Music by Morricone: A Stone and a Hard Place Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Loup Blanc

Chapter 3: Vengeance Ride


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Claire isn't able to find Wyatt on the premises, but she catches up with Doc Holliday during the socialization before the gambling begins in earnest. "Ah, Miss Callahan," he says, grinning widely and separating from the other gamblers around him. "Always glad to see a familiar and friendly face before a big game. What's on your mind?"

When she asks about Virgil's actions the night before and Doc's thoughts, the gambler takes a seat and regards her for a moment, clearly mulling over his thoughts. "Our eldest Earp is certainly an interesting man. I know Wyatt better myself, on a personal level at least, but I've spent enough time with Virgil and heard a few things about him. I can say this much, though. For all the stories about Wyatt being a legendary lawman, I find myself wondering from time to time if Virgil doesn't deserve even more of an epic himself. But I suppose anonymity might better serve his chosen profession." Doc gives Claire a short, pointed look, then claps his hands and smiles. "Well, I do believe the second day is about to begin. Tell your friend Samuel I wish him luck, won't you?"

Meanwhile, Eddy keeps watch and chats with some of the folks in the Grand. Most of the gossip revolves around the prior night's events, between talk of the fire--which apparently started from some condemned whiskey barrels in the hotel basement stores--and wildly embellished details of the assassin's death, with one story recounting how Virgil and Wyatt Earp ran straight through a block of houses and emptied their guns into the killer, leaving a trail of righteous destruction in their wake.

As the Bonanza's second day gets under way, it becomes clear that Doc's wish may well have had some effect. Samuel plays well through the whole event, and in the final hand he faces down Doc Holliday himself. When Samuel reveals his Royal Flush, Doc sucks the air in through his teeth and displays his own hand--itself a Royal Flush, but of a lower suit. The whole crowd gasps and then screams with delight and excitement, and Doc is the first to stand and bow to Sam. "You play a mighty mean hand of poker, son. I am happy to have lost to you."

Shortly thereafter a round of drinks is passed out, and the money follows soon after. Samuel is presented with a briefcase of bills to the amount of five-thousand dollars, as well as an exuberant handshake from Clyde Paxton, the tournament's head judge--who also takes the opportunity to slide a card into Sam's hand, one apparently identical to the card Lady Boyet gave him the night before. "Miss Boyet mentioned your discussion to me. Welcome to the Society, young man, assuming you're still interested."

Meanwhile, the guards are called to the front desk of the Grand, where the manager hands out their pay--folds of forty dollars. "Thank you for your service here, folks. We'll be sure to look you up if we need you again while you're in town."


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

Claire listens to Doc's thoughts without interrupting. "His chosen profession... I see. Wyatt gets all the attention after his showdowns in the Disputed Territories, but Virgil has some war stories of his own then. I've heard a few things but..." She frowns, her face pensive. "Best of luck to you too Doc. Knock a few chancers out of the games. It will be interesting to see you and Sam play in the final round."

She tips her hat and bids the entire group good day, heading out on to the floor to keep an eye on the tournament. Aside from one fist fight over an accusation of cheating, the day is thankfully quiet and soon she's watching the final game between Doc and Sam. "Jaysus, I didn't think they'd actually be the last two players..." She breaks out cheering when Sam wins, though she would have cheered no matter who won at this point.

She collects her pay with a nod of her head and tucks the bills safely away in her coat. "Thank ya' kindly."


Samuel gives Doc a wry smile, before he lets himself bask in the audience's cheering. After the festivities are over, he approaches the other gambler, a drink in both hands, before giving one to Doc. "You know, you're legendary even out in Boston; my father'd never believe I played a hand with Doc Holliday, much less that I won it. You play a mighty fine hand yourself, y'know," Samuel says, taking a long sip of his whiskey. "The West is so... different; Boston is, well, perhaps a bit less lawless, and certainly more sophisticated. I would never have expected... I helped put down a band of outlaws! It's crazy!" Samuel, clearly not a man who holds his liquor well, must have had at least a few drinks before this one. A bit drunk, he gives Doc a small grin. "Can you believe that? A city-slicker like me, getting all rough'n'tumble out here? It's nonsense, but it's true!"

Grand Lodge

Abilities:
Strength d8 (2) Agility d8 (2) Spirit d6 (1) Smarts d4 (0) Vigor d6 (1)
Stats:
Toughness: 5(6) Parry: 6 Pace: 4 Charisma: 0 Bennies: 2/3
Skills::
Fighting d12, Guts d8 (4), Gambling d4(1), Lockpicking d6(2), Shooting d8 (3), Smite d4 (0), Healing d4 (0)

Clapping his hands in approbation, Edward approached the rest of the group and proclamed "Twas a jolly competition, with daring chase and marvelous punching included. I must be honest, fellows, I could never have thought you americans would prove being so amusing. Come, let's share the Victor's Drink together, the three first rounds of beverages are on me!"


The excitement continues in the Grand well after the game is done; everyone present has just witnessed what is likely a once-in-a-lifetime final hand, after all, not to mention the fame of the man--now men--playing in it. Sam hears his name being spoken in energetic murmurs more than once, and the bartender grins as he hands a glass to the tournament's victor, free of charge.

