Roberts’ route leads those following him around the Rio Bonito Valley, keeping them high amongst the cool mountain air and the tall pine and piñon trees. The riders steal glimpses of Lincoln as they move past the town in the concealment of the forest, finding its Main Street sleepy, with only a few people and wagons circulating among the stores and saloons. Soon, the buildings have passed from view as the group’s horses splash across the silver expanse of the river.

The trail grows thinner, becoming harder and harder for all but the sharpest eyed among the group to see. The spruce bushes are deep blue beneath the growing shadows from the ancient pine trees that lean across the narrow path, making the ride feel more and more like a passage through a cavern than a forest. Above, crows caw, and a few hummingbirds buzz past with a speed that defies vision. To the east, a lone coyote gives out a lonesome howl.

Suddenly, the trees part, and the riders find themselves in a crescent shaped clearing which is nestled against a sheer rock face, perhaps forty feet high, with a pair of cave openings at its base. The bubbling of a brook can be heard nearby, but not seen. Gathered around a fire are half a dozen Apache warriors, three male, three female, all of whom are involved in preparing a meal. Also seated on a pair of nearby rocks are the Comanche wanderer Kansas Kate knows as Shabbakasha, and the red haired mustanger Aileen Kearney.

One of the Apache warriors approaches the group as they enter the clearing. He nods to Roberts then, looking to the others, gestures to the campfire. ”You’ve probably had a long ride. Sit and eat. We have venison, beans, flatbread. Fresh water from the brook. Feed for the horses too.”

Before he had a chance to eat, he saw to his horse, then went to see if he could find Tamsin.

"Miss River, if you don't mind, could you fix me up like you did for some of the others?" It was just a minor cut from his altercation with Dolan, along with some swelling and bruising that was already start to show. He could weather it, but the smarter move was getting it seen to - and it seemed like there wasn't much better of a choice than Tamsin River from what he'd heard and seen.

Double K wasn't rude to their host, but she only nodded at him.  She preferred her meat a little more rare.

But she lit up at the sight of Shabbakasha.  If that Indian had meant to get his own pet outlaw gunfighter, he had succeeded.

"Hey it's Wolf Who Walks."  Her names for him were as inconsistent as they were wrong, but such it was.

02:43, Today: Tamsin River rolled 2,4 using D8+1,D6+1, rerolling max ((1,3)).

Please ignore that second roll, I hit the back button and it rolled again :P

Tamsin is still with Lydia when Lee approaches. “Of course, Mr. Lee. I’m sorry I didn’t tend to you earlier,” she says. She ushers him closer to the fire so she can see, examining his arms in detail with her hands before going to work. Salve for the bruises, another for the cut and he was good as new.

Albert was his typical chatty self as they rode, and there was no single target of his chatter. His attempts with Jacinta were more of the 'get to know you' variety, with Kate they were more of the 'how's your mental state' variety, with Bryan it was more 'what's the plan, chief?', with Zeke it was 'what's up, Doc?', and Tamsin it was more assessing how she was after being in a firefight, at he was suspecting she hadn't been in them all that often.

He also again offered to improve some bullets for folk that might want such and otherwise tried to be pleasant company during the ride.

OOC: Let me know who wants special bullets!

Also, how many power points do we recover during the ride (if any?)

Albert dismounted with others, his bulk causing him to do it slightly slower and more deliberately than he did in years past. He led Brandy to the water, but he couldn't make her drink.

After seeing to her needs, the cowboy made sure the other horses seemed properly cared for, then made his way to the food with a nod. "Thankee fer yer hospitality, folks. Appreciate it."

Jacinta seemed fairly relaxed on the ride into the mountains, feeling more at ease in the wilderness than she ever did in town.  While she didn't mind chatting with Albert along the way, she still remained watchful as they climbed.  Something about her showdown with Frank Baker had given her a touch more confidence.  She'd gone toe to toe with a feared sniper and lived to tell the tale.  While she hadn't brought him down, she'd kept him out of play during the gunfight and likely saved a few lives in the process.  After nearly being killed by Jim McDaniels, she needed that little victory.

