Conveniently located right across the railroad tracks from a number of saloons and down the street from an establishment for those interested in the most soiled doves in Dodge City was the city jail. Most troublemakers didn't stay here for more than a spell, usually just long enough to be hauled in front of Judge Moreland. On this particular morning most of the cells were open, save for one in which Vinton Radcliffe awaited his own showdown with justice.

Right across the way sat one of the most well known law men in town, Wyatt Earp. There was a bench, a chair and a couple of stools across from the table that made do as a desk. On the wall were several Wanted posters. One poster depicted a thin beardless man with smoked glasses by the name of Chuckles Ryan, promising a reward of $500, wanted dead or alive for murder. Clay Allison, a vicious grizzled looking man with a mustache was wanted for the same amount and the same thing. There was $300 on Black Bart, a stagecoach robber, and another $500 dead or alive for Sam Bass. The James Gang featured fairly prominently on the wall. A whole $10,000 was on Jesse's head, Frank James had $2,000 and some of the others had $1,000 each. At the end there was a small wanted poster for a youth named Luke Cain for $100, wanted alive for train robbery.

At the moment, the deputy didn't seem too concerned by the posters, instead focused on the man in front of him. A strange fellow by all accounts. Some kinda Injun, if he reckoned right from what the fella had told him. He had first been called down to deal with the man who apparently had insisted on exorcising the property of a slaughterhouse and was making something of a nuisance of himself in doing so. Having gone down to peacably remove the man...well, it turned out that the Injun had been onto something.

"Thanks for stopping by. You did us a good one with that slaughterhouse the other day. This isn't nothin' like that, but you seemed handy in a tight spot so I thought you might be interested in the opportunity. I don't recall whether I've mentioned it, but I can offer $10 a day - from today until dawn on the fifth. There's a certain part of town I won't have manpower to cover for the celebrations, and I just wanted a few tough folks to act as deputies - keep things quiet for visitors."

The pale man laughed, and the tin beasts sewn to his shirt clattered after.
"What is ten dollars?" he asked, eyes the thin blue of a clear winter sky meeting Earp's, then swiftly roving to the join of the ceiling as he paced about, caged-wolf quiet in moccasins. The shaman did not trust buildings with corners.

"Do we eat fresh meat, are bandits chasing us for our riches?" A grin suggested Sky Dog believed ten dollars a day fell somewhere between these states, but it didn't matter all that much.

The sunlight caught like witched flame in the greenish glass of the goggles around the shaman's neck as he paced back into shadow. "Maybe we are tough guys, yes. Ha! Ha! Maybe. I like you, I will think on it. These men-" white fingers traced across the posters, "-if we see them with the many nothings, I bring you the hairs from their little heads, yes? Like the kossaki - the Sioux, for their enemies?" Sky Dog looked across at Earp, the grin half-there, an almost-joke.

He quirked an eyebrow at the man. Surely even having been a native he had to understand the value of money, or at least the purpose. He'd done some trades with them before. Of course, this man didn't look like any Injun he'd ever seen before. At first, he thought that perhaps the man was part white, but it seemed more like he was just an albino. He'd known an albino fella back in Wichita. Didn't do too well in the sun. There was something about this man though, the way he'd tried to help back at the Slaughterhouse. If he was new to white society, Earp thought he might owe it to the man to see that he found his way well enough in it.

"Dollars are what white folks use to trade for things with each other. Except instead of giving away beads or furs for food or firewater, we give away this stuff." He pulled out an example of a little money, and held it up.

"With ten dollars, you can buy good meat and good firewater. Or you can buy the cheap kind and make it last a damn sight longer. Depends on whether you plan to get ten more dollars after, I suppose or just hunt it yourself. If you're in a place like Dodge, you'll need the dollars at some point. You can use it to trade with white people anywhere. Almost anywhere - depends on where you're gonna travel."

He looked at the man to see whether he seemed to understand or not, before looking at the posters. "Not all of them need to be killed. Some of 'em ain't worth money dead, just alive like the kid down there. Hell, if you can bring 'em alive that's better. I can't do much with their scalps. If you kill 'em, bring 'em in dead or I guess maybe take their head. I fear some of them may be long gone."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:46, Mon 07 Jan 2013.

The rustle of feathers and the scrabble of claws against wood covered the first snickers of the shaman's reaction, drawing the lawman's attention to the large bird invading his desk.

"Spath'ba," the raven intoned gravely, looking up at him from one dark eye. She dipped her head low whilst the shaman laughed. "Spath'ba."

Sky Dog recovered himself and leant against the wall, calculating on his fingers whilst the bird hopped over to investigate a metal gleam part-hidden under papers.

"Yes. Keep peace, no scalps. Bring the enemies here." The shaman looked up, suddenly serious. "I will watch for bad ground and avakhi also...I only see avakhi in the middle world once outside this country: one of the little ones, the hostages. Here...many tracks. There are demons walking the way men walk, I think. But we know how to deal with them." The grin returned, as though in shared confidence.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Mon 07 Jan 2013.

He couldn't help but deny that something made him uneasy about the native, though he seemed like a good sort of fellow. Earp had something of a knack for picking out bad men. Some people said he could smell troublemakers, and he'd heard stranger rumors about it. None of them were true, though. It was just a gut instinct, and he had a good one about this Sky Dog - or at least definitely not a bad one. Still, there was something so odd, so alien about the man that made him slightly unsure about him.

"Outside this country? You from Canada?" That wouldn't be too strange. Some of the Ottawa tribesmen came to Kansas now and again, by way of the Sioux Nation. "Forgive my curiosity, but you talk differently from most of the Injuns around here. What tribe are you?"

Sky Dog tilted his head with a sharp little gesture like the raven's. "Canada? Ah, no, not Canadas...West, more West...there is ice, and more ice, where I walked across the sea to the Spear-Cousins, who have no deer, and the lands of the Seal People-" the shaman held up a finger, frowning in thought. "-my country has no name, but the Iron Devils...ah, the Russians, they call it...Siberia. They call my people Tungus - we say evenk - that is, people!" Sky Dog laughed. The raven took off with a cartridge, heading to hide it away in the cells.

Sky Dog paced back towards the window, curious. "-but I know your country well - the place before Canadas, I stay with the Spear-Cousins of the Yupiq. Ha! They think I am crazy, to come wearing blood, blood, yes, with my steed and my sister, in the start of the winter...but I was being a bear before that, so I did not die, so I did not fit a man's clothes." The young man shrugged, then laughed at the lawman's expression. "Wyitterp does not have to believe me. Perhaps I am more like a Canada man than a Seal Person, you believe that. Good!"

He was more a man of practical rather than academic education, but he'd chanced to see a few maps in his time and read the paper now and again, so he was able to put it together somehow though the tale was astonishing to say the least - and in part, somewhat confounding.

"You came all the way over from Russia, and then through Alaska, and down to Kansas?" Earp whistled at that.He wasn't going to ask about the bear part, or who the seal people were. Likely, some Indian mumbo jumbo. He usually just nodded when that sorta thing came up, as if he understood it. He'd deal with it when it was required of him, but not before. "Your sister, she didn't make the journey, I take it?"

The pale man repeated the shrug, as though the names meant nothing to him. "Somewhere the world is hurting - all the worlds, I feel it when I walk in the shadows of the middle world, close to the World Above - so I go there. As for Korpi-"

Sky Dog turned his head towards the cells to speak, but the sounds came as a raven's croak. A sound of flapping; the great black bird swooped and up and gripped the shaman's buckskins with her talons, the tin animals shifting and Sky Dog's white-cream hair lifting with the breeze of her settling. "-you see she is here."

The raven lifted her head. "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" the same bird's laugh, unaffected, from a different throat. "You think we are not kin, one shape and the other, but we are raised together, yes, and have shed blood each for the other, and walked in the other places, us two."

A flicker of that stone-seriousness touched the shaman's face. "Some places I should not have taken her." The bird buised herself in preening her 'brother''s hair; he reached up to scratch her nape as she did so. "Still, that is the past. The ways outside the solid world are tangled here. I think you know this."

Darling steps in from the street and eyes the very pale young man and the very dark raven.

"Mr. Earp, I'm Randolph Darling," he says, "We met last night. I'd like to speak with the prisoner we brought in, Radcliffe."

The jail was a simple building, and where the law man sat casually talking to Sky Dog was not very far away from the cells, where Radcliffe huddled in on himself in a cell.

"I'm glad you came by today to take me up on my offer. Sky Dog, this is Randolph Darling. Randolph, this is Sky Dog." He gestured to the albino indigenous man in front of him.

"Your pal Radcliffe is over there in a cell. Did any of your friends come with you? I was hoping for a few more."

The newcomer drew the attention of the shaman and the raven, their movements mirrored like siblings'. The former spoke, the latter watched.