Doc returns Sam's wry grin with his own lopsided smile, and graciously accepts the glass, quickly knocking back its contents. "Well, it certainly does a body good to hear that one's name is shared around. Nothing good attached to it, I hope." He chuckles and accepts a cigar offered to him by the woman you've come to know as his paramour, Kate. "I believe I know what you mean about changes. Would you believe I attended schooling for dentistry, of all professions, before coming out this way? Why, I'd probably be back in Georgia with my head halfway down some Congressman's jaws if it weren't for the turn of Fate." He laughs and begins to cough; Kate quickly brings a handkerchief to his mouth. He takes it and once his fit is over, he smiles broadly and stands. "My hats off to you and yours, Mister Samuel Warren, and I shall take you, sir"--he turns to Eddy--"up on that offer gladly. Let's have a toast to city-slickers getting rough and tumble, and to all the wonders and joys of life in this great country!"

- - - - -

Over the next few days, life in Tombstone marches on. The news of the Bonanza is quickly overtaken by other developments, not the least of which being a spectacle in the streets: the Cowboys and their families ride in a procession through town, horse and wagon, carting their dead to Boot Hill. Not only do they take a circuitous route through the city, making sure that one and all have plenty chance to see them pass, but they have large banners displayed at the front and back of the train, proclaiming that the dead were MURDERED IN THE STREETS OF TOMBSTONE. Virgil and Wyatt ask our heroes to stand deputy with them and watch, to make sure no trouble starts. The procession makes its way quietly and respectfully through town, but once the funerals are finished, the Cowboys gather on the edge of the city and let off a loud, long volley of gunfire before shouting and riding off. Virgil watches them go with an almost sad, tired look in his eye.

The papers in town take the opportunity to cover the event, having seemingly taken a few days to get things straight and decide their spin. The Tombstone Nugget has a scathing article blazoned on their front page, denouncing the Earps and their "gun-slinging, blood-thirsty, and no-good outsider mercenaries" for the act, complete with heartfelt and mournful accounts from Curly Bill Brocius and Ike Clanton. The posse might recall that Ike fled early on, and Curly Bill wasn't even present, but nobody seems to care, least of all the Nugget's editors.

The other paper in town, the Tombstone Epitaph, offers a much clearer and straightforward take. The events leading up to the showdown are summarized, stretching all the way back to the death of the old Marshal and prior circumstances, and the facts of the gunfight are laid out fairly plainly. It's easy to get the sense, reading the piece, that Virgil or Wyatt themselves might have been contacted for information. In any case, the Epitaph doesn't clearly take the side of our heroes, but it does offer the reasons behind their actions.

The biggest event for the posse comes perhaps a week after the original gunfight, when Virgil has them called to his office. "Alright, folks, I hate to ask a favor of you but it ain't just for me, it's for Wyatt and for the whole idea of the law here. The state's decided not to prosecute us for the shootout, partly because we were acting lawfully in the line of our duty, and partly because there just ain't no good witnesses to what happened. Hell, can you believe it, they're already saying it happened at the O.K.?" Virgil shakes his head and gestures to a copy of the Nugget with just such a statement in the headline of an article.

"Anyway, like I said, the state's not prosecuting, but apparently Ike Clanton is. He's got lawyers from Bayou Vermilion themselves to bring a civil suit against Wyatt. Guess it's my fool brother's fame to thank that it wasn't me. The hearing's tomorrow, and Wyatt's been told he can have witnesses of actions and character there as long as they aren't direct relations. That's me and Mattie out, and Judge Spicer doesn't like Doc, so he's not speaking either. You folks are the only others in town I'd trust to do this, putting yourselves forward for Wyatt and the law. I won't lie, this is likely to get the Cowboys hating for you bad, but I'm guessing they already are. Will you do it?" Virgil leans forward, his hands clasped on his desk. For the first time since you've met him, the old law dog seems genuinely concerned--his look is that of an elder sibling looking out for his troublesome kid brother, or a man who wants to be known as just and upright in the eyes of the law.


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

Claire is rather grateful for a few quiet days after their last chain of little misadventures. She spends most of her time at the Oriental, becoming a familiar sight at the bar with a cigar in her mouth and a small glass of whiskey being nursed for hours. She never joins in on one of the card games, but she has a tendency to spend her evenings chatting with Doc in a quiet corner, pouring over the secrets in his books and the details only preserved in the gambler's head.

She's in her usual place when the Tombstone Nugget comes around several days after the tournament. She reads the headline in silence, one eyebrow rising slowly as she skims the article on the scuffle at the O.K. Corral. She reads the Epitaph with equal silence. As she sets the second paper down, a grin suddenly splits her face and she breaks down in uproarious laughter. "I never thought I'd see the day when the f*cking Epitaph was the reasonable newspaper. Jaysus, this is the funniest thing I've seen in weeks!" She breaks down laughing again.

She's not actually all that surprised when Virgil calls them in. "Well, I'd be happy to testify on Wyatt's behalf. Hell, the Cowboys'll want us six feet under anyway once they realize we blew twelve of their arseh*le friends away on the way here. They're not going to hate us more for f*cking up their new plan in court."


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

Biff spends most of his time drinking and trying to solicit people for bar fights, to little success. Upon having the Nugget article read to him, he bristles.

"Blood-thirsty? Mercenaries? How dare they! We should thump them one to teach them a lesson!"

Assuming someone holds him back, he fumes, and when Virgil asks for his help, happily agrees.

"Since I've been told punching the newspaper reporters would be 'counter-productive', I guess this is the next best thing! We'll clear Wyatt's name, for sure!"


"Testify? I'd be happy to," Samuel says, clearly agitated at the news. "I don't know how much it will mean out here, but my family has quite a bit of clout out on the East Cost. I might be able to throw our weight around a bit and deal with this mess. If not, well... we'll deal with it some other way, I suppose." Samuel frowns, putting the paper down. "They really do have a lot of nerve, don't they?"

