Midday, April 11th, 1879. Ward's Ranch. Good Friday.

Some mood music

((Carl, Gangatsu, John Smith, Augustus Spotswood (if he wants to jump in)))

The next couple of hours are spent in haste. Augustus' things are gathered, and a small buggy is readied to take him to this "hiding spot" Ward mentioned.

Ward himself spends the morning bawling out Dave, the Dust Adder everyone pointed to as behind the little mutiny that attempted to kill the bounty hunter.

Carl and Mike arrive back at the ranch, only to hear that Gus is trying to round up all the Dust Adders to have a talk in the bunkhouse.

Meanwhile, Dr. Ward invites Gangatsu and John Smith into his study upstairs. He pours himself a drink from a decanter of brandy, and offers some to the pair before getting down to business.

"So." he starts. "It seems that a storm is coming, but we have some time before it arrives. Please, feel free to ask any questions you may have. Though be aware that I will not tolerate any disrespect." he says this last with a pointed look at Gangatsu. "Now. What was it that you wanted to discuss?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:26, Wed 01 June 2011.

Carl turns Hoss into the corral, squints at the sky and gambles a little leaving her tack on the rail. Shotgun idly shouldered - though there's a message in that - he consciously shakes off the nagging feeling that he's forgotten something (Jesse again, not there), glances over to see what Mike's at and wanders to the bunkhouse.

He comes in the back, because it's closer. Wants to cough, doesn't. Has a good look at who all's in there.

John sits silently, he certainly hadn't expected to spend so much time here at the ranch but with his master still laid up he saw little choice in the matter. Though he was finding that, whatever the 'good' Doctors motivations he seemed to have a sort of code of honor he stuck to, John admired that. Having no questions at the moment he waited expectantly for Gangatsu to speak first as she was addressed first.

In reply to Carl (msg #2):

It seems like Gus has managed to gather the day shift and a goodly portion of the night shift together already. He has Dave firmly planted next to him...the man glowers at the crowd.

In the crowd are Mike, Jethro, Ned, Jack, Percy, Big Tom, Little Tom, Frank, Todd, Max, all three Johns, Slim, Al, Heavy Henry, Black Jeb, Tiny, Nick (also black), Felix, Don, Dishonest Abe (only ever called that because he has the misfortune to be white and named Abraham in the Confederacy), Elliot, both Eds (Edgar and Edward), and Joe That Spanish Prick (crouched low and away from Gus). Even Tex is there, looming in the background.

There are conspicuous spaces where Nathanial, Bill, Jesse, Charlie, and Luke should have been.

With Carl arriving, that makes 30 people crammed into the bunkhouse. Just under ten percent of Blackthorn's population.

Gus nods to Carl. "Glad you made it."

He turns his attention to the assembled once Carl has found a seat.

"Boys," he begins, "We got some problems we gotta take care of."

He launches in a rambling summary of the last few days, beginning with the escape of those damn Yankee bushwhackers to the arrival of several strangers made deputies by the Marshal, the ill-advised attack on the new deputies by some of the gang, the arrival of a goddamned Texas Ranger, the shootout at the funeral home, the near riot over the no-good rapin' Indian (Joe shrinks even further into the corner at this), the shaving of Katy Devon and the bar fight where a deputy was killed (this time Little Tom looks uncomfortable, though no names are mentioned), the Comanche attack, the undead mountain lion, and finally the scuffle with a fucking bounty hunter sniffing around where he shouldn't oughta.

"That's about the size o' it." He finishes. "The question now is...what are we all gonna do about it?"

Carl looks at Gus a moment, then returns his nod with a touch of hatbrim not quite as formal as to Ward but indicating some respect nonetheless. He settles up on his bunk to hear Gus out, setting down hat and gun and searching out his other shirt whilst Gus talks. There's something denser to the pain in his ribcage now, as though the rat clawing and biting at his innards went heavy with young.

He's still by the time Gus finishes, perched and attentive with one bootheel hooked on the edge of his bunk. Clears his throat (doesn't wince, barely, a taste of salt, copper) as quiet falls and gestures hat and badge, jabs a finger at his chest, nods to Jesse's empty patch, makes fierce eye contact with any that might argue.
"..."

Carl glances to Mike then around, points at the ground with a slight jerk of the head towards the house and holds up two fingers. Pushes his hair back and looks at Gus, expression flat and serious. "..."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Sun 05 June 2011.

Gus nods. "Speak your piece, then, Carl."

A dog is jes' a wolf pretendin' to be your friend. His father's words, teaching him how to deal with farm dogs. Wolves see two kinds o' critter in the walkin' world: things like bigger wolves an' things they can eat. You got to think yourself big. Carl feels the attention on him and glances around. "..."

I am the biggest damn wolf in the world, he thinks, keeping his mind clear to convey what has to be said, and how. The gestures are swift, precise, feature the snake-sign often, ranch, town, Ranger, things rising up. He moves down and to the centre of the group as he "talks" like he has a right to. A gamble. The earth shakes under my paws, my shoulders brush the sky; fear these fangs.

"..."

Some of it sounds wild, but he's thought it all through, since last night and after what he said to Mike. Carl reaches for power for the good of the gang, daring. Hoping the spell of postured size and ferocity won't break and leave him just 5'7" of drunkard's son in the only state with a 5'10" average.

[[Translation: (sorry for the wall o' text, guys)
This is gonna be sacrilege - consider it my privilege as an un-Confirmed heathen - but I started thinkin’ after what I said to y’all [indicating Ned, Jack & Big Tom] last night. Ranger reckoned someone/thing was playing Ward like a fiddle to make this mess - I set her onto the Masons, keep her busy…an’ the Snake tried to silence me. That was why I came in pale, marked.

…and it’s got Nate. Used him as a distraction - figure it thought the Ranger’d buy a vengeful ghost turnin’ up co-inci-dentally pretty easy, maybe she did, but I knew him too well. Over in the valley he said he’d made a deal, wouldn’t die - wearin’ a black hat to a duel or anyhow. Turned on him like the Devil but it weren’t the Devil he made pact with - said “like Gus” - he made a pact with the Snake. Only it chose Ward over him an’ now his soul’s forfeit.

[claps to retain attention over murmuring that causes] Now to the point. The point - we all been thinking about the thing all wrong. It ain’t a science-power source, an’ it ain’t just some hocus-pocus spirit, deal and have done. It’s a fucking heathen god.

[time for the concept to start sinking in, but holding control]

That’s why it’s playing Ward, an’ how: he don’t see it, thinks it’s all accident. Energies. I think it let the bluecoats get sick, took all the healing in the cattle away ‘cept what “fixed” them to turn walker…an’ it wanted to give that to Ward to play with, like “see, it only affects people with Northern blood”…Ward’d see it as a bonus to healt cattle an’ sell ‘em on anyway, keep tryin’ to improve the method. Only the Yanks turned too soon, escaped, an’ Luke got kilt an’ came up (news to some of y’all) since somethin’ sparked him off, too - nearest theory we got is Rock dust, they all had recent exposure an’ Jethro’s cat was maybe in some cave ’round those parts. So it’s proved it ain’t really just Yankees, but anyone.

Why does it want deadders? If it’s a god of Injuns I see it goes like this - kill off everyone who (eats beef but) don’t bow-hunt buffalo, let them all turn walker an’ eat city folk…won’t be no cavalry left to save settlements like us from them. If it’s a god of snakes then, well, deadders got all the rat/bug-feeding of a corpse, make more corpses, don’t hunt snakes - win-win.

Ranger got to talk Ward out of this before he finds a way to make the energy what does the cattle-healin’ pass on without takin’ every beef to the circle each by each.

We want the Ranger to talk: distraction. Ward’ll stop an’ Snake’ll focus its attention on wheedlin’ him, not on us dumbass cowboys what don‘t know nothin’. We can contain this, maybe even turn it to our advantage, but only if we stick together, each for all. [glance at Dave] Even if Snake is here now [nods to Shaws] an’ any part o’ what I’m guessin’ is right, I’m no-one; it won’t get what I’m telling y’all.

