Ten of Clubs: 'Dogs of War'
"Here's how this is gonna go. You give us your slugtosser, and we won't kill ya!" The small group of braggarts laughed amongst themselves as they surrounded the lone man in the middle of the road, their horses clopping on the occasional stone.
The usual, almost predictable sinister voice curled into his skull. Do it. Unleash my power as you have done before.
"I don't think that's how this is going to turn out, boys." His tar-like growl made the group pause. "If you turn about and leave now, we can forget this ever happened. But if you don't... Well, you don't want to know."
"Pfft, yeah right. What're you, the Black Joker? Even if you are, we ain't scared of you!" The one in front of him was clearly the leader, dressed slightly better and holding an actual Smythe. He had to admit, not bad for a small band of idiotic highwaymen.
With a resigned sigh, he slowly slid the black, single-barrelled shotgun off his back and into his waiting hands, the ten clubs etched into the top gleaming in the noon sun. "You're not that far off, son. Just don't say I didn't warn ya."
Racking the Card in his hands, the howl of a hunting pack rang across the desert, causing the braggarts to swivel their heads in a panic as he took a deep breath. "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!"
His first shot turned the torso of the leader's horse into a chunky salsa, along with the bastard's legs. Pivoting, he fired twice more and annihilated another horse's head, the highwayman atop it disappearing from the waist up.
Yes... More. I know you crave more, and with each one taken, the pack grows stronger.
Three more shots, and the band of highwaymen was reduced to half of their number, quickly riding away into the distance as they screamed their fear to the sky and dirt.
"Serves them right." With a shake of his head, he moved quickly, grabbing the meager handfuls of ammunition and rations he could and stuffing his pockets to the brim with dead men's money.
You did warn them. Now, however, the pack can finally feast on fresh meat, after six days of your pitiful excuse for food!
Letting himself exhale, he turned away from the carnage before him, raising the Ten of Clubs into the air and firing twice. "Good. Eat up, and eat whatever you can. It's going to be a rough few days."
Tilting his head back, he grinned as jet-black wolves prowled out of the shadows cast from the noon sun, shouting to the sky. "Ding Dong! DING DONG! Lunch Is Served! Come And GET IT!"
Falling to his knees, the gentleman lowered his head, looking at the gleaming shotgun. "You're no longer just a sinister craving, are you? You've grown into something much worse. From eager and hungry pups..."
In a trance, he slowly loaded shell after shell into the breach. "Into the horrific Dogs of War you are now."
|Spades:||2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - J - Q - K - A|
|Hearts:||2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - J - Q - K - A|
|Clubs:||2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - J - Q - K - A|
|Diamonds:||2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - J - Q - K - A|
|Jokers:||Red Joker - Black Joker|
| Introduction - The World - Gameplay - Stories of the world |
On the Attainment, Ownership and Passing of The Cards
Variant Rule: Hands