Tombstone(Open)

[TheScarletBlade]

((This is the IC for the thread Tombstone.If your intrested,please post a bio on the OOC thread.We are always open.))

By 1877,the civil war was over and people had began moving into the west to settle it.California,Oregon,Arizonia,Nevada became massively popular states,because they were full of gold and silver which sold at a high rate and many people moved west to a make a fortune for their own.One such person was Ed Schieffelin,who was a prospector in Ariazonia,checking the hills east of the San Pedro River in the south east portion of Arizonia when he ran across a high plateau that was filled with silver ore.He named his mine toom stone and it became the largest silver mine in Arizonia.

In 1879,The town of Tombstone became the first "Boomtown" in Arizonia as people from all around flocked to the isolated silver mining city.By 1881 it was one of the largest towns in all of Arizonia and had all modern technologies and services,yet there was one problem.Since it didn't have train tracks leading to it,it was heavily isolated and was preyed on by Bandits from mexico,from texas and indians that lived a little farther north of Tombstone.It soon became one of the deadliest spots in the entire west.With dead people in the streets of Tombstone and many people of ill repute,death became just another thing to the people of Tombstone as they struggled to keep living their lives.Now in 1882,Tombstone is currently lawless and bustling with all sorts of new faces.How will you meet your destiny?

March 17th,1882
Tombstone,Arizonia

As the large,multicolored sun fell out of the sky,sinking below the horizon and leaving the United States in darkness as the sun moved off around the world to bring light to many of the other countries.Darkness blanketed the city of Tombstone,though the lights of hundreds of taverns,hotels and residential homes illuminated the dusty streets,the street made of nothing more than the now cold desert sand under the travellers boot.Not many people walked the streets of Tombstone as people went to sleep after a long day of mining the silver mines,though the screams,cheers and the drunken bumbling of the gamblers,outlaws,harlots and gunslingers resounded from the taverns,filling the night with music,going on into the night without stopping.Tombstone was like any town out in the west,just a little more isolated and with a little more bad men,which ment more gamblers and more gun fights,which didn't bother Sir.Edward Solomen one bit,being of his current profession: Gambler.

Sir.Edward walked down the dark street of tombstone,walking silently and with a stright back,unafraid of all the horrible men out at night and unfazed by the dank smell and the loud noises comming from the taverns as he walked past a few of them,trying to find a nice quiet saloon,if one even existed.Feeling up to a card game around now,in a warm room with a little bit of fresh wine,something he really need right now.It had been a long ride from Tuscon to Tombstone,in which is horse died of dehydration in the desert about five miles away from the city,leaving its master to walk through the desert and get his fine clothes all dirty.Despite having the walk in the desert with low light,Sir.Edward found himself in the city at no time and miraculously,he was cleaner than most of the people in the city.Moving at a casual pace,he pushed the swinging doors of a saloon open and steeped into the quiet and almost deserted room,all cept one group of people playing cards and the bartender.

Sir.Edward was a handsome man,though sort of strange to most people in the west,because he was a foreigner.He was a English man from London,a rich family and he had served in the queens service or so he says.He is a knight of England though and has been dubbed so,thus the Sir before his name.Sir.Edward is a younger man though,around 22 and somewhere about 6'1.He is thin and narrow,not really strapping with muscle or massively broad shouldered like many of these American cowboys.Wearing a fine,black silk shirt that has silver buttons and expensive black pants and a cowboy had with a strip of lions hide tracing around the hat,a suvenoir of his trip to Africa.Being clean shaven yet with an unmistakable foreigner look,he was sort of out of place in the west,though he wore his two Colt SAA(Single Action Armies) .45 caliber,the most power revolver ever,finely polished.One with an ivory hand the other a dark black one,they were identical pistols,the twins as he called them.On his belt were multiple bullets for when he needed to reload.

Moving across the the table,he pulled out his small black bilfold and pulled out a bunch of American currency,enough to throw to the dealer and join the game.He didn't say a word to any of the men sitting at the table with him but he could tell the that the weasly looking mexican and the gruff looking,massive American man,both dirty as could be and smelled like high heaven and drunk out of their minds,both didn't like him because he was a foreigner.He said nothing though and got his cards: an ace and a queen.21! Someone up there really loved him as he proclaimed in his calm,cool and definitely British accent " 21 lads,looks like I win the round" He said with a broad smile.Raking in the chips,Sir.Edward continued playing.By the end of the day,he had ended the game,with all the money.As the final cards went down,Sir.Edward having a twenty and winning all the money.Smirking,Sir.Edward began to stand but the mexican and the cowboy were on their feet and growling at him.

