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Description

“I'm just a dancer, looking for a partner

Someone who knows how to ride without ever falling off

Gotta be compatible

Take me to my limits!

Girl, when I break you off

I promise that you won't want to get off…!

If you're horny, let's do it!

Ride it, my pony!

My saddle's waiting

Come and jump on it…!

Sitting here flossing, peeping your stylo

Just once if I have the chance

The things I would do to you…!

You and your body - every single portion

Send chills up and down your spine

Juices flowing down your thighs…!

If we're gonna get nasty, baby

First we'll show and tell

'Til I reach your pony-tail…

Look all over and through you, baby

Until we reach the stream

You'll be on my jockey team…”

Ginuine, ‘Pony’

www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbnoG2…



Want to see Honey’s bare breasts and shaven little pussy, courtesy of ? Yes. Yes, you do.

Unlike many of the Brimstone gals (or guys), Honey doesn’t really have a complex backstory or a deep, dark personality. She’s never really evolved much beyond the ‘sexy good-time cowgirl’ she started as. I can do her nasal drawl at the table, but that’s about it. One of my friends said: ‘she’s a bimbo, Marcy. Go with it.’ So for now, she’s a sexy good-time gal, a busty blonde thrill-seeker who doesn’t have any angst or demons or much desire beyond having a good time and living on the edge. One day maybe she’ll embrace her inner aboriginal Dreamtime shaman and become something more… (hey, it worked for Camilla!) but until then she is what she is. And she’s enormously fun to play at the table – lassoing huge monsters and riding them around the board yelling ‘Yee-Haw!’ never gets old.

Shadows of Brimstone is all about ‘those young women and their Daddy Issues’, but Honey’s take on this is a bit more twisted 😊 Nobody knows much about her past, but she’s always had a thing for older men…

The Cowboy

“Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet?
When in this charming car -
This charming man…
Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear…
The man said ‘it's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care…’
A jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place
He said ‘return the ring’
He knows so much about these things…”

The Smiths, ‘This Charming Man’

Garrett Copperstone is one of those men who just don’t stand out to look at him. Now in his mid-forties, he’s a rangy, wiry fellow of average height and weight, who likes practical rancher garb that doesn’t stick out in any way. Clean-shaven with cropped hair, he’s neither handsome nor hideous; just another face in the saloon crowd, and that’s how he likes it.

Growing up in the wake of the Civil War, his was the first generation that was mostly untouched by that divisive conflict. He came west to Texas from who knows where, there being little distinguishing tones in his accent. Still in his teens, a greenhorn, he took work as a cow-hand in the glory years of the open range, learning how to ride, shoot and fight, to steer cattle and corral herds. It was hard, physical work, a dangerous job for little pay, but he was physically fit with a wiry strength that belied his lack of bulk, and he relished the work. Here he was his own man, out in the wilds, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope played. He became a skilled outdoorsman, a quiet and perceptive man who saw much and said little. What little pay he earned, he squirrelled away, as he was a man of few vices – unusually Garret did not smoke, nor drink nor gamble. Some might have taken that to mean he was a pious, god-fearing man, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Garrett only had one vice, and he took it very seriously indeed.

When the years of the open range declined with the onset of the railyards and slaughterhouses, many of his kin were left unemployed, turning to vagrant drifters, itinerant handymen, or even outlaws. None of those appealed to Garrett, however, by now in his thirties - but he’d made some interesting contacts, and was one of the few who were lucky enough to find work at the Rodeo shows that were now becoming popular out east. Here, he put the talents he learned on the range to good use in entertainment – he was a good marksman and a fearless rider, unafraid of the wildest bucking bronco. Though a quiet, stoic man, he had a knack for physical entertainment, and could ride or roll with the best of them. He loved to take risks, to put his body on the line, and the crowd appreciated his efforts. He was also able to indulge some of his more private vices, mingling with the well-to-do crowd who shared his tastes for the exotic. By the time he quit the rodeo life, he’d saved up a decent amount of money, and set off back West to buy himself a small ranch. In the shadows of the Sierra Magallanes, in Shannedam County, he found a spot where he could rest his spurs, and worked hard to build a little home with his own hands. Before long, he had a small abode that provided for his needs, with vegetables and animals that made him self-sufficient. It was not an easy life, but as always, he relished the hard work and solitude. He also started work on building a little playroom to indulge his passions; he had to send away for some of the more esoteric items, but eventually he was very happy with all he had made for himself.

For Garrett’s passion was kinky sex; especially bondage, master/servant relationships and role-play. He had quite an imagination, plenty of free time and a decent amount of money, and he planned to enjoy his early retirement. All he really needed were playmates, those who shared his interest in whips and chains.

