First of all, the idea: It all takes part in the wild west. At the end of the civil war. Historical facts, but mixed with grim fantasy. Satanic worshipping is getting more popular. Daemons are to be summoned. Dead confederate and Union soldiers awakened to life by a sorcerous lunatic. Those of you who join, will play as an outlaw (yes an outlaw, no not a zombie soldier or daemon or law keeper, AN OUTLAW!). you must choose your religion. A faithful christian outlaw hunting for corruption and satanic influences, Or be a follower of Satan, practicing daemon worshipping, just slaughtering innocents for the fun of it and such. It's up to you how you will play
Posses of bounty hunters will try to hunt you down, trying to bring you to justice, or just for the money. wether as a misunderstood hero hunting for corruption, or as a mad man.
as a player you will have access to historical weapons and any fantasized weapons you come up with aiding you purging the witch, daemon, satanic murderer, etc(no lasguns or bazookas or something like that), or anything that helps you practicing the dark arts. Like silver bullets to kill summoned daemons etc. (No,there are not going to be vampires or werewolfs.)
don't get it wrong, If you play as a dark, evil satanic worshipper, you are not possesed by a daemon like in whfb or 40k. you just practice the dark arts. and no, noboday can be a daemon.
I got this Idea after reading 2 comic books from a series called Billy Wild, and just searching the web for any suitable artwork or possible avatars.
If you want to join
Then you need to come up with a character, just like mine.
Name: Billy Age: unknown. some say 18, others say 48 and even others say he is 109 years old and that he is gifted immortality from Satan. Equipment: 2 engraved colt peacemakers, Grimoire of daemons, lasso, Knife, Henry Repeater rifle, Dynamite, match sticks, a survival peck stored away on his horse. Mount: A black horse with red glowing eyes, called 'Lucifer' Faith: Satanic. Biography: there is not much known about billy's youth. He grow up as a son of a hatter, and Billy followed his fathers profession. he continued to make hats (hence his eccentric hat) until his family was murdered by a trio of catholic priests and their crazed followers, because his family was said to practice dark arts. The priests burned his house, but billy had enough time to recover some items, including the Grimoire of daemons. The grimoire is said to contain all known names of daemons and hellspawn, and how to summon them. he recovered other items, but of no note. Billy became an anarchist and a follower of the dark arts, just like his family. He almost never puts off his hat. being a hatter, he made a hat, and then combined a daemon with his new made hat. when he has hat on, and that is always, you can see nothing of his face. Only his white eyes without pupils. Many were fooled by this, thinking he is blind. In fact he has excellent eyesight. besides his eyes you can also see his jagged scar smile. when bonding the daemon with his hat. (because of this, his face is shadowed by darkness. the bonding did not give the hat his own will, only the effect of shrouding his face.) of course their was a blood offer needed to do this. His own blood was needed. He cut open his cheeks starting from both his mouth edges, and ending behind his ears. And now he literally has a smile 'till behind his ears. A sadistic smile that is. To make him look like a satanic worshipper even more, he tattooed a pattern across his chest. however, nobody knows what this pattern stands for. Appearence:
events wil be green player evevnts will be red
I will draw you a map of the main place of events. A town called Waste-town. The town is divided into 2 parts. a part where corruption, daemon summoning, cheating, drinking, murdering etc takes place. (dubbed the 'Satanic Part') and a part where fervent catholic faith prevails.
so, that was the idea. Now it's up to you wether you join or not. (please do, unlike my other RPG, I did put a lot of thought on this one.)
Name: Preacher
Age: 30ish
Equipment: 2 Remington "outlaws" .45 cal pistols,1 Winchester rifle,1 sawed off double barrel .12 gauge,1 Bowie knife,1 Derringer,2 bottles of Holy water,1 Bible,Crucifix,rations,water,rope,photo,misc.
Mount: A Pale horse
Faith: Catholic
Biography: Not much known about the Preacher,a quite brooding man,zealously hunts down and destroys the "devils agents".
Has a huge burn/scar on right side of face he acquired when his "family" was killed by "agents of evil".
Searching for someone.
A basic idea of what "The Preacher" would look like.
oke so here is the map. Yes it is a bit rough, but it will do.
I will provide an explanation as well.
Note: the boundaries Waste-town are not on the picture. the town is actually bigger then what I provide of the town. But all the buildings of note are visseble on this map. The rest is just normal housing and shops.
Purple: the catholic church
red: Satanic temple
blue: Saloon/ gambling den/ brothel/Safehouse/ hotel (yes, this building is all I summed up)
Yellow: Provision store
Green: weaponshop; guns/blades/ammo/etc. all your needs for shooting and hacking.
The Brown line: the road of division; divides the catholic and satanic parts of the town. Right part = satanic. Left part= catholic (obvious!)
the grey lines: roads and squares.
The temple and church are both very important places. Weapons get blessed, daemons get summoned (in case of the temple), angels and saints could be called upon, etc
Name: Shaun 'prairie dog' Porter
Age: 54
Equipment: three .45 Colt revolvers with extended barrels, Buffalo gun, rations, water canteen filled with port, Dustcoat and hat, reading glasses.
Mount: Chestnut mare laden down with various saddlebags.
Faith: Doesn't talk about his faith.
Biography: Shaun is an impressive gunslinger, the fastest man to the draw nine times out of ten. Locales believe he threw his lot in with the devil in order to become so unnervingly fast. Shaun has a thick handlebar moustache and is slightly on the chubby side. His face is coloured from the drinking of large quantities of alcohol in him time. Despite being outlawed in many towns, he's normally welcomed closer to the frontier, on account of his legendary (even more so than his gun skill) ability to weave tales. A naturally charitable man, Shaun will generously over pay for his meals and drinks, which quells any suspicions people have for him.
Name: Alex 'Ghost' Grannell
Age: 21
Equipment: Carcano Modello 1891, 'Payback' a special Schofield Revolver, A small bible and a small water flask.
Mount: Jet black horse called 'Skippy'
Faith: Christian
Bio: Alex was a good boy, growing up on his father's farm, it was here Alex learnt the tricks of the trade. One day Alex was out hunting when he heard screaming and smoke, Alex galloped down to the farm to see vandals burning his farm. Alex used his hunting rifle to kill them but the law is now after him for murder, Alex had time to grab his Fathers revolver and a bible.
Picture:
glad to have you along Ghosty! you too alex!
Ghosty: "doesn't talk about his faith". "he threw his lot in with the devil". I take he is on the bad side? Like me, an evil mad man?
I'll join. Btw, is there a name for the town, cause I didn't see one.
Name: Cuthbert Edward Chambers
Age: 24
Armaments: LeMat Revolver, Colt Single Action Army, Bowie Knife, Rook's Skull
Mount: None.
Faith: "God don't give a spit bout us down here. It's up to the people to provide their own justice."
Bio: A former Confederate soldier, Cuthbert lost his faith early in the war, amoungst the bloodshed and butchering.
His unit was infamous for slaughter of civilians, and while witnessing one such massacre, Cuthbert snapped. While the other men slept that ngiht, Bert awoke, and
began his path to justice. By the time morning came, no taps were played. Cuthbert headed out, his quest for justice far from over.
Throughout the rest of the war, Bert joined up with other units, killing those he found to have commited grave misdeeds. Now wanted by the men who saw his brand of justice,
and by the authorities for his so called 'Repentance Quest'.
Neither the law nor other outlaws could stop him. But a short time to lay low in Brynn Sturgis just might...
@Scrazza - Some of its just rumour. People suspect him on account of his supernatural ability to shoot. This guy is the ricochet king! He's not evil, though as we will find out, he's not the jovial story teller that people believe.
^ the only reason why I am asking is that most people here have not given a clear faith. I designed this one to eventually let the catholics and satanic followers fight against each other in a struggle to take 'waste-town' (here you go GES). Ghosty and GES are not Catholic or satanic, so this is difficult for me to GM this. if you both don't want to be any of the 2 faiths that are given, you could just say in what part of the town you shelter. The catholic side or the satanic side.
Name: Gregorio "Greg" Machiotti Age: 25 Armaments: 2 Schofield revolvers, Spencer Repeating Rifle, a silver cross necklace, and an "Arkansas Toothpick". Mount: Chestnut Budyonny named "Bella" Faith: Catholic Bio: The son of 2nd generation immigrants, his parents left him at the door of a local orphanage because they could not take care of him. He learned the faith from the nuns that ran the orphanage and left it at 12 years of age. He joined the Confederate Navy as a powdermonkey and learned markmanship from the soldiers that were ferried on his ship. At age 14 he survived the sinking of the ship he was on and left the military alogether and found a rifle on a corpse ridden battlefield, the rifle he used to hunt to survive until he reached another town. At age 20 he left for the west carrying the same rifle he had first found and two revolvers he had acquired in town. His reasons for leaving the west was his conviction of theft and murder, the theft was a wrongful conviction while the murder was done in revenge against the man who had convicted him.
He now plies the west to hide from any posses and to get a new life as he has done numerous times before.
Usually a nice and easy going fellow, until he gets set off. He does not believe in violence against women or children and is unlucky with the ladies.
Appearance: http://comicmastersonline.com/shop/images/DARK%20TOWER%20FALL%20II.jpg He usually wears a bandana over his face even in town to cover his mouth and the fact that he is missing an incisor he lost in a fight. That's what he says anyways, it was actually from a woman he made a move on striking him with a cast iron skillet.
I would imagine that both ghosty & Scouts characters,while not "Christian/Catholic" ,are more of the "not evil,but not christian" archetype,and would settle on the "Catholic" side of town (which has a saloon,brothel and casino,so can't be too dogmatic) as they are clearly not "Satanic".
Also,their "lack of faith" could make for some interesting "Battles for their souls" further into the RP.
I'm noticing many people are choosing artwork from The Dark Tower series. Anybody fans like me, or no?
Also: Waste Town sounds kinda dull imo, but other then that, seem slike a pretty solid backstory and map you've providided.
My character lives on the Catholic side, in the saloon.
Golden Eyed Scout wrote:I'm noticing many people are choosing artwork from The Dark Tower series. Anybody fans like me, or no?
Also: Waste Town sounds kinda dull imo, but other then that, seem slike a pretty solid backstory and map you've providided.
My character lives on the Catholic side, in the saloon.
I read some of the Dark Tower novels many years ago,thought they were pretty good.
Also, "Waste town" could be the "unofficial" name of the town,sort of like Detroit is called "The Motor City",if you follow my meaning.
Golden Eyed Scout wrote:I'm noticing many people are choosing artwork from The Dark Tower series. Anybody fans like me, or no?
Also: Waste Town sounds kinda dull imo, but other then that, seem slike a pretty solid backstory and map you've providided.
My character lives on the Catholic side, in the saloon.
I read some of the Dark Tower novels many years ago,thought they were pretty good.
Also, "Waste town" could be the "unofficial" name of the town,sort of like Detroit is called "The Motor City",if you follow my meaning.
Eh.. will have to brush up on my history of that era.. including weapons.. before joining. Anyone know any decent sources of the information I require? "I'll make it worth ye time"
"How?"
"I won't blow yer 'ead off with ma futuristic grenade laser shotgun tank shootin' gatling gun."
"Sounds fair.."
Darkvoidof40k wrote:Eh.. will have to brush up on my history of that era.. including weapons.. before joining. Anyone know any decent sources of the information I require? "I'll make it worth ye time"
"How?"
"I won't blow yer 'ead off with ma futuristic grenade laser shotgun tank shootin' gatling gun."
"Sounds fair.."
Colt Single Action Army and repeater rifles sounds about right. Course you could always just google it...
Well, FYI everyone, my character will not be religious as such, he'll be another "in-betweener" . Bit of a rogue/mercenary, going where he wants and just getting buy - living by the sword (and you know what they say about those that live by it... ).
This sounds like a brilliant RP, I couldn't resist.
Name: Michael Macleod
Age: 39
Equipment: Smith & Wesson Army No 2 revolver, Spencer 1865 Carbine, Colt Revolving Rifle Model 1855,
blessed silver bullets (12 magazines), flask of holy water, $250, silver celtic cross
Mount: Grey mare called Succubus
Faith: Christian (Caribbean)
Biography: Born in Scotland in 1845
Kidnapped by press gang at age 10
Shipped to Jamaica, escaped and fled to Haiti
Left Haiti for the US in 1860
Joined the Unionists in Lousiana
Headed west with a wagon train in 1867
"Violence against the innocent isn't worth it. Destruction of the guilty isn't my job. But I enjoy it always."
Defends the innocent and bystanders (not the same thing) to the point of fanaticism but is level headed and quite charming.
Travels with a female Houngon (practioner of white Voodoo) called Marie Thibideau
well, it looks like you are all outlaws on 1 side(Christian), and I am on the bad side (the only one so it seems.).
"I'lll use ma knowledge of the dark arts to summon daemons, take control of anyone in your vicinity with ma voodoo magiks, send a whole battalion of zombie confederates, and do everything in ma power to defeat ya'll catholics. Bwuah bwuah BWEAH HAAAAAA !!!! " a quote from Billy
this might be easier for this RPg, and probably more fun this way. me, an evil, genius mad man(and also the DM), against you lot.
anyways, that means 6 players on the catholic side, me on the 'Satanic' side, Darkvoid yet to join ( I hope on my side.), and that makes it 6 vs 2, or 7 vs 1. Thats 8 players in total. And 8 players is the maximum.
Scrazza wrote: take control of anyone in your vicinity with ma voodoo magiks
Point to note, voodoo isn't dark magic, the nature of the energy is determined by the moals and intentions of the practioner.
If Dean Koontz is right, a white voodoo user is a Houngon, while the black voodoo is called a Bocor IIRC
yes we will begin shortly. it may be today or tomorrow. The 1st couple of post will be introductions. After a while we will begin for real, starting with day 1
Scrazza wrote:anyways, that means 6 players on the catholic side, me on the 'Satanic' side, Darkvoid yet to join ( I hope on my side.), and that makes it 6 vs 2, or 7 vs 1. Thats 8 players in total. And 8 players is the maximum.
so no more new players.
Ohh it's so so hard to resist being evil. But I must. The urge to kill zombies and demons is grater than the need to spawn them.. plus I spent 3 hours this morning (5-9ish AM) in my tent thinking up a character because it was raining (still is, will be all day. Still wish you were on that British holiday, FITZZ? ).
Here's my character
Name: Ricky McNeil Age: 25 Equipment: A single Colt Revolver - passed down for three generations in his family - with 30 extra rounds on him (and some more in his horse baggage), a Canteen, $50 and some food (stored on his horse) Mount: Young, but full grown brown male horse called JJ (Jimmy-Jack) Faith: "Let the good times roll, in case God don't show." Biography: Born to a tavern owner and long-time (but retired) gunslinger Daniel "Danny" McNeil when he was age 33, Ricky worked in his fathers' business until he was eighteen, learning as much about serving drinks as he did about whipping a pistol from his belt, he left to go and live out in the wild west and have some fun, but he hopes to return to the family business one day when he's "an' old fat bugger" (like his father did before him, and his father's father before - and so on ). Him and his mate decided to call themselves The Wild Westonnaires, and the duo's name is woven onto the back of their leather jackets in this pattern (without the lines): ___The ___Wild Westonnaires His Chinese (or Japanese? He never bothered to ask) mate; Tao Li (he sometimes calls him Tali (pronounced Tay-Lee) is the second of the duo - they were friends since childhood. Appearence: 5 ft 10 inches tall. See pics for rest
On his own: With Tao (looking slightly drunk - not particularly unusual ):
Just thought I'd post all the characters for everyone. Colour coding fun! :d
SCRAZZA
Name: Billy Age: unknown. some say 18, others say 48 and even others say he is 109 years old and that he is gifted immortality from Satan. Equipment: 2 engraved colt peacemakers, Grimoire of daemons, lasso, Knife, Henry Repeater rifle, Dynamite, match sticks, a survival peck stored away on his horse. Mount: A black horse with red glowing eyes, called 'Lucifer' Faith: Satanic. Biography: there is not much known about billy's youth. He grow up as a son of a hatter, and Billy followed his fathers profession. he continued to make hats (hence his eccentric hat) until his family was murdered by a trio of catholic priests and their crazed followers, because his family was said to practice dark arts. The priests burned his house, but billy had enough time to recover some items, including the Grimoire of daemons. The grimoire is said to contain all known names of daemons and hellspawn, and how to summon them. he recovered other items, but of no note. Billy became an anarchist and a follower of the dark arts, just like his family. He almost never puts off his hat. being a hatter, he made a hat, and then combined a daemon with his new made hat. when he has hat on, and that is always, you can see nothing of his face. Only his white eyes without pupils. Many were fooled by this, thinking he is blind. In fact he has excellent eyesight. besides his eyes you can also see his jagged scar smile. when bonding the daemon with his hat. (because of this, his face is shadowed by darkness. the bonding did not give the hat his own will, only the effect of shrouding his face.) of course their was a blood offer needed to do this. His own blood was needed. He cut open his cheeks starting from both his mouth edges, and ending behind his ears. And now he literally has a smile 'till behind his ears. A sadistic smile that is. To make him look like a satanic worshipper even more, he tattooed a pattern across his chest. however, nobody knows what this pattern stands for. Appearence:
FITZZ Name: Preacher Age: 30ish Equipment: 2 Remington "outlaws" .45 cal pistols,1 Winchester rifle,1 sawed off double barrel .12 gauge,1 Bowie knife,1 Derringer,2 bottles of Holy water,1 Bible,Crucifix,rations,water,rope,photo,misc. Mount: A Pale horse Faith: Catholic Biography: Not much known about the Preacher,a quite brooding man,zealously hunts down and destroys the "devils agents". Has a huge burn/scar on right side of face he acquired when his "family" was killed by "agents of evil". Searching for someone.
