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Beef, Blood and Brotherhood

Del 4: Game Session no. 3

Tuesday december the 14th, in the lords year 1875
Cottonville, Runnels County, Texas

James woke up, face to face with a hat, that looked surprisingly much like his own, he blinked, the hat transformed into a chamber pot of all things? He carefully, since every single movement hurt, pushed the offending piece of porcelain away from his face and blinked into the darkness. There were only faint contours visible, and what he saw simply made no sense. Last night he had fallen asleep in the stables, but this didn´t look like the stables, nor did it smell like the stables. Instead there were two beds, one on either side of him, and someone was snoring, or maybe breathing heavily. The next thing he noted was that there was a terrible stench, that surprisingly was wafting of him. With more effort than grace he sneaked to the window and pulled away the curtain slightly, illuminating the room finding, Ismael and Matt sleeping. Matt was snoring.
Looking out the window he saw an unfamiliar outhouse and the sunrise that was carefully crawling up over the horizon. In the end he concluded that since Ismael and Matt were there, there was no reason for worry, however, there was a district need for some sanitary actions. Immediate sanitary actions. Carefully creeping out the room he headed down the stairs, and out on town, the stable was boarded up but he washed up and crawled back to bed.
Waking up Matthew concluded that James had been up and about, which was not so surprisingly a relief. Most notably because he had washed of the damned stench, say what you want, but his friend had not smelled like fresh lilies in a crystal-clear pond. More like week old garbage under the Arkansas sun, in high summer.
The small hostel offered a breakfast that can most accurately be described as cozy and the five men ate breakfast with all the elegance and grace expected of a pack of starving wolves tearing into a carcass. During breakfast Kames had several questions that were answered to no-one’s satisfaction. There were still too many question marks, still too much information missing. In the middle of the discussion about what to do next, movement caught Ismael’s attention, or maybe it was the pinprick of forewarning, honed by blood-soaked experience. He had gotten a fleeting impression from the edge of his vision, but he knew that man from the previous night. When the dark-haired stranger had caught his attention, the same way Ismael had apparently caught his. Now the man was on his way out the door to the hostel.
‘I need to hit the loo.’ He mumbled and slid between Joshes chair and the wall, before following his prey utterly missing James muttered reply that he too needed some fresh air.
When they reunited it was to the scent of smoke and the news that Isamel had seen what he believed to be a suspicious looking gun man leaving town, heading west. Trusting Ismael’s instincts that there was something off with the man, Matthew offered to take chase. Nate and Josh, stayed in Cottonville in order to, hopefully pay the widows room an un-supervised visit and gain some information.


