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

Game Master Loup Blanc

Notice: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 1

"Boy, maybe, if'n you couldn't tell by the uniform, or maybe you're just too drunk, stupid, and ignorant to tell what one is, sir, but I serve law of the country, not some hillbilly ass middle of nowhere country bumpkin like you, but THE country, and you can bet I got me a heck of a respect for law of the city and the men what risk their lives for it. I ain't here to take nobody over, but if you have something to say, maybe, just maybe, I can hear you much clearer outside in the street, face to face. That man you done spat at just got done savin' the lives of a many an innocent woman and child, and the way I look at it, that makes him a hero, and I don't take kindly to men spittin' on bone-fide heroes."

Cornelius stands up out of his bar seat and eyes the man coldly. "And since them gang members had a gun pulled on me when he was helpin' save those lives, I call him friend, and I certainly don't take kindly to someone spittin' on my friends. I don't take kindly to it at all. You apologize, and you do it now."

He walks slowly, determined, eyes locked with the man. "We ain't got no beef with you 'side of that fact, but sir, and you hear me clear when I say this, I got a whole Texas herd of all kinds of beef if the next three words out your mouth ain't 'I'm sorry sir'."

I should've put points into intimidate.
Intimidate: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
That speech is totally worth spending a Benny
Intimidate: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 2 = Total 6.

The Doc smiles and slings back his drink. "I await it with bated breath."

Spirit: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 Bixler resists mightily!
Biff's step forward, as well as Cornelius's intimidating stare and cold speech, do give some pause to the man. He swallows and steps back... where he bumps into one of his fellows. The rest of the drinking party has risen, and now fully a dozen men stand behind the original troublemaker. He turns back to our posse and lifts his fists with a grin, clearly willing to fight given his backup. "I'm sorry you picked the wrong side," he says.

Time for a Dramatic Task combat, everybody! These work a little differently than usual combat, so I'll explain. Each person gets an Action Card as usual, and you act on that, although the enemies won't have a turn themselves. Each turn you can make a Fighting roll at -2 to assist in the brawl; you're either fighting on your own, or working cooperatively with someone else. Cooperative rolls work as usual, with each Success and Raise adding +1 to the Leader's roll. The other main difference is Complications, which occur if your Action Card is a Club: this involves a slight narrative disadvantage and gives you an additional -2 to the roll. Don't worry too much if you don't do too well here, as the worst that comes of it is some Fatigue even if you fail.

Keep in mind, of course, that it's a Dramatic Task, not usual combat, so feel free to take some liberties with descriptions. You can do some things in this that you might not be able to really accomplish in normal combat very easily, so have fun! This also applies if you think another Trait test could be useful: describe what you do and roll for it with the -2. As long as it makes some sense I'll allow it.

Seeing as the order of Actions doesn't really matter in this, only who's with who and how many Successes are gained, I'll only post if anyone gets a Complication.

As the brawl begins, the sides square off, with no one at an advantage or disadvantage. Bixler takes the first swing, missing Cornelius, but the fight is on! No Complications this round: everybody's up!

"Son of a b*tch." Claire mutters as the first punch is thrown. "I leave them for five seconds..." She grabs the nearest thing she can, an empty metal cup, and slings it at the troublemaker. "Oi! Motherless sh*te head! Ganging up on someone ain't neighborly."

Fighting: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 5 Total: 15, pretty sure that's a raise or two.

Would this be a good opportunity to turn my Hindrance into a help? Namely the fact that my displays of physical strength can be...Bunyan-esque? Or should I stick to stuff I can actually DO, just fancier?

Notice: 1d4 - 4 ⇒ (3) - 4 = -11d6 - 4 ⇒ (3) - 4 = -1
Eddy pats Cornealius on the shoulder "A truly rousing speech, but these dimwits won't bend over to words..." as he dashes past Cornealius and jumps into the air, a muscled awesome-propelled rocket, yelling "But they will bend to the Queen's Elbow!"

The time seems to stop to a halt as Eddy poses mid-air and sends a kiss to a random redhead bartender that just appeared... before slamming down on the drunken marauder.

Fighting: 1d10 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 41d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1

Na-ay. This is Elbow's time. No dice will screw it. Benny
Fighting: 1d10 - 2 ⇒ (10) - 2 = 81d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Ace: 1d10 ⇒ 9
Much better. That's a 17.

"BIFF! TAG-TEAM!"