[hasty point at Gus, who may be about to go off] You’re gon’ ask why an Injun/snake god lent y’all help - Ward ain’t gonna hire no heathen native, you’re pretty much all th’ opposite an’ right there to sell the Snake to him - a perfect bluff. [hard look, chancing it but if he can be heard out…] It ain’t interested in your bloodline or it woulda saved your mother. It played you, like Ward. Wanted y’all in Blackthorn.
[to everyone] We’re ahead of it. We took this land from the Injuns - god or demon, our God is stronger, we are stronger, we will fight, not run, and we will survive as Blackthorn has survived all the other hell we seen. Jes’ got to find out why Blackthorn to stop it happenin’ again.

Talk to old folks, injun-traders - whatever’s easy - find out what the hell we’re sat on an’ how to dig it out. Don’t panic, don’t talk too much. We got time an’ we will beat this to the ground. I got ideas.]]

While Gangatsu sits around collecting her thoughts, Abraham limps in. He has one arm in a sling.

Ward goes over to him, concerned. "Abraham, You should be resting."

"I know, sir." The man says. "But I have some news that couldn't wait." He looks at John. "The old man is awake, and he's asking for you."

In reply to Carl (msg #7):

Gus stares at Carl, teeth clenched. He turns a deep, deep red, and his hand grips the pistol on his belt. A rattle fills the air.

"That's a bold theory you got there," he growls. "What I wanna know is--and I want to hear you say this to my face, Carl--What I wanna know is are you callin' me an' Tex some kinda spies fer this thing?"

Carl shifts his weight a little in turning to face Gus properly, automatically bracing for any wayward blow. It's mildly amazing that he finds no nervousness in his resolve, but then he's dead - there's not much more Gus can do to him.

He meets the big man's eyes, makes a gathering gesture, points far down, up, touches an ear, traces the coils of a snake. "..."

Carl gives a very slight frown, indicates 'snake' again, something small, thrown away, points to Gus' chest, then looks at him, quiet and serious. "?"

At his words and the pointed look, Gatsu was starting in on a minor scowl and radiated a bit of dire fury for the man, but it was subsided as she took a glance at John. That bastard could stay so cool and collected.  He reached inner peace so easily and never wished to accost others... Unfortunately she wished she was a little more calm like him, like Zang, like- Kahn.. She took in a breath and was trying to bring down the sethering inferno she seemed to have after the death of her husband. She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked to the man with a bit more calm.

" Doctor Ward.." She started and- it was her last as Abraham entered with a limp. He spoke about some old man being awake. There was no given name. " What old man?" She looked pointedly to Doctor Ward for a moment and then her eyes widen a bit as she shot a look to the servent. Gangatsu leapt to her sandals with a concerned flair, her coolie falling off her jet black hair with the motion. " You mean Master Zang?"

John bolted upright and made to head out the door before he remembered himself. In this society, with particular people, manners were at the least, appreciated. He was fairly certain Dr. Ward was one of those people. He'd turn and face the doctor nodding his head "If you'll excuse me sir." he said and then to Gangatsu he said "I believe he does indeed." once it seemed polite to do so he would follow Abraham to his Master, assisting him if he looked like he needed it.

John bolted up with her and looked to her to confirm it. Honestly she never thought of Master Zhang as being 'old' unless she was scolding his perverse antics. For a moment she seemed uncertain if she should follow John and hear what the old man has to say and then she looked to Ward for a moment and the woman was at a crossroads. A rare occasion.

" Tell him I'm here, John. Be d'here when I can.." And With that, she moved to the door as he headed out and closed it behind the Butler and John.  Standing there for a moment, she had a sinking feeling but brushed it off and decided to return to a spot infront of Ward's Desk.

" Ya offered ta hide Augustus in that ol mining cove. There's a beast down there made from the flesh and bone of all that died there. But it dun't attack any of your dead fellas. It might not be yer fault directly, I'll admit I was startin ta see dat all now.. But the Snake, it's been growing due to fools feedin' it dominion over there lives, dealing with it fer power. It's here, only as a shadow o itself, 'cus someone put a crack in it's seal. The how is.. Unknown... The beast, once sleepin, is now dreamin.. If things keep going, there's gunna be hell ta pay if it wakes up. I aim ta make damn sure it won't rise.."  She pulled up her sheathed katana, leaning her hip on the heavy desk as she looked at it for a moment in favor. The thought of killing the doctor had crossed her mind, but what stayed her hand was the thought that she could be wrong.

" So.. I do need yer help. " She spoke a touch forcibly. " Your touched by it too, ain't you? I know ya are. Ya do it to sway people, to make them listen, tell da truth, calm down.. To a shrewd bussinessman like yerself, so I hear, dat's a powerful fukin asset..." She spoke with a comtemplative curiousity and naturally unapologetic as green eyes looked upon him and nodded slightly. " Would you Kindly.. Nice touch. Reckon dat be a good phrase, properly spoken and that strange.. Tingling dip that occurs.. Handl'd dat bounty hunter rather well.. Or should I say it was that silver amulet in your pocket."  She leaned down on the desk with one hand on the desk and the other kept her sword perpared at her hip.

" Wa'did'ja pay ta get dat amulet?.. I'm curious.."

Abraham leads John upstairs to the guest room, where the old master is laying in bed. He raises his head to look at his visitors, and gives them a small smile.

"Ah." He says in Chinese. "It is so good to see you again, here in the hour of my death."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Mon 13 June 2011.

In reply to Gangatsu (msg #13):

Ward listens to her, and smiles faintly. "An interesting number of deductions you have made there, Miss Gangatsu. You are wrong in a number of particulars, but I can see that you have a keen grasp of some concepts. Allow me to enlighten you further."

"The amulet is simply a focus. It has no intrinsic properties. It is a useful tool, the way a hammer is useful to a carpenter. This particular piece was granted to me when I attained the rank of Malviosin in the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon. In one regard, you could say I paid nothing for it. In another, you could say I paid several years doing good works and learning the mysteries the Society teaches.

"I understand your concern for Augustus' safety. I share it. I'm not sending Augustus out to the part of the mine the bone fiend was spotted. There's a small shack inside the mine the foreman used as an office...he should be safe there without any need for him to venture deeper."

"As for the Serpent, believe me when I say that I have no intention of seeing it loosed on the world. It has dark designs that I have no intention of furthering. The crack you mentioned was caused by the Wendell Mining Company's recklessness. Once I'm finished drawing what I need from the serpent, I have the means to renew the seal, so there is no need to worry."

" De seal's really down d'here... Dat's why it was so strong.. So clear.." She murmurs, her eyes drifting off and one can almost see her face change as she relived a moment of time. " He can't be dhere..." After a moment, she looked to the Doctor and her eyes were starting to get a touch puffy as if she was going to cry. She was there, he told her, he showed her where it was and she didn't even see it. All she did was focus on her beloved Kahn.

" It won't be that easy... It's an old trickster, a god, ya can't expect you'll merely betray it. What are you thinking, What.. What could you.." She was at a loss for a moment before firming up. " You need to stop this now. There is nothing from it you need. Everyone looks to you as some savior to their ghostly little town,  you can't allow this to go on. You were there when the bird spoke from that tin can automan, if you think it can save us there's a good damn chance your wrong. We need to speak to the indians and be prepared for this."

John blinked, almost as though he didn't quite understand what Master Zhang was saying. "You... you're Dying?" he said shocked, he knew he had been drugged but had held out hope that he'd yet live. A thought snapped into his head as he slipped into Chinese "Gangatsu is here, she told me to tell you, I didn't know you knew her but she should be here as well shouldn't she?" he said as his mind raced, there were so many questions, so many things he still needed to learn from his Master he knew time was precious and he had to make the most of it in some fashion.

In reply to Gangatsu (msg #16):

Ward lets out a short, sharp laugh. "You are referring to the same Indians who, just last night, attempted to murder us, yes? They are not our allies. they are a problem that needs to be dealt with."

