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Story Hour
"Revenge, Renewal and the Promise of a New Year" (Boot Hill/D&D)
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<blockquote data-quote="Silver Moon" data-source="post: 1726577" data-attributes="member: 8530"><p>This story is set in the Arizona Territory of the American West. The campaign uses hybrid Boot Hill and D&D rules and draws upon elements from both actual history and historical fiction. This is a parallel campaign that is set on the same world as the “Arcade’s Gang” Story Hour, which can be found at the following link. </p><p><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=28906" target="_blank">http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=28906</a></p><p></p><p></p><p><u>World Background: </u> </p><p></p><p>The primary religions in this campaign are the Greek/Roman, Celtic, Norse, Native American and Central American pantheons (with no Judeo-Christian religion). The native populations of the world are as follows: Central Europe, southern Europe and Mediterranean regions = Humans; Northern Europe = Dwarves; Native America = Elves and Centaurs; Central & South America = Wood Elves; Africa = Ogres; Australia = Halflings; East Asia = Orcs and Half-orcs; India = Goblins; Pacific Islanders = Gnomes; Antarctica = Giants and Bugbears. </p><p></p><p>Europe had major upheavals during the 14th to 16th century, but rather than the Protestant Reformation the conflict was regarding Clerical Magic vs. Wizard Magic. The Clerical-magic countries of Great Britain, Ireland, Scandinavia, Germany, Italy and Greece colonized most of North America. The Wizard-magic countries of France, Portugal and Spain colonized Central and South America. The world itself is “low magic”, where the vast majority of the people do not use magic at all and most priests, sorcerers, wizards and bards tend to be no higher than 5th Level. </p><p> </p><p></p><p><u>Primary Cast of Characters:</u></p><p>Chester Martin, "the ex-soldier", male human fighter (SteveJung)</p><p>Jake 'Silver Dollar' Cook, "the gambler", male human fighter (Barad the Gnome)</p><p>Katherine Kale, "the wealthy widow", female human expert (Orchid Blossom)</p><p>Nanuet, "the avenging Indian", male elf ranger (rgmc64) </p><p>Ruby West, "the saloon girl", female human bard (Queenie) </p><p>Sonoma, "the Cantina singer", female wood elf bard/druid (Kriskrafts)</p><p></p><p><u>Secondary Cast of Characters:</u></p><p>Alison "Al" Caine, "the lady gunslinger", female human fighter (Randomling) </p><p>Black Isaac O'Dell, "the ruthless gunslinger", male human fighter (Piratecat) </p><p>Chow Wei Hung, "the martial artist", male half-orc monk (Sir Osis of Liver) </p><p>Duncan MacRaibert, "the tracker", male human druid (Celticwolf) </p><p>Storm Golden Eye, "the Indian maiden", female centaur druid (Kriskrafts) </p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>Chapter One: “Katherine’s Story”, January 1, 1882, 7:00 P.M. </strong></p><p></p><p>As she looked out at the setting sun from the window of her room at the El Parador Cantina and Hotel, Katherine Kale smiled for the first time in months. She thanked Pedro Figueres, the owner of the three-story stone, adobe and timber building, for carrying her trunk up to the room. After he left she shut and locked the door, lit the lantern in the sparcely furnished room, and began to unpack. She soon came upon the book bound with blank pages that had been purchased last summer back in New England. She had intended for it to be a journal of her new life out west, although until this moment she had not been able to bring herself to write in it. But today was her first day in a new town, and on the first day of a new year, so it seemed an appropriate time to begin. She sat down on the bed and placed the book on the small bedside table, picked up her mechnical fountain pen and reflected back upon the events that had brought her here. </p><p></p><p></p><p>“Everyone had agreed that moving to Arizona was the best thing to do. Thomas’s doctor insisted that he would never be truly well if we stayed in Massachusetts, and with the business failing it wouldn’t be long before we could no longer afford the doctor’s fees. Once he’d recovered enough, Thomas left for our new life in Arizona while I stayed behind to oversee the sale of our home and most of our belongings. </p><p></p><p>I don’t think I can describe how lonely I was after he left. Even during the worst times of sickness, when he didn’t even know me, we were together. To have him go away so soon after he recovered nearly broke my heart. Still, the doctor said the “prairie cure” would have Thomas back to full health in no time, and a few months apart was