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Inactive [Play-by-post] Three Lonely Graves

ERYFKRAD

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Strap Yourselves In Serpent in the Staglands Shadorwun: Hong Kong Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Steve gets a Kidney but I don't even get a tag. Pathfinder: Wrath I'm very into cock and ball torture I helped put crap in Monomyth
"Is this quite necessary? What a frightful situation!"
"Now, personally speaking, I'm a fightin man threw and threw. I ain't been for squeezin' blood outta rocks like this. But even s'I know you gotta crack a clam by breaking it wide open."
 

SoupNazi

Guest
Sanchez comes to, and it takes him a while to fully comprehend the situation. Cocking an eyebrow at Bill's idea of what's to come next, he spits some dry blood down on the rotting floor and sighs.

"You realize I'm just a hired gun, right? I gots no stakes in whatever it is y'all got goin' with Annabelle Hawkins, or anybody else."

He looks between the seemingly more sensible part of his captors, then back at Bill.

"And I gots no qualms tellin' y'all what I know, either. Gimme your questions and I'll give y'all the answers, if I know'em."

Beads of sweat appear on the man's face, he's definitely scared and nervous, but seems to think that being forthcoming might save his life - and the integrity of his body parts.

Nevermind, missed a post.
 
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Major_Blackhart

Codexia Lord Sodom
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Bill walks over slowly to the terrified mexican, away from the man's bleeding face and down to his feet. He pulls his boots off one by one, slowly. Then the thick woolen socks the man wears underneath. Without looking up, he responds to the newcomer 'Roy'.

"We lost a good woman, an' while it ain' this feller's fault, he didn't help none. We gots a score ta settle with his boss some, an I aim ta get answers. This is the best way I knows here."

He takes a knife and slowly begins cutting into the heel of the man's left foot. These are light sawing swipes at first, just enough to peel back the thick layer of callouses that line the man's heel. When he gets down to that layer of raw red flesh, where thin pinpoint droplets of red liquid begin pooling out of the skin, he stops. He does the same to the right heel now.

These motions aren't hesitant or subtle. They're slow, but methodical and even machine-like. It's obvious to everyone he's done this before, his attention brought entirely to the task at hand, like some savant might be with a problem of mathematical magnitude. With careful precision, he peels back the layers of callous, then skin, stopping again at that layer of raw red flesh.

"Well, this smarts something fierce, I knows. Injuns done it ta me onst. Now, they didn't do the next part."

Sanchez is crying out with muffled gasps and muted howls, the pain in his mouth overwhelming his desire to bellow and rip through his own lips. Bill stands for a moment, then sits back. This time with salt in hand.

"I reckon ya cain't see what's comin' next pard, on account a' bein' on yer belly like yous are, facin' aways from me. So's I tells ya what's comin' next. I's takin this here handfulls a salt and rubbin it all over yer heels."

And Bill did just that, with rough hands and violent motions, not stopping until both heels were caked in the stuff, a pink sandy nightmare of pain and stinging agony. He smiled but didn't cackle with his usual mountain man mirth. He then puts the socks back on the mexican's feet and stands up.

"If'n either a' you folks wants ta give him a quick kick in tha heels, well you's all can do so now. 'Lows me ta remonstrate."

To demonstrate, Bill applies with his own heavy boots a goodly amount of pressure to the left heel, increasing it slowly. Sanchez struggles in agony beneath.
 

Major_Blackhart

Codexia Lord Sodom
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Sanchez comes to, and it takes him a while to fully comprehend the situation. Cocking an eyebrow at Bill's idea of what's to come next, he spits some dry blood down on the rotting floor and sighs.

"You realize I'm just a hired gun, right? I gots no stakes in whatever it is y'all got goin' with Annabelle Hawkins, or anybody else."

He looks between the seemingly more sensible part of his captors, then back at Bill.

"And I gots no qualms tellin' y'all what I know, either. Gimme your questions and I'll give y'all the answers, if I know'em."

Beads of sweat appear on the man's face, he's definitely scared and nervous, but seems to think that being forthcoming might save his life - and the integrity of his body parts.

