It's about this time that the Marshal, Evans, wanders into view, rubbing his forehead and muttering. He saunters up to the rapidly filling hole and takes stock of the situation.

"So this is what the Mayor was on about. Well, I can't say I'm very surprised to see you all here." He has the weary expression of one who has been woken earlier than the hour to which he is accustomed, and has already decided the day is going to be unpleasant.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:13, Sat 24 July 2010.

"Just seems the way of things Marshal." Charging Bear says as he glance over at Evans, "You missed the talk about the concept of ownership."

John chuckled and looked at the Marshal giving a shrug. "I'm not right sure myself Marshal, seems our tin angel is getting rid of that Union soldiers body in a manner that'll keep it from bein' posessed again." he said. At least that was what he was getting from the manner. "Needless t'say the mayor wasn't quite happy about that."

"Thanks. I rather got that impression already, since he just spent the last few minutes yelling at me about mechanical contraptions digging up his streets. Of course, I've suffered through his tirades before, and I expect I shall have to do so in the future. He can be ignored for now. What I could use is a good breakfast. i also would like to know if you folks are still interested in that deputy job we spoke about last night, now that the eve has passed, the sun is out, and I am unable to return to sleep."

The automaton switches to tamping down the soil for a bit, almost finished, and in straightening up notices the Marshal. "Howdy, Ambrose! A beautiful day for January!" it states, like it's heard about small talk somewhere but not quite grasped its application.

It does seem to have overheard a little of the previous talk, though, addressing John: "Is 'ghost rock' equivalent term for rock-that-wails? Is mineral now...known to many?"

The thing abruptly looks up, stops treading about on the filled-in hole, and positions itself at a very precise spot beside/before Evans.

Robert shrugges.  "Since the judge apparently didn't arrive, I am at loose ends.  I'll take the job."

John nodded to the automaton "Widely known? I suppose so, there's a whole mess of people minin' for it in California. Was a partner to one prospector m'self. Tryin' to find him actually, heard he passed through these parts." he said, the last part with a sigh. He looked at the Marshall and nodded "Well, I'm needin' work while I'm here and I'm here for a while at least."

Evans regards the clank with bewilderment. "I should think so, considering it's April." He takes a step back from Alouette, uncomfortable with it being quite so close.

"Well then!" he says to the others. "Let's get a move on. Can't stand out in the street all day, and I have quite the appetite. To the Grand Bull?"

"Plusplus Not Good..." there's the impression that if the clank knew how to be alarmed, it would be. "Present year equals 1879?"

To John: "Mortals should not consume...ghost rock. It is made of congealed Purgatory, Old Night and the lost souls of thousands on thousands of chickens...would corrupt mortals, create pain, confusion..." It pauses, ticks, then looks down at the nearly-flat grave.

Charging Bear just shakes his head, all of this talk definitely doesn't appear to be his thing. He turn and walks back to the Grand Bull.

John shrugged "I suppose you're right. California certainly isn't a more peaceful place because of it. People getting shot over claims, criminals running protection rackets, some go hoping to start a new life only to fall prey to those who just don't give a damn about their fellow man." he spat. "It was good money but, well, I'm actually kinda glad to be rid of it." he said as he followed the rest to the Grand Bull.

((Skipping ahead slightly))

After the group had sat down and all breakfasts were ordered, Evans spoke up.

"So, now that you fine folk are filled, I'm curious to know what you're up to investigating first. We need a plan of attack! A direction to follow! A Very Important Person to involve ourselves in the affairs of!"

He might have said more, but at that moment the door of the saloon slammed open, and a group of ruffians filed in.

The room went silent.

The leader of the group, an oily weasel of a man dressed in black, makes a grand, sweeping gesture. "Roland!" He shouts in a thick Cajun accent. "My boys are thirsty, Roland! Their bellies are rumblin'! 'ave you changed yo mind about servin' my friends, or are we going to have another incident like we done last week?"

The barkeep frowns. "I told you before, Nathaniel. You and the rest of your ilk are not welcome here. go crawl back under your rock."

"Oh, I'm very sorry to here that. Shall we vamoose, boys?" He asks.

There are some unfriendly sniggers from the roughnecks.

"Sounds like they don't want to go anywhere else. They like it here. It's a nice place, I admit. You want to keep it nice? Or are we gonna have another accident happen? You know, I'd hate to see another accident happen here..."

Robert stands up, clearing his throat.  Addressing the leader, "An accident you say?  You boys are in luck, if there are any accidents and compensation to be awarded thereof, I can take care of it, and any other legal matters as might arise, based on any limitations and standards in the local municiple codes."

