When you have seen the eye of the storm #RPG #Deadlands

Dear Friends, we are gathered here together to share in the Grace of the Lord. Today I want to speak to you of his grace and terror. Terror is a real and terrible feeling, for I have seen the depths of terror and horror, and it was only through his grace that I survived.

I was not always the humble Man of God you see before you today. When I was young I was a sinner. I grew up in the hardscrabble hills of Arkansas. My Daddy left us when I was but a young child. My Ma did what she could to keep us fed and clothed. And by that I mean she did anything she could, for us young children. Some would call her a sinner, and she was. But her heart was in the right place.

I first experienced terror soon after Daddy left us. A man was visiting our farm. And I was awoken by the screams of my mother. I went to her room, trembling with fear at what I would find that caused my mother such pain. When I opened the door that man stepped out, picked me up by the scruff of my neck and stuck a knife in my face. He swore that if I ever spoke of this to anyone he would return and make sure we all paid, and then drew a line in blood across my face, leaving this scar you see today.

I came of age when the war began. And it was not long after that the first raiders came to our farm. I was barely old enough to hold up my Daddy’s rifle when I tried to stop them. But I failed, and I felt terror again as I lay weeping from a blow from one of the raiders, watching as my home burned, with the screams of my Mommy echoing in my ears.

I vowed to use that terror, turn it into a weapon. I found a friendly group of raiders and joined them. And I became a terror to my enemies. I also became a great sinner. Killing, raping, drinking, no sin was too great for me. My name became synonymous with hatred and fear, even those I claimed to protect feared me. 

And then, on one of our most horrific raids I experienced the greatest terror of my life. We had captured some runaway slaves and some soldiers. And we had what we thought was a fun night with them. Visiting horrific injuries and abuse on them. And then the next morning, in the cold dawn, my victims awoke and came for me. That is right, in his wisdom the Lord chose to use my victims as his tools. The dead arose, and took me and my fellow raiders, and strung us up, and inflicted all kinds of horrors upon us. It truly was the most horrific and terrible thing that I had ever experienced.

And then, in the depths of my misery, I prayed again, at first out of habit, and then in earnest. I told the Lord that I knew that I was a sinner, I had killed, swore, raped, and drank. And I truly deserved this punishment. And in that moment, I felt the Hand of God. He came to me and granted me a truly terrible and awesome gift. I was given a new birth, born again in the eyes of the Lord. 

And now I come before you today, spreading the word of his Grace. And urge you to accept his salvation. For without that, this is truly a world of Terror we live in. 

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Watching the World burn #RPG #Deadlands

Luciano heard them coming down the hallway. His questioners, jailers, those who would see him locked away forever. They swore that this was the last time, never again would he be allowed out, no chance to see the sun. And for sure never be allowed to work with his precious materials.

Somehow he knew that this time would be just like the others. Another site would be found. Another foe who needed a convenient accident. Some area of a city needing to be cleaned out. They always came asking for his special talents. Especially in these days of chaos and fear. With so few managing to do what he did as well as he did.

Who else could have taken down a 5 story hotel in the middle of the day with so little damage to the surrounding area? Who else could bore a hole through a granite mountain is such a short time? Who else could create those fine bullets that ripped through the automatons of Deseret? 

The greatest minds were always surrounded by those who questioned their methods. But would be celebrated for the results. 

They had seemed especially upset this last time. He had explained that he was never told to avoid casualties. They had just asked him to clear out the shanty town, and make it look natural and accidental. Perhaps the firestorm that he created had been a little too intense this time. Or a little too thorough. But they should have told him to leave a way out, to have left a way in for the futile attempts to douse the fire. It really was not his fault that he had done what was asked. That shanty town was completely empty now, and no one would want to move back in anytime soon, not with the area still full of smoking holes.

He wondered who would come to him this time. He swore that he would be contrite, accept their deals, show true sadness for those useless, er poor people. And yes, of course, this time, he would show more consideration for witnesses, er innocent bystanders.

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Exciting news, maybe get out from behind the screen #RPG #Deadlands

Rupert looked up from his breakfast meal. He wasn’t sure what had got his attention. But he was glad he had looked up. Because he was able to take a moment between bites to marvel once again at the magnificent vista before him. This truly was the most beautiful land he had ever laid eyes on, and it still put the hook in him, years after first coming west. 

He could remember that first real look like it was yesterday. He had run away from the group home in Saint Louis where he spent his childhood. Always big for his age, he had been able to convince the army recruiter that he was 18, even though he was only 16. He was issued his uniform and rifle and shipped out west on a train car. They pulled into the station when it was just dawning, and he would never forget the sight of the mountains turning pink in the early rays of morning sun. He had been struck dumb by the beauty of it.

He got a dressing down by the Corporal for that, not the last one he got in his time in the army. He was an indifferent soldier at best, prone to day dreaming when he should have been performing his duties. So no one was upset when he parted terms with the army after his enlistment term was up. 

He took his last pay and bonus, bought some supplies and took the first job he could that would help him get into the mountains. After that he spent a year or two (time got away from you out in the wilderness) trekking in the mountains. Making just enough from trapping, hunting and occasionally tracking to buy supplies that he couldn’t make for himself and to help him get through the cold times. 

Now he spent his time mostly alone, living in a simple cabin he had made, in his beloved mountains. There had been rumors of more people coming into this territory. Maybe even trying to claim the land, as if anyone could claim to own this land. That angered him, which was unusual given how slow he was to anger.

He still wasn’t sure what had shifted his attention but something made him get up and look around. Maybe it was time for a trip into town, no particular reason for it, just an itch in the back of his neck. The kind of itch he had learned to listen to over the years, it had saved his neck more than a few times.

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