Feelin' Lucky?

Three unlikely allies try their hand at vampire hunting.

The rich, fertile farmlands at the heart of America include the territories of the Dakotas, Kansas and Oklahoma.
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Colt Carson
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Sat Jan 20, 2018 7:47 pm

The telegraph wires running along the length of the Omera-Trak had been cut, courtesy of Athan and his degenerate low-lives. And so it was up to Colt Carson, Holden Precistone, and Lora Campbell to make the trip to Pamazoo on horseback and inform the locals of the incident. Colt used Skylark, while Holden and Lora were permitted to use other horses that were being transported, provided they did not have their own.

Because the train had not arrived in time, the marshal at Pamazoo, as well as the Omera-Trak associates there, mustered a posse to investigate the delay. The trio would meet this posse and inform them of the raid, to which the posse would ride on out and assist the passengers. Colt and his two allies had done all they could do, and so on to Pamazoo they went.

Pamazoo was a moderately-sized town. At one point it served as a hub for silver miners. But even after the mines were dried up a number of cattle ranchers, horse wranglers, and farmers took advantage of the fertile, open plains, so Pamazoo kept on truckin'. Omera-Trak passengers commonly used the settlement as a resting point; as long the train kept running by the town, Pamazoo would persist.

Most of Pamazoo's main attractions lay on the main street. It ran east to west, parallel to the east-west Omera-Trak railroad. As the trio came in from the east, the train station sit on the lefthand (or southside of the road), while the gunsmith, general store, jail, bank, saloon, hotel, church, and doctor, straddled the righthand (or northside of the road). A smaller street cut northward off the east-west street, leading to a corral, storage yard, school, and houses.

Most of the town's men crowded the saloon. Those of higher social standing resided at the hotel, often mingling with gamblers who plied their trades in the lobby. The marshal and his deputies watched from their posts as various men, women - even dwarves carried about their daily business. The streets were not crowded, but they were certainly busy.

"Reckon I need some silver bullets, hm?" Colt said plainly. "I'll be at the gunsmith." Without another word the old Union cavalryman led his horse to the hitching post just outside his destination. Holden and Lora were free to do as they pleased.
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Holden Precistone
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Sun Jan 21, 2018 9:45 pm

It was obvious the train was not going to continue onward to its destination immediately considering the braking system which had ruined a few tracks in the process. His delivery was still to be made but doing so in person now would be impossible considering the current events. He had other concerns and an aching shoulder that Ms. Campbell had been kind enough to see to until he was able to get to the doctor. It had been the reason he had borrowed a horse and accompanied the two into town.

The ghastly creature as he referred to it as, was too big, too loud, and made a rather obnoxious ride as it jolted him in the saddle. Most of the comments had been made under his breath and in dwarven as he held onto the reigns for dear life attempting to keep control. Thankfully they’d given him an older mare with a good temperament that would not bicker with his own bickering at her.

Arriving in town with his companions Colt mentioned heading to the smithy in order to obtain the bullets that he would need. “I need to stop by there as well but I’ll see to getting this shoulder taken care of first.”

Slipping down from the horse with a large ‘oomph’ he landed on his feet. There were small blessings in life and that was one of them as the distance hadn’t seemed pleasant as he dropped down off the saddle. Glancing to Ms. Campbell he would go to assist her off her horse if she needed it. He may have lacked some height but his strength made up his vertical challenges.
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Lora Campbell
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Thu Jan 25, 2018 2:34 am

While Nature ceded to the will of the witch, animals typically did not, and Lora had come to despise horses. They knew what she was, could sense something otherworldy about her. So they tended not to cooperate with her wishes.

She managed the trip, though, riding sidesaddle due to the large-skirted gown she wore. What a chore. But she was looking forward to hunting some baddies, especially after what the vampire Athan and his cronies had put them through on the train.

They arrived in Pamazoo, and as usual, Lora was the only free person of color in sight. She was used to it by now, but she still regarded her surroundings with care. Perhaps she should avoid inviting trouble by sticking with either Colt or Holden. But also… she could not very well hunt goons in a big skirt.

“I’ll travel with you, Mr. Precistone. All the better to ensure the surgeon knows his business,” Lora said while Holden moved over to offer her assistance. This pleased her greatly; she was a lady, after all. “I’ll take the opportunity to make a change of wardrobe.”

