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Longshot

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About Longshot

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  1. Quentin glanced at Speed and Pronto. "What do you want to do?...This isn't my first gunfight, but I'll do what you say, Marshal..." @Flip
  2. Quentin realized that the posts along the front of the newspaper office did not provide him enough cover and he caught a few incoherent yells coming from inside the bank. Quentin shot a glance down the street and saw the overturned wagon, idly wondering for a moment how it managed to turn over without him hearing it. Quentin moved down and stepped into the narrow alley, putting the corner of the newspaper office between himself and the bank in case any of the robber's comrades decided to take revenge. Quentin glanced down and broke open the Smith, tugging the two empties from the cylinder and replacing them before snapping the revolver closed. Quentin glanced down at the wagon again and thought he had glimpsed the marshal among the men helping the wagon driver. Help still looked to be a few minutes away so Quentin cocked the revolver again and leveled it at the bank, watching for any movement at the front windows or the door in case any of the robbers decided to make a break for it. Open Tags and TBC
  3. Quentin Cantrell strolled down the plank sidewalk after enjoying a breakfast at the hotel. He touched his hat a few times to women he passed. Quentin had come into town because he wanted to have a word with the marshal about the missing cattle from the ranch. Random disappearing cattle was a part of everyday life on a ranch, but the numbers that were missing were steady and well above what could be explained by sickness, predators, and so on. Quentin slowed down in front of the newspaper office. He bent and picked up a copy from the table in front and dropped a coin into the box set aside for payment. Quentin leaned against a post and began perusing the front page when he heard the clattering bang of a door nearby. He looked up and saw a man running out of the bank and into the street. He paused in the street and yelled "THEY'RE ROBBING THE BANK, BOYS!" followed by a pair of shots that dropped him in the middle of the street. Quentin crouched reflexively at the shots and looked over at the man who had fired. He stood moving in a circle trying to keep control of several horses while one hand held the pistol that had killed the man in the street. Quentin swept his hand down and swept his jacket aside, his thumb pushing the loop from the hammer of his Smith and Wesson. He drew and raised the shiny revolver, aiming at the wild eyed man amidst the horses as he cocked the hammer. He paused a moment as the mass of horses kept sweeping around until the man was exposed again and Quentin fired. The round punched into the gunman on his side, a puff of dust erupting from the vest he was wearing and a patch of red appeared on his right side. The man let out a sound of pain and fired a wild round in Quentin's direction, making him crouch deeper and move to the next post to spoil the robber's aim. Quentin cocked the revolver again and fired, hitting the man in the center of his torso so he staggered back a few steps, the robber collapsed to his knees in the street, one hand still holding the reins of the horses and his pistol still in hand amidst the chaos of the street. His eyes rolled up and he toppled forward to lay in the dirt near the body of the man he had killed, his arm still bobbing with the reins tangled in his fingers. Open Tags
  4. Wellington MacKenzie moved along the edge of the dance floor. He had gotten himself a glass of punch and tried to stay back from the swirling couples. He had been waylaid a few times by the more political minded townspeople. Various city council types and a man he thought had been the mayor. Each had greeted him and then began bending his ear about how thrilled they were to have an actual military garrison in the area. MacKenzie had been happy at first to have the attention but soon it had grown tedious as he had to keep explaining he only had so much latitude in his activities in this area. Finally he had found a quiet spot beside a table and was finishing his glass of punch when he saw Matilda moving away from the dance floor. MacKenzie also noted she was no longer accompanied by the doctor. MacKenzie drained his glass and set it down before he moved on an intercept course. He finally caught up to Matilda and fell into step beside her. "Did your escort abandon you?" @Wayfarer for Matilda