"You stinking English cheat,you dirty fucking Brit,you robbed me and I am gonna take it out of you,the hard way" The American said,moving over towards him and extended his hands out to grab the Englishman around the next or attempting to.Taking a step back,The quick and dexterious english man moved to the side and slipped around the American." Now chap,I am only good at two things,fighting and gamblin and I would rather be doing the latter.Let us get back to the game before things get dirty." Sir.Edward said as he reached down to his holsters and ran a finger across the British flag that was engraved on the black leather.His finger worked over the cross in the center of the flag.

"I want this to get dirty you foreigner,your not welcome here,we American kicked your ass in the old war,its no longer right for you to be here,if you want this to get dirty than see if you can take this" As the drunken American moved towards his gun.Sober and already quicker than the American,Sir.Edward had both of his pistols out.His left hand,the ivory hilter revolver leveled at the American,Sir.Edward pulled the hammer back and almost instantously his pistol rang out and shot out the bullet,it slamming against the Americans chest,the impact caving in his chest and sending him down to the ground hard.Moving with lightning speed and at the same time as his other pistol went off,his second pistol rang out,the black hilted one sent a shot out at the mexican man,catching him in the head and splattering it all over the bar.Taking a deep breath and looking around,both men dead and the bartender running for cover,Edward spun both pistols around and holstered them with ease.The dealer at the table looking horrified. Sir.Edward took a deep breath and retook his seat at the table,looking at the dealer "I'll help you carry the bodies out,give me a second to catch my bloody breath chap" Sir.Edward said,grinning.

 

[IXIHawkeyeIXI]

Allen Eldrad was exhausted. He had been away from any form of civilization for a number of months, which had come to feel like years. The business he had gotten himself into all those years ago - being a gun-for-hire, had not always proved to be the easiest life. HIs horse was beginning to tire, as was he. The town of Tombstone was finally beginning to come into his view, a few hours after sunset. Normally, he would have stopped when the sun set and set up camp, but he was tired of camping. He knew that he was going to be getting to Tombstone soon, and he wanted to sleep on an actual bed for a night.

His clothes had become quite dirty. He had not been able to wash them in some time, and they had acquired quite the layer of dirt over the past few weeks. The sand stood out on the black jacket and pants he normally wore, as well as on his matching hat. The only thing on him that was clean were his guns - two .45 caliber pistols. And these were only clean in the literal sense of the word. He had taken many lives with these guns, and much blood had been shed by them.

He finally made into the outskirts of town and smiled. Jumping off of his horse, he stood at 6 feet tall, even. Looking into the eyes of his horse, his only constant companion, he smiled. "Well old buddy, looks like we get to rest for a bit. Hope you don't mind this town...looks a bit run down I guess. But what the hell...it should last us a while. Let's find a place to tie you up." Slowly, he moved around the town, finally tying his old friend out front of the first salloon he found. He rubbed his unshaven face and smiled. Even after being out in the sun for months, his rugged good looks were still present. "How 'bout that...a salloon. I could do for a bit of a drink myself." He patted the horse's head and entered the salloon, raising his eyebrows slightly at the scene in front of him.

Allen watched as the foreigner managed to wipe the floor with the American and the Mexican. A smile crossed his face as he watched the Englishman blow the other two away. After all of this happened, he moved to the bar and grabbed himself a glass and a bottle of alcohol, tossing a few dollars on the bartop to cover the cost. He moved back to the foreigner and nodded to the two dead men. "Not bad shooting, some of the best I've ever seen from an Englishman. No offense meant of course."

 

[blackopal19]

The camp had been buzzing all night. Located several miles away from rowdy town of Tombstone in a well hidden glen. The camp was celibrating. The shaman had fortold of good fortune, and of wealth. The braves had been riling each other up. Drums sounded, men and women danced around a large central fire.

The braves had painted their bodies, and their steeds. They were preparing for another raid against the settlers. The white men who had dared to come into their country constantly pushed them to move their camp. The only way to retaliate was to steal horses, something that her band needed. More horses meant faster travel, and bigger boasting rights than their rivals.

Namid watched this all. She had danced with the men, helping to paint their bodies. Her father, the chief, had watched and warned her not to go. He didn't approve of his one and only daughter going on raids, even though she had proven herself to be able to handle herself on the back of her horse. But Namid was prepared to disobey him. She had stashed her bow and quiver in some brush just outside of the camp. Her horse had been prepared and was tied and waiting for her too. Tonight, she thought to herself, she would not have to stay and content herself with womanly duties.

