The Dime Store adventures

[usk-Darastrix]

I'm at work and've been meanin' to do this for quite some time. I figure, if it's over here, I'll be more likely to update it once in a blood moon.
As it is, enjoy the intro set in the old west.

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The feint howl of a coyote echoes across the parched lands, bouncing off the stones and making the travellers feel surrounded. Almost unconsciously, they pull tighter around the fire, the heat already unbearable from the desert night, but the light feeling far safer than the shadow. Leaning against a rock, furthest from the fire, an errant wanderer in a battered Union graycoat takes a heavy sip from his dinged and dingy flask before sliding it away. Finally, when all have stopped moving and their eyes settle on him, this traveler amongst travelers opens his dry lips and speaks.
"Foremost folks, I must extend my gratitude to you for allowing me to rest here this past day and this dark night. As a sign of appreciation for your kindness, I will now provide you with a tale, something to keep the mind off the nightlife baying so desperately beyond the camplight.
As I've no doubt, many of you have likely heard of the outlaw/deserter, Jimmy "iron dragon" Daras. So I'll- what? You haven't?! Surely you jest, attempting to trick the senses of an elderly journeyman such as myself.
You're serious? I truly find that hard to believe. He's had a score of dime novels corrupting his exploits, but, as you're my hosts for this evening, I'll take you to be true and you'll be in for a quite a tale. You see folks, should you follow those prime ten cent books, you'll have heard about "the demon of the north" as he's called. It's said Jimmy came from Canada, a white lad raised within its dense pine confines, who eventually came south to these beautiful states for reasons unknown. He joined the North at the start of war, and slaughtered many a Johnny in the quest for victory, using a stealth unseen by all but the indians and a wicked tendency to shoot for the neck. No one knows why, but one day he just up and disappeared, left the north without so much as a word. One week to the second after that departure, bodies of Union troops began stacking upon the battle field, shot in the neck, a grim reflection of numerous Confederate fatalities. Then, just as suddenly as the bodies began falling to those neck wounds, they stopped, no trace of James ever found by either side. Since then, numerous deaths have been attributed to his hands, some going so far as to associate the many deaths of the unfortunate Donner party to his skeletal hands. This, of course, ignores numerous facts, but it has been assigned to him nonetheless. In the end though, there is only one tale in those books that was ever truly, accurately, connected with the lad and that's the weave that got him is nickname: "Attack on the Iron Dragon." As it is not my preference to quote published material, I'll merely tell you some of the events of that tale, told from the perspective of the Chinese engineer of that particular train. Of the hijackers who sought to steal the cargo of gold from the train, and threatened the life of that poor man. The man who witnessed Jimmy in all his furious glory rend apart the final assailant like a monster from the greatest pits.
To elderly Chinaman's count, Jim stalked along the bulk of the engine as though he was in fact part of it, with ne'er a slip or falter in his step. He was filthy with gore and his features were as black as cast iron from the blood dried so thick upon. At first the man believed this dripping monstrosity with sanguine eyes was in fact a spirit come to devour his very soul, a beast summoned up by the robbers as a final horrible transgression. And yet, as the horror leapt from the engine and landed upon the man who'd held him at gun point, the conductor realized the dark thing before him was in fact something else entirely. Despite its lithe frame it dragged the larger man about like a ragdoll and moved with a confidence in its actions that no living thing was meant to have. It took no time in disarming the criminal, in a most literal fashion as it employed the wheels to sheer through meat and bone, leaving only a bloody ragged stump. As the now maimed hijacker attempted to fight back, this fiend apparently closed its jagged toothed maw upon his wrist and severed the hand with a horrid crunch. Before the scream could even escape the bloody criminals lips, this murderous wretch pulled open the coal chamber and, paying no mind to the terrible heat inside, forced the man's head in. Then, then it allowed the man to scream, at least until there was nothing left but mangled, charred bone contained within its grip. Turning finally, still drip in filth and gore, it nodded to the engineer and fled from cab, disappearing.
They apparently found the engineer, still cowering near the engine. He hid there, he says, not out of fear of the creature, but rather on the chance that more of the hijackers were still about. The rangers informed him that, in fact, they'd all been eviscerated, as though by some wild monstrosity. As they went over the passenger list they found James Daras, who was in fact not only the only man unaccounted for, he was the only man not found dead on the train, or hiding. The engineer still claims that the thing that saved him was in fact the spirit of the train itself, taken form to exact vengeance upon those who would threaten its occupants. It was from this short massacre, further verified by old Union records that say, despite his odd stealth and shooting skill, when James's temper was loosed, truly and completely, nothing short of God himself could stop him."
The storyteller sat quietly for a moment, sipping again from his flask.
"Now that I've finished explaining what any dime store novel would tell you about the illustrious Jim, let me tell you the truth about the man. A man who is by no means the disloyal, horror of a killer those novels portray him to be, but rather a protean lad who is prone to circumstance."
- - -  

