Bad Moon over California
- Thread starter Bobitron
- Start date
Bobitron
Explorer
The Shaman said:
The prisoners look up forlornly as the gathered posse decides their fate. One, braver than the rest, speaks up.
"Look, we didn't shoot nobody. We ain't bad men. Just outta work cowboys lookin' to make a buck er two."
Removing his hat, he scratches his head nervously before continuing.
"Let us go, Marshal. I swear on the Good Book, y'all 'll never see us again."
His fellow rustlers nod emphatically, their young faces glowing with hope in the torchlight.
The Shaman
First Post
Dakota Turnbow
“It’s a hard fix, boys, but you ride with an outlaw, you die with an outlaw,” replies Dakota, his voice impassive. “I’m sorry y’all crossed the line, but killing and rustling, well the penalty’s the same where I come from.”
The wrangler shifts slightly in the saddle. “It’s the marshal’s posse. It’s his play.” Dakota fixes his gaze on Marshal Colburn.
“It’s a hard fix, boys, but you ride with an outlaw, you die with an outlaw,” replies Dakota, his voice impassive. “I’m sorry y’all crossed the line, but killing and rustling, well the penalty’s the same where I come from.”
The wrangler shifts slightly in the saddle. “It’s the marshal’s posse. It’s his play.” Dakota fixes his gaze on Marshal Colburn.
знаток
First Post
Marshal Colburn
Colburn's eyes coolly find the rustler as he speaks. "You fellas heard me, I don't feel like tree-huntin'." In an instant he raises his pistol to the speaker, firing a single shot into his neck. "There's plenty an honest way to make a buck gentlemen, and the ones that do it quick and easy - with no regard for the law that gives you the right to do so - ain't without consequences."
Attack: 18
Colburn's eyes coolly find the rustler as he speaks. "You fellas heard me, I don't feel like tree-huntin'." In an instant he raises his pistol to the speaker, firing a single shot into his neck. "There's plenty an honest way to make a buck gentlemen, and the ones that do it quick and easy - with no regard for the law that gives you the right to do so - ain't without consequences."
Attack: 18
hobbit_killer
First Post
Bear Trap
Bear Trap winces at the shot, "I ain't agreen' with it, but it's your call on how you wanna do these boys. You can shoot em' yourself, though. I want no part of it. Guess I ain't got the stomach for shootn' a man down like this."
With that he walks over to his horse and pulls a bottle of whiskey out of his saddlebag and takes a long pull from it.
Bear Trap winces at the shot, "I ain't agreen' with it, but it's your call on how you wanna do these boys. You can shoot em' yourself, though. I want no part of it. Guess I ain't got the stomach for shootn' a man down like this."
With that he walks over to his horse and pulls a bottle of whiskey out of his saddlebag and takes a long pull from it.
Bobitron
Explorer
знаток said:
The man's eyes bulge as the shot rips into the soft tissue of his neck. He falls face first into the dust at your feet, blood forming a muddy pool as he gurgles in the dirt.
The others quickly drop flat on the ground, wide-eyed as they watch the man's life blood flow onto the ground.
The Shaman
First Post
Dakota's eyes widen as the marshal shoots the rustler in the neck and Lightning steps back. I didn't reckon on that, he thinks reaching for the Colt strapped to his own hip as the big trapper says to Colburn, "I ain't agreen' with it, but it's your call on how you wanna do these boys. You can shoot em' yourself, though. I want no part of it. Guess I ain't got the stomach for shootn' a man down like this."
The wrangler’s thumb flicks the loop off the Thunderer’s hammer as his hand closes around the grip. “Marshal, I’ve shot a few men and I’ve hung a few more, but I’ve never gunned down a defenseless man in cold blood.” He tugs slightly at Lightning’s reins, turning the horse slightly to bring his gun-hand to bear. “If you’re set on shooting these boys, maybe we should at least give ’em blindfolds first, and a chance to make peace with their Maker?”
The wrangler’s thumb flicks the loop off the Thunderer’s hammer as his hand closes around the grip. “Marshal, I’ve shot a few men and I’ve hung a few more, but I’ve never gunned down a defenseless man in cold blood.” He tugs slightly at Lightning’s reins, turning the horse slightly to bring his gun-hand to bear. “If you’re set on shooting these boys, maybe we should at least give ’em blindfolds first, and a chance to make peace with their Maker?”
знаток
First Post
Marshal Colburn
One might expect a man to cool down after some logical discussion such as this. The problem with that expectation applied here was that the Marshal had been equally calm throughout. "Right you are. Your assistance is much appreciated. Now y'all get on back to the camp and settle in. I'll take care of this situation." Colburn holsters his pistol. "Riley, Michael, you fellas check that wagon for anything useful before you scram...and don't touch nothin' personal."
Sorry again about the damage roll.
One might expect a man to cool down after some logical discussion such as this. The problem with that expectation applied here was that the Marshal had been equally calm throughout. "Right you are. Your assistance is much appreciated. Now y'all get on back to the camp and settle in. I'll take care of this situation." Colburn holsters his pistol. "Riley, Michael, you fellas check that wagon for anything useful before you scram...and don't touch nothin' personal."
Sorry again about the damage roll.
Riley McClean
Riley looks on impassively as the Marshal cuts down one of the tied up rustlers, noting the reaction of the others.
"Well Dakota, personally, I agree with you. But in the end what's the difference between hanging, which might mean slowly being choked to death, or a fast bullet? Either way, you're dead with no chance to defend yourself," says the gunfighter.
