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@Blenheim Great post! I like how you’re depicting him, being from the bad lands like he is. I love how diverse thr group is and how expressive you’re all being with that.

I do intend to forward the story either today or tomorrow. You guys can always post a retrospective conversation if you want to but the show must go on!
@Dark Light Fun post!


I would like to hear more.
I ended my post at the end of the same day everybody else is on. Consider everything I've done up until now to be in the past. It didn't seem right to crash in on you guys during the day.
West Elizabeth
Tall Trees
Pacific Union Railroad Camp


Transitioned to...

New Austin
Cholla Springs
Armadillo - At Twilight


The journey was an uncomfortable one for the fugitive named Hubbard. His leg felt like it had been broken but there was no bone poking through. Savage didn't seem much concerned about it. Then again, Savage didn't seem overly concerned about much. They talked little during the ride to the Union Pacific cam,p. Eventually they did arrive to the small collection of wooden buildings.

A few people eyed Savage warily as they rode in. One of them, a deputy, touched the brim of his hat and called out to him.

"Looking worse for wear. Old man give you some trouble?"

Savage didn't like to advertise his weakness but there was a clear hole in each sleeve and a small but ragged tear on the back of his duster.

"Damn near had to break his leg to get him to come along," Savage called back, smiling. "He's wily for an old guy."

"What happened to the others?"

"What others?"

At this point, the deputy began to walk to keep up with them. Savage squinted for a moment then turned to smile back at him.

"Four of you went out to get him. Where are the other three?"

Savage shrugged then said, "Do you remember what happened to them, Hubbard?"

The fugitive tensed up and took in a breath. He looked at Savage then lowered his eyes, not meeting the law man's gaze. After a moment, he said, "We got ambushed on the way out... When the others went down, he got me on a horse and we got away together."

"Oh yeah," the deputy said, raising an eyebrow. "How come he was the only one able to get away, huh?"

"I don't know," Hubbard snapped. "Got my horse shot out from under me twice! Broke my damn leg in the fall. I'm just happy to be alive."

"Leave him alone," Savage warned. "He's mine until I turn him in."

"Sure," the Deputy said, shaking his head. It wasn't clear if he bought Hubbard's story or not. "So, where did you guys find him?" Hubbard glanced nervously at Savage.

"Tall Trees... on his way North toward Strawberry. Said he was going home." Hubbard relaxed and lowered his head again. "See you later, Deputy."

The lawman smirked and shook his head. He stopped following them, though. Not long after that, Savage dismounted and tied up the horses by a trough of water. He helped Hubbard down and, while keeping a firm hold on his still bound hands, helped him to walk to their destination. The fugitive seemed surprised when they turned away from the little building the Sherif was using as a base.

"It's been a long ride," Savage said, a sly smile on his face. "Now it's time to scratch your back a little before turning you over."

This confused and intrigued the man long enough for them to reach the back of a different building. By then, he seemed to realize something was really wrong.

"Hey, wait... This is-"

"Relax," Savage said before knocking hard on the door. When it opened, the man that they saw made the old fugitive yell out and try to pull away. Savage chuckled and held him fast until a burly fellow came out of the buliding, grabbed Hubbard and slammed him against the wall. He shut the man up with a hand against his mouth.

"Oh, I've waited for this," said the first man they saw, an older gentleman who very clearly worked for the rail company. "Take him inside."

"Hold on there," Savage snapped, hand reaching reflexively for his gun. "You're not abiding the deal." For a moment, the three men near him froze and tensed, ready for the dramatic twist. "Payment first."

The old man laughed and said, "Wait right here." He stepped into the building and, after a moment, returned with a roll of bills fresh from the mint. He handed it to Savage and asked, "Satisfied?"

Savage nodded to the man and slipped the money into an inner pocket on his duster then turned to leave. Hubbard tried to yell hateful things at his back but his voice was muffled. He vanished into the building a moment later.

On his way back to the main road, intent on having something to drink and eat and finding a place to rest, he saw the deputy standing by his horse. The sherif was standing at the other side of the road, just watching them.

"Where'd Hubbard go?"

"Who," Savage said, turning instead to untie then mount his own horse.

"Don't play games with me, son. What did you do with him?"

"We're not related."

"Where is he?"

"Resting."

By now, the deputy was once again walking to keep up with him.

"And just where are you going?"

"Am I under arrest?"

"That depends on how you answer me. Hold up!"

"No. I'm under arrest or I'm not. I don't feel like talking now."

"H-hey! Stop, I said-"

"See you around!"

The deputy continued to yell into his dust as Savage rode away at a stiff pace, making for the river crossing. He was in a bit of a bad mood. His arm still hurt and he needed more provisions but the lawmen were getting too nosey for his liking. So he would make for a place where people didn't ask so many questions.

He made a stop at MacFarlane's ranch and bartered for a night of rest, supplies and care for his horse. He was tempted to pay for two nights but his instincts told him to ride on a bit farther. If he wasn't in such a need for supplies he would have rode wide around the ranch so as not to leave so much of a trail. Nothing really happened and in the morning he set off into the desert.

