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: “Undtranot’se innce o chustaal as ndeit siin ur any hasratder. U ce ur, li ntesonthe esta fi li diur. Ing veret, t illlatess sa onsaveinghou o adpric. I li as minc, ma wilioufor witeraast m.”]

Murdock considered the guard’s words for a moment, then nodded. [Language unknown: A ckanas st’ul simire, yinbuttra. U redch’e io as Korallich, lawas m stiencoer ca asto ca Hafope’te, one alhemo.”]

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: Sonstienc wilo’t yin. Ratti m ingticany. Ionanyate whe ntel'unst iont atilpo nolo'tebe.”]

”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.