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    • Priest gave a long rambling exposition on... well, what was it about? Something about living in the past and being from Montana and golden sunshine. It all sounded very fancy and uplifting, give him that. Priest was a good politician, he didn't really say much, but he said it in a crowd pleasing way.    It was near lyrical, and Hiram looked out at the slack-mouth audience.  "You oughta put that to music," he said to Arabella.   "Hmm, and you oughta answer the question!" she murmered to herself.    "Oh, I'll do just that Mr. Priest!" she answered more brightly.   "So, what is he?" asked a nearby cowpoke, who was as bamboozled by the old man's speechification as the rest of them. "He's a Republican!" Arabella hissed a reply "Wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole!" Hmmm, if Priest wasn't a Democrat, maybe one of the other candidates would be.   "Your name, again?"   He smiled.  "It's Ben Simons and I was asking about some of your plans for Kalispell and I'm sure the good voters here would like to know as well."   Then he gave a wide sweeping gesture to acknowledge the other people who were there.  It seemed that there were a few who were getting more interested in their conversion as some of them responded with "yeah" and "what he said."   "They should have a whatayacallem!" yelled Sally Adams suddenly "A debate! All of them, whatayacallem, Can'idates!" she laughed. "I remember seein' Douglas and Lincoln in Freeport waaaaaay before the war. Douglas whupped his ass. Course, that's before he had that beard. Beard helped a lot, y'know. Much better with the beard."   It was a good idea, even if rather eccentrically expressed.    @Wayfarer @Preston @JulieS
    • Arabella's head was, frankly swimming. Lorenzo dying? Brendan in love, it seemed, with Bridget? Well, he couldn't stop thinking about her, that spelled l.o.v.e. in her book. Phew!    At least he did his best to make her feel better.    "Arabella, your face looks like green cheese.”    Not that his best was that great.    "Thanks!" she said sarcastically. "And yours looks like... ah, let's face it, it looks all stupid and handsome like it always does!" she shrugged. Even she had to admit that.    He stood up. “I’m goin’ to talk to her. I want you to come with me.”   She jumped up. She had mixed feelings about this, everything had gone topsy-turvy and was moving way too fast. The only thing more unsettling than the idea of going with the good-looking cowpoke to see her half-witted, crippled friend was the idea of him going on his own, and her not knowing what happened between the two of them.    "Wai-wai-wait! All right Mississippi, I'll come with, just hold on and let me get decent." she implored him. 'Getting decent' didn't take too long, as it involved pulling on her poke bonnet and shawl and grabbing her shopping basket. "Don't want folks thinkin' we're walkin' out together" she muttered. She swilled out her mouth with water, too, to remove the sick taste.    She found Brendan ready to go.    "Listen, she won't be at home this time of day" she told him "She'll be all gussied up and wanderin' round town lookin' through folks windows by now" Arabella calculated. The act of 'getting decent' had given her time to reflect.   Gosh, if Brendan knew 'all about' Bridget, he must also know about the surgical corset that kept her up straight during the day. And the terrible scarring on her body. He was so handsome, she reflected, he could have had the most beautiful girl in town - scratch that, he DID have the most beautiful girl in town, Caroline. She couldn't believe he was that way about Bridget, it... why, it was so noble. She was welling up inside, she could feel it. It was all so romantic, and she just felt so proud of Brendan: proud of him for him seeing the beauty, the real pure beauty, in her idiot friend.   "All righty. You ready?" she asked.   @Bailey  
    • “I know what happened to her, Arabella,” Brendan said quietly.  He knew, and that was the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about Bridget. Anyone who’d been through what she had didn’t deserve to end up back on the streets.    His news about Crabbe’s supposed death was an even bigger shock to Arabella than he’d thought it would be, and it shocked the breakfast out of her. He looked away while she vomited, trying to block out the horrible heaving noises.    Finally she was finished. He looked back at her. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” He hadn’t thought about her long hair getting in the way.    “No, it weren’t nice.” He grinned a little bit. “Arabella, your face looks like green cheese.”    Maybe green cheese didn’t actually look like her face, but her face was green. Now was the time to make his move. He stood up. “I’m goin’ to talk to her. I want you to come with me.”
    • "Arabella!  Enough!" barked Fortner.   Ben was just surprised as everyone else in the place.  They were all used to Arabella and her ramblings that they didn't pay her no mind.  If Fortner wanted to be on good terms with everyone, chastising an employee, even if it was Arabella, in public wasn't the way to go about it.  Arabella, despite her faults, had people who genuinely cared for her.   Hiram shook his head.  "I got no problem answering the young lady's question.  It's a good one."  He looked across the floor to where Arabella stood waiting for an answer.  "So you're asking me what political affiliation I might be, a Democrat or a Republican?   And that's a good question so I'll tell you.   I'm an American.  More to the point, I'm a Montanan.  Your head is filled with worryin' about yesterday - Republican, Democrat.  But look at it this way.  We're all on a journey.  We're all on a train headin' for better times.  So don't pack a trunk of junk filled with yesterdays because tomorrow, tomorrow'll be filled with sunshine."   Priest's answer to Arabella's questions seemed to ease the situation and now they were paying attention to what he was saying.   "Your name, again?"   He smiled.  "It's Ben Simons and I was asking about some of your plans for Kalispell and I'm sure the good voters here would like to know as well."   Then he gave a wide sweeping gesture to acknowledge the other people who were there.  It seemed that there were a few who were getting more interested in their conversion as some of them responded with "yeah" and "what he said."   @Preston @Javia
    • "Northern spy? Dumb name for an apple if ya ask me," Caroline observed, "But sure, enough about apples then. Not like I have anything to add to the subject anyhow other then they taste good. Well, when they ain't all mushy or rottin'."   "Actually, when Northern Spies turn, they can be used for cider making or..." he dramatically clapped his hand over his own mouth to stop himself talking about apples.    They decided on what to eat, and the young officer mooted the idea of coming back again. as a patriotic duty.    "Oh lordy, patriotic duty huh? Well I do consider myself a patriot. I thought Mr. Lincoln was a swell president. Too bad those poor loser rebs shot him."   "Worst thing that ever happened to the South, that's for sure." ruminated Greene "But I don't know about Ol' Abe. Maybe it's best to go out like that, when you're on top. I mean look at Grant: he was the idol of the North when the war ended. If he'd gone out then, he'd be held in as high esteem as President Lincoln is today. But now look, after all these scandals and the Whiskey thing..." he looked philosophical "Some men are at their best in peace, some in war."   "If they'd have let women in that war, Ida joined. Course I was about 7-8 years old then," she grinned.   He laughed.    "Wouldn't fancy Lee's chances against even a half-sized Miss Mundee!" he said, giving her the benefit of his 'vast' military experience and all he had learned at West Point. "Or you could have gone as a cantinière!" he suggested. Then an odd memory buzzed around him, like an annoying fly: something he had witnessed months ago.   "Say, didn't I see your funny little friend dressed up as one of those particular 'ladies' one time?" he frowned.     @Wayfarer


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About Sagas

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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Founders: Stormwolfe & Longshot

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