In one of the comfortable berths, an older man dozed. In his mind's eye he didn't see the flatness of the Kansas landscape, the small farmsteads that they passed, the telegraph poles that strung wire along the tracks. It wasn't dark in his head. No, the old man dreamed of majestic mountains, vibrant streams, the heft of a pick in his callused hands. He dreamed of the sweat of his brow, the bay of his mule. He dreamed of gold.

The train rocked suddenly. Just a normal track variance, nothing alarming, but it jerked the old man out of his dreams. He looked around the car, blinking and rubbing his eyes to get the grit out, then yawned and stretched, groaning a little as he worked out the kink in his neck. It had still been sunny out when he'd dozed off. He looked at the bench beside him, and patted the yellow dog curled there fondly. his mouth was dry, he realized, so he reached into the pocket of his faded flannel shirt and withdrew a small silver flask. He opened it, took a swig, swished the whiskey about his mouth for a bit, then swallowed.

he looked at the figure on the bench across from him. "So, where do ya reckon we're at now?"

The cards seem to leap from his hands, scattering across the seat and onto the floor. Heedless of the crease in his immaculate trousers, the young man bends to retrieve the cards and sorts them back into a block.

"You see, Miss Hawthorne, that is what invariably happens at some point," he explains, blushing slightly, "It's as though playing cards sense my unfamiliarity and will not abide me. It's quite embarrassing.

"Please show me where I'm going wrong."

He passes the deck back to her, watching her graceful fingers take them delicately, but comfortably, as though they belong there.

"Perhaps we could attract another pair of players and have a game of whist," he adds, looking about the car, "I'm afraid I have no head for poker either. I'm always confusing the straight and the -- what is it when they're all the same color? -- the flush." He flashes her a satisfied smile, proud of his knowledge.

"Why, Mister Darling, even you have to admit that you're getting better under my brief tutelage," she said, amusement evident in her voice.  She picked up a card that had flown into her lap, turning it about in her bare fingers before sliding it into the middle.  The cards blurred as she shuffled, transferring them from one hand to the other quite quickly.  "You should at least learn enough to keep yourself from being fleeced, I would think, but then I somehow doubt you shall be throwing your money on the table any time soon.  You are far too sensible for that."

Eyes of lovely brown flitted briefly to his face as she shuffled, then flitted to the others traveling in the car.  "Oh, I would not mind in the slightest if anyone wished to join us, particularly if they have money to lose."  Her ready smile softened the acerbic comment, making it almost a joke, though Randolph knew that she never joked about money.

"Prolly about halfway there, old timer," he said gruffly, though not unpleasantly. Following Gabby's example, the man reached for his flask and took a swig. He offered it to the man next to him.

He accepted it and took a swig before handing it back to Joe. "Maybe more than halfway to Dodge, I think. Still a while to go to Denver, though. That's the end of the line for us. What about you?"

"Oh, me and my nephew have a long ways to go yet." Gabby chuckles. "Headin' to Californy, we are. Over the Sierra Nevadas to the Maze, gonna try our luck pullin' Ghost Rock out o' the ground." He stretches, then pats the seat. "I been that way afore, you know. Way back when I was a damn sight younger. And lemme tell ya, this is goin' in style compared to what ya had to put up with then. Why, ya'll had to travel hundreds o' miles by hoof, or the heel-toe. Couldn't take a wagon across the mountains, no siree. No trails, you see, 'cept what the injuns had. Ain't modern convinces grand? This whole marvelous machine done pull our bones halfway 'cross the land in weeks instead o' months." he took another swig of his flask. "So, what d' you boys hope to find in Denver, if you don't mind me askin'?"

For the last hour, Morgan's attention had shifted between his copy of the Salina paper and the grassland passing outside the window. He had long felt a duty to study what the newspapers said regarding the events in Kansas. Although most newspaper writers' pronounced tendency toward exaggeration was a source of amusement to him, Morgan recognized that there were times when they would report a matter of importance, some outlawry that had escaped the notice of the law. The stories in the Salina paper were mercifully tame, mostly concerned with farming and high hopes for a strong harvest.

The tameness of the news had found him gazing out the window, silently marveling at how quickly the landscape rolled past. How many nights had he spent under the Kansas sky? The war and the years after. Always hunting. Despite the hardship, the land was comfortingly familiar. He had bled for it and seen other men yield their lives for it. And it hid secrets, things that Morgan earnestly wished he had never known. But for everything gained and lost, it was home.

Morgan folded the paper in his lap, listening to the men question how far they were from Dodge. The marshal had enjoyed the luxury of the ride, a rare trip that wasn't made on horseback. Gazing down the aisle, he frowned, realizing that one of the men conversing was someone of his acquaintance. A man he hadn't laid eyes on in nigh on two years.

He politely waited for a break in the miners' discussion before asking, "Gabby Clarke? Is that you, old timer?"

Gabby blinked at the familiar voice, looked up, and his face buried itself beneath the wrinkles of a beaming smile. "Why, Marshal Morgan! Hot damn, son, ain't seen you in a month o' Sundays!" He nudges the dog at his side to try and make a space, but the yellow lab gives him a lazy look and refuses to budge from her comfortable spot. He sighs, and holds out his flask. "Imagine seein' you here! You hopin' the James Gang pays us a visit so you can give 'em what for?"

"I thought you had the look o' the mines in you. Californy, eh? Ghost Rock...Hmmm...Well, maybe one day. Me and Bill is headin' to Black Hawk, down near Denver. Heard there's some silver minin' up there. Figured we'd get up there afore the big outfits snatch it all, and if we gotta work one of 'em if they're already taken." As Gabby entered into conversation with the man seated nearby, Joe let off, seeing as how the two men seemed to know each other.

The handsome man leaned across the table, shuffling his deck of cards, which seemed to be a habit of his. The deck had a slightly used look to them, though the bright red checkered surface on their backs didn't look overly worn. Randolph's fumble with the playing cards seemed to catch his eye. "Looks like they got a card game over there. I think I might go see if they'd mind another hand at the table." He gestured towards the table where Randolph and Coraline sat, just across the car.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Tue 14 Aug 2012.

Jenny smiled prettily and shrugged. "I play cards with my husband sometimes, but not really all that much. I might come along and watch," she said. Just like that, she took the lead though, approaching the other table.

"Hello," she said, approaching Coraline and Randolph and favoring each of them with a bright smile. "I'm Jenny, and this is Darrel, and I think he wants to come play cards with you two. And I'd like to watch. Not much of a card player myself, although I do occasionally play a hand with my husband if he asks, though that hasn't happened in a while since he struck out for Denver, but now that he's settled I'm headed west to join him. Oh, sorry, we were talking about cards. Would you two mind a little company?"

Daniel had briefly been sitting apart from his uncle while Gabby had been dozing the miles away. His attention had briefly been captivated by a distant, shining, silvery ribbon that indicated a large stream or small river near the edge of his visual range.

His attention on the scenery wavered briefly as his uncle started making small talk with those around him, though his uncle was always making small talk with something, so his gaze returned to the picturesque Kansas countryside.

However, when he heard Caleb question Gabby, Dan left his seat and went over toward where the other men were. "Good ta see ya again, Caleb. What brings ya out this way? Chasin' down somebody that's done no good?"

Morgan accepted Clarke's flask, taking a sip before returning it. He smiled warmly when d'Alex greeted him. "It is truly good to see you both. It's a been a bit of a spell since I last saw some friendly faces."

He gently shakes his head in response to their questions. "I'm just headed to Dodge. No special reason. And I'm enjoying the fact that, for once, I'm not getting there on the back of a horse." He grins before adding, "'Course, in my line, Dodge is a place where there's always business to be done."

"Enough about me. What takes the two of you to Dodge City? You found some gold or ghost rock to chase, Gabby?"

"Well I surely wish you both well." Gabby says to Joe, who has clearly underestimated his ability to hold multiple conversations at once. "Trust me, you don't ever want to see the big outfits get hold o' everythin'. When you stake your claim, get it iron-clad. There's some snakes out there who'd steal it from ya afore you could blink, and I ain't talkin' 'bout regular claim jumpers, neither."

He takes his flask back from Caleb, caps it, and puts it away. "Oh, not yet. Just followin' my nose right now. The plan is to reach Lost Angels and head up the Maze from there. Heard tell a place called Gomorra's the center o' the Ghost Rock trade. Might be a destination to look up. But we might just reach the end of the Denver-Pacific line and head on through the Sierra Nevadas...I still know a few routes we can use to get through, if they ain't all been swallowed up by the Rail Barons."

Dan nodded at Gabby's response, "And I'm lookin' ta set up a barbershop wherever we land. Never was much one fer minin', but cuttin' hair, well, even the old ones that done lost their hair still need a shave and a friendly face ta chat with. Mebbe that'll be my own little gold mine. Or at least enough to make a livin'."

He paused for a couple moments, then turned the conversation back to Caleb, "So whatcha been up ta these past couple o' years?"

"Just what you'd expect, Daniel," Morgan replied, "Rounding up outlaws. Tryin' to keep the peace. Even having done this for years, the things that people will commit violence for still manages to surprise me. This country's got a long way to go before it's truly civilized."

Morgan glanced out the window. "I've never gotten as far as California. You fellas are much better traveled than I am. I think, for a long time, I honestly believed I'd never leave this territory. But of late, it seems I keep getting further and further from home. Did you two find California to your liking when you were there last? Heard there's a lot of odd business going on out that way."

Randolph regards the young woman and her companion with a friendly smile as he rises to his feet and tips his derby to Jenny, "My name is Randolph Darling. This is Miss Hawthorne.

"We were wondering if anyone might want to make up a game of whist." Turning to Coraline he asks, "What do you think?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:26, Mon 13 Aug 2012.

Daniel shook his head, "I ne'er been to Californy like muh Uncle. Only heard all th' stories 'bout the gold paved streets." He turned a little and gave Gabby a wink before returning his gaze to Caleb. "Sounds like yer life has been fun though. Do ya think ya need some help with ne'er-do-wells in Dodge? You can count on Gabby an' I if ya do while we're in town. We're helpful sorts."

Dan nodded at his own proclamation of being helpful and then looked at Gabby for confirmation and a little more information on California itself.

Gabby grins. "Now, hold on there! Never went s'far as to say that, but when I first got there y'all could reach into the streams an' pick out nuggets the size o' your fist! 'course, that were during the early days. Took a mite more effort once the easy stuff was gone, but if'n a man knew what he was doin', and struck the right claim, well he could set hisself up right pretty. I spent the best years o' my life doin' just that. Things changed a bit when the quake come through, but I was up in the mountains, and I'll tell you, you ain't seen prettier peaks than the Sierra Nevadas. can't speak to weird stuff, though...you hear all kinds o' tall tales and such, but when you dig deep down in ANY place these days you hear o' weird stuff. Now, I like the Epitaph as much as the next fella but y'all need to take it with a grain o' salt. Good readin', but them folks is somewhat deranged."

he nods at Danial's pronouncement. "Sure enough! I know we're southern boys, supposed to be all in a twist whene'er the Yankees show up, wavin' the Stars 'n Bars and hollerin' 'Dixie' at the top o' our lungs, but hell, I didn't start this war, and law is law, no matter which side o' the M-D you're on. Y'all can count on us if you need help in Dodge. hopefully it won't come to that, but, well, they don't say 'git out o' Dodge' fer nothin, no they don't."

"I believe that Whist takes four, and if Jenny is inclined to watch rather than play, then we should pick another game, Mister Randolph.  I know how little you enjoy poker, but perhaps this gentleman could show us a thing or two about cards?"  She eyed Darrel appreciatively, giving a slight nod to the cards in his hands.  "What game do you favor, sir?  You seem like a poker player to me, if I ever saw one."

He politely waited for the torrent of words coming from Jenny to cease, and smiled genially at both Randolph and Coraline while they spoke, though his smile for the latter was definitely warmer. "It is most assuredly a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. Darling and Miss Hawthorne," he said, speaking with the languorous drawl of an aristocratic southerner. "As Mrs. Linkous has just informed you, I would indeed have some interest in a game of cards, if you wouldn't mind another hand at the table."

As he spoke, he shuffled a deck in his hands quite expertly, as if it were a habit for him. His clothing looked well made, with buttons that had a golden shine to them. "I must confess only a passing familiarity with whist and as the lovely Miss Hawthorne pointed out, Mrs. Linkous here isn't much for cards. But you are correct, ma'am - poker is certainly the game of choice for me. I wouldn't be so presumptuous to say that I could show y'all a thing or two about cards, though I do upon occasion have a good night," he said, lowering his voice a bit and tilting his eyes heavenward for a moment before bringing them back to level, "if the spirits favor me." He winked and then flashed a smile.

"Pardon my poor manners. I'm Darrel Parkins, but seeing as we're among friends, y'all can just call me Darrel."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Tue 14 Aug 2012.

"You two'll be the first I call on if trouble comes," Morgan answered with a smile. "Are you two planning on staying in Dodge long? You have any business there, or are you just passing through?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don' know nobody in Dodge, but it'll be a nice place ta relieve muh bladder, stretch muh legs, and maybe get a drink 'r two while gittin' some sleep on somethin' that ain't movin' so much. Might get a chance ta visit the local barber ta catch up on th' town gossip. Mebbe I'll even git some interestin' news fer ya, Caleb. Course if Dodge is borin' or unwelcomin', well, we'll be gittin' outta Dodge soon enough, like Uncle Gabby says."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:03, Tue 14 Aug 2012.

"And I'm rather eager to be headin' on myself. Weren't plannin' on stayin' more than a day or two, rest up for the next leg o' the journey." Gabby says. A word from the other end of the car catches his attention, though. "Say, would you mind excusin' me for jest a moment? Sounds like someone's organizing a game over there...I figger I might try my luck for a few hands." He stands, and nods over to Caleb and Danial. "I'll catch up with you in a bit. Good evenin'."

he heads over to the seat with the card players. "'Scuse me. Hi. I don't mean to intrude none, but did I hear you folk say you was plannin' a friendly game o' poker? If I'm buttin' in where I ain't wanted, well, I can just mosey off back the way I come, but if'n you folk are looking for another fella, well, I knows a thing or two 'bout cards and wouldn't mind a play to pass the evenin'."

