Historical Earth Blood Moon Gulch: A Supernatural Western

An old cowboy went ridin' out one dark and windy day
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw
Plowin' through the ragged skies and up a cloudy draw

​

North Wyoming
The 19th Century

The kid paused for a moment, looked down at his drink, and asked the question he'd been waiting to ask all night. “You ever been down to Blood Moon Gulch?”

The old man's head didn't move. His face was still, as if he'd been expecting those words. He took a sip from his glass of whiskey, and set it back down on the bar. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I been there.”

The kid perked up, surprised he got even that much out of the conversation. “I heard stories. 'Bout all the funny things that happen there.”

“Hm. Funny.”

“I heard a man been hanged there, they say his body was still for hours. And when they finally come to cut him down from the tree, he just pulled out a knife and cut himself down, then killed the men that come to get his body. You ever heard o' that?”

The old man shook his head, took another drink.

“And it ain't just that. I heard a bunch other things, too. Someone told me they seen a man turn into a wolf. Just right there! One second he was just a normal man, then fur started comin' out of his skin and-”

The old man put his index finger up to his lips.

“...and,” the kid whispered, moving closer, “and he grew twice the size he was! With fangs and yellow eyes and claws instead of hands. You ever seen somethin' like that?”

The old man responded by taking another drink.

The kid sighed and looked around. “I'm leavin' in the mornin'. I wanna see it for myself.”

“The Gulch ain't no place for a boy like you to get mixed up in. That town belongs to the devil himself.”

“I ain't scared.”

“Boy, you don't even know what scared is. Go there and you'll sure as hell find out. Stay away if you know what's good for you.”

The kid pursed his lips, took a swig of his bourbon. “You survived, didn't you?”

There was a pause. “Unfortunately.”

The young man stared at his elder for a moment. Then he took one last drink and stood up from the bar and put on his hat. “Thanks for the talk. I hope to see you again someday. I'm sure I'll have some stories to share with you next time.” And with that he tossed some money on the bar and walked out the door into the late night storm.

“God help you, kid. God help you.”

​

The year is 1872. The setting is Blood Moon Gulch, a town nestled in a valley somewhere in east Wyoming. This town has been the site of many strange occurrences over the years and is slowly building a quiet reputation of unsettling curiosity. While some of its inhabitants have chosen to leave for greener pastures (sometimes unsuccessfully), others have traveled from all over to see whether or not there is any truth to the stories they've heard. Stories of men who transform into beasts, of women who feast on blood, of the dead rising from their graves.

You are one such individual who happens to be in Blood Moon Gulch at this particular time, by choice or by circumstance. The type of character you play in this weird Western is up to you. Will you be a gunslinger on the hunt for a prized bounty? A bartender writing a book of the various stories you've heard from your drunken patrons? A preacher desperately trying to spread the holy truth in a land that contradicts you at every turn? A harlot who's fallen in love with him? A peculiar inventor on the verge of a scientific breakthrough? The only limit is your imagination, and I look forward to crafting a wicked tale around your characters' individual paths.

---

Character sheet: (This is a basic template and can be expanded with additional information if you wish. Please send your completed sheet to me for approval before posting in the thread. You may play up to two characters at a time.)

Name:
Gender:
Age:
Appearance:
Profession:
Biography:
Goals: (This section is for the GM's eyes only. What brings your character to Blood Moon Gulch, and what would you like to see happen across the arc of the story? Does your character have a condition, or curse, they prefer to keep hidden? Are they looking for a certain someone? This is where you tell me what you would like to see happen, and we'll work together to make it so.)

​

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred
Their shirts all soaked with sweat
He's ridin' hard to catch that herd
But he ain't caught em yet​

 

Name: Jack Logan
Gender: Male
Age: 37
Appearance:

Profession: Gunslinger, Witch hunter
Biography:
17 years ago...

I was a young un' like you... reckless and full o' charm. Went to make my fortune down in Bloodmoon gulch, see? Down there I went, 17 years ago...

Thing is, Son, it ain't safe down there. Town is hell on earth. I seen things I ain't never want to see.

You wonder why I go down there, kid? 'Cause I'm gonna send those unholy things back to the place they belong. Them unholy beings that cut me up 17 years ago ain't never gonna stay in that town for much longer...

 

Name: Lizzy Brewer
Gender: Female
Age: 33
Appearance: medium height, olive tone skin, brown eyes, brown hair
Profession: farmer, laundress, widow

(I can't find a picture I like for her)

Biography: Lizzy was born in Blood Moon Gulch, and lived there until she was thirteen, when her family were forced to move to Oklahoma, settling near Fort Cobb. While there, she met a US cavalry soldier, Corporal James Brewer and married him when she was 17. She followed him from post to post, working as a laundress to earn something to supplement his army pay. When he went east to fight in the Civil War, she followed him, continuing to work as a laundress and nurse. He was wounded in the Valley campaign of 1864, and sent to Fort Leavenworth in Kansas, assigned to administrative duties. In 1868, the family returned to Fort Cobb. Lizzy had 5 children over the course of her marriage, two boys and three girls. In the winter of 1871, measles swept through the town. Sergeant Brewer and three of his children died.

Lizzy left her surviving two children with her mother, and is looking to buy a farm with what remains of her husband’s pension money. She plans to send for her mother and children when she is established.

 

Just a fuller introduction to Lizzy...

Prologue
Lizzy Brewer
Land agent’s office in the county seat

“Is this the river?”

“Uh, no, ma’am, that’s the road. See? It leads in here to the town. This here’s the river.”