Grand Lodge

Abilities:
Strength d8 (2) Agility d8 (2) Spirit d6 (1) Smarts d4 (0) Vigor d6 (1)
Stats:
Toughness: 5(6) Parry: 6 Pace: 4 Charisma: 0 Bennies: 2/3
Skills::
Fighting d12, Guts d8 (4), Gambling d4(1), Lockpicking d6(2), Shooting d8 (3), Smite d4 (0), Healing d4 (0)

During the tranquil times, Eddy can be found training during the day and drinking during night. Well, training on a rooftop for everyone to see during the day, and loudily drinking and laughing during the night actually.

"I can't but agree with Biff, a good ol' thumping would show them... but it's Wyatt's honour what we are talking about." says Eddy while he adopts a meditative stance.

"I will of course testify to help your brother, Virgil. I swear it by my gentleman's honourm"


"My thanks to you, folks." Virgil nods and gestures to the door. "Go on and do what you like today, then. Just meet up here tomorrow morning, and we'll all walk over. Marshal escort and all to keep things safe."

The next morning, you do indeed meet outside Virgil's office, thankful for the warm sunrays as the day starts with a chill. Virgil isn't present at first, but Doc Holliday is sitting on the porch, smoking a cigar and looking as pleased and passive as ever. "Ah, our fine heroes of the hour, come to speak on Wyatt's behalf since old Spicer won't let a--what did he call me?--a syphilitic and misanthropic invalid like myself testify." He grins and takes a drag on the cigar. "Virgil's tied up in some busywork, so I figured I'd offer to escort you myself, as a fellow deputy and all." He absently brushes his coat lapel as he stands, displaying that he's for once wearing a badge. "Let's be off, shall we?"

The journey to the courthouse, a few blocks away, is almost uneventful, but as the posse comes around the corner to the final street, they come face to face with a pair of unsavory characters: Curly Bill Brocius and Johnny Ringo. Curly Bill flashes a wide smile, his white teeth visible under his thick mustache; Johnny Ringo stares, expressionless, directly at Doc. "Howdy, folks," Curly Bill says, still grinning. "You off for a day at court? Hope you don't make too much trouble for poor old Ike."

Doc smiles back and taps his badge. "I'm sure you can see we are on official business, gentlemen. And Ike's trouble could have ended with your other boys, if he weren't such a yellow-bellied spring chick. Now, would you please step aside?" Curly Bill gives another smile--this one decidedly less friendly--and steps into the street, his hands up with palms out. Johnny Ringo, however, continues to stare at Doc, who returns his gaze with level, dangerous eyes. "Why, Johnny Ringo. A man almost forgets how much he loathes you 'til you cross paths once again. While I'm certain you've got a knife or maybe even a revolver hidden somewhere on your person, unless you'd like to draw it and start a scene right here, right now, in front of the court in plain view--well, how about you let us just pass on by?"

It's a tense moment, but after what may be some silent battle of wills between the two men, Johnny Ringo steps to stand beside Curly Bill, who pats him on the shoulder. Without another word to the pair, Doc walks on.

If you guys want to respond to this situation at all, go ahead, but I'll take us directly to the main court scene.

At the courthouse, Doc leaves our heroes at the door, commenting that he's off to the Oriental to wash a bad taste out of his mouth, and that the court staff will see to them from there. Inside, it seems the hearing's just beginning, and the posse heads in to the audience to wait before they speak. The proceedings are basic and unsurprising: Ike is in the middle of a sob story retelling of events, bewailing the injustice brought about and the costs forced upon himself and his family. A couple other Cowboys, none of particular note, add to his description. Judge Spicer is clearly doubtful throughout, and quickly moves to Wyatt's side when the time comes. "If the defendant's witnesses are ready to speak, they can come up once at a time and say their piece."

You guys are up. Each of you, please post what you say, either in-character or summarized with some details, although I'll be treating this somewhat like an Interlude, so if you write out a speech of some kind you get an extra Benny. Also, roll Persuasion, but don't worry about rerolling if it isn't great.


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

"Well, I haven't known Wyatt very long, but he's already one of my favorite people! He speaks his mind, he's got almost as good a sense of honor as an Englishman, and he isn't afraid to thump some sense sense into the heads of hooligans when they need it!"

"If that isn't the picture of a lawbringer, I don't know what is."

Persuasion: 1d6 ⇒ 1
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

On the way to the courthouse, Claire returns Ringo's smile with an air of innocence that anyone who's spoken to her for five minutes can instantly tell is fake. "Now why on earth would we want to do something like that?" she asks, her voice a breathy exaggeration of how a lady is expected to speak. "Surely you can't be suggestin' that we might have some reason to want to see an honest an' upstanding man like Ike Clanton make a fool of himself in open court." With that she blows him off and follows Doc off to the courthouse.

Claire fights the urge to chuckle at Ike's caterwauling. "He's makin' a right fool of himself all without anyone else's help." She's more than happy to let Biff speak his piece first, watching the judge's face to try to get a feel for the room. Once he's done, she steps up. "I'm a simple woman your honor, so I'll speak plainly. I ain't known Wyatt Earp long. Not in person at least. But I doubt there's a man or woman in the west who hasn't heard his name. Meeting him in person was something I thought I'd only dream about. And I'll admit, I was surprised by what I saw." She takes a breath. "Wyatt Earp is short tempered, hard headed, vicious when you cross him, and god d*mned tired of it all. The look I see in his eyes, well it reminds me of my father, your honor. Tired, like he's seen it all so many times that he's not even bothered anymore. The kind of man who'd be perfectly happy to hang up his gun and retire. But he can't. Because when he sees somethin' wrong, someone innocent in danger, he can't stand by, no matter how much he wants to. He wouldn't go starting a fight with someone, but if he sees some chancer about to do somethin' foolish..." She pauses and stares pointedly at Ike. "Then he'll do what's necessary to keep the peace and keep people safe."

