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Lock, Stock & Barrel - Guns of Aldoria



a part of Lock, Stock & Barrel - Guns of Aldoria, by Screwface Romeo.

Welcome to Memphis! Population: 67- 6

Screwface Romeo holds sovereignty over Memphis, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

270 readers have been here.


A small frontier town on the edge of the Eastern Badlands, under Lawman Protection.


Sheriff Cena Johnson

Judge Augustus Silverman


Protected by The Lawmen, associate member of the Pan-Aldorian Commerce League.

Economic Mainstay

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Welcome to Memphis! Population: 67- 6


Memphis is a part of Aldoria.

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Character Portrait: Jason Davis
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Memphis, 15:00 Hours, July 20th - 887

The sun beat down over the desert, the heat descending in great waves of suffocating force as a single motorcycle roared across the flats, trailing a great cloud of dust behind it. The bike sputtered and coughed, spitting out gouts of black smoke which drifted and commingled with the dust as it crested a rise and speed down towards the town below.

The bike slowed as it entered the town, purring and sputtering as it traversed the dirt roads, weaving in-between houses on its way toward the broad street that constituted the center of town. Coming to rest by a hitching post, the little engine coughed and died as the rider swung stiffly off, wiping the thickly caked dust from his sunglasses and shaking like a wet dog to dislodge the sand from his clothes. He unzipped the top of his jacket, and pulled down the bandana that covered his mouth and nose, spitting into the dirt as he worked the gloves off his hands and tucked them into his pocket. Reaching into his saddlebags, he pulled out a heavy chain and lashed the bike to the hitching post, then, shifting the battered rifle slung over his back, he pulled the water and gas cans off the bike and headed for the general store.

The store was almost deserted. There were one or two people milling about in the aisles, and three sitting at one of the tables in the corner, eating something that looked like chicken but probably wasn't. The store manager, looking extremely bored, was wiping down a lever action rifle behind the counter. The man from the desert walked up to the counter and set his cans down with a clank.

"Can I help you?" The manager said, setting the rifle down on a buckskin cloth and turning to face him.

"Jason Davis, Marshal. I need clean water and unleaded fuel. Also, three boxes of .280 Borchart and a trigger job on my carbine, if you do that sort of thing"

"Fuel and water I can do. .280 Borchart too. Lemme see the gun"

Jason unslung the rifle and handed it over the counter.

"Trigger's been getting creepy. Doesn't break cleanly, like it used to" he explained. The manager removed the magazine and cleared the rifle, then pulled back the bolt and inspected the bore.

"You'll need a new trigger. The tangs get worn down on these sometimes, it's a common problem on wasteland-made guns. That's gunna cost you. And it'll take time"

"Money is not a problem. Lawmen will cover it. I assume you have an outpost here? Give me a receipt and I'll stop by and tell them to pay you. Time is an issue, though. I'm in pursuit of a dangerous fugitive. How long will it take?"

"Don't bother, I'll give the Sheriff the bill myself. We get our share of Lawmen out here. As for your trigger... eh, shouldn't be more than a day. I've got a gunsmith who makes these carbines, he should be able to turn one out for ya, if he ain't drunk or asleep. The inn down the way boards Lawmen for free. You can get a room there, and I'll send my boy to get you when the gun's ready. You can pick up your other supplies then too"

"Alright. I guess it'll have to do... Thank you, sir"

Jason straightened up, and turned to leave.


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Character Portrait: Daichi Nagasaki
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((Oh wait, I just realized this RP is PG-13. Well, crap. I just dropped some F bombs.))

Memphis, 15:05, July 20th - 887

The strong aroma of whiskey slowly filled the small backroom as Daichi quickly glanced down at the two cards he held in his left hand.

"Raise, three hundred." Daichi stated, sliding a medium sized stack of Poker Chips forwards as the bearded man across from his nervously downed a shot of whiskey, only to pick up the large bottle to his right and fill the shot glass back up again.

