Tale #1a: The Pygmy Goat Ranch

[Bluehorse]

Sheriff Wyatte

He will climb up on one of the nearby borders to try and get a better look at their surroundings while listening to Jeremiah.

To George & Lenny Any if this look particularly suspicious to you?

Hearing the rattle of rocks, he holds his shotgun more at the ready. "You hear that? What do you make of it Jeremiah? Any reason it should be going on?

[Marullus]

"There's souls... souls in the wind, George," intones Lenny sonorously. George just nods solemnly, taking his shovel from his brother and gripping it tightly.

George replies to Sheriff Wyatte, pointing to a smaller rock just away from the largest one, the one he went to in the goat's memory. "There. We should check over yonder, Sheriff."

[Samwell Turleton]

"You hear that? What do you make of it Jeremiah?, the sheriff says before he starts searching for hand and foot holds on a rock face.

It could be the wind...it could be something moving around out there, Jeremiah says. You see that he has drawn a knife. Never can be too sure...or too careful.

"There. We should check over yonder, Sheriff", George says. It is the direction of the noise you heard.

Jeremiah starts moving in the direction George points in. Lenny and George move along with him, shovels in hand.

You squeeze through a gap between some large boulders. The boulders break the wind and the dust doesn’t come into this place. There are the remnants of a camp, embers from a fire, and scattered goat bones still with pieces of meat and fur clinging to the bone. The dirt floor of this space has been well trodden with animal tracks some bare footprints that all appear to be the same size.

Sheriff Wyatte finds purchase on the rock face but the blowing dust makes each hand hold slippery. He keeps his hold and makes it to the top. The dust is thinner at this height and Wyatte can see the silhouettes of Lenny, George, and Jeremiah as they slip out of view between some boulders. He also sees a shadowy silhouette creeping around the opposite side of where the group has gone and it is now out of his view.

Actions?

Sheriff - Climb [2d6+3] = 5+3 = 8

[Samwell Turleton]

Gold Bluff.jpg (169.58 KiB) Viewed 827 times

[Marullus]

George looks relieved, finally having a break from the oppressive dust. "S'good to see the ground." He picks up the reminants and looks them over for signs of cooking, gnawing, or cutting. "Ain't never seen dogs make camp fires, 'course. You know people camping here, Jeremiah?"

"Man-dogs." mumbles Lenny.

Investigate: George [2d6-1] = 5-1 = 4 Lenny [2d6] = 8

[Samwell Turleton]

Jeremiah says coolly, anyone who camps out here doesn’t usually go home if I find out about it.

Never seen man-dogs out here before though.

George kicks around in the dirt and bones and obscures some of the tracks. He looks around at the boulder walls and sees they are smooth worn stone with long layers of red and brown.

The wind picks up and howls through the gaps in the rocks.

There’s your man-dogs, Jeremiah chuckles.

Lenny looks around the camp and sees the three entrances into this area between the boulders. He moves more towards the center of the space and notices at a small distance some small stones that have been placed in a spiral shape.


I will advance this thread with a direction from the sheriff tomorrow if Bluehorse is unavailable. Feel free to continue your line of inquiry.

[Bluehorse]

The Sheriff

Spotting the figure moving around the camp Wyatte takes aim with his shotgun. SOMEONE COMING IN ON YOUR 10 O'CLOCK!!! YOU THERE! FREEZE!!!

[Samwell Turleton]

While you are in the sheltered space, out of the dust, the voices Lenny was hearing cannot be heard anymore.

Sheriff Wyatte standing on the boulder, out in the open, is beginning to hear the faint sounds of voices whispering in the wind. He remembers it was like his dream.

Someone coming..., the sheriff yells into the wind.

A bell rings and somehow it drowns out the other noises and becomes all that you hear. The sound reverberates in your ears and lingers. It is a beautiful, melancholy sound. It makes you think of your childhood. It brings back happy memories.

Please describe your character’s experience of the sound and a memory of the character

[Marullus]

The old dinner bell rings atop the pole in the yard as Cookie pulls on the bell-pull. Ding-da-ding-da-ding-a-ling.

