Name: Lauren Compagnon Cartier

Nicknames/alias: "Matey", Al Revoir, Iiniwa

Age: 34

Place of birth & ethnicity: Red River Colony, Rupert's Land, Canada. Métis.

Gender: Male

Occupation: Bounty hunter, Soldier (Formerly), Huntsman (Formerly).



Apperance: Lauren is lanky and tall, he has an average build. He is long-haired and has short facial hair. He has light skin and almond eyes, his hair is a dark black. Lauren has a large scar on his lower back, and has a rife bullet located somewhere in his lower abdomen. He has long hair, reaching his shoulders. He has a round face and high cheekbones.

Clothing: Lauren often wears a small black jacket with cuffed sleeves over a similarly black waistcoat, a gold pocket watch chain hung over it. He has a brown gun-belt on his waist for his revolver. He wears black trousers and brown boots. He also wears a large black brimmed hat. When in Indian territories, he wears an outfit once worn by his grandfather, a Blackfoot elder. When in this outfit, the only thing that prevents him from appearing fully native is his white skin. It is comprised of a loose-fitting shirt, chaps, and moccasins.

Personal style: Lauren is often sharply dressed, wearing suits and jackets that are in fashion in Europe. When riding or performing a bounty, he trades his fashionable attire for dark brown ponchos with beige trim, or worn dusters, already stained with a plethora of substances.

Personality: Lauren is taciturn and never talks about his past, he dislikes racism towards Indians due to his descent and especially dislikes bandits. Lauren is spiritual and often quick to bond with members of the Indian community. Lauren speaks the language of his people and French, and has little ability with English. He speaks English with a heavy accent and many pauses due to his unfamiliarity with the language's many confusing rules and clauses, as such, he prefers to stay quiet, when he does speak, it is often in monosyllabic words. Lauren is exceptional at hold-em, and is often found at a saloon table when not on a bounty. Lauren has little empathy, caring only on what he is about to do next, and not caring about anyone else his actions might affect.

Habits: When angry, Lauren's already heavy Quebecois accent becomes even heavier, and he rants in both his native tongues so fast not even native speakers understand him. He also has a habit of pushing against his lower back when distressed due to his scar.



Regular life skills: Lauren is a good tracker, and exceptional at riding, able to guide his horse with just his knees when aiming his rifle. He can barter well when he is pushed, and he is quite charismatic, owing to his handsome face and smooth French accent.

Combat skills: Lauren is an incredible marksman, especially when armed with a repeater or other rifle. He has a good quick-draw and is alright in a brawl.

Items on your person: Lauren carries a Cookson repeater and a Colt SAA, he also carries a beaver-fur hat, a gift from his father which he does not wear for risk of damaging it. He often has enough money on his person to afford a good horse. He also carries a hatchet and a hunting knife.

Additional stuff: Lauren has four sets of European style clothing, his bounty hunting duster and poncho, and his grandfather's outfit for visits to native territories.


What brings you to Haylliesburg: Lauren arrived at Haylliesburg a few months ago, stopping on his way to a bounty for a meal. Remembering the location, he returned recently to have some downtime before heading back out after bounties.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Lauren Cartier was born in the Red River Indian territory to a native woman and a Voyageur by the name of Laurent. Lauren was raised mostly by his mother as a child, spending his time amongst the other Métis children and sometimes joining with the other Indians when they had ceremonies. Lauren especially idolized his grandfather, an elder among the Blackfoot who still made time to go out buffalo hunting with the young men. During his childhood, his father would periodically come around to check on him and teach him of the European culture, much to his mother's chagrin. At the age of four, his grandfather was shot by a bandit, his body dragged around by his horse so much it was barely recognizable. Soon after, his village was raided and his mother was killed, along with four in five of the village's inhabitants. Lauren was raised for four months by one of the now-homeless young hunters, Tired Condor, until his father, shocked and crying, came upon the two, shooting Condor dead due to a miscommunication. Lauren had already been through so much, and his father wasn't surprised to see the youth become walled-off and hard to talk to. Lauren's father, still a young man, retired to Quebec in order to raise the child. As a young man, Lauren returned to his home in the west, gathering the remaining members of his village together and holding a solemn vigil for the passed. A few years later, the Red River Rebellion broke out. Lauren enlisted into Louis Riel's army, serving on the firing squad of Thomas Scott, though he did not fire a single shot, instead fleeing south on horseback with all his possessions and reinventing himself as "Matey", a corruption of "Métis", for his ethnicity. He began serving as a bounty hunter and patron of the many Indian villages still thriving in the west.


Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn’t fit anywhere else.

• Lauren has also been known as Matey Scott and Al Revoir, when in Indian territories, he goes by his native name Iiniwa.
• Lauren prefers to not introduce himself by name, instead going as Matey most of the time.
• Lauren is a father, though he doesn't care for his children, and with many, isn't even aware they exist.

Name: Josiah Solomon Murphy
Nicknames/alias: "Sarge" for those aware of his military history, "Mick" generally for when people learn of his Irish heritage.
Age: 38
Place of birth & ethnicity: Dublin, Ireland, Irish
Gender: Male
Occupation: Bounty Hunter, occasional deputy.



Appearance: Josiah is an average-sized man, not much taller than most, and a relatively normal build. His brown hair is beginning to grey with age, and his face is wrinkling with the same. His green eyes are losing their youthful shine, dulling to a more mottled color. His muscular, but aged body bares several scars from knives and gunshot wounds, and he walks with a slight limp in his left leg.

