Doc waves off the whiskey. "I abhor spirits, they make a man less than human. And thanks to doppelgangers, we've had more than enough of that lately."
He nods at Ben's comment about the Sheriff, and when the diary is mentioned he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to Bluefeather.
Loveless manages to hold his tongue when Ben prompts for a reward, but fails to abort an involuntary eye roll.
Pleased that the girl is being looked over by someone other than herself, Mal downs her whiskey, and reaches over and downs Doc's as well. "Ain't like I have to worry." She says with a grin, happy to be above ground and alive and able to tease Doc for his choice of words.
Despite Ben's selfishness, Mal had to admit that he had a knack for telling the story, making them sound a mite more heroic than they may have been, that's for true.
She continued to drink while he told their story, wondering just how many adventures she really had left in her.
The Deputy looks astonished and then sighs. She pours herself another shot before speaking.
"Well, Lucy's safe and no one is getting poisoned again. And that's all for the better. I'll be needing that journal, so I can can go through it, seeing as I'm the Senior Deputy. This is all a right mess."
She deliberately turns her shot glass over on its lip, but indicates that you all can help yourselves to anymore.
"Still, I'm grateful. Thank you for your help. I mean that."
"As for reward -- well, I'll take a look at the corpses before Old Walther can put them to pine and check to see if they have any bounties. If'n they do -- well, it's yours. I'll make sure of that. Anything else, you'll need to talk to the Mayor. He'll be riding in on the Rails in four days. Would've been here yesterday - but there's been a bit of a to-do with the Rails the past few days - And I'm hear'n ya'll might know a little something about that."
"In the meanwhile, please stay a few days. I'll be happy to personally foot your bill here at the Inn while the Mayor gets in."
Bukaru adds "I can confirm the essence of Ben's story. I would like to talk to the judge of this town about McCady's role in what happened to the town - it appears that the shape-changing creature actually did the poisoning, and merely enforced the doctor's silence by kidnapping his daughter. Surely that should be considered in determining his fate?
In addition, there is a large amount of machinery in those tunnels that someone ought to look at, to ensure that it cannot be used to harm the town."
Dust was part of life in the Big Drop. You traveled by any means other than the Rails, and you got used to it. This man was clearly used to travelling. That's why the long leather coat he wore was called a 'duster.'
He sat the saddle as though he was used to being there, though one could also tell that he would appreciate getting out of it for a spell, as his horse plodded up to the doors of the stable behind the saloon in Dry City. He dismounted easily, despite the jingle of chain mail beneath his duster, and the pack on his back.
He looked for someone to whom he could hand his horse. No one was readily apparent. With a frown, he tied the horse off to a hitching post, and made his way inside the stables. He did not call out, just stuck his head through the door. When no one shot him, nor greeted him, he stepped the rest of the way inside. Aside from a few animals in stalls, he saw no one. Frowning even more, he stalked out of the stables - and very nearly ran over a human child - maybe twelve years old, chattering excitedly.
"Gosh! I'm sorry, mister! Only, I was jist come back from the jail, an' the Doctor's in there, an' his daughter, an' she's OK, and they's all safe now, 'cept fer the ones what's dead, and the Heroes, they's all in there, too, and says the Sherrif's dead, and somethin' was dressed like him, an' now we're all safe, and there's like ta be a party, an' - "
The man raised a hand, and the boy - mercifully - stopped talking.
"Stable and feed for the horse. Couple-three days. Wipe down the harness, too, yeah?" His voice was low, dry with road dust, and matter-of fact.
"Oh, sure, mister! You'll need ta settle up wit' Mister Jeffrey, or Miss Sam, inside th' saloon. There might could be they gots a bed ta rent, too, if'n yer lookin'."
The man nodded to the boy, then flipped him a copper penny. The boy snagged the coin out of the air like a snake catching a baby bird, flashed the man a grin, and then moved to see to his horse. The man's lips twitched as though he had almost thought about smiling in return.
He collected one of the two sets of saddlebags off the horse's back, threw it over his shoulder, and made his way around the front of the building.
"Black Gold Inn," the man muttered, looking up at the sign. He made his way inside, headed to the barkeep.