After the final blessings were given the braves mounted and were off. Namid stole away shortly after. Her horse was swift and responsive and she soon caught up with them. Her father was furious, but by the time she caught up with them, he would not turn back. She would have to keep up or stay out of the way.

Tonight they were not going to steal from the outlying ranches. Most places had already been picked through, with the best mounts already taken. No, tonight they would go to the stockyards right on the edge of Tombstone. It would provide them with many many horses. And would make an impressive story to tell.

The stopped about half a mile from the town in the dark. A few scouts went ahead to see and came back with reports that the stockyard was barely guarded. Tensions were high, as in the darkness the band of raiders moved their mounts in near silence towards the stock pens.

 

[PredatorX]

The two men beside the camp fire looked very seriously at eachother. Neal Corman sighed and stirred in the fire so it wouldn´t go out. "You sure about this?" He asked his friend and leader of the outlaws. William Sharpe just shrugged and turned his glare into the flames. "We need to think about his best interrest, to his future. That future ain´t with us." He turned to Neal again. "This past week have been hell. We where lucky to get out alive. Next time it may be the last. You wan´t him hanged or shot?"

Neal knew William told the truth. It had been to close. They made it out barely. They lost three of their companions and now they where only three left. He knew what his decision would be before he opened his mouth. "You know that Nathan will object to this right? He isn´t a quitter and certainly not a coward." The smile on Williams lips said that he knew that. "We will give him the reasons why he should quit while he can. I am sure he will see reason." Neal chuckled softly. "I wish i had your confidence in that."

"Well, i know him well enough to persuade him. He will understand our point. He is to young to be hanged. One more thing is that i don´t wan´t him to be forced to kill anyone. He have killed peaple yes, but he always had good reason to." William sighs. "If he keeps with us he will be forced to kill more peaple if he won´t be killed first." Neal looked into the fire while nodding his head. "He is the fastest and most accurate shot i have seen. If he leaves us i hope he won´t need that skill anymore."

"You know him Neal, as do i. He is quick to anger and his ability with six shooters have led him into trouble before but so far it is the same ability that have taken him out of it as well." William stood up and walked over to his saddle bags that was placed against a tree. He opened it and took out a small pouch. He turned towards the fire and his friend. "I took the liberty to place the bounty of our last job in this." He tapped the pouch with his fingers. "And i also took some of my savings. Wan´t to contribute my friend?" Neal sat and looked at William with a smile. "For Nathan i guess? If so i´m in."

Two hours later a lone rider rode up to the clearing where the two men still sat beside the fire. William looked up with a question in his eyes. The rider dismounted. "The posse gave up a hour ago, i just stayed away to make sure." William smiled. "Take care of your horse and then join us. We have things to discuss." Nathan Crowe tilted his head ans smiled mockingly. "As you wish."

Back at the fire Nathan looks at his two friends. "So what to discuss?" Neal and william share a look before William starts to speak. "We have been discussing your future, and it ain´t with us." Before Nathan can say anything Neal burst in the conversation. "You have a chance to get out of this. To get a life away from violence and death." William shakes his head to stop Nathan from talking. "We have watched you from being a boy with the skill of a gunslinger to a young man with a good head on his shoulders. You need to get a life on your own without the influence from us. We are not far from Tombstone. I believe you could get a good life there. Me and Neal have some money that belongs to you. It will be the start of a good life for you."

 

[Screech]

It had been an increadably long day, and the night seemed as though it was going to prove to be even longer. First there had been the scorching heat of the unbared sun, and now that it had gone down, heat was being leached from everything by the desert winds. Even James Sherman's horse was becomming sluggish with the cold and dehydration. So sluggish and weak, in fact, the James couldn't ride it any more.

Having dismounted about a mile ago, James continued to make his way through the desert, his horse in tow, to one of the most talked about towns in the west. Tombstone. No doubt he'd be able to find a good number of outlaws lurking in it's alleys to bring in a respectable bounty. And, if he was lucky, find one of the scum that kidnapped his daughter.

Normally quite tall and imposing, James now looked quite world-weary as he hunched over slightly, wrapping his coat tightly around himself, dust and sand encrusting the once fine black leather. Sound reached his ears over the howling winds, and Jamed doubled his pace, soon entering the town of Tombstone. It seemed that most of the ruccus was coming from much furthur into town, so James hitched up his horse to a post and left it there to drink it's fill of water before walking into the nearby tavern.

Raising his wide-brimmed black hat, he took in the sight of a poker game being played, albeit with two dead bodies laying nearby, and a look of shock on the bartender's face. He didn't really pay much attention. Bounty-hunter he may be, gut taking on 5 guys with nothing but his H&R Defenders would stretch his luck. Walking over to the bar, he dropped a couple of dollars on it.