I've sewed Sanchez' lips shut SoupNazi . Just write his horror.
 

ERYFKRAD

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Strap Yourselves In Serpent in the Staglands Shadorwun: Hong Kong Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Steve gets a Kidney but I don't even get a tag. Pathfinder: Wrath I'm very into cock and ball torture I helped put crap in Monomyth
"This is quite beastly. Just ghastly..."
Hardtack grabs Fauntleroy by his poultry free shoulder and whirls about to face him. "Now you listen here yer dandyship. It be all well and good to stands about and flutta yer eyes like some swooning dame about the things we stoopin" down to, but ye best be doin' that from the comfort and safety of yer fine and fancy summer villa or whatever the hell you crawled out of. This ain't the east, hell this ain't even America no more. The only law that will save you is the iron you gits by your silky pocket. There ain't no need o' squeamish men out heah, nor of a man that thinks twice of doing what gots to be done. Is this beastly? Aye, but we damn near beasts out heah. Is it ghastly? Sure but if you hold back you a ghast yourself.

I says again, yer fancy clothin' and smart talkin' ain't gonna save ya if ya ain't fixing to do what gots to be done. I says it so you get it in that head under yer dandy hat that you gotta be hard as hardtack to bite through, or this place gonna chew you up an' spit you out while you whistle Dixie. I says it once, and I says it as a friend. Don't make me say it agin."
 
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SoupNazi

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...

To demonstrate, Bill applies with his own heavy boots a goodly amount of pressure to the left heel, increasing it slowly. Sanchez struggles in agony beneath.

Sanchez lets out throaty screams throughout the entire ordeal, even if is lips are sewn shut, some noise still makes it out. He sounds like a wounded bear, or how a man would try to speak if his throat was shot and full of razors. The tortured man twitches and fights the rope that ties him down, until the salt is applied.

The man then lets the stitches rip and bellows something between a mighty roar and a panicked scream, before passing out as blood rapidly flows from his lips.
 

Stella Brando

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Fauntleroy vomits on the ground.

"You maniacs can have your rotten frontier! I'm going back East. At least we don't torture men for sport!"

Fauntleroy Willoughyby-Spottingwoode exits stage right.
 

Stella Brando

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As a final act of mercy, Fauntelroy performs a coup de grace (and he's the kind of man who would pronounce this correctly) on the tortured man.

Thus ends the very short adventures of Fauntleroy Willoughby-Spottingwoode in the wild west.
 

SoupNazi

Guest
Somewhere in purgatory, Sanchez is probably thanking the strange Easterner for granting him one last mercy. The shack turns eerily quiet once the ringing from the close quarters gunshot stops.
 

SoupNazi

Guest
As the dust settles and Fauntelroy is a few yards away, south from the shack (on foot), an odd noise echoes over the hill in the north. Soon enough, as it gets closer, the noise is recognizable as Indian chanting. Through the cracks in the wood in the shack, the posse can see silhouettes approaching over the hill - first the decorative feathers, then their heads, and their weapons ready, seemingly on their way to investigate the gunshot. It's a warband of the Coyote Confederation! Must be one of the semi-independent tribes of Sioux warriors, who under a clear, strong leadership, continue the age-old tradition of raiding enemy outposts - perhaps they were on their way to see if Santa Fe is weakened enough for some pillaging after the Marauder attack - either way, now they are coming the way of the shack!

upload_2021-7-15_16-33-32.png
 

SoupNazi

Guest
As the posse notices the approaching warband, Hardtack remembers something from his Navy days - the stories of an older sea wolf, who fought in some of the Indian wars of yore. The deserted sailor recalls about how outside of actual war and blood feuds, the Natives were rarely interested in straight up murdering the white faces - indeed, they knew that could bring the wrath of an entire army upon them. And especially now, when the tribes were loosely united under the flag of the Coyote Confederation, it was rare for them to start something that they couldn't finish there and then. Despite Coyote's leadership being very hands-off, it was still implored upon them not to start a war with an entire nation.

