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HDODGE.NPC
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Text File
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1995-08-28
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7KB
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272 lines
FILE HDODGE.NPC
//------
BEGIN_NPC
BEGIN_DESCRIPTION
You hear a gun cock behind you and spin around to see the source. A
gunslinger, in full western duds, has a .38 leveled on you. Then, oddly, he
holsters it in his gunbelt, but keeps his hand hovering by the piece. All is
quiet as he waits for you to make you first move.
END_DESCRIPTION
BEGIN_TALK_TEXT
"Either your fast enough to take me, or not. Whats to jaw about? Say
'Draw' and lets get this going!"
END_TALK_TEXT
BEGIN_WON_TEXT
You take too much damage and fall to the ground. The gunslinger holsters
his pistol, walks casually up to you, and spits a big wad of something on to
you. "Good try, kid. No one can beat me though..."
END_WON_TEXT
BEGIN_LOST_TEXT
The gunslinger drops his pistol as he falls to his knees, close to death.
"Good shootin', kid..." the gunslinger whispers, blood dripping from his
mouth. Then he falls forward, face down, dead.
END_LOST_TEXT
BEGIN_STATS
NAME Gunslinger
LEVEL 3
RACE human
CLASS criminal
REACTION combative
COMBATTYPE kamikaze
SEX male
POWERTYPE none
POWERVAL 0
STR 30
MEL 35
RAN 47
DEX 35
STA 39
CHA 32
MONEY 17
BOUNTY 59
WEAPON1 HWEAPONS.TXT .38 Special
WEAPON2 none
ARMOUR HARMOUR.TXT Leather Jacket
DISTANCE 30
END_STATS
END_NPC
//------
BEGIN_NPC
BEGIN_DESCRIPTION
A large man in a long trench coat strides confidently into view ahead of
you. You also spot a shotgun, hanging from his right hand. Then he stops
and faces you, shotgun at his side. Waiting for you to move first.
END_DESCRIPTION
BEGIN_TALK_TEXT
You try talking with him, but he ignores you and breaks open the shotgun
to check the shells inside. Then he snaps it back together and smiles
sadistically at you.
END_TALK_TEXT
BEGIN_WON_TEXT
A perfectly aimed blast from the shotgun tears most of your face off. You
cry out in pain and drop to your knees. The man in the trench coat walks up
and smashes you across the back of the head with his shotgun, knocking you
instantly unconscious.
END_WON_TEXT
BEGIN_LOST_TEXT
A great hit drops the trench coat wearing man to the ground. You walk
over and pick up the man's shotgun. Breaking it open, you see there's still
one shell left. So you turn the shotgun on it's owner and blast him point-
blank in the chest finishing his life.
END_LOST_TEXT
BEGIN_STATS
NAME Man in Trench Coat
LEVEL 3
RACE human
CLASS criminal
REACTION combative
COMBATTYPE distance
SEX male
POWERTYPE none
POWERVAL 0
STR 45
MEL 30
RAN 35
DEX 25
STA 45
CHA 35
MONEY 32
BOUNTY 58
WEAPON1 HWEAPONS.TXT Std. Shotgun
WEAPON2 HWEAPONS.TXT Bowie Knife
ARMOUR HARMOUR.TXT Trench Coat
DISTANCE 40
END_STATS
END_NPC
//------
BEGIN_NPC
BEGIN_DESCRIPTION
From the shadows, a short but stocky man steps out with two .44 Magnums
aimed at you. "Greetings exterminator," he says in a confident voice,
"Please raise your hands. Slowly. I'll be you're robbing you today. That is
unless you have some kind of problem with it. In that case, I'll be killing
you."
END_DESCRIPTION
BEGIN_TALK_TEXT
"Ah! Idle chit-chat from my exterminating friend. Hm. I'd be
watching my mouth though. My trigger fingers are more than a little twitchy
today."
END_TALK_TEXT
BEGIN_WON_TEXT
You finally collapse from your huge number of bullet wounds. The thief
keeps firing though, as he walks towards your dieing body. Finally, he runs
out of rounds and he watches you die as he reloads.
