Like the passengers on the Murdock Stage, the wind had woken well before dawn, stirring the endless stretches of grama grass with its cold touch as it swept southward, a sharp reminder that Spring, with its promise of awakening life, had not yet found its way to New Mexico. Save for a few workers and patrolling soldiers, the streets of Roswell were dark and quiet, still slumbering as Collin Murdock loaded his charges into the stagecoach and made one last check of his team of horses before departing the outpost.

The stagecoach itself was well built, an early model Concord, the wood weathered but sturdy, marked with the scars of past dangers, gouges and pocks from bullets and arrows, its survival a mute testimony to the skill of its driver. The interior provided enough room for nine passengers, though only eight boarded that morning, the upholstered seats covered with pillows, an attempt to preserve some comfort over the long trip ahead. As the silver haired Murdock stowed what bags the travelers brought with them, a slender man with the rangy look of a vaquero arrived, finishing the last vestiges of a cigarette rolled in a corn husk. He climbed up onto the seat beside the driver, laying a double barrel shotgun across his thighs.

The last passenger to board, a tall man in buckskins with dark brown hair and a thick mustache, pulled the door closed before taking an open seat beside one of the windows. Murdock circled the stage once more, making a last inspection before taking his seat and urging his team forward. As the horses gained a steady pace, the sky took on the color of a fresh bruise, deep violet, the first hint of sunrise. Even in the dimness, those within the stagecoach could make out the jagged ruins of Fort Roswell, its remains untouched since the battle that rendered it desolate. Eastward, lights flickered in the distant windows of the sprawling ranch house and scattered line shacks of John Chisum’s vast Jingle Bob Ranch, the cattleman’s hands already awake and attending to his herd.

Soon, orange washed the horizon, providing hints of the high country ahead. The thick grass raced past the stage, the open plain stretching almost as far as the eye could see, broken up only by the occasional mesquite or cottonwood. The growing light allowed the passengers to finally see one another clearly. For now, there was little to do but wait, watch the land roll past, and perhaps pass the time with conversation.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:30, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

Stagecoaches: The Devil's Own Rolling Stock.

Kate hated stagecoaches.  Hated them.  Where to begin?  They were cramped and full of people for one.  People smelled bad.  People told stupid stories she didn't want to hear.  People fiddled with their weapons like damn amateurs.  People asked questions she didn't want to answer. People who hadn't been in a stagecoach before were always so damn excited about it.  Everyone wanted to sit by the window.

The coach itself was always unpleasant.  This one wasn't the worst, but it was an old model suspended on leather straps.  In some ways that was better, but you really felt the bumps.  Your hind end would feel like you'd rode a bad horse all the way.  Her butt would stick to the leather of the seat.  And half the time you'd have to get out and walk alongside the damn thing or push it up a hill anyway, if she could even convince them to sell a woman a third class ticket.

But the worst part was it played on her neuroticism: riding in one of these took away a lot of control and situational awareness.  Due to certain... business endeavors, Kate knew well that with a little preparation it was too God damn easy to rob one of these things blind.  Too easy to stop, the passengers couldn't go anywhere once it did, hell, you could just take the boot and the strong box and not even bother them if you didn't want to.  You might lose out on some pistols and pocket watches and the like, but it saved time and reduced risk.  It just depended.

But that's what a professional might do.  Most of the robbers, like the idiots who sat in these things twirling their shiny new irons and muzzle sweeping their fellow passengers, were amateurs who were only obsessed with getting everything.

And she had to admit, even in her professional opinion, if she robbed a coach here, she'd get it all.  Doing it the other way was only smart if you could hit a whole bunch in a short amount of time, say you could take three for a hundred and fifty greenbacks worth of proceeds in the space of taking just one for a hundred and higher risk.  Out here, this was the only prey.  Take everything it had, or it's that much less you ride away with.

There wasn't anything for it.  Sit your ass down, make yourself rail thin, grit your teeth and wait.

So that's what Kate did.  Luckily she wasn't a particularly bulky figure and with her legs crossed and duster tucked in, she was compact indeed.  It also had the bonus of putting her hip up just a little.  Without a dedicated cross draw holster, it was very difficult to draw while seated, so she would loosen her rig and spin it around for these occasions.  The crossed legs helped keep it from slipping out of position.

There was one thing about stagecoaches which was somewhat useful for her however.  Every cow pie at least makes good fertilizer.  She'd heard that somewhere.

Kate didn't sleep particularly well, what with the night being full of goat headed men whispering the unmentionable sins they wished from her from the shadows.  A stagecoach didn't really let you sleep well, but you could doze and catnap, shaking out of it every so often on a hard bump or jostle.

She had perfected that backward lean and forward hat tilt trick, and had been in her half sleep since they took off, snapping out of it occasionally only to fall back in.

The last bump had awakened her and she was afraid she wasn't going to be able to get back to her dozy state again, but for the moment she was feigning continued uneasy slumber.

Bryan was always glad to put some miles between him and Roswell. There was something about the place that gave him an uneasy feeling and disturbed the inner calmness that he fought so hard to achieve, upsetting the delicate balance.

On the whole, he preferred the stage coach to rail. Most of all, he preferred the open road and a horse, but better this than the rail. Here, he had the smell of the open air and the dust and the earth and the horses, of wood and leather and just a bit of oil that made their way into the chamber. The downside occasionally was the smell of his fellow passengers, but this day didn't seem to be as bad as the others. Something seemed wrong with traveling by rail; he preferred the rhythmic pounding of hoof-beats upon the ground than he did the sound of a train going over the tracks. It was ironic considering how much of his life he had spent laying down those tracks and repairing them.

Bryan maintained a respectable appearance, dressed well even under his coat. It always served well to make a good first impression when it was needed, and dressing respectably helped with that. It didn't always spare him from being called unpleasant names, but sometimes it did. The gunbelt that could be spied through the opening of his coat looked old and well used. The pistol within it looked as if he had purchased it within the week, smooth as a newborn. His boots looked like they had been polished a day or two back, but had seen the dust of the road since then.

Conscious of the economy of space, he didn't take up too much of it within the coach, sitting straight back and intertwining his hands, resting them across his lap. Having observed his fellow passengers once upon their boarding, he found no need to do so continually. He found it much less awkward to simply close his eyes, meditating quietly. He wasn't lost to the world, but he brought his mind to a state of stillness as they made their way across the high country into the open plain.

"You doggin' me, Chino?  I know you ain't sleepin'."  The strike of a match accompanied bemused tones as she lit a thin black cigarillo.  "Told you a while back that I ain't the marryin' kind.  Why you still chasin' me?"  Jacinta snuffed the match with two fingers and tucked the remnants of the charred bit of wood back into her pocket.

As they'd be spared any foul weather that might happen upon them, Jacinta had left her poncho and chaps tied with the rest of her bags.  Her rifle sat propped up beside her, wedged between her leg and the wall.  She didn't wear a six-shooter, though her belt had rifle rounds tucked into the loops.  For the sake of the other passengers, she'd bathed recently, which meant she'd dunked herself into the nearest river.  Her clothes were wrinkled and worn, but relatively clean.

She'd been to Lincoln a few times, mostly with her own horsepower, but just now the stage was a necessary evil.  How surprising it had been to see a couple of familiar faces among the passengers.  Pleased that it wouldn't be an overly boring trip, she regarded the Chinaman with warm eyes and a faint quirk of her mouth at the good-natured teasing.

Lost in thought, the veteran in the much-patched grey coat and drooping mustache stared out the window as the hills rolled by.

Jake preferred trains. He missed the rumble of them, the mechanical clanking, the whistle of steam, the feel of it...it was in his blood. But he'd just come from a bittersweet meeting with an old pal, one who still worked for the railroad that had bought out Dixie Rails, and...he preferred trains, but just was not in the mood to be on one right now.

Squeaky was still a bit hurt that he'd left when Lone Star bought out DR. He'd expected that. He hadn't expected his own aches at the decision to start up once more. But it just wasn't the same. Everything was about money now, not duty. The race to Lost Angels was long over, now, and without that direction driving the line forward everything just seemed so...petty. There was no grand mission anymore, no unifying cause. Just a thousand decisions made to pull the DR stock out of the gutter ol' Fitzhugh Lee had dropped it in. Lines were pruned, pay scaled back, and the new hires that came in...many of them hadn't even seen action in The War. They didn't know what all the old-timers had. They could never know, now that the War had officially ended.

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, the death of Dixie Rails. The line he'd fought and bled over was no more. The tracks were still there, sure, and most of the rolling stock...but something essential had been drained away.

Sighing, Jake reached into a pocket and withdrew a thingamabob. He couldn't bring his whole bag into the stage -- the man up front had been quite pointed about that, and had him put it with the rest of the luggage on top -- but Jake managed to squirrel away a couple of doodads to keep his hands busy, as well as a screwdriver and some pliers. He idly began to inspect the doohickey. It was a design that had come to him in a dream, a half-remembered flash of insight. He wasn't entirely sure what the thing was supposed do just yet -- right now, it was doing a whole lot of nothing. So he inspected with it, fiddled with it, adjusted a screw here and a wire there, then clicked the switch that was supposed to turn it on. It buzzed faintly, began to whir, then there was a spark from the Ghost Rock sliver inside it that powered the whatsit. There was a brief, ghostly shriek and a puff of white smoke, and the gadget went still again.

"Sorry 'bout that." Jake said to the other passengers. "Didn't mean to startle y'all."

Well... that animated the sleep-corpse that was Kate.

Mr. McGraw's apology saw the blued pistol in Kate's hand twirling in motion.  The familiar click of a hammer could be heard.  She had that iron out quick and she was red and livid, like she was reliving something.  The old gal was upright and taut and hell-bent for leather now.

This had the somewhat amusing effect of knocking her hat off, where it stumbled into her neighbor's lap.

She looked annoyed, and looked at Jacob accusingly.  But just as quickly, she lowered the hammer, and took a brief second to rotate the cylinder to put the hammer back down on the empty chamber before reholstering, all in a smooth, poetic series of motions.  Her muzzle control was perfect, at no point had she swept directly over any of the vehicle's occupants, though it might be hard to tell from the proximity.

Kate leaned back, breathing deeply.

"My, that was startling, wasn't it?" Earnest remarked mildly, as he retrieved Kate's hat from his lap and passed it back to her. He favored her with a slight smile and McGraw with a slightly censorious, yet good-natured, glance.

"Since we're all awake, why not introduce ourselves? My name is Allgood, Earnest Allgood. I'm traveling to Lincoln to visit another minister and see whether I can help his congregation for a little while." He looked to the others with an inviting smile.

He had begun his morning prayers, as he always did, with a random verse from his father's testament. The practice smacked a bit of superstition perhaps and he knew the layout of the verses too well for it to be truly random, but he found the practice comforting. Today it was Matthew 28:19: Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

It seemed apt for setting out on a journey to assist in spreading the Word and comforting the afflicted. The Good Book was always apt and inspiring.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:28, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

Unlike some of the others, Albert absolutely adored stagecoaches. There were various reasons he'd had to ride out from his uncle's ranch to collect some things, but most of the time he'd had to ride, which meant paying attention for potential threats, occasional soreness to various body parts, and occasionally bad weather. One time he'd been stuck in the middle of a rather sudden rain storm. Cold and rainy were the worst combination.

Fortunately for the other passengers, Albert kept himself clean. Unfortunately for them, he had stopped keeping himself in shape causing him to take up a little more than his fair share of the bench. A ratty duster covered rumpled, though clean, clothes. A dark gray fedora was tipped forward over his eyes, as the ranch hand was planning to get some sleep.

At the commotion, Al pushed his hat so that he could see the others, and smirked over at Kate. "Always were a bit jumpy, weren't ya Katie?" His smile was thin, though the skin near his eyes crinkled. A pearl-gripped gun sat at Albert's hip, though he'd made no move for it. And didn't plan to - this should be a nice, relaxing ride, filled with being, er, nice and relaxed.

When the reverend spoke, Albert's gaze went over toward him. "Minister, eh? Well, Minister Allgood, I'm Al Cooper. I came to Roswell to run an errand for my uncle who owns a ranch near Lincoln. What sort of minister are ya?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:53, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

Jake started a bit at Katie's pistol display, clutching his thingamabob for dear life, but as she relaxed, so did he. He shrugged sheepishly at the reverend's light glare. "Again, sorry." He said. "I'm Jake McGraw. I'm a..." he nearly said railroad mechanic. But no. Not anymore. "...a handyman. Fix up things as are broke down. I got a shop in Lincoln, was just in town gettin' some supplies and meetin' with an old friend who works at the rail head."