He shakes his head. "It's because this town is dying that I must continue with my plans. I've used its power to help keep my herd safe from the many diseases that are ravaging cattle herds throughout Texas. If I stop before the herd is ready to be driven to the railheads, there is a chance that the diseases we've been keeping at bay will return and decimate the stock. That would be the death knell for Blackthorn...that herd is the only thing that brings income into this area. Once I have the profits from selling the stock, I can use them to reopen the mine, which would revive the town's economy and allow it to be self-sufficient again."

"You have to understand that the true wealth of Blackthorn lies in that mine. There's still silver there, and we've discovered Ghost Rock as well. And yes, the Serpent is down there as well. If I am to reopen the mine, the Serpent will have to be dealt with. By drawing on its power, I can weaken it to the point where destroying it is a real possibility. Sealing it back up and just trying to ignore the mine will not solve the town's problems."

In reply to Carl (msg #10):

Gus frowns, and his frown gets deeper and deeper as he thinks on Carl's insinuation.

"Hell. Never thought of it like that." he admits. "Fine. What should we do about it, then, assuming it can listen in?"

"Seems to me," Dave says, uncurling from his position, "That you oughta be taken out of the picture entirely."

The rattle sound kicks up again. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me, Gus." Dave growls. "You're the one who always crowed about making a deal with some kinda demon. Well, now we gotta deal with that demon, and it seems to me it's got you and your freak brother on its side already. I say it's time you got what's comin' to you for goin' against Jesus in the first place."

There's some dark muttering among the Dust Adders. Some of them seem to be agreeing with Dave...

In reply to John Smith (msg #17):

"Of course I am." Zhang replies. "I was beaten, drugged, and buried. There is no rescue coming for me. My mind has slipped into madness to spare me the horrors of my slow death." He smiles. "Yes...Gangatsu. I would like to see her again. It is only proper that she be here in this delirium as well. I wonder who else will appear to me."

Carl touches the side of his hand to his lip and gestures down. "..." Then he's interrupted by Dave. Carl's skin prickles, over the back of his neck and down, a kind of hollow fear. Who knew how many dead if the Snake worked out they were on to it?

The most observant might notice a certain stillness gathered in Carl at that moment, before he snorts and indicates a priest's collar, nodding back towards the town and fractionally upward.
"..." Carl taps his chest, stepping towards Dave a bit and letting his hand hang in the air a moment before raising it some and biting at the knuckle, flicking out his fingers in a gesture of bigger things. There's no warning.

It's as hard to catch the moment the decision was made as the instant freezing water becomes ice. The next step carries Carl inside Dave's guard and is accompanied by a sharp blow under the arc of the ribs.

[[fightin' 12, red chippit.]]

[[ouchfulness: 5 + 8 + 4 = 17. Init. KC.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:21, Sat 18 June 2011.

John blinked, a glimmer of hope, his master was delirious, perhaps he wasn't dying. He looked to see if Abraham was still around if he was "Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to tell Gangatsu that Zhang would like to see her as well?" he asked. If it seemed too much trouble for the wounded man he'd go himself. He hoped he was right, that his master was fine and did not realize he had indeed been rescued and thus thought this all an illusion inspired by madness and poison.

" Ya honestly believe dat's it?" She spoke at last, with a furrow of her brow. " Ya t'ink o' foolin a demon wid ease?.." She looked off for a moment and gave a glance to the door that John had left through.

" Look. We were on de indians land, so dey chased us. Just like your Adder gang playin harsh on the town like dey entitled ta it, I'm sure da Indians got their wily lads too. Only bad dat ol Master Xhang got roughed up, but it's simple as dat. But.. 'll be working on a backup incase your idea ain't fruitful..." Picking up her coolie and her katana. " That is, if ya dun't mind me, John and a few associates, walking through yer lands for a while longer. Won't bother ya none, just the easiest way through.."

Shifting he shoulder a little, glancing off to to the door again. " And then.. I may have ta pardon myself ta talk to Xhang.. If ya don't mind.."

In reply to Carl (msg #21):

((OOC: Round 1, FIGHT!

Dave doesn't seem to react to the blow, aside from a grunt. He turns towards Carl, murder in his eyes, and takes a step forward...

...only to fall flat on his face, gasping for breath. He hits with the floorboards with a dull *THUD*.

((OOC: Carl Allens WINS! Flawless Victory!))
This message was last edited by the player at 06:16, Mon 04 July 2011.

"Not with ease." Ward sighs. "But beleive me when I say that I've made a more thorough study of the creature than you have. I have some measure of its foibles and weaknesses discerned. If you feel you must set up a 'backup plan,' then I won't attempt to stop you, but mind that you don't inadvertently make the situation worse."

---

The servant nods, turns, and heads out the door...only to find Gangatsu on her way up.

"Well. Excellent. My old bones could get used to having all this stuff done for me." he says with a wry smile. "Your friend is asking for you. Seems to be a bit addled from his ordeal, though...keeps thinkin' he's about to die and all of this is some kind of illusion. Go on in. Try to convince him he's as safe as can be. Mister Ward won't let anything happen to those under his protection if he can possibly prevent it."

Carl steps back, looks for a moment at Gus with a flat grey gaze of warning and moves forward again. One boot pins Dave's left hand where it lies, the other acts as a pivot for the knee pressed into the downed man's back. Carl reaches behind him and draws his knife.

There follow a few moments of exceptional violence.


This message was last edited by the GM at 20:58, Mon 04 July 2011.

On her way down stairs, she looks to Abraham for a moment and then to the door with a slight cant of her head. The news that her master thought he was dying was a bit... Well, a hard emotion to place. The click clack of wooden sandals  against the plank floors, her hand grabed the knob and let herself in. John was there, by Master Zhang's side and the old man looked at her as she closed the door.

" I was told your feeling deathly ill, Master Zhang. You serious think your going to die in a comfy bed in some mad man's house? " Proper and formal in her chinese, but still all the more harsh with suspicion. " Cut the crap, you only need rest. Now what do you want? Found out anything about snakes and spirits or the ghost rock?"

Carl straightens up and cleans his knife against his sleeve. The room is quiet, save for the sounds of eager gurgitation from one of the dogs, over in the corner. Carl shifts in front of Dave, bends and yanks the man's head up to meet his stare, gesturing to his chest, then to Dave with the blade. "..."

Carl jerks his head at Tex, then lets Dave go and gestures that Gus should lend the man a kerchief/help him out, miming a sweep of a scythe to the others. Anyone asks why Dave Baines has one less finger than he ought to have: "agricultural accident."

The bunkhouse’s attention safely refocused on what’s important, Carl addresses their current problems: they’ll take the cattle to the railhead as usual, get surety for them and then have one of the coloured boys insist they’re witched, everyone refusing to move them on until they’ve been exorcised - that much Christian blessing’s sure to drive out the Snake’s power. Arrangements can be made with the priest here to be sure the Snake doesn’t turn on the populace when it finds it’s been tricked.
“...”
The Ranger had set a notice to bring the army down and kill Blackthorn if she vanished, and she was going to bring the injun to the ranch, which made things simple: if she was up to duelling Carl would kill her, scalp her - don’t look at him like that, she’ll have eaten Blackthorn meat by now, he’ll have to mess with the corpse anyway or she might turn walker - and they could have the redskin “escape” to his kin on the hills, scalp in his saddlebag. They’d set the army on the Comanche - Ranger had said the pass-word in front of him, they could telegraph - they’d wipe out the injuns, find the scalp and be satisfied: problems solved.
“...”
The bounty hunter could be set to fetch the assassins, the shaved girl kept out of his sight at the ranch if need be, then Carl’d lure him out and they’d take him for trespass, nab his gains. They’d go be real polite to the Mayor’s wife and kids when the Mayor was away, leave him some coyote ears and a nice request not to call in hunters over their heads: said wife would be chattering on about how nice they all were and the Mayor would be real glad they weren’t offended. Grateful, even. He’d rein in whichever Mason paid the assassins and give them leeway so they stayed nice. Now Evans had lit out and Bill had a badge the law wouldn’t give them hassle. Everything’d work out.
“...”