Cornelius doesn't mince words. He ain't one for martial arts or fancy moves. He grabs the rabble rouser by the hair and slams him face-first into the edge of the bar.
Fighting: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1

Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 4 Total = 8 = raise?

Cornelius hears the sickening CRUNCH sound where the man's nose once was.

Biff is too busy laughing to help Eddy.

"HAHAHAHA...'we're on the wrong side'...AHAHAHA!" he collapses to the floor, tears rolling down his face, and begins to pound his fist on the ground.

Fighting: 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

At each rhythmic thump, the building itself jumps, as if an earthquake was shaking the saloon!

Though Askuwheteau has been mostly quiet since entering the bar he does look up at the start of the shouting match. Noticing the bit of red around the mans neck he moves up to him and grabs whatever the red cloth is, drawing the conclusion that these men are part of the cowboy gang he lets out a low growl, then rams his head into the other man's.

It's been about 36 hours since I posted this round, so I'll post for Samuel. As far as I can tell it looks like everyone's fighting on their own for mechanical purposes so far.

Fighting: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 4 Total 8.

As the fight breaks out, Ned Boyle, the bartender, gives a cry and ducks under his counter. Cornelius easily dodges Bixler's wild swing and retaliates without flair, slamming the man face-first into the bar. As he comes up woozily, Askuwheteau follows up Cornelius's assault with a headbutt, and the troublemaker falls to the floor, fully dazed.

Eddy leaps off the bar and plows his elbow into another of the rabble-rousers, while Biff pounds his fist on the ground. The building shakes, and while it has the desired effect of putting several of the brawlers off-balance, it also causes several drinks to spill over. Angry cries join the sounds of the fight, and a few more drunken men join the fight, swinging wildly at whoever is near.

Claire tosses a tankard at one of the men and it clangs off his skull, resounding soundly. His eyes go crossed and he slumps into a chair. Sam relies on what little he knows and has picked up of fighting: he grabs a mug off the bar and smashes it into someone's face, which does the job of sending him sprawling back. So far it seems our posse has things well in hand.

Complications: Keeping in mind that there are currently 7 Raises stocked by the party to negate these, it's impossible that you have any this round. That said, you cancel 1 potential Comp, meaning you have 6 Raises pooled left. Everyone's up again. Also Cornelius, I forgot to mention it: Private Chasen is still with you, and he can assist you in this combat. He's only got a d6 Fighting, so he'd be best off just trying to assist you, but it's something!

Chasen and Cornelius link arms as a crazed brawler runs at them, and give the man a double lariat clothesline.

Attack with Aid: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Wild: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Eddy stands up from the now beautifuly sleeping drunkard and yells "I have become Brawlio, god of fisticuffs! Destroyer of backs!" as he dashes to assist Biff, possibly with a double supplex.

Fighting: 1d10 ⇒ 31d6 ⇒ 3

Claire calmly sets her hat on the fero table. "I'll be back in just a moment Doc." She shoulder tackles the nearest tough, bull rushing him into a wall as hard as her slim frame can muster.

As he reaches down to grab the mans red bandana Askuwheteau kicks a nearby chair into another mans legs

Been nearly 48 hours since my last post...

Biff and Eddy, however, have a surprisingly rough time. They attempt a double suplex, trying to smash one of the larger ruffians into a table, but he escapes their grasp and gives them each a sharp jab for their trouble. Sam, unsure of what to do in this situation, throws another mug, but it clatters off the wall.

Complications for Round 3: Ash and Sam are looking at a Complication unless they want to use a banked Raise. Currently the party has 9 Successes, two each for Ash, Claire, and Cornelius, and 1 each for the others. Your goal is 30 total for the group across the five rounds of this Task, or five Successes per person. Since I'm not sure how Raises are meant to be tracked or used in this system, I'll add in a rule that extra Raises left at the end will automatically be used to bring up the Success total as much as possible.

Askuwheteau frowns when the man stops him from grabbing his bandana and instead pulls him to his feet, before throwing him into another fighter.

If no one objects, I'll use a banked raise to get rid of that complication.

Samuel, still unsure of what to do since his first successful shot from a bottle, opts to grab a stool from the bar and swing it wildly over his head. Unfortunately, it shows pretty clearly that Samuel's never been in a bar fight, and his only accomplishment is narrowly avoiding taking out part of the Oriental's door frame with the seat of the stool.

I'm honestly kinda confused why we have a -2 to our rolls in this now that I think about it. Why are we worse at fighting suddenly?

Biff goes for revenge against the man who dared break their grapple, and runs partway up a wall, aiming an elbow drop to the back of the man's neck!