Lizzy Brewer peered at the map, trying to interpret the strange wiggly lines and marks. Her late husband, Sergeant James Brewer, had tried to teach her how to read maps, but she couldn’t match the strange marks to actual places. A rivulet of sweat rolled between her shoulder blades as she looked at the curving line which denoted the river. It led up into an empty spot on the map.

“What is this up here?” she asked.

The land agent squirmed in her seat. “Er, well, you see, ma’am, the surveyors never managed to finish up their work. I reckon they were…interrupted.”

Lizzy nodded solemnly. She had a pretty good idea what had interrupted them, but it wouldn’t do to let on that she knew. “Probably the war,” she said.

The man swiped a kerchief across his forehead. “Yes, ma’am, that’s probably it.”

Lizzy traced the line of the river, the uneven circles that must symbolize hills. The path had led along a gully between two hills, moving away from the river towards the east, and then an ascending slope and a sharp bend. The cave must be there, near the blank area.

“Is there anything available in that area?” she asked.

“Oh, no ma’am!” The man stood up straight. “That’s US government property, ma’am, they ain’t released that for settlement yet.” Lizzy nodded, fighting down a wave of anger. It wasn’t their property, it had belonged to her family, her people first.

The man went on, pointing to blocks marked off on the map, with numbers written on them. “These are all available for claiming,” he said.

Lizzy eyed the notations on the blocks. “Most of them seem to have been claimed,” she said. The man shook his head.

“Naw, most of ‘em have been abandoned. No one seems to stick around long to prove up.” He looked at Lizzy suspiciously. “Can’t figger out why a nice lady like you would be interested in a place like this.”

Lizzy dropped her chin demurely. The black widow’s veil made her look paler than she was, a blessing. “I heard land was cheap here,” she said. “All I’ve got is the pension from the Army after my husband… after…”

“Of course, ma’am, of course, I’m sorry, don’t want to upset you.” He went and got a heavy ledger down off the shelf, and opened it up, comparing the entries to the map.

Lizzy looked at the blocks. All right. “Is this one free?” she asked. The river ran across the eastern part, and it was close to the spot where she’d grown up. It was also not too far from the cave.

The man checked. “Yes, ma’am! The folks that lived there abandoned it…I mean, they...left sudden.” He laughed uneasily. “So, uh, this is the one you want?”

“Yes, please, sir,” said Lizzy. “With the water and mineral rights.”

Half an hour later, she walked out of the office into the sunlight, her heart pounding beneath the black wool dress. She pulled the heavy black veil down over her face. She’d done it! She had the farm! She’d overpaid, of course…she knew some of the money would remain in the pocket of the land agent. He’d cheated her, and she’d expected nothing less. But it was fine. She had the farm, and there was a house, a barn and a corral, and a well. After all these years, she was going home. And once she got there, she could begin to fix what had gone wrong and restore balance.

Beneath the heavy veil, the Widow Brewer smiled.

 

Old Jack Logan - Prologue
Calico's Saloon, Texas

"What's your poison, friend?" yelled the bartender over the ruckus of the saloon. Two men had just gotten into a small brawl in the corner of the saloon, glass was heard shattering. One of them whimpered.

"Bourbon." spoke the figure. He was a weathered fellow, with the face that has seen many a brawl, gunfight, and mauling. The bartender nodded and grabbed a bottle from under the counter before sloshing it into a shot glass and sliding it to his customer. Jack Logan threw down some money on the counter, and the bartender took it with a nod.

"What brings you to town, friend? Can't say I've seen your face before..." said the bartender, striking up a conversation as he cleaned some glasses.

"Business." muttered Jack as he threw back the bourbon and slid it forward for another. The bartender nodded as he refilled his glass.

"What kind of business?" he questioned as he set the bottle down. The man's face had gotten the bartender's curiosity. Jack's face did that. It practically told a story in and of itself.

"Lookin' for money. Might head down to..." Jack looked around for a bit, before lowering his voice.

"Might head down to Blood Moon Gulch." he whispered to the bartender who immediately raised his brow.

"Say now, your going down to Blood Moon Gulch? Ain't that a coincidence..."

"Coincidence? What you mean by that?"

"Well, I had a group of lawkeepers come by earlier. Gave me this, said he was most likely found down in Blood Moon Gulch." The bartender reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wanted poster and handed it to Jack. He took it and a few gunshots rang outside. Probably two cocky gunslingers seeing who's better.

"Well now..." said Jack, looking at the wanted poster.

"Say he's been stealing stuff from the dead. Strange stuff by the looks of it too. Want to watch yourself if you think of lookin' for him." informed the bartender. Jack threw back his bourbon and set the glass down on the counter.

"I think I will go get this one. Reward ain't bad too..." muttered Jack.

"Damn right about that! 5,000 dollars*! I could buy me some nice stuff with that kinda cash..."

"And you said this is down in Blood Moon Gulch?"

"That it is... You gotta be gutsy to go down there."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I've been before." Jack said. He may finally have a lead to finding his target that he had been searching for for years.



*Equivalent to about 110,000 dollars in current U.S currency.

 

Approved 2nd Character!

Name: Billy Ware
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Appearance:

Profession: Pianist of The Silver Bullet Saloon.
Biography: Billy Ware, born William Ware, came to Texas after his parents were killed by a group of outlaws when he was 15. He arrived in Blood Moon Gulch were he found a job. He now plays regularly at the Silver Bullet.

 

Wyoming Territory
August 29th, 1872​

Just outside Blood Moon Gulch

The farm had been abandoned for some time now by the looks of things. It was still in relatively good condition to the naked eye, but there were no people around the house, no animals in sight in the corral or the barn. That is, save for John Grieveson and a couple of his buddies, who were currently sitting on the front porch of the house passing around a half empty bottle of whiskey.