[usk-Darastrix]

"I don't believe I'll ever forget the first time I actually saw Jim Daras. It was a blistering hot day, and the stagecoach ride had been intolerable as a result. When we finally arrived, I wasted little time in acquiring my bags and vacating the coach's confines. Soon, it seemed the coach had been the elysian fields in comparison to the sweltering Hell beyond it. Tipping the driver, who was so slick was sweat from the ride he seemed almost more water than man, I headed into town proper. It was there, amongst the bussling crowd of citizenry, that I saw that outlaw, though I didn't know it at the time. To me, he appeared to be merely a drifter, wearing a hodgepodge of clothing, and bearing two peculiar looking handguns. He was squaring off against a rather massive looking fellow some distance away, who appeared more an angry bear than a human being. It was at this point, while examining these two bizarre looking figures, that I was beset by the first several odd companions.
'The one on the left is James Daras. Despite the bullet holes in that union grey coat and those confederate pants, he's actually quite good at not being badly wounded in a gunfight. The bloke on the right is Leonard Itemon. A thug, brute, and all around ignorant sort. He's been harassing several of the locals lately for no real reason, and even set to bothering the fortune teller type over in the travelling show there.
It was at that point that I became interested in who exactly was addressing me. Casting my eyes about, I realized both that I seemed to have been swallowed up by the ever-expanding crowd, now clearly here to watch this shootout. And that not one of them seemed to be paying me any heed whatsoever. A few more seconds of meager searching and I finally returned my eyes to the soon-to-be battlefield. The instant my eyes were back on the combatants, the helpful fellow was talking to me again.
'Jimmy finally got fed up with all the reports of harassment coming into the sheriff's office, so he called Lenny out, and here they now stand, waiting for the clock.
I inquired, eyes now transfixed upon the warriors, as to why it is that this James Daras, who rather thoroughly fit the dime novel description, would be at the sheriff's office and yet not contained behind its bars.
'Dime novels are filth, you must've realized that by now. Yeah, that is the Daras from the tales, but he's no criminal. He's the sheriff in this town and a damned good one at that.
I was astonished. I had realized those books weren't worth the paper on which the ink was spilled, but for them to be so drastically off kilter in their portrayal of an individual was a bit surprising. Especially as I was a journalist at the time, and firm believer in both the freedoom of press, and the obligation to print facts. Before I could quiz the man further about these inaccuracies, James spoke and the crowd went silent. I will do my best to quote him directly, but my memory isn't what it used to be, sadly, so it may not be a perfect quote.
'Leonard Itemon, you stand here today because you're an irritating scumbag who makes life harder for a lot of decent people. Just so we're clear, you know who has accused you and what the probably outcome of all this is, right?'
'Shut it Daras. I can out shoot you any day of the week. And once you're pushin' up daisies at boot hill, I'll be the new sheriff, and ain't nobody'll tell me what to do no more.'
'That is a possibility Lenny. A good one in fact, but I'm a oddly nice man at times so I'll give you a chance to make amends. Apologize to those you've bothered, take you things, leave, and no harm'll come to you. In fact, as a show of faith, I'll even toss aside my guns because I'm sure you'll do the right thing.'
With that folks, and trust me when I say that I am telling you this as it did happen, James tossed his wheel guns forward, each skidding to a stop mere inches from Itemon's feet.
Leonard looked up at the bank clock, as the last seconds counted away from noon, and the looked towards Daras with a crooked, rotten toothed smile.
'Jimmy boy, yur an idjit.' And as the bell began to toll noon Leonard brought his guns to bear. To this day I have trouble completely sorting out what happened, and as that was my job at the time, it should've been an easier task. Itemon's twin revolvers spat fire like a pair of angry demons, and yet Jimmy wasn't there. He was running, quickly, and ducking low to the ground. Itemon swung them down and fired, those burning slugs find an odd sort of purchase. Daras's upper body swung back from the impact while his feet slid and he travelled further from his own force. What's odd were the wounds; both front and back, sand, rather than blood, spilled from the holes. As James slid to a halt mere inches from Leonard's feet, Leonard turned towards the assemblage.
'Yer sheriff's dead, ah'm in charge now. An' startin' now, thin's 're gonna change roun' here.'
Many in the crowd seemed to go a sickly pale at this, and it was pretty evident this Itemon fellow was far from welcome. Then came an odd double click, like a pair of hammers being pulled back on a pair of wheel guns, and Jimmy's voice came forth.
'Lenny boy, you should've taken my offer. Because now, I most certainly am not dead,' a thunderous double clap as two bizarre customized guns spit out their deadly cargo into Itemon's thick throat 'And you most certainly are.'
With that, and a rather stunned look apparently on what was left of Ightmon's face, his towering body crashed down into the dirt. Jimmy then pulled himself from the ground and dusted the sand from his clothing, the cloud dispersing as the undertaker and the deputies came to finish cleaning up after such events. That, my friends, was my first experience actually seeing the "Iron Dragon" in action. After this drink, I'll tell you of my first personal meeting with him, as well as some of the other rather colorful folk who lived in his jurisdiction."
With that, the journeyman drank heavily from his flask and sat back with a rather slight smile on his lips.  