Night was fast approaching by the time he saw the dusty boomtown of Armadillo. Just before that, however, he heard the report of gunfire. This earned a soft 'hum' from him. The town never seemed to change. The sun would be just about to set by the time he made it to the town proper, which was fine for him. The fading light did funny things to people's eyes. Hopefully he would be seen as just another nobody drifting in on the winds. Of course, he would be angling for the saloon once he dismounted...
Well... I mean... I get the feeling you already know how I feel on it.
Edon Wolf
Outskirts of Curilan
Ethora


The journey was largely uneventful. Varian had chosen his path with a surprisingly amount of reservation. Edon seemed pleased with his tact even if he kept to himself during camp. While camping, he kept his equipment cleaned and tidy and kept himself trimmed, shaved and clean. In fact, he took extra care to ensure that his clothing and overall presentation was fit for a nobleman. He was early to bed and early to rise and carried out his night watch with stoic silence - when Varian ordered a night watch, that is. By the time they reached the fort, Edon looked little changed from the first day they stood together outside the gates of Dalenham.

Before they made their final approach to the fort, Edon had found a spot to stow his travel gear. He meticulously checked over his combat gear and made himself ready for a fight. Knowing that they were going to be fighting in close quarters inside an old ruined fort, he decided against bringing his halberd. He was better with the longsword anyway. The last thing he did to get ready was to strap a one-hour torch to his back and fasten a modest length of sturdy twine rope to his belt just in case.

Even if the fort was a run-down piece of shit, it had a good position. Varian identified a blind spot and Edon nodded slowly.

"I am going in at the blind spot," he said. Edon seemed like he wanted to say more, but Varian's words were, essentially, a go-ahead to start the raid. Instead, he looked over to Drosten and nodded before donning his helmet. In the next moment, Edon had moved up the rest of the small hill and was running across the field toward the crumbling fortress. His eyes scanned the walls and the windows as he moved, looking for any potential threats. If anything revealed itself on his way in, he would make it his personal life goal to end them rightly just as quickly as he could get to them.

As Varian said a week ago - Edon was there to start the assault and ensure the rest of them could get in safely. He probably wasn't going to be the first one into the heart of the fort as his goal was to secure the walls.
Okay, the new post is up! I didn't want to go too far but you guys are now at the trade station. Feel free to post some reactions to anything that happened along the way. Post as much or as little as you like, as always, but I am looking forward to how your characters react to these conditions!

All of you have been invited to a new private conversation with me in PMs. I am still deciding how I want to do this but for right now the results of rolls will be sent to players directly. Consider it a private matter between player and GM. To me, dice are always a touchy subject and I treat them like a personal affair. Feel free to ask me any questions you might have about the rolls in the new conversation.

These rolls are here to add flavor and spice straight from the dice. Please use them as inspiration. I have a standing policy to never tell a player what to post but I hope you will take these results as a way to flesh out your characters through their good times and bad times.
On the Poor Man's Road...

Eventually, the group sorted themselves out. Or, at the very least, agreed to slumber in peace until morning. Unfortunately, they would find little peace during the night.

That night, a summer storm swept over the Lowlands as a high pressure wave made its way inland from the Narrow sea toward the high mountains and plateaus of the Highlands. Clouds heavy with moisture began losing their composure as they gained distance from the warm, volcanically active waters where they originated. The group was caught in the middle of this as rain fell from the skies in a sudden brief torrent.

These rains were common in the region. The waters around Terrenum were known for being rather warm.

Flash flooding and stiff winds wrecked the camp, forcing the group to find firmer land. The storm only lasted a couple hours but it was enough to drench everybody and force them to either start a fire to dry off or sleep soggy.

For anybody who decided to accept the Safety of the Traveler (except for Nemeia), the night was peaceful. They would have warm, relatively clean beds and be prompted to tell stories by the elites who owned and operated the vast walled farms and plantations. In the morning, they would be offered a meal and mead at a fair rate before setting out to rejoin their companions.

During the next day, the roads would have become a muddy mess, forcing the party to travel off the main paths or risk being bogged down. They made poor time and intermittent showers harassed them along the way. Considering how poor the weather had become, it became clear that everybody would benefit more from a forced march to the trade station rather than risk being caught in another downpour.

Luckily, they had little to contest their progress even if it was slow and messy. There were few other people on the roads and it seemed even the animals had retreated to wait out the storms. While they would arrive at the walled trade post exhausted, muddy and soaking wet, they would do so safely.

It was just as well that they had pushed hard during the day. Even as they passed the open gates and the bundled up, sullen-looking guards, lightning streaked across the sky as yet another storm was on its way in. Finding the inn wasn't difficult either. Normally, in a town this small, there wouldn't even be an inn. However, this was a trading post which catered specifically to travelers. The inn was named "The Muddy Ghoul Inn" and, luckily, also served food and drink.

The night belonged to them, even if it did rain the whole time. The day would be beautiful with barely a cloud in the sky, as if mocking their tough walk all the way from Gallant. They could do as they pleased during the night but few of the buildings would be open and going out would mean becoming drenched once again.
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