"Whiskey"

 

[sharingfantasies]

When two gunshots went off down the street, Kate O'Shea barely shifted from where she was bent over her desk proofreading the advertisement she was preparing. Gunshots were heard day and night in rapidly growing town of Tombstone and very few people reacted to them anymore. Kate had learned that it was easier to work at night in the noisy central area of town then to try to sleep while the saloon was open and tinny music from the piano was mixed with the loud voices of drunken gamblers and the frequent gun shots.

Kate and her father had moved to Tombstone when it was a small cluster of businesses catering to the silver miners in the area. Now, just a few years later, it was a booming helltown where the miners were frequently robbed and the townspeople deserted the streets a half hour before the sun went down. Kate felt fairly comfortable on the streets and was a common sight as her long legs, usually clad in miner's denim pants, took her from business to business in the search of news or other printing business. Kate did all the writing herself but her assistant, Joe Kenny, helped to set type and did most of the actual printing. Kate also hired the Randolph kids to hawk her newspapers every Monday and Thursday.

Flipping her long braid over her shoulder, Kate stretched and wondered if the gunshots would take Doc over to the saloon as a doctor or undertaker. She would get the information from him tomorrow for the next issue of the paper, although there were so many killings nightly that, unless the person was one of Tombstones regular citizens, the article would be small and at the back of the paper and read, "X number of bodies were sent to undertaker for burial on X night." Kate actually kept one printer frame preset for this article needing only to enter the number of bodies and the exact day. Sometimes she just put in the type to read "this week" when the body count was high.

Stretching as she finished the monthly ad for the local dry goods/general store, which she would print on the very last page of the paper for eight issues, Kate stood up and walked over to the small Franklin Stove she kept in the corner of the large shop. Although the summer desert could get to temperatures in the hundreds during the day, in the winter the nights had been known to be so cold that a light flurry of snow fell. Tonight was a warm one, however, and she kept the stove lit just enough to keep her old beat up coffee pot warm. Pouring the last drops into her oversized silver cup her dad had had the silversmith make for her for Christmas seven years ago, Kate glanced at the grandfather clock which had come from England when the Eagle had been shipped over.

The hands read two-thirty which meant things should start slowing down in the saloon for the night. Usually by four the town was quiet and Kate would head for bed to sleep until ten or so. Most of the townsfolk had learned, as a matter of survival, to keep the same hours as the saloon's customers, staying up late and sleeping in late and no business, except the hotel and diner, opened before ten. There really wasn't any point to opening earlier since 90% of the town's customers slept until then or later. A few years ago the townspeople had kept a different schedule, often open by seven a.m. and closing at five o'clock, but times had changed, and not for the best in Kate's opinion.

Her short break over, Kate returned to the desk and began to write out an announcement for Missy Smith and Terence McBane who were getting married on Sunday and wanted the entire town to know so that they could show up at the church on the edge of town the Sunday after next. Terrence had found a pretty good strike of silver in the earlier years of the strike and used the money to open up a dry goods/general store. Missy Smith came from Akron, Ohio last winter with her farming family and was an excellent seamstress. She sold hand-made shirts and dresses to the store.

With a small smile reflecting the happiness of the two lovebirds, Kate listened to the footsteps and voices nearing the shop as the bodies of the shooting were being carried to Doc's next door. Since the steps were unhurried, she knew that meant the bodies were bound for Doc's back parlor where they would be laid until he did the measurements to determine which coffin would fit each corpse best. Tomorrow morning, Doc's diggers would take the bodies out to Potter's Field.
Kate leaned up over the desk to the chalkboard hanging on the wall and under the heading of "Dead bodies" she wrote the date and put a question mark to remind her to get the actual body count from Doc tomorrow. Then with a small yawn, went back to her wedding flyer.

 

[JckHmmr_2000]

Juan De La Cruz

Common sense dictates that I travel as discreetly as possible, humbly hugging the sides of the streets and avoiding all contact with Caucasians. However, I am much too hungry, thirsty and fatigued to worry that someone might recognize me or more likely, simply harass me for being Asian. After trudging across the desert for days, I welcome the sight of civilization -- or at the very least, the shadow of something akin to one.

"Tombstone," my parched throat croaks softly as I read the sign just outside of town. Truly, a fitting name for a place that will most likely witness my demise. I wonder, however, if my grave will bear the luxury of having a proper tombstone.

