A grizzled man of some age, but as much as he was grizzled, he was hard, tanned deeply by the sun, a battered top hat sitting atop his long greyish mane, and a full beard to match. His clothes showed their age as well. Pieces were of military issue and well worn civilian type. Trousers of cotton duck as opposed to wool, knee high cavalry boots that had seen service as well as repair.
Traits & Characteristics
Ornery most times. dedicated to whatever job he is holding.
"Since the feller sunk a shaft, here on this map, thet ground water what yer talkin' 'bout might jest prove ta be a probl'um fer us, if'in it ain't already. Never thought about thet." Amos stated.
"Then again Pa, maybe not. Looking at his maps here, he's down four maybe five hundred feet and look at this, isn't that a vein?" Alice asked pointing to an 'adit', a horizontal off shoot of the vertical shaft." She smiled. "We need to go down and check this tunnel, which appears to follow the vein by the way this diagram shows."
"How do you know so much about this process?" Speed asked.
"Simple Mister Guyer, I read what was on this diagram of the mine." Alice replied.
"Danged if she didn't!" Amos exclaimed. "Might oughtta check the hoist fer grease afore we go down. I ain't sure how long she's been sittin' unused."
"Best we get to it them." Speed agreed. Going down into the mine would require chain as rope would not be trusted, though it had been used many times in many places, chain was more dependable. What they were about to find out was the winch was using a chain, and that it had a handle on top, and one in the cage that would lower them so that they could raise themselves. It did require some grease, which they found at the mouth of the shaft. Their underground experience was about to begin.
"Oh, it was so nice to meet you Mr Convoy! Especially with you bein' from Dixie just like me, and don't forget to vote for Mister Pettigrew in the elections, he's from the South, too, you know, and he's a Democrat!" she hadn't been banned from electioneering in the saloon, yet, but it was a ticking clock "... and don't forget to to ask your beautiful daughter Alice if she needs me to be her bridesmaid! Now, you all come back soon, y'hear!" she yelped as she guided him through the swing doors.
"Well now, been a pleasure meetin' you as well, Miss Arabella." He said with a smile. "Not sure of just who'll get my vote, have to look over the field providin' there is one. But I'll shorely keep that feller in mind, not that I ever met him, an' I'll be speakin' to Alice about the weddin' if they got it planned. You have yerself a good evenin' now. See ya next time." Not that he knew when that might be. It seemed he was about to be very busy.
The song, a divisive song in parts of the country, and, to a great number of men who fought for the North, but enjoyable to hear for any son of the South. Amos was a bit too old to worry about what anyone thought of the song, or the South, or the rebel army. No, it mattered not to him.
She did a fair job with it, back to front, it had been a long time since he had heard it done that way, a very long time, and for a moment he was back there, before the war, as a younger man with a wife and daughter. The song brought a certain amount of joy, and a certain amount of sadness for Amos. Much transpired during the campaign. Most of it not good.
It was getting time to head back over to Guyers office, It was an enjoyable visit, and chances were, he would revisit the place now and again. With a nod to The barman and a smile to the little lady, Amos stepped out into the night air, paused for a deep breath ad scanned the all but empty main street. Somewhere he had heard there was talk of giving it a name. Seems folks wanted to name everything anymore.
He stepped off the boardwalk and crossed to the Municipal Buiding. A nice evening.
"Uhhh, faver't song? Don't 'spose Dixie'd be one folks'd wanna hear. Maybe 'Ol' Suszannah, would be okay, Miss Mudd." Amos suggested, "Pleased ta meetcha." He had polished off the first beer, and was looking at the second one, the free one. He was never one to push his drinking. In his former line of work, drinking was a liability if done in excess.
He had actually known a couple of Mudd's from the war, one was from the Carolina's, the other up from Florida. He doubted they were any immediate relation to the young lady, yet he was aware that one never knew. Folks roamed til they found a likely spot and settled. Just the nature of things, it was a big country in all directions.
@Javia? or any
"Oh, be careful what you say to that gentleman what just walked in: he's a journalist!" she warned "I mean, he's a real nice enough feller, Mr McVey, but you know what these pressmen are like; they can forget themselves when there's a good story to be had. Do you know, he once had to issue a written contraction about some mean things his paper printed about me: makin' out I was some sort o' irritatin' pest, or somethin', and not fit to be a bridesmaid. Me!"