"Need a room, and a bath, and got my horse in the stable out back," he said, without preamble. "Boy out back said I'd need to talk to Mister Jeffrey, or a Miss Sam."
"Well, I can round up Judge Calhoun easy enough. But technically it's up to me, to arrest McCady or not. And, frankly, the Hangman's Noose might be the most merciful thing for 'em. Kids died. When that happens, common sense and reason go right out the window. You saw how riled up the townsfolk were before. No telling what'll happen to McCady if I let him loose. But I can assure you that it'll be a lot less dainty than a rope."
***
The Barkeeper nodded.
"Owners should be back shortly, I suspect. We had a bit of excitement around here. Can't let you upstairs just yet. Orders from the deputy. But you're free to cool your heels here in the meanwhile."
He indicates the various bottles of liquor behind him.
"So what'll it be, stranger?"
The man grunted, then glanced around the room. Not seeing any immediate threats, he nodded. Setting his pack and saddlebag on the floor beside a stool, he took a seat.
"Whiskey," he said. Grudgingly, he followed that with, "and a beer."
He put a couple of coins on the bar, then, despite knowing that it was probably expected, went ahead and asked the question. "What kind of excitement?"
"Might be best they leave when we do." Mal replies, her eyes narrowing. "I ain't a-one to preach. Whole lotta pine boxes bein' filled up on account'a me. But my understandin' is that the primary job of a Sheriff is to protect people."
She clears her throat. "Now I ain't gonna speak to your predecessor, lettin' this all happen so close an' all." She stands up from the bar, looking at the Deputy with challenge in her eyes, "But you really mean to say that after we've uncovered a plot with shapeshiftin' cultists, wearing your faces all over town, you can't protect one fool man from his ordinary neighbors? Pfft."
Shaking her head in disappointment, Mal looks back to the bar. "Keep the man on ice 'til the Mayor arrives. Then we'll be on our way and we'll take 'em with us. Won't be your worry no more. Reckon we mighta left at least one cultist alive in the rock. They'll hang just as well as the boy would, and are far more to blame, if we're keepin' track and not just relyin' on the laws as set up by angry mobs. That mesh with you, Sheriff?"
"But you seem like an intelligent, fair man. Do you really want to deprive the little girl of her father, just because he wanted to save her? Have her spend the rest of her life thinking her father was a monster, just because he loved her so much? Does that sound like justice to you? Perhaps you could just quietly let them get out of town..."
Nertz. Hoping for the high 20's! :)
Ben about choked on another shot of whiskey when Mal said she wanted to bring McCady and his daughter with them. What in tarnation is that man and his girl gonna do in the Red Rum? he thought, eyeing Mal.
But it sounded like the girl had no other kin. How much longer would she live on her own? Lonely way to die, all a-hated on by the townsfolk.
Waste of having saved her, was what it was.
"They'd be in good hands," he said, trying not to look like an unshaven desperado so much as a Hero doin' what was right. He didn't have much practice with that, though.
Doc scowled at the suggestion that hanging McCady would be a kindness. "I expect such reasoning from tallfolk, but certainly not from the properly-heighted, Miss Bluefeather. You don't put people to death as a matter of convenience. When a man's life -- and let's be realistic, his daughter's as well -- hangs in the balance, it's not a matter of choosing the lesser evil."
Deputy Bluefeather looks at you skeptically.
"If you folks are looking to get killed at Red Rum Ravine, that's your business. But you'll be dragging that little girl there over my dead body!"
The deputy took a moment to calm herself, before speaking.
"Look, I want to help. I do. And maybe you're right. Hanging McCady is a little harsh. But he can't stay here. If he does, he's as good as dead."
She gives it some thought, before saying, "What about Tin Star? I think he has a sister up that-a-ways. A rancher or some such. It ain't too far, true. But far enough that he won't be strung up, by a mob, I think. And there's the Rails, of course. But I don't know if he has that kind of money."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Mallory manages to stop herself before responding to 'over my dead body' with a threat that would result in either one of their death's or her own incarceration. When Bluefeather calms down, however, Mal nods in agreement, moving her hand from near her holster up to the bar. "Better to die doin' somethin' than at the hands of a mob, s'all I was sayin'." She takes another drink. "Ain't been to Tin Star before, can't say how it'll work out for 'em, but cain't be worse'n this. S'pecially if he's got family there."