"He is Randolph Darling, and I am Sky Dog," Sky Dog confirmed, grinning. He leant against the wall by the door to observe; the raven shifted to his head.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Sky Dog," Darling responds, part of his mind trying to figure out what the man might be, as he turned to address Earp.

"You misapprehend me, Deputy. I'm not interested in being a deputy myself. I have employment. I just want a chance to talk to Radcliffe.

"Has the doctor been in to see to his leg?"

Morgan had taken the time for a second cup of coffee befor taking his leave of the Dodge House. He walked slowly through Dodge City's streets as he made his way to Earp's office, appreciating that the early morning was as calm and peaceful as the city ever was.

He'd considered Gabby and Daniel's idea about visiting the widow from Hays. He wanted to accompany them when they called on her. Despite knowing, deep down, that Earp's need for help required his full concentration, Morgan couldn't keep his mind from drifting back to the massacre. He had to help bring a stop to it. Senseless deaths, like those in Hays, was what had prompted him to pin on a badge in the first place.

Morgan stepped inside the Towm Marshal's office. He nodded to Earp as he entered. Seeing that Darling was already present, he greeted the writer. "Mornin', Mr. Darling."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:52, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

A rustle of wings: a ripple of air and half-glimpsed feathers dark as mourning.

"Still yourself!" Sky Dog raised a hand to the tall man, tin animals glittering from under the fringes of the hood about his shoulders. Caleb felt a weight settle on his hat. "Not to worry, yes? My sister believes you are a good man."

"Korb," the weight on Caleb's hat agreed.

"Well, Mr. Darling, he's right over there in his cell. You can feel free to go talk to him if you want, but he may be a little thick in the head. Dr. Smith came over this morning and bandaged him up, though we're pretty sure he won't be walkin' on that leg again. He gave him some kinda medicine too. Prisoner was out like a light since then, though you might could wake him up if you want - can't hurt to try, I suppose," he said, gesturing over to the cell that was clear on the other side of the room.

He was about to greet Caleb as he came in, when the bird suddenly landed on the Marshal's head. "Sky Dog, the man whose hat your sister has landed upon is Caleb Morgan. He's a U.S. Marshal." For most people, he felt that would have been enough of an introduction, but he wasn't sure whether the native was familiar with the concept or how to explain it to him. "He does what I do, but for a much larger place. Many towns, many lands. He brings bad men to justice. And women, I suppose."

"Much obliged," says Darling and he steps over to the cell, "Radcliffe! I want to talk to you."

Radcliffe groaned. His back was flat against the wall of the cell, and he sat on the ground. An antiseptic smell emanated from within the cell, and the fresh bandage on his leg might have covered the wound, but it didn't do anything for how pathetic he looked and how disfunctional his leg was.

"What the hell do you want, journalist?" the man asked. His voice was thick, and his speech seemed a little slurred like he had some cotton in his mouth.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

Randolph hunkers down to get eye level with the man and speaks in very low tones.

The scientist, shifted in his cell slightly, before a grimace of pain came to him from the movement. He looked at Darling considering the man and leaned forward, speaking in a low voice.

Darling stands and shakes the creases out of his trouser legs: "Well, I'll come back later to see whether you feel more like talking."

He steps over to Earp and Caleb. "I can't get much out of him. Pity, for I think I'd have a great story, if he'd talk.

"Frankly, gentlemen, I think his wound may be turning. Better watch him carefully or you're apt to have a funeral before you have a trial."

Bidding the two good day, he strolls out of the office.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:43, Fri 11 Jan 2013.

Sky Dog looked at the Marshal awhile. "I believe this, and one my sister trusts at sight, I trust," he said, then broke into a broad grin. "You do not smell like an iron devil, Caleb Morgan. Good!"

The shaman went and crouched at the bars at Darling's remark, leaving Caleb to Korpi. A peculiar whistle broke from his lips, dropping to a low hum, the pale eyes studying the prisoner. "Hm. He has arinka, the bad spirit...maybe more than one, in his brains, I think," Sky Dog remarked, not looking away.

"This creature, it is eating, eating - if we send it away he will be crazy. Maybe less bad, less dangerous, but very crazy. As for the bleedings..." Sky Dog glanced over at Dodge's finest. "Will you kill the man Radcliffe, Wyitterp, or does he go to live in the stone house with the soldiers, until he dies there?"

Morgan glanced up mildly at the bird that was now using him as a perch. Unable to suppress a grin, he said, "I'm glad to know I meet with your approval, Korpi."

In his travels, Morgan had met all kinds of people. As a young man, still full of rage over the terrible fate of his family, Morgan had come out of the war believing all manner of monstrous things about Southerners, assuming that they were all cut from the same cloth as the ruffians that had cut a scourge through Lawrence.

He'd quickly found out how wrong he was. Some of the most decent, hard working people he'd met in his life made their home in Missouri. The lesson had been a valuable one: always give everyone a fair shake, no matter where they came from, no matter how different they might seem.

Listening to Sky Dog speak about Radcliffe, Morgan realized he knew very little about the Indian people and their ways. But if Earp counted the man as courageous, that was good enough for him.

"I imagine the others will be along directly," he told Earp, "but if you don't mind me asking, what kind of trouble has got you in need of extra hands?"

"Most likely, he's going to hang, though there'll be a trial first. That's how we like to do things, Sky Dog," he said to the native, standing up for a moment and walking as he talked. There might be a time to get into other types of justice that were rendered 'round these parts, but he didn't think this was the time to get into details.

"The Fourth of July, independence day of the United States of America is coming up. That's a holiday for us, Sky Dog. A festival. Anyway, not everybody in town is so inclined as to celebrate it, or happy that the town is doing so. Now, the political loyalties in Dodge City at the moment are about as divided as they could be, and with the crowd that I'm sure you noticed in town we just wanna make sure everyone keeps a cool head, and nobody gets too riled up over the politics of the whole thing. Just peacekeepers is all we're lookin' for."

Sitting down again at the table, he said, "Now, I've been authorized to take on deputies, and I've done so already to cover other parts of the town, but there's one more area that I don't have covered. Usually one man would be enough to cover that area, but as I said earlier...you've seen the crowds yourself. I figure if we can get some reliable folks like yourself and some of those that helped you bring in this criminal here, that we'd be in a good way. Do you think any of them'll be comin'?"

A sliver of black poked over Caleb's hatbrim, just enough to show the brief glimmer of an eye. "Spath'ba."

The raven shifted balance a little and attended to the maintainance of her flight equipment, making no further noise beyond the soft busy sounds of feathers fluffed and drawn through a heavy beak.

Her brother continued to watch the cell's occupant, pensive. "It is good he can try to...take back himself, with the trial, yes. I do not smell sickness in the wound, but here mostly I smell liqour - Ha! Who knows? If we believe Darling, maybe I look at it, see if there is a thing the white doctor does not do, yes?"

Sky Dog looked back at the talk of deputising, dipping his head to show it was understood. "Festival for Holy Independence Day. I have seen much like among the iron devils: much drinking and shooting the air, the happy ones."

"Wyitterp, you hear me: I protect your women and elders from the drunkens and careless-shooting ones with, without dollars. The unhappy ones...ha! Ha! we show we are tough guys, they will not fight us." The grin was turned on the Marshal, comradely and full of the mental immortality of youth.

Morgan nodded as Earp discussed the upcoming Fourth of July celebration. In a divided town like Dodge, the occasion was like a field of dry grass waiting for a lit match. All it took was the false courage of liquor and one fool too stubborn to let go of an opinion and you had a world of trouble on your hands. No wonder Earp wanted help.

He nodded at Earp's question. "I'm sure they'll get here directly," he told him. "Mr. Clarke likes to talk and doesn't know a stranger. I reckon he just got caught up conversing with someone at breakfast. His nephew will get 'em both here. They might bring a few others with them as well."

Glancing over at Radcliffe, Morgan thought about what Darling had said. "You don't mind me asking, has a doctor been able to see to him yet?"

A flutter and sudden shift of weight above suggested the raven gripping the crown of the Marshal's hat wasn't entirely prepared for all this nodding.
"Yaponsky bog!"

"Darling asked me about that just before I came in, actually. We had Doc Smith come in first thing this morning and bandage him up, treat the wound, all that. Gave him somethin' for the pain. Don't expect he's gonna walk on that leg again. I think Darling was trying to talk some more details out of him for his newspaper story." He said, raising an eyebrow as he observed the bird's fluttering and talking.

"How long does it take to train a bird like that to talk, Sky Dog?"
This message was last updated by the player at 19:46, Tue 15 Jan 2013.

The shaman looked puzzled, straightening, clearly parsing and re-parsing the question. "The birds like that...all the ones like raven - crow, jay, whiskeyjack, magpie...they have words to speak like men, not whistles as the wind does, and the little birds. She speaks words her parents did not teach her because she travels with me and is listening. I have as much of her language, maybe. Ha! It does little good here."