WRESTLE: 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
WRASSLE: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4

Ace!: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Claire whips around and kicks out at the nearest man's kneecap from behind. She smirks savagely as her heavy boots connect with his joint.

Seeing the marvelous move of his pal, Eddy feels strengthened.
He gathers his inner power in his lower torso and jumps, waving and extending both arms, palms opened, spinning at a ludicrous speed that turns him into a twister of smacks that colours many a brawler faces red of more than anger.

"Secret Technique: Slapnado!" he yells

Fighting: 1d10 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 51d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1

The -2 is part of the Dramatic Task system, to reflect that they're typically tasks of importance and stress. In this case, it's because you're being mobbed by a group literally twice the size of yours, and the chaotic atmosphere of the barroom brawl doesn't help with attempting to accurately and usefully combat people.

Favor seems to edge back toward the party once more, as Ash successfully hauls Bixler to his feet. The apparent Cowboy starts to raise his hands, which only makes him unable to steady himself when the native shoves him into some of his allies, sending the loudmouth back to the floor and off-balancing some of the other fighters. Samuel, still unsure of himself, nearly takes out the door with the barstool, and doubles over as one of the assailants thumps him from behind. Biff comes back from his earlier mishap with a vengeance, and viciously drops the man who escaped his grasp with a well-placed elbow.

Claire, Cornelius, and Eddy are still up this round. Currently 11 Successes and 5 stocked Raises.

The Flight provided by Eddy's Airlines have taken off mere minutes before your arrival, sir

Errr... I just went. Like ten minutes before you posted.

My bad. That post took a bit to complete and I had to run right after posting, didn't check for ninjas.

Claire kicks out the knee of one of the ruffians, sending him toppling to the floor with a grunt. Eddy, meanwhile, turns into a vicious cyclone of open-hand brutality, and sends a pair of brawlers who get too close flying back. A small cloud of dust rises from the floor around him, blinding a couple more of the apparent Cowboy sympathizers.

Only waiting on Cornelius. I'll draw for the next complications when I get the chance, so no worries on time.

Cornelius's player posted in another game that he's working through some stuff right now, so hopefully he'll be able to join us soon, but in the interest of moving things forward I'm going to roll for him.
Fighting: 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3 Wild: 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Cornelius and Chasen do their best to keep up the teamed assault, but a group of the brawlers separates them and they find themselves unable to do much.

Complications: There's one for Cornelius and one for Eddy, so that might eat up some Raises, but Biff gets a Joker for this round, which means the +2 cancels the usual -2 for the Task! You're currently at 13 Successes and 7 saved Raises as you enter Round 4.

Samuel takes a wild swing for another man with his fist, but just barely misses the man with his punch. He squares off into the best fighting stance he can muster, but isn't much one for being up close and personal. He keeps his hands up in front of his face, hoping he'll manage to hold off anyone who comes in for another swing.

Fighting: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2
Fighting; Ace: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0
Total of 3.

Claire delivers a heavy kick across the downed man's face, knocking him out cold before she steps over his prone form. "Who's next boyo?" she growls, cracking her knuckles.

I will use a banked raise

The Eddycopter lands graciously and not a second after he's already mid air again, executing a savage flying kick which years later certain Texas' Ranger would learn and make his signature move...

Fighting: 1d10 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 21d6 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2
No. Benny
Fighting: 1d10 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 01d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Biff looks at the amateur brawlers arrayed around him and rolls his eyes. He merely casually backhands the next person that rushes at him, seding him flying.

FIGHTIN': 1d8 ⇒ 8
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Ace!: 1d8 ⇒ 3

Success, and a raise!

In fact, he backhands the man so hard his head crashes through the wall, sticking out into the street.

Looking around the room Askuwheteau grabs the chair he kicked earlier and swings it right into a mans face.

The Confederate Tag-Team: 1d6 - 3 ⇒ (5) - 3 = 2
Wild: 1d6 - 3 ⇒ (5) - 3 = 2 I'll let whoever posts next decide if Cornelius uses a Raise to cancel the Complication and make this a Success.

