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>>5574143
> Wanted: Dear or Alive. Reward: $15. Henry “Loose Hands” Kirkland. A boy. He would steal belongings and even irons from mens’ hands.

>>5574143
Well hells bells, a bona fide, tumbleweed hollerin' Western quest.
Just to make sure this goes somewhere, I will support >>5574154
I just watched Pale Rider for the first time. Good movie.

>>5574143
> Wanted: Dear or Alive. Reward: $50. Rhonda “Rotten”. A grave-robber. She would butcher corpses of men and cook them to then serve to beggars and other unsuspecting guests.

>>5574143
> Wanted: Dear or Alive. Reward: $15. Henry “Loose Hands” Kirkland. A boy. He would steal belongings and even irons from mens’ hands.

>>5574143
>Wanted: Dead or Alive. Reward: $200. Maria “Papoose” Stillwater. A silent killer. A half-blood. She would use her femininity and smarts to poison men and women in ways unknown to the frontiermen until her count was not less than three dozen. Indeed, she was an Indian killer.
Slay the thot

>>5574154
>>5574169
>>5574186
>>5574197
>>5574232

You rubbed your finger into the yellowed sketch of a haggard boy: Henry Kirkland. How long ago was it? Your time-served eyes dealt with hundreds of posters, but “Loose Hands”, as the name they gave him, was the only kid you knew with a bounty on his head. He rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, and so you were in a large town he frequented to make things right.

A thief with no self-control or shame, you remember back then seeing him from a distance pushing through crowds, stealing their belongings and have-ins with innocent motions and a fake smile before reaching you. In seconds, you caught the hand he had over your gun’s holster. It wasn’t the way it usually went for him, it seemed, as the boy’s face turned pale when you tightened your grasp.

Your pearl-handed revolver was polished, engraved, and had a smooth trigger. It was a gem. The boy wasn’t the first to try and steal it from you.

“You want it?” you remember asking him, not waiting for an answer. You then took it out of the leather and put it to his head before taking the shot.

And just like that, the boy was dead. The only kid you had to kill, actually; it was nothing personal. You got 15 dollars for his body, and you almost forgot it all. You slipped his wanted face back into the pile and then turned towards a sudden knock. Your lodge was far from anyone’s eyes, so it was someone uninvited.

> Look out of the window to see if you can spot anyone standing before your front door.
> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.
> Keep the revolver at your hip and approach the door. Ask for the name without opening the door.
> [Write In]

>>5574300
> Look out of the window to see if you can spot anyone standing before your front door.

>>5574300
>> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor

>>5574300
> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

>>5574300
> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

>>5574300
> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

American welcoming tradition

>>5574300
> Approach the door, but stand next to it and take a shot through. Aim for where the head would be on the other side.
Might as well see if that fella's smart.

>>5574300
>> Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

>>5574300
>Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

>>5574300
>Open the door with as much silence as you can and then point the revolver at the visitor.

>>5574319
>>5574331
>>5574357
>>5574360
>>5574603
>>5574638
>>5574738
>>5575058
>>5575351

You knew which floorboards creaked and which did not, so it was the visitor’s turn to be caught off-guard. Tiptoing to where you kept your iron—a wall-mounted rack—you pulled out the revolver and turned towards the door. They didn’t knock again. You knew you had five shots, and you loaded and cleaned it just yesterday. You spun the cylinder to a loaded round and prowled to meet the visitor on your terms. Once your shoulder was touching the hewed wall, you used your hand, and the strength you still had, to yank the door open and raise your revolver.

You had to lower the barrel to have her in your aim, as the person was shorter than expected; she looked just above her tens. She, however, followed the old American hospitality to the teeth, pointing her own revolver at your heart. The gun was old, caked in rust and engraved with dents, and, being as how young she was and how old it was, it was far-fetched that she bought it honestly. The girl’s hair was cut short, was as messy as a wild mare’s mane, and—same as her eyes—had a drab brown hue absent of any shine. Her kerchief was up to her cracked lower lip and looked as if it was black. Once.

Even after retiring, you kept the names and faces of fresh outlaws in mind, and she wasn’t one of them.

> Pull the trigger and shoot the girl in the head.
> Ask her what does she want from you.
> Tell the girl you give her five seconds to get lost before you shoot.
> Re-aim and try and shoot the girl in the arm.
> Charge at the girl with your shoulder to t off balance. You may be old, but she’s a child.
> [Write In]

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.

>>5575437
> Pull the trigger and shoot the girl in the head.

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.

>>5575437
> Pull the trigger and shoot the girl in the head.
Waifufags get the rope

>>5575437
> Pull the trigger and shoot the girl in the head.

>>5575915
>waifufags
if they try to romance a girl "just above her tens", I'm with you.

>>5575437
>> Tell the girl you give her five seconds to get lost before you shoot.

>>5575922
Every quest where a (possibly) sexable female appears turns into a circlejerk of wizards larping a cringeworthy romance they've never experienced irl and I despise that. These situations also happen to pull lurkers/samefags from their rightful place in the trashcan.

>>5575942
YayW clarified in the /qtg/ that this is explicitly NOT a waifu-centric quest, despite his handle, and Plothook-chan is twelve. Let's give her a chance. If we have to shoot EVERY female NPC on-sight to keep a quest on track, it's doomed from the get-go.

>>5575948
Oh that's good to hear. I will keep my vote to shooting out of principle, however.

>>5575924
+1

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.

>>5575437
> Ask her what does she want from you.
We had to take an extra moment to aim, so she could have fired first. I’ll hear her out. Not like we’re being paid to shoot her anyway.

>>5575437

> God damnit, you aren't my kid are you?

>>5576570
Kek. Add that to my vote, QM.

>>5575784
>>5575437

>>5575437
>> Ask her what does she want from you.
>> Tell the girl you give her five seconds to get lost before you shoot.

>>5576570
supporting

>>5575437
>Pull the trigger and shoot the girl in the head.

>>5575441
>>5575444
>>5575476
>>5575505
>>5575784
>>5575915
>>5575919
>>5575924
>>5576014
>>5576161
>>5576282
>>5576570
>>5576585
>>5576635
>>5576788
>>5576808

“What do you want fr-”

“Your soul” —she pulled the rusty trigger— “for his.”

You ducked down into the entryway, shielding your heart and instead having her bullet pierce your shoulder. What was supposed to be a sound of a gunshot was replaced with a loud wail, as real as it could have been. Raising from her barrel was a thick black smoke crackling from within with burning embers. You ignored the freakish-weird and instead focused your attention on killing the brat. Yet, as you tried to raise your hand, you felt a spreading chill, as if you were tossed into the Pacific Ocean. It was far from your first time getting shot—even in your shoulder—but this time it felt different. The girl dipped her revolver away from you; you saw a smirk.

The clear noon sky thundered and echoed and then cracked like glass. Viscous black clouds seeped through the fractures like leaking blood until not even the sun was visible to you. Macabre shadows covered the landscape like hellish waves, and then the wind picked up and began to howl, ghastly blue storms descending upon you and the girl and swallowing you both like a whale. You blinked; it was a mistake. You opened your eyes to gaze at an empty wasteland resembling little of what you called home. Dreadful cold sand dimly shimmered beneath your feet underneath the pale-silver moon with no imperfections or marks—unlike the one you were so fond of—turning the vast mountains of clouds like a silent maelstrom. You saw your bones beneath a glossy veneer of your flesh.

Standing a few feet away, the girl too had flesh as lucent as soft glass, shimmering with hollow blue light and half-revealing her bones.

“It actually worked!” she said, her voice the same as before. She corked the hammer and shook her head, “Yeah, it worked.”

“Good Lord … ” you stumbled, glaring at your see-through flesh and all the bones underneath. Your revolver slipped through your trembling hands into the greyish-bluish sand.

“Lord? Lord is not going to help you here,” the girl said. She crossed her arms. “You better get used to this place, you’ll be spending an eternity here.”

> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.
> Ask the girl what the hell she means.
> Reach the girl and topple her on the ground.
> [Write In]

>>5576834
> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.
Oh shit magic.

>>5576834
>Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.

>>5576834
>Dart for the girl’s gun
Not sure if she can escape, but if she can then the gun is possibly part of the key.

Beyond that, I suggest we chill. She already got what she wanted, and I don’t want to use a bullet we may jot be able to get back. No idea where the closest store is here.

>>5576834
> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.

>>5576834
> Reach the girl and topple her on the ground.
Oh boy, time for the hell dimension. What, was she Loose Hands' little sister?

>>5576841
+1

>>5576834
>Reach the girl and topple her on the ground.
Ghost cowboy time?

>>5576834
>Dart for the girl’s gun

>>5576834
>Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.
FOR FUCK'S SAKE
>>5575948
This is what we get for being reasonable, anon. Should've shot the witch.

>>5576834
>> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.
die

>>5576834
> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.

>>5576834
>Ask the girl what the hell she means.

>>5576834
> Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.

>>5576834
>Pick up the gun and shoot the girl.

>>5576841
>>5576843
>>5576878
>>5576891
>>5576894
>>5576971
>>5577168
>>5577232
>>5577299
>>5577322
>>5577388
>>5577424
>>5577476
>>5577824

You picked up your gun and put the girl in your sights.

She didn’t even flinch. “It ain’t going to work, not here.”

“I’ll try anyway” —you fired a shot— “you damn viper.”

Her clothes and flesh exploded into a fine powder and then settled back from where you shot like thawing snow. She clenched her chest and heaved, she sure felt it.