Sky Dog paced up to the others, not without a frowning glance back at the stricken criminal. "-as for the Russian, she sees you are not Evenki and those are all the white man's words she has, though I do not think she thinks you are iron devils." The grin sprang back. "But we do have a trick we are making good here...Korpi! Colt Dragoon!"

" *krtoclik* " From the top of the Marshal's hat came the distinctive sound of a pistol cocking.

" *Pam!* " The shaman mimed firing at the sky, and started laughing.

Gabby, coming up to the law office in something of a foul temper, hears the click of a pistol from inside and some laughter.

Uh-oh. That didn't sound good.

He looked around for something that might serve as a makeshift weapon, having left both his pick and his shotgun back in his room at the boarding house. He spied a rock. It would have to do.

he picked up the rock and crept up to the door, and leaned in cautiously to see if he could catch a gander at the situation inside.

Earp studied Sky Dog curiously as he spoke, trying to decipher meaning from his words, which wasn't too much of a challenge though it took a bit of paying attention. The man had a strange way of speaking. When the bird made the gun sound and the native started laughing, he broke into a bit of a grin and barked a laugh.

"Now that is a damn good trick. Could come in handy, you know, if you need to make a feller think that he's got a gun pulled on him from behind. Now before I forget..." he said, though he didn't finish the sentence immediately. He reached over to a chest of drawers, and grabbed a keyring from his belt to unlock one of them. Reaching inside, he drew out two old, beaten looking tin stars engraved with the word DEPUTY.

"'Course, you gotta better one, Caleb, but as I figure a little local lawin' may not be in the Marshal purview, might be best to have this. Plus, there's some out there that wouldn't care much for the other if you take my meaning."

Hmm...everything seemed alight in there...but Gabby figgered it was best to make sure.

"Hey, Mister Earp?" He called from the doorway, hiding the rock out of sight. "Is everythin' alright in there?"

"Come on in, everything's just fine," he said when he saw the older gentleman darken his doorstep.

"Now, we met last night but it was a bit late and I didn't have my head on straight. I'd left half of it in the bed, I reckon. Anyhow, I either didn't get your name or was too sleepy to keep it in my head. Come on in, grab a seat, and if you don't mind introduce yourself to me now that I'm awake."
This message was last updated by the player at 08:40, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

Sky Dog leant on the wall near the start of the cells, grinning. The old man got a mild glance as though he'd always been in the room: the typical nomad's lack of fanfared greeting or farewell. The shaman craned to see what Earp had in his hand, squinting a little as he tried to focus on the small, shadowed objects.

Still flustered and distracted by the argument with Gabby, she was hardly the paragon of a pleasant conversationalist.  Her answers were short and distant, giving Daniel only the bare minimum of a response.  During one point in their stroll, she burst out with a 'miserable old coot!' from no where and then went back to brooding.  Before she realized it, they'd reached the office where Gabby had just disappeared.

Daniel arrived with Coraline and entered the suddenly crowded law office. He nodded at the gentleman he knew, "Good ta see ya 'gain, Caleb."

He then walked over to the law dog looking fellow and introduced himself, offering his hand, "Howdy, I'm Daniel d'Alex."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:38, Fri 18 Jan 2013.

In reply to The Marshal (msg # 33):

Gabby hastily tosses the rock away before he enters the law office. "Well, my name's Gabriel Clarke, though most folk call me Gabby, on account of I tend to have the gift o' gab."

As the others filter in behind him, he makes introductions. "This lovely lady here is Miss Coraline Hawthorne, from back east, and that fella on her arm is my nephew..." he trails off as Danial introduces himself.

There's a bark, and a yellow lab trots into the law office. "And this here is my faithful Clementine." Gabby finishes. The dog barks happily and trots over to the pale stranger, sniffing him with interest.

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Clarke, and you too ma'am," he said simply, tipping his hat to Coraline. He shook Daniel's hand, simply giving his name and who he was. "Wyatt Earp, Deputy Marshal here." By Caleb's reaction to the newcomers, he knew that they were of his company.

"To those of you I haven't met previously, I called you here on account of your assistance rendered timely to the Kinsley Sheriff and Marshal Morgan here. Here's the long and short of it. Dodge City is crowded as hell, which you don't need me to tell you. There's gonna be a bit of a festival thrown for the Fourth of July, independence day for the USA. Well, as y'all probably know, not everybody is keen on that here to say the least."

He cleared his throat. "I'm not here to get into politics, just keep the peace, and I want a lot here that can do that too. I don't care what side anybody is on, if they start a fight, if they start trouble of any kind and won't back down to the proper authority, they go in the slammer with Radcliffe over there. Hopefully that won't be necessary. You flash your tin star at 'em, and they'll back down nice and easy. But just in case there's trouble, the town council has authorized me to take on a few new deputies."

"If any of y'all is interested, it's pretty easy work and pays well. Officially you're only on duty from 6 p.m. until after the festivities end late each night. Job starts now, and ends at dawn on the 5th, or whenever the streets happen to clear out. That's ten dollars a day, so you'd each clean up thirty dollars by the time all's said and done. Definitely enough to ease a passage for those that're lookin' to travel further west."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:06, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

The buckskin-clad fellow in the corner with all the tin animals - a young man, probably about Daniel's age despite the long tangle of white hair - let the dog nose about a little while then went to one knee. He offered her the back of his fist to smell in the manner of one used to Indian dogs more tame coyote than pet, his manner open but wary, his wide grin fasinated.

"Will I have a tin star, Wyitterp?" he asked from the floor.

Daniel was briefly taken aback by the question from the shaman-looking fellow to whom he had not yet been introduced. But after a moment he nodded at Earp's offer. It's what they had discussed anyway. Given the timing, it would also allow him to do a few other things around town while earning a living. Such as it was. "I eggcept, Marshal Earp."

Other things included a bit of investigating.

"Of course you will, Sky Dog. It's a...symbol of authority," he said, handing the man one of them.

"This is Sky Dog, the first one here this morning. He's from Russia." He figured that was probably the best way to explain who and what Sky Dog was in a nutshell. If the man wanted to, he could divulge more about himself in time. "Helped me out with a rather tricky problem the other day. Damn useful fella."

Finding Caleb and Daniel, he handed each of them a little tin star as well.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 08:40, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

Morgan pinned the star to his coat. Under the circumstances, being identified as a Deputy Town Marshal might have its advantages, especially with those who might be offended by a man who held his authority from the Union. It might also help garner favor with some of Dodge's residents, especially if he tried to dig for more information about the murders in Hays.

Looking over at Daniel, Gabby, and Miss Hawthorn, Morgan pointed to the friendly creature that had taken up residence on his hat. "This here's Korpi," he explained, "She's with Sky Dog."

The raven atop Caleb's hat dipped her head gracefully, recognising she was under discussion, then turned her head profile to focus on the newest pair with one jet eye.

Accepting the star, Sky Dog sought among his tin beasts and offered up a stocky Asian horse in exchange, left-handedly ruffling the dog. "Take a piece of my law also, Wyitterp...I get lost with your words for the riding animal, but I think you have a riding-horse, not a steed, yes? This will help, maybe."

The seriousness at once evaporated when Sky Dog found himself introduced, a broad dog-grin spreading over his pale features. "I am a Siberian Indian!" he declared, pre-empting any assumption he might be Russian, then laughed. "A wild Tungus!" A certain pride to this addition spoke of resistance.

"Korp," Korpi remarked.

"Nice ta meetcha, Korpi." Daniel waved at the black bird. Something about ravens often gave him the chills, though he resolved not to let it affect his relationship with this particular bird. At least not until after the fifth of July, as the bird appeared to be on Daniel's side.

Daniel turned his attention to the peculiar fellow who had been identified as a Russian. "And yer a Russian-Siberian-Indian, eh?" The Indian part didn't make much sense, given what Daniel knew of geography, but he'd sort that out later. He walked over to offer Sky Dog his hand in greeting as well. "What brings ya ta Kansas all th'way from Russia?"

The raven made a rasping noise in her throat like someone drawing a stick down a dry, hollow log. Sky Dog's teeth showed in amusement, though he did not translate.

"Hm. Russia is what the Russians are calling where they come to, like Americans are calling America - I do not think your kossaki, your Sioux, are calling themselves Americans!" The shaman looked up from the dog, eyes ice-blue but the features hard to mistake for Slavic.

"Where my homeland is, they call it Siberia, us, Tungus - 'wretched men', like the Americans are saying 'Alaska' and 'Indian'...the land has no name in my language. It is its own name." Sky Dog shrugged, swapped the tin star to the other hand and accepted the handshake with more enthusiasm than experience. "I come here because I am a shamán - you use our word in English, yes? - and when I am going about in the other places I feel the world is hurting, so I come to help."

