Deadlands: Dodge City

Galihvi Wesa's Eighth Twisted Tale
Seek wisdom, not knowledge, knowledge is of the past, wisdom is of the future.

Gahlivi’s Eighth Twisted Tale

I’m with the Agayuli Asgaya (Old Man) & the Didanasvhvsgi (Bandit). Our task is to distract the aniyawisgi (soldiers) on the talugisgi soquili (iron horse). Utsasquidi Asgaya (Crooked Man) tells me that All talugisgi soquili (iron horse) have aniyawisgi (soldiers) on them to protect them from Didanasvhvsgi (Bandit). I can only think that they are braves that protect the yvwi (people) that travel on the talugisgi soquili (iron horse). So, Agayuli Asgaya (Old Man) is to cut the talking lines the whiteman uses to talk over great distances, this will keep the aniyawisgi (soldiers) on it from telling others of our attack. He also tells me that we’re to uyanvdv ayvdaqualosgv (call thunder) to the talugisgi usdiganvnv (iron trail) & break it apart. This way the talugisgi soquili (iron horse) will crash & not be able to come after us. I don’t nasgiyai (like) this plan. Too many innocents will be hurt (some of my people will probably be on this too). I change the atlilosdodi (plan) when we’re away from Utsasquidi Asgaya (Crooked Man) & explain to the others that we only uduladi (need) to separate the 1 atsododi (car) from the rest of the talugisgi soquili (iron horse).

So we do it.

The next part of the atlilosdodi (plan) is for us to asano (dress) as “Injuns” & attack the talugisgi soquili (iron horse). Again, I don’t nasgiyai (like) this, but I don’t have enough iyuwakodi (time) to get the other 2 to dress up as galvquodisgv (fancy) Virginians. So I go along with this part.

Agayuli Asgaya (Old Man) uyanvdv ayvdaqualosgv (calls thunder) on the talugisgi usdiganvnv (iron trail), destroying it after the talugisgi soquili (iron horse) passes! While this happens, I see Pinkerton & Wang Peng both anelodisgv (trying) to push a Union ayawisgi (soldier) off of the back of the atsododi (car) they’re on. They don’t seem to be able to do it, so I agilvdi (ride) up behind them, lasso the soldier & stop my soquili (horse). This yanks the ayawisgi (soldier) off of the talugisgi soquili (iron horse) & onto the ground, almost killing him. I then walk over to him & shoot him, putting him out of his misery & collect my bloody trophy.

After this I notice that the atsododi (car) is stopping very fast. I agilvdi (ride) past it too make sure that it has been isolated from the rest of the talugisgi soquili (iron horse) & see that it has. I stay there to make sure we’re not attacked from there. In a short while, we make away from the lone atsododi (car) & head back towards town. All of the way, I degalvsadadisgv (clear) any tracks we might’ve left.

When we get to the Didanasvhvsgis (Bandit’s) house, we ditlohisdi (meet) with Ezekial & make our trade for the “greased lightning” pills, I get my cut of 16 pills. Afterwards, I head into Dodge to settle a bill with Ski’-rik…

I walk into the Longbranch & see that somehow Wang Peng has beat me here. I nod at him & make my way over to the “irregular’s” gasgilo (table). Ski’-rik is in his seat. He sees me coming & doesn’t seem to know why. When I get up to the gasgilo (table), I “pull iron” on him catching him “flat-footed.”

“Next time you send me out to die, you better make sure it’s done.” I tell him in Cherokee, I want this conversation between us & not the “white-man’s law”.

“I didn’t send you out to die. You’re alive.” Is his response back in the same tongue, he apparently also doesn’t want their involvement in this.

The tsunaditasdi (saloon) has gone very quiet at my “drawing iron” here. Even Wang peng has put his soup spoon down to watch this exchange. This soft sound rings across the room like ayvdaqualosgv (thunder).

“I’m only alive because the Great Spirit was watching out for me & guiding my steps on the trail.” I explain in a whisper, because I notice while we’re talking, he keeps looking at Hoover aninvi (sitting) next to him.

He looks at me in some confusion, so I digosisodi (explain).

“You sent me out to kill “black soldiers” at Fort Dodge. There aren’t any of the buffalo soldiers living there. What is “living” there are wendigo that call themselves “the Black Regiment.” I then go on to explain to him how I managed to walk into the fort to “volunteer” to scout for them, only to be taken prisoner.

As the captain was getting ready to lock me into the prisoner wagon, I managed to grab a pistol from one of the soldiers standing nearby & shoot the captain in the head, blowing away part of his face. What I don’t tell him is that the pistol was actually a “hide-out” I’d purchased only days before. I then explain the ensuing battle. About how I was able to shoot both the captain & the other soldier standing nearby, though I did get knocked in the back of the head several times, while shooting them. At the same time as my attack, there came from outside the walls a familiar cry of a coyote war party. The Great Spirit must’ve sent them here to help me in this trial.

I’d timed my attack with the opening of the wagon. This provided the prisoners with the opportunity for freedom. The first to take that opportunity was a white “holy” woman. She came out of the cage garbed in a tattered “habit.” With her came another man & they both quickly took the reins to the horses conveniently hitched up. I run over to my horse & lead him over to the gate, lifting the bar up & away. As I turn back around to make sure the wagons are moving out, I see a horrific sight. The captain & the other soldier are both rising up off of the dirt yard, while the holes in their heads are closing up. I hear a gurgling sound coming from the captain as he looks at me with a bloody eye that I’d just shot out! He’s laughing at me.

By the time I get the nun & the other wagon out of the fort, there’re only 4 braves left in the raiding party. I ride out to them & quickly explain to them what’s happened. They offer to help us get away. After we get several miles away, we split up the differing prisoners amongst us. The braves take all of our people with them. The nun & I take the rest back to town & back to Masterson’s.

Ski’-rik sits with a stunned look on his face.
“Next time you wrong me like that, I will do less talking with my mouth.” So I put my “iron” away & head out the door, I think Preacher Jenkins would be proud.

