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    • Montgomery the Pocket Gopher had proven to be lots of fun. Once out of his cage he had proceeded to run up Jemima’s arm and onto her head, and the homely looking girl had had to bend forward to allow Weedy to lift him off and give him a cuddle. Despite his vicious looking incisors, he never nipped at his human overlords, they who knew where the peanuts were kept!   Jemima had something else she wanted to show the diminutive lad, and beckoned him over to a glass tank, a miniature version of the one that Lamia slept in. She pointed to a small, anonymous looking spider in there, sitting grumpily under a bit of decorative tree bark.   “See that, that’s a fiddleback spider: they’re the most poisonous spiders ever. And if it bites you a great big ulcer grows on you and you die a horrible screaming death, foamin' at the mouth and blood spurtin' out of your ears and nose!" she said proudly, as if she were personally responsible for the tiny animal’s toxicity.   “And one time she escaped and we had to look all over for her, and eventually we saw her on the back of the Professor’s neck! And Mrs O’ screamed and near fainted, but I got a jam jar and coaxed it on in there and the Professor said I was the bravest girl he’d ever met!”     @Bongo
    • Her smile was a bit wistful as she added, "There's times I wonder if I wasn't born in th' wrong time an' th' wrong britches."   F. Falmer Browne gave an indulgent smile to this but said nothing. He would have to admit to himself that when he had first lain eyes on Miss Adelaide Chappell, now sat before him in all the becoming trappings of a woman, virtually dressed as a man on her wagon-driving expeditions in and out of town, he had wondered. True, male attire was handier for her trade, but she seemed to go that way at most hours of the day, except for very formal functions like the Ladies (so called!) Society Meeting of this morning.   When he had lived in the vast metropolis of New York, that Sodom and Gomorrah of these disunited United States, he had seen two types of women dressed as men: the first were demimondes of the stage, who dressed as ‘boys’ in fanciful tights to merely titillate their audiences (usually successfully, Browne had to admit) with a well-shaped leg, and secondly, some women of the more bohemian quarters who dressed as men because, apart from their physical form, they were men, in their own minds.   Walking with a friend down Broadway, he had seen two such women, walking arm in arm, and his friend had remarked “See those creatures, Browne? Disgusting! God must weep when He sees such sinful animals on parade. The police should arrest them and some Judge put the filthy animals to hard labor on the treadmill.” Browne had, cowardly he now knew, consented, but really wondered if it was not God Himself who had played such a rotten trick on them. At least in New York, teeming with every nation and type under the Sun, two such ‘creatures’ might find each other. For any man or woman ‘that way inclined’ out here in a small town like Kalispell, such proclivities must result in a lonely and loveless life indeed.   Addy’s talk of Jay Ryker and their evident love for one another did Browne good to hear, despite a slight pang of jealousy: it meant that this lovely woman was not destined for a life of loneliness. There must be others in town, though, hidden and trapped in their unusual sexuality, who were destined to ever drink from the well of loneliness.
    • "Oh, well certainly. If you would rather talk there. Anyplace is fine with us," Clara would have agreed to discuss it even if he had suggested the middle of a river. She just wanted to get it done!   The four of them shuffled back to the rear of the church and through the little-used back door, into the main part of the building where the pews were neatly rowed and the pulpit stood empty at the far end.   The man then offered, "I could fix something to drink? Tea perhaps?"    "No thank you, we do not wish you to have to make a fuss on our account," she gently shook her head in the negative.   “Ooh, It’s no fuss Clara! I’ll fix that, Brother.” Arabella gushed obsequiously “You three will want to talk privately.”   She would also, perhaps a little too optimistically at this point, fetch out a blank marriage certificate, for she knew where Pastor Evans stored them. In fact, she’d had a good root through most of the drawers and cupboards in his little office, off the vestry, and found some amazing and interesting stuff. Her favourites were a collection of pictures in a little book which, she assumed, the good Pastor must have confiscated off some sinful parishioner in the past.   @boshmi @Wayfarer
    • "All right, if this has anything to do with getting rid of ol' Klutz, then I'll do it," he said in a slightly slurred tone.  The whiskey was now starting to affect his speech, "Clara's gotta see that I'm the better man."   Crabbe nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to get out of this situation, but he had made a living, the last six years of his life, by exploiting other men’s passions, and this young feller had passion in spades. Lorenzo recognised it for the sort of dangerous, jealous, twisted, brooding passion that so often haunts the hearts of men where women are concerned, and knew it would have to be handled with kid gloves to benefit himself any.   “Problem is, he’s ensorcelled her with these here love poems.” Lorenzo slyly took up a theme that Charlie himself had mentioned. “You attack him, she’ll just cleave tighter to the stupid lookin’ bastard.” He’d never seen this Klutz feller, but it didn’t harm to insult him in Charlie’s presence.   “We gotta work on her.” He said, thinking fast. “First of all, we gotta make you a more attractive proposition, er, make her kinda jealous of you, see? Make ol' Clara see you in a better light. Hmmm, you know any girls? I mean, not like Arabella, pretty girls.”   @JulieS
    • "Well." Thomas declared, sitting upwards in his chair. "I wonder what Arabella has gotten up to. I do hope I haven't complicated anything by bringing her along. Your wife seemed... er... unenthusiastic about her presence."   As if on cue, there was a crashing noise from the distant kitchen and Arabella’s voice sounded an “Ooops!”, but nonetheless, the two women presently appeared, carrying coffee and cake.   “Now, how are you two boys getting along?” asked Arabella, as if Thomas and Gideon were two five-year olds on their first playdate. Mrs Evans attended to the domestic stuff while Arabella jumped up and down, plexing her fingertips together with excitement.   “What do you want me to play on the harmonium, fellers?!” she asked excitedly, just hoping it wasn’t that well-known mondegreen “Bringing in the Sheep” which required notes that the poor old instrument could no longer sound. Arabella always had to substitute other notes in the same chord which made her playing sound like she’d invented jazz forty years too early.   @JulieS @boshmi
Elias Steelgrave