I shrug off my negative thoughts, and wonder if I can get a job in this town. I need to find a way to support myself; I own nothing save the shoes and clothes I wear, the spectacles on my face and a wooden sword that my old friend and mentor carved out of white oak for me. Perhaps I can find a job as a dishwasher or cook somewhere...

I miss the old man already; a part of me still can't believe he's dead -- murdered for the crime of getting too old to keep alive. I should have killed his murderer, but I know he wouldn't want that. Instead, in memory of my friend and mentor, I gave the murderer the charity he wouldn't give to an "aging coolie."

Well, maybe not the SAME charity... After all, I beat him senseless with the rifle he used to shoot and kill my teacher. In retrospect, I should have taken the man's clothing, boots, horse, weapons and money. Then again, I'm glad that thieving is not something that comes naturally to me.

I sling my bokken across my shoulders and lean both arms on it as I trudge into town. Moments later, I trip and fall face-first onto the raised wooden planks at the front of a building's entrance. Before everything goes black, I feel a wry sense of gladness, knowing that I tucked my spectacles safely away from harm.

 

[Mystical Avalon]

To Danielle, the shootings below were just another part of her daily life. She sat covered in a silk robe watching the male customer dress. Another day she sighed as she stood. The man quickly grabbed greedily at her breasts and fumbled to feel her up as he tossed the few measly coins on the bed. At least this one had been gentlemanly enough to buy her a drink even if he did smell of dirt and shit.

She was tired. Her only refuge was when the saloon closed and she could sneak to the bathing closet and wash the smell of sex and everything else off her carelessly worn body. She had grown accustomed to the smells after the first few months and the were daily parts of her routine. But any break from the norm was welcomed. Walking back to the open window, she poured the last of the whisky into the glass and drank it down. The breeze that blowed brought with it mangled sounds of men both agreeing and disagreeing. Tomorrow she may just have to see if she couldnt double her measly 2 dollars in a hand or two of poker. Maybe the next fella would be kind enough to ask her her name instead of calling her "whore"

How degrading that name may sound, that was what she was. No matter how you said it, she was a whore. Luckily for Danielle, she liked to screw as much as she liked to drink and play poker. Putting down her glass, she gathered her shimmy and slipped down the hall. The bathing closet was dark and empty as she eased into the room. Nothing fancy she thought, just wash it off so you dont smell like ass tomorrow. It was, tomorrow, paid day for most ranch hands. She would be busy. Tombstone was no place for a lady, she thought and sent herself into peels of laughter. She was never going to be a lady. Not unless whores were sent to finishing school.

 

[DrStein]

Logan heard the gunshots ring out as he guided his horse into town. He paid it little mind though. He'd seen gunfights before. Those who stayed out of the way had little, if anything, to worry about. Even if it was a case of robbery, Logan didn't have much worth taking anyway. A cheap rifle, a knife, and a pocketful of money. Nothing he couldn't afford to lose. His saddlebags had only trail rations, a fire-starting kit, clothes... the bare essentials, and nothing which bandits would have a lot of interest in. Logan never carried more than he could stand to lose, but would fight to the death for the few things he had that meant anything. Specifically, his medicine bag, his horse, and his totem medallion.

Logan came into the town and allowed his eyes to slowly roam before he came to a stop in front of a tavern that he hoped would have room for the night. He lashed his stallion, Flint, by the watering trough and slipped inside quietly, not wanting to attract too much attention. At least not right now.

He moved to the bar and let his eyes, bleary with the dust of the trails, scan the collected patrons before turning to the bartender. "Just a glass of water. I'll also need a room for the night and a space in the stable for my horse."

 

[blackopal19]

The band of raiders found the single guard, asleep, near the main gates of the stock corral. An arrow silenced him even before he woke. Several braves jumped off their mounts and slid between the rails to hand pick the best horses.

Namid was one of them. Her slim body easily fit between the sturdy rails. She counted five..six..7 good mares. She tied a simple braid of cloth around one good bucksin mare, signaling that one as hers for later. They were careful of their movements, taking care not to stir up the horses too much, at least for now.

Between the rails Namid could see that there was life stirring on the dusty streets of Tombstone, even at this late hour. There a few good horses tied outside of the buildings, but she wouldn't risk it. Not when there were many right infront of her.

One by one the gates were opened. Quietly. A few horses neighed, and a mule brayed his displeasure as a scout pushed him out of the corral. Then suddenly the entire herd of horses rushed out of the gate. The other scouts had let loose other horses in different pens.

In the maddening rush Namid jumped upon her horse before they were swept away. Their need for silence no more, the braves broke loose in loud war whoops, urging their mounts and the herd of horses into a frenzy.