"Reckon the Mayor will see to it we get on the rails just fine. After all..." With a sly smile and a load of sarcasm in her voice, she tosses a wink at Ben. "...it ain't every day the 'great' Ben Dalton saves yer town."
"I don't recall anyone saying we would take them to Red Rum; that would be insanity indeed. We're headed to Tin Star, and I'll be living there for a time as well. I'm sure it's to where all of us were referring. If they have family in that area, so much the better."
Ben thumbed the brim of his hat at Mal in a sarcastic salute, but under his breath he muttered, "You have no idea."
Now that it seemed the girl had kin after all, he was all for leaving her in Tin Star. If her old man made it with her, well, that wasn't no skin off his nose.
"Thank you kindly for your hospitality, Sheriff," he said with a much more honest thumb of his hat at Bluefeather. "Seems like we got everything sorted out. Tell me, who is the Mayor of this fine town?"
'Least it ain't Gulch. I'd have figured him for bein' a part of all this, if he were.
Leland let the others deal with the proceedings. Tall folk law, is their own business and he doesn't care much about how they want to enforce it.
Once the discussion is over, he heads over to the rail office to send a report to the head office describing the mechanical infrastructure beneath the town. Hopefully with luck, company agents will arrive in time to make a claim on the gnomish technology before anyone makes a dog's breakfast of it all.
The man grunted, then glanced around the room. Not seeing any immediate threats, he nodded. Setting his pack and saddlebag on the floor beside a stool, he took a seat.
"Whiskey," he said. Grudgingly, he followed that with, "and a beer."
He put a couple of coins on the bar, then, despite knowing that it was probably expected, went ahead and asked the question. "What kind of excitement?"
"One of the Deputies tried something fresh with one of the guests. Bit off more than he could chew though. That fancy lady threw him through a window," the Barkeeper said with a chuckle.
He then cleared his throat.
"Sorry, don't mean to make fun of the dead. But that Deputy always rubbed me the wrong way. He just had this look about him, like he was always sizing you up. Predatory-like, you cotton?"
"And if that don't beat all. It turns out some monster was wearing the Sheriff's face," the Barkeeper shuddered.
"There was a time, we only needed to fend off Orc raids. Now there's monsters living under the town, that take your faces, Dancer keep us."
The shot-glass of whiskey stopped, halfway to the man's mouth, immediately after the barkeeper said the word "face" for the first time. It returned to the bar in an even, carefully controlled motion.
"Monsters," he asked the barkeeper. Living underground. Taking faces.
"Who found them," he asked, "and where?"
"Thank you kindly for your hospitality, Sheriff," he said with a much more honest thumb of his hat at Bluefeather. "Seems like we got everything sorted out. Tell me, who is the Mayor of this fine town?"
"Deputy," Bluefeather corrected gently. "The election of a new Sheriff won't be for a while yet. But, in the meanwhile, I'm calling the shots."
She looked over to Doctor Loveless, and said. "I had your friend confined back at the Inn, until this mess got sorted. But given the circumstances, I'm noting her actions as self-defense. She's free to leave the inn at any time. Just tell her to stop on by later to settle the investigation."
"In the meanwhile, I think its best McCady stays here detained for his safety. There's a caravan heading up to Tin Star in five days. I'll put him on that. If you handle your affairs with the mayor before then, I imagine they'll be thrilled to have your company. Might even pay ya for the privilege."
The shot-glass of whiskey stopped, halfway to the man's mouth, immediately after the barkeeper said the word "face" for the first time. It returned to the bar in an even, carefully controlled motion.
"Monsters," he asked the barkeeper. Living underground. Taking faces.
"Who found them," he asked, "and where?"
"Some new folk that was passing through town. I don't know the details myself, but there's been wild talk about them. Some say they took on Scalpin' Jack hisself on the roof of a moving train. Took his head clean off with his own knife and everything."
The barkeeper smiled as he wiped a glass clean.