"I heard about people who violate 'em, too," one of the men said, shooing a fly away from the rough stubble on his face.

"Violate?" the other one said, this one younger and barely old enough to grow a thin, scraggly mustache.

"Yeah, violate. You know." He made a crude gesture with his hands repeatedly and laughed. "Violate!"

"The hell," the younger one groaned and took a swig from the bottle, passing it to John. "The hell'd anyone wanna do it with a dead body for."

"Prolly 'cause they cain't get 'em a live body." He laughed again. "Johnny, you ain't never..."

John made like he was about to throw the bottle at the man, who flinched. "Hell no," he said, leaning against the post by the steps. "Think I'm crazy?" He took a drink from the bottle and looked up at the sky. The sun was high now without cloud to be seen, and John wiped away sweat from his forehead with the back of the hand that still held the whiskey. He passed it over to the older man.

In the distance, down the dirt path leading from the house to the road that led into town, John noticed a figure approaching. His eyesight wasn't the sharpest, but judging by the size of the person, it was a woman, and she had a few animals with her. He didn't know it then, but the woman upon whom his attention was now focused was Lizzy Brewer, the widow who'd just purchased the farm on which he and his friends were now trespassing.

"Look," John nodded in her direction, and his companions followed his gaze.

"Hell," the younger one said. The older one put his hand down by his hip where a hidden gun rested in its holster beneath his duster.

John stood up and stepped off the porch, his hand staying on the post as he leaned against it, watching the woman approach. "Go away, lady," he muttered under his breath. "If you know what's good for you."

At about that time, further off in the distance, another convergence was transpiring. Two riders approached the fork in the road that led to Blood Moon Gulch and the path to the abandoned farm. One of them, coming from the northwest path, was Jack Logan. The other, coming from the southwest path, was Dusty White. They were in sight of each other and both approached the same crossroad, and if they looked, they could also see a woman and her animals approaching a farmhouse where a few men who looked up to no good were waiting with bated breath.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @Mistress_Renata, @HanSolo29

---

The Silver Bullet Saloon

It was the afternoon by the time Sadie had left her room on the second floor of the Silver Bullet and headed down the stairs to greet prospective customers. The crowd hadn't reached the capacity that it did during the evenings and well on into the late nights and early mornings, but it still had a decent turnout considering the hour. She saw a few men playing poker at the gambling tables and caught the bartender's eye before he looked away and served a drink to a man who looked to be down on his luck. She saw other men look her way as well, some with less willpower than the bartender and unable to look away, as usually happened whenever she entered a room.

Sadie, widely considered the most beautiful woman in Blood Moon Gulch, and the Silver Bullet Saloon's prized attraction, wore her long blonde hair up in a neat bun with a few loose strands hanging down on each side of her face, the makeup around her eyes causing her disarming green irises to pop against her fair skin. She wore a seductive dark green dress with ivory lace accenting the chest and lower arms, and her lipstick was a striking red that every man in the saloon wanted to taste.

But it was early yet. Sadie usually made herself at home on the landing of the staircase between the first and second floors, leaning on the railing and watching the crowd as they desperately tried to distract themselves with other, more respectable matters. But today she heard the unmistakable sound of Billy Ware playing the piano, and so she made her way down to the first floor. She didn't know how he did it, but Sadie could always tell without looking when it was Billy playing that piano. He had a way of making his sound stand out from the saloon's other players, and the music was soothing to her ears.

The piano was shaded in the back corner of the saloon and hardly anyone but Sadie noticed Billy playing there. To the rest it was just background music, and the pianist's back was to the crowd. Sadie approached the left side of the piano, put her hands palms down on the top of the instrument's back side, and rested her chin on them, as she was the perfect height for it.

She'd known Billy for just under a year, meeting him shortly after Hudson hired him as a regular musician for the saloon. The owner had a rule against employees of his saloon having relations with one another, so Billy had never asked to engage in Sadie's services, though she didn't know if he'd even desire to or not were such restrictions not in place. But she enjoyed his company, and she smiled at him when he noticed her.

"Play me that tune I like, Billy Ware," she told him with a wink, and even her sultry voice was a thing to behold.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

IC: Lizzy Brewer
Headed up to her new home…

She followed the road to the river, where it branched off to follow along beside a creek, which fed in to the waterway. A shallow ford, and then up ahead, amid a few trees, she saw the house and the barn. Closer to the main road than she had expected, but it was fine.

First the barn, larger than she’d expected, made of weathered boards. Then a large corral, and a wide yard. The grass was browning, but rain would help. The house was larger than she’d thought, too, with a broad front porch and a stone chimney. There was no glass in the windows, which was no surprise. Glass cost a lot of money. There were sturdy wooden shutters, though. It was a welcome sight, for she’d been in the saddle for days.

What was not welcome were the men on the porch. A young man, just out of childhood, really, big hands and feet that he still hadn’t grown into, with protruding ears and shaggy, red-gold hair. An older man, maybe her age, dark hair under a sweat-stained hat, ragged dirty clothes and a ragged, dirty beard. The man at the center would have been good-looking, if it wasn’t for the hardness in his eyes and the cruel twist of his mouth. They were passing around a bottle of whiskey –she winced inwardly, men and whiskey was never a good combination—and laughing raucously at some joke.

Beside her, Dog growled and she shushed him. He was tired, too, for it had been a long walk for him. But he could see that these men were trouble. She rode a little closer, then pulled up, wondering what to do. She had her late husband’s Army revolver handy. But these men were armed, too. She also had Sergeant Jimmy’s old Henry rifle, stashed in a holster on the saddle, something which had never quite made it back to the armory when he was reassigned to Kansas territory. Not as easy to get to, but she hadn’t planned to need it for defense.