Clothing: He wears a brown leather duster in most occasions, with a dirty bandana around his neck, an old US Army uniform shirt underneath. He wears long khaki pants tucked into black riding boots. He has a pistol holster at his belt, and a rifle sheath slung over his back.

Personal style: He generally sticks to long shirts and pants, with his usual riding boots and leather duster. In winter and cold weather he swaps the duster for a thick US Army double-breasted cavalry overcoat from the days of the Civil War.

Personality: A gruff, stern man, he hates lawbreakers and other criminals, often wanting them dead as soon as he hears of them. He's a notorious drinker, and a damn-good cards player.

Habits: When he's nervous or cautious, he'll often light up a cigar to calm his nerves. He makes a sure note to get at least one drink from the bar in every town he visits, as an odd sign of respect.



Regular life skills: He's strong, a good rider, great at giving orders and directing others, a good tracker, a fine cook, and a decent marksman
Combat skills: He's trained in use of cavlary sabers, revolver pistols, and repeater rifles.
Items on your person: His normal outfit, up to $10, a few cigars, a hip flask for alcohol, his Colt Dragoon revolver, and often a repeater rifle in his back sheath.
Additional stuff: A week's worth of spare clothing, his winter coat, spare ammunition for his rifle and pistol, his cavalry saber, a small framed photo of himself when he made Sergeant in the army, his horse, and a Catholic Bible.


What brings you to Haylliesburg: He's mainly looking for solid work as a deputy or other lawman, maybe a place to settle down. He's grown a bit tired of hopping from town to town looking for bounties, and would like a full-time job somewhere.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Josiah was born in Dublin, Ireland, and lived there until he was about 4 years old. His parents had heard about the wonders of the United States, and decided to migrate there. With him, his parents, and his older brother, they lived in a small, dilapidated apartment in New York, with his father as a dockworker, and his mother schooling him and his brother to the best of her ability. When his brother grew old enough, he left their home and looked for work out west, occasionally sending back letters to tell the family how he was doing. This inspired young Josiah to want to make a life for himself out west as well, where the biggest opportunities presented themselves. However, when Josiah came of age, the American civil war had begun, and he was one of those chosen to serve. Having been one of the few inducted to serve in the US Cavalry, he took to it well for someone raised in the city. He would go on to reach the rank of Sergeant by the end of the war, and would leave the Army once the war had ended. With only his government stipend and the skills of a fighter, Josiah decided to set out west, taking up work as a roaming bounty hunter and lawman, helping towns fend off bandits, but never staying in one place for too long.


Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn’t fit anywhere else.

• http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3918948
• Do the Red Dead games count...? I kid. I really enjoy most of Clint Eastwood's movies.

Name: Chris Buckwood
Nicknames/alias: Buck
Age:39
Place of birth & ethnicity: Watkinsville, Georgia. White.
Gender: M
Occupation: Gambler, "merchant", conman.


Appearance: Buck sticks out in a crowd, thats for sure. His skin has somehow stayed relatively pale. His build is tall, thin, and gangly. His arms and legs are long and he walks as if he is always about to topple over, even if he is quite coordinated.

His head is shaved bald, and his light blonde hair makes his eyebrows hard to see. He had a beard that starts at the top of his ears and covers his jaw and chin, sticking off and outwards, looking like the bottom of a broom. Is's light color makes it hard to see under certain lighting conditions. His face is his most prominent feature, with deep set, dark green eyes that are almost always overshadowed. His skin is pulled tight over his face, as if there wasn't enough to go around and he had to make do. His cheek bones and jaw are highly pronounced, making it almost cringe-worthy when he swivels and adjusts his jaw. It's almost skull-like, all of this results in a tight-lipped, hungry looking smile.

Clothing: A dark red suit made of cloth with white undershirt, as well as dark red pants and leather boots. Atop his shiny bald dome is a black bowler hat.

Personal style: Anything that looks classy.
Personality: Despite his ghastly appearance, Chris managed to make it work in his favor, his ugliness somehow making him appear more genuine. After all, with a face like that, what could he have to hide? Lots, actually. Buck has a passion for "earning" money. Easy marks, manipulation, and the rare fair deal are what composes his income. He's friendly enough, but it's almost always a front. He's arrogant and clever, with a dark, sometimes mocking, sense of humor.

Habits: There's a silver coin that he deftly flips through his fingers.



Regular life skills: Buck is a conman, through and through. He gets people to trust him just enough to take their money, then he's gone the next morning. His silver tongue is a big part of how he's managed to do what he does for so long. He's also somewhat of a botanist, just as a little hobby.
Combat skills: He's unusually flexible and speedy. Other than that, he's a cruddy shot, but he's good with a kinfe.
Items on your person: Fifty dollars, scattered about his person. He also has a gold-plated pocket watch, a deck of expensive looking playing cards and a boring looking Cattleman revolver. He also has several daggers hidden throughout his apparel, ready to pull out and stab anyone who gets grabby.
Additional stuff: A surprisingly well crafted fold-out cards table, some changes of clothing, extra cards, snake-oil products, and some extra small knives.