"Well, hello, mister!" she said, greeting Gabby with a smile, and then began talking again. Jenny seemed to have a friendly and infectious manner, even if she was prone to talking a lot. Gabby might finally have met someone who shares his penchant for being voluble. "I think they're going to start a game here, but I'm not sure yet because they haven't really decided but they're talking about it. Mr. Darling over here wanted to play a game called whist, which I haven't really heard about - but they need four people for that, so maybe they can play now. I don't play much in the way of cards, you see. My husband taught me about poker, though I'm not very good at it. But Mr. Parkins and Miss Hawthorne both seem to know about poker, and so do you, so maybe that makes a game of that too, if everyone wants to do that."

Randolph extends a hand to the older man, "I'm Randolph Darling, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. --"

"I ain't heard o' whist afore, but I reckon I'm up for anythin'" Gabby says to the woman. "Heck, I played a lot o' strange games in my day, and I'm eager to learn. Once played poker with some Chinese who had some odd rules--you drew 13 cards and had to split your hand up into 3 piles, and bettin' was done on all three hands. Very strategic, it was, though I dunno if it was real rules or just some men having fun with a foreigner."

He shakes the offered hand with a grin. "Pleased to meet ya, Randy. I'm Gabriel Clarke, but most everyone calls me Gabby, and I'd take it as a kindness if you do the same."

Cora had to smile at the old coot's nickname for Randolph.  She patted the seat next to her for Darrel to take, wanting to keep a better eye on him as they played.  His flash was false enough, but she wanted to know why.  "Well, welcome over Mister Clarke.  I'm Coraline Hawthorne, but you may call me Cora, if you like.  Everyone usually does."  She made sure that her warm smile included Darrel as well.  "Please sit and we can play a hand or two.  Darrel, would you like to shuffle up and deal or shall I?"

Darrel was never one to need a second invitation to sit next too a beautiful woman. He slid casually into the seat without appearing to be over eager. He slid his deck of playing cards back into his inside jacket pocket and spread his palms. "Ladies first, Cora," he said, gesturing to Coraline indicating that she should begin.

"Shall we make a little friendly wager, just to keep things interesting?"

"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Cora. But please, call me Gabby. All my friends do." Gabby says as he takes a seat.

"Pleased to meet you as well, Gabby," Cora acknowledged, though privately thought the man used the term 'friends' entirely too loosely.  Then again, she was accustomed to sitting down with complete strangers at a table, so she didn't stand much on ceremony.  "What sort of wager do you have in mind, Darrel?"  The cards slipped expertly through her fingers as she shuffled, cutting the cards several times as she glanced to the newcomer.

"I will say this, Daniel, Dodge is rarely boring," Morgan said. "If you do hear of anything interesting, I'd be obliged if you passed it along. Truth is, what a lawman knows is usually a hell of a lot more important than the gun he's got strapped to his hip."

Morgan tapped the newspaper in his lap. "Sometimes folks make people in my line seem more important than they really are. I was just reading about a group of passengers on the Denver-Pacific from Dodge to Denver overcame a group of bandits that blew the train tracks, meaning to rob and kill all those aboard. Those passengers took care of those outlaws to a man." He shook his head. "It takes every honest man and woman in this territory to keep order. I'm just one small part of it."

Daniel nodded sagely at what Caleb was saying about Dodge, but since he'd never been there he'd have to take his word for it. "I'm not intersted in borin', anyhow, Marshal. You c'n be assured that anythin' I find out'll find its way ta yer ears."

He looked around, "Much as I do enjoy a bit o' interestin stuff when muh feet're on th' ground, I don' wanna be part o' no rail robbery. If it comes to it, you know I'll stand tall, though."

Daniel stifled a yawn then blinked away a couple tears. "Much as I'd like ta keep chattin, Caleb, I gotta get me some shuteye. Not ta be rude, but when Gabby stops talkin', he starts snorin', if ya know what I mean. Since he's occupied, well, I can get some sleep."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:57, Mon 20 Aug 2012.

Darrel seemed to briefly study each of the people in company with him that seemed somewhat interested in the game. "Oh...just a dollar a hand. Enough to keep things interesting and no more. Can't really play proper poker without a least a little wager."

He smiled as he received his cards, and muttered something to himself. "Oh, the spirits are restless tonight." He did well on the first few hands, and though his performance didn't keep up over the course of the evening, he proved himself to be a fairly skilled player of the game - though it seemed that Coraline frequently managed to better him.

"Wow, Cora. Have you always been good at cards, or is this beginner's luck for you? And you sound like you're from back East - are you? And what brings you out to Kansas?" she eyed the others eagerly, as if eager to ask them similar questions, but brought her curious gaze back to the only other woman in the car.
This message was last updated by the player at 02:49, Thu 16 Aug 2012.

"Mrs. Linkous, do you think Mr. Linkous would like to join us?"

Coraline smiled at Jenny as she tucked her winnings into her purse.  "No one is born good at cards, Jenny.  So much of it is luck of the draw.  Don't you think so, Darrel?  Sheer luck?"  She gave the card player a glance, hearing his mutterings.

Gabby is a moderately fair player. He's clearly a little skilled, but only at campfire rules. Whenever it's his turn to deal he calls out all kinds of wild cards, such as "deuces 'n Jacks, the man with the axe, pair o' natural Sevens takes all". When he's playing straight rules, he's a fair player, but not great.

"oh, I dunno 'bout pure luck." Gabby says. "I found ya gotta know a bit 'bout what're doin'. Still, it's easy to learn."

He seemed distracted for a moment, but responded anyhow. "What? Oh, yes, I think I'm inclined to agree with Gabby here. There's luck to it, but there's skill also. If you get lucky and you don't have the skill, you might not be able to play your cards the same way. On the other hand, you could be the most skilled card player in the Americas and if you draw with poor luck you might not really make out so well."

"Why, Mr. Darling - and I love that name - my husband would most likely love to join us but he's out around Denver. I'm going to travel out there to join him. You're from back east too, aren't you? I am too. I'm from Baltimore. You're from Boston, right? Or New York? I've never been very good at telling exactly where people are from, but I can tell. Is Dodge the end of the line for you Randy? And you Cora?" She didn't want Cora to think she had forgotten about her, but Jenny was more than capable of carrying on multiple conversations at once.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Thu 16 Aug 2012.

"I've spent time in several cities back East, Mrs. Linkous, though Baltimore isn't one of them. I hear it is a charming place and apparently produces very charming inhabitants," he smiles at the young woman.

"I may stay for a time in Dodge City, my final destination is unsettled. I'm a writer and I will go wherever the story takes me. I hear there are wondrous things beiong made by Smith & Robards in Deseret. The Maze in California is also of potential interest. But I'll probably remain in Dodge for a time to see whether I can find a story there to replenish my finances.

"My finances will probably do better in the long run if I abjure the poker table," he adds with a grin and a tip of his hat to Cora.

Coraline smirked at Randolph, already shuffling her cards again.  "Probably wise, Mister Darling." Resisting the impulse to slap the chatty out of Jenny, she quirked an eyebrow at the girl.  "I hear there are some interesting games to be had in Dodge City.  No telling where I might end up after that.  Like Mister Darling, here, I have an interest in a great many things and tend to wander where the impulse takes me."

Gabby fishes out the money he'd lost up to this point with a rueful look. he slides it over to the pretty lady and shrugs. "Well, wherever the wind takes ya, I reckon you'll do well as long as they done got cards to play. You are one heck of a bluffer, if you'll pardon my French." he works the kinks out of his neck, the looks over at his dozing nephew. He smiles paternally, then turns back to the table. "Well, I reckon if we done played out o' poker, I'm willin' to try my hand at this whist game o' yours." He looks over at Randolph. "So what sort o' stories are these you're interested in? I might know a few tales to tell...been to the Maze an' back, seen plenty o' things."

As d'Alex dozed, Morgan glanced over his paper once more, listening to the banter at the nearby card game with half an ear. When he ran out of articles, or at least those that caught his interest, he gazed out the window, content to watch the grassland roll past.

Daniel snoozed through the card game, catching up on lost sleep as well as he was able. His eyes fluttered open a few times, but when he noticed the poker game was breaking up, he stifled a yawn and went over to where his uncle sat. "Heya, Uncle Gabby. Ya makin' some new friends here?" Daniel offered a smile for those sitting around the former card game, but waited for his uncle to make introductions.

"Yup! You know me! Makin' friends everywhere!" Gabby says. "Folks, this here is my nephew, Danial D'alex. Finest barber west o' the Mississippi! Danny, this here is Miss Cora, Randy, Darrel, and Mrs. Jenny." He scootches over to make room.

"Randolph Darling, Mr. d'Alex," he says, extending a hand, "This is Miss Coraline Hawthorne."

Dan vigorously shook Randy's hand, "Nice ta meetcha both, Mister Darling and Miss Hawthorne. Gabby exaggerates a bit, though. My paw is the best barber west o' the big river. So what brings ya ta Dodge? Stoppin' there or passin' through?"

"A pleasure," Cora said in greeting to Daniel.  She smiled secretively as she shuffled the cards in her hands.

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, Morgan rose from his seat and sauntered over to the growing card game. "Pardon me, folks," he said, tipping his hat, "My name's Caleb Morgan. I wonder if you wouldn't mind if I sat and watched the game a spell? I'm afraid I'm not much of a card player. I doubt it would be much of a chore for any of you to empty my wallet in short order. But I'd sure like some conversation to pass the time."

Sensing a bit of annoyance from Coraline, Jenny excused herself from the group for a minute, with the very believable statement that she'd return and chat with them again. She peered around the passenger car to look for someone else to talk to and spied another passenger who sat alone reading a paper. "The Tombstone Epitaph! I've always found that paper so entertaining. They say some of the most ridiculous things. I think it's wonderful that someone decided to start a newspaper as a joke. I mean, it must be, right? They can't actually believe that. My husband says that they do, though. What do you think?"

The man lowered the newspaper slightly to look at the talkative woman who had inserted herself into his quiet time. "I'd agree with your husband," he replied, and raised the paper back up, hoping that she'd leave, not counting on her persistence.

"I'm from Baltimore, and I'm headed to Denver to meet up with my husband. What about you?" she asked, with no doubt as to her genuine curiosity.

"From Kansas, heading west on business. Now, I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone. I need some rest," he said, and without further ado went into a pose that was obviously a pretend sleep.

"Well..." She sniffed loudly, crossed her arms, and walked over to the table where the miners sat and began chatting them up.

"Have a seat, Mr. Morgan. I would say that I am a bit disappointed that you're not for a little gamble, but in this case I think it's Miss Hawthorne here that'd be emptying out your pockets. I barely avoided such a fate just moments ago, so I can surely sympathize," he said, finishing with a congenial smile.

"Now, I think that Mr. Darling was about to explain to us the conventions of the game of whist. As I said earlier, I have only a passing familiarity with the game myself, and only that which I gleaned from reading Hoyle's Book of Games." He smiled meaningfully as he finished the sentence, and began to shuffle the deck of cards he had in hand.

As it has been known to do, the time flew by in the passenger car. Randolph explained the peculiars of whist, and they played a few rounds of that after which Darrel demonstrated another game called Shrink. Whether it was the pleasant conversation and games for some, or rest and solitude for others, a ride which otherwise might have dragged on took them into the black of night rather easily.

When just about everyone had decided to wrap up the card games, the train's brakes came on, and came on hard. A loud cacophonous screeching sound of metal grinding on metal rang throughout the train for a few long seconds that seemed more like an eternity, and then with a shudder and the sort of jerk that came only with impact, the conveyance came to an abrupt stop.

The playing cards that Darrel had been shuffling seemed to fly throughout the compartment as the gambler was thrown to one side of the car. He stood up after the train completely stopped and brushed the dirt off his shoulders and elsewhere on his clothing.

He placed a hand gingerly on Jenny Lynn's shoulder, and another on Coraline's. His contact was not overly familiar, merely reassuring - or at least intended to be so. He removed his hands after just the briefest of touches. "Not to worry folks! It’s probably just a few banditos looking to grab some quick cash. I’m sure if everyone cooperates with them, no one will get hurt."

Morgan stood, his eyes looking to the windows for any hint of activity outside. Glancing at the two entrances to the passenger car, he spoke quietly, "Daniel? Gabby? Did you boys tell me you were interested in being deputized again?"

Daniel grabbed at the armrest of the seat to keep himself from sliding around too much. His eyes narrowed at Darrel's response to the situation, and at Caleb's question Daniel nodded vigorously. "Sure thing, Marshal. Just point the way."

Daniel bent down to reach under his seat and extracted a long package that was wrapped in a dull gray cloth. A crucifix tumbled from under his shirt as he bent down, though he replaced it near his heart after he stood again.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:31, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

With the exception of Darrel Parkins, everyone in the car managed to keep their seats, though it was a mighty struggle to do so for most folks, with the exception of Randolph. The writer maintained a sense of unbelievable poise and seemed completely unaffected by the collision, sitting just as comfortably as had nothing happened in the car.

One of the burly miners jumped up and scowled at Darrel. "Sit down, ya pantywaist! The money I’ve got on me is all I have to stake me a claim in Denver, and I ain’t givin’ it up to no banditos or nobody else for that matter without a fight!"

More politely to Coraline and Jenny, he said, "Now ladies, you might wanna get down there. There's gonna be some lead flyin' soon." Nudging his buddy Joe, the two men pull out pistols and hunker down behind a seat, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble.

Randolph bristles a bit as Parkins places a hand on Coraline, but subsides when it seems the man means no offense.

"Are you quite alright, Miss Hawthorne? Mrs. Linkous?" he asks solicitously, "As our rough compatriot suggests, it would be wise to take what cover these seats will afford."