A motion on the roof caught her eye, and she looked up to see a large, black crow with glowing red eyes perched on the chimney, watching the scene with interest. Ah, it’s you, is it? It didn’t bode well.

She dismounted from Not Horse, leaving the rein on his neck. He sighed heavily. Sleepy Feet edged closer to him, sensing the tension.

Lizzy took a few steps forward. “Gentlemen,” she said. “This is my house. This is my land. I see you have had to take refuge here. But now the weather is fine and the sun is high. I must ask you to leave now, in peace. I have work to do.”

The black bird on the roof croaked loudly, as if laughing. Behind her, in the saddlebag, she heard a low growl. Lazy Cat had heard the bird, and now he was awake.

Lizzy tried to keep her face calm, but inside her heart was pounding. If they did not go of their own accord, she had no idea how to force them to leave.

TAG: ANYONE

 

Jack Logan
Just outside Blood Moon Gulch

The withering cigar dangled from his mouth and his weary steed trotted along the beaten road. He had ridden all the way here in Wyoming from Texas. He was tired. His head drooped slightly as he progressed further down the road. A revolver dangled from his hip and a near-empty bottle of Bourbon whiskey sat firmly in his hand.

Jack briefly flicked his head up to look around. He was mildly surprised when he saw another figure trotting down the road. In the distance he also spotted a barn, and some lady making her way down there. At the farm were also a few men who looked like they were trouble. Jack squinted at the small gathering of outlaws. It was possible that his target was there. Nevertheless, he would check out what was going on.

He whistled and kicked his horse to speed up. He would probably bump into the other figure who was heading to the same crossroad as him. He might as well make small talk as he made his way down to the farm.

Tags: @Mistress_Renata , @HanSolo29 , @Reynar_Tedros

Billy Ware
Silver Bullet Saloon

He had been playing through the night and into the early hours of the morning. He didn't get much sleep, that was alright though. It didn't bother him too much. He enjoyed playing the piano, not many people noticed him doing it and it kept those who could cause trouble away from him. He let his hands fly across the keys, melding the notes into a nice ambiance for the saloon. He saw someone's hands rest against the piano and a face.

Billy knew this person only vaguely. Her name was Sadie, Billy thought, and she was what everyone called "the prettiest girl in the Gulch."

Billy smirked and continued to go about improvising his tune before she made her request.

He wasn't exactly sure which tune was her favorite. He didn't like to think too much on his co-workers and the regulars at the saloon, he just played there. He nodded and started to play one of his more regular songs, hoping that it was the one she wanted. He didn't just play the piano, he let the piano take control. Some think that's why he is such a good pianist.

Tags: @Reynar_Tedros

 

Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

As he looked past the woman approaching the farm, the bearded man seated on the porch took notice of the two riders on the road in the distance.

“I don’t like this crowd we seem to be getting,” he told the boy sitting near him. “Why did you put us so close to the road?”

“It wasn’t this close last night,” the boy responded, seeming to be deep in thought as he watched the road with narrowed eyes.

“It wasn’t this close last night?”

“No. I swear it.”

“Oh, okay. So I guess the house just up and moved itself closer to the road then. With us inside.”

“I saw what I saw, and I’m telling you the road is closer.”

They didn’t have time to argue any further, as the woman got off her horse and spoke to the two and a half men that watched her.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “This is my house. This is my land. I see you have had to take refuge here. But now the weather is fine and the sun is high. I must ask you to leave now, in peace. I have work to do.”

John Grieveson let his hand fall from the post and stepped off the porch, stumbling slightly from the whiskey, while behind him the bearded man’s hand remained resting by his side, near the concealed pistol tucked in its holster.

“Oh I’m afraid there must be some mistake, ma’am,” John spoke in a genial voice that hardly represented the true nature of the character it disguised. “This here’s my uncle’s property, and me and my two cousins here,” he motioned behind him with his hand without removing his eyes from the woman, “are watchin’ over it while he’s out on a hunt up north with his pa. Matter fact they should be back fairly soon, and Grandpappy can be a mite ornery when there’s folks trespassin’ on his property, so I suggest you git along now ‘fore they return.” He wondered if she was with either of the two men in the distance, but figured otherwise since she hadn’t given a hint that she was aware of their presence behind her. Best keep it that way lest she call out for help in the event things here went sideways.

Tag: @Mistress_Renata, @Master Vo'Un'Var, @HanSolo29

---

The Silver Bullet Saloon

Sadie closed her eyes and smiled as Billy played the song that she instantly recognized, tapping her fingers lightly on her cheek to the beat of the melody. She didn’t have many pleasant memories from her childhood, but somehow that tune managed to weed through the grime and the pain of her past and pluck only the good parts out for her to savor in her mind.

She opened her eyes to look at the pianist and started to speak. “So where did you-“ But before she finished her sentence, she caught sight of a man approaching her from the gambling tables, and she swore under her breath.

“Sadie,” came a gruff, intoxicated voice from behind Billy. A large man of above average height and even more above average girth strode up next to Sadie, ignoring the musician seated at the piano.

“Byron,” Sadie’s voice, which had been friendly and inviting to Billy, was now dull and monotonous, as if this Byron was the last person she wanted to speak to.

“How you been, darlin’?” Byron held his hat in his hands and was fidgeting with it as he leered at the woman.

“Fine.”

“Good. That’s good, that’s real good.”

“What do you want, Byron?”

“Come on, Sadie. You know what I want.”

“You done had yours, Byron. You know my rule, now get on.”