Namid held onto her mount securely for the wild ride that would follow.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Kate woke up with a start, her heart pounding so loudly at first it was all she could hear. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she calmed herself down enough to take stock of her body. Mentally working her way from her feet to her neck, she felt her way up her body checking to make sure all was fine. Having determined that what had woken her so abruptly had nothing to do with her body, she opened her eyes and slowly turned her head checking out the room for any anomalies. The room was dark, although there was some shadowing from the moonlight streaming in her upstairs window, through the curtains that hung closed. The room was safe, she seemed to be okay, so what had woken her? Holding her breath she listened for a sound to come from the shop downstairs, was someone inside the shop? But all seemed quiet down there, thinking back to her dream she tried to determine if something had happened in the dream to shock her awake but her dream had been pretty bland, just people in some party or something, nothing that should have disturbed her.

Perhaps it was something out on the street. From the angle of the moonlight and the fact that she had gone to bed after three, the streets should be fairly quiet. Listening carefully, Kate couldn't hear anything from outside, yet something had to have woken her. Sighing about having to get out of the warm bed, she carefully slid from under the quilt and slid her feet into some slippers. Dragging the quilt with her for warmth, she pulled it around her nightgown clad body and shuffled to the window. Peering out at the saloon, she found the front lights dark as they should have been at this time of night. A low light could be seen shining through the saloon window meaning someone had an all night game going, but there didn't seem to be any ususual activity over there. Only a few horses were hitched in front of a few buildings, forgotten by their owners and left to stand in the cold for the night. Had it been a super cold morning, Kate might have gotten dressed and gone out and taken the horses to the stables, but it was late and if one of the townsmen happened to go by, they would at least undo the saddles on the horses to give them some ease.

Okay, whatever sound woke her up wasn't in the shop or her little apartment over the shop, and it wasn't coming from the saloon. Turning to look the other way down the street she couldn't see anything in that direction either. Wait! On the edge of town, she could see some movement. Kate watched intently, her curiousity urging her on, as she saw some horses moving away from the town stable at a fairly fast clip. In the dark all she could see was the shadows and movement, but that was enough to make her sigh with relief. Apparently some cowboys had made their way through town and all she had heard of their passing was some yelling or horses or something and that had woken her up.

Having solved her mystery, Kate shuffled back to bed, spread out the quilt and crawled back under it, yawning. Turning onto her side, she stretched then pulled her knees up, tugging the quilt up to keep her ears warm. Within moments she was fast asleep, the horses forgotten.

 

[PredatorX]

Nathan Crowe had said farewell to the men that had been his only friends for 6 years. He was a little sad that their journey together was over but also had hope. The closest town was Tombstone so he headed in that direction. In his saddlebag was more money than he ever had for himself. The only condition he made to his companions to keet the money was a promise that they will come and see him whenever they needed help.

With a smile on his lips he keep on riding towards Tombstone. As he comes closer he sees the dust from horses draw nearer. He holds in the rein of his own horse and looks at the dust that slowly transforms into horses. Many horses. They are coming to fast and he tries to calm down his gelding. There are no escape.

Despite his efforts to keep his horse under control, it panics and rears up. Dropping Nathan backwards to the ground. The impact is hard and he feels the blow to the back of his head. As he try to focus his mind he sees an indian on one of the horses and his last thought before darkness takes him is. "Oh crap."

 

[Screech]

James Sherman looked up at the newcommer who had perched himself at the bar, not three stools away from himself. He eyed the man closly. Dark skin, pulled back hair, wide brimmed hat....

No. James couldn't place him in any of the wanted posters he had seen, or indeed carried with him. Obviously not an outlaw. Good. That meant he wouldn't have to kill the man. Of course, most posters read 'dead or alive', but experience had told him that most criminals wouldn't give up and go to jail without a shootout first, which left the 'dead' part of the contract the only one to cash in on.

Taking his whiskey, he swivelled around on his bar stool, leaning back against the bar to observe the other patrons. His jacket fell open revealing a rather plain, yet quite well cared for white waistcoat, along with the glint of a gold star pinned to his breast. If any of these others were outlaws, the sight of the badge would undoubtedly unnerve them. Of course, also in plain view were his two Defender pistols, one with his hand resting apon it.

Some noises came from outside of the saloon. Something that sounded like thunder, but locked within the ground. Could well be a stampede, but by the sounds of it, it was moving away from the town, and so, he reasoned, was of no immediate danger.

