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About boshmi


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  1. (ooc: I have no excuse I am just very absent-minded ha) Brendan had hit the nail on the head in considering José reluctant to lead in this situation. He didn't want conflict on his hands, not after only just arriving. Being chased out of town would put him right back where he had started. "He's too uppity for a farmer. That's why we don't like 'im." "Uppity?" José repeated. He was unfamiliar with the word, but given their opponent's holier-than-thou demeanor, he could make some inference to its meaning. He didn't quite understand what the local attitudes were like yet, but all this posturing over range conflicts and armed cattlemen were quickly painting a vivid picture. He moved Loretta forward until he could comfortably speak with Brendan without raising his voice. "What's the plan, amigo?" he mumbled under his breath to Brendan. José's hand still rested on his gunbelt, but he wanted some idea of his colleague's intentions before making a move. @Wayfarer@Bailey
  2. José was thankful for Brendan's easy bravado, for being mounted meant that they were at a distinct disadvantage should it come to a close-range gunfight. At any rate, if they could win this with words rather than bullets, it would be worth winning in his eyes. He moved up to take control of the cow as Brendan moved forward, one hand on his gunbelt and one hand gripping the reins. Relaxed, easy, but ready. "Cows'll be cows, you know." As if to demonstrate the point, the cow in question gave José a moo, lumbering across the field in ignorant bliss of the potential conflict. He began to guide her back toward the fence line, but like Brendan, he felt no comfort in turning his back on the longarm-wielding figure for even a second. It was with a jerky, uneasy, gait that Loretta corralled the cow onward, her rider twisting and turning in his seat until they were finally close enough to the Evergreen property that he could safely bring her to bear with Brendan. @Wayfarer@Bailey
  3. "Yes, I, well, I'm sorry I can't directly offer coin. All that metal... you know." Oskar rambled absentmindedly. "Aha!" he suddenly cried, picking out the elusive little counter drawer where he stored his bands. "Here we are." With that, he selected one denoting '$100' and reached over the counter to wrap it around the sheave he had just handed to Speed. "That should keep it all together." he commented happily. "Do give my well-wishes to that poor girl. Wie unglücklich." He rounded the counter once more to show the Marshal out, stumbling only slightly on an errant nail, which provoked a string of profanities spared from Speed's ears only by virtue of them being entirely in German. "Oh, this store is going to ruin... er... thanks again for the guns." he continued, opening the door. "I wish you well, Marshal." @Flip
  4. "You can go or stay, Martinez. I won't be but a minute." José shrugged. If Brendan was going then it couldn't be at his cost, anyway. Without a word, he kicked Loretta into motion, following the senior hand and his own mount. They covered ground easily, fanning out to envelop the animal, but José was so focused on impressing his newfound friend that he didn't notice the figure until it was far too late. "Well, shit." said Brendan, drawing José's eyes to the figure. "He's seen us now." José mumbled, as he eased off the reins. "No point running." @Wayfarer@Bailey
  5. "Mister Winter, that is a very generous offer and it is much appreciated. I would gladly take it and see that Miss Grimes gets it. She's with my associate, James Vaughn who has some legal background and I'm hoping that he will win her confidence and be able to help her going forward." "My pleasure." Oskar replied, gathering the proffered weapons and depositing them behind the counter. "I... hope you'll forgive the bundle of notes." he continued, as he turned to access the safe behind him. "I don't believe I have anything larger than a few tens." Even some years after the treasury's new notes had come into circulation, they were few and far between all this way out west. Oskar knelt down to his safe and spun the lock three times, counting the clicks until the heavy iron door swung wide. From within he drew those valuable sheaves of paper - six tens, six fives, and ten ones. Standing back up at the counter, he licked his finger and thumbed through the notes, checking them twice, before cordially handing them over to the Marshal. "I believe I have a band around here somewhere, if you'd like..." he offered, glancing around as he searched for it. @Flip
