Beck nodded. "Thank you for the information, Mr. Baxter. You've been most helpful."
He stood and made eye contact with Jeremiah Jones, gesturing that there was a vital clue to follow-up on. He would wait until Jones indicated he was finished speaking with Mrs. Baxter, then advise getting their horses, and making the short trip north, to this church in Pucket's Gap.
Post by vladtaltos on Nov 17, 2015 10:09:15 GMT -5
You both finish questioning the Baxter's and leave. "Oh, yes of course," says the woman to Jones' advice.
Once outside, Jones looks around the tiny house to see if anything catches his eye. Nothing new does he find, but he does notice that the great black smear of...blood was it, that stained the house after Beck blasted the revenant by the door, is now gone. Too, the revenant that fell from the roof, landing behind the house, like its fellow undead, is now gone with the wind.
Walking back toward the horses, Jones reloads his rifle, and unties his rope from the tree. Arriving at the horses, you shockingly find them...okay. You head north.
* * *
Pucket's Gap is smaller than a fly's codpiece. Sitting in a bowl, there's nothing to the "town" but the few places the Baxter's mentioned to you--a general store, a tiny saloon, and a place they didn't mention, a telegraph office. The telegraph office is the size of a closet. All of these businesses are closed.
Slightly up the hill to your right is Mack's Inn, which adjoins a fairly large house next to it. From the Baxter's you know the home is the residence of Mack Peters. All is dark and quiet on that hill.
Opposite the Peters' home is a church that sits on top of a hill to your left, overlooking Pucket's Gap. It's dark as well. No lights or activity come from the town. It's Tuesday. You know the saloon isn't open today. It's about 10:00 p.m., and all of the other shops must be closed for the day.
"I was never much for waitin', Mr. Jones." He points to the church. "But if we are to wait, how about waitin' over there. If my hunch is right. Mr. Pike is our Hoodoo Man, the cause for all this supernatural activity. We let him rest for the night, maybe he regains some of his witch-powers.
"We pressure him right now, maybe he's not so strong, 'cuz he's sure been awfully busy tonight."
"While what you say has merit, I like to know what I'm leaping into. We don't know if he's alone, or even home right now. If we make a move and he's not there, we tip our hand. He might not be so strong right now, but are you sure where he is?"
"If he's not there, he could see us as he returns. Since the building's dark, we'd have to use a lamp. If he's not there, he could see the light from a long way. Or he could have set up some sort of signalling system to alert him if someone's been nosing around."
"We can watch the church from outside and see if he comes or goes. When we know he's there, then we can move in. If he's already there, then we can pay him a visit in the morning without raising any suspicion or alarms."
"I suppose everything you say could be true, Mr. Jones. I also suppose everything you say could be false. But it's my belief, my hunch, and I operate a lot on hunches, is that if we wait, come morning, Mr. Pike will be long gone and we'll never see him again."
He reloads the Gatling pistol to its full compliment of twelve bullets. "In the end, Pike does what he does. You do what you do. And I gotta do what I do. And what I do is put an end to this tonight, or die trying." He smiles. "What is it the Indian's say before they head into battle? 'Today is a good day to die.' Maybe tonight's my time to die, Mr. Jones."
He clicks his heels to Abby's ribs, and heads for the church.
Post by vladtaltos on Nov 18, 2015 10:43:02 GMT -5
Jones remains on the bluff overlooking Pucket's Gap, while Beck guides his horse toward the church. It's about a quarter-mile ride over hilly country in the dark of night, but Beck and Abby cautiously navigate the terrain, suffering no mishaps.
Beck ascends the final hill leading to the church, and at the summit he takes-in the scene. The moon sits in the background, alighting the church in its ghostly glow. Like everything else in this near-town, the church is tiny, perhaps thirty feet from stem to stern. There's no signs of life or activity in the church or its surrounds.
<Oh, my. The party's been split. I'm a multi-tasking GM, I can handle it. Jeremiah, if you decide to join Beck in his "fun" just post saying so. Of course, you're free to pursue some other activity, or remain in place.>
Jeremiah thinks to himself, "Who is more foolish, the Fool or the one who follows him? Well, call me foolish..."
To Gar, "Wait, you're not gonna die by yourself tonight. If you're dead-set on doing this, let's at least be smart about it. Before we do, if you're afraid he's gonna get away, he'd have to sneak past us, when he wouldn't know that we were watching the church and looking for him."
Jeremiah looks for any fresh tracks to or from the church and the immediate area as well as any movement or signs of activity.
Beck rides straight to the front of the church, and dismounts looping Abby's reins to one of the two skinny supports on the church's right side.
"I have many faults, Mr. Jones. A lack of subtlety is one of them." He takes a close look at the front door of the church and tries it, to see if it's locked or not. If it's unlocked, he'll take a look inside.