"They found the monsters over by the Doc's house. There's some tunnel over there that goes under the town. It's spooky, if you ask me."
The man nodded. Spooky? Mister, you don't know the half of it.
He didn't know this "Scalpin' Jack" the barkeep talked about - or if he did, he didn't remember.
After a moment, he downed the whiskey shot, then put the glass on the bar - along with several gold coins.
"I'm gonna go look into a few things. My horse is out back. This should more than cover a couple days' keeping and feed. I expect I'll be back before then, but can you see to him for now?"
While he waited for an answer, the man hefted his pack back onto his shoulders.
"Oh, and, uh, where is the Doc's house?"
"Just follow the crowd. Reckon it won't be easy to miss."
The incorrectly named "Dalton Gang" leaves the Deputy's office and find a very determined individual marching past them to go to the Doctor's home.
-Posted with Wayfinder
The determined-looking individual - a human male, a couple inches short of six feet (though that's a guess, since he's got a brown rancher's hat on) - marched past the group, a heavy-looking pack on his back, and a pair of saddle bags over one shoulder. Even under that load, he didn't seem burdened.
Still, his pace slowed a step or two beyond the group, almost reluctantly. Then he stopped. Clearly, he was debating with himself. After a moment, he turned.
"'Scuse me," he said, loudly enough to get the attention of the group, but not impolitely so, "Would you be the folks that found the 'monsters' under the Doc's house?"
"That's us, all right," Ben confirmed, eyeing the stranger warily. He didn't seem the congratulating type. "What's it to you?"
The man gave Ben an appraising look. What that appraisal came to was not immediately apparent on his face.
"Man at the bar said the 'monsters' took folks' faces. I..." The stranger hesitated for a moment, then clearly made a conscious decision to continue. "I've seen the type before. Was gonna go take a look, make sure it wasn't just stories, maybe see if I could work out where these ones come from. Make sure there ain't a tunnel back to their home, could lead to more of 'em once you 'heroes' 're gone. They're tricky like that." He shrugged.
"But maybe you folks already made sure of that, and I can go back to my drink."
Doc's eyes narrow as he studies the stranger but, uncharacteristically, he doesn't say anything.
Mal shrugs. "Weren't just stories. Might well be more tunnels we didn't venture through. Reckon it could be likely they go elsewheres. You're more'n welcome to go lookin', boy. Ain't my concern what the townsfolk do next." With a curt nod, she turns and begins to walk away.
The stranger nodded.
"You're probably right," he said to Mal's back, and the others, "I'd probably feel the same, I was you. Perdition, I probably wouldn'a gone in there at all. 'Scept, now that you did, if those were just scouts you kilt, and there is a tunnel, well, once they don't report back, the rest of 'em's like to stop bein' so sneaky, just come out in a group one night, and take everyone. That happens, well, best hope we're not around, I guess."
'Cause I sure as hell ain't gonna git took again. He didn't even acknowledge that he'd had the thought.
Instead, the stranger just looked at the others for a long moment, his pale blue eyes intense under the brim of his hat. Then he shrugged.
"Guess I'll be goin' then. Hope y'all got all of 'em. I really do."
Characteristically, Bukaru *had* been silent thru all this, but at the stranger's last remarks she says, "It would be a waste to have helped the town this much, only to leave them to their doom *on account of our actions* - is anyone here willing to live with that?
On the other hand, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am incapable of doing anything else without a good night's sleep.
While it's possible they might have other exits, perhaps we could sleep at the doctor's house tonight and board up the entrance, and then go back in tomorrow?"
Ben snorted. "We done plenty for these folks, and if somethin' else pops out of the woodwork down there, well, that ain't no fault of ours. They come lookin' for trouble while we're here, they'll find it, that's for certain and true. If these folks can't protect themselves without us, well, I ain't of the intent to stay here the rest of my days. Once the mayor's back and we're off with Gulch, you're welcome to try for the office of the sheriff, and get old protectin' 'em. Or not."
He nodded to the stranger. "Thanks for the warning, though."
The days go by and nothing comes out of the hole under the McCady house. A week passes, and the Mayor arrives. He's thrilled to hear about the oil, as he's the legal owner of the town as well as its duly elected leader.