[[summarise summarise summarise...he'll hear any questions/objections out, then try and fix the fact he's phenomenally dehydrated and head off to fetch folk in town. You can adjust timing for all that as you need to.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 08:53, Sat 03 Sept 2011.

Between the pair of John's comforting and Gangatsu's bluntness, Zhang seems to recover a bit. He begins to speak his tale.

"Know that I did not wish to leave you without guidance, my student." he says to John. "I was making inquiries into your past, the better to help you regain some of what you had lost, if you wished to pursue it. When I went into town that day, however, I found that part of that past had caught up with you already. An individual named Tao Jing contacted me, claiming he had news of you. When I went to speak with him, the coward ambushed me, and attempted to inflict indignities on me in order to learn your whereabouts. I gathered that this man bore quite a grudge against the person you used to be. However, I gave him a small lesson in the folly of disresepecting one's elders." A small smile, before he returns to his story.

"After he was properly chastised, I decided that it would be efficacious to lead him astray. I could not chance a message to you directly, as it had been my own questions that had brought this foul man near in the first place. I decided it would be best to leave at once, and then send a message to you when I could be sure no one who knew of your past and also bore you grudges would chance upon it. This would also allow me an opportunity to pursue another matter I had some interest in...the Ghost Rock."

"I regret not telling you this sooner, my student, but my interest in the Rock That Wails is not wholly financial. While the small amount of mining we have done has provided us with the income to meet our needs, it has also allowed me to examine the stone closely and divine its secrets. There is a fell energy about it. When it is burned, this energy is released, which is what provides it with it's fantastic properties. But it also draws evil spirits toward it, spirits which feed on misery and fear. These spirits cause all manner of misfortunes, from small and petty inconveniences to grievous injury. I have heard these spirits referred to by the natives of this land as "manitou". It is these manitou that caused the dead to rise near Shan Fran, an uprising that killed a dear friend of mine." He looks at Gangatsu as he mentions this, then continues. "When I found myself with a need to travel, I resolved to see how deeply the Ghost Rock was connected to these spirits. The easiest way to do this was to follow the railroads that were stretching their way towards the City of Lost Angels. I made my way to Tombstone, the railhead of the Bayou Vermillion company, which had many fell rumors regarding the undead surrounding it."

"By chance, I encountered a man selling elixirs who had a tale of an uprising similar to the one in Shan Fran. He and his partner had come to a small town in Texas to peddle their wares when the denizens of the local graveyard came to life and assaulted the townsfolk. The undead were dispatched, but the man had no stomach for remaining in the town. He told me his partner, a man named Evans, had elected to stay behind and monitor the situation, and that I should seek him out if I had further questions. I resolved to do this, and I chanced a message to you, to ask you to join me."

He sighs. "However, the message must have been intercepted, for though I waited several days you didn't arrive. Instead, I was accosted by Tao Jing again. He had apparently not learned from our last encounter, for he again attempted to force your location from my lips. I administered yet another lesson to him, in the small hope that he might gain wisdom, but...no. I get ahead of myself. It was after this that I boarded a train to travel to this town."

"When I arrived here, I found that I had been preceded by Tao Jing. I do not know how he managed to arrive in town ahead of me, but apparently he had caused quite a nuisance of himself. It was then that I knew that Jing needed to be dealt with once and for all if we were ever to know peace. I paused only to send two messages--one to you, and one to Miss Gangatsu here, whom I had promised information. Since you are both here, it seems that both missives were received, which pleases me. With that task accomplished, I traveled into the surrounding hills to find Tao Jing and put an end to his dishonorable ways."

"I had heard of a small band of Comanche nearby, and I had hoped to find allies among them, or at least assistance in locating my quarry. But these natives were not in the least bit interested in polite discussion. They regarded me as an enemy, sent by the townsfolk to spy on their preparations, despite my protests to the contrary. I regret that I do not know their language well enough to converse with them in their own tongue...I'm certain my negotiations with them would have been more successful if I had not been using the tongue of their enemies. They attacked me, and held me captive for several days while they discussed my eventual fate. They buried me in the creekbed, to die of exposure and dehydration, and it is only by the grace of heaven that you discovered me in time to save me."

John Smith listened silently, a look of mild surprise on his face as he listened to everything his master had to tell him. He was more surprised at the amount of words flowing from the old mans lips than the content. He had always suspected his past wasn't a particularly pleasant one and now he had a foe and a name "Tao Jing" he said as though testing it. "I'm actually kind of working for Evans believe it or not." he said with a small smile. "It's been... interesting. What would you have me do? I think this Tao Jing won't stop unless he confronts me personally and I'm not inclined to deny him."

"That is good...we should contact him and inform him of the dangers the Comanches pose. I had ample opportunity to observe them during my captivity, and I believe they mean the town ill. Their leader has been contacting a powerful serpent made of smoke and fire, calling it forth from the flames and speaking to it at length. I do not know what words they have exchanged, but the presence of the fire-serpent disturbed my meditations."

Since John had seen Zhang meditating in some of the storms that whip through the maze without interruption, this is news.

As John mentions hunting down Tao Jing for a confrontation, Zhang frowns, then looks intently at John. "A young monk was charged with tending the cookfires of his monastery when he became bothered by a small gadfly. He attempted to wave the gadfly away, but it persisted in buzzing around him. He resolved to chase the fly away, so he searched high and low for a parchment. He found a scroll, then swatted the gadfly, and smiled in triumph. he returned to the cookfire to find that, in his absence, it had spread and now the whole monastery itself was ablaze."

This was something Zhang did frequently...told parables and let John try to puzzle out just what he meant.

In reply to Carl (msg #28):

Carl goes about his business, finding some water to try and kill the throbbing headache his drinking after setting his plans, such as they were, in motion.

He was sipping his cool drink and trying hard not to picture his brains leaking through his ears from the ghostly gunshot when Mike trundled up.

"Boss just got done treating Dave," he says tersely. "Now he's asking to see you in his study. Right now."

Carl scrubs a hand down his face and nods to Mike. At least he'd managed to change his blood- and mudstained shirt and get all the coughing over with in private, muffled in the outhouse. Drinking hurt like swallowing knives, left him dizzy and leaning on the bunkhouse wall, but at least that meant the raw red stuff that had come up all across his palm was probably from his throat rather than his lungs.

Carl takes one deep breath in through his nose and walks into the house, hat and coat left by the waterbutt. His approach and appearance in the study has something of the penitent to it, or the slink of a dog that knows it's done something fit to get whipped for, but he's not afraid or going to start in with excuses.

Explanations, maybe, later. For all the low-tailed look he will still meet Ward's eyes.

Ward's octagonal library was comfortably well-appointed, with three plush, velvet-lined hardwood chairs around an ornately carved table, also octagonal. Shelves bursting with ponderous tomes crowded around Carl as he stepped closer, burdened by the words they contained.

Ward sits with his fingers steepled, his attention focused on a silver bowl filled with water. He nods as Carl enters the room.

"Ah. Mr. Allens. Please, have a seat."

He waits for the man to do so before continuing.

"You are no doubt aware of the unfortunate accident that has befallen David Baines, I assume. Terrible business." he says. "Though terrible as it was, as I was tending to him I noticed several irregularities. Along with these irregularities, Mr. Baines himself intimated none-too-subtly that his misfortune may not have been quite so accidental, and that you may have been involved."

He gives Carl a hard stare, letting his words sink in, before he continues.

"I know that you are not given to long speeches. I, too, will be brief. I know that you and the other men have had several severe and troubling shocks. I am mindful that several close friends of yours have passed on, and that you may not have had time to properly mourn them. I have seen what grief can do if unaired. It festers, turns toxic, becomes consumptive. Sometimes that bile turns inward, corroding the soul and turning fine men bitter and angry. Sometimes it is turned outward, like a rabid dog snapping at anything that moves until it is put out of it's misery."