Women were rare enough in the West; the county seat of Brimstone was close by, but offered little opportunity for him to find broad-minded females to play with. Respectable women were always married, and the nature of town life meant that everyone knew each other’s business, leaving little room for affairs. While many young men passed through regularly, finding the fairer sex was far more difficult. Men who travelled escorting their families kept a very close eye on their wives, and even more so on their daughters. Once or twice he was lucky enough to find a freshly-mourning widow, or an independent-minded stage actress touring the frontier… but for the most part, pickings were thin. There were always whores, of course, but they weren’t willing to leave the safety of a cathouse to travel for hours to visit his little dungeon.

What Brimstone did have in numbers, however, was an endless supply of young greenhorns heading out West. Garrett slightly preferred women to men – they were softer and smelled sweeter – but he’d never had any problem finding a willing partner out on the range in his cowboy days. He knew what to look for – he knew when a young man was interested or just curious. It was more common on the frontier than most imagined; the lack of women in general made it much easier to scratch that itch with other men. And Garrett had quite the itch to scratch. Many a young tenderfoot was beguiled by the quiet fellow who bought them drinks in the saloon, and were happy enough to go back to his ranch and try out the leather straps and manacles, to see what all the fuss was about. These encounters were always willing – Garrett enjoyed playing games, not hurting others for real. He was quite the cook in fact, and his playmates all enjoyed a hearty breakfast on the front porch before they went on their way.

It was only a year or two ago, however, that all of his wishes came true all at once. A young woman, with her outlandish nasal accent, stepping off the train at Brimstone when he was there for market day. Ravishingly beautiful, fulsome of figure, and entirely unaccompanied. Garrett couldn’t believe his luck when he heard that she was looking for a place to stay, a place to work, and gallantly offered to show her around his ranch, before showing her the ropes. Quite literally.

Sometimes, things are just fated; sometimes two people who perfectly compliment the other meet and realise they are just perfect for one another. Thus it was the Cowboy found his Cowgirl.

The Cowgirl

Gwendolyn Honeywell – who goes by ‘Honey’ rather than ‘Gwen’ - came from the wild frontier herself; the wide-open spaces of Victoria County, in the British Protectorate of Australia. She knew the legends of the bushmen and jackaroos, the outlaws and bandits and the men who hunted them. She’d grown up with the legend of Ned Kelly and his famous last stand against the law: ‘like a bushfire on the horizon casting its red glow into the night.’ She’d sang the lyrics of ‘Waltzing Matilda’, the tale of how an infamous sheep-thief threw himself to his death rather than be taken alive. Something in her wanted to be a romantic outlaw, except she didn’t much care for hurting others or stealing.

In her late teens, she stowed away on a ship from Melbourne and headed to the New World. Why she ran, and what she ran from, she has never said – but if it was painful or abusive, she seems remarkably free of angst and untroubled by it. The East reminded her of the bustle of Melbourne; she cared little for the city, but learned the frontier was much like her homeland, a place of wide-open spaces, an untamed wilderness where a soul could be free and live off the land. Honey was remarkably self-sufficient - she could hunt and forage, and earned a little money working tables at saloons or on the barges. She discovered early that she greatly enjoyed sex – with women as well as men – but she didn’t want to make her fortune that way. She longed for the freedom of the wide plains, not being bored to tears in some cathouse waiting for the next client. She wanted to wear denims and leathers, not bodices and lace. And while her standards for lovers weren’t especially high, she was determined she would fuck who she wanted, not whomever was paying her.   Bred on the frontier and fiercely independent, she wanted to live her life her own way. From wherever she came, she’d learned to shoot and fight somewhere along the line, and she didn’t let anyone push her around.

She’d always had a thing for older men - those who were masterful, confident and in control. Fumbling boys could be fun, but she preferred a man who knew what he wanted. She was immediately smitten with the laconic cowboy, a man old enough to be her father. He was outwardly ordinary – forgettable, even – but there was something in his gaze, a natural dominance she responded to, something that lit her fires. She fell in love with his little ranch and the view of the mountains from his porch after she enjoyed a cooked breakfast following their fun and games.   In him, she found the father-figure she needed. In her, he found the protégé he’d always wanted. She thrilled to the new delights his chambers offered; the tightness of the restraints, the kiss of leather on her skin, even the burning brands and the whip that left her smooth skin with red welts. He taught her to respect the power of it all, too - the ‘safe words’ and the boundaries between what was a game, and what was real. She absorbed it all, and relished every moment of it.

He taught her more prosaic things too – she’d obviously grown up on a ranch and could already shoot and fight and ride, but he taught her about the New World, the wide country and its creatures and tribes. Above all, she was excellent at the rope work... there were few people who could time a knot like Garrett could, but her skill with the lariat – both in and out of erotic situations – amazed even him. She was, in short, everything he’d ever dreamed of – imaginative, enthusiastic and tireless, the perfect playmate. He generally preferred to be the dominant one - quiet, firm control came naturally to him - but he liked to mix it up sometimes, and she enjoyed the role-reversal of being in charge, where she’d wear him out and ride him raw.

