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Longshot

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About Longshot

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  1. Flip just made a post about who he might ask to help provide Security for the trial. I know he mentioned Quentin, and now that can include Shade?
  2. Quentin's head snapped up at the sound of the shot. He held the wagon reins as it trundled along at a steady pace and his other hand dropped down to the butt of his Colt. He kept listening but heard nothing else. He left the Colt in place and sighed. He could guess what that shot was for so he waited patiently as the wagon covered the distance. Finally he crested the hill and he saw Brendan standing there over Billy. Quentin stopped a few yards away and climbed down. He walked a few steps closer but kept an eye on Brendan. People in his situation weren't beyond doing foolish things. After a minute of looking at the young man, Quentin spoke. "Brendan...I'm sure Billy is grateful for what you did. I am glad he had a friend with him at the end." Quentin moved closer before he spoke again. "I need to bring the bodies back to town so we can clear all this up with the Marshal, but I think you should have anything you wish to keep from any of them, including the money..." Quentin gave Brendan a moment after he said that. "You can also have all the horses and saddles...you can sell anything or everything and keep the money. Use it to start fresh. Get away from Evergreen and become your own person, Brendan. You owe it to Billy to make it worth what happened..." Quentin looked at Brendan and his eyes caught the stain on his shirt. "I should look at that wound before we get started for town. It looks like it's still bleeding." @Wayfarer @Bailey @Longshot
  3. Blackjack hushed them both, "It don't matter none now. I know this Cantrell from a past we shared. He is gonna kill us all. Don't you think he's gonna just take us back inta town where it's our words against his. No, he is a killer...I oughtta know. I'm one too." Now he shouted back as loudly as he could. "HEY CANTRELL ! IT'S ME! BLACKJACK LAINE! YOU REMEMBER ME! I REMEMBER YOU!" "YOU WANT GREER? THEN COME AND GET HIM! WE ARE GONNA BLAST YOU TO HELL N' BACK! UNLESS YOU TURN TAIL AND RUN LIKE A COWARD!" Cantrell's head reared back a bit as he thought about what the man said. After a few seconds his eyes widened in recognition. "JACK?...NOBODY CALLED YOU BLACK JACK BUT YOURSELF! YOU CAN'T STOP PICKING THE WRONG SIDE, CAN YA?" Quentin took another breath "THIS IS A LONG WAY FROM KANSAS, JACK! DON'T YOU BE A DAMN FOOL!" Blackjack smirked then yelled back, "WHO IS THE FOOL HERE? IT'S ONE AGAINST FOUR! WE LIKE OUR CHANCES!" Greer started up a disturbing chuckling. Quentin's eyes narrowed. "THERE WERE FIVE OF YOU IN ABILENE, JACK!...HOW DID THAT WORK OUT?" Billy stared at their self-appointed leader so Blackjack turned to the others and explained, "He and his bushwhacked us." Brendan shook his head resignedly and adjusted his grip on his rifle. "Hell, why'd you get us into this, Greer?" Greer huffed, "I got bushwhacked too!" Brendan searched the rise with his eyes to see if he could see where Quentin was hiding. "Ain't you gonna answer him, Blackjack?" Blackjack now raised his Winchester to his shoulder and looked down the sights, aiming it up along the crestline, "I'll answer him alright. Let's give the sonofabitch a reply he'll understand!" Then he opened fire, pumping three rounds up there as fast as he could work the lever and bring the rifle up to aim the next shot. Greer joined in too, firing a couple shots too. Quentin was just raising his head back up to take a look when the first shot rang out. It was joined by others and what had to be at least one more rifle. He ducked back down as he heard a few faint snaps as the rounds passed nearby but not too near. It looked like they had no idea where he was at the moment and were just fishing. Quentin rolled onto his stomach and crawled up just to the crest. He rested the Winchester on the edge, left hand cradling the forearm as he settled behind the stock. Quentin looked the wagon over and saw the drifting smoke from two spots...figuring that might be Greer and Jack. Quentin kept watching and soon saw at least two more movements. He nodded to himself. Those two might not be so eager to participate in a gunfight. Quentin sighted and exhaled, then his finger curled around