A journey of some 4,000 miles reduced to this simple statement, Sky Dog let Daniel have his hand back.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

Coraline wasn't about to pass up an easy thirty dollars.  "If you don't mind giving a woman that sort of authority, I'll take one of those stars.  I'm not about to go tackling drunkards in the street, but I can handle myself quite well.  And no one ever expects a woman to pull a gun on them."

She didn't know what the hell to make of the strange shaman, but knew he'd better keep that bird well away from her if he wanted to keep the thing as a pet.  She'd heard that the larger birds could be quite vicious to the point of pecking out people's eyes for no good reason.

He didn't know quite what to make of the tin horse handed him by Sky Dog, but he nodded his thanks quietly and pocketed it.

Turning to Coraline, he spoke. "You wouldn't be the first woman I've deputized. Mr. Morgan here says that everybody who went with him to get this prisoner, who is apparently something of a dangerous man, handled themselves well. Keep in mind though, we don't want any killing. Unless it's not to be helped. Just keepin' the peace."

"Mr. Clarke, can we count on your assistance as well?"

"Of course you can!" Gabby says. "That's why I come down in the first place."

He glances at the bird on Caleb's head and chuckles a bit.

Clementine, meanwhile, is sniffing about Sky Dog, looking at the shaman's head curiously and barking a bit.

He fished out two more tin stars, handing one to Gabby and one to Coraline. "Now, make sure to take good care o' these things. Wouldn't want the wrong sort to end up with one o' these."

Rifling through the same drawer, he pulled out a small sketch and laid it out on the table.



He gestured off to the northwest. "Here's the little corner o' Dodge I want y'all to look after. Start at McCarty's Drug Store right here on Front Street, just across the tracks over there. Now, you walk west a bit till you get to Third. Walk north until you get to Walnut Street. East till you get to Bridge Street, and then south again on Bridge till you get back to McCarty's on Front Street. Nice little square, and it's not too big. Normally, that's enough for one person to handle, but as I said, you've seen the crowds."

"I mentioned this before, but it's worth sayin' again. Bitterness over politics lies just below the surface of many everyday interactions, and it doesn’t take much to boil over. Everybody in Dodge City is on edge, and some o' them have an itch they can only scratch with the business end of a Peacemaker. That's what we're tryin' to stop. And I expect y'all to be as neutral as possible in this matter, no matter where you're from. Marshal Morgan, that means that if there's some pro-Union tomfoolery that gets violent, they go in the cell just the same. Mr. Clarke, that means if we have some Texas cowboys gettin' too rowdy, I'm gonna need you to overlook your common origins for the sake o' the law."

"If any of that sounds like a problem for any of you, it's something that needs to get handled here and now." He gave them all a moment of silence, but seeing as nobody seemed to indicate it was a problem, he just gave a nod, closing the subject.

"As far as where to start, I'd suggest the Dog Eye Saloon. The owner, everyone just calls him Dog Eye, he knows Dodge better than just about anyone, and he can help out in a pinch. He's got rooms upstairs too, and I've asked him to keep a few open for deputies to use. Might be a good place to stay, so you'll be close to the area."

"I've got to handle some business pretty soon. Y'all got any questions?"

Sky Dog flicked the air at a point above his head and spoke softly, apparently answering the dog. "Ah? You have never seen a man with such antlers, Clemya? Never?" The shaman studied the grain of the floor a moment, distant, then flicked his hood up and attached the star to it whilst he thought of where to put it, rising.

"You see they are not entirely here," he grinned back at Clementine, turning the grin briefly on Daniel before going to study the movements of Earp's finger around the map. Korpi also watched, interested, her thoughts opaque.

"Two things - is this-" he indicated the star presently lying on his brow, "-law for us only after the sunset? That, and have there always been nights in the summer here?" The latter question took in Gabby with a glance.

Randolph Darling speaks from the doorway, "I have a question, Mr. Earp: Do you still have a place for me in this detachment?"

Daniel nodded at Sky Dog's response to his being labeled a Russian-Siberian-Indian. Of course most of what he responded with didn't make a lot of sense to Daniel, but perhaps he would puzzle it out later. "Nice ta meetcha too, Shaman Sky Dog."

Daniel smiled at his Uncle's response, knowing full well that he was here for that purpose. As Wyatt began to trace out their area of responsibility Daniel looked at the map and took in what he mentioned about the Dog Eye saloon.

At his request for questions, Daniel listened to the others, then added one of his own, "Anythin' happenin' in that area of late we should know 'bout? Any fights or anythin'?"

"That will be the symbol of the law for you all day, Sky Dog - it's just that I don't expect much trouble till after the sun goes down. And yes, there have always been nights here in the summer. We have nights here all year round. A little shorter in the summer, and a little longer in the winter." He hadn't visit far up north, and he had initially been a little surprised by the question, though having had the advantage of living in a few different places he had observed some differences in the day and night length. It might very well be possible that in a place as far away as where Sky Dog lived, that perhaps there wouldn't be any nights during the summer - or precious short ones maybe.

"Mr.Darling...I was under the impression that you already had a job. Still, I guess the town council has authorized me up to one more person, and I figure we can probably use all the hands we can get so...sure you can join us too." He gave Darling a quick explanation of what he was looking for, something that he'd repeated a few times already and gave him a little tin star of his own that he could pin on.

Handing the little map to Daniel, he said "Here, take this. I can't say for sure what's going on in that particular area. I mean, there's always a little trouble here and there all through Dodge, though nothing that's gotten onto my agenda as of yet. You should talk to Dog Eye, though. He'll let you know what the lay of the land is. In fact, I think it might be a good idea to start heading out that way as soon as you can. You know, get a head start on things."

Gabby takes the star and pins it on. He spares a glance at Mr. Darling...he doesn't fully trust the man, but, mindful of the argument back at the boarding house, he holds back his comments.

Instead, he looks at Sky Dog. "Why wouldn't there be nights in the summer?" Though he'd been all across the CSA, he hadn't traveled very far up north himself, so hadn't seen the same shortening of nights.

Another thought occurred to him. "While we was headin' out o' Kinsley, we heard tell o' an attack on a place called Hays. The blueb--er, the soldiers we was talkin' to indicated that some o' the survivors o' the attack had made it to Dodge. You heard anythin' about this?"

"Glad to be on the side of the law while I'm in Dodge City, Mr. Earp." Darling pins the badge to his silk brocade vest, over his heart. When he lets the lapel of his frock coat fall, the badge is out of sight.

"So, we're to be a band of brothers again, eh?" he smiles at his fellow deputies, "And one cherished sister, of course, Miss Hawthorne." He tips his hat courteously to Coraline, then extends his hand to Sky Dog, "With one new brother added to our kinship. Pleased to wear the tin with you, Sky-Dog."

The shaman took this in with relief. "It is probably a mercy God gives you for living where it is so hot," he murmured, then clarified to Gabby: "In Siberia, we do not have these. In winter, no days. For three times the moon getting fat, no days. Probably God gives you the light he takes from summer then, yes? It is good that this is not from the world being broken, that you have darkness coming in summer here."

He laughed at Earp's attempt to shoo his flock of deputies out, already stepping back before Gabby's question brought him up short. A glance was exchanged with Korpi before Darling spoke, breaking the sudden stillness between them. "Two," he corrected, holding up two fingers like a saint on a gilded icon.

"Two sisters." Sky Dog indicated his own in her new most favourite place, then siezed Darling's hand to shake it perhaps even more thoroughly than Daniel's, one corner of his mouth already pulling up into a grin.

"Yes, of course, I did not mean to slight you, black-winged sister," Darling says, tipping his hat and inclining his head decorously in the raven's direction.

"Let's get on to Dog Eye's establishment then, and I insist on standing everyone a round as we get the low-down from the eponymous owner."

Earp grimaces, and shakes his head in response to Gabby's query. "If any of y'all had kin in Hays, I can't tell you how sorry I am. Nasty business, that, Mr. Clarke. And it's driving up the tension, as if there wasn't enough already."

"Well, it's just like what happened in Lawrence all them years back. Best I can figure is that some o' Quantrill's boys didn't get shot or hanged after that and they're back for more. Or maybe they were prisoners o' war and got released in some trade. I think the two are linked somehow, but honestly I've got my hands full with keepin' the peace in Dodge. We've got some Confederate irregulars and gangs that wander into town, but I don't think they had anything to do with it, though I might be wrong."

He shook his head. "Tell Dog Eye I said hello, and ask him about all this Hays mess too. That man knows everything that goes on in this town. He'll probably be better on that than I am. I've got my hands full with keepin' the peace."

The bird atop Caleb's head stirred, hackles rising slightly, and pronounced one word: "Avakhi."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:10, Wed 23 Jan 2013.

"Dog Eye," Morgan repeated the name as he finished affixing his badge, "We'll definitely ask him about any folks from Hays. If I might ask, Marshal. I have something of a personal interest in what happened over there. If you happen to hear anything about those killings, would you pass it on to me?"