Having a cute blonde partner now made it much easier for him to get young men back to his ranch, of course, and he even made a few connections with men from other towns who shared similar interests. They had quite the little carnival going – a private club where his friends could watch Honey fight other women and the loser got tied and ravished by anyone who wanted her. He’d always found that former slave women, or the daughters of slaves, were more scrappy and open-minded than white women, or even a few squaws who’d left the tribes. Even mutants, sometimes – Garrett was in no way a prejudiced man when it came to carnal pleasures. Hell, Honey was physically much stronger than she looked, and could beat most men who fancied their chances, but it was something about the cat-fighting that appealed to him. The tearing of clothes, the dirty tactics, the imposing of one girl’s strength and will upon the other. Whether ‘foxy boxing’ or in the mud pit, win or lose, his protégé always ended up the centre of attention. And she loved every moment of it.

Their twisted little paradise came to an abrupt end about two years after they met; when Brimstone burned and an explosion of the ‘Ghost Rock’ heralded the end of the world. They were away from the town when it blew, but they could see the conflagration from miles away, and Garrett had good survival instincts. Something had happened, and nothing would ever be the same. Leaving his ranch in the hands of friends he could trust, Garrett took Honey into town two days after the Night of Screams to survey the damage. He discussed it with his protege – they either sold up and headed East to safer pastures, or they stayed here and fought. He wasn’t surprised when she chose the latter without hesitation. The Sherriff was asking for deputies, those who could help the beleaguered towns against the monsters who grew bolder with each day. The cowboy and his cowgirl signed up, as much for the thrill of it as the desire to help others, and since that time, whether together or apart, they have fought side by side with others in the Posses, testing their edge against otherworldly horrors and making themselves stronger in doing so.

Honey in the Posses

The Cowgirl is a friendly, down-to-earth young woman who doesn’t seem to take anything seriously, and nothing ever gets her down. While not quite as reckless as her older lover, she’s certainly a daredevil who likes to take risks and push her luck. She is blunt-speaking and forward, as befits her Australasian heritage. More ladylike heroines see her as rather crude and crass, but others find her lack of manners refreshing. Honey is aggressively sexual in how she acts and walks, wearing revealing clothing and moving with an exaggerated swing of her full hips. She wears skimpy outfits like bikinis, or goes completely naked when she can. She’s openly suggestive to her companions of either gender, although she has a slight preference for authoritative older men like Sherriff Lafferty, Marshall Kane or Doctor Drake.

Honey is always the first to volunteer in any posse, and the last to run away. She seems to relish danger and thrive on pain and risk. While a decent shot with her Range Rifle, she prefers melee, eschewing weapons to physically beat the monsters to death with her bare hands. She makes copious use of her lariat; she’s never found a horse she couldn’t break to the saddle, or a monster that could escape her lasso. Of late, she’s taken to mounting and riding the luckless horrors like wild steeds, crashing them into walls and other monsters, all the while bellowing a hearty ‘Yee-Haw!’ Easily bored, she likes anything that seems flashy and dramatic – the wilder the plan, the better. If it fails, she just picks herself up and dusts herself down like any cowgirl would. She doesn’t seem to want anything deeper in life than to have a good time, even if that means being hip-deep in tentacled monsters. She lives life for the moment, her past forgotten, her future unknown… and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Who knew the end of the world would be so much fun?

Honey was part of the Blasted Wastes expedition, and has developed a guardedly-friendly relationship with both Becky Youngerman and Rachael Radford, both of whom don’t know quite what to make of her. While Marshall Kane and Alex McBride keep her at a distance – she’s tempting, certainly, but they are loyal types – she’s developed a very odd relationship with Doctor Drake, ending in a situation that surprised both of them. She feels oddly tender in his company, unlikely as that seems to both of them, and while she doesn’t know how long this fling can last, she’s determined to make the most of it. As to the Blasted Wastes itself, she’s loving the weirdness of it all, the alien strip-bars and naked bare-back lizard-riding and dune buggies. Her ambition is to lasso and ride one of the great Sand Krakens, the most feared creatures of the Wastes. She’s spent a few rounds in the gladiator arena, and she’s given an open challenge to Becky to fight her in mud-wrestling – an invitation the other young woman has thus far refused.

Honey as a character

A mid-level Hero, Honey makes for a good all-rounder. Like all Cowboy-class characters, she is mid-range complexity to play – it’s a risk/reward class, that either tends to succeed spectacularly or fall flat on its face. She can mix it up in melee using powerful punches or snipe at range. Her talents assure a good flow of Grit to power her Range Rifle or ‘Take A Swing’ power. She has very high Strength, which is required to make the best use of her Lasso and rope monsters. She has a good Agility, an average Luck and everything else is above average. She hasa high Max Grit and her attacks, Health, Sanity and defences are all balanced.

