Morgan continued to regard the map with a frown. "Honestly, my original instinct was to go to Hays. I know it's been many days since the attack occurred, but I also figured it was the best source of potential clues to be had."

"Other than that..," his voice trailed as he thought, "I'm inclined to think we need to look hard at which towns are most noted for their Union sentiment. Anywhere that's especially noted for backing the United States, or that might have had some notable incidents involving their...patriotism, if you will, would make a strong target in my mind."

Looking to Masterson, he gestured to the reporter. "Mr. Darling might be useful in that regard. It could be one of his acquaintances in the newspaper business has covered a story like that."

When Earp spoke, he nodded in agreement. "That's right," he said. "Sometimes, out here, if you don't have people willing to take the law where it's needed, you don't have any law at all."

He couldn't help grinning at the irony of Earp's suggestion. "I've got a bag full of badges in one of my saddle bags. I can deputize everyone in the room, if that's what we need to do."

"I only want one if it is especially shiny and does not clash with my earrings," Coraline joked, having walked in at Caleb's last sentence.  She took the badge that Earp had given her and placed it on his desk.  Though most of the previous day had seen her patrolling the streets with her arm in a sling, she didn't seem to need it any longer.  Her left arm swung normally and without any apparent pain.  "And just what are you boys discussing this morning?  I do hope it has something to with justice."  Her eyes wandered to the man behind bars, lingering for a moment with just a touch of pity.

"We're plannin' to go after the Night Riders what put Hays and them other towns to the torch." Gabby says. "Caleb here was just suggestin' deputizin' the lot of us."

"Cora," the bird invoked in tones of doom from the top of Morgan's hat. "Cora."

Sky Dog had swapped star for horse and was holding the dollars, trying to follow the planning. "I am coming to think that the oaks are not in the Middle World," he mentioned to Darling, then of the map: "Are there places here that are remembered, with oaks? I cannot read your markings. I know that the demon Quanterill is eastward of where he will next attack, and without horse, but the dead ones with him, they are very quick. They will not understand to be arrested, I think."

Daniel nodded at Sky Dog's sentiment. "If they already dead, no need ta arrest 'em. Jus' gotta put 'em down." He also surrendered his badge in trade for the money. It would come in handy when they finally got out west, but there were a few things to take care of first.

He stood near the map, gazing at the others to see if they might have any suggestions concerning Sky Dog's oaks. Daniel didn't have a lot of hope on that count, but it wouldn't be the first time his instincts were wrong.

"Who's already dead?" asked another man, the next fella to let himself in. Clean shaven, he wore a bow tie and had a light colored coat on. "Why are we arresting dead people, Bat?"

"Nobody's arrestin' any dead people, Charlie," said the other man, in what some might recognize as a distinct Virginia accent. "Don't know what the hell they're goin' on about, to be honest."

"Did somebody say we was gonna arrest us some dead folk? What in the hell for?" asked the next man to step through the door. He spoke in a measured Texas drawl, and seemed to take the measure of everyone in the room as he walked in. He wore a shotgun slung over his back, and had a pistol holstered at his waist like he meant to use it.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:52, Mon 29 July 2013.

"Goddammit, nobody's arresting any dead people," said an irritated looking Earp.

"Best make some introductions here. These jokers are Texas Jack Vermillion, Charlie Bassett, and Shotgun John Collins. They're gonna be riding with us, those of us who're going." He went on to introduce the others individually to the three gunmen that had joined them.

"We suspect whoever's runnin' the Night Riders is usin' some Mad Science to raise corpses as footsoldiers." Gabby says to the assembled new arrivals. "Most o' us here have seen it happen. A fella named Vinton Radcliffe stole some o' this technology from an associate and started raisin' the dead out o' his local cemetery on the sly to uses as miners in a silver mine, or maybe just to see if he could do it. From the description we got from the Hays survivors, the soldiers with Quantrill didn't feel no pain when shot, even when shot repeatedly. The dead men we fought didn't feel no pain neither--we had to shoot 'em in the head to put a stop to 'em. After what we done faced on the 4th, I'm guessin' this sort o' technology ain't as rare as I'd hoped."

Morgan greeted each of the men in turn. He listened quietly as Gabby spoke about Radcliffe's machine and the accounts of the survivors of Hays.

Glancing over at Earp, he said, "I'll go fetch those badges." With a smirk, he added, "I'll try to get one polished up on the walk back."

As he opened the door of the office, he glanced up at his passenger. "You coming along, Korpi?"

Korpi looked to her brother, aware something was being asked of her but unsure what. Partway through the translation the raven suddenly became full of enthusiasm, hopping down to Morgan's shoulder in readiness to navigate the doorway.

"Da! Da!" Korpi leant forward as though Morgan meant to take off at a heroic run while the shaman laughed.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Mon 29 July 2013.

"Badges? We don't need no stinkin' badges," he said after Morgan had left.

"I want a badge! And I wanna hear the old guy tell us some more crazy stories," he said, before turning to Gabby.

"So let me get this straight. Bill Quantrill's back from the dead, and he's got a team of mad scientists working for him. They've got a gizmo, whatever it's called, and they're raising zombies from graveyards and using them to work silver mines and I guess as a nighttime occupation, roll around and kill folks as want Kansas to be a Union state?"