What else Can Go Wrong?

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Mature Content:  Yes Language

With: Elias Hood, Layton Harris, Arlen Granger
Location: Add specific location information here.
When: April 24th, 1876
Time of Day: Mid-Morning, evening, etc.).




The place was straightened up somewhat. Elias was sober, and had been for since news of Cases arrest reached him.

Three men stood in the parlor, two with hat in hand. Elias, his Foreman Layton Harris and the Assistant Foreman, Arlen Granger. This was not a friendly meeting by any stretch of the imagination.

“What the hell has taken you two three full days to gather the goddamned riders I ordered? I meant to have my son out of that jail and home by now.” Elias was fuming. I wanted them sonsabitches in Kalispell yesterday, goddamnit! Not nursemaiding cows!


“For Christ sake Elias, they were all over the spread. They were branding as they found calves, a couple were driving them down out of the hills, but we had men tied up everywhere on this ranch, except here.” Harris shot back. Boss or not, there were situations where men would be all but out of reach. “It’s spring round up, damn it, and that takes every man we’ve got. Cases men are no help, they’re off someplace doin’ whatever.”


“I sent one of the young hands out to find them, but I ain’t heard squat since he left.” Granger piped up. “We got maybe a dozen men that need food and remounts to make the trip to Kalispell. Ya gotta give ‘em some time, they ain’t been here twenty minutes.”
“I gotta give ‘em shit! I pay their wages on time, I expect them to be here when I need them! So you get their lazy asses in them saddles and ride for Kalispell! I want it done now goddamnit!”


“What the hell else can go wrong?” He shouted at their backs as they hurried from the room to help with the remounts and get them going.


With the two of them there would be fourteen men, against two. Kalispell had had it’s fair share of excitement, but that had been five men in the bank job, this would be three times that many! It would be a much different situation, besides, there were another fifteen that had yet to ride in to the home ranch, plus Cases men. If they ever showed.


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Within an hour fourteen men rode out of the Evergreen at a gallop, which they would maintain for just long enough to be out of sight of the main house, then slow to a canter. They all understood what was expected, and they understood they would need to break Marshal Guyers will to hold Case, or kill him.  And then there was the deputy, a reputed gunfighter.


The men riding toward Kalispell were not just cowboys, hardly. Most wee experienced gunmen. Hired gunmen whose main job was to hold or take land, protect the ranch, and ride into harms way, as they were doing that morning.


They also understood it would be broad daylight, almost mid-day when they rode into Kalispell. One thing was certain, there was a town full of people that were veterans of the late war, veterans of Indian fighting, both men and women. This would not be a s simple as Elias might think. No town would be rode over roughshod, the people would not stand for it.


It was a lot to think about on the ride in.


To be continued in "Numbers May Not Be Enough."



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It had gone badly in Kalispell, and badly didn't cover it. They had been out-flanked by three men they all knew and had ridden with, men that once involved would have shot them down with no remorse. The gunfighter Pike and another to the rear of them and Speed Guyer in font. Oh, they had the numbers in a head on fight, but it would ave been anything but.


Harris and Granger had ridden into a hornets nest and had escaped with their lives. But now they had to face Elias, which meant their live may well be forfeit anyway! They had no idea what might happen when they reached the home ranch without Elias' son.  The old man was volatile and they were about to confess their failure to him. 


As the place came into view the uneasiness among the Evergreen riders increased. Many of them considered drawing their pistols to be ready, just in case. There was nothing any of them could have done to have it turn out differently, nothing.


They rode into the yard and Elias was there to meet them.


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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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