Sipping his whiskey, James observed the poker game

 

[blackopal19]

The herd rushed maddenly past Tombstone. The braves wild whoops and cries only served to further spook and stir the horses. Namids mount was on the outside of the stampede, and she clung low against her horses mane, slowly helping to guide the herd out onto the hard desert plain where they could slow the herd, and then turn it to the west where they would take a rounded way back to camp through a complicated set of canyons. This would ensure that the camp's location was well hidden.

But just outside of Tombstone, no more than a couple miles the herd came upon a lone cowboy. Namid saw his mount rear and he was thrown into the wild sea of horseflesh. She pulled her mount to a halt, along with a couple other braves. The rest of the party had been swept away with the herd.

They argued amongst themselves. The cowboy wasn't taken in battle, so therefore his scalp was worthless. A well scarred brave spat on the motionless body and kicked his horse ino order to catch up with the rest. The other brave looked back towards Namid, before he too left to catch up.

Namid looked down upon the body. She had no need of white man things, so she left the body untouched. Instead she grasped the reigns of his mount and urged her own to catch up with the stampeding herd.

 

[PredatorX]

Nathan curses his bad luck as he lay down, listening to the indians chattering. The blow to the back of his head hurts like hell but he know better than letting them know he is awake and alive. He felt the spit hitting his face and barely controlled his desire to draw his Colt Peacemaker and make the brave regret the insult.

Knowing that he would have plenty arrows potruding from his body if he acted he just lay motionless. Finally they where riding away. Nathan cursed again when he saw the reign of his horse in the clasp of one of the braves. To his surprise it was a female that hold on to his horse. He took of his stetson as he saw them ride away from him. Taking all his belongings and money with them.

He wiped the dirt from his clothes with his stetson. Then he felt at the back of his head with his fingers. Looking at his fingers he saw no trace of blood. Something to be greatful for at least he thought. Placing the stetson on his head again he starts the walk towards Tombstone. The only belongings he had left was the clothes on his body and his Colt Peacemaker. Not a good start of his new life.

Finally in Tombstone he heads directly towards the saloon. Entering the place he cautiously eyes the area for lawmen. Seing none he walks over to the bar. His right hand never strays from his Colt. The habit of a seasoned gunfighter, despite his youth. His eyes observe the other men at the bar before he turns to the bartender.

"I was just robbed by indians just outside this town so i guess you own me an Whiskey."

 

[Mystical Avalon]

Danielle heard the commotion from outside her window as she slipped on a plain cotton shift. Indians. Opening the door to her room, she made her way down to the bar to drop off the house's part of her earnings tonight. She always returned part of her earnings. It kept a roof over her head and food in her stomach. As she approached the bar, she saw a handsome young man sitting just down from her. Her eyes gave him the quick once over. Very nice she thought, dark hair, bluegrey eyes. Handsome, trail worn.

She tossed the little silk purse onto the bar and spoke to the barkeep.

"Sadie, this is the house share. It was a good night" for the house she thought. Hoping to attract the attention of the young man, she ordered a drink and turned to see if there were any possible poker games she could join.

 

[blackopal19]

The band led the dwindling herd of horses through the maze like corridors of the desert canyons. They allowed the weaker and ill suited horses to fall back, pushing only the strongest onwards.

Namid kept a strong hand on the reigns of the white man's horse. Not only was the animal valuable, but the leather saddle and bridle would bring much in trade.

They slowed. The band was now just at a walk. Due to the intricate path they had chosen to wind their way back to the camp, they wouldn't get back untill almost dawn. Namid straightened on the bare back of her mount, just beaming with happiness. It had been a good night.

 

[IXIHawkeyeIXI]

He had heard the ruckus outside, but chose not to get involoved. Part of him wanted to get up and stop what was happening, but a larger part didn't care. No chance for him to make any money off of it, and he had really just gotten here. Instead, he sat down, relaxed in the salloon, and tossed back a few drinks. It had been quite some time since he had been able to get into a good card game, and he hoped to possibly make a little bit more money than he already had.

As he sat down, casually chatting with a few of the locals, his attention was caught by a yougn red-headed girl. A sly little smile came to his face as he watched her. She was obviously not interested in him, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the view. After a period of time, he got himself another drink and looked around at the various tables, trying to find a good card game.

 

[PredatorX]

Nathan quickly downed the whiskey the bartender had been nice enough to give him. His attention turned to a young redhaired woman coming down the stairs. As she approached the bar he saw that she gave him a quick glance. He tipped his hat at her and gave her a smile.

He looked at the silk purse she had dropped on the bar. It was soon picked up by the greedy bartender and stowed away.

Nathan had to think things through. He lost his money to the indians. He needed a horse, a rope and a rifle. He needed money to get his money back. He eyed the redhead again, wondering who she was. Obviously she worked here but did she do it as a prostitute or something else.