“Hurts like hell,” she muttered, not bothering to return the shot. She glared at you, “But it only hurts, you aren’t going to be able to kill me here.”

You shortened the distance and punched her across the face with the revolver’s pearly grip, casting her teenage body onto the ground and tussling as she tried to free herself from your tackle. You pushed your elbow down her neck and grabbed a hold of her iron. You kept holding her down with the hand gripping your gun and then swung the cylinder open of hers with another. The was a strong smell of sulphur, almost venomous. The barrel had one cartridge: the shot she fired at you was the only one it had. It wasn’t the gun that did all this… it was the bullet. You felt your shoulder burn as though you were a cattle being branded with a heated iron, the bullet still inside you.

“What did you shoot me with me?” you grabbed her kerchief.

“Lucifer’s Lead, you brother killer.” The bruised girl spat.

“Lucifer’s … ?” You glanced at your wound. The girl spoke like a lunatic, but the desolate nothingness around you tried her words true. The wind’s howls sounded like songs of vultures, the iciness tearing into your transparent flesh, not unlike their claws and beaks. “Did no one teach you not to make deals with the devil, brat?”

“Spare me,” she rolled her eyes. “We are here to make a trade. The only way I’ll be stuck in here forever, like you, if we do not.”

“And what’s the trade?”

“Your soul for his,” she said, nudging her head to the open blue plains. “We’ll find my brother, he’ll kill you, and I and him will return. Safe and sound.”

“‘Loose Hands’ Kirkland?”

Her eyes widened, “You guessed it. Yeah. The kid you butchered for a few bucks.”

You looked left and right. There was nobody in sight. “And where is he?”

She paused, “He should be somewhere around here. Somewhere.” She looked.

> Ask the girl about the details of her deal with the devil, and how she got the so-called “Lucifer’s Lead” nicely.
> Stand off from the girl and begrudgingly agree to search for her brother with her; not like you have much of a choice here.
> Leave the girl alone, as it doesn’t seem like you’ll get much help or information from her. Start walking into you and stumble into a place or a person.
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.
> [Write In]

>>5578069
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578075
supporting

>>5578068
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578069
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

In this place Aug doesn't have to be a professional torturer to keep his victim alive. And he has been cruel for worse reasons in the past.

>>5578069
>> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578069
>> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578069
>> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578069
So she admitted she shot us and ripped out our soul to trade for her brother’s… who will then kill us… and she and her brother will get to leave while we remain behind?

She might be tenacious if she managed to get a bullet that can rip our soul out, but she’s definitely not smart. She’s offered no reason why we can’t walk away and leave her here with her brother forever.

I’m all for walking away and leaving her alone, but I’ll go
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.
since everyone else is.

I like how in the quest where QM explicitly avoids waifu stuff, everyone immediately resorts to beating women

>>5578267
We tried to be reasonable and the bitch send us to hell.

>>5578213
Leave her alone and go where?

> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578271
I mean, we might've had it coming, desu. We were probably hellbound anyway.

>>5578069
> Leave the girl alone, as it doesn’t seem like you’ll get much help or information from her. Start walking into you and stumble into a place or a person.
>Call her an idiot for letting us know her plan, since we have no reason to help her and every reason to spite her

>>5578068
> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.
Scum, just like her brother.

>>5578333
One of the options is to just leave her alone and walk away in what I assume is a random direction.

If we end up dying again somehow, I assume it’d strand her and her brother here since she said he was going to kill us then they’d leave. We could easily make her realize just how much power we still have here just walking away.

>>5578069
> Leave the girl alone, as it doesn’t seem like you’ll get much help or information from her. Start walking into you and stumble into a place or a person.

>>5578069
>> Punch the girl once more for good measure. If she can still feel the pain, then she can talk. Make her tell you as much as possible about this place.

>>5578340
>>5578556
What exactly stops us from walking away AFTER we beat the shit out of her and get information that might be very important for our survival?

>>5578075
>>5578082
>>5578088
>>5578097
>>5578128
>>5578143
>>5578192
>>5578213
>>5578333
>>5578340
>>5578425
>>5578790
>>5579058

You struck the girl in the face. She groaned in pain. There was a crimson tint in her brown eyes as she winced and glared at you.

“Hitting me is not going to make things better,” she said.

You pushed her gun beneath your belt and then held onto her kerchief with both your hands, the nuzzle of your revolver nudging at her chin.

“It’s not going to make them worse.” You lifted her towards your face and then slammed her head against the purplish silt, lifting a satin ring of dust all around you both. She grunted, trying and failing to scratch you with her nails. You tightened your hold. “Where are we?”

“The same place you send him to, you brother killer.”

You repeated the wallop with an impact strong enough to dislocate someone’s neck.

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

She bit her lip to startle a pained whimper. “I don’t know what they call it. I haven’t been here before!”

“Then how did you learn about all this,” you pushed your knee against her rib to nail her to the ground, “and where did you get the bullet?”

“Same place all the deals with the devil are made, you imbecile: the crossroads. I was on my way to take revenge on you when I got lucky.”

Lucky, huh? Your fingers dug into the black cloth.

“You’re definitely not a smart one. What’s stopping me from just walking away and leaving you here? I got no reason to help you now, and every reason to spite you.”

The bruises started to slowly vanish off her face as if they were dirt marks washed away with soapy water. Through pain, she let out a gagged chuckle. “Leave to where? Sure, I was expecting Henry to be here, but I’ll find him. You are not going to escape from us. All we have to do is find you again, won't be a problem.” She kicked your side with her knee.

“You brat-”

Before you could gift her another whack, you harked a drunken echo. You lifted your head towards one of the four horizons. Melding into the phantom fog was a figure stumbling left and right with unstable steps. They were too far away for you to make note of their features, and distance deafened and choked whatever the person was saying ...

> Leave the girl alone and go meet the man with your revolver corked and steady.
> Leave the girl alone and go meet the man but first put your revolver in the holster.
> Leave the girl alone and then rush away from the man in the opposite direction. You are not ready to meet the locals yet.
> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.
> Grab the girl and force her to go meet the figure. Hide in the hanging fog and watch from a distance.
> [Write In]

>>5579192
> Leave the girl alone and go meet the man but first put your revolver in the holster.

>>5579192
>> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

>>5579192
> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

Immortal meat shield

>>5579192
> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

>>5579192
>Leave the girl alone and go meet the man with your revolver corked and steady.

>>5579192
> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

>>5579192

Tell her: I know I'm a bad man but the people I put in the ground were scum, and if her brother ended up in hell with Lucifer then he's just as bad me.

Then force her to walk in front of me to meet the shambled man

>>5579192
> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

definetly not letting go of our tourguide.

>>5579192
>> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

>>5579192
>> Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.
"YouAndYourWaifu" hits a bit different in this one, huh? Good, good.

>>5579192
>Grab the girl and punt her towards the figure. Walk with her first to meet the figure.

>>5579199
>>5579203
>>5579211
>>5579220
>>5579230
>>5579236
>>5579283
>>5579342
>>5579400
>>5579459
>>5579677

“You may call me a bad man-”

“You are.”

“ … but the people I’ve put in the ground were scum. If this place is Devil’s hell, and your brother ended up here, then he’s just as bad as me. Seems right?”

Outraged, she tried to knee you a second time but you pushed more of your weight onto her body to make it impossible. She clenched her fists instead.

“He’s only here because you slew him,” she raised her voice. “Scum?! Because some big hat thought to put his face on a wanted poster and promised to pay some soft cash to anyone who’d bother? That suddenly makes it just?” She fought for breath. “He didn’t kill anyone, you are not fooling yourself here. You killed a stainless orphan.”

“So you say.” You shook your head, tightened your grip, and stepped off her body, yanking her along by her neckcloth. The girl squealed as you swung her around in an arch and then, twisting her arm, punted her towards the figure. “Let’s go meet the locals,” you said at her look of disdain.

She grunted. She made a handful of attempts to break free, but with each one, you tightened your grasp and continued corkscrewing more until the pain made her relent.

Both your feet sunk in the otherworldly fog as you came nearer the person in the distance. A middle-aged man, you realised after a few steps more. His body was like worn cloth, glinting with a phantom silvery hue and exposing his skull and bones. He looked just like you, the girl, and, you felt, the rest of the damned you were going to meet here. He looked your’s old age and had a dishevelled blond beard reaching his chest. His eyebrows were as thick as bushes and his nose looked like it should be on a hog. He took note of you. He waved to approach. He stumbled onto the ground and, for a moment, went missing in bluish fumes. The girl halted her footsteps. She bared her teeth at you as if she was a leech ready to bite.

You focused your attention on the sandy cloud. The man lumbered through, leaning left for one moment and then right for another, barely managing to stand.

“Howdy, you two look like a pair of schmucks,” he said with a voice as coarse as sand and as biting as thorns. On his belt, he had a short blade. He lifted a jug and put it to his lips, drinking on its filling. After an exaggerated ‘gulp’ and ‘ah’ he looked at you and lowered the jug. “I’d love to share the spirit, but I can’t, not a lot left.” He excused. He then took another swing. “I would say I don’t recognise you, but that’s almost everyone I come upon recently.” He swallowed the spirit and then briefly laughed at his own words.

The girl stood in seething silence.

“Name’s Bill.” The man waved the jug. “You two got a name? Got killed recently or long ago? You two killed by the same cowboy, I reckon?”