I head into lower Dodge, looking for Analasgigv Alisoqualvdi (Dancing Bear). I awadvdi (find) him at a tipi just outside of town, this is where he lives I discover. I tell him about the wendigo out at Fort Dodge & ask him about how to adahisdi (kill) them, since shooting their heads off didn’t work so well. He explains to me that I uduladi (need) to gelasdodi (feed) them gantlai galitsohidv (animal tallow). I remember this from my first encounter with Jack Carter. This is how he adahisdi (kill) them. I thank Analasgigv Alisoqualvdi (Dancing Bear) & leave town to pray to the Great Spirit in thanks for his help. It is during this iyuwakodi (time) I realize that I’ve wronged Ski’-rik. So I head back into Dodge & the Longbranch, to smoke the peace-pipe.

While sharing the pipe, I discovered the following;
1. The whore’s “food drive” went well.
2. There’ve been more “lynchings.” These’ve been going on for several months now.
3. The new restaurant “Ketchum’s” is doing well. Apparentl Hoover is a “partner.”

After this, I head over to the Orient to “redeem” my vdatinelv (token). I get a sweet young gvhnage tsisqua (black bird) from Mexico. We do many bad things together.

The next sunalei (morning), I ditlohisdi (meet) with the other tsunalii (friends) of Jack Carter & get told about the Utsasquidi Asgaya (Crooked Man) being “strung up” last svnoyi (night). Wang peng says he heard a voice with an uganawuiditlv (southern) accent. He imitates it & Utsasquidi Asgaya (Crooked Man) recognizes it as “Louisianan.” Pinkerton also tells me that this uganawuiditlv asgaya (southern man) was also able to uyanvdv svnoyi (call night) to blind others to him.

It is now that I tell them of what happened to me out at Fort Dodge & the Wendigo. Pinkerton immediately says that they’ll alisdelvdi (help) me adahisdi (kill) the gvhnage (black) regiment. It is during this ditlohisdi (meet) that we see a group of white men riding up in front of the marshal’s office.

While we’re walking out of the Longbranch to see what they’re doing, I see Luke Short come out of the office to confront these men. When he calls out to them, a shadow moves behind him & cold cocks him, knocking him unconscious.

“What are you doing?” Pinkerton calls out!

“We’re gettin’ somethin’ done!” The old man replies. He’s apparently the father of the latest lynching victim. He goes on to say that he’s not happy with Masterson’s slow justice & is going to “light a fire” by taking Luke Short as incentive for Bat. To make a long story short, Pinkerton assures him that we’re looking into it & to leave Luke alone. Great…

After the dinadaniyisgi (posse) leaves, Masterson accepts our help & shows Pinkerton his case files, a lone piece of paper with a list of dunadov (names) on it of victims. It is while they’re looking into the files, that I adanvdadisdodi (remind) them about Wang Peng saying the uyanvdv svnoyi (night caller) had a uganawuiditlv kanegvuyoyvgv (southern voice). Masterson tells us there’s a asgaya (man) named Lafayette that has a wagadidvhnadisdodi (ranch) just outside of town.

We go there.

I scout out the nahnagesv (territory) of this Lafayette. While doing so, I run into a “hand” who’s repairing the asoyv (fence). He tries to “scare” me off, so I just keep on agilvvsgv (riding). He asdawadega (follows), so I start asking him about game here. We spend the afternoon agilvvsgv (riding) & talking. He eventually introduces himself to me as Fred Marcus, Quaker.

Braddick Mission File #47


Michael Braddick

Dodge City
Great Bend

Personal Report

Due to certain upcoming physiological changes it became necessary to let Mr. Salinger in on my condition. Because I knew that J.D had secrets of his own to keep, I thought he would be a good candidate to keep mine. Though I’m not sure what kind of predicament that J.D is caught up in I know that it is a darkness of some kind and probably needs watching.

The night went by pretty uneventful as I was able to keep control and not let myself give in to the beast. The next morning it appeared that Free Crow had idea to hire us for a job. Always looking to stay ahead we decided to hear them out.

What a joke. It appears that Ezekial wanted us to rob a train for some nitroglycerin and we could take the payroll as payment for the job. I don’t know how the mind of this crazy guy works, but if we wanted to rob the train we could just do that on our own and then sell him the nitro and double our money. Besides the fact that it’s a Union payroll I had no interest in doing something for free. I wasn’t much keen on robbing a train to begin with. However, it seemed that J.D worked some deal with him for some goods in return for the nitro and I figured I would go along to see what exactly Ezekial was up too. He seems to be building some sort of device that I’m sure would require closer inspection.

We caught a train to Goodland and then another train to Colby where we were able to board the Union Blue in route to Topeka. We proposed to have some our team blow the telegraph line futher up the tracks and we would disable the tracks after we took the train car to prevent any kind of immediate pursuit. J.D got a jar of some sort of acid to eat through the train car coupling to disengage the cars that we needed.
Getting to the end of the train was a bit of a chore since we had to pass over a heavily armored train car to get there. What they have in there I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling we are going to find out. This job may have multiple payouts after all…

Michael tries his hand at Friendship
The Demon

Michael has shared his secret with me, his burden as it seems is of a feral nature. I never cottoned much to the idea of werewolves and vampires even before I’d figured out that they might in fact be real. The Maudlin press and funny papers have portrayed Michael and his lot as damned souls and tortured heroes, but I see the world with an enlightened perception you only gain from extinguishing the fires of well over 100 souls. Michael and his kind are nothing more than overgrown coyotes and vampires just man sized mosquitoes in black suits. Nonetheless I can appreciate him sharing his affliction even though I can’t see the down side of being a werewolf. So what if you kill people, I have a certain proclivity for that task anyway. If I were a wolf I wouldn’t even have to carry a knife.
I’m riding back into town after tying Michael to that Elm tree in the north woods and I can’t help but wonder what he must of think about my dark passenger. Obviously at one moment or another he caught a glimpse of old patch and started making assumptions.
Assumption #1 is probably that I’m a good person and patch is an affliction that I have been cursed with. That’s laughable; I was connected with patch long before Gettysburg and Jack Carter, I consider his companionship my birthright. I didn’t see patch back in those early days, but I knew he was there and could feel him protecting and guiding me to our eventual collaboration and the sharing of this body. Assumption #2 is probably that I want freedom from my dark passenger or at the very least a temporary respite from my living prison, when in actuality I feel too often that I am the jailer and Patch is limited by the confines of my earthly shell and the spaces in which this frame can safely travel. The last and possibly most flawed Assumption would be that by having me tie his hairy Yankee hide to a tree outside of town that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. A hungry lycanthrope can be a very useful tool for obscuring the real cause of death in one of my kills, which brings my thoughts back to Isaac the young man I let win $50 from me while I loaded him up with Laudanum and paid for his hotel stay so I’d know what room he’s in.
A sense of nervous anticipation shoots up from the base of my spine through my neck to the very tops of my ears. It feels like it’s been a long time since I’ve killed anyone, but it’s only been a couple days.