Amos looked at her somewhat skeptically, "Ya don't say?" The followed her eyes down the bar to McVay. Now, he'd read a paper or two, and liked the mans style. "Hard ta figger anyone'd try an' say such like in print?" He shook his head
Then she remembered something else.
"Oh, and if your little Alice needs anyone to play the piana or organ at the weddin' .... I'm your girl!" she smiled "You can have a sample in a minute, I'm Miss Mundee's accompanist. Let me know if you've got any requests."
"I'll let her know, I surely will, Miss." He'd not caught her name but it was clear she did not like McVay.
@Javia (unless we're done)
"Sure as shootin', Alice is my daughter an; no product of a book, though I'm sure she'd enjoy heaing all about it. Might even look for a copy to read." Amos responded to the odd questioning of her parentage. "I've know'd her her whole life. Must be a daisy of a book, brein' second only to the 'Good Book.'"
"Hey, hold up a second there. How come she's called Fletcher an your called Convoy. You sure she's your daughter, Mister?" she frowned.
Amos looked at her with a furrowed brow, "Well now, that'd be simple enough, Alice Fletcher, her married name, is a widder. Her husband up and died some years back leavin' her alone, so she come home to her Pa and we started off from there."
He looked for some help from the blonde woman, but saw none coming, as she taken her drink off to talk with some other man. And Ralph, he was down the bar engaged in another conversation. It appeared he was trapped.
Amos jumped at Arabella's unexpected little scream, and then said, "I said thet, I did, an yep, a weddin's in the works, jest cain't say when it'll be," He grinned, That'd be up ta them what's tyin' the knot. Jest did happen, not an hour minutes ago."
Then the young woman continued on about her presence at a friends wedding as a bridesmaid, and bragged about how she was the prettiest one there, but made faces to detract from her self-professed beauty. Now the girl was above average in looks, and apparently highly motivated to promote herself, which was not really a bad thing, just overdone a bit, or so Amos thought.
"Well now, like I said, them two jest did come to the decision to marry, so i doubt thet there's much plannin' goin' on about jest yet." He thought to mention what they had been discussing with the copper mines and all, but not knowing the men in the place, he decided that it would be a bad idea to mention anything about it. It was not his announcement to make anyway. "So ya see, I don't rightly know what it is they're plannin', if anything at this point. The daughters name is Alice, Alice Fletcher."
"New? Been here a spell now, but I'm new ta this place." Amos informed her, "Reckon I can buy you a drink alright." He smiled then to Ralph, "Give the lady what she wants." He had been though this routine more times than he could count, but he was certain she got a percentage of the drinks bought for her, so he was helping her earn a living, or so he believed.
"Jest stopped in ta give my daughter time with her fi'ancey , Marshal Guyer. Work for the man in his other bidness." Sort of havin' me a beer ta celebrate. He an I is old friends."
@Wayfarer @Javia anyone
"I don't take any time to get pretty, I just come that way." she explained to the old man, not that he seemed particularly interested, she was just chatty that way.
"Got yerself a couple wimmen workin, that'll bring 'em in fer shore." He noted, as was the case anywhere there were females in the saloons. "I'm Amos, Amos Conroy, you'd be? Figger I oughtt get ta know folks here since I'll be around a spell. Got a place out east o' here. Workin' for Wood an' Guyer Minin' concern, two doors down." He glanced down and smiled at the young one cleaning the floor. "Looks ta be a good 'un ya got there."
Amos paused, beer glass at his lip when the girl spoke, well, she could be a woman, but didn't look the part to him. "'scuse me, Miss?" He asked. He hardly fit the description of any Santa Clause he had ever heard of, but perhaps she was just being cute. Which fell flat.
He set the beer on the bar, "Reckon you got me confused with the Father Christmas of yer childhood, which don't appear to be thet far back. No, ma'am, I ain't not Santy Clause, thet's fer shore." He grined. "Not hardly, but yer free ta think what ya will." He picked up the glass and took a long swallow.
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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