15:19, Today: Robert Micklethwait rolled 7,5 using d8+4,d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1. Test of wills.
blah. unhappy dice

Being left to its own devices, the clank finishes levelling the road, occasionally pausing to explain itself to passers-by, the leading horses of the traffic it's starting to cause and the tobacconist's wooden indian.

When finished, it returns to the Grand Bull where it last saw the priest, arriving - plastered with mud but chirpy as ever - a little after the ruffians.
"Howdy, cattlehands!" It cranes to see Roland "Corpse appropriately relocated and re-sealed from demonic influences!"

The man in black and his half-dozen friends look at Robert, quite bewildered by his rapid-fire offer of legal services. This was not quite the sort of thing they were expecting, obviously.

Then Alouette blundered into the saloon, and the most quick-witted of the bunch shtarted shouting his fool head off! "What in tarnation is that!?"

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: 08:18, Today: The Stray rolled 1,8,4,5,2 using d6,d6,d6,d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+2)8,4,5,2. Dust Adders resisting ToW.

08:20, Today: Nathaniel Frost rolled 4,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2. Resisting ToW.

08:21, Today: Gus Shaw rolled 5,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2. Resisting ToW

Unhappy dice or not, you got most of em' flummoxed, including the two Wild Cards. You even have a raise against two of the Extras]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:28, Thu 11 Mar 2010.

Alouette checks 'that' is not standing behind it, oblivious to its talents as a great distraction. It straightens and points at itself: "Angel."
It then looks at what comes off on its extended digit "...plus mud."

Then, seeing they're not going to move out of its line of sight to Roland: "Where is priest?"

Charging Bear chuckles lightly to himself, as though the answer was obvious.

Having entered the place and overhearing the tail end of the 'discussion' John positions himself near the entrance and watches the Marshall closely trying to discern his reaction to the ruffians. When Alouette enters the former prospector can't help but smile slightly at the ruffians reaction.

The thugs don't seem to cotton on well to the tin-can angel's pronouncement. One of them pulls a gun, but the man in black wave him off. He looks arounf the room through narrow eyes...which settle on Evans, who is smiling.

"Well. This ain't no mystery now. This is all your doing, Evans, isn't it?"

"My doing?" Evans protests, with a mock innocent look on his face. "Why ever would you think that? I'm just a simple town marshal." He stands. One hand is resting on the holster. "That, there, is a work of art. A construction of such craft and elegance that frankly it makes me weep. And, of course, it is asking you a question. Where is the priest?"

"Priest? I know nothin' about any priest in these here parts. The way I heard it, the last priest in this town up and ran away." The man in black seemed to be calculating his options. What had started out as a simple shakedown had suddenly become very, very complicated, and he didn't like it when things were complicated.

His eyes dart out, settling on John Smith by the door and Charging Bear sitting at the table with Evans. He seemed to have dismissed Robert as a distraction.

"So. Are these your boys here?" He said, pointing to Charging Bear and John. He gives Charging Bear an especially venom-filled look, one that said I haven't forgotten last night, Indian.

"Oh, they are just some strangers who came into town, and expressed some civic concern. I was in the process of offering them a job when you burst in here."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is indeed. And I was also consulting with Mr. Micklethwait here about certain legal options open to us. Mr. Micklethwait, would you kindly inform me of the necessary criteria for the issuance of a Restraining Order?"

"Why of course.  Persuant to state and territorial legal codes, section 4.598 section 3, to obtain a writ of restraint one must simply demonstrate to competent legal autoritiy that the party of the first part poses a threat to the party of the second part."

Evans grins. "I see. Thank you. Now, answer me this: in your legal opinion, would the eye witness testimony of..." he does a quick headcount of the bar, "twelve people and one automaton, including three employees and the duly-elected marshal of the town, stating that seven armed men who, upon entering the establishment, did proceed to ignore the proprietor's refusal to serve them, and further intimated that an undefined 'accident' might occur at said establishment if they were not served, constitute sufficient demonstration that the party of the first part poses a threat to the party of the second part?"

"Naturally." Roberts grins as well.  He was starting to like this marshal

Worked hard to appear nondescript as he leaned against the wall next to the door. He had to work even harder to suppress a smirk. The men didn't seem too bright but they didn't seem to be dumb as dirt either in regards to starting something here and now. He held no illusions they wouldn't be trouble later.

Alouette stands with head tilted a little, eerily still, only interjecting "-angel," when referred to. It's certainly listening very carefully to the goings-on.

The man in black seems to know when he's been outmaneuvered.

"Well, then. I suppose we don't want no unpleasantness. I think we'll find another place to get a drink. Let's go, boys." He glares at Evan. "But this ain't over, sir. File your 'Order of Restraint' If you must. It won't make a speck of difference in the end."

He and his thugs file out.