What brings you to Haylliesburg: These small town shmucks should be some easy marks. He's just passing through, looking to make some extra cash before moving onto a bigger city.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: He's lived the life of a nomad, hopping from settlement to settlement scamming hard-working folk of their money along the way with rigged gambling games and snake-oil products. It's not like he doesn't enjoy playing a fair and square poker game, it's just that he likes money more. This all started when he was younger, when his honest merchant father and mother got conned out of a living. After his parent's General Store closed, his father went into the mines and came back physically disabled, and his mother couldn't exactly find work, so it was up to Chris to try and make the family's money as a rare single child.

He was no good at hard labor, and he never had high education, so it seemed like he couldn't find a way of making money. That was until he realized he had a silver tongue and a sleight of hand. At first, he went into the saloons and attempted to get really good at games like Texas Hold 'Em Poker, Blackjack, and Liar's Dice. He got so good he could read people like a book, and while most players attempt to hide all emotions when they play poker, Chris spouts bullshit the whole game. After a few hands he could read his opponents like a book.

Even still, he wasn't making enough cash, so he decided to rig the odds in his favor. Slipping weighted die into cups, needed cards into hands, and sometimes even more creative ways of cheating (or positive outcome security, as Buck sometimes calls it) had him begin raking in the cash.

Soon, it was no longer just about taking care of his aging parents, but about the sport of it all. He loved it. Then he thought he should throw in just a little more variety into his income, and began selling "snake-oil" products. Miracle substances and cures that can apparently solve all of live's problems in a single use. It was tough work at first, but he got the hang of it and began peddling useless goods to common folk who didn't know any better.

First, it was things like "Buckwood's Miracle Cure; Polio be-gone!" but that didn't work because they would go and try it out on a sick individual and find out his fraud right away. Then, it was things like Miracle Bait or Insta-Grow, things that hunters and farmers would have to go out into the fields and try out before they discovered they'd been had, and by then Buckwood would be out of town.

His parents eventually passed away, but Buckwood had found his calling.
Eventually, he ran into some people who were more perceptive than the others, and even worse, people who were perceptive AND angry. That's why he carries around several hidden knives in various useful places on his person. His sleight of hand can have it so a person can be on the floor with a knife in their leg before they even realize Buckwood's got out of his chair.

And so, for the last decade, he's been wandering the developing west, pulling scams and cheating people out of their hard-earned money. Even if he get's shot, he'll die doing what he loves.

• roleplayerguild.com/topics/87122-stekk..

Name: Albert Baldwin White

Nicknames/alias: Called Cato among the crewmen he served with –- not because he possessed any special philosophical wisdom, but ironically, for managing to stab himself (although accidentally) with his own knife while eating on his first day on board when he was 18. No nicknames otherwise.

Age: 30 years old.

Place of birth & ethnicity: Somewhere in Massachusetts country. His mother was traveling when her water broke so she gave birth in an improvised camp; he is an Anglo, worked in Nantucket and across New England mostly, and some menial jobs in various ports in Africa and Asia.

Gender: Male.

Occupation: Ex-crewman on a whaler who rose to a harpooner position after some years; now looking for a job on land.



Appearance: 6'0'' tall, dark green eyes, darker brown hair and facial hair like on the picture provided. He’s averagely built on first sight, but his hands, arms, legs, and torso have the hidden, unseen harpooner's strength resulting from climbing ropes, fixing ships, handling wood, rowing and thrusting the spear at whales and hacking them with knives, and that might go unnoticed until a fight breaks out. He has a stab wound on his abdomen, a small scar on his left eyebrow, and some minor cuts and burns on his shoulders and arms collected here and there as most men do, from reckless childhood play and tools and the like.

Clothing: Black boots, black pants tucked in them, a belt, a dark brown shirt under a dark brown vest, and a black town coat. He has a hat on sometimes, though prefers not to. His clothing is dirtied and battered since he’s been traveling all the way from the northeast.

Personal style: He’s most comfortable in his sailing uniform when at sea, but on land he likes to keep it simple and avoid anything fancy.

Personality: Thanks to his experience on the ship, he’s encountered many different peoples and faiths, from Japanese to Norwegian to Icelandic to African, and has learned to treat people according to their character, not ethnicity or faith, albeit after getting to know them. Life on ship does make man bond with unexpected company, but it also hardens the man, and makes him somewhat alien to those on shore as they often do not understand the actions of those who prefer the endless blue, just how they do not understand the land dwellers. He is ready to work and do most things, nevertheless, if the pay is good. He is cooperative and even more so when the ante is up or when the well being of the community is at stake. In such cases he will not back away from a fight. Although it may seem strange for a poor seaman and a slayer of the mighty whales, Albert is a man interested in the power of the word and more often than not spends his free time entertaining himself with a grammar book of some foreign language, a story, a poem, or phrases he picked up from strangers from far away places. He does keep this interest mostly private and would never sacrifice his work or chores in its favor, although he is always up for a discussion concerning all that when there is time. However, when on duty, the strict work ethic takes over and chases any sensibility aside.

Habits: When nervous he runs his fingers through his hair, that being the thing people usually notice first. He has a strong habit of cracking his knuckles, too, probably a result of witnessing and participating in countless bar and harbour fights that he can’t seem to avoid wherever he goes.



Regular life skills: Albert is a masterful shot with the spear, as his hard earned whalebone pin proves. He can do any physical work on ship, repair minor damages on them, he can fish, and he can go hunting on land as well as he does not fear facing beasts. Anything else he’d be willing to learn or get better at.

Combat skills: Harpoon and cutting knives are his tools of choice, besides fists, and he has a very basic knowledge of how to use firearms; in other words: he can point and shoot.