"I would not like to see the men turning on each other in this, our most vulnerable hour. Effective immediately, I am reliving you of your duties for the next three weeks. Think of this as a short vacation, to rest and reflect, to mourn and to heal. And worry not about financial matters...I will provide you with funds equivalent to the pay you would have received during the weeks you are absent."

John furrows his brow in thought. He may not have been much for book learnin' but he took to these parables surprisingly well if reacting to them in a somewhat... blunt manner. "Well, then I'll keep tending the cook fire but if the gadfly returns I won't hesitate to swat it if I can." he said. He'd do what he had promised and wouldn't go looking for Tao Jing, but if the man returned he wouldn't hesitate to teach him a lesson as his master had.

Carl perches on the edge of a chair and shrugs slightly, not about to tell the boss anything Dave didn't volunteer. He freezes at the reprimand, fingers curling a little where they hang, then drops his gaze. He was ashamed, not eating properly in a couple of days, running on nervous energy and alcohol...that was Pa, not him. Carl rasps a hand across his jaw, almost doubting, for a moment. Keep moving.

He tries and fails to swallow, coughing, and looks at the red streak across his palm. Remembers himself, his old dog and death all curled safe under the woodpile, the boy kitten-weak and burning up, afraid to come inside at Pa's request. What if I die, too? A look at his father's face and he'd never done that again. Hell.

He shows Ward the blood, the burn, and nods gulley-ward, ceasing to brace against the shake in his fingers. Carl waits. Then, meeting Ward's eyes and defying pity, traces the coils of a snake, turning his palm up again. Ward knows he was never consumptive. This has been done to him. "?"

In reply to John Smith (msg #35):

The old man nods. "Very well. Now, you mentioned you had already encountered this man Evans, and I can see by your manner that you have gone through some interesting times. Please, share with me what you have encountered."

In reply to Carl (msg #36):

Ward shakes his head. "I was hoping such matters would be handled in a more gentlemanly fashion, with pugilism or perhaps a duel in the morning hours, not with maiming and brutality. However, I am, indeed, very interested in hearing your reasons..."

He trails off as Carl shows him the marks and the blood. "Let me examine those." He says, then, with or without Carl's permission, draws out his silver pentagram pendant and begins muttering in Latin. He studies the marks, then frowns mightily.

"This...this is unsettling. I need you to tell me exactly how you came about this curse...there may be a chance I remove the aetheric disruptions causing the illness, but I need more information."

Carl raises an eyebrow at the first, not sure he wants to learn how to pugle a man, then touches the lower joint of his left little finger as he closes the hand, watching Ward's face. A man missing that much could still grip, still work. There's a very slight headshake at the request for reasons, a generalising gesture ending in a sweep of thumb across throat and a single tap of the chest. Carl gives a nod townward, frowning, then looks at Ward and gives a flat cutting-off gesture.
"..."

The Dust Adder frowns a frown nowhere near as mighty as Ward's and touches his throat. "..."
Then there's an indication of wide hat, law badge, some back and forth - serpent coils, puppeteering, a crescent...then another nod gully-ways as he mimes shooting himself in the head, on the burn. He indicates his eye, flicking his finger down sharp as a slash of pupil, and points to Ward.
"..."

He leans back a bit, gesturing that the badge is coming here, then tries to swallow. He looks up. "..."

John relates his story to his Master, he's not a terribly skilled story teller but he does show more enthusiasm for it than his normally emotionally passive demeanor would have suggested. He describes his coming to town with a fellow traveler he met on the trail, their fight with one of the walking dead. His meeting with Evans, other encounters with the dead. When describing Alouettes encounter in the cross roads of the street he goes off on a tangent trying to describe the 'tin can angel, angel in a tin can, I don't right know which it's supposed to be'. He describes the attack on the town and how he and Gangatsu got separated trying to make it to Doctor Wards house and his asking for help in locating Zhang. He then relates the rescue and even mentions the encounter with the bounty hunter. Through this, the normally stoic and silent John wears his feelings on his sleeve as he expresses deep concern at the words spoken by the natives during the confrontation, the rising tensions that seem to be getting everyone in an uproar, and while it's clear he doesn't know his fellow deputies well he considers them comrades and is concerned for their safety. When he finishes he realizes that that was the most he has spoken in a long time and even seems a bit embarrassed by it.

Ward sighs. "I suppose that's true, but as I've already relieved Dave of his position for yesterday's unpleasantness coupled with this current outrage, the outcome is the same regardless."

He nods at Carl's admission of pain. "I can prepare a soothing elixir for you, if you like. But I fear that may not be helpful in the long run. This sort of damage will take time to repair, and resources upon which I have not had to draw thus far."

He frowns again at Carl's explanation. "If you are correct, and the whole Society is endangered, then I will have to gather them to help me put the Serpent back in it's restful slumber. Do you know of any of the other members that it has attacked in this foul, underhanded manner?" He shakes his head. "No. Of course not. If the others are having problems, they are subtle ones, only visible in aggregate. Glenn has mentioned no issues, and I have not had word from Arthur or the Widow Bradshaw in the last week...I should seek them out, see if they are being harassed on their own projects."

Ward sighs. "I am so very, very sorry that you and the rest of the men have become the target of the Serpent's ire. Can you think of why it might allow Nathanial's restless shade to hunt you instead of coming for me? Aside from keeping me in the dark about it's planned treachery?"

"BOTHER!" Ward shouts, slamming the table and knocking the basin of water over. Water seeps into the carpet as Ward stands and paces back and forth. "The ranger coming here. Of course. This could not happen at a worse time! I have too much to do to have one of those officious lackwits prodding about my works. I have a gathering to call, a Serpent to tame, a rabid band of Comanches to put down, and I still need to figure out what caused the Federal men to rise from their graves! The whole project hinges on having the treated cattle ready for market...No, this won't do. This won't do at all."

In reply to John Smith (msg #40):

Once John finishes his story, Gangatsu launches into her own mini tale, mentioning her conversation with the giant Tex, her troubles with Ward after voicing her suspicions about his character, her talk with Gus about the dangers of the mine, her vision of an awakening serpent, and adding in what she overheard during the appearance of the Comanche Shaman, how he seemed interested in releasing the serpent from it's slumber to wreck havoc on the world.

Zhang listens impassively, then speaks.

"I hear two different accounts of our benefactor, this man Ward. He seems to be a complicated person. On the one hand, he treats with dangerous entities and surrounds himself with violent allies. On the other, his actions have been noble and he seems willing to listen. Tell me, do you think he can be trusted to help us remove the curse from this land?"

Carl frowns, gestures at the range. "?" He continues to look concerned, indicating himself. "?"

There's a slight headshake at the offer of painkiller - you didn't have to watch a drunkard injure themselves long to appreciate the function of pain. His single experience with laudnum, when someone had dragged him out of the badlands and treated the gunshot wound picked up fetching Jesse from that Nagadotches mess long after the Ranger was involved, made him fear such loss of control. He could live with it. Or un-live with it, whatever he was doing.
There's faint shock at the news the Widow Bradshaw has been playing with the Snake, which makes him worried.

Carl makes a small, swift throwing gesture. "..."
The exclamation makes him wince, head ringing. When he can focus again he taps the desk for attention, looks up at Ward seriously and moves his hand away from his body. "..." There's an indication of overhead lines, tap of the ear, then a nod out where the Comanches were last seen. "..."

Then an unhappy nod at the fireplace, vage point at himself and indication of something rising.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:22, Sat 24 Sept 2011.

"Permanently." Ward says. "I simply cannot excuse his actions. He was involved in the attack against the Marshal, which lead to the death of Charles Landers and the disappearance of Lucas Herbert. Bill McCoy still hasn't reported for work since the incident in town with the automaton. He egged your friend Jesse Hohlfeld into dueling the ranger, costing me yet another hand. And he nearly incited a riot. As one of my employees, his actions reflect on me, and I do not with to be seen around town as some sort of tyrant protecting violent thugs from retribution. Until he has learned to master his temper and made amends to those he has wronged, he cannot be a part of this operation."