the trigger. The Winchester puffed a small cloud of white smoke as he fired at the one with what looked like an old muzzle loader. He glimpsed wood fly as the round struck near him but Quentin wasn't looking to kill anyone who didn't buy a ticket to this dance. He worked the lever a few more times, sending a total of three rounds into the wagon side and frame. After the last shot he crawled back below the crest and began crawling to the right, taking his hat with him because he knew bullets would be coming back at the spot the smoke came from. So far only Blackjack and Greer were firing. Billy was just standing behind the wagon, taking in this first time situation for him, he was in an actual gunfight where people were trying to kill people? It was a lot to grasp. A shot now struck the wagon, much closer to Brendan though than him. Still, he couldn't help but flinch. Another two shots whacked into the wooden sides of the wagon then. One of them caused a few splinters to fly and one struck him in his bare chest. "Ow!" it stung but nothing more than a scratch as he glanced down. Still he knelt then by the back wheel. Blackjack snapped at the pair, "Don't just stand there you idiots. Gonna let yerself get shot down like dogs. Shoot back!" Billy now took a deep breath, cocked back the Spencer and popped up. Resting the carbine on the wagon he then fired at the smoke on the horizon. Since his was a single shot he ducked back down to lever it and recock it. Meanwhile Greer blazed away like a madman, he was using up his magazine capacity at a quick rate. Brendan heard the whine of a bullet and flinched as a few splinters grazed his cheek. "Shit!" He fired a shot in the direction of the smoke from Quentin's shots and then ducked down behind the wagon and swiped his arm across his face. His bicep was bloody in two places when he looked at it: one from his face and one from a splinter in his arm. Greer and Blackjack seemed to be holding down the fort all right, so he edged around them to the front of the wagon and started undoing the harnesses of the horses. He didn't think any of the other men would think about the horses, but he didn't want them in harm's way. He slapped their rumps to get them moving and then crawled back beside Billy, working to reload his gun. "We shoulda just given him Greer," he muttered quietly. Billy noticed Brendan got hit with splinters too, the drawback of using the wagon for cover it seemed. As for the man's opinion... "Not gonna happen," Billy didn't like Greer much and hadn't for a long time now but he wasn't prepared to turn on him. Quentin lifted his head up from the rifle, moving his finger from the trigger as he watched the young man shooing the wagon's team out of danger. He exhaled....No, that one isn't in this for the fight. Another round came from the wagon and Quentin's eyes narrowed. He swung the rifle around and fired off a few rounds, sending them at Greer with a lot less worry about where they will hit. (Start a new post?) @Wayfarer @Bailey @Longshot
  4. Quentin came up over the next rise and saw the wagon and he could faintly hear Greer screaming like a woman as he headed for it. A quick impression of men moving around the wagon told Quentin that the odds looked to be about to change against him. Quentin leaned back, pulling the reins and Paladin's head came up, back legs spreading as his front planted. The horse slid several yards on the grass and then Quentin yanked him around, spurring to the left and back behind the crest and below the level of the hill. He slid from the saddle and reached, dragging his Winchester from the scabbard and he patted a hand on the horse's rump. Paladin trotted down the hill toward the small valley behind as Quentin worked the lever as he crept back toward the crest. He dropped to all fours and reached to set his hat beside him as he eased up carefully, looking toward the treeline and seeing everyone was behind cover. Quentin chewed on his lip a moment as he considered his options, then he took a breath. "BOYS! I JUST WANT GREER! HE TOOK A SHOT AT ME!...I DON'T HAVE A QUARREL WITH YOU ALL!" @Wayfarer @Bailey