Items on your person: He bought a used pistol on his way to Arizona and he keeps it on his belt, just in case. He’s got a knife, a gift from a sailor from Liberia. He also has a pocket watch inherited from his father, sometimes a hat, and of course some money in the wallet, and a photograph of his wife, Livia, and their little daughter, Anna.

Additional stuff: As he is on the road west, alone, he carries a satchel and a bag of clothes, with some ale and food to chew on in-between towns. Oh, and he brought his harpoon to use as a decoration.



What brings you to Haylliesburg: Work and promised opportunity for anyone who is willing to work. He is looking for work in the west, hoping to find a place to settle down and earn enough money to bring his family to live with him as soon as possible.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Albert was born in the countryside of Massachusetts in an improvised camp to Elizabeth and Walter White, both of English origin although with some German thrown in there. His father was a trader and his mother taught school children. He lived with them and was home schooled by his mother until his later teens when he moved to his uncle Thomas, his mother's brother, to work with him at the shipyard. Eventually, looking to earn a bit more than the scrapes he got at the yard, he signed up as the lowest of the low deck cleaner on a whaler called Emily and eventually, through years of hard work and obedience, rose up slowly and earned the place in the boat, wielding a harpoon next to the more experienced mates. The sea got into his blood and he found himself growing sad and sickly when on land for too long, and one voyage leading to another, he eventually started spending more time on the ship than at home. At the age of 27 he married the daughter of his uncle's neighbor, and soon they had a daughter, although he barely saw either of them since he left for Singapore weeks after the wedding. Strange things happened in a short span of time: he became suddenly ill, the disease not being one of the known sorts; he saw a crew member hang himself from the mast; and he barely survived a pirate attack thank to sheer luck, as they stopped shortly after the first guns were fired and disappeared. He took it all as a bad omen, even though he is not a superstitious man, and had to return home quickly. After his homecoming he decided he would turn to some other type of work, to make sure he stays alive and able to provide for his family. The talk of the west had been going on in the town, and he naturally picked it up and became interested, in the job possibility more so than the gold talk. After some preparation he left, hoping to settle down or at least find some stability in terms of work and housing before inviting his family to join him.

• And where do you think you're going...?
• The Last Pale Light in the West
• And some metal
• San Francisco C*CKSUCKA!
• This is the post I made before making this post, which I am posting to show you that I have read the rules!
• Favourite western? See the first thing on this list! It's from Shane (1953). I also suggest No Country for Old Men, both the book and the movie, although it is a neo-western or an anti-western, however you wish. Butcher's Crossing is another good novel. And the best for last, check out Blood Meridian for the most epic, violent western story!

Name: Erik Torvald Viken
Nicknames/alias: Tuna, Babyface, Norway, Swede (which he severly dislikes)
Age: 38
Place of birth & ethnicity: Norway, a town called «Bergheim» now deserted. Norwegian, Caucasian.
Gender: Male
Occupation: Cattle herder and the occasional gun-for-hire.



Apperance: Even for his age, one might take Erik for a much younger man; his round cheeks, hairless face and innocent-looking green eyes fools them who do not get to know him. His hair short and blonde, combed back in a make-shift fashion; it's practical he says. His height serves him well enough at an average 5'7", his build the same of an average type. But looks are decieving, aren't they?

Clothing: A long brown jacket worn over a white shirt sports Erik, a pair of dirty jeans, held up by suspenders. He wears a pair of military boots, well worn, and a well-used slouch-hat finds itself planted onto his head.
Personal style: Being used to driving herds of cattle over long distances, Erik prefers the style he already wears. It's practical, and cheap enough to fix or replace pieces of clothing when needed.

Personality: How does one describe Erik? Well you could begin with the fact that he is quite friendly, even to strangers. He was once a stranger to America himself, and knows how it is to be looked upon badly. He gives a friendly smile and a helping hand when needed, unless you point out his foreigness to him; the worst thing you can call him is "A Swede", for which you might find him pushing you out of his way. If you've treated him worse after him trying to be friendly, he's not afraid of giving you a well-deserved punch. Not killing you though, he only kills people who try to kill him.

Habits: If near it, Erik will pull out a piece of straw and chew on it whenever possible. You might also find him pulling his suspenders and pants up, as if them being too big for him, including him swearing in Norwegian whenever the need arises.



Regular life skills: Half a lifetime has taught Erik how to ride a horse and herd cattle, without falling off said horse in the process. One might even say that he’s learned how to “talk” with the creatures, though that is of course an overstatement; he simply knows how to read them and what do to in certain situations.

Combat skills: He was in the army for a few years; in fact served through the whole Civil War and lived, giving him enough experience with a rifle and the occational carnage that his officer would call "Charging the enemy". In later years, he's gotten decent enough with a cattle revolver, though his ace is with his rifle.

Items on your person: 1873 Colt Single Action Army Revolver and varying amounts of ammunition for said weapon; his clothes and 48$.

Additional stuff: Winchester modell 1873 and ammunition for said weapon; his army uniform and spare clothes (one pair); Protestant Bible in Danish; satchel; blanket; cutlery and comb.