"You know, I figured if I stay close enough, one day you'll change your mind," he said, smiling at the familiar voice before opening his eyes to have a look at her.  Often surprising to many, there was not even a hint of an accent to his voice. One of few in the Chinese community born here, it made him stand out in the neighborhood he grew up in, but helped him fit in better outside of it.

Jacinta was easy on the eyes, but that wasn't what seemed most magnetic about her. She had an earthy sensibility about her, and seemed at home out in the open stretches of land. He had seen ample evidence of her skill as a rider and a tracker, skills that took a particular sense of patient discipline to achieve and perfect.

She was right, though, as always. He hadn't been sleeping, but meditating, and her voice hadn't raised him out of his state of calmness but somehow found a place alongside the gentle peace he found in the ride. The sharp intrusion of the gadget's shriek shattered that calm, however, though he didn't show it readily, instead turning to the source, but then more quickly to the passenger who had gone for a firearm - until she holstered it once more. He had made no move for his own weapon. The man with the gadget had a familiar look about him, and Bryan could almost swear he knew him, but he thought a second chance meeting here in this stage coach would be too unlikely so he let it be while he listened to the introductions, though it nagged at him.

"Well, I'll be," he said, reaching over to offer a hand to Jake. His own hands were strong, and though no longer calloused they showed signs of long physical labor in his past. "I knew that was you, Jake McGraw," he said.

He passed a look and a smile around the others. "I'm Bryan Lee, headed to Lincoln on the business of the Texas Rangers at the request of Governor Mosby." He peeled back his overcoat and the well-worn suit jacket beneath it, revealing the telltale badge pinned to his shirt. Circular and with bits carved into the middle to present a star, it had been made out of some Mexican coins by a gunsmith and previously worn by another Ranger who had come before him. He let the jacket and coat fall back down and leaned back into his seat.

"Pleased to meet you all, or at least, those I don't know already." He supposed it wasn't really that coincidental after all. There were no few people in these parts that had some history or association with Dixie Rails, and he'd met many of them.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

"Bryan? Hot damn!" Jake shook the ranger's hand readily. "I ain't since you since..." he paused. "...since that business in Tuscon. I certainly hope these are much better circumstances than that, though."

"Nothin' as crazy as Tucson, I hope," he said with a chuckle. "You got a shop in Lincoln, you say? Sellin' things or just fixin' em?"

"Fixin', mostly." Jake says. "Most things I make ain't much more functional than this here doohickey," He waves the gizmo around for emphasis, "but folk always need somethin' fixed up."

"The usual sort, I suppose," Earnest returns with a smile, "God, Jesus, the Gospels. As to denomination, I was raised and trained as a Methodist, but I'm pretty comfortable with all kinds."

"Fire and Brimstone? Pillars of salt?" Al smiled back at the Reverend. "My pa is a Methodist minister as well. Maybe ya know him? The Reverend Michael Cooper?" With Methodists, it wasn't all that far-fetched that Earnest had at least heard the name.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:09, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

"That they do," he agreed with Jake. "Well, I suppose I know where to get things fixed if I've got anything that breaks."

He smiled at the holy man's reference to being the 'usual' sorta minister. In his own experience, men of God came in many varieties. Some were pillars of the community and critical to life in small towns scattered throughout the West, some used their authority and position for their own ends more than that of their fellow men, and some were just men of the cloth doing their best to hold themselves and perhaps a few others together in a strange and often times harsh world that frequently offered more questions than it did answers. If either himself or this Reverend stayed in town long enough, he looked forward to seeing what kind of minister he was in truth. That said, the man seemed to have a positive disposition, which while not dispositive of anything, seemed at least a good indicator. There was much to be said for a smile and a kind word.

"You from around these parts, Rev?" he asked the minister.

Kate looked back at Cooper.  Truthfully, it pleased her to know he wasn't dead, which was about as close as Kate could ever possibly get to calling someone a friend.  Him being alive was a thorn in the side to some certain parties she had serious... unpleasantness with.  And in retrospect they had enjoyed a lively time.

But it bothered her very much he was here.  She had nothing against him, but if those buzzards had followed him here, that could be a problem.  Of course they could have followed her just as easily, but all the same it was double the odds this way.

Accepting her hat back without comment, she at least nodded her thanks, and flipped it up back over her head.  She normally used a(nother) fake name for traveling, but the cat was out of the bag.

"I'll remind you kindly sir the appellation is Kansas Kate.  It weren't nothin' I ain't particularly proud of, but by God I earned that name."  She spoke to he who had spoken to her directly, but it was clearly intended for all to hear.

If they wanted an introduction she'd give a brief one.  "I'm a God-damned possum herder."  She was clearly not a possum herder.  The tone clearly implied she didn't give a cactus needle that any listener obviously knew that was the case.

But she was quite possibly God-damned, Kate couldn't be sure.  God either loved her for sending so many souls to their maker or hated her for same.  Albert Cooper at least would know that Kate could be more fun than this, but she was miserable in this stagecoach and she wasn't being shot at.  It was pretty hard to see her brighter side under those conditions.

Her eyes rested on the rifle in the cabin.

Albert tilted his head slightly to the side at Kate's response. "Appalachians ain't nowhere near Kansas, Kate. And last I heard ya still were referred to as Katie the Cutie. Course the women that referenced ya so tended ta fixate on gals yer type, so maybe that one didn't catch on so good." Albert smiled broadly at Kate hoping a bit of jollity would shake her apparent malaise. Kate's presence reminded him of the good ol' days. Things weren't exactly easier back then, but they sure were better.

A lot had happened since those days, including any number of things better forgotten. Unfortunately, a man's brain didn't work that way. All those things that happened in the past - came back to haunt a fellow. Haunted him while he was awake, haunted him while he slept, dogged every footstep he took.

The ranch hand chuckled at Kate's job description. "Possums and cats, from what I recall. If ya ever tire of that, you maybe come try your hand at herdin' cattle. Pays better. Gotta widen up your lasso a bit, though, if ya know what I mean."

"Noble profession, herdin' possums.  Kinda partial the armadilla, myself.  Got shells, so you just wait for 'em to curl up in a ball and then you can kick 'em where you want 'em to go. " Jacinta commented with a straight face.  She stared at the woman who was presently staring at her rifle.  "Kansas Kate, huh?  Not the Kansas Kate, surely."  After taking a drag of her cigarillo, she held it up in offering.

"Name's Jacinta Castillo," she offered to the others by way of greeting.  "Scout, tracker, herder of armadillas."

She had an easy way about her with an open, calm manner.  She hadn't jumped at the sudden bang, but she had thrown a dark scowl at the man with the ghost rock gadget.  That scowl had disappeared rather quickly, though, wiped away by years of practice.  Dangerous thing to let the anger show through when the wrong person was looking.  Even more dangerous still to let that anger control you.  She tried not to do either and mostly succeeded.  Mostly.

The tall man in buckskins tensed at the sudden sound from McGraw’s device, his blue eyes narrowing when Kate drew her weapon. As calm returned to the cabin, he settled down somewhat, listening to the conversation between the passengers and glancing occasionally at the sea of grass beyond the window beside him.

Clearing his throat, he said, ”It sounds as though most of you are familiar with New Mexico. This is my first time in the territory. I’ve lived in Texas the last several years.”

He nodded politely. ”My name’s Pat Garrett. I’m traveling to Lincoln in search of work. I hear there’s buffalo in the valley west of town. I aim to go hunting, or maybe hire on with one of the nearby cattle outfits.”

Albert nodded at the buffalo hunter, but went around the entire interior one at a time. It always helped him to repeat names after he met folk, just so he remembered their name. Plus he didn't want to seem like he was ignoring anyone or anything.

"Nice ta meetcha, Jacinta. You're the finest lookin' tracker I ever met. And nice ta meetcha Bryan. I gotta friend in the Rangers - names Harold Benson. Also works out here in New Mexico. Mebbe ya know him. Jake - you're bein' awful humble. My uncle says you're the best fixit guy he's ever met. And he's kinda old. And nice ta meetcha, Pat. I can check with my uncle to see if he's lookin' ta hire any more. What kinda skills ya got so I can tell him? And do you...got any earned nicknames about which we should be aware to avoid offendin'?"

It would probably take all the daylight to get to their destination. Might as well make some friends and chat a bit. Barring that, Albert could just start telling stories. That might be entertaining.

In reply to Albert Cooper (msg # 15):

"I do know of Reverend Cooper by name and reputation, though I have never met him. Where is he now? I have only good reports of his piety and learning."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 13:54, Fri 26 Jan 2018.

"Oh verily sir, I am well known for my overwhelming pulchritude.  It's the God damned knife gash across the face, that gets 'em every time."  She stared at him like he was an idiot.  But that's just how Kate stared at people... when they annoyed her.  "Well, I reckon she's got a better chance of grazing in my pasture than you do of mounting a post in it, so there's something to be said for her."



Now here was somebody who knew how to get on Kate's good side.  A drag from a cigar, even one of them fancy skinny ones, was a sure bet.

In exchange for her offering, for Kate worked on a prid quo pro basis more often than not, she gave a response that was a little sarcastic but actually helpful... to the informed.

"Well miss, I do reckon if'n there's another broad running around with the audacity to call herself such a thing, I ought to find her and we can form a union."

Jacinta smirked at Kate's quip.  "Could always go 'round recruitin'.  Get together a whole passel of Kansas Kates to terrorize the territory.  All the men would be part fearful, part horny.  If you'll pardon the expression, Padre."   She tipped her hat to Earnest, lips twitching in amusement.

She cast her gaze upon Garrett.  "Ever hunted buffalo before, Mister?  Ain't no small thing.  Especially 'round here."

The ranch hand chuckled at Kate's response to him. "There wasn't really never no doubt about that. And yeah, Char and Moira both liked the knife gash, truly. Don't know what it was 'bout those ladies." He shrugged. "Mebbe they just had good taste."


Albert looked over to the Reverend to answer his question. "Pa's in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, now. Been in the ministry long enough that he and ma are used ta movin' round. Course it made me and my siblings wanna get out on our own sooner'n later so we could settle down in one place. Where all have you been preachin'?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:28, Fri 26 Jan 2018.

Garrett nods. ”It’s most of what I did the last five years in Texas, almost all of it on the Llano, riding with ciboleros. I can earn my keep at it. I’m just looking for a living, not to get rich. It’ll do until some other kind of work comes along.”

“You said you’re a scout, ma’am? You do much work for the army around here?”

His eyes shifted over to Bryan. ”And if you don’t mind me asking, Ranger Lee, should we all be worried about this business you’re doing for the Governor in Lincoln? Some kind of trouble up there?”

Llano = The Llano Estacado, or “Staked Plain”. A desert flatland that occupies a significant portion of western Texas and part of eastern New Mexico.

Cibolero - Mexican buffalo hunters who roamed the Llano Estacado.

"A bit," Jacinta admitted to Garrett.  "Mostly with the 4th Cavalry Regiment.  Never put on the uniform, though.  You rode with the ciboleros?  Not bad, gringo.  Must be good with a rifle, eh?"

Tamsin seemed, on the surface, to be a heavy sleeper. Still out, amidst all the bumps, all the conversation swirling around her- until it turned to the latest mention of trouble. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced over her fellow passengers.

 A couple familiar faces, but it wasn't her place to say hello. That was her rule: she didn't know you unless you said so. Kept everyone out of trouble.

Everyone looked pretty well kept. She had always kept clean (wasn't hard, she lived on a river), but especially so in the last little while. Last time she had been to Lincoln she had heard something new, about how dirty things might make people sick; she wasn't sure how much stock she put into it, but if it might mean less fevers to treat she'd try it.

"Might have somethin' to do with the Tunstall killin'." Jake says with a scowl. "I reckon a Ranger might take the sitiation more seriously than Sheriff Brady seems to. Justice Wilson sounded about ready to hire some of Tunstall's boys to look into things on their own if Brady don't get off his keister, and that might just lead to trouble, like as not." He looked at Bryan. "Is that why you're here?"

In reply to Albert Cooper (msg # 25):

"I'm from Tennessee originally, little town called Parsons, funny enough. After I was ordained at Asburt Seminary in Memphis, I did some assisting at churches in Tennessee, then preached in tribal lands and in some parts of Arkansas -- probably where I heard of your father.