[usk-Darastrix]

One of the travellers gently nudged the elderly wanderer, who had seemingly fallen asleep shortly after the last swig from his flask. The man was awake and aware in an instant, his eyes carrying none of the usual dullness of sleep.
"My apologies folks, I must have nodded off. Anyway, back to the tale...
With Itemon lying dead upon the ground, his vital fluids mixing with the dirt, the crowd began to disassemble, the excitement ending for the moment. James turned and his eyes caught mine, there was an odd amount of pain in those eyes, but also age, thought, and madness, as though this was a man who had lived forever, but not by choice. He walked over to me, a steady, almost unnaturally graceful, gate, still leaking sand from the bullet holes.
'I take it you're a reporter?' he quested as he arrived a mere two feet from my person.
I stammered a yes, honestly still somewhat afraid due to the portrait the dime novels had painted him.
'Did you enjoy the show?' it was then that a young woman, scarcely older than thirteen years came over, dressed in garb more suiting a member of the policing force. She had within her hands an odd satchel. 'Thanks kiddo.' he responded as he took it, before returning those ancient eyes to me.
My will building, as something about this young woman's presence assured me he wouldn't kill around her, I responded that it was most certainly an interesting introduction to the town.
'That? Interesting?! Chummer, you ain't seen nothin' yet.' He snickered slightly before holding out an open hand to the young woman and sliding the satchel within his coat. 'Moo, you're shotgun please.'
The girl instantly complied, handing him the double-barrelled shotgun that had been slung over her shoulder. He took it and swept it behind him quickly, thumbing down both hammers but not actually turning his head. It was then that I noticed Itemon's body was still moving. Despite the pair of ragged holes which had destroy his throat and torn the bottom jaw from his head, he was attempting to stand.
'Hey Itemon,' Jimmy said, still looking at me 'You gonna leave now?'
The body's arms flexed and struck the ground hard enough to shake my standing, popping Itemon to his feet almost instantly. The grisly wounds made it quite evident he was completely dead.
'Hut ou ara.' The cadaver responded through mangled remains. I know this is hard to believe, but trust me, it most certainly did rise, and did attempt to respond. It was to be the first of many a chilling experience within this town.
'I thought as much.' James replied before his finger squeezed. There was a hard slapping noise as the recoil forced his arm to fold, and the shotgun smacked into his shoulder. There was also a terrible thunder of two barrels firing and a sanguine thud of slugs impacting a head. The remanents of Itemon's skull were pulped and his body fell a few feet further back.
Working his elbow slightly, Jim passed the shotgun back to the young woman. 'Thanks kiddo.'
'No problem boss.' she replied in turn, taking the weapon from him.
'Now for you, bucky.' As he was clearly addressing me, and given what I'd just witnessed, I can assure you I was more than a little bit frightened. But I attempted to remain calm and returned his gaze.
'Have you gone to see Ed Wold yet?'
As I was unsure who that was, I could only reply with a trepidacious "who".
'Edward Ofira Theodore Wold. The editor over at the 'Edge of the World news',and the only paper in town. I'll take that, however to mean, you haven't. Kiddo, take this gent to get situated, and then to see the sights around town.'
The girl gave him a slight salute, and a chuckle, and then offered to help me with my bags. I graciously accepted, as to be honest with you fine folks, I tended to overpack back then, and this time was no exception.
As we went to leave, Jim turned and spoke once more.
'A few things: one, don't bring up that Ofira is a girl's name. Ed doesn't like that at all. Two, don't question his love of tea. It's his thing, and most people here have a few quirks. Three, if you're done by sundown, meet me over at BB Corner, and we'll have a drink.'
I merely smiled and gave a slight bow before quickly following the young "Moo." We travelled quickly through the town, seemingly to some destination she knew but I didn't. Finally, we arrived at what looked akin to a manor house from out Mississippi way. After asking me if this was in fact the place I was staying, which I had to assume so as my contact hadn't actually told me where my reservations were, we went inside.