What brings you to Haylliesburg: In a country growing more suspecious of foreigners - even if they are legally American citizens -, Erik found himself moving to the frontier in search of work. He ended up in Haylliesburg by chance, leaving the group of travellers he had accompanied upon hearing if the possibility of protecting cattle from bandits.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Erik doesn't come from America, not ever from the rugged lands of Minnesota or North Dakota; born and raised in the 'Old Country' of Norway, in a little town located just beneath a mountain, the last thought during his childhood was for him to become what he became. So nothing special can be said about his childhood, until the mountain came crashing down on the town.

His mother was one of the missing people after the avelanche, alongside most of the townsfolk. His father and him had little left, and with no support from neither locals or governmental departments, Erik's father felt that their best course of action was to leave for America. With what little money they had left, they bought the cheapest tickets possible and boarded an 'America-liner' to take them to the New World.

A very small piece of land, way north in Minnesota was all they could afford. Erik had to spend much of his time at a ranch, working to earn enough for the two of them to get by. He did learn a whole lot about riding and herding cattle from it, though that was as much as he got from it. And then the war came.

Eager to serve a greater purpose than just herding cattle, Erik volunteered for the 15h Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry and served under Colonel Heg through the war. Nothing extraordinary occured to him, except being wounded and treated (without amputation, surprisingly) before being sent back to the war. He was decent enough with a rifle, though by no means getting close to being rewarded the Medal of Honor. Some claim it was because of him not really being an American citizen by birth, but he simply brushes it off as him doing his duty for his new homeland, not asking for much more.

With the war over, Erik set his sight back home again and took charge of the farm his father initially set up. If he learned quickly how to aim and shoot during the war, it was his time managing the farm that he learned how to kill without remorse; bandits and other kinds of renegades found their isolated farmstead a fine picking, and time and time again Erik found himself firing warning shots to scare them away. The warning shots turned eventually to aiming for their legs, which in turn ended up with him simply aiming for the chest, which worked out in the end. Well, at least until his father died in said raid, and Erik decided it was better to leave than to stay and face the same fate. Besides, he was no longer welcomed in the town, having gone beyond the law to revenge his father's death. Strange how the killer of your father's killers was still looked upon as a killer?

Working his way southwards, serving as a cattle-herder whenever needed and the occational gun-for-fire (which he slowly came to enjoy, perhaps because he knew he was starting to get good at it). The further he travelled south, the more he worked with his guns and less with his lazoo. And now he stands at the edge of Halliesburg, looking to see if Erik the Herder is needed, or Erik Babyface is needed for some shooting.


Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn’t fit anywhere else.

• Click me, if you dare?
• Though I think the two other movies in the "trilogy" are fantastic, this one really stuck with me. It might have been the last part, the tension hanging in the air and great acting.

Name:Lily Bell

Nicknames/alias:None

Age:44

Place of birth & ethnicity:Mobile, Alabama Caucasian

Gender:Female

Occupation:Gunslinger/Solider



She ain't no woman to be trifled with.

Appearance: Lily is a average sized woman standing at five feet and ten inches, weighing a hundred and forty five pounds total. Her hair is shoulder length and dark brown with visible waves in it, matching her dark brown eyes and well tanned skin from being outdoors. She has three blue stripes tattooed onto her left cheek, put on her by the Apache indians when she was captured the stripes showing she was traded for two blankets and a horse; a permanent reminder of her capture.

Clothing: Lily typically wears normal long riding pants made of rough cotton, along with a white button up and a leather black sleeveless vest. With a rough trench coat completing the ensemble and of course a black wide brimmed circular hat.

Personal style: See above

Personality: Lily is a quiet and withdrawn person, not sharing personal details about herself very freely. Her tolerance for Yankee soldiers is quite low and she is quick to jump into a gun fight, though her time in the Confederate Army made her far wiser and more skilled of the gun than the average person. That being said when not being judged or tested Lily is a happy person, content to drink and gamble like anyone else; not afraid of base labor or getting bloody. She is quite fond of children.

Habits: Drinker, smoker

Regular life skills: Coach driver, Observation mapper, hunter, explorer

Combat skills
Sharpshooter - From six shooters to long rifles Lily is a proficient combatant

Close combat - Given a sword or knife Lily is fairly skilled in defeating opponents in close combat

Leader - Having seen war first hand makes Lily hardened to combat enabling her to lead in the heat of battle

Items on your person:
Griswold revolver (x2) - Lily wears a Griswold revolver on each hip, the pistols common amongst Southerners

Hunting knife - A foot and a half single edged steel knife sheathed in the boot

Flask - Not for water

Canteen - For water

Additional stuff:

-Brown pants (x2)

-White button ups (x3)

-Extra socks (x4 pairs)

-Winchester 84 lever action rifle

-Union officer's sword

What brings you to Haylliesburg: Seeking a new life, escaping Union controlled reconstruction in the south

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Lily was actually a wife and mother before the Civil War, although her career was the same as ever a tracker and hunter mostly at the time; her husband was an accountant and usually cared for their son at home. However a year before the start of the Civil War Lily's son Abel was taken by the flu, so when the conflict erupted husband and wife both set out to join the fray; leading to Lily cutting most of her hair off and disguising herself as a young teen boy. Not that many men cared who fought beside them as long as they were reliable when the heat was on, so naturally she formed a strong bond with those whom she fought with in the Forth Confederate Infantry. Lily lost her husband in a battle in Virginia over a bridge, the outnumbered southerners holding the structure until it could be destroyed, however Lily's husband had volunteered to set the charges and sacrificed himself after being shot to detonate the black powder being used to destroy the wooden structure. So when the war was said and done Lily had no one left, and she ventured to the west; running protection for wagon trains be they merchant or families striking across the vast nation. It was on one of these escorts that the Apache attacked the train overwhelming the defenders and seizing Lily as a prize, she spent only seven months amongst the Apache escaping one night by killing the sentinel left to guard her and the other captives.

