A Fistfull of Justice. IC

[Reginox]

Michael Hunt coughed as the stagecoach passed him in the street, kicking up dust and sand into the air. The ride had been long, knowing that it was the last time he was to ride shotgun for his partner Lewis. It had been a nice run while it lasted, guarding Lewis' stagecoach. He had become proficient with the 10 gauge he now held in his hands, and had gained a lot of experience on the trail. Still, his wanderlust had caught up with him again, and he knew it was time for a change. He had let Lewis know this would be his last time on the stage, and now he was alone again. He had always heard that El Paso was big, but he had never expected it to be this big.

He walked down the street, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder by its' leather belt. He walked without really knowing where he was going, just a simple, wandering gait down the street. It was hot out today, so not many people were about in the streets. A few rough-looking locals here and there, but other than that, it seemed like a sleepy day in El Paso. If there was such a thing. He figured he should get a lay of the city to start with, in order to get his bearings and find out what work could be done. Suddenly, however, he caught a glimpse of a nice looking saloon down the street. It wasn't a house of questionable morality, or one of the stuffy halls the rich met in, just a nice place for a drink. He quickly made his way over to the side of the street and made for the swinging door. As he did so though, he saw a flier nailed to the wall by the door.

"Attention, citizens of the State of Texas." He read aloud. "Any man able and willing to bear arms against a terrible enemy of the people of Texas, is invited to join the gallant party of Marshal Wesley Yule. A great reward awaits any who decide to strike against the enemies of Texas. Visit the Sheriff's office for more information."

Apparently, there was some sort of posse forming at the Sheriff's office. Michael found it strange, though, that a flyer would be posted advertising a posse. Still, the idea excited him. He ran into the saloon and called to the bartender.

"Hey, where is the Sheriff's office?"

The man looked up at him, squinting his eyes to make Michael out against the glare of the sun behind him.

"All the way down the street until it turns left, its on the corner, you can't miss it." He replied.

"Thank you kindly!" Michael said, then made off down the road to the Sheriffs' office. He laughed as he caught sight of the squat building that served as both jail and office for the law of the city. He hadn't expected things to get so exciting so quickly.

__________________________________________________ _______________

U.S. Marshal Wesley Yule looked up from the map spread across the Sheriff's desk as the door was opened and a young man carrying a shotgun over his shoulder stepped into the room.

"Can I help you young man?" He asked.

"Yessir." Replied the man in the sheepskin vest. "I'm here about the flyer, for the posse."

"Ah, yes. Well..." He paused for a moment, then gestured towards a row of chairs arranged around the desk. "I am expecting a few more volunteers to arrive here around noon. If you want you can come back then, or you can wait here for them. If you stay, would you kindly put your scattergun and pistol belt back there?"

He pointed towards a row of shelves and pegs on the wall at the back of the room.

The man did so, placing his shotgun in one of the shelves and hanging his belt on a peg. He walked back and extended his hand to Yule, who took it.

"The name is Michael Hunt sir, nice to meet you." He said.

"Marshal Yule, likewise Mr. Hunt."

[Gunther]

A piece of parchment tacked to a pole in San Antonio, Texas read, "Attention, citizens of the State of Texas. Any man able and willing to bear arms against a terrible enemy of the people of Texas, is invited to join the gallant party of Marshal Wesley Yule. A great reward awaits any who decide to strike against the enemies of Texas. Visit the Sheriff's office for more information." Bill Carson read the document three times and allowed it to sink in. Since he had recently acquired his liberty from his former employer, Mr. Clarence Bodine, Bill believed El Paso was a place he needed to visit next.

The trip to El Paso took about two weeks, passing through Ft Stockton along the way. Bill Carson was covered in dust and dirt from riding for so long. He pulled the reins up on Angus, who came to a stop in front of the sheriff's office in El Paso, Texas. Bill swung his right leg over the saddle and stepped onto the ground. He looked up and down the street just to see what kind of activity was going on in the town.