> Tell the man your real name as well as your nickname, and see if he recognises you.
> Come up with a different name as you are unsure if telling your real name is a good idea.
> Tell the man that she was the one to kill you only an hour ago if time works the same here.
> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.
> Twist the girl’s arm and make her talk while you keep your silence.
> [Write In]

>>5580031
> Tell the man that she was the one to kill you only an hour ago if time works the same here.
> "Bitch made a deal with the devil to be able to do it"

>>5580031
> Come up with a different name as you are unsure if telling your real name is a good idea.
"Name's Nathaniel Armison. I'm not dead, just stopping by."

>>5580031
>> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.

>>5580030
> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.

>>5580031
>Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.

>>5580031
>> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.

>>5580048
+1 support.

Also ask how long he's been here

>>5580031
>> Tell the man that she was the one to kill you only an hour ago if time works the same here.

>>5580220
>>5580048
+1 plus
> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.

>>5580031
> Twist the girl’s arm and push her further to make her reveal her name first.
> "Bitch made a deal with the devil to be able to do it"

>>5580035
>>5580048
>>5580061
>>5580086
>>5580158
>>5580183
>>5580220
>>5580237
>>5580324
>>5580472

You twisted the girl’s arm and pushed her towards the man. She niggled yet stumbled forward.

“Goldie Kirkland,” she whispered, grinding her teeth as if to jag the words she spoke, “and I’m not staying here for long.”

Billy smirked, tossing and circling the jug. “That’s what they all say. You’re a rare breed, Goldie. Ain’t a love of womenfolk here, especially doves your age. You are whammied,” he said before drunkenly leaning forward to see your hold on her. He looked at you from beneath, his eyes sullen and glassy, “And what about you, stranger?”

“Nathaniel Armison, and I’m not dead, just stop-”

Goldie cleared her throat, “ ... Who?” She smacked her back against your rib cage and then squinted at Bill, “He’s Aug, the ‘Only Dead’ Heart, the ‘bounty hunter’.”

You struck her leg and then yanked her arm until you could -see- the bones curve and tremble. Yet, despite the pain, she looked down with a twisted satisfied smirk.

Bill belched and, with some effort, straightened his shoulders and back. “Can’t hold a grudge against you for trying to tuck away your identity, Aug. So … you two?”

You sighed, it didn’t seem the man knew of your virtues. “This brat killed me an hour ago or so if time works the same here, does it?”

His eyes opened. You waited as he bent his nape and pushed the jug’s neck twelve O'Clock, shaking it until he got the last drops. He sighed.

“Darn it … I’m all out,” he said. “What was I saying? I reckon her story matches? You’re in luck, Aug, there’s only one way to find rest in those cursed badlands, and that is to bring judgement and justice.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and, wincing in pain, gripped the greying locks, “So all you have to do is kill the girl.”

Goldie glared sideways as you kept her still, “No, I’ve tried that already. It was the first thing I did. It didn’t work.” You shook your head, “What is this place?”

“You tried?” he blinked, “Are you sure? The few lucky men I saw get their revenge, vanished, and they looked quite happy about it … though the ones slayed not so much.” His legs trembled as he fell on his rear and sighed, “If you’re scared that this is Hell, don’t be, there are still places further down.” He put the empty jug on the ground and paused. “Believers call it Purgatory, but I don’t think that’s it. I’ve been here for a while, Aug, but it’s hard to keep track of time, through … there are those with a pocket watch.” He laughed at his own words. “This here is where those killed go, be it from a bullet or other means. And I mean slain, no illness or old age, as those don't. I’ve heard a lot of names used: the Endless Walk, the Plains of the Slain, the Land of the Killed, but my favourite is the Graveyard Frontier, just got that romance.”

“Everyone who gets a bullet ends up here?”

Bill reached for the jug before remembering it was empty, “More or less.” He looked at Goldie who was struggling, but doing it only for a show of disobedience and pissed animosity, “But I can’t say what happens to you after justice is done, though it’s unlikely it’s anything worse, and I’m not really sure why it didn’t work for you.”

“I’ve got a clue,” you said. “Wench made a deal with the devil to be able to kill me.”

This was like a splash of cold water for the old man. “Deal with the devil? That’s new.”

She spat. “Your only business here is to get shot by my brother.”

Bill deliberated before he raised his head. “How many people have you killed, Aug?”

> Lie that you didn’t kill anyone but her brother.
> Tell Bill that you killed a few outlaws or so.
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
> [Write In]

>>5581338
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
>"I only go after those that wanted dead"

>>5581338
>> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
I kill for business not pleasure. But I'll happily kill this girl if it is what it takes.

>>5581338
>Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.

>>5581342
+1 support

Ask Bill who shot him to end up here, and if he needs any help finding his murderer, you are a bounty hunter after all, and he might have something worth more than petty cash

>>5581338
>> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.

>>5581339
+1

>>5581338
>Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.

>>5581338
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.

>>5581338
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.

So if those killed by the bullet need to kill their killer, how many will be gunning for Aug's head?

>>5581338
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
> Ask what happens if a killer kills one of their victims again. Anything special?

>>5581591
Yes.

Next update tomorrow but I want to ask y'all to tell me how would you like August to refer to this place in future updates:

> Purgatory
> The Endless Walk
> The Plains of the Slain
> The Land of the Killed
> The Graveyard Frontier

>>5581649
Either
> Purgatory
For simplicity
Or
> The Graveyard Frontier
For the coolest name

>>5581649
> Purgatory
Love dem classics

>>5581338
>> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
It's a duty.

>>5581649
> Purgatory

>>5581649
> >The Graveyard Frontier

>>5581338
> Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
Remind him, that we were serving justice, and whack the pogchamp over the head when she starts talking shit after hearing that.
>>5581649
>The Graveyard Frontier
Agreed with Bill. The bery best.

>>5581649
>The Graveyard Frontier

>>5581338
>Tell the truth, dozens and dozens of wanted, just below half a hundred.
I only kill people who someone wanted dead. Well, except for this stupid girl.

>>5581649
>The Graveyard Frontier

>>5581339
>>5581342
>>5581357
>>5581375
>>5581390
>>5581392
>>5581525
>>5581583
>>5581591
>>5581614
>>5581658
>>5581812
>>5582340

You let your eyes wander the black-and-blue terrain and the emptiness of the Graveyard Frontier.

“Dozens and dozens of wanted men,” you said. You took in the numbing air, “Just below half a hundred, I reckon.”

“How many?” Goldie stuttered as she stomped on your boot and the sand around it, “I knew you killed a few, but so much? You’re a mass murderer!”

“I’m a bounty hunter,” you said as you pushed her away from the reach of your footwear, “I only went after people wanted dead, girl, and those people were outlaws. Often I was the only man for the job in all of the county, and they were all scum.” Goldie squirmed in vain. You sighed and turned to Bill. “It was my duty.”

“If they were all like my brother, you only seem to kill innocents!”

“No, they were worse. Your brother was the most pathetic of the bunch,” you whacked her over the head though it did little to calm her.

The man reached for and from the jug. “I’m not judging,” he said, his voice tired yet light, “but you’re not going to have a fun time here, Aug.”

“Because of the villains I killed?”

He nodded. “They are all in the Graveyard Frontier, and they’ll be gunning for your head because it’s first come first serve here. Once you’re judged, the others are not getting the luxury of salvation, although it does not mean they won’t try.” He pushed one of his hands onto his knees and tried to stand up.

You frowned at your dismal prospects. “And the only way for me to be free is to kill the girl?”

Bill knee’s trembled as he stood up. “That’s the usual way, yes, but you already said you tried to?”

“I’m telling you, it’s worthless,” Goldie twisted her head to meet your eyes, “You can’t get rid of me until my-”

“Until your brother shoots me,” you nodded your head listlessly. “Yes, I heard you the first time.”

She harrumphed and tossed her shoulder against your chest before you twisted her arms further.

“Darn it … and now, apparently, you have dozen of men after you? You can’t die to any of them, that’ll be the end of me too. Wait until we find Henry!”

“I’m not biting the dust” —you furled her wrist and then tossed her onto the ground— “to anyone; not to your thief of a brother. You’re the one who got us here, so let’s find a way to put your ‘immortal’ body to use.” You turned to Bill who was behearing without interruptions. “What happens if I killed any of those who killed me?”

“They’ll disappear, for a while, but, unless someone who died ‘cause of you, and you are still unjudged, they’ll come back, as other souls do. There’s no final rest here otherwise, so, if someone you didn’t put to death during your lifetime, a random soul, or a beast, kills you, it’ll be the same for you. Still, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why?”

“If you die here your soul will return, sure, but the pain will stay. Get your hand cut off? You’ll feel it. Get torn apart by the Pack? Likewise. The pain remains.”

You looked up and down at the old man. “Have you died many times here, Bill?”

Bill's smile was short and weak, “A couple, and it does hurt, but I make do with the spirits.”

At least your life was safe with souls unaffiliated with you. “Who shot you for you to end up here? You need help finding the rattlesnake?”

The man chuckled and then picked up the empty vessel. “Wasn’t a bullet, but a cold sharp pickaxe.” He placed his fingers on the top of his skull “Got it right here, just because I found a nugget of gold before he did, that son of a gun.” He shook his head and looked up at the rumbling ragged skies. “But he will likely never come.”

“Why are you so certain?”

“At some point, I know he’ll be too much of a corpse to die to someone else. If old age or an illness takes him, he’s not going to show up, so I’m stuck here forever.”

“What if he’s here but you don’t know it? If all the people killed by someone else are walking those plains, that means it’s massive and sparse?”

He nodded. “It goes on and on, this Graveyard Frontier. But I’ve seen it happen a few times. If your wrongdoer presents himself, you will know. You’ll be certain.”