  6. "Now Mister Winter, we need to come to an agreement on how we might split any profits on these guns. Of course the town will pay for any labor from repairs or refurbishing them before they are sold." "Hmm, yes." Oskar mused, eyes watching the ivory-handled weapons. "Well, I'll have to check them over, but six pistols, two fine pistols, and leather... I could suggest to pay you a hundred dollars upfront for the lot? Oh, and consider the cost of the repair work waived. I'll do fine enough from these." It was true; he would do fine from these. The parts would allow him to sell several more guns which would have been otherwise rendered worthless, and the ivory handles would fetch a very good price, even if they were sold separate from the gun. @Flip
  7. Oskar was stooped behind the counter, already scrabbling about in the organs of the weapon. A firing pin here, a cylinder there, the parts from this one could be used to make many more sing. When the Marshal came through his door a second time, it was with relish, rather than indifference that he responded to the call. "Ho, Marshal!" he greeted, raising a grease-smeared hand in welcome. When the rest of his body followed and he took in the returning customer, it was the flour sack at Speed's side that Oskar's eyes were immediately drawn to. "I suppose that's the rest of the items in there?" he asked, indicating the bag. "I have to say Marshal, I'm glad of this opportunity you've brought me. Working with unique guns is always interesting." he smiled for a moment, but then so as not to seem indelicate, he added; "...and of course, to provide a service to the community." @Flip
  8. "See any others? If not, we can head back once these get where they're headed." "Not on this side." José replied nonchalantly. "Unless you wanna explore forbidden territory a little..." José frowned for moment, suddenly struck by the nagging idea that Brendan might be intentionally leading him into trouble. He was new, and his skin wasn't quite the right shade. Who better to blame something on? "Reckon' we should stick to the property." José decided. Even by riding in that short ways he''d already put himself at risk of falling prey to some plot or another. Besides, if there were any cows missing on the Redmond side of the fence, they'd be too far in now to do anything about. "Let's get these two back to the herd, at least." he provisioned. @Bailey
  9. "A pair of nickle plated, ivory handled, Colt peacemakers in four and three quarters inch barrel lengths. Well cared for." "Ivory, you say?" Oskar repeated. "Well I'll certainly take a look." Ivory's price had been rising ever since the routes to Africa no longer ferried slaves, and such trips had become less profitable ventures for merchantmen. "Well, I'll be back, need to stop by and see Gunther about Grimes' horse. I'll have those guns here before days end." "Absolutely. Best of luck Marshal." Oskar offered, circling around to the door so that he could show Speed out. @Flip
  10. José nodded in response to Brendan's direction and watched the seasoned hand begin his process of corralling the cattle. It was obviously quite an involved process, full of hollering and positioning and positioning and hollering, but Brendan had a way about him that made the cow seem obedient as lapdogs. On the opposite side of the gap stood another speckled cow, placidly grazing, and José kicked Loretta into a trot on approach. Quickly the bovine mooed in complaint and turned tail, directly toward the Redmond homestead! "Ay, carajo." mumbled José, shortening the reigns as he cantered around onto the cow's flank. "Con calma, vaca. No te haré daño." he called, mirroring Brendan's actions. Presumably the cows wouldn't care what language they were talked to in. Presumably. Still mooing, the course was indeed altered, and the cow turned back towards the Evergreen property, albeit a little confused and miffed. "Any luck, amigo?" shouted Brendan from across the way. "Sí, one more runaway." José replied, grinning a little at his use of José's own language. They cantered up to bear and Loretta snorted, disappointed that they weren't running any further. @Bailey
  11. Oskar listened to the Marshal's offer and gave a moment to think it over. Outlaws weren't known for their acumen in firearm maintenance, but as Speed said, he was being paid for the repair work regardless. He could at least distract himself from keeping up with the centennial for a time. "Yes, that seems most agreeable. I'd be entirely happy to." Oskar declared, sweeping the pistol below his counter and depositing it in one of the numerous slots and boxes housed therein. "Would you like the cash directly? I could hold off until the repairs are complete and then offer a lump sum in alternative?" He hovered his finger over the ejector on his till, as an accentuation of his question. @Flip