"I've come through Texas lately and now am headed for Lincoln. Are you a church member there, Mr. Cooper? How about you, Mr. McGraw?"

"Actually, I ain't made as much time fer God these days as I should." Jake says. "I can't remember the last time I been to confession."

Albert frowned briefly at the mention of Tunstall's death. "Well, if ya ain't there ta look into Tunstall's death, ya might find out right quick that you'll end up bein' involved. If Judge Wilson has his way, things will turn ugly, fast. Some of Tunstall's boys ain't zactly, er, upstanding citizens."

He looked over to Jake, then back to Bryan. "My uncle says that Tunstall himself was an honest man. His store had a good reputation, and he was generally a good fella. But ya might find a few folk that were herdin' Tunstall cattle what are on the run from the law." He paused. "I hate ta say this, but if yer interested in questionin' folk like that, I suggest not doin' so on yer own. And yeah, that means I volunteer ta watch yer back if ya need it, Ranger. I ain't got nothin' but the highest sort of respect for those that wear your sorta badge."

Albert looked generally toward their destination, then back toward the Ranger. "Course other folk with a badge ain't always worthy. Sheriff Brady seems ta like ta sit on his hands a lot. Not sure if he's incompetent, on the take, or actually knows somethin' most other folks don't. Jury's still sorta out, but he ain't impressed many folk of late. Course that's turned Lincoln into something of a powderkeg as folk get frustrated. Judge Wilson might be about ta toss a match right into the middle of that powderkeg."

He looked around the interior again. "Apologies for those that were thinkin' Lincoln might be a great place to relax."

After saying his piece about the situation, Albert turned back toward Earnest with a smile. "Parsons, eh? I settled down for a bit in Brighton. Bit closer to Memphis." He shook his head when asked about the Lincoln congregation. "I ain't been in town long, Reverend, so haven't been to any services yet. But I'll certainly come see you on Sunday."

Kate wasn't volunteering much either, except when asked or provoked.  But she had seen Tamsin River seated in the cabin earlier.  She wondered if "The Medicine Woman", as the Apache (Was he Apache?  Kate had assumed so but had never asked) had called her, remembered her.

She didn't appear to, or maybe she did and just didn't give a damn.  Kate could live with it either way, and was glad the herbalist was being quiet.  She couldn't hide it  non-stop but the fewer people who knew what was on the back of her right hand the better, especially with all these Bible thumpers riding along.

Still, Kate wasn't upset she was here.  Kate had eaten a buckshot supper and old "Medicine Woman" there had patched her up purty good, could hardly tell it had even happened now.

While fishing out another cigarillo to replace the one she'd given Kate, Jacinta also pulled a small leather-bound notepad.  She flipped through a few pages and ripped out several from the middle, folding them in half.  After returning the notepad to her pocket, she offered the pages to Tamsin.  "Tams, meant to give these to you earlier.  Got what you asked for in my bag.  Potent stuff, that.  Gonna try to grow it in that garden of yours?"

"If you were ridin' on the llano, ain't no man that can ever fault you for bravery. Comanche'll disappear in an' outta that place like it was magic," he said.

"As for what I'm about in Lincoln, Mr. Garrett, I'd say it's likely the same problems that can be found anywhere out on the frontier as near as I can tell based on the information that I have," he said, scratching his chin as he pondered what more to say on the matter. It seemed in short order, though, that there were others who seemed more well informed on the subjects than him, which brought a smile to his lips.

He nodded in response to Jake's question, holding his response while he listened to what Cooper had to say on the matter, smiling and tipping his hat to the man.

"I 'ppreciate the words and the sentiment, Mr. Cooper. You know the sayin' I'm sure. One riot, one Ranger. That's how I've handled it in the past mostly and I hope this case as as simple as most, but there does once in a while come a situation where it's handy to have a few friendly faces. I won't turn one down in a time o' need," he said.

"Yes, I'm here to look into Mr. Tunstall's murder and hopefully to help stem off some local unrest that seems to be croppin' up around the incident and its handling. A couple of you seem a bit more informed on the subject than I am, so I suppose that my first order o' business should be speakin' to you two gentlemen."

Albert noted the attempts to get the third woman to be less mute, Tams maybe? She looked pretty shifty, so Albert was glad he had a pistol on him and a Ranger nearby. It was often the quiet ones what caused the most trouble.

When given the excuse (like when she spoke), his gaze rested on Jacinta for what would probably be a moment or two longer than would otherwise be considered polite. He had to consciously redirect his attention back to Bryan the Ranger when the fellow began to give up a little bit of info.

He nodded at the Ranger motto. "Well, I ain't a ranger, so bringin' me along won't exceed your quota. I've been Ranger backup before, so like I said - call on me at need. As for talkin' to us, well, we've got nothing but time. I was gonna start regalin' folk with stories if there weren't nothin' else ta talk about, but this mebbe is a better use of our time."

Al looked briefly over to Jake then back to Bryan the Ranger. "Informed is mebbe too strong a word? I hear what people are sayin', mostly. Rumors, hearsay, what-have-you. Course there's prolly a lotta truth there, but that's fer the law ta decide. But I'll give you a few more tidbits ta chew on."

Albert licked his lips briefly as he considered where to start, but then he plowed straight in. "So the store that Tunstall runs, it's known ta be quite fair ta folk with the prices, particularly when compared to the competition, which is L.G. Murphy. Murphy's store'll try ta price gouge if there's any kinda shortage, which Tunstall wouldn't generally do. Some might say that sorta practice is just good business. And if we were livin' out East, I might agree a little. But out West, that sorta thing just ain't neighborly. Tunstall was also Murphy's chief competitor for beef contracts out this direction. So he would stand to gain a lot from Tunstall's elimination."

Al paused briefly and frowned, then continued. "Ya heard me say that some of Tunstall's men may be on the run from law. Tunstall himself seemed like a nice fella, but he also seemed ta see the good in people rather than havin' a critical eye, lookin' fer the prollems. Seems like there's some bad apples among his former ranch hands. But I think they all prolly liked Tunstall a lot. If those folk are riled up, they might cause a bit of trouble."

The ranch hand scrunched his brow together as he thought another moment. After a deep breath, more came forth. "Missus McSween, er, Susan, that is, has taken over the runnin' of Tunstall's ranch. You may have heard of her husband, Alexander. He's an attorney at law. He's travelled ta Santa Fe ta speak ta the authorities bout what's goin' on in Lincoln. Mebbe that's how a Ranger got called in?"

The ranch hand shrugged, then added a bit more. "James Dolan, who is Murphy's right hand man has said he wants ta buy the Tunstall ranch. Would sorta give those folks a bit of a stranglehold on beef contracts."

Albert frowned again, then nodded to himself. "Now, don't take any of what I said to be sayin' that either me or my uncle have any sorta conclusions. Henry, my uncle, has been around for quite some time, and he ain't convinced that the folk what're gonna benefit actually were involved. Course he ain't convinced otherwise, neither." Another shrug. "So there ya go. When ya get inta town, ya may wanna talk ta the folk involved, but two other good sources of info are my uncle, and Missus Rentana Montano. She seems to know all the history of the area."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Sun 28 Jan 2018.

"I don't know all that much more, honestly." Jake says. "You are gonna want to talk to Alice Meyers. She works up on the Tunstall ranch." He leans back. "Though thinkin' about it...I've had folk bring me stuff that looked like they'd been sabotaged. It ain't just Tunstall's crew, neither...a lot o' the smaller ranchers and farmers brought me ploughs and wagons with damage that you don't get just workin' out on the range, though they wouldn't tell me the details." He looks at Bryan with a serious expression. "And as fer potential Tuscon business...well, there's a passel o' schoolchildren who pass my shop everyday goin' to school, but on the day I left, they up and went to the church instead. With their parents, which was a trifle new. That struck me as a mite peculiar."

In reply to Jake McGraw (msg # 37):

"You say the children and parents all went up to the church, Mr. McGraw. Which church would that be? Were they all members of the same congregation?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:27, Mon 29 Jan 2018.

Garrett smiled at Jacinta’s comment. ”I manage to hit most of what I aim at.” He nodded respectfully at Bryan’s assessment of riders on the staked plain.

”Mr. Cooper, if your uncle is in need of hands, I’d appreciate the opportunity to speak with him,” Garrett said, ”I can provide him with references for some ranchers I worked for in Texas.” He frowned. ”And if it comes to it, well, I’m certainly not averse to helping an honest man protect his property.”

Outside, a fresh gust of wind from the north filled the cool air with loose dust.

The stagecoach slowed momentarily, Murdock and his guard conversing quietly in Spanish. Those close to the window could see that the stage had reached the foothills, the flat plain yielding to rolling country, the precursor to the mountains to the north. The trail the stage had been following continued northward, along a steady rise lined on either side with piñon trees and clumps of mesquite. To the northeast, a break in the terrain, perhaps a long dedicated arroyo, presented an alternate route through the foothills.

The stage guard broke open his weapon, checking the loads. [Language unknown: “Ainonsund’n anha er dayntiughave e ulwa il thss oul miwanc. Er ate u, k ssulai pllin ch a re. Ee proom, a allntiare e ceontene m unutss. Of o strlo st, li usolhi usilnt p.”]

Murdock considered the guard’s words for a moment, then nodded. [Language unknown: U trckwe chshe’we aslaom, theoerion. Ss ss’hi for e Prpoen, evere ie nteateoer t diner t Seanno’e, com etbeev.”]

The stage veered to the northeast, picking up additional speed as it entered the break, Murdock urging his team to a fast gallop.

"Driver is taking us through the wash," Jactina reported once the stage picked up speed.  "As long as we outrun the storm, should be fine.  Wouldn't want to get caught out here in a sudden downpour, though.  Can sweep you away before you know it."

Her dark gaze flicked to Albert, giving the man a looking over. "When did this Tunstall fella end up dead?  You heard where he died?  Somebody shot 'em?"

In reply to Rev. Earnest Allgood (msg # 38):

"Ah, sorry." Jake says to the Reverend. "It's got some Mexican name I ain't good at pronouncin', but it's Catholic. It's the only church in town, so I reckon most everyone in town is a parishioner there." he shrugs. "I'm guessin' you're used to larger towns Back East where they have churches for every flavor o' worship, and all o' them get along relatively peaceful-like. That ain't the case out here. A town with two churches out West is either really big, or more divided than Bloody Kansas and about as friendly."

At the change in speed and Jacinta's comment, Jake frowned, reached into his battered jacket, and adjusted the holster of his pistol so he could reach it. Just in case.

"He was murdered out on the range about a month ago." Jake says in response to her question. "They say it was done by outlaws, but most who worked for him think it might have been on account of how Tunstall was the largest rancher speakin' out about The House."

The ranch hand nodded at Patrick's response. "Can't speak for my uncle, but I'll bring ya there so he can meetcha. Might be we'll need some help protectin' his property."

Albert met Jacinta's dark brown eyes with a pair of his own. He smiled a little as the woman's attention was finally on him, though before he could respond to her question, Jake filled in the details. Albert instead nimbly changed directions with what he was going to say, agreeing with wisdom of the tracker rather than providing any new information. "Some folk don't properly understand how fast water'll come down the hills on the occasion we do get rain. Hope this driver ain't one that underestimates the power of nature."

Earnest blinks at McGraw's comments and ponders for a moment. Then he takes a long, leather billfold from the inside pocket of his coat. Withdrawing Reverend Bacon's letter, he reads it, puzzling over how he might have misinterpreted it.

He listened to Cooper talk, mentally taking notes. He smiled at his comment about not exceeding the Ranger quota, deciding mentally that he liked this man. He also listened to Jake, nodding at his comments.

"Rumors or not, it behooves me to get as much information as I can before my boots hit the ground, so I appreciate you sharing. There's a lotta truth in rumor, so its good place to get started - and also gauge the general sentiment of things," he said.

"I'll make sure to take that advice into account, gentlemen. A couple of questions for both of you: Is Judge Wilson regarded as a fair minded individual, or does he have some particular interest in the matter?" he asked. "And what's this about 'the House'?" he added, turning a bit more to Jake for the second one.

He took in the stage-guard's behavior and Jacinta's comments, along with the responses of the others with studied eyes, but made no move to ready his own weapon. He leaned back in his seat, looking relaxed, though even looking relaxed the Ranger seemed like a coiled spring that could bounce into action at any moment.