“Instinctively?”

“You won’t know exactly where, but you’ll be certain he came.”

Goldie gasped. “Doesn’t that mean everyone this dirtbag killed knows he’s here?” Her eyes widened, “As so much Henry.”

The yellow-belly boy was the least of your problems. You pushed your hand on the barrel of your iron: three bullets counting.

> Is there anything else you would like to ask Bill?
> [Write In]

>>5582499
>how the body works here, we still need to eat and sleep?

>>5582503
>how the body works here, we still need to eat and sleep?
> What is the easiest way to get more bullets?

>>5582551
>>5582503
+1

>>5582499

> Any landmarks or gatherings around?

>>5582499
>Is there someone who roams this place I should know of?

>>5582499
Does Aug have a knife? Any other weapon besides his gun, the girls gun, and 3 bullets?

If not, ask Bill if we can have his empty jug. We might need it to fashion a shiv, and shivs don't need reloading

>>5582499
>"Anything else I wanna know about this place? Do you need to eat here? Can you summon ammunition out of thin air?"
>>5582497
So let me get this straight, we're equipped with a living little-girl ballistic shield? Well then. Not many things get more metal than this. This is great, actually.

>>5582551
Supporting

>>5582551
+1

>>5582551
+1

>>5582503
>>5582551
>>5582560
>>5582576
>>5582701
>>5582731
>>5582798
>>5582844
>>5583235
>>5583274

You swung the cylinder back and pushed the cylinder’s gate shut.

Your eyes followed the barrel as you put two of your fingers inside your mouth. There were many times you escaped death by an inch, but in your deadly brush with the $1000 man, it came to a half a second. He had his iron between your teeth and his rubbery fingers around the trigger. You were half a second faster. You briefly bit your fingers and pulled them back, drying them against the spectral cloth of your vest.

You shadowed your thoughts. “Do we still need to sleep, eat, or drink?”

“Do you feel hungry?” he asked, trying to hide his pain with a smile.

You tapped your stomach. You felt no cramps of hunger and the only craving you had was for the taste of food, not the filling it gave you.

“As for thirst …” —he hesitated— “it’s also not something you usually have to worry about.”

“And who ever heard of a ghost that sleeps?” Goldie said mockingly.

“I am making sure. You know just as little as me, you brat.”

Bill nodded and then sighed. “No dreams, no naps, no shuteye. If you’re killed, that’s will be one of a few times you’ll be in a haze until your soul puts itself back together.”

“And how long does that take?”

“Sometimes a day, sometimes a few, sometimes a week.”

“Right, nothing is consistent in this hellhole.” You squeezed your hands open and close. “I’m going to need more bullets, what’s the easiest way to get some?

“You’ll need feeble iron, they call it, from the El Dorado Warren. They use it to make some goods here, but mostly knives, guns and ammo. They do, but it won’t be as good as yours; like the name suggest it’s feeble, fragile. Short-term solution. Doesn’t matter with a bullet you’ll shoot once, but for a revolver, it’s very annoying.”

“Is that some kind of mine?”

“Aye, but you shouldn’t go inside, souls that do often don’t return. From those that did, you can buy feeble iron or fool’s gold or more outside or in the towns.”

“There are towns here?”

Bill drunkenly bowed his head, “A couple, but they weren’t exactly built …” He winced and rubbed his head.

You scratched above your eyebrows “And you know how I can get to any of the two?”

Bill unbuttoned the worn collar buttons of his canvas jacket and pulled out two leash necklaces braided like barbed wire, a small black stick hanging from each one. He carefully raised them in front of himself and nudged his head, inviting you to look. Goldie shook off the sand and dust you dropped her in and elbowed her way before you and Bill. You grasped her shoulder to push the girl away, but she was too petite to block your eyesight so you decided not to bother. The two pieces of chalk flowed off his palm upwards and then jerked in two opposite directions as if something was pulling them from the haunted horizon.

“I have no idea where we are, Aug, but if we walk we might stumble upon a town I haven’t even been to before. However, if we follow the chalks, one will lead us to the town of Overreach, and the second to the El Dorado Warren.”

Goldie narrowed her eyes. “You have no idea where we are? How are you here then?”

“I drank” —he smiled — “I drank a lot.”

Goldie was not convinced. She turned to her brows furrowed and her brown eyes stared into yours. “We are going to the town! Henry is most likely to be there.”

“And if we go somewhere else?”

“We’ll stumble upon someplace, someone, or something … eventually.”

> Suggest that you go to the El Dorado Warren.
> Suggest that you go to the Overreach.
> Suggest you avoid those two places and walk in the opposite direction.
> [Write In]

>>5582731
> Does Aug have a knife? Any other weapon besides his gun, the girls gun, and 3 bullets?
When he usually leaves the house he usually carries a revolver, a brass knuckle, and a few knives, but since Goldie caught him off-guard he only had his revolver on him. You can ask for the jug but Bill appears to be very clingy to it.

>>5582701
This will be asked in the next update.

>>5583542
> Suggest you avoid those two places and walk in the opposite direction.

>>5583542
>> Suggest that you go to the Overreach.

>>5583542
> Suggest you avoid those two places and walk in the opposite direction.

>>5583542

>Suggested that you go to the El Dorado Warren

We need bullets and we've got a burner gun. Get some extra knives while we're at it. See if they have any explosives too

Also, let Billy keep his growler. If there are towns then he'll be able to refill it

>>5583542
> Suggest that you go to the El Dorado Warren.
Bullets will be very handy, with 45-ish men gunning for us.

>>5583541
> Suggest that you go to the Overreach.

>>5583542
> Suggest that you go to the El Dorado Warren.

>>5583545
>>5583546
>>5583643
>>5583701
>>5583825
>>5583851
>>5584171

After a moment of deliberation, you pointed to one of the two chalks; though you did not know which pointed where you acted as if you did.

“Let’s go to the El Dorado,” you said, trying to sound like one of those Conquistadors of old.

“No!” Goldie said. She stomped the ground and then swung her fingers at Bill like a gun. “Don’t listen to him, lead us to the town!”

Bill’s cloudy eyes meandered between you. He scratched his scruffy neck. “They aren’t that far from each other, but I'll go with his call."

Nudging his head, Bill looked at both of his necklaces and then tucked them underneath his shirt. He took the first step and you trailed behind him.

“We don’t have the darn time.” Goldie bent her knees and slapped them in frustration. “I’m not going along with this,” she said, “I’ll go and find Henry myself.”

She spat on the ground, eyeing you like you were a snake in the grass. Then she began to walk away. You came to a halt and turned around to apprehend the girl, but she unexpectedly stopped, not going that far. With her back turned towards you, she clicked her tongue. “Another one.” She spat the words in annoyance and warning, her eyes trained on something in the distance.

Just in view, there was another silhouette drawing closer with each step. It looked more shaded and murkier than the moonlit heath it walked across, and the pale blue fog couldn't cloak its shape. The figure was clothed in shreds and tatters that flailed and trashed in the damned squall like featherbare wings on a rotting bird carcass.

Bill turned too, his eyes briefly flashing white as he gripped the knife’s handle. “That ain't no man" - he brandished the cold iron - "that's a leftover.”

“Unfriendly?” You cocked your gun halfway.

He shook his head. “Not even if you had a noose around its neck. You can't reason with that thing."

Goldie withdrew back. “If it’s not a man, what is it?”

“Natives are spared from this place, but they still bring a part of them here. A residue that wasn't enough for - their - afterlife; their grudges, aimed at us. There's plenty of them here, more than us dead men.”

“How easy are they to put down?”

“If you compare them to the other fearsome critters? Not that hard, but the longer you fight it, the harder it makes for you.” Bill cleared his throat. “It’s slow, but if we continue, we might lose it. They are a persistent hurdle, so it might take us a few hours to get it to lose interest so we better start moving. Lucky for us, we have the space. ”

> Shoot the head of the leftover with your revolver.
> Ask Bill for his knife and then go and deal with the Indian ghost up close.
> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.
> [Write In]

> Also please tell me what you’ll do with Goldie: ask her to come along to help or drag her with you to the fight or send her as a distraction or let her stay back?

>>5584531
> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.

> Take your chances with the Leftover if you want, but I'm headed this way.

>>5584531
> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.

>>5584538
+1

>>5584529
>Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.

>>5584538
Supporting.

>>5584531

>>5584531
> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.
> Ignore her, she'll either follow or get herself respawned.

>>5584531
>> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.
>leave the damm bitch

>>5584538
+1

>>5584531
> Nod to Bill and start walking, hoping to get far enough for the leftover to leave you alone.
>Bring the bullet shield

>>5584538
>>5584705
>>5584711
>>5584770
>>5584893
>>5584949
>>5585028
>>5585178
>>5585504

“Mm-hmm,” you agreed. You turned your head at Goldie. “If you want to take your chances with that thing then go, you rodent, but I’m headed that way.”

Goldie gasped. Her eyes widened at the ghost drawing near. She looked at the back of your head as you and Bill continued in your retreat. She cursed.

*** *** ***

The chilling bleached moonlight floodlit the sand as you moved further and further away from the vengeful ghost. Bill was right—no matter how further away you got from it, it pursued. Your steps were slow as Bill draggled behind you. Were you alone, you reckoned, you could lose the corpse in a matter of minutes, but together with the tired drunk man, it took, most likely, an hour or two. Even after its black outline vanished in the skysill, you didn’t feel like you were out of harm's way yet. Goldie followed ten feet away. You heard as she spat and whispered annoyed curses while also keeping her distance.