Her ’Fisticuffs’ tree allows her to unleash some devastating unarmed attacks with a good flow of Grit, and she can shoot and fight at the same time. Her ‘Show-Off’ tree aids in using her Lasso, further helping her gain XP and Grit when she uses it, and she can use it twice per battle instead of once. Perhaps surprisingly, the Lasso doesn’t require Hands to use, so she can freely employ her Range Rifle while roping monsters.

Her Gear mostly enhances her physical attacks, or her toughness. Her Followers Hat aids her when she keeps her Initiative low, and also gives a subtle nod to her preferred nature as a ‘submissive’ in her bondage games.

Gwendolyn Honeywell

Cowgirl                                            (Keywords: Frontier, Showman)



Agility 4                           Level: 5               Defence    4+

Cunning              3                           XP: 3670             Willpower          4+

Spirit 3

Strength             6 (7) Initiative    4 (3)

Lore 3                           Health 20 (21) (+1)

Luck 2                           Sanity 20



Combat               3 Ranged ‘to hit’   4+

Max. Grit 4 (5) Melee ‘to hit’    4+

Abilities

Rough Rider: At the start of each Turn (or Day in Town), if you have no Grit, Recover 1 Grit on the d6 roll of 4+

Happy Trails: Once per Travel, may spend 1 Grit to cancel a Travel Hazard on the d6 roll of 3+ (before any tests are made for that Travel Hazard)

Daredevil: You are +2 Move. All of your Attacks on adjacent Large size (or bigger) Enemies are +1 Damage.

Trick Shooting: Use 1 Grit when you cause a Hit with a Gun, to immediately cause an additional d3 other Enemies in a continuous chain, starting adjacent to the target, to also take a single hit from that Gun.

Watchman: You always Activate before Enemies at your Initiative level. Also, all Heroes in your Posse gain +2 Initiative during the first turn of an Ambush Attack.

Upgrades

Take A Swing: Once per turn, use 1 Grit to make a Melee Attack using your basic Combat (no Items) in addition to your normal Ranged Attack.

Bar Fight Vet: +1 Combat, +1 Strength, +1 Move

Sucker Punch: Once per turn, use 1 Grit to use your Strength value (instead of rolling) as Damage for a Combat Hit. +1 Max Grit

Fancy Roping: Any time you Rope an Enemy with the Lasso, gain 10 XP, and Recover a Grit on the d6 roll of 4+

+1 Initiative

Fast Return: You may now use the Lasso up to twice per Fight, but only one Enemy may be Roped at a time.

+1 Agility

Upgrade Bonuses

+1 Agility. Also, gain +d6 Sanity (5)

+1 Max Grit

+1 Strength

+1 Spirit. Also, gain +d6 Health/Sanity (any mix; +2/+1)

+1 Spirit. Also, gain +d6 Health/Sanity (any mix; +3/+2)

Starting Items, Gear and Artefacts (Weight 4/12)

Roughskin Gloves (Personal, Clothing – Gloves) +1 Strength. Once per Turn, may Re-roll one Melee To Hit roll.

Rider’s Rifle (Gear, Gun, Rifle) Range 10, Shots 1, 2 Hands, Weight 1, Upgrades 2, $400

Use 1 Grit to gain +d3 Shots (once per Attack)

Bandana (Gear, Clothing – Face) $50, Once per turn, you may Re-roll an Escape test.

Lasso (Gear, Rope) Limit 1, Cowboy only. Once per Fight, at any time choose an Enemy within Range 5 and Line of Sight to ‘Rope’ with the Lasso. While Roped, that Enemy may not move and is -1 Combat and -1 Defence. At the start of each of that Enemy’s Activations, make a Strength 5+ test to keep it Roped (6+ if Large, 6+ with 2 successes if Extra-Large or bigger). Enemies with an ability that lets them move through other models automatically break free. If passed, the Enemy remains Roped. If failed, it is released.

Rope (Gear, Rope) $125 Once per turn, you may roll 2 extra dice for a Skill test. After each use, breaks on the d6 roll of 1 or 2 (discard)

Expedition Boots (Gear, Clothing – Boots) Weight 1, Upgrades 1, $450

Once per Adventure, you may cancel and re-draw a Threat or Encounter card.

Rawhide Chaps (Gear, Clothing – Pants) Weight 1, Upgrades 1, $250. Frontier Heroes only

+1 Health, +1 Move

Follower’s Hat (Gear, Clothing – Hat) -1 Initiative. Weight 1, $150

You are +1 Damage on all Attacks against targets with a higher Initiative. A Henchman Ally with this Item equipped may roll 3 dice and discard the lowest when rolling on the Henchman Exploration Chart.