Persuasion: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Wild: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 5 Total: 13, suck it Ike
Ace #2: 1d6 ⇒ 2


Samuel seems fairly collected as they head to the courthouse and doesn't say much, but you can see his face sour as the two Cowboys take note of the posse heading inside. Still, he doesn't do much other than begin to absentmindedly shuffle a few loose cards from an old, incomplete deck in between his fingers... until Johnny Ringo and Doc have their little stare-down. In an act of uncharacteristic aggression, the young man flicks the three cards from his hand towards Johnny's head; two soar just past with just barely a crackle of green lightning, but the last strikes the man's hat off his head and leaves it pinned to a support beam. Samuel walks by them as Curly Bill leads his fellow away, feeling oddly accomplished.

-----

Samuel stands up in court, every bit the image of an Eastern gentleman; he's worn his nice coat today despite the heat along with his finer clothes. "Your Honor, I've not been here in Tombstone for very long. I'm a Boston man, myself, as I'm sure my accent shows; I was only here for a gambling tournament along with settling some of my late father's property outside of town. Before we even arrived here in town, I'd had a run-in with some of Ike Clanton's gang when they tried to ransack the train myself and my fellows were riding in on. Not long after we arrived, meeting the defendant along with some of his family at the Oriental, we had another run-in with them that ended in a brawl after one of them threw a punch." Samuel pauses, straightening his coat, before continuing on with his testimony. He coughs once, trying to think of the best way to make sure the judge would be paying attention when me mentioned his family. "Now, we Warrens have never been fighters, but I did what I could to keep myself and my new companions safe. But at the O.K Corral, well... they were armed and dangerous, Your Honor. We'd been deputized by Virgil, and..."

Samuel pauses for a second, now unsure of himself. "I learned to shoot from my father, but I'd only ever shot at clay pigeons. That gunfight, it was... it was a bloodbath, Your Honor. When the shooting stopped, two dozen men were dead on the ground by our hands. The whole thing is, I must admit, something of a blur. But I remember one thing very clearly; Wyatt wasn't the first to draw his gun. That honor, if you could call it that, belongs to one of the twenty-four men that met God that day." As he speaks, Samuel seems almost surprised at what comes out of his mouth, but he hides his emotions well. "Ike Clanton, and the rest of his lot, are ruffians and scum. They may be employed by Bayou Vermillion, but... but the Baron doesn't own this town, and I trust you're a good enough man to see that. I know that Bayou Vermillion brings a lot to this town, and you're all loathe to cross the Cowboys for fear of reprisal, but they're not the only folks with money nor an eye for business. Whatever your decision, Your Honor, know that the good people of Tombstone won't starve because you crossed a man that deserved to be crossed."

After a second or two of silence, Samuel shakes his head slightly. "Thank you, Your Honor." With that, he steps away from the podium and rejoins the others.

Persuasion: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Wild: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3


Alright, cool beans, guys. Extra Benny to each of you, Eddy can get one if he posts his speech later on. Also, because I forgot to say earlier, we have hit a new "scene" if you didn't guess, so your Bennies reset to full (+1 for this). Also, 2 XP to each of you, which should bring everyone up to 10 total and an Advance. Let me know what you pick in Discussion.

Judge Spicer looks on each of the speakers in turn, nodding along and generally looking more appreciative of some genuine talk for a change. Wyatt looks proud enough of folks sticking up for him, and lets out a short chuckle at Claire's commentary on his faults. Ike, for his part, looks sour throughout, and when Judge Spicer thanks the posse for their time, he spits on the courtroom floor. You hear Judge Spicer holding him in contempt as you make your way out of the hall.

The very next day the results of the hearing are announced. Judge Spicer not only exonerates Wyatt and his companions, he also holds on his contempt of Ike Clanton, and declares publicly that actual evidence of some kind ought to be necessary in order to bring a case before his court. Although he hasn't out and said it, it's clear that the good Judge is sick of the Cowboys' shenanigans.

Those shenanigans continue, though, as displayed by the news over the next few days: several coaches and riders are robbed quite nearby town, and all reports point to the Cowboys as the culprits. Virgil stews over his "lack of jurisdiction," made very clear by Ike's Bayou Vermilion lawyer. "After all, you're the Town Marshal in Tombstone, and a Deputy U.S. Marshal. If it's a town matter, or a federal matter, I suppose you could involve yourself, but if it's a county matter, that's up to Sheriff Behan." Sheriff Behan, who seems content to set up "concerned citizens' brigades" and take time out of his "busy" schedule to "have a talk" with the Cowboys at Ike's Place--where all goings-on are shielded from the public eye, not least by Bayou Vermilion thugs.

In the most daring crime, which takes place a few days after the hearing, a group of Cowboys rob an armored payroll stage about 10 miles out from the city--according to the only man of the stage who lived long enough to give his dying proclamation to a rider who happened along. Virgil readies to finally act, since such a large theft of a payroll constitutes a federal crime, but the BV lawyer is on scene again: "If there's no real witness, we can't be sure of the criminals, now can we?" After a little more talk, Virgil is forced to admit that he can't very well arrest the Cowboys based only on this, especially since he doesn't know who actually robbed the stage--but he can very well throw the lawyer out into the street, which he does with more gusto than he's shown since the gunfight.