"You're bluffin'. You've gotta be." The bearded man mumbled as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and he took yet another shot of whiskey. "Alright.. i'll.. i'll call." The man said, sliding the stack of Poker Chips forwards.

Daichi smirked and quickly slapped his two queens down on the table, A Four-of-a-Kind. The man across from remained completely silent, his eyes wide and his fingers tightly gripping the two cars he held in his hand.

"You.. you cheating son of A bitch!" The man yelled, quickly throwing his cards on the ground, sliding his chair away from the table and standing up.

"Aw, come on now Tyler, pick up your cards and sit back down. I'll buy you some candy or something once we finish this, everyone likes candy, right?" Daichi responded, trying to not laugh at the mans amusing outburst.

"Shut up you sissy faced cunt!" The man yelled, slowly reaching for his holstered magnum, drawing it and then pointing it at Daichi.

Daichi's eyes quickly narrowed as he scanned the man from head to toe, remaining silent for a few moments before erupting with laughter. "Oh..Heh..HAHAHAHA! HAHA! Oh.. man.. HAHA! Heh.. Ehh.. Okay.. what.. are you going to shoot me or something? HAHA!"

"..Yeah! That's exactly what i'm going to do! Just because your one of those.. things doesn't mean I can't put a hole between your eyes! Now stand up and start heading outside! I don't want get blood all over these walls!" The man yelled, the laughing outburst making him extremely nervous.

"...Right.. okay. You never where too bright." Daichi mumbled, quickly sliding out of his chair and standing up.

The man quickly took a few steps backwards as Daichi stood up."D-D-Don't do anything stupid! Just walk out the back door and keep your hands away from that pistol!"

Daichi let out a quick sigh and began to take a few steps towards the back door, he then slowly turned around and took one last quick look at the man. "..This fucking guy.." Daichi thought, hastily drawing Trigger and firing one shot straight into the mans forehead and then immediately holstering it. It was over in less than a second. ((Just for reference it looks like this, just without the hammer pulling and with a much bigger gun. 0:10 ))

"God damn it Tyler! Look what you've done! There's brain matter all over the wall! Whose going to clean this mess up now!? If you didn't get drunk and decide to pull out your damn pea shooter this whole situation would of been avoided! Sure I might of cheated a little bit but you didn't have to go and draw your damn gun!" Daichi screamed, slowly drawing his gun, pulling the empty shell out of his revolver, loading a new one in and then looking down at the mangled mess that was now the mans face as his lifeless body slowly slid down the wall that he was standing in front of.

((That will work. Just to clarify this was in the back room of the Saloon in Memphis. Oh, and I hope you don't mind me kind of spawning an NPC in.))


2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daichi Nagasaki Character Portrait: Cena Johnson
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#, as written by Falron

Memphis, 15:00 Hours July 20 - 887

The sound of the motorbike came to a smooth close outside the Sheriff's outpost, the woman who sat astride it quickly swinging off and securing the vehicle to the hitching post. Shoving her hands in her pockets, the Sheriff stepped up onto the balcony before the building and walked into the room, the door to her office closed, her name painted onto the glass. The few holding cells were blissfully empty, a testament to the current peace within Memphis.

Cena lifted the hat from her head, opening the door to her office and casually throwing the hat onto a nearby chair before taking her seat behind her desk, eyes scanning over the paperwork. She took advantage of the temporary peace in the building to set about going through some of the forms that littered her usually tidy desk. She let a small smile twist her features as the pen scratched across the page, so absorbed in getting the job done that she didn't hear the door to the building open. Moments later the door to her office crashed open, her deputy leaning against the door frame, breathing heavily.

Cena jumped, the pen ripping through the paper. Her head lifted slowly to glare at her deputy who quickly began to speak, "Sorry to interrupt you Sheriff, but there's been a gun shot behind the Saloon."

She was on her feet in an instant, picking up Prometheus who had been leaning against the wall behind her. "Alright, let's go."