“Is there anyone else roaming this place I should be aware of? You mentioned some ‘Pack’?”

As Bill walked, he kept squeezing the top of his head, as if trying to scratch an itch left by the pickaxe he was executed with. “Yes, there are black fur beasts, oversized dire wolves, with red eyes, their desire to hunt stronger than their hunger. They travel in a pack of dozen, and once they decided on a soul, they keep returning for it. They follow the prey everywhere he goes and tear into the body until the spirit is tarnished. They hunt others for a while but then resume their pursuit. Day after day after day as the soul is brought back with more and more memories and torments of being ripped apart and eaten alive. The soul goes mad.”

Goldie took a deep, relaxing breathe, as she heeded his words.

“Anyone else?”

“A Wendigo,” he answered coldly. His gaze trailed against the eroded gravel. “Remember how I said a soul returns if killed? Well, not if you meet the Wendigo.”

Before you could ask more, you noticed a bluish glow in the distance, luminous skin stretching over bare bones. You paused as a young boy came into view. Goldie shoved between you and Bill and then wriggled through to stand in front of you. Her eyes widened and her breath shortened.

“Henry?” She leaned forward.

> Shoot the boy from a distance.
> Grab Goldie by her neckerchief and stop her.
> Let her go and watch what happens from a distance.
> [Write In]

>>5585587
> Shoot the boy from a distance

>>5585587
> Let her go and watch what happens from a distance.
If it’s not Henry, we should see her slow down before she gets all the way to him. If she hugs him or something then we’ll know to shoot.

I don’t want to use a bullet if they’re not someone who is going to attack us.

>>5585587
>> Let her go and watch what happens from a distance.

>>5585587
>> Let her go and watch what happens from a distance.
bitch can get killed for all i care

>>5585623
Supporting this clever plan. Plus,t hen one bullet can do both of them.

>>5585587

>>5585614
Changing my vote to support this
>>5585623

>>5585623
+1

>>5585587
>Let her go and watch what happens from a distance.
>Calmly ask Bill if we can find out where she'll reappear if killed.
>Also explain what's the deal with her brother, so he knows for sure we were not just gunning little shits for sport while alive.

>>5585623

What a plan! Let's do this for sure

>>5585623
supporting

>>5585851
Bill already knows the deal with Goldie, Henry, and us. Goldie spilled the beans a few posts ago. Bill said he wasn't judging.

>>5585938
Yeah fair I guess.

>>5585614
>>5585623
>>5585638
>>5585710
>>5585744
>>5585753
>>5585784
>>5585851
>>5585914
>>5585920
>>5585938
>>5585940

You did nothing as Goldie darted towards the boy, tossing sand with each of her heavy steps. She stopped in front of him and dropped her head to catch her breath. The words they began to exchange were out of your ear reach, but after a few seconds, the girl grasped his hands and her transparent skin turned fervent. After a few seconds more you drew out your revolver from its holster and focused the two bodies in your aim. They continued talking, Goldie as if fully forgetting you.

You drew out but eventually pulled the gun’s hammer all the way; it clicked as it locked in place. Even if he’ll reappear, you’d rather not be near anyone who has the power to end you. Then, from the corner of your eye, you noticed a second presence, much closer. You swung your arm and circled your body to have the person at your barrel’s end.

As if born from the featureless cold fog stood a woman it took you a moment to recognise due to her bare bones and lucent jelly flesh. It was a friend from a bordello you were frequent and shame-free of visiting, Mercedes. Her brown eyes glowed with amber and red tones like pools of liquid gold. Her loose coal black laid upon her shoulders and unfurled on her back like a veil. Her lips were broken into stripes of white and pale orange. She had the same two brass earrings with a dust of gold as the last time you had met. She wore a moon-bleached dress with flared skirt and a chemise underneath.

“Heart?” Her voice was soothing and soft. Her lips quivered as she smirked. “And here I made a bet that I’ll never see you here.” She spread her arms for a hug.

Mercedes was someone you spent many nights with; she did everything you asked her for: from the obvious to ironing your clothes, singing, participating and outplaying you in cards, and more. She then disappeared from the brothel, and neither the madame nor the other girls knew of her whereabouts. If she was here, then she was killed.

You looked at Bill who wavered and then shrug his shoulder at you. You glanced at the siblings, still lost in each other’s company.

> Approach Mercedes and hug her.
> Greet Mercedes but keep an insulting distance.
> Shoot the boy and Goldie first and then turn your head to talk with Mercedes.
> [Write In]

>>5586454
> Approach Mercedes and hug her.

>>5586454
>> Approach Mercedes and hug her.

>>5586454
> Approach Mercedes and hug her.

Shoot first and ask later is tempting, but if his first reaction isn't to immediately gun for us I'd like to know why.

>>5586454
> Approach Mercedes and hug her.
Just keep an eye on our bullets. It’s fair to assume this place changes people.

It is kinda weird they’re just chatting away and not trying to kill us. An ambush would have made far more sense, and I was expecting it to not be Henry as a result. Maybe some complication with how we were pulled here?

>>5586454
> Shoot the boy and Goldie first and then turn your head to talk with Mercedes

>>5586454
I'm supporting
> Greet Mercedes but keep an insulting distance.
or straight up
> Shoot the boy and Goldie first and then turn your head to talk with Mercedes.
I don't care who the IRS sends, I'm NOT getting distracted. Think of it, the whore who we have a soft spot to is a PERFECT bait for someone like Aug who's always on high alert around everyone.

>>5586454
> Greet Mercedes but keep an insulting distance.

>>5586454
> Approach Mercedes and hug her.

>>5586457
>>5586468
>>5586493
>>5586516
>>5586782
>>5586840
>>5586880
>>5587235

For now, you let them be; they had no irons, no blades, and they were at a safe distance away. You smiled at your friend and approached her.

“It’s been a while, Sunset Jay, or is it fine now that we are both walking dead to call you by your name?”

Bill got up, looking unsteady on his feet and, throwing you a glance, he walked away towards Goldie and Henry. Was he giving you a moment? Would he keep them on a leash? You wished so.

Mercedes lifted her smile further by taking each corner with her fingers. “I suppose, señor Heart, there’s no reason to keep it a secret.”

Again, she spread her arms. You came to Mercedes and wrapped your arms around her in a loose but intimate hug. Her head fell on your shoulder and cuddled your neck. You savoured the moment, burying your face in her raven hair. Mercedes was quiet, her breath soft and precious, meant only for you.

Then Goldie screamed. “No! Stop! What in tarnation are y'all doin'?!” Her sudden outburst caught you off guard, and you turned your head to where she stood, held in her brother's embrace like you were holding Mercedes. Next to them was Bill clutching a knife in his grip, the sharp point of which was in the boy’s head. They whispered for a moment before she yelled again. “What the … ?! Henry? Henry let go!”

You leaned away, or so you tried. Mercedes’ head scratched your ghostly skin, and then, as you struggled to break the hug, prickled into your body like cactus thorns. She prolonged the silent hug. Your lips dried as you began to thirst for the first time here. The more you tried, the more it hurt. As you fought to lift your head, your shoulder’s bullet wound was harshened and inflamed, burning like it was envious of the new pains you were cheating on it with.

“Mercedes, please let go of me." You echoed Goldie. You heard no answer.

“Come back, you old timer!” Goldie yelled.

You heard footsteps approaching you. Unable to lift or turn your head, Bill did you the courtesy to walk behind Mercedes and meet your gaze. He lifted the knife and stabbed it above her ear, thrusting the entire blade within. Even then, she didn’t say a word or let out a whimper. After a few seconds, Bill withdrew the knife and then placed his jug on the side of her head. She began to bleed but, rather than crimson and thick, her blood was clear and runny, with a faint greenish sheen.

Bill watched the liquid spill out, trickle down her cheek, and pour into the jug. “She’s not your friend," Bill said.

“I figured,” you replied. Your hand grasped the iron’s grip but your arm was skewered firm by invisible soul-draining barbs.

“August, I beg your pardon, but there aren’t many ways to get alcohol down here, and this is one of a few. I’m a slave to the spirit.” He waited until the wound stopped leaking before chugging the drink and then sighing like a man spared by a bullet missed. “That hits the spot.” He swirled the container with a forlorn expression and then took one of the necklaces off his neck, watching the black chalk lift and suspend in the air pointing further ahead. He tilted his head, “If you follow that way you’ll get to the mines.”

That said, Bill made sure he was out of your gun’s reach. He scribbled a black chalk cross on the woman’s cheek and, as he made the distance, you noticed it was pointing at her. He sighed. “I should’ve brought something with a cork, but they aren’t easy to come by … ”

Goldie continued to shout insults and scream in the background.

“Have you lured us into a trap?” you asked in a calm voice.

He took another drink and shook his head, swallowing it with a gurgle after. “No, horseshoe luck, August. We call those things” —he glanced at Mercedes— “Prickly Niceties, they are like otherworldly cactuses that feed on remains of the souls, or directly from them like with you now, to make the spirit. Even if I tried now, I don’t think I can unfetter you straight off”

“Swell. So what now?”

“In a while, not soon, they’ll cram full and their pricks will turn soft and you’ll be able to escape. You’ll feel the thirst, so I would advise drinking from the source.”

You tried again to raise your arms and push yourself free but, at all the once throughout your body, there was yet another agonising sting as the Prickly Nicety kept you glued to it.

