Requiem for the West

Rabbit almost wins


I am here at the behest of the Heirophant, amongst this throng of food and scatterings of other hunters. The sheriff seemed polite enough but the lack of graciousness in providing passage to Denver sticks in my throat, but I have grown accustomed to the uselessness of governments in providing for their soldiers.

While preparing accomodations for my travel, I was observed by one of our kind despite concealing myself in the fabric of night. He tipped his hat to me and presented me with an offer of information in tracking our targets, and introduced himself as Mr. Worth. While I am a fan of the hunt, I am not one to pass up the assistance of others in making the task easier, and it seemed that Mr. Worth and his companion, Mr. Archibald, were offering information. It did, in fact, make the task of finding them easier as we were outwitted in a scheme that would have made Rabbit proud. I should know by now that when the white man offers help with one hand, there’s usually a knife in the other.

Mr. Worth and Mr. Archibald will prove a formidable pair with their penchant for vanishing from a fight, but the Skinner brothers are no longer in the picture, and it seems that after only one evening, we are well on our way to completing our task of bringing justice to this group of Southern criminals. The Skinner brothers were a challenge, largely because the assistance of Mr. Archibald and the brothers own unique abilities rendered the Irishman useless. Mr. Worth diverted my attention while the brothers went after the plainspoken prairie girl. Some well placed shots from my bow, the girl’s claws, and a knife attack from Irishman dispatched one of the Skinner brothers, but then things went badly as the remaining brothers went mad with grief, and I had to remove myself from the purview of the group or risk having my head blown off. As the Irishman ran, the brothers beat the girl into submission. Some well placed shots from my bow incapacitated another of the brothers, releasing the Irishman from his terror, and we had soon dispatched the third. We were pleased at still having one of the brothers to bring in for questioning, but that is when Mr. Archibald reappeared and put that opportunity out of our hands, only to have Mr. Worth hide him immediatley afterwards. We were left with three ash piles, some clothing, a bit of cash, a teddy bear, and a poster for a saloon called the Grizzly Rose.

The sheriff, though pleased that we had brought an end to 3 of the 12, was less than forthcoming with rewards and made us haggle for a train ride and a place to stay when we hit Denver. My companions were more upset by this than I, for my dealings with white authority – live and dead -usually have resulted in rewards that are worth far less than the effort expended to gain them. We await a fourth member of our hunting party, and then we shall head off into the West in search of our remaining prey.


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