a small price to pay for that. </p><p></p><p>He left in July, and it was October before he wired me to join him in the town of Tombstone, Arizona. His letters had been infrequent, but increasingly cheerful. He’d found work and made friends, and was glad to hear that I’d had little trouble in selling the house and most of our things. I hated giving up my grandmother’s piano, but one cannot move a piano on a train. I did keep back a beautiful green traveling dress. I wanted to be pretty for Tom when I stepped off the train. But Tom wasn’t at the station when I arrived in Tombstone. </p><p></p><p>That green dress was the last time I wore color. Tom’s friend Colby Tucker met me at the train and broke the news. Arizona had not been good for Tom’s health after all. A few days after he cabled me he fell ill again and passed on the day before my arrival. Both Mr. Tucker and Tom’s landlady seemed uncomfortable when I asked to see his body, but they finally took me to the undertaker. It seems morbid, I know, but I hadn’t seen my husband for months, and I knew if I didn’t see his body I would never quite believe he wasn’t still just away on a trip. I visited the town’s only dressmaker, a Frenchman named Henri, to obtain appropriate mourning clothes. I purchasing the black dress that I am now wearing. </p><p></p><p>He was buried that afternoon. It was quiet, with just a few people there. I could hear many of them whispering, mostly hearing, “Mrs. Kale,” or “his Katie,” as word of who I was spread. They were very kind, but uncomfortable, perhaps because as much as they may have liked my husband, I was a stranger. </p><p></p><p>I spent the first two months of mourning at Tom’s boarding house not seeing anyone except for at meals and even then I kept to myself. It was then that I came to the realization that I couldn’t stay in Tombstone. I couldn’t imagine ever being happy there, as it would always remind me of Tom’s death. Even the town’s name spoke of death. I briefly considered going back east, but that almost felt like betraying Tom. We had planned to build a life here, and I couldn’t conceive of changing our plans. So this afternoon, the first day of the new year, I boarded the stage for Promise City, Arizona. Only a couple hours away, I would still be close enough to Tom’s resting place to visit, but I wouldn’t be living under the shadow of his passing. </p><p></p><p>The variety of people who boarded that stage with me came as a surprise. Some of them were races I’d never even seen before. I tucked myself in a corner away from the bald half-orc and the Indian. The Indian was attired in leather clothing and beads, with a large knife in his belt and a bow strapped across his back. We heard stories of the fierceness of Indians in the East. I try not to pay heed, but I’ll admit to being a bit frightened by him, as well as the centaur who seemed to intend to walk alongside the stage. The centaur was female, and was shamelessly attired only in a short top that barely covered her chest. </p><p></p><p>There were other worrisome figures in the coach as well. One was a man with a low voice and a long drawl chewing on a matchstick. He wore black clothing, a black hat, with a dark leather duster. He also carried an arsenal of weapons, with both a revolver and lasso on his belt, a carbine rifle and a shotgun by his side, and a Bowie knife protruding from each of his well-made boots. The man made me nervous, and I touched the cold metal of Tom’s pistol hidden in my skirts and scooted a bit closer to the sweet-faced red haired girl to my left. She was attired in a pretty dress and unlike our companions had no visible weapons. She smiled at me and introduced herself as Ruby West. </p><p></p><p>The man seated next to Ruby appeared innocent enough. wearing well-worn English-style clothes. He had a friendly smile, but a bulge under his jacket pocket hinted of a concealed firearm. I decided it best to remain cautious with him, which appeared easy enough to do, as he seemed more interested in Ruby than myself. Sitting beside him was a halfling. The little man was dressed in a brown three-piece suit, with a pocket watch on a gold chain hanging from a vest pocket. He wore a dusty black top hat and propped his hairy bare feet up atop a small overstuffed case with papers protruding from where the case closed. </p><p></p><p>I watched the last passenger entered the stage, an androgynous figure wearing western clothing and a gun belt with a pair of Colt pistols and extra ammunition. The passenger sat down and hunched in the remaining seat, directly across from me, as the Wells Fargo Company stage lurched forward. It appeared that we all wanted to get to Promise City. I was grateful that in a couple of hours we would be there and we could then all go our separate ways. Little did I know that fate would have other ideas.”