GHOSTY Name: Shaun 'prairie dog' Porter Age: 54 Equipment: three .45 Colt revolvers with extended barrels, Buffalo gun, rations, water canteen filled with port, Dustcoat and hat, reading glasses. Mount: Chestnut mare laden down with various saddlebags. Faith: Doesn't talk about his faith. Biography: Shaun is an impressive gunslinger, the fastest man to the draw nine times out of ten. Locals believe he threw his lot in with the devil in order to become so unnervingly fast. Shaun has a thick handlebar moustache and is slightly on the chubby side. His face is coloured from the drinking of large quantities of alcohol in him time. Despite being outlawed in many towns, he's normally welcomed closer to the frontier, on account of his legendary (even more so than his gun skill) ability to weave tales. A naturally charitable man, Shaun will generously over pay for his meals and drinks, which quells any suspicions people have for him.
ALExGRANNELL Name: Alex 'Ghost' Grannell Age: 21 Equipment: Carcano Modello 1891, 'Payback' a special Schofield Revolver, A small bible and a small water flask. Mount: Jet black horse called 'Skippy' Faith: Christian Bio: Alex was a good boy, growing up on his father's farm, it was here Alex learnt the tricks of the trade. One day Alex was out hunting when he heard screaming and smoke, Alex galloped down to the farm to see vandals burning his farm. Alex used his hunting rifle to kill them but the law is now after him for murder, Alex had time to grab his Fathers revolver and a bible. Picture:
GOLDEN EYED SCOUT Name: Cuthbert Edward Chambers Age: 24 Armaments: LeMat Revolver, Colt Single Action Army, Bowie Knife, Rook's Skull Mount: None. Faith: "God don't give a spit bout us down here. It's up to the people to provide their own justice." Bio: A former Confederate soldier, Cuthbert lost his faith early in the war, amoungst the bloodshed and butchering. His unit was infamous for slaughter of civilians, and while witnessing one such massacre, Cuthbert snapped. While the other men slept that ngiht, Bert awoke, and began his path to justice. By the time morning came, no taps were played. Cuthbert headed out, his quest for justice far from over. Throughout the rest of the war, Bert joined up with other units, killing those he found to have commited grave misdeeds. Now wanted by the men who saw his brand of justice, and by the authorities for his so called 'Repentance Quest'.
Neither the law nor other outlaws could stop him. But a short time to lay low in Brynn Sturgis just might...
Appearance.
HALONACHOS Name: Gregorio "Greg" Machiotti Age: 25 Armaments: 2 Schofield revolvers, Spencer Repeating Rifle, a silver cross necklace, and an "Arkansas Toothpick". Mount: Chestnut Budyonny named "Bella" Faith: Catholic Bio: The son of 2nd generation immigrants, his parents left him at the door of a local orphanage because they could not take care of him. He learned the faith from the nuns that ran the orphanage and left it at 12 years of age. He joined the Confederate Navy as a powdermonkey and learned markmanship from the soldiers that were ferried on his ship. At age 14 he survived the sinking of the ship he was on and left the military alogether and found a rifle on a corpse ridden battlefield, the rifle he used to hunt to survive until he reached another town. At age 20 he left for the west carrying the same rifle he had first found and two revolvers he had acquired in town. His reasons for leaving the west was his conviction of theft and murder, the theft was a wrongful conviction while the murder was done in revenge against the man who had convicted him.
He now plies the west to hide from any posses and to get a new life as he has done numerous times before.
Usually a nice and easy going fellow, until he gets set off. He does not believe in violence against women or children and is unlucky with the ladies.
Appearance: http://comicmastersonline.com/shop/images/DARK%20TOWER%20FALL%20II.jpg (Left as link as it stretches the page - Dark) He usually wears a bandana over his face even in town to cover his mouth and the fact that he is missing an incisor he lost in a fight. That's what he says anyways, it was actually from a woman he made a move on striking him with a cast iron skillet.
FALLEN_WOLFBORN Name: Michael Macleod Age: 39 Equipment: Smith & Wesson Army No 2 revolver, Spencer 1865 Carbine, Colt Revolving Rifle Model 1855, blessed silver bullets (12 magazines), flask of holy water, $250, silver celtic cross Mount: Grey mare called Succubus Faith: Christian (Caribbean) Biography: Born in Scotland in 1845 Kidnapped by press gang at age 10 Shipped to Jamaica, escaped and fled to Haiti Left Haiti for the US in 1860 Joined the Unionists in Lousiana Headed west with a wagon train in 1867
"Violence against the innocent isn't worth it. Destruction of the guilty isn't my job. But I enjoy it always." Defends the innocent and bystanders (not the same thing) to the point of fanaticism but is level headed and quite charming. Travels with a female Houngon (practioner of white Voodoo) called Marie Thibideau
Michael: Marie:
DARKVOIDOF40k (is awesome ) Name: Ricky McNeil Age: 25 Equipment: A single Colt Revolver - passed down for three generations in his family - with 30 extra rounds on him (and some more in his horse baggage), a Canteen, $50 and some food (stored on his horse) Mount: Young, but full grown brown male horse called JJ (Jimmy-Jack) Faith: "Let the good times roll, in case God don't show." Biography: Born to a tavern owner and long-time (but retired) gunslinger Daniel "Danny" McNeil when he was age 33, Ricky worked in his fathers' business until he was eighteen, learning as much about serving drinks as he did about whipping a pistol from his belt, he left to go and live out in the wild west and have some fun, but he hopes to return to the family business one day when he's "an' old fat bugger" (like his father did before him, and his father's father before - and so on ). Him and his mate decided to call themselves The Wild Westonnaires, and the duo's name is woven onto the back of their leather jackets in this pattern (without the lines): ___The ___Wild Westonnaires His Chinese (or Japanese? He never bothered to ask) mate; Tao Li (he sometimes calls him Tali (pronounced Tay-Lee) is the second of the duo - they were friends since childhood. Appearence: 5 ft 10 inches tall. See pics for rest
as for your link you provided for the second character: "Authorization Required
This server could not verify that you are authorized to access the document you requested. Either you supplied the wrong credentials (e.g., bad password), or your browser doesn't understand how to supply the credentials required."
LOL
nevermind, I now know it is a picture of jackie chan!
I hope those pics you provided are just to fill in blanks, dark. and I hope this one won't turn out like pelvic thrust RPG (ridiculous)
1st of, introductionary posts.
The stench would have been unbearable for someone outside 'hellhole'. 'Hellhole' was what the locals called the Satanic part of waste-town. Men, young and old were drumming at the bar while hookers were entertaining the mass of people at the saloon. 'The ugly mug'. The only Saloon in hellhole, was always crammed with people. Billy sat alone at a large round wooden table meant to have 6 people sitting around it. Nobody wanted to sit near Billy. He had a terrifying effect on most people. His white eyes and crooked scar-smile the only things visible past the shrouding darkness surrounding his face he was indeed not a pleasant sight. Billy was enjoying a glass of whisky. For over an hour he sat there, at HIS table at the Ugly Mug, just looking at the press of people. Billy saw a young man staring straight at him. The young man was also holding a glass of whisky. Clearly he was from out of town. He clearly neither know Billy nor his reputation. He told something to the man next to him while he was laughing. The other, older man gazed in Billy's direction, recognized Billy, and then went a different way.
Billy was still looking at the young man, who was coming his way. The lad had a brand new shofield revolver at his side, and had an amused smile on his face.
"Hey blind man, you look kinda lonesome here. I'll sit right here next to you. hold you company, hows that?" the lad said while he sat down next to billy. 'Blind man'. Now, everybody in the saloon now looked dumbly at the young lad, who noticed nothing of it. Billy was not amused. "Get your ass from that chair, and take your lemonade with you, youngster." was Billy's whispered reply. His voice was so soft that it sounded like a mere whisper. "As you wish..." said the youngster, barely 17 years old.
Before he left, he switched his almost empty glass of whisky with that of Billy, which was still almost completely filled, the lad really thought the man with the eccentric hat was blind. Billy was furious, but managed not to show it to anyone. At that last act of the young lad, Billy took 1 of his colts, placed the muzzle inside the young lad's ear with one swift motion, and then pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter flew out the lad's opposite ear together with the bullet. The lad dead at his feet, Billy was now somewhat 'happy' again. The mass of people inside the saloon all stood frozen, looking at the dead boy, not daring to look directly at Billy.
"Proceed." was Billy's quiet answer.
And with that, the drinking and laughing took up again, with Billy taking another sip of his whisky.
Those are the actual pictures. Chan was in the picture, I needed a reason for a chinese and/or Japanese man to be in it. Also, the second picture posted was not the original, but it works all the same.
Edit: I'm loving your character, Scrazz. Cookie for you for a well-written and widely accepted murder.
The gravel crunched under the worn down heel of his boots. He felt the fading sun pass over head, the heat of the day gradually passing as well.
The rook skull around his neck felt as though he had tied a struggling mare around his throat.
Bert turned suddenly, the revolvers drawing as he did so.
Five men mounted on horses, suddenly caught out in the open, spurred their rides on their prey.
Bert fired his Colt first, right handed, three rounds. The lead winged one man on a chestnut horse.
One of the men, riding a tall paint horse, drew a rifle, and fired. The round whizzed off and struck the sand five feet to Bert's left.
Bert trained his aim, and sqeezed the trigger. the horse took a round between it's eye, and the man was thrown off.
Bert tossed the Colt to his left hand, thoring the LeMat to his right simultaenously.
He squeezed the trigger twice, putting two round in the man on the chestnut horse he had injured.
Bert dove to the side, as the three other riders bore down onto him. Bert slid the Colt into it's holster, drawing rounds from his belt, flicking the LeMat's chambers open.
Two rounds flew in, and Bert came up into a crouch.
The three men left pursuing him had weapons drawn. Bert shifted aim from one to the other, looking each in the face.
He knew them. he'd put friends or family members of theirs in a pin box a few cities back.
One of the men took of his coat and hat, and hopped down to level with Bert.
"I'm gonna make you bleed like you made my brother."
"He bled like a stuck pig." Bert said. "Squeled like one too." He added. Every word was truth.
The man drew a knife. "I want you to squel like a pig now boy." he said angrily, and came in twith the knife.
Bert took the attack on his gun hand, the knife sliding along the barrel. Bert coked the trigger, and fired the central barrel. The shot took the man full in the chest, and he stumbled backwards.
His white cotton shirt was peppered and turning red. Bert didn't waste anytime. He shot both the other men ded with the remaining rounds in his gun.
Bert turned and continued walking. The rook skull was light again.
He could see a town a few miles away when he crested a hill. He hoped to make it there before nightfall.
Shaun leaned heavily back in his seat, shifting his weight to get comfy. A bottle of expensive liquor stood neatly on the table in front of him, as well as a pair of clean glasses. The barman always placed two glasses. People said it was because Shaun always attracted people to hear his tales, but it was much more personal than that. You had to know Shaun, and not Shaun's stories, to understand. He was pretty old for a man in America in these terrible times. It was widely regarded that you either had to be very lucky, or very, very tough to survive to the age of 40. To be getting onto 55 was practically unheard of. It was the stuff of rumours, and not all of them were friendly. But Shaun acknowledged this, and went through the motions. He raised his glass in the direction of a group of catholic priests, who were nursing their drinks at the bar.
"Gawd Bless." Shaun mumbled, before knocking back the drink in a single gulp. His eyes slightly glazed for a second, before he poured himself another glass.
Presently, a man, who wore what was clearly a military uniform at some point, wandred over, and sat down opposite Shaun.
" 'scuse me, is this seat taken?"
Shaun grinned, and slid the filled glass over to the newcomer.
"Why thank you."
Shaun filled the other glass and took a sip from it.
"So, you new to these parts?" he enquired to the ex soldier.
"Yes sir, just off the train today. Im here to seek my fortune. I was told you might..." he trailed off, obviously disconcerted by the steely gaze of some of the more adamant puritans within the bar.
Shaun smiled, and swallowed another glassful of liquor.
"I remember when i was like you. Was a good 30 years ago, if i recall correctly. Fresh owff the train, and looking for a good time."
At the soldiers look of extreme discomfort, he burst into laughter, its booming quietening the bar, as people craned their necks to listen into the tale.
"Not in that way, young man! No, I came to this town, in the prime of my youth, looking for adventure, and an adventure I did have!"
A young lady, cackled from the bar.
"Is this the one about the ferret in the trousers?" she laughed. There was a collective grin from the occupants of the bar, as each one recollected the tale.
"No its not Linda, this is the one you ain't heard of."
A new story was not unheard of, but it had been collectively thought of that the ones he hadn't told were the ones that were personal to him, and therefore the best. Word spread fast, and soon a good deal more people were entering the bar in anticipation. When the building seemed to reach the space limit, Shaun swigged from the bottle and began his tale.
"So as many people here know, I have travelled the breadth of America, seen the Plains Indian tribes of the Sioux, seen the Cannibal trail of the Donner party, and seen my fair share of horror. Nothing however, was gonna prepare me for what I saw in this town.
So, I came in this town, and Immediately headed for the nearest Bar. Now as that happens, it was this very bar, and this very table that I had my first drink. Don't look incredulously at me boy, I had a very sheltered lifestyle and didn't try alcohol until I hit this town. Anyways, the Barman, whom is the current landlords grandfather, saw me getting pretty drunk pretty fast, and put two an' two together. Instead of chucking me out onto the street with the rest of the paralytics, he kept me inside, gave me a bed and saw i didn't get into no trouble. Now, I thank him every day in my prayers (he winked slyly at a nearby Amish puritan, who slammed his drink on the bar and stalked out of the bar) as on that night the people from the bad side of town were out in force. Now I dunno the ins and outs, on account of being as drunk as a skunk, but I gather the 'bad' guys went on a rampage and murdered a lot o' people. Anyways, so Im woken up in the middle of the night by the barman's wife. She's crying and tellin' me that her 'usbands gonna go get himself killed defending the bar, and I gotta do what's right and help him out.
So I says to her "Ainent none o' my busyness." (smiles from his slurred accent all round) to whcih she slapped me round my face and tol' me "He saved you tonight. If you were outside you'd be dead." Now, summit struck a chord, so I muzzily got up and took my pistols(tapping the holsters strapped to his belt) and staggered downstairs. A couple of cloaked blokes were tryin' to break into the safe whilst a nother group had cornered the Barman. He was a wavin' his shotgun around but i dunno if he had any shells.
So, I makes the mistake of tryin' to reason with 'em. I says "You lot, clear owff or I'll get the Sherriff." There was some general sniggering if i recalls rightly, and one of 'em said that they'd killed him. So I says "Better make myself Judge Jury n' executioner then" and i shot 'em. Not one of them even got a chance to pull out their weapons. And that was in an alcohol addled state. Im still prowd of that to this day. So after that i staggered back owff to bed and slept deeply into the afternoon. When I wakes up Im met with cheers and slaps on the back, which I din't take to kindly on account o' the hangover.
Anyways, outside was a mess, and the 'bad' guys had murdered a good 30 people in the night, and mutilated the bodies in the streets. I remember going out there an' thinking it looked like hell (hands went through the motions, of forming a symbol of the cross on his chest). So I left in the afternoon and went to find my adventure."
The assembled crowd were collectively silent. Most of the people here had heard of the Waste town massacre from their parents, whom in most cases had heard it from theirs. Shaun was teary eyed for a second, before he swigged from the bottle again. The ex soldier smiled politely, before asking "So, how do i go about finding an adventure sir?"
Shaun sat where he was for a moment, then said simply
"Don' fall in with the wrong sort, always protect your local watering howle, and don' go looking for one. Works a charm every time."
The soldier smiled again, obviously disappointed he didnt get what he had wanted, but, recognising he was talking to a pillar of the community, he smiled again and offered to pay for Shauns drink.
"Can't be having with that lad, you keep your money."
"One more thing sir."
"Hmm?"
"Did you really shoot a dozen people without them being able to shoot back, or was that an exaggeration."
Shaun grinned a brown toothed grin. He grabbed up the bottle on the table and threw it backwards over his head. In a blur of movement his gun was out, a shot had been fired, and the weapon was back in it's holster. the bottle shattered before it hit the ground. And through this display Shaun hadn't even looked in it's direction.
The soldier, slightly awed, grinned lamely and walked out of the bar. Shaun settled back into his seat, and a new bottle of liquor was placed on his table.
Michael sat in the seat of the wagon as the horizon dipped lower towards the sea over the hills. His Spencer sat in his lap and it was fully loaded.
Better not to take chances out in the bleak wilds of the West. Not all those that walked the night were natural. The wagon train was heading south
west along the coach roads towards Gallup, or what remained of Gallup anyhow and the wheels clicked and jerked along on the dusty road of stone.