"As for you," he sighs, "I don't know. I shall have to consider these developments. Continue with your duties for now while I review the situation."

Ward frowns. "I should hope it won't come to that. I sincerely do. But if the ranger is not willing to listen to reason...yes. If the Ranger seems eager to jeopardize everything we've built and could achieve, then she will have to be stopped, and you can have your satisfaction."

Ward's frown deepens. "One of ours? Who? Or do you mean Nathanial?"

Carl mimes pinning a badge when Bill is mentioned. He just looks at Ward with a near-inhumanly blank stare when he mentions Jesse's death. As if he needed reminding. He narrows his eyes a little at the 'incitement to riot'. "?"

He continues to look up at Ward, something in the set of his shoulders speaking of determination. "?" The wrangler takes a breath, feeling each rib scraping raw flesh. "..." Then he winces, quite visibly as though at some sharp and unexpected pain, looking down. Too soon. He did not want to touch that grief. Move. Carl looks up again, then meaningfully from his empty hands to Ward, gesturing at the other ranch buildings, then presses two fingers to his burn like a gun barrel. Deadly serious. "..."

There's a nod to Ward's ruling on the Question of the Ranger.

Carl shakes his head at the last (regrets it) and holds up right finger and thumb at right angles. Then stares at it, trying to work out if the letter is the right way round.

John thought about this for a long moment and mulled what he knew of Doctor Dexter Ward about in his head, for all his being a guest in his house he didn't know a whole lot about the man. "Well, I know he's a right gentleman and seems to hold that high. Keeps his word and the like, holds to hospitality and respect, doesn't mean he won't kill a man or seek power from things like this serpent. I'd be willin' to bet that if he gives his word he intends to keep it though." he said at last. "But he's certainly connected to this snake thing. So I'd say you can trust him to be a gentleman and keep his word, yes."

"Has he?" Ward says, peaking an eyebrow. "Well, he hasn't come by for his wages. If you do see him again, please send him my way. I think we have much to discuss."

Ward frowns. "Yes. Yes, I am aware of the situation. I suppose I only have myself to blame for inviting the Indian onto these grounds. If he is, indeed, guilty of the crimes he is accused of, then I regret saving his life the other night. But as long as that guilt is in question, he deserves his day in court, not summary lynching. That sort of behavior is uncivilized." He pauses, thinking. "If you can secure me something belonging to the Indian, perhaps a lock of hair or a cherished item, I can determine his guilt or innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt, and then you can do with him what you will. Whipping the townsfolk into murderous frenzy is not a long-term solution to such matters."

Ward sighs. "Should he manage to do so, and if, IF he can demonstrated such to my satisfaction, then yes. I do not have high hopes for that outcome, but I suppose anything is possible."

"There's no need for such melodrama, Carl." Ward says with a sigh. "But I understand. Let's get to the bottom of our troubles before we let recriminations fly. You may remain at your duties until the situation has calmed down. After that, I shall review the matter."

He frowns at Carl's attempts to spell. "I had not heard of this. Do you mean to tell me Lucas Herbert was turned into one of those...those abominations? You need to tell me more about this. This could be vitally important, Carl."

Carl nods, then looks very grim and pretends to grip a coat lapel. "..."

He seems relieved at the admission, then shrugs slightly and meets Ward's eyes with a feral stare and show of teeth. Not quite human enough in context to be called a grin. Ghost rabies. Hard to be melodramatic. He nods at the last, reluctantly. "..."

Carl nods, indicates something rising, ranger, face attack, something down, something burnt up, never moved elsewhere. "..." Shrugs.

In reply to John Smith (msg #46):

Zhang nods. "Then perhaps he can be trusted to do what is right, in the end." He looks down at the bed. "John, I am still weak, and will be some time in healing. I can advise, but I cannot participate in what is to come." He looks up, his eyes boring into John's soul. "I need you to put what you have learned into saving this place, these people. I will give you what help I can, but for once I am afraid I have no ideas on how to begin."

John nods. "Very well." he said solemnly. "I think I do, I'll meet back up with the Marshall, he's a right smart man, probably knows a little more about the current situation at the least." He stands and makes to move to the door before pausing "I'm, um, glad you're doing better." Then, barring any further words from Zhang he figures Gangatsu would likely prefer to have words alone with him and takes his leave.

As John leaves, he finds Abraham, the black servant, waiting by the door.

"How's he doing, sir?"

"He's better. Talking. Seemed to think his rescue was a hallucination at first. Still weak though." John explains. He paused and looked at Abraham recalling the servants near brush with death as well. "Yourself?" he asked. Genuinely curious and figuring it was only polite to enquire.

In reply to Carl (msg #48):

A very dark look storms across Ward's face. "If that should prove the case, then I trust you will administer a most appropriate and gruesome fate. But I want to know for certain first. I understand what rumor and hearsay can do to a good man's reputation...or an evil one, for that matter. That is why I want to investigate the matter that will provide conclusive proof of the man's guilt or innocence." He bends over and picks up the dish he knocked over with his outburst, with only a slight frown at the stain of water seeping into the rug. "A man's past is contained within his being, Carl. It infuses every bit of him. Even the smallest piece of him can provide a glimpse into that past, if one knows the proper technique of looking. A man cannot escape his guilt from one who knows these techniques. Likewise, the innocent man need not fear, for he shall be exonerated." He places the dish in front of him again. "If we are to counter any such rumors of toleration for such depredations, we must have truth at our disposal. Think about what rumors would be spread if the townsfolk had killed what turned out later to have been an innocent man."


Ward rubs his chin. "That is...most distressing, Carl. I'm going to need to speak with her about this. Get her perspective." He stands. "I have to prepare for the Ranger's coming. You are dismissed, Carl. Go about your duties."

In reply to John Smith (msg #52):

He raises his arm, which is in a white sling. "Oh, these old bones will manage. I'll heal." He drops his eyes to the ground. "Thanks to you. I know what you've done for me. I could hear the cherubs singing, sir, before you called me back. Ain't many out there who would do what you done, especially for an old Negro like me. So from the bottom of my heart I want to thank you."

Carl watches Ward as he talks with a faint frown of concentration, then nods respectfully and makes his way out, detouring at a thought to soak his handkerchief in vinegar (they seem to have a lot of vinegar right now for some reason).

Outside, he takes a moment to look at the dark-whorled expanse of the sky, admiring it and breathing in the cool air, feeling the wood of the porch post under his hand. Forgetting grief, the pain just a presence, up against his bones. Who could wish to die, whilst there were days left in the world?
He checks his palm and wipes it on his jeans, makes sure no blood remains.

Carl goes and shrugs on his coat, checks his shotgun over, and paces to see who all's still about. He's particularly looking for Percy, since he'd prefer an answer from him before heading into town, but a companion or so would be good with that cat walking and he needs someone else to find and tell Dave the boss 'remembered' he could come back 'soon as he apologised proper-like. The man won't want Carl chasing him right now.

Carl heads out looking for Percy. He usually has Barn Duty this time of day.

The new barn on Ward's property is...barnlike. Not much different than any barn in other parts of the country. It's filled with the milk cattle, who are quietly lowing as they chew their feed...and one sobbing teenager, curled into the corner.

Carl's pleased with the healthy state of the recently-got Jerseys - nice bit of income, these, with the ironic scarcity of milk in cattle country - and takes a moment to spot Percy in a ball on the floor, since that's not where he expects him to be. His heart does a hard, painful thump in his flesh.

The wrangler moves swiftly over, undecided fear and anger curdled in his chest. His step is quiet and he tries to move to block the exit in case the boy should bolt in shame as he approaches. If Percy stays, he'll get close enough to crouch and put a hand on his shoulder and meet his gaze when he looks up. "...?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:42, Tue 04 Oct 2011.

Percy looks up at Carl, tears streaming down his face, his spectacles in disarray. There's a smoking ring burned into the center of his forehead.

"I...I saw him...I saw him, Carl...I saw Nate! he...he said..."