Halting in the clearing, she dismounted and hitched her horse to a tree to browse, intending to lead the mare to water once she'd cooled down.  She gave the natives a cursory glance, but lifted a hand in greeting to Aileen Kearney.  Approaching the mustanger, she tipped her hat.  "Didn't expect to see you here.  How'd you fall in with this lot?"


OOC:  Jacinta is always achin' for some magic bullets.

Bauer dismounts, and after hitching her horse to a nearby tree, accepts a cup of water. She nods at the woman respectfully. ”I ‘preciate the kindness. Thank you for lettin’ us share your camp.”

Shabbakasha smiles, clearly more concerned with the intent behind Kate’s greeting, rather than its correctness. ”It is good to see you again, tuwikáa. I am pleased that you are safe. You have been in battle. You must come and tell me of all that has happened.”

As she draws closer, he tells her quietly, ”I killed a deer with my bow and dressed it. It is east of the camp, just a short walk. I also found a man drunk and snoring by the side of the road to Lincoln with a full bottle of whiskey beside him. It seemed to me that he did not need any more, so I took it for you.”

When Roberts first climbs down from his horse, he steps aside with two of the Apache warriors, a man and a woman. The three of them share a quiet, sober conversation for several moments. Once done, Roberts returns to the campfire, where he approaches Albert Cooper. ”Mr. Cooper, there are several things in my life that I’m not proud of. My temper’s one of ‘em. I ‘preciate what you did back there at Blazer’s Mill, steppin’ in and talk in’ sense to me. I’m afraid things would’ve turned out a damn sight worse if you hadn’t done that. Thank you.”

Kearney pats the space beside her, inviting Castillo to sit. Her expression holds a hint of regret. ”Here’s the thing: I could tell you a story about how I came to be amongst these good folks, and do my very best to be entertainin’ while avoidin’ bein’ honest, or I can just tell you the truth and hope we’re still friends at the end of it.”

She takes a neatly folded set of papers from the inner pocket of her vest and hands them to the scout. Scanning the first page, Castillo can see that she is holding a warrant, issued by an United States Federal Court for the arrest and detention of one William Preston Longley for train robbery and multiple murders.

Jacinta took a seat, propping her knees on her elbows as she read through the papers Kearney handed her.  Cocking her head in mild confusion, she passed the warrant back to the woman.  "So you're a law dog huntin' for this Longley fella?  How's that stop us from being friends?"

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," he said to Tamsin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll need to get about the business we all set on here today."

He made his way over to Cooper and Roberts, who were speaking, enough to catch the last bit.

"Yes, we're all a bit better off thanks to Mr. Cooper's various talents. I've learned that since hangin' with him for a bit. One of these days, I'm gonna have to deputize him for the long haul. But I reckon that if we're stoppin' here, you consider this a safe enough place to share your tale with us. I hate to beat a dead horse, but the House has already tried to stop us from hearing that tale once. In fact, according to this letter I found on Dolan's person they believed it imperative that you not speak with us and that you had some knowledge that could light all their plans on fire."

He brandished the letter, freely offering it to anyone who wanted to take a look.

"As far as I'm concerned, I'd like to find out what in the world is goin' on here."

Albert nodded appreciatively at Roberts' thanks, bringing a forefinger to the brim of his hat as he did. "You are very welcome. And thank you fer not rippin' me ta shreds. Some folk ain't smart enough ta open their ears an' their mind in that sorta situation. Ya proved better'n that."

He smiled at the suggestion he was worthy of being deputized on a more permanent basis. Truth be told, it was something he'd thought about in recent days and months. "Thanks, general. Might just take ya up on that."

Albert was also curious about Roberts' tale and didn't interrupt any further, so he turned a curious face back toward Buckshot.

In reply to Shabbakasha (msg # 8):

She shook her head.  "They done gone loco.  Evans is dead, via yours truly.  They done grabbed Dolan.  He'll be dead soon enuff, wouldn't worry 'bout that none.  Them Regulators or whatever the hell they call themselves rode in, ah still don't know what in the blue hell they're playin' an' ah don't trust 'em, but ah gots enough irons in th' fire as it is."

