"Broaddale cahk-suka shitting out of mouth." Sitting Duck says at Matt's display of linguistic proficiency. "Should watch that. Must make food taste bad, with that shit in your mouth. Unhealthy." He nods sagely, then looks back to Maddox and raises the wanted poster. "Talking leaf." He waves it for effect. "Leaf talks. White man listens."

In reply to Freiherr von Steinhof (msg # 39):

The woman stares at Von Steinhof dully, as if she's not really seeing anything around her. "I-I have t-to g-g-give this t-to the G-german." She says again.

Leopold presses his lips together and swallows his pride.

"Very well. I am *the* German. May I have the package?"

In reply to Freiherr von Steinhof (msg # 43):

The woman picks up the box and holds it out for Von Steinhof to take.

"Oh, right. Yes. Reading, that's called. The white man reads. Except I'd presume these papers would be in Chinese." He drums his fingers a few more times, then leans back and offers $20 across the table. "That's all I can give you for just words. I'll...let you know if I get the opportunity to go into that area, though if she's married this Tarha fellow or the negro she might be out of our reach, see you."

"Smart move, that," he adds under his breath, impressed.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:23, Fri 03 Feb 2017.

"Whiskey tastes good enough, and never had a lady complain, neither. Speaking of, what exactly is your interest in this woman, men? Is this really just as simple as a bounty on Huang Li's stolen goods? Seems like there's a personal element to it," he theorized in Sitting Duck's direction.

"He ain't lyin'," Daisy says, taking the next available barstool, still a little flushed and very happy.

"Broaddale cahk-suka still here, lips flapping in breeze like whore cunt." Sitting Duck growls as he snaps up the money. "Should go to fuk-te-hel-off, and die in fire."

((OOC: I don't think he likes Matt much.))
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Fri 03 Feb 2017.

Maddox tenses but says nothing in front of the rain-soaked and aggressive soldier, the drumming of his fingers slowing to an odd, unconscious pattern.

Daisy drops her rifle off her shoulder, just in case. [Language unknown: "Thu ur erasheateessone roure e whhat, ivestrnce forwe? U n, ter wicom whli sannteortorteau hasle po, ratti T n ine verto tailee e wialni."]

Matt sighed and pushed off his barstool, swinging around to face Sitting Duck, very close.

"Now, I admit I butted in to your conversation with Vic here, Sitting Duck, and as my curiosity has been known to get me in trouble, I apologize for not introducing myself beforehand," he paused and took a long draw from his drink, slapped a gold dollar coin on the bar and glared with the shadow of death in his eyes at the Pawnee scout. "But allow me to flap my lips a bit more, and feel free to tell whichever traitor piece of shit gives you your orders, too. The Sioux nations are a sovereign one, and their continued peaceful alliance with the United States of America is very important to the continued health and peace of all of us on this continent. Deadwood is not a peaceful, healthful place on its best day, and this illegal invasion is not helping. I don't know if you've been around, but the last few weeks have been...trying.

I can't do anything about ghost stories or hysteria, but murder, assault, battery? I am very well equipped to handle. You go after blood in this town, and I'm coming off the bench. I will count coup on you seven times and pack you off to the Happy Hunting Grounds. In fact..." Matt cleared his throat, and looked around the bar at the few people, some harmless, some degenerate bastards who would contribute more to the health of the nation if they were six feet under it, and spoke a little louder, "you're all on notice. I'm back from vacation. Keep your hands off your weapons, Sitting Duck, or I'll drag you across the badlands to Illinois by your Mohawk."

OOC: that was wordy. Hopefully this doesn't make me look like a twat. Intimidation to put the fear of Marshal Broaddale in Sitting Duck. I'm sure it's not his fault he's an ass.
13:48, Today: Matthew Broaddale rolled 13,7 using d6,d8, rerolling max (((6+6+1)13,7)).

Daisy bites her lip, enjoying that voice, but doesn't set her rifle down.

James's face lights up like a kid a Christmas, "Seeing as I was bout to go get myself possibly strung up again going after this ..." He takes off the borrowed gun belt and replaces it with his own. "As for Carter, that man is a snake in the grass. I expect him to slip past all this and come after his pistol."

OOC: Now I'm thinking Trademark Weapon might be a better fit than Dodge ... dang it!

The black giant sniffs the air and tilts his head, as if listening.
"There was a fire here... and death. Moses knows that Little Crow will be glad to hear it, but the Spirits have been saddened by so many souls having perished.
And..." he licks his lips and smiles, "Good has triumphed against Evil. The fire consumed the servants of the Reckoners more so than the Champions of the Lord. It was a battle, yes, but as the battle Moses and Art and Little Crow fought - it was a victory for the right side."