His actions suit his words, as he crouches down between the seats.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:58, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

Morgan addresses the miners, drawing his pistol as he does so. "Gentlemen, make no mistake, if these fellas want a fight, I'll be the first to give 'em one. No one's stealing from anyone if I have anything to say about it. But I'm a United States Marshal. I'd prefer to put outlaws in a cell, rather than a grave. If circumstances permit, I'd be obliged if you let me try to talk some sense into these bandits before any shooting starts."

The older of the two men looked impressed at the pronouncement that the man was with the Marshal service, but eventually shrugged, relenting. "I don't like killin' folks any more than most people, but we just don't see fit to let anybody take our money. It's all we got, you see. If you can take them into custody, well so much the better. We'll follow your lead, Marshal."

In reply to Caleb Morgan (msg # 60):

Gabby nods as well, then trundles over to his seat, reached into the overhead compartment, and withdraws his pickaxe. He regretted not having his shotgun, but that was packed away in the baggage car. He glares at Darrell. "I'm with Bill n' Joe. ain't gonna let no two-bit thievin' cocksucker take all I got in the world without a fight, pardon my french."

He looks at Caleb. "I'll back you're play. Jes' wanna be ready in case things get ugly."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:32, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

Coraline threw an amused glance Darrel's way and peered out of one of the windows to see if anything was happening outside.  "Has anyone even seen any bandits?  Or are you just assuming that we're being robbed?  Perhaps there was a cow on the tracks."  Nevertheless, she joined Randolph to seek the relative safety offered by the seats.  She flicked open the fan that was tied to her wrist and waved it lazily back and forth in her face.

"Miss Cora, that would be a pleasant surprise," Gabby grumbles, "and I have no doubt that if'n we was Back East, that would be a reasonable assumption, but out here in Kansas if a train done get's stopped, you expect trouble and git pleasantly surprised afterward if'n it's not. We're on a Union Blue line...prime huntin' fer the James gang, and I don't care what the dime novels say about him...he ain't nothin' but a murderin' scoundral. Or it could be a rival rail line...They don't call it the Great Rail Wars fer nothin'. My nephew's family an' I once had to wait three whole days fer a train 'cause some spat between the railfolk lead to a trestle gettin' blowed up an' the last train on it plungin' to a fiery demise with all aboard."

The men and women in the passenger car waited there in silence for what was only a matter of minutes, though time spent quietly waiting often stretched unnaturally into what seemed like hours. After some time, a faint sound of people shouting can be heard from towards the front of the train, though no gunshots rang out into the night.

Daniel chose not to wait for the car to be overrun before picking a better position for his particular talents. He moved forward towards the front of the car, having heard noise from that direction. He then slid off to the side so anyone entering the car from the car ahead of theirs wouldn't be able to see him until they were within striking distance.

He crouched down and tossed aside the gray cloth that had been covering his weapons. The wooden one he placed on the ground beside him, while the metal one was in his hand, warmth at its touch spreading through his fingers and up his arm.

After several mostly silent minutes passed, a jolly looking man with a belly that had clearly been years in the making walked into the passenger car with an air of authority. Everyone had seen him earlier, as he was the train's conductor.

"Sorry for the delay folks," he began before seeing the glint of several shooting irons pointed his way. "Whoa, whoa, put those things away. No need for that kinda thing. Not anymore, leastaways - at least I hope. Not with me, anyhow. Sit up, sit up." The man gave a pat to the Peacemaker that sat holstered at his waist, as if to show that he too had a gun if they needed one but that he wasn't holding it now, so everything would be alright. He rubbed his belly round and round and chuckled.

"No, not anymore. Looks like some desperadoes were waiting to ambush the train. Can’t rightly say what happened to ‘em, maybe wild animals or something, but it looks like they bought the farm before we got here. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to stop before we plowed into the barricade they put up. The engine’s derailed and the boiler’s torn up something fierce, so it looks like we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Just sit tight, the brakeman has set off to the nearest town and should be back in a few hours with some help and transportation."

Upon seeing that it was the conductor and not, in fact, someone intending harm to the good folk on the train, Daniel wrapped his weapons back up and stood near the conductor waiting for him to finish. Once the conductor completed his report, Daniel raised a single finger on his right hand, "Scuse me, Mister Conductor? Izzere anythin' I c'n do ta be o' help? I got no skill in fixin', but if yeh need extra hands, I'd be happy ta help get us movin' again."

Gabby holds his pickaxe ready to strike down any varmint that may show it's cotton-pickin' head...

He relaxes when the conductor appears, but tenses again when told about the dead bodies all around. "I don't like the sound o' that much." He looks at Caleb. "Reckon we oughta check it out?"

He squinted over at Daniel, and then shook his head. "I don't think we got much you can do about that particular problem, son. The brakeman is headed for the nearest town between here and Dodge. It's only about ten or twelve miles away, and he took a horse to go get some help, so he should be back in a few hours. They'll get this train fixed right up, don't you worry."

He heard Gabby talking, and couldn't help but comment. "As for checkin' it out, well, it's somethin' to see, that it is. They were torn up pretty bad. You’re welcome to have a look for yourself if you like—but you better have a strong stomach.”

The rotund man patted his belly, and looked toward the rear of the train. "I'm gonna go walk down the track a mile or so and put down some signals, so any oncoming trains know there's trouble in time to stop. Be back in a jiffy!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Fri 24 Aug 2012.

"Mr. Conductor, I reckon ya oughta not be alone...them animals might still be out there." Gabby says. "Would you mind some company, jest in case? I can git my shotgun out o' the baggage car if'n you wait five minutes."

Randolph rises to his feet , not looking in the least chagrined. He offers a hand to Coraline and Jenny to return to their seats. Then he resumes his seat, as well.

"Say, conductor, where'd the brakeman get the horse? Do you carry them along like lifeboats at sea?"

Morgan addressed the conductor. "Sir, I think Mr. Clarke is giving you some sound advice. I'd think it best if you weren't out there alone."

Morgan opened his coat to display his star to the conductor. "I'm United States Marshal Caleb Morgan. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a look at what happened to those boys. Perhaps it was only the work of wild animals, but I'd like a chance to examine things."

Randolph rose from his seat.

"Say, Marshall, my legs could do with a stretch. There might be something newsworthy in this, I suppose." He reaches down a flat black stetson from the overhead and bows to the ladies, "I don't imagine we'll be long."

"I 'ppreciate the concern, but I reckon not too many animals are gonna bother old Mike Jones, here. I've got a double action Peacemaker here, and I've got a shotgun in the baggage car that I was gonna pick up on the way over. Know how to use it too. Fought in the war, you see. Long time ago. Don't much like killin', though, and that's all war is so when my time was up, I figured I'd find a new trade. Put on some pounds too, sos I can see how you'd figure I'd make a good meal for a coyote or somethin'," he said, taking a moment for a deep, rumbling belly laugh at the last.

"As for horses, well, I guess you didn't bring one then. We got a horse car out back - the one right before the caboose. I suppose they're like a life preserver at that, though I never rightly thought about it that way. Never know these days, what with the rail wars such as they're callin' em or desperadoes or maybe just mechanical troubles with the engine. Good to have somethin' to ride on in case the train has a problem."

As Caleb started talking, Mike looked rightly impressed to see a United States Marshal. "Let me just say that it offers me some comfort to have a proper lawman aboard. Like I said, if you wanna take a look at it - go right ahead and get on up to the front."

He pointed out the window, and it was apparent from the view they had that the train was on something of a curve. The desert to the rear of the train is dark and empty. The view to the front of the train is obscured by a large cloud of steam leaking from the locomotive, and light from the engine’s head lamp seems to shine over the area out front as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:53, Fri 24 Aug 2012.

Daniel briefly considered riding out with the Conductor, but he didn't seem to want any company. With a shrug, he looked to Caleb and Gabby. "Le's go take a look a'what mi' be out there, then. 'Sted o' settin' here gatherin' dust."

Daniel clambered down the stairs to the train and jumped the last couple of feet down to the ground, landing in a crouch as his boots hit. He fastened his sheaths around his waist once he was free of the passenger car, and briefly looked toward the locomotive and its dim light before returning his gaze to the stairway of the railcar. He was ready to help anyone else exiting the train.

Coraline took Randolph's offer of assistance and rose from the floor, folding her fan neatly and tucking it back inside the long sleeve of her dress so that it didn't dangle.  "Well, I don't know about you, Mister Darling, but I would like to see what all the fuss is about.  I am not the least bit interested in sitting in here for hours while we wait and hope that the brakeman returns immediately rather than stopping for a few shots of whiskey and the company of a soiled dove.  Are you coming?"

Rather than waiting for his answer or protests from the others, she quickly headed for the exit.  Lifting her skirts, she navigated the stairs carefully and gestured for Daniel to help her down the last few feet.  "Mister d'Alex, if you would..."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:01, Sat 25 Aug 2012.

Daniel tilted his face up toward Cora and smiled at her. "Be happy ta help ma'am. Watcher step."   He extended a hand toward the lady and helped her get solid footing on the ground before he released her hand.

Gabby huffs at being rebuffed, but doesn't make a stink about it. Instead, he trundles off to the baggage car to get at his stowed stuff (and the shotgun within). He was a fair hand with his pick, but he'd feel better having the scattergun ready.

Retrieving the gun (which looked like an oversize Winchester), he made his way back to door, following behind the pretty Miss Cora.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:51, Sat 25 Aug 2012.

Moving with the rest of the group, Morgan asks, "Newsworthy? I'm guessing you're a writer then, Mr. Randolph. Where do you hail from, sir?"

At the front of the train, the engineer and the fireman were hard at work clearing the barricade from the tracks. The men paused only for a moment to look at the approaching passengers, giving them a distracted nod before returning to their work. It looked as if the ambushers piled a good-sized stack of railroad ties across the tracks, which must have been what derailed the train. The engine was surrounded by a huge cloud of steam and a muddy puddle of water encircled it.

At the edge of the light provided by the train’s lamp, some more railroad ties piled on both sides of the track. A body lies slumped over the top of one pile and a pair of fancy boots sticks out from behind the other.

Daniel raised a hand in greeting to the train crew. "Howdy, there. Lookin' like a bad mess out here. Yeh need help wit anythin'? I'm sure nobody wants to stay here no longer'n they have'ta."

Gabby, quiet for once, lets Danial open this conversation. He starts looking around the scene instead.

The fancy boots immediately caught Morgan's eye, as he knew of more than one outlaw that favored showy clothing. He made his way around the pile of ties to take a closer look.

The fireman took a while to respond, as he was carrying one of the heavy railroad ties off the tracks at the moment Daniel asked his question. Mopping the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief, he paused to regard the young man. "Well, if you wanna start gettin' these out the way, I s'pose that'll be fine. Still gonna take us a while to fix up the rig, but at least this part'll be over."

---

As Gabby, Caleb, and Coraline ventured further past the immediate front of the train, they moved into an area further away that still received a little of the train's light. Further away than that, it was all darkness. There they found a number of bodies littered the area, seven in total. Even at the first glance, they could see that these bodies were all bloody and gruesomely mauled. None of them were shaken by the sight of it, there was a general feeling of unease at the strange sight.

Daniel nodded at the fireman. "Be happy ta do the liftin' and draggin' while ya take care o' fixin' up that engine." From the looks of it, it needed a lot of fixing. They might end up needing alternative transport, but if that didn't arrive, the sooner they were back on track, the better.

Daniel called out to the others, "Find anything out there? Uncle Gabby? Im'a help these folk wit' some labor." The barber stripped off his shirt, not wanting to get it dirty or sweaty, and set it aside atop his duster. He flung his arms about a bit to loosen the muscles, then set to moving the railroad ties out of the way.

"What the hell?" Gabby muttered as he looked over the corpses. He looked up at the group. "Caleb! Danny! Come're 'n take a look at this!"

He nudged the body he'd found, the one with the many, many bullet holes and the rock lodged in what remained of the skull. He wanted to see that closer...but he had an ill feeling. But he still wanted to see it...dammit, old man, leave well enough alone! But he couldn't. He took a kerchief from his pocket, wrapped it around the shard of black rock, and pulled, trying to get the thing free to take a closer look.

It took a little bit of pressure on the pull to make it budge, but Gabby finally managed to dislodge the piece of rock from the hole in which it was lodged. It seemed somehow familiar to him...seemed to ring a bell.

Daniel's eyebrows shot toward the darkened night sky as his uncle started yelling about something. Given Gabby's penchant for rambling on about nothing at all, Daniel finished moving one of the railroad ties before he approached his uncle. He rubbed his hands together to get rid of some of the grime from the tie then moved close to his uncle and squinted in the dim light. "Whatcha got dere, Uncle? Ghost Rock? Gold? Gemstone?"

"I gotta lotta dead bodies here, son." he says. "Looks like all them fellers there got kilt by animals o' some kind...except this one. This one did the herky-jerky to the tune o' a dozen bullets, including one through his noggin. It don't take that many bullets to kill a man, in general, so I'm wonderin' just why they felt the need to fill this'un so full o' lead." he held up the dark rock. "Plus, I found this thing shoved halfway into the man's brainpan. Why would someone shoot a feller a dozen times then shove a hunk o' Ghost Rock in the remains o' his brain?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Tue 28 Aug 2012.

Randolph follows in the wake of the others, pausing from time to time to look away from all the bodies, while keeping one eye on Coraline. The engine and tender looked destined for many days in the repair shops, if not the scrap heap.

The dead men had been gruesomely served for certain. He looks about for their guns and their horses.

"Any idea, Marshall, what sort of animal might have killed so many men without any of them having a chance to flee?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:29, Tue 28 Aug 2012.

As they all begin to pay more attention to the scene around them, some things catches the light of the train's headlamp briefly. Among the fallen are the weapons of the fallen. Two single action Colt Peacemakers, two Winchester Lever-Action shotguns, and two Winchester '73 rifles are scattered around the immediate area.