Kansas Kate thought for a moment how much more she hated them after Evans had tried to hide behind a boy.  There wasn't a lot of good in Kansas Kate but picking on children just got her fired up, maybe in a bad way.

She smirk-smiled at his preparations.  She'd swiped some from the saloon while she'd been there too, so she had a nice little supply going.

"Well look at you.  I swear if they weren't such God damn inbred wind'er'lickers the people of this county would do well ta boot these stupid sons of bitches like Murphy and just put you in charge.  But we both know they won't."

Roving Wolf chuckles. ”I would make a terrible chief, tuwikáa. I like the company of the forest more than the company of most people.”

“Evans was a cruel man. One who found amusement in harming others. It is good that he is dead.”

Kearney smiles at Castillo’s response. ”Well, there’s some in these parts that wouldn’t take too kindly to a Union law dog huntin’ a fella in Confederate territory. Truth of the matter is, I wouldn’t be doin’ it but for the fact that what this Longley character pulled was so awful.”

She takes a flask from her hip pocket, sips from it, then offers it to the scout. ”But, way it’s turned out, it looks as though I’m lookin’ for the same man you and your friends are.”

Roberts takes a seat by the campfire. Drawing paper and tobacco from the poke on his belt, he begins to build a smoke. ”Long ago, before there were the tribes that we know now...the Apache, Comanche, Navajo, Hopi, and others...those that settled these mountains were just called the people. The Capitan range and the Rio Bonito Valley, they offered all anyone could want for a good and peaceful life. The people lived here for many winters, and they thrived.”

“One winter, something woke. Some say it had burrowed deep into the rocks of the mountains and came up once again when it heard the tread of the people’s feet. Others think it came from elsewhere, that it perched in one of the high passes because the height and the isolation  suited it.” Roberts gestures to Shabbakasha. ”The Comanche came to call that place the Winter Path, because so few are willing to brave the cold up there to travel it. When the Spaniards came to New Mexico, they termed it el gran vacío, the great emptiness. Settlers now call it High Lonesome.”

“This spirit...this manitou...it consumes living things. You go up the mountain apiece right now, you’ll come to a spot where everythin’ is gray and dead. Just the shell of a pine forest. It’s because she’s woke up, and sucked a lot of it dry. But just the mountain and what’s on it ain’t enough for her.”

“Story goes that she appeared to one of the people. A man who was jealous of another, because of his brother’s prowess as a hunter and the beautiful wife he had. Through him, she divided the people against each other and there was war. The bloodshed...it fed her. Made her strong.”

He fetches a branch from the fire and uses it to light his smoke. ”To many, she seemed to be nothing but shadow. But it’s said that when she truly appeared to people, she looked like she was part human, part owl. The people, and the tribes that came after, came to call her Big Owl or the Owl Witch. When the Spanish settled near the Rio Bonito, they gave her the name La Lechuza. She’s rarely spoken of. Her coming always brings death and misfortune.”

“After many of the people had killed one another, a medicine woman came upon the truth: that the witch from the mountains had poisoned them against one other. The people went up to the Winter Path to fight her. The Owl Witch raised the bodies of all those who had died to serve as her army. The people overcame her...at great cost. Buried her in the rocks. Locked her away.”

He exhales a stream of smoke, the gray fumes mingling with those from the crackling fire. ”Over the years, she’s haunted people here and there. Shown herself to a few that go up in Capitan Pass. But she stayed trapped. Until California fell and the Ghost Rock came, and darkness started runnin’ free over the land. Then she stirred.”

“But she was weak. Starved. ‘Til she convinced someone to bring a wagon train up through High Lonesome.”

Kansas Kate lent an ear.  Well, there was one place where she might wind up having to go that perhaps would not be wise for others.  This whole being dead thing for sure had its ups and downs.

When he paused, she was impatient.  "Get a wiggle on, how do ah kill his ass?"

Kansas Kate had cut to the heart of the matter in a manner of speaking, but he needed to know the whole landscape of the situation.