Funny how that happens.
He offers you each a purse of $50 gold dollars and a horse or pony from his own stock, including saddles, tack and shoes. Since Doctor Loveless already managed to purchase himself a pretty, little strawberry roan, the Mayor opts to refund his $20, personally.
Miss Wen is a bit shaken by her ordeal, but bounces back quickly once the investigation if officially cleared in her favor.
Deputy Bluefeather kept mum on the issue of McCady's release, during this time. "Best to do it, quiet like," she assures you. "Don't want to risk a mob. A caravan leaves in a day or two, and he'll be on it."
The Caravan is being led by a dwarf named Ortega Chispa. And if you're willing to accompany him on his way to Tin Star, he'd be more than happy to pay you $2 each.
Naturally, Ben had spent the greater amount of his time at the town's cathouse, and so he was in a good mood and a helpful frame of mind when Chispa made his offer. Seeing as it was where they were headed in any case, he couldn't see why he should say no to being paid for it.
Whistling a low, jaunty tune as he leaned against an alley wall, he waited for the McCadys to be shuffled into the caravan, and waited to see who else might turn up for the payment.
The stranger had spent a couple of days down in the tunnels, satisfying himself that there were no further dangers lurking in the shadows.
After that, he'd checked with the deputy to be sure there weren't any other tunnels anyone knew about under any of the other buildings in town.
Then he'd pretty-much kept himself to himself, waiting for the caravan to Tin Star. The revelation that monsters had been in the area overcame his natural avoidance of other folks, and he decided the safety of traveling in a group was the smarter way to go. Even drinking mostly by himself, he couldn't help but hear some of the stories of the 'Dalton Gang,' and their heroics. If half of the stories were to be believed, traveling with them would be much safer than traveling alone. Then again, if the other half of the stories were to be believed, this group attracted trouble like honey attracted ants. But they'd survived it all, so something was working for them.
When he heard about the offer of $2 for folk to work as security on the caravan, that just cemented his decision.
The stranger rode up to the staging point, he and his horse both loaded for travel. He looked for a likely person to be in charge, and held up the handbill that had been posted in the tavern.
"Hear you're willin' ta pay for escorts. I'm available, if you're payin'."
Leland spent the last couple of days sending telegrams to keep his superiors in the loop and adjusting Gizmo for the journey ahead. Putting in an order for some equipment at the local dry goods store, he waits for his delivery and any other instructions from the head office.
Bukaru mentioned the underground machinery to someone in charge (deputy, I think), that probably would have led to the discovery of the oil?
She's keeping to herself, trying to decide if she wants to continue to associate with people who don't care about the welfare of others once they've gotten their payday. It's not likely, but if she runs into Ben she will be reserved and curt (in a polite way, of course).
I will come up with a list of potions and/or scrolls that I've bought here soon.
To say that Mallory spent the entire time drunk might be an understatement.
Ridding the world of some evil should have felt good, and liberating, but instead it just felt like a weight on her, knowing that such things had been there in the first place. When she closed her eyes, she still saw Scalpin' Jack. She saw people she had known - friends, lovers, enemies - remove their faces like some of those monsters under the town. The only way she could sleep was to completely dull her senses. "Ain't nothin' good ever comes from doin' the right thing." she kept muttering to herself.
Little had been seen of her doing the few days waiting for the caravan - often she'd go down to the bar just long enough to get another bottle. She didn't even try for any 'companionship' during the time, possibly afraid that they might prove to be duplicate people as well. Instead, she closed herself off completely, and waiting for the caravan that would take her away from this hell, and the numerous bodies that she had left in it.
As the caravan is being assembled, a strawberry roan bearing a certain gnome arrives and settles into a position near what would eventually become the middle of the pack.
Doc had mostly kept to himself since the meeting with Bluefeather. Or at least, none of the others had caught sight of him very often. He'd immediately gone to check on Jade and update her on the situation, of course. He'd then returned to Applejack, who almost seemed pleased when he struggled back into her saddle.
Though the apple he'd offered her first might have been a factor...