Tales of Cottonville
Josh and Nate watched, as a pale looking James, a determined looking Ismael and Matthew, who looked as if he was all but chewing on the bit to get going left Cottonville behind. Josh turned to Nate.
‘You got any more of those smokes?’ He nodded towards the lone cigarillo resting between the first and second finger of Nates right hand. Nate tapped off the ash before replying.
‘No, this is the last one, and Matt took his with him. The uncivilized bastard…’
‘I could go buy some more.’ Josh offered.
‘With what money?’ Nate asked, but he was already pulling money from his pocket, knowing that there would be no peace until the young man had gotten his way. The money disappeared into teenage hands, and the heavily armed youngster disappeared in the direction for the store.
Whilst browsing for smokes and mentally arguing over what else to steal Josh all but stumbled over a collection of familiar looking fishing rods and the previous line of thought was abandoned, instead he turned to the shop keeper.
‘Is fishing popular around here?’ Clearly nut suspecting the question, the clerk answered none the less, and whilst complementing the goods and spending Nates money on smokes Josh was informed that the saloon owner across the street did in-fact have an interest in fishing and had bought one of these fishing rods, one that looked just like the one we had found the previous day.
A few minutes later, Nate and Josh watched in a state of dismay as Mrs Stiller exited the hotel, carpetbags in hand, heading towards the stagecoach. Nate, being a gentleman took the opportunity to escort her to the coach and inquire into her plans. She ensured a blushing Nate that she was very much hoping that he would continue to pursue her husbands killer and that, when the task was completed. He would be able to find her in Santa Fé. The coach left just as Josh sauntered up to Nate.
‘Hey, here is a fistful of smokes, you want one?’
‘Why not?’ Nate accepted and lit up. ‘A fistful of dollars wouldn´t sit to bad either!’
‘About that, I know someone we should talk to, come along old man!’
The saloon across from the store had a sign worn by weather and wind to the point where it simply stated ‘saloon’, and he interior was a few shades less well kept than the ‘Red feather’ down the street. But with a cloud of smoke they entered none the less, a dramatic scene that was utterly lost on the sleeping barkeeper. Like the well-behaved boys they are they stole half a bottle of whiskey, poured three glasses and sat down at the table where the man was sleeping. Waking him up turned to be easy and after actually paying for the whiskey, the man appeared to be in a better mood. Until the questions started.
’I think I have found your fishing rod. J.D, that is you.’ Josh played with his glass, his finger itching for movement.
‘Yeah, that might be mine.’ The barkeeper answered, a bit non-comittaly, whilst pouring more whiskey for himself. ‘It was stolen a few days ago.’ Decker continued, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
‘You saw something didn´t you?’ Josh asked, leaning in a bit, crowding the much older man before continuing. ’It is not you we are after.’ Decker downs his shot of whiskey, Josh does the same concluding it is terrible, and half dilated. But he has had worse.
‘I didn´t do nothing, I just saw something.’ The words appear to slip out before Decker have time to consider the consequences. ’You have nothing to do with him, the murdered that is?’
‘No, we are here to solve it.’ Nate reassures, urging Decker to continue, but he is not convinced.
‘You won´t say nothing?’ Deckers knuckles are turning white around the neck of the whiskey bottle.
‘Give us another drink and we definitely won’t tell.’ Nate nods towards the bottle and push his glass over the table. The drink is poured, and the deal sealed with spit, a handshake and a glance to the heavens.
Deckers story was shared over several glances over his shoulder, and a couple of drinks, but the gist of it was pretty straight forward. He was out fishing, heard a shot go of, went to check it out, as he was moving, another shot went off and he still thought it was a good idea to get involved. So, he crept over a hill and saw a fairly average man putting fancy clothes on a corpse. Neither the murderer not the victim was familiar, bu the murderer was a man of average build, with dark hair and a dark har, dusty from the road. Decker followed as the man hoisted the corps on a horse, rode away and buried something before riding onwards. Decker un-earthed the revolver that was missing from the holster we had found previously and ran home. After some urging Josh and Nate managed to convince Decker to produce the weapon, which he did, with the offer to sell it. It was a converted Remington Marine with a mother-of-pearl butt and the inscription ‘L. Alderson’. Which confirmed our theory that the body in the casket is not Mr Stiller. Josh, being something of an expert concluded that the weapon was serviceable, but it was made to look good and be impressive, probably owned by someone who needed the shine to show off, rather than someone who lived and died by the quickness of their draw. Nate bought the gun for the sum of $10, and they left the saloon, heading back to the hostel.

On the road West
Picking up the trail was a breeze, since the rider was riding parallel to the bloody coaching road, which either meant he was stupid or interested in the coach. When in doubt, assume that your prey is smarter than you are, even if it’s a bloody deer, otherwise you will be disappointed. We followed the track, and it wasn’t until we spotted the metallic reflection of sunshine on gunmetal that we stopped, our prey had camped out in a pile of boulders, aiming for the road. Not knowing if we were stepping straight into an ambush, we left the horses behind and approached on foot. The shooter was startled from his hiding spot, and Matthew gave chase, Ismael and James falling behind. The chase ended fairly abruptly when the rider simply stopped and turned, leaving the two of us staring at each other from 200 meters, waiting. Ismael caught up first, then James who had struggled into his old cavalry coat.
Doing his best imitation of their captain, James shouted for the man to surrender, but it was forts when Ismael, with a voice carried forth by self-assuredness and ease of command urged the man to listen to James, that he actually did. When we closed in, James, thank you my dear friend, lied his ass of, assuring the man that this was official business. To which we were informed that he didn´t believe us one iota, but would play along none the less. The man, who introduced himself as Ross, was relieved from his well-kept cavalry sable, Remington Rolling Block Rifle and Rodgers and Spencer revolver.
Ross, though admitting that he was indeed a gun-man for hire, claimed that he was just passing through Cottonville, just like us. Though unwilling, Ross was escorted back through the rain towards Cottonville.

Tillagd 9 dec 2019   Noveller   #Egenupplevt #Rollspel #Geeky/nördigt

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