  5. Quentin finished reloading the Smith and snapped it shut. He looked back over at Paladin as another shot rang out. Quentin ducked but he also saw Paladin neigh and dance with a sudden motion. He had heard the faint snap of a round passing by but it didn't seem close to him. Hoof beats carried to Quentin's ears and he craned his head up to glimpse the horse disappearing over a nearby hilltop. Quentin exhaled and stood, shoving his revolver back into its holster. He then jogged over to Paladin, giving the horse a quick looking over but he didn't see any wounds or blood. Quentin swung up into the saddle and reined Paladin around before spurring him off in the direction Greer had ridden off. Several seconds Quentin crested the rise and off in the distance he could see Greer. He was leaned back, hanging on to the reins as his horse galloped furiously. The man looked like a pile of clothes flying in the same direction as his horse, not like a man riding a horse. Quentin smiled and leaned over, arms down to the sides holding Paladin's reins as he lightly kicked his heels. Paladin stretched his own neck out as his feet erupted. The horse's powerful legs gathering and leaping in unison and the animal literally leaped from a lope to a flat out run. Quentin's eyes widened a bit and he held on tighter as his horse began to close the distance on the rider in the distance...this wouldn't take long... @Wayfarer @Bailey
  6. Quentin Cantrell let Paladin find his own way down the side of the hill. The horse wound its way along the unstable slope until the ground flattened out at the bottom. Quentin turned Paladin to let the horse continue his pace but moving to cross the open meadow. The day already promised to be hot and Quentin had already learned how hot even a Montana summer can be. After word of the Little Big Horn had reached Kalispell and the surrounding area, everyone was seeing Indians behind every tree and under every rock. The Lost Lake people were understandable worried after reading the lurid news stories and hearing the rampant gossip about the "Rampant Indian Uprising". Quentin did not consider himself an Indian expert, but he knew from his few dealings with the ones in this area that they weren't given to bloodthirsty rampages and his travels around the West in the past had shown him that the white man's idea of a "Savage Indian" usually started with something the white people did to them that made them so angry they were goaded into action. But, regardless, Lost Lake was partly his and he was not about to take a chance on any Indian groups laying in wait on the land or massing to maybe attack the ranch or Kalispell. Quentin and Shade had organized the hands to act as scouts, riding out along the edges of the land looking for any signs of Indians, either camping or passing through. If they were to find such signs, they would immediately send riders into town and to the nearby fort to spread the alarm. So far, thankfully, nothing had been seen, either actual or sign of marauding Indians. Quentin had felt the nice morning air and decided to take one of the scout trips for himself, but the climbing sun was reminding him of how bad an idea it could be even this far north. Quentin tugged rein and Paladin stopped in the meadow. Quentin sat his horse as Paladin fed on some of the summer grass and Quentin reached down and tugged one of his canteens loose. He twisted the cap off and lifted it up to take a drink. His head tipped back and he lifted the canteen just in time for the .44 rimfire round to smash into it. Water went everywhere and the canteen was smacked from his grasp at the same time the report of the rifle reached Quentin's ears. Reflex threw him to the side and he let himself fall from the saddle. Paladin bucked and neighed and hopped sideways as he felt Quentin fall. His horse was too well trained to flee and simply loped a few yards away to look back at his owner laying in the knee high grass. Quentin lay sprawled in the grass, his Smith in his hand as he peered through the blades of grass back toward the direction the shot came from. His eyes narrowed as he watched carefully...gaze moving from left to right slowly before he saw the mounted man in the distance. Quentin squinted as the rider lowered his rifle to work the action and then it hit him as he saw the balding head...Greer. Quentin muttered a string of curses after deciding that he definitely should have shot that sonofabitch in the street that night. Bringing the Smith up, Quentin aimed above Greer and let loose a few shots. He figured the sound of rounds passing by should keep Greer honest until he could figure out his next move. @Wayfarer
  7. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    I think it wrapped up nice there.
