While I was bleeding on the floor, Bernal took some time to argue with the bar owner about paying for damages that we had caused by getting attacked. Then he dragged me out of the bar by the arm like a caveman in an old comic strip. Which is terrible fucking first aid. If he had known that I could heal myself, maybe I could forgive that. He didn’t. I don’t think I like this guy.
Eventually I was able to get my shit together enough to heal myself. What I wonder about healing head injuries is does the brain damage get healed also? Or just the physical stuff? I guess I’ll find out in 20 years. Or I won’t because my brain will be mush.
I asked Bernal if he thought the bottle-smasher and his friends were just random racist assholes or if “they” were on to us. Neither of us had any way to be sure. I should have snapped a picture of one of the dudes as they were assaulting us and sent it to Mr. Awesome for an ID but I didn’t think of it.
We decided to proceed with the plan. Bernal got a 357 out of his truck and I didn’t say shit about guns this time. I’m not the one who’s going to get arrested if the cops come across us. Not for that anyway.
The statue is in the middle of the hedge maze as promised. There really is a secret stairway underneath it. I have no idea how it works normally, I used 42561’s strength spell and pushed the statue out of the way. Then I summoned a little ball of light and we went down.
Bernal was nonplussed by this display so maybe he really is magic. Although insane would also explain his behavior, so it’s a wash.
Down in the hole there are a couple of big rooms with cots and gallon tubs of dehydrated chicken and creamed corn and survivalist shit. Past that was a room where the magic happens. Literally. There were some confederate flags and other flags and some things that were banners from Southern army regiments? Paraphernalia like that – even an old sword on the wall.
The centerpiece of this memorabilia was a long-barreled pistol that was all shined up and nice looking but was broken and missing part of the handle. I need to watch one of the ten thousand documentaries about the Civil War because it looked like a modern revolver to me but wasn’t the civil war fought with muskets and shit? And swords like the one on the wall? But cowboys had modern guns, and wasn’t cowboy time before the civil war?
How did I know it was a civil war gun? Because as we were standing there I heard a voice.
“That’s a Griswold & Gunnison version of the Colt M1851 Navy revolver, it was Robert E Lee’s personal sidearm.”
Rocket Cat 