“If you struggle, it’ll get more painful for you, August. You might be able to do it, but you know … the pain loves to linger. And if you can’t, it might be enough to kill you.”

“I’ll be reborn then?”

He put the jug’s neck to his lips. “Yes, with horrible pain, and thirst, and it’s unlikely it’ll be here.” His body began to waver and dance, bluish bones slipping into the mist and air. He noticed this long after you did, though he seemed unsurprised. “I reckon I got a mite carried away with my spirit …” Bill’s chuckle felt forced. “Guess it's my time to disappear somewhere else. I'll see you yet, but I hope you find a way outta here before that."

> Ask Bill something before he disappears.
> Curse Bill and tell him you’ll impale him on an alcohol cactus next time.
> Part with Bill in silence.
> [Write In]

> Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.
> Struggle through the pain to free yourself from the piercing embrace even if it’s going to kill you.
> Turn to Goldie who is supposed to be immortal and shout at her to free herself and then help you.
> [Write In]

>>5587610
>Part with Bill in silence.
>Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.

>>5587610
> Curse Bill and tell him you’ll impale him on an alcohol cactus next time.

> Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.

>>5587610
>> Part with Bill in silence.
> Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.

>>5587610
> Curse Bill and tell him you’ll impale him on an alcohol cactus next time.
> Struggle through the pain to free yourself from the piercing embrace even if it’s going to kill you.

>>5587610
> Part with Bill in silence.
> Experiment with escaping the plant. If it’s not actively killing you, you have time to work out a better way to get loose than grit and anger.

>>5587610
> Part with Bill in silence.
> Experiment with escaping the plant. If it’s not actively killing you, you have time to work out a better way to get loose than grit and anger.
Told ya this was a fucking trap, but nooo, qsties must get their hands on the first woman they see, even if it's a literal whore straight from hell.

>>5587641
+1 support

>>5587836
I’m beginning to appreciate that. Just need to calibrate that trust/distrust meter.

Trust the girl to (try to) keep us alive long enough to get her brother to kill us.
Don’t trust figures from our past, friendly or otherwise
Don’t trust the locals unless we know what’s in it for them.

>>5587610
> Part with Bill in silence.
> Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.

>>5587610
>Part with Bill in silence.
>Accept the cards dealt and wait until the Prickly Nicety has enough of your soul and lets go of you.

>>5587641
>>5587743
>>5587761
>>5587769
>>5587827
>>5587836
>>5587936
>>5588068
>>5588184
>>5588341

You knit your lips and then gave Bill nothing but a restrained glance. The man understood and said not a word more. A few moments after his body faded away like smoke and embers, and soon even those ceased to exist. You bruised your neck against "Mercedes’" lingering presence and then let out a sigh. Why would Henry be here, in the middle of nowhere, and show zilch of interest in you? He didn’t even spare a glare. Hindsight covers the gold. Were you to die trying to free yourself, your soul—according to Bill—would come together and reawaken somewhere else … Away from Goldie, and without directions. You accepted the cards dealt; there was not much of a choice for you here. You had to wait until the Prickly Nicety had enough of you. You closed your eyes and let your body feel numb and soft, giving your best shot to ignore the stinging needles of your friend-shaped cacti and your gnawing bullet wound. You tried to meditate, to nap and you managed to do so for a while until another yell barked you awake and worsened the pain like hundred needles twisting in a ring.

“Hell!” Goldie’s screams echoed beyond the ghastly terrain, rumbling like the mountainous skies above. “Darn it! Gah! Let freaking go of me!” You could hear but couldn’t see what was happening with her.

Her raucous angered cries disrupted your quiet rollicking. Goldie would shut up for a brief moment of peace and then resume shouting in pain and anger the second after … You considered joining in with the yelling, to tell her to shut up in case she would attract unneeded attention, but you felt too in need of a drink to care. You just had to wait a bit more.

“Oh shut up!” you heard her say for the last time and then fall silent.

You then heard the sand squeak and crush under her shuffling boots as she approached closer, freed and without wounds, walking behind the Prickly Nicety to hitch up her hazel irises.

“You’re as thick as molasses. Seems like shooting people is the only thing you’re good at, you brother killer.” She approached, clenching her hands. “And punching girls.”

“Seems like you and I both fell for that trick,” you said. Her immortal soul gave her an edge to free herself, unlike yours. “How could you not tell it wasn't your brother?”

Instead of responding, she went towards you, bit into your hand and crushed your stalled fingers between her teeth. You felt rippling pain as your grip weakened and your revolver dropped onto the hollow soil. Goldie let go of your hand and picked the iron into her hands, distancing herself from you.

“You snake,” you hissed, unable to grasp your hand.

She turned and grasped the iron barrel, glinting the pale moonlight against the ridged metal. “Is this the gun you killed him with ... ?"

You spat as your eyes darkened. “Right, that’s the same one.”

She inspected it more, opening and closing the bullet cask and then drumming the pearly grip. “If he sold it, we would be able to eat for at least a month.” She looked at the ground and then settled down on the ground. Her knees flapped like butterfly wings as she steered the iron to your head. “You’re so fortunate I could only shoot you once."

You bit your cheek. Likewise.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“Bill said it can damage my soul, and make things worse. If I just wait, I’ll release me eventually.”

“Just wait …” Goldie echoed as she played with the trigger. “You won’t be here long enough for me to find the real Henry and come back, would you?”

“He didn’t say how long it was going to take, but even if he did, why would I tell you?”

She rubbed her forehead with the gun. “You’re a bastard’s son, you can’t just make it easy and right for me,” she said. “We are going to find him together, but I’m keeping this.” She took out the three bullets and put one of them back into the barrel, separating the others in her front pocket. “To make it harder for you,” she said, taking a deep breath of dry cold air.

“It might take days.”

“Ain’t surprising me,” she said. She eyeballed “Mercedes” and narrowed her eyes further. “I heard you killed women, what I am surprised about is that someone is sticking by you.”

“Ain’t your business, rodent.”

“I bet it’s someone who you made stay with you by force,” Goldie’s expression was empty as she said so. She was silent.

“You know how old I was when you butchered Henry?”

“I don’t—”

“Seven, when you killed the only family I had,” she said with her hands trembling. “I endured for five years to get my revenge on you … you are not taking this away from me.”

You felt your throat brittle and your lips crack. How much worse was this thirst going to be?

> Ignore Goldie and just … wait.
> Fight the Prickly Nicety and try to free yourself, you are not going to be outdone by a kid or listen to her lectures.
> Bite into “Mercedes’” neck and drink the Prickly Nicety juice to clench your thirst.
> Tell Goldie she should focus her hate on the person who put the bounty on Henry.
> Tell Goldie she’s a much worse shot than you and if you’ll be without a gun it’ll make it harder for both of you.
> [Write In]

>>5588675
>Ask Goldie if she ever found the person who put up the bounty for her brother. Don’t respond further.
We’d been told to drink from it to kill the thirst, but I’d like to hold off. That’d probably extend the process a bit, and I’d like the MC to know how bad it can get for future reference.

When it’s finished, we can drink our fill.

>>5588695
+1

>>5588675
>>5588709 +1

>>5588695
Supporting as well.

>>5588675

>>5588695
+1 support

>>5588695
Supporting

>>5588675
>>5588695
+1 for mindfuck

Apologies, no update today.

>>5588695
+1

>>5589930
Thanks for letting us know

>>5588695
>>5588709
>>5588736
>>5588767
>>5588813
>>5588881
>>5588967
>>5589930
>>5590320
>>5590362

You licked your lips, but it did little to help.

“What about the cad who issued the bounty in the first place? Have you found him?”

Goldie huffed. “What about him? You’re the one who -killed- Henry.”

“Bounties have a tendency to stick around,” you said. “If he had lived to old age, it would’ve found a way to outlast him.”

“Spare me,” Goldie clicked the hammer. “Even if that’s true, any other hunter would’ve simply caught him, not kill! My beef is with you, Heart.”

“You misjudge how much easier it is to bring a dead body than an unwilling one.” You chewed your tongue, sucking your moisture like a cure it was not.

She knit her bushy brows. “No, it’s just you, for the sake of your precious reputation. ‘Only Dead’ …” She scowled at the surroundings. “Imagine how safe you would be if you didn’t kill.”

“The victims of the people I dealt with should be walking here too.” You averted your gaze and said no more.

You leaned towards "Mercedes'" neck, as you did many times before when you met. Her cloying yet fake scent toyed with your feelings and truths. However, you didn’t wish to kiss her, but to bite into the chunk of flesh and drink the liquids inside; even if it looked and sounded like her, this was a blue yonder cactus. You understood you wouldn’t be cannibalising a woman's ghost. You tethered your teeth shut until the grinding noise echoed inside your head. You couldn’t drink now, while you were still trapped in its embrace, how would you clench your thirst after? Your attention returned to the girl once she shifted her weight and stood up. She cursed under her breath and then stepped to circle you and away from your eyesight.

“One of them is here again,” Goldie said. There was a brief silence between her words and the sound of the gunshot ricocheting the air, followed by a reek of acrid smoke.

“Another of the Indian ghosts, or is it the same one that followed us?”

“I missed,” she muttered. Her nails scratched the metal as you hear her unlock the cylinder and cluck the cartridge she took out before.

“You missed.” You felt your dehydrated body quiver. One more precious bullet less. “How could you miss? If it’s too far, just let it come closer!”

“I don’t want it closer. Didn’t you hear what the codget said?”

“Leastwise you’ll hit your mark.” Or not. “When you were gunning for my heart, standing just a spit away, you missed too! Have you ever even fired an iron?”