Sam swings wildly at one of the brawlers before him, but he isn't able to do much more than force the man into a defensive position. The huckster quickly brings up his own arms to ward off a hail of blows. Claire follows up her last kick with another, catching the man strong across the jaw. He slumps to the floor, clearly unconscious. Eddy joins in the booted fun, and he delivers a mighty kick similar to a roundhouse punch, but with even more force behind it. The unfortunate man who catches it is sent flying into a table, which collapses into splinters under the force of the blow. Biff has similar success, hurling a man into the wall with a simple backhanded slap. The echo of a shout comes from outside the saloon, perhaps from the man whose head just went out that way. Askuwheteau swings the chair up and it cracks apart against one of the ruffians, who goes down heavily. Finally, Cornelius and Chasen double-team a pair of the thugs who've separated apart, and in a daring maneuver they roll back-to-back, perhaps confusing their foes enough to strike true.

As we move into the fifth round, the group has 17 Successes and 8 Raises. Cornelius and Sam are looking at Complications for this round. I won't say everything, but at this point your victory is almost assured, so give me one more round of actions, folks!

Cornelius and Chasen, southerners at heart, keep with the Wrestlemania theme a hundred years before it's time. Chasen ducks down to give Cornelius an ally-oop, who goes for a flying elbow against his target.

-1 from dramatic, +1 from Chasen's aid
Fighting: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6
OOOOH YEEEEEAH (Macho-Man voice): 1d6 ⇒ 3 = Total 15 (2 raises)

Cornelius gets serious ups from Chasen's ally-oop, and performs a front somersault (with rolls like that, you bet he does) before flying into a group of men. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-HAW!" Cornelius yells, with the 'Haw' accentuating the connection as "The Confederate Elbow" connects with the side of one man's head, sending the target staggerring into a pile of men and they spill all over the place.

Cornelius springs back unto his feet and starts to walk around the bar like king rooster of the chicken coop.

"HOT DAMN, no wonder you Brits love this stuff. That. Was. Great!"

HEY, hey, hey, that post wasn't up when I started this! Look at the time stamp; one minute apart!

Claire whistles softly as the Brits hurl the, rather stupid, thugs around like toys. "Right, I guess they're next." With the fight mostly wrapped up, she grabs a beer bottle and hurls it at one of the few remaining morons. Unfortunately, her aim is a bit off and it flies past his head to shatter against a wall.

Two notes: first, the Dramatic Task imparts a -2, not a -1, which in this case doesn't matter. Second, it's up to you if you want to use your post as your round 4 action, in which case you can act again, of if you want to just use it for round 5.

Round 4 - I feel lucky

Cornelius walks up and high fives Chasen, and if this were a hundred years later you'd swear he were tagging his partner in. Chasen climbs the bar while Cornelius puts a man in a full Nelson, and the private goes for the flying dropkick from the top rope bar top.

So with +1 this is -1 then?: 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
Wild: 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

Yeah, I'm gonna spend a banked raise to avoid the complication there...

Unfortunately, high flying is not Chasen's strong point, and the kick falls comically short.

I haven't watched wrestling in 20 years or so, but dang it if this description isn't a hoot to type up.

Unfortunately, high flying is not Chasen's strong point, and the kick falls comically short...

...but Eddy appears there, following his wrestle sense, and tags with Cornealius for a finisher: while Dick keeps the thug locked with the full Nelson, Eddy jumps over them and lands in front. In a quick spin, Eddy slaps both sides of his face, the force of the slap so great his pants fall and his momma is hear crying far away.

Biff decides to invent a new technique that will eventually culminate a new style of dancing AND martial arts.

He lays on his back and spins himself rapidly, kicking everyone in the face as he does so. The tornado was unintentional, but a welcome after-effect.

Fightin': 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
WILD YEAH: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4

Ace!: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Re: Eddy: I've got no problem with turning it into an assist for the sake of the party.
Ash Fighting: 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4 Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Sam Fighting: 1d4 - 4 ⇒ (3) - 4 = -1 Wild: 1d6 - 4 ⇒ (6) - 4 = 2 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 3 Uh.

After Cornelius and Chasen's daring maneuver, the fight devolves into true and utter chaos. It seems the ruffians are starting to second-guess themselves, as the new arrivals in town are well and thoroughly beating them. Claire misses with a bottle throw, but Eddy, Chasen, and Cornelius all work together to humiliate and knock out one of the toughs. Biff launches himself into a strange whirling of kicks, and several brawlers are knocked from their feet, whether by strike or the gust of wind he kicks up. Askuwheteau picks up some splinters of the chair he used earlier and uses them to beat one of the men, slamming wood about his head and shoulders. And something in Sam may have snapped, as he lets out a ferocious yell and surges forward, slamming two men and carrying them all the way to a window, shoving them out through the thin wood of the shutters onto the city streets.

