Chapter 1: An Ill Guest Arrives

[DM-Tareth]

Malakai Wallace

ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

---

With a full belly and feeling thankful that the rain decided to move on, Malakai leans back against his saddle and pulls out his pipe. After filling the wooden bowl and lighting it from a brand in the fire he offers the pouch to the leader of the Yuma. Letting the smoke drift up around his head and into the night, the old prospector breathes with a bit of relief as he sees Sloan looking a bit better despite the ordeal of having the bullet removed. Seeing the bit of lead put him to thinking and turns a thoughtful look to the indian chief.

"When we were talkin' earlier of Davy and his band of cutthroats, it sounded like you've had your own run in with his gang. Care to tell us what happened?" He asks morbidly curious about what misery the bandit brought down upon these folk.

*********

The following morning, he is up as soon as the early twilight starts to brighten the eastern horizon. By the time the sun is just beginning to creep over the horizon, his horse is saddled, gear stowed, and his trusty rifle cleaned and loaded. When the Yuma chief points out the trail, Malakai once again thanks him and all his people for their hospitality before turning to his companions. "Ready to ride?"

 

 

[prophane]

Sloan "Sledgehand" Turlough pugilist

---

HP: 6/13 FP: 11/11

---

Sloan is very appreciative of the Yuma's ministrations and feels much better for it. In the morning, he is ready to ride and pretends like his injury never happened, though a close eye on him still reveals the occasional grimace or painful pause as he overextends himself.

---

OOC

Sloan's natural recovery roll vs HT 10+2

vs 12

guess that's a big no on any additional HP! 6 it is!

Edited February 16 by prophane (see edit history)

[Bobcloclimar]

Mickey sleeps fitfully, trusting the leader of the band at his word but still wary of the less contented amongst the others. The following morning, as they break camp, he asks the leader for directions to the two camps where he mentioned Davy holds up.

[matt_s]

20 hours ago, DM-Tareth said:

"When we were talkin' earlier of Davy and his band of cutthroats, it sounded like you've had your own run in with his gang. Care to tell us what happened?"

One of the older men shrugged and spat into the dirt.

The short of it is, the depredations of his former gang - the Glanton Gang that is, around 1850 - just happened to be on our land. Now they had been at blows with Apache and Comanche down in Mexico and Texas after the 1848 war and indeed with whomever was nearby. But it was only near the end of their reign of terror that we ran across them. They had set up a camp at a crossing a good ways South of here that sat along the route to California - this was during the Gold Rush, you see - and were robbing anyone who went across it. They had arranged to meet with some of our people to cut a deal of some sort of details I do not recall but they never meant to make a deal or that's how I make it. Glanton and his men instead ambushed the party and then burned several of our villages to drive us off.

But he miscalculated. We gathered a war party, not one like this, this is just a group of scouts really but one of many dozens and stormed his camp and killed or drove off the brigands. One of the survivors was Davey.

 

3 hours ago, Bobcloclimar said:

he asks the leader for directions to the two camps where he mentioned Davy holds up

You get useful directions to the camps. To reach either, first you have to proceed two days North. Then it is two days West to the spring or one day Northeast to the ford. You are confident you can make your way to either without getting lost traveling by day.

[DM-Tareth]

Malakai Wallace

ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

---

The previous evening...

Malakai listens intently to the native's story and nods along in grim satisfaction at the tale's conclusion. For a few moments he sits there puffing his pipe, letting the smoke swirl across his face and through his mind. Finally he turns to the leader of the Yuma band, his eyes gleaming in the dying light of the fire.

There was one thing that worried him the most about this chase. With only the three of them left, they could end up badly outgunned once they finally caught up to Davey and his gang of cutthroats. "I can't speak for my partner's, but would any of your braves be interested in taking the fight to Davey? Sounds like there's still a score to settle between the Yuma and his gang, and we could sure use an extra gun or two." He pauses, his gaze turns out over the darkness of the landscape. "You get any idea of how many riders you spotted or were on that trail you crossed?"

 

 

 

 

[matt_s]

On 2/11/2024 at 1:17 PM, DM-Tareth said:

"You get any idea of how many riders you spotted or were on that trail you crossed?"

The leader glowered. There were thirteen. A foul number by your people's reckoning I believe. Perhaps an inversion or tribute to your faith's leaders. Yes, we know your language, your creeds. The missionaries from the Spanish and many others have tried to force us to find succor in those words but we endure as we have been in a fashion.

But this task is the business of your people. We can defend our own and will do so. You claim you have the right as sovereign over these lands. If that is the case, then ought the law secure itself in its own dominion? Not for nothing did some frontier magistrate pin those stars on your companion's fine jackets.

[prophane]

Sloan "Sledgehand" Turlough pugilist

---

HP: 6/13 FP: 11/11

---

Sloan nods at the Yuma's words, "Hmm, he's got the right of it. That there's our job. Thank ye again fer yer hospitality, friends." He looks at the others, "Reckon it's time we got to doing what we're here ta do, let's ride." Though not anywhere near back to normal, Sloan looks MUCH better this morning.

---

OOC

 

 

 

 

Edited February 16 by prophane (see edit history)

[Bobcloclimar]

Mickey listens to the Yuma's vehement words and scratches at his beard, clearly discomfited by the casual dismissal of his faith, but keeps it to himself. He finally brings himself to say "Ken't say yer rong 'bout tha'. Thanks fer yer 'ospital-i-tee, an', er, good luck t'ya'll."

