CadenGallic

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

- Benny
"I reckon' so! I mean, he put up Ricky Righter, that guy was serving a death sentence and they kept his last song on the records." The waitress continued to explain. The name was a familiar one. Ricky Righter's "Dead Man Speak" was a hot record, copies of it commanded prices over 20,000 Hds. "So long as ya don't go threatening him, I bet ol' Freddy would be glad to have you." she smiled pleasantly.

- Cal
The three remaining wanted posters gave him a general idea of the three targets.
Jaggy was a jagged toothed man with a fur collar coat, wanted for robbery and murder. Apparently he has a knack for cutting up bodies of his victims, before and after killing them. Wanted dead or alive.
Brett Rindstock was a moustachied man in a wide brimmed hat, smoking a cigar. He was once a member of a gang of robbers, since disbanded, wanted for his old crimes. Wanted alive.
Rhonda the Miscreant appeared as a dirty faced woman with ragged hair, brunette... she looked like she was in her 40s. According to the paper, she was wanted for association with a bandit gang and having gone on mad killing sprees since then. Wanted dead or alive.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

- Jaron and Glenn
The older gentlemen let out a wheezy laugh as he sat with them, the jovial attitude in the bar still surrounding them.
"Ya think a codger like me would try ta swindle two fellas with irons on their hips? Boy, where you think this is, Taurus?!" He laughed some more, banging the table with a fist before he stopped and briefly scratched his nose. "For pay, i'll just take another round of ale from the bar. Do me that, and i'll show ya this little trinket." From a coat pocket, he drew a piece of crumpled paper and flattened it out on the table. He covered the rest of it with his hands so they could just see the first line.
"Dear Libby." It read. Something Jaron would recognise quickly, the name of the daughter whom had run away with Abner. The old man had some legitimate proof, by the looks of it.

- Benny
"Ya don't know Freddy Beagle? As in, Lightning News Freddy Beagle, the radio show host?" The waitress asked, clearly confused someone wouldn't know such the name. "They call him the voice of Ravage. He gets musicians to play on his show all the time when he's not spinnin' records. Heck, some of em even get to print records an' sell em if the ratings are high!" She said chipperly, briefly absconding from the table to bring him back a glass with a bottle of the bar's best ale, only asking for 2 Hds and 50 Skls for it.

- Jack
"Cripes boy, you're so trigger happy it's working it's way into your nerves!" The sheriff joked in an honest fashion. His mustache leveled out with his mouth as they began to speak seriously. "Alright, good to hear. We got a lot of newcomers around today so keep yer eyes peeled just in case we get ourselves a brawl." He advised, tapping his foot slightly. "Now y'keep up the shooting when y'can but don't go putting holes in the windows agin. You know it's hard to replace on short notice." He headed out after that, leaving the deputy to his business.

- Simon
"Ahh, after that skeeving sunuva black devil, eh?" The bartender scoffed as he got Simon his glass and quickly swiped the money into a trouser pocket. "The man's an utter monster. Attacked a funeral procession and killed the lot of em, what I hear... if it's location you're after, I hear he's up north at the Happy Times Chapel. Place is long since abandoned." He continued, returning to glass polishing behind the bar.
From the wanted poster, Simon could get a little more perspective on Muldoon. The man was dressed in a black wide brimmed hat and was wearing priestly robes, but he bore a slight white beard and a withered face. Why this guy had the highest bounty on the wall, would be hard to see.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

@Alan Hawke Quite alright. I'll be sure to get around to everyone in a moment.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

- Benny
The piano player was glad for a little rest as the sound of the guitar took its place, filling up the bar and making the attitude just a little bit more jovial. Most of the patrons became a little rowdy with the tune but the atmosphere remained tolerable.
"Mind if I offer you a drink, sir?" A passing waitress motioned to him with a smile, young looking and pretty faced. "For skills like that, i'll give you half off. Hell, you could probably make a name for yourself if you went and found Freddy Beagle."
- Cal
"Your drink, sir." A waitress put down a glass and a bottle with two cubes of ice in it before she left him to drink. It cost him about 4 Hds and 50 Skls (Skulls.) Everything seemed normal in the saloon, except for the fellow playing his guitar nearby and getting quite a lot of attention. The bounty board was on the wall beside the bar if he wanted to take a look at that.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

@Sessamaru Mmm they seem to be offline atm. It's ok if you have to wait a bit.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

@General Scales Totally fine, we've only just gotten started, still time for you to intro in and make this a true hoe down.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

- Simon
The saloon goers paused a moment to give the newcomer a certain look... one of initial suspicion. Whilst no-one around him could match him in terms of dirty looks, he recieved a few that could intimidate a yella bellied sapsucker. But seeing as how Simon was NOT one of these, it would hardly affect him. Regardless of the situation, the piano player providing a comfortable tune to the place, continued to play on as if nothing had happened.

The bounty board was quite prevalent that day, a grand total of four different bounties one could pursue, with the exception of Abnar having been taken down. Each one had a picture of the wanted man or woman and came with the price, presented in Heads (Hds.)

Jaggy - 100 Hds
Brett Rindstock - 130 Hds
Rhonda the Miscreant - 170 Hds
Mourner Muldoon - 250 Hds

- Jack
"Still trying to turn the place into a pepper pot, son?" A somewhat aged voice asked from behind him as a familiar figure stepped out to greet him. Sheriff Mullins, the kindly individual who governed the town stood before him. He was a generally nice fella, befitting a town as sleepy and quiet as this, even taking on a man like Jack at the drop of a hat as deputy. The man bore an impressive brown handlebar mustache and equally impressive eyebrows. Always found in that wide brimmed white hat of his and his rich red coat, volcanic pistol at his hip, the man may have been a bit old but he was still probably the most skilled shot in town.
"I keep telling ya, ya hold the thing too hard when ya draw it. Gotta ease off a little, nice and smooth y'know." He advised with a brash smile on his face, always there for his faithful deputy.

- Glenn and Jaron
"You boys after Abner, eh?" A ragged looking individual approached them, greasy black hair and a nasty horseshoe mustache on his face. "I figure I could be helpin' you two out fer a price. I know where Abner ran off to with that purdy dame." He offered the two. His breath reeked of alcohol.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

@Alan Hawke By the time we get into the actual plot? This'll be small potatoes, hombre~

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

@Alan Hawke I am, if nothing else, filled with ideas of varying quality.

@Nevix

Considering how this is going, do you mind if I play Abner just so this can be more interesting for the pair of you? I mean if you want to, that's fine too.

Old Glory (Western/Sci-fi)

10:13 AM, 26th of June, 2502.

The little quiet town of Primafrontier, one of the very first towns to be formed in Ravage after the 12 major cities settled. It was formed by the poor of one of the bigger cities, seeking their own place in life away from the larger picture. And so they made it. A simple little town of families, law abiders and decent businessmen. It seldom got more nieve than Primafrontier.

The town itself was mostly built with Slakestone, cheap and easy housing with wooden shutters. The saloon was their primary form of income from weary travelers stopping to drink or take it nice and easy. They had an apothecary who doubled as a doctor for the bigger incidents and if anyone needed a cure for poisoning or a broken leg. They had a post office that would recieve from the Bridgeington postal service, still the best service in all of Ravage. They had a small farm too, your average selection of cattle and a couple of fields of crops that needed water very often. Whilst Ravage was a dry as hell desert, it did get the occasional spot of rain.

In this sleepy little town, a man could find himself a good drink and good company. A man could settle and relax... or, a man could seek out why so many of the buildings seem to have bullet holes cracked into them as of late...