“More than enough times,” she said, her voice indecisive. “I’ll make sure this one won’t miss.” Her voice hitched up a confident tone.

> Allow Goldie to shoot the Leftover on her own.
> Instruct Goldie how to properly hold a revolver and fire a shot.
> Ask Goldie to hang you the gun. Force, through pain, your head and one of your arms from the prickling clutches of the Prickly Nicety so you can fire a shot.
> Tell Goldie she’s going to waste all the bullets and to just let the Leftover come close enough for her aim to be effective. Will she listen?
> Tell Goldie not to waste any more bullets and instead lure the Leftover on the Prickly Nicety which took the shape of her brother, and then try and push it onto it. Will she listen?
> [Write In]

>>5590962

> Tell Goldie not to waste any more bullets and instead lure the Leftover on the Prickly Nicety which took the shape of her brother, and then try and push it onto it. Will she listen?
If that fails,
> Instruct Goldie how to properly hold a revolver and fire a shot.
Ain’t like she’s going to be shooting us often. If she kills us, we just respawn elsewhere and she has to track us down again.

>>5590966
> Tell Goldie she’s going to waste all the bullets and to just let the Leftover come close enough for her aim to be effective. Will she listen?
while we wait...
> Instruct Goldie how to properly hold a revolver and fire a shot.

>>5590966
> Tell Goldie she’s going to waste all the bullets and to just let the Leftover come close enough for her aim to be effective. Will she listen?

> Instruct Goldie how to properly hold a revolver and fire a shot.

>>5590966
> Ask Goldie to hang you the gun. Force, through pain, your head and one of your arms from the prickling clutches of the Prickly Nicety so you can fire a shot.
Stupid little shit. We need to stop listening to this fucking teenager, she'll be the death of us.

>>5590992
>>5591007
>>5591049
Do you really want to instruct the one who wants us dead the most how to shoot a gun?

>>5590966
> Tell Goldie not to waste any more bullets and instead lure the Leftover on the Prickly Nicety which took the shape of her brother, and then try and push it onto it. Will she listen?

>>5591337
She can shoot us, but she only gets what she wants if her brother kills us. If she kills us, we teleport elsewhere and we could get ganked by someone else we killed, trapping her and her brother here forever.

Teaching her how to shoot the other things that want to kill us is reasonable to me with that in mind. We can teach her all sorts of things to kill people and be pretty safe honestly. It’s teaching her things like how to tie knots to leave someone trapped or disable them so they can be taken alive that are the dangerous things. Seems like Aug wouldn’t know much about that though.

>>5591337
Its not like we are giving her instruction for years at a private gun range man.

>>5591362
>>5591412
Fair points, I'm just overly paranoid. That being said, let's try to not have to rely on her in general.

>>5590992
+1 support

>>5590966
>Instruct Goldie how to properly hold a revolver and fire a shot.

>>5590992
>>5591007
>>5591049
>>5591335
>>5591340
>>5591541
>>5592031

“You shouldn’t waste any more bullets, you rodent,” you said. “Try and lure that Indian ghost to the thing that’s ain’t your brother, and see if you can push it into it.”

It took her a few seconds to respond. “I’d rather not,” she said, likely glaring at the Prickly Nicety in the shape of her brother. “If you let go of it, they continue to pretend they are who you think they are.”

You let out a tired, thirsty sigh. “Fine, at least let it come as close as you can allow. I can’t even hear the thing, it must be too far. You can’t just hit the eye of the needle with your lack of abilities.”

“I’m not an amateur,” she said. “I just need to keep its head in the sights and then …”

You cringed at her words. The breath you took was like a burnish to your throat. “Straighten your wrists,” you said, remembering the screwup pose she was on your doorsteps, “and lock your arms.” She was silent, and you couldn’t see whether she was even listening or not. “Hold it with both hands,” you resumed, “one hand on the grip and the other supportin' it from below; that iron’s too big and heavy for teenage hands.” Distant wind sheered and howled as if trailing around the Leftover. The coldness of its bite gave little relief to your predicament. Christ, with gale this strong even you would have a problem with your shots. There was no way, it would be impossible for her to hit. “Are you listening to me or not?!”
“I know all of that!” she said, fumbling with the gun.

The increasing wind began to deafen your words. You ignored her response and, with a hurting raised voice, continued. “How far is it? The further that thing is, the more the bullet's gonna drop. You gotta aim a little bit higher than where you want the bullet to hit, or you’ll be hitting the hills and the sand. Align the two sights. Level them with it. Keep both your eyes open.”

There was another loud bang as Goldie pulled the trigger. The gunshot died in the bellowing of the gale. Goldie crudely unlocked the cylinder and patted her pockets for the last bullet.

“Damn it.”

“You missed again,” you monotoned. “I swear if you miss the last one, you better go and tussle with it.”

“I’m not going to miss this one!” she said. “I’m … getting the hang of it.”

“Let it come even closer!” You raising your voice with demand and authority.

“ A few steps closer, fine.”

“You’re not tossing the cartridges here, you are firing a revolver.”

She harrumphed.

“Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, and put some weight on your dominant foot a little further back. When it’s close enough, take a deep breath, and as you exhale, slowly squeeze the trigger. Slowly. Unlike your rust, my gun is well-kept, and so is the trigger.” You sighed and then waited, there wasn’t much else you could teach her with your back turn, and only a few seconds to instruct her.

The gun fired, the brief sound echoing like a whisper through the hollow grounds, again dying in the tempest. You heard Goldie lower the gun and let out a sigh of relief.

“Did you—”

“I hit it in the ribs, but it vanished none the least. I guess it only takes one bullet.” You heard her voice become clearer as the winds began to weaken and settle with no ghosts to cling to.

> Praise the girl on the shot well made.
> Stay silent and wait until the Prickly Nicety finally releases her grip.
> Chastise the girl for wasting three bullets, if another of those Leftovers appears again, what will she do then?
> [Write In]

>>5592416
> Stay silent and wait until the Prickly Nicety finally releases her grip.

>>5592416
>> Stay silent and wait until the Prickly Nicety finally releases her grip.

>>5592416
> Stay silent and wait until the Prickly Nicety finally releases her grip.
A sigh of exasperation is fine too.

>>5592416
>Chastise the girl for wasting three bullets, if another of those Leftovers appears again, what will she do then?

Fuckin' hell now we know why she was orphaned. Can't listen or be taught

>>5592416
> Chastise the girl for wasting three bullets, if another of those Leftovers appears again, what will she do then?
Fucking called it.

>>5592416
> Chastise the girl for wasting three bullets, if another of those Leftovers appears again, what will she do then?

>>5592416
> Stay silent and wait until the Prickly Nicety finally releases her grip.

>>5592418
>>5592449
>>5592535
>>5592589
>>5592773
>>5592785
>>5593071

You let out an exasperated sigh but said nothing more. You couldn’t see how well—if even—Goldie followed your guidance, but you reckoned she didn’t listen. She returned to where she sat earlier. You decided to close your eyes and ignore her. You counted the seconds but the thirst and pain made a mess of the numbers. Minutes, maybe ten, maybe twenty, passed by until you finally felt the prickly pear soften and its thorns wane; not completely, but enough to break the deadly hug. You gasped and immediately choked on how sore and dry you found your throat to be.

“Maybe stay, señor Heart?” Prickly Nicety spoke in the voice of your friend as soon as you stepped back. Again, she raised her arms and, with a charming smile and glistening sunset eyes, offered you a hug.

You shook your head and swallowed what little moisture you had. Your eyes crossed over Goldie’s as she stood up off the ground, your empty gun tightly gripped in her petite hands. You reached for the rusty iron she send to the Graveyard Frontier with, and the only thing she left you. You took it out and, once more, meet her glare. You two stood in uneasy silence, neither willing to speak.

The heavens rolled in the distance, each smoke-darkened cloud smashing against another like a stampede of buffalo, the thundering clatter far but reaching, with a windy howl ringing beneath those strifes. Yet, the deathly moon hung in full view. The begrimed curls of unfortunate clouds caught in the intimate dance with the pale lady got torn asunder, rejected by an invisible maelstrom. It was an unfading hour of the night, but the specks of two more shapes somehow were darker than anything surrounding it: the cause of the disorder in the sky.

Goldie noticed it too, her fingers squeezing the iron. Your lips were parched, each crack begging for a drop of water that there was nowhere to be found … You turned to the Prickly Nicety.

“Ni siquiera a farewell hug?” Mercedes' mirror-image asked, her illusionary coal black hair weightlessly flowing in the wind like shadowy ribbons. Your hands quivered at her presence.

> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Even if this Mercedes is fake, you just can’t lift your hand against her … go and see if you can get the juice out of Prickly Nicety that looks like Henry.
> [Write In]

> Let Goldie keep the revolver without bullets.
> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.
> Use your adult strength to plant Goldie on Prickly Nicety which looks like Mercedes to stop her from following you and have the approaching Leftover focus on her.
> [Write In]

This was a close vote!

>>5593565
> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.

> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.

>>5593565
>Smash the rusty iron against the arm of your false-Mercedes to satiate your thirst.
Avoid the face. I’d go fuck Henry up instead just to upset Goldie but that cactus won’t have much juice.

> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.
It’s our gun. Not hers.

She can have the rusty iron back though.

>>5593565
> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.
Playtime's over.