As she passed her deputy she clapped him on the shoulder before jogging out of the building. Unshackling the bike she quickly mounted it, kicking the engine to life before speeding down the streets, hands tightening on the handlebars. Nobody messed with the law in her town and got away with it. As the Saloon came into sight the motorbike skidding to a halt before the building, its rider cutting the engine unceremoniously.

Pulling the gun over her shoulder she quickly checked the magazine before pumping the gun, raising the shotgun to her shoulder as she signaled her deputy to go around the side of the building as she stalked forth, noting the few people inside the saloon hiding under tables, the man behind the bar having a gun pointed at the door, seemingly on the verge of going back there himself to sort things out. His eyes flicked towards the Sheriff as she entered, motioning silently towards the door in which the gunshot had come from.

Cena's eyes narrowed as she walked forth, her jaw clenched as she braced herself, grip tightening on the gun before she kicked down the door, watching the wood splinter under the force of her foot. She had to admit, there were some serious upsides to being a Gunslinger.

The sight that greeted her made her stomach churn momentarily before she ran in, swinging around to face the killer who was calmly reloading his weapon. His victim lay slumped against the wall, the face pulverized. Blood covered the wall behind the corpse, the hand still clutching a gun.

Cena glared at the man before her, "Lower your weapon and put your hands in the air!"


2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daichi Nagasaki Character Portrait: Cena Johnson
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((I'm not sure if there's an actually posting order here, but if there is then i'm completely destroying it right now because i'm too impatient to wait for Screwface. Sorry.))

Daichi remained completely still as the door in front of him was promptly kicked down and guns where immediately pointed at him. "Well, at least they're fast." He thought, trying to figure out exactly what he should do since the orders the female just barked at him made absolutely no sense.

"Are you new to this or something? How exactly am I supposed to lower my weapon while putting my hands in the air? How is that even possible? Like, you don't how weird this situation is for me right now, I have no idea what i'm supposed to do. Did you mean to tell me to drop my weapon? Because if that's the case then i'm afraid I can't do that. However, I have no intention of firing any more bullets today and that man drew his weapon and was pointing it at me with deadly intent. That was completely legal. Also, whose going to repair that door now? Did you think about the poor guy whose has to repair that door? That was a beautiful door! You could of just slammed it open and then started barking orders at me! It wasn't even locked or anything." Daichi responded, inhaling an extremely large breath of air as he finally finished his monologue.

"Wait! One last thing! You're pretty attractive, Sheriff. Would you mind going out with me? I don't really know what there is to do in this town, but I suppose any place would work, right? Okay, there. Now i'm done. You can continue yelling." He asked, taking a good long look at the Sheriff's breasts, well at least in that general area, they where kind of covered by lots of clothes and a bullet proof vest after all.

Daichi continued to stand completely still, awaiting more orders, his gun still facing towards the ground, as he had just finished changing out a shell before the Sheriff burst through the door.

((An extremely short post filled with questions and not much else, sorry. I'm not really sure what I could possibly do to expand this with more detail since my character is currently kind of stuck.))


3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daichi Nagasaki Character Portrait: Jason Davis Character Portrait: Cena Johnson
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"Have a nice..." The manager started, only to be interrupted by a gunshot. Jason pricked up instantly, and ran for the door, thumbing the strap on his holster and drawing the Paladin as he went. Skidding to a halt outside the store, he scanned the street. There, a saloon across from him, the source of the gunshot. And, according to his ESP, two medium-level auras that could only belong to Gunslingers.

He trotted across the street, and stopped alongside the door to the saloon. There was a Deputy there, holding a levergun grimly.

"Sheriff's in there. Some asshole got shot, from the sound of it... Sir" The deputy drawled, nodding his head through the door at the back room.

"Thank you. I'm going to assist" Jason said, and strode through the main hall, propping himself alongside the door to the back room. Steeling himself, he snapped off the Paladin's safety, and stepped around the splintered remains of the door.