"So, this Owl Witch...she convinced Murphy to bring a wagon train full of folks up there, and their spectres still haunt Lincoln and maybe Murphy if he gave a damn. You and he were the only ones who made it back. What's the story there? And what's the endgame? I mean, so he goes up there and gets some kinda hoodoo power from the Owl Witch. Why kill Tunstall, and suppress the population?"

Albert nodded at the story and squinted as he tried to see through time and space to the locations and times described by Roberts.

He nodded at the questions from the others, but considered his own knowledge stores on those things that were not as they seemed.

OOC: Occult of 5 provide any additional knowledge or suspicions?

16:19, Today: Albert Cooper rolled 5,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3.  Occult.

”What does he want at the end? Well, I figure that part’s pretty plain, Ranger. It’s just as when the witch set the people against one another. Murphy’s whole aim is to start a war. Set folks at each other’s throats. That thing on the mountain feeds on bloodshed every time it wakes. Blood and terror. All the discontent he’s started here. People feelin’ trapped in their own homes, cornered on how they can afford the things they need. It’s all bread and butter to the manitou. It thrives on fear.”

Roberts puffs on his smoke. ”You’ve actually done more damage today to his plan than anyone has. They don’t know it, but I figure those Regulators were Murphy’s best hope of creatin’ the kind of conflict he wanted. Half those boys are on a hair trigger. They were inches away from throwin’ down on Sheriff Brady. They were convinced that he’d had a hand in Tunstall’s murder, or at least in coverin’ it up. But now, you and this group of folks have Billy Bonney listening to reason. Hell, you got me to listen to reason when I almost stepped in it and became part of the problem.”

He shakes his head. ”Since Murphy came down from that mountain, it seems like it’s been easier and easier to give into anger. I’m sure it’s her. Every shooting, every tragedy...it makes her stronger.”

“I ain’t gonna lie to any of you. When I first come to New Mexico, I’d been up in the Capitan Mountains to hide out from some trouble I’d gotten myself into in Texas. I’m not about to claim that I’m a good man, but I will say that I’m better than I was, ever since the Apache found me and took me in. I hired on to help guide that wagon train cause I thought it was easy pay. I was more interested in fillin’ my pockets than in seein’ those families to safety.”

“I didn’t listen, neither. Murphy had just shown up in the valley. Claimed to be a former soldier. Talked the talk well enough that I’m sure he’s served a little time, but...later on, when Renata Montano started to try to find out more about him, some of the stories made her think that Murphy was someone else. That the real Lawrence Murphy never left Antietam alive. But she couldn’t ever prove anything.”

He gazes into the campfire, his eyes narrowing. ”Back then, Murphy wasn’t even interested in cattle. And money? He was already plenty rich. I wasn’t the only one who wondered where it might have come from, but once I got a taste of it I shut up with my questions. But if you ever get curious, take a ride out to his ranch. The steer he has on his range are poor specimens of cattle. I’ve heard tell he’s bought cows from ranchers in Texas, even from John Chisum, to help fulfill the beef contracts he stole from Tunstall. It was never about ranching. About owning the valley. It’s about her’

He points to Aileen Kearney. ”Miz Kearney there seems to have the best idea of who Murphy really is. But somehow, in his travels up north, he learned about the witch. And he took that wagon train up there as an offering. To give her enough blood so that she’d wake up. But in the end? Murphy just wants this valley to eat itself. For enough bad blood to take hold that Lincoln’s a shell when it’s all said and done, and the witch can get her fill.”

“It’s worth it to him. La Lechuza has gone and made it so he can’t die. Not like any normal man, anyhow.”

Jacinta crossed herself after Roberts finished his telling and glanced back to Aileen.  "You think this Longley is the real identity of the man they call Murphy, chica?"

Kansas Kate was impatient, but she was also thinking.  Her thought was, why not kill the thing Murphy was trying to wake up?  It was asleep wasn't it?

Metaphysical vagaries were never her strong suit though, ironic considering her current state.

Then another thought came to her, but she'd wait before voicing that one.

