Chapter 1: A Home on the Range

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Aug 6, 2026 11:22 am
"This is a wonderful house you have, miss Silas," he says after their meal prayer. "It's good to see that The Lord is a staple of this home."

Michael keeps his meal simple by taking some stew, potatoes, and a biscuit. After his meal, and a short story about how a rattlesnake nearly claimed his boot as its home for the night maybe a fortnight ago, he asks Miriam something.

"Afore I forget, I am mighty curious about how those scoundrels from earlier came to be here and went about their deed. Were they simply just rambling by?"
Aug 6, 2026 2:07 pm
With a big smile on his face. Yes ma'am, these good vittles and do tell about those troublemakers and any others in the area.
Aug 7, 2026 12:40 am
Peter puts away his notebook and pencil, dismounts, and brings the horse to the barn by the reins. Then he goes to the house.
"Thank you, ma'am, for your invitation. Having a home meal is a rare treat."

He smiles and takes his hat in his hands. He sits at the table.
"I wouldn't dream of eating without giving thanks to our Lord. And like the Reverend, I'd be glad to hear the story."

Miriam Sackett

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Aug 12, 2026 7:26 pm
Miriam Sackett
"There ain't much to tell. They was drifters hired on as hands to help out around here, and for a while, it worked out, but then they started harassin' my other hands. When ten dollars came up missing, it wasn't hard to guess where it went."
Aug 12, 2026 8:38 pm
Hmm, figured there was something bigger at play. Some goons of a troublemaker trying to get your land or something.
Aug 13, 2026 6:44 pm
Peter has the notebook back out, unhurried, the pencil moving in short strokes that don't try to catch every word — just the ones that matter.
"Hired hands," he says. "How'd they come to you, ma'am? Somebody vouch for them, or did they just ride in wanting work?"
A beat, pencil still.
"I ask because it'll be a help to the next person in a hard place, hiring a hand — they'll know what to avoid. And it might answer some of the concern Mister Django raised."
Aug 17, 2026 3:34 am
Silas enters from stabling Spook

Ma'am, if you've got a wash basin, I'd like to tidy up a touch before dinner....

Miriam Sackett

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Aug 18, 2026 2:11 am
Miriam Sackett
Miriam indicates a porcelain basin and pitcher on a nearby table.
Aug 20, 2026 3:18 am
Tristan sits on his horse, just inside the tree line. Maybe it was his nature or maybe too many years taking bounties or wearing a star, he knew the three by the barn were no good. Seeing that the others in front of him had diffused the moment, he slid his Sharps back in the scabbard. He knew the three that had left had know idea the relief they should feel, not being on the receiving end of a .45-70. It was also a relief for him to see there were still folks willing to talk first and shoot if they must, rather than the opposite. He eased his horse down to the farmhouse. Tying up outside he eased to the door, "Don't mean to intrude, is there food for one more? I'm willing to pay."

Miriam Sackett

WhtKnt Inactive for 1 months

Aug 20, 2026 7:40 pm
Miriam Sackett
Miraim looks up from the table. "I wouldn't hear of it! Never would I turn away a hungry mouth! Come and sit yourself down!" She hurries to find another chair. She looks at Peter. "They was just passing through, asked about work, and this being the season, I was happy to accept."
Aug 20, 2026 7:45 pm
Smiling at Miriam. Ma'am, you sure are hospitable to us, many thanks.
Last edited August 20, 2026 7:46 pm

Miriam Sackett

WhtKnt Inactive for 1 months

Aug 20, 2026 7:48 pm
Miriam Sackett
"S'alright, Mister... Django, was it? My late husband always had the time to help someone in need."
Aug 21, 2026 1:31 pm
Yes ma'am, Django it is. With a thoughtful look on his face. Sorry to hear about your husband. Nothing involving troublemakers I hope?

Miriam Sackett

WhtKnt Inactive for 1 months

Aug 21, 2026 6:00 pm
Miriam Sackett
Miriam shakes her head. "Accident during a cattle drive. He was thrown when his horse got spooked and was trampled."
Aug 23, 2026 9:27 pm
Peter writes it down without comment — drifters, asked for work, season made it easy — and doesn't press it further. Whatever this is, it isn't the kind of thing that arrives with a plan attached.

He closes the notebook proper this time, sets it aside, and looks up as the new arrival ties up outside.
To Miriam: "Sounds like an honest misfortune, ma'am, and no fault of yours for it. Man looking for work in the right season don't come with a warning label." A small, dry note in it — not unkind.

Miriam Sackett

WhtKnt Inactive for 1 months

Aug 27, 2026 9:49 pm
Miriam Sackett
Miriam shrugs. "You're welcome to spend the night in the bunkhouse, unless'n you plan to arrive in town well after dark. I'll even supply breakfast."
Aug 27, 2026 10:49 pm
Peter considers, then says,
"It's mighty Christian of you, ma'am, to offer us a place for the night and breakfast besides. May God reward your kindness — arriving by night is never an easy thing."
Sep 4, 2026 9:04 pm
The night passes without incident, and dawn comes early with the cock's crow. With fast broken, the group sets out again for Redemption. You arrive in the late morning, riding into Main Street. You crest the last rise, the town of Redemption sprawled before you—rough and lively. Main Street runs dusty and wide, boots and hooves stirring up haze beneath wooden porches. The music and laughter you hear belong to the Sinners’ Thirst Saloon—Redemption’s rowdy, beating heart—where piano notes and raised voices spill from swinging doors. Not far off, the two-story frame of the Golden Spur Hotel stands steady and discreet, its welcoming sign promising hot food and softer beds.

As you tether your mounts at the hitching post, folk glance your way. Some nod, most measure. You carry trail-dust and the marks of a long ride. Sheriff Boone’s badge catches a glint by the jail; across the way, Abigail Finch, the hotel’s owner, leans from her porch, keen-eyed, assessing if you’re trouble or trade. Where do you turn? For a night’s shelter and news, Redemption offers both a raucous welcome and quiet comfort—the choice is yours, and the first step into the web of townsfolk, lawmen, and legends that call this place home.
Sep 5, 2026 3:03 am
Tristan takes in the sights of the new town. It was a pleasure to ride into town with a group of, if not friends, at least folks who seem to be of the same, sound mind. Spotting the hotel, it seems lodging would not be a problem, but the Sheriff seems interesting. Crossing the way cautiously, he approaches the Sheriff. "Morning Sheriff, Tristan McCurdy. As you saw, I'm just getting in to town and looking for work. Not trouble."
Sep 5, 2026 3:59 pm
Peter jumps off his horse and beats the dust from his pants and coat. He pulls off the bandana — its color catching a moment in the sun — looks around, and follows Tristan toward the Sheriff.

"Howdy there, Sheriff! I'm Peter Cross, newly arrived in town. I'm hoping word reached ahead of me — I've a printer's press coming, and I mean to set up the first Redemption newspaper. Might be there's a shop already held for it, or might be I've some looking to do myself. Who'd know?"
Last edited September 5, 2026 4:00 pm
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