Description

“I'm just a dancer, looking for a partner

Someone who knows how to ride without ever falling off

Gotta be compatible

Take me to my limits!

Girl, when I break you off

I promise that you won't want to get off…!

If you're horny, let's do it!

Ride it, my pony!

My saddle's waiting

Come and jump on it…!

Sitting here flossing, peeping your stylo

Just once if I have the chance

The things I would do to you…!

You and your body - every single portion

Send chills up and down your spine

Juices flowing down your thighs…!

If we're gonna get nasty, baby

First we'll show and tell

'Til I reach your pony-tail…

Look all over and through you, baby

Until we reach the stream

You'll be on my jockey team…”

Ginuine, ‘Pony’

www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbnoG2…



Want to see Honey’s bare breasts and shaven little pussy, courtesy of ? Yes. Yes, you do.

Unlike many of the Brimstone gals (or guys), Honey doesn’t really have a complex backstory or a deep, dark personality. She’s never really evolved much beyond the ‘sexy good-time cowgirl’ she started as. I can do her nasal drawl at the table, but that’s about it. One of my friends said: ‘she’s a bimbo, Marcy. Go with it.’ So for now, she’s a sexy good-time gal, a busty blonde thrill-seeker who doesn’t have any angst or demons or much desire beyond having a good time and living on the edge. One day maybe she’ll embrace her inner aboriginal Dreamtime shaman and become something more… (hey, it worked for Camilla!) but until then she is what she is. And she’s enormously fun to play at the table – lassoing huge monsters and riding them around the board yelling ‘Yee-Haw!’ never gets old.

Shadows of Brimstone is all about ‘those young women and their Daddy Issues’, but Honey’s take on this is a bit more twisted 😊 Nobody knows much about her past, but she’s always had a thing for older men…

The Cowboy

“Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet?
When in this charming car -
This charming man…
Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear…
The man said ‘it's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care…’
A jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place
He said ‘return the ring’
He knows so much about these things…”

The Smiths, ‘This Charming Man’

Garrett Copperstone is one of those men who just don’t stand out to look at him. Now in his mid-forties, he’s a rangy, wiry fellow of average height and weight, who likes practical rancher garb that doesn’t stick out in any way. Clean-shaven with cropped hair, he’s neither handsome nor hideous; just another face in the saloon crowd, and that’s how he likes it.

Growing up in the wake of the Civil War, his was the first generation that was mostly untouched by that divisive conflict. He came west to Texas from who knows where, there being little distinguishing tones in his accent. Still in his teens, a greenhorn, he took work as a cow-hand in the glory years of the open range, learning how to ride, shoot and fight, to steer cattle and corral herds. It was hard, physical work, a dangerous job for little pay, but he was physically fit with a wiry strength that belied his lack of bulk, and he relished the work. Here he was his own man, out in the wilds, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope played. He became a skilled outdoorsman, a quiet and perceptive man who saw much and said little. What little pay he earned, he squirrelled away, as he was a man of few vices – unusually Garret did not smoke, nor drink nor gamble. Some might have taken that to mean he was a pious, god-fearing man, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Garrett only had one vice, and he took it very seriously indeed.

When the years of the open range declined with the onset of the railyards and slaughterhouses, many of his kin were left unemployed, turning to vagrant drifters, itinerant handymen, or even outlaws. None of those appealed to Garrett, however, by now in his thirties - but he’d made some interesting contacts, and was one of the few who were lucky enough to find work at the Rodeo shows that were now becoming popular out east. Here, he put the talents he learned on the range to good use in entertainment – he was a good marksman and a fearless rider, unafraid of the wildest bucking bronco. Though a quiet, stoic man, he had a knack for physical entertainment, and could ride or roll with the best of them. He loved to take risks, to put his body on the line, and the crowd appreciated his efforts. He was also able to indulge some of his more private vices, mingling with the well-to-do crowd who shared his tastes for the exotic. By the time he quit the rodeo life, he’d saved up a decent amount of money, and set off back West to buy himself a small ranch. In the shadows of the Sierra Magallanes, in Shannedam County, he found a spot where he could rest his spurs, and worked hard to build a little home with his own hands. Before long, he had a small abode that provided for his needs, with vegetables and animals that made him self-sufficient. It was not an easy life, but as always, he relished the hard work and solitude. He also started work on building a little playroom to indulge his passions; he had to send away for some of the more esoteric items, but eventually he was very happy with all he had made for himself.

For Garrett’s passion was kinky sex; especially bondage, master/servant relationships and role-play. He had quite an imagination, plenty of free time and a decent amount of money, and he planned to enjoy his early retirement. All he really needed were playmates, those who shared his interest in whips and chains.