Kearney nods gravely. ”I do. The story’s a long one, which I won’t go into in great detail, but Murphy’s the right age and appearance to be Bill Longley. Rumor is Longley came from Texas originally, but fled from there because of his involvement in several shootings. Enlisted in the U.S. Cavalry. He and three other soldiers robbed a group of military wagons carrying gold bars out of Wyoming to Denver for transport east. Killed all of their fellow enlisted, and the commanding officer. One by one, the three that were in on it with Longley turned up dead, and he disappeared. With a fortune in gold.”

Albert leaned back and tipped his face upwards for a bit as he considered what he'd heard. His own experiences in the town hadn't been constant trouble, but now that it was said out loud...there was more than a town of that size ought to have.

"Capitan Pass has been generally avoided since before I ever came here. Some insist that area's haunted, but some that been here a long time, 'specially those of Spanish descent, seem convinced that the area is cursed. Though I ain't never been given a full explanation for the belief."

He frowned for a moment and then offered another nugget. "I also hearda the Big Owl in some Apache stories. Big Owl either takes on some sorta monstrous half-human/half-owl form or is seen as a gigantic owl large enough to fly away a child or a dog. Owl seems almost a bogeyman ta the Apache, though summa them tales are a bit too tall, if ya get my drift. But there seems a thread of truth. Enough ta make me believe in its existence."

He raised an eyebrow at the tale of Longley. "From Texas, eh? Just one more reason a Ranger'd wanna see 'em brought ta justice."

”I don’t rightly know if you can kill La Lechuza. She’s something that is eternal...part of the spirit world. But it’s said that you can imprison her again. Trap her deep in the earth, where she sleeps.”

He tosses his smoke into the fire. ”But I reckon Murphy’s gonna have to be handled one way or another. When anyone climbs up into Capitan Pass, he knows. Last time I’d worked up the courage to go up there, see if I could the place where the Owl Witch came up out of the ground, soon as I started up, one of the warriors found me, told me that that those damned black weeds had started cropping up all over Lincoln. Chokin’ out peoples’ crops.”

”The Owl Witch’s heart rests in High Lonesome,” Roving Wolf says, ”My people have told tales of her last coming for many winters. It can be found and put to rest. But Murphy...I believe that he did not survive going up into the mountains. He was given life again by the witch, and now he walks the earth without fear of age or disease. But his survival is tied to hers. If she sleeps, he ceases to be.

“He only walks at night now. Like her, he needs blood to remain alive...and powerful.”

"All right, maybe I'm slow on th' draw an' ya already cover'd it, but how do ya send a  critter like that ta sleep?  Ah guess a lully bye won't get 'er done."  Kansas Kate asked, a bit more patient since they had answered her question, in a roundabout way.

On the ride back, Dr. Wayland was, at first, perfectly willing to chat with Cooper or whomever.  But somewhere along the way he became very distracted.  His conversation faltered as he began thinking of something else.  Whatever it was quickly occupied his full attention.  He began muttering to himself, some of it began to seem almost like a dialogue.  His pocket notebook appeared in his hand and he made notes and sketches in a rather manic fashion.  Somehow, the odd man managed to keep his horse moving along with the others.  Or the horse managed to stay with the rest.

When they reached the camp, the scientist slid ungracefully from the saddle, still looking over his scribbled notes.  He tugged down his bulky saddlebags with a grunt and stumbled over to a spot a bit away from the rest.  Any inquiries about his behavior were summarily ignored.  He settled in to dig out various oddments from his bag and began piecing something together.  As he worked, his muttered dialogue continued.  At least now it seemed positive.  He was smiling at any rate.  A wild and creepy, satisfied looking smile.

"Yes...  Yes... That's /it/...," he tinkered with wires and small mechanisms.  These were fixed to a complex arrangement of thin metal laths, leather buckles, and springs.  He fiddled.  He changed this and that.  There were buzzing sounds.  Clicking sounds.  He was forced to shuck off his coat while he strapped the contraptions onto his legs and fed wires through tubing to a disc shaped clockwork device hanging on his belt.  Very similar to parts of lightning gun.

