The Quick and the Dead Opening Credits
Grolm 9, 578
about 7:00 p.m.
Definitely not the voice of Barry Campbell:
It's time for the party to decide which of those two brandin' irons they're going to be claim.
When the SNAFU Posse pulls up to Arjory Pond, smog drips like wax over features of the landscape. It turns everything a tarnished gold color in the fading light of Grolm ninth.
The plants on the shores of the pond toss about as if caught in a wind y'all cannot sense. Is this because you are bringing a Will-Bound druid into a dryad's terrain? Are the reeds and shrubs here particularly reactive to some kind of power struggle going on inside Jesse Devonshire?
A cacophony of clicks and groans and scraping noises could have been trees at war!
When the caravan passes through the innermost ring of shivering tulip trees, the barrage on their ears turns out to be a shouted argument between two dryads.
The Naiad of Arjory Pond was barely twice the height of the tallest rider in the SNAFU Posse when first y'all came here.
Was that an illusion?
Because right now, that 'un is easily thirty-five feet tall.
Probably weighs a good forty-six hundred pounds.
Is looming quite a bit over the comparatively delicate seven feet of shrub-haired half-fiend dryad.
Scaevola Aemula does her fair share of the hollerin'!
Whatever the fine grist of their exchange is lost on the SNAFU Posse:
only Jesse Devonshire understands Kayam
and, well, the Posse has concerns about who might hear through the druid's ears just now.
only Jesse Devonshire understands Kayam
and, well, the Posse has concerns about who might hear through the druid's ears just now.
Some of it has to do with ranges that lie past the darkening horizon.
A bit of it mebbe touches on Mr. Frederico Bianchi,
the three wagons and five teams of cart pullin' critters that he must have brought here.
the three wagons and five teams of cart pullin' critters that he must have brought here.
For sure, the argument touches on Arjory Pond itself! More than just a bit, at that!
Mr. Bianchi sits quiet and small in the reeds to the east.
He whispers soothin' nothings to a wide-eyed mare so she won't draw attention from either dryad.
He whispers soothin' nothings to a wide-eyed mare so she won't draw attention from either dryad.
Chica Alston stares at the taller figure.
"I ain't never seen the Naiad in such a rage," she whispers.
"Makes you see why the early settlers wrote her up in their surveys as a goddess, don't it?"
"I ain't never seen the Naiad in such a rage," she whispers.
"Makes you see why the early settlers wrote her up in their surveys as a goddess, don't it?"
"You said it true,"
Miss Melinda Naknirore whispers back.
Miss Melinda Naknirore whispers back.
The thrashing plants all stand up utterly straight as if pulled by a magnet.
Both dryads whip around to stare directly at the tiny Pisky.
What they wear just now is something no one would call "a friendly expression".
Miss Melinda looks pinned to the spot, like a live butterfly stapled to a collector's display board.
Is it me, or is violence fixing to crystalize right out of the air?
Starring:
- Bruthazmus and the SNAFU Guild!
- A furious ranch hand supervisor!
- The absent inventor!
- A twisted tree!
- The Naiad of Arjory Pond!
not to mention
- Three sickly refugees from the Bicchieri Caravan!
- An angry livery owner!
- Trouble on the Hoof!
- Sheepsquatch!
- Blood-sucking Cabbages!
- Thorny Spite!
Remember to keep an eye peeled for signs of
One Dangerous Outsider
Time to let the GM know that you are ready to start the reel!
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