Albert looked over at the Reverend after his questioning and apparent confusion. "For where two or three gather together in My name, there am I with them. Don't gotta be a big fancy building to praise the Almighty, specially out West." Al smiled and paused as he gazed at the minister's face. "Course in the case of Linocln, there is an actual edifice, and not just two or three gathering in the name of the Lord, Rev. It's been closed up since I been in town, though. Be some work ta gettin' it started up. There'll be folk ta help, though, and count me among that number."

Albert steered his face back toward his new Ranger-friend. "Judge Wilson has a history of bein' both level-headed and fair. Course he also only adjudicates smaller things. Somthin' like a felony wouldn't be his jurisdiction. Nor larger property claims. But you gotta remember, folk that work in Lincoln also live there. Judge Wilson longer'n most. He's in his seventies and my uncle says the judge's been in Lincoln his entire adult life. So mebbe he just loves that little town and is interested in justice for its sake rather'n just because his position is that of a, well, Justice."

"As fer The House, that's the name of the Murphy dry goods store. But it's started ta take on a larger meanin' of late. As in anyone parta that organization."

Albert stopped yapping for a little bit, mostly to see if Bryan had any other questions, but he also looked over the other occupants as well. At that moment, he figured he'd be neighborly to the new folk. "Oh, and when we get ta town, I'd be happy ta give the lot of ya the grand tour. For anyone what wants it."

"Oh is that what that buildin' was?" Jake shifts, uncomfortable. "Sorry, I had no idea." he frowns. "Still and all, towns ain't always big enough fer two churches. Religion can make men do funny things. My dad told me my grandpappy came to Texas from Ireland to bring the Good Word to the Mexicans, only to find they done beat him to it by a couple hundred years."

Kate was still silent, but silence was not inactivity.  She was suspicious of this misrouting, or perhaps it was a detour, but she'd sat with her iron handy to begin with.

She really didn't care about the local state of affairs per se.  She had nothing against anyone trying to make their way out here, but she'd come here for a reason, and none of this had anything to do with it. It might well be a lie.

She would find her answer, and she'd move on.

As if.  She reminded herself.  Nothing was ever that simple for Kansas Kate.

Her eyes looked past the passengers and out the windows.

Jacinta snorted a laugh.  "Your abuelo was a bit out of touch, no?  Padre perdonarlos.  What happened to him?  He go back home?"

The arroyo widened, the left bank gradually flattening until it became level with the surrounding slope, leaving only a sharp rise on the right, just over five feet high. Clusters of piñon trees, several with grayed bark and barren limbs, hunched along the wide trail that the stage followed, the uneven terrain of the long empty waterway occasionally jolting the coach and its occupants. Above, the morning sky had begun to take on the color of tarnished metal.

From somewhere to the right came a lone call, a howl drifting through the trees, a ghostly, unsettling sound. For a moment, it was followed by silence, but then answered by a second howl, then a third, a fourth. Then a chorus, carried along by the cold, gusting wind.

From the driver’s seat, Murdock muttered a curse. ”I thought you said there hadn’t been any trouble this way.”

The guard cocked his weapon. [Language unknown: Poilpo haic’p fover. Ateck an plriha. Lliote ere resanyhassom the ainterect eraticithain.”]

”Hang on, folks,” Murdock called down as he snapped the reins, urging his team to go faster, ”We’re gonna try to get clear of this wash.”

OOC: Everyone kindly provide me with a Notice roll.

Life was full of ironies, like being the only one deliberately paying attention to what's going on outside and not realizing what's going on outside.

21:30, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 3,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1.  Notice.

Jake, meanwhile, had his old instincts for danger start kicking him as he looked out through the window.

((OOC: 20:55, Today: Jake McGraw rolled 7,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max ((7,2)).

Note: Have you configured the die roller for Savage Worlds yet? It didn't look like it when I was rolling...I had to manually check the "Reroll Max Die" box.))

Jacinta perked up at the howls and snuffed out her cigar.  After removing her hat, she stuck her head out of the window, braids flying.  When she sat back down, she was squinting from the wind.  "Sounds like trouble."  She probably shouldn't have been smiling about it.


21:25, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 3,6 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4.  Notice. 

Al nodded at Jake's commentary on churches. "Sure is a church. My uncle, like my Pa, is Methodist. Weren't none to happy when the church went ta disuse. Has ta travel a bit to attend services nowadays. He might be one of the happiest folks in Lincoln ta see a Methodist minister in town. As fer havin' two religions in town, well, I think most folk have more ta worry 'bout than that."

At the commentary from the driver, Albert scanned outside the stagecoach. Seemed like he might be looking for wolves, if his ears could be believed. He did take the opportunity to take a look at Jacinta's braids as they fluttered in the breeze, quietly appreciating a nice head of hair.


20:28, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 4,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Notice.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:17, Wed 31 Jan 2018.

Bryan continued to listen to the discussion among the others quietly, keeping a keen eye. He wasn't sure what the howling indicated, but in his experience it would be unusual for wolves to move on a stage.

He looked out the nearest open window to see of anything visual joined the sound to give him a clue.

22:48, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 4,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Notice.

"And yet, somehow, that ain't never stopped no one." Jake says as he watches the land roll by. "Always seems to be someone willin' to get their knickers in a twist about any damn thing."

Tamsin perked up, taking the sheet from Jacinta, eyes scanning it. "Thanks," she murmured, looking up at the woman. "I'll give it a shot. Might mean less trips out to Lincoln whenever I need more. Whether it wants to grow or not..."

She gave a shrug, tucking the pages away. Before she could settle herself back down came... whatever it was from outside. She leaned forward again, peering out as best she could. This was a first for her, that was for sure.


13:29, Today: Tamsin River rolled 7,3 using d4,d6, rerolling max (((4+3)7,3)).

Rev. Earnest Allgood rolled 1,1 using d6,d6 for Notice.

The coach picks up speed, the wheels bouncing roughshod over the parched earth, the voice of the wind reaching a haunted moan as it travels through the open spaces of the stage. Those watching the passing terrain see gray canine forms, large and powerful, flanking the stagecoach on both sides of the wash, keeping pace with the struggling horses. Occasionally, one of the pursuers lets loose with a piercing howl. The number of them is difficult to count from the rushing vehicle, but there are easily ten of the animals giving chase.


”It’s them, the driver says, his voice wavering, Los lobos muertos. They’ve returned.”

”Don’t lose your nerve,” Murdock answers, his tone sharp, ”I haven’t lost a stage yet. Not planning to start today.”

He snaps the reins, encouraging the horses’ gallop.

"Dios mío," Jacinta breathed.  "We are being hunted."   It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Albert looked over at Jacinta with a smile. "Seems so. Hope its not salt they're after as a few folk in this stagecoach seem a bit salty." He shrugged. "Course if ever there was a time ta check yer loadout and safety, now'd be it."

Taking his own advice, Albert slid his six-shooter out of its holster while trying not to shift his bulk into anyone nearby. He checked the chamber to make certain he knew where the special bullets were loaded. Not that he didn't already know, but it never hurt to make certain. While he had the cylinder opened, he looked over at Kate. "Hey Double Kay, what caliber bullets ya usin' nowadays, anyhow?"

Kate slid her gunfighter's rig into a secure, more orthodox position.  The sixgun was in her hand.  Releasing the loading latch, she checked the cylinder after it broke open and she proceeded to load the sixth round.

Albert knew how to make Kate feel excited when he wanted to apparently.  "So you noticed.  This is new.  Schofield number three, third model.  All the good parts of the original with a reinforced pawl and chambered in forty four Winchester centerfire."

She closed the loaded weapon carefully with a smirk.  The front of the trigger guard had been cut away, the hammer was clearly a custom part, and despite being a late model Schofield it only had a five inch barrel.

"If I'm salty, it's only 'cause I've been seasoned by bitter experience." Jake shrugs and checks his gun. It wasn't fancified like Kate's, but it was loaded and ready. He looked around the coach and forced a smile he didn't feel. "'Wolves o' death,' huh? Reckon that's a grandiose title for a pack o' mangy mutts..." he trailed off as a thought occurred to him. He looked at Kate for a moment, remembering how she'd started earlier when he was tinkering with his device.

"You know...if we're dealin' with overly aggressive dogs..." He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, just thinking out loud, but as he spoke he set his gun aside and pulled out the doohickey he'd been playing with earlier, as well as a screwdriver and pliers. "The thing about dogs is, they hear really well. Things man can't. You can make a whistle that you can blow to high heaven and never hear, but will rile up every dog on the farm. So I wonder..." He begins tinkering with the device. "If I calibrate this just so...increase the amplitude, and then direct it..." his hands flew over the doohickey, "I wonder if I can't make somethin' that'd make them doggies jump just like Kate here did. Maybe even scare them a little, send 'em runnin' the other way." He held up the newly configured device, which still didn't look much more like a mess of wires, metal, and a tiny coal boiler. "And here we go! Ultrasonic panic cannon!" He grins, genuinely this time. "This oughta give them puppies a fright." His grin faded a little. "Or burst our eardrums, make all our noses bleed, and send out a vibration that'll shake the carriage apart." He shrugs. "But I reckon there's only a one in ten chance o' that happenin'."

((OOC: Jake's going to spend an action to set a Trapping for his Impromptu Weaponry power. What I'm aiming for is to add a sonic trapping to my bolt that will deal d4 damage instead of d6, but will cause whatever is hit with it to make a Fear check in addition to the damage.

14:03, Today: Jake McGraw rolled 8,2 using d10,d6, rerolling max.  Weird Science.

Is this acceptable?))

”He doesn’t mean the wolves of death,” Murdock called back, having overheard McGraw’s comment, ”He means dead wolves. As in, they ain’t living. Ramirez here closed one out when they attacked a wagon carrying silver ore that he was guarding. Said there was nothing to the critter but bones and matted fur.”

“He was the only one made out of that run.”

Garrett scowled and shook his head as he freed the rifle he brought with him from its scabbard. Gazing out the window, he muttered, ”And here I was thinking this trip was going to be uneventful.”

The bounding wolves kept pace with the stage, a few of the large creatures surging forward, drawing level with the galloping horses. Above, a low rumble rolled through the graying sky from the north.

OOC:  @ Jake Mcgraw: That works. The Bolt will inflict 1d4 damage, but will require a Fear Test from any target it strikes.

From somewhere amongst the thickening canopy of trees atop the rise to the right of the hurtling stagecoach came a voice, clear and distinct despite the thunder of hooves, the rumble of wheels on hard earth, and the whistling wind. Its tone was enraged, its words guttural, and though the meaning was lost to most of the listeners, it seemed certain that it was issuing a command.

[Language unknown: “Out om! Conforear t ovetrafor tictedshe!”]

OOC: Would all of the passengers kindly provide me with an Initiative draw?

For those still learning their way around Savage Worlds, draw a single card using in-game dice roller. Use the “Deck of 54 Cards (includes Jokers)” option on the Game System/Special Dice menu.

20:32, Today: Kansas Kate drew the single card: 4D using a deck of 54 cards.

I know, I know, couldn't afford all the Edges right away.  Next advance probably :p

"Oh." Jake says in reply to Murdock. "Well...that changes things, then. Damn. Dead things usually don't have fear reflexes."

((OOC: I was actually expecting the bolt to deal 2d4 damage, 3d4 if I pump an extra Power Point into it--you know, just dropping the damage down a die type rather than number of dice. Still weaker than a normal bolt, but not that much weaker. Though since these are apparently undead wolves, it might not matter, since undead are generally immune to Fear effects anyway.

Initiative: AD

20:24, Today: Jake McGraw drew the single card: AD using the Deadlands system.))

OOC: @ Jake McGraw: 2d4 it is. :)

Albert nodded at KK's response. "Sure did notice, double-kay. That's a nice piece. Say, if you wanna..." Al appeared about to pop one of his bullets out, but the sudden appearance of someone else and the new information made Albert lock the cylinder back into place. There would hopefully be another time for such shenanigans.

He looked around for those picking up firearms. "Prolly should take out the ones pacin' the horses first. Don't much like the prospect of walkin' home."

The ranch hand looked around for who might be doing the talking.

21:33, Today: Albert Cooper drew the single card: 4H using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:17, Mon 05 Feb 2018.

"A good idea, Mr. Cooper," he said. "It'll be a long walk without horses." He studied the scene to see if there seemed a likelihood of being overtaken, trying to judge the speed of the horses versus that of the wolves.