Bill opened the door to the sheriff's office and immediately spotted two men inside. The first, seated at the sheriff's desk and the second, in a chair along a side wall. Bill tipped his hat to the young man seated along the wall. He noticed the U.S. Marshal's badge on the left side of the man's coat who was sitting at the desk. "You must be Marshall Yule," Bill Carson suggested upon entering the office.

The Marshall looked up and studied Bill Carson's appearance for a few seconds. The Marshall notice the scar along the left side of Billy Carson's face. He saw the butternut trousers and the black hat. "That's right," Marshall Yule responded looking up at Bill Carson with a reflective expression. "By the look of that hat and those trousers, I'd guess you are from Virginia."

Bill Carson's studied the Marshal's dark brown eyes. He could tell by the gray beard, graying temples, crow's feet and the man's serious expression that he was a veteran of the war. "That's right Marshall." Bill paused, then continued, "1st Virginia Cavalry in '61 and '62. In '63 I joined the 43rd battalion, Partisan Rangers."

"Mosby?"

"Yes suh."

"I was with the 1st US Cavalry at Cold Harbor."

"Is that so, Marshall? I was nowhere near Cold harbor in '64." Billy Carson was tiring of the conversation quickly and the thought, 'Damn Yankee' entered his head, "so can I join yer little huntin' party?"

"Sure thing, Johnny," the Marshall responded. "Have a seat over there with the other feller."

"Carson, Bill Carson," he spat out as he turned to join the man he would soon know as Michael Hunt.

"Huh?" The Marshal queried.

"My name, Marshal. It's William Carson. But most folks call me Bill or Billy." Bill took a seat and gave a weak grin towards Mr. Hunt.

[Sir Beowulf]

Lee Hartman looked up, bringing his hand up to his face to block the sun as he looked upon the town he had finally come to. He gently brushed some dust off of his suit, smiling to that he still had it over all these years. He had been travelling for several days, roaming from town to town until he found the flier, explaining about a hunt to the bandits that destroyed his ranch. Ignoring the looks that the various people gave him, due to his fancy Confederacy attire, Lee brought out the small flier he had in his coat pocket, reading the words one last time as he came across the Sheriff's Office, hopping off his old horse and tying it to one of the nearby poles. Lee wiped some of the sweat off his head, he was never a fan of the heat in the West, he preferred the South more.

Lee walked into the small office, stopping for a moment as he rested his hand on his saber, looking around the room, first he spotted the sheriff, sitting at his desk, all fancy and prim, he also saw the other two men, one around the age of thirty, the other around the age of twenty, wearing a sheepskin vest.

"Mornin'." Lee said as he removed his hand, wiping off a bit more dust off his coat, damn stuff got everywhere in the prairies. Lee walked up next to the older man of thirty, gently nodding to him as he looked down at the Sheriff, sitting at his desk. "Ah'm here for the flier." Lee said as he took it out of his coat pocket, gently unfolding it and placing it down on the desk. "Th' name's Lee Hartman, nice to meet ya'll."

((Nice, finally we get to start rpin', nice introduction, Regi. Can't wait till' the others get on and join up. Also, you're missing one of the lines splitting your text.))
__________________

[JudeMcMayhem]

His vision returned, he felt a daft presence of pain behind his forehead but when he tried to reach for it he found out he was restrained. A man, or boy rather, he seemed barely out of his diapers, held his arm and tugged him along. Then Jacob realized he wasn't walking, he was being dragged. When he tried his other arm he discovered another man, this one was a bit older, had some hair on his chest and bruises on his knuckles. This man, Jacob noticed, had a sheriff's deputy badge. When he looked up he saw the marshal's office and a vision out of a dream, a confederate officer, who stepped inside. They followed suit, it seemed the officer had barely stopped talking when the burly one of his captors almost knocked him over in an effort to get past him

Jameson, the short burly one, threw Jacob into the marshal's desk. More pain, huzzah.