- -CHAPTER THREE: VENGEANCE RIDE- -

On November 12th, 1881, our heroes are gathered in the Oriental Saloon in the late morning. Some may be enjoying a light repast, or perhaps an early whiskey, when there's a clatter outside, and the batwing doors burst inward. A man has just arrived, dressed in the obvious uniform of a Wells Fargo messenger. He's out of breath, wild-eyed, and has blood sprayed on his shirt, although he's clearly not wounded himself. "Wyatt Earp!" he cries, his voice panicky and high. "Marshal! Are the Earps in here?"

Ned Boyle steps out from behind the bar, clearly disturbed. "Whoa, there, Newt. They ain't here, but those folks are their deputies." He looks the new arrival up and down and his eyes widen. "What's the trouble? What's happened?"

Newt continues to draw shaky, ragged breaths, and he grabs his hat and brings it to his chest, clutching and releasing. He turns to face the posse, his face covered in sweat and twisted in agony, but his gaze drops. "I... They... They done killed Morgan Earp."


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

Claire feels a little smug when Judge Spicer tells Ike Clanton off. "Told you he'd make a fool of himself all by himself," she says with a small, cocky smile. Unfortunately, the Cowboy's reaction over the next few days is just as predictable. Behan's obvious double dealing makes her want to beat the fool within an inch of his life, but she refrains from starting something that would make her or the Earps look bad right now.

When the twelfth rolls around, she's sitting at the bar in the Oriental, like many mornings, have a smoke and reading the newspaper. Then the posse's normally relaxing morning is interrupted by the arrival of the blood covered young man. "What the f*ck?" she mutters most eloquently. The color slowly drains from her face as the man begins to talk. "Oh hell... what happened out there?"

Grand Lodge

Abilities:
Strength d8 (2) Agility d8 (2) Spirit d6 (1) Smarts d4 (0) Vigor d6 (1)
Stats:
Toughness: 5(6) Parry: 6 Pace: 4 Charisma: 0 Bennies: 2/3
Skills::
Fighting d12, Guts d8 (4), Gambling d4(1), Lockpicking d6(2), Shooting d8 (3), Smite d4 (0), Healing d4 (0)

______During the Trial which sadly isn't a Trial by combat

A sharply dressed Eddy walks into his spot, complete with his bowler hat.

He glares at the audience, winks at a random redhead lady, and finally looks to the judge with a big smile.

"Your Honor, Edward Milford McAllister Stockton is here to serve ye and the town of Tombstone too. I didn't have the jolly pleasure to know that fine chap named Wyatt Earp until recently, but since the moment qe met I sensed the greatness in him. You see, your Honor, as my companions have already explained we were travelling by train when Ike Clanton and his band of lamey bandits attacked us. I swear to God and The Queen I punched not less than three of them hard enough to absolve them of their sins instantly, but that grumpy Ike didn't learn the lesson, no sir."
At this point, Eddy is walking around the space in front of the judge, accompanying his tale with moves and sounds, and even a couple mighty squats.
"When we finally arrived to your merry town, the Earps greeted us and as any and all rightful citizen should do with the autorithies we told them the truth of what happened. Wyatt and co felt like we could do some good around, and offered to deputize us all. And it wasn't until long when Clanton and his evil-doers came around for more."
The british proceeds to regale the present with the barbrawl tale as well as how the Cowboys started the O.K. Corral incident, with comments about Wyatt's splendid stoicism and aim, as well as how he indeed charged brought a couple fists to a firefight.
Eddy ends the tale with a sublime posse and a final statement.
"And that, your Honor, is why I not only think Wyatt earp is free of all guilt but I also believe he could be a damned mighty fisticuffer if he flexes and squats just a tiny little bit. The only sin that was commited during all of this, was not punching Ike Clanton righteously in his bandit face."

No point on rolling now, but I wanted to Eddy myself out of this.

_____Present...

After the bomb is dropped, Eddy springs forward and grabs the messenger's hands.
With a manly tear being shed, and still his hands between his, Eddy drops to his knees.
"A brave man hath dieth! And we shall avenge his death! What ho! Which villain dared to it? Who shall find my fury and vengeance?"


Eddy and Claire react to the news with mixed eloquence, while Sam and Biff are simply stunned silent by the declaration. Newt looks positively green and quite distressed by Eddy's actions, and his breath hitches as he tries to stammer out a response. "I... He... And... Aw, hell, f-f-folks, you'd better just t-take a look yourselves..." With that, he removes his hands from Eddy's and staggers back outside.

In the street before the Oriental, the Wells Fargo armored stage is parked, the horse team sweaty and panting in the fierce sun, unseasonably hot this morning. A crowd has already begun to gather around, the women further back than the men, and it's easy to see why. Morgan Earp's pale, lifeless body is sprawled upon the driver's box, his face and chest soaked with deep red blood. There's a single bullet hole in the lapel of his coat, close to his heart, and another just between his eyes. His mouth hangs open in an expression of horror, as though screaming at something that only Morgan sees.

Healing:
With a cursory examination, the worst is confirmed: Morgan Earp is stone dead. The only injuries he seems to have suffered are the obvious bullet holes, but those do seem more than sufficient to kill a man, especially considering they passed all the way through--there isn't much left of the back of Morgan's skull or ribcage.

Notice:
A brief search of the body and wagon suggests that this wasn't a robbery shootup--everything's here. Morgan's pistol is still in his holster, and the coach gun is limply clutched in one hand. The only thing that seems to be missing is his deputy's badge. Particularly keen eyes and memories (Raise on the Notice test) note that the bullet in his lapel is the exact spot where Morgan wore the badge, but anyone can put two and two together to recall a similar corpse they encountered not long ago.