There were two people in the room, three if you counted the corpse that was currently repainting the floor a nice shade of red. One, a woman who was obviously the Sheriff, was leveling a shotgun at the other. Judging by it's aura, this was clearly her signature. The other... man? was talking very fast and still holding his gun, a very large revolver. Jason narrowed his eyes, and raised the Paladin.

"Marshal Davis, Lawmen. Allow me to clarify; set the cannon on the floor, kick it over to me, and put your hands behind your head. In that order, nice and slow" he barked, placing his finger inside the trigger guard. "Now, joker, or I'll vent your head" Jason pulled the trigger gently, letting the hammer click into half-cock.

Above Memphis, 15:07 Hours July 20 - 887

Dust particles floated softly through the cabin, glowing briefly as they drifted through the shafts of light emerging from the gaps between the slats of the vent. The soldier swallowed, shifting his gunbelt and wiping his brow as he stepped through the door. Across the small metal room, directly beneath the vent, was the Black Rider. He sat cross legged, long hands dangling between his knees, hat pulled low over his face. He was perfectly still, not even his clothes moving. A fly landed on one of his fingers, crawling along the glove, then took off and buzzed out the vent. The Black Rider seemed to suck the life out of the room, his tattered black leather duster so dark that it practically absorbed the light. The only light about him was the faint silver glow that peeked out between the cracks and tears in his gloves and sleeves, and the gleam of the delicate silver patterns inlaid in the black ivory grips of his revolvers, barely visible amidst the blackness of his shirt and vest.

Suddenly, the soldier felt terrified, as though his life was being sucked straight out of him, into that terrible blackness. He considered turning around, fleeing, throwing himself from the side of the airship. Anything, even death, was better than remaining in that eerie, silent, empty room with the Black Rider. Then the Rider raised his head.

His face was dead, blueish white, with silver and black tracings, like veins, creeping up from beneath his collar and twining up his neck to stop along the edges of his vistage. His beard and eyebrows were jet black, and his eyes were sunken beneath a heavy, craggy brow. His lips parted slowly, as a single, pristine white cigarette emerged from the depths of his duster, and settled itself onto his lower lip, bursting to life as he closed his mouth around it. He sucked deeply, the ember glowing brightly, and allowed a whiff of smoke to exit his nose as he opened his eyes. They were entirely silver, without a trace of white or black in them, and shone like tiny moons, gazing directly through the soldier’s soul.

All thought of running, or hiding, or suicide suddenly disappeared from the man’s mind. In that instant, all the soldier wanted was to do exactly what the Black Rider wanted.

“You have something to tell me” The Rider rumbled. It was not a question, but a statement.

“We have arrived. Sir. The airshi..” The soldier said, abruptly, without thinking.

“Is within sight of the town. I know” The Rider stood up, slowly rising to his full height until he towered over the soldier “you can go now”

The soldier turned on his heels and left. As he exited the Rider’s gaze, all of the terror he had felt before came flooding back, and he ran headlong down the hall, boots clicking on the floor like a frenzied typewriter, until he reached the bridge. He stood there, outside the door, shaking, and swearing that he’d get off this hell-ship at the next damn port. He didn’t even want his pay anymore.


The black airship emerged from the depths of the duststorm, bearing down on the unsuspecting town like a great stormcloud. Her funnels belched fumes and smoke which drifting along her sides, obscuring the cabin from view, but a keen observer would notice the lines of firing ports, and the long, black barrels of bombardment cannon that lined the ship’s flanks. She flew no flag, but the skeleton lashed to the bow, sandblasted clean by the storm and dressed in the tattered clothes of a Lawman Sheriff, was all the flag she needed.

Deep in the ship’s belly, the deck swarmed with activity as men slid down ladders, pulled open lockers and removed weapons from them. They strapped on bulletproof vests, crammed helmets and wide brimmed hats over their heads, draped themselves in dusters and jackets and cloaks, tattered and torn by the desert. They wore sunglasses, goggles, even simple glare masks made by cutting slits in a piece of plastic, anything to protect their eyes from the sand and sun. Their weapons were of every make, model and year conceivable. Men jammed shells into the tubes of lever action rifles, while others beside them rocked magazines into battered Kalashnikovs. They carried pistols, rifles, shotguns and mare’s legs.