“To hell with your rule, Sadie, I done told you I’d pay whatever you want. I won’t tell nobody.”

Sadie looked the man squarely in the eyes. “I said no.”

“Damn you, woman.” Byron grabbed Sadie’s bare arm and held it in a hard grip with his burly hand. “I done asked you nicely for the last time.”

Sadie winced in pain. “Let me go.” She tried to pry herself out of the man’s grip, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Not until you give me what I want.”

“I said let me go, Byron.” Sadie glanced over at Billy with a hint of desperation in her eye. She was clearly in pain and unable to rid herself of the foul man that restrained her.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

Billy Ware
The Silver Bullet Saloon

The smooth piano kept on playing, but Billy's eyes were suddenly directly locked on Byron.

"I don't think you wanna keep holdin' onto this lady here." spat Billy, glaring at the drunk.

"Things might end up a little... painful for ya if you don't stop."

A sickening grin spread across Billy's face.

"I'll give you three seconds. One. Two..."

His face had gone from his young boyish kindness to a mask of pure hate. He was good at that, it broke quite a few people. No one liked it when Billy Ware was angry.

@Reynar_Tedros

 

IC:
Lizzy Brewer
Outside her new home

Lizzy was forcing herself to remain calm as she waited anxiously for the men to leave. They seemed settled in, and she didn’t see their horses. There was a soft thump beside her as Lazy Cat dropped from the saddle and dashed off behind the house, an ebony streak against the dry glass. The boy glanced at him, moving his hand towards his holster, but thinking better of it.

The good-looking man in the center managed a smile, but the warmth of his reply belied the cold darkness in his eyes. A motion on the roof drew her attention. The black bird spread its wings, and dropped from the chimney to the porch roof, watching the interaction with interest.

“Oh I’m afraid there must be some mistake, ma’am,” said the man. “This here’s my uncle’s property, and me and my two cousins here,” he motioned behind him with his hand without removing his eyes from the woman, “are watchin’ over it while he’s out on a hunt up north with his pa. Matter fact they should be back fairly soon, and Grandpappy can be a mite ornery when there’s folks trespassin’ on his property, so I suggest you git along now ‘fore they return.”

They are lying. She didn’t dare to accuse them of that to their faces. “No,” she said. “This is my property. I have registered the deed in the county offices, and I have paid for it. Perhaps your uncle is mistaken,” she added drily. “I think he might be living in another cabin that looks like this one.”

There was movement on the roof. Lizzy glanced up. Lazy Cat was creeping over the ridgeline, belly low to the thatch, his great golden eyes fixed on the dark bird. Be careful, Cat! You don’t know what you are tangling with.

Behind her, she heard hoofbeats. Two men on horseback at the fork of the road. Were those men with these? A sudden rush of movement, and the red-eyed crow flew away, shrieking in anger. Lazy Cat spat out a mouthful of black feathers and watched him go, with narrowed eyes.

“I can go into town and have this sorted out,” she said. “When I return, though, you will see I am right. Your…’uncle’ must live nearby.” She moved towards the mule, ready to remount. Lazy Cat took a flying leap off the porch roof, landing on the head of the boy, then dropping to the ground. He trotted up to Sleepy Feet, the pack mule, gathered himself, and leaped to the top of the pack, perching there like some type of king on a throne. She turned the head of Not Horse back towards the road, but the other men were getting closer.

TAG: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @HanSolo29, @Reynar_Tedros

 

Jack Logan
Just outside Blood Moon Gulch

His cigar slowly put itself out as he came upon the barn. He grinned slightly and chuckled as he saw who was there.

"Well, well, well! Hope I didn't make it too late to the party boys!"

His horse sped up slightly to get closer to the group, and then stopped as he began to get off, resting his hand on his revolver.

"Say, I need myself a drink, and my bourbon seems to be empty! Mind sharin', friends?"

Jack grinned as he watched Johnny Greiveson. Found the target a lot quicker than he expected.

Tags: @Mistress_Renata @Reynar_Tedros @HanSolo29

 

IC: Lizzy Brewer
On the road by her house

Lizzy slowly began to ride away from the house, looking back at the three menacing men, and the new one who had joined them. She rode to the bank of the river to water her animals (the mules were pulling and impatient at the sound of the sweet water), and looked back. The new man had not joined the others on the porch. He was simply confronting them.

Another man was approaching, riding from the fork in the road. He was an elder, his beard was ragged and he seemed tattered and unkempt. He rode slowly, looking ahead to the house.

As he drew closer to Lizzy, she cleared her throat. “Are you with those men?” she asked.

TAG: @HanSolo29

 

IC: Lizzy Brewer
On the road

Lizzy looked at the elder man and looked to the house. "You have not disturbed me," she said. "I am Lizzy Brewer. This is my property and that is my house. Those men there, they are there without my permission. They say it is their house. But they are lying." She sighed. "I'm headed into town to find the sheriff, so that he can make them leave. I have weapons, but there are too many of them." She looked at the man. "Be careful of them. They are not good men. They have bad hearts." She pulled on the reins of Not Horse, and gathered up the lead rope on Sleepy Feet, turning their heads towards the main road.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @Reynar_Tedros, @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

Just when John thought he and his cousins were in the clear, one of the distant riders approached as the woman begrudgingly departed. This one looked like a man not so easily discarded.

"Well, well, well! Hope I didn't make it too late to the party boys!"

John could smell the greed and violence on this man even from afar, a kindred spirit. He stood still by the porch and watched him dismount his horse with his hand resting on his revolver. There was no badge pinned on his shirt. A bounty hunter, surely.

"Say, I need myself a drink, and my bourbon seems to be empty! Mind sharin', friends?"