"P-please," Newt simpers as the posse takes in the scene. "You just gotta get the Earps down here. I'd wanna tell them what happened."

Finding Virgil and Wyatt won't be hard, but might take a little time, either going out yourselves or getting someone else to do it. Newt will need a Persuasion or Intimidation roll to get him to open up without them present.


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

"F*cking b*stards! Claire shouts as she looks over Morgan's body. "This was a f*cking hit! There's nothin' missing save for his god d*mn badge..." She trails off as her eyes widen slightly. "Just like the Ranger. Oh hell, we might have a professional killer runnin' round these parts. He was killed the exact same way." She points to one of the bullet holes. "Look here. He was shot clean through his badge. It takes a chancer with bloody good aim to make a shot like that. Someone go find Wyatt and Virgil! Now!"

Rolls:
Notice: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Benny
Notice: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Wild Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 5 Total: 11


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

Notice: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

Biff seethes.

"They've gone too far! I knew we should have crushed the bastards while we had the chance. But it won't slip us by again! We will avenge him!" Biff cries, dramatically.

"But his brothers will want first crack at them, I say! Let's be off!" he says,and runs off to find Virgil and Wyatt, with no particular plan as to how.


Biff runs off to find the Earps, and given the exclamations of the group, Newt does little more than break down sobbing. Biff makes for Virgil's office directly, where he finds the elder Earp writing something. Presumably telling him the base of the news, Biff sees Virgil stiffen, look up alarmed and shocked, and then hurriedly throw on his coat and gun and join the Brit in a hurried trip back to the Oriental. It seems Virgil can't totally believe the news until he sees it with his own eyes--but when he does, they brim with tears and he wordlessly looks to Newt.

The driver sobs again, then catches his breath and squeezes his hat before speaking. "We was... we was about six hours out from Tucson, the road 'tween Mescal and B-Benson town. I come around a bend and had to pull up right quick, cause... cause they'd rolled a big ol' boulder onto the road. Morgan had the coach gun ready, he was, was always ready for trouble.

"That's when he come a-walkin' up toward us. Casual as all get-out, shadowy from the sun over his shoulder. He was tall, lanky, too thin I thought to be living. I couldn't see his face none, but his laugh... God, it came right out o' Hell. I'll never forget his laugh.

"He drew down on Morgan. Morgan gave him both barrels dead-on... I coulda swore it was dead on. But that fella musta been faster. He shot twice, real quick, and Morgan... M-M-Morgan dropped dead.

"I thought for sure I was a goner. I begged, I begged him not to kill me, I did." Newt hangs his head, clearly ashamed of his inaction. "I put my head down and prayed to him and to God. But I didn't hear nothing, and when I looked up again, he was gone. He didn't even rob us. But he killed Morgan... and he wore the red sash." Newt looks up again, tears in his eyes. "He defini--oh, God, Wyatt! My God, Wyatt--they done killed him!"

The posse turns to see Wyatt Earp, just arrived, and his face shocked. Then the legendary lawman opens his mouth and howls, the sound of all the pain and sorrow and impotent rage in the West. He leaps to Morgan's side and nearly collapses on the corpse, while Virgil only stands, his jaw held tight and his eyes blinking back tears. The crowd starts to press in... but only for a moment, when they recoil in shock and fear as Wyatt stands on the coach bench. In his hand is Morgan's pistol.

"He wore the red sash!" Wyatt screams, his face red, his cheeks wet with tears, and his eyes wild. "The man who killed my brother wore the RED SASH!" Then his eyes narrow, and our heroes follow his gaze to the source of his sudden quiet: a cluster of Cowboys, each wearing a red scarf, kerchief, or other such display. With another wounded howl, Wyatt raises his pistol and pulls the trigger. A spray of blood and gore comes as a man's chest explodes, and screams from the crowd are close behind.

Combat has started, and Eddy is up first, with Wyatt close behind. I'll save Wyatt's first in-round action until Eddy goes, because Wyatt is openly firing on men who have yet to draw arms, so it's up to you guys what you want to do here.

Rolls and Draws:
Wyatt Shooting: 1d8 ⇒ 6 1d6 ⇒ 3 Damage: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 6) + 1 = 9 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6 Tarnation: 1d6 ⇒ 5
INITIATIVE
Biff--3 Diamonds
Claire--2 Diamonds
Eddy--Ace Hearts
Sam--King Hearts
Wyatt--Ace Clubs Queen Hearts Jack Clubs (Improved Level-Headed)
Virgil--10 Clubs 8 Spades (Level-Headed)
Cowoys--10 Diamonds

Grand Lodge

Abilities:
Strength d8 (2) Agility d8 (2) Spirit d6 (1) Smarts d4 (0) Vigor d6 (1)
Stats:
Toughness: 5(6) Parry: 6 Pace: 4 Charisma: 0 Bennies: 2/3
Skills::
Fighting d12, Guts d8 (4), Gambling d4(1), Lockpicking d6(2), Shooting d8 (3), Smite d4 (0), Healing d4 (0)

Eddy's honed reflexes during his time in the Royal Army make him turn just in time to see the blood and gore rain.

Memories of barrages from naval cannons kick his mind into ovderdrive, and out of a paradoxically mixed state of zen equilibrium and rage from Morgan's death, the brit starts running.

His eyes look for Ike or the strange fellows he saw long time ago chilling in an alley.
Failing that he runs straight to the middle of the Cowboys, looking to breach their formation and lay some righteous smacking.