“Nicolette….” I whisper her name and it hangs in front of me like the steam of breath I uttered it with in the cool night air. I miss her and I can tell by the way Patch is jostling at the reins he’s anticipating our encounter with Isaac. “Easy old friend. The night is ours, he had enough of our concoction to knock out two men.” Patch is still insistent that I hasten our pace and he’s never been wrong before so I put the spurs to my horse and speed across the night as if I were about to miss a party.

Half an hour later I slow back down to a playful trot as I enter the main strip of this little mining town. There’s a light on in the stables so I guide my horse there instead of the hitching post in front of the hotel/bar. The bar keepers son Jasper is feeding and brushing a fancy black horse while his father checks the hoofs for defects. I only know Jaspers name because I paid him two dollars to let me borrow a horse for a couple hours so Michael and I could go out far enough so the towns folk wouldn’t hear the wolf and come investigating. Before I stop in front of the stable I try and evaluate the situation at hand. It would seem like nothing out of the ordinary if it weren’t 11:00 at night. Obviously someone is making a hasty exit with the night as cover. None of this is my business really so I just want to board this borrowed horse and get to business in the hotel while not getting this boy in trouble with his father.

“Jasper, how much to stable and feed my horse for the night?”

Jasper looks at my horse and shoots a glance back to his father who is busily prying rocks out of the fancy black horses hooves. His father shrugs, probably because of the late hour and just wanting to get home so Jasper just wings it.

“You want him fed, brushed and shoed Mister?”

I smile back at the boy as I dismount the horse.

“It’s the least I can do.” He replies sharply with a business mans tone. “Four bits.” “Fair enough son.”

I reach into my jackets inner left breast pocket for one dollar and happen to notice the monogram on the fancy horses saddle bags is I.M. and it has custom designed holding pockets with Hoyle playing card decks hanging out of them. I am incensed!


I hand him the dollar.
“The man who owns this horse is he blonde haired around twenty six years old and wearing a signet ring with a large green stone on his left hand?”

The boy thinks long and hard with an the inner turmoil of his resolution is all over his face when he answers..
“…Uhh I don’t know…?”

“ There’s an extra dollar in it for you…….”
I pull out another coin and hold it inches from his face. The boy to his credit is still hesitant and I’m starting to think this won’t be enough money to sway his loyalties, but Jaspers father has a lower buying price than he does.

“Tell ‘em boy and take that damn money fore he puts it back in his pocket.”

Jasper grabs the silver dollar and squeezes it tight in his hand.

“Yes sir, he came down not to long ago and said he was leavin, showed me some fancy card tricks and paid me two dollars to forget what direction he was headin in and what time he left if anybody asked.”
“Good job son.”
I can appreciate the boys’ loyalty, even if it is to the all mighty dollar. At this point in his life his word still means something to him, he believes in honor and respect. His father it would seem has been beaten by life, and his many failures and compromises are going to weigh this boy down and limit his potential by setting a ceiling of low expectations due to his own experiences. I watch Jasper hand the dollar to his dad and that sorry son of a bitch on his knees surrounded by shit between a horses legs removing rocks from it’s shoes smiles at me. This S.O.B. smiles like we taught his boy a lesson.
Honestly I’m offended at the notion, I should pistol whip him within and inch of his life! Even better yet I could kill him, Jasper would be better off without this halfhearted broken souled bottom feeder as a role model. I know from personal experience the death of your parents can make you fade into nothingness or rise like a phoenix out of the ashes of your former life.
I do believe in fate so if his name begins with an I Isaac is off the hook and this jackass is my quarry in his stead.

“I recognize you from the bar….”

He nods and maintains that shit eating grin on face.”

“….you’re the bartender right?”

He stuffs that silver dollar in his front pant pocket.

“Yep, the names Samiel.”

He stands, wipes off his hands with a rag from his back pocket and extends his right hand for a shake.

“The names J.D.”

I oblige his need for acknowledgement and shake his hand, but unfortunately Samiels name is not on my kill list so I have to move on.

“You fellas have a good night, it’s well past a decent hour.”

I tip my hat to the father and pat the boy on the head. As I walk out of the stables patch whispers in my ear.

“You should’ve killed the father.”

Now I love patch, I really do. Since my family died while I was off fighting for Virginia in the war I haven’t been closer to anyone else.

“Are we going to kill Isaac or waste the night cleaning up from mercy killings?”

I hardly if ever reprimand my dark passenger, but I need him to understand I haven’t gone soft I’m merely a slave to time.

I make my way through the unlit alley behind the main strip that the hotel is set on. It’s all but silent in this back alley save for the jangle of my spurs in the dirt. The air is foul with the sour stench of old bath basin water thrown out of windows and into this alley. It literally smells like the scent off of a thousand asses.

When I pass the currency exchange I happen upon an old mule loaded up to bear with mining tools hitched up to a post behind it and the spoiled water in the alley is cut with the mineral laden scent of ghost rock. Just to the left of the mule jutting out of the shadows created by the exchange wall is a pair of weathered mining boots with holes in the soles. The miner must have scored and he’s waiting for the exchange to open. I hear a loud clack echo through the alley a sound I know to well. He’s awake and he just loaded his shotgun. I raise my hand slowly with my empty palms facing the shadow the boots are sticking out of.

“Just passing through friend. There won’t be any robberies tonight less’en you planning on robbing me.”

He doesn’t say or do anything in reaction so after a couple seconds I point towards the direction I’m heading and back towards it. I keep moving down the alley slowly with my hands up in the air cause I know that shotgun is still drawn on me.

Four buildings away and I’m probably out of his range, between the distance and obscuring shadows as long as he isn’t following I should be safe. I let my hands down and my path continues mirroring the main strip, shortly after I pass the barber shop the main street right angles and I’m heading to the north and three buildings down is Isaacs hotel. As I make my approach it feels like I’m almost on cue as a satchel is thrown from a second story window shortly followed by a pair of boots and a fancy blue hat.