"I'd say cut them lose, with no weapons and afoot, but I'll leave it up to the Marshal what he wants to do. However, Marshall, you might want to consider that Dakota here just did some some fast work to stop the stampede, and done a damn good job of it. You keep popping off with that six-gun and you're gonna get those cows running again, and this time they may not stop before they hit the ocean," Riley points out.
Riley looks at the Marshal and just shakes his head. "I didn't lose nothing in those wagons and I'm no thief who goes pawing through other people's stuff. I'll see you back at camp," he says, stalking off to where his horse was left.
Riley looks on impassively as the Marshal cuts down one of the tied up rustlers, noting the reaction of the others.
"Well Dakota, personally, I agree with you. But in the end what's the difference between hanging, which might mean slowly being choked to death, or a fast bullet? Either way, you're dead with no chance to defend yourself," says the gunfighter.
"I'd say cut them lose, with no weapons and afoot, but I'll leave it up to the Marshal what he wants to do. However, Marshall, you might want to consider that Dakota here just did some some fast work to stop the stampede, and done a damn good job of it. You keep popping off with that six-gun and you're gonna get those cows running again, and this time they may not stop before they hit the ocean," Riley points out.
знаток said:
Riley looks at the Marshal and just shakes his head. "I didn't lose nothing in those wagons and I'm no thief who goes pawing through other people's stuff. I'll see you back at camp," he says, stalking off to where his horse was left.
The Shaman
First Post
Dakota Turnbow
Dakota listens to the gunslinger, then the marshal without comment. He slips the loop back over the hammer of his pistol and tips his hat, then with a click of his tongue Lightning takes off at a trot back toward the posse's camp.
The cowboy's thoughts are as dark as the night. “That river got deep mighty fast tonight,” he says to Lightning. The horse snorts softly in reply and Dakota pats the cowpony’s neck.
To pass the time, and to avoid surprising D’Artois, Dakota begins to sing, the words carried aloft by his pleasant baritone into the gloomy night.
Have you heard tell of sweet Betsy from Pike
She crossed the wide prairie with her lover, Ike
With two yoke of oxen, a big yellow dog,
A tall Shanghai rooster and one spotted hog
One evening quite early they camped on the Platte
‘Twas nearby the road on a green, shady flat
Betsy, sore-footed, lay down to repose
In wonder Ike gazed on his Pike County rose
The Indians came down in a wild yelling horde
And Betsy got scared they would scalp her adored
Under the wagon wheel Betsy did crawl
She fought off them Indians with musket and ball
Out on the prairie one bright starry night
They broke out the whiskey and Betsy got tight
She sang and she shouted, she danced on the plain.
She made a great show for that whole wagon train
The Shanghai ran off and the cattle all died
The last piece of bacon that morning was fried
Ike got discouraged and Betsy got mad
The dog wagged his tail and looked wondrously sad
They soon reached the desert where Betsy gave out
And down in the sand she lay rolling about
Ike in great terror looked on in surprise
Saying, Betsy get up, you’ll get sand in your eyes
Sweet Betsy got up in a great deal of pain
Declared she’d go back to Pike County again
Ike, he just sighed, and they fondly embraced
And she traveled along with her arm round his waist
Dakota repeats the first verse as he dismounts and walks the last dozen or so yards into camp, where the gambler is waiting. “Evenin’, D’Artois,” he says with a nod as he unsaddles the cowpony. Dropping the saddle and bags a short distance from the campfire, Dakota removes Lightning's bit and bridle and lets the pony cool down while the wrangler retrieves a lead rope from his saddle bag.
Dakota listens to the gunslinger, then the marshal without comment. He slips the loop back over the hammer of his pistol and tips his hat, then with a click of his tongue Lightning takes off at a trot back toward the posse's camp.
The cowboy's thoughts are as dark as the night. “That river got deep mighty fast tonight,” he says to Lightning. The horse snorts softly in reply and Dakota pats the cowpony’s neck.
To pass the time, and to avoid surprising D’Artois, Dakota begins to sing, the words carried aloft by his pleasant baritone into the gloomy night.
Have you heard tell of sweet Betsy from Pike
She crossed the wide prairie with her lover, Ike
With two yoke of oxen, a big yellow dog,
A tall Shanghai rooster and one spotted hog
One evening quite early they camped on the Platte
‘Twas nearby the road on a green, shady flat
Betsy, sore-footed, lay down to repose
In wonder Ike gazed on his Pike County rose
The Indians came down in a wild yelling horde
And Betsy got scared they would scalp her adored
Under the wagon wheel Betsy did crawl
She fought off them Indians with musket and ball
Out on the prairie one bright starry night
They broke out the whiskey and Betsy got tight
She sang and she shouted, she danced on the plain.
She made a great show for that whole wagon train
The Shanghai ran off and the cattle all died
The last piece of bacon that morning was fried
Ike got discouraged and Betsy got mad
The dog wagged his tail and looked wondrously sad
They soon reached the desert where Betsy gave out
And down in the sand she lay rolling about
Ike in great terror looked on in surprise
Saying, Betsy get up, you’ll get sand in your eyes
Sweet Betsy got up in a great deal of pain
Declared she’d go back to Pike County again
Ike, he just sighed, and they fondly embraced
And she traveled along with her arm round his waist
Dakota repeats the first verse as he dismounts and walks the last dozen or so yards into camp, where the gambler is waiting. “Evenin’, D’Artois,” he says with a nod as he unsaddles the cowpony. Dropping the saddle and bags a short distance from the campfire, Dakota removes Lightning's bit and bridle and lets the pony cool down while the wrangler retrieves a lead rope from his saddle bag.
Last edited:
Similar Threads