Jameson: "G'day sir's and sir." The last directed at the marshal. "This 'ere fellar was causin' trouble in the saloon, won a few hands o' poker then attacked a fellow player because he was 'cheatin'. Too bad for 'im that player was me and deputies don't cheat."

Marshal Yule: "Alright, were you playing that devil's game again Jameson? I'll say that sport will be the death of all it's players one day. Were wearing your badge when or before mr. ..."

Jameson: "Venderbeels. Sir. He's a Dutch American."

Marshal Yule: "Alright, were you wearing your badge when Mr. Venderbeels attacked you?"

Jameson: "No sir."

Marshal Yule: "And were you cheating?"

Jameson: "No si..." The marshal gave Jameson a stern look. "Well only a little bit, 'Irish' was sitting in front of a mirror. It wasn't..."

Marshal Yule: "That will be enough, battery in a public entertainment building it is. Do you have anything to say for yourself Dutch?"

Jacob: "I dunno remember a thing..." Jacob cleared his mind for a second. "Mister marshal, I'm Jacob van der Biels, a bounty hunter. I've chased the Texas ghost ranger for two years now without success. Not too long ago his trail grew cold, indicating he had set up shop again somewhere... Eeeh, this was before these red faced bandidos started their raids. I suspect he's with them. Lock me up but let me go before you leave so I can join your posse. If that's not an option release me into your custody when you leave."

Marshal Yule sat back and heard the story, he was silent for a moment after Jake finished speaking.

Marshal Yule: "Alright, put Dutch behind bars."

The haze had fallen on Jacobs head again and he didn't even notice being dropped off into his new temporary home away from home. Or the scolding Jameson got afterwards regarding playing cards and cheating.

[xXPALADINXx]

Josh rode into El Paso from the north,though his eyes roamed the the dusty streets, taking in each person that he saw and determining in an instant whether they were friendly or a potential foe out of habit, his mind wandered back in time when he had first rode this part of west Texas and a pretty lil Senorita named Maria who had livid just the otherside of the border, they had made plans for a wedding but her brother, who was the local bandit leader wasint gonna have a gringo for a brother-in-law and he never saw Maria again.

His horse,as if reading his mind and knowing what he wanted trotted his way down the towns main road and came to a stop in front of the saloon, Josh, having felt the horse come to a stop, looked around then patted the horse on his broad neck with a smile, then stepped down off the saddle and led his horse over to the water trough, his eyes scanning up and down both sides of the street as the horse drank. He noticed a piece of paper nailed to the wall of the saloon next to the swinging doors as it fluttered in the west Texas breeze, he hitched the reins to the post and walked over and held the paper against the wall so he could read it,

Attention, citizens of the State of Texas.Any man able and willing to bear arms against a terrible enemy of the people of Texas, is invited to join the gallant party of Marshal Wesley Yule. A great reward awaits any who decide to strike against the enemies of Texas. Visit the Sheriff's office for more information.

A frown spread across his lips while he read, the last thing he and the Rangers needed right now was a bunch of locals playin vigalante and ending up gett'in them'selves killed, he was also alil surprised to see a Federal Marshal leading the party,but then again this was West Texas, any law,Federal or local was welcome and unfortunatly it was going to be nearly a week before a Ranger Battalion could be dispatched and arrive in El Paso, the best he could hope to do at the moment was tag along and do his best to keep'em all from get'in them'selves killed. He left his horse tied outside the Saloon and made his way down the wooden planked walkway, He nodded to the man he past and tipped his hat to the Ladies,but more often then not he rarely made eye contact with any of them, everyones eyes always automatically went to the silver star on his chest and he was done past them before his eyes ever met thiers.Josh stopped just outside the Sheriffs office door,rapped his knuckles on it three times then reached down, turned the knob and pushed the door open,he waited briefly as someone was being dragged off to the cells, then spotting the other two men in the office wearing badges he nodded his head and offered up a soft but deep drawled,

" Good afternoon, Am Ranger Daniels,heard y'all been havin abit a trouble of late".