END_WON_TEXT
BEGIN_LOST_TEXT
"Damn bastard! See you in hell..." the thief says with his cracked and
dieing voice. Looks of pain crack his face again and again as death comes
for him. But he doesn't cry out. He just takes the pain and dies.
END_LOST_TEXT
BEGIN_STATS
NAME Confident Thief
LEVEL 4
RACE human
CLASS criminal
REACTION combative
COMBATTYPE kamikaze
SEX male
POWERTYPE none
POWERVAL 0
STR 30
MEL 30
RAN 45
DEX 40
STA 38
CHA 43
MONEY 58
BOUNTY 63
WEAPON1 HWEAPONS.TXT .44 Magnum
WEAPON2 HWEAPONS.TXT .44 Magnum
ARMOUR HARMOUR.TXT Leather Jacket
DISTANCE 40
END_STATS
END_NPC
//------
BEGIN_NPC
BEGIN_DESCRIPTION
You notice someone leaning on a building ahead. You realize it's a woman
once she starts walking towards you. She's wearing a large sombrero and
worn-looking pancho. You can't see her hands but you can tell she's looking
for a fight.
END_DESCRIPTION
BEGIN_TALK_TEXT
"I eat exterminators for breakfast. Ain't no way you're gettin' outta
here walkin." You then notice two points sticking out from the pancho
about waste hight. She's got a couple of pistols trained on you, but you can't
tell what kind.
END_TALK_TEXT
BEGIN_WON_TEXT
"Like I said, 'terminator. I kill your kind all the time." Then she
pulls out a knife and makes another notch in the grip of her pistol, flicking
the wood splinters down on you. When she's done, she holsters it, and raises
her boot to smash it down on your head. The darkness falls over you and your
thankful for the relief from your wounds.
END_WON_TEXT
BEGIN_LOST_TEXT
The Pancho Lady finally falls. Even from the ground though, she still
tries raising her pistols to take you with her. But the strength just isn't
there and they tumble uselessly to the ground. In another few seconds she's
silent and unmoving.
END_LOST_TEXT
BEGIN_STATS
NAME Pancho Lady
LEVEL 3
RACE human
CLASS criminal
REACTION combative
COMBATTYPE kamikaze
SEX female
POWERTYPE none
POWERVAL 0
STR 25
MEL 32
RAN 38
DEX 37
STA 33
CHA 38
MONEY 23
BOUNTY 52
WEAPON1 HWEAPONS.TXT .38 Special
WEAPON2 HWEAPONS.TXT .38 Special
ARMOUR none
DISTANCE 40
END_STATS
END_NPC
//------
BEGIN_NPC
BEGIN_DESCRIPTION
A war cry brings your focus on an old-west style native-american indian
ahead of you. His weapons are primitive but he's muscular and looks strong.
His face is covered in war paint and he's wearing a feathered headband. You
kind of get the feelind his war cry is directed at you.
END_DESCRIPTION
BEGIN_TALK_TEXT
You talk at him for a moment, but he doesn't respond. Either he doesn't
speak the language or doesn't want to. Suddenly he let's out another fierce,
loud war cry again as some kind of response.
END_TALK_TEXT
BEGIN_WON_TEXT
His weapons are archaic but he knows how to use them. You're covered with
wounds as you fall to the ground. The indian walks up and grabs a thick lock
of your hair, and with one swift blow with a tomahawk, cleaves it from your
skull. You see him put it in a pocket then pass out from the pain of your
wounds.
END_WON_TEXT
BEGIN_LOST_TEXT
His old weapons are no match for today's modern weaponry. The indian puts
up a fierce fight, but eventually collapses from his many wounds. He's
muttering something in some native indian language but you can't understand.
Then he falls silent and all the strength seems to leave his body. In
seconds he's dead.
END_LOST_TEXT
BEGIN_STATS
NAME American Indian
LEVEL 3
RACE human
CLASS criminal
REACTION combative
COMBATTYPE kamikaze
SEX male
POWERTYPE none
POWERVAL 0
STR 65
MEL 45
RAN 48
DEX 41
STA 52
CHA 36
MONEY 6
BOUNTY 41
WEAPON1 HWEAPONS.TXT Bow and Arrows
WEAPON2 HWEAPONS.TXT Tomahawk
ARMOUR none
DISTANCE 40
END_STATS
END_NPC