Bad Moon over California

[synecdoche]

D'Artois

D'Artois is seated on a flat rock, playing with a deck of cards. He hears Dakota's song and looks up. "Good day, sir. I trust the expedition went well."

 

[The Shaman]

Dakota Turnbow

Dakota considers D’Artois’s question before answering. “Well, we found them rustlers and got the cattle back. One of the cowboys and a few of the rustlers were killed. No one from the posse was hurt, near’s I can tell.” He pauses, slips the lead rope over Lightning’s head. “That marshal is a hard man.” He pauses again. Do I say more?

“I’m gonna water my horse and brush him down,” Dakota finishes. “The others should be along soon. They can tell you more.” With a nod Dakota takes his leave to tend to Lightning.

 

[hobbit_killer]

Bear Trap

"Ya know Marshal, I ain't to fond of grave diggn' and I doubt you are either. So before you pile em' up, I suggest you get em' to diggn."

Bear Trap's says this with a demeanor that is cold and uncaring. Completely different from his earlier comments. Perhaps he means it, pehaps he just wants to poit out how cold blooded the Marshal's actions are. He then slips his Big '50 into the scabbard on Horse and makes for camp.

 

[знаток]

Colburn calmly watches the men depart. As they ride away, the Marshal is heard ordering the prisoners to remove their boots as he walks toward the wagon.

 

[The Shaman]

Dakota Turnbow

Meanwhile, back at the camp...

After seeing to Lightning – cooling the cowpony down, brushing out the burrs from his fur, checking his hoofs for stones, and watering and feeding both Lightning and Thunder before picketing them for the night – Dakota returns to where D’Artois waits. Nodding to the gambler, Dakota removes a piece of jerky and a biscuit from his stores, and stretches out on his bedroll, leaning back against his saddle. Handle Animal: 30.

“Any sign o’ the others?” he asks.

 

[Bobitron]

Bear Trap and Riley start the ride back to camp without incident. As they start to the south, they can see Buckley riding up towards the horses with a few of his hands. Buckley gives them a wave as he notices the riders, but then continues on towards the remnants of the herd. It takes about a half hour to get back to D'Artois and Dakota, who are both relaxing near a campfire that casts a warm glow into the night air.

Marshal Colburn & Michael Sun-Hand-High: The prisoners remove their boots as asked, fear evident in the eyes of the rustlers as you calmly cover them with your pistol. Michael watches you in silence after finding nothing of interest in the wagon.

 

[знаток]

Marshal Colburn

Michael and GM: The calm after the storm of lead and cattle-panic is entirely external. Colburn knows right from wrong, but he also understands the necessity of good relations with those whose mutual trust he requires. He doesn't trust Buckley to punish the men honorably, either, and so decides to forfeit the rest he had hoped to get. Frustrated at himself for expecting the easy way out to suffice, he makes a silent promise to himself to avoid the slack in the future.

"Michael, get the men on their feet. Let's find some trees."

In a couple short hours - hands blistering from the tying of too many knots and ears weary from the cries of the men - he and Michael head back to camp.

The Marshal quietly settles in (assuming the party is asleep) far from the glowing embers of the fire for the few remaining hours before daylight.

 

[hobbit_killer]

Bear Trap

Bear Trap is silent most of the ride back to camp but about halfway back his voice cuts the darkness, "Ya know Riley, its a hell of a thing killn' a man. Ya take all he's got and all he's ever gonna have."

Upon returning to camp he nods a greeting to the others and sees to his horse and mule. Mule even seems to be shocked at his lack of cussing at her when he discovers that she had been chewing on the lead rope again. When finished, he unfurls his bedroll and pulls a bottle of whiskey out of his saddlebag. After a long pull that would put most men out, he belches, climbs into his bedroll and promptly goes to sleep.

 

[Committed Hero]

Michael Sun-Hand-High

It is harsh punishment for what these men did, but I have seen worse, both by my own people and by the chiefs of white lands. Certainly, the men we caught were willing to treat us as badly without worry on their faces. But I suspect there is less distance between those rustlers and several of the men riding with us than the Marshall realizes. He would do well to remember this.

 

[Bobitron]

It is a cold morning when you awaken, later than usual after last night’s exertion. The short and violent combat took more out of you than expected. D’Artois is already up, and has the fire going at roaring levels. Its warmth gives some comfort, but it can’t chase away the awkward glances that pass between you all as you get up.

You will have to take it easy on the horses today. The run through the dark last evening was rough on them after a long day of riding. The Marshal’s map reveals the plan was to reach Vinters, a small town 15 miles west of Sacramento, by sundown, but that doesn’t seem possible now.

“Another night under the stars,” the Marshal comments aloud to no one in particular as he tucks the map into its case. He lets out a deep breath as he turns to the group. “Finish up your Arbuckle’s and we’re off.”

“Michael, I want you up ahead today. The bridge at Clementine Crossing is washed away by now, for certain. Go on and scout us up a good place to cross. Take D’Artois with you, if ya like. He’s got a sharp eye.”