The bearded man seated on the porch next to the kid stood up, a little slowly on account of his burly frame, with the bottle of whiskey in his hand. He looked across the way at the man called Jack Logan and put the bottle to his mouth, tipping the bottom upwards and letting it pour into his gullet with great, loud swallows, never taking his eyes off the bounty hunter. When the bottle was empty, he took it off his lips, wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve, and tossed the empty container down off the porch and into the dirt below, where it landed with a hollow sound. Then he belched.

“Sorry, friend,” he spoke in a deep monotone as the kid sweated nervously behind him. “Looks like you’ll have to go somewhere else to quench your thirst.”

The kid could taste the tension in the dry air, and wondered if the man and woman conversing in the distance could as well. If he could speak to them, he would tell them to run away, to get on their horses and ride for quieter pastures. If his instincts told him anything, it was that this land would not be quiet for much longer. Violence and death had followed him most of his young life through no fault of his own, and once again it looked as if it’d caught up. He could only sit and watch the events as they unfolded, helpless to influence the stubborn wills of his elder relatives, ready to escape at a moment’s notice. He waited, doubting the woman’s farm would be occupied for much longer.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @HanSolo29, @Mistress_Renata

---

The Silver Bullet Saloon

Byron hadn’t noticed the pianist, his attention focused solely on that of the subject of his desires, Sadie. But the man seated had spoken, and Byron turned with a look of surprise, not from the fact that someone had been watching, but that they had decided to intervene.

"I don't think you wanna keep holdin' onto this lady here. Things might end up a little... painful for ya if you don't stop."

The grin that came over the man’s face sent a chill through Byron’s body, and his grip on Sadie’s arm loosened. But she was too frightened to even notice.

"I'll give you three seconds. One. Two..."

To a typical man under no influence of alcohol, this threat would’ve likely caused him to surrender his position and return to his previous activities. But Byron was neither typical nor sober, and his look of surprise had turned into a look of rage. Letting go of Sadie’s arm, he swung a punch in the intruder’s direction. Byron, being a large, slow man, didn’t have the quickest movements, and this particular swing would be easily avoidable for Billy Ware. A few patrons had taken notice of this exchange, and waited with nervous excitement as to what would come of it.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

Lizzy Brewer
Blood Moon Gulch, Main Street, past mid-day

Lizzy was in a foul mood and forcing herself to hide it. The sun was high into the sky, and it would be nearly evening by the time this all got resolved. She’d wanted to get her gear unpacked and the mules turned out for a rest so that she could get down to business early the next morning. She had to see if the Angry One was still safe in his home, but now, because of those evil-hearted men, she would lose a whole day.

She found the Sheriff’s office and tied up the weary mules. “Stay,” she ordered Dog. He was happy to flop down in the dust, finding a patch of shade cast by Sleepy Feet. Lazy Cat stood up and stretched. He surveyed the small town without enthusiasm, then dropped to the street, intent on business of his own.

“Don’t go far,” Lizzy said, “or I will leave without you.” Only the flicker of one ear indicated that he’d heard her.

With a packet of documents in her hand she walked in to the small building. A man was slouched in a chair behind a desk, snoring loudly. Lizzy was dismayed to see a battered silver star on his chest. Could this man be the sheriff? She could smell the alcohol from here.

She could hear voices from a door in the back, a woman and a man. “…need to get this shirt off him…naw, I’ll just cut it off…bleeding like a hog in a slaughterhouse…yeah, pass me that bandage there…”

Lizzy cleared her throat. “Sheriff? Sheriff?” She leaned forward, lightly tapping his hand while staying well back. When her husband Jimmy had come home in this situation, it could be dangerous to try to wake him. He’d jump to his feet, screaming and flailing at an unseen enemy, thinking he was back in the war. “Sheriff! I need your help! There are men trying to steal my house!”

It was no good. He was deep into the bottle. A sound at the back of the room… Lizzy looked up. A woman stood in the doorway. Wiry and fit, with eyes like a cougar. She was a few years younger than Lizzy and had a gun strapped to her hip. What fascinated Lizzy, though, was her skirt. It was separated into separate legs, like trousers, only wide-legged so it looked like a skirt. And it was short, coming halfway up the shin. Practical, for riding and moving. Lizzy coveted it, and had to resist the urge to find out where the other woman had gotten it.

“Is this the Sheriff?” she said. “I need his help. I have laid a claim on a farm, but there are men there. They said it belongs to them, but I have papers proving my claim. I need the Sheriff’s help to run them off.”

TAG: @Reynar_Tedros

 

Sheriff’s Office
Blood Moon Gulch

Back in one of the few unoccupied jail cells of the sheriff’s office, Jodie Felton heard a woman’s voice calling to the sheriff out in the main room and swore under her breath as she watched the doctor stitch up the wounded man before her.

“Perfect timin’,” she adjusted the hat on her head after wiping blood on her already stained shirt, kneeling on one knee and looking around at their makeshift operating room behind the iron cage of the cell. “You good in here, Doc?”

“Well I’ve had better accommodations, I’ll admit,” the old man called C.D. Hall said, blinking sweat out of his eyes. “As for this one,” he nodded at the man bleeding on the cot, “he’ll be fine. You go on.”

“Holler if you need anything.” Jodie stood up and turned for the doorway, and as she was leaving, said, “Reckon it won’t be long ‘fore you have Earl in your office begging you to get my boot out of his ass.”

After chuckling at Jodie’s foul mouthed departure, the doctor looked from the wound he was dressing to the face of the man on the cot slipping in and out of consciousness. “I told that woman you’d be fine, and I don’t need you to go makin’ a liar outta me, hear?” He continued to stitch, looping the string in and out of the wound as the open skin slowly inched shut. “She’ll have one boot to spare after she’s done with the sheriff and I don’t need my name to be on it.”