"Naw, you don't have that straight at all." Gabby says, chuckling ruefully. He'd kind of expected this. "See, Quantrill, or whoever is usin' his name, wouldn't need a whole team o' scientists...just one to run the process. It's not a gizmo, it's more like an elixir...you know, the sort o' thing Dr. Frankenstein used in that book. Fits right into a black doctor's bag. Radcliffe wasn't in on this. He was just usin' dead folk for the cheap labor...like that rail company down south, the one run out o' New Orleans. The Night Riders, now, they're usin' the corpses as meat shields, sendin' them in first so that folk get scairt when their bullets don't do nothin'. I reckon this fella whose claimin' the name ain't the same man...might be his son, or just some yahoo who liked the name and hated the North enough to use it. His real name is probably somethin' nancyfied like Percival or Jeeves. If you were saddled with that sort o' moniker, wouldn't you want to change it to somethin' more infamous and scary? Especially if you had the notion to rustle up some border ruffians and whack towns full o' Jayhawkers? What we have here is a fella who's damn insecure about his manhood, and thinks that by usin' a scary name and raisn' the dead he's gonna be infamous."

Gabby knew he was embellishing a bit. That was fine. If they DID encounter the Night Riders, this guy would see the truth of things soon enough anyhow.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:22, Mon 29 July 2013.

While Gabby ran off at the mouth, Randolph went along with Morgan.

"I have to admit I don't know much about livestock, Caleb. Would you be willing to help me get a horse and the necessary tack and equipment for the trail? I expect Miss Hawthorne may need some advice as well."

Morgan nodded, realizing as he did that it hadn't occurred to him that Hawthorne and Darling would need mounts. "I'd be glad to," he answered, noting that the reporter had addressed him by his Christian name. He didn't object. He considered Darling his friend.

"I'll confess I'm a bit rusty at buying mounts. I've had my own horse, Whisper, for a little over four years. What we should probably do is speak to Masterson. As the Sheriff, he'll know who raises quality horses around Dodge. I'll also bend his ear about who the best saddlemaker in town is. We'll make certain you both have reliable horses when we head out."

Glancing over at Darling, he asked, "If you don't mind me asking, have you ridden much?"

In reply to Caleb Morgan (msg # 29):

"I'm grateful for whatever assistance you and Masterson can provide. I suppose we'll need bedrolls and such, too.

"Back East I used to go out about once a week for a canter around the park, but I haven't done any hard riding or cross country since I was a kid in New Mexico. I expect it'll come back to me pretty quick, though I'll likely be sore for a few days."

Coraline studied the newcomers with interest, quite pleased to be in the company of so many capable men.  She gave them each a bold smile before returning her attention to Earp.  "Mister Earp, when do you intend for us to leave?  I am certain we could all be packed and ready within the hour, but there are also supplies to buy and mounts to procure.  I do hope no one objects to traveling with a woman."  Her words might have been meant for the strangers, but her eyes fixed for a moment on Gabby as if daring him to protest.

Sky Dog tried to work out what objection a hunting party could possibly have to a woman. Hawthorne did not seem to be pregnant. Perhaps the people of the wilderness troubled her.

"If you fear to be seduced by a bear, if you wish it I will help drive him away," he offered, leaning on the wall beside her as Gabby got on with his civilised lying. Sky Dog's manner towards Cora had noticeably improved, regardless of her treatment of him.

The pale youth flicked a glance towards the armed men, his expression neutral. "Maybe you know of a place near to where buffalo-killers go, an oak-group place?"

Daniel remained quietly off to the side as the slew of men arrived. When his uncle got to talking, it generally didn't make any sense for Daniel to jump in, or so he had learned. Gabby could talk for hours, seemingly without pause. Unfortunately he didn't always pause to think, or so it seemed to Daniel. His two cents were occasionally thrown in. "Don't matter who or what it is if we don' find 'em. And soon, before some other town gets what happened in Hays. Any of ya new fellas, please ta meetcha, by the way. Any of ya folk got any idea 'bout towns what might be pro-union 'round these parts?"

In reply to Coraline Hawthorne (msg # 31):

Gabby raises an eyebrow at Cora's declaration. "I ain't sure why you'd want to come along on this, but I reckon your 'special skills' might come in handy." he declined to elaborate on what those skills were, but the ball was in her court now.

"It'll return to you pretty fast," Morgan agreed. With a smile, he added, "You're right about being sore though. The first few days won't be that comfortable."

When they reached the Dog Eye, Morgan assured Darling he would only be a moment. Greeting McNary, he climbed the stairs and went to his room, retrieiving the cinched, leather bag of badges from one of his saddlebags. He paused as he stepped back out, taking in the sight of the hallway, his eyes lingering on the doors to Goodwin and Mansfield's rooms and the rear exit that led to the extending staircase. A lot of dark memories here. Although part of him earnestly doubted that he would ever see Dodge again, he was certain of one thing: the Dog Eye was not a place he wanted to return to.

Before he left, he let McNary know he expected that he, Gabby, and Daniel would be leaving before the day was out. Morgan promised the saloon owner that he would settle up with him when he returned for his possessions.

Back out in the street he rejoined Darling, heading back to the Town Marshal's office. As they walked, Morgan silently went over the deputy's oath, making sure he could recite it correctly. Quite a bit of time had passed, perhaps a year or more, since he'd last deputized anyone.

Korpi proved something of an antidote to any brooding on dark thoughts, eagerly investigating open rooms for corpses, pulling at interesting furnishings and saddlebag-buckles, and currently (by the sound of it) attempting to polish a stolen badge shiny on the crown of Morgan's hat.

Masterson was as polite and well spoken as he was well groomed. "I have no objection on your account of your gender, ma'am," he said.

"If Wyatt Earp think's you can handle yourself well enough to make you a deputy, and that too on the word of a U.S. Marshal, I think that's good enough for me."

The others seemed to murmur a general agreement, though some seemed more reticent at giving it than others. Still, they did reach the same point that Masterson had made.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:15, Tue 30 July 2013.