[cunfuzzler]

Soka sat in the back of the saloon, very slightly bobbing her head to the tune played by the pianist in the corner. She downed a shot of tequila and began eavesdropping on the patron's conversations, it was mostly just local gossip. The local drama of Albuquerque were of no real concern to her. Eventually however the conversation of a couple of rather scruffy lookin men sitting at the bar caught her attention.

"You hear what happened in Texas? Whole town murdered by bandidos, I hear they're organizing a posse to go after em in EL Paso to go after em into Mexico."

"Suicide if you ask me, goin into Mexico after a group of bandidos, but hey, who am I to judge if folks want to get emselves killed on some suicide mission."

Wasn't something she would have normally done, but her usual routine of maiming men and robbing them blind had grown monotonous. At the very least it would be a nice change of pace. She smiled and downed a shot of tequila that had been at her table for quite awhile. It had grown warm, but then she wasn't getting shots of liquor for their taste anyways. After acquiring a significant buzz with no sign of a potential victim she made her way to the room above the saloon she had rented for the evening. Once inside she examined her gun, counting every bullet before moving on to her arrows, carefully scanning each one making sure they were ready.

The next morning she set out for El Paso, she arrived early on the fourth day after setting out. She saw the Sheriff's office though refrained from going in, instead riding around the town for a time, trying to think of a way to introduce herself so that they would take a 'Indian' woman wanting to join a posse hunting bandidos seriously. Eventually though she made her way back to the sheriff's office. She tied off her horse outside and turned her holster belt to more obviously show her gun before she opened the door. She saw a few scruffy looking white men when she entered, what you'd usually expect to see looking for a fight. She scanned around the room quickly trying to ignore the gallery of characters inside until she found the man sitting behind what she could only assume was the sheriff's desk.

She cleared her throat as deeply as possible and spoke to him "Hello, I'm Soka Alsoom, I hear you are forming a party to go across the border after some Mexican bandidos?"

[benjaminrk]

“He is forming...” Sounded a woman's voice behind Soka, “... a party to find and put to justice a gang of cold blooded killers”. Lorry stepped inside the sheriff’s office, past the Indian woman and removed a straw from her mouth. Looking on everybody she continued.
“A gang of masked Mexicans who has roamed freely for many weeks now. A gang that, last time I checked, was responsible for over 70 accounted deaths just beyond the southern pass. Where 2 of them were Marshals. That is what he is gathering a party to go across the boarder for”.
It wasn't like Lorry to interrupt people, nor correct them. But she had seen the damage and pain the gang could cause. So getting that one thing strait was more important to her than a good first impression.
As her eyes met Marshal Wesley, her stiff expression loosened up. “Lorelai MC'Adder. Deputy in Hammerdam”. She lifted her olive hat for a second, before removing her guns and taking a chair.

Most people had heard about the massacre that had hit Hammerdam, and just how hard that one town had been hit. So further introduction was rarely required.
To Lorry's great relief, the people around did not look like the green, greedy, impulsive adventurer she had feared. No fish strait out of the water.
A broad backed man with a full beard dominated the chair he sat on. On another chair a sturdy man with sandy brown hair and small eyes that had not doubt seen years of gunfights. The scar on his cheek was not to be missed either. A slightly older man in a respectful Civil War uniform also sat in the room, and there was absolutely no chance he hadn't dealt with a dogfight like this before. The Indian girl already seem to have the athletic build to at least survive in the wild and track down the gang, without loosing her breath. At last we had what appeared to be an experienced Texan ranger with a badge, and a blond guy with a stern look in his eyes.
Lorry on the other hand didn't exactly look like much. She was well away of that. Apart from the fact that: She did have dirt under her nails, the way she put her guns down suggested she did know how to handle them and she had been appointed by a once respected Sheriff. Apart from those things, one might not think she had what it took. Lorry knew though, and she hoped her angel face wouldn't cloud that.
So in the end the people assembled did appear to be a promising start at first glance, even if nothing had been said or done yet.

This was the first small hope Lorry had had in a while...

