Okay, we've got something exciting today!
We present to you a Preview of the Narrative that will serve as the background of the game. You've been so patient that we thought you deserved this little treat. So, sit back, immerse yourself in the setting and enjoy a beautiful piece of fiction.
“Move along, until the light…”
Samuel
Clearwater gave a steady tug on the rope until his captive responded, shuffling
forward awkwardly on her feet.
“Dust
as far as I could see…”
The
sheriff belted out the old trail song in a carefree baritone, his long, gray
mustache rising and falling with each word.
He
picked a broken path among the shadows a bit from the trail, his eyes searching
the ground for signs of passage.
“Three
dead men and one long night, tried to steal my girl from me…”
The
sheriff placed a hand on the cool sandstone, blue in the light of the moon, and
stooped to search a nook in the rock, then repeated the same lines of the song
as he moved along.
In
time he settled into whistling the notes, and held a hand on the brim of his
white hat to keep it from rolling off in the wind.
Up
the trail a ways, Samuel noticed a diminutive silhouette rolling a cart in his
direction, and he turned back onto the road, giving another tug on the rope.
The
girl moaned at the change in direction then followed at a steady pace.
A
lone dwarf in a dusty poncho rattled along the road, pulling a near-empty cart
behind him.
“Stranger…”
The sheriff called out by way of greeting, then spat on the ground.
The
dwarf grunted in response to the two humans, glowering from beneath the wide
brim of his sombrero.
“Seen
a man pass this way?”
“Nope.”
Sheriff
Clearwater smiled. “He’s
dangerous. Killed one of my men.”
“That’s
too bad.” The dwarf pushed his
cart by, rattling as the wooden wheels bounced along the uneven road.
“You
won’t find much business in the Gulch,” the sheriff called over his
shoulder. “Don’t really take to
your kind.”
When
the dwarf was no more than a speck on the horizon, the sheriff left the main
trail and turned into the desert.
“Hiding
in the rocks, Mr. Gorbane? You
don’t need to leave no footprints, long as you keep bleedin’.” Samuel kicked a bloody rock at his feet.
“I
can smell you. Dripping all the
way. Don’t even see much of it in
the dark. Don’t need to.”
Something
heavy shifted in the shadows beneath a nearby crop of rock.
“Drip…
drip… drip. Like a leaky faucet,
Mr. Gorbane. You should have that
taken care of.”
Sheriff
Clearwater crouched to get a better view, tightening his grip on the rope. With his free hand he folded up his old
white hat and beat the dust from his chaps. “You made me get dust on my boots, Salem. That’s alligator skin. Albino. You know how far you gotta go to find an albino alligator?”
Silence.
“Might
as well come out, Salem.”
Samuel
stooped and peered beneath the stone.
The outlaw lay tucked back in the hollow, caked with mud, and clutching
his bloodsoaked shirt at his waist.
“That
bullet’ll finish you off on its own, I reckon…”
Salem
breathed shallowly, his eyes gleaming from the shadows. “Why’d you track me down then? Could’ve kept your boots clean.”
The
sheriff smiled, the curls of his long mustache nearly touching his nose. “I want you to suffer, Salem… I want
you to suffer.”
Salem
Gorbane wrapped his fingers tight around a jagged rock in the mud, and raised
it up defensively.
The
sheriff laughed. “That supposed to
make me forget ‘bout your pistol?
I figure you only shot twice.
But before you do somethin’ stupid, either way, you should know I
brought a little insurance.”
Samuel
gave a brutal tug on the rope in his hand, bringing the girl crashing down
against the rocks, her face cracking loudly against the wet stones. She lay there, moaning
mindlessly, and yet she did not seem to register the pain.
“This
yours?”
Salem
started, then screamed holding his side, and fell back into the mud.
“A
sister, maybe? I don’t know. She was screaming your name.” Samuel chuckled and hit his hat against
the ground. “Anything happens to
me, she’ll likely stay like this.”
He grabbed her roughly by the face, squeezing her lips into a pout. The girl opened her mouth and let out a
long, heavy breath.
Salem
stiffened from pain, too weak to respond, his face white and dripping with
sweat.
His
hand relaxed and the jagged stone dropped back into the mud.
“Good.” The smile dropped from the sheriff’s
face and his eyes narrowed. “Now
let’s talk.”