The lobby was rather interesting looking to say the least. Pictures and sailing equipment adorned the walls, all of which featured a rather powerful, if friendly looking, negro, and a smaller but nonetheless well built white fellow, in various nautical endeavours. In every image the pair was together, but the scenes were often drastically separate. Setting my bags down, I wandered over to some to get a closer look.
'Those are pictures of... what was the word Jim used... proprietor and his assistant. They apparently used to be sailors before settling down here.' "Moo" commented on the images as I examined them. Each bore a small crest detailing the location, and what a great many there were my friends. Egypt, South America, China, New Zealand, Greenland, and scores of other locales. I swear to you folks, if there was water, it seems this pair had been there.
It was, however, at around this point, that I was about to rather thoroughly put my foot in my mouth. With my back still to the desk, I heard a voice I was unfamiliar with, also comment on my current focus.
'Yep, that'd be us. 'Jay'and I have had some mighty interesting adventures. More than a few, he's gotten us into by accident, but he's still the best first mate on or off the seas.'
My response to this, which I will attempt to reproduce as best I can, very nearly got my personage thoroughly beaten, gentlefolks.
"'Jay' you say? What an odd name for a negro. But I imagine you're right. One as strapping as him no doubt has caused all sorts of trouble and misadventures. Such is their lot in life though it seems."
It was at this point that I turned around to see the gentlemen addressing me. First though, I caught Moo's face, who looked both annoyed at, and fearful for, my person. Then I saw the individual whom I just remarked to; an older, but still quite powerful, incarnation of the very negro I'd just slightly scathed with my remark. The look on his face very much implied he'd have liked to ram an anchor down my throat, and something still tells me he could've.
Of course, at this point I began to stammer quickly, trying to determine a manner inwhich to salvage the damage to this situation that I had caused. Thankfully Moo stepped in.
'Sam, don't take it personally. This guy's from back east, and still hasn't gotten used to the place. He's stumbled over more than a few things today.' she then turned to me and swung a finger 'Now apologize yuh lout.'
I swear to you folks I was unaware anyone could announce they were sorry, that many times in under a minute. It would've been astounding if it hadn't been a product of my own ignorance.
With that, though, a smile suddenly appeared on his face, and a hearty but gentle chuckle escaped his lips.
'Think nothing of it. Most easterners make a mistake such as that when they arrive. Though none have been so forthcoming as to apologize so hastily. Allow me to introduce myself: I am 'Loyal' Sam Arkand, owner and proprietor of the Sam Arkand Hotel and Dairy farm. I trust you'll be staying with us?'
I could merely nod agreement at this point, still fearful his mood would swing and he would fold me like a map.
'Alright then, I'll get you to sign the guest book and we'll get you situated.' He slid open the book and motioned to the quill in ink.
'So you're showing him around then Moo? How will James be able to get by without his erstwhile deputy?'
'Oh, you know Jim, he has that tendency to try and do everything on his own. I blame his time in the rangers.'
As they continued to converse lightly, I finished signing the book and then returned to the images. It was rare to find someone who was clearly so well travelled, and yet bore no obvious injuries. Rare, and rather impressive. I must've been thoroughly enthralled, because at some point Sam had moved from behind the desk and placed one of his rather mammoth hands upon my shoulder, which startled me to say the least.
'All set then. Here's your key, and your room is just upstairs. Are you going to help him with his bags Moo?'
'Yeah, then we'll continue on.'
'Alright then. Maybe I'll see you at BB corner later, sir, and you can buy me a drink as compensation for the earlier remark.'
I gave an awkward chuckle and made my way up the stairs.
And now folks, I think it's time for another drink. There's only so much one man can say before his throat gets dry.'
And so it went. Another swig from the flask and another stopping point.  