  5. "Maybe you should let the lady know. You might find unexpected joy, if she receives it well. Tonight with the music and drinks is a very good opportunity....oh and sorry for listening. Your conversation was quite loud." Quentin turned to regard the stranger's words. His mouth opened to respond but he caught himself. It wouldn't be very neighborly to quarrel with someone at the town dance, especially since he wasn't wrong...just butting in. Quentin glanced over at Mike to see his reaction when his eye caught Harriet standing alone looking out across the people at the dance. Quentin straightened and turned to look at the two men. "I suppose both of you are right. Pardon me if I seek out much prettier company." He nodded to both and tossed a smile at Mike before he moved off through the crowd, cutting a beeline for Harriet. Quentin stopped in front of Harriet and cut a very formal bow. "Now that you are finished with your legion of admirers, what can I interest you in first?" Harriet smiled, her eyes lighting in response to his presence. She executed a pretty curtsy. She tilted her head up at him, "Admirers? Hardly. How anyone can want to talk of legal matters with all this going on," she waved one lace-gloved hand at the crowd, "is beyond me." Cutting Quentin a mischievous look, Harriet added, "What you can interest me in first is something cool to drink. Shall we find the refreshments?" Quentin took her arm and wrapped it around his, they moved through the fringe of the crowd until they reached the tables laid out with food and drink. "Well, let's see...there's lemonade, punch, water...and...cider...and even some beer...root and otherwise." Quentin glanced over at Harriet. "What would be the lady's pleasure?" "Cider, I think," Harriet replied after studying the selection, "Hopefully, it has not been excessively spiked," she added wryly. "Are you enjoying yourself so far?" Harriet then laughed slightly, "How is that when we are bickering and arguing, I do not feel awkward in the slightest, yet when trying to make small-talk, I stumble all over myself like a schoolgirl? Is it because I hope things keep...changing...for us?" Quentin finished pouring two glasses of cider and handed one to Harriet. "I am..." He blinked as she laughed then found himself grinning as well once she explained. "I admit I am more used to us throwing verbal knives at each other, so this does feel a little unusual, but I don't mind...you do look lovely tonight Harriet. I...am very glad that things have changed between us." Quentin was blushing himself now as he had tried to explain his feelings at the moment. He then gave a mental shake and held up his glass to hers. "To us..." he said quietly as they clinked lightly. Tags @Stormwolfe
  6. "Sure is," Mike said as he shook his head slightly, "No thanks. I've never quite got the taste for those things but you go right ahead." Quentin nodded and put the leather case away. "It's a filthy habit...but it was one of the few things we had plenty of back then." He took another glance around, "I see both Harriet and Sarah are very popular this evening. I'll probably have to get in line to have a dance with either of them besides, I think my brother, Matt has some ideas about Sarah and I wouldn't like to get in his way. However, Harriet is another matter." Quentin was in the middle of drawing on the cigarillo when Mike made his comment. Quentin coughed lightly as he realized what Mike was alluding to. Quentin tugged it from his lips and stared at it as if it had suddenly grown horns and a tail while he considered his response. Glancing sideways at Quentin, Mike wanted to see if there was any reaction from the man. It was no secret that both Quentin and Harriet were showing an interest in each other that was more than friendly. Even though no-one had actually said anything, it was obvious by the way the two of them acted around each other. The long winter had provided plenty of opportunity for the hands to mix with those who lived in the house and a person would have to be blind not to notice. "You do and I will break your arm..." Quentin said but he was grinning when Mike looked to his face. "...Alright, fine...Harriet and I haven't been as secretive as we thought we were, but nothing has really happened...Yet!" Quentin pointed the cigarillo like a pistol at Mike when he saw the other man's mouth start to open. Quentin realized how he must have looked standing there and he jammed it back into his mouth, giving an exasperated puff. Looking back in the direction where Harriet was busy talking with a group of people, Mike nodded, "Now, that I think about I just might go and ask Miss Mercer for the next dance...unless you're planning to do so." Quentin rolled his eyes and he ground the cigarillo out and stuck it back into the case. "Alright, alright!..." He turned to look at Mike, "...You should stick to being ranch foreman...your matchmaking skill needs work." Quentin lightly punched Mike's shoulder. "There's still no use trying to fight my way in there, but I am next." @JulieS and @Jack
  7. Quentin wandered along the fringes of the dance. Harriet had been roped into a conversation with several townspeople asking her various legal questions. He had known better than to try and extricate her because they seemed to be actual clients of hers. Quentin figured he would swing back by and drag her away once she had had a chance to put out whatever fires they felt were burning. Quentin paused to light one of his cigarillos, savoring the warm glow they always gave him. He didn't smoke them constantly but he did indulge in them from time to time. Quentin spotted a conspicuous lack of motion over between a few tables and recognized the Lost Lake foreman. Mike was doing a pretty good job of blending into the background as Quentin walked up beside the other man and leaned against the wall beside him. "Nice spot..." Quentin said by way of greeting. "...kinda peaceful." He reached into his coat and pulled out the leather pouch he carried his cigarillos in. "Smoke?" @JulieS and @Jack for responses or joining