  12. "Oh, the poor girl." Oskar remarked, though already his mind was on the weapon in front of him. He craned over the counter, sizing the machine up and already disassembling it in his mind. Modern colts had gotten remarkably more robust over the last few years what with the advent of centrefire cartridges, but even a good gun could run foul in the hands of a poor owner. "Let's see here..." he mused, as he worked the hammer and began to disassemble the weapon. "Not much rust or corrosion in the barrel... cylinder action is smooth... can't speak for its longevity..." He gave the hammer a squeeze and held the weapon up to his ear, listening for the click. The mechanism sounded like it was in good shape, even if it was clear by the weapon's assembly pins that it had been disassembled several times already. The problem with an aftermarket weapon like this though, is that customers were generally more wary of them, even if they were empirically better firearms. "Well, I can't say I see anything wrong with it." Oskar thought out loud. "In light of the smoothing on the mechanism-and of course the circumstances of poor Mr. Grimes and his sister, I am presently willing to offer fifteen dollars for this piece." @Flip
  13. It was an airy afternoon, and to be entirely fair; Oskar was not feeling all in the mood for work. Slouched in a chair out back, he took idle sips from a little glass of something-or-other (horrible stuff that, not at all like Austrian brandy), and watched the clouds go by. Since the beginning of the Centennial States' fair he'd been receiving word by the day of new advances in the field of personal defense, and it had all become rather exhausting. That wasn't to say he was bored by any means - why, who could be bored of the grandest and boldest instruments ever designed?! His capacity for that excitement was simply experiencing somewhat of an overload. That was why when the little bell trilled its greeting from the inner room, he responded with a sigh rather than springing to his feet. The little wooden bandit sitting at the opposite end of his gun range seemed to sneer, pointing his painted gun at the prone gunsmith, as though he was being goaded into motion by an inanimate object. He set down the glass and pushed himself out of the chair, stretching, straightening his suit jacket and giving his arms a little stretch, before he wandered back into the store where who awaited him but Henry Guyer himself. "Marshal!" Oskar greeted, taking in the pistol at his hand and the look on his face. Even from this distance, the click of the rotating cylinder was audible to Oskar's trained ears, and he knew that the weapon that Speed held was no stock-standard firearm. "How can I help you this fine afternoon?" he continued, moving behind his counter to take up position. @Flip
  14. Soon the numbers of ranch men were swelling across the field, and the two riders up ahead seemed vastly less threatening. With Brendan affirming that he could do something about the cows, José knew he was free to engage the riders, and hopefully take them down before they hit the forest. He gave Loretta another kick and eased her away, out to the treeline. They streaked over the grass, her thumping hooves crushing small twigs as they went. José knew it was dangerous to ride hard this close to a forest floor, but if he slowed now, they would undoubtedly get away. Loretta was snorting heavily, but did not whinny in complaint, sensing the severity of the situation. Seconds passed, José elevated in the saddle, and the little shapes of the rustlers grew. He was two hundred meters out, then one hundred, then fifty... He pulled the pistol from his holster again, and raised it ahead of him. At a gallop, it was near impossible to aim, but the thumbed back the hammer and squeezed a shot off at the man ahead, before quickly grabbing the reins again to avoid losing control. --- Head down, Wayne Baker rode for the treeline like his life depended on it, because frankly; it did. A few cows had entered the forest, and he knew that Clyde and Greene would be rounding them up and getting them away. Hopefully, these cowpokes would be too busy trying to recover the herd to chase them. Hopefully. A shot whizzed over his head, and he craned his neck to check the direction it had come from. Off to his side came a man and a horse, intending to cut off their escape! Drawing, slowing, and returning fire would take too much time; all he could do was run. "Cmon' ya nag!" he cried, spurring on his own horse, and pushing hard for the treeline. Over to his left, Finch saw the shot and mirrored his actions. @Bailey@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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