[usk-Darastrix]

A chill wind swept up around the assemblage, the cold lancing their flesh like some beasts terrible teeth. They all seemed to shiver as one, and the journeyman sat up, tilting his collar up.
"It would seem to me, to be a fine time for the continuation of my tale, if nothing else than to ward off more oppressive thoughts.
After we completed the placement of my luggage with the rooms drawers and closest, and believe me when I say, it was truly a fine room, we departed the establishment for our next stop.
The 'Edge of the World news' seemed to describe its location in multiple senses. While I'd not noticed it during our journey in, the city was situated at land's edge, with the newspaper's building sitting at the furtherest most point. The rear of the structures was as neatly against the cliff's edge as one could muster, and I must say I was somewhat surprised at this placement.
I asked my travelling companion as to why it was they didn't fear the cliff face giving way beneath the structure's weight.
'I asked Jim that once. Apparently there's various minerals and such in the cliff that are holding it together sure as you please, that's why they didn't drop off durin' the great quake. Supposedly its that strong they miners can't even blast this face, so they've resorted to minin' down out in the hills. 'sides, you've gotta admit it's a nice view."
I nodded in agreement as we arrived at the door.
"AndI'mtellingyouIdon'tcare. WeneedthosephotosoftheBurkitsvillemassacreandweneedthemnow!"
This buzz of speech collided with my ears moments before a small lad collided with my abdomen. I managed to hold my footing, but the boy fell back with a crash. He was up in a flash and out the door, a trail of harried "Sorry"'s left in his wake. I chuckled at this, considering my earlier interaction with Sam, and approached the desk.
A woman with hair as red as blood sat there, positively vibrating.
"AndistheresomethingIcandoforyouheymoowhat'supwelloutwithit!"
"Enjoying the coffee today Lindsay?"
"OfcourseIam!It'scoffee!Bitterdeliciouslovelycoffee!GottalovemeArbuckles!"
I leaned forward and reached out my hand. She took and it gave it such a vigorous shake that I near expected it to break off at the wrist.
"You'rethenewguyfrombackeasteh?Ithoughtso.Ed'sinhisofficeoverthere.
Gonownownow!"
Her activities were so energized and fluttery I was honestly unsure as to where to go, but then I spied the name plate and made my way forward. "Lindsay" as I'd heard Moo call her, continued to chat with the young girl, who was doing well to maintain her conversation with the frantic clerk.
Knocking upon the door, I heard "Come in" and entered, noting the voice had a mildly english accent to it.
The office was lit orange from the sunset, a massive glass wall displaying the rolling Pacific that to go to the world's very edge. The desk before me was of a most finely crafted cedar, with a slight gold filagree about, portraying various mythological figures. A large, white leather chair sat beyond it, and as the back turned, I was met by a white suited figure holding a most elaborately designed tea cup.
He motioned to one of the three padded oak chairs, and I quickly took a seat.
"For'most, would you like some tea?" He enquired as he lifted a small, ornate teapot from within the confines of his desk.
I smiled but shook my head, citing that I found it a touch too warm for tea, myself.
"I've ne'er found such a state of warmth, but too each their own." He leaned over the desk and held out his hand. "In any case, Ed Wold, at yo'r service."
I shook his hand and introduced myself.
"Oh, you would be the new reporter from the East Coast. I trust you're journey here was well and without event."
I recounted for him the conflict I witnessed upon my arrival.
"Yes, well, that had been long coming. Leonard was quite the ne'erdowell, and to assail the Fortune Teller Sing as he has only made things far worse. In fact, as a witness to those events, I'd appreciate it if you could have a piece written up for tomorrow's edition."
I nodded and went to stand.
"Oh and I just you'll be at the Corner this fine evening?"
I responded that I'd considered it, then asked as to why it was everyone seemed to congregate there.
"Largely because it's a fine establishment, but also because it's the most well protected. Of course, I would imagine you'll receive your answer more clearly tonight."
With that, he turned in his chair, and I was left staring at the back again. Exiting the office, I came once again to the entrance this time without the buzz of speech. Only Moo was present, lightly reading a copy of the paper.
"Already to go?" She asked as she looked up.
I nodded slightly and then asked where the clerk was.
"Lindsay? She left for the bar while you we in there. In fact, we'd best be on our way. 'sgettin' dark now."
As we left, I realized how quickly the temperature seemed to have dropped. While the day had been a blistering hell, this twilight seemed unnaturally cold, even moreso than the winds we just experienced. Rounding a building we came upon a dimly lit street. And at the end of said street was a thoroughly illuminated bar 'Big Bill's Corner' brilliantly displayed.
It was then that I noticed Moo had hastened her pace considerably, having broken to a near run. I quickly hurried after her, and as the last vestiges of daylight sank from view I had the distinct feeling something negative was coming.
But that will have to wait, as I require another sip.