Daniel's brow furrowed a bit at his Uncle's news, and he frowned as he started to examine the bodies. After a brief inspection, he responded to Randolph's question, "Looks like a human animal. Bite marks'r made by people's teeth, not any other kinda animal. The slices out o' the flesh are made by claws, though. Can't rightly tell what sort. That fella that got shot got fatally shot way more'n once. Looks like overkill." Daniel shuddered a bit as his imagination took over a little at the possibilities.

Darling picks up the revolvers, opening them to see whether they've been fired and how many times.

"Mr. Morgan, are you finding any sign of these fellow's horses?"

Caleb shook his head slowly as he quietly surveyed the grisly scene. "The only thing I am certain of is that these men were rushed from all sides," he said in response to Randolph's first question. "It must have been one hell of a quick ambush. They didn't have much time to respond."

He studied the body of the man that had been shot repeatedly. "This kind of thing, it suggests something personal to me. Like someone was after these men specifically."

Morgan walked around the carnage in a widening circle, studying the ground to see if he could discern where the bandits' horses had gone.

"But why shove ghost rock into a man's skull?" Gabby wondered. "Chunk this big must cost eight, ten dollars, easy. Kinda expensive ta just toss away."

He ambled over to the weaponry and picked up one of the shotguns. "Mighty fine shootin' irons these boys had." he mutters. "They must've been successful bandits, afore they got attacked and et on."

Coraline surveyed the scene, though the moment they stepped within the light of the train's lamp, she flicked open her fan and started to wave it in front of her face.  The only thing unsettling about the scene was that it wasn't really unsettling.  Certainly, it was gory and gruesome, but her stomach wasn't turning quite as badly as she thought it should.  Perhaps because the bodies were so fresh and hadn't begun to smell.

Surveying the scene, she was only momentarily distracted by Daniel removing his shirt, but Gabby's call about something interesting drew her attention.  She frowned and tilted her head a fraction, studying the man riddled with bullet holes.  "I thought ghost rock was supposed to be valuable.  Why would anyone canon blast one into a dead man's head?"

Daniel shrugged at the idle speculation, "You folk can prolly come up with better stories'n me. But if these're thieves an' they stole some ghostrock from somebody, mebbe that somebody figgered it was poetic justice or somesuch." He shrugged, then thought for a moment about how unlikely his hypothesis was. Still, maybe it would get someone else thinking on the right track.

"Mebbe it was some kinda injun voodoo ritual." Gabby said. "Like in the Tombstone Epitaph."

As he looks at the guns, Darling finds yet another two Peacemakers closer to some of the bodies and out of the light.  All of the pistols and both the shotguns contain only spent cartridges. He finds that the rifles appear to be half empty.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:19, Wed 29 Aug 2012.

Morgan shook his head in frustration, a scowl on his face. "If those horses left a clear trail, I can't spot it in the dark," he said. He crouched down next to the body of the man who had been shot, studying his features, looking for anything distinctive, any feature that stood out that might help him identify the dead man.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:19, Wed 29 Aug 2012.

Daniel twisted his face a bit at his uncle's suggestion. It sounded even worse than his, "Injuns don' practice voodoo. They respect some sorts o' nature spirits instead. Remember, I got some o' that Injun blood in me." It didn't sound like he had taken any offense at the voodoo suggestion. But all the same, He did have some Native American blood flowing through his veins, and voodoo sounded like black magic of the sorts that Daniel didn't like.

"Anybody search the bodies theirselves? Mebbe there's somethin' important in a pocket or somethin'."

Morgan turned his attention from the corpse to d'Alex. "Daniel, I wonder if I could trouble you to look at this fella a bit closer?" he asked, gesturing to the bullet ridden corpse.

Morgan shook his head, genuinely mystified. "This man's skin it's...well it's dry and tough, like old leather. His face is shriveled up and wrinkled, as though all the moisture's left him. His insides, at least what I can see of them, look the same way. And this blood. I hate to say it, but I've seen a fair amount in my time and I've never seen any this dark."

He gazed at the dead man. "It's not like any corpse I've ever run across."

Or mebbe somethin' not in a pocket. "Now that is odd." He walked over to take a closer look at the man's skin and blood as suggested by Caleb.

Darling pulls some papers from the pocket of one of the dead men, squinting at it in the light from the locomotive.

"Morgan, you might want to look at these."

He's holding a pay stub from the Wasatch Railroad and a telegram that reads:

Wilder on train bound Dodge—STOP—Apprehend Wilder and any
accomplices—STOP—Recover specimens intact and ship to SLC—STOP]

Gabby ambles over and takes a look at the papers. He whistles. "Bounty hunters? Huh. Who's Wilder? and what's it mean, 'specimens'?"

Daniel examined some of the bullet holes more closely and compared them to the wounds on the other. "Damned strange, this. The guy that been shot's been dead for, well, quite some time. These others? No more'n two hours. That'd mean there were two differn't attacks done here." He furrowed his brow, "Anyone else find it strange that animals wouldn't have tore up any bodies that lay here? If twere and animal attack, we'd see all these guts opened up an' eaten. I wonder..."

He looked about at the others, "What kinda bullets were the men attacked by animals firin'?"

Coraline tilted her head to read the telegram in Randolph's hand and pursed her lips in thought.  "Very interesting.  Whoever this Wilder person is, they thought he'd be on our train.  Thinking about those that shared our car with us, I have an inkling of who this man might be.  I doubt he is one of the miners, but there was one gentleman clutching a medical bag that looked especially fearful when the train stopped.  He was white as a sheet and looked genuinely scared for his life.  Did you notice him?"

Gabby, being in the general vicinity and the talkative sort, thinks back, but he does not, in fact, recall that gentleman, having been too involved in the game at the time. "Nope. Can't say as I do. He still there? Mayhaps he's got some ideer o' what's goin' on."

As he read over the telegram Darling showed him and listened to Hawthorne's observations, Morgan nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am. The nervous gent with the paper, who went to great pains to be left alone. I recall the man, but honestly, I hadn't thought him important." He glanced at Hawthorne. "Not much slips by you, does it ma'am?"

Morgan began walking back toward the passenger car. "You reckon he's still aboard? I think we may need to have a word with him, if he hasn't skedaddled."

"Morgan!" calls Randolph, hurrying to catch up. He continues more quietly, "I suggest you go on by the car on the opposite side from where the man was sitting and come in the back. I'll go in the front end and occupy his attention."

Daniel sighed heavily, then began walking around collecting the weapons that had been dropped by dozens of dead hands. He had no idea what caliber bullets these things fired. Or even what bullet hole sizes each caliber created. He pondered the bullet-riddled corpse for a bit while squatting down next to it.

"How very strange."

He stood up near the corpse and guns and looked over at the others. "What are you all yammerin' about?"

"Miss Hawthorne," calls Darling over his shoulder, "You'd best stay with Gabby!"

She turned to Daniel as Randolph and Caleb headed for the train.  "They are going to see if this Wilder person from the telegram is on the train.  I have a suspicion that he is.  What have you found?"

Daniel adopted a look like he hadn't a clue in the world as to what Cora was talking about. Which was really easy to accomplish since he didn't have any idea what she was talking about as he was engrossed in a little bit of forensics as the others were all reading the telegram. "What tel'gram is this now? And from who? And who had it? And wha' didit say?"

As the group of them returned to the passenger car where they had been earlier, they heard a large smashing sound as if glass had been broken followed by the terrified scream of a woman, and then two gunshots. Rushing up to the entrance, they could see that the remaining passengers had turned over some of the seats to barricade themselves in away from the outside. At either end of the car, moving towards the barricade stood a group of figures with dark, leathery skin and wrinkled faces. They held no weapons but their hands bore dark black claws like talons and in each of their foreheads could be seen a hole with something black stuck in it. From the front end of the car, four figures moved towards the barricade, and five figures did the same from the back end.

Daniel's eyes quickly went back to the passenger car and the screams and sounds of shattering. He unsheathed his sword, a red gemstone set in the hilt gleaming unnaturally, as if it were were hungry for something. "Let's take these things down, " he growled, mostly to his uncle and the marshal.

Randolph's first thought is for Cora's safety. He looks back along the line of cars for her and will keep himself close to her, whatever happens.

He draws his revolver.

Gabby looked over at the shooting and dropped the empty shotgun, raising his full one and heading for the sounds of trouble. "Well, shit!" he says to no one in particular. He follows Danial, wondering why his nephew didn't draw a gun like a sane person...then recalled the bullet-ridden corpse he'd just seen.

"Everyone take your shots carefully," Morgan said, drawing his peacemaker. "We don't want to hit any passengers by mistake."

A sudden thought hits Gabby at Caleb's words. "Clementine! She's still in there!" he wheezed.

Coraline hurried with the others at the sound of the commotion and wanted to scream herself as she caught sight of the the horrid creatures harassing the passenger car.  Feeling as though she'd been punched in the gut, she struggled to draw a breath.  Her tightly laced corsets didn't help in the slightest.  Behind the fan that she'd unfurled, seven ghostly cards appeared and then dissolved into nothing.  Moments later, a thin stream of nearly invisible ghostly white energy shot from her palm toward the leathery creature nearest her.

Gabby rushed around the back end, heading for the larger group. He stopped a repsectable distance away and raised his shotgun. The things hadn't noticed him yet, but it was only a matter of time. Well, he'd deal with them if'n they came after him.

The one they'd found had been shot many times. One of those shots had put it down, but apparently not any ol' hit would do. The Ghost Rock had been in the thing's brainpan. He could see more in each o' these ones, too. Might as well aim for that, though the buckshot would probably take a whole head off if'n he hit...

Inside the passenger car, the yellow lab raced about. She didn't like what she smelled. Not at all. The intruders smelled of bad meat. She hopped on one of the barricades and howled, trying to scare the Bad Meat Things away, her body tensed to spring away if they came near her.

Darling stops in his tracks as he catches sight of the once-impossible horrors clustered around the car. he steadies himself against the side of the car ahead of theirs, hoping Coraline doesn't see his suddenly-inadequate revolver shaking.

When the young woman halts just in front of him and a shaft of light springs from her hand to strike one of the monsters, he is too amazed to contain his shout of "Cora!"

]
This message was last edited by the player at 13:26, Fri 31 Aug 2012.

For an instant, Morgan felt his stomach go weak at the sight of the leathery monsters assaulting the car. For an instant, he felt an overwhelming urge to turn tail and run from the horrors. Something he hadn't felt since Missouri. Since the war.

He gritted his teeth, anger welling up inside him. "Get hold of yourself," he snarled inwardly, fighting with every ounce of his mettle to shake off his fear. As the strange, ghostly white light bloomed nearby he raised his pistol, took aim at the creature he had the clearest shot at, and fired.

The figures within the train compartment seemed to loom over the passengers, who were almost diminished in size as they hunkered down within their barricade. Each of them had a fragment of what looked like something black spiked into the middle of their foreheads. These figures were not slow and mindless in their movements, acting quickly and decisively when they did, but there was something of an almost thoughtful deliberation to all of their actions that made their presence all the more disquieting.

From outside of the car, a thin stream of something that was not quite invisible, but white and almost like smoke in its translucence streaked into the car to sear one of the dark figures within. It swirled about the thing, capturing nearly its entire chest and searing off the clothing without and the outer layer of skin. When it dissipated it revealed toughened internal muscle, bone and organs as if the thing had been flayed. The recipient of Coraline's wrath seemed to stop and slow somewhat as it happened, and then it turned and made eye contact with her.

A gunshot called out from the night, taking the another one in the leg. The Marshal's bullet ripped through the calf, and it seemed to stagger but it definitely didn't stop its approach on the barricade, though it did pause to take a look at Caleb before it continued.

With a feral growl, the bare-chested Daniel moved quickly towards the closest walking corpse that hadn't already been engaged by one of his friends. He swung the sword in a tight circle before grabbing the hilt with both hands and swinging at neck height of the unholy demonspawn that threatened the people on the train. The head of the thing popped off its shoulders and flew to the opposite side of the train car smashing against the wall, though didn't spill any blood.

The gemstone in the hilt momentarily flashed red a half-heartbeat before Daniel connected with his target. Daniel screamed in an adrenaline fueled rage. "Come ta me, demonspawn! Test the strength of yer master here." He set his feet on the ground in a classic defensive defensive posture, eyes wide open, waiting for the onslaught with something akin to glee.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:27, Fri 07 Sept 2012.

Amidst the chaos, a severed head flying past her face was the last thing she needed. She huddled in the center of the barricade, looking around her. Bill and Joe were there, and Darrel, and the dog. In all the chaos and confusion, she couldn't recall what happened to the other one - the rude man who wouldn't talk to her.

And suddenly, something happened to one of them. And there was another gunshot. And then the boy who she thought had said had been a barber earlier jumped in there with a sword! Sweet Jesus, where did he get that? Do people still use those? she thought. It was all she could do to distract herself from the strange figures that were moving in towards them.

"Don't worry about me, Randolph!  Just shoot the bloody things!" Cora couldn't do anything about who saw what or how they interpreted what they'd seen.  Twice more, phantom cards appeared in her hand, hidden by the fan she carried, and twice more, something ghostly white -- nearly invisible to the naked eye -- struck the creature she'd aimed at before.  The damage they caused was utterly disappointing and she swore under her breath in a very unladylike manner.

The young barber's sword neatly severed the head from one of those figures, sending its skull flying towards the back end of the car, crashing into the wall and falling to the floor. The headless figure slumped to the ground, unmoving. Of the three that left alive at the front of the car, two of them turned on Daniel and one swiped over the barricade at Jenny, who screamed and ducked, almost avoiding the blow altogether though at the last the edges of those claws sliced through the shoulder of her modest dress, though those wicked claws did little more to the woman than draw blood. Of those that faced down the barber, one missed - but one seemed likely to strike Daniel in a very vulnerable area.