Marie sat silently behind him, snuggled up in a blanket. She had been performing an exorcism the night before and hadn't yet woken up. He sighed and
then smiled at her peaceful form, white eyes wide open and blank. He had seen it before. She would be better in sunlight.
Alex looked up at the hot midday sun and took a swig from his flask. Skippy neighed and Alex ran a hand through his jet black mane. "Not long now Skip" Alex said reassuringly, he looked at the horizon and saw the dark shadows of the town. He heard a cry and a scream for help, Alex pulled Skippy around and saw a young woman running towards him. Alex pulled his bandanna over his mouth and galloped towards her. He saw two bandits trying to rob the poor lady, Alex pulled out Payback and took aim. With two clean shots they both hit the floor, Alex jumped off his horse and walked towards her. He holstered the pistol and took his hat off, "The name's Alex M'am.". The woman was sobbing uncontrollably, Alex put his arm around her and comforted her. Alex Put her on Skippy and rode towards the nearest town, maybe someone could help her...
The dim light of the early morning sun shown through a dingy window pane,illuminating the small bedroom in which The Preacher knelt silently at the side of his tattered bed.
The man remained motionless in silent prayer for near a half hour,final rising to his feet,he washed quickly and dressed.
The Preacher stepped to the foot of his bed and opened a small footlocker,inside sat his weapons,he made the sign of the cross over them "Bless these, the instruments of thy will" he spoke in a deep gravely voice.
Strapping his pistols on, he walked to a small stove and poured himself a cup of strong coffee,he sipped the steaming liquid and sighed.
Outside,the Preacher made his way to his small stable,he was greeted by Able,a town drunk,who at times would do odd chores for the Preacher,including feeding the Preachers horse.
"Morning Preacher" Able slurred,already a bit drunk, " I thought I might come round to see if yer hoss needed caring for?"
The Preachers eyes narrowed "No",he replied,walking past the man.
"Well then" Able continued "perhaps you could see it in yer heart to put a small down payment on my services...for the next time you'll be a needin them?"
"No" The Preacher said,continuing to walk away from the man.
Able hurried after Preacher,a begging tone entering his voice " But sir..it says right there in the Good Book that the Lord loves the cheerful giver.."
Preacher spun on the man quickly,grasping his face in one hard,leather covered hand,and pulling the blubbering drunk closer.
Ables bladder released ,as he stammered to apologize.
" Get out of my sight Able" Preacher lowly growled into the mans face and tossed him aside as though the drunk were a small child.
The Preacher entered his small barn,untethered his horse and climbed into the saddle,the horse trotted slowly from the barn and came to a halt above the crying drunkard who sat sniveling in the dooryard.
Preacher glared down at the man,disgust filling him.
" Go to the saloon Able" he said lowly " I may contact you there later...for now...I have something to attend to."
Before the drunkard could reply,Preacher tossed him a half dollar and galloped away.
"Bastard." the man whispered,wiping tears from his eyes and hauling himself to his feet " we'll just see how high and mighty you are...oh yes indeed we will."
good, everybody made his 1st post, except Dark, but I trust this will happen shortly, and Halonachos, whose cat done a bad thing with his laptop. Halonachos will post later on.
Ricky McNeil looked on - his view bobbing up and down in time with the clip-clop of his horses' bounding feet. The town ahead was as big as they get out in the wild west. His horse let out a little snort of tiredness, and Ricky moved his head closer to that of his mount. "Not long now, JJ ma mate, we just gotta get ourselves to that there town and find you some stables. Dontcha worry buddy, we'll both get us some nice meal 'n' drink when we're there." As if in response to his rider's promises, JJ picked up his pace slightly. "Thas it boy!" Ricky said, grinning wildly as he patted his horse affectionately. "Yeeeeeeeehawh!" "Those town folk better watch out, cause the Wild Westonnaire's are around!" "You got that right," came the agreement from Tao a few feet behind him, "what do you say to 'first one in the pub gets a free drink?" "An' their horse?" Ricky replied. "Both horses," came the blatently un-native reply from Tao in his comparatively quiet Chinese (or Japanese, was it?) accent. "C'mon, JJ, I know you want that free drink as much as I do, boy! Yeehah!"
His horse trotting up the main town road,Preacher observed the citizens as they went about their daily pursuits.
Many of the towns people would not look directly at the man,glancing from the corners of their eyes as he passed.
This didn't bother Preacher,on some level he enjoyed the fact that most of the town folk were afraid of him,though he would never admit it,he had little time to concern himself with such matters.
At last he reached his destination,a small orphanage near the church.
The children who were housed there were busy doing chores under the watchful eye of Miss Amanda,a pretty young woman who,along with Father Dailey,looked after the unfortunate youths.
Preacher nodded at Miss Amanda as he rode into the dooryard.
" Morning sir." Miss Amanda said,although she was a bit nervous,as she always was when Preacher was near.
" Morning Ma'am" Preacher replied,tipping his hat " Is Father Dailey available?"
" He's off to pick up a few dry goods from the store" Miss Amanda replied " He shouldn't be away for much longer..if you'd care to wait."
" No time Ma'am" Preacher said " But I suppose I could handle some of my business with you."
Miss Amanda looked warily at the man "Business?" she asked cautiously.
Preacher allowed a bare hint of a smile to cross his face,amused by the young woman's nervousness.
" Just see that he receives this" Preacher said,handing a small clothe sack down to Miss Amanda.
The woman's trembling hand fumbled the sack,spilling it's contents onto the ground,her eyes widened as she stared down at 20 silver dollars.
" For us..the children?" She spluttered.
" Um-Hmm" Preacher replied,a bit impatiently.
" God bless you" Miss Amanda said,tears forming in her eyes.
"Just see Father Dailey gets that" Preacher said,turning his horse to go.
" I will..I will " she called after him "and bless you and your kindness."
" Um-Hmm" Preacher replied,slowly ridding away.
As he reached the rickety fence bordering the orphanage,Preacher noticed a young boy of about twelve staring at him,Preacher brought his horse to a halt and stared back at the boy.
" You should be off to your chores." Preacher said.
" I done 'em" answered the boy " are you a priest?" he asked
" No." Preacher replied
" Didn't think so..I bet yer a killer huh?..bet you done shot down a whole bunch of men...Bang!!" the boy shouted,aiming his finger in imitation of a pistol at Preacher.
Preacher glared at the boy "You should go to your chores boy" he said.
" I done told ya..I did 'em" the boy said.
Preacher leaned from his saddle and slapped the boy smartly across the face,sending him sprawling onto his backside.
"Respect your elders son" Preacher said,still glaring at the boy.
"Yes..yes sir." the boy said holding his cheek gingerly.
Preacher road off shaking his head "Spare the rod and spoil the child." he thought to himself.
As the first rays of the sun pricked his eyes, Michael squinted into the hazy glare, but was smiling with quiet relief. The darkest
hour was always that before dawn, and he hated it.The creatures of the night always, or nearly always since last night, seemed
to try and pick a fight just before the sun rose and when Marie was at her weakest. With a gasp of air entering her lungs she
sat up and coughed loudly, drawing his attention and she smiled weakly at him. The exorcism the night before had taken a lot
out of her, multiple spirits always did.
"Michael, ow long fore we get to de next town?" Her strange accent and marginally bad english made him crack a warm smile.
"Well good morning Miss Thibideau. Care to sit out here in the sunrise?"
She grinned and climbed out of the back of the wagon, bathing her dark skin in the early light. It seemed to make her
glow with a pale aura, making Michael smile wider.
"Marie, the next town seems to be split between the people and the dark. Are you sure you want the wagon train to stop
there? I mean, we can keep on going if you wish mam?" She shook her head and he nodded.
"Three hours to the south-east. Little drinkhole called Waste Town. Appropriate in these times if you ask me." She
giggled from the seat.
"Well I suppose last night 'as shown me in a dif'rent light to de slave dey t'ought I was when we joined
up, ey Michael?" He grinned.
"Indeed Miss Thibideau, I do believe Mr Evans accidentally relieved himself during your performance."
She laughed hardly as the wheels skippedover more stones.
Billy sipped the last drop of his whisky left in his glass, the dead boy still at his feet. He got up and left, without paying. people didn't dare ask money from him. The last one that did now lies in a wooden box underneath the earth. outside 'the ugly mug' stood bunch of drunks who could not pay their tab, sobbing. Billy uttered 1 word, soft, but loud enough for the next man to hear.
"Lucifer."
Moments later, a pitch black horse with glaring red eyes came galloping down an alley towards billy. Lucifer wore a dark brown saddle. A Henry repeater riffle wrapped in cloth strapped securely on one side of the saddle. Lucifer hatled sideways in front of Billy, his breathing calm. Billy mounted, took the reigns, and started out of town, towards the swamp. Not only gators dwelled their, there were more deadly unnatural creatures. And above that, there lived another dreaded person. Billy bent over and muttered something in lucifers ear
Preacher rode from the orphanage,still slightly annoyed by the sassy mouthed boy.
" Young'uns these days need guidance" he thought to himself " guidance and the firm hand of discipline..other wise..well..they go astray."
Preacher found himself jolted from his musings by a high warbling scream.
A window above,on the third floor of the hotel overlooking the main town road exploded outwards.
Preacher glanced upwards,seeing the form of a young woman,her arms and head thrown back at unnatural angels,silhouetted against the sky.
" God" Preacher muttered as the body of the woman crashed to the gravel street below.
As he started to dismount his horse,Preacher suddenly stopped,the young woman quickly threw he body backwards into a kneeling position,a huge gash split what had once been a pretty face and her eyes rolled over white.
"Preacherrrrr" The woman moaned,her tongue elongating from her mouth as though it were a snake " come to me preacher" the thing giggled.
" Father in heaven" Preacher whispered,his cold eyes narrowing.
The thing which had been the young woman tore the front of her calico dress open,exposing her torn bleeding breast .
"We know what you long for man of god." the thing smirked.caressing it's ruined body " Come to us and know all the pleasures you deny yourself."
The thing giggled once more,it's snake like tongue wiggling obscenely.
Nearby an elderly woman fainted,her husband catching her a second before she would have fallen into the street.
" You will be ours man of god" the thing cackled,it's fingernails running up the insides of it's thighs digging deep bloody trenches " Soon man of god...you will be wrapped inside of us."
The explosion from the report of his revolver echoed through the towns main street,Preacher had drawn his pistol and fired so quickly the thing had no time to respond.
A fist size hole was leaking blood and brain from the back of the woman's shattered skull,an acrid black smoke drifting from the wound.
The creatures eyes changed in the instant of it's death,back to the pretty blue eyes of the young woman,for a brief second they appeared to plead with Preacher,then they were cold...vacant...dead,the woman fell heavily onto her face into the street.
Preacher crossed himself with his pistol " In your name heavenly Father" he whispered.
Preacher leapt from his horse,a crowd of towns people stood staring in shock at what they had witnessed,he quickly bound the body of the young woman with a rope,and slung her over the flanks of his mount,and flung his frame back into the saddle.
Before anyone could even begin to speak to Preacher,he rode away quickly,hoping to locate Father Dailey.
Billy rode out out of town minutes after he first departed from 'the Ugly Mug' He took the main road, the road of division, rather then the small alleys you get in 'Hellhole'. His only regret was, because of this, he had to ride next to some fancy people from the 'the other side'. He cursed them all.
"One day this town will be mine." Billy said to himeself in his whispering voice.
"excuse me, sir, were you talking to me?" An old man in a suit and wearing a bollard hat, asked billy.
Billy gave him a glare, which made the fancy bloke drive up his pace. It would be a two day ride to 'Deadswamp', but it would be wort it.
As he rode for the general store,which Miss Amanda said Father Dailey could be found at,Preacher said a silent prayer for the young woman who,it appeared, had become the unwilling host of some vile spirit.
"Possession" Preacher thought,he had seen it before,far too many times as of late,Preacher had to find the Father.
" Heavenly Father grant me the strength to be the instrument of thy will" Preacher whispered as he got closer to the General store.
Up the road,Father Mathew Dailey stepped from the front of the store,a satchel of supplies tucked under his arm,he turned quickly as he heard his name being called and froze as he saw the man he had come to know as "The Preacher" ridding fast towards him.
Preacher leapt from his mount upon arriving were Father Dailey stood,rushing up to the priest he spoke.
" Father,thank God ..You must see this...this woman..she..well Father..I have to say it looks like a demon got inside her." said Preacher.
Father Daileys eyes widened " possession?" the priest said " are you sure?"
Preacher led the Father to his horse and revealed the body of the woman he'd slung over the saddle.
" Dear God." Father Dailey gasped upon seeing the body "Quickly,we must get her to the church."
" Yes Father" Preacher said climbing into the saddle and waiting for the priest to mount his own horse.
" A great evil took hold of this poor child" Father Dailey said " I must know everything that happened..c'mon"
The two took of for the church as quickly as they could ride.
Gregorio got up and rubbed his face. It was midday and he wondered how he had been able to sleep in so late, he then saw a small partially constructed pyramid of whiskey bottles.
"Oh, yeah" he said amusedly getting up and going to the window.
If he was right in his calculatons he would've gotten drunk enough to keep his clothes on, or at least his pants maybe.
A quick double check proved his calculations correct and he almost applauded himself for knowing how he would act drunk or sober. Unfortunately, he also realised he was probably short on cash right now. He walked towards his window and opened it up, the bright sun blinding him momentarily as he began to reach for his hat and put it on.
The hat reduced the glare and he could see a good art of the town from his room on the second floor of the house across the street from the church. He could see the steeple and a nun walking into the church. It would be a busy day, he had money to make and expenditures to replace.
He grabbed his repeater and his sidearms and went to first take a bath and maybe clean his clothes or get some clean ones.
There was a nice wagon due in town in about 4 hours if it was indeed midday so he had about 30 minutes to freshen up and head out to meet them. Hopefully he would meet them an hour or two out of town, well longer when they would have to walk.
Upon reaching the church, Father Dailey directed Preacher to carry the body of the young woman back into the small barn at the rear of the building.
Inside,as the priest preformed a quick examination of the corpse,Preacher relayed the events which had occurred.
The priest listened intently,then at long last spoke.
" The poor child" Said Father Dailey " Her earthly form was obviously used as a vessel by the unholy in an attempts to weaken your faith my Son."
Preacher nodded,understanding.
" You must see this as a warning,a threat against you from the very agents of Hell" the priest said " The unholy have set you high in there hopes of destroying you my son...or worse yet...in claiming you as their own..you must be ever vigilant...and always prepared against the vile disciples of Hell."
Preachers eyes narrowed, " I ain't afraid Father,the lord is my Shepard...I shall not fear."
Father Dailey nodded and clapped Preacher on his back.
" I know your strong my Son,this is why the unholy hate you so." the priest said.
" I'm doing what it is God has set me to do Father" Preacher said " I'll not falter in His work."
" I know my Son" the priest said " Still head my words..be ever watchful."
" I will Father" Preacher replied.
" Then Go with God my Son" Father Dailey said " I'll attend to the remains of this poor child."
" Thank you Father." Preacher said bowing his head slightly. " God bless and keep you."
" As well as you my Son" the priest whispered as Preacher exited the barn and rode away " God keep and protect you."
Shaun woke slowly, his head still spinning. What had happened last night? He knew he had got drunk. And he knew he had headed to a brothel to seek some company. That much was evident, as he lightly removed the arm that was grasping his chest. He also recollected that he had done nothing except pay her handsomely and then fall asleep. Too old for this kinda thing. He got up and stretched sleepily, groping around for his glasses. Upon finding them, he placed them on the ridge of his nose, and peered around for his trousers. The gal had had the decency to undress him without any hanky panky. Probably because he was too old for her tastes. How sweet.
When Shaun was finally dressed, and had found where his sock had got to, he wandered downstairs to the bar, and got a glass of weak beer and some bread and cheese. He took it back to his room, pausing only to pick up a flower, half dessicated from the heat, from an arrangement near the stairwell.
When he reached his room the girl, whose name he would surely remember given a couple of seconds thought, was getting dressed.
"Ah, sorry, i'll wait outside." he mumbled, feigning bashfullness.
"Y'a don't have to honey, you paid for me."
"Ah, indeed I did, but I would not stoop so low to insult your honour by gawping at you. No, don't mind me, i'll just wait outside."
Presently, the girl (Who he would remember the name if only he bothered to recollect.)opened the door. Shaun handed her the flower, and the breakfast.
"Here ya go my dear. I've got an early start, so im off. Don' got skipping breakfast now, or you could faint!"
With that, Shaun wandered outside into the baking heat of a new day.
Preacher rode for the saloon,he had decided that,despite his distaste for the man,he would have to speak to Able concerning the young woman who had become possessed.
Able seemed to always be capable of finding any information Preacher may require concerning the going ons at the brothels and saloon,and as Preacher nor Father Dailey recognized the young woman,perhaps Able would have some information concerning where exactly she had come from.
As he neared the Saloon,Preacher noticed two men conversing in front of the bar,one of the men gestured at Preacher and the others face split in an evil grin as he nodded.
