"I swear on my dead family that Carter will be brought to justice."

"Your kind of 'justice'," Maddox nods at Wilder's gun, then looks him dead in the eye, "-or your father's?" His tone abruptly drops low, almost gentle as he adds "...because what's this all worth, if you disrespect the memory of a fine lawman like that?"

Hargrave nodded in agreement. "You're right. It's the kind of weather that'll make you catch your death," He glanced up at the sky, then at the burned out husks of buildings nearby. "Looks like there's been plenty of threats to good health around here of late."

He cleared his throat. "I was hoping you would have room to stable my horse. I'm not planning to stay in Deadwood terribly long. Perhaps a week. I'm just here to attend to some business."

The man nods. "It sho' be, at thet." he says. "They say the ghost o' Ol' Wild Bill Hickok burned down the Gem a week ago, tho' the soldjas say it was Injuns. Took the Numba 10 with it. Then, jus' this mornin', bandits robbed and blew up the Bella Union. The soldja is lookin' fer them what did et now."

He nods at the request. "Stablin's a buck fiddy a day, an' 'll cover feedin' and shoein' and brushin'."

"That's a fair price," Hargrave said, counting out ten dollars and fifty cents and handing the money to the man. Nodding at the horse, he added, "Sometimes he gets a little anxious when it's time to shoe him, but if you talk to him for a minute, he'll settle down."

He wasn't certain how to respond to talk of Hickock's ghost, though his experience wouldn't allow him to dismiss such an idea as fiction. The activities of the bandits certainly explained all of the soldiers' activity, as well as the discussion he'd overheard from the men at the depot. Bounty hunters, most likely. "Blowing up a saloon. Quite bold. No wonder everyone's on edge."

"You wouldn't happen to know of a reputable boarding nearby, would you, sir?"

The stablemaster nods. "Indeed it be, suh. Indeed it be." He thinks. "Whelp, most o' the boardin' houses 'round here expect you to be rentin' feminine companionship along wit de room, if'n ya catch my drift. The High Times Saloon Lee'd best fo' that, if'n that tickle yo' fancy. If not...normally, I'd recommend the Grand Central Hotel, right across from here, but dat be full up wit soldiers right nah. There was another bordin' house on Deadwood & Williams...o' was it Williams an' Wall? Anyhow, I ain't so shur on't. Most minin' folk, they's gets a tent and rents a lot fo' five dolla a week, o' they's roughin' it at they claim. You wanna see Joe Bearclaw at the Office o' Minin' Affairs about thet. It's right next to the Grand Central over here."

Hargrave considered the options and smiled. "Finding a lot with the miners sounds like it might be the best option, all things considered," He said, "I'm obliged for all the information. Thank you kindly."

Shouldering his saddle bags, he shook the man's hand and headed off in the direction of the Mining Affairs office.

The Office Of Mining Affairs isn't very large. In fact, it resembles nothing more than a small-town bank. Three clerks who appear to be Sioux but are dressed in sharp Back East suits sit behind the teller's windows. Apart from them, there's an office in the back, as well as several large locked filing cabinets and a closed vault.

There's a sense of tension in the air. The clerks eye Trace suspiciously as he approaches.

"I am sorry, sir." One of the clerks says in very good English. "Due to the recent occupation, The Sioux Nations have suspended registration of all new claims and will be granting no new prospecting permits, nor renewing old ones."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:34, Sun 12 Mar 2017.

Hargrave smiled and shook his head. "Oh no, sir. I'm not interested in filing a claim. A gentleman at the livery mentioned that a man could rent a lot here, where he could pitch a tent and sleep. I had hoped to speak to someone about that, if there are any such lots still available."

((OOC: Still waiting on an answer here...))

In reply to Trace Hargrave (msg # 28):

The clerk nods. "Then you want to speak with Joseph Bearclaw. Come on back to the office." He opens the door to the back, then leads Trace inside.

Joseph Bearclaw turns out to be another Sioux man in a Back East suit, sitting behind a desk filled with papers. He looks up from whatever it is he's writing. "Yes? May I help you?"

In reply to Maddox (msg # 21):

"I need your help to bring the fuck'r to justice ... mine, yours, my father ... someones' justice." James said quietly. "I'm not my father, dreams of being a lawman like him died thanks to Carter and his cronies."

OOC: Sorry was in Portland for the weekend :D

Maddox wipes blown rain off the end of his nose uncertainly, almost missing, and looks to Lonefeather, then back to James.

"Carter can take some of your choices, see you, but not all of them...all right. I-" he takes a long blink, rubbing the flush across his cheeks a bit. "I've made a map of where he could concievably get to and go to ground in the time he had, and narrowed that to where...where he could get hostages. See you, there's more empty cars, badly-patrolled warehouses, and mixed dens and brothels this side of the tracks."

"If he's smarting a bit from the thrashing but smug as hell he walked out-" Wilder still gets a frown there, "-he'll want to take it out on someone. If he hasn't - and I pray he hasn't, I truly do, with all my soul there - roamed around back of the warehouses and swung back to those shanty plots with families, it's a good bet he'll be hiding in the rail yard or the Cathouse. The Celestials would spot him and call thugs if he'd broken into one of their houses - the Triads' perrogative, that is."