Something in Carl snaps at the sight of the burn, like a white-hot wire through the heart rending apart. It might be a bond of loyalty, or the urge for self-preservation that has kept him here seeking help this long, or just part of his soul that's taken grief after betrayal after grief. It's only a little pain. For a moment he doesn't even dare touch the boy or move for fear one of them will crumble to ash.

The slide of tears breaks the illusion; Carl nods and puts a finger to his lips. The killing stillness is back in his stance but there's nothing but raw and helpless love for the kid he's failed to protect as he leans close to get Percy's arm over his shoulder. His skull rests against Percy's a moment. "..." Then he jerks his head up and towards the house, ignoring pain. Knowing what he has to do. This, and one thing first.

Percy nods and mumbles something, still clearly shaken. Carl hauls him to his feet, and the pair make towards the house.

But before they clear the barn doors, a shadow falls over the pair. A large, large shadow.

"Carl." The giant, flayed Dust Adder says, blocking the exit with his girth. There's a buzzing in the air, like the rattle of a mighty snake.

Carl looks up and nods warily to Tex, standing very still and aware of Tex's swipe range. He's not sure how much of the previous meeting Tex would have managed to grasp or if he realised Carl had been defending him...the way Tex's mind worked this might be a delayed reaction to his injuring Dave. Without Gus around, it made him uneasy.

He indicates how he's supporting Percy, nods outward.

"Did Carl hurt Percy?" the giant asks. "Did Carl hurt him...like he hurt Dave? Like...he hurt Nate?"

He takes a thunderous step forward, massive arms swinging into grab range. "Tex jus' saw Nate. Nate cold. Nate see-through now. Nate tell Tex, Carl gunna hurt his friends. Gunna hurt Gus. Gunna hurt Mistah Wiggles."

He takes another step forward. "Tex gunna stop Carl afore he hurts anyone else."

Carl frowns and gives a quick headshake of denial, letting Percy go as hastily as he can without risk of the boy falling, nodding to the relative safety of the wall. He shakes a finger at the word 'Nate', teeth bared, and steps back, pointing at himself, at Percy, then Tex himself with a cast-away gesture towards the town.

The mute rasps, trying to form the word 'Dave', but the pain in his throat defeats him and the time for explanation slips away. He backs another couple of steps towards the front rail of the stalls to his right, drawing Tex away from Percy, then stands straight. Big wolf, he thinks.

The chances of Tex instinctively reacting submissively to the posturing are low, but the giant will have associations of him and that look, associations of getting in Trouble. Carl was, of course, That Boy Y'all Don't Ought Play With, after all. Skinny, mean and always covered in bruises from fights or the getaways or hidings earnt by his wicked adventures (mostly, in fact, earnt by simply being too slow and in reach of the bottle demon or at most laughing aloud, but that sort of thing was far less impressive to kids), he'd been a walking dare to those whose parents had warned them away from Bad Influence. Ma Shaw's beloved memory: lady, please save me now, he prays, and grins that old half-wild grin.


[[Intimidate: 8, (or 7, if he's still carrying hangover penalties) blue spent. buying time by puffing up like the monster Tex has him down as at present]]

John blinked, he wasn't blind to prejudice but he wasn't expecting such heartfelt thanks for something he thought anyone would have done. Or at least would have tried to do. "Well, you're welcome." he said as he tried to think of something more appropriate. "Life is life and I reckon the true measure of a man runs much deeper than skin." Sounded about right. He offered his hand, the one that would be more convenient for Abraham to shake, "I'm sure I'll see you around before long, my Master is here after all, but until next time it was nice makin' your acquaintance."

"Oh, you're leaving us?" He says, taking the offered hand and shaking it earnestly. "Well, until our paths cross again."

In reply to Carl (msg #63):

Tex was big. Tex was mean. Tex had once broken a steer's neck just by punching it. Tex had survived being flayed alive while a bullet wormed its way through his guts.

But though Tex was big, and mean, and not easy on the eyes, he was also the dumb kid everyone had picked on. He'd gotten into a lot of fights because of it. And though he was dumb as a bag of hammers, he had a sort of animal cunning that told him which targets were the easier ones. He knew the ones who would fold at the first punch from the ones who would fight until they couldn't move no more.

Carl was one of the later. Tex knew this. He'd seen it when they were just children, in Blackthorn's golden years. He'd seen it when Dave got in Carl's way. And he was seeing it now.

Tex stood there, weighing his options. Was he really sure he wanted to do this? Was he really sure that he could stop the wild boy? Perhaps. But it would hurt, and, big and tough as he was, Tex still hated pain. But Mistah Wiggles, who'd helped him and his brother, made them big and strong, he was in trouble. Nate had said so. But Nate never really was all that nice to him. But Carl had made Nate go away forever, and Carl would do the same to all Tex loved. But...

All Carl could see was the look of distant confusion across the giant's face. He had stopped moving forward, had hesitated. This was the opening he'd been hoping for...

((OOC: Tex rolls spirit to resist: 23:22, Today: Tex rolled 4,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1. Resisting Test of Wills. Well, that's a Success and Raise. Tex is currently Shaken, and Carl gets a +2 bonus to his next action against Tex))

Carl checks to see that Percy has either slipped away or is leaning somewhere relatively safe - that's the important thing - steps back and slips the loop of chain keeping the front rail of the stalls up, heaving it back and smacking the startled front cow into motion in the same movement.

If Carl was Trouble, letting the cows escape would be worse. Gus would yell and Ward would do his Disappointed Voice...Carl hoped that and the universal law of kid-who-started-it-never-gets-caught would switch the powerful engine of Tex's one-track mind onto a different railroad.


[[Smarts (trickery/distraction) 6. I'm making a few presumptions about the livestock management here based on personal observation and the logic that these animals are probably being held more or less temporarily for distribution to Ward's "peasants" rather than with an eye to training Dust Adders as milkmaids. The only period picture reference for stalling I could find was the tie-up kind used for shows, along with many pictures from San Angelo(!), so in my head Ward's byre resembles a slightly makeshift Scottish one.]]

Percy is, in fact, slowly creeping along the wall, trying to make it through before the giant notices him.

The cow bellows and starts ambling forward, and Tex, more out of instinct than conscious thought, shoves his way past Carl in order to corral them. He wasn't too keen on going back on Milk Duty...the cows didn't like him all that much, and would kick or start whenever he came near.

Which is precisely what they were doing now, as he tried to keep them from breaking into the open. He'd be here quite a while trying to maintain order...

((OOC: 06:51, Today: Tex rolled 1,2 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,2. Resisting Trick. Tex fails hard enough that Carl gets a Raise over him. since the point of the trick was to send Tex off elsewhere, he's got that going. Nice.

Yes, these are the cows being held for sale to town, as well as for the ranch's personal use. There aren't a lot of girls around the ranch to do things like milk cows or churn butter though, so some of the Dust Adders do, in fact, have "milkmaid" duty. It's about as popular among the DA's as latrine duty. If Dave hadn't been fired, he'd probably have been put on Milk Duty for a couple months.))

Carl stumbles a little at the shove, but recovers and uses the momentum to dodge his way through milling cattle to Percy's side. If the kid's still stumbling and shaky with trauma he'll re-offer his shoulder, if not he'll just tug him urgently outside, heading for the house but at the same time looking around for Gus or where he might have gone.

[[Heh, at least it establishes his/their cowboy credentials.]]

Percy clings to Carl as the two of them make a run for the house. Gus doesn't seem to be anywhere around...Carl remembers him volunteering for "stock inspection" duty after the meeting, which basically consists of paroling the edge of the ranch and shooting trespassers (like, say, ornery Comanche). Unless he came back early, he's miles away right now. However, Mike is with him...the same Mike that helped bring down Nate, and likely to receive a visit from the spectral gunman.

Carl slams into the house without troubling to knock, kicking the door shut behind them. If that doesn't draw a furious Ward out to see what the fuss is, he'll go looking for him, holding tightly to the anger burning through him like rope, pulling him onward.