Sample:

Lily sat high upon the back of her spotted heavy stallion, the sun's rays plummeting down onto the woman and her charges. A line of four wagons two with supplies and two with families rolling across the open grassy plains; several other guards rode beside the wagons as well each man carrying a firearm if not several along with those riding shotgun on the wagons they numbered twelve fighters. Suddenly an arrow came whirling across the open air, fired from an especially thick batch of grass; followed by loud yelping and screeching sounds Apache bursting from all around the train. Men fell quickly but began to return fire. Lily whipped her horse around and charged down the line, firing her revolver as she passed the warriors wounding some but missing those out of range. Her horse took an arrow to the neck leading Lily to fight on foot, rushing back to the wagons for some form of cover, the remaining survivors numbering only 6. The Apache quickly overtook the travelers, Lily striking down two more with the long officers blade she carried on her left hip; though she found herself knocked unconscious by a blow from behind. All and all killing over twenty four Apache warriors with only twelve fighters, Lily was stripped of her weapons and tattooed to mark her value in the tribe sold from her original captor to the next rather quickly. Lily spent the next seven months as a slave for the tribe, from menial labors to the heat of the Apache warriors before a battle or hunt, planning her escape the entire time; seeing her chance when the majority of the skilled warriors left the tribe. Headed to attempt an attack on the railroad, this left only a young boy guarding the captives teepee; Lily found a long strip of frayed rope upon the floor and crept behind the teen. Strangling him quickly and quietly before escaping, reclaiming her old weapons on the way out in a risky stealth mission into the chieftains tent which left two of his wives dead by the end.

Sample from previous rp
roleplayerguild.com/posts/3906489/raw

Favorite Western
youtube.com/watch?v=WGBw3zwzqwI

Name: Cpt. Jonah Hawthorne
Nicknames/alias: Jonah, Hawthorne,
Age: 38
Place of birth & ethnicity: Topeka, Kansas & white
Gender: Male
Occupation: Former Confederate solider (Rank Captain), Currently Sheriff



Apperance: Jonah is a bit on the rougher side, wearing a fairly think beard around his his face. Well, mostly around his face. Unfortunately he had crossed path with former Union soliders who brandish his face with a cattle prod before authorities saved him. His hair is of neck length and doesn't particularly care how it sits since most of the time it is hidden under his hat. ANother thing to note is that he has a bit of a nasty limp in his right leg from when he was shot back in the Civil War.

Clothing: Old Confederate officer frock coat open, white sleeve shirt under old confederate vest, leather pants, boots, duster and old and worn confederate hat as shown in picture.

Personal style: As descripted above unless inside which its usually just shirt, pants and boots.

Personality: Heh. Er'y body wants teh know what makes me so special but lemme sey this. I'm not goin about cawlin mahself a Capten, its former Capten, Dun caw me that Nuttin really. I just consier mahself a man of ahnor, n'a man o truth. Shame ah fought for the wron' side but it ehs whaddit ehs. Dun tawk about it much. Nuttin worth taw'kin about. (Jonah is a rather straight forward individual both on and off the job. His lack of sympathy and distain for bullshit has made him a lot of enemies both within the law and among the civilian population. However, he has been known to show curtesy and some generosity but that is once in a blue moon, if he even feels up to it. He also is a bit reckless and has a tendency to put himself in harms way, purposely. His military life has effectively desensitized him to death and murder, so the sight of either has no true effect on his psyche. Thanks to Anderson and Quantill and there horrific acts on the civilian population during a time of war, he now shows little to no sympathy for thieves, rapists, murders and sinners.)

Habits: Jonah usually wipes his mouth often, this is mostly due to the hole in the side of his mouth which allows drool and liquids to flow out. He also chews on cigars when he's bored or clicks his tongue when agitated.



Regular life skills: Tracking, Sharpshooting, hand-to-hand, hunting, fishing, horseback riding and simple guerilla tactics.
Combat skills: Henry Model 1860 lever action rifle: Effective shot at around 160 yards, Excellent shot from 150 yards down.
Smith & Wesson Revolvers: Effective shot at 30 yards, Excellent shot at 20. Moderate firing speed with dual pistols, excellent firing speed with single pistol in hand.
Knife(ives):
-Throwing skills: Effective at 5 yards, excellent 4 and down.
-Combat: Moderate knife combat skill.

Items on your person: Henry Model 1860 lever action rifle lever action with a Henry Golden boy Scope and mount, two Smith & Wesson Top Break revolvers, Large boot knife, Bowie knife under coat and a small derringer pistol kept in the sleeve of his shirt. Sheriffs badge also hidden under coat, Rifle round belt, Tabacoo, tobacco papers and cigars. Small flask, 5 dollars and thirty five cents and a small book containing names of wanted men and their bounties.
Additional stuff: Canteen, spare Longjohns and double of his clothing including boots with spurs. 50ft of rope, extra rounds and cleaning kit. Spare bandannas. riding gloves.