  8. "I have just been asked to dance by this fine specimen of manhood here though. However, I can promise you can have the next dance. I hope that is satisfactory?" she replied to Mackenzie. MacKenzie nodded. "That will be quite satisfactory, Miss. I did not wish to ask you for a dance until the music began. The timing is completely up to you." "Oh and allow me to introduce Doctor Jonah Danforth, town physician," she presented the other. MacKenzie regarded the other man and his hand swung out to offer a firm clasp, noting he seemed unlike most physician types he had met. "And this is Colonel MacKenzie, he is in charge of the soldier boys out at the fort. I'm sorry, colonel, but I never did get your Christian name?" MacKenzie gave a smile. "Wellington, ma'am...I am afraid my father was quite the fan of the Iron Duke and wanted to pass along something of the man to myself. I suppose I should be thrilled my name isn't Arthur or Wellesley. I would probably have had to take part in far too many fistfights growing up." @Wayfarer and/or @Bongo
  9. MacKenzie's head came up as he heard the music begin to play. He was so grateful for the reason to extricate himself from the conversation he had been dragged into. A group of townsfolk had decided that he needed to hear all about their plans for how to use and deploy the fort's garrison to the best result all around the area. MacKenzie had listened and nodded politely through the ad hoc military council but was also doing his best to rein in his temper. "I must apologize for having to attend to my duties but I had promised some dances with the lady who had come out to the fort and invited I and my men...if you will excuse me." MacKenzie gave the group a bow and set his glass of punch on a nearby table as he turned and made his way through the people thronging the barn. He scanned the attendees until he finally saw Miss Devereau talking with another man over to one side. MacKenzie strode up before the pair and smiled to them both. "Pardon me, Sir, but I had promised to ask Miss Devereau to dance to thank her for inviting myself and my men here to this amazing party..." MacKenzie then looked over at Matilda. "Would you care to dance, mademoiselle?" @Wayfarer for Matilda and @Bongo for Jonah
  10. Quentin took the whiskey with a nod to Shade and he leaned his head back and threw it down with hardly a breath. He let air hiss back out through his teeth as he set it down on the mantle. "Thanks...I needed that." Quentin then turned at Sarah's words when she approached. "Looking lovely this evening, Sarah...I doubt you will get much rest at the dance..." Quentin turned as Harriet spoke and he came up short, setting aside his own nervousness as he took in the view of her. "You are simply a vision tonight, Harriet. Between you and Sarah no one will even notice Shade and I walked into the room." Quentin then turned and looked at Shade. "Well, no one but that lady you've been stepping out with..." @Stormwolfe and @JulieS
  11. The column of riders approached the dance area at a round trot. The riders all had cloaks on, mostly to keep the trail dust off of their uniforms than for any warmth or concealment. The rider at the head raised an arm and the twin columns pulled up and stopped. MacKenzie swung down from his saddle and shrugged off his cloak, draping it over the saddle of his mount before he stepped back, batting lightly at his uniform and boots as the other officers and sergeants with him did the same. MacKenzie straightened and spoke quietly. "Alright, lads...form up..." The men fell unconsciously into two rows facing him. A few cast longing looks toward the tent that had the unmistakable look of the saloon tent. They all faced front as the colonel began speaking. "You all look like military gentlemen and I thank you for the effort you put in to getting ready for this little soiree..." MacKenzie smiled as his eyes moved along the two rows, then the smile dropped off "Now understand this, if any of you get into trouble tonight...for any reason...your military careers will come to a screeching halt." His eyes searched out a few of the men he knew had reputations for drink or the ladies. "I selected you all to attend this dance because I needed men who could comport themselves with honor and dignity. If any of you make me regret choosing you for this dance, I guarantee you that you will regret your actions a lot more." MacKenzie looked them over another few moments, then nodded. "Once we leave the dance tonight, I have arranged for us to occupy several rooms at the hotel in town..." MacKenzie saw several faces light up and a few elbow nudges among the young officers. "...If all of you aren't in those rooms tomorrow morning when Sergeant Major Halloran makes his rounds, do not bother showing up afterward, am I clear?" The men nodded and several "Yessirs" were scattered