Out in front, Jodie looked from the newcomer to Earl fast asleep on his desk with his face tucked in his arms, snoring the afternoon away with an empty flask on the ground beside him.

“Is this the Sheriff?” the woman inquired. Jodie thought she looked like she had Indian blood in her. “I need his help. I have laid a claim on a farm, but there are men there. They said it belongs to them, but I have papers proving my claim. I need the Sheriff’s help to run them off.”

Jodie shook her head. “Won’t get help from this one any time soon.” She kicked the sheriff’s leg with the toe of her boot and his response was to remain as still as a corpse. “Real piece of work. Gimme a second.” Jodie walked to her desk across the room and reached down and grabbed a small bucket of lukewarm water. She purposefully strode back towards Earl with the bucket in one hand, and with her other hand took off the sheriff’s hat and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his sleeping face up. “Nap time’s over, Earl.” And she turned over the bucket, splashing water into the gruff man’s face. He awoke with a jolt, eyes wide as he choked and gasped for air, reeling backward and falling out of his chair and onto the hardwood floor below.

“There he is!” Jodie watched with a pleased grin on her face, hands on her hips as Earl coughed out water on his hands and knees. “Feel better now, Sheriff?”

“The hell was that for?” Earl spat, not looking up as he continued to cough and catch his breath.

Jodie knelt down in front of him and pulled his chin up so that he looked into her determined eyes. “I’m leavin’. Ya hear me?” She talked as if she was speaking to a dumb child who was hard of hearing. “Now listen to me. Doc is in back tending to a patient. Okay? He might need your help, so I need you to listen for him. Better yet go back there and help him yours-“

“We’re fine, thank you!” came the doctor’s voice from the back.

“Once you get yourself together, you make yourself useful for a change, all right? See if Doc needs anything, and don’t go wanderin’ around town until he’s finished in case he needs you.”

“Won’t need him!” Doc hollered.

Earl slowly got to his feet and stumbled over to his desk, resting his hand on it to steady himself. He was a man in his forties who looked as if a hundred years of strife had slammed him halfway into the grave, with unkempt black hair that was showing signs of greying and a weary face that needed shaving days ago. He looked at the olive complected woman who stood there before them, watching the embarrassing scene unfold. “Who’re you?”

“She’s with me,” Jodie said. “And we’re leavin’.” She walked behind the sheriff and grabbed one of the rifles off the rack on the wall to go along with the pistol holstered on the gunbelt she wore strapped around her waist.

“Leavin’ where?”

“Check on her farm. Troublemakers took up residence claimin’ it’s theirs.”

Earl scratched his head. “Think it might be the Grievesons?”

“Reckon there’s a chance.”

“Won’t you need my help?”

“Nope. You stay here. And don’t go back to sleep, dammit.” Jodie turned and looked at the Indian woman and pursed her lips into a polite smile. “Lead the way, ma’am. My horse is tied up outside.”

Tag: @Mistress_Renata

 

Jack Logan
Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

Jack frowned. He was being slightly sarcastic, and this annoyed him.

"Right then. I see I'm not welcome."

He sighed and, very suddenly, pulled out his revolver and sent three shots in the direction of all of the men. He then looked around for cover and ducked to the nearest spot he found. Quickly looking over and sending a couple more bullets.

@HanSolo29 @Reynar_Tedros
Billy Ware
Silver Bullet Saloon

He was fast. Unusually, some might say. Byron's heavy fist found no target, and went far from Billy's head. Billy immediately reacted. Slamming a fist into Byron's stomach, and then following up by sending his right hand directly into Byron's chin.

For a saloon pianist, his moves were a sight to behold. He was incredibly fast. He launched another series of attacks. Sending fists at his nose, mouth, and jabbing at his eyes. He launched himself backwards and called out to him.

"Say friend, I did warn ya."

@Reynar_Tedros

 

IC: Lizzy Brewer
Sheriff's Office

"Thank you for your help. I'm Lizzy Brewer," she said, heading for the door. She did wonder why the Sheriff wasn't coming, and what the woman's role was, but she wasn't going to complain about getting help. "My husband died last year and--" Lizzy stopped just inside the door, staring at the wall of posters tacked up there. "Him. That's him! The man trying to steal my house! There are two others with him, but he did all the talking."



TAG: @Reynar_Tedros

 

Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

The three shots fired from Jack Logan’s gun rang out across the plains as the bounty hunter quickly ducked behind an abandoned wagon toppled over on its side there in front of the farmhouse. One bullet hit the sweaty, bearded man directly between his eyes, and he fell over with a lifeless thud that rattled the rickety porch. The second whizzed by the kid’s head so close he could see the scuff marks on the bullet, and he hurried on his hands and knees through the front door and into the house. The third clipped John Grieveson’s ear, and he grabbed at it as he reached down for his own pistol that he’d dropped, blood oozing through his fingers and down his arm.

“Son of a bitch!” he cried as he picked up the gun, pulling his hand away from his ear and looking at the blood that soaked it. He turned and fired several rounds in the direction of his attacker, all four of the bullets lodging into the wagon which Jack ducked behind. “You don’t know what kinda hell you just got yourself into, old man!” John ran to take cover around the side of the house and hastily began to reload his pistol as he muttered, “Don’t know what kinda hell he got himself into.”

