Darling takes the letter and looks it over.

Sky Dog took his hand from the glass, frowning, then started as a shot rang out outside, flinching away from the window at another. His frown only deepened at turning to find the room empty of all but himself and two thirds of a man.

The shaman hesitated, reasoning that the others were likely gone to investigate and that Wyitterp would soon be there. On the other hand, bare minutes had passed since seeing how badly iron devils could treat each other, and it was the one white man he trusted implicitly who was probably being shot at.

Moving swiftly, Sky Dog took out a twist of paper and scattered salt along the sill and the threshold of the door as he backed out, murmuring a ward against the man's ghost. This done, he turned, drew his blade and took the stairs two at a time. There was an agonised scream from outside as he crossed the lower floor, turning his steps to a cautious hunter's lope. A brief, wild grin touched his lips as he considered how foolish it would be if he were shot here, though it faded as he moved into the night, all senses alert.

Daniel followed Clementine in the direction that Randolph had suggested. Clementine sniffed happily along in that direction, but at Chestnut Street, she looked either distracted or as if she had no ability to determine what to do next. "S'alright, girl. Woulda been quite the mir'cle had ya been able ta do better."

Of course that didn't mean that no one saw a person emerge from that particular direction. Daniel walked across Chestnut and looked at the area from which he emerged to see if there were any shops or saloons or the like where someone might have seen the man they sought.

Spotting the Cowtown Saloon directly across the way, Daniel headed in the direction of that establishment to see if he might get lucky.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:38, Fri 08 Mar 2013.

Darling watches for a moment, as McNary and Gabby try to talk to the woman.
Turning to Coraline, he asks, "Shall we take another look at the murder scene?"

"You know, I think it's best that we let her get some rest for tonight. I think the morning might be better for questions. She might be more inclined to talk then. Right now, it don't like she's gonna do ya much good," the barkeep said to Gabby and the others.

"I seen this look before, in the war, back when I was a soldier."

Randolph turns back from the door. "Someone ought to stay with her, or she ought to be secured in the jail. I expect Earp will make that call when he gets here."

"Secured in the jail? Are you out of your goddamn mind, deputy?" he said angrily.

"Can you think of a safer place for her, if whoever chopped up the fellow next door comes looking for the witness?

"But, as I say, it's Earp's call."

"I don't often agree with Mr. Darling, but I think he's right." Gabby says quietly. "The jail would be a safer place to hold her, and I can stay with her until the mornin'. The only other place I could think of would be the church that's takin' care o' the Hays folks. Either way, she should be moved so the maniac what did this don't find her if she decides to come back."

---

Clementine follows behind Danial, glad that he didn't seem angry at her failure to find anything.

"The room straight on, down the building," Sky Dog told Earp, seeing a man paused on the stairs, then spoke to Walter, installing the ex-soldier at a table. "Where is worst?"

Hank grumbled something under his breath, but finally relented, somewhat sulkily. "Well, I suppose you're right about that. I better get back downstairs and tend to my saloon before some drunk makes off with all the whiskey." He headed back down the stairs, running into Earp on the way, who spoke to him briefly and offered him some money that McNary refused, before heading up himself. McNary brought Walter a bottle of whiskey and a glass. "Whiskey. Alcohol. It's for him, not for you and it's on the house," he said trying to make sure that Sky Dog understood, shaking a warning finger at the native. "Don't mind Injuns, but y'all can't hold your liquor for nothin'. We already saw how that went with those three sips of beer you took earlier." McNary wandered back to his bar, but kept a close eye on the table where the Siberian sat with the wounded young man.

Walter thanked McNary, and with his free hand opened the bottle and poured himself a short glass of it. Putting the bottle down, he took a sip of the fiery liquor and grimaced slightly. He pointed to his arm. "That fella came and done set it, but it still hurts somethin' mighty fierce. I don't know what else. Mostly just bleedin' I guess. I prolly gonna have some real bad cuts and a swolled up face tomorrow. Least they didn't get my good hand, or I'd be useless. Next time...I dunno, I think those fellas got it out for me."

Deputy Marshal Earp wandered up the stairs quickly after seeing that the young former soldier had been seen to, at least as best as they could do for now. He peeked into the room with the grisly killing scene briefly, taking a quick inventory of things before moving on. Finding an open door, he walked over to where Randolph, Coraline, Gabby and Suzy were. He looked at Suzy with a little bit of sympathy. Once upon a time, he had worked at a brothel as a bodyguard and he knew the working girls in Suzy's profession put up with a lot. Still, she seemed to be of little use in this situation, so he turned his attention to the others.

"Well, there's been a murder on your watch, deputies. I know, I know, it's not really what we were expecting nor anything y'all could have done about it. Caleb told me the dead man was an Agent. I've seen him around, and knew the man was from Back East. I never figured him for an Agent, though he did seem to have more grit to him than most men. Still, I hope you know it goes without saying that we have to keep that part quiet. I don't want Bob's Boys or the Unionizers rolling up on the Wilderness Riders. As if we didn't have enough trouble in town to deal with without Jayhawkers and militia groups here as well. Last thing Dodge needs is its own little Civil War. We need to keep the gory details out of public earshot too - we really don't need a panic to top it all off."