He shakes his head, suddenly sad. "Children have died, too, Little Crow. Does your heart have only hatred for little children, too?"

Belle had been quiet to not signal her interest in all of this.  This had been fruitful, very fruitful.  She wasn't sure if it were going to be all that useful, but damned if this hadn't worked a treat.

Belle had learned some wonderful words in her rough trade, one of which was pissing contest.  She was watching one, that was for sure.

She was very careful not to gesture too much.  Belle was getting crazy ideas, but the speech of the bounty hunter(?) gave her pause.  Being visibly ethnically distinct did pose a certain problem.  Still, it might be worth inquiring.  She might be stuck in town looking for more "supplies" tonight after all.

She hadn't really moved, acted or reacted this whole time, but the foul mouthed Indian from before might put things in a bad way.  Belle still had that glass phial.  Casually she walked toward the exit in case this Pawnee didn't get the message, disinterested in all the happenings.

Leopold looks at the package to find a sender or some indication who it might be from.
"Who did you say asked you to give this to the German?"

((How big a package are we talking about? And if she's holding it towards me: does it look heavy?))

The box is a thin wooden crate, about the size one would expect a file cabinet to be. There's a label on it:



The woman just stands there, holding the box out to him, staring off into space.

Leopold accepts the package.

"Thank you, Miss...?"

In reply to Matthew Broaddale (msg # 51):

Sitting Duck's face screws up in a rage, and he balls his fists...but apparently thinks better of taking a swing. "Broaddale cahk-suka." He mutters, but there's not much force behind it. Instead he turns, and stomps out of the bar, kicking the door frame as he leaves.

((OOC: 23:38, Today: Sitting Duck rolled 3 using 1d8, rerolling max with rolls of 3.  Spirit. Yeah, Matt handily browbeats Sitting Duck.))

In reply to Freiherr von Steinhof (msg # 58):

As Von Steinhof takes the package out of her hands, the woman collapses.

In reply to Moses (msg # 54):

Little Crow shrugs. [Language unknown: "Ch etckac ng ension ave dinainers siesel wilsetore wit, e moee e sshas ol urai n si. A iewhe us, one thuughcon was e tranteour fowasa ent pl peiv estessthu, ove oun hiil rea ev a nipe starutven."]

Kills Iron Horse frowns, and looks away from Little Crow. She forces herself to stare at the burned ruins.

Walks The Night Alone shakes his head. [Language unknown: "Reta herentany elioce butntevorder lohat erble n undameave nent at erain is tioatehou erawasour, Ortreswas Ncng."]

Leopold rushes forward to catchher, awkwardly balancing the package.
The best he manages is slowing her fall.

"A doctor! Get a doctor!"

He kneels down next to her.

In reply to Old Ways Braves (msg # 61):

The prophet shakes his head.
"You say the words your masters would want you to say, Little Crow. But Moses can see into your heart. And Moses sees your words are empty and without conviction.
Kills Iron Horse and Walks the Night Alone already believe you to be evil incarnate. Moses knows you are not.
So who are you trying to convince, Little Crow? Yourself? "

In reply to Ezekiel Starkweather (msg # 34):

"Zeke," Jackie sighs, "You been burned. I get that. But what makes you any better? Since I met you, I ain't heard nothin' but scorn and condemnation. But tell me honestly...how clean are them hands o' yours?"

"Now, I ain't sayin' you're wrong, not entirely. But I've seen anarchy. I seen men kill each other for a scrap o' food, a handful o' bullets, or a jug o' Spook Juice." Jackie waves her hand to encompass the town. "You say this here civilization ain't worthy. I say that I've gone through the alternative. I've seen the before and the after. I've been places that make Deadwood here look like the Golden Halls o' Paradise. So yeah. You see things about the system you don't like. Fair enough." She pokes Zeke in the chest. "But start bein' part of the fuckin' solution, instead o' part of the problem. 'Cause you ain't the only one that lives here. We're all in this together."

In reply to Freiherr von Steinhof (msg # 62):

The soldiers who'd been watching this odd occurrence spring into bumbling action, colliding with each other as they rush off to find a medic.

The woman is unconscious, but still breathing.

After a few minutes, a soldier with a red cross patch heads over to the fallen. "I've got her." he says as he pulls her out of Von Steinhof's grasp. "Give me some space and let me have a look. What happened?"