"YOU MURDEROUS SCOUNDRELS! DAMNED BE YOU AAAALL"

Mechanics:

I am uncertain about our relative distance... can Eddy reach them by simply moving? Can he if he runs? Is he too far away anyway.
I will roll as if he needs to run and can hit afterwards, but correct me if necessary.

Running: 1d6 ⇒ 3
Wild Fighting: 1d12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (11) - 2 + 2 = 111d6 ⇒ 4
Wild Damage: 1d4 + 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + (5) + 2 = 10


You're all within easy moving distance of the Cowboys, since the crowd was somewhat tightly gathered around, but the townsfolk have started to run since Wyatt pulled the gun. So yeah, you jump over and hit one, with a Raise, too--not that it matters.

In the wake of Wyatt's shot, Eddy is the first to react, and he springs into action--toward the Cowboys. With a mighty holler, he clobbers one of their boys near the center of the group, driving them apart as his target collapses to the ground, coughing up blood. None of the big-namers are here right now, just regular members of the gang.

Barely after Eddy's strike, Wyatt aims and fires again, shooting at another of the red-sashed men. Again, a fountain of blood erupts as a man is blown away through the heart, and Wyatt only turns his gun to the next Cowboy in line.
Wyatt's Shooting: 1d8 ⇒ 61d6 ⇒ 4 Damage: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (6, 6) + 1 = 13

Samuel's up, then it's back to NPCs.


I'm assuming we could have grabbed our guns beforehand? We did hear that Morgan was dead, after all.

As Wyatt bristles with rage, Samuel looks once towards the lawman, and then his eyes narrow. "I..." he mutters, his rifle slowly raises to his shoulder. "You no good, rotten sons of b*tches," he says slowly, a strange look of rage on his face. "You're not gettin' away with this. Not this time." After a moment's hesitation, Samuel aims and fires for one of their chests and blows him away, a massive hole appearing in his chest as he falls backwards, dead in the dirt.

Shooting: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Shooting: 1d8 ⇒ 5
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Damage: 2d8 ⇒ (7, 8) = 15
Damage; Ace: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Total of 17.


Samuel brings up his rifle after a short pause, and his shot blows away another of the red-sashed men. At this point the crowd is frenzied and rapidly dissipating. The Cowboys themselves seemed shocked at the sudden violence, and two simply turn tail and begin to flee, running down the street and shouting bloody murder. The other two decide to fight for their lives, and draw knives and move to attack Eddy. The skilled Brit, however, knows how to face knives with his fists, and he dodges one attack while knocking the other aside with his forearm.

Virgil stands stock still, rooted in place, his hand on the butt of his pistol but not drawing. He looks torn, unsure of himself and his brother, and doesn't seem able to make himself act just yet.

Biff and Claire are up, and after them comes the new round, with the Cowboys kicking it off (if they're alive).

Rolls and Draws:
Cowboy Spirit: 4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 4, 6) = 14
Cowboy Wild Fighting: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 4) = 9
Virgil Spirit: 1d8 ⇒ 21d6 ⇒ 2
INITIATIVE
Biff--9 Diamonds
Claire--9 Clubs
Eddy--8 Clubs
Sam--8 Diamonds
Wyatt--7 Spades 7 Diamonds 6 Diamonds
Virgil--5 Diamonds 6 Hearts
Cowboys--King Clubs


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

Claire is stunned for a moment as Wyatt draws on the Cowboys, then she growls and pulls her revolver. "You motherless f*ckers..." She aims and opens fire on the fleeing Cowboys. "You think you can run!? You think we'll let you get away with this!"

Shooting: 1d8 ⇒ 7
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Damage: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (6, 6) + 1 = 13 Aces: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7 Total: 20


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

"You dare show your face here after what you've done!?!?" Biff shouts, and runs for the nearest cluster of living Cowboys. He lays about him with fists, using half-remembered lessons in Wing Chun.

Fighting: 1d8 ⇒ 8
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Fighting 2: 1d8 ⇒ 5
Wild 2: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Ace Fighting 1!: 1d8 ⇒ 7

Damage Fist 1 + Raise: 1d8 + 1d4 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + (4) + (3) = 14

Damage Fist 2: 1d8 + 1d4 ⇒ (7) + (3) = 10


Pretty much as expected.

Claire draws her pistol and aims at one of the fleeing Cowboys. With a trained eye and steady hand, she pulls the trigger, and a man stands stock still for a moment before falling face-down in the dirt. Biff, meanwhile, charges into the fray alongside Eddy, and his furious fists put down the two Cowboys with knives, knocking them senseless and bloodied to the ground. Combat over.

The last Cowboy runs off in the distance down the street, and ducks into an alley to disappear from the posse's view. As the gunsmoke begins to clear away, Wyatt Earp takes a pair of staggering steps after the man, then raises his hands over his head in rage. "You run! You tell all those god-d*mned sonsab*tches the Cowboys are FINISHED in this town, you hear me! DAMN Bayou Vermilion and DAMN you! You tell Ike Clanton! You tell all of them! Your time is up, I see a Cowboy, I KILL him, you hear me?!" Wyatt tries to repeat his last words, but his voice breaks and he falls quiet, choking back sobs as his whole body shakes in anguish and hate.

Virgil finally seems to come to as Wyatt breaks, and he moves to embrace his younger brother. He holds Wyatt tight and turns his eyes to regard our heroes. "I think we'd better head back inside. We've got some things to discuss."

