heard over the random gun fire... Women shreiked, and children cried out... It was all too much for Herbert's mind to handle as he stared into the old man's eyes.

 

[Valdimer]

Walt


Walt watched as the sheriff shot one blast after another. "Why? Wh-Why?" he heard the sheriff say. "Cause, they didnt deserve to die. They need to live to you know." he said, making his way into the saloon, a few straggling zombies following behind him, more for the sheriff and the man that had just recently joined him, than for Walt.

Walt looked around, and noticing that the bartender had fled, walked behind the bar, pulled himself out a bottle of both beer and whiskey, and returned to his stool and sat down, saying, " Nope, not a one o them, not at all. It's a shame too."........

 

[Angelus]

Alex

Alex turned to the old man and said, "What are you talking about old man. Why didn't they have to die and who killed them. I know that it was not me- I haven't killed anyone in this town or anywhere else that I know of. Now, can you please tell me just what is going on and how this can be stopped as I don't wish to join the group of those walking dead things."

It was then that he heard a noise and turned just in time to see one of the undead come out of nowhere. Alex had just enough time to bring up his guns and fire them, the bullets slamming into the undead man's eyes and causing him to fly backwards. Alex turned back to the old man and shouted out, "Why old man. Why is this happening?!"

 

[Valdimer]

Walt


Walt looked, somewhat quiziclly at the sheriff's companion. "What do you mean son? I thought they didnt deserve to die, and lookie, here they are...I guess the good graciousness of the lord finally heard what they wanted. Who killed them? Why, the bullets, and I guess just not bein where they shoulda been, or maybe they came apon their time to soon, who knows." he said, giving a nod. "Now, if you dont mind there fella, let an old man finish his whiskey in peace." he said, turning his back to him as gunshots and screams could be heard from all over the town.......

 

[Angelus]

Alex

At first Alex didn't know what to say, what was there to say to a man that was obviously crazy. He had brought back the dead and for what reason other than to say that they didn't deserve to die. Alex looked at the zombies that moved closer to the sheriff and himself and slid his guns back into their holsters. He pulled a stick of dynamite from his coat and looked back at the old man with a smile before he lit the fuse. He threw the stick straight into the middle of the group of zombies and without warning the dynamite exploded.

Alex opened his eyes and looked out at the area in front of the saloon and as the dust cleared he saw that he had killed several of them. But they were still coming, most of them were now half of what they once were. He pulled his guns out of his holsters and fired at them, shouting out, "What does it take to kill you!"

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

Numbed by the old mans reply, Herbert felt as though an icy hand had reached into his chest and squeezed at his heart. He could only stare as the man simply walked by him and into the saloon... Again he was only torn from this sort of trance by another of the zombies... The Zombie threw itself against his back, knocking him face first to the ground. Rotten teeth tried to bite through his leathers, but snapped and shattered as the zombie's jaws closed tightly. It still hurt like a sonofabitch, but Herbert's flesh wasn't punctured... With a frightened shout, Herbert threw his shoulder back, knocking the foul thing off his back. Following through with the butt of his shot gun, he shattered the things jaw, leaving its face a sundered mess. The things tongue lulled about within what was left of its mouth as its half shattered jaw opened and closed with little snaps and pops. Herbert felt bile suddenly rising in the back of his throat as his eyes took this in. "Jesus!" He gagged back his vomit reflex and scurried off on his back, using his elbows and feet to push away.

 

[starkweather]

John was continuing to fire when the old man walked past him into the bar, they were everywhere, in houses, out houses, stores, everything. " My God, what in the name of Jesus is going on." John maneged to say between shots. He had come hoping to find peace, but found a mission in stead. "Damn you satian for bringing them here, I will send them back to you in pieces" John screamed. Just then his gun made a funny noise... click, click, click, his gun was empty. For the first time in Johns life he felt scared, a zombie suddenly knocked John over on to the ground, they both fell to the earth with John on the reciving end of the death blow soon to come. "Lord Jesus" John maneged to say in terror, but the zombie simply moaned at him and clawed despretly at Johns chest. Suddenly John felt anger and rage well up inside him, he took his fist and slammed it into the zombies face, SPLAT, was all that was heard. Blood spewed from the wound all over Johns face and clothes. John had discovred that his arm was fully through the things head, the zombies brain was cluched in Johns hand. "oh God, what am i going to do now." John truned his head to sheild himself from the blood and saw two zombies approching. This was defently going to be a long day.

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

Gettting to his feet, Herbert was slipping into a hysteria. He couldn't think anymore, he was running on instinct now... He didn't let a single thing near him as he ran, ran for the stables. He had to get a horse and get out of her... He just had to! The town was going to hell and he wasn't about to follow in after it!