He made ready to exit if needed to secure the wagon, though he took a moment to consider the little used Dragoon he wore at his belt. He had already taken his measure of the other individuals that he rode with early on. He knew two of their capabilities with a fair measure, had a reasonable guess as to three of them, and was curious to see of another two.


00:37, Today: Bryan Lee drew the single card: 9C using a deck of 54 cards.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:33, Fri 09 Feb 2018.

Jacinta said nothing more, but she did ready her weapon.  The Winchester '73 that she'd wedged between her and the wall was well used, but in good condition.  She racked the lever to chamber a round, squinting once more into the wind as she searched the area again.  The unearthly voice made hairs on the back of her neck stand up.


00:21, Today: Jacinta Castillo drew the single card: BJ! using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Rev. Earnest Allgood drew the AS for Initiative.

Earnest pulls a small book from his inside pocket over his heart and clasps it in his joined hands. Bowing his head, he intones: "Oh, Heavenly Lord Jesus Christ, protect us in this our hour of need. As You harrowed Hell after Your Resurrection, drive back these demonic creatures. Return them unto the dust from which You created them as pure, living beings. In Your Holy Name, we pray this. Amen."

Tamsin took a deep breath and sighed it out, readying the Colt Lightning she kept on her. She wasn't one to really use it much- in fact this was pretty well the opposite of what she normally did- but sometimes things just needed to be done. "Pacing the horses, right. Amen," she added as an afterthought when the Reverend finished.

07:47, Today: Tamsin River drew the single card: 3C using a deck of 54 cards.

16:06, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 1,5,1,9,3,3,2,8 using 1d8,1d8,1d8,1d8,1d8+1,1d8+1,1d8+1,1d8+1, rerolling max.  Spirit.

Abruptly, for reasons none in the coach could discern, two of the wolves closing in on the left side of the stage appeared to stumble, crashing to the ground before literally coming apart, fragments of rotted hide and dry bones scattering across the rocky soil.

A couple of the canines loosed banshee like howls, seemingly in response to the loss of members of their pack.

OOC: The Reverend’s prayer destroys two of the wolves. Three of the wolves on the right of the stage are shaken. Only the lead wolf on the right hand side is unfazed by Allgood’s entreaty to the Almighty.



Initiative Order

• BJ! - Jacinta Castillo
• AS - Rev. Earnest Allgood
• AD - Jake McGraw
• KD - Quinn Murdock (Driver)
• KC - The Lifeless Pack (Wolves)
• QD - Pat Garrett
• 9C - Bryan Lee
• 4H - Albert Cooper
• 4D - Kansas Kate
• 3D - Gabriel Ramirez (Stage Guard)
• 3C - Tamsin River

After declaring and rolling for your actions, please make an initiative draw for the following round.

Shooters: Please note that the stagecoach is an unstable platform, so a -2 modifier should be applied to all Shooting rolls (unless you have the Steady Hands edge).

Please note that you it’s assumed each character has sufficient window space from their position to see and/or fire a weapon (or doohickey, or unspeakable arcane talent you’re not supposed to possess). Should anyone wish to move from one side of the coach to the other, doing so is a free action.

First Up: Jacinta. (Note that the Joker allows you to take your turn at any point in the round you wish, so don’t have to go first. If you choose not to, just let me know you’re holding your action. Whenever you act, be sure to apply a +2 modifier to any trait tests and +2 to any damage rolls.)

"Amen, Padre!"  BANG!  She'd cross herself, but didn't have time just then -- or free hands.  A loud rifle blast punctuated the end of the prayer as Jacinta let a bullet fly at the lead wolf on the left.  She grinned as she jerked the lever to chamber another round.



OOC:
Shooting:  13 (2 raises)
Damage: 15

19:47, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 13,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (8+5)13,2.  Shooting.
20:08, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 11 using 2d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of 6,3.  Damage.
20:09, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Damage - Raise.

Initiative: 4S

22:18, Today: Jacinta Castillo drew the single card: 4S using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:19, Thu 08 Feb 2018.

Castillo’s well aimed shot finds the charging wolf’s head, reducing it to a lifeless collection of leather and bone.

Next up: Reverend Allgood!

I neglected to provide the wolves’ relevant stats in the prior post. Each undead canine has a Parry of 6 and a Toughness of 7.

Also, to avoid any wrongful inferences from the above description, headshots are not required to put these creatures down.

In reply to Marshal (msg # 77):

Earnest continues to pray for the safety of all aboard.

Next: Jake McGraw!

((OOC: Since my power currently has the trappings of a directed sound wave, should I be rolling shooting or Weird Science? I can make a case for both, but wanted your opinion. Also, because of the trapping, does the Unsteady Platform penalty apply?))

OOC: I’m leaning on the power itself as much (or more) than the trapping for this. Given that it is a Bolt, as opposed to say, a Burst, that suggests to me that it is a focused beam rather than something with a wider area of effect. Hence, it requires some process of aiming to be directed at a specific target.

So, yes, under the circumstances, the unstable platform penalty would still apply. However, given that it’s a device of McGraw’s own unique design, I would be fine with you using Weird Science instead of Shooting for the combat roll.

Jake set his hat aside, then leaned out the window to point his odd device at the dead wolves. He flicked the switch a number of times. The gizmo made a not-noise three times, a whine one could almost hear, but nothing else seemed to happen. Jake pulled himself back inside and scowled. "Dammit. Couldn't get it pointed right." He laments.

((OOC: alrighty. I'll spend 3 pp and shoot 3 bolts, one at each of the front three wolves on my side of the carriage.

13:31, Today: Jake McGraw rolled 3,1,3,-1 using d10-2,d10-2,d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max.  Weird Science.

That's 3 solid misses thanks to the penalty. Darn. Well, at least I didn't get any Nat 1's on the Weird Science die (that last number there was my Wild Die), so the device doesn't explode. But darn it. Not impressive.

next Turn's Card: 3H. Sigh.))

Murdock gave all of his attention to the reins in his hands and the team of horses before him, as they pulled the stage through the dry wash.

OOC: Murdock holds his action.

OOC: The wolves that were shaken by the Reverend’s prayer will attempt to recover.

21:39, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 7,6,8 using 1d8+1,1d8+1,1d8+1, rerolling max.  Spirit.

They do, and are able to act normally this round.

The lone surviving wolf pacing the left side of the coach closed the distance between itself and the wooden vehicle, launching itself into the air as it came within a few feet of one of the spinning wheels.

21:47, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 7 using 1d8, rerolling max.  Wolf 1 - Agility.

Its leap landed it on the seat beside Murdock the driver, where it briefly struggled to maintain its footing, its dry snarl clearly audible within the coach.

On the right, the lead wolf charged at the horse at the head of the team, snapping viciously at its flank.

21:57, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 9 using 1d8, rerolling max.  Fighting - Wolf 2.

21:59, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 5,1 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max.  Damage - Wolf 2.
22:02, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max.  Damage - Wolf 2 - Raise.

Total Damage: 10

The horse is shaken.

The wolf’s bite tore a gash in the bay colored mare’s side, prompting a panicked whinny from the mount.

Another of the wolves followed the leader’s example, biting at the legs of the horse in the middle of the team, but failing to do any actual harm.

22:08, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 1 using 1d8, rerolling max.  Wolf 3 - Fighting.

The third beast on the right leaped for Ramirez, the stage guard, but fell short of its jump, never reaching him.

22:09, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 0 using 1d8-2, rerolling max.  Wolf 4 - Agility.

The last of the group of canines on the right of the stage lessened its pace, falling back until it was keeping stride with coach’s rearmost window.

22:19, Today: The Lifeless Pack drew the single card: KD using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

”Dammit,” Garrett muttered as the last of the wolves on his side of the coach leaped onto it. The hunter leaned out of the window with his rifle, struggling with the awkward angle, trying to avoid hitting the driver as he drew a bead on the canine.

Garrett will spend the round aiming.

22:25, Today: Patrick Garrett drew the single card: AD using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Next: Bryan Lee!

Rev. Earnest Allgood drew the single card: 4C.

Bryan surveyed the situation, taking into account the number of wolves and the direction of their movement as best as he could, watching as Jacinta dispatched one with a deadly shot. When he heard the sound of a wolf leaping to attack the driver, he made his decision.

Sticking his hands out of the window, he hoisted himself up bodily onto the roof of the stagecoach and folded into a crouched position. Holding himself steady with one hand, he executed the Maze Dragon Strikes Twice, with a snap of his wrist his bare fist striking the wolf one way across its jaw furiously arcing it upwards, so that he could then bring it back down in an attempted crushing blow atop its head.

---

OOC:

• Bryan uses his movement to climb to the top of the wagon, and his action to activate the Quickness power, giving him another action this turn that he can use immediately.
• He uses his second action to make an attack, with a second free attack as well courtesy of Superior Kung Fu: Wing Chun. These attacks are against an unarmed combatant (+2), Wild Attacks (+2 attack and damage, Parry -2 till next round), with a +1 Gang-Up bonus courtesy of Murdoch.

ACTION 1
Agility: 5 (Climbing to the top of the wagon)
Quickness: 5

ACTION 2
Fighting: 10
Fighting: 13
Damage 1: 13
Damage 2: 28

21:10, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 3,5 using d8,d6, rerolling max.  Agility (move to top).
12:27, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 3,5 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Quickness.
21:29, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 8,13 using d8+5,d6+5, rerolling max.  Wing Chun Bonus Attack (Unarmed Defender, Wild Attack, Gang-Up).
21:29, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 9,10 using d8+5,d6+5, rerolling max.  Fighting Attack (Unarmed Defender, Wild Attack, Gang-Up).
21:31, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 28 using d6+d4+d6+2, rerolling max.  Martial Artist Damage + Wild Attack + Raise. Again.
21:31, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 13 using d6+d4+d6+2, rerolling max.  Martial Artist Damage + Wild Attack + Raise.

21:37, Today: Bryan Lee drew the single card: 10C using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative Next Round.



This message was last edited by the player at 04:43, Fri 09 Feb 2018.

If the wolf had any thought of escaping, Murdock gamely blocked its way, elbowing it toward Lee as the Ranger unleashed his vicious attack. At the first strike, the creature went limp, its body sagging as its head snapped upward. The second blow appeared to literally shatter the canine, its body coming apart in a cloud of bone, fur, and grave dust, the fragments falling from the stage onto the passing terrain below.

Murdock let out a breath, shivering involuntarily. Glancing at Lee, he nodded and said, ”Nice of you to join us up here.”

Next: Albert Cooper!

"Wasn't gonna let you have all the fun," he said, flashing a smile to the driver, eyes scanning the remaining wolves as he contemplated his next move. It was his sincere hope that the remainder of the wolves would be taken down from a flurry of gunshots from inside the stagecoach, but he was ready to protect the horses at need.

Albert winced at the assault from the wolves, but his face went quickly from sympathetic pain to annoyance. And then to anger. "I said, I ain't walkin' home, you mangy mutt." Albert leaned out the side and drew a bead on whichever of the Lifeless Pack dared assault one of the horses. His thumb slid the revolver's cyclinder just so, in order to get the round he wanted set just right.

The pearl-gripped revolver in his hand seemed to shimmer from a dull gray to a shinier silver a moment before Albert fired true, and the carvings along the barrel became slightly more apparent. Albert then spun the pistol on his finger once before letting the bullet fly. The small bit of lead seemed to explode a part of the beast away once it entered the thing. "Don't know if there's a doggy heaven. But I think that one just went to doggy hell."

OOC: Activate Hexslinger Power (Boost Shooting) with a raise (9). Adds 2 die sizes to his shooting skill and costs 1 less power point (So it costs 1 power point and lasts 3 rounds) 6/10 PP left.

Albert is trying to keep the gun out of visual range of as many of his fellow passengers as he can by firing from outside the stagecoach.

Shootist bullet is used (Loaded for bear). He still has two of those in the cylinder.

Hits (after using white chip) for 18 damage.

3H for next initiative

09:35, Today: Albert Cooper drew the single card: 3H using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.
09:28, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 18 using 3d6, rerolling max.  Damage (LFB).
09:28, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 5,2 using d12-2,d6-2, rerolling max.  White chip.
09:28, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 2,1 using d12-2,d6-2, rerolling max.  Shootin' (LFB, unstable).
09:27, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 3,9 using d8,d6, rerolling max.  Hexslingin'.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:52, Fri 09 Feb 2018.

Cooper’s well placed shot opened a sizeable wound in the wolf’s flank. It crashed headlong onto the sandy earth, rapidly decaying into a rolling cloud of grave dust. From the seat above, Ramirez let out a whoop of approval.