Coraline smiled at Randolph's appearance, but the smile fell a trifle as she was compared to a BIRD.  She gave the black bird a sidelong glance, not really trusting the creature or the crazy Siberian-Russian-Indian-Nomad-Shaman person that talked to it like it was a person.  Rather than pin the star on her dress, she slipped it into her handbag and took a moment to familiarize herself with the map that Earp had given them.

"Hmmm...or maybe Quantrill hisself is back from under the ground, fightin' his war again." Gabby mutters as he turns over the information. If Radcliffe could reanimate the dead, why not someone else?

He nodded. "Well, I guess it's off to the saloon!" He starts heading out of the law office.

"If more word comes to me than what we've had so far, I'll send it your way," the law man said.

---

As soon as Gabby walked out of the jailhouse, he almost ran into a mule drawn cart that was standing still right in his path. Whatever was in the open cart was covered by a cloth that was tied up, holding it down. A wrinkled hand quickly shot up in front of Gabby, clutching a vial of an oily blue liquid, and he saw that its holder was an old Chinese man that looked familiar.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:06, Thu 24 Jan 2013.

"One dlink, even aged man rike you prease woman for entire night! If election rast fo mo than fo hour, call doctor!" The old Chinese man seemed to cackle, but held up his product for sale anyway. "Onry THLEE dolla!"

The man, Gabby recognized a moment later, was Ming Chin, and old Chinese miner that he used to know way back when they were both working claims in Sutter's Mill together. Ming had always been a hard working man with a fairly serious temperament, though he always kept a good sense of humor and though he never had much to give, he had a generous spirit. Superstitious and homesick, Ming was known to collect all manner of knick knacks that made their way over from his homeland. He had little income for luxuries, but whatever was there for it seemed to finance the purchase of some symbol of good fortune or the other.

He seemed a little different. More youthful and vigorous, the visibly old miner held himself with a stronger posture and walked with a more confident gait than ever before. He had an easy smile about him, as if he had some joke or mischief on his mind. He grinned at the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:10, Thu 24 Jan 2013.

Gabby grins. "Ming Chin? That you, you cheeky so-and-so?" He pushes the bottle away. "Now you know for a damned fact I don't need no Chinese snake oil to please my woman! Get that stuff outta my face, and tell me how the Hell you've been! What in blazes are you doin' in Dodge?"

Ming Chin leaned forward and peered at Gabby for a moment, squinting before exclaiming cheerfully, "Gabby-Claahk! Not snake oir! Tladitional Chinese medicines, magical cures and lemedies for any plobrem. Maybe almost any plobrem. Not evely problem but crose. Vely crose. Also tell fortunes! You want me to tell your fortune? Free for you. Gabby-Clarke!" As he goes on speaking, the thickness of his accent seems to thin out, revealing a bit of a charade.

Pointing to the others. "Twenty five cent for any of you. Best fortune teller in west or east! Ming Chin!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:48, Thu 24 Jan 2013.

Morgan grinned as he listened to the man's pitch. He'd never been much for having his fortune told. It had always seemed best to Morgan to simply take each day as it came. Even so, he glanced at the rest of the group, curious to see if anyone would take Chin up on his offer.

Coraline filed out of the law office and stared in bemusement at the old mining coot talking to the old Asian coot.  She lifted an eyebrow at the mention of fortune.  "I want my fortune read!"  She produced the necessary two-bits and waved it at the Chinaman.

After a smooth hop down to Morgan’s shoulder and back to navigate the doorway, Korpi surveyed the scene, noting where the ruffled human with the skirt was so carelessly cacheing her shiny things and which items carried on the mule might be edible.

Sky Dog watched from the porch shadow, intrigued by what scraps of the foreigner's conversation he could decipher but aware of tales the old shaman had told him: 'albino' might well be an ingredient in any of these wares, animals sliced into strips of white pelt, humanity pounded out of the once-human. He scratched the dog's ears pensively then slipped away in search of the saloon.

Ming Chin deftly removed the coins from her hand and seemed to make them disappear to some place unknown, likely a compartment in his sleeve. He leaned forward and examined her face for a moment, looking at her from different angles.

"I can see upon your face, the future written like a map though it is the reading of the key that you may yet discover. You are the Queen of Hearts, and many suitors will you have, and many will be turned away, more than have already seen such a fate so far - though there will be the one, a great love, and a greater lover. A long life is writ for you, but it is yours to gamble away, as you will play in the most dangerous game of all. You will find wealth one day, perhaps by the fall of the cards or the toss of the dice."

One of his hands crawled a straight line in the air, and he said, "Some of these things, I know not what they mean but they are yours to discover in time. I see a long journey for you, where you will meet a queen, wear a shroud of gloom, breathe in the ocean air and climb a tall tower. You walk with a man of shadows, and a compass points true north. A western meadowlark flies in the blue sky, a worm in its mouth! You will see in time these things, then you must find Ming Chin again, tell him what they mean, eh?" He grinned up at her.

"Come, come. We go." He beckoned with his hand and began guiding his mule across the tracks. "Ming Chin knows you are about business, and knows where you must go."

Sky Dog, who had paused to touch the warm metal of the second line, looked up at the hoof-clatter and tremor of movement on the earth to see the miniature mule train heading close behind him.

He straightened with alarcity like a corvid set up from a corpse, flaring back a step but not about to take off. A metallic glint speared from his fingers: the yet-unplaced star turned over and toyed with, catching the light.
"Do you chase me, Grandfather?" he asked, laughing.

"I fear I would spend my last days chasing you, who have come so far. These legs no longer have the strength for such perilous journeys," he said, a glint of amusement in his eye. Despite his advanced age, he did not look to be suffering from a frail condition, though whether or not he suffered from dementia was anyone's guess.

"Do you run from me, grandson?"

"Yes! If no open doorway tells you where I am going, maybe." Sky Dog grinned, a certain knowledge of tradecraft hinting about the edges.

"Ha! Ha, it depends whether you are after a grandson to help you with demons out of their bottles or the moss-hair from my antlers," he replied, allowing the little cavalcade to come level. The shaman reached into some pocket hidden by his hood, brought his hand out clinking softly. "What will you trade me for five tiger bells?"

"Ah! A collector of the rare treasures, I see," he said, turning to fish around in his wagon as he continued to talk. "I have no need of moss hair of antlers, or demons in bottles."

After a moment he turned around and stared at the tiger bells for a moment. "What do they do?" He leaned forward and touched the bells with a finger, his eyes widening slightly. He clutched a small silk wrapped bundle in one hand, and unwrapped it, revealing a small jade figurine of a jolly looking fat little man in a cross-legged seated position with a sword across his legs.

"For that, I will trade you this," he said, presenting the figure.

Gabby smiles as Ming Chin goes about his business with Coraline and the strange fella from far away. Ming hadn't ever been this happy as a miner.

"Life seems to have been good for you, Chin." He says. "Where did you learn this gift o' tellin' fortunes, and what have I got in store fer me?"

Sky Dog tilted his head a little. "They make the right noise," he said, grave as shaman buisness might be, then attended to the shine of the silk and the greenish glitter of the object revealed.

Once he'd leant back and squinted this way and that to finally focus on the details Sky Dog gave a little bark-cough of sheer delight. "Ah! Korpi-!" He motioned to Ming to hold the little idol higher and called out to his sister in an excited clatter of Evenki like so many iron bells, ending in a chorused 'Yapansky bog!' and doubled laughter.

The shaman ends up pink and half-breathless, but manages to get hold of himself and exchanges treasures, not without very obvious glee. "Done, then. Ha!" For all his mirth, the jade gets a certain reverence. Sky Dog indicated Gabby as a waiting customer and held up his free arm for Korpi to land on and come look.

Ming Chin seemed only amused by the shaman's display, but then returned his attention to Gabby. Beneath his shirt, an old and worn medallion dangled, just the sort of trinket he had always been known to collect. He paused and shook the bells. With a satisfied nod, he tucked them away in his cart, and then lead his mule drawn cart onward.

"It is something that simply came to me. I had always known of the talent of looking at a man's face and seeing his fortune, but one day it came. When I look now I see things. Symbols. Images. Ideas. I see them and I know them for what they are sometimes, but most of the time I am not certain what they mean."


"When I look at you, Gabby-Clarke I see around you a man with a black hat who you will confront, and a jewel of unspoken value. One dog that you know, one dog you will come to know. A curse that has long followed you. A mining pick that draws forth money from where it strikes. I know not what they mean, but I see them."

Randolph's professional curiosity -- as a writer of interesting stories, not as a lawman -- is piqued by the old Chinaman. He strides after him, waiting politely as Ming Chin finishes his business with Gabby and Sky Dog.

He clears his throat then and a quarter glitters between thumb and forefinger.