 

[PmTick]

Tyler sat at the back of the Saloon finishing off a bottle of Jack. He had only been in town a few hours but already knew he didn't like this place. "They're following I know it." As Tyler poured the last morsel of JD down his throat, he remembered when he was 6 years old, when the whole thing had started....Ever since then he had been running from the Zombies. He decided not too long ago he would stop running, but he had been exiled from almost every town he had settled down in. He caught a wiff of something in the air, the smell of Zombies had been so prevalant on his clothing he often wondered if people thought he was a zombie. He heard some shots fire outside, "Better check this one out." He pulled out his twin six-shooters and headed outside to see what the commosion was.

 

[LAVA GODDESSS]

[No message]

 

[LAVA GODDESSS]

Gaia

(Pronounced: Guy-uh)

IC:

Her long raven black hair flowed to her waist, her piercing green eyes lit up in the night as she danced around the fire. The soft skin that laid tightly against her 5'10" frame whispered softly.

A gentle drum roll beat in her head, she knew she shouldnt' be out here. She had already been warned that if she were to summon the ancients, she would be punished. But they had called to her.

The thunder rumbled softly in the sky, it seemed to merge with the beat of drums in her head. She began to quietly chant.

Her chants must not of been quiet, as she began to circle the fire, dancing faster, more erradic.


I was brought back to reality when one of the elders, garbed with feathers in their hair and stern looks on their faces, had
doused the fire.

I fell to the floor. The energy had left me. I looked up, my look savage and upset.

One of the guardsmen hauled me over his shoulder. The tall warrior easily led the group to the outskirts of our village. The wigwams and their tufts of smoke becoming smaller and smaller.

"You decide to go against wishes. Now you must leave. The ancient arts are gone, you bring nothing but trouble. The old ways are done, gone. Now you leave. Do not come back."
The old man told her , his face void of emotion.

So there I was, given nothing to take but my spirit, my body, and my staff.

I began to walk through the forest, unable to figure out where I was going, but only knowing it is where I should go.

Days and Days I walked, washing in streams, crossing towns where I wasn't wanted. No money, no work, broken english.

I kept walking, and I couldn't help but feel as though I was walking for a reason.

I felt this evilness coming from the east. So I walked to the east.

That is when I came upon the spiritual ground. What the white man calls grave yard. The graves were open, footprints leading my way. The ancients told me to follow.

So I did.

 

[Guest]

Herbert:

Throwing himself up onto the back of a heavy horse, Herbert shot the rope binding it to the stables apart. The horse which was already spooked by the scent of the walking dead in the air reared up and bolted. Herbert was screaming as he rode the horse out toward the exit of town, screaming like a mad man as he plowed through anything and everything in his path, wholey unconcerned with anything but escape.

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

Suddenly stopped short by the raven haired beauty that walked slowly into town, her eyes wide with life. Herbert looked down at her, his madness suddenly banished. He drew a sharp breath. "The dream! You're from the dream!" He said in surprise. "The indian girl!"

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Statler

"...Guh-yup..."
I knew the voice, vaguely, but it was distant. i tried to ignore it, the whiskey still haunting me, but in a new way now.
Hangover, and what looked to be a bad one at that.
"...Giddup..."
Again, that voice. I stirred, though only a ta, then settled back.
A hand struck my face then, and I raised my head almost as if in reflex.
"What the...?"
I fought my eyes open, thinking, I paid for the room and the whore, and damnit, I intend...
"Get up!"
Jesus! SHe wouldn't even let me finish my thoughts.
"What? What's going on?"
I sat up, my head throbbing suddenly. I raised a hand to it.
"Don't you hear the sheriff down there?"
Sheriff? Not my favorite word, not at all.
"The who? What's going on? I didn't--"
I heard shots then, followed by some distant yelling that I realized then had been there the whole time, just outside of my attention.
"What the...?"
I got up and hurried to the window, glancing out to see what looked like several drunks wandering through the center of town toward the saloon and the sheriff and a few others firing weapons at them. Woah, i thought, good thing I'm not a rowdy drunk. Last night could have been Hell.
I turned to the whore. "Where're my clothes."
SHe pointed to them, piled on the floor near my guns. I hurriedly dressed, listening to the sounds outside as things quickly began to sound worse. At one point, I heard what could only have been dynamite. Geez, these people kind of overdue it when it comes to drunks, don't they? Once dressed, I strapped on my gun belt, one gun on each side, each ready to be drawn with my right hand, one straight-drawn and the other cross-drawn. Then I strapped the third to my left thigh, so as to straight-draw it with my left.
That done, I grabbed my hat, placed it on my head, and said, "Thanx for the good time, Ma'am."
I was heading down the steps a moment later.
Within seconds, I was out in the street, seeing that what I guessed had been drunks were in fact...what...that couldn't be. Could it?
I drew a pistol with my right hand and looked around, feeling a hand groping at my back. I turned, aimed at what had done it and thought, Jesus! The living dead!
Before I could fire, the zombie was thrown aside by a horse. The sheriff was on its back, driving through the walking sorpses toward the edge of town. I follwed his lead n foot, trying to take advantage of the path the horse left where the zombies had clustered together, often to feast on those who'd already been killed and were laying in the street.
He lost me quickly, however, and I ran instead over to the saloon, where I saw another man. I stopped in front of him nd said, "What the Hell's going on?"
"The dream! You're from the dream! The indian girl!"
I glanced back to see the sheriff, staring at a lovely young indian girl, and thought, All I wanted was a hooker and some whiskey...I picked the wrong town...