Mulling it over, Hardtack encourages Bill to go and talk to them - as the only member of the party who speaks Native - and Bill does so, extending his arms in a traditional greeting that shows he is armed, but does not plan on using the weapon. The warband halts in its steps a few yards out and spreads out in a semi-circle, partially encircling the shack and the Mountain man. The most decorated Native then walks out of the semi-circle to meet Bill half-way. He does not speak, and just jerks his head upwards at Bill, then crosses his arms with expectations.
 

Major_Blackhart

Codexia Lord Sodom
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Bill lowers his hand as the the warchief motions with his jaw at him. He still makes sure to keep his right hand away from the barrel of his Hawken rifle. He begins conversing with the painted warrior in his native tongue. He does not smile nor frown as he speaks, but keeps his face blank and unreadable.

"It is a good day for a war party," Bill begins. "We were part of the group that protected Santa Fe from the raiders. They were led by a man named Skull, and were driven back. Many of the protectors are dead. What would you know further?"
 

SoupNazi

Guest
The War Chief looks Bill up and down again, then back towards his warriors. Then back at Bill. He narrows his eyes.

"I am Arrow Flies Straight. I did not come to know. We come to take."

He lifts one arm, and several of the natives on the outside of the semi-circle notch their arrows and draw, though they don't shoot yet.

"All of your things--"

Before Arrows Flies Straight can finish his demand, a strange sight interrupts everyone from what they are doing. A plainly dressed man with a walking stick, surrounded by a flock of sheep, comes in from the west fields. He has a scruffy, light beard, and an unassuming smile on his face. While Ewan Wolsely walks up with the ship, he's singing to himself absent-mindedly: "La dee dah, la la la la la fiddle dee dee... Who are you strangers, that trample all over god's green earth?"

Hardtack uses the slight distraction to concoct a plan. He turns to Isaac and gives him all his money, as well as any other valuables Isaac can carry, and just tells him to run for Santa Fe. Isaac immediately understands and complies, however, straight out of the shack's door he stumbles and creates a bit of a ruckus, which is noticed by the tribe. Two of the natives separate from their group and run off, potentially in chase of Isaac...


Arrow Flies Straight looks at Ewan with an expression that says that if he could stab with his eyes, he would. There's a quick signal to his tribe and before anyone can react, an arrow escapes on the bowmen's fingers, and lands straight in one of Ewan's flock's side. The sheep baaws in pain and nearly collapses, but seems to be alive. The natives do not seem like they want to continue the fight, however; perhaps it was just a warning shot?
 

ERYFKRAD

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Strap Yourselves In Serpent in the Staglands Shadorwun: Hong Kong Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Steve gets a Kidney but I don't even get a tag. Pathfinder: Wrath I'm very into cock and ball torture I helped put crap in Monomyth
Hardtack takes in the situation with alacrity drummed into him by several sergeants.

Realizing the odds are stacked heavily against them, he puts his hopes into what he hopes is their best option.

"I heard talk of Arrow Flies Straight. The Ojbwe tell so many tales of him. That if he is the best and mightiest of the Sioux warriors the Ojibwe would take their lands a thousand times over, if not for how they run from every fight under his guidance and leadership. How his bravest warriors are as women in any other tent, and how he will not face even one single man in open combat by himself."

He looks at Arrow and smirks," Now I always reck'n Ojibwe to be no more'n a bunch of lying snakes, but I suppose a lying snake can still spit truth every now and then. Look at yourself, Arrow Flies Straight. You know, one of us happened to have run out to town, and live or die he will carry the tale of the great Arrow who with great courage sent twenty men to rob three ragged strangers in the middle of nowhere. Unless, you dare face me, blade to blade like a true man."

A quick look to Bill,"Translate this pardner, and not a word outta place, ya hear me?"
 

SoupNazi

Guest
Arrow Flies Straight turns to Hardtack and takes measure. He suddenly seems very pleased, and it is clear that he in fact understands English - and speaks it too. The man gives another signal to his tribe, and you all note that for some barbaric tribesmen, they are very well trained, almost soldier-like in their discipline.