At the back end of the car, two of them attacked the miners over the barricade, while one nimbly jumped over the barricade and made for Darrel with purpose. Of the two that remained one leaped out of the car toward Gabby and clawing at the old man's arm, though the other didn't even spare a glance for the miner, skittering toward the rest of the group.

Joe had hunkered down behind the barricade they quickly erected and had armed himself with the pistol he kept close by his side whenever he expected trouble. Or even when he didn't. "Bill, ain't no way we gonna let these - " *sniff, sniff* "Bill, do you smell ghost rock? I think I'mma git me some o' that rock over these things dead bodies." He raised his pistol at the closest of the clawed attackers and shot it square in the head. He nodded at his own skill.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:28, Mon 03 Sept 2012.

Bill nodded at Joe's proclamation and tried to do likewise, though his aim wasn't quite as good. He targeted one of creatures, and fired without comment, hitting the creature in the lower portion of its center mass.

Darrel, looked over at Jenny as the beasts started to climb over the barriers, "Keep out of reach, Jenny. I'll see if I can't slow these things down a bit."

Though no one could say precisely from where they came, the man found one hand full of a small pistol, and the other a dagger. He thrust the former toward the advancing creature and squeezed a well-concealed trigger. Hot lead flew into the creature's midsection, though it didn't seem to slow it significantly.

Cora continued to swear as the cards she pulled weren't enough to do a damn thing to the ungodly creatures... and they were getting closer.

Morgan's eyes searched the chaos, his anger helping him remain calm as the creatures advanced. He took his next clear shot, firing at the nearest monster.

Darling steps away from the illusory shelter of the car, taking a position just behind Cora and far enough to the side that he can try to intercept any attacker.

[ooc: I will sleeve my action ready to shoot the first critter that attacks Cora.]

Joe's shot to the head, seemed to stagger the one that was attacking him. Both Bill and Daniel's shots missed entirely, resulting only in damage to the passenger car itself.

Daniel easily parried and sidestepped the attack by one of the creatures, though as he twisted out of the way of that assault, he stepped right into the claws of the other. A mistake he hoped that he wouldn't repeat, but one that left a bright red line across his bare belly, just below the ribs. His eyes bulged a little, though more from anger than the pain.

His next attack came at a lower level than the first, slicing into the midsection of one of the beasts. Perhaps he could cut the thing in two, though he doubted even that would stop it. Might make it marginally less effective, though. The additional adrenaline added to Daniel's system by the scratch across his belly added a little extra oomph to his assault.

Gabby shook the thing off, took a step forward, and took his shot. But the thing ducked. Snarling, Gabby stepped back in, shoving the barrel of his fun right up into the critter's face. "Go back to Hell!" he shouts, pulling the trigger...but the thing grabbed the barrel and shoved it to the side.

Gabby swore, and backed off as far as he could.

Morgan couldn't help but be impressed with the courage everyone had shown. These horrors were enough to make any man weak in the knees, yet everyone in the fight had stood firm, doing their best to push the monsters back.

Clenching his jaw, Morgan trained his revolver on one of the monster's heads and squeezed off another shot.

Clementine, inside the cabin, dives over the barricade and leaps at the nearest one of the things, the one the stocky miner man had shot. She jumps at the thing, tearing at the monster's throat with her teeth. She gets a good grip, worries a bit, but the foulness of the flesh beneath her tongue makes her gag, and she's forced to drop away and retch before her jaws can do more injury.

Just as Joe thought he was gonna be done for, a dog came flying from over his shoulder, ripping into the neck of the clawed menace in front of him. Jaws clutching its throat, the canine seemed to nearly recoil though not before something made a loud snapping sound and the thing slumped over, motionless.

His fellow miner Bill wasn't so lucky, as a swipe from those black claws that assailed him tore open his shirt, drawing blood. His response was of course to swear like a miner. "Goddammit! Fuckin' claws tore me open!" It didn't look a killing wound, but it wasn't just a scratch either. It looked like it stunned him into silence, and he leaned back down behind the barricade, on his elbows looking ready to completely surrender but something seemed to quicken a spark in him and he was sitting up holding his gun in another moment.

Towards the front of the car, the young barber seemed at odds with two of them. One of them seemed to grasp for his sword, but missed. Another lunged at him with claws, coming away only with a light scratch on his leg, though a dark stain appeared near the fabric of his trousers.

Another of the Marshal's bullets rang out into the night, ripping off an ear from one of them. As if in retaliation, it drew its attention away from Jenny and leaped out of the car, claws outstretched. One hand missed, but the other hand got a swipe at his leg.

Closer to the back door, Gabby seemed to show himself a spry miner. Despite an appearance of advanced age, he managed to avoid being struck, making the thing attacking him look clumsy. Nearer the front, Coraline did the same, revealing herself to be no ordinary woman.

Coraline was beginning to despair that lady luck had left her, but her next hex gave her some hope that the fight hadn't completely left her.  Trying to stay clear of those dangerous claws that seemed to draw blood so easily, she wrestled with her own personal demon and smirked as she bested the creature.  This time.  Twice over, she pulled something useable, though the second hand made her grimace.  Twice, the ghostly light, nearly invisible in the chaos, left her to slam into the head of the creatures nearest her.

Morgan managed a curse as the creature flung itself at him. As its claws sought him out, the Marshal did his level best to dodge the monster's strikes. "They're no different than a bunch of riled up ruffians," he tried to tell himself, "Only a damn sight faster and uglier."

As the creature thrashed at him, Morgan managed to raise his revolver, firing another shot at the beast's face.

Clementine, in the meanwhile, spat out the nasty taste of the Bad Meat Men. She saw one of the miner get attacked, and leaped on his attacker, clawing and biting ferociously. Unfortunately, she didn't get much of a purchase on the thing, but she landed between it and Bill, growling menacingly at the Bad Meat Man.

Darling takes a shot at the critter closest to Coraline.

Daniel sighed heavily at the next attack that got through his guard. Apparently he didn't nap long enough, as he found his defensive posture somehow slipped again. The scratch on his leg didn't bother him nearly as much as his ripped trousers.

With his previously puissant assault appearing ineffectual, he instead decided that perhaps giving the beast a haircut would be the best idea after all. He looped his sword toward the thing's noggin, but only succeeded in lopping off a few strands of his hair, rather than the entire scalp as he hoped.

Darrel and the miners all fired their weapons at their assailants, but their lead all lodged in the guts of the things, not even slowing them down.

Darrel dropped the small gun he had produced and flipped his knife over to his right hand, brandishing it in front of himself to try to defend his body from any more physical assault by the beasts.

Randolph fires again at the monstrosity closest to d'Alex.

Coraline stumbled backward as Randolph surged forward, perfectly content to let him have a clean line of sight on the creatures.  Still hidden behind her fan, phantom cards appeared and dissolved in an eyeblink.  Wrestling the manitou to her will, she sent another tendril of ghostly light toward the beast nearest her.

"Goddamn thing!" Gabby grumbles, stumbling back a few paces. He once more took aim, but didn't wait more than a heartbeat before sending a load of buckshot into the monster's face.

The valiant Clementine continued trying to protect the stricken miner, leaping and tearing at the Bad meat Man's face.

After a few frustratingly close misses, Daniel finally made solid contact with the noggin of one of the things, slicing in though what had once been a healthy ear, and exiting at the jawline on the other side. Only one remained near him, which now had his entire focus. His eyes narrowed as he considered how the beast moved.

Seeing the creature that attacked him fall, Morgan returned his attention to the car. He took aim at the first of the monsters he had a clear shot at and and fired another round, but his aim failed him, the beast moving as he squeezed the trigger.

There was a pause in the hail of gunfire and gunsmoke that filled the night along with the hacking and flashing sword and the quiet streaks of nearly invisible ghostly white light that seemed almost as if they had been but figments of everyone's collective imagination. For a moment it was quiet as the grave, the only sound being the low rumbling growl of Clementine in the back of the car facing down the last one of those things that was still standing.

That near silence was shattered as the roof of the passenger car was rent open. In the sparse moonlight, something large was visible upon the roof of the passenger car. It's shape was manlike in height and in form, but its chest and arms were massive. Those large arms reached down into the car to grab Jenny and begin pulling her up, and her scream tore back into night.

Gabby whooped as the monster's head was blown apart, but the appearance of the new beast and the screams of Mrs. Linkous killed his ebullition. He switched to miner's curses and ran back toward the train, fumbling for a shell to load his gun. Only two shots He thought to himself. Gotta make them count.

After slicing the top off one of the things, Daniel whirled about, looking to see who had been hurt. He saw Bill clutching a badly sliced leg, and was about to make for the miner when the roof split open. When something started pulling Jenny up, Daniel again raised his sword. He yelled at the creature, "Oh no ya don't, hellspawn!"

He attempted to hack the shadowy form of an arm right off the thing that grabbed Jenny, but didn't manage to make terribly solid contact. Still, he had begun the process of freeing the poor woman. "Come down 'ere and fight, coward! Rather'n hidin' behind her skirt!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:25, Fri 07 Sept 2012.

Morgan let his pistol drop to his side, blinking away the acrid smoke that hung in the air. Believing the threat had passed, he entered the car, moving to check the passengers that had been trapped within it. As he did, he heard Daniel call out and he looked up, his eyes widening in sudden shock as he glimpsed the creature pulling Miss Linkous through the car's roof.

"There! There!" Randolph shouts incoherently, pointing with his left hand at the thing on the roof, eyes showing white all around.

I need a bigger gun.

When the roof ripped open and the creature above yanked Jenny off of her feet, Cora was staggered by what she saw.  She placed a hand on one of the seats nearby, frozen in shock at the horrific appearance of the massive monster above them.  It took several moments for her to come to her senses, but Jenny's screams and Daniel's taunts quickly brought her back to reality.  Eyes wide, she glanced to the others and realized one of the other creatures in the passenger car was still alive.  Distracted, she couldn't seem to concentrate to pull a decent hand.  The phantom cards fizzled behind her fan the first attempt.  The second try was almost as bad, but she used what she'd been dealt to make another weak attempt.

Daniel screamed something unintelligible at this creature of the night, his angry spittle floating through the air and landing harmlessly on the ground of the passenger car.

The gem in his sword flashed a bright red as he again launched a pair of attacks at the thing, striking it once just above its legs before whirling and connecting solidly with its head.

"Drop her!" he finally intelligibly screamed at the thing, eyes looking ready to pop out his head. A vein began to bulge above his left eye, and his grip on his sword was so tight that his knuckles had turned completely white.

Gabby huffed and puffed and hustled up to the car. He stepped into the cabin, and took aim at the thing, trying to shut out the insanity of the monster who had Mrs. Linkous. Instead of thinking about what he was seeing, he shut it all down, concentrating, waiting for a clear shot at the thing's head.

With another scream from Jenny and a thud, she was dropped to the floor at the sword blow to the Thing's arm, and at the shot to the face, the Thing that had tried to abscond with the woman bellowed in pain and leaped off the top of the train to the ground and began sprinting towards the woods.
This message was last updated by the player at 17:53, Mon 10 Sept 2012.

Just before the thing left the glow of light from the train, Darling squeezes off a shot.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Mon 10 Sept 2012.

Morgan followed Darling's example, firing a shot at the fleeing monster as it made for the woods.

Clementine continued to growl fiercely at the lone remaining attacker in the passenger car.

Daniel's breath caught for a moment as the thing dropped Jenny and moved away with great haste. He quickly moved toward the last upright beast still in the car with him and took a wild swing at it, though the tight quarters and injured folk made the attack difficult.

He spared a little concentration for Gabby as he moved, "If yah wanna chase that thing, Jock's prolly champin' at the bit ta stretch's legs. Might get a bit skittish around a creature like that, though. I gotta look after Bill and Jenny afore doin' anythin' else."

First he needed to take care of the last corpse, though, and Bill's color was draining.

Clementine backs and leaps at the thing, but, just like Danial, the close quarters and presence of injured make her attacks ineffective.

Gabby checks his shotgun. One shell left. He shook his head. "No, boy. By the time we done get any horses together, that thing'll be long gone. Just a waste o' time and ammo if'n we go hunting fer it in the dark, not to mention that it might double back on us an' try again. No, I reckon we oughta sort this thing out, then tend to the wounded. These folks need a doctor more than an avenger."

He doesn't mention the fact that he'd never actually learned to ride a horse, though Danial might remember the disaster from last time he'd tried (which involved a carelessly placed rope, a long drag through the Topeka market, a fruit stand, and three terrified chickens)

Morgan took aim at the remaining beast's head, his hands still unsteady. Listening to Daniel and Gabby talk, he nodded in agreement. "There's no way in hell we'd get mounted up in time to give that thing a real chase. I reckon I might be able to track it, though."

He squeezed off a shot. The monster, still struggling with Clementine, moved as he did so, and the bullet missed. Morgan cursed, opening the empty pistol to reload it.

Daniel readjusted his grip, swung his sword in a small arc, and then straight down toward the thing in an overhead chop. The weapon's gem gleamed brightly as Daniel connected with the center of the skull of the beast, slicing its head into two nearly identical halves.

With a heavy breath, he looked at the thing to be certain that it was no longer moving, then sheathed his sword. With the fading of his adrenaline, Daniel finally had a spike of pain shoot through his belly that he couldn't ignore, and placed a hand on the oozing wound with a wince.

He then turned around to go toward the others. Bill was still trying to stifle some bleeding, and Jenny had been dropped. The barber went to the side of the bleeding miner to assess the damage. He looked to his uncle, and then Jenny in turn. "Uncle Gabby! Get muh barber case. Missus Linkous! Are ya okay!?"

He then looked at Bill, who now had help from Joe in trying to stanch the bleeding. "Yer gonna be fine. We'll git this bleedin' stopped, git ya sowed up, and you'll be minin' afore ya know."

He then turned his head over his shoulder and yelled at no one in particular, "Clean cloth'd be nice, too." Again he winced from the claw marks that he wore.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Wed 12 Sept 2012.

