Roland kept a wary watch on the Robot, as it occasionally asked for command input. Best to leave that task to Eddie, he thought. Not much sense in messing with the works of the long dead ancient people. Gods they might have seemed, once, with their mastery over everything they touched, but little of what they had left behind seemed the work of naught other than shortsighted men consumed by their own insane genius.
After a time, the rest of the gunslinger's ka-tet came back to the ambush place, having left the priest in a place of safety to recover.
The hulking form of Andy continued to erratically emit a request for command, and in the excitement, Eddie seemed to have forgotten that which the Father had told him concerning its shutdown. "Shall we see if the way of the gun will end it then, sai?" asked Jake.
Roland nodded, doubting guns would see an end to this task, but often wisdom came unexpected from the young. "Remember the faces of your fathers, gunslingers" cried Roland, remembering back ten centuries to his own training.
As one the ka-tet recited the creed, as they took aim:
I do not aim with my hand;
He who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I aim with my eye.
I do not shoot with my hand;
He who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I shoot with my mind.
I do not kill with my gun;
He who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.
I kill with my heart.
And as one, they fired, each aiming for some spot upon which their eyes, their minds and their hearts agreed. And as one they inflicted a terrible vengeance upon the robot. A death sentence carried out in the name of children from a hundred generations fed to the wolves by Andy.
As the ringing in their ears began to fade, Andy's final function began. "Warning! Critical power systems failure. Shutdown imminent!" screeched the alarm from the robot. The ka-tet turned and walked away, leaving the robot to screech its warnings and shut down slowly, much as they had Shardik back in the woods which Eddie still thought of as Shardik's woods.
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After they had walked out of range of the screeching alarms of Andy's countdown to his final sleep, the ka-tet broke out in cheers. A hard fought victory warranted a little celebration, and Roland joined in with them, smiling as we all do sometimes when we have been surprised by happiness.
I would have you see them like this, constant player. I would have you seem them very well. Will you? They are clustered around Susannah and her Cruisin Trike, embracing in the aftermath of victory. I would have you see them this way not because they have won a great battle - they know better than that, every one of them - but because now they are ka-tet for the last time. The story of their fellowship ends here, on this dirt road near an empty field of little import; the rest of the tale will be short and brutal comparred to all that's come before. Because when ka-tet breaks, the end always comes quickly. Say Sorry. (With much borrowed from Stephen King for this paragraph)
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Jack Andolini, dead twice from worlds which were not strictly speaking real, watched them celebrate from ambush. This Jack Andolini had been recruited out of the prime world, the world of the rose, and he had only one thing on his mind. The woman who had killed him, some other him but him just the same, would perish this night. He had never been a man of great foresight or thought, and so Jack gave no though to his own safety. Jack's companion; however, was considerably more cunning and forward thinking.
Andolini sprang forth in ambush, his revolver emptied into the chest of Susannah Dean before even Roland could react. A moment later and the guns were done speaking. Susannah Dean lay dead upon the road, victim to a man she had killed once and whom Eddie had now killed twice. Eddie fell to his knees and gathered her up in his arms as great sobs began to wrack his body.
And Roland turned to check on Jake, some out of place detail catching in his mind. The boy he had come to think of as his son sat on the packed dirt earth of the path with a look of pure surprise upon his face. For a boy he was yet, and though death had claimed him thrice before in memory, he still somehow held on to that belief of all boys, that belief of his own immortality. The gunslinger knew better.
Roland, perhaps slowed only a little from age, was quick, but Oy was quicker, racing to Jake. But there was nothing the bumbler or the gunslinger could do now but bear witness to it. Roland fell to his knees in the dirt next to the boy who had become the son he'd never had. At first glance it seemed as if nothing were wrong, but then Jake coughed, and the blood told the tale. As it poured from his mouth, Roland's heart seemed to twist like a rag inside his chest and the gunslinger wondered how it might possibly continue to beat after this.
"Don't try to speak," Roland said, "Something might be sprung inside you. A rib, mayhap two." Jake turned his head from side to side and took hold of Roland's wrist. His grip was strong, much too strong for a boy so young. His voice was stronger, each word clear. A gunslinger to the last, then. Roland felt pride in that much at least.
"Everythin's spring. This is dying - I know because I've done it before." What he said next were the words which had haunted Roland in the dark corners of his heart for centuries and which would come again to mind in the bitter watches to come. "If ka will say so, let it be so. See to the tower, Roland. See to the tower we set out to save!"
A few more moments and a few more ragged breaths and it was over. Roland wept openly in a way he hadn't done since he was a boy. When Ka breaks, the end is ever brutal and swift. And after comes only pain.
BipolarChemist has died. He was Susannah Dean. The White
Kestegs has died. He was Jake Chambers. The White
Goryani has died. He was Andy, the messenger robot (many other functions). The Red
Bad Ash has died. He was Jack Andolini. The Red
[highlight]With 14 players alive, it takes 7 to lynch and 8 to lock.[/highlight]
If nobody dissents, and the lynch for the day is locked in the first 24 hours, I am willing to condense day phases to reduce in what seems like time that isn't being used productively. Let me know what you guys think. Also, bloody night so me being ill plus the amount of story ground that needs to be covered means this story will be up later tonight.
A final note: as a tribute to the combination of things which happened on night 2, the day 3 starting story will remain vacant as a sort of trophy for the players giving me a series of events I've found no proper way to put into story.