among the bobbing heads. MacKenzie nodded and began tugging off his gauntlets. "Then dismissed and have fun, lads...within reason." MacKenzie grinned as the group broke up, some of the officers and men bustling toward the saloon tent as he began walking toward the dance tent. He glanced sideways at the sergeant major in his braided NCO finery as he kept pace with him. "Thank you for agreeing to come along and ride herd on the men..." Halloran shrugged and looked ahead at the dance barn. "Colonel, Darlin', It's been a long time since I've been asked to any of these parties unless they were being held on the fort itself...this is a welcome surprise. Besides, you picked a pretty decent group. I only figure I need to watch three or four of them." MacKenzie nodded as they reached the open doorway of the barn. "Well, thank you anyway, now go enjoy yourself...I believe I have a dance to ask for..." @Wayfarer for Matilda or open tag for anyone else
  12. Quentin stood in front of the mirror in his room and tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. He had to admit it just felt odd to be dressing up like this. Back when he lived in San Francisco this was his normal day and evening wear. The black pants had a faint shiny black stripe down the outside of each leg to where they draped over his polished black boots. The vest Quentin wore was shinier and a little more showy then the rest of the suit. The starched white dress shirt lacked the ruffle on the front like most fashion of the time. Quentin always thought those ruffles to be a bit foppish. Quentin moved over and picked the shoulder holster up off the bed and shrugged into it. This was something he had always worn and the weapons it carried had saved his life more than a few times. Quentin rolled his arms and made sure the fit was as comfortable as he remembered. He snapped the end of the holster to his belt and then the other side to keep everything stable under his coat. Quentin then pushed his short compact Colt into the holster under his left arm and then picked up the double edged dagger and slid it into the upside down hanging sheath under his right arm. Quentin smiled at the smooth ivory hand of the dagger. It had been a gift from a gambler friend of his. "Quentin, always carry a knife...they never expect a knife and a knife never runs outta bullets..." He could still hear the raspy brogue of O'Rourke the day he gave him the dagger. Quentin moved over and picked up the pocket watch. Quentin wound the stem, then looped the chain into his vest and dropped the silver watch into the pocket. He tugged his frock coat off the back of the chair and slid into it, making a few motions to settle it better on his shoulders and arms. He then picked up his hat, a different one than the one he wore most days around the ranch. The shorter brim a nod to the fact it was seldom used to deal with the elements. Quentin looked at the man in the room's mirror and took a breath. It was a different man in a lot of ways, but still a lot of the same man who now lived at Lost Lake ranch. Quentin turned and strode out of his room and out the hallway to the second floor landing and the stairs leading down to the first floor. Quentin heard voices as he walked down the stairs, Shade and Harriet coming into view as he descended the steps, still holding his hat in his hand. "I think I would like one of those as well..." Tag @Stormwolfe for Shade and Harriet
  13. MacKenzie shrugged a bit and nodded. "I hope enough for you, Madame..." He then watched her walk out of his office and then out of the building. His reverie continued for a few more moments before he blinked. His eyes widened a bit before he looked at his aide at the desk in the outer office. "Lieutenant! Officers Call in twenty minutes...!" The colonel then took a few steps back toward his desk before stopping and making a half turn back toward the door. "Who handles laundry here on the post?" MacKenzie realized his dress uniform had been packed into his trunk for...well, probably years...he would need to get it cleaned up so he was presentable for this dance...same for any of the other officers and NCO's who would be coming with him.
  14. MacKenzie was on his feet before he even realized she had stood herself...his reflexes bringing his manners to the fore without thought. He rounded the desk and moved to the door and opened it, standing beside the doorway as she swept around to stop before him. "Well, Miss Devereau, I would like to thank you for the invitation and the visit. Both are very welcome surprises and a lovely change of pace in our typical days here."
  15. MacKenzie blinked in surprise at the woman's statement. He could feel the creeping heat climbing up from his collar and he also knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. "Well, I would be honored if you would give me the privilege of a dance. Consider yourself asked right this minute, Miss Devereau." He returned her gaze steadily for several heartbeats then he coughed lightly and looked around. "Ahem...So...what else can I do for you, Madame?"

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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