What brings you to Haylliesburg:
Jonah had decided to come to Haylliesburg to escape his past mistakes in the hopes of starting anew as law enforcement. Although, as law enforcement he has earned a reputation as sort of a lose cannon.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg:

Jonah was a solider of the Civil War, siding on the Confederates side with the intention to make his way to captain and help the south defeat the North. Over time however, as he delved into the politics of it, his view on the war started to shift not in favor for the south nor the north. He became rather disgusted of it. His disgust of the war was only concreted into his head when he rode under two notable figures, both at separate times. William C. Quantrill and William T. Anderson, both of which he despised thanks to a few raids done on towns who sympathized for the Union. One he recalls was a horrific raid on a Missouri town causing the death of many with zero discrimination and with extreme prejudice. Towards the end of the war he had reluctantly accepted the promotional rank of Captain and was told to lead a group of men against a Union encampment. However, when he had gotten there, instead of fighting, he simply surrendered and awaited the end of the war in a cell, managing to talk his way out of the hangmen's noose. The war had left horrible scars on him both physically and mentally but nonetheless felt that he needed to make amends and the way he would do that would be to become a sheriff.

There are parts of his passed that he refuses to talk about for specific reasons, thought, most of those reasons simply consist of "None of your business".

"Dons' matter when or where, but someday soon I'm gonn' die, and'da devil gon' take what's his...An' I'm not gonna try an' stop'em."

• Alcoholic.
• Smoker
• Also has the developing symptoms of Tuberculosis
• roleplayerguild.com/topics/150311-when..
• Favorite Western(s): Tombstone, True Grit (both old and remake), Quick and the Dead, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and finally more of a comedy, Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles.

Name: Joseph Rittenour
Nicknames/alias: Mingan, (Gray Wolf) or Askuwheteau, (He who keeps watch) To those who know him best, he may be called Long Knife
Age: 37
Place of birth & ethnicity: Salamanca, N.Y/Onöndowá'ga (Seneca; Great Hill People of the Iroquois Confederacy/Haudensee; the People of the Long House)

Gender: Male
Occupation: former Union soldier, former farm laborer, now bounty hunter



Apperance: Joseph Rittenour stands 71" tall and weighs 180 Lbs. He has a lean, fair build. His long black hair is occasionally braided and his brown eyes are very focused. He has tanned skin due to his heritage as a member of the People of the Mountain, Onondowagah, (pronounced: Oh-n'own-dough-wahgah), what the white man calls, Seneca. There was a time when Joseph wore a thin mustache, but he remains clean shaven now. He has several scars on his body, but none that can be seen while wearing clothing.

Clothing: Joseph wears traditional tanned leather breechcloths with leggings. On his feet, he has packed his moccasins away in place of leather boots worn as a soldier. He wears a white cotton button shirt, decorated with seven lengths of beads worn around his neck. The beads vary in color between red, blue, violet and brown. A few ribbons hang down from the necklaces. He wears his blue and gold Infantry blouse unbuttoned over this shirt. Upon his head, he prefers to wear a traditional Iroquois headdress, a cap covered in brown horsehair and a single eagle's feather standing straight up. He wears a gun belt over his breechcloths with a single revolver on the right side and occasionally a cavalry saber (Long Knife) on the left. A knife is tucked into his left boot and a much longer blade is located on his gun belt behind his holster.

Personal style: He dresses the way he wants to dress. It is a reflection of who he is today; a cross between his past as a member of the People of the Long House as well as a member of the white man's world. He has accepted the white man's world and has been on a quest of learning since the war ended almost 16 years ago. He has considered returning to his people, but for now yearns for something, he knows not what; a quest for knowledge.

Personality: Joseph is an inquisitor and a thinker. He remains silent, reticent most of the time, observing others. He has an analytical mind, constantly in thought. When he speaks, it is because he believes he has something important to say. He is not given to idle chatter. When the moment requires action, he is quick. He does not dwell over past transgressions or misdeeds directed at him. He resolves conflicts as soon as possible. His English is precise. He does not speak with an accent or with broken words.

Habits: When in contemplation, he places the whole of his right hand over his mouth, fingers sprawled across his left cheek and thumb across his right cheek. When in battle, black paint is applied to his white-painted face in the manner of his hand when in thought. He learned how to snap his fingers during the Civil War and will often snap them without thinking about it. He also likes to whistle while riding.



Regular life skills: Tracking, hunting, shooting, Hand to hand combat, farming, guerilla tactics, caring for horses and other domestic animals.

Combat skills: Joseph is a decent shot with a pistol and a fair shot with a rifle. He could engage targets out to 100 yards with the rifles about fifty percent of the time. Joseph prefers to use a bladed weapon, either a knife or sword. He has practiced using the sword and has years of experience in hand-to-hand combat with and without a knife. Joseph prefers to look into a man's eyes, when killing.

Items on your person: The clothing listed above, 1873 Single-Action Cattleman Revolver, US Cavalry saber, bone-handled 12" Bowie hunting knife, Beaver Tail 7-1/4" dagger/boot knife, 32 rounds of .45 caliber ammunition in the re-load slots of the gun belt. The belt is worn with the buckle on the left hip behind his saber. This makes reloading faster and keeps the buckle from binding up his groin while riding. He carries $125 in cash in a pocket of his blue infantry blouse.