He smiles to her again. "Hello miss." He eyes the drink in her hand. "If the indians had not robbed me of all i own i would buy you a second drink." He tips his hat again to her.

 

[Screech]

James' eye caught the image of a beutiful redhead as she shasheyed down the saloon stairs and over to the bar, depositing a small amount of cash behind the bar. From his position he could clearly see her, and the man next to him as the man started up a conversation. Good thing too. James recognised the man as one Nathan Crowe - outlaw. At least, that's what the posters said. Wether he still was one was beside the point. The was money on this man's head, and, with luck, he'd come quietly and not have to get hanged. Of course, he'd have to play it cool.

Slapping $5 on the bar, he slid it over to Nathan, an ever so slightly sly grin on his face. "Here. Buy the gal a drink. Ya'll repay me later"

 

[Mystical Avalon]

The smile that traced the man's lips suddenly sprang an image in her head. This man was Nathan Crowe! He was an outlaw. She had seen the various posters around town. The poor drawings did nothing for his handsome ruggedness. Reaching over to the $5 laying on the bar, she quickly handed it to Nathan.

"No need to buy anything. It is on me. I dont mind" she smiled. Knowing that any conversation was likely as not to end her up in the sack with any of these men in the bar, she thought she would take her chances.

"Robbed huh? Is there anything that I can help you with besides drink Mr. umm, Mr. umm, well I cant offer you any help till I know who you are" smiling again, she motioned for the bartender.

"Drinks for me and my friend here" she said producing the $5.

 

[PredatorX]

Nathan looks at James with a smile that pretty much hides his suspicious mind. "Thank you." He tilts his hat to the stranger and looks back to the redhead. When she hands him the money the stranger offered he grins slightly at her. Quite surprised that she orders drinks for both of them he graciously accepts.

"Yes some indians stole my horse when i was on my way here. Just happened outside Tombstone." He keeps smiling. "I will pay you back once i get my money back." He says to both the girl and the stranger. "My name is Nathan." He offers his hand to the girl but keeps his eyes on the stranger who offered to pay for the drink. Not sure that the man´s offer was something else than to throw him of his guard.

 

[Mystical Avalon]

Taking the hand of the stranger she shook it twice.

"Nice to meet you Nathan, Danielle La Rue" she replied. Looking at the stranger with shielded eyes she asked "And who might you be?"

She liked the look of the stranger less and less. She was very used to the stares and gawkings of the men in town and some of those out and those from around. She did not however, like the looks the stranger was giving her.

"Well Mr. Nathan, seeing as you have nothing, you need not worry about paying me back. There have been times this gal would have been well pleased for the kindness of strangers" she tossed her drink back and slapped the glass on the bar. Turning to the barkeep, she spoke low.

"Watch the stranger. He is up to no good." she said.

"Mr. Nathan, if there is anything else you need by all means, I will be at the second room on the left top of the stairs." she said and walked slowly back to her room. Something about him seemed to touch her in ways she never thought. Something. But what that something was, she had yet to figure out.

 

[Screech]

James touched the brim of his hat as Danielle La Rue enquired about his name, after, he had noted, she had introduced herself to Mr Crowe. Damned if he was going to give his real name away instantly - Crowe would be out of the saloon like a shot, and he could say goodbye to $1000

"Adams. Samuel Adams, ma'am"

He always liked that alias. Always seemed a more likable name. Taking another sip from his whiskey, he reclined against the bar and watched La Rue, followed by Crowe dissappear up the staircase

 

[IXIHawkeyeIXI]

James touched the brim of his hat as Danielle La Rue enquired about his name, after, he had noted, she had introduced herself to Mr Crowe. Damned if he was going to give his real name away instantly - Crowe would be out of the saloon like a shot, and he could say goodbye to $1000

"Adams. Samuel Adams, ma'am"

He always liked that alias. Always seemed a more likable name. Taking another sip from his whiskey, he reclined against the bar and watched La Rue, followed by Crowe dissappear up the staircase

He moved his hat off of his eyes for a moment, observing the man who identified himself as Samuel. Allen had, of course, recognized Nathan from the wanted posters as well, but did not want to bring him in. Not yet anyways. He always preferred to get to know someone before turning them in for reward money. Moving closer to "Samuel", he decided to speak up.

"So Sammy boy, what brings you to a place like this? Iis it the townsfolk? The surroundings? Or just looking for a few people to lie your ass off to?"

Allen's left hand, the one away from "Samuel" was moving towards his gun, getting ready in case anything was to happen. One could never be to careful, especially in a case such as this.