I drop back into the shadows across from the hotel and slowly draw my boot knife shielding the blade so it won’t cast a glint of moonlight and notify him as to my position. I then watch as Isaac exits his hotel room bare feet first and shimmies down the wooden shake of the hotel exterior like a man who’s just seen death. Luckily for me Isaacs in too much a hurry and five feet from the bottom his foot slips on a loose piece of shake and he slides down the wall almost instantly scraping his face, feet and palms the whole way down.

For only being a five-foot drop Isaac hits hard on his heels and rolls onto his back. It almost assuredly knocks the wind out of him so now’s my time to strike. I feel ridiculous doing it, but it seems barrel rolls are the quickest way to cover a great distance in a short amount of time. My first move is a diving barrel roll out of the shadow and into my preys’ direction towards his head. The key is to get the greatest distance I can while being mindful of the fact that I am brandishing a knife with an twelve inch blade. I could cut myself to ribbons if I pull my left hand in when I tuck for the roll. The tuck goes well, but I am slightly disoriented as I roll to my feet, but I need one last dive to make it to my target. The truth is that the actions take two maybe three seconds, but the thoughts during make it feels like an eternity. (Look out for the knife! Is he getting up? Should I stab him in the chest or slit his throat?) I have literally a split second to make a multitude of situation altering decision. I am slightly off balance for my second launch, but the time I would take to gather for my second dive could be Isaacs reprieve.

I launch at Isaac and resolve that cutting his throat is wise given the proximity of the miner down the alley and the sleeping inhabitants of the hotel. I land on his squirming body, but I over shoot by about two feet and the natural cut for where I land on his body is his lower belly and/or the genitals. This is horrible news for Isaac, because neither one of these areas are kill shots and his life will continue at least temporarily. The pain from both is incapacitating and remarkably high so he shouldn’t be able to run away.

My chest lands hard on his head almost taking my own breath away when my sternum hit his forehead. The force of my jump and the swinging motion of both arms coming down with the knife should allow me to penetrate his navel and drive it down to his spine and steep the tip of this blade at least two inches into the ground beneath him before it stops. When my blade gets within an inch of his body the air around him crackles. There is a shimmer of amber light and three cards appear in his left hand. Patch points to the cards and warns me.

“Protection hex!”

It’s to late though, when the instinct hits me to roll of the recoil of my attack on Isaac hits me like a cannon ball to the chest launching me back into and through the cedar wall of the smoke house some fifteen feet across the alley. Everything goes black.

When I come to my nose is assaulted with the scent of salted meats and dried blood. There seems to be some type of gag in my mouth, my hands and legs are bound behind my back and a fire is roaring behind me. Isaac didn’t kill me. He laid me on the floor facing the corner bound and gagged in the smoke house. My clothes are still on, but I don’t have my derringer or extra cards up my sleeve. My shifting about has caught Isaacs attention.

“Good, you’re awake. I was afraid the force of your blow…you’d killed yourself or put yourself into a coma.”

I listen as Isaacs fancy boots clomp on the wood floor towards me and he uses both hands to face me towards him and the fire which I now see is an over loaded smoker with the top off. He must of grabbed something other than cedar chips cause they aren’t capable of creating a three foot flame.

“You goin to kill me or let me go. Either way get off the pot, I have a very busy day tomorrow.”

He’s not responding, just crosses over to the fire and throws some more cedar in it. I have to ask.

“How are you building that huge fire with slow burning chips.”

Isaac scoffs and wipes the grease from the meat soaked wood off on a monogram handkerchief he pulls from up his sleeve. The initials are I.M. just like the saddlebags on his horse.

“You can’t put the pieces together? I don’t mean to insult you, but they make them stupid and crazy in Virginia.

The situation looks pretty bleak right now, this guy should be sleeping off a quarter bottle of laudanum and I should be carving out his heart. I scan the room for anything that could help. Three empty hooks, four with seventy pounds of smoking meat on them and a table with a large bucket of salting spice. That’s it other than Isaacs’s satchel and the silver flasket that fell out of it. Patch urges me to concentrate of the flask and he uses it to show me everything that he saw while I was unconscious.

“Isaac you’re a huckster like me?”

My analysis seems to please him and Isaac claps in hoity northern fashion.

“You’re not as dumb as you look. Yes I am a huckster, but much more powerful than you are!”

Now for those of you unfamiliar with the word huckster, we are modern warlocks of a sort and most of our kind focus’s mystic energies through playing cards and feign as though their powers are tricks and chicanery. The penalty for openly using magic in the white mans world is typically hanging. For this reason we keep a constant eye out for people known as witch hunters, but more to the point Isaac openly insulted me. Five years ago that would have had me seeking retribution, but now looking at what he’s done, the protection hex, the magical fire and he’s probably already looked in my mind to see that I was going to kill him. That’s why he was rushing to get out of that hotel room cause he knew I was closing in.

“You cast a protection hex to repel my first attack.”

I’m leading him with the phrase, because his ability to cast when I attacked from the shadows meant he wasn’t near as disoriented as I had assumed.

“Yes Mr. Salinger I did.”

He’s far too pleased with himself. He fancies himself the intellectual and thinks he’s playing with me.

“Well then Isaac….” My words dripping with a bit of Virginian sarcasm.

“……..I believe that you must need me for something, or else you would have shredded me with a Soul Blast and looted my corpse.”

“True enough, but I still don’t know if I could ever trust you. J.D. I actually took the time to read that twisted little mind of yours.”
My captor shutters in remembrance of his time in my head.
“Didn’t like what you saw?”
He leans down on one knee and brings his face within inches of mine. He pauses for effect and removes the smug smirk that has become his signature expression.

“No. You psychopathic son of a bitch, I didn’t and the shit I saw in there is going to stick with me for a very long time. If I killed you I’d be doing the world a favor. I have never met a sicker, twisted………. beautiful mind!”

His contempt turns to praise and exaltation almost instantly. Isaac laughs and slaps my shoulder. I’m seriously confused.

“Am I still the crazy one or are we taking turns?”

Isaac stops laughing, but the smirk is back on his face and the playful sparkle in his eye.