  8. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    "You pressin' charges, Quentin?" Speed asked, not knowing what the man had in mind. "If you don't then I will. Looks to me like the Circuit Judge'll have his hands full whenever he gets here." It would be a case load, that was for sure. Quentin slid his revolver back into its holster as he thought about what the marshal asked. "I'm not sure if we should arrest that idiot or a bottle of whiskey from the saloon..." Quentin rubbed his chin. "...Ah, Hell, he did try and break my head for me, so sure, I'll swear out charges on Loudmouth. I guess the boy is only guilty of horrible judgement in who he follows around. I don't have anything on the kid...that's for you to decide." @Flip @Wayfarer "Okay, Billy is it? Pick him up an' walk ahead of me to Marshal's office. Believe we've on cell left that should do nicely." Pike looked at Quentin. "Nice piece of work Cantrell!" He shove Billy and the stunned Greer toward the jail. "Interrupted my dinner, ya did, I don't take to kindly to that." Quentin smiled and raised a hand to his hat brim and gave a half salute to Pike. "Just happy to have been here to help. I do hate uneven fights." @Flip It was then he spotted Flandry, and nudging Quentin stepped over to him. "Didn't get a chance to thank you for your actions earlier today, You and Quentin here made the difference, along with young Ryker. I think we've time for a drink before we head to the Hotel for that steak." Quentin extended a hand to Ralph and shook it. "Marshal's right. You sure helped keep them busy until the law arrived. It's good to know other citizens stepped up..." Quentin then looked over at the marshal. "...I believe the deal was I buy the drinks and you buy the steaks!" He looked back at Ralph. "I know buying drinks for the bartender seems odd, but I owe you a drink or three as well. I'll leave you some money for Pike and Ryker to have a few later on if you don't mind helping me out?" @Flip @Wayfarer Pike came up to them and announced. "All locked up tight for the night. Be headin' back to my supper at the Lickskillet with Em. She had herself a day." Quentin extended a hand to the deputy. "I was just buying everyone from earlier today a few drinks. I'll leave money with Ralph. Have a few on me when you have the chance?" @Flip
  9. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    He swallowed fearfully, "I wasn't doin' nothin'." Quentin glanced down at Greer to assure himself the man wasn't faking his condition, then he looked back at Billy. "Let's start with your unfortunate choice in friends...now, you move real slow...and undo your gun belt with your left hand, and let it fall to the ground. Don't spook me, Boy...I spook...I shoot, you understand?" @Wayfarer Both men grabbed an arm at the shoulder and dragged Case into the Municipal building and to the cell block where they unceremoniously tossed him on the cot. The door clanged shut and turned in the lock. Both left the jail to join up with Quentin. Quentin bided his time keeping Billy at the end of his revolver and watching the crowd of onlookers. He did let out an inner sigh of relief as he heard the doors bang open and Speed and his deputy re-emerged from the city building. As they approached Quentin looked at the deputy. "If you would be so kind and collect this gentleman's gun belt. His companion was...unable...to remove his, so you may want to collect it also." @Flip
  10. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    And with that he took a swing, a big old round house right that just might have worked if the target was unprepared. Not quite the case though. Quentin had been in more than a few fights, and when he was younger he had caught more than a few punches. One thing he had learned very quickly was that he didn't want to keep doing so. By learning from others, losing his share of fights, and even barely winning the rest...Quentin had learned when to make a punch get thrown. By making it happen he had found that he could control a lot more of what happened afterward instead of getting taken by surprise. Greer was drunk and large...neither of which were useful without any skill. Quentin's knees were already bending as the the big man's punch whipped by over his head. The momentum of the punch drawing Greer forward and past Quentin's right side. Quentin straightened and his right hand came up and over, backhanding the barrel of his Smith down into the side of Greer's neck and head. The solid thump was audible to several people nearby and Greer went down like a sack of grain to lay in the dirt, moaning. Quentin turned and swept the pistol back up, thumbing the hammer back and ending up looking over the sights at the smaller cowboy who had been standing near Greer. "Your move..." @Flip @Wayfarer