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var

---

The Silver Bullet Saloon

Byron fell down on the hardwood floor in a heap after Billy’s fists slammed into his face, one after the other in a barrage of punches that he had no hope of avoiding. Blood dripped from his fractured nose and broken teeth, and he moaned in agony as he writhed on the ground like a wounded animal, futilely searching for something to hold on to and recover his footing. If they’d had the curiosity of nearby patrons of the bar before, now they had the attention of the entire establishment. Including the owner, Hudson Atwood, who’d just walked through the swinging front doors and stood there against the sunlight like the looming shadow of death itself.

He spoke to no one, instead mumbling to himself behind his thick beard nothing anyone could hear as he stormed over to the source of all the commotion. He was large, with a heft endowed to a man who dedicated his life to the hunt, and consuming that which he had killed in that unforgiving wild beyond civilization. It came from strength, unlike Byron’s size which came mostly from laziness and alcohol, and his steps were loud, commanding among the silence.

He reached down and yanked Byron up off the floor like some discarded piece of trash. “Dammit Byron, how many times,” Hudson said. “Get out. And don’t come back until those teeth grow back, or else I’ll make your head my next mount.” And he shoved the bloody man towards the front of the bar, where he stumbled out and spat blood onto the dirt path that led elsewhere.

Hudson turned to Billy and Sadie, who looked simultaneously relieved and nervous as she glanced over to Billy and back at Hudson. “You two,” he said quietly, pointing up the stairs. “My office.” Then he turned back around to the rest of the bar that was watching his every move, and grinned widely with his mouth and his eyes. “As for the rest of you!” he cried jovially, “Half price drinks for the next hour!”

As Sadie made her way up the stairs among the hoots and hollers of men hearing news of discounted booze, expecting Billy to follow, Hudson made his way through the Silver Bullet, shaking hands and greeting the regulars as if they were old friends. He’d make Billy and Sadie wait a while as he returned his saloon to its previous state of blissful merriment.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var

---

Sheriff’s Office

"Him. That's him! The man trying to steal my house! There are two others with him, but he did all the talking."

Jodie looked at the wanted poster that had caught Lizzy’s attention, then back at Earl. “Guess that settles it.”

“If there’s three of ‘em, Jodie, I should come along,” Earl said.

“No sense in you gettin’ in the way. Better you stay here with Doc than gettin’ yourself shot by one of the Grieveson boys. I’ll take care of it.”

“Jodie-“

“Look, if it makes you feel any better, send the mute along when he gets back. But three o’ them ugly bastards ain’t nothin’ to worry yourself over. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, Jodie followed Lizzy out of the sheriff’s office and shut the door behind her. Her horse stood there by the front steps tied to a post, and she untied it and climbed up on the saddle in one smooth motion, giving the brown haired stallion a small pat on the side of its head as she took the reigns in her hands and steered it to face Lizzy.

“Those yours?” she asked, indicating with her head the two tied up mules and the dog laying next to them.

Tag: @Mistress_Renata

 

Jack Logan
Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

Jack quickly slid five bullets to fill the chamber of his revolver. He snapped it shut and slid over, so he could see Johnny. He emptied the chamber of his revolver at Johnny, running back towards his cover. Sweat dripped down his face, and he grinned as he fumbled with the gun.

"I simply asked for a drink, friend. I don't like being denied."

@Reynar_Tedros

Billy Ware
Silver Bullet Saloon

Billy sighed lightly as he made his way up the stairs, following Sadie. He knew that Hudson was gonna make them wait.

"Sorry about that. Brawls ain't always nice to see." Billy said, as they found their way upstairs.

"Didn't like the pained look on ya face though. Had to do something."

@Reynar_Tedros

 

Outside Blood Moon Gulch
Farmstead

Grieveson heard the shots rattle off from his attacker's weapon, and the ringing in his ear seemed louder than usual, the ringing lasting longer than he remembered the ringing lasting every time he heard a shot, which was more often than most men.

"I simply asked for a drink, friend. I don't like being denied," came the voice of the bounty hunter, but it seemed further away than it actually was, and it sounded muted, muffled. Grieveson opened his mouth to respond, but found himself unable to. Like his voice had no canal with which to travel from his lungs to his mouth. He looked down and saw his shirt coated in blood. He noticed one of his hands was a bloody mess and missing every finger but the thumb, so he reached up with his good one to feel his neck, where there was a hole that wasn't there before from which blood poured out like hot coffee on a nice Autumn morning.

He saw the gun lying on the ground in the distance with a finger or two still wrapped around the grip. The world started to swim before him, tumbling over itself every which way, and wide-eyed and dumbfounded John Grieveson stumbled away from the side of the house that had failed to protect him and out into the open, where Jack could see him fall to his knees and stare at the dusty bloodsoaked ground beneath him as he struggled to draw his final breaths as a living man upon this foul earth.

The kid, meanwhile, who'd been hiding in the house as the shootout was taking place, jetted out of the back door and hightailed it across the plain and towards the trees in the distance. He left his gun in the house.

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var, @HanSolo29

---

The Silver Bullet Saloon

Hudson Atwood's office was a small room with a wooden desk on one side and not much else aside from a large bearskin rug laid out across the floor and a stuffed mount of an elk's head over the door frame, its large antlers reaching nearly to the ceiling. It was attached to his bedroom, but the door leading there was closed. There were two chairs on the opposite side of the desk, but Sadie sat in neither of them, instead standing by the window of the office and looking out over the street.

"Sorry about that," Billy said. "Brawls ain't always nice to see. Didn't like the pained look on ya face though. Had to do something."

Sadie, no stranger to being defended in the presence of mean men, looked at Billy with a curious eye. "That look you gave him," she said, and paused for a moment. "I've seen just about every kind of look a man can give, but I ain't never seen one like that. I mean, it didn't seem... natural."

Tag: @Master Vo'Un'Var