[Reginox]

Marshal Yule cleared his throat as the last two people to enter the room took seats around the Sheriff's desk. Both of them were women, a native squaw and young woman with a deputy badge pinned on her dust-stained white shirt. Yule had cocked an eyebrow as he heard her interrupt the young squaw; she was surprisingly well informed. He recognized her badge as one from the little town of Hammerdam, and grim understanding swept through his mind. He had heard that town had been hit hard, and that Sheriff Black had been killed in the attack. It was not surprising to see one of his deputies out for revenge. It was a shame, Hammerdam had been a nice place, he had ridden through it a few times and liked it a lot.

He sighed and rubbed his chin as the gathered gun-men and women looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at them and checked them off in his mind one more time.

An earnest looking stagecoach guard, named Michael Hunt. He didn't look like all that much, he wasn't mean looking and certainly wasn't a gunfighter. Still, there was something about him that made it impossible to be too critical about his apparent "greenness". Almost like someone who put on a "green" act; he had met a few of the type before, people who preferred to get out of situations without violence, but could kill you without a second thought if they had too.
A tough-as-nails looking Virginian, a veteran, named Bill Carson. He was obviously a gun-fighter, and would certainly come in handy.
A polite, but stern looking Southern gentleman, also a veteran, Lee Hartman. Though he looked almost comical in his uniform, gripping his saber hilt, Yule knew Mr. Hartman's experience would be vital.
He also reminded himself of the Dutch bounty-hunter still in his cell. Venderbals? No... Vainderbels? Not that either... Whatever his name was, Yule decided to let him sweat it out in his cell for a while. Though he would most likely end up coming with them in the end, he looked like he knew what he was doing.
Joshua Daniels, a Ranger, who might have ideas of taking the reins of this venture. He might have to keep an eye on him, he had known too many hot-headed Rangers that had gotten Comanche arrows in their throats. Still, having a Ranger was always better than not having one.
Then there was the squaw, Soka Alsoom. She looked like any other squaw to Yule, but there was still something about her. Something about her eyes and manner that belied a viciousness that made his spine shiver.
And last of all, there was the deputy girl, Lorry Mc'Adder. If two people could possibly be complete opposites of each other, it would be her and the squaw Soka. She had an openness to her that was refreshing. She had the manner of someone with nothing else to lose, and a single purpose.

He remembered their faces, and would check through the criminal records of El Paso later, just in case.

"Alright folks, I won't stand on ceremony for you. First off, I am not the Sheriff. Sheriff Wembly is currently ill with fever, and since I am the Federal Marshal of this stretch of border, it is my job to deal with bandits outside the limits of El Paso anyway. So, now that is out of the way, down to business. Everyone who has spent more than a few days this side of Texas knows of the recent trouble we've had along the border with a group of marauders known as the "Redface's. Just in case, however, is there anyone here who has not heard of these bandidos?"

The man who had come in first, Michael Hunt, raised his hand.

"I heard rumors and stories on the trail, but no facts Marshal, sir. I just come in from up North on the stage." He stated in a leisurely manner.

"Well here are your facts Mr. Hunt." Yule replied. "The facts are, these bastards have killed seventy people within the boundaries of the state of Texas. Two of whom were Federal Marshals that I knew personally. There have probably been more murders than that, but the seventy is all we can pin firmly on them."

__________________________________________________ _____________

Michael grunted and bit his bottom lip, an expression that caused his beard to bristle on his chin.

"Squirrel-headed bastards..." He said softly. "Why haven't the Rangers gone after them?"

"They have, a whole band of Rangers have been tracking them for weeks. They weren't that hard to track really, all they had to do was follow the fire and bodies." Marshal Yule said. The Marshal walked around from the behind the desk and crossed his arms, looking over the rag-tag bunch. "Unfortunately, their path of destruction ends right at the Rio Grande. After some more scouting by a particularly skilled scout, it was determined that they had crossed the river into Mexico three days prior. This news came to me two days ago."