As the ship drifted over the town, they surged towards the edges of the bay like a great flood of black and brown, seizing the ropes that fell from the ceiling and dropping down through the deck, towards the town below, yelling and crowing like madmen released from the asylum.


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Character Portrait: Drust Arthfael
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Memphis, 15:00 Hours, July 20th - 887

Light poured into a small room, illuminating the pair lying in bed. Various articles of clothing littered the floor and a sword sat propped in the corner. Drust had awoken almost an hour ago, but he chose to remain still. He enjoyed the feeling of a woman lying next to him, even if she was just a call girl. However, he wasn't in Memphis on a pleasure trip. He was there for business. Reluctantly, he lifted the girls arm and she stirred awake.

"Leaving so soon, sweety?" Her voice was as sweet as honey, and she gave Drust an almost sad look. He had seen it before. Just a business practice.

"Yep," he responded in a low voice. "I have things to do and people to see." Throwing the blanket off, Drust crawled onto the floor and stood up, stretching his arms, almost touching the ceiling. The wood felt warm on his bare feet. The girl sat up, trying to look genuinely sad. She was obviously new at this. Drust began gathering his clothes.

"But won't you come back to see me?" She asked as she began redressing.

"I'm sure I'll be back sometime," Drust responded as he pulled his green pants up. "Now, why don't you run along? Maybe order me some food?" After locating his bag, he retrieved some money and handed it to the girl, who had already gotten redressed.

With a wink, she said, "Will do, hun." After planting a soft kiss on his cheek, she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her.

With a sigh, he held his shirt out in front of him. The image of a skull with a crown for a lower jaw stared back at him. The giant X across it didn't diminish the mix of feelings he got when he looked at it. It was a reminder of where he came from. Dismissing his thoughts, he threw the shirt over his head and finished getting dressed.

Feeling renewed, Drust threw his dreads back and adjusted the goggles sitting on his forehead, then slung his scimitar across his back. Making sure it was in a comfortable position, he reached back, gripping the pommel of his blade. Satisfied, he retrieved Wild Card from inside his backpack and strapped his gun onto his hip.

Making his way downstairs, he was greeted by the low roar of men and woman looking to have a good time. Spotting his girl at a table with a steak waiting for him, he worked his way towards her. A few men were talking to her trying to buy her time. As Drust approached, one of the men looked at him, noticing his eyes and smile, and backed away. The others looked as well, and had similar reactions. As he took his seat, the girl started to say something when someone shouted, "There's an airship over the town! People are dropping out of it! Ya'll gotta see this!" The girl stood and ran for the window to look.

Scratching the scar on his cheek, Drust sighed and took a large bite out his steak. Downing a glass of water, he stood and made for the door, lowering his goggles to shield his eyes from the bright light. Everyone was crowding the windows and he had some trouble getting outside, but when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks. Overhead was a huge airship coming out of a dust storm. He couldn't make out any flag signifying it's allegiances, but he knew it was bad when he saw people coming down on ropes. Turning around, he shouted, "Everyone stay inside! Everyone who has a weapon, be ready to fight. Those who don't may want to take cover." With that, he started running towards the sheriff's office.


3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daichi Nagasaki Character Portrait: Jason Davis Character Portrait: Ein Glassville
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Daichi Nagasaki

Daichi followed behind the lawman as he walked out of the back room and headed out of the front door. The Lawman immediately began opening fire and downed a few bandits. Daichi then immediately turned and casually strolled back into the saloon, walking up to one of the tables situated around the bar area and sitting down on top of it, he then placed the small revolver he held in his left hand on the table and began digging through the pockets of his duster.