Jenny looked unharmed but she looked white as a ghost, staring towards the front of the passenger car and hugging herself. Daniel's query seemed to wake her out of a stupor of sorts, and she shook her head, then looked up at him. "He was...it was gonna take me, like it took that man." She pointed towards another part of the train, the direction she had been staring in. The window had been crudely broken open, and the passenger that had brushed aside the chatty woman's inquiries was no longer in the cabin.

"I'll be fine..." She shivered, still staring at where the other man had been seated.

Two men from the front of the train wandered into the passenger car. The sooty looking fireman held a shovel and the engineer held a pistol. They looked in a fairly sorry shape themselves, but neither looked badly hurt. "Looks like they hit y'all down here, too," the engineer observed.

The conductor returned to the train with a shotgun in hand moments later, looking about as if expecting to still find a threat around. "I turned and ran back when I heard the shooting. What in God's name happened here?"

The fireman answered him in a brief, clipped sentence. "Don't rightly know. These fellas came from outta nowhere and attacked us."

Gabby did as asked, reaching up into the overhead compartment for Danial's supplies. he massaged the small bite on his arm...it didn't hurt him too much, but he'd want to get it looked at. But there were so many hurt worse than him right now...

He brought the kit over to Danial, while Clementine raced up to the newcomers, growling a bit.

"Clementine! Stop! They's friendly!" he shouted, but Clementine had already sniffed them, and her growl became a happy bark. The energetic dog then ran over to Mrs. Linkous, who seemed sad to the lab. She began licking the woman's hand.

"Sounds like Wilder and his mysterious Samples, whatever they are, got took." Gabby mutters as he looks over the broken window. "We oughta look for him when we head out to hunt the beast down tomorrow, though I can't say I think highly o' his chances."

He looks up at the conversation between the rail workers. "Things. Not fellas, things. Mebbe they was human once, but humans don't take the kind o' punishment these took an' stay standin', and they certainly don't have the strength ta rip a roof open." He points to the large rip in the ceiling.

"Your dog saved my life, old timer," Bill said gruffly, from the pain. He kinda just sat there while Joe and Daniel looked into the treating of his wounds.

"Clementine I guess it is. I thank you both for that."

---

The fireman surveyed the bodies, and shivered a bit, looking away. "We didn't exactly get a good look at them out there. Just thought they was some crazy folks. I don't even wanna look at them no more, tell the truth."

"Thankee, Uncle." Daniel took the bag and dug through it for some crumpled bandages, and hurriedly wound it around his midsection before he started to look at Bill's wounds.

Unfortunately, he didn't do a very good job at bandaging himself, and the bandaging started to become blood-soaked and useless in short order.

He did a bit of a better job of stopping Bill's bleeding, getting Joe to apply pressure on the bandage after Daniel had wrapped it about his leg. He got the miner seated and gave the leg a soothing pat.

From under his seat, Joe managed to produce a bottle of inexpensive whiskey. Opening it, he took a pull of it and gave some to Bill, then offered it to Daniel. "Where'd you get a sword anyhow? I think I ain't never seen a sword like that before. My brother has a cavalry sabre, though that's a bit different, ain't it?"

Daniel touched the sword's hilt absentmindedly, then shrugged at Joe's question, "Got it from muh paw. He's purty good with it hisself, but he thought that I needed it more fer this trip. Guess paw was right again, eh?"

Randolph re-loaded the empty chambers of his pistol, frowning at the way his fingers were still trembling. He thrust it into the holster beneath his coat and climbed up into the coach. Seeing that Daniel was busy bandaging wounds, he shifted his attention to the area around the broken window.

Morgan finished reloading his peacemaker and returned it to its holster. "You folks sure showed a helluva lot of grit facing these things down," he said. He glanced over at Daniel and grinned. "Remind me not to make you mad when you've got that thing in your hand." He handed the young man a clean bandana he kept in his jacket.

He slowly built a smoke as he turned his attention to the dead creatures. Unbidden, his mind went back to the war, to Missouri. To the first time he'd ever laid eyes on something he couldn't explain. Even in the wake of it, he'd thought that such terrors were rare. The kind of thing a man saw once in a lifetime. He'd believed that somehow, someday, the world would all make sense again.

How naive he'd been.

Lighting his smoke with a match, he joined Darling at the window, nodding at Gabby's suggestion. "Yep. We need to go hunt for him, but I'm afraid you're right, Gabby. We may not like what we find when we catch up."

Gabby grins at Bill. "She's a good dog." he heads over to Miss Linkous and Clementine and pats the lab on the head. "Ain't ya, girl? Good dog!" Then he pulls out a small done and gives it to Clementine to gnaw on.

"Heh. That's my nephew. Sword in one hand, doctor's bag in the other. Got the wrath o' the Lord and his mercy all in one." Gabby says as he rubs his bloody bite wound. As everyone was gathering by the window, he ambled over to see what he could see.

In the aftermath, Cora had quietly collapsed into one of the passenger seats, frantically waving her fan in her face.  While she had escaped any lasting harm, the fight -- especially the horror she'd seen atop the train -- had rattled her to some extent.  She stared off in the direction that the creature had taken and a chill traveled down her back at the thought of meeting it again.  Once was one too many times.

Blinking into reality as the other men entered the car, she rose and closed her fan, tucking it back inside her sleeve.  Taking a breath, she smoothed her dress down the flat of her stomach and moved to where Jenny was seated.  "It is gone now and you're safe, Jenny.  Do you recall if the man had his medical bag with him when that monster took him?"

Just at that moment, the assiduous search conducted by Randolph Darling turns up a bag tucked under the seat where Wilder had been sitting, near where the window had been shattered open.

"I don't think so...No, actually I'm certain that he didn't have it. He seemed as bewildered as we were about the whole thing," she said to Coraline. "If he had one, he probably left it behind."

---

The fireman peered over to look in more detail at one of the dead bodies, and shivered a bit at the sight of the thing's head, a shard of something black embedded within it. "I reckon these must be the things that tore up those banditos up front," the fireman said. "And not wild animals. I saw one o' them with a hole in its head like this one has, 'cept it didn't have nothin' in it. Awful strange. I don't really wanna think about all this 'cept I s'pose I gotta. At least until we get this train fixed up and ready go to again."

Darling calls Caleb aside and shows him the contents of the bag.

After wrapping Bill with a would dressing and soothing his aches, Daniel looked down to see that his own bandaging had come apart, and was all bloody to boot. He unwrapped it in a hurry and then looked up at Caleb as the law man approached. He smiled and nodded at the clean handkerchief, which he expected would be useful for his uncle's hand wound. "Can't imagine yeh'd be able ta get me so mad as i was at those...things. An' I dunno 'bout usin' that sword on the likes of yeh, Marshal. Walkin' corpses, though, well, them's a diff'rnt story. Person'd have to be a bad fella fer me ta have ta chop 'em ta bits, ya know? I gotsa a wooden sword so's I can smack reg'lr folk upside th'head if'n they cause reg'lr troubles."

Daniel looked at Bill for a moment to make certain he appeared stable, then went back to his own wounds. His first poor attempt at bandaging didn't work, so he decided to try sewing it up.

He took the flask of whiskey and knocked back a quick hit, then pulled out the needle and suture thread, slowly pulling it through the skin of his belly that had been split. He went back and forth through it several times, then tied it off at the end.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:25, Fri 14 Sept 2012.

Giving Darling his full attention, Morgan carefully studied the contents of the bag the writer had discovered. He took a long draw on his smoke as he considered what he'd seen, exhaling slowly.

"Mr. Darling, you'll have to forgive me for speculatin', but the way I see things is like this. This Wilder was involved in some bad business. The kind of thing, truth be told, I can't even get my mind around. But I imagine there's several folks out there that would have an interest in such. That would want to avail themselves of Mr. Wilder's peculiar expertise."

"The bounty hunters went to a lot of trouble to try to stop this train and snatch Wilder. These things attacked those boys and made certain that didn't happen. Then they managed to capture him themselves and tried their damnedest to make certain no one followed. These creatures, they were following someone's orders, way I see it. Like hounds obeying their master. They were sent for Wilder."

He sighed, taking one last pull on his smoke before crushing it out. "I'm obliged to go find Wilder, but I'll need help doing it." He glanced around at the shattered car and the gathered survivors, then back at Darling. "There's this to consider too, Mr. Darling. I wonder if Wilder was meeting someone in Dodge? Someone who was interested in his wares?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Mon 17 Sept 2012.

"Well, whichever way you want to play, it, Caleb, I got your back." Gabby says. "I reckon anyone who raises the dead is someone we ought not be leavin' to their own devices." He looks at the scrap of Ghost Rock he'd pulled from the first walker. "Wonder how this little thing fit in to this."

Daniel's teeth were still gritted together as Caleb started to talk. He got a confused look on his face when he mentioned Wilder. He was just about finished applying a bandage to his leg when Caleb stopped talking. "Ya know I always gotcher back, there, Marshal. I purty much agree w'Uncle Gabby. 'Cept I ain't got no idear who Wilder is. Can ya mebbe back up an' catch me up?"

"We found a note on them bandits who were fixin' to ambush us." Gabby says before Caleb can get a word in edgewise. "Said they was waitin' fer a fella named Wilder and his samples. Bounty hunters, seemed like. Looks like they got et by the walkers, who then used the ambush they'd set up to grab Wilder fer themselves. That man that was took...that was Wilder. And we have the samples. Don't rightly know more than the name and that black bag there." He turns to Mr. Darling. "Speaking o' which, mind if I take a gander? I'm powerful curious to see what's worth stoppin' a train and tryin' to kill folk over."

"That's up to the Marshall, old timer. He's all the law we have right here.

"Morgan, it seems prudent to wait for morning and maybe for that brake man to return, maybe with some way to convey the passengers back to the last town. Are there enough horses to mount a posse? Or were you planning to go alone?"

"I sure hope he returns with some help 'fore mornin'. We're already behind schedule enough as it is, and Kinsley ain't terrible far off," the conductor added in an off handed way.

Daniel grunted when Gabby finished his recollection of what they knew. "From what yer sayin', I'm not sure if this Wilder fella is bad news er what. But those things that took 'im sure were. I ain't gonna leave nobody to deal with those things if I can help it, Marshal, so's ya can count me in. Jock is in th' back with the rest o' the horses if we wanna ride, or mebbe we'll be walkin' if we're trackin'."


He then looked at his uncle's injury, "Uncle, lemme see that hand."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Tue 18 Sept 2012.

Morgan nodded at Darling's suggestion. "I wouldn't feel good about leaving these people unguarded," he said, "They showed plenty of grit, standing up to these things. But that monster, that thing that tried to take Ms. Linkous, it got away. And there may be more of its kind out there. If they were to return before these people were moved, I'd want to be here to defend them. And return they might, if they're still after what's in that bag."

He gave a faint smile. "Everything in me wants to give chase now, but that's not wisdom talkin'. We need to wait for the brake man."

"I definitely don't want to head out alone. Daniel, I sure appreciate you volunteerin' I'll take every able bodied person I can. My horse is back there, but we'd best check just how many mounts we have ready, so we know how many riders we'll have when we start after Wilder. Mr. Darling, I'd be obliged to you if you'd consider coming with us."

He gestured to the medical bag. "You can let Daniel and Gabby have a look see at that thing. I'd trust either of 'em with the law's business. And with my life, for that matter."

As the travelers continued to judge their course of action, a sound gradually penetrated their midst as silence fell upon them. For some moments, it was nothing more than a faint sound coming from a distance. As seconds of quiet fell upon them, the clip-clop sound of hooves pounding against the ground gradually seemed to grow closer, louder, and slower.

Coraline perked up at the faint sound of hoofbeats and rose, venturing to one of the windows.  She poked her head out, searching for the source.  "That can't be the man coming back from town already, can it?  I only hear one horse.  Shouldn't he be bringing help?"

"Might be more trouble." Gabby says, looking at his stitched-up arm ruefully. He begins to load his scattergun, just in case.

Morgan nodded. "It is only one horse. But Gabby's right. We can't assume the rider's friendly."

He checked the loads in his peacemaker as he spoke.

Darling beckons d'Alex, Gabby, and Coraline over and lets them look through the contents of the satchel.


As they examine it, he steps over to Jenny, taking out his notebook. "Mrs. Linkous, I'd like to get your account of the creature that grabbed you. It must have been terrifying. Why do you suppose it singled you out?"


As the others react to the approaching horse, he leaves them to it, concentrating on Jenny.

"It was indeed terrifying, Mr. Darling," she said breathily, fanning herself with a hand delicately. "It was like a big man, but much, much bigger. I've never seen a man with a chest and arms like that. And all stitched up too, like a doctor did it. There were pretty obvious lines of stitches on a few places, but that's all I remembered. I was mainly trying to get free, even though it seemed impossible." She shuddered as she thought about the encounter.

"And I haven't the faintest idea why that thing tried to grab me."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Wed 19 Sept 2012.

"Who holds the train?" called a voice from out of the darkness.

The conductor was quick to respond, readying his shotgun. "I'm Will Alseen, and the conductor of this here train. I hold it and we're armed and there're more of us than there are of you, so you better git on outta here 'fore we blow you a new one." The conductor's statement was followed by a long pause.

The voice now seemed a lot closer, but the speaker just out of sight. "My name is Dan Phelps, and I'm the Marshal o' Kinsley, Kansas. I was out and about here, and I heard the shootin' and I thought I'd come over and see what was amiss," he said.

"I'm just gonna walk on over, so don't be alarmed. My iron's holstered so if you could hold off on blowin' me a new one, I'd be much obliged," he said. Toward the light that spilled out of the train walked a man that was now holding a lantern in one hand. In the other hand, he held a tin star clear for anybody to see. His duster was drawn back to show that his weapon was holstered. For a lone man approaching a train of potentially armed men, some of them clearly holding shootin' irons, he didn't seem to be perturbed by the sight.

"Y'all holdin' up ok here?"