He digs out a crumpled map on the back of a Wanted poster and holds it out vaguely in the other bounty hunters' direction.

In reply to Joseph Bearclaw (msg # 30):

Hargrave nodded politely. "Mister Bearclaw, my name is Trace Hargrave. I'm visiting Deadwood and was told that I might be able to rent a lot where I could raise a tent, have a place to sleep at night. Would you have any available, sir?"

In reply to Maddox (msg # 32):

James nodded, "I would think he'd head back for his gun but with the amount of soldiers on the street he isn't dumb enough to do that ... Pistol Pete would've but not Carter. He views folks as assets, useless distractions, or obstacles so the question is how do we stack up to him currently."

In reply to Trace Hargrave (msg # 33):

Mr. Bearclaw nods. "Ah. Alright." He opens the bureau next to him and pulls out a file folder, then rifles through it. "Ah. Hmmm. While I don't have any empty lots -- the soldiers have sort of bivouacked themselves in the open areas without permission -- I do have a number of tenants who are late on their monthly rent." he pulls out a sheet. "There is one in particular who is a pebble in my shoe. His name is Raymond Carver, but most people call this disreputable lout 'Mad Dog.' He has missed three payments so far, and it is not because he hasn't the funds." Bearclaw leans back. "Would you be willing to serve Mr. Carver an eviction notice for me? Once he's gone, his lot will be available, and I would be willing to rent you the lot free for the first month."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Tue 14 Mar 2017.

Hargrave cocked an eyebrow. "I'm certainly open to doing that, Mr. Bearclaw," he said, "But if you'll forgive me for speaking plainly, if Mr. Carver is three payments behind, I'm curious as to why you haven't evicted him sooner."

"And well you should ask!" Mr. Bearclaw says with a charming smile. "First off, Mr. Carver is...shall we say, quite a disagreeable person. He has outright threatened bodily harm against those in my employ who have been sent to serve him notice in the past. And, prior to Custer's arrival, vacating Mr. Carver's lot was not a high priority, especially since he spends so little time there. He's a miner, you see, and like many miners often bivouacs at his claim." He leans back and steeples his fingers together. "This problem is not unique to Mr. Carver. A great many miners rent lots initially, then fail to maintain them while they mine. But Mr. Carver...well, let us say that does not like my people very much. He feels that we are beneath him. I feel that the message would be better served coming from someone who shared his skin color." He smiles again, that same somewhat greasy smile.

((OOC: Notice check, please.))

In reply to James Wilder (msg # 34):

"So you think he's going for a gun first? Or what?" Jimmy asks. "Basically, where should we start looking? He's probably not thinking about us at all, being more worried about the soldiers." He looks at Maddox's map. "The Cathouse...I've been hearing some strange things about that place since we hit town. Isn't that where all those wrinkled-up bodies were found? Also, wasn't Bullock seeing the Madam for a while? If Carter showed up there, wouldn't she call Bullock in? Or was their break up bad enough that she might hide someone like Carter just out of spite?"

Maddox looks confused at Wilder, then just about manages to focus on Lonefeather's questions. "He broke it off quite sharp when his wife got involved, see you, I think she'd just not recognise him until he had some good earner with a gun to her head. That might work on her...the other brothels this side would just cut through the whore and order a couple more girls from West. They...they just use them up." Maddox shakes his head to clear it.

"About shrivelled bodies I don't know. Exaggeration of some venereal disease I imagine, though those girls are supposed to be clean. Got a couple of bouncers, I think, but it's hard telling an outlaw from a miner around here, with the overlap there is."

"Asking around to see if he did cross over at this point would be where I was starting," he adds. "You two might want to hang back on that, or take a look around the warehouses meanwhile, I don't know."

In reply to Joseph Bearclaw (msg # 37):

Hargrave nodded in response to the information. "Would you happen to know if Carver has had any problems with the law?" he asked.

18:34, Today: Trace Hargrave rolled 4,10 using 1d8+2,1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 2,(6+2)8.  Notice.

"You would have to ask Mr. Seth Bullock about that, I'm afraid. He would know more than I about Mr. Carver's encounters with the law outside the Sioux Nations, and I don't have any jurisdiction on matters outside my purview as head administrator of the Sioux nations mining claim system."

Trace gets the impression Mr. Bearclaw isn't telling him the whole truth about the situation. He's not lying, exactly, but he's being very careful to dance around something.

In reply to James Lonefeather (msg # 38) and Maddox (msg # 39):

"No, he'll have a back up pistol ... usually a Colt Navy. Fuck if I know where the guy is ... that's why we came to get Maddox." James said shaking his head at Longfeather. His eyes shift to Maddox, "Fine ... we'll go make ourselves scarse while you go asking for information."

"We'll check out the warehouses, and meet back here in an hour." Jimmy says.

((OOC: So I'll have Maddox make a Streetwise check for this. James, make a Tracking check.))

Maddox eventually manages to get some of the locals to talk to him, more or less.

[[19:23, Today: Maddox rolled 1,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2.  Streetwise.
19:24, Today: Maddox rolled 3 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3.  red add. -1 for being cognitively impaired, that's a 4.]]