Next: Kansas Kate!



OOC: From her position at one of the windows, Kate should have a clear line of sight at any of the three surviving wolves to the right of the stagecoach.

Thank you!

Speed kills, Kate reminded herself.  It was a less than idea position to fire from, but taking time to lead the target into the shot wasn't really an option if they were going for the horse team.

Figuring it was just as well to try for the one closest the horses, she lined up on the front sight and fired.  The trigger broke clean, but it was a might unpredictable if she'd hit anything with everyone in motion like this.

They all look to be in short range so might as well shoot the most distant one that's closest to the horsies.

13:40, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 5,2 using d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 7,4.  Shooting with Unstable Platform.

I'll take that!

13:41, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 13 using 2d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of (6+2)8,4.  Lead Salad.

Nice!  Next round:

13:41, Today: Kansas Kate drew the single card: JD using a deck of 54 cards.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:44, Sat 10 Feb 2018.

Kate’s bullet finds the back of the wolf’s head, blasting it into a spray of fur and bone fragments. The remains of the creature crash lifelessly into a thick clump of mesquite.

Ramirez mutters a few words in Spanish under his breath before firing at the wolf that attacked him. The blast from the shotgun scours some fur from the undead creature’s back, but leaves it otherwise unharmed.

19:25, Today: Gabriel Ramirez rolled 8 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+2)8.  Shooting.

(The +2 Shotgun bonus nullifies the -2 Unstable Platform penalty.)

19:27, Today: Gabriel Ramirez rolled 5 using 3d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,3,1.  Damage - Shotgun.

19:36, Today: Gabriel Ramirez drew the single card: 9D using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Next: Tamsin River!

Tamsin squeezes herself to the other side of the cabin, attempting to make a shot. But it's shaky, she's not much for shooting anyways, and she can't peel her eyes away from the bizarre way the wolves are dying. Doesn't add up to anything useful. "Well, I tried. Anyone hurt?"

08:25, Today: Tamsin River rolled 1,2 using d6-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4.  Shooting - unstable platform.

08:38, Today: Tamsin River drew the single card: 10C using a deck of 54 cards.

22:08, Today: Marshal rolled 1 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1.  Horse - Spirit.

The injured horse remains shaken.

New Round

Initiative Order

• AD - Pat Garrett
• KD - The Lifeless Pack (Wolves)
• KD - Quinn Murdock
• JD - Kansas Kate
• 10C - Bryan Lee
• 10C - Tamsin River
• 9D - Gabriel Ramirez
• 4S - Jacinta Castillo
• 4C - Rev. Earnest Allgood
• 3H - Albert Cooper
• 3H - Jake McGraw

Next: Patrick Garrett!

”Huh,” Garrett said, shaking his head in admiration as Bryan Lee dispatched the wolf on the driver’s seat. Without a target, the hunter kept his rifle shouldered, scanning the trail ahead for further threats.

OOC: Garrett holds his action.

[Language unknown: “Oertichas oultraing nd hotece plter us wancutmi! Mohana a!”] The ghostly voice echoed once more through the trees that whistled past the coach, seeming to originate from both the east and west simultaneously.

Three more of the gray wolves, their loose hides rent open by previous mortal wounds, emerged from the woods ahead of the stage, two to the left of the coach, one to the right. All three loped forward, moving to intercept the horses, one of them loosing an eerie, toneless howl.

The wolf that had fallen back in pace with the rear of the stagecoach suddenly surged forward with preternatural speed, launching itself at the last of the open windows. It cleared the opening, crashing into the interior of the coach, snapping at the legs of Reverend Allgood as it thrashed about, struggling to find its footing. The sound of its jaws closing was sharp within the interior of the stage, but the minister was quick enough to avoid the beast’s bite.

22:56, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 9 using 1d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of (8+3)11.  Agility.

22:57, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 2 using 1d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Fighting.

The other surviving canine leaped for Ramirez again, its jump on target this time. It reached the driver’s seat, its jaws clamping onto the surprised guard’s throat as it did so, its yellowed teeth tearing the man’s neck open with horrific force. Blood poured down the front of Ramirez’ shirt as he tumbled from the stage, his expression one of shock and disbelief.

22:58, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 5 using 1d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of 7.  Agility.

22:58, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 13 using 1d8-2, rerolling max with rolls of (8+7)15.  Fighting.

23:00, Today: The Lifeless Pack rolled 7,4,5 using 1d8,1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,4,5.  Damage - Bite.

Total Damage: 16

23:18, Today: The Lifeless Pack drew the single card: 7C using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Seeing the wolves emerge from the trees, Garrett took aim at the first of the pair he saw and squeezed off a shot. The bullet struck home, slamming the beast into a nearby tree, where it crumpled into a heap of dry fur and broken bones.

23:21, Today: Patrick Garrett rolled 5,3 using 1d10-2,1d6-2.  Shooting.

23:23, Today: Patrick Garrett rolled 11 using 2d10.  Damage - Bullard.

23:28, Today: Patrick Garrett drew the single card: AD using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Working to keep a good hold on the reins, Murdock tried to jab an elbow at the wolf that had landed beside him, but the creature managed to evade his attack.

23:38, Today: Quinn Murdock rolled 2 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2.  Fighting.

23:41, Today: Quinn Murdock drew the single card: 10D using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Next: Kansas Kate!

Well.  At this distance (or lack thereof), there wasn't much difference between steel and lead.

"This is gettin' to be be ri-goddamn-diculous."  Despite the words, she was smiling.  With preternatural quickness Kate come up with an Arkansas Toothpick and slashed into the aggressive canine with a loud cry of savagery.  She was going for the metaphorical (or perhaps literal) throat.

Kate uses her Quick Draw Edge to retrieve the melee weapon, avoiding a MAP.  I presume the others in immediate vicinity count as Allies for a +3 Ganging Up Bonus.  Kate is also Wild Attacking.

05:48, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 9,6 using d8+5,d6+5, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1.  Fighting with Gang Up, WA.

Well not as good as I'd hoped but it's a hit.

05:50, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 4,4 using d6+2,d4+1, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3.  Strength, Weapon.

But we're not done yet.  Kate will spend a white chip to play an Adventure Card, Deadly Blow.  That will increase the damage to 16.

05:52, Today: Kansas Kate drew the single card: 10S using a deck of 54 cards.

The feral canine found itself faced with an opponent who was equally feral.

Kate’s attack all but decapitated the wolf, its head remaining attached only by a few threads of dry sinew. Even as it fell onto its side, it began to come apart, leaving only cracked bones and patches of filthy fur to litter the floor of the stagecoach.

Next: Bryan Lee and Tamsin River can take their turns.

He struggled to contain the inner rage that crept up inside of him as he watched one of the wolves dispatch Ramirez, furious at both the attack on the man, the man's death, and his own inability to intervene in a timely manner to save his life. Taking deep breaths, he relied on a meditative technique he had learned that restored calm to him even in such times, reaching out his hand and executing two controlled punches into the wolf, though seeing it withstand his assault, he lost his control and unleashed his full fury upon the beast, overextending himself and leaving himself vulnerable.

"One more comin' up on the left, and one on the right too!" he yelled out, directing his head back for a moment, hoping the direction and volume of his voice would let him be heard over the sound of wind and gunfire, so as to give some forewarning to those still inside the stagecoach. Hopefully while he safeguarded the driver from the wolves that seemed determined to take him out, the guns could handle those that were still out of striking distance.

---

• With Quickness still active, Bryan has two actions this turn. He uses both to punch the crap out of the wolf that's trying to attack the driver. On each action, he takes a standard attack and a Wing Chun bonus attack.
• He attacks normally the first action, and uses Wild Attack the second, leaving himself at Parry 4 until his next action.
• No outright wounds, but probably enough consecutive Shaken results to make the difference.

Attack 1: 6
Attack 2: 13
Attack 3: 9
Attack 4: 12
Damage 1: 4
Damage 2: 8
Damage 3: 10
Damage 4: 9

12:36, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 9 using d6+d4+d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2,1.  Martial Artists Damage + Raise + Wild Attack. Again.
12:36, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 10 using d6+d4+d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1,2.  Martial Artists Damage + Raise + Wild Attack.
12:34, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 11,14 using d8+5,d6+5, rerolling max with rolls of 6,(6+3)9.  Wing Chun Bonus Attack (Wild Attack, Gang-Up).
12:34, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 11,10 using d8+5,d6+5, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5.  Fighting Attack (Wild Attack, Gang-Up).
12:29, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 8 using d6+d4+d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2,5.  Martial Artists Damage + Raise.
12:28, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 4 using d6+d4, rerolling max with rolls of 1,3.  Martial Artist Damage.
12:28, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 15,4 using d8+3,d6+3, rerolling max with rolls of (8+4)12,1.  Wing Chun Bonus Attack (Gang-Up).
12:27, Today: Bryan Lee rolled 4,8 using d8+3,d6+3, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5.  Fightin' (Gang-Up).

12:44, Today: Bryan Lee drew the single card: 9H using the Deadlands system.  Initiative.

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:55, Tue 13 Feb 2018.

The first pair of Lee's blows seemed to stun the snarling creature, its footing becoming unsteady on the rattling, bench-like seat. The follow up attack by the Ranger caved in the beast's side with a sickening crunch, causing the canine to go completely limp and slide off of the coach, smashing into pieces as it impacted the packed earth below.

OOC: Bryan's second strike leaves the wolf shaken. His third, as the undead beast is already shaken, converts to a wound, which is sufficient to dispatch it.

I'm going to treat Tamsin River as though she is holding her action, which will enable her to act later in the round, if she chooses to do so.

As Ramirez has fallen prey to the the wolves, that means...

Next: Jacinta Castillo!

Jacinta swore in Spanish at the wolf that leapt into their midst and brought her rifle to bear, but Kate dispatched it in brutal fashion.  Grinning at the woman's prowess, she leaned back to the window and braced herself on the frame.  The careening stage didn't seem to bother her much as she pulled the trigger.  BOOM!  Another shot rocked from her Winchester, finding the canine target on the left.


OOC:
Shooting:  12 (2 raises)
Damage: 13

18:12, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 4,12 using d8-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 6,(6+6+2)14.  Shooting.
18:19, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 9 using 2d8, rerolling max with rolls of 2,7.  Damage.
18:20, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Damage - Raise.

Initiative: 6S

18:21, Today: Jacinta Castillo drew the single card: 6S using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

Castillo’s bullet punches into the wolf’s chest. The beast pitches over onto one side, thrashing about momentarily as though it has been grievously wounded, before abruptly collapsing into a dusty mound of yellowed bones.

Only one of the canines remains to the right of the stagecoach, still loping forward toward the galloping horses.

Next: Reverend Allgood!

Earnest thanks God for his escape from the wolf in the coach as he keeps praying for the deliverance of all and for the soul of the guard.

Next: Albert Cooper and Jake McGraw can take their turns!

Albert takes aim at the remaining wolf, though a sudden bump of the stagecoach causes his shot to go wide of the mark. The bullet leaves a small crater in the earth where it hits, throwing dirt up around the point of impact. Albert curses under his breath, apparently at the dastardly conveyance which happened to jolt at just the wrong moment.

OOC: 3 to hit, 4D for initiative.

Bullet was Loaded for Bear. One of three remain. 6/10 power points left.

07:09, Today: Albert Cooper drew the single card: 4D using a deck of 54 cards.  Initiative.

07:08, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 3,0 using d12-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2.  Shootin' (LFB, unstable).
This message was last edited by the player at 15:31, Wed 14 Feb 2018.

Jake, leaning out the window with his device, doesn't fare any better at getting a clean shot at the thing.

((OOC: 09:41, Today: Jake McGraw rolled 2,0 using d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2.  Weird Science.

The unstable penalty strikes again!

Card: 7S))

Cooper’s shot goes just wide, slamming into a nearby pine tree, shattering a significant portion of the trunk and showering the lone wolf with splinters. Likewise, McGraw’s shot is off the mark, by virtue of the rattling stage, but the device’s unseen force tears a small crater in the soil inches ahead of the beast’s paws.

Startled by the force directed against it, and aware that it now faces its formidable prey alone, the surviving wolf turns tail and dashes for the cover of the nearby trees, quickly vanishing into the dense shadows of the forest.

OOC: Combat over.

"Well that was fun.  Anyone dead, speak up!"