“You’re still crazy, but I need your help and I knew it from the moment I spotted you across that bar.”

Of course, he read my mind and learned my secrets, his name probably isn’t even Isaac. Sometimes when you’re on the hunt you lose sight of the fact that you might be someone else’s prey.

“So I’m hog tied by my hands and feet, laying on the floor. You have my knives and guns as well as a full working knowledge of how my mind works. What can I do for you?”

He visibly switches gears reaching for his ornate silver flask on the floor, flipping up the cap with his thumb and taking a large pull.

“You’re a Whateley.”

His stare is stern and focused; he’s eyeballing me for visual cues of acknowledgement. I give him nothing, not even a blink when he says it. This not the first time someone has questioned me about my family history and I find it best to give nothing in the form of acknowledgement.

“No. My name is Salinger as was my fathers and my grandfather and his father before him. If there are Whateleys in my background it’s at least five generations back, but I don’t see why my family history is any of your concern. “

I play it as subdued and as matter of as I can, but he’s not buying it.

“C’mon, I know it’s true. Even before I read your mind, your mother is Cecilia Witt from Louisiana.” He offers me a pull. I respectfully decline his offer and he continues. “I even went to Baton Rouge and got her birth certificate.”

Well he just talked himself into a circle.

“So if you know her name is really Witt, then what are we talking about?”
I am tired of this act and if this mans name is really Isaac I am still going to have his heart in my hand before the night is through.

“The point is that it was really smart of your parents to give her a different name on the birth certificate.”

Isaac reaches into the satchel behind him with his free hand and pulls out my mothers birth certificate and places it mere inches from my face. I would have rebuffed his claims once more, but he has me dead to rights. Under parents it’s signed Jacob and Madeline Whateley. My grandfather was a clever piano player, but kind of dull for a witch.

“Alright then, I’m a Whately.”

I roll onto my back and close my eyes.

“Teach me blood magic.”

My captor stands menacingly over my bound form.

“No, I can’t.”

At least I understand why he’s been following me.

“Can’t or won’t?” I don’t dignify the question. “You need a friend J.D. and I am very powerful in my own right.” Besides I know spells that’ll help you hide your Whateley features from hunters. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have had to check out your background to know your heritage; the dark stringy hair, gaunt features, pale skin and that weirdly offsetting look in you eyes.”

He’s right, but I’d be hard pressed to teach any not related to me blood magic.

“Stop talking Isaac, it’s never going to happen.”

Isaac takes advantage of the fact that he’s towering over my helpless body and gives me two violently swift kicks to the stomach. The second kick was so strong that I throw up all over the floor in front of me.

“If you don’t teach me I will kill you!”

I’m woozy and spitting out chunks of bile and bits of steak I ate earlier on tonight.

“Okay then.”

The problem with intimidation is the intimidator always assumes that you are clinging on to life and live in fear of the unknown, I don’t fear death cause patch already has claim to my soul. I would gladly die before I give the keys to my family’s legacy to a northerner. Northerners killed my father when Thomas Carver seized our lands after I came back from the war so rather than let his death be for nothing his is the first heart I ever used to power my magic.

Isaac is noticeable shaken, he knows I don’t have a problem dying today and a man who can’t be intimidated has to be discarded or treated as an equal.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you cowboy. I have a one time offer and I want you to think about it before you say no.” My interest is peaked. “What do you say we play a game of cards…… and the winner gets what they want.”

He absolutely could not be offering what I think he’s offering.

“What are you saying?”

He starts to kneel down again, but stops short realizing that my vomit has spread across the floor and has over taken his boots.

“What I’m saying is you teach me magic if I win and I let you kill me if you win.”

He’s a huckster, meaning he can play cards and has a propensity for cheating. Even so I would love to plunge my knife deep into him and saying yes at the very least would get me off the floor and out of this large pool of puke I am currently laying in.

“Is your name really Isaac?”

He seems stunned by the question.


I pull a deck of Hoyle brand playing cards out from my boot.

“Then yes. You deal!”

He leans down and takes the cards out of my hands. I motion for him to loosen my restraints and he cackles.
“You can’t blame me for trying.”
Isaac starts to deal five cards out to each of us placing the cards off to his left side and directly in my hands.”

“We’re playing straight up five-card with no draw and no cheating.”

I noticed that he didn’t say no magic, but I don’t need it he dealt me three queens an eight of spades and the three of diamonds. Isaac however looks at his cards and closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds. It’s barely more than a blink and would go unnoticed to almost any but another Huckster. In that half second he met a Manitou on another plain and played him in a game of cards for a favor, in this case it was most likely better cards in his hand. I just wait and watch. Isaac smiles and reveals three kings an ace of clubs and a two spades. He cheated and he beat the demon. Damn it! I have to teach this Yankee blood magic. Patch loosens the knots in the rope around my hands and warns me.

“Look into his eyes.”

So I do, but I can’t see past that shit eatin grin on his face.

“No look closer.”

Patch unknots the ropes around my legs and helps me out of the puke and on my feet. Strangely the whole time he’s doing this Isaac is standing there almost frozen in time brandishing those three kings grinning from ear to ear. So I get nose to nose with Isaac and look him square in the eyes. Flames, I can see flames dancing in his eyes.

“Isaac……… is that you in there?”

The smile is still frozen on his face, but he shakes his head no and the three kings turn into an eight of diamonds a six of clubs and a jack of hearts.
“Son of a bitch, you’re the demon!”

The demon nods. Isaac must have wagered control of his body for a favor from the demon and when he lost the demon got his body at least temporarily.
This demon doesn’t appear to be able to talk so I ask patch if he can hear the demons thoughts.

“Yes, his name is Blael and he is occupying this body for the rest of the night. If you don’t get in his way you can have your turn with it just before dawn.”

I haven’t trafficked with many demons, but Patch seems to be fine with him so I have no problem letting hi have some fun. If it looks really interesting I may join him in his pursuits.

“Well Mister Blael I must admit I have a bit of trouble saying your name so for the tenure of our relationship I will call you Bobby.”

The Demon shrugs and makes his way out the opening I left when I came crashing into the smoke house. I scoop up my weapons, cards and that fancy satchel of his and follow his lead.