Women were rare enough in the West; the county seat of Brimstone was close by, but offered little opportunity for him to find broad-minded females to play with. Respectable women were always married, and the nature of town life meant that everyone knew each other’s business, leaving little room for affairs. While many young men passed through regularly, finding the fairer sex was far more difficult. Men who travelled escorting their families kept a very close eye on their wives, and even more so on their daughters. Once or twice he was lucky enough to find a freshly-mourning widow, or an independent-minded stage actress touring the frontier… but for the most part, pickings were thin. There were always whores, of course, but they weren’t willing to leave the safety of a cathouse to travel for hours to visit his little dungeon.

What Brimstone did have in numbers, however, was an endless supply of young greenhorns heading out West. Garrett slightly preferred women to men – they were softer and smelled sweeter – but he’d never had any problem finding a willing partner out on the range in his cowboy days. He knew what to look for – he knew when a young man was interested or just curious. It was more common on the frontier than most imagined; the lack of women in general made it much easier to scratch that itch with other men. And Garrett had quite the itch to scratch. Many a young tenderfoot was beguiled by the quiet fellow who bought them drinks in the saloon, and were happy enough to go back to his ranch and try out the leather straps and manacles, to see what all the fuss was about. These encounters were always willing – Garrett enjoyed playing games, not hurting others for real. He was quite the cook in fact, and his playmates all enjoyed a hearty breakfast on the front porch before they went on their way.

It was only a year or two ago, however, that all of his wishes came true all at once. A young woman, with her outlandish nasal accent, stepping off the train at Brimstone when he was there for market day. Ravishingly beautiful, fulsome of figure, and entirely unaccompanied. Garrett couldn’t believe his luck when he heard that she was looking for a place to stay, a place to work, and gallantly offered to show her around his ranch, before showing her the ropes. Quite literally.

Sometimes, things are just fated; sometimes two people who perfectly compliment the other meet and realise they are just perfect for one another. Thus it was the Cowboy found his Cowgirl.

The Cowgirl

Gwendolyn Honeywell – who goes by ‘Honey’ rather than ‘Gwen’ - came from the wild frontier herself; the wide-open spaces of Victoria County, in the British Protectorate of Australia. She knew the legends of the bushmen and jackaroos, the outlaws and bandits and the men who hunted them. She’d grown up with the legend of Ned Kelly and his famous last stand against the law: ‘like a bushfire on the horizon casting its red glow into the night.’ She’d sang the lyrics of ‘Waltzing Matilda’, the tale of how an infamous sheep-thief threw himself to his death rather than be taken alive. Something in her wanted to be a romantic outlaw, except she didn’t much care for hurting others or stealing.

In her late teens, she stowed away on a ship from Melbourne and headed to the New World. Why she ran, and what she ran from, she has never said – but if it was painful or abusive, she seems remarkably free of angst and untroubled by it. The East reminded her of the bustle of Melbourne; she cared little for the city, but learned the frontier was much like her homeland, a place of wide-open spaces, an untamed wilderness where a soul could be free and live off the land. Honey was remarkably self-sufficient - she could hunt and forage, and earned a little money working tables at saloons or on the barges. She discovered early that she greatly enjoyed sex – with women as well as men – but she didn’t want to make her fortune that way. She longed for the freedom of the wide plains, not being bored to tears in some cathouse waiting for the next client. She wanted to wear denims and leathers, not bodices and lace. And while her standards for lovers weren’t especially high, she was determined she would fuck who she wanted, not whomever was paying her.   Bred on the frontier and fiercely independent, she wanted to live her life her own way. From wherever she came, she’d learned to shoot and fight somewhere along the line, and she didn’t let anyone push her around.

She’d always had a thing for older men - those who were masterful, confident and in control. Fumbling boys could be fun, but she preferred a man who knew what he wanted. She was immediately smitten with the laconic cowboy, a man old enough to be her father. He was outwardly ordinary – forgettable, even – but there was something in his gaze, a natural dominance she responded to, something that lit her fires. She fell in love with his little ranch and the view of the mountains from his porch after she enjoyed a cooked breakfast following their fun and games.   In him, she found the father-figure she needed. In her, he found the protégé he’d always wanted. She thrilled to the new delights his chambers offered; the tightness of the restraints, the kiss of leather on her skin, even the burning brands and the whip that left her smooth skin with red welts. He taught her to respect the power of it all, too - the ‘safe words’ and the boundaries between what was a game, and what was real. She absorbed it all, and relished every moment of it.

He taught her more prosaic things too – she’d obviously grown up on a ranch and could already shoot and fight and ride, but he taught her about the New World, the wide country and its creatures and tribes. Above all, she was excellent at the rope work... there were few people who could time a knot like Garrett could, but her skill with the lariat – both in and out of erotic situations – amazed even him. She was, in short, everything he’d ever dreamed of – imaginative, enthusiastic and tireless, the perfect playmate. He generally preferred to be the dominant one - quiet, firm control came naturally to him - but he liked to mix it up sometimes, and she enjoyed the role-reversal of being in charge, where she’d wear him out and ride him raw.