His intent had been to again head out to Tin Star on his own. He really did want to secure his quarters and get a lab set up before the start of "Gulch's Folly." And the pony was already loaded and provisioned for the trip, since he'd been pulled straight off the trail and back to town. No reason not to wheel her around and head out at that very moment.
But the more he'd thought about the situation, about the uncertainty, about what he didn't know, the more it bothered him. Dopplegangers, an underground complex with ties to Spoon, that greasy snake Gulch... and Jade in the midst of what might yet transpire if all the loose ends hadn't been tied.
And he was pretty certain they hadn't been.
Then there was the caravan to Tin Star. The doctor and his little girl... they'd been through enough already. No doubt there would be other innocents journeying as well. Much as he loathed the thought of wasting time cooling his heels -- not to mention suffering the indignities regularly doled out by tallfolk -- he knew it would gnaw at him if something he might have prevented happened to the others. Especially Jade.
So, he grumbled and groused and explained his frustration to Applejack who -- other than cocking a sympathetic ear back in his direction -- chose not to offer her opinion on the matter. And in the end, he wound up in a room at the hotel, occasionally wandering out to purchase this or that item or ingredient that occurred to him, but mostly hunkering down to study and take notes.
As his eyes wandered over the people assembling for the journey, he saw some faces he knew, and some he didn't. That nosy stranger from after the meeting being one of the latter. His eyes narrowed a bit. He'd seen the fellow from the window of his room once or twice as the man roamed about town. Doc had also ducked into an alley to avoid him once while returning from the general store. Something felt... "off" about the man, and Doc knew well enough to trust his instincts.
Miss Mallory and Dalton are irritants, he thought sourly, but at least they're known quantities. I hope this one doesn't turn out to be another Gulch.
Against her better judgement about the people she was traveling with, Bukaru decided that the doc and little girl might need some protection if anyone in town found out where they were, so she joins the caravan too.
She politely turns down the $2 offered for the trip.
True to her word, Deputy Bluefeather escorts McCady and his daughter to the caravan, which leaves right before Dawn one early morning.
"Still not entirely convinced this is a good idea," she admits to you quietly. "But a hanging just feels too harsh."
McCady looks guilt ridden, but thankful nonetheless, while little Lucy is practically hopping with happiness. And as the Caravan gets underway she is constantly asking you questions. In particular, she seems enamored with Mallory's pretty hair, and the gun on her hip. And she makes a point to ask you about the Shooter's Religion.
Jade Wen is also traveling with you, but like Bukaru, declines any money to travel with the caravan. "I'm not normally good in a brawl," she says. "But I'll happily help anyone here, if they get sick or wounded."
Mr. Gulch tells you that he has business in Dry City still. But he'll catch up with you in Tin Star in a month.
***
It's easy for green horns to think of the Big Drop as one big, dead, dusty bowl. But it is in fact teeming with life and diversity. The dusty trail of Dry City soon gives way to rolling plains of fertile green fields. You spot a wild herd of aurochs, at one point in the day, lazily grazing.
"Best to leave 'em alone," Ortega tells you. "They're meaner than they look. Especially in a group like that. Shame we can't get one alone though. Auroch meat is a fine meal."
Ortega Chispa is a stern dwarf when it comes to keeping his caravan on time. But he never loses his temper or raises his voice. And you get the impression that he doesn't need to. Folks just seem to respond to him.
You have a break at noon to feed the animals and get some chow. Ortega offers you dwarven coffee out of his own personal stash. "Beans are straight out of Hierro. Finest in the world," he tells you proudly. For those who wish to partake, he offers a dash of whiskey, "for the true dwarven experience."
It's a good one. Burning just right, without addling the mind.
***
Late in the afternoon, the caravan enter a small canyon. It has to slow down as you spot a triceratops laying down across the middle of the road. Squeezing past it would be difficult at best.
Ortega gestures to you. "Hey, why don't you folks ride up there and see if you can scare it off the road. But don't kill it, unless it tries to kill you first. It pisses the elves off something fierce."
The stranger hadn't gone out of his way to introduce himself to anyone in the caravan, other than when Ortega had pointed out that they would need to have something to call him, should they need him in a hurry. Since then, the others had heard the dwarf refer to him as "Lonergan" a few times.