Dr. Wayland stood suddenly, quickly checking over everything one last time.  He then toggled a switch on the belt device.  With a buzz and a click, the leg contraptions suddenly extended and pushed him up from the ground.  He suddenly stood over a foot taller on springy, curving metal stilts.  He laughed, far too loudly, bouncing from foot to foot for a moment.  He then hit the switch again and the stilts snapped back up along the back of his leg and dropped him back to earth, "Ha!  Electromagnetic activation!  Of course...of course...  It really does solve the storage issue...  Weight seems much better...  No damage to my calf this time, so the angle is finally right...  Almost comfortable!  HA!" The switched was flipped again and the springy stilts pushed him back up again, where he balanced in an odd bent-knee crouch.

He is, of course, oblivious to how this might interrupt the ongoing conversation...

He pulled out a copy of Fugitives from Justice in the Confederacy, and nodded as he listened along, closing it back up.

"Putting a stop to Longley, or better yet, bringin' him in would be highly valued by the government of Texas, the Confederacy, and the Rangers organization for certain. Of course, if we can't bring him in, then...I suppose that's that. But I'd glad to be able to report that he's no longer a thorn in my side."

"I suppose that means that the less blood we spill until this is wrapped, the better off we are - and I think if we don't do the putting the Owl Witch heart to sleep part soon, there'll be more blood shed. Just because we took a couple high card outta his deck don't mean Murphy's gonna cash in his chips and turn tail. So to Kansas Kate's question," and he directed his question to both Roberts and the natives gathered there.

"How do we put the Owl Witch to bed?" If they could put her to sleep for now, when they were all done he could maybe get a team out from Roswell to see if they couldn't fix her for good and all.

Shabbakasha takes a carved wooden pipe from a large pouch on his belt. He begins to methodically fill it with tobacco. ”The stories of the last coming of the witch say that those who sent her away did so by going into the earth, into the wound in the mountain that was made when she climbed out into the place of the living.”

“It is said that the braves who reached that place and climbed down into the dark found her heart, wrapped up in the roots of the living earth. It was in that way that she was taking from the land, drawing the life from it. They cut her heart free and her grip on the hills and the mountains became weak, and she fell asleep again.”

He looks from Kate to Lee. ”It is said that many warriors lost their lives making the journey to the witch’s heart. Many that were brave fell to the darkness.”

"Well that's that that then."  Kansas Kate replied laconically, she really had no other questions at the moment, but maybe the others did.  She paused, stared out at the others.

"Damn. I was hopin' ya were gonna say ta shoot it with magic bullets." Albert frowned. "When ya say that they fell ta the darkness, do ya know what sorta darkness claimed 'em? Or are there any rumors or legends?"

"Well, it sounds like what needs to be done is up on High Lonesome. Only problem is, I'll need someone who knows the terrain as a guide, and maybe some idea of what the Owl Witch's heart looks like. It wouldn't hurt to have a few more folks as crazy as I am, either," he said.

"Roberts, how long do you reckon it'll take to get up there, and could you be the guide?"

It slowly dawned on Wayland that they had come here for a purpose....  Discussion...  That discussion.  /That/ discussion.  He flipped the switch again and the stilts sprang away for a final time, dropping him to the ground in a rather ungainly manner.  The scientist began to walk to join the others, stumbled a bit with the new contraptions on his legs, but made it eventually.  By the time he makes it to the firelight, the happy joy of successful creation had left him and he looked altogether morose.  Which, given the subject matter, was not entirely unreasonable.  He offered Lee a wan nod at the need for a few more folks.  Crazy ones preferred.

Roving Wolf smiles at Cooper’s words. ”Young warrior, all that matters is that the heart is freed from the roots it has claimed. How it is done is left up to those brave enough to seek it out.”

His smile fades. ”The witch is not one of the living. She is a spirit of death. Of endless hunger. Her home is with those who were ruled in life by desires that destroyed them...them and others. Those dead, they are hers to call forth. The ones  that know no rest. It is they that the people fought long ago on the mountain.”