Gabby looks up at the newcomer and lowers his shotgun. "We done had a few injuries when the walkers attacked us, but we got a mighty fine doctor aboard, so we're all patched up, I reckon. Good to see you, Marshal. I reckon we got a big ol' problem here, 'cause one o' the passengers got snatched in the mayhem. We was plannin' on a search posse in the mornin'."

He took out a cigarillo and lit it, then took a puff on it and exhaled a thin plume of smoke outside as he leaned against the side of the train car.

"My deputy and I were headed out to check Doc Hodges’ mine up in the Smoky Hills. We had a spot of trouble with some desperadoes in town. They broke into the doctor’s office, ransacked the place, and rode off. We haven’t seen Doc Hodges since. I thought we’d ride out and see if he was at his silver mine up in the hills. That’s when we ran into your brakeman. From what he told us, it sounded like the hard cases we were worried about had met their maker, so I had my deputy take him back to town to round up some help for you folks. I figured I’d head out and check the mine on my own. That’s when I heard all the shooting coming from the train and headed your way. Now...you say somebody got snatched? Any idea where they were taken?"
This message was last updated by the player at 18:31, Wed 19 Sept 2012.

Morgan tips his hat. "Marshal Phelps, I'm U.S. Marshal Caleb Morgan. I'm sure glad to see a friendly face. I appreciate you helping the brakeman sir, and rounding up some help for these people."

I've been eager to start tracking those that took the gentleman from the train. His name was Wilder, and from what I can gather your desperadoes may have been after him as well, at least judging from a telegram Mr. Darling here found."

"We hadn't started any pursuit as yet, because we didn't want to leave some of these folks unguarded, 'specially if those things that attacked the train, and that took Wilder, returned." Morgan motioned for Phelps to climb up into the car. "You can have a look at what we were faced with, the same things that killed the men you were after. I'll warn you, it's no sight for a weak stomach."

Coraline studied the new lawman quietly, fan out once again, which she waved in her face.  "Marshal, we don't know which way they took the man they snatched, but the thing that likely took him headed off that way when it was wounded."  She gestured in the direction they'd seen the monster head off.  "Most thought it would be pointless and dangerous to try to track it in the dark."

He tipped his hat to Caleb, looking properly impressed to meet a United States Marshal, waved off the Conductor's apology for threatening him  and then cracked a grin at Caleb. "Good to meet a fellow law-man out in these parts."

Stepping into the train, he surveyed the situation, and his face twisted in disgust. He looked more than taken aback, and leaned down to examine one, pulling at a black shard of ghost rock that slipped out of one of the body's forehead with a grotesque grating sound. Righting himself, he took a step back and dropped it. He didn't lose his composure, but he did look more than a little unsettled, a contrast from the cool with which he had approached the train that was full of armed men that might have shot him.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what in the Hell are these things?" He looked around and saw Coraline and Jenny. "Pardon my language, ladies. Just ain't never seen...So..." He refocused his attention on Caleb and Gabby, those that had spoken to him so far. "Those things attacked you? And took a passenger with 'em?"

He paused to listen to Coraline's explanation. "Well, we might could wait until mornin' to track 'em. Might be dangerous at night, but...I dunno. Can't say what things like that might do to a fella. If the passenger'll still be there in the mornin'."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:22, Thu 20 Sept 2012.

"Well, the thing that done the actual takin' looked like he was sewn up out o' a bunch o' different parts, but these things were takin' on the defenders while the big thing did the snatchin'. 'Leastwise until we put a few bullets into it. As to what they were, well..." Gabby indicates the bag Darling found. "I think Wilder was one o' them Made Scientist you read about in the Epitaph. And I think these things were dead men, and that stick o' ghost rock was doin' somethin' to make 'em move again. The critters took shots all over the place, but only a shot aimin' fer the brainpan put 'em down any."

"You know, if I couldn't see it myself, I might not've believed such a tale but I guess...there it is. Dead folks with ghost rock shoved in their heads attackin' live folks. And another big stitched up thing?" He shook his head. It was too much for him to really wrap his head around at the moment, so he just kinda ignored it.

"Well, it's good y'all kept yer nerve. I imagine the folks accompanyin' the brakeman won't take too much longer. If a few of us head up on down after the...which way do you reckon' he...it...took that fella?"

Daniel had been looking after some of the other wounded, the miners and the gambler mostly, when the local law fella had come by. He didn't look up from his work as Gabby started, well, Gabbin' with the newcomer, and he waved a hand when his uncle suggested he was a doctor. That wasn't exactly the truth. He was a barber, and as such had to have some skill at fixing just about anything wrong with folk. A little bit of bandaging and stitching didn't make him a doctor.

Once he had seen to the other fellows, he turned his attention to the other Dan, "We reckon he went inta the woods with that fella. If we wanna chase 'im, we gotta go that way. Chasin' him by night ain't my idea o' fun, but if yeh wanna go now, I'll back ya up. I reckon that these folks're not endanger anymore, what with the apparent target o'the attack been taken away."

"I'm going, even if I gotta go alone. I was headed up to Doc Hodges mine before I heard all the shootin' over here, and it's over thattaway - through the woods and into the Smoky Hills. Might as well see if I can find this passenger o' yours." He set down his lantern, and pinned his badge on again, though under his jacket, and took a moment to make sure that his gun was loaded. He holstered his pistol and took out the rifle he had slung across his shoulder and did the same for it.

"If any o' y'all wanna come along too, well, I'll swear you in as a temporary deputy till this particular cat is skinned. I'd be glad for an extra pair o' hands or guns." He cocked an eyebrow at the sword and added, clearly as an afterthought and laced with curiosity, "Or sword."

"Well, I can't in good conscience let ya go on alone, not when we don't know what else might be out there." Gabby says. "Ya'll can count me in."

Randolph leaves off his examination and note-taking of the dead creatures, having gone through their pockets and given their clothes some scrutiny. He pockets any of the ghost rock he's collected and dusts off his hands before extending one to the Marshall.

"My name's Randolph Darling, Mr. Phelps. I'm a writer and I'd like to go along, if there are enough mounts for these other men who are likely to prove more capable than I."

"I'd be glad to have you a long, old timer. And you too, Mr. Darling. As for mounts, well I'm not sure we're gonna need 'em. The mine's not too much further on from here and I find that too many horses might make a tracking situation a bit complicated if'n we gotta double back at any point. Marshal Morgan, it'd be good to have a genuine U.S. Marshal with us, if you'd be so kind. I know you folk usually work alone, but I think it might be good to have a few extra hands on this," he said. He took the bag that Gabby indicated, and began to look at them, shaking his head as he carefully examined them.

"Truth be told I don't know what to make o' these, but I think I'll just believe what y'all told me earlier and go with my instincts. That should leave enough folks back here to be safe. Looks like the conductor and the rest o' the crew, plus a couple more should be enough to guard the womenfolk until the brakeman and the others from town get here. Not that I think they'll need it."

"I honestly hope that you don't think I'll be staying behind," Coraline piped in.  She bristled any time men started talking about 'womenfolk' as a collective entity, knowing it would inevitably lead to the boys having fun without her.  Grabbing her leather case, she rifled through it.  "I have a lantern in here if you think we'll need one."

Daniel smiled at Coraline's offer. He hadn't the opportunity to get to meet either her or Randy and looked forward to chatting with them both. "Ma'am, I sure didn't see ya' seemin' too afeared the first time ya saw them things. Yer lantern'll be welcome, I should think. I got a coupla full canteens, and ya have muh sword, marshal. Leavin' horses here'd be best. Trackin' is one thing, an I don' want Jock breakin' a ankle er somethin'. Tend not ta ride unfamiliar territory at night as a rule. 'less someone's life depends on it, 'course."

Morgan nodded. "I do work alone a great deal, Marshal. But I think that wise men know when they need help. This is assuredly one of those times." He looked to the others. "Daniel, Gabby, Mr. Darling, Ma'am, I'm sure thankful for your assistance in this. There aren't many folks that would would have the gumption to go chasing after things like this. I'm obliged to each of you."

He turned back to Phelps. "Marshal, I wonder if I could trouble you for that bag. I want to give it one more look before we head after Mr. Wilder." When Phelps handed Morgan the bag, he told Darling, "I'll return this to your care momentarily, Mr. Darling."

He stepped out of the passenger car, frowning as he looked in the direction the monstrous creature had fled.

He gladly handed the bag over, and made some agreeable sounds that echoed Caleb's sentiments. Turning to Coraline, he recognized that light in her eyes and spread his hands, almost defensively.

"Ma'am, I've known women sheriffs and the like, so I ain't sayin' the fairer sex can't handle themselves. If you wanna come with, ain't nobody gonna stop you. As long as you know it's gonna be dangerous, that's fine. I don't know if you're carryin', but I did see a pile of spare irons that the ambushers left behind out by the front of the train - if you need a gun."

"I have a derringer, but I might as well take a six shooter along if there's one to spare and ammunition for it."  Two guesses where she kept her tiny pistol.  She rarely had an excuse to draw it, as she preferred hexslingin' to guns, but it never hurt to have something as a backup.

"Have we got a plan fer protectin' the rest o' these passengers?" Gabby asked, looking at the other occupants of the rail car. "One o' them walkers nearly got Dan there, an' the big thing almost carried away Mrs. Linkous. I don't wanna leave 'em without any protection."

"Woof!" Clementine barked.

Gabby frowned. "You sure, girl? Could be dangerous..."

"Woof!" The yellow lab barked again, leaping on one of the corpses she had beheaded.

"Well...I suppose you got a point." Gabby said with a grin, and went over to pet his dog. "You stay here and watch over these folks. I'll be back soon. You're a good girl, Clementine."

"Bark!" the dog woofed happily.

Daniel nodded at Coraline's question, "I seem ta 'member  there bein' a few six-shooters an' mebbe some rifles back where them banditos was killed. I gotsta go get muh shirt'n'duster from back thar anyhow. If ya wanna come with, we c'n see if mebbe there'r a few bullets somewhere on those men as well."

Daniel looked about the car again quickly, then made for the exit and headed down the stairs. He jumped down onto the ground, happy that pain didn't radiate from his midsection as he landed in a crouch. He turned back toward the train to help any that wanted to join his brief excursion.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. D'Alex. I'd appreciate a chance to take a closer look at your sword when we have more leisure. I'm rather an enthusiast about such weapons."

Randolph waves his hands at Caleb,"Marshall Morgan, I suggest we leave that bag in the care of the conductor to be sent on to your superiors in the Marshall Service, just in case..."

He steps up to the conductor and speaks quietly, "I'd appreciate your assistance in retrieving something from my trunk in the baggage car, sir."

Coraline followed Daniel to fetch herself a gun.  She lifted her skirt so it wouldn't get caught on the stairs and held out her hand for him to help her down from the train again.  "Mister d'Alex, if you wouldn't mind.  I'm beginning to regret this bustle."

The law man gladly handed over the bag to Caleb's custody before venturing off towards the front of the train where the pile of guns was. Returning, he carefully handed a loaded single-action Colt Peacemaker to Coraline. "Here you go, ma'am," he said.

When Caleb returned with the bag and it had been turned over to the conductor for safekeeping and perhaps future forwarding, the Marshal Phelps lifted his lantern again and surveyed the scene. He had his own weapon holstered, but it was clear that he was ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

"Alright, I think it's time to be on our way. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."

As the party walked toward the woodline, Randolph walked closely beside Coraline, wearing a long black duster. "When we have a chance to speak privately, you'll have to tell me more about what you were doing to those things," he said quietly.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:20, Mon 24 Sept 2012.

Morgan walked alongside Phelps, his eyes fixed ahead, concentrating on finding any sign of the creature's passage on the prairie.

Gabby walked alongside, his shotgun at the ready. He was strangely quiet for a usually talkative man.

"Thank you kindly, Marshal," she said to the town lawman, stuffing the gun in her leather satchel.

As the group headed off, she threw Randolph a casual glance, lips pulling into a thin smile.  "I have no idea what you mean, Mister Darling."  She normally kept her abilities well hidden, but the appearance of monsters had called for drastic measures.  She'd known Randolph for a while, however, and trusted him implicitly.  The others... she wasn't sure what they'd seen or if they'd been too busy shooting to notice, but she'd likely have to deal with their curiosity as well.  None of them seemed to have any issue accepting monsters, however, so perhaps the existence of magic wouldn't bother them as much as other people.

Daniel nodded at Cora as she descended from the train, "Yer welcome, ma'am."

He also turned his face toward Randy and nodded at his question, "Be happy ta show it ta ya later, Mister Darlin', 'specially ta someone who can 'preciate it."

He followed the Marshal towards the front of the train and retrieved a shooting iron for himself, as well as a gun belt and some ammunition. Didn't hurt to have something that he could use in a pinch. Not that he was like to hit anything vital wih it.

He also reclaimed the clothes he had discarded before moving the railroad ties. He smirked a little at his good fortune - had he not removed them to work on the railroad ties, he'd likely be out a shirt, and maybe a duster. He frowned as he looked down at his torn trousers again, sighing heavily at the loss of this pair of pants.

He then followed the rest of the small group in the direction the sewed-together man ran. Since the rest of them were being mostly quiet, Daniel followed suit.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:37, Mon 24 Sept 2012.

Randolph gives Coraline a grin, his teeth flashing whitely in the darkness, and turns his gaze to the ground, seeking any signs of the brute's passage. He can't help but think of Victor Frankenstein's monster.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:17, Mon 24 Sept 2012.

As they made their way away from the train, both Randolph and Caleb managed to find tracks. From the passenger car, an abnormally large set of footprints lead to the stable car. Marshal Phelps followed the two men, giving them some distance as they looked for tracks, not wanting to trample on any clues. "Find anything?" he asked.

Morgan frowned as he studied the ground near the stable car. "There's a second set of prints here," he said, gesturing to the ground. "They belong to a man, or at least that's how they appear. They stop at the car and are replaced by hoof prints. The man mounted up and went that way..." Morgan pointed to the wooded area in the distance, "toward the Smoky Hills. The big tracks of that monster that tried to take Ms. Linkous lead off in that same direction also."

