Manifest Destiny -- GAME thread (Chapter One: The Man who Would Not Hang)

[ferretguy]

(to Bartender)Well my dear friend, keep serving good whiskey like this, and I'll do my best to keep all my types of fun from this placePierre smiles and holds his glass for another...

OOC: damn white man for addicting the native americans (or haflings for that matter) to that demon drink!

 

[dave_o]

SCENE- Camera CUTS to shot of whiskey glass, as BARTENDER fills it for PIERRE once more, while PIERRE gives his dialogue.

SCENE- Camera CUTS to frame containing NICHOLAS and some patrons, near the piano. After NICHOLAS finishes his dialogue, camera PANS to center on a patron in particular. He smiles, a cascade of blonde curls falling in his sun worn face as he produces a pack of cards.

PATRON: "Well, now, cards ain't never friendly around these parts, but iffin' you really wanna part with yer dollar so quick -- be my guest."

 

[Jarval]

Elias grunts after finishing his scan of the bar.

Nothing too bad, although there'd be more than enough lead and steel to go round if things got ugly. He empties his glass, and joins Pierre in a refill. Shrugging at the bartender's comment to Santiago, he joins into the conversation.

"How much do you know of the Bear man? His words seemed genuine, but then I am a poor judge of character." He scowls at his drink, the unwelcome memory of Captain de Vegaso troubling him.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

'

"I must pray on this. Thank you for your insight Compadre'"
Santiago sits at the bar and thinks to himself. Perhaps mi Amigo is correct? Perhaps the Bear was just getting out of town? With that thought Santiago walks out of the bar and sits on one of the chairs just outside. Feeling better for being out of the way. Sometimes his vows made his friends and other citizens nervous.

 

[ferretguy]

OOC: just a quick tale from the other side...I will be out of town till Sunday...can't wait to continue this story!

 

[Argent Silvermage]

The wooden planks that made up the porch of the saloon creaked under Santiago's stride. Finding a chair near the door he sat down and watched the sun setting. the blaze of red-gold filling the sky like molten hope. He had longed all his life to be something more than just himself. Now he was a champion of the sacred arm of the church. He hoped that was enough.

 

[ferretguy]

So guys...think we're dead here in the west or what?