"Very well. What is the name of this white face?" he points at Hardtack, responding in fairly fluent, if imperfect, English. The rest of his tribesmen move up and start creating a square in the middle of the field while the conversation is allowed to continue.
 

ERYFKRAD

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Strap Yourselves In Serpent in the Staglands Shadorwun: Hong Kong Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Steve gets a Kidney but I don't even get a tag. Pathfinder: Wrath I'm very into cock and ball torture I helped put crap in Monomyth
Arrow Flies Straight turns to Hardtack and takes measure. He suddenly seems very pleased, and it is clear that he in fact understands English - and speaks it too. The man gives another signal to his tribe, and you all note that for some barbaric tribesmen, they are very well trained, almost soldier-like in their discipline.

"Very well. What is the name of this white face?" he points at Hardtack, responding in fairly fluent, if imperfect, English. The rest of his tribesmen move up and start creating a square in the middle of the field while the conversation is allowed to continue.
"My names is Jack Costigan, Arrow Flies straight. If you honour my challenge and I win, I will speak to every end of the Earth that the Ojibwe are lying snakes, and that Arrow Flies Straight is a true brave. If I lose, Arrow, I will have lost to the better, and no more need be said."
 

Stella Brando

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Ewan Wolsely stops to watch the strange goings on.
“It’s an old challenge -- like in the days of David and Goliath."
"Baaa." says Saturday.
 

SoupNazi

Guest
The Sacrificed Sabre


Hearing Hardtack out, Arrow Flies Straight gladly accepts the challenge with a smile. In his heart, he feels he is the chosen warrior, and the man's honor does not allow him to back down. With a few gestures to his tribesmen, a dueling square is made: The majority of the savages spread out to ensquare Hardtack and Arrow Flies Straight, while a few of them flank Bill Williamson to ensure both that the duel is fair, and that the man does not run away like their other accomplice, Isaac, was instructed to.

Somewhere in the distance, a flock of crows croak. Vultures in the distance fly out in anticipation, making their way to the duel site, as if directed by the expectation of blood and death. Arrow Flies Straight is holding a ceremonial, decorated club in one hand, with a tomahawk that has several bright red feathers tied to it in the other. The imposing Sioux stands in the middle of the dueling square, with wide shoulders, a well-defined, bare chest, and his head slightly lowered. An antithesis to Hardtack's casual anger, who walks in with just the sabre in hand, almost uncaring, save for the white knuckles gripping his sword. Both men know they are entering a private battlefield only one of them is likely to leave; both determined to be the one to walk away.

JVksIey.jpg

Arrow's tribesmen begin chanting an encouraging Indian song, encouraging their leader in the fight. Bill Williamson gives it a thought, then himself starts bellowing a savage song of the death of a great leader, who lost a battle with a mountain. A song of arrogance and stupidity, about how a single leader cost his tribe everything. It is however nearly lost in the overbearing chant of fifteen natives chanting an ode to a blood feud, honor, and wild melee.

The chief of the tribe begins the first attack, swinging one weapon after another, but Hardtack skillfully dodges to the side and then back, creating space between the two combatants. The response is immediate and brutal - Hardtack steps forward with a roar worthy of beast, not a man, and slashes Arrow Flies Straight across the chest, giving him a massive wound leading from his left shoulder all the way to the right side of the native's belly. The man is caught offguard by the ferocity of Hardtack's attack and tries to fight back, but misses his retort. In the background, Bill stamps his feet in the rhythm with his death song, continuing to attempt to make his voice be heard in the chants.

For a few moments, the two warriors dance around each other, testing one another's limits with wild swings, stabs and even punches, but nothing seems to connect, until Hardtack draws blood again, but only with a shallow wound on the Sioux leader's forearm. The man opposite him just smirks, and dedicates his full power to another attack with both weapons at once. While Arrow's club is skillfully deflected by Hardtack, the tomahawk connects, inflicting a major wound on his left thigh. Boldened by the wound, the Navy deserter retorts with a much deadlier strike at the Chief's neck, but the man manages to take a step back just in time so that the end of Hardtack's sabre merely singes his neck, resulting in what will probably be a nasty scar, but far from an incapacitating wound.