George and Lenny drift in their shared memory to the old plantation, where they were little boys moving around with their dad as a sharecropper, back when times were better. They remember full bellies and crowded tables, with all the field-hands talking loudly and the children getting leftovers on the sideboard. George remembers the excitement of the men, eavesdropping on their conversations and trying to understand their talk. Lenny remembers the soft smile of Momma, she was always tired. The way she clucked over them like a hen to make sure they got fed amidst the other boys. It smells like buttery potatoes to Lenny. George smells fried chicken.

[Bluehorse]

the Sheriff

He had been mounted on a horse with the noose tight around his neck. He looked up at the high branch of a long dead tree in the glare of the sun.

He was already struggling to draw breath as his head throbbed from the subtle squeezing off of blood. He turned away from the sun's glare to give a glare of his own to those he had called brothers... of a sort.

Half-Smile the man who had all but raised him since as long as he could remember shook his head. You never could follow orders right. When I said leave no one... i meant no one.
Now all those brats and bitches are going to be able to call the law down on us... and give a description of us. You make me sick. To think I bothered calling you son. he slurred. Not because he was drunk, but because half his face on the left side had been torn away long ago during a botched train robbery.

The bells of the nearby down softly echoed off the time. 1...

His not so brothers shifted in their seats.

2...

They leaned forward, watching.

3...

Chug spit to the side.

4...

The horses realized something was up..

5...

His own horse shuffled his feet.

6...

Wyatte gritted his teeth as the noose tighted more.

7...

Half-smile took out his revolver.

8...

He cocked it.

9...

Wyatte saw a vulture begin circling... great.

10...

Half-Smile Any last words?

11...

Wyatte i hope the devil himself buggers you in hell with a barbed cock...

12...

BANG!

The horse bolted.

The bandits jeered and laughed.

Wyatte coughed and sputtered, strangling as he swung on the long rope.

Leave him. That buzzard looks hungry.

Wyatte choked and began to see stars. The bandit band he had grown up with rode away leaving him to die slowly.

Just as he was starting to finally mercifully lose consciousness, the brittle branch some 30 feet high finally gave away and fell and him with it.

He was jarred awake before he could slip away as the ground rose to meet him. He gasped and weeded, his neck burning like fire where the rope had dug in...

After some time, he struggled to his feet, hands still tied behind his back, dragging the rope and branch behind him by his still wounded neck towards town. He had to warn them what was coming. He had to get revenge...

[Samwell Turleton]

The bell’s tone vibrates in Jeremiah’s ears. The pressure of the sound is uncomfortable at first but gives way as a memory comes back to him, more vivid and real feeling than any time before.

Jeremiah sees the face of a little girl. She is smiling with her hand outstretched. Soft blond hair blows in a gentle breeze. The ends of her hair curl gently.

Hold your hand very still, Jeremiah whispers.

A delicate iridescent insect hovers around their heads darting this way and that. It lands delicately on the top of her hand for only a moment. Her hand shudders and it flies away.

The smile that she gives Jeremiah never leaves his memory.

[Samwell Turleton]

Jeremiah and Lenny are lost in a revery as the bell's tone fades.

The smell of fried chicken lingers in George's nostrils as the chattering of field-hands continues in the background. The sound of a bell's clapper ringing gently as it is jostled by movement mingles with the field-hands' voices. There is a scratching sound of a stick being dragged through the dirt. George's vision of his Momma starts to fade bringing him back to the shelter of the boulder field. He sees a lean figure, tightly wrapped in bandages under loose fitting clothing. It is walking purposefully around the campsite carrying a long crooked walking stick with a bell tied on at the end. The figure is making marks in the dirt.

Sheriff Wyatte is lost in thought, thinking of the day he cheated death and his vengeful purpose. His foot slips a little on the stone and the sudden sensation of being off balance brings him out of the memory. When he looks towards the boulder field he sees no signs of the shadowy figure he tried to warn the trio of.

