ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5
HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1
With the cold of early morning seeping into his bones, Malakai rustles himself up and begins to quietly gather his gear. He does his best to put aside any worry about whether he'll walk away from the next hours event or not. That was all in Fate's hands at this point. If he'd wanted to avoid all this he should've kept to his own business back at the train. Most folk would've just road away at the sound of gunfire. But runnin' from a fight, just wasn't in his blood. He didn't relish killing. Not after the war. Youthful blood lust had long since been drained from his soul onto the fields and hills of Georgia, Tennessee and Virginia.
But some men never lost that desire to bring pain and death into the world. Never tired of takin' from others. Davy and his bunch were those kind of men. And as far as Malakai was concerned nothing stops men like that except other men who were willin' to say a hard no usually with a bullet or length of rope. Today Malakai and his partners were the ones who were going to stand their ground against Davy or die tryin'.
After checking his rifle one last time, Malakai gathers his share of the dynamite from Mickey and sets out once again for the ridge over looking the bandit camp.
Stealth (10)
Demolitions (10)