Preacher didn't like the looks of this,he was aware that he had a price on his head,although few would try to collect it,but he didn't recognize these two as local folks,maybe they were a couple of bounty hunters looking for him...maybe not,either way...Preacher would be ready if they tried anything.
Preacher trotted up to the hitching post in front of the saloon,dismounted and tethered his mount,the two men stared at Preacher who seemed not to notice them as he walked into the bar.
" That's him...I recognize him from the posters" The first man said to the other excitedly.
" Well just settle down before ya wet yer britches" The other,a large bearded man replied " We'll just go in and have us a drink..and then..well..then we're gonna take care of business."
Michael stared boredly at the horizon, the heat haze giving off a magnificent glare. His roving eye caught a darker shadow on the ridge and he squinted at the
figure coming closer. Marie suddenly shot up from where she had been lying and glared at the approaching figure. " 'S human. Dim aura, not evil. The man's
greedy." Michael nodded. He cocked the Spencer and put his finger on the trigger guard. No sense taking chances.
"For the love of money is the root of all evil, ma'am." She looked at him. "1st Timothy chapter 6 verse 10."
Gregorio waited for awhile, the wagon wasn't showing up at the time it was supposed to. He either missed it or he was early.
Another twenty minutes passed and he could see the plumes of dust coming from something. Gregorio pulled out a spyglass and saw that it was the wagon he was waiting for, but it looked like two other outlaws had beat him to it.
Gregorio bit his lip under his bandana and thought the situation over before mounting on his horse and riding towards the wagon.
"They're on the left Clem! THE LEFT!" John yelled at his shotgunner sitting next to him.
"I see 'em" Clem said as he aimed his double barreled shotgun at one of the outlaws chasing them down. He aimed at the closest one and began to squeeze the trigger.
The gun didn't go off as one of the outlaws put a round through Clem's head and his scraggly hair. Clem's face caved in as his body began to fall backwards, the shotgun fallng from his hand and rolling under the wagon. The body soon went over the side and the wagon jumped as the wheel ran over the shotgunner's body.
John saw another rider ahead of him.
"Damn, not another one." he thought as he saw the new rider get into a gallop.
"Come on Bella!" Gregorio said loudly as he sped towards the wagon and the outlaws chasing it down. As he got closer he pulled out his repeater and began to aim it towards the outlaws.
John saw the rider ahead pull out a weapon and waited for it to point at him. An outlaw to the side of him was whooping, but it was cut off as a round went into his chest and knocked him to the ground with a thud. The outlaw left a red trail in the sand as it rolled.
The second outlaw noticed this and began to move to go after the interrupting party. He passed the wagon by five feet before a round entered cut his adam's apple in half and created a bloody geyser in the back of his neck. His horse kept running before stopping.
John saw the rider stop in his path and decided to approach cautiously.
"Perhaps there's still some good ones out in these parts." he thought to himself as he approached the lone rider who was still holding his repeater out to the side.
"I would like to thank you friend." John said as he reached out to shake hands.
"Not a problem." Gregorio responded as he quickly drew out a revolver with his free hand. "You can thank me by giving me half of what cash you have on you."
"Well," John said begrudgingly "I DO owe you after all."
John got down and reached into the wagon to pull out two sacks of cash and coins. Leaving the other goods in the wagon.
"There we go, you can keep the rest of your goods I don't need 'em." Gregorio said and shot the wheel of the wagon and rode to collect the horse of the outlaw he had shot in the neck and cursed the fact that the other one had run far to the west and was out of easy range.
It would take John an hour to fix the wagon, in that time Gregorio would've gotten back to town and sold the outlaw's horse and put half of his new cash in his room in a small safe and spend the rest on ammo, maybe some new clothes, and some food for the week.
"No booze this time." he would think to himself as he would settle in for a game of poker or maybe just get a book to read.
Shaun watched Preacher stride past into the Bar. He and Shaun had crossed swords before, but it had only been over trivial things, such as hiring company or drinking excessively. He'd say they'd built up a rapport, but Preacher wasn't the type. Nah, he was the type to shoot first, ask questions later. Probably after you were buried.
A pair on men watched Preacher stride into the bar, and after a moments thought, followed, hands resting on pistol butts. Shaun had seen the type before. Bounty hunters. By the looks of it they were new to the game, trying to look more viscous than they actually are. They really weren't gonna be a match for Preacher.
"'Scuse me, my good fellows, can I give you a word of warning?"
The first looked up.
"What d'you want gramps?"
Shaun sniffed. "Just a little advice. If your after Preacher, I'd not go in with pistols. I wouldn't got after him with anything less than a Cannon."
The second sneered. "We know who you are, and we know what you've done. Ya might have a cushy lifestyle here, but I bets if these people know half o' what you did they'd not be so welcoming. After we clocked 'Preacher' We're after you."
Shaun grinned. There was no mirth in it however, it was a cold and stony faced smile. He leaned in close.
"Try it, an' I swear you won't leave this Saloon standing."
The first man reached for his gun.
The after echoes of the shot rang through Waste Town. The Second Bounty Hunter blinked, turned and ran as fast as he could away from the Saloon.
The first man was deathly pale, his hand pressed over his throat, blood welling between his fingers, and dribbling down his front. He opened his mouth, and tried to whisper something. Shaun lowered his pistol and holstered it. He then took the Bounty Hunter in his arms and helped him to the ground. As his Life blood drained away, the man desperately groped for a locket around his neck, now soaked in the blood. Shaun, grim realisation taking over, took the locket and opened it for the man. Inside was a picture of a young woman, and a little girl, presumably the Bounty Hunters family. Shaun looked back at the Man, offering his apologies, but it was too late. He was already dead, eyes wide, as if terrified of some unseen horror that had come to claim him.
"God Peace." Shaun mumbled. He looked around, and saw he had gathered quite a crowd of onlookers. A couple were staring in shock, but the majority were angry. A man dressed in black pushed his way through, and without a word began to measure the dead man for his coffin...
The wagon train crested the brow of the ridge and began the descent into the town. Michael shivered. It was almost as if the town were split down the middle
and the forces of Light and Dark fought in the centre. Marie sat in silence and stared out at the visage of some forsaken man pinned to the wall of a house.
Blood dripped from his eye sockets and nose, his chest mutilated with the mark of a demon. Michael winced. He had seen this after Gettysburg as well. No
respect for the dead. This was the first circle of hell, but luckily the ferryman or in this case, a hobo, directed them to the lighter side of the town. The drinking
and lusting was pretty much the same, but in the corner of the street was the outline of a church building and outside it a small holy water basin. Marie smiled.
As Preacher entered the Saloon he surveyed the inside, a few dozen men drinking,several woman going about the business of selling themselves,Preacher shook his head.
He noticed Shaun sitting at a table near the center of the saloon,normally,Preacher thought,the man would have a crowd around him,listening intently to one of Shaun's tales.
Preacher had to admit that despite the mans sinful ways,he respected the old man,hell Preacher himself had listened to some of Shaun's stories and been quite entertained,even though Preacher would never show that he had been.,He'd also,on two occasions, seen Shaun draw
his pistol on another man...both times the unfortunate bastards were dead before they even knew it...The old guy was fast as lightning.
Preacher gave Shaun a slight nod and headed for the bar,he knew the two men from out front had followed him inside,and resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably be sending them to hell very shortly.
The bartender eyed Preacher as he stepped up to the bar,although Preacher wasn't much of a drinking man,he did on occasion have a bit of whiskey,but the bartender still felt nervous setting the bottle before the man.
" There ya are sir" The bartender said " That's yer brand if I remember correctly."
" It'll do" Preacher said,paying for his drink " I don't suppose you've seen old Able in here today." he said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
" Matter of fact I did" the bartender said " he left about an hour ago..he had been talking to a couple of men I ain't never seen before."
" What men?" Preacher asked,raising an eyebrow.
The explosion of a pistol report silenced the din of the Saloon.
Preacher drew his pistols and whirled in time to see Shaun,pistol in hand standing before one of the men who had tailed Preacher into the bar,the man had a bullet hole through his throat ....he had obviously tested Shaun and lost.
The other man was running from the bar as though the devil himself was after him.
" Well" said the bartender " Able had been talking to them two right there."
Preacher downed his drink quickly and rushed from the bar to find the man who'd run out.
Alex arrived at the town only to hear gunshots erupt from a nearby Saloon. Alex instinctively drew Payback and jumped off Skippy, A man ran past Alex muttering something about the Devil. Alex thought to himself and dismissed it as nonsense, He pulled he young lady off the Horse and she ran towards the sheriff's office. Alex hitched Skippy up to a hitching post and walked into the Saloon. This town was very strange...
Michael and Marie turned as they heard the shots and fell to the holy water fountain. Michael held his Spencer on guard as Marie stood at the fountain. Cupping her water-filled hands to her mouth, she drank quickly and deeply. Michael watched as her strength rebuilt because of the purity of the water. Her eyes took on a misty tint and she gasped as energy filled her. She nodded at him, looking through a milky haze. They crouched down and crept towards the saloon, Marie pulling her Peacemaker from her robes...
As Shaun stood watching the crowd gather, he felt someone brush past. A sidelong glance revealed Preacher to be charging down the street after the second Bounty Hunter. He turned his eyes back to the crowd. A deputy had pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and judging by his stance, and the way he held his repeater, he really was going to shoot if Shaun didn't cooperate.
"Thats' Murder. That man, that man you just shot. People were watching, an' you shot him dead, without giving him a chance to draw his gun."
Shaun sniffed.
"He was about to draw his pistol."
Someone from the gathering crowd yelled out.
"How d'you know? He hadn't even got the holster unbuckled."
Another member of the crowd, shouted her thoughts to the public.
"I di'nt even see him make a move, an' you shot 'im."
How fickle, Shaun thought. One minute, they welcome you as their own, and the next, the next they turn on you . A catholic man pushed forward, holding a cross in his hands.
"I didn't even see YOU reach for your pistol. One minute, it was in your holster, then it was in your hand."
"Im fast." Shaun said, glaring as the man inched forward, holding the cross in front of him.
"No one is that fast." said the deputy, who clicked the hammer back on his rifle.
Shaun turned and looked at the crowd. Someone else shouted out.
"He's the devil! He who walks amongst us! He uses his powers to slay any who stand in his way!"
Shaun growled. It didn't help things at all. The catholic had the cross about a foot from Shaun now, and was sweating from the stress.
"Get that outta my face" Shaun said, turning his eyes towards the man.
"Devil! Demon!" a woman shrieked.
The deputy lifted his rifle, and took aim.
"Shaun. You are hereby sentenced to death for the unprovoked murder of this man, and for the heinous crimes of heresy, and of practising the dark arts. We would hang you, but I wouldn't want to waste the rope."
The man aimed down the barrel.
Shaun clicked back the hammer on his pistol. It had been in his holster a second ago. Now it was in his hand, and aiming straight back at the deputy.
"I have no quarrel with you son, but if you don' stop aiming that at me i'm gonna make me another mistake."
He flicked another Pistol from its holster and aimed it at the Catholic, who had the cross about three inches away from Shauns face.
"An' what did I say about the cross?"
The crowd began to close in. People he had been perfectly merry to were now out for his blood. He really wasn't going to shoot them all, that wouldn't solve anything, and besides, he hadn't got the bullets. So he retreated. One step at a time, Shaun moved deeper into the Saloon, heading for the stairs, and his room. He got to the foot of the stairs, and trained both his pistols on the Deputy.
"You stay there son, or we're gonna have some serious trouble."
Shaun raced upstairs, holstering his pistols, and into his lodging. He grabbed up the essentials. His hat, his Buffalo Gun, and his small tin of memento's. After a seconds thought, he picked up a bottle of Whiskey, and tucked it into a satchel with the rest of his stuff. He span on the spot and aimed out of his room, straight at the crowd, who had raced up the stairs after him. People ducked out of instinct, and Shaun took the opportunity to dive out of the window. He landed with a thud on gently sloping roof, and slid down and off into the street. He broke into a run towards his tethered horse. A gunshot echoed through the street, and he felt the heat of a bullet whistle past. Shaun stopped, and turned. The deputy had fired at him. It was as good as a death sentence in sane places. Here, well here it was a god damn excuse to kill someone in cold blood. The deputy dropped his rifle and ran. Shaun watched him go, and eyed the crowd. They had stopped and stared back. Mounting up, Shaun rode away from the 'good' side, and headed for refuge in the 'bad' side. Things were definitely going downhill for Shaun at the moment.
Michael and Marie watched the scene with wide eyes. "Well then. That was ... enlightening." Marie nodded at the loss of words.
The crowd started to move back indoors, some shocked or crying, others baying for blood. Then an older man turned to look at
them and he blinked. He moved towards them, the large crucifix around his neck swinging to and fro...
Preacher raced after the second man who fancied himself a bounty hunter.
The cowardly cur was pretty quick on his feet Preacher admitted to himself,but he knew something that was much faster.
Preacher drew one of his Remington's,still on the run,aimed and fired,the .45 caliber slug tore through the would be bounty hunters leg sending him spiraling into a screaming heap on the road.
The man howled,attempting to regain his footing,Preacher fired again taking the mans other leg out from under him,the inexperienced hunter toppled backwards onto the gravel moaning and pleading for his life.
" Don't kill me...it was all Bucks idea..I never was gonna hurt ya...please don't kill me" the man whimpered.
Preacher strolled up to where the man was laying and kicked him hard in the ribs.
"Shut yer mouth!" Preacher snarled at the man.
The wounded man screamed in pain and Preacher kicked him again,this time knocking the wind out of the man.
" I'm going to ask ya some questions" Preacher said " your going to answer them...or your brains are gonna be all over this here street...ya get me?!"Preacher pointed the big .45 at the bleeding mans face.
The wounded man nodded and wailed for mercy,Preacher smashed him in the face with the butt of his pistol.
" I said shut yer mouth...next time you talk will be to give me an answer...anything else comes out yer mouth...a bullet goes through yer head!" Preacher said pulling back the Remingtons hammer.
The failed bounty hunter nodded and bit into his lip.
" A old drunk name of Able...he the one put ya'll on to me?" Preacher said
" Ye--yes sir..he's the one alright..he told Buck there was alot o money in taking ya dead or alive...I didn't wanna do it...it was Buck..Able and Buck..not me." Wailed the man.
" And did Able have anyplace in particular you was to meet him after I was ...dealt with." Preacher said with a slight smile.
The wounded man shifted his gaze in the direction of the towns borderline...towards...that place.
"Figures" Preacher grunted disgusted.
" I wasn't gonna do it mister" The wounded man said " I was gonna run fer it if Buck looked like he meant ta shoot ya."
" Well...looks like your a coward who'd turn on his buddies as well as a bastard making a living off a blood money." Said Preacher
The wounded man stammered,not knowing how to reply.
" You got any last words partner?" Preacher asked the man.
The man let out a shrill scream " Lord don't kill me please!!"
" The Lord ain't gonna kill ya son" Preacher said staring coldly at the man " I'm the one who's gonna do that."
Preacher squeezed the trigger of his pistol and the aspiring bounty hunters brains exited the back of his head in an explosion of bone and blood.
Preacher stood staring down at the man,he made the sign of the cross over the body and turned to the saloon.
He paused and listened,it seemed quite a ruckus was going on back towards the bar,Preacher supposed it was due to Shauns handy work,Preacher reconed he'd best get back to the saloon and speak up for Shaun.
As he started towards the saloon,Preacher heard gunshots and watched as Shaun raced off on his horse...riding hell bent for "that side".
" Hell fire" Preacher spat,sprinting for his horse.
From behind him he heard voices,angry voices.." What's the world coming to!!..another mans done been shot down in cold blood!!!...Get the Sheriff!!!"
Alex saw the man ride past so he jumped Skippy and gave chase, the mans horse was running at a abnormal pace and Skippy was lagging behind. 'Now or Never' Alex thought to himself as he drew his rifle and took aim, he squeezed the trigger and prayed to the lord to guide his bullet...
Gregorio looked out his windows at the sound of several gunshots thinking a war was going on.
Surely enough there almost was. That one crochety fanatic looked to be chasing after some other crotchety old man, the one who liked to act like mother goose and tell stories. There was a dead man on the ground and an angry crowd near the saloon. Today was about to get real interesting he thought.
Not only that, but a couple was sneaking up to the saloon. Gregorio looked back across the street and mae sure the church was still there and began to laugh.
"Its crazy!" Gregorio yelled to himself as he opened the door of the closet that had the ladder going to the roof in it.
As soon as he got to the roof he pulled out his spyglass and watched the two old men and what appeared to be a younger man chasing after them. The mob was still hanging around the saloon yelling about the murder of some people.
"I knew people went crazy in their old age, but geeze." Gregorio thought to himself as he sat on the roof and watched the scene unfolding.
A second bullet screamed past, missing his head by a fraction of an inch. Shaun's mount reared up in fright, and Shaun had to yank down on the reigns to keep it under control. The rider who shot had slowed down, and was reloading his rifle.
"Oh, this does not bode well for you." he growled through gritted teeth, as he dismounted.
Alex stopped reloading his rifle and dismounted his horse. He pulled out Payback and shouted towards the man.
" Lets settle this like Gentlemen now, no need for innocent people to get hurt"
"Listen to you boy, acting all high and mighty, can you even shot that gun right?"