The slam rocks through the mansion.

Abraham excuses himself hastily and rushes downstairs.

"What in the name of...Carl!" the servant says, looking at the man and his charge. "What's happened?"

Carl stares up at Abraham from the middle of the hall, Percy clinging to him like it's that or go under. The mute is clearly very upset about something, and somehow the lack of a trail of blood isn't at all comforting as he jerks his head at the younger Dust Adder. "?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:41, Sun 09 Oct 2011.

"I'm not sure...I think he's in his study." Abraham says, heading over to inspect the pair. "Did he get trampled?"

Realizing there wasn't much he could do, the servant turned and headed upstairs. "I'll go up and see if I can find him. You hold on tight now...help's on the way."

There's a desperate lip-curl of anxious frustration at more questioning that only subsides when Abraham hurries off as best he can for the doctor.

Reasoning that there are more places the Doc's likely to be upstairs and that stopping would be really bad for Percy right now Carl half-urges, half-carries the youth that way as best he can, pain scorching the inside of his own lungs and pointing out every healed once-broken bone in his body (there are several).

It's in this strange situation, supporting a comrade's warmth and carrying a boy who did not yet know he was dead, that Carl finds himself whistling, almost under his breath. It takes him a moment, fighting upward, to recognise the tune, and even then the words of the miner's lullaby stay just out of reach, returning in scraps and faint distorted echoes from decades before:

...for our heat, our light, our lamp...

     ...and the cold wind blows, yet tommorrow...

...and you'll never have to toil, underground...

Not knowing what else to do for the kid, Carl hauls onward and is simply there.

It takes Carl a few minutes for him to haul Percy up the stairs. Percy, for his part, tries to move as much as Carl will let him.

When Carl reaches the top, he finds Ward already waiting.

"So. Nathanial's phantom has struck again. Let us get him into the spare bedroom...I can examine him better there."

Carl just stares at Ward a moment. Then he moves up and sort of transfers the cling to the doctor since Percy's probably not up to objecting/high awareness at present, stepping away with a hard look and a slight headjerk at the town.
"..." Silently so, so angry.

There's a swift mime - hat, heart, claws - before Carl turns away and starts back down, knuckles whitened over his shotgun.

In reply to Carl (msg #77):

"Don't you think I know that?" Ward says as he takes Percy's load off Carl. "Carl, I need you to deliver a message to the Lodge before you pursue the Ranger. They need to assemble so we can deal with this crisis, and we need to assemble here before nightfall. The serpent's powers must grow greatly at night. All the worst troubles we've had...the Yankee rustlers turning, the attack of that abominable creature you and the others put down, the attack from the savages...all occurred within minutes or hours of sundown. Whatever the creature is trying to distract us from, it will happen in the evening. You have to hurry. Make sure they know and make sure they get here or the consequences may be dire indeed."

With that, he pulls Percy into the guest room, out of sight.

Carl pauses on the stairs and turns about like something caught in a trap attempting to bite, but Ward's gone. There's a stranger about, though. Whoever he is, Ward doesn't seem to be shy of talking around him - probably one of the goddamn Masons - and if that cowboy-type gear means anything and he's been about awhile any fool could read sign and realise the Injuns were restless.

The rough man on the stairs looks up/over at John Smith with a clear question in his face and stance, like 'You going to help?'
"?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:53, Mon 10 Oct 2011.

John had been drawn to the sounds along with Abraham, he would even have helped Carl bring Percy upstairs if he was permitted. Once at the top he glanced in the direction of the Doctor and then back to Carls inquisitive look. Well, Zhang told me to do what I could to help this town, this counts I reckon. he thought and nodded to Carl. He nods his assent and motions for Carl to lead the way.

Carl looks at John a moment longer, assessing the stranger's build before turning away and hastening down the stairs. He'd seen no unfamiliar horses around, so the man must have walked from town and would need a mount.

John will see the man pause to look down towards the new barn whilst on the porch, then move swiftly across the yard towards the corral as though wary of the lack of cover. Once there, Carl whistles for Hoss, gets her out, saddled and bridled inside a minute and wades into the corral with a rope held low and ready.

A short time later Carl returns leading a dark chestnut well-suited to John's height and passes him the rope. The wrangler jerks his head at where tack is to be found and makes to go off and attend to something else whilst John finds a saddle that'll fit, gesturing 'five' with an upraised hand. "..."



[[some quick summarising so's Stray can wrap up the thread. I assumed John was a little bit too late in turning up to be able to go down and help haul Percy there, since that would've got a very hostile reaction from Carl (see viciously protective response to Wildcat giving the littlest Dust Adder a comforting hug) and they seem to be getting on here.]]

John nods and goes through the motions of prepping his horse. While he wasn't going to run a rodeo any time soon he knew his way around horses like anyone else in the West and would soon have the dark chestnut readied within the five minute time limit provided.

((OOC: This thread is not closed yet. Please continue posting here for just a little while longer))

Carl spends one of his five minutes in a rapid scan of the bunkhouse before loping over to the nearer barn, throwing a lit match and a shot of the bourbon Frank kept hid down beside his bed into the summoning brazier and immolating Nate's playing cards. Stood to reason that if Ward used ghost rock and drew off the Snake here you needed a fire to talk to something in that place, and to burn something of worth for attention.

Carl licks blood from a tooth and stands tensely alert, prepared to wait a couple of minutes but no longer to see if this hoodoo works. He's aware there should be some sort of incantation involved, but trying to speak just makes him cough, so he spits off to the side and grips his gun for all the good that won't do, a stillness in him like ice.



[[confuse me, you will...the blue and one white spent there (because he's very frustrated/angry) for a wonderful net result of 4.]]

There's a faint wail as the remains of the Ghost Rock in the brazier catch, and a flash of ghostly white smoke as the cards curl and turn black.

There's silence in the old barn for several minutes. It doesn't seem like anything's coming.

Then Carl hears a voice from the shadows.

"Well, now. What have we here?"

Carl turns from where he was heading out with a mute snarl of cold fury and paces towards the voice as though preparing to drag a cringing puppy to where the puddle is and rub its nose in it.

There's a rapid series of gestures - cutting off, points at the house, bunkhouse, sky, range, town, and a vicious stabbing gesture accompanied by a nod in the latter direction before he steps back again, spits, and makes to go.

There's laughter from the darkness.

"Well, how 'bout that? Carl the mute ha' somethin' to say! Well, now you spoke yo peace, I feel obliged to rebut ya. You don't know me as well as you think you did. I sol' my soul long before you ever even heard my name. Who do you think taught Gus how to make his deal, huh?"

"Let me give you a little bit of advice, frien'. Put a bullet through your skull now. Save yourself the heartache. 'Cause anythin' else you do is just gonna make things worse, and the worse things get the stronger Tezcatlcoatl gets. The stronger he gets, the stronger I get. And I ain't gonna be alone. I'm gonna go out and collect them souls what owe me for takin' my life, and when all you boys pass over, well, we'll gather together again, one big happy family o' specters to ride Hell through Texas."

"You have a point though...it ain't right what Audry gonna have to go through. Think I'll go pay her a visit and spare her all that afore the redskins come. Tah tah!"

The flame in the brazier dies, and the barn falls silent.

Carl makes a very rude gesture as he walks out into the light, not even troubling to look back. Jerk. He wasn't too worried about Audrey - they were church-goin' folk and if Nate could get at his hated full-blood brother or entirely-too-beloved sister he'd have done it already. Well, Carl had tried. Ward could deal with the bastard later. It would be poetic to think the bitter taste was the last drained dregs of loyalty, but it's only hunger and blood.

He's at a near-run by the time he rejoins John, nodding approval and a slight apology for being perhaps half a minute late, and mounting up. He'll wait only as long as it takes for John to do likewise before kicking off at a fast canter for the town.

John mounts up and follows after Carl. He smirked as he found a little irony in situation, but it was gone in an instant, there were dark things afoot and it was about to get particularly dangerous to say the least.

This thread is closed. Please resume posting on the 12.2 thread.