<span style="font-style: italic">Actually because of the great range involved, Celrie is just barely within the maximum range of her bolt spell, and thus is suffering a -4 to hit. However, even knocking one dice off the end still leaves 9 damage, which is enough.<br/><br/>Also - though I realize Arcea might not understand this in-character, Quill's goo-zooka is not a long-ranged weapon. It has an effective range of only about a dozen inches. </span><br/><br/>Seeing the pretty bolt of seeking magical energy speeding towards her, the bandit girl (a female fur who could best be described as posessing a rustic charm, with her striped fur marred by leaves and burrs, and a much less lush figure than Celrie, with hardly a spare ounce of fat on her) made no effort to dodge or duck, but peered at the projectile with interest. Seeing the tiny hearts streaming off of it, in the split second before it hit, she cracked an affectionate smile. Even from such a distance Celrie could tell that the five pairs of eyes on her hadn't had near enough of the visual feast she was presenting.<br/><br/>The coon girl started to shout back "Yer cute too!", but was interrupted by the cannon-like impact of the "kiss". It was widely known among the salons of every town Celrie visited that her kisses could sweep you right off your feet - and in this case that was quite literally true. In a burst of shimmering hearts, the sniper raccoon went head-over-heels in a less romantic, more literal sense, being hurled bodily through the air for a good six feet and landing painfully in a patch of thorny brambles. Her rifle, which had flown out of her hand in the moment of impact, twirled in the air like a baton for a moment before embedding itself barrel-first into the mud. The skunkette loading her crossbow stopped in her tracks and blinked, looking suddenly worried. "Wh' the f... Was... that an attack spell?" she asked in a momentary daze.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">The ranger targeted by Celrie's spell has a toughness of 5, being another of those who rely on a force field. Thus the damage of 9 is enough to take her out.</span><br/><br/>The male raccoon looked back and forth between Arcea, Celrie, and the (still-indecisive) artillery crew. Then he turned towards the dashing power-armor and cupped one hand around his mouth. "GASKETTT!!! WHAT IN DAMNATION 'RE YOU WAITING FOR? FIRE UP YOUR CONTRAPTION AND GET IN THERE ALREADY! SHUT 'EM DOWN!"<br/><br/>Charging forward on all fours and still picking up speed, the draconic mech (which, on coming closer, doesn't look to include any parts from military robots the characters have ever seen, rather being built out of parts from discarded appliances like washing machines, wood-burning stoves and whiskey stills) spreads a pair of wings made of rusty tin sheeting from its back, and begins warming up a pair of rockets on its back with a whoosh and a high-pitched whine. It's bounding up from the ground with each loping, graceless step it takes now, and looks to be preparing for a big jump. For the first time, it speaks, as a shrill, distorted, artificially amplified voice echoes from the machine's open metal jaws: "HEEERE KITTY KITTY!" Alongside it, the two telegators, still cooling off from their first psi-powered jaunt through the fabric of space, are waddling forward and look like they're about to leap forward again as well...<br/><br/>The train door slides open and Alexis pokes her head back out. It seems that she's found her courage once again, and something else besides: there is a large black metal disk strapped to her back. "Celrie!" she pants breathlessly. "I just remembered! The train has a blasting charge for clearing obstructions! Don't worry, I'll clear the way for us while our warriors keep the bandits busy!" without waiting for any response as to whether or not this was a good idea, the young wolf-girl starts jogging in the direction of the barricade on the hover-train track.