"I'm just doing God's honest work, getting rid of the scum of the earth like you!"
"Didn't know it was a sin to defend yourself."
The last sentence hit Alex like a ton of bricks, he had just gone Gongho (sp?) and chased him, for all Alex knew he could be a Devout Christian that reads to Orphans.
"Now Sir, I'm prepared to put my gun away and just walk away if you will?"
"Can't say i'm feelin' inclined too sir after all, you did almost kill me. An' the way I see things, well, I 'aint welcome on this side no more, your proof of it." Shaun growled. His pistols had already been drawn, and the hammer cocked. A second and it could all be over.
"Now, if you drop your rifle, and lie on the ground nice and slow, I'll be inclined to let you go. It's your choice, son, but you got only one chance to get it right."
Shaun shook his head. No one had respect for him past his stories. Part of him had known this all along, but he had denied it, for the most part.
"Much obliged Preacher" Shaun said, lowering his Pistols to an non-threatening level. Of course, Preacher knew there was no point where Shaun's pistols weren't threatening in his hands, apart from maybe half a mile underground. But the effort was there.
Alex heard the voice behind and jumped back startled, Alex didnt know who to point his gun at. He decided to put it away and hold his hands up.
"Now, we are all Gentlemen here. Names Alex. Came into town because I have heard tales of Satan worshippers here. I think this is all one big misunderstanding."
The young man holsterd his weapons and spoke "Now, we are all Gentlemen here. Names Alex. Came into town because I have heard tales of Satan worshippers here. I think this is all one big misunderstanding"
" Shooting at me was a big misunderstanding?" Shaun said with a touch of amusement.
Alex started to speak,but Preacher cut him off " Tell me something son...why would ya come to town looking for followers of the dark one?...you got business with'em?"
"And with that" Shaun said, sensing another of Preachers 'questioning' moments, "Im off." I aint staying in this town now that the game is up for me. Those bounty hunters were out for me as well Preacher. I aint gonna be here when they find out the truth. Much obliged for stopping this kid killing himself."
With that Shaun mounted up and started to trot down the street.
Preacher watched a Shaun slowly rode towards "that" part of the town.
" Ya don't have to go to them Shaun." Preacher called after him " I'll speak up for ya with the Sheriff...ain't no one gonna hang ya for shooting that bounty hunter down."
Gregorio was kind of upset, he could've made some money had the fight gone any further and someone actually died. There were a couple of people along with Gregorio on a list of people the town may not really like.
The young kid was someone new, the two old men he could identify. The story teller Shaun and the man known only as Preacher. Preacher's death would've been hard to profit from, but Shaun had recently built up a reputation.
"Don't get too greedy now." Gregorio thought to himself "You have enough now to last you for almost a couple of weeks if you avoid the luxuries. Remember that, greed is bad."
Gregorio had been aiming his carbine at Shaun when he realised that killing just for some extra cash wouldn't be the most christian like thing to do.
Gregorio sat back and adjusted his hat and bandana, propping himself up on a small chimney pipe to watch what else may happen, who knows, maybe this young buck will get killed after all.
"Geeze, I'm a young buck." Gregorio thought to himself as he began to return his vision to the show that may have only been delayed.
Shaun carried on riding away, but over his shoulder he called back.
"Those Bounty Hunters have the Wanted Posters on their Persons. When the stuff is rifled through, a word from you 'aint gonna erase the past. I'll see you around."
As he rode into Waste Towns darker side it became apparent people here weren't going to welcome him. Most people in fact, were reaching for their guns, and some of the more serious men actually followed him through the streets.
"Welcome to Waste town friend!" came a heavily Mexican accented voice from in front. Shaun looked back ahead. A man with lank, greasy, black hair, a poncho and a sombrero (cliche!) was standing in front of him. the man was grinning savagely, revealing his broken and rotting teeth.
"I bet you were a Badass in the pussy side weren't you? I bet you made people shake in their boots from your very presence eh?"
Shaun looked down in disgust at the man. He then dismounted slowly.
"Yeah, you seem the type old timer. Think he's badass enough to go to this side.Well lemme tell you something. We're the real badasses. Youse, your nothing more than a badly trained dog. 'S the difference between us. The difference between dogs and coyotes. Now, why dont you play dead?"
The man whipped his Pistol from its holster. Shaun darted forwards, moving into his opponents guard. Shaun slammed upwards with the butt of his Pistol, smashing the mans jaw. as he collapsed backwards, Shaun open fired.
"Woof." Shaun grunted as he stepped bodily over the dead Mexican. He eyed the street. A couple of people had drawn their guns, but they weren't making a move towards him. Apparently making up his mind, Shaun clambered back onto his horse and began to make his way towards the nearest stables.
@Alex: No it's not time for an event, I'll wait for an event until this saturday or possibly tomorrow evening for the first event. Just so you can all finish your errands.
I do hope you get those done before tomorrow evening.
Trees seemed to be everywhere. Thick forests with swamp like features. Billy traveled on the only road in the bayou, and even that stopped when Billy got farther in the bayou. He traveled a lot of miles just to get here, but it would be worth it. Dark creatures dwelled the Bayou, most of them not natural. leering eyes stalked Billy but but he was not afraid. Billy lost most of his feelings back when they put the torch to his house. The only feeling he had was anger and hate. The reason why These unnatural creatures dwelled here could be tracked down to the bayou's only human inhabitant. Human. What remained Human of the man billy was about to visit. Billy made his way through the dense Bayou region on the back of Lucifer. Over there, in the distance, Billy could make out 1 little cabin. located at the river, it had a small boat with half a lamp post on it docked there. Billy smiled.
Preacher watched as Shaun rode over to "that side",for a moment Preacher considered following him,but he decided against it,the only reason Preacher went to " that side" was to hunt.
Wanted posters?" Preacher thought " maybe I should see what Shaun was talking about."
Preacher swung his mount around,and spurred his horse back to the saloon.
Now things were getting boring and the sun was getting kind of hot so Gregorio decided he would pack it in.
It was tempting to go after the storyteller, but that side of town he had entered wasn't too pretty to look at. In fact, the roof's seemed to get slick with corruption once a certain point was crossed. Not to mention the bodies pinned against the walls really added to the class of the other side.
Well, it was really tempting actually. Gregorio got up and stretched out before leaning his carbine against his shoulder and walking along the roof to watch the old man.
The place smelt funny, almost as if someone had taken a dead rat, rolled it in buffalo chips, covered it in fish, and left it out in the sun for a couple of days. Some buzzards were flying around the middle of the satanic side, maybe the storyteller knew something about this and wasn't exactly the god-fearing christian he ought to be.
It was almost hard to keep pace with the old man and his horse without slipping on some of the grime on the rooftops.
"How in the hell are the rooftops so dirty over here?" Gregorio said under his breath "Does living on this side mean you throw your garbage up here or som..."
Gregorio had slipped and managed to grab onto the ledge of the roof, out of sight of the old man and the crowd surrounding him.
He pulled himself up panting as he tried to wipe himself off a bit. His right side was greasy now along with most of his duster. By the time Gregorio regained his sight of the old man he could see another dead body lying at the geezer's feet.
Right player event time. Just 1 for Alex this time. don't worry, everybody will have their chance. The rest of you can continue their business
from now on we will count this as Day 1
@Alex: Alex was attending to his horse while he noticed he was being watched. Alex spun around and drew his pistol, only to see a middle aged man with a fancy mustache leaning against a wooden beamer, chewing on some chewing tobacco.
" Ain't no need for that son.' Was the man's reply to this.
Alex stood there with his pistol aiming at the calm man. Only then did Alex see the sheriff badge on the man's chest.
"xcuse me sir." Alex said dumbfounded.
Alex put his pistol away.
"Didn't meant to scare you, sheriff. "
"I am sure you didn't. My name is Sheriff Dunbrown. I am in charge of this here joyous town, or at least half of it. Now I heard you had a minor bounty on your head in some other town."
Alex was getting nervous now.
"Don't worry son, I have a job for you. what do you say?"
"Depends." Alex replied quickly
" Well," Dunbrown straightened himself. "... I am short on hands nowadays. Nothing seriously, but I might need some help."
"I am interested." said Alex.
"Thought you were, I've seen you dealing with Shaun and Preacher. Now, I am not going to give you some all important task first, you first need to gain my trust."
"Aight, you have your man, what do you want me to do." Alex replied
"Good, there is a sneaky bastard that just immigrated from 'the other side'. Now we don't want that kind in our worthy and well established neighborhood messing around with our lives, now do we? His name's Roy. He is bootlegging some cheap liquor from that hell pit on the other side to our bars. Now, The stuff is filthy as piss, mind me. I tasted it, because I love my drink. I wouldn't give it to my wife, if you know what I mean. I want you to take out that sneaky Roy. You up to it?"
Alex nodded.
"Good. Now you have to do your own research as we don't know anything about this here Roy. Something we do know is that he is one hell of a knife-fighter. Hell he can throw with them too. I'd keep an eye on my back in case the bastard comes sneaking up behind you." Good luck, when the job's done, we meet here. I don't want anyone to see me dealing with outlaws. "
Sheriff Dunbrown walked away, probably of to get his drink. ANything except Roy's liquor.
School has interuppeted my schedule for engaging in RPG's, but I finally got some time to post. If i mess anything up in this post, please, someone let me know so I can fix it.
Bert stumbled into the town, the hot desert sun having taken more out of him then he had thought it would have.
His hat was gripped loosely in his hand, his revolvers slung low on his hips. He felt as though he were dragging dead bodies tied to his thighs.
He saw a large building, and heard racous laughter, and knew he had found the saloon.
Bert stumbled in, the doors swinging wide open. He limped to the bar, and leaned heavily.
The bartender came over, and asked him what he wanted.
"Scotch." Bert said.
One of the ladies of the house cam eover and tried to sit on his lap.
"Hello sug. I bet you could make me have a really nice night... if the price is" Bert cut her off.
"I would sonner stick my seed in a vulture then your aging arse, you dried up whore." Her mouth opened wide, and she smacked him.
The barkeep grabbed her hand before she could hit again.
"Now calm down Lucile. The man's just had a long day of travel. Why don't you take care of someone else and let this boy relax."
She huffed and walked away.
"Best not anger her boy. She ain't too kind to those that point out she don't have much time left as a companion."
He slid a glass of scotch and Bert downed it quick.
He repeated it three more times.
He felt prying eyes on his back, and slid one hand to his hip, feeling the LeMat, fingering the worn sandlewood grip.
The man wearing the crucifix walked between them and into the general store on the opposite side of the road.
Michael sighed with relief and walked into the bar, Marie following behind. They ignored the eyes on them, some
still wary after the shooting, and some more interested in the new strangers in town. "Whiskey for me and some
tequila for the lady my friend." The barkeeper nodded and poured the two shots. Michael sipped while Marie knocked
it back and asked for a bottle of rum. She pocketed and Michael knew it was for Lord Ghede. They just sat in the bar
and waited for the sun to set ...
It was getting close to dusk when Gregorio had lost sight of the old man again. He had to sneak around certain things on the rooftops to avoid being seen by anyone below, getting noticed on the good side was bad and getting noticed on this side was much worse.
"Time to call it a day he told himself as he began to go back to his house and a much saner plane of existance.
When he turned he could see three figures standing four rooftops away from him. From the looks of it and figuring by chance, they weren't the christian type.
"Feth me backwards and call me a whore's illegitimate son." Gregorio said under his breath, the air leaving his mouth lifting the bandana slightly.
His only way out was past them and he knew it would be loud as hell if he had to take them out.
Gregorio looked down and saw that he was still mostly filthy from the fall he had earlier, he didn't smell too good either.
"Maybe I can just sneak past 'em" he thought to himself. He looked the part anyways so he decided to give it a shot.
Gregorio calmly shouldered his rifle, hunched his back a bit, and walked calmly towards the trio in front of him.
"One roof away." he thought as he continued to walk calmly towards them.
One of the trio turned to him and tapped another on the arm, the third member turned on his own conviction after noticing the other two looking at something else.
"Where you goin' boy?" one of the older ones said.
"Jes' gettin' off the roof." Gregorio said, trying to mimic the slight accent of the man's voice. It sounded gutteral, but also a bit twangy. It was hard to replicate.
"Then whys dontcha jes' jump off right there?" another replied while cracking a sickeningly wide smile.
"Guess, I forgot my wings." Gregorio said, he was still walking towards them, acting like it was a normal conversation he would have daily.
He came to 100 feet from them before stopping.
"Whatcha think of that Sassy?" the younger said to the third member.
"I'm thinkin he gonna learn to fly real soon." the third said, the voice's pitch indicating it to be either a kid or a girl. Gregorio could barely recognize the face as being a girl's, they all had scars and carvings on their faces. They each had a variety of scars, but they all had one symbol etched into their left cheek.
"I may be inclined to think otherwise Sassy," the older one said as he scratched his chin "I think he's gonna learn about his innards and how they should not be used."
"I prefer your thinkin' Eddie" the younger one said to the elder now identified as Eddie. "anyone have a book to show this fella'?"
"Not me." said Eddie.
"Me neither." said Sassy.
"Aw shoot," the younger one said mimicking surprise and slapping his pockets "looks like I don't have mine neither. Oh well, looks like we're jes' going to have to show you personally."
Gregorio had been clenching his teeth the entire time, he knew what was about to happen, but he also wanted to be quiet about it.
"Well," Gregorio began while lowering his rifle to act like a cane "if you folks are so inclined to teach me something, I feel I should do the same. I'll go first an I'll teach ya some nice poetry."
The trio were beginning to get closer as Gregorio began.
"God is the one who sits above, satan is the one who got a great shove. Now satan is in hell and cries, while being trapped by holy ties. God will judge us when we're dead, I'll speed it up by caving in your head." Gregorio said, whipping the gun up so the butt caught Eddie in the chin, sending him in a backwards arch to the roof.
The other two lunged after Gregorio, but Gregorio swung the rifle around like a club and caught the younger in the temple, sending him towards the ledge. Gregorio hoped he woudn't fall off as it would alert the people below.
Sassy had gone largely unnoticed while Gregorio willed the younger one's fall to stop short of the ledge and Sassy jumped onto Gregorio's back and began to choke him with her forearm.
Gregorio looked around as he was gasping for air and spotted a chimney pipe coming out of the roof. He turned his back to it and rammed into it as hard as he could. Sassy let go and Gregorio could feel his breath returning to him as he spotted the oter two getting back to their feet.
Sassy was on the ground behind him, clutching the back of her head in pain when Gregorio lifted up his foot and stomped down on the disfigured wenche's chest. He could feel a small crack through his boot and saw blood coming out of her mouth. Hopefully she was dead.
Gregorio focused his attention back to the other two to notice that they had pulled out rather large bowie knives.
"You done made a mistake boy." Eddie said, his smile missing more teeth than it was before. Eddie then ran at Gregorio and Gregorio side stepped, allowing Eddie to trip over Sassy's lifeless body, Gregorio ran with him and grabbed Eddie by his hair and brought the older man's head into the roof before he put his knee down on the old man's back and whipped his head to the side. A jarring popping noise signaling the end of another man's life.
The remaining foe was on him as Gregorio turned his attention back to the younger one. Gregorio could see a point coming at him and lifted his rifle to deflect it. The younger man's arm went to Gregorio's right and Gregorio could feel something warm crawling down the same side of his head. The younger man's face was now close to Gregorio's and he attempted to bite Gregorio's nose off as Gregorio grabbed the young man's arm and swung it around.
The younger one went rolling in pain as his elbow began to throb in pain, it had been distended just enough to cause a lot of pain without breaking it. Gregorio got up and walked towards the younger man and placed his foot on the younger man's arm.
"What's your name friend?" Gregorio asked while breathing heavily.
"Ant, Anthony." the remaining member of the trio squeeked out.
"Well, Anthony I got good news and bad news." Gregorio said while smiling behind his bandana. "The good news is I ain't mad at you."
Anthony looked bewildered at that statement and somewhat hopeful.
"So what's the bad then?" Anthony said, hope still lingering in his voice.
Gregorio bent down closer to Anthony and said, "Well, the bad news is I liked Sassy's idea.".
Anthony looked at Gregorio with wide eyes as he felt Gregorio's foot lift off his arm and impact hard with his back. Then weightlessness and a blur of vision before he stopped experiencing anything.
Gregorio looked down at the broken remains of the opponent and felt his right ear. It was nearly severed off, but nothing the doc back at the other side of town couldn't patch up. Luckily, Gregorio had kicked Anthony off the roof and into a back alley were he wouldn't get too much attention around these parts.
Gregorio began walking back to the good part of town. He needed new clothes, and to see the doc. After that maybe he would celebrate a victory with a few drinks at the saloon.
Gregorio spotted coinpurses on both Eddie and Sassy, money was money no matter which side you were on, that victory drink at the saloon looked all the much more possible now.
Alex stood there while he thought who could know about the knife fighter, but could think of none. He decided that the man with the crucifix could be a good bet. Alex walked in the saloon, anyone here could be Roy. The man at the bar who looks like he has a hard day, the man with the woman knocking back rum and whiskey, the man with the large scar on his face.
He sighed to himself and walked up the barkeep alongside the sweating man.