Bobby makes a bee line straight to an Indian encampment two miles south of town a group of six are sleeping under the stars and we manage to slit four of their throats before the last two woke up. As the last two flee and we give chase I manage to dive at mine and barely cut his Achilles tendon bringing him down quite easily as he pulled him self along with his arms and one good leg I circle him like a shark enjoying my quarries distress. Until I offer him an end to his torment by lodging my blade in his spine and turning it in a large C motion.
My new demon friend however is not quite so efficient. He shows back up with the arm of the one he was chasing, but Patch tells me the Indian got away.
I suppose we could track him down, but the sun will be up in a couple hours. Patch asks me if I’d like to kill that stable boys dad and I would deep down in side that sounds right to me.

“I’d love to Patch, I would. It’s just I have to scalp these injuns and kill Isaac. I really don’t think we have enough night left to get everything we want done.”

Patch and Bobby agree, but Bobby wants to burn down a farm on the way to Michael just north of town. That seems fair, it’s not like he gets out to do stuff like this all the time. We end up stopping at this cute little log cabin as we make our way around to the north east of town and Bobby bombards it with some type of demonic fire that Patch tells me water has no effect on and I tip three of cows in the pasture while we waited.
By the time we get close to Michaels tree. I’d really grown to like Bobby and even though I don’t know him well I consider him a friend. I don’t want to kill him and honestly I don’t think I can. He’s not saying anything, but I know my sensibilities are upsetting to Patch. Everything is simple to him, but I see the shades of grey.

“Patch I don’t think I can kill a friend.”

Bobby comforts me by laying his hand on my shoulder.

“He wants you to do it.”

Nobody wants to die even I understand the distinction between indifference and desire.

“Nobody wants to die Patch.”
We round the hill and can see Werewolf Michael hunch over next to the tree bearing his fangs.

“You can’t kill a demon with a normal knife and he can’t stay in Isaacs body forever anyway. Eventually Isaac will take over and we hate that man.”

While listening to Patch and his compelling argument I fail to notice Bobby sprinting at the Werewolf with flaming hands and death in his eyes. Michael much the same took note of the demon in a man’s body and is straining the chains that are keeping him restrained to this large tree.

“Bobby, that’s my business partner Michael.”

For a non-speaking demon he sure does understand English. Bobby slows down to a walk and stops just short of the savagely angered Michael whose chains are no cutting several inches into the cracking tree.

“He only has a couple seconds before Isaac forces him back out of his body. You have to kill him now.”

Almost on cue Bobby spins around with his arms out and his body in a tee opening his organs to an easy strike for me. Patch pulls the buck knife from my boot and places the handle into my hand.

“I’m goin to miss you Bobby.”

He nods and his eyes roll back into his head. He’s being ejected from the body. I hate Isaac so without any further hesitation I push my blade into his navel and drag it up to the bottom of his rib cage and over to the left of his body another eight inches. Intestines and vital organs spill out into the dirt like a dam had burst and splatter in the dirt like wet clothes dropping on a stone floor. My victim stands there frozen in this moment his last on this earth. Patch assures me that Isaac was conscious the whole time that Bobby had the reins and I find comfort in the fact that he saw it coming and couldn’t do anything.

“Michael that last move there is called Sabuku. It’s Japanese, I read about it in the funny pages in that chop sockey cartoon.”

The body is still standing, but he is obviously dead. Blood and intestines are all over my boots, pants and shirt. I want that heart even if it is in multiple pieces, but I brought him to Michael so he could make it look like a wild animal attack.

“I will push him your way and you can gnaw on him a bit, just leave me the heart okay?”

I push Isaacs very dead body over in Michael’s direction and my once ravenous wolf sniffs the cadaver, walks around to the backside of the tree and sits facing the other direction to the west.

“He doesn’t want to bite him without a demon inside.”

Patch has an ability to overstate the obvious.

“Is there any chance you could jump in his body and let him give it a couple bites?”

He shakes his head no.

“A demon in a dead tore up body, it’s not going to happen. It would be one thing for a body to get torn up while you’re wearing it’s another thing to jump into a broken dead body.

Well it looks like I have to bury the body.

“Oh Michael! Come here boy.”

The werewolf recognizes his name and peers from the side east side of the tree back at Patch and I.

“Can you understand me.” I nod and he turns his head like and over grown Pekinese. “Look we don’t have shovels and it’s an hour to dawn. Since you won’t chew on the body help us dig a hole.”

I walk a couple feet over from the organs and splatter pool and use my buc knife as a digging tool. Patch uses the flask and after watching for several minutes Michael wanders over and helps with his paws. An hour later Michael wakes up as the sun rises on top of a freshly dug grave bare naked and covered in blood from dragging Isaac to the hole.

“Jesus J.D. I feel like hell.” He looks around at the sun, me and down at himself.

“Why are we covered in blood?”
I walk over to the clothes he had hidden next to the tree when I locked him up and toss him the pants.

“You caught a rabbit.”

Not unreasonable. He got out and got a snack.

“Yeah that explains me, but what about you?”

I hate Pinkertons.

“It was a very big rabbit!”


Galihvi's First Scalp
The coward shoots with shut eyes.

Indian warrior with scalp

I woke up to the sound of thunder rolling across a crisp, clear morning sky. I am one week’s travel from my tribe’s winter camp & heading towards my meeting with Jack Carter in Dodge. I know I am heading into hostile territory outside of the Coyote Confederation, so I follow the sound of the big bird flying North-east, quietly moving through the grass, trying to sneak a look at the sacred bird god. What I discovered was nothing nearly so holy.

First I spotted a Whiteman hidden on a rise, with the sun behind him (& me). He is lying in the tall grass, firing a giant rifle, it is it’s voice I followed across the grass. His firey red hair burns in the morning’s light. He is wearing Crow worked skins, with eloquent needle work patterned across the back & shoulders. Sitting atop his hair is a “coon skin cap.” Squatting next to him is a Pawnee brave, he is silently standing guide for the White Man. He is barely noticible next to the garishly colored white man, in his traditional leathers. The shooter is armed with the thunder speaking gun and a large knife they like to call a “Bowie Knife.” The scout is armed with a Colt Peacemaker, tomahawk and a scalping knife. He seems to be “eying” the white man’s rifle. While I am looking at them and their weapons, I notice a “shine” emanating from the large rifle. I know that I need to take this “speaker of death from afar” from him, I just don’t know why… yet.