 

[Ravenloft]

Herbert:

Herbert stared down at the indian girl almost in disbelief. He'd never seen the likes of her before outside his dreams, but he knew her, and he knew what she was here to do... Just then, a Zombie threw itself at her back. Herbert shouted a warning and leveled his shot gun but something beyond his understanding happened then... The moment the Zombie touched her... It fell limp, and was nothing more than a half rotted corpes. He stared in amasement at it and then back at the indian girl...

 

[PmTick]

Tyler secured his mask over his face before walking outside and empting his six shooters into a couple Zombies. He turned to Alex and said, "Alright, which one of the men over there has the stench of evil of them."

 

[Valdimer]

Good ol' Walt


Walt sat at the bar, taking another shot of the whiskey bottle. Barely paying attention to the events outside, Walt corked the bottle, and made his way for the saloon door. "Damn younguns...Look at the lot o ya! They dont deserve to die I tell ya!" he screamed, watching as bullets flew, and zombie after zombie fell to the ground, only to slowly and sluggishly return to thier feet, or what was left of them. Walt made his way to the door, and pushed his way past to two men firing for thier lives....

"Need a horse, need ta get outta this here town....yep." Walt said, making his way to the stables, the zombies, whenever one were in his way, slowly moved, allowing Walt to pass. Reaching the stables, he grabbed the only riding animal that was left, a mule. "Yep, ol bessie, looks like its me and you..." he said, taking another pull from the bottle. Corking it agian, he reached for one of many saddles, and drunkinly strapped it onto the mule. Finally achieving that, he hopped on. Giving the mule a slite jab to the sides, he shoved off, and made his way outside of town, in the direction the sheriff went...........

 

[starkweather]

The zombie slashed and slashed at Johns chest and thraot, he felt like he was going to die. So John did the only thing he could do at a time like this...he prayed. As he oprayed the words of a dying man a white light dedcended from heaven and trew the zombie off of him, then the light went to the two other zombies approching, and shatterd them into pieces. " What in Gods name was that" John said. with out wasting another minute John got up from off the ground, he saw chaos everywhre. So John ran to the nearst alley way to reload his gun, as he was doing so he saw dead man lying in the alley, John said a silent prayewr for the man, and then took his gun and loaded it as well. Now set with a goal John emerged from the alley and saw a old man walk towards the stables, how someone just leave ata time like this John thought, forgeting the old man, John cried out "CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR" John liked this part of his faith, the part where you killed any undead thing that moved. So John fired away gunds blazing, yelling between shots and realshing the glory of evil recving justice from his own hands.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Statler

The old guy walked past us, but I barely noticed until I saw him headed for the stables. As he went, the zombies stepped casually aside and let him pass. Unbelieveable.
Those around us were reaching out and trying to rip us to pieces, or eat us alive. I turned to the two men standing nearby and asked, "What the Hell is going on?!"
Just then, one of the zombies grabbed me from behind, causing me to jerk forward suddenly. I turned, grabbed it by the rotting shirt and threw it to the ground, firing a round into its skull.
Yep, that should do it, I thought. I stepped away, looking aorund at the other zombies and thinking, okay, who's next. I took aim at another and fired a round into its chest. It staggered backward a few steps from the impact, chunks of flesh splattering out its back and onto the sand, then it staggered forward again as if I'd never even fired.
Shit, I thought, looking to my pistol in amazement. Must be a shot to the head that does the trick. I took aim at its head, pulled back the hammer. Just then, the one I'd already shot in the head got back to its feet, the top half of its head missing entirely, brain and blood dripping down its body from the shot.
I stepped backward, still unbelieving, then glanced toward the stables, thinking, I need to go with the old Coot, he seems to be having better luck with these things than the guys are here.
I didn't dare though, not with as many zombies as were gathering in the street now. I saw at least fifty of them, but some were overlapping, making it hard to see how many were behind them. From where I stood, there could have been hundreds hiding behind those closest to me. We needed to get inside.