By the time Preacher returned to the saloon,the bodies of the would be bounty hunters had been removed,most likely carted down to the small funeral home near the edge of town.
"Blast it." Preacher thought " I don't want to have to be bothered with that fool of a Sheriff or that shifty grave digger either."
Before he could decide on his next course of action,Preacher heard the distinct sounds of several pistol hammers being cocked back.
"Don't make a move Preacher" Said a man Preacher instantly recognized as on of the Sheriff's deputies " Sheriff Dunbrown done give orders that you was to be brought in."
Preacher glanced around,three other deputies had their pistols aimed at him as well.
Preacher shook his head " Well,looks like ya got me " he said " Let's go see what that idiot Dunbrown wants.."
The doc had done a real quick job of Gregorio's ear. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't hanging at an odd angle or bleeding anymore. His hat created enough shadow to cover it up so he could walk around town without anyone gawking at him.
"I need a drink." Gregorio thought to himself, a drink would probably take the edge off of the pain. He was also tired and his face was blank. He walked past his house and saw that old religious fanatic they called "Preacher" being escorted by several deputies to who knew where.
He reached the saloon and could see that younger man from before at the bar talking to the barkeep. He wasn't a bounty hunter or else he would've been dead, Gregorio felt a little safe with everything that had been going on, he was wanted, but now he was one of the least wanted people in town, relatively safe but still safe.
Gregorio wanted a drink but the younger man was keeping the barkeep busy, Gregorio walked over to the barkeep and interrupted the younger man's conversation.
"Three shots keep." Gregorio said to the barkeeper.
"Do you mind, I was talking to him?" the young man said.
"Yeah I do, you were keeping him up from fulfillin' his duties." Gregorio responded
The young man was about to respond when the barman returned with the three shots, Gregorio put one down in front of the young man.
"Take this, it should heal any hurt feelings you have." Gregorio said to the young man. Gregorio began walking away to the other end of the bar, two shots in one hand and the other hand on one of his pistols just in case the whiskey didn't heal his hurt feelings.
Marie was a little tipsy. No, very tipsy. Four bottles of rum did that to even the most zealous devotee of Ghede. The way in which
that annoying idiot at the bar had been shut up by the newcomer kept Michael entertained for a few minutes, and then he collapsed
to the floor, a bottle of whiskey smashing as he passed out. Marie dragged him to a chair and sat him down, while she returned to the bar.
" 'Nother bottle o' dat good firewater, mate."
Gregorio looked back at the man who had just collapsed and at his lady friend.
"Good way to lose one's money." Gregorio said to himself "Passin out like that."
His lady friend was also loading up on the stuff, it was a really good way to lose money, especially when the town's biggest oppurtunist was in the same room.
As soon as the passed out man's friend reached the bar Gregorio spoke up.
"I got their drinks for tonight." Gregorio told the barkeep happily.
"Thank you." the lady said "but don' be tryin' anyting funny wit' us." the lady said with a mix of suspicion and joy.
"Jes' like to treat newcomers right." Gregorio responded as innocently as he could fake.
Preacher was brought at gunpoint down the towns main road,several groups of townsfolk stood about whispering and pointing as the group of deputies leading Preacher rode by.
Shortly,the group reached the small Sheriffs office and jail house,Preacher swinging down from his horse and tethering the animal to the hitching post.
The deputies dismounted as well,keeping their guns on Preacher as they did.
Preacher eyed the lead deputy coldly as the young man gestured with the barrel of his pistol "Get inside Preacher,the sheriffs waitin."
Preacher laughed shortly, " Boy,ya keep waving that gun at me,I might decide to make you use it."
The young man looked nervously at Preacher,started to speak,but was cut of by Sheriff Dunbrown.
" No need fer that now Preacher,boys just doin his job" Dunbrown said "If you'd be kind enough to step inside...we can have us a little talk."
Preacher glared at the Sheriff,but stepped into the office.
" This better be good Dunbrown" Preacher said " I don't much cotton ta wasting time with you...*"
Preacher saw stars and fell to the ground as Dunbrown brought his revolver butt down hard on the mans skull,he fought to regain his footing when a riffle butt crashed down sending him off into darkness.
Alex watched as they carted the man into the sheriffs office, his brain was telling him not to go but his heart said go. He walked over to the window and peered inside and saw the man get pistol-whipped to the floor. Alex gasped and thought on what to do, he decided to save the man. He kicked the door in sending the man behind it hurtling towards the wall,
before Dunbrown had time to react Alex delivered a swift jab to his face followed by a reverse before finishing with a turning kick. Alex bent down over the man and proceded to push him.
Preacher shook his head to clear his vision,he blinked and focused on the young man standing before him,it was the same kid who had taken the shot at Shaun.
" C'mon sir we gotta move." The young man said.
Pistol fire erupted in the small office,thankfully Dunbrowns men were terrible shots and none of the rounds struck Preacher or the young man as they fled the jail and charged to their horses.
As they raced away,Preacher glanced over at the young man " So tell me son...what's your story?"
Shaun entered the nearby bar, and had a quick look around. The place was a mess, the floors were scuttling with 'roaches, and most of the people inside were the type of customer Shaun had the pleasure of putting down, most of the time. Ordering a drink, he waited politely for the Barkeeper to pour him a drink.
"I say ol' chap, you don' look half like the Barkeeper in the other end o' town." He said, aiming to strike up conversation.
The barkeeper looked up from pouring a drink, and nodded.
"That'll be ma brother Clance I expects? Yeah, I ain't seen him for best part o' a year. Hows he gettin' on?"
Shaun smiled as the drink was passed to him. The glass was grubby, and stank faintly of sulphur, but he wasn't a fussy man.
"Oh, pretty good, I thought the whole light n' dark divide kinda would be a problem?"
The barkeeper grinned toothily, and replied
"Bloods thicker than water, n' the money we make goes back to our ma anyways, so the ways I see it, is that it pays to be separate see? If we both set up in either side, we'd have to compete. This way, well this way we gets the best o' both."
Shaun nodded, and looked along the counter at the occupants of the bar. A prostitute with cuts all over her face smiled back at him, revealing she had no teeth.
"Nice company I see.."
Shaun downed his drink and walked back out the bar, accidentally stepping on a roach the size of a small rat on the way.
After wiping his boot on a passed out bum outside, Shaun wandered through the streets generally taking his new home in. Wasn't a nice place to be, but he had to keep hidden until the heat was off. 'Anyways' Shaun mused. 'It ain't half bad, an' it's not as bad as its portrayed.'
A body fell from the roof above, and crumpled sickeningly on the floor about 10 feet away.
Alex looked at the man riding next to him.
" My ma and pa owned a ranch, we did all right. Had food on the table and clothes on our backs. Then one day I was out hunting with Skippy here when I hear screams, I turn round and ride towards our ranch only to find vandals had set fire to it. They had killed my ma and pa. I took out my rifle and killed them. I rode, rode long into the night and came here. Now about yourself?"
Preacher paused for a moment,feeling a kinship with the kid.
" I had me a wife,prettiest gal ya ever saw,and two young'uns,good boys both of them,had us a little spread a few miles away" Preacher said.
" One night,Sarah wakes me,says she hears a ruckus outside,I always slept sort of hard in them days,so I didn't hear nothing at first" Preacher continued " then I hear our old horse raising the dickens, I figure it might be a wolf...maybe Injuns...so I grabbed my riffle and took of out side,my oldest boy Cody with me."
Preacher lowered his head a bit,the memories of the night obviously haunting him.
" We reached the barn and found the old horse torn ta pieces" Preacher went on " the poor animal was ripped wide open and it's insides had been pulled all over the barn." Preacher shook his head " I'd never seen anything like it before."
" It was then I heard the screams from the house,Sarah and Corry,I ran just as fast as my legs would carry me" Preacher said,a tear running down his face " The house was burning up,Sarah ran out the door,her night close burning away from her body,there...there were ...bites..deep bloody bites all over her."
Preacher paused again,wiping away a tear " She fell in front of me screaming,her hair burning like a torch,I tried to save her,God knows I did...but she just died right there" Preacher glanced at the kid,who was staring at hm silently " Then I heard Corry screaming, I told Cody ta stay with his Ma and I run into the house,That's when I first seen it...some kinda Devil..straight out of hell,it's eyes glowing at me...it had my boy in it's clawed hands..it was eating him alive."
Another tear slid down Preachers face " I raised my riffle to shoot it..to try to save Corry,but the thing threw my boy at me...I fell back against the wall,next thing I knew..I was on fire too...the thing laughed at me and jumped out of a window..I grabbed Corry..I knew he was dead,but I couldn't let my boy burn up..and I ran outside still burning."
Preacher looked down briefly " I got myself put out and called for Cody...he was gone...I searched until I passed out...but I never saw him again."Preacher looked up at the kid " When I woke up Father Dailey was with me,he'd seen to my loved ones burial...and doctored me up best he could." Preacher pointed at his scared face.
" I lost everything I cared about that night...since then all I want is to find my missing boy...and do the Lords work of sending that evil back to Hell." Preacher said,a look of cold defiance on his face.
"I'll find my boy..sooner or later...and anytime I cross paths with an agent of evil...I'ma send 'em straight to Hell...so help me God I will."Preacher said as the two rode on.
Hmm. I haven't been very dedicated to this RP with only one IC post. I'm still debating whether or not to bother RPing anymore here.. might well just go over to the dark side with a new character.
OOC @Alex: now you did a hit and run at Sheriff dunbrown's office, you do know your bounty has gone up quite a bit? and your task (player event) concerning Roy failed?
Scrazza wrote:OOC @Alex: now you did a hit and run at Sheriff dunbrown's office, you do know your bounty has gone up quite a bit? and your task (player event) concerning Roy failed?
OOC: Well,considering Preacher and Alex are ridding together,and given Preachers dislike of "people from that side of town",old Roy may still find himself on the receiving end of a bullet.
Shaun wandered down the street, stopping only to tip his hat at a corpse that had been hammered to the wall. The dead should be honoured.
He clambered over a nearby fence and wandered over to where he had tethered his horse. Mounting up, Shaun trotted through town, heading towards the road out of town.
"Time to have a change of scenery" he muttered to himself, as his horse began to speed up.
***
The heat of the plains blazed down on him, as he rode towards nothing in particular. Shaun hummed a couple of songs to himself, and even read through an old, and dog eared copy of 'buffalo bill.' However, even Shaun, whom was legendary for his tales, began to get bored. It was no fun telling his stories to himself. He'd been there. Shaun instead began to contemplate the women in town. How long had it been since his last proper accompaniment? Four, maybe five weeks. Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but Shaun had a disposition of getting lonely fast. Eventually, as if from no where, a pair of young ladies appeared from out of the heat waves.
It was as if his thoughts conjured up a pair of young ladies, which led Shaun to the conclusion that they were either not real, or more importantly, they weren't the type of girl he wanted to mix with. I mean, hell, why would there be a pair of companions standing in the middle of a wasteland wearing nothing but undergarments. Shaun knew better. He'd heard stories, in fact he even had one about siren's himself. The two ladies stood nearby, and ran their hands over their bodies.
Succubi.
Shaun rode on, until he heard the enraged screams of demons deceived. Looking back, he saw the pair of ladies had seemed to of ceased to exist. Probably off to prey on another, weaker individuals.
With that Shaun came to a stop, and opened a saddle bag. Inside was a flask of water. He took a deep draught, and scanned the wastes around him for life. In the distance, the massive shape of a huge shaggy Buffalo watched him innocently. Tipping his hat towards the behemoth, shaun rode on. Buffalo were rare nowadays, most of the southern herd had been hunted to extinction and the northern herd was going to find itself suffering in the next few years.
The male buffalo watched him pass out of it's sight before it turned it's massive blood stained maw back to it's meal. A rotting carcass of a young woman was systematically relieved of her flesh by a fanged tongue that lolled from the great beasts jaws.
Michael woke up, and instantly regretted it. A freight train had run through his mind and was now tea bagging his skull.
Marie was curled up in the chair next to his, her eyes blank and wide open as normal. There was no-one in the bar, save
a younger man on a bar stool in the corner.
"Mornin' friend. Care to talk?" Michael shrugged and headed over to him. "Name's Gregorio. You new?"
Michael nodded. "Macleod. Came in on the last wagon train. Booze out and sleep in before we head to Gallup." Gregorio
shook his head.
"I was told Gallup had gone to hell."
Michael grinned. "We were heading to drag it back it." Gregorio snorted. "Any hunting work around?" Gregorio raised an
eyebrow.
"Buffalo?" Michael laughed and answered in the negative.
"Marie and I hunt. We hunt the beasts of hell and put them down. Any human possession, we break it. Restless spirits, we
send them to the sky."
Gregorio whistled. "You hunt demons and hellspawn?"
Michael's face darkened. "Hellspawn are not to be hunted. They are to be feared. Dark creatures, spawned by the pits of
Tartarus and Barbutat. We run from hellspawn. They hunt us. Or did."
Gregorio nodded. "We seek to destroy the lines between demon and human. Incubi, Succubi, everything your momma told
you wasn't real and you held that to be true by the light of day. At night ... whole other story."
"My momma never told me any stories." Gregorio said shumily, his plan had gone to rot as Macleod's lady friend hadn't passed out to let Gregorio free range with Macleod's money.
"Might as well act the part anyways." Gregorio thought to himself before continuing.
"My momma and pops left me on the doorsteps of an orphanage before I could walk, something about money being tight the nuns would say." Gregorio finished loking down at his glass, he had wanted to fake his sadness, but the real stuff was coming on.
"Sorry to hear 'bout that." Michael said almost regretting his choice of words.
"So them demons are real nasty I've heard." Gregorio began changing the subject.
"Yes they are, they can do almost anything they please when they please. They all have certain tricks that work on them though." Macleod said scholarly "By the way, you're not from around here exactly are you?" Macleod said abruptly.
"Not originally." Gregorio said "my parents were Italian I heard so that's why my name is Gregorio, the nuns thought it at least sounded italian. My friends call me Greg though for short."
"Where exactly were you from?" Macleod said.
"Too tell the truth I'm none too sure. I remember it being warm nearly year round, but close enough to the sea. I remember that cause I was a powdermonkey when I was about 12." Gregorio said taking a swig afterwards.
"A powdermonkey?" Macleod asked.
"Yeah, a powdermonkey was a kid who had to run the gunpowder to the cannons on a ship. I did that till I was 14 and the ship was sunk. After that I wound up here." Gregorio finished.
"So you were a part of the war then?" Macleod said with mild interest. "What side?"
Gregorio smiled underneath his bandana, "Not going to say friend, blood is still shed over that war by both sides."
With that Gregorio put down some coins for the drinks, some were defiled with markings from the other side.
"Why do you wear that bandana over your face?" Macleod said spotting the coins.
"That's personal business friend an..." Gregorio began before being cut short by a pistol being put in his face.
"You're one of them aren't you?" Macleod said instigatingly.
Gregorio began to laugh and looked up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to Macleod and his gun. "Nope, I've been over to that side recently following an old man from this side sure, but on my way back I was confronted and killed my confronters. The money was there's, but spoils of war you know."
Macleod still looked at Gregorio questioningly.
Gregorio rolled his eyes and sighed and then took off his hat to show Macleod his ear.
"See, this got cut by one of them barbarians over there." Gregorio said sternly.
The young man,Alex,stared at Preacher...the tale the man had told him made his blood run cold.
After a long moment he spoke " I guess that the Sheriff is going to be looking for both of us." Alex said.
Preacher laughed " Dunbrown is an idiot,and scum to boot,he's been doing business with them..the people from over there..on the other side for some time now...he'd sell this whole side out for the right price."
Alex nodded " He had approached me about taking out some bootlegger named Roy...seemed to want that mans hide pretty badly"
Preacher nodded " Roy Holister...he has a still set up over there" Preacher gestured towards the dark side of the town " Brings his stinking poison over here and Dunbrown takes a piece of the profits"
Alex stared at Preacher " So the Sheriff wasn't interested in keeping Roy out of town?"
" I doubt it" Preacher said " More likely he just wanted you to do his dirty work...Dunbrown don't care about these people...him and his moronic deputies keep the peace over here because it lines their pockets...but believe me son,if the devil himself paid 'em right..they'd throw everyone here to the wolves."
Alex looked angry " So...what do we do now?" he asked the older man.
" First off...I got an old drunk name of Able we need to find...I'm sure he could shed a bit of light on a few questions I got." Preacher said " Then we find Roy Holister..."
Alex stared at Preacher,the young man wasn't sure what Preacher had in mind...but for now,Alex figured he'd stick with the man.
Billy approached the odd cabin. (back in the bayou) He hitched Lucifer to a nearby tree, and went on to enter the medium sized cabin. Billy didn't wait to knock before entering. When Billy entered, he was welcomed by a sour stench. The old master must have had a rotting alligator around here.
"What brings you here my boy?" asked an old voice.
"I am not an your boy." was billy's icy reply. I am here because you need to do something for me."
"tell me, Billy. What is it you want the great Papa Buju to do for you?" asked the old man.
"your magiks are greater than mine. I will tell you what you need to do.
+++The plan+++ (OOC Of course I am not going to post that here, that would ruin the game.)
.....
"You ask too much Billy." was Papa Buju's reply.