Despite the gravity of the discussion, some of the Apache warriors that are seated at the campfire find themselves distracted by Dr. Wayland’s newest invention. Some are amazed, others amused. A few exchange whispers as the bounty hunter rejoins the gathering.

”I’ll take you up there,” Roberts tells Lee. ”If this can all be stopped, it’s right that I be part of it. I reckon it’s the least I can do, given how I lived in years past. You and whoever’s goin’ up with you needs to be prepared. It’s two days to reach High Lonesome. More if the snow’s gotten fierce up there. Anyone who comes along needs to be sharp. Once it’s known what we’re about, we’ll have plenty of trouble.”

He grimaces. ”I don’t know what you think about this, Ranger. But you might consider tellin’ those Regulators that you’re tryin’ to shut Murphy down, once and for all. I’m not keen on them goin’ up Capitan, but if they could be convinced to keep an eye on Lincoln, in case that bastard tries to take his fury out on the people there...I figure you could trust those boys to help keep the town safe. They may be hot headed, but they don’t want to see innocent folks hurt.”

Kearney opens her tobacco poke, then frowns when she finds it empty. Closing it, she says, ”I’d like to ride up there with ya’ll, if no one objects.”

Jacinta snorted at Albert's comment, hoping much the same.  Bullets had always solved most of her problems in the past.  As she pulled a small case from her vest, she nodded at Roberts' wisdom.  "A good idea, nagual.  If what you say is true, and there is a connection between Murphy and the Owlwitch, then he'll know that we're after her and will try to make trouble.  We can't leave the citizens unprotected.  They've been through too much already."

Opening the case, she offered one of her cigarillos to Aileen.  "Already seen you handle yourself, so no objections from me, chica," she told the mustanger.

Albert nodded at the response from Roving Wolf. "So more walkin' dead. And we need ta bring an axe or somethin'." Albert wasn't exactly formulating a plan, per se, but was certainly thinking about the best way to deal with the dedders.

Mostly, he decided to just toss Bryan at the bad guys. Maybe shoot a few of the more ornery ones.

He nodded at the volunteer. "The more of the livin', the merrier."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

"That's not a bad idea. I was hoping our efforts would keep Murphy sufficiently distracted so as to ensure that he didn't get up to any mischief down here, but I suppose it ain't a bad idea to have a backup plan. That said, this ain't my patch, so to speak and I don't want to run completely roughshod over the local law. Most of them may be corrupt, but not all of them. Deputy Bauer, would you approve of this plan, to rely on the Regulators to counter Murphy while we're up on the mountain?"

”I appreciate that,” Kearney tells Castillo, gratefully accepting a cigarillo and lighting it with a branch from the fire. As she does, she gives Cooper a nod of thanks.

Bauer grins. ”Well, I can’t rightly promise that the new sheriff would agree with me, but from where I’m sittin’, askin’ a group of men who’ve already been deputized to watch after the people of Lincoln seems like a sensible plan to me. Seein’ as I intend on makin’ that climb with ya’ll, I’m not gonna be there to lend a hand. And knowin’ what I know of some of my fellow deputies, I’d put a lot more faith in Bonney’s bunch.”

"Well then, I think we have the makings of our next course of action."

When a moment allowed, he moved to speak to Aileen. "Miss Kearney," he said, tipping his hat respectfully.

"I couldn't help overhear your conversation earlier, and I wanted to set you at ease. There's two sides to this conflict, and it ain't blue and gray. You and I, we're on the side of regular folks and on the other side there's much worse - Longleys and Owl Witches and only God knows what else. Do what you came here to do. You won't face any opposition from me. My mandate is restorin' peace in these parts. We can talk about the jurisdiction Longley gets to hang in when we get to that part, but until then, you don't have to tip toe around me." He extended a hand to her.

Kearney takes the offered hand, giving Lee a firm shake. ”Thank you, Ranger. I truly appreciate that.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t give a damn where Longley hangs, just so long as I can say for certain he can’t hurt anyone else. We manage that, I’ll be more than satisfied. I reckon those back east will be to.”