Kate knelt next to the weird semi-headless cadaver to help throw the nasty thing out and poked it with her gloved finger as she wiped its dry viscera off on its mostly furless hide, trying to spare a good knife from having to be put away dirty.  "Damn, that is one sorry ass mangy looking critter.  The hell it's been eating, cowpies, toadstools and the Devil's weed?"

She called up top.  "Nice job there Slick, great shortcut.  I can't wait to ride again."

But the truth was she was actually glad it had happened.  It vindicated her own biases and prejudices about stagecoach travel.

"Ain't dead, but they sure are.  Were.  Or are again, I guess."  Jacinta chuckled as she pulled a few bullets from her belt and reloaded her rifle.  She stuck her head out of the window and yelled up at the two on top.  "Y'all hurt up there?  Wolf getcha?"   

Jake scowled. "I don't think killin' 'em again is gonna stop 'em." He nudges the remains with his boot. "Look. There ain't enough o' the thing left. This ain't a complete corpse. Whatever witchery animated them needed only the idea of a body...the spell filled in the rest. I heard a voice on the wind, right before the reinforcements arrived. I reckon that was whoever was controllin' these things whistlin' up more on the spot." He rubbed his jaw. "I've seen deaders afore. A couple o' the railroads play around with forces that'd curl yer hair. This don't look like Bayou Vermilion work, though...their deaders are whole corpses animated by some kind o' elixir. This reminds me more o' the sort o' thing you'd see Black River pull off..."

He stopped and looked around the stage, suddenly aware that he was surrounded by people who likely hadn't been in the thick of the Rail Wars like he'd been. "I'm...not sure that made a whole lot o' sense to y'all."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:53, Fri 16 Feb 2018.

Having been in the thick of the Rail Wars, Albert nodded knowingly. "That tracks purty well with what I seen. Course it'd help if anyone saw the person what commanded these puppies. I was purty sure it came from off the right side, back in the trees. But I couldn't see who dunnit. Anyone get a good look?"

As they explained, Kate began to realize everyone was right.  She frowned.

It was dead.  She had seen this before, in the hellscape of her dreams.

Sometimes, it was just the whole world but her who was dead, but still moving around in a twisted mockery of life.  Sometimes, she was the dead one, still wandering the long blighted earth after countless hundreds of years, forced to duel any wandering gunslinger she could find, sometimes losing but never dying...  She knew she would be seeing this creature again in the night, during her agonized cries and cold sweats.

When Black River was mentioned, all the joviality and mirth that had entered her disposition faded instantly and she was back to being sour again.  With a grunt, she grabbed and hoisted the nasty thing not waiting for help.

There were times when she felt like that damned witch's mark on the back of her hand glowed like molten iron in a forge and that absolutely everyone could see it, despite two layers of obfuscation.

While waiting to hear if anyone saw the person that commanded the wolves, Albert took to reloading his revolver. After the second one slid in, he furrowed his brow in thought for a moment, then looked toward the other two whose immediate reaction had been to shoot the things that sought to make him walk home. Or worse. "Double Kay, Jay Lo - y'all both did a nice job shootin' them critters. I don't like the thought of walkin' ta Lincoln, so thanks fer that. And in case we meet any more of 'em, or similar, I might be able ta doctor one of yer bullets ta, mmmm, make 'em fly better and put a little more ooomph into it when they hit."

He looked back and forth at both KK and Jacinta. "If yer interested, pass me one of yer bullets. See if I can't purty it up."

Kate had no idea what he had in mind but Kate couldn't help but be a little bit pedantic.

"I don't carry loose bullets.  Now if you mean a cartridge... here, go bananas."  She slid one off of her rig.

“The Ranger here kept me from gettin’ bit, ma’am. Doesn’t look like they ever got close to hurting him.” Murdock called back. He shook his head regretfully. ”Poor Gabe didn’t fare so well.” Glancing over at Lee, he added, ”I’m gonna have to ride back out here in a day or so with some of his family. See if we can’t find him. Bring him back for a proper burial.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:25, Fri 16 Feb 2018.

Garrett reloaded his rifle, but kept it out of its scabbard, leaning the weapon against his left shoulder. Peering back out the window, he said, ”That voice out there. It was speaking Comanche. It was urging the wolves to attack us. Something about giving our blood to the mountain.” He shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the passing terrain. ”I couldn’t make all of it out, in the fighting. But that was the general idea.”

"Well now you know to bring a lotta gun hands. Maybe a good knife man up here too. Have a couple ride up top and take it slow and you should manage to run a pack that size off. Maybe I'll come out with you if my duties allow - no man deserves to be left out like that," he said. He clapped the man on the shoulder and swung back down into the body of the stagecoach.

"Fine shooting, ladies and gentleman. Murdock and I managed to deal with the ones that got up top, though sadly not in time for Mr. Ramirez, though he was avenged. Strange to have Comanche out here this far west. Once upon a time, these were borderlands of old Comancheria. Maybe they're of a mind to move back in. I'll send word to Austin about this."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 09:18, Sat 17 Feb 2018.

"Comanche?" Jacinta spit.  "Never met one I liked.  Think we should go back and find that one?  I'd love to put a bullet in his head."

Removing another bullet from her belt, she offered it to Albert.  "Ya gonna bless 'em or what?  I seen a superstitious gunslinger file crosses in all his forty-fours once."

"Reckon we ought to go back for poor Gabe anyhow...if we find him in time, maybe we can still do somethin' for him." Jake says. Not that he really believed they could help the man...but miracles did happen. "And at least we can keep this mysterious Comanche from doin' anythin' untoward with his body, even if we can't help him nor find our troublemaker." He leans back. "I ain't in an all-fired hurry to get to town. Not if we can catch the bastard while his tracks are still fresh and his wolves are pushin' daisies, temporary as that might be."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:19, Sat 17 Feb 2018.

"Well, if we went for him, supposing he's still breathing, I could probably figure something out. But it's just as likely he's been torn up by the wolf pack or drawn and quartered by the Comanche."

Tamsin wants to get the herbs she needs and get home, but at the same time...

"...and for our deliverance, oh Lord, we humbly thank Thee. Amen."

Earnest tucks his testament back into his pocket over his heart.

"I favor going back to find the man's mortal remains. He deserves a Christian burial in hallowed ground."

"Wait, is he alive or is he dead?  Because those are two very different scenarios with very different degrees of urgency."  Kate pointed out.  "I collected th' feller bought the farm."

"You'd be surprised at what you can live through." Jake says. "If there's even a chance the fella made it, we oughta at least give it a look. Wolf packs and Comanche be damned. And we still ain't got a clear idea o' what we're dealin' with. Givin' thins a look while it's still fresh and there's still light might give us some clues."

Albert smirked and kept his retort unvoiced as Kate passed him a bullet. He nodded at Jacinta as she did the same. "Bless them? Mmmmmm....somethin' like that. Sure." Albert looked down at the pair he had collected and retrieved a sharp, metal tool that looked like it could be used for engraving.

Before he could begin, conversation turned to returning for the fallen. "I'm all for helpin' a fella what needs it. If Gabe can be saved, ain't no point wastin' time yappin' 'bout it. Course if he can't, well, that's a fool's errand."

”I saw what happened to Gabe real clear,” Murdock called down, ”That wolf took his throat out. I reckon he was gone before he hit the ground,”

The driver paused, looking up at the darkening clouds. ”Right now, my priority was outrunning that rain that’s coming. Getting you folks safely in to Lincoln and having that horse seen to. But if you really want me to stop and go back now, I will. If we keep going, I’m sure some of the Montaño family will come back with me to find him just as soon as the storm passes.”

Kate weighed in.

"This infernal coach is this man's livelihood.  If the road gets rained out, he's liable to get it stuck out here for a spell and lose his situation an' fer what, so a bunch of ramblers feel better about not leavin' a coffin stuffer behind?  Th' feller got dealt a raw hand, an' we can't help him none no more."

Albert nodded at Kate's pronouncement. When it came down to business, his opinion rarely differed from hers - now was no different. "She's got it right, folks. On ta Lincoln ahead of that storm. Ain't worth the risk."

"It don't feel right, leavin' a man behind." Jake frowns. He looks over at Byran. "What do you say, Ranger? Go take a look now, or come back after the storm?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Murdock has the right of it. I don't like leaving a man out there any more than anyone else, but it won't do him much good to go back now and we could face more adversity if we stay out here in this weather. I think it best we get ourselves to town, and head back out here for Ramirez when the weather clears," he said.

"May he rest in peace, sheltered in the bosom of his loving Creator," intones Allgood, fervently.

"Me either," she agreed with Jake, though her attention was on Albert and the magic bullet.  "But there's no point in stopping if the man's dead.  Lucky that only one of our number was taken down by those wolves.  If they were dead and someone was conjuring them, that same someone could conjure more.  Stopped, we'd be an even better target for wolves.  Better chance of making it to Lincoln alive if we keep the stage moving."

Satisfied that his passengers have made their will known, Murdock urged his team into a fast gallop, the stage quaking with renewed force as its wheels sped over the rock strewn bed of the arroyo. In a short time, the right bank of the wash grew level with the rest of the trail and it veered through a clearing in the tall pines, rejoining the main route to Lincoln. Soon, the incline turned steep, the air becoming noticeably cooler, as the coach climbed into the high country.

The air grew heavy with the scent of pine as the sky finally gave up its rain, at first a gentle sprinkle, but soon a steady fall, the drops beating an uneven rhythm on the stage’s roof. The canopy of trees became thicker, their tall forms casting long shadows across the well traveled road. The path wound a serpentine course until the ground became level and it entered a valley, a wide river visible to the north. After the passage of another two miles, the rain softened to a gentle drizzle, and a row of buildings came into view.

Much of Lincoln was gathered along a central street, which seemed to follow the gentle bend of the valley itself. Some of the structures showed the passage of decades, simple buildings fashioned from thick timbers and adobe. Others were newer, built with the sensibilities born of the larger cities of the South. Although all of the passengers were aware of Lincoln’s recent reputation for being a lively center of travel and trade, the thoroughfare struck them all as especially quiet, even in light of the recent rainfall. Almost subdued. Only a handful of people were visible making their way along the road.

A few of the structures drew the passengers’ attention: the stately, two-story courthouse; the earthen brick tower, clearly constructed for defense; an especially well constructed home on the street’s southern side, its appearance a clear suggestion of wealth; a vacant church house, with a pair of individuals dutifully sweeping its steps and clearing its yard of weeds. Having already slowed his team to a trot, Murdock steered the stage through the town, passing Jake McGraw’s shop, before bring the horses to a halt in front of the last collection of buildings on the eastern end of the row. A simply painted sign identified the place as the Ellis Store and Livery. To the left of the store was a tall, well maintained stable, and a wide, tin roofed shed from which the sound of a hammer pounding metal could be heard.

Climbing down, the driver opened the door so his riders could depart. A balding man with a long, white beard and spectacles approached the stage. ”Name’s Ike Ellis,” he said, by way of introduction, ”Welcome to Lincoln.” He gave a nod of greeting to McGraw and Cooper, then frowned as he noticed the injured horse. Approaching the animal, he added, ”Looks like you may have had an eventful trip.”

OOC: I need to ask that each of the stagecoach passengers provide me with a Notice roll.

Ellis will happily talk with any of the characters that wish to speak with him. He is well acquainted with Lincoln and the Rio Bonito Valley.

If anyone has any errands they want to take up immediately, let me know and I can set up a thread for those undertakings.

Once the coach had settled back into its cruising speed, Albert went back to paying attention to the bullets from the ladies. With a bit of concentration and his sharp tool, Al finished his work with plenty of time to yap about nothing in particular during the remaineder of the ride.

22:05, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 7,1 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,1.  Hexslingin' (LFB, KK).

22:04, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 2,5 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5.  Hexslingin' (LFB, J-Lo).

Once finished, he returns the bullets to Jacinta and Kate. "These'll pack a little more punch'n normal. Use 'em well, ladies."

OOC: Each does an extra die of damage. Don't miss!

When the stagecoach finally rolls into town, Albert frowns at what he saw.

22:10, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 4,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1.  Notice.

Before the stagecoach came to a stop, Albert repeats his offer from earlier. "Any of you nice folk wanna quick tour of the town, I'm happy to oblige. Just gimme a minute ta unload my stuff, an we can be off."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:15, Wed 21 Feb 2018.