"Tell me, Mr. Ming Chin, what do you read in my face?"

Daniel had been the last to leave the law office and trailed near the rear of the group. He smiled when he figured out that his uncle had discovered an old friend. Today seemed to be a day for old acquaintances and friends.

Daniel was curious about his future, but was also wary of what knowing even a hint of it might be. What if the man didn't see much of anything? Would that imply Daniel's demise was just around the corner? And would he ever be able to sleep again if that were the response?

For now, he contented himself with walking near the back of the group. He listened to the exchanges, but his head was on a swivel looking for the familiar colors and shape of the barber's pole. Surely, there was at least one in Dodge.

Taking the coin, he glanced at Randolph and studied his features. Spinning the coin deftly between his fingers, it soon after seemed to disappear in his hands, perhaps down his sleeve or into some other pocket.

"Shadow man, though you walk in the light. A pen and a paper, and a book. A cloud of smoke and soot. I see a woman in your future, a woman in your past - the same woman. A dangerous woman. Be wary of her. She can destroy you, or you her, though I hope you are the survivor for she is bad. I see you weaving a web, and drawing a net that consumes the shadows. Beware the knife, and soon careful that your fingers do not get burned."

As they approached the corner, he pointed down the street. "There is where you are bound. Eye of the Dog."

Having hesitated only a moment before gliding to her brother's offered arm, Korpi insisted on tasting the little statue's head just in case. Delicately gripping the stone with the end of her beak, she first tested with the tastebuds edging the soft lining of her mouth then turned her head sideways, pincering the idol to taste it with her tongue. "Korb." she concluded, letting go. "Yapansky bog!"

This set Sky Dog off again. Korpi edged up to his shoulder and nipped at the side of his hood to get him to pay attention. Sky Dog listened and murmured a regretful agreement. Finding himself a few paces ahead of the mule he turned back to Ming, his pale left hand raised like the spread wing of a bird. "We are well pleased, Grandfather. If this...knowing, it is a new thing, yes? A word from a man with a young, best-strong heart - avoid the corpses."

"This is how I find out as a child, that it is not usual to feel the echoes of the past in things: I asked dead flesh and bones I found in the forest, 'what happened to the man who wore you, that he has his head in pieces?' - Ha! It was a kossak sabre - I felt that, ha, in the head, it almost killed me. So." Sky Dog touched his forehead with the blade of his hand, pausing. "I would say to a man unused to the Long Branch not to look where a corpse will go, I fear it is tempting the ghosts to pull him over."

Advice rather obliquely given, Sky Dog wandered on down to the building pointed out. Korpi looked back, swaying with his movement, and watched Daniel, wondering what he was looking for.

Daniel's curiosity had been piqued by the elderly Chinese fellow, who seemed to have something unique to say about everyone. Certainly it was worth two bits for the entertainment value alone.

He flashed his own silver in the direction of Ming with a smile. "I'm intersted what you see as well, Min'."

Ming grinned as he took the coing, glad to be making out like one of the Righteous Bandits, but took on a serious expression when studying the boys face. "A young face, but ancient in other ways. I know very little about what these mean, though it has something to do with the Christian God I think. A cross, a temple, two knights on a horse, a sword, a chest, a cup, a shard of wood. You will climb a great tower, fight a great enemy. Travel far to the west. Slay the thieves of darkness. Fight wolves in clothed in sheep-skin. Much fighting for you, in your future - there is no avoiding it. Find strong allies."

Morgan listened intently as Chin spoke to Hawthorne, Darling, and d'Alex in turn. The old man's words gave him pause. With all of the strange things wandering the plains, was it so outlandish to believe that he could read the future? Morgan's hand went to his pocket, his fingers clasping a coin there.

And he stopped himself. However wise Chin was, Morgan didn't need the fortune teller to tell him what lay ahead. He already knew. The outcome was certain. Inevitable. The only thing Morgan didn't know was when.

And he was content not knowing.

Glancing at the rest of the group, he waited to see if anyone else wanted to hear Chin's insights before they sought out Dog Eye.

Darling extends his arm to Cora, smiling wryly, "I should have thought I'd at least rate the sobriquet 'Shadow Gentleman.' No matter. Do you fancy a sarsaparilla to cut the Dodge City dust from your throat, Miss Hawthorne?"

He looked expectantly at Caleb, and then winked, turning quickly to Gabby and moving again back to lead his mule. "Ming Chin must go on. Fortunes to tell. Chinese traditional medicines to sell. You look for me if you need help, Gabby-Clarke." Without further ado, the strange old Chinese man began leading his mule drawn cart of unknown wares off down the street.

Daniel gave the Chinese snake oil salesman a friendly wave goodbye. "Nice ta meetcha, Min'. And may, uh, fortune smile 'pon ya." He wasn't exactly sure why he said that, but it seemed appropriate for the situation.

He then turned to his uncle. "Interstin' fella that. Sounds like yer gonna strike it rich 'gain."

The Dog Eye Saloon was a solid frame building. It looked to be rough place, the sort that catered to the tough crowds that didn't want to party under the watchful eyes of the town deputies, like all the saloons out on Front Street. So early in the day, though, it was fairly empty except for a lone drunk sitting at the side of the bar.

Hank "Dog Eye" McNary stood behind the bar, polishing glasses that already looked clean. A chubby, balding man with a beard and a lazy eye, Hank had a friendly look on his face and beckoned them over to the bar as they entered. "Come on over. Y'all the folks Deputy Earp sent over? He told me I could expect a few new faces sometime today. Anyone want a beer? First one's on the house."

Korpi took and dropped the jade into Sky Dog's hood as he lowered it and sprang from his elbow into the air, sliding to a hopping halt on the counter in front of McNary.

"Corb," she announced, bowing, and pattered off along the bar to investigate the drunk's little forest of shiny glass.

"Yes," her brother affirmed, then frowned in the concentrated manner of one trying to navigate foreign idioms. "It is so - where is the fire?"

"Ain't no fire in here," he said, filling up a beer for Sky Dog at his affirmative response. "Maybe in the winter, when it gets cold. If you're feelin' cold now you should see the doc."

Sky Dog picked up the beer with interest and a nod of thanks but no sign of being about to drink it. "Haha, no - too hot!" Sky Dog smelled the beer, interested, then continued to the barkeep: "I am badly needing to find the hair-cutting man for the heat, it defeats us...but you have a cooking-place, yes? Maybe iron? Or a thing that makes light?"

"Oh, well we do got a kitchen. I suppose there's a fire in there when there's food on - didn't think about it like that. As for gettin' your hair cut, we can surely find us a barber without too much trouble." He looked at Sky Dog curiously, for indeed the man was a curious sight.

After a pause, he said, "You ain't from 'round here, are you?"
This message was last updated by the player at 05:50, Fri 17 May 2013.

"This way?" Sky Dog pointed at the nearest unexplored way out of the room that looked like it might head stovewards, moving a couple of steps in that direction.

"Ah, no, not me - this skin, it has no colour: my ears, my neck...without the hair, a few minutes the sun is coming so, into, through the hood - ha! I am more burnt than a red Irish. Igor, who came with me from the West, far west and across the ice, he needs...barber very badly. His blood is still thick! Myself, perhaps I will find the river or the Chinese launder-y woman will shout 'gwei!' and throw water at me again." He looked at the beer again, this time more as though looking after someone else's drink whilst thirsty.

At the other end of the bar, Korpi eyed up the drunk, trying to make out whether he was dead or not.

"That would be it, but you don't need to go in there. If you're looking to order some food, just say the word." As was to be expected, he didn't seem to make head or tail of most of what Sky Dog was talking about.

Korpi edged up very, very slowly until the slumped human's face was in beak range, angling the ebon spearpoint just right...and nipped the 'corpse' on the nose, springing away with a whoop. "Ko-wip!"

This having some rumbling effect, Korpi skittered away, watched a moment, then resolved not to be entirely disappointed and hijacked a shot glass.

Meanwhile, Sky Dog looked perplexed and held up the beer. "I do need to go there...I cannot accept hospitality in a new place without first greeting your hearth, the spirits would be offended."

Finding it too heavy and awkward to fly any distance with, Korpi herded the shot glass across the floor to eventual rest at Morgan's boot, nudging it against the same and looking up as if to say 'for you!' "Korp."

The drunk man gave a yelp at having been nipped on his nose, stumbling back, knocking over himself and the chair and clutching at his nose. He looked at Sky Dog, Hank, and the bird, and wandered up the stairs.

"Is that bird yours? Deputy or not, I can't have it biting my customers. Not that he's much of a customer, but it won't be good if it happens to somebody else."

"She is my sister, yes..." Sky Dog glanced down at what was a dark blur to him at this range and angle and shot her a 'behave' kind of frown. "But Korpi is gentle, gentle - the...customer, he is surprised, no injury." Restless, the shaman went and righted the abandoned stool. "She was only waking him up, to be sure his little eyes were not for pecking out and eating. It is a good thing, yes?" Still, whatever he said to the raven in his own language sounded stern enough to be a caution. Sky Dog turned back to the barkeep.