</p><p></p><p></p><p><em>Special thanks to Orchid Blossom for assisting with the writing of this chapter. </em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Silver Moon, post: 1726577, member: 8530"] This story is set in the Arizona Territory of the American West. The campaign uses hybrid Boot Hill and D&D rules and draws upon elements from both actual history and historical fiction. This is a parallel campaign that is set on the same world as the “Arcade’s Gang” Story Hour, which can be found at the following link. [url]http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=28906[/url] [U]World Background: [/U] The primary religions in this campaign are the Greek/Roman, Celtic, Norse, Native American and Central American pantheons (with no Judeo-Christian religion). The native populations of the world are as follows: Central Europe, southern Europe and Mediterranean regions = Humans; Northern Europe = Dwarves; Native America = Elves and Centaurs; Central & South America = Wood Elves; Africa = Ogres; Australia = Halflings; East Asia = Orcs and Half-orcs; India = Goblins; Pacific Islanders = Gnomes; Antarctica = Giants and Bugbears. Europe had major upheavals during the 14th to 16th century, but rather than the Protestant Reformation the conflict was regarding Clerical Magic vs. Wizard Magic. The Clerical-magic countries of Great Britain, Ireland, Scandinavia, Germany, Italy and Greece colonized most of North America. The Wizard-magic countries of France, Portugal and Spain colonized Central and South America. The world itself is “low magic”, where the vast majority of the people do not use magic at all and most priests, sorcerers, wizards and bards tend to be no higher than 5th Level. [U]Primary Cast of Characters:[/U] Chester Martin, "the ex-soldier", male human fighter (SteveJung) Jake 'Silver Dollar' Cook, "the gambler", male human fighter (Barad the Gnome) Katherine Kale, "the wealthy widow", female human expert (Orchid Blossom) Nanuet, "the avenging Indian", male elf ranger (rgmc64) Ruby West, "the saloon girl", female human bard (Queenie) Sonoma, "the Cantina singer", female wood elf bard/druid (Kriskrafts) [U]Secondary Cast of Characters:[/U] Alison "Al" Caine, "the lady gunslinger", female human fighter (Randomling) Black Isaac O'Dell, "the ruthless gunslinger", male human fighter (Piratecat) Chow Wei Hung, "the martial artist", male half-orc monk (Sir Osis of Liver) Duncan MacRaibert, "the tracker", male human druid (Celticwolf) Storm Golden Eye, "the Indian maiden", female centaur druid (Kriskrafts) [B]Chapter One: “Katherine’s Story”, January 1, 1882, 7:00 P.M. [/B] As she looked out at the setting sun from the window of her room at the El Parador Cantina and Hotel, Katherine Kale smiled for the first time in months. She thanked Pedro Figueres, the owner of the three-story stone, adobe and timber building, for carrying her trunk up to the room. After he left she shut and locked the door, lit the lantern in the sparcely furnished room, and began to unpack. She soon came upon the book bound with blank pages that had been purchased last summer back in New England. She had intended for it to be a journal of her new life out west, although until this moment she had not been able to bring herself to write in it. But today was her first day in a new town, and on the first day of a new year, so it seemed an appropriate time to begin. She sat down on the bed and placed the book on the small bedside table, picked up her mechnical fountain pen and reflected back upon the events that had brought her here. “Everyone had agreed that moving to Arizona was the best thing to do. Thomas’s doctor insisted that he would never be truly well if we stayed in Massachusetts, and with the business failing it wouldn’t be long before we could no longer afford the doctor’s fees. Once he’d recovered enough, Thomas left for our new life in Arizona while I stayed behind to oversee the sale of our home and most of our belongings. I don’t think I can describe how lonely I was after he left. Even during the worst times of sickness, when he didn’t even know me, we were together. To have him go away so soon after he recovered nearly broke my heart. Still, the doctor said the “prairie cure” would have Thomas back to full health in no time, and a few months apart was a small price to pay for that. He left in July, and it was October before he wired me to join him in the town of Tombstone, Arizona. His letters had been infrequent, but increasingly cheerful. He’d found work and made friends, and was glad to hear that I’d had little trouble in selling