He paused for a moment, frowning. "In all that happened, did anyone actually see Mr. Wilder get snatched? I just...is it possible he got out in the confusion, grabbed a mount, and rode for the hills?" Morgan glanced at Darling. "Given the nature of Mr. Wilder's 'work', could that hulking thing that ripped the roof of the car off be one of his...creations?"

"Is it possible that all those things we fought on the train were his? I mean, they sure did a right handy job of dispatching those fellas that were after him."

Daniel's breath caught a bit as the Marshal seemed to indicate that one of the horses had been taken from the stable car. He rushed toward the car and clambered aboard as quickly as he was able, looking around to see if Jacques was, in fact, still there.

The local law man scratched at his newly grown-in beard as he pondered Caleb's question. "When it comes to things like this, I suppose anything's possible, though it does beg a few questions. If he created these things, and they finished off the fellas that were after him, why'd he need to attack everyone on the train with 'em? Seems like he coulda just rode off without the commotion. Either way, I got no clue."

After spending a little bit of time patting his horse and speaking with the animal in low tones, Daniel returned to the outside of the car, "Didja get a look at which way th'glass broke? If the glass ended up inside th'car, seems likely he got grabbed. And if th'other way 'round with the glass, then mebbe he jus' tried ta escape. Don't much matter right now anyhow, but Missus Linkous didn't seem ta have much confusion, did she?"

It was a non-rhetorical question, as he had been busy worrying about bleeding people, including himself, in the immediate aftermath of the recent assault on the train.

"Mebbe they went rogue." Gabby says. "Or mebbe they was just supposed to effect a rescue, but got carried away. Mrs. Linkous said somethin' smashed through the window first, then went after the roof. Mebbe he never had that great a control on 'em."

"If Wilder ran off, surely he'd have taken his bag along, wouldn't he?" mused Randolph.

"The conductor said the brakeman took a horse and rode for help. You ran into him on the way, Marshall Phelps, isn't that right? I just see one set of hoof prints, Caleb, how about you? And what do you make of these marks here. Look to me like a big animal -- wolf, or maybe catamount. Of course, I'm just a greenhorn."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Mon 24 Sept 2012.

"The brakeman did take a horse, but he rode the other way," he said, pointing to the south.

Pointing to the opposite direction, he gestured north. "These hoof prints go north, into the woods yonder, over to the Smoky Hills. As do these big ol' footprints here, and these paw prints over here. Looks to me like a wolf, though I don't know what a wolf was doin' around here. They usually stay well clear of people. I'm surprised it go so close to the train."

Morgan shrugged. "You're right, Marshal. Wolves do generally steer clear of men. I reckon those things in the car and that big fella smelled pretty odd to 'em, though. Curiosity just got the better of it, more than likely."

He pointed North. "The creature and the rider both head into the woods. That's where we need to follow."

He looked to Gabby and Daniel. "But I wonder...maybe it wasn't an accident that that thing tried to take Mrs. Linkous. Did she happen to mention anything about her husband? What line of work he was in?"

"Ain't it entirely possible that Wilder's experiments weren't limited to human folk?" Gabby asked. "Could be some undead wolves or somethin'."

With that cheery thought, Gabby checks his shotgun again, just to make sure it's loaded and ready.

"All the chatty Mrs. Linkous said about her husband was that he was in Denver and she was traveling to meet him.  I never heard her say what line of work he was in."  Cora held up her lantern to follow the line of tracks, squinting as they disappeared into the darkness.  "Are we following these, then?  Because I'd just as soon rather get going than stand out here and jaw all evening."

"I'gree with Miss Hawthorne. Speculatin' don't get us nowhere anyhow. Let's go find 'im an ask 'im. If ya really think Missus Linkous was a target, then we gotta figger if we wanna leaver her here with the trainmen and that gambler fer protection, or if we wanna bring her with."

He put the fedora he had been holding in his hand back on his head. "Whatever ya wanna do, let's get movin'."

"I think the lady has a point," he said. "We might as well get to it, unless anybody thinks this Mrs. Linkous has any actual valuable information that could lead us to something..." He began to take a few steps with his lantern in the direction of the footsteps, though he didn't rush off, giving anyone time to stop him if they needed to.

Gabby shrugs. There was only so many times you could check your gun, after all. He follows after Phelps.

"The lady has a point," Morgan agreed, falling in step with Phelps. "We need to find Wilder and that creature first and foremost. Miss Linkous should be safe enough with the railroad folks for the time being. Once we find what we find, if she proves important somehow, we can catch up to her in Kinsley."

With that, Morgan lapsed into silence, looking to the tracks on the ground as he walked north alongside his fellow lawman.

The railroad tracks lay just south of the Smoky Hills, which Marshal Dan Phelps lead them into, knowing the local terrain well. The area abutting the rail line was lightly wooded, though the trees grew more sparse as the group continued on, and the terrain grew a little more hilly - in sharp contrast to the flat landscape that seemed to be everywhere in the state.

"Gentlemen, these tracks you've found us seem to lead the same way I was heading originally - to Doc Hodges' mine. I thought earlier that all these events are somehow mixed up, but I'm growing more and more certain every step we take. Don't believe much in coincidences, myself," he said, mainly addressing Caleb and Randolph at first, but eventually spreading around his gaze to Coraline, Daniel and Gabby so as to include the five of them. He seemed to linger both on Coraline and Gabby, as if he thought that a woman and an old geezer should have stayed back on the train, but he didn't say as much.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:24, Wed 26 Sept 2012.

"Maybe you oughta tell us more about this Doc Hodges." Gabby mused. "Could be important." He catches the lingering looks the Marshal gives him and the lady and frowns.

Morgan nodded in agreement with Gabby's suggestion. "That's right. I'm not much of a believer in coincidences either, Marshal. What business had you heading for this mine?"

Morgan studied the prairie and the woods up ahead. He felt suddenly uneasy, unable to shake the conviction that someone, or something, was watching the group.

Keeping his voice low, he added, "I'm also not one to ignore my instincts, Marshal Phelps. It's saved my hide a time or two. I haven't seen anyone as yet, but my gut tells me we're being watched."

"We are," Coraline agreed quietly.  Her gaze was turned outward, flitting through the darkness as if following the progress of something particular ahead of them.  The hand not holding the lantern dipped until the fan up her sleeve fell out into her palm.  She flipped it open with a flick of her wrist, still watching the darkness.  "It is out there, ahead of us... keeping pace.  Following our progress."

Daniel looked around at the trees, then back at the other members of the group. He responded quietly, "I felt somethin' out there, too. Thought mebbe I was havin' a reaction ta what we saw before, though. Mebbe we should call out ta whoever it is?"

In response to Gabby's question, Phelps gave sort of a shrug. "Doc Hodges came to town a few years back, and set up shop as the town's doctor and undertaker. He's a respected citizen and he's never been in trouble with the law since he got to Kinsley. He's got a silver mine up here in the hills. It actually hasn't been active for years, but he bought up the claim and thinks that he can get more silver outta there." He shook his head. "I think it's a hobby for him or somethin'."

As the others mentioned being watched, he perked up. "I thought I saw somethin' move, but I told myself it was nothin'." He fingered the iron in his holster as he looked about to see if there was anything to find.
This message was last updated by the player at 04:55, Fri 28 Sept 2012.

"It isn't a person," she said to Daniel.  "It's a thing.  If you can, imagine a dismembered hand running around on its own, with a giant eye buried in its flesh.  I've never seen anything like it before in my life."

Daniel scrunched up his face a bit at the description, "I thought I saw a pitcher o'that very thing. In th'bag o'the man that got snatched. I could swear there was a pitcher of'n eyeball planted in a hand. Anyone else 'member that?"

Morgan nodded at Daniel's comment. "Yes. There was a picture of that very thing."

Morgan scanned the prairie, his shoulders tensed. "If it's only the size of a hand, one wouldn't think it was too dangerous, in itself. It sounds like something that was sent to spy on us."

"Wait...walkin' hands?" Gabby says. "I reckon you can git dead men walkin' if you do somethin' to the brain but...how do you animate a hand?"

"I'll make a note of that question, Gabby, so we remember to ask when we find the monstosity's creator."

Randolph doesn't like the idea of disembodied parts scampering around.

As if talking about the hand had summoned it, the hand scrambled up just in front of them, running with surprising speed on its fingers like a large spider. It stopped a dozen yards ahead of them, the eye embedded into it looking at them.

Daniel felt compelled to open his own palm as wide as it could go and wave at the hand. Not a big, over-the-head wave, but more of a wave that you would give someone you're expecting to see and want to acknowledge. He didn't have anything against the hand, per se, but stood ready to defend the posse should it make any threatening move toward them.

Propping itself up on its side, the detached hand waved back in Daniel's direction.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Gabby screams, whirling his shotgun at the thing and pumping a round at it.

The shot missed it, but the hand seemed to jump up nonetheless, and again waved wildly at them before jumping to hide behind a rock. It seemed to creep back up over the rock, and it waved at them again, and then just watched.

Daniel nearly jumped when his uncle shot at the poor, little hand. He turned toward Gabby with his brow furrowed, "Now wha'd that poor lil ol' hand ev'r do ta ya, Uncle? Mebbe it's jus' scared an' lookin' fer some friends."

Of course it could be a spy, too, but that horse seemed to have left the pasture already. Daniel waved at it again, but this time he kneeled down and beckoned it closer with his hand gestures.

At Daniel's beckoning, it creeped closer to them with a certain insecurity and hesitance in its movements. Inching closer, it leaned up on a single finger, the remaining ones curling into the hand and it began to scribble something into the dirt. The letters were somewhat crude, but easy to read.

HELP, RADCLIFFE KILL ME

It drew a stick figure and then a picture of a knife, and then began pointing down the trail upon which they were headed.

Daniel reached his hand out toward the ground near the hand. He wrote in the dirt so that the hand might read the message. PLEASE SHOW US WHERE RADCLIFFE IS. WE WILL KEEP YOU SAFE.

Once he was closer to the hand, he looked to see if the fingernails actually had been replaced with mountain lion claws. He offered his own arm so that the hand might clamber aboard Daniel should it agree to help.

Coraline stared at Daniel and the disembodied hand, mouth parted slightly as she saw the creature up close.  The fact that it could communicate was mind-boggling.  "Who is Radcliffe?"  Her first inclination was, like Gabby, to blow the thing away, but such a small target would be difficult to hit.  Now, she was glad that she hadn't.

Morgan nodded, desperately trying not to dwell on the bizarre scene that was unfolding. "Strange as that thing is, I don't think it means us harm. If it's here to watch us, well, it's a bit late for us to try and hide from it."

He gazed down the trail. "I wonder if this Radcliffe fella was the one who sent those creatures to the train? That name mean anything to you, Marshal Phelps?"

Daniel looked at the others, wondering if maybe they hadn't read the same stack of letters he did. "I'm thinkin' it's th' perfesser Radcliffe that sent them letters to the Wilder fella we're lookin' fer. That bag Wilder left behind had plenty o' Radcliffe letters in it. Who's got th' bag?"

"I didn't even get a look in the bag," Coraline said, pouting slightly.  "What else was in there that might be of interest to the rest of us?"

"Are you sure we can trust this thing?" Gabby says nervously, replacing the shell he'd spent on his fruitless attack. He's clearly unnerved by the thing.

In response to Caleb's question, he shook his head. "I've got no idea. If there was a killer round these parts goin' by that name, I'd know it, sure as sunshine."

"Pretty sure that's the bag we handed to the conductor for safekeepin'. I did see the name Radcliffe in there, but  I didn't know what to make of most of it, truth be told. We don't got problems o' that sort down here. Mostly well, that's the kinda thing folks read 'bout in the Epitaph, and that rag's just fulla nonsense. Anyway, you didn't miss much, ma'am," he said, directing his second sentence to Coraline, though he didn't take his eyes off the hand for a minute. The lawman looked a little nervous, and though he hadn't drawn and fired like the older man had, he could certainly understand being a little trigger happy in the presence of such a thing. He himself had his hand resting securely on his holster and there was a feeling of readiness in his tone, the tone that he most likely had used on a villain or two in his time.

"Just a drawin' of that hand thing right there. And some other unseemly and devilish writings. I can still hardly believe this, but I guess there's no use pretendin' this ain't happenin'. Mr. Darling, you should maybe write this up for the Epitaph or somethin'" He sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:18, Tue 02 Oct 2012.

The hand did indeed have the claws on the end of each finger that it was depicted with. It glanced at what Daniel had written, and back up with him. The detached hand danced back away from Daniel's outstretched arm, and pointed the way down the trail.

Then it began to scamper off at an impressive speed down the same trail they had been heading. It stopped again a few feet away, pointing vigorously down the trail. It stayed just in sight of them, scampering around and pointing in one direction.

At Gabby's question, Daniel shook his head. "Course I'm not sure. But don't seem to be no better way ta find that monster. 'Less one of ya that can see bootmarks in th'dirt c'n say we're goin' the wrong way."

Daniel walked after the hand, feeling somewhat trusting of it but also aware that it might be a creature of the professor's sent to lure them into a trap.

"...I read about the Walkers in the Epitaph..." Gabby admits. "So I reckon it may not be all nonsense. Mr. Darlin', if'n you do write this up, I'd be first in line to read it."

"Danial..." Gabby starts, but trails off. he sighs, and follows after. No sense in lettin' the boy just walk into danger by himself.

Randolph wishes he had taken a better look at the materials in the bag, that they had all given this just a bit more consideration, instead of rushing off into the night like knights errant bent on rescuing a comrade. Wilder may be as bad a man as this Radcliffe. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound. Right?

"Let's not get separated here, gentlemen. And lady," he adds, touching his hat brim to Coraline, "No telling what other uncanny things might stalk these woods."

Morgan set off after Daniel and the hand. He remained vigilant, looking for anything out of the ordinary and keeping an eye on the strange thing that led them, watching to see if it kept to the trail they had discovered.