The war had been tough everywhere, race riots in the east, government set dictators in the South, bloodthirsty guerillas in the middle.  The savagery knew no bounds, the war tore apart cities, towns, families.

The war wasn't the concern of this hunting party however, they'd come together to hunt the things that had laid hidden in the shadows for so long, the things that had crept from their caves, rotted logs and basements in the blood and mud and grime of the war.  In places where a body wouldn't be missed.

Tales of cannibals had brought them to Branson, 10 days hard ride from St Louis.

It was deep in what was Confederate Guerilla territory not that long ago and the look and disposition lead manyof the locals to speculate they were bounty hunters working for the federal government.  Information would be hard to come by but no one would go looking for a fight with them, even the dandiest amongst them still looked dangerous and the civilians here had seen enough bloodshed for a lifetime in the last few years.  Normally they rode in a pack of 6, same number it takes to carry a coffin. Their rifleman hadn't made it through the past encounter, maybe he shouldn't have still worn his Berdan Sharpshooters coat this far west, maybe he should've known when to shut his fool mouth.  They'd be looking for a replacement as they sought out their next quarry.

They party arrives in Branson about 2 hours before sundown on the eastern side of West Walnut Street.

Refer to Branson Map in Game Maps

Nathaniel pulled up with the others and took in what there was to see of Branson from their vantage point.

He took advantage of that moment to stretch in his saddle.  They'd been riding most hours the sun was up for enough days that he was actually looking forward to getting to business.

Nathaniel's preferred method of transportation was his own two feet.  He could ride but did not consider himself a master horseman, or the type that could travel from sabbath to sabbath in a saddle with hardly more than a handful of moments with their feet out of the stirrups and on the ground.

"I'd say a drink's in order."  He suggested.

"Can't say how much use any honest folk'll be, but might be we overhear somethin'."

In reply to Nathaniel Miller (msg # 2):

"Lets get our lies straight gents. How about we're indeed bounty hunters. Lies works best when they have kernel of truth.  We rode from St Louis where we turned in a bounty and we are riding towards Dallas because we have reason to believe our next bounty is hiding around there.  We have no real business in Branson but we never close for business for a smaller job on the side"

"Jeremiah, Billy i'm thinking of you but maybe you all have something to chime in, some knowledge of open bounties

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
requesting a law roll from the party gamerunner?

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might help us.  A bounty we turned in for a colored person might help swing local sentiments that are likely still Confederate towards us,  whereas having turned in a  kidnapper or a rapist might convince a saddened father, mother, sister or brother to approach us with a missing person story that could be a clue to this cannibal ... ahem" is looking for a word "cabal"

"How does that sound ?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:29, Sat 03 Oct 2020.

In reply to Moises Shivers (msg # 3):
Moises and anyone else that might have heard about a bounty or potential for one.

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Make a Law+Intelligence roll Diff 7, we will see what you might know.

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In reply to Gamerunner (msg # 4):

Jeremiah Silver rolled 1 success using 3d10 with the World of Darkness 3rd ed, Specialised system with a target of 7, rerolling 10s ((6,10(+4),4)).

Truly where does one find such a group of individuals. I can think of several possibilities. a dried up local Mine perhaps, or a new "congregation" of believers moving westward. or Just your runof the mill vampire scum hoping to make a new home. He pulled out a pistol and spun the cylinder. it spun rapidly and alost silently. Jerehmia was meticulous in cleaning and milling his guns and the parts were always lock tight and oved as silently as could be made. he was a quick draw, but not fast notably, his trick was in getting you to listen like a snake drawing you in til Bam - Jerehmiah ALWAYS shoots first.

William was on the same wave length as Nathaniel. City life was so much better than travelers.  Williams ass was completely numb. Sitting in one place for long periods of time was murder on his backside.  Also, thinking to himself a local saloon was a prime place to find info.  The more the whiskey flowed the more the info flowed. Of course if they were going to be in town for a while, hooking up with a young Miss or even better a young recently widowed Mrs. would be ideal.  Women gossip like the wind blows. They can't seem to help themselves.  Telling secretes and sharing more than they should is in their blood.  And William definitely knew how to persuade and young woman into giving up her secretes. Nevertheless they were only going to be here for a short time. A get in get out type of job was currently on the menu (to keep their lie in play). So in Williams eyes, the saloon was a safe bet for a starting point.  Besides what traveler doesn't stop in at the local saloon?
"I'm with Nathaniel.  I suggest we checkout the saloon and spark up some friendly conversations with some of the locals.  Lets see what their willing to talk about. You cant tell me there no one in there blaming themselves for the works of the devil. Someone trying to drown their sorrows, of loosing a loved one, in a bottle. But we are a team so who else has got a suggestion?"