Additional stuff: Joseph rides a tan/white spotted Apaloosa Stallion named Pajackok (means Thunder). He uses a Western saddle, which he has grown accustomed to. A 50' coil of rope is attached to the saddle, a black fringed rifle sheath carrying an 1873 Sharps rolling block .40-90 Buffalo gun, 100 rounds of .40-90 (.403") caliber ammunition and an additional 200 rounds of .45 caliber pistol ammo. His saddle bags contain the ammunition, spare moccasins and food. He has a one-gallon canteen of drinking water, brushes and tools for taking care of his mount. He carries a feed bag containing oats and vegetables or fruit when fresh to give to Pajackok. A rolled wool blanket is tied right behind his saddle.


Joseph is riding with his friend Iiniwa (meaning: Bison), AKA: Lauren Cartier. They have been riding for the past two years together, performing various jobs and collecting bounties when available. The two parted ways three days ago. Lauren traveled ahead to Haylliesburg while Joseph brought a $100 bounty in to Tucson. Joseph is carrying Lauren's split of the reward money.

Joseph is standing on a hill listening to the sounds of gunfire inside Haylliesburg at present.

Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Joseph was born Askuwheteau (He who keeps watch). He grew up playing with the other children in his village near Salamanca, N.Y. He grew up as a member of the People of the Mountain or sometimes referred to as the People of the Western Door. They were once part of the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy that remained intact for over six hundred years. They were friends with the Mohawk, Onondaga, Oneida, Cayuga and Tuscarora peoples. After the US gained their independence, the chain of the six nations was broken. Many of the Seneca moved north of the St. Lawrence, several to the Ohio River valley and a few remained in the Finger Lakes region of Western New York.

As a boy, he played Lacrosse with his friends and learned to hunt, trap, fish and track with his fathers and brothers. He learned to use the traditional Iroquois weapons, bows, knives and hatchets. It wasn't until he joined the US Army that he learned to use firearms. He also learned to farm and take care of domestic animals.

As Askuwheteau grew into a teen, his name changed to Mingan (Gray Wolf). It is the name he prefers. When the white man's nation exploded into a war between the northern and southern people, Mingan felt the urge to learn about the white man's culture and seek adventure. He adopted a white man's name, Joseph Rittenour, which means nothing to him. He felt it was necessary to fit in with their society.

He learned of the creation of an all Indian Infantry Regiment in a land known as Kansas. He and twenty of his brothers traveled together in search of Kansas. They discovered Big Creek near the town of Hays, KS in the summer of 1862. They were mustered into D Company of the 2nd Regiment, Indian Home Guards, Kansas Infantry. All of the Seneca men were placed in D Company. There were 95 men when the unit was formed.

Joseph and his brothers were issued Union blue uniforms and weapons. They cut their hair and dressed like white soldiers. The white men tried to teach them to fight, but their own way of fighting, which they learned as children would always take over. They practiced shooting, but would never fight in lines like the white men; using the guerrilla style of tactics that came naturally to them.

The 2nd Regiment made an expedition into Indian Territory (Oklahoma) where they captured Fort Gibson. They fought during Blount's Campaign in Missouri and Arkansas in the fall of '62. In late December, 1862, the 2nd Regiment made an expedition over Boston Mountains to capture Van Buren. Following that campaign, they were sent back to Indian Territory to occupy a line of the Arkansas River and protect friendly Indians, with Headquarters at Fort Smith, Ark., and at Fort Gibson, until May, 1865.

Operations near Fort Gibson included Greenlief Prairie on June 16, Cabin Creek on July 1-2, and Elk Creek, near Honey Springs, on July 17. Then they conducted operation in Cherokee Nation September 11-25, 1863. On December 16, 1863, they repulsed Quantrell's attack on Fort Gibson. The Seneca brothers, numbering 32 in May, 1865 mustered out of service.

During his time in the Army, Joseph fought in many engagements against both Confederate white soldiers and Indian units. He learned to shoot and to ride a horse with a saddle as well as to improve his understanding of English. Joseph fell in love with the white man's culture, but not the white man. He was thirsty for knowledge, deciding to travel the land to learn what he can about their way of life.

He started as a farm hand in southwestern Kansas. He found many other natives in this region and often traveled into Indian Territory (Oklahoma) to socialize with others. He even found other Onöndowá'ga people (Seneca) who had moved here from New York a century ago. He was welcomed into his new family with open arms. He split his time between working farms in Kansas and gathering with new family members in Indian Territory.

Eventually, he learned about outlaws and bounties. He learned a man could earn a living by capturing wanted criminals and turning them over to white lawmen. He saw this as an easy way to make money, albeit slightly dangerous. In fact, three of his brothers died during the course of taking five wanted men alive.

In the past six years as a Bounty Hunter, Joseph traveled with white, black and red bounty hunters. He enjoys his time with fellow natives like himself, but finds himself intrigued when in the company of white or black men willing to share with him. Joseph's life has been rigorous and challenging, but he maintains a positive attitude and is thrilled about his time on the American plains.

For the past two years, Joseph has been traveling with a man he met from Manitoba, Canada named Iiniwa or Lauren Cartier. They split up three days ago. Lauren headed to Haylliesburg, Arizona, while Joseph went to Tucson to turn in a $100 bounty. Today, Joseph is nearing Haylliesburg to rejoin his partner.

• Speaks Seneca, Algonquin, English and conversational French
• Carries no animosity towards former Confederate Soldiers, only respect; especially for Quantrell's Raiders.
• Avoids alcohol when possible. Imbibes only occasionally. It turns him into a crazy person
• Has never participated in a game of cards. He will sit and watch card games without participating.
• Check out Joe's Journal.
• My favorite western is The Good, The Bad and The Ugly