"Fast Packs" for Boot Hill

I am a little behind in prepping for the Boot Hill Cantons mini-campaign I was going on about a few days back, but here's something of potentially wider use for folks running Boot Hill and other western campaigns. Texas-sized thanks to those beautiful broken minds on this Google Plus thread that helped me crowdsource the baroquely over-done table at the bottom. 

Starting Gear

All starting characters come with cheap but functional range clothes, bed roll, canteen, poor-quality horse and $5 to their name. Roll on the following charts for the rest of your gear.

Distinctive Piece of Finery

Pick or Roll d20 Once

1	Buckskin Jacket
2	No Name Poncho
3	Ten-Gallon Hat
4	Civil War kepi
5	Threadbare Butternut Confederate Artillery Jacket
6	Union Cavalry Uniform pants and suspenders
7	Furry Bear Coat
8	Top Hat
9	Sombrero, Campesino
10	Sombrero, Mariachi band-style
11	Bolo Tie
12	White Mexican Federale uniform, patched
13	Derby, arrow-stuck
14	Cowboy Hat, bullet ridden
15	Duster, bloody cuffed
16	Beaver Coat, full length
17	Spanish Boots, Spanish Leather
18	Fancy Mexican Riding Boots, silver spurred
19	Chaps, sequined
20	Calico Dress

Hogpieces and Other Primary Killin' Implements

Roll d10 Once

1	Repeating Rifle, 9-shot
2	Double-Barrel Shotgun
3	Fast Draw Revolver, 5-shot
4	Fast Draw Revolver, 6-shot
5	Single Action Revolver, 5-shot
6	Single Action Revolver, 6-shot
7	Buffalo Rifle
8	Civil-War Repeating Rifle
9	Repeating Carbine, 6-shot
10	Three Sticks of Dynamite, short fuse

More Killin' Dee-vices

Roll d10 or Pick Twice

1	Comanche Lance
2	Big Ass Bowie Knife
3	Throwing Knife (x2)
4	Tomahawk
5	Single-Shot Derringer (x2)
6	Two-Shot Derringer
7	Old, but Well-Oiled Cap & Ball Revolver
8	Long-Barrel Revolver
9	Calvary Sabre
10	Rusted Scatter Gun, 10% chance of it exploding when fired.

Random Crap

Roll d100 Twice

01	Dead US Marshal's Badge
02	Silver-Plated Single Action Revolver
03	Tombstone
04	Three coils of 60-foot rope
05	Small herd of goats (five)
06	Stubborn Old Mule named after an Old Sweetheart
07	Braying donkey named King's Kent
08	Silent mute “trail wife” but loyal
09	Hillbilly Musket (treat as Army Rifle)
10	A velvet-lined coffin
11	Silver whiskey flask with monogram
12	30 Silver Dollars
13	Keg of Gunpowder marked XXX
14	Ten pounds of Deer Jerky
15	Three jugs of corn liquor
16	Holy Bible with cut out derringer space
17	Gold snuff case
18	Two pounds of chewing tobacco and spitoon
19	Bottle of Scotch, peaty
20	Amputation hacksaw
21	Prison manacles and chain
22	A set of spurs pitted and rusted
23	Rattlesnake, live
24	Guitar or banjo
25	Lonesome-sounding harmonica
26	Grave-diggin' shovel
27	Pocket watch on chain, Dad's
28	The prospector's will
29	Bearer bonds (50% confederate)
30	William Blake poetry, slim volume
31	tobacco, wacky, 2 "twists"
32	Small pouch of gold dust
33	6 silver bullets
34	Assorted ladies hosiery
35	Deck of cards, marked
36	Deck of cards, unmarked
37	Piano tuning equipment (fork, hammer, mutes)
38	Old cracker tin containing several peyote buttons
39	Wooden leg, pilfered
40	Dime store novels, random assortment
41	music box
42	String of Chinese coins
43	One-horned ox
44	Dentistry kit
45	Undertaker's tools
46	Bible, natty
47	Miniature Vest Bible, steel-backed
48	Three sasquatch teeth
49	Scalps, notable figures
50	Scalps, comrades
51	Diploma, college
52	Dead or Alive Wanted poster, you
53	Dead or Alive poster, twin brother
54	Bullwhip, lovingly maintained
55	Clark Stanley's Snake Oil Liniment, Made From Genuine Rattlesnakes
56	Pabst's Okay Special (22% alcohol, take 2 teaspoons 3x daily)
57	Dr. Wengert's Hepatica Pills
58	Dromgooles Bitters
59	The Mormon Elders' Damiana Wafers, for Strengthening the Brain, Nerves, and Sexual Organs
60	Crane's Laxative Mint Chewing Gum
61	Kickapoo Indian Sagwa Renovator
62	Jayne's Vermifuge
63	Saddlebags with secret compartments
64	Ridiculously ornate shotgun, small bore, once used by a Portuguese Duke to shoot partridges.
65	Worn but still razor-sharp skinning knife.
66	2 pound bag of coffee beans
67	Coffee hand mill
68	Autograph book
69	Ten Confederate gold pieces
70	Gold pocket watch
71	Vial of nitroglycerine with dropper
72	French's ladies' underwear, made in Chicago. Red satin & black lace
73	Cargo manifest and letters taken off a Civil War smuggler/blockade runner
74	Domino mask or red handkerchief, conceals identity perfectly
75	Crystal skull, stolen
76	Head in a box wrapped in brown paper and string
77	Last letter from a famous gunslinger
78	Hound dog, scrawny but tenacious
79	Child named William
80	Branding irons in small shapes that can be used to 'correct' brands on cattle
81	20" cast iron skillet with lid
82	Harness and tack for plough-mule
83	Three iron blades for ploughs
84	Rusty sickle
85	Five axe-heads in various sizes, just add handles
86	Sixty-two pounds of nails in an oily sack
87	Apache medicine bag
88	Three sacks of oats
89	20-pound Bag of flour
90	Plunger Detonator, 26 notches cut in box
91	Belt buckle big enough to hide a derringer behind it
92	Basket of paper roses.
93	Letter promising a job in Machine, Montana. It's a month old.
94	Knife with an elk horn handle.
95	String of Five Wild Horses, Unbroken
96-00	Upgrade Your Horse (stackable)