"Whiskey, I know." Sky Dog's teeth showed in an almost-smile. "Beer...now I am warned of it also." Sky Dog tensed his suddenly-cold spine against a shiver, abruptly aware of the breath he'd just taken. Memory played across the surface of his thoughts like wind over endless snow: lying there for the entirety of that night with sound of his own breath, the whisper of the hearth at the chüm's centre and Korpi's gentle snores, warmth and smoke...and outside, the old shaman not breathing and not breathing and not breathing.

"Hm. You can't move it, no?" Sky Dog moved around the table to inspect the injured arm. "It will need binding, yes - it is good to keep it still. Has Suzie stopped weeping, Dog Eye?"

"I traded some of the snakes like instruments for chai today, it is left in Dalix's room...the warmth would encourage her to drink before her head hurts from crying, I think."

"I will give you the flowers to eat against bruises, if you like, mister," he said to Walter, looking over his skull and neck. "You are half murdered! It is not well they were not told they merit punishment...you want that I should curse them for you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:01, Wed 13 Mar 2013.

"Did you know his name, Marshall Earp? Not for publication, of course.

"Or who he consorted with? Besides Suzy, that is."

"Damn agents, sneakin' around bein' sneaky." Gabby mutters. "I hate all these secrets n' skullduggery." he frowns. "First we got someone claimin' to be William Quantrill runnin' around butcherin' Union folk, then Radcliffe gets snatched by them Agents, and now an Agent gets murdered. It can't be no coincidence."

"What?!!" shouts Randolph, his face darkening with anger, "Radcliffe snatched? From the jail? Goddamit, Earp, I was supposed to have an interview with him in the morning! What sort of jail do you run, deputy?"

He slams his fist against the wall, causing a picture to fall to the floor, it's glass cover shattering.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Tue 12 Mar 2013.

Earp gave Randolph a hard look. "We have higher priorities than your interviews, reporter. What some two penny newspaper does or doesn't get to write about is the least of my concerns, and if the Agency or the Texas Rangers come by and need to take a criminal into their custody, then I'm not very well gonna get in the way. That's what kinda jail I run, the kind where we don't give a shit about reporters. Now, you have a job to do, so get your head outta your ass and do it, deputy," he said glaring at the reporter.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:50, Tue 12 Mar 2013.

Darling draws a deep breath, making a visible effort to get himself under control: "Damn. Forget it."

He shakes his head and stalks over to the murder room, closing the door behind him.

After Randolph left the room, he said to Gabby, "I suppose he's gonna try to get an interview outta that dead body instead."

Unaware of the conflicts going on upstairs, Walter took another sip of the liquor and grimaced, then grinned at Sky Dog. "Yeah, put a curse on 'em for me. I don't think I'll be eatin' any flowers, though. No disrespect."

Gabby scratches at his beard. He hadn't expected that sort of reaction from Darling...maybe he had just been a pushy reporter trying to save his scoop, and not some dastardly Yankee agent. Not that this changed his opinion of the man much...he agreed with Earp.

"I don't know how he'd do that, unless he's plannin' one o' them seance things." That gave him an idea, though. "Say...where is that white injun fella?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:51, Wed 13 Mar 2013.

Coraline frowned at Randolph's outburst and peered after him as the door slammed behind him.  She opened her mouth to comment, but snapped it shut rather quickly.  There had already been too many harsh words spoken between her and Gabby and she didn't have the energy to spare for another long-winded argument.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," she said to the remaining men.  "I think I'll venture downstairs to see what all of that commotion was about."  Leaving them to their discussion, she left the room and passed by the murder scene, walking calmly downstairs to the public area of the saloon.

Sky Dog made a slight gesture away from himself that was probably a shrug and carefully collected a little of the blood that had run under the edge of the dark man's jaw, drawing it along the edge of one of the raven feathers that had been half-holding back a knot of his hair.

"If I see them and they remain wicked, it is done," he assured the injured veteran. "Dog Eye, do we have things to bind and...carry this breaking?" He mimed a sling.

Earp looked at the door that Randolph had gone into, and shook his head. "You talkin' about Sky Dog? He's downstairs last I saw him, with the colored kid that got beat up by Ralphie Simpkins. The next time that asshole causes trouble, I'm gonna run him outta town."

---

"I think I can rustle somethin' up that might could help," Hank said. Heading back into the kitchen, Hank came out with a clean towel and handed it to Sky Dog.

The shaman came to meet Dog Eye halfway, glancing over at the movement on the stairs but making no special acknowledgement of the other deputy's presence. "It is my thought we will need a long cut from the firewood also, for that the bone-ends do not move away from how they are set and make a twisted healing..." He looked to the injured ex-soldier. "Whilst you are still sensible, mister - is it the side with the thumb or the lump of the wrist where comes the pain?"