Having a cute blonde partner now made it much easier for him to get young men back to his ranch, of course, and he even made a few connections with men from other towns who shared similar interests. They had quite the little carnival going – a private club where his friends could watch Honey fight other women and the loser got tied and ravished by anyone who wanted her. He’d always found that former slave women, or the daughters of slaves, were more scrappy and open-minded than white women, or even a few squaws who’d left the tribes. Even mutants, sometimes – Garrett was in no way a prejudiced man when it came to carnal pleasures. Hell, Honey was physically much stronger than she looked, and could beat most men who fancied their chances, but it was something about the cat-fighting that appealed to him. The tearing of clothes, the dirty tactics, the imposing of one girl’s strength and will upon the other. Whether ‘foxy boxing’ or in the mud pit, win or lose, his protégé always ended up the centre of attention. And she loved every moment of it.

Their twisted little paradise came to an abrupt end about two years after they met; when Brimstone burned and an explosion of the ‘Ghost Rock’ heralded the end of the world. They were away from the town when it blew, but they could see the conflagration from miles away, and Garrett had good survival instincts. Something had happened, and nothing would ever be the same. Leaving his ranch in the hands of friends he could trust, Garrett took Honey into town two days after the Night of Screams to survey the damage. He discussed it with his protege – they either sold up and headed East to safer pastures, or they stayed here and fought. He wasn’t surprised when she chose the latter without hesitation. The Sherriff was asking for deputies, those who could help the beleaguered towns against the monsters who grew bolder with each day. The cowboy and his cowgirl signed up, as much for the thrill of it as the desire to help others, and since that time, whether together or apart, they have fought side by side with others in the Posses, testing their edge against otherworldly horrors and making themselves stronger in doing so.

Honey in the Posses

The Cowgirl is a friendly, down-to-earth young woman who doesn’t seem to take anything seriously, and nothing ever gets her down. While not quite as reckless as her older lover, she’s certainly a daredevil who likes to take risks and push her luck. She is blunt-speaking and forward, as befits her Australasian heritage. More ladylike heroines see her as rather crude and crass, but others find her lack of manners refreshing. Honey is aggressively sexual in how she acts and walks, wearing revealing clothing and moving with an exaggerated swing of her full hips. She wears skimpy outfits like bikinis, or goes completely naked when she can. She’s openly suggestive to her companions of either gender, although she has a slight preference for authoritative older men like Sherriff Lafferty, Marshall Kane or Doctor Drake.

Honey is always the first to volunteer in any posse, and the last to run away. She seems to relish danger and thrive on pain and risk. While a decent shot with her Range Rifle, she prefers melee, eschewing weapons to physically beat the monsters to death with her bare hands. She makes copious use of her lariat; she’s never found a horse she couldn’t break to the saddle, or a monster that could escape her lasso. Of late, she’s taken to mounting and riding the luckless horrors like wild steeds, crashing them into walls and other monsters, all the while bellowing a hearty ‘Yee-Haw!’ Easily bored, she likes anything that seems flashy and dramatic – the wilder the plan, the better. If it fails, she just picks herself up and dusts herself down like any cowgirl would. She doesn’t seem to want anything deeper in life than to have a good time, even if that means being hip-deep in tentacled monsters. She lives life for the moment, her past forgotten, her future unknown… and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Who knew the end of the world would be so much fun?

Honey was part of the Blasted Wastes expedition, and has developed a guardedly-friendly relationship with both Becky Youngerman and Rachael Radford, both of whom don’t know quite what to make of her. While Marshall Kane and Alex McBride keep her at a distance – she’s tempting, certainly, but they are loyal types – she’s developed a very odd relationship with Doctor Drake, ending in a situation that surprised both of them. She feels oddly tender in his company, unlikely as that seems to both of them, and while she doesn’t know how long this fling can last, she’s determined to make the most of it. As to the Blasted Wastes itself, she’s loving the weirdness of it all, the alien strip-bars and naked bare-back lizard-riding and dune buggies. Her ambition is to lasso and ride one of the great Sand Krakens, the most feared creatures of the Wastes. She’s spent a few rounds in the gladiator arena, and she’s given an open challenge to Becky to fight her in mud-wrestling – an invitation the other young woman has thus far refused.

Honey as a character

A mid-level Hero, Honey makes for a good all-rounder. Like all Cowboy-class characters, she is mid-range complexity to play – it’s a risk/reward class, that either tends to succeed spectacularly or fall flat on its face. She can mix it up in melee using powerful punches or snipe at range. Her talents assure a good flow of Grit to power her Range Rifle or ‘Take A Swing’ power. She has very high Strength, which is required to make the best use of her Lasso and rope monsters. She has a good Agility, an average Luck and everything else is above average. She hasa high Max Grit and her attacks, Health, Sanity and defences are all balanced.