Reholstering his pistol, Silver said to Billy, "I'm right behind you as usual, No need for lies 'shine, when your truth is so close to reality that one line blends right into another"

Too early for a drink, but never for a lie.

Nothing like saying you're rounding up a colored man to win over the locals. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Crooked Kane knew it was a good idea. A great one even. Nothing set minds at ease like a brown man going after one of his own. Perhaps the term was "unbiased", but really, it was simply directed fears.

Before his horse even stopped, Crooked Kane had already begun rolling his own cigarette, sparking it by the time Moonshine finished the word "cabal". He also flipped his poncho back down to obscure his leather vest, bullet-loaded bandoleer, and the guns that were holstered about his hips.

"Well fellas..." He blew out smoke through his nostrils. "You know how much we love mingling with civilians." He threw a skewed grin as he trotted ahead, hiding the spark of sorrow that effervesced at the thought of their shooter. They'd been a good shot. It was only unfortunate their words didn't land as well as their rifle.

But unlike Moonshine, his jest wasn't all of a lie. It touched on the truth when it came for everyone's inherent need for companionship. As crooked as he was, he always sought to replace the hole in his heart that his family once filled. He just didn't know he did that yet.

While they pondered on bounties, Kaneenawup kept his eyes peeled for things that stretched beyond the mundane.

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
OOC: May I request a roll to notice if there has been anything of note with the occult in the area?

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      I'm goin' t' head over to the Post Office, check for posters.
Jerehmiah brushed off his vest and checked his pocked wath and headed off toward the middle of town.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:44, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

In the post office on the Southeast corner of the 205 block (in red ink on the group 0 map), you find the following

Harvey Booth wanted for Larceny, Grand Larceny and 4 counts of Horse Thievery Reward $300 See Wallace Cochran for reward, Alive, and with the horses.

Joseph J Collier Wanted for Assault with intent to kill of M.G. Singleton $100 Dead or Alive

Sgt. Reuben Franklin U.S. Army Wanted for Murder of John M Brown, Killed during 4th of July Celebration   $200 Dead or Alive

The closest Saloon is on the Northwest corner of the 206 block (in red ink on the group 0 map) based on it's proximity to the railyard you expect the crowd to likely be rough and tired but of the type that a free drink and willingness to listen to a ramblin complaint might just get some useful information.

Hope he finds something good. By the time the group tied their horses off outside, Kane was saddle sore enough to groan as he took his first few steps. Riding was nothing like running trenches or rooftops. Between your horse and yourself, it felt like working for two.

But he couldn't shake that odd feeling, the sense of eyes that he couldn't see. It wasn't comfortable. It wasn't even a little bit funny. He looked North down the street, smashing his dust-crusted lids as though it'd help him see - sense - more clearly.

Kane did a mental weight check. Guns felt loaded. Like they always were. Maybe he could walk towards that impending feeling. The sense felt northward. He could give it a quick look.

But would any townies trust a dark stranger who didn't make their welcome at the watering hole?

Kane grunted. He'd look onto it later. First, he'd wait for someone with more of a mouth than he to walk first through the door.

    Silver cought up with the group as they aproached the saloon. He filled them in on the fact that nothing was posted unless'n they wanna get some easy money. But nothing like they usually were aater.

The saloon was dingy and smelled, more than normal.  Maybe it was from how packed it was, maybe your senses were keener sleeping rough the last few nights.  There seemed to be little notice of the party as they walked in other than a couple of folks at a larger table finding they had somewhere else to be that wasn't here. It was a typical laborer's dive bar.  Cheap booze, cheap furniture.  But if you needed to get drunk enough to walk home without everything hurting it wasn't a bad place to stop.  The barman shouts at your table whiskey or beer.