Recklessly, Arrow Flies Straight again uses both weapons to attack Hardtack, but as he sweats and his own blood makes his hand wet, the ceremonial club slips out of his hand, flying past Hardtack - who skillfully dodges it - and falls into the dirt. The native warrior uses this to his advantage, however, and goes in with the tomahawk, hurting the pale face further. The pain drives Hardtack on, but also reckless - and his next swing with the sabre just barely grazes his opponent. This throws them both off, as the warriors move back and forth and dance together like two wolves fighting for patriarchy, not really wanting to hurt each other too badly out of mutual respect. Finally, Hardtack musters his strength and fury and takes another wild swing at Arrow Flies Straight, cutting his thigh badly.

The savage quickly recovers from the major slash and leaps forward like a panther, burying his tomahawk into Hardtack's collar bone. With his other hand free of the club, Arrow smashes the blunt end, cracking the bone and pushing the weapon down into Hardtack's heart. With the blood still flowing through him from the last few beats fueled by adrenaline, Hardtack lifts his weapon arm high in the air, his teeth gritted, grinding against each other, eyes bulging and narrowed in one, final, push for an attack... but life escapes him, and the decorated sabre slips out of his hands, turns in the air, and buries itself neatly point-end first in the ground. The entire tribe falls silent in awe, as both Arrow Flies Straight and Hardtack fall to their knees, the latter supporting his opponent by the shoulders. A respectful nod is given, as Hardtack manages a few last words.

"True..." Hardtack coughs blood, "Brave..."
There is a moment of silence as the warriors understand each other.
"Never doubt... again."

Once Hardtack closes his eyes, Arrow Flies Straight reaches into the open cavity of his rival's chest and rips his heart out, lifting it up above his head - while still using his free hand to support the defeated warrior from falling. The native leader then bites into Hardtack's heart, and speaks to his warriors: "Arrow Flies Straight now holds the strength of Jack Costigan the Wild. Forever more."

Gently, he then lays Hardtack's lifeless body onto the grass, and nearly collapses out of exhaustion.

The tribe look warily at Bill and Ewan, but retreat eventually behind their Chief. They all bow their head respectfully to Hardtack's body as they pass him, nodding and giving rites of passage on the way. Eventually, they are all lined up, and one of the younger tribesmen collects Arrow's ceremonial club, returning it to him. Their leader then calls upon one of them, receives a satchel, and walks with it towards Bill.

"Your Champion fought well, and with his blood, paid for all your lives. We go home. I have collected his spirit, here, you receive Jack Costigan's body--"

He passes the satchel to Bill with reverence, and nods.

"For as long as you are honorable warriors, no Coyote might accost you, just show them this artifact."

The satchel holds a golden replica of a human's heart. Bill may estimate it's worth at least 1,600 dollars based on weight alone. Whatever he may say or do, the natives then walk back, wary of their flank, but intent on leaving.

Bill and Ewan are left on the battlefield alone, Hardtack's body surrounded by a pool of blood, his chest wide open. The blood stained sabre stands tall in the ground, a symbol of the man's sacrifice for the group, as surely they would have been robbed of all their possessions at best, if not killed at worst, had Hardtack not chosen the honorable duel. And indeed, the vultures are now circling above the group, as the wind howls as if mourning the death of a warrior, and the silhouettes of the natives disappear beyond the hill . . .
 
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SoupNazi

Guest
A while after things calm down, and once the Sioux warband along with their leader are gone, Isaac is rushing back along with a ragtag group of townsfolk armed with scythes, shovels, and a few with repeating rifles he managed to recruit for a quick help, even though it was likely a suicidal mission, some of them could not refuse the call of a Hero of Santa Fe. As soon as it is revealed to be a moot point, however, they drift back towards town, slightly disappointed but relieved at the same time.

Everyone, including Hardtack's Spirit, received 400 XP for the endeavor. No loot to be recovered other than the skull, if you want to sell it you probably can, but no XP (this you already received).
 

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