Her ’Fisticuffs’ tree allows her to unleash some devastating unarmed attacks with a good flow of Grit, and she can shoot and fight at the same time. Her ‘Show-Off’ tree aids in using her Lasso, further helping her gain XP and Grit when she uses it, and she can use it twice per battle instead of once. Perhaps surprisingly, the Lasso doesn’t require Hands to use, so she can freely employ her Range Rifle while roping monsters.

Her Gear mostly enhances her physical attacks, or her toughness. Her Followers Hat aids her when she keeps her Initiative low, and also gives a subtle nod to her preferred nature as a ‘submissive’ in her bondage games.

Gwendolyn Honeywell

Cowgirl                                            (Keywords: Frontier, Showman)



Agility 4                           Level: 5               Defence    4+

Cunning              3                           XP: 3670             Willpower          4+

Spirit 3

Strength             6 (7) Initiative    4 (3)

Lore 3                           Health 20 (21) (+1)

Luck 2                           Sanity 20



Combat               3 Ranged ‘to hit’   4+

Max. Grit 4 (5) Melee ‘to hit’    4+

Abilities

Rough Rider: At the start of each Turn (or Day in Town), if you have no Grit, Recover 1 Grit on the d6 roll of 4+

Happy Trails: Once per Travel, may spend 1 Grit to cancel a Travel Hazard on the d6 roll of 3+ (before any tests are made for that Travel Hazard)

Daredevil: You are +2 Move. All of your Attacks on adjacent Large size (or bigger) Enemies are +1 Damage.

Trick Shooting: Use 1 Grit when you cause a Hit with a Gun, to immediately cause an additional d3 other Enemies in a continuous chain, starting adjacent to the target, to also take a single hit from that Gun.

Watchman: You always Activate before Enemies at your Initiative level. Also, all Heroes in your Posse gain +2 Initiative during the first turn of an Ambush Attack.

Upgrades

Take A Swing: Once per turn, use 1 Grit to make a Melee Attack using your basic Combat (no Items) in addition to your normal Ranged Attack.

Bar Fight Vet: +1 Combat, +1 Strength, +1 Move

Sucker Punch: Once per turn, use 1 Grit to use your Strength value (instead of rolling) as Damage for a Combat Hit. +1 Max Grit

Fancy Roping: Any time you Rope an Enemy with the Lasso, gain 10 XP, and Recover a Grit on the d6 roll of 4+

+1 Initiative

Fast Return: You may now use the Lasso up to twice per Fight, but only one Enemy may be Roped at a time.

+1 Agility

Upgrade Bonuses

+1 Agility. Also, gain +d6 Sanity (5)

+1 Max Grit

+1 Strength

+1 Spirit. Also, gain +d6 Health/Sanity (any mix; +2/+1)

+1 Spirit. Also, gain +d6 Health/Sanity (any mix; +3/+2)

Starting Items, Gear and Artefacts (Weight 4/12)

Roughskin Gloves (Personal, Clothing – Gloves) +1 Strength. Once per Turn, may Re-roll one Melee To Hit roll.

Rider’s Rifle (Gear, Gun, Rifle) Range 10, Shots 1, 2 Hands, Weight 1, Upgrades 2, $400

Use 1 Grit to gain +d3 Shots (once per Attack)

Bandana (Gear, Clothing – Face) $50, Once per turn, you may Re-roll an Escape test.

Lasso (Gear, Rope) Limit 1, Cowboy only. Once per Fight, at any time choose an Enemy within Range 5 and Line of Sight to ‘Rope’ with the Lasso. While Roped, that Enemy may not move and is -1 Combat and -1 Defence. At the start of each of that Enemy’s Activations, make a Strength 5+ test to keep it Roped (6+ if Large, 6+ with 2 successes if Extra-Large or bigger). Enemies with an ability that lets them move through other models automatically break free. If passed, the Enemy remains Roped. If failed, it is released.

Rope (Gear, Rope) $125 Once per turn, you may roll 2 extra dice for a Skill test. After each use, breaks on the d6 roll of 1 or 2 (discard)

Expedition Boots (Gear, Clothing – Boots) Weight 1, Upgrades 1, $450

Once per Adventure, you may cancel and re-draw a Threat or Encounter card.

Rawhide Chaps (Gear, Clothing – Pants) Weight 1, Upgrades 1, $250. Frontier Heroes only

+1 Health, +1 Move

Follower’s Hat (Gear, Clothing – Hat) -1 Initiative. Weight 1, $150

You are +1 Damage on all Attacks against targets with a higher Initiative. A Henchman Ally with this Item equipped may roll 3 dice and discard the lowest when rolling on the Henchman Exploration Chart.