- - - - -

Inside the Oriental, discussion comes after a short period for drinking and solemn silence. As the stage is taken away so Morgan can be prepared for burial, Ned cracks open his finest old stock and a wordless toast is given to the honor of Morgan Earp. The mood is somber and anxious, and the silence lasts as no one's sure what to say until there's a loud cough from the doorway. The owner of that cough is Doc Holliday, pallid and sweaty, with his coat pulled about him and a sour look on his face. "Well," he begins, "I should first like a stiff drink in memory of Morgan Earp, a fine young man cut down too young in life--and I should secondly like to know why in Hell we are sitting around when there is a reckoning due."

Virgil and Wyatt look at Doc for a moment, mouths agape, and then Wyatt stands to embrace his old friend. Virgil nods and sets his glass on the table. "Way I figure, I'm resigning as Town Marshal," he says. "And the three of us--Wyatt, Doc, and me--we'll ride out and clear the countryside around Tombstone of the Cowboys and their ilk. I'll need to set some things in order at the office, but after that we'll ride."

The old lawman turns to our heroes. "That leaves Ike's Place over on Tough-Nut and Fourth, though. I need you to clear it out, arrest the Cowboys there. If they don't come real friendly-like, you kill 'em. If any of 'em are loitering around town, you track them down and you kill them, too. We'll handle any who run off. Tomorrow, you ride out to the San Pedro and head south. Meet us outside the Clanton Ranch, it's some five miles south of Charleston, along the river. Any Cowboys left after we have our way are gonna be holed up in that viper's nest. And when you arrive... we'll finish this."


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

"Doc's got the right of it," Claire declares as she holsters her six-shooter. "A hard whiskey and a toast to Morgan Earp, cut down by the villainous scum that have plagued this town for too long."

"I'm afraid that the Cowboys may not be comin' quietly after everythin' that's happened recently," Claire says. "There's gonna be a few more bodies for Boot Hill when I'm done with 'em."


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

Could've sworn I wrote this post.

Biff downs a double shot and gives his own toast.

"To Morgan Earp, a good man tragically cu down in his prime! And to revenge, the noblest of activities!" he roars.


Sorry for the delay, everyone--it's been partly the first week of classes, partly coming down with something, and partly waiting to see if Sam or Eddy wanted to post.

The Earps and Doc nod at Claire's statements and Biff's toast, and when it seems all are agreed for the plan, Virgil steps up to the bar. "Well, Ned," he says, his voice cold and low, "guess you'd better give everyone their guns back. And that's all of them."

Ned gives Virgil a surprised look, but after a moment he begins laying the posse's weapons back on the bar, handing them over so everyone has full access to their equipment. "You've got the right of it, Miss Callahan," Virgil says, handing a rifle to Wyatt. "The Cowboys aren't likely to give up peaceful-like. You folks watch yourselves, it's likely to be some trouble when you get to Ike's. Play it smart, stay in cover, take your time, and you oughtta be fine."

When everyone's loaded up, Virgil, Wyatt, and Doc look at each other, then tip their hats to our heroes and head outside. In front of the Oriental these magnificent seven stand together for a moment, and then they split off on their separate ways.

- - - - -

The posse approaches Ike's Place slowly, and they pause a good ways off when they see the most obvious development. It looks like the Cowboys here knew the law would come gunning, and they've taken action to prepare. The building, which is set off from the lots around it, has a wagon and other stuff barricaded around its front doors. Although there aren't any visible folks in the windows or on the second-story balcony, that isn't exactly of comfort.

Let me know how you guys want to approach this, as there are a few options and there are many ways this can go down. The building is mostly square-shaped, set off from any other building by a good fifty feet, and the front entrance has a good look down the street. It's two stories with a balcony over the entrance, which is currently barricaded.


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

Claire lights up as she watches the building from a safe distance. She taps the ash off her cigarette before she speaks. "I say we head back to the Oriental, grab half a dozen bottles of cheap whiskey and some rags, then come back and give these f*ckers one chance to surrender. When they inevitably don't, we put the fire bombs through the windows and burn 'em out. We can pick them off or arrest them when they start jumping out windows like lemmings."


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

How much effort would it take to punch through the barricade, you think?

"No! They must know the powerful avengers that come for them and face them in man to man combat!"


Wounds: 0/3 | Bennies: 4/3 | Parry: 5 | Charisma: +2 | Grit: 1 | Pace: 6 | Power Points: 10/10

"You can face them in man to man combat as soon as they run from the burning building like the cowards they are."

Grand Lodge

Abilities:
Strength d8 (2) Agility d8 (2) Spirit d6 (1) Smarts d4 (0) Vigor d6 (1)
Stats:
Toughness: 5(6) Parry: 6 Pace: 4 Charisma: 0 Bennies: 2/3
Skills::
Fighting d12, Guts d8 (4), Gambling d4(1), Lockpicking d6(2), Shooting d8 (3), Smite d4 (0), Healing d4 (0)

Eddy, knowing what Biff's may be thinking, can but simply nod. "I wholehearthily agree with my brother in quite literal arms. But our beautiful gunslinger have raised a valid point: they are cowards who will cowardly run like all cowards do. And I shall not take my utmost effort in showing the might of kung fu to those undeserving of it."

"A slight wallop, coupled with a half-hearted punch, yes indeed. But a mystical showdown? No, sir. Not in the slightest. I say we go with the fire bombs."


Parry: 6, Toughness: 7|Bennies: 4/3|Wounds: 0|Pace: 5| Notice d4-2| Power Points: 20/20| XP: 10

Think we're waiting for you on this one Loup.

Biff pouts, but acquiesces.

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