April 9th, 1879. The stables outside the Grand Bull Saloon

The old man grunted as an errant shaft of light leaking through a knothole in the wall finally moved into his eyes.

"Consarn it." he mumbled as he turned over on his bed of hay. This only exposed the bald spot on the top of his head to the warm sunlight, warming it alarmingly. So it was with great reluctance that the old man rose and stumbled over to the bucket he kept for certain functions. "Too damn early to be so sunny." he muttered as he relieved himself.

He turned around and regarded the stall he'd appropriated as a home. He scratched his beard in disapproval...his hay was still damp from the leaks in the roof and the wall. The horses around him didn't seem too happy, either. Their whinnies had disturbed his slumber more than once.

Well, it wouldn't be like this forever. No, not since the discovery he'd made. Soon he'd be sleeping on feather beds and pissing in one of those automated water closets. And dining on something a damn sight better than cold bacon and whiskey.

He fingered the lump of coal he kept tucked away in a pocket just above his heart.

Yes, indeed. Soon, he'd have all that he'd ever been denied by those bastards at the Wendell Mining Company. Soon. But he had to go dig his find out of the ground first, so he hefted his pick, strapped his pack on, and began to make his way out of the stables into the bright morning.

Meanwhile, in the Grand Bull Saloon, dawn had found several others...

((OOC: And here...we...go!))

The clank worked its way up to the roof after being gently but firmly shut out of the law office and the priest's room, still dragging the corpse. At the first sign of daybreak it begins to...well, 'sing' is the only word for it, it's certainly a noise, and the notes individually might be called melodious, but the song is as innocent of tune or lyrics as birdsong, and sounds something like a brass band having a nervous breakdown. It'll happily carry on until the sun has cleared the horizon.

Curiously, all loose papers left in common areas of the saloon seem to have vanished overnight.

[[OOC: what would these be, if any?]]

John awoke with the dawn, a yawn and a stretch before sliding out of bed. He splashed a little water on his face from the wash basin and after drying it off with a towel he began to go through a variety of stretches. Once he was warmed up he did what training exercises he could manage in the small room focusing more on the the spiritual and physical workout than going through his fighting forms. There was much to do today so the mental exercises he went through before drifting off to sleep would have to suffice for the time being. Upon finishing he'd make his way down the stairs to get a bite of whatever they had for breakfast.