"No." snapped Billy.
"It will take time to prepare for this. A long time. Come back to me when YOU are ready for this too." Said Papa Buju.
with that, Billy left after he shot an icy stare at Papa Buju, an old man with dreadlocks and blue tattoos all over his body, his chest full of scars.
Billy mounted Lucifer and headed back to waste town. He didn't worry. Waste time would be his. He was a very patient 'man'. Wether it would take 1 week, 1 year or a hundred years. He had time on his side.
It was getting darker and darker outside as the sun went down, with that Gregorio thought it would be an excellent time to go home.
So far he had a day with a net profit so it was a good day. He didn't care about almost losing an ear or almost dying on the forsaken side of the town, he cared about what his wallet felt like.
He got home and let himself in through a window in the second floor, the ladder to the roof was a secret as was his room. No access besides his windows, roof, and a pull down staircase that was no longer able to be pulled down. It had to be opened from inside and that proved difficult sometimes when the wood would swell.
He wasn't drunk and the pain in his ear kept him up, but not enough to prevent him from sleeping.
Preacher and Alex rode to the outskirts of town,various ramshakled cabins and homes where located here,and in some case,people who'd rather not be found choose this area to hide out in.
" Do you think Roy's around here?" Alex asked Preacher.
A pistol shot exploded in the night and Alex felt the wind as the bullet wizzed pased his face.
Preacher half laughed half snarled " Well...Roy or not..someones happy to see us."
The two men dove from their horses and took cover,another shot from the darkness kicked up dirt at Preachers boot as he dove behind a rain barrel and drew his pistols.
" You ok kid?" Preacher called to Alex.
" I'm as good as I can be,what with someone shooting at us." The young man called back,he had taken cover behind a horse trough and was scanning the darkness for any sign of the person or persons who had shot at them.
Another pistol report,Preacher saw the muzzle flash of the gun come from between two run down cabins just to his left.
He signaled to Alex to fire in the direction of the cabins and rolled into the street to attract the gunman's attention.
Another shot came from out of the darkness,this one grazing Preachers shoulder.
At that same moment Alex opened fire,fanning the hammer on his revolver and sending a spray of lead towards their attacker.
A scream pierced the night and Preacher smiled " Looks like ya got him son."
The two men carefully approached the cabins,moving quickly and prepared to return fire should the gunman still have any fight left in him...he didn't.
Old Able lay bleeding on the ground,three of Alex's bullets had hit him,one in the chest,the old drunkard didn't have long.
Preacher kicked the pistol the old man had used to shoot at them away and took a knee in front of the dying man.
" Why Able?" Preacher asked
The old drunk coughed,blood frothing from his lips " I...I'm sorry" he sputtered.
" Who put you up to this?" Preacher asked " Holister?..Dunbrown?"
Old Able shook his head and coughed up more blood " Not them..it twas..was"
The drunkards eyes fixed as death took him.
Preacher made the sign of the cross and said a small prayer for the old man.
" Now what?" said Alex
" Mow we find Roy Holister" Preacher said heading back for his mount.
"Roy, you no good son of a whore, show yourself!" Alex yelled,as the two men entered the town proper.
Preacher chuckled lightly " Well,that's one way to get his attention" he said.
While Roy Holister didn't answer Alex's call,several others did.
" You fellas looking fer old Roy Holister?" an elderly man said eyeing the two men.
Preacher chuckled again. "What ever gave you that idea old timer?"
The elderly man looked a bit confused,but Alex spoke quickly " Yes sir,we are."
" Well" the old man said " ya won't find him over here...he done gone back...there." the elderly man pointed in the direction of the "other" side of town.
" Hell fire." Alex muttered.
"Hell fire is right boy" the old man said " that's just what you'll find over there." the elderly man cackled and walked away.
" So...do we go after him?" Alex said looking at Preacher.
" First ..I'ma go fix my shoulder up" Preacher said.
Michael heard the young man shout out and he winced. He woke Marie, who grabbed his wrist and heaved herself up.
He sat her back down and she nodded gratefully. Michael went to the window and saw the older man with the crucifix
around his neck head away towards the town clinic, he guessed by the blood dripping from his shoulder. Michael watched
the younger man walk away toward the stables. He crept out of the saloon and fell into stride about twenty metres behind
the old man. He followed the old man into an alleyway and then cursed himself as he found himself staring down the barrels
of two Colt .45s ...
OOC: One small correction wolfborn, not to be TFG,Preacher carries two Remington "outlaw" .45s ,not Colts...but NBD.
BIC:
" You got business with me boy?" Preacher said smiling at Michael,the barrels of Preachers pistols aimed straight at the young mans head.
Michael remained very still,but spoke in a confident manner " I just might sir,actually we may have mutual business..."
Preacher was impressed with the young mans bravado and decided to gamble that he wasn't just some bounty hunter,besides Preacher was fairly sure he was faster.
" All right son" Preacher said,lowering his guns slightly "What's on your mind?"
"Well sir, my companion and I hunt for a living. You are a man of faith, so I guess you know about the loss of Gallup and the suspect
circumstances there? The two are linked, good sir. We hunt the legions of the beast. I provide technology and hunter's supplies to
such like minded individuals and we occassionally help a vendetta against the dark one run its course. My partner Marie practices the
old Voodoo magicks sir and she is quite the impressive channeler. I was wondering whether we could offer our assistance in destroying
your target and in return you help clear one of ours. A mutual business agreement, if you think that. But you are a man of the Lord sir,
and as such I believe it is your duty to destroy the forces of the Beast. Does his venture appeal to you sir?"
Preacher listened to what Michael had to say,when the young man had finished his proposal Preacher nodded.
" Son." Preacher said " If you and your lady friend are in the business of hunting agents of the devil, then I'll gladly lend my guns to your endeavors."
Michael nodded " Pleased to hear that sir." he said
Preacher slid his pistols back into their holsters.
" I got a young man name of Alex ridding with me" Preacher said " Can't speak for him mind you,but I'd reckon he'd be interested as well."
Michael nodded again " I feel it would be prudent to perhaps find a safe place to discuss our plans,and to speak with your companion as well."
Preacher smiled " I know just the place,go get your lady friend and we'll head for Father Daileys out by the church."
Michael nodded and the two men begin to exit the alley.
From a nearby window they suddenly heard shouting,both men glanced up to see a man pointing a riffle out of the window.
"Hey Gregorio! Shut the hell up! We're leaving, we're leaving. Sheesh." Michael wiped some sweat from his brow and looked
the Preacher. He had his two Remingtons in his hands and was pointing them straight at Gregorio's head. He shook his head.
"Put away the guns gentlemen. There is no need to-" he was cut off by a gunshot which knocked Gregorio's Spencer from his
hand. He turned and saw Marie, her face cowled and looking a little annoyed. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"I heard de commotion and ah taught ya might need a hand Michael."
"Thanks Marie."
Gregorio was ticked, his prized weapon had been shot. He removed himself from the window and recovered his rifle, put his traditional garb on and loaded up with ammo and his two pistols.
He grumbled as he climbed to the top of his roof and began searching for the small group.
"It was that accursed witch." Gregorio thought to himself "A regular sin against god."
He scanned the ground below him and sighted a group of three moving through the town, one of them with what looked like a robe moving with two other unrobed figures.
"I'll show that witch." he said as he sighted in on the robed figure and fired.
The round hit, but the expected result didn't happen. The robed figure let out a scream of pain that sounded like a man, nothing close to what a woman would've sounded like.
Gregorio decided it would be best to get off of the roof before the fella's with the man found him and the trio he had yelled at before decided to try to do something about it.
Gregorio slipped down the side of the building and stealthed towards the site where he had seen the robed man go down.
"Roy, c'mon Roy" one of the figures with robed man said.
"You said this disguise should've worked." the robed figure said "What crap were you tryin to pull, I've been shot you son of a horned toad."
Gregorio thought about this, he had heard the name Roy being muttered by one of the newcomers and the Preacher.
"Were they with him or against him?" Gregorio thought rubbing his head.
He did decide that it would be best to hide for awhile to findout.
Preachers eyes moved quickly to Marie,he holstered his pistols and tipped his hat at the young woman " Ma'am" he said lightly.
Marie nodded at Preacher and spoke " Please ta meet ya I am." she turned to Michael " So what da plan den."
Michael answered " Well,Preacher feels we should adjourn to his friend Father Daileys abode,he can have his shoulder seen to and we shall all have a bit of time to get to know one another a bit better and more importantly,discuss strategies."
Marie nodded.
" Well let's get a move on then" Preacher said.
The three exited the alley in search of Alex.
As they entered the street they heard the sounds of gunfire from the roofs above and screams in the distance.
Preacher drew his pistols quickly. " C'mon!" he yelled to his companions as he took off running in the direction of the scream.
And so Billy returned to Waste Town again. It was getting late in the afternoon. Bill rode Lucifer on a slow gallop. No point in rushing, Waste Town is not changing any time soon.
Lucifer was getting jumpy, uncalm. Billy tried to calm it down by patting his horse, but Lucifer kept being un-restless.
At that moment He head gunshots.
"What now, I am in the middle of nowhere, no town to be seen, and right on this spot they just have to shoot at each other? Not now.
Billy had a slight headache.
There in the distance, he could make out a man running away. He was carrying a repeater carbine. The man started waving his carbine in a welcoming gesture.
Billy spurred his horse, heading for the man. Yet, the gunfire didn't stop, and Billy's headache either.
As he closed the distance between him and the man. Billy came in yelling reach.
The man yelled.
"Y'a gat ta help me Strangur! Bandits are roving our wagon train! please help us, the rest is just after that slope."
Billy headed towards the slope without saying a word.
The man, knowing the stranger was about to help him, yelled in gratitude.
"Thank tha guud Lord!"
Billy's headache got worse by hearing that name somehow.
Billy stopped his horse turned around and drew both his revolvers. And in one swift motion, he shot two bullets through the man's throat.
The gunfire was still going. As was his headache. Billy rushed his horse towards the slope. When he passed over the slope, he saw three wagons being attacked by 7 bandits. He recognized one of them. A big man in his late forties, leading the gang of bandits. SLick Nick, that was the man's name. Billy drove his horse towards the wagon train.
The people with the wagon train all had some kind of firearm for protection. But they had no experience with it. The bandits were just circling the wagon train. taking potshots at the defenders. Already the defenders had 3 dead amongst them. That made 8 more defenders left
Billy was closing in fast.
When he was within range, he drew both his revolvers and shot. another died, an old woman reloading a carbine.
"yeehaw!" Yelled Slick. Here come the legendary Billy, shooting left and right!"
a bullet fired by one of the defenders hit his Billy's torso, black blood sprang. it left a black stain on his old duster, but bily didn't feel the gunshot.
Billy kept speeding around the train, firing an occasional shot and killing another young man.
He drove Lucifer towards the second wagon now. WHen close enough, Billy jumped from his saddle onto the back of the wagon.
Billy saw two terrified men staring at him. He aimed both his revolvers to both the men. Two gunshots, Another two innocents died.
At that moment Slick's gang came closer and dismounted. killing another defender holding an old pistol. The three remaining travelers, an old man and two young women, dropped there arms and begged for mercy.
"Look what we have here boys an old man," Slick raised his gun and shot a bullet through the old man." and some young P*****s. "
Billy came towards the "Slick boyz", that was how they called themselves.
"Ah Billy, the star of the show, Mighty obliged! Here you get first pick."
Billy looked at the women, Then raised his revolvers.
"Now now, Billy leave some for us hey. They taste better alive, they do."
At that Billy holstered his revolvers, and looked at Slick Nick.
"Take whatever you need old friend, it's yours."
Slick Nick is one of Billy's few friends.
"You are too kind" said Billy in a sarcastic tone." It's getting late, we stay here tomorrow we move out.
None of the gangers was about to question Billy's orders. They knew full well if Billy was around, he was the actual gang leader, and not Slick.
"Well, if they are friends, that's one strange way of showing it." Gregorio thought to himself as he watched the gunfight erupt and lanterns beeing lit. The town was awakening, and it was due to these metallic roosters.
Gregorio could see the three he had shot at in cover and targeted one of them hiding behind a barrel. The round impacted and a spray of thick arterial blood spurted from the figure and halfway across the alley, drenching the sand as the figure clutched at its throat and gurgled.
A couple of shots hit the wall of the building he was on and Gregorio sprawled out to avoid being hit.
"Look boss!" A boy aged around 15 came running towards Billy and Slick, waving a brand new Evans Repeater. "I saw an old man holding this!"
The young boy stopped in his tracks as he saw a strange scarry man with a big hat. (Billy)
" You recruit children in your gang?" Said Billly
"He kept insisting he would be a real asset to tha gang, Billy."
"Name's Jericho." Said the boy.
Billy shot him an icy glare. But the boy didn't seem to be afraid. Billy started to like the kid.
"I don't have to intraduce ya to the rest, billy. You know everybody. We are all that's left of the gang. The rest 'retired' or just died." Said Slick.
"Any news from Waste Town while I was away?" Billy asked.
"haha! let us make a nice ad cosy campfire and we'll share you the rumors Billy!" Answered ol' Slick.
The roar of pistol fire echoed up the street,Preacher covered up as bullets impacted the stairway he was tucked behind,sending wooden splinters flying.
" Get movin' Roy" a voice in the distance said faintly.
Preacher tucked and squinted through a crack in the staircase,a robed figure was quickly limping away.
Preacher silently prayed "Lord guide my hand."
He shouted out to his companions " Cover!!" and rolled from behind the stairway.
Weapons fire explode all around Preacher as he aimed low at the robed figure and fanned his Remington sending a hail of lead at the retreating mans legs.
The robed figure tumbled screaming into the dust,another scream issued forth from just right of the fallen man,apparently one of Preachers companions had also gotten one of the dirty dogs.
" Stay down Roy!!" a powerful voice called out as a large man broke cover firing like wild as he attempted to reach the robed figure.
Bullets kicked up dust all around Preacher and he was forced to dive for cover again.
Preacher glanced over to where Michael and Marie had taken cover and hollered " We can't let them get away!!..."
"We can't let them get away!" Gregorio heard coming from a bit down the street.
"Time to get on somebody's good side." Gregorio thought to himself as he sent a round into the big guy going towards the downed robed figure.
The first round entered below the ribcage and the large man stiffened in shock before a following second round entered the heart and exited through the right lung. Blood foamed into the large man's mouth as he fell over Roy.
The sound of gunfire died and only the muffled moans coming from Roy could be heard. Many of the people living in the area had turned on the lights, but now many of them were turning them off.
Gregorio saw Preacher and the two newcomers get out of cover and move quickly towards Roy.
"Your welcome." Gregorio said rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"That's not impressive Gregory." Preacher said patronizingly "I also assume that you were just lucky enough to come upon this man and his accomplices this late at night?"
"Naturally Mr. Preacher sir." Gregorio said smiling and shouldering his rifle.
"There'll be no cut of any reward for you Gregory, I know what you're up to and greed's a deadly sin." Preacher said coldly.
"I wasn't doing it for any reward, I was..." Gregorio said innocently.
"I know you Gregory, you're an oppurtunist, a coward, a sinner, and not to mention your missing tooth." Preacher finished.
"An opportunist, eh?" Michael said amusedly. "So those drinks weren't exactly for free were they?"
"Not exactly free, but you turned out to be good people so I didn't press any further." Gregorio said with a mix of shame and anger.
"You helped us out here Gregorio," Michael said while almost holding Marie back "I guess we owe you one this time. Don't try it again though."
"Now Gregory, how did you come upon this whole event?" Preacher said with no emotion.
"You know me Preacher, I'm an opportunist like you said." Gregorio said trying to hide the real reason, "I heard the gunshots and thought I could earn some cash."
Michael looked at Gregorio. His heart wasn't in what he had said, but he nodded and kept to himself.
"Doesn't matter his original idea, he saved us. Thanks Greg." Gregorio said nothing.
"So what kinna trouble ya got me into dis time Michael? Ya still 'aven't paid me back for dat time with de succubus in Boston. Not good trouble but a nice girl after dat creep was out of de way."
Michael blushed furiously as Marie licked her lips. He sighed.
"We have a business agreement with Preacher here and his companion, who I do not know yet. Greg is ...
here. And why are you not hungover?"
Marie tapped the tip of her nose and grinned. "Fer ye ta find out one day Michael."
Preacher coughed and said, "I believe we should make our way to Father Dailey now?"
Michael and Marie nodded. "Yeah, I better tank 'im fer ta holy water. Very nice fer dis parts."
Jericho was starting the fire. Slick was talking to Billy and the rest was busy looting the wagons, or attending to their horses.
"The fire's going boss." Said Jericho. "aw aint that lovely. Come Billy lets settle down, and talk 'bout the daily business in waste town."
The 2 settled down, and with an appreciative nod from both Billy and Slick, Jericho settled down as well.
"Well what's there to tell." Slick told while scratching his dirty greying hair.
"Ah I know!" Slick said after about half a minute. Ol' Roy's doing fine. He went to the guud side a bit earlier. Said something of bootlegging. Yeah he is doing a great job since last time I checked him."
"Roy?" Bliiy sounded puzzled.