A Fistful of Groin Shots

Nearly 30 long years I ran my first and to date only Boot Hill campaign. For about 2-3 months our then-daily games left off the relentless AD&D and Traveller drumbeat and amped up the six-gun sound of the Hole in the Head gang.

I believe it was the one and only campaign that was more like a wargame campaign in that it had a defined, winnable objective—albeit a crude one, steal $100,000 and hightail it to down Mexico way. The last session featured the PCs stealing a Gatling gun from the local cavalry fort, setting it up in the main street of Promise City and for an hour of real-time play straight gunning down scores of NPCs as they looted the bank. Three of four the PC bandits fell to the guns of the infuriated posse leaving my brother, the lone bandito, the ultimate “winner” of the game.

In terms of pure cathartic psycho-tunes fun it rated up there in the pantheon. So recently when I got that need to shake off the D&D routine feeling, Boot Hill was among one of the top candidates for the one-shot. (No need to re-dish the scenario set-up you can see it here.)

I had set up the scenario to reward a Peckinpah götterdämmerung by providing for a scoring system based on “marauding points” (see below). The actual session not only delivered that heaping big pile of palate-cleansing nihilism, it did so in spades.

Marauding Points

Each “combatant” killed: 50

Each scalp of a combatant taken: 50

Each non-combatant killed: -50

Each $1 of loot taken: 1

Structural damage to a building: 50

Total destruction of a building: 150

Poor horse, mule, or donkey stolen: 25

Fair horse stolen: 50

Good horse stolen: 100

Excellent horse stolen: 200

Cattle per head rustled: 30

It probably helped that I picked out the amoral ruffians of our regular Google Plus group, the Nefarious Nine, as the play group. And just to add an extra twist, decided to parallel one of the stranger play group vs. play group violence moments by inviting in Brad from the home group to take the role as the mysterious (and back-stabbing) Drifter.

“The Party”

Johnny Walker Texas Ranger, Mikah M.

“Crazy Elmo” Stuckey, Michael M.

“Pious Jack”, Peter R.

Buck “That Bastard” Parker, Robert P.

The Drifter, Brad E.

An obvious blotto Will Bill Hickok (second from left)
poses with members of the Nefarious Nine.

I deliver you these snapshots of the evening.

6:20 am-10:00 am

The Nine lay low on a ridge just east of town. The expected escalation of strange, unwieldly, and unworkable plans that will be undone in the friction of actual implementation supplemented by Texas drawling and yarn-spinning consumes half the session.

During the bull session, Crazy Elmo sneaks forward to roll the buckskin-jacketed, clay jug-toting drunk near a tipped wagon on the trade road only to find that he is eyeball to eyeball with no less than Wild Bill Hickok. He decides to get in with the erstwhile lawman, gambler and showman and takes up a drinking with him.

Meanwhile the Nine settle on a marauding plan that seems to entail pouring kerosene all over the cantina, draining a cabrito of its blood into a bucket, fetching the half-starved grizzly in the bear-baiting pit and leading him to the church (it's Sunday morning).

What could go wrong?

Click to embiggen crappy player's map.
Thanks to Migellito for prettifying.

10:05 am

Buck rambles down main street with his bucket of goat blood, kick opens the door of the church, and splatters the towns women and children (the men-folk of Cantones are not god-farin' people).

Since Boot Hill (second ed.) is a game nearly all combat rules and a sprinkling of random campaign subsystems, I begin a series of arbitrary rolls and rulings for various anomalies—which I of course love—with a “Bear Concentration” check to see if the bear will follow the trail and not the man providing. Unfortunately for Buck the bear blows it and instead concentrates on mauling him.