Jacinta squinted at the modified bullet that Albert had given her, but couldn't discern any difference from her other bullets except for his fancy scratchings.  Still, she gave him a nod of thanks and tucked it into her belt.  Once they reached Lincoln proper, she jumped down from the stage, boots hitting the muddy earth with a splash.  After slinging her rifle holster over her back, she waited on her turn to collect her pack.

She gave Ellis a nod as she slung her pack over her shoulder.  "Came to pick up my horse, but also looking for work.  You know anyone hereabouts that's hiring?  Seems a bit quiet from last time I was here."   She gave the quiet street another glance.



Notice: 16

00:38, Today: Jacinta Castillo rolled 16,5 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of (8+6)14,3.  Notice.

05:49, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 4,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,3.  Notice.

Kate grunted and slid the cartridge back into its loop.  Jacinta's question wasn't the first thing Kate wanted to know, but what she truly wanted to know wouldn't make any sense to ask as a question.  She'd be here a while, and eventually would be moving on, but it was necessary to procure the means to do so.

She sighed and looked down at the tooled leather of her holster.  It would come to that.  It always did.  There was always someone that needed to be shot, even if a lot of the people who were shot shouldn't have been.  What a sorry world.

04:31, Today: Tamsin River rolled 5,2 using d6,d6 ((5,2)). Notice,


"How is my Lydia doing?" Tamsin asks Ellis of her horse. "And Mister Cooper, I'll take a tour if there's something new in town to look at. Otherwise I'm just heading to the herbalist,

"Howdy, Ike." Jake waved to the man as he got down off the stage and headed to the back of it to get his things. First, he pulled off a large, much-patched dufflebag that rattled around as he dropped the Sonic Panic Cannon in it. Securing that, he regarded a wooden crate labeled TOOLS. "Reckon I'm going to need some help," He mutters. "This thing's too heavy to carry by my lonesome." he looked at Jacinta. "I can offer you a couple bucks to help me haul this thing to my shop. It ain't long-term, but it's enough fer a meal at least."

((OOC: 09:08, Today: Jake McGraw rolled 2,1 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1.  Notice.

I see nothin'.

Jake wants to get his equipment stowed away, as that's why he left town in the first place. Then he's going to want to check to see if anyone's been looking to hire him while he was away.))

Bryan seemed a bit distracted as they entered town, attempting to see what his first line of inquiry in town would be. He had been through Lincoln before, so a tour wasn't the first thing on his mind at the moment.

"Mr. Ellis, its been a bit since I been through these parts...could you recommend to me a good place to stay? A clean place, reasonably priced."

Today: Bryan Lee rolled 2,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max.  Notice.

As for his plans, he will head to secure a room and then go to Montano's store
This message was last edited by the player at 18:18, Wed 21 Feb 2018.

Garrett collected his pack, slinging it over one shoulder while propping his rifle on the other. ”I think I’m going to go find a drink, see what I can find out about the hunting west of here,” he said. Nodding to his fellow passengers, he added, ”Good to meet you all.”

With that, the tall man headed down the quiet street.

Ellis glanced out toward the street, then back at Castillo. “If you’re lookin’ for work, you might head over to the Assay Office. Mike Kibbee runs the newspaper, the Independent, out of the back of it. He moved his press there a couple months back when a fire took his old building. He’d know where you might scare up some employment. I know he mentioned there were some mustangers and a prospector looking for some help when I saw him a day or two back.”

“Mrs. McSween is looking for some help running the Tunstall Store. I think she’s in need of ranch hands too, if that’s to your taste. Judge Wilson deputized some of her help a few days back and left her without anyone to watch her stock.” He looked down at the ground, then back up at Castillo. ”Thing is, there’s been some pretty serious range disputes up here lately. The kind that get solved with iron, if you take my meaning. So you might give it some thought ‘fore you go to work out there.”

“You might also talk to Desiree Thornton over at the saloon across from the Courthouse. I think she was needing for someone to help tend bar over there. She might also know of other folks in the area offering work.”


Ellis grinned. ”She’s doing just fine, Miss River. A little feisty lately. Dutch has let her run the back pasture a time or two this week.” He gestures across the street. ”If you’re looking for Miss Winter, she’s over at the Montaño Store.”


”Glad to see back, Jake,” Ellis answered. ”There’s been a young fella come by your shop a couple of times this morning, looking for you. I’m thinking he might need something fixed.”


”Well, if you’re just in need of a room, I might could help you out.” Ellis gestured over his shoulder with one hand. ”My brother built a house on this property, then up and moved to Colorado about a year back. There’s three reasonable sized rooms in it and its got a wood burning stove. It’s simple, but it’s clean. And right now, there’s not a soul in it. If that sounds like it’d suit you, we can work out a fair price.”

He pointed across the street. ”Now, Ms. Montaño runs a boarding house next door to her store, the Patron House. Their rooms are comfortable and they’ll feed you over there. I sneak over there for breakfast sometimes, when I’m on Renata’s good side. I know she’s got a few unoccupied beds. She and her family treat their guests right.”

“Course, if you’ve got a little extra to spend, there’s always the Wortley Hotel, just down the street apiece.”

The rain gained a hint of strength, the whisper of the falling drops audible in the surrounding trees.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:14, Thu 22 Feb 2018.

Jake nods. "Know where that fella might be right now? I can check things out once I get these supplies squared away."

Albert nods at Jacinta's comment about how quiet it is. "A bit too quiet, if ya ask me." Not that she did.

The ranch hand smiled over at Tamsin. "New ta look at? Don't think so, Flower Power. Herbalist'll be tickled ta see ya, though."

He then nods at Patrick. "Hunter, if ya wanna get a drink, head ta the Thornton-Curry Saloon. Desiree Thornton treats folk well, and don't tolerate foolishness."

He then turns his attention over to Bryan. "If yer gonna be spendin' time with Missus Montaño, ya'd do well ta just get her talkin' 'bout the history of this place. Might hear somethin' useful, General."

Finally, Albert regards Ike. "Ike, what is goin' on with the school? Today a school holiday? Jefferson Davis' birthday or somesuch?"

"Much obliged t'ya, for the advice and the warning.  Reckon someone will have something that'll suit me."  She touched the brim of her hat to the livery owner and joined Jake.  "Happy to help with your crate, if you need it.  Would like to see this shop of yours.  You been open long?"

She glanced back at Albert at his mention of the school and frowned again as she looked down the road to the building.  "Pardon, but never seen a school chained up and locked simply on account of a holiday.  Usually it's overflow from the jail.  Or something or someone is trapped inside.   That lock ain't been on there long enough to rust."

Kate didn't have much stowed in the stage, but what she did have was important to her... "trade".  She reached in and pulled out a long slender rifle boot with the butt of the Winchester protruding from it.

"Problems that get solved with iron often call for a dealer in lead."  She placidly remarked as if articulating an inner thought carelessly.  Kate knew she'd wind up involved, it was all she knew.  But at least she'd try to suss out who was in the right first.  Talking to McSween was on her agenda, though she might make a little stop off first.  Kate, when she could help it, never went anywhere without a few dollars in her pocket to last a little while, otherwise you wound up siding with the first outfit that showed you the money and that was often a mistake.

"Thornton Curry eh?"  She remarked idly.  That was as good of a first stop as any.

Tamsin's eyes narrow, as they do when she's trying to figure something out.

"Well, that lock is something new."

Miss Winter would still be there when she got back.

"Off to the schoolhouse," she mutters. There is no one waiting on her (it's not like Lydia knows she's here), no one she needs to reassure as to why she's leaving- still, she remembers being scolded for wandering away without a word because she had to see what was going on, so it isn't even a thought to not quietly announce it.

”He said he was gonna get a cup of coffee, maybe something to eat over at Ramsey’s,” Ellis answered, ”That was maybe half an hour ago. I told him I expected you back this afternoon. He’s supposed to come back by after he’s done.”


”Appreciate that,” Garrett called back to Cooper as he left.

Ellis looked at the ground, shook his head. ”I”m not rightly sure, Albert,” he replied, ”Been quite a few years since my boys had to be in school. But...something happened there. Whatever it was, no one in town’s talking much about it. Not sure who put the lock on the place. It was there this morning when I was first up and about.”

“I know Miss Perez, the schoolteacher, she had a few of the young uns over at the San Juan Church around the middle of the morning. Looked like they might be holding class there, but I’m not sure why. I’ve kinda wondered if it had something to do with things being so quiet around here today. Whatever it is, no one’s talking about it. I asked Mike Kibbee about the schoolhouse when I saw him. He seemed to get real upset. But if he knew anything, he sure didn’t tell me.”

"Much obliged, Ike." Jake says.



"Not terribly." Jake replies. "Maybe three, four weeks now. Just gettin' settled in, honestly. Before I came here, I was a mechanic and engineer for Dixie Rails. Didn't care for the new management that bought it out." He picks up one end of the crate. "Still, fer as new as I am, I sure get plenty o' business. Seems everyone needs somethin' mended."

He didn't mention that some of the things he'd been fixing up had damage that didn't strike him as accidental. The folk that brought him things had been tight-lipped about the whole thing, and Jake didn't want to stir up any trouble spreading rumors. Still, he had to wonder. He hadn't noticed the new lock on the schoolhouse until it had been pointed out, but now that it had...he shook the thought away. Ain't much he could do about things, anyhow.

"Yes ma'am. And if yer still there when I'm done takin' care of...things, I'll buy ya a drink. Fer old times' sake." Al pulls his hat off his head then sets it back down, as a way of wishing Kate well until he saw her again.

His attention then returned to Ike. "Don't wanna bust inta the middle of class, but damnation, I'm curious. Mike Kibbee ya say? Hmph. Know where he's at, Ike?"

Albert then looked over at Earnest. "How 'bout that tour, Rev? I'll end with yer new chapel, an we can take a look at what kinda work it needs."

In reply to Marshal (msg # 147):

"Well, I appreciate you apprising me of my options, Mr. Ellis. I rather like the notion of bein' fed and I was fixin' to go over to the Montaño store in any case to do a little shoppin', so I might inquire with her, but I may follow up with you if that doesn't work out," he said, tipping his hat to the man.

Bryan quietly listened to the questions and answers about the schoolhouse, making a mental note to look into the matter out of curiosity. Oddities were often important to the Rangers, and helped foretell bigger problems to come.

"Been a pleasure ridin' with the rest of you fine folks. Maybe I'll find some o' y'all over at Thornton Curry today or afterwards. Mr. Murdock, let me know when you're goin' back out there. I'd like to come along for the ride." Making his polite farewells to the others, he headed across the street towards the Montaño store.

"Thank you, Mr. Cooper, it would be nice to stretch my legs and get some idea of the town.

"Ranger Lee, am I correct that you'll report our encounter to the local authorities?""

He gathers his baggage from the coach's boot, a portmanteau, a saddle and saddlebags, and a bedroll with a shotgun stuck through the center.

"Mr. Ellis, could you hold onto these things for me until I find some lodgings? Also, can you tell me where I might find Reverend Benton?"

He turns to the others, tipping his hat to Kate and Jacinta and Tamsin: "Thank you for your company and your protection, folks. I expect we'll see each other around town."

”Yessir,” Ellis answered with a nod. ”He was at the Assay Office this morning, setting type for this week’s paper. Should still be there, I reckon.”


Ellis took the luggage from Allgood with nod. ”Certainly, Reverend. I’ll keep it all behind the counter in the store, so I can keep an eye on it. You can come get it whenever you’re ready.”

He frowned. ”Well...about Reverend Benton. No one’s seen him around town for about a week. No one’s certain where he went off to. Some folks thought he might have travelled to Santa Fe, but he never told anyone he meant to leave, which is unlike him, truth be told.”

“I know some folks brought the whole thing up to Sheriff Brady, but if he’s looked into it, I haven’t heard.”

In reply to Marshal (msg # 158):

Allgood blinks at the news of Benton's disappearance.

"Thank you, I'll try to get my things out from underfoot as soon as possible.

"Was Reverend Benton staying at the parsonage? Has he a family? I don't know him, you see, I just had a letter of introduction."

Ellis shook his head. ”Best I know, Reverend Benton is a bachelor. He’s been staying at the parsonage. It’s just a little bit west of town. Nothing fancy, but a well built little house, way it looks.”

Allgood thanks Ellis.

"Mr. Cooper, I am prepared to tour Lincoln."

Albert smiled at the Reverend and gestured for them to start walking. Albert was a bit of a slow-walker, which made keeping up with him an easy task for Earnest. "Sure thing, Rev. Right this way!"

-->Tour is posted in the 1E - Lincoln's Main Street thread