"Ya know, Hollister! da famous bootlegger. well, he did'nt became famous by bootlegging, oh no! He 's the most jumpy man in waste town, dat is."
"Oh yeah. Roy." Billy remembered.
Roy used to piss his pants whenever Billy glared at him.
"an' that's about the most important thing that happened since you left. Waste' 'll be livelier when you return, billy.
Slick turned to Jericho, who followed the conversation and kept the fire going.
"How was the loot, boyo?"
"yeh, it's alright. We got enough supplies to last us a few days, maybe even more than a week, me reckons. Oh, we also got some new guns now Slick." informed Jericho.
"Ain't that something" replied Slick.
and the three of them would talk about until nightfall.
Preacher walked over to where Roy Holister lay trembling, " Before we set off to Father Daileys..I believe we should deal with this low life dog".
Holister stared up into Preachers scared and smiling face and Begin crying,he knew well that Preacher was not known for being merciful...particularly with the likes of Roy.
The hammers of Preachers Remington's cocked back and Roy Holister found himself staring down the twin bottomless pits of the cold steel barrels.
" Wait Preacher" Michael said from behind " perhaps this foul soul could be of some use to us."
Preacher kept his attention on Holister,but spoke " How's that?"
" Information." Michael said " perhaps he has some he'd like to share."
Preacher nodded " How about it Holister...you think you have anything to say that might keep me from sending your mangy hide to hell?"
Roy Holister swallowed hard,his mind racing as he struggled with what his next words should be.
Preacher stared at the man " Your wasting our time Holister.",Preachers eyes narrowed.
"Wait!!" Holister bellowed " Yeah!!..Yeah!! I know alot of stuff...things that the others are planing."
Preacher looked bored " Well then start talking...I'm tired of looking at you."
" Well for one thing Preacher" Holister smiled " there's a woman over on the other side might know a little something about your boy."
Preacher spoke through gritted teeth,moving his face closer to Holisters " What woman?!"
" Aw no ..I don't tell ya that just yet." Holister said " That's my ace up my sleeve.."
Preacher kicked Holister hard in the face.
" Kill me and you'll never know" Holister screamed grabbing his shredded lips " And believe me...ya wanna know...your boy is getting a right good education..oh yes indeed."
" You no good rotten son of a.." Preacher said
Holister cut him off " Let me go..let me go and I'll tell you how ta find her...get ya closer ta finding yer boy."
Preacher holstered his pistols and pulled out his Bowie knife " Your going to tell me what you know Holister...or by God I'll skin you alive."
Billy, Slick, Jericho and the others ate their bellies round. after that, Slicks gang began telling tales to each other. Each and every one of them trying to impress their fellow gangers with impressive, murderous stories.
Billy wouldn't participate in this. He sat some distance from the gang. in meditation so the others would say.
Billy sat in one of the wagons, the blood of the 2 men billy shot in this wagon splattered across the walls. He tried to seek some answers to some questions he had.
Billy threw some knuckle bones on the wooden flooring and he mumbled some words.
"Is it?"
...
Is it true?
...
"Yes."
...
"The riders of the apocalypse."
...
...
...
Then finally he spoke, Yelled actually.
By Satan I swear! I'll raise a 13 man gang, called the Riders of the Apocalypse, and Waste town will be mine!"
The Slick gang looked in his direction before continuing feasting.
"Hmm, skinning not a good idea after dark. Undead can smell a recent death a league off."
Preacher looked at Michael, exasperately. Michael shrugged.
"I tink der's a betta way," said Marie. "Take 'im to da church and let Father Dailey take 'im. We need ta git off da streets, da natural wards on dis side of town are weak ta'night.
Not safe by any mon's liking."
" I suppose ya'll are right." Preacher said sheathing his Bowie knife and unslinging his scatter gun.
He pointed the .12 gauge at Holister and spoke to Michael. " Bind that dirty dog up tight,don't even give him room to wriggle...we'll take him to Father Daileys with us..then I'm gonna get my answers."
Michael ran to fetch a rope to tie Holister up from his mount,Preacher stood glaring at the man " If you so much as flinch while he ties you up...I'm going ta give ya both barrels in your face...you understand me!?"
Holister nodded and spat blood on the ground " Don't worry Preacher...I'll be a good boy..for now." Holister grinned
Preacher debated on blowing Holisters head off right there,but Michael appeared and in short order had the wounded man bound tightly.
" Let's get moving." Michael said " we need to get to the church."
" Aye" Marie added " Der a true air o forboddin in da wind ta'night...it be best we make haste."
The group moved quickly to their mounts,after a moment of struggling to get Holister onto his horse,they were off into the night ridding for the church.
The church loomed high in what consisted of the town's skyline. A chill wind whipped around them
and a pale yellow cresent moon hung low in the sky. Marie shivered slightly as they pushed aside the
heavy oak doors and stepped forward into the hall. Cold stone was displaced by the low glint of candle
light from the pulpit and an older man in priest's robes stood in front of a golden crucifix beside the dais.
"Father Dailey I presume?" called out Michael, and the man turned to face them. Michael's mouth fell open
and then he grinned. "Or do you still go by Connor MacDowell?"
"Michael Macleod?! You're still alive then?" Michael stepped forward a embraced the old priest.
"How have you been you old waster? Nice to see someone alive from the 24th again. I thought
we all went down after the outbreak after Gettysburg. So you're a priest now?"
"Nigh on ten years now. So you the hunter that Gregorio was blabbing about? And is that the pretty lady
Marie?" He took her hand and kissed it. "It's nice to see you again ma'am." He nodded to Preacher who
stayed quiet and watched the exchange with interest. "So what can this old man do for you this dark night?"
Preacher took in the conversation between Father Dailey and Michael,apparently they had been friends at some point during the war...good friends by the looks of it.
Preacher puzzled a moment over why Father Dailey had never told him of his true identity or much of his past,but he assumed his reasons were good ones....in the years Preacher had known Father Dailey...or was it MacDowell now?, he had always been the man Preacher trusted most.
" It doesn't matter for now" Preacher thought to himself " In time he'll explain every thing"
Preacher spoke up " Father Dailey" he said pushing Roy Holister forward roughly " He says he knows where my boy might be."
The Priest looked compassionately at Preacher,knowing the pain the man felt over the brutal deaths of his family at the hands of the dark powers and the abduction of his surviving son.
" He may well be lying to you my son" the Priest said to Preacher "But we shall see ...there may be more here than meets the eye."
OOC: I'm going to attempt to jump start this RP buy adding a bit of "demonic fun".
BIC:
Father Dailey turned to the kneeling form of Roy Holister,the Priest cautiously took a step forward speaking lowly as he moved.
" Now" Father Dailey said " what is it that you know concerning my friends poor boy?"
Holister said nothing,his head hung limply facing the cobble stone floor.
" The boy." Father Dailey said,his voice rising in the gloom of the church " You must answer me...what do you know about my friends missing boy?"
Holister begin to rock back and forth,a low guttural growl escaping his lips.
Father Dailey stepped back quickly " Dear Lord".
Holisters head snapped up,his flesh had gone a necrotic grey,his eyes as black as coal, a thin line of spittle ran down his chin as he spoke. " The boy is ours Holy Man..he writhes in the abyss...knowing pleasures and pains you only dream of."
" Oh mah Lord" Marie gasped stepping closer to Michael.
The body of Roy Holister contorted unnaturally,twisting and undulating it rose from the stone floor,arms outstretched in an obscene parody of the cross behind it,it's booted toes dragging the ground as it drifted closer.
" Come followers of the wretched Nazerine..come and know MY church!!" the Holister thing roared.
A lone caravan wound it's way across the desert. Shaun had been tracking it for a couple of days, and he was certain it was lost. The wagon seemed to be going in no particular direction, and kept veering off randomly, as if searching for something.
Shaun rode up to it slowly, his hands resting neatly on the holsters of his pistols.
A man popped out of the wagon, and after panicking initially from spotting a man appearing from nowhere, waved Shaun over frantically.
"H-howdy stranger!, I don' suppose you could tell us where we are?" the man asked, smiling sheepishly.
Shaun dismounted, and clambered up onto the Wagon, and peered into the back. Lots of rations, and lots of water. A bundle of blankets turned out to be a sleeping child. Even Shaun wouldn't sink that low.
"Ya alright, if ya go in this direction for about thirty miles, you'll hit Waste town. But I gotta warn you, it's not a nice play to be."
With that he dismounted again, completely conscious that the man had been gripping a pistol the whole time.
"Thanks oldtimer, and goodbye."
Shaun was ready to die. He closed his eyes and waited for the click of the hammer.
Marie's eyes began to glow white as the spirit of Ghede filled her. When she spoke, another calmer voice spoke in the room.
"Hold ta dat spot, foul wretched serv'nt of weaker bein's. Death walks amongst ya dis night and calls ya back ta da pit." The
Hollister thing froze to the spot and its eyes widened in confusion.
"What did you do witch? Release me else I flay your soul and devour it as I defile your body!" Michael and Preacher growled
at it and Preacher pulled out his pistols, firing both full chambers into the daemon. It screamed as silver pierced its hide.
Michael pulled out his rifle and shoved a bullet into the breech. "Hell thing of the fiery pit, know the way in which you fell.
This is a .22 caliber bullet, made from silver from a melted down crucifix from Lancaster Cathedral in England. Inside the shell
is blessed mercury and white oak and the moulds were cooled in holy water from the spring at Lourdes. Now in the words of
the Lord God, "I will execute terrible vengeance against them to punish them for what they have done. And when I have
inflicted my revenge, they will know that I am LORD!" He pulled the trigger.
The good people of waste town settled down for the night. It was dark on the streets except some lit candles strewn around the good side.
Suddenly, the inhabitants got shaken by the sound of gunfire, sounding trough the night.
Then nothing, all but the graverobbers slept trough the night.
end of day 1 I will take it your characters found a safe place to sleep, be it in a church, a brothel or the dessert. From now on your characters will wake up as this is now DAY 2
Preacher lowered his pistols,the acrid stench of gunpowder stinging his nostrils.
The thing that had been Roy Holister lay twitching on the church floor,several raged holes torn through it's body along with one smaller hole through it's skull.
Preacher stepped closer to the fiend as it spasmed,black ichor pouring from it's wounds,he pointed his scatter gun at the things head and crossed himself.
" My Boy?..Tell me." Preacher said " Where is he?"
" In Hell!" came the gurgled reply.
Preacher squeezed the triggers of the .12 gauge,vaporizing the head of the creature in a hammer smash of explosive gore.
A single tear ran slowly down Preachers scared cheek as the sun rose slowly outside.
Michael and Marie knelt beside the body, Marie looking exhausted. Michael crossed himself and laid a hand on the corpse's chest.
"Siceo in pacis, filius de vir." Marie started humming and chanting softly as Michael poured a flask of holy water onto the body and
the party watched as a pale blue vapour rose from the rapidly vanishing ichor oozing from Hollister's wounds. Michael turned to
Preacher, who had a few small tears in his eyes. "Something tells me the daemon was lying to you. An innocent cannot be sent to
hell unless the child is possessed as the body dies. Even if that is true, the daemon would have had to have been willingly summoned by
your boy himself." Marie nodded.
"Dinnae gae up hope ser. We'll find 'im and send the darkness back to the pit once again."
I am giving this RPG a kickstart, and I am looking for players. Here is a checklist on what to do.
-everybody already in this RPG, finish your bussinesses.
- all new players will need to post their character description(as noted in the original post).
- New players will also need to come up with an introductionary post, to get your character in the flow of this RPG
-New players willhave to post an introduction of at least twenty sentances. (I know, this looks like school. But there's no point in you writing something on you killing a random thug or good christian, and the walk away, with a smile/evil grin on you face.)
-New players will have to re-read all the previous posts.
-New players will have to put up a picture of your character. This can be from the internet, or you could give it a try to draw it yourself!
@Wolfborn: Yeah an event will come up when there are enough players again. Do you know any roleplayers on dakka that aren't in this one yet? Ask 'em over.
I got a nice event worked out. We just need enough players.
Meh I am in the zombie RP too. But I did had to come up with a good storyline/background for this one. IMHO, this is the best RP I produced, Background wise.
Name: Ghost Age: 19 Equipment: Twin .357 Magnum Revolvers, mask, twin gold knives, satans symbol pendant, mask that he wears all the time that was handcrafted by himself to hide his identity. Mount: Black Horse, satans symbol branded on body, called "Curse". Faith: Satanic History: He has no idea, a herd of cattle trampled his body and he forgot all his past life, he found salvation in worshipping Satan and so he does Satans working, killing innocents, making others life a misery, he gave himself the name Ghost as he is almost never seen and when he has a target, that person will not live for long... Appearence: Long dusty Jacket always up, wears mask all the time, and has a black stetsun, blonde hair.
Ghost walked allong the dusty, barren wasteland, remembering what he must do, Maurith had told him that he must stop this train and kill the infidels inside. He stopped, and listened, he heard the train, but it was a long way away, he still had time. Staring into the distance, he saw a suitable sniper point, perfect.
As soon as he was there, he set up the point, and took out his Springfield, he had quite a lot of ammo on it, so he would not have to face that trouble. He stood still, and listened again, it was getting closer, he was running out of time, quickly, he got behind cover and made himself comfortable.
Ghost could now see the train, and saw little specks inside it that were his targets. It drew closer, closer, closer, and now he had to do it, otherwise he would run out of time. He looked through the sights on the Springfield, and saw the driver, if he was lucky then the shot would make the driver.
He started to put pressure on the trigger, and then squeezed it tight. The driver slumped over and Ghost knew he was dead.
Now the race began.
Thier were not that many passengers on the train, he could get them all if he was fast.
Name: Purifier
Age: appears to be about 30, otherwise, nobody knows.
Equipment: A model 1850 sword inscribed with the words, "where there is evil, I bring justice", a bowie knife, two Remington’s .44, 5 small silver knifes he uses to "purify his enemies", a small bible, crucifix, holy water, water (don’t worry, the different flasks are marked), food, misc, like a tent (hay, he's from out of town)
Mount: a goat. Na got you, he has a grey horse.
Bio: He goes from town to town killing and cleansing, even if he leaves the town empty and ablaze as he leaves. He wears a hat that he got from his father, his parents died after getting killed by a zombie; he killed the zombie with his father’s rifle. This started a life of zealous work to "purify the unclean".
I can’t seem to find a pic that represents him well, use your imagination.
He walk swiftly out of the house, not a sound came from within, their was nothing left to scream.their was a small boy cowering in the coner of the yard.
'That was much easyer than it looked' he said. 'Do you follow the light'?
The boy was not quite shore what to reply to this, but judging how long it took for this strange man to despell with that nightmare that was once his mother, he thought that he should feel thankful. 'I don't like to kill children' said the Purifier. I a stunning movement, he was only an breath away from the boys face, holding one of his Remingtons to his temple. This snaped the boy into action. he noddend so hard that his head could have come off. 'I can see from your face, your clean. You ae to come with me.'
'Were' stamered the boy.
'To holy ground. this is no place for a boy'
BIO: in the year 0 when christ died,and god was weakened,the Devil took hes own chance by creating a prophet,for his own "church"
but something y went terribly wrong with at the end the prophet (a deamon) fell in love on an female angel (in fact,anti-deamon)
and they got kiddies,God and the Devil where so ****** off they sended entire armes of deamons and angels after to hunt down
the outcast deamon and his offspring. only the youngest child survived,Archax. When he learned the truth of his family's murderers,
he started carving a bloody path trough god and devils highest servant (ie:lucifer,gabriel...) He has just found out one of his targets
is hiding in the badlands... Let the killing begin!
appearance:despite having cut of his bat-like wings (that regrow every day) for looking much strange amongst other people
he has some rare traits: height: 1.90M weight:nada,it makes him move silent all the time,flaming red eyes
clothes: having fought from the roman era to now,he wears an reinforced and ancient armor,hidden under rags and a long jacket
weapons: My Blasphemious Wrath: an customised handgun,able to fire 14mm "ripper" bullets,with an explosive tip,cased in silver
Throatripper: an under-arm mounted silver blade
affection:neutral in fact(he doesn't involves in human bussineses),he resides in the satanic part (where he is less likely to be discovered)
phew... this is what you get when combining,assasins creed,legion and western
(note:his pic is not completed yet,i still need to color the rest)
Scrazza wrote:true, but that doesn't matter with RP's.
Don't be so sure. But believe in yourself more. But listen to me because I'm right. But don't ever listen to anything Darkvoidof40k says. That guy is really great. But he is also a tw*t sometimes.
Bleh! I hypotizeth you!
Edit: there I go again, starting new pages.. on threads that are supposedly dead.. meh meh meh.
all right then. Just keep roleplaying for a while then. Hendaron, you can start of with an introduction RP and then just go from there. We got enough players to begin with, so I'll start writing down the first draw of some minor events.
Just to keep things clean, wouldn't it be better of I forgot about this one, and start a new one? Same Idea, but just 'New'. you guys can keep your characters, But I am going to set up 'The Badlands 2'
Scrazza wrote:Just to keep things clean, wouldn't it be better of I forgot about this one, and start a new one? Same Idea, but just 'New'. you guys can keep your characters, But I am going to set up 'The Badlands 2'
fine , as I didn't read the previous posts,I dont care
).