George and Wyatte have the most awareness of the lean figure

Lenny Assess [2d6] = 3 George Assess [2d6] = 7

[Marullus]

Lenny sits cross-legged, hunched over and petting a white rabbit-fur muff in his hands with a glazed expression. "Momma," he says whistfully.

George stiffens. Need to be mindful around a Madman, he thinks. He watches the figure for a few moments. At least he's not a demon in the dust. If he's in here... "Loam? That you, Loam?" he clears his throat uncomfortably. "Not assuming, of course, nice to meet you if you is, Mr. Loam. If you ain't, maybe you know him, or you could tell us your name and all. You ain't in the devil-dust... right? We're just trying to find what's goin' on out here, and..." he trails off, falling silent and hoping the madman speaks.

[Samwell Turleton]

The figure continues its purposeful movement while continuing to drag the end of the stick in the dirt. You recognize that the movement is not angular and long curving lines are being drawn in the space between the boulders. It hasn't come upon the remnants of the campsite yet but it is heading in that direction.

George addresses the figure, "Loam? That you, Loam?"

If it hears you it hasn't acknowledged it as it continues to draw in the dirt.

"Not assuming, of course, nice to meet you if you is, Mr. Loam. If you ain't, maybe you know him, or you could tell us your name and all. You ain't in the devil-dust... right? We're just trying to find what's goin' on out here, and...", George continues.

The figure reaches some of the remnants of the campfire, bones, and meat and raises its face to George. It doesn't make a sound. The clapper on the bell rings a little as the staff is used as a crutch for the figure to kneel down. It kneels slowly, eyes on George the entire time, and it points a finger in your direction as if asking a question with the motion. Was this you?

Lenny and Jeremiah are coming out of their visions.
Wyatte can still make an action leading into this post and/or responding to this one.
George is being silently addressed by a pointing finger.

[Bluehorse]

Wyatte slides down the rock he was standing on and begins making his way over behind the figure, raising his shotgun, ready to fire should this go south in a hurry.

[Samwell Turleton]

I will update the graphic, but if it helps to visualize before I do for your next post, the figure is crouching on the large dot representing the campsite facing George.

I interpret Wyatte following from the direction he saw the shadowy figure enter into the boulder field. A shotgun will have a closer range than the revolver. The difference would be between being in the shadows between the boulders with the revolver or being in the open but trying to sneak out of view from the side of the figure to a position behind the figure with the shotgun.

The figure may already know of Wyatte's presence from outside the boulders.

[Samwell Turleton]

Gold Bluff_v4.jpg (171.57 KiB) Viewed 689 times

[Marullus]

The figure reaches some of the remnants of the campfire, bones, and meat and raises its face to George. It doesn't make a sound. The clapper on the bell rings a little as the staff is used as a crutch for the figure to kneel down. It kneels slowly, eyes on George the entire time, and it points a finger in your direction as if asking a question with the motion. Was this you?

George's eyes widen. "Me? Us? No, no no..." he shakes his head, hands up.
"Man-dogs," says Lenny, both hands wrapped in the rabbit-fur muff tightly.
"If it ain't yours, then we're looking to solve the same mystery," nods George to the madman.

[Samwell Turleton]

Jeremiah becomes more aware of his surroundings, blinking away the daydream, with eyes that are glossy and wet. He sniffs a little and notices George and the Lean Figure facing one another in a tense exchange. Jeremiah whispers, "although I haven't seen him up close myself, I think that may be Loam...fits the description. We all best be careful...madmen can be unpredictable.

Loam points to the shovels and makes a pushing motion in the direction of the campfire and bones. Then moves his hand in a circular motion while it is parallel to the ground.

Loam stands up again and makes a half turn. The clapper rattles a little inside the bell. Loam is facing Sheriff Wyatte and looking down the barrel of the sheriff's shotgun. Loam takes a step towards Wyatte. And then another.

The sheriff recognizes that, while not on top of, his feet are near to disturbing one of the curving lines that Loam drew in the dirt with his walking stick.

[Marullus]

No stranger to burying things, Lenny and George set to work, burying the campfire and bones.