Bullets immediately began to tear holes through the walls of the Saloon as the gunfight erupted from outside. "Now.. where did I put that.. Ah!" Daichi thought, finally pulling out a small paper bag out of one of his pockets and dumping a muffin out of the bag as bullets whizzed by his head.

Daichi quickly pulled his facemask down, picked the muffin up off of the table, opened his mouth and began raising the muffin towards it, just as he was about to take a bite out of the muffin a bullet ripped through it, entered his jaw, completely shattered his jaw bone and then came out the other side, turning the muffin into dust and his jaw into mush.

"Eghh!" Was all Daichi could get out as blood gushed all over the table he was sitting on and his jaw crunched as the bone began to reform and his skin regrew.

He then spit out a large mouthful of blood, raised his hand up to his jaw and slowly popped it back into place, pulling his facemask back up, picking the small revolver up off the table, and then began sprinting towards the front door of the saloon

Coincidentally, the man on the motorbike came by just before Daichi burst through the front door and fired the erm.. Stun.. rocket.. thing at a large group of bandits and Daichi was greeted with a large cloud of dust and a bunch of disoriented bandits.

((I'm going to assume that there's a medium sized squad of bandits that are standing somewhere out in front of the Saloon, raining down bullets like mobsters with tommy guns and are now stunned with the rocket.. thing.. blast. Since I don't the geography of this town and where bandit's are actually spread out.))

It appeared as if things weren't as bad as Daichi initially thought since there was just a lot of dust in the air and a bunch of bandits standing around like they had just been hit with a sting grenade. Nevertheless Daichi fired two quick shots from the small pistol he held in his left hand at the nearest bandit, hitting him in his left leg and one of his hands, causing him to drop the bolt action rifle he was holding. Daichi then holstered trigger which he had held in his right hand and drew a Karambit with that same hand.

Daichi then sprinted towards the screaming bandit that he just shot and quickly slid the blade of the Karambit under the bandits armpit, slicing the bandits tendons in his armpit and using the Karambit's claw like blade to pull the bandit upwards and then towards himself, attempting to use the bandit as a human shield.

The effects of the stun rocket began to quickly wear off as the rest of the squad of bandits took aim and opened fire towards Daichi, hitting the bandit that Daichi was using as a human shield in several places as spraying blood all over the sand.

((By this point i'm pretty sure Jason would be firing at the bandits too if he hadn't started already.. So i'm just going to assume there's like six or seven bandits really close to us.. so i'll just take out three or four and assume you take out the rest in your next post. Then there's also Ein.. who might be shooting them as well. ))

Daichi then returned fire with the small revolver, hitting one bandit directly in the head and then firing three more shots at another bandit, missing that bandit with one shot and then hitting him in the shoulder and the chest with the other two. Daichi attempted to fire one more time but was met with a click so he threw the empty revolver to the ground and ripped the Karambit out of the lifeless bandits body and pushed him to the ground. Somehow the bandit which he had shot twice was still standing and taking aim to fire, so Daichi simply drew trigger and fired one shot into the Bandit's forehead, causing the bandit's head to practically explode, sending bits of brain and bone in every direction.

Before Daichi could take in the beautiful site that was pink mist a Bandit towards his left fired four shots from a pistol at Daichi with every single one of the bullets hitting him in the chest.

Daichi dived to the right as blood gushed out the various holes along his chest, he hit the ground face first and then rolled on onto his back, aiming at the bandit who was continuing to fire in his direction.

Daichi then rapidly fired four shots at the bandits chest, tearing a huge gaping hole into the bandits chest and causing him to be blasted backwards a few feet. With the Bandit now gone Daichi slowly looked down at his chest that was continuing to gush blood. "My.. my... MY DUSTER! HE RUINED MY GOD DAMN DUSTER!" Daichi screamed, quickly standing up off the ground and pulling up his shirt, letting the bullets that where just pushed out of his body fall to the ground.

((Eh, I don't have much time to grammar check.. so i'm just going to post this now. I have to go do some school work.))