Meanwhile in the outhouse behind the canteen Crazy Elmo starts a-whoopin' on the former boxer now cattle foremen to the big bad in town. Boot Hill has a surprisingly fun and quick system for mixing it up with your fists that entails a simple 2d10 roll. Crazy Elmo starts to trade a couple rounds of

10:05:10

Meanwhile the Ranger who is supposed to cover Elmo from the ridge with his rifle decides to start shooting. Bullet one goes clean over the foreman and straight through the backdoor of the cantina instantly killing the barkeep--and sending a steady stream of now-irate cattle hands out in pursuit.

Buck is wrestling with the bear, Elmo with the foreman who still has his pants around his ankles. The rest of the gang comes running around to deal with the cow hands and their boss, the bolo-tied Captain. Pious Jack runs up, two guns a-blazing at point-blank range and miracolously misses all six shoots (you can typically get off 3 shots with a revolver in a round). Johnny Walker is still plugging away with the rifle and hitting Elmo as much as the other side.

Skip ahead a couple of rounds. Elmo is barely hang on to life having been shot or pummeled from just about every direction. He does manage to squeeze off a surprising number of groin shots, all serious taking down a few of the enemy. The Capatin goes down in a pink mist of head wounds. The Ranger comes running up and torches cantina those ensuring that she ends the evening having killed the maximum number of combatants who are bottlenecked inside.

Finally Buck manages his “Escape Bear Mauling” check and climbs up the cantina—just in time to have it go up in flames. He dives off next round. The Drifter meanwhile is calmly walking up the main street gunning down the gambler Earl Dandy and a few cowpokes as the bear contently mauls another.

With nearly all visible combatants down it looks like the gang (minus Crazy Elmo who took his fifth and fatal wound) now can start the serious ravaging of the town.

Almost.

The Drifter decides this is his foreordained hour to turn on the rest of the gang. With a few choice throw-down words he calls out both the Ranger and Pious Jack. Despite having the best first shot speed he even let's the Ranger fire first. Hilariously she hits three times coming within 1 strength point of killing the turncoat. The Drifter also scores majorly lucky scoring mortal head wounds against both his opponents.

A barely alive Drifter misses seeing the notorious desperado Sam Bass step out from behind the church who promptly fills him up with three lead slugs. Stone cold killer he is Bass cooly saunters up to the lifeless anti-hero and crushes his skull with a boot.

Meanwhile Buck jumps down from the cantina after winning some gunplay with the dynamite loving town midget. Finding the TnT stash he manages to blow up the southeast corner of town before hightailing it back to their camp.

He sits down to drink corn liquor with Wild Bill over a few hands of cards and we fade to black. Seriously it was all over in six rounds, a minute of game time (two real hours).

Thoroughly satisfied, I believe we are now on for an on-again, off-again mini-campaign to be played on Google Plus. If you are hankering for some old school Western spaghetti western action come track us down there.  

Once Upon a Time in the Cantones de los Montes

When it comes to roleplaying I am definitely a “D&D guy”.  I've yet to run a Hill Cantons session where I have felt even the slightest bored (it helps having some of the most creative and unruly players I have ever encountered). And I have rare to never felt that old urge to abruptly change gears and dump the campaign.

But that pining for bright and shiny new things still rides into my head over and over again. I have found it's best just to give in every once in a while. So here I am dusting off my copy of second edition Boot Hill and preparing for a one-shot to be held virtually on Google Plus hangouts next Tuesday night at 8:30 CST. (Back to finishing up those reportbacks from the Border War.)

The place: Cantones de los Montes, a tiny shithole town nestled in the foothills of the Guadaloop Mountains (conveniently near the Territory border). A dusty, seedy white adobe and timber collection of buildings housing some of the meanest sons-a-bitches this side of the border.

The time: late spring 1876 (or 42,952 in other, forgotten ways of measuring the passing of years.)

The set-up: A nameless drifter floats into this mean little corner of the world. The surly locals don't take a shine to the new feller and beat him within an inch of his life. Turns out they messed with the wrong hombre as said drifter is blood-brothers with the Nefarious Nine, some of the coldest killers, goat-rustlers and wife-stealers around. The Nine—who strangely only number five—saddle up and ride for town a shootin' and a hollerin'.

NPCs of note in the Cantones

“Captain” Claude Evo, burly, hirsute local cattle baron and kingmaker. The Captain never lacks for a bolo tie.

Frank Stripes, former doctor run out of his Mississippi practice for unwholesome phrenological studies with the craniums of dead convicts and vagabonds. Every once in a while--deep into his jug of corn liquor--he will slip up and introduce himself as “Phillip”.

“Two-Fisted Patch” Drogo, former riverboat bare-knuckles boxer now foreman for the Captain.

“Cherokee Carl” Berry. The leanest, toughest midget in the Territory. Has a fondness for dynamite.

Earl Dandy. Impeccably-dressed gambler noted for his outlandishly tall stovepipe hats.

And many more to be announced when the repitilian part of my brain can conjure up more bad puns and in-jokes.