"So what you're saying..." Michael replied. "Is that we are going after a band of Mexican bandits, into Mexico, and they have a five day head start on us?"

"Exactly, Mr. Hunt." Yule eyed the group, and gestured to the door. "If you don't want to come, you don't have to. Just know that there is a substantial reward for their capture or more... immediate punishment."

Michael whistled softly, this was the real deal. He leaned back in his chair and waited to see what the others' reactions would be.

[Sir Beowulf]

Lee Hartman frowned lightly at the two women walking in to join them. From his seat he waited patiently, ignoring the odd looks at him due to his outfit. He calmly listened to the Marshal's speech. Lee looked over to the two ladies, one an Indian, even worse. Lee thought they didn't need two young'un women messing everything up for them, they didn't belong on a hunt, and the other, the one with the badge, bah, she probably seduced the Sheriff of the town she belonged to. Lee looked over to the others in their party, most of them looked useful. Lee cleared his throat before he spoke out.

"Excuse me, Marshal, but, are yuh thinkin' of bringin' these.. ladies along for the ride? They'll only jus' get in th' way. Ah don't think they should come 'long."

Lee hoped that the Marshal wouldn't allow them comin' along, seeing as they were women, but although.. if he was one of those people who thought women we equal, they would have a problem. Lee brushed another bit of dust off his coat as he looked around, hoping that the others agreed with 'im, too. Lee was about to say more, but then he suddenly froze in place, it was happenin', again. Lee was having one of his seizures, Lee let out a grunt as he grabbed hold of his chair, startin' to shake. Soon, he let out a loud cry as he fell from his chair, onto the ground, pain enveloping him as he rode through his seizure, wishing these damned things would go away, he was tired of dealing with them.

((Ohohoh. Wonder what ya'll will think of this. o3o))

[xXPALADINXx]

Josh looked around at the bunch gathered around the Sheriffs desk as Marshal Yule spoke, and had serious doubts about this little venture,upon hearing of Federal Marshals being killed and that Marshal Yule had known them personally, he eyed Marshal Yule with concern,was he acting under the authority of the local Federal Judge, or was this really about personal revenge. When Marshal Yule annouced that they would be crossing into old Mexico, Josh began thinking maybe the Marshal been out in the West Texas sun too long, Now that Texas had been readmitted into the Union and,Yule,being a sworn officer of the court, he surely had to know the repercussions of leading armed American Citizens into another country, like Mexico, with the intent to kill Mexican Citizens, and the political uproar it would create.


Josh turned and looked out the dust layered window of the office lost in thought as the others asked questions,He'd known afew of those seventy that had been ruthlessly murdered,they had been good hard working,honest,God fearing people who would of gone out of thier way to keep from harming another person and thier deaths made no sense whatso ever other then the fact they had merely been gunned down out of pure meaness and sport by the bandidios.


Josh looked around the office again and realized it wouldnt do any good to try and talk'em into not going,even if the Ranger Company were to get here in time,they wouldnt cross the border and cause an international incident, but Josh couldnt just let this posse go off on thier own and get killed, and deep down he wanted justice done as well, for the memories of the seventy murdered. Even though he knew it would end his career as a Ranger, Josh reached up and unpinned the Ranger badge from his vest and slipped it into a vestpocket then tuned and looked at the Marshal, "Am in, let me know when your ready to ride out ".then he stepped out of the office, took out his tobacco pouch and rolled a smoke and lit it,after two or three puffs he headed back to the saloon to toast his career good-bye.

About halfway down he boardwalk, Josh heard the door of the Sheriffs office being yanked open and turned to see what was going on,his hand going instictivly to the handle of the colt on his hip, he watched Marshal Yule run out into the middle of the dirt street and holler in the direction of the Doc's office that sat acroos the street. Within a few seconds a grey haired old man came running out, struggleing to put a coat on while holding his little black bag and stopped in front of the Marshal who explained what was going on to the Doc then both ran into the Sheriffs office. Since there was nothing Josh could do, he turned back and continued on to the Saloon.