the house and most of our things. I hated giving up my grandmother’s piano, but one cannot move a piano on a train. I did keep back a beautiful green traveling dress. I wanted to be pretty for Tom when I stepped off the train. But Tom wasn’t at the station when I arrived in Tombstone. That green dress was the last time I wore color. Tom’s friend Colby Tucker met me at the train and broke the news. Arizona had not been good for Tom’s health after all. A few days after he cabled me he fell ill again and passed on the day before my arrival. Both Mr. Tucker and Tom’s landlady seemed uncomfortable when I asked to see his body, but they finally took me to the undertaker. It seems morbid, I know, but I hadn’t seen my husband for months, and I knew if I didn’t see his body I would never quite believe he wasn’t still just away on a trip. I visited the town’s only dressmaker, a Frenchman named Henri, to obtain appropriate mourning clothes. I purchasing the black dress that I am now wearing. He was buried that afternoon. It was quiet, with just a few people there. I could hear many of them whispering, mostly hearing, “Mrs. Kale,” or “his Katie,” as word of who I was spread. They were very kind, but uncomfortable, perhaps because as much as they may have liked my husband, I was a stranger. I spent the first two months of mourning at Tom’s boarding house not seeing anyone except for at meals and even then I kept to myself. It was then that I came to the realization that I couldn’t stay in Tombstone. I couldn’t imagine ever being happy there, as it would always remind me of Tom’s death. Even the town’s name spoke of death. I briefly considered going back east, but that almost felt like betraying Tom. We had planned to build a life here, and I couldn’t conceive of changing our plans. So this afternoon, the first day of the new year, I boarded the stage for Promise City, Arizona. Only a couple hours away, I would still be close enough to Tom’s resting place to visit, but I wouldn’t be living under the shadow of his passing. The variety of people who boarded that stage with me came as a surprise. Some of them were races I’d never even seen before. I tucked myself in a corner away from the bald half-orc and the Indian. The Indian was attired in leather clothing and beads, with a large knife in his belt and a bow strapped across his back. We heard stories of the fierceness of Indians in the East. I try not to pay heed, but I’ll admit to being a bit frightened by him, as well as the centaur who seemed to intend to walk alongside the stage. The centaur was female, and was shamelessly attired only in a short top that barely covered her chest. There were other worrisome figures in the coach as well. One was a man with a low voice and a long drawl chewing on a matchstick. He wore black clothing, a black hat, with a dark leather duster. He also carried an arsenal of weapons, with both a revolver and lasso on his belt, a carbine rifle and a shotgun by his side, and a Bowie knife protruding from each of his well-made boots. The man made me nervous, and I touched the cold metal of Tom’s pistol hidden in my skirts and scooted a bit closer to the sweet-faced red haired girl to my left. She was attired in a pretty dress and unlike our companions had no visible weapons. She smiled at me and introduced herself as Ruby West. The man seated next to Ruby appeared innocent enough. wearing well-worn English-style clothes. He had a friendly smile, but a bulge under his jacket pocket hinted of a concealed firearm. I decided it best to remain cautious with him, which appeared easy enough to do, as he seemed more interested in Ruby than myself. Sitting beside him was a halfling. The little man was dressed in a brown three-piece suit, with a pocket watch on a gold chain hanging from a vest pocket. He wore a dusty black top hat and propped his hairy bare feet up atop a small overstuffed case with papers protruding from where the case closed. I watched the last passenger entered the stage, an androgynous figure wearing western clothing and a gun belt with a pair of Colt pistols and extra ammunition. The passenger sat down and hunched in the remaining seat, directly across from me, as the Wells Fargo Company stage lurched forward. It appeared that we all wanted to get to Promise City. I was grateful that in a couple of hours we would be there and we could then all go our separate ways. Little did I know that fate would have other ideas.” [I]Special thanks to Orchid Blossom for assisting with the writing of this chapter. [/I] [/QUOTE]
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"Revenge, Renewal and the Promise of a New Year" (Boot Hill/D&D)
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