Congratulations, all--the Task is complete! I count 31 Successes and 13 Raises for the group, well above what you needed to come out victorious. I'm not sure if/when we'll be doing another of these, but I'll be double-checking the subsystem's rules by then so we're all more clear on how it works. For now, though, enjoy the fruits of your labors!

As the window smashes open and our posse comes together once more, a few of their assailants gather as well, with Bixler standing in front. His pale red bandana is now pulled out of his shirt, hanging open for all to see. "You... you no-good g*d-damned city bastards! I'll--"

The Cowboy's threat is cut off by the sudden crack of gunfire from the door of the bar. All eyes turn to see none other than Wyatt Earp, gun in hand, the DEPUTY US MARSHAL star shining on his chest and danger gleaming in his eyes. "Everybody stand down!" He steps inside, eyeing both sides of the conflict, but keeping his gun pointed slightly more towards Bixler's crew. "I leave for five minutes and all Hell breaks loose in here. What the hell's going on?"

"Nothing," Bixler responds, after only some hesitation. He jerks his head toward the door, and the ruffians make their way outside, picking up their battered; two of them wrench their comrade from his place stuck through the wall. Several give the posse stink eyes on the way out, but no more trouble starts just now.

Ned Boyle stands back up behind his bar and leans over to talk to Wyatt. "It was Bixler started it, Wyatt. These folks stuck up for themselves and for you, and the law in general if I remember right."

"That so?" Wyatt grabs a bottle and glass off the bar and pours himself a drink, turning to the party. "Well, I've always liked a man who likes the law, and who's willing to stick up for what he believes in. How's free cigars in the Oriental for perpetuity sound to you folks, in compensation for your deeds here?"

He grins and throws back the drink, but by the time he's set the glass back down, a more somber look has returned to his face. "And if you're planning on staying in town for a while, we could use your help. You look to have suitable skills to help keep the peace, and things may come to a head soon. Very soon."

The lawman raises his glass and points a finger at the pale man in the corner. "No thanks to that one either. Doc, Ike Clanton tells me the two of you had some words this morning at the Alhambra. What in God's name are you thinking, stirring up trouble like that?"

"Why, Wyatt." Holliday drawls the words with saccharine tones. "Whatever could you mean by that? Intentionally seeking out Ike Clanton and 'having words' with him. Does that seem like the kind of thing I would do?"

Earp stares at the man for a few more seconds; Doc only raises an eyebrow and his drink. Finally, Wyatt sighs and turns to the group. "I think I'm going to head home, unless you have any questions."

"Just a dumb little sh*te trying to cause trouble by pickin' a fight with the new folks in town," Claire replies. She casually flips the bird toward Bixler and his crew as they stumble toward the door. "Nothin' you need to worry yourself about." She pauses and considers for a moment. "I'm hardly one to turn down free smokes and if keeping the peace means dealing with more fools like him, then I'm more than happy to oblige."

She frowns slightly. "I have a few questions for Doc, but I've got one thing I should probably ask. Who the hell is Ike Clanton and why should we care?"

Doc Holliday speaks up from his seat in response to Claire. "Ike Clanton is a no-good drunken lout, and a pox on this fine city." This seems to indicate Wyatt's turn to raise an eyebrow, and the lawman shakes his head.

"Ike Clanton is the leader of the Cowboys, at least in name. He and his brothers, plus the McLaurys, make up the most of their numbers in leadership. Ike also runs a restaurant in town, serving up cattle steak that was probably grazing across the border not so long ago." Wyatt leans back on the bar and takes a cigar from the box there. "He's a drinker, sure, and he's the loudest of the bunch when it comes to starting trouble here in town. Not a whole lot of brains in him, far as I can tell." He strikes a match from his pocket and puffs a small cloud of smoke into the air. "Still no reason to rile him up intentionally, though. Sooner or later he's gonna start real trouble, and I'm thinking it's gonna be sooner."

"Ah! So we should go over and thump him, and the McLaurys! THat should solve our Cowboy problem, right?"

Claire sighs. "I believe that it's not really enforcing the law if we go and attack them like a group of thugs," she points out. "Though if someone got them riled up, we may be seeing the Cowboys around town causing more trouble anyway. Come to think of it, they're probably not going to be happy about losing a dozen men either... We might end up in a bit of a scuffle anyway."