Now when the dwarf "suggested" that the dinosaur be coaxed off of the road, Lonergan looked unimpressed. He checked to make sure his gear was safely secured to his saddle, including his backpack. Then he nodded, and kicked his horse forward.
Something made Lonergan feel uneasy for just a moment, but he shook it off.
"Varmints like this normally take naps in the middle of the road?" His question wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but since he hadn't spoken much up to now, it was probably not rhetorical.
"It's not napping, it's been killed - see the spears, there and there?"
oops, sorry, force of habit... ;)
Talking just loud enough so everyone nearby can hear : "Everyone, STOP! This could be a trap, forcing us to stop so we can be ambushed from the top of the canyon. It would be wise if we could get up to the ridges of the canyon ourselves and see what's up there."
It is clear that turning around the caravan where it's currently situated would take time. As for ambushing the ambush, you see an outcropping where you could climb up without being seen. The mounts couldn't go up though. It would need to be on foot.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Looking where Bukaru pointed, Lonergan nodded, then looked up and around at the cliffs.
That's what had been bothering him!
"Yeah, ambush. 'S how I'd do it. They ain't jumped us yet, means the caravan's not in the sweet spot yet. But we gotta move fast. Soon as we start climbing cliffs, they'll know the jig's up - either scatter - that's the smart thing - or attack us anyway. Depends on how desperate they're feeling."
He dismounted, leaving his pack on the horse, but pulling a coil of rope from it, and laying it across his shoulder.
"I can git up that rock, but someone should probably stay down here, just in case they get someone behind us. If anyone has a hook, I can drop this here rope once I'm up there. Make it easier for the rest o' ya to follow.
"Not knowing at all where they are, this may not be useful, but...what if Doctor Loveless threw some of his explosive devices up there before you go up? Perhaps that would startle them enough to scare them off completely? Or at least distract them while the rest of you get up there?"
"Elves." Ben muttered the word like a curse. He scanned the canyon; yep, Lonergan was right. This was the perfect place for an ambush.
"Somebody better go on up and poke that critter, or they'll know we're on to them anyway. I don't much like the idea of throwin' explosives up there, though. Pile o' rock ain't malicious, but it'll still get you killed."
Doc nods at Ben's words. "I'm willing to lob a few bombs up there, but it might bring rocks crashing down on us. A rockslide could be a far sight more dangerous than an averted ambush."
He eyes the cliff and slope. "Best I stay down here regardless. Climbing isn't my forte."
Twisting in the saddle, he retrieves his crossbow and loads a quarrel.
"Doctor, shall you and I proceed to the carcass to maintain the illusion that we don't know it's an ambush? And hope our comrades can interrupt it before anything happens to us?"
Pleased to find herself leaving Dry City, Mallory's mood does lighten a bit on the train, though still only so far as that she isn't wanting to shoot her fellow passengers. She also finds herself relieved that Gulch isn't coming with them, but curious about his remaining work in Dry City. 'Snake'll probably twist it to make his own self in charge.' she thinks darkly.
Mallory's reception to Lucy is somewhat cold at first, but since McCady is too wrapped up in his own guilt to pay her much mind, Mallory feels somewhat obligated to lighten up a bit. Besides, the girl serves as a good distraction from her own thoughts.
Reaching the green certainly helps, too. Mallory can't recall the last time she saw such hills and pastures. Everything has just been sand and desert for so long. By the time they stop, Mallory has explained a lot about the Shooter's Religion, gotten her hair braided, and livened up quite a bit.
When they jump out to take a look at what's up ahead, Mal goes so far as to toss a grin and wink at the girl, "Keep an eye on things here, yeah?"
Mallory comes to the same conclusion that Jake does, but still cocks an eyebrow at him. "Does seem like spot for an ambush," she agrees. At the two men's suggestion of going up above, Mal nods, surprised to find that she trusts Ben to keep an eye on Jake. Besides, she wasn't much for climbing, and there was no need for them to know that. 'Always hiding weaknesses, eh, girl?' she thinks to herself.
"Alright." She agrees. "Go on up, I'll keep an eye down here."
Drawing her gun, Mallory begins to advance towards the creature in the road, keeping her eyes open for anything suspicious.