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Deacons Big Game Hunt


(Deacon's big game hunt)

[Thu Nov 30 2023]

In The Forest

It is night, about 48F(8C) degrees, and the sky is covered by grey clouds. Ankle high mist flows through the area. There is a waning gibbous moon.

Deacon says "Eh? "
Deacon says "Yeah, I'm the one who spotted the sumbitch. "
Deacon says "I'm stalkin' it now ..."
Deacon seems to recognize Martin vaugely, but he's currently creeping through the trees and eyes are laser focused ahead of him. The only thing the cajun man is missing is one of those ghillie suits and night-vision mask.

Martin treads into the area without much care put into how much noise he might be making, he does reach into a headset too, speaking before he flashes a smile to Deacon and starts to inspect his crossbow, seeming content to just let the man scan.

Martin says "Good evening, Harry! I am currently in the process of hunting some big ... thing."
"Flatterer," Tomas grunts over Martin's way, flexing an arm - he's a big thing, alright. "Deacon, this is Martin Lowe. He was our best Keeper. Now he runs with the Order. He's a friend, but he's competition, too."

Without looking from the scope of his rifle, Deacon moves one hand to point at Jett. "Who's that" comes a quiet, Cajun drawl.

Tomas says "That's Carson. One of our remainin' keepers."
Deacon says "Fall in!"
Jett drags himself along, shivering as he moves, but he seems dressed up for a fight. For the most part. "Hey," he greets everyone at large.

Deacon says "Oh shit"
"This flatterer feels truly flattered right now, Inigo," Martin provides genuinely to Tomas along with a big smile, loading a bolt into his modern compound crossbow, "Let's get this bread."

Deacon says "That's a big fuckin' doggo, boys!"
Martin says "We're just gonna kill it, simple!"
Crouching down, Deacon signals his sights on the large, over-sized wolf and he takes a shot at the thing straight off, while the others can catch up their distance. "I think we'll do fine!"

Having dropped into a combat stance a little earlier than was strictly wise, Tomas comes sprinting along and firing off a series of harrying arrows, cutting off an oversized wolf's avenues of movement in his approach. "This is near where Little John went down, too. Big ass wolf, huh?"

Deacon continues to lay down covering pepper shots, the too-loud report of his Barrett rifle cracking through the night and the woods like the sound of a car back-firing right in everyone's ear.

Deacon swaps to his blade, letting his rifle swing around behind his back.

Tomas says "Someone back me up in the frontline."
Deacon says "In place."
Martin runs closer to the wolf recklessly, aims down his ACOG sight, fires a bolt with a whizz then starts backpedaling right back off, loading his crossbow as he quickly walks backwards. He fires another shot, then, repeats the process, "Moment."

Deacon says, with a grunt, "Damn, hits as hard as you do, Inigo!"
Martin says "That was SO underwhelming."
"Don't take the hits for me, Deac, I can heal better," Tomas grunts, whipping out his falcata with horrifying force that cleaves into the wolf's shoulder. Then - well, it's dead. "Damn," he says. "I thought we were here for more than that."

"Following up on your, Tomas," Jett drones out after sending a stray arrow forward at the clawed beast that closes the distance. When it falls he halts any intention to rush forward, simply slumping around now that the battle is over.

Deacon says "Target! "
Deacon says "Everybody chill a second .."
Deacon says "Alright. I ain't cuttin' it open. "
Martin says "Not in a butchery mood, either."
Deacon probably suggests this refusal because his skill ain't shit.