  11. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    "That's our boss and you ain't got no damn badge, you can't tell us what to do!" Greer snarled. Quentin gave a slow smile. "Does me not having a badge make me less dangerous...or more?" His glance darted to the younger companion of the big mouth before him, but he looked to have already decided not to try anything for the moment. Quentin turned his attention back to the bigger man again. "But just so you know, I've been helping the marshal all day so as far as you're concerned I am wearing a badge until he says I'm not..." Quentin's eyes narrowed "...You look a little less sure of yourself when you're not pushing a girl around. I'm not a girl and my back isn't turned...what are you gonna do now, big mouth?" @Flip @Wayfarer
  12. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    Quentin's eyes moved over the crowd of various onlookers as he looked for any problems. Case had his hands full with the unsteady and still muttering Case. Purposeful movement at the rear of the crowd caught his eye and he saw a pair of cowpunchers pushing through the loose gathering. A tall mean looking sort and a smaller, more reticent one right behind him. Quentin let out a breath along with a quiet curse as he realized both were heading right for Speed with definite intentions. Dropping the reins of the horses he had been leading, Quentin pushed through the crowd, his right hand moving subtly as he walked, sliding his Smith and Wesson from its holster and holding it down along his leg, out of sight of the two as he arrived between the lead man and Speed. "Boys...I'm pretty sure this is none of your business. Marshal is just doing his job. Go on about your business if you don't want to join that man in a cell..." @Flip @Wayfarer
  13. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    He jerked him upright. “You’re drunk Case, a night in the hoosegow ought to cure that.” He pushed him toward the jail, ignoring the crowd that gathered. Quentin was so surprised by Speed's reaction that he drew the Colt out of reflex, yanking Paladin a bit sideways to cover them both with the smaller revolver before he realized Speed had everything under control. Quentin's head tilted and the corner of his mouth quirked up to see Case Steelgrave so unceremoniously manhandled. Quentin slid the Colt back out of sight and slid down from the saddle, moving around to unhitch Speed's horse and keep Paladin's rein in his hand, staying over to the side of the growing crowd as he moved around toward Speed and his prisoner. @Flip @Wayfarer
  14. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    Quentin nodded at Steelgrave, he knew he should just be the bigger man and let it go at that, but he had heard and seen too much about Case Steelgrave not to somehow figure this involved him...some how...some way...but nothing he could prove. "What's wrong, Case? He one of yours?" Quentin had spent several years helping people and dealing with many different kinds of unsavory characters, and one thing he had learned both over a gun and a card table was how to see when something had hit home. Case was good, he grabbed his reaction internally and wrestled it back into a calm expression in seconds, but Quentin saw his eyes and the momentary stiffening of his muscles in those few moments as the words hit home. Quentin decided to press a bit. "You planning to become Sheriff so you can keep your little criminal enterprises going in safety outside of town? You're going to need a lot better class of weasel than what you have currently..." Quentin's right hand had been resting near his belt buckle and as he spoke it had slid under the edge of his coat to rest on the butt of his Colt that sat on his left side, crossdraw style. Quentin knew on horseback he could never draw his Smith from his right side fast enough for someone with Case's reputation, and giving Case an even chance was not something Mrs. Cantrell had ever raised her son to do on purpose. @Flip
  15. Longshot

    On The Dodge

    With a stop at the undertakers to drop off the body into his care thy remounted and Speed turned to Quentin, "Take up on the steak,I'll buy the drinks. Do need to stop and retrieve my badge tho." He grinned, "been a hell of a day, ain't it?" Quentin nodded. "If you're buying drinks, I'll have the good stuff, and yes...quite a day..." Quentin paused a moment, then stuck his hand out. "Pleasure working with you today, Marshal...you're good troop." @Flip

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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