As I watch, I witness the Whiteman fire another thundering shot across the world. In the distance, I see a family of Cherokee fleeing across the open field, trying for safety, a woman falls dead trying to guard a child. It is obvious that they were caught collecting skins from dead yanasa (buffalo) they had been hunting this season. Scattered across the killing ground before these two are four braves that must have tried to counter attack these two cowards in hiding, all four of them lie dead and broken across the open field. These two “hunters” were planning on stealing the skins these families were collecting for their own profits, a buffalo skin can get as much as $30.00 alone.

I sneak up as close as I can, holding my stone knife in my left hand and Eluwei’s gift in my right, when I am close enough I open fire, hitting the Pawnee in the shoulder (he spins away). The White Man turns around with a surprised look on his face. He fires his rifle at me, just missing me. I jump at him and stab him with my knife. It cuts deep, but not deep enough, red flows freely from his fat side. He comes up at me with his own Bowie knife. He is slower, like most white men, he only cuts my leg, barely cutting through my skins. I knock him down and beat his head against the ground, causing him to have waking dreams.

I receive the red gift from the Pawnee, by way of his shooting me with his Peacemaker. I try returning his gift, it goes wide. So I jump at him & cut him with my stone knife, breaking it’s blade in his leg, I can feel the blade lock into the bones in his leg. He staggers further back from me, firing his gun (grazing my shoulder, more red flowers rise up out of my body in response).

Pain blossoms in my left leg. I turn back to the white man to see that he’s taken a slice out of me with his huge knife. I pull my own “Peacemaker” (why do they call it that? It isn’t peace that they bring. Why not call it “Warmaker”?) around to him & fire one shot at him, hitting him in the stomach raising more blossoms from his fleshy hide. He rolls back like an infant, curling up about his injury & crying softly for what I think is mercy? It is then that I hear the faint sounds of feet falling, going away from me. I look around and see the Pawnee running away from me. He doesn’t look back as he runs.

I move back over to the white man & straddle him beneath me. I return my full attention to him. I take my scalping knife and proceed to take my red haired trophy from him;
“You do not deserve a warrior’s death. You attack families while they are hunting and are afraid to fight warriors. I’ll leave you without a trophy, so that all will know you to be worthless.” I tell him, taking his big rifle, I leave him there bleeding on the ground under the clear sky, following the Pawnee’s tracks…

Less than Graceful


Braddick Mission File #46




Michael Braddick


Dodge City


Side-mission report

Persons of Note:
Hotel Owner

Places of Note:
Ketchum’s (new restaurant)


The team had an impromptu meeting to discuss what was to be done about Ms. Valance and Ms. Kate. Ms. Valance was the difficult one since even though see seemed to be some sort of ‘Spirit of Lust’ she hadn’t done anything wrong that we had noticed. Ms. Kate on the other had had been routinely feeding off of Jack Carter, and even though he seemed to be a willing participant in the matter it wasn’t sure if he wasn’t being bamboozled or something. J.D, Boca and I decided to confront Ms. Kate about it and see what could be done. She was heading up a food drive for the local church and we met her there out front. It was then that when I took a closer look at her that I could see what she was as she literally aged right before my eyes. I could see her getting older and understood that she fed off of people’s life force in an attempt to stay alive. I also noticed particular things about my two companions, but I’m not sure exactly what yet. They will require more observations. J.D made a deal with her that she would no longer ‘partake’ in Jack Carter and instead she would come to work for him and ‘partake’ a bit at a time in those that fancy themselves a working lady while passing through Dodge. Consider it a risk of promiscuity. To help facilitate this J.D and I purchased the Grand Station Hotel (I think) near the train station. It also appears Boca bought some land outside of town with a house and everything. Good for him. Its nice to see the other side succeed.

On one last side note it appears that the murderer Nathan was killed in his jail cell last night with no sign of the killer. I guess someone couldn’t wait for justice to be done.

Galihvi's Seventh Twisted Tale
Listening to a Liar is Like Drinking Warm Water.

The next sunalei (morning), I wake early & head on down to Lower Dodge. The first stop I make is at the War Horse, since that’s the only place I’ve ever agohvi (seen) Analasgisgv Alisoqualvdi (Dancing Bear). I get told that he’s Alisdeliha (helping) some of the People of Lower Dodge just outside of town. I head over.

I Awadvdi (find) him standing outside a Uyoadanelv (shack), talking to some upset people. He asks me what I want with him. I Dulinohelv (tell) him of my Aduladi (wish) to help our people. In my short Iyuwakodi (time) here, I’ve been Agatahi (witness) to how the White Man treats our People. They agisdi (take) without asking or repayment & when we say “no”, they act the Atsisonvnv (victim).

I also Dulinohelv (tell) him about my Adanvtedi (idea) to open a general store/bar to help our people here in Lower Dodge & the region. He Dulinohelv (tells) me that he will Alisdelvdi (help) me if I Alisdelvdi (help) him with three missing men from this neighborhood. They were Agisvhi (taken) last night. So I ayasdi (search) around & find the tracks of two Whitemen wearing boots & one wearing fancier dress shoes were here & carried heavy loads to a cart that was here & then went north.

Analasgisgv Alisoqualvdi (Dancing Bear) tells me to go & talk to Ski’-rik & ask him about what he Ugohvgi (saw). So I head back up to the Longbranch, since again that’s the only place I’ve ever seen him. As I’m entering I see Pinkerton, Boca & the Utsasquidi Asgaya (Crooked Man)leaving the bar, they dulinohelv (tell) me that they’re headed over to one of the many Whitemen’s Galvquodiyu Digalitsodi (holy houses). Does their god live in them?, they dulinohelv (tell) me that they’re going there to talk to Kate Baker about her feeding on Jack Carter.

I find Ski’-rik inside at his usual spot at the poker table, sitting next to the white man George Hoover. They invite me to “sit in.” I buy some chips & then explain to Ski’-rik why I’m there. He slowly tells me (because he’s missing ½ of his tongue) that he will Alisdelvdi (help) me if I will Alisdelvdi (help) him, I uduladi (need) to kill twenty Gvhnage Aniyawisgi (black soldiers) for him. He says that they’re already dead, like at Gettysburg? & “living” out at Fort Dodge. He also lets slip that the missing braves are already dead.