>>5593565
> Use your adult strength to plant Goldie on Prickly Nicety which looks like Mercedes to stop her from following you and have the approaching Leftover focus on her.
> Even if this Mercedes is fake, you just can’t lift your hand against her … go and see if you can get the juice out of Prickly Nicety that looks like Henry.
AND take back our gun.

>>5593565
I'll change my vote >>5593916 to:
> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Plant Goldie on the cactus to stop her from following you and have the approaching Leftover focus on her.
I somehow missed the last option

>>5593942
+1 support

>>5593565
> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Plant Goldie on the cactus to stop her from following you and have the approaching Leftover focus on her.
>And take back the gun

>>5593565
>Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Let Goldie keep the revolver without bullets.

>>5593565
> Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.

>>5593565
>Smash the rusty iron against the skull of an image of your friend to satiate your thirst.
> Wrestle Goldie and take back what’s yours.

>>5593916
>>5594021
Oh and just to prevent confusion, I'm a phonefag.

Apologies, no update today.

>>5594624
S’all good. We can wait warmly.

>>5594624
Thanks for the heads up, QM!

>>5593649
>>5593763
>>5593916
>>5593942
>>5594021
>>5594026
>>5594031
>>5594036
>>5594068
>>5594417

You spat with reluctance and then raised Goldie’s weathered revolver above the Prickly Nicety’s head, holding it by its barrel. Her eyes kept her unique half-friendly half-flirtatious glint. Your grip faltered, and you swung down, smashing the wooden grip against “Mercedes’” shoulder to break asunder the ghastly plant and crack the release for the liquid inside. She continued to smile as if the pain was unknown to her and as if you did not just break shatter her shoulder. You cupped your hands and lifted them inches from her skin, collecting the bleeding nectar and then drinking on it. It had no smell, but tasted refreshingly cool and slightly sweet, with a much-needed bite of alcohol. You drank until you no longer felt any thirst.

You were a soul, but it did not stop the alcohol from intoxicating you, though not much. You felt softened and smoothed, it felt like dozen of invisible hands were gently kneading and squeezing your luminous flesh. The spirit not only got rid of your horrible thirst; even the pricks and the gunshot wound in your shoulder were masked by the alcohol. You glanced at “Mercedes” one more time and then, drying your hands with the cloth of your vest, you stepped away from your temptation.

Goldie watched. You approached the brat, the uneasy silence continuing to hang in the air. You reached for her with a heavy swing, one she stepped away from to the side but you followed to intercept. She shifted her weight and attempted to escape to the opposite flank, but her movements were blatant, and you seized her shoulder with one hand and the revolver she was holding with another. You tightened your grip and disarmed her, swaying the iron far away from her reach. Tailor-made grip again sank on the cushion of your palm. Goldie tussled against your hold, clutching into your arm and trying to break free. To her visible dismey¬, she couldn’t even move it an inch.

“I’m taking it back,” you said as you stared down at her. “It’s just a piece of pig iron in your hands.”

“You forfeited the right when you shot Henry with it!” she shouted, continuing to struggle even though the futility of it was obvious.

You sighed. “What kind of logic is that?” You shoved her back; Goldie stumbled and fell on her rear. Her irises shrank. “It’ll only be just if he kills you with the same gun!”

“Well” —you yanked out the rusty revolver from your belt— “he won’t. Neither from my iron or any other.” You tossed Goldie’s revolver back to her feet. “You can have this one.”

Her brown eyes darted from the gun to you and back. With a snake-like hiss, she leaned and took it and then, with the face of a scolded child, she pushed her knees to her chest and frowned.

“Yo te extrañaré, Heart,” Prickly Nicety whispered with, you imagined, kind smile. You didn’t look back to confirm or answer. Bill did not explain whether it only took the form of Mercedes because of what you thought, or if it only had the capacity because Sunset Jay was actually here. You hoped not, for as much as you missed her, that girl deserved to still be alive, or die from old age in her sleep.

You didn’t invite Goldie to follow you, but she of course did. The two of you ventured further and further into the Graveyard Frontier, relentlessly pursued by the wicked blackish ghouls. After an hour of voyage, you and Goldie spotted a tangible translucent mirage, an ethereal glow of house contours and outlines nestled on the edge of the horizon clustered together; not a town but a place resembling a ranch. However, the buildings were not made out of any lumber known to the living—at least not your forty years of life. The wood was pulsating and shimmering with ghostly blue and cloudy green hues.

> Detour to check the homestead.
> Tell Goldie to go check the homestead if she wishes, while you’ll wait for her here.
> Continue moving to the El Dorado Warren
> [Write In]

>>5595893
> Detour to check the homestead.
What’s one possible deathtrap compared to another? Don’t want her going alone in case she finds something useful and tries hiding it.

>>5595893
>Detour to check the homestead.

>>5595893
>> Detour to check the homestead.

>>5595893
> Continue moving to the El Dorado Warren
>>5595961
Well, we can avoid this one.

>>5595893
> Continue moving to the El Dorado Warren

>>5595893
> Continue moving to the El Dorado Warren
A detour in White Western Hell, while oursued by Indian grudges and undead gunslingers? No thanks.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Well shit.

>>5595961
>>5595984
>>5595997
>Detour to check the homestead.

>>5596128
>>5596143
>>5596237
> Continue moving to the El Dorado Warren

File: 01220-124116829.png (1.43 MB, 1024x1024)

1.43 MB PNG

>>5595961
>>5595984
>>5595997
>>5596128
>>5596143
>>5596237

Goldie moved towards the homestead, but you did not. You looked around behind your shoulder for your shadowy pursuers, those you could no longer see but knew were still on your trail. This place wasn’t even a town, so what interest aside from curiosity was there for you? None, and it wasn’t time to be curious. You continued to walk.

Goldie’s eyes widened at this. She rushed forward to step in front of you and widen her arms.

“What in tarnation are doing?” she said, nodding her head at the ranch. “Are you not going to check?”

You walked around her. You spat onto the moon-bleached sand. “No, I know where I am going, no reason to detour.”

Goldie clutched her fives. Her voice hushed, as if she was talking to herself. “There might be someone there, someone who knows where Henry is.”

You rolled your eye, putting more stretch between you as she stood there, pacing left and right.

“I reckon it ain't likely, do you think your brother suddenly became famous? Why would every person we meet know him?”

“I said -might-!” Goldie scoffed. She scuffled the soil with her boot before cursing in a hushed tone and hurrying to join in with your pace.

“Then go. You’re annoying. Go and check if they know of your brother's whereabouts, but I couldn’t care less. I’m going my way.”

Goldie looked at you with a cold gaze, gasping short cut breaths from her canter. “It’ll be far too bothersome to track you down again, I realised.”

You looked the other way, focusing on the direction of the haunting fields Bill’s chalk pointed to a while back. You travelled a far way, and you hoped you didn’t meander too far from the straight line. The further you went, and the more time passed, the less your spiritual drunkenness numbed your soul. The impales left by the hundred pinpricks and your shattered shoulder began to gnaw anew, and even your throat started to dry out. You flung your glance to where the ranch was, but by now its cloudy ghost wood dwellings were out of your view. You could really use another drink …As you reminisced on the taste of bitter ale and the freshness of spring water, you made out a sound of ill-advised footsteps, neither yours nor Goldie’s.

From the thin sapphire mist, about a throw away, emerged a figure of a man with coarse and roughened hair with a scraggly and scruffy beard—his hair’s hue took after a sunflower, seed black at the tips and deep orange and honey-yellow. When you reached for your revolver, the man simply drifted forwards, not even sparing you a glance. On his back, there was an enormous ashen coffin which he was carrying by belts twisted together with ropes and chains. The man wore heavy drab clothes with a worn-brimmed hat and gloves. His face was covered by charcoal paint, concealing the see-through skin as well as the white skull; it made him look like he did not belong here. He withdrew from your attention but, when his back was turned to you, slowed his pace. Despite the coffin's noticeable bulk and weight he effortlessly but slowly turned around and approached you. However, he focused his attention on the little rodent instead.

Goldie narrowed her eyes, cleared her throat, and stiffened her chest under the pale blue gloss of his eyes—the only tipoff that he was a damned soul. She opened her mouth.

He unintentionally muted her with a loud thud by settling the closed coffin upright on the ground. He had a bandoleer belt with many bullets and three holsters holding a separate revolver each, you noticed. “You poor thing,” he said, reaching the coffin lid in which were at least a hundred silvery-lead nails, each glowing eerie white. He pulled out one of them with ease and kneeled towards the girl. “You are too young to be here, this place is neither for children nor gals.” He drawled his words. “What is your name?” The man offered her the nail.

Goldie briefly glanced at you, then narrowed her eyes and said, “Goldie. Name’s Goldie and surname’s Kirkland.”

“Marigold,” he said, kneeling before her as if you weren’t even there. “Where might your legs take ya from here?”

> Interrupt the man and ask that he notices you, and explains who he is.
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.
> Raise your revolver and threaten the man to step away. You would rather not have Goldie tell someone who looks this dangerous her mission, he might actually make it easier.
> [Write In]

>>5597134
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.

>>5597134
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.

>>5597134
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.

We haven't met anyone who didn't mean to use us or harm us yet, and I don't think that's gonna change.

>>5597134
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.
Info he tells her is info for us too.

>>5597414
Weird, since surely innocent people get shot, too! (Maybe it's only people who got shot and also perpetrated violence or other sins? Might mean that if Henry is really as innocent of serious wrongdoing as Goldie says, he ain't even here.)

>>5597134
> Keep silent and watch with cautious interest what the man says to Goldie.
Ignore the faggot. Hopefully he kidnaps the little shit.