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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Silver Moon" data-source="post: 2192455" data-attributes="member: 8530">About an hour ago in my western PBP campaign.  I'm the DM but was also playing an NPC (a dwarf prospector named Flint) who is an ally of the PC's.   Here's the post:Professional football is still a decade away, as it will be 1892 when the Allegheny Athletic Association decides to start a professional team in Pittsburgh, but Flint's toss of the three bundled sticks of dynamite would have made any future football coach proud. Having moved out into the open to clear the potential obstacles posed by the saplings, the bundle sails high into the air and lands perfectly right inside the still burning campfire near three men with rifles. The men caught the sudden movement with their peripheral vision and knew that something landed into the fire, but none of them managed to see exactly what. So instead of running they just changed targets, turning to shoot at Flint rather than the wall. But only one of the three managed to get his retargeted shot off before the dynamite exploded, and that shot sailed harmlessly above Flint's head. The tremendous explosion that follows covers the entire area with debris, including flaming embers, coals and red-hot rocks from the fire circle. The man closest to the fire is killed instantly. The second is mortally wounded. The third is shielded from the brunt of the blast by his soon-to-be-dead companion, and none of his wounds would have killed him except for the fact that his shirt catches fire. A combination of gunpowder residue and dried alcohol on his shirt cause it to immediately combust. He panics, so rather than dropping and rolling to put the fire out he instead turns and runs away from the farmhouse and towards the distant hills. He will eventually manage to get nearly sixty feet away before the flames fatally overtake him.</blockquote>

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