Samuel dusts himself off after slamming two of the thugs out into the streets, and straightens the tie still around his neck. "Err... my apologies, I think something got the better of me there." He listens as Wyatt and the other discuss the Cowboys, nodding at Claire's assertion. "They seem awfully fond of fights, don't they? I have a feeling they'll be looking for any excuse to start something with us... especially now that we've thrown in our lot with the law," he continues, motioning towards Wyatt again. "Not that I'd do it differently a second time around, but I doubt they'll take kindly to us after that."

"...and that's a bad thing? Far as I can see, just gives us justification to teach them the lesson they need a learnin'."

"Any time you need an excuse to do something to someone, it's generally a thing you want to think twice about," Claire points out. "Even if they deserve it." She sighs. "It's something we'll have to deal with another day anyway. Unless we're expectin' the Cowboys to come by lookin' for trouble tonight."

She turns back to Doc. "So unless they do show up, I'd like to actually have a chance to speak with the good doctor."

As the conversation winds down and Claire goes to talk to Holiday Askuwhteau approaches Wyatt with a question. "You are connected to the law keepers of this area correct? And so would know of many of the, Outlaws, that would be in the area? I was hoping that you may be able to assist me in locating a man named John Wesly Harden, my traveling companions believe that he is in fact a wanted man in the White Man's territory."

Okey, I'm a tool... I swear to god I remember having posted. But it seems it went to the place where the keys, sharpeners and such things go: T.P.W.K.A. (The Place Where Keys Are)

Eddy walks to the bar and sits, speaking to the bartman in a soft voice "While my fellow brawlers decide where we are going now -I have no opinion on the matter if there's more cowboy adventures waiting- would you please be so kind as to rekindle my inner flame? I do believe around these parts you have a beverage you dare call whiskey, let's see if it stands up to our kilt-wearing's analog." when the glass is served he drinks it slowly, palating the liquid "Much appreciated. Still not whiskey though, but good for what it's designed."

"Oh, the scuffle isn't in question anymore," Wyatt says. "Between everything that's already happened, and now you folks showing up in town, stopping their train robbery and beating on their buddies, not to mention Doc picking a fight with old Ike..." The lawman shakes his head. "I don't begrudge you for what you've done, of course; I thank you for it. But the fact of the matter is we're on a one-way rail."

He casts his gaze over the gathered newcomers and grins. "I certainly imagine you'll get your chance to thump a lesson into them soon enough, and I'd be glad to stand together when it comes to it."

At the bar, Ned Boyle listens to Eddy's order with only a little confusion. "You mean American whiskey? Bourbon, like, from Kentucky? Sure." He hands the Brit a glass and listens to the assessment, then blinks. "Uh, sir. You do know we stock actual scotch?"

Since this post is fairly long, I'll break up moving us forward into a second one. If anyone wants to have done anything more this evening, just let me know; otherwise I'll assume you finish checking your weapons, perhaps take a stroll around town to learn where some places are, and get a place to stay, likely at the Grand Hotel at the recommendation of both Doc and Wyatt. Wyatt also invites you all to return to the Oriental the next morning, to pass some time and be ready for trouble.

The morning of October 26th, 1881, dawns pale and cold, a fine layer of frost on the brush found here and there in town. A clear but grayish sky sits overhead as our heroes make their way back to the Oriental Saloon, to meet up with the Earps and stand vigil for any trouble to come. Morgan Earp, a well-dressed man who looks to be perhaps thirty, is the only one of the brothers present when the group first arrives, and he greets them amiably, with a smile and an offer to play a game of billiard to pass the time.

The morning passes uneventfully, with some small talk and no sign of trouble. About noon, though, Virgil and Wyatt arrive. Both look sour and ready for trouble, and Morgan almost immediately approaches them, his own jovial mood fading away in moments. After a brief, muttered conference between the Earp brothers, Virgil turns to the posse and clears his throat.

"Ike Clanton is wandering the streets, all roostered up on cheap whiskey, and he's got himself a Winchester. He says he's looking for Doc Holliday or one of us 'bastard Earps,' probably gunning for a fight. We need him disarmed without a gunfight, and frankly, I don't know where the hell Holliday is or how long until he makes another poor move. You folks ready to get deputized and bring him in?"

By the time Virgil has said "without a gunfight", Eddy is already grabbing his hat from the hanger close to the door "Sir, I say sir, you got yourself a deputy. Now if you excuse me, we can leave bureaucracy for later, I sense a visage in dire need of knuckles not far away." he says with a half bow before placing his bowler hat and gesturing the rest, specially Biff, to come. "God bless this country, it never ceases to amaze me!" he says before going for the exit, whistling.