Fortunately, she had a shirt and pants with her, and she had packed them into her day bag before leaving the train. She only needed a private room for a few minutes, where she could dress herself away from prying eyes. Surely she would find such a room with whatever passed for a healer in this town.
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Colt Carson
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Sat Feb 10, 2018 9:31 pm

While Colt certainly acknowledged the usefulness of companions and allies, he was glad to see his two compatriots team up and peruse the town together - as opposed to sticking with him. "I'll catch you two on the other side," he nodded at them and turned to head for the gunsmith.

Lora and Holden would approach the local physician. His one-story 'office' was more of a shack than anything, and the sign that read 'Doctor' on the front was missing the 'c'. Nevertheless, he was the only licensed professional in town, and thus the only option the two had. Outside, on the hitching post, was a beautiful white steed, with an exquisite saddle. It was noticeably calm compared to other equines.

Ding-ding!

A bell hanging over the door indicates the arrival of the two individuals. Two other occupants sit within the room: a male in common clothes, and a lady in silk attire. Her dark skin, make-up, and general vibe paint her as a foreigner.

"Allow me residence here, Doctor Roberts," she was saying, "and I shall pay you back tenfold. My talents are... exquisite." The lady sounded as foreign as she looked, with an accent placing her somewhere in southeastern Europe, or perhaps Anatolia.

Doc Roberts growled and shook his head. He was a short man, just barely taller than Holden, with a bald head, thick glasses, and liver-spotted arms. "I said no Sophia! I don't mean no offense, m'lady - but the folks here, they won't like you! I'm already struggling as it is." The doctor threw his hands up in frustration. "This town just don't need no doctor, I reckon! I may as well just sell the place!"

The lady: Sophia, glanced at Holden and Lora from the corner of her eye. "Perhaps you should. And perhaps I shall buy it." She cast a sly grin at the doctor. "Look here, at your two visitors. One is injured." The lady gracefully approached the two new arrivals. A smooth ran reached for Holden's face, as if to caress his cheek. The beautiful dame's smile was tantalizing.

"Shall I have a look?" she offered.
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Holden Precistone
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Sun Feb 11, 2018 4:47 pm

“I’d appreciate the company as always Ms. Campbell,” Holden was slightly enchanted by the beautiful woman, it was hard not to be, but he had the good sense to manage his words carefully. After all their last encounter had ended in quite the adventure but that had been over one night.

Holden was only here now out of the fact he felt a duty to act in this case. Humans were so fragile at times and if Ms. Campbell was to accompany the cowboy he would see her through safely. He shifted his stance feeling the bulky dressings over his shoulder tugging on his skin. They were wrapped well and the poultice was doing wonders for the pain but the holes needed to be stitched and the muscle drawn together so it would heal properly.

When they arrived to see the doctor it appeared they were interrupting a rather private conversation. Holden cleared his throat his heavy boots piercing some of the silence as he closed the door behind Lora having held it open for her with his good arm. Coming up beside her his thick brows furrowed at the argument as the woman approached him. He wasn’t hesitant to allow a woman to do the work, obviously he accepted the help of a black woman who others might have seen as dangerous, but he knew her to be rather kind if not exceptionally intriguing.

Speaking of intriguing the female of the pair was approaching him attempting to touch his face he would allow her to do so. Magic was a bit harder to weave on the sturdy race and therefore he had no inclination to be fearful of others approaching him.

“If you can patch me up then I’d be much obliged if you would,” he told her his voice slightly gruff.
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Lora Campbell
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Thu Feb 15, 2018 9:00 pm

Something about the scene just did not feel right to Lora. There was nothing specific, nothing she could name, just… her instincts told her that there was something here that she was not seeing. She’d noted the becalmed horse outside, and the woman inside the shack, talking with the man who must be the doctor or surgeon, struck her as being off base in some way.

Lora found herself wondering whether she had any hex bags in her small purse. She usually carried a few premade, all-purpose hex bags in case something crossed her path. These hex bags were seldom any use against vampires, but they could hamper some of the more basic magic spells. She also kept an evil eye on her as one of her charms, and she thought it might be put to use if the woman was indeed some form of Mediterranean.

“You’ll pardon us, please,” Lora said from over her own nose as the woman reached past her to touch Holden. Lora and Holden weren’t an item, but this woman did not know that. Who was to say Lora wouldn’t take offense to such a bold move?

She flipped open her fan and started fanning herself. “He’s a poultice on his shoulder currently to ease the wound, but certainly it needs further mending.” She said this to the doctor while looking at his female visitor, as if to say, Yes, of course I’ve done my womanly duty.

If the doctor or the woman were at all worldly, they might recognize Lora’s accent as being from somewhere in the Caribbean, if not Jamaica specifically. “Surely your practice could use the fees,” she murmured as her gaze took in the rather slapdash place.
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