"Only the very wicked need to be afraid of Korpi...and perhaps the little rats, if they are juicy." Since McNary didn't seem bent on stopping him, Sky Dog started off to find that stove.

"On th' house?" Daniel repeated, though phrased it as a query due to his surprise. It sounded an awful lot like 'free'. "I'll take one."

He grabbed a seat and was about to respond to Sky Dog's need for a barber, but didn't feel right about interrupting his peculiar conversation with the local barkeep. He could mention it later. As Sky Dog and his pet sister proceeded to provide no shortage of amusement, Daniel quietly took occasional drinks of his beer.

Morgan nodded at McNary's offer of a beer. "Thank you kindly," he said, shaking his head as Korpi snapped at the drunkard's nose. Never a dull moment around the shaman and his sister.

Returning his attention to McNary, Morgan said, "If I could trouble you for some help, sir, I'm trying to find out more about the recent happenings in Hays. I understand that some survivors from the town might have fled here to Dodge. Is there any truth to that?"

In reply to Daniel d'Alex (msg # 88):

"Take care, Chin!" Gabby says as the old man wanders off, and follows Danial into the Saloon.

"I dunno about that." he says. "Sure, it's encouragin', hearin' about valuable jewels an' picks that draw money from the ground, but you know what they say...easy come, easy go. I had that in California, too, and Texas, and both times lost it. He also talked about a curse, don't forget. Findin' the color ain't never been my problem. Keepin' it..." he sighs. "Especially since I got an idea o' who the man in the black hat he was speakin' on is. I saw him just this mornin', afore that damn argument."

Gabby looked around the Dog Eye. "Yeah, I'd like a beer. A bit early for drinkin', but it's only a problem if you don't stop."

his ears perked up a bit at Sky Dog's mention of a 'hair-cutting man'. "Ya'll need a barber?" He asks. "Well, it just so happens my nephew's a barber. Where's this Igor fella?"

Hank poured out a beer for the three men, and then heaved a sigh and sat down behind the bar at a stool that he had for himself.

"Bad business, what happened at Hays. I believe there's two, maybe three survivors. I haven't talked to them myself, but you know, word gets around town. I believe there's some folks up at the Union Church that's puttin' em up. I think it may be a mother and her kids. I don't know much about what happened there. All I know is rumors. Can't put more'n a little stock in those. Most have at least a grain o' truth in 'em, some is all true, and some is all made up. Towns pretty tense, so folks are inclined to keep quiet on it, less they wanna find themselves in a fight."

---

Upon arriving in the small kitchen, Sky Dog finds everything arranged neatly, but a place that's not really cooking anything at the moment. There's a basin for washing dishes, a stove, a pantry and what one would usually expect there, but little else.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:50, Thu 31 Jan 2013.

Sky Dog made straight for the stove, crouching and stirring a little life into breakfast's embers. Abruptly serious, he unlatched the door and flicked the first mouthful of what his host had given onto the coals, murmuring a request to the local spirits to see him and allow him space. A renewal of the pact Dog Eye had surely made to pitch his building and take it from their wilderness.

Closing the stove, Sky Dog finally attended to his thirst. The liquid was cooling, light on the tongue and less bitter than coffee - all in all not unpleasant. Perhaps it was a cooled tea.

Sky Dog had got down half the glass and almost fallen over a bucket by the time he found himself facing the doorframe rather than the doorway and corrected his steps, leaning there. "My...sorry, Uncle, what did you say?"

The shaman's bleached-bone skin hid nothing: it was quite educational to watch the dawn pink rising in the space of two minutes as he stood listening. A little after McNary finished Sky Dog rubbed his nose and pointed at his beer. "This...it has alcohol in it? I think."

He broke into giggles. "Fir poles."

In reply to Sky Dog (msg # 103):

Gabby watches the strange man get a bit drunk. "I said, if your friend Igor needs his hair cut, my nephew Danial's an excellent barber." He points Danial out to Sky Dog.

"Oh come on, I knew he was an Injun. Can't hold his liquor for shit! Of course it has alcohol in it!" he said, wandering over to Sky Dog and taking the beer from him.

"You better come have a seat over here, Deputy. It's a good thing you've got some time before the evenin'. You'd not be able to do much lawin' in this state."

"What for, shit?" Sky Dog asked, puzzled. "Hey! Not so 'of course', this Dodge it is the first big...settlement I stay in; I don't know everything. I know vodka, rice-wine, gin, all the spirit-water with fire colours, yes. They smell different! Do you go away again?"

The argumentativeness subsided as swiftly as it appeared, dissolving into giggles. "I like you. I see why Wyitterp likes you, yes, you are very fair. You are never a law man? I sit." He did, scrubbing at the heat along his cheekbone and at his nose. This only lasted until Gabby's words registered, however.

"Ah!" He nodded thanks to Gabby and addressed Daniel with animation, eventually getting off the stool again. "You are a barber, yes, with the razor? For the beard? Please, I need you to shave my caribou."
Whether this had lost something in translation or otherwise, it seemed genuinely urgent.

Daniel smiled at the exchanges that were going on around him. He was certainly not concerned that he would be bored at any point in the near future. "Thanks fer th' drink, Hank. Any sorts o' trouble or interstin' stuff going on about these parts?"

Before the man could answer his eyebrows knotted together as he slowly turned toward Sky Dog. "Yer care boo? Beard too big? Yah, I can take care o' that. An th' local barber won' even mind me fringin' on his terrtory."

He turned back to Hank. "Where's th' local barber, anyhow?"

The bartender cocked an eyebrow and looked curiously at both Sky Dog and Daniel.

"Well, you two are chock full o' questions. I'd better at least answer a couple before I get a whole lot more. I guess this is your first time to Dodge City if you're wondering if there's any trouble about. There's always trouble about of one kind or another here - which I suppose is why they've got extra deputies everywhere. Nothin' particular to take note of. There is an old lady with a booth preachin' temperance...as far as I'm concerned, I think she's trouble. Pace yer territory and see if you think there's any trouble spots. Most I do is stand around in here."

"Now, as far as the barber goes...I'm surprised you think I look like I know where to find a barber, but I do, of course. You'll find one if you go all the way up to Spruce street. Spruce and Bridge. Or Spruce and Third. I mix 'em up. It's been a while since I've been. As far as yer deputizin' goes, though, I suggest you take a walk 'round the block."

Korpi marched her way down the bar, past Daniel's drink, and pulled at Sky Dog's sleeve until he put a hand on the counter and leant on it. Satisfied his tilt wasn't about to turn critical, the raven angled her head and gave the barkeep what might have been a grave stare whilst Sky Dog was still giggling at Dog Eye's curious look.

Eventually the shaman recovered himself. "No, no...the nirku, on the caribou, it is more like beard than...than the hair on Clemya," he gestured at the dog, "-but stronger. You can't cut it with a knife! Or the shears - it is made against the weather, but poor Igor, he is heated up inside, with the thick blood, and always breathing in the heat. He is very sad." Sky Dog looked pained.

"You shave all of the caribou - lots of shaving, yes? I will pay you in silver, or all the pretty beads, or dollars later, from Wyitterp. Come! We go now, come back later, maybe we find the booth that is preaching on the way." Sky Dog tugged at Daniel's sleeve like a child, equally open and earnest.

Korpi looked at the pair a few seconds, then took off and resumed her perch atop Morgan's hat.

Daniel nodded with a smile at the barman and with a raised eyebrow and sigh at the Russian-Siberian-Indian. "Tempernce, eh? That I gotta see. Mebbe get her talkin' to the right folk. Can't complain 'bout the message." Maybe he'd still chat with that one about something, regardless.  "Guess we'll trust to our eyes'n'ears fer th'rest."

He turned to regard Sky Dog. "I'll give it muh best shot, but I gotsta priortize or at least co-ordnate with our fella deputies. Where's yer care boo settin' anyhow? At th'stable?"

Coraline took Randolph's arm and allowed him to escort her, still thinking about the Chinaman's predictions.  Most of it just sounded like driveling bullshit made up by a lunatic, but the part about her gambling her life away... that struck a chord with her.  He couldn't have possibly know about her love of cards or poker.  So why choose those particular words?  Her brow furrowed as she puzzled over the other things he'd said, wondering if any of them would really come true.  Distracted, as they walked into the saloon, she completely missed the offer of a beer and only started listening about halfway through the conversation.

Randolph notes Coraline's pensive mood and does nothing to disturb her thoughts, merely conducting her into the saloon and seating her at a table. He declines the offered beer with a shake of his head and pays scant attention to talk of barbers and caribou and temperance preachers.