[DM-Tareth]

Malakai Wallace

ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

---

A frown furrows Malakai's face when he hears how many riders are running with Davey. Not out of superstition, but because three to one odds weren't something to which he took a liking. Especially where hot lead was involved. He listens to the rest of what the Yuma says and offers a quick shrug of his shoulders.

"I don't blame you fer not wantin' to get involved. After all our folk ain't brought yours nothing but trouble most days." He says. Then smiles. "Still, just a day ago I was only a wandering gold digger gone bust and headin' back to town. Now I'm running with deputies and chasin' after one of the areas most notorious scoundrels. So I reckin it don't hurt to ask. You just never know what fate has in store for ya." Like the others, he thanks the natives for their hospitality and medicine and then rides out after Mickey and Sloan.

 

 

 

 

[matt_s]

On 2/16/2024 at 3:42 PM, DM-Tareth said:

"You just never know what fate has in store for ya."

The leader regards him with silent reproach for a moment. We know all too well how the fortunes can change. The passage of time is malignant at times, I think. But every day the sun rises as a gift to us, and the shadows are cast then vanish at midday then grow again. The land endures. Maybe you will as well. Maybe you will not.

The Yuma watch silently as the deputies depart. They stare after them as if watching strangers from another land another time depart from the here and now. Then, in the distance, they can see the Yuma move away into the distance.

Sloan is still rather worse for wear in a manner befitting a man on the receiving end of a gunshot all too recently but he no longer teeters on the precipice of death. And he can ride with the rest no trouble carrying the memory of the gunshot and its wounding with him every furlong of the way.

They return to the main path and then proceed along it for a day and a half. It is much as the Yuma said it would be with the telltale marks of its passage across the land exactly as prescribed by the old man who had drawn the route in charcoal the night they made camp together.

Near the end of the second day, they reach the location of the fork. Unless they wished to press on deep into the night, now was the time to decide whether to break for the river crossing or the inland camp.

 

[DM-Tareth]

Malakai Wallace

ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

---

Malakai's spirits are high as they set out from the Yuma camp, visions of reward money and winning the favor of Miss Kitty's father dance in his head. But as the day passes, the heat of the desert cooks away those dreams like meat from a drying carcass. He can't shake those looming odds and can't help but ask himself, what good is a reward if your bones are feeding the coyotes? But he keeps his fears to himself, not wanting to look weak in front of the two stoic deputies. Instead he focuses on keeping to the trail up until it comes to the split the old Yuma talked about.

"Given that storm, the odds are slim there'll be any useful signs of which way Davey and his boys took, but I'll search about a bit and see what I can find." He says to his two companions as he dismounts and carefully starts reconnoitering the two trails.

Tracking (13)

 

 

 

Edited February 20 by DM-Tareth (see edit history)

[matt_s]

At the crossroads

Near as Malakai can tell, the group split down the middle, half going to the ford, half to the hidden camp. The best they could guess would be that the half going to the ford would reinforce any bandits there who were waylaying travelers to the West. And then the other half going to the camp would be dropping off the loot along with any wounded before resting, resupplying, and then heading to either the ford or elsewhere to do some wicked deeds.

Knowing what they did of Davey, they were pretty sure that he would personally make sure the loot was returned and divided to his own satisfaction at the camp.

 

[prophane]

Sloan "Sledgehand" Turlough pugilist

---

HP: 6/13 FP: 11/11

---

"Hmm, I think we should maybe take care of the outriders first, whittle down the help first before taking on Davey? Maybe even be able to lay an ambush for the ambusher," Sloan muses. "Without their leader with them, they may not have as much fire in their bellies, and then once we've taken them out, Davey won't have as much backup."

---

OOC

 

 

 

 

Edited February 25 by prophane (see edit history)

[DM-Tareth]

Malakai Wallace

ST: 11 | DX: 11 IQ: 10 | HT: 10 | Will: 11 | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.25 | Move: 5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 9 (Brawling) / 8 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

---

"The angels must be smilin' upon us boys." Malakai says with a nod toward Slaon's plan. "Since Davey's split his men up fer us, we should oblige by takin' full advantage. I agree, let's ride quick for the ford."

 

 

 

[matt_s]

The ride along the trail

Their horses were nudged along the trail such as it was towards the ford. After making camp for the night, they followed the beaten dirt track for some hours as the morning light blossomed into full dawn. Anointed and consecrated by the rain upon that parched and ancient desert earth the arroyos had overflowed and when they had to be crossed the horse's hooves made great schlupping sounds as they made their way through the new mud. Cacti that were more brown than green if they were green at all now were adorned with pale white flowers that opened their botanical anatomy with names in Latin and languages besides that they might have known long ago.

 

The trail before noon merged with a wagon track, this wagon track being worn recently by the rattling and dragging of prospectors, settlers, and refugees seeking a fortune in far West of California the American land of milk and honey if the ads in the paper were to be believed and they were not to be believed.

On this track they continued until in the distance some several hundred yards away they saw a broken down wagon complete with oxen team and a shape which may have been a man pacing back in forth in some consternation.

Crunch

If you wish to sneak closer to get a better look, roll stealth. If you want to make better sense of the state of the wagon, roll an appropriate vehicle skill or riding at -2. IQ roll to observe from where you are. Other plans - let me know and it'll be worked out. You are about four hours or so from the ford at this point at a standard traveling pace.