As Coraline starts to rouse from her brown study, he smiles at her. "What can I bring you from the bar, Miss Hawthorne?"

"Yes. In the day, he is there." This seemed to remind the shaman of something. "Also, do not be alarmed my... ..."

Sky Dog fought for a word that was just not coming, "..off-the-ground-carrier, it is full of eels."

Sky Dog looked at the other deputies. "Caleb Morgan will be going to people at the church, yes? Morgan, you will maybe take Clemya, or Korpi if she wants? Often when a village is killed, it burns all the words away, with the young ones, except to the animals," he said. To judge by his tone, randomised violence had long become a fact of life as present as avalanche or summer forest fires along the Russian frontier.

"Darling Shadow-man and Hawthorn, Dog Eye will know where they go. Wyitterp he is the law man, yes, but hehe-" Sky Dog coughed and rubbed at his nose, "-it is Dog Eye who hears the settlement, what it wants, what it does. I think. Dog Ear!" he grinned a tipsy grin at the bartender. "Maybe we are kin, maybe. I am Sky Dog."

He held up a finger with the solemnity of the slightly drunk. "I promise not to sniff you. ...but you come soon, Dalix, please - the day heats up. We will bring back the glass."

"Nothing, but thank you Mister Darling.  We only just had breakfast, so I am content for now."  She glanced to the others that had been deputized.  "Do you all have a plan of where you would like to patrol?  We should probably coordinate our efforts so that the town is well covered in case of trouble.  I am not at all interested in breaking up a round of fisticuffs should they break out, so it would be beneficial to know where the nearest deputy was in case assistance is needed."

Randolph asks McNary for a shot and takes it back to the table to sit with Coraline.

"Marshall Morgan, you're our experienced lawman. How should we go about policing our little patch of Dodge City?

"Two pairs patrolling every hour with another pair here at the Dog Eye in reserve? Maybe Daniel and Sky Dog as one patrol, Clarke and I as the other, you and Miss Hawthorne as the reserve? The patrols could take a half hour off in every four with the reserve taking their circuit perhaps.

"I expect that any plan we make will get altered after tonight at any rate."

He sips off half his shot.

"Who is going to take rooms here at the Dog Eye? I believe I'll keep mine at the Dodge House."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:35, Sun 03 Feb 2013.

Daniel considered the questions and the comments from all sources before giving his opinions. He was a little surprised that Randolph wanted a patrol with Gabby, though perhaps that was the best way for the pair to clear the air, as it were.

"If ya think yer sister'll have luck understandin' or talkin' ta the young ones, I think our first priorty is goin' ta find the Hays folks. Then I c'n try ta see ta yer moose. 'fore nightfall I also wanna check on th' tempernce booth. See the particulars there. An I wanna chat with th'local barber. See if there's any rumors he gots. In that order."

He paused briefly, then added, "As fer patrols, I'ma thinkin' bein' a mounted patrolman has its advantages. Presumebly Jock is th' only horse we got, though, right? What 'bout yer care boo, Sky Dog? Do ya sit his back when ya travel?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Sun 03 Feb 2013.

"In those crowds? I suppose . Never done much lawin' but there's not much room for riding. You can still do it, but it'll take you forever to get anywhere. If it were me, I'd just walk. Any of y'all gonna stay here tonight? I kept rooms in case deputies needed 'em but, if not I gotta try to let 'em out soon as I can."

"Yes - Igor is my kujjai, my steed." Sky Dog said, his intonation suggesting the word was the nearest translation for the one before rather than a poetic archaisim. "...but I also do not think a caribou with his pointy antlers is a good idea in crowds. He would be afraid of the loud drunkens and people shooting the air for the festival and fight to run away."

"I will not sleep here - thank you, no. Corners..." Sky Dog waved in a vague manner about the room. "I do not trust them. We will still sleep outside the town." He rubbed absently at the flush in his cheeks.

Gaby raised an eye at the suggestion of him pairing up with Mr. Darling on their patrols, but it would give him more of a chance to watch the man, and that was fine with him.

"I reckon that sounds fine." Gabby says. "I'll hang up my spurs here for the week, if you don't mind Mr. McNary. Dodge House is nice, but I reckon my finances can't take the strain for a whole week. Not until we done get paid, at least."

Daniel shrugged at the talk of mounted versus not. Seemed like the street was wide enough and muddy to boot. But he would find out for himself quickly whether it was too crowded or not. "I'ma stay here, too." He added. He had no desire to be away from his uncle, and this place seemed to be the center of action. Plus this dog seemed trustworthy enough and was recommended by Wyatt Earp himself.

He looked about. "Fer now, I think we should get ta those folk from Hays." Daniel chugged the remainder of his beer and then set the glass down loudly. "Ain't no time like th' present."

He started toward the door, intent on finding his way to the widow and her folk.

"I think remaining on foot will be the most practical," Morgan offered thoughtfully, "especially once the streets become crowded with the celebration."

"Staying in pairs is a sound idea. To my thinking, it might be best if we had two pairs of deputies patrolling our section of town and the last pair somewhere in the center of our district, ready to respond to any trouble that comes up. Here at the Dog Eye might be the best spot for that pair. We can rotate the duty amongst us, so no one's stuck with walking the whole time."

He took a drink of his beer. Looking to McNary, he said, "I'd like a room here as well, Mr. McNary."

Standing as Daniel started to exit, Morgan spoke to the barber. "I'd like to come with you, if you don't mind Daniel. I'm interested to hear what the folks from Hays can tell us."

Sky dog took a deep breath and leant away from the bar, gripping it until his balance felt secure. The people of Hays were not his tribe, not even close. The conditioned sense of wrongness in interfering with others' buisness warred with the urge to find and help anyone who might need it. Hopefully he wouldn't frighten them too much - at least he seemed to get "white rat" and "freak" here more often than "ghost" or "snow-devil". The deep breath came out as giggles.

Sky Dog let go of the bar and padded after Daniel, holding onto the doorway as an idea struck. The shaman untied a sun-faded blue bandanna from his wrist, fished it from his sleeve and tied it about his neck before attaching the tin star to that.

"I'll be keeping my room at the Dodge House as well," she replied to Randolph.  While visiting the saloon at night for a rowdy game might be exciting, she shuddered at the thought of sleeping in one of the man's beds.  No telling what sort of bugs or critters would be lurking in the sheets.

"Do you feel like an afternoon stroll, Miss Hawthorne?" Randolph asks. He explains his intention to walk their 'beat' in daylight, taking time to step into any shops and establishments along the way to introduce himself to the proprietors, walks down the alleys, and extends his route along the opposite sidewalks as well. By the time he returns to the Dog Eye, he should have a fair idea of the ground and its regular inhabitants.
This message was last updated by the GM at 04:02, Tue 05 Feb 2013.

"That would be lovely, Mister Darling." She offer a slight smile, thinking that a stroll through town would be a good way to scout out possible problem areas.

It might have been early in the day, but as the conversation had proceeded there were already a few people in the saloon. In between words with the deputies - each of whom Hank introduced - Dog Eye served them up drinks, which they took away to their tables promptly. The man whose nose had been nipped by Korpi stumbled down the stairs, and stayed generally clear of the Injun and his bird when possible, though he kept a wary eye on the thing.

"Pardon me," he said politely, clearing his throat. He seemed to be well dressed, though his clothes were a bit tattered and dirty, he was a bit unkempt, and he smelled of liquor and more. Still, he was fairly spoken and bore a distinguished Carolina accent. "But I was wondering if I might impose upon one of your good graces for the small charity of a beverage. I regret that I cannot offer recompense for it at present, but I am waiting for a check to arrive at the First Bank of Dodge tomorrow so I can continue my journey west."

"Allow me, sir," Randolph produces a silver dollar from his vest pocket and places it on the bar, "Randolph Darling, at your service." He makes a half-bow with a half-smile.

"Thank you, sir. Very kind of you. Very kind indeed. I am most grateful for this kindness to a man fallen on hard times. You know, I've always said even during the war times that there were some true gentlemen and scholars on the other side of the line, and I maintain that to this day. Whatever else may divide us, especially in these trouble times, let there always be such men of grace and dignity on both sides, that something good may come of it all. God bless you, sir," he said, dipping his head in respect to Randolph.

The bartender poured him a shot of whiskey and a beer, and handed two quarters back to Randolph. The man took the shot, raised it in a toast to Randolph and slammed it back. "Thank you again, sir," he said, before wobbling on over to a corner of the bar with his beer. Another glass was waiting at an empty table. He slid into the car and leaned against the wall in kind of a tired slump and sipped at the beer, eyes downcast.

Randolph waved off the change, "Keep it for him, if you will, and keep that for yourself." He added a dime to the coins and looked over at Coraline, "Shall we walk then, Miss Hawthorne?"

"That was very kind of you, Mister Darling," she said as she rose to her feet.  The man over in the corner was given a brief glance.