I head back over to Lower Dodge to talk to Analasgisgv Alisoqualvdi (Dancing Bear). On the way, I stop in the cigar shop & buy some. I find him & explain what Ski’-rik told me. I ask him;

1. How to kill soldiers that’re already dead? He explains that I need to shoot them in the head.
2. About the ceremony that the braves & shaman were performing on Clara Vallance under the tree? He explains that the braves & shaman were skin changers & that they were trying to steal her powers.

I head out to Fort Dodge to scout it out.

Braddick Mission File #45


Michael Braddick

Dodge City

Rescue Ms. Valance

Persons of Note:
Bat Masterson
China Doll
Clara Valance
George Hoover (banker)

Places of Note:


It appears that a working girl was taken over night from her room, Clara Valance. I offered to help Marshall Bat Masterson to try and keep the posse that was forming a bit more civilized. We investigated the scene and it had appeared that they were targeting her specifically as they went passed several other windows and even one that was unlocked to break into Clara’s and take her. Word is that it was a group of around 4 Indians.

Galihvi quickly picked up their trail (4 un-shoed horses) and we started out away from the posse’s direction following Galihvi’s lead. We tracked for about a half a day before coming upon a tree in the distance with a fire burning under it. Closer inspection showed 5 figures in some sort of ceremonial Indian garb and Ms. Valance staked to the ground.
The battle was over almost as quickly has it started. This rag-tag group of individuals really knows how to put the hurt out. We took out the leader who looked like some spiritual shaman or something. It was quick work and we managed to rescued Ms. Valance and gather some interesting items as well. I gave Galihvi a piece pipe/tomahawk that one of them were carrying. He seemed pleased with that.

Galihvi and J.D rode out to catch up with the other posse and let them know we had rescued Ms. Valance and dispatched of the kidnappers. We returned to town and received a ‘token’ of appreciation from China Doll her madam. I also investigated what appeared to be a murder at the Longbranch. It appears one of the working girls were murdered in her room by a former Union soldier last night. I go upstairs to take a look, but don’t find anything immediate that would help out the investigation. These former Union boys seem to be causing quite the ruckas lately and getting what they deserve in the end.

Galihvi also uncovered some information about Ms. Valance. It appears that she may be a Succubus. It appears that she is the woman of each of our desires. Looking different to each of us. I also get a chance to talk to Jack as well and it appears that his shortening life is due to Ms. Kate and her draining his life. Neither of these two have done anything immediately wrong, so I’m not sure what we can do about it and Jack seems content to live out his short while with her, but they will need monitoring.

On a side note it appears that Mr. Hoover had a successful bid in repealing the gun law here in Dodge City. So I can carry my trusty derringer without worry now.

She's a Succubus?

A posse gathers in town, to rescue Clara, and my team gets together to help out. I volunteered to wake up Boca this morning, and I’m not sure I want to do that again. We exchanged punches, and the fatman just goes back to bed. I need to get that guy off of his booze. That, or teach him Drunken Boxing; maybe it would serve him well. In either case, I will need to be more tricky when I’m trying to get him to do something.

We set out to rescue Clara Valence, after investigating the nature of her disappearance at the Orient. China Doll was helpful, even if she doesn’t tell me her name. Clara was kidnapped, and the nature of the kidnapping means she was the target, not simply some girl being kidnapped. We catch up to 5 Indians and Clara (tied to the ground) before the town’s posse, and discover some kind of ritual being performed by a shaman. We creep close and open fire. Surprisingly, JD has some interesting capabilities, and together we obliterated the shaman while the rest of the team dispatched of the rest of the indians in an efficient manner. The fight was quick, and no one got hurt. We return Clara to Dodge City,and receive something close to a hero’s welcome. China Doll gave us coins we could use at the Orient. Normally, I am not the sort of person who takes part in that kind of recreation, but I thought now was as good a time as any to gain a better understanding of this country. I had fun, and that’s all I have to say about that.

While relaxing at the Longbranch, we come to the realization that Clara and Miss Kate are Succubi. This is highly unusual, and I’m not sure I like the situation. Jack Carter is compromised, so I’ll have to keep an eye on him, just in case.

To complicate matters, this kidnapping took center stage during George Hoover’s bid to over-rule the GunControl Law enacted by Batt Masterson, the Marshall. This is the same petition I signed my name to, and I think that was a bad decision, now that I know there are political games afoot. I’m not even a citizen, and I doubt they can read Chinese, so no harm I suppose. One thing I do know; give scared people guns and there’s no telling what they’ll decide to shoot, or what bullshit reasons they’ll use to justify it.

Galihvi Wesa's Sixth Twisted Tale
Those That Lie Down With Dogs, Get Up With Fleas.
I wake up to hear uproar about an Ageyv(Woman) being taken during the night by “Injuns.” Miss Clara Vallance is a local “soiled Dove” of some reputation, she’s apparently very unilvquodi (popular). The Crooked Man volunteers his services to the didatinehi (leaders) of Dodge City. We go over the “Oriental” and ayasdi (searched) the outside and find 4 sets of tracks leading up to and back out of a room that the Pinkerton man & the Crooked man are in. I’m able to asesdo (figure) that the tracks were made by 4 people wearin’ moccasins, even that 1 of the tracks were “heavier” than it was before coming up to the building, obviously carrying something gagedv (heavy) away. I explain all of this to everyone else. I give my gun vdatinelv (tokens)to Boca & tell him to bring my Soquili(Horse) to me while I follow the ganvnvi (tracks). Boca & Pinkerton catch up to us with our Soquilis’(Horses’) and guns outside the stable to the Oriental. I asesdo (figure) out that there are 4 Soquilis’(Horses’) that are nigvwasdv (unshod). I track the party to a uwasv (lone) tlugv(tree) with a small fire burning below it. I agowadvdi (see) several figures moving under it. I sneak up and see 4 indians have staked out the whore in her blue dress. I sneak back and explain to the rest that they’re probably skin changers, since they’re wearing waya (wolf) skins. We sneak up on them & attack from hiding! Crooked Man & the China Man both attack the Nvwoti (Medician) Man with some kind of udelidvgvdiadvnelvdi (magic)! This causes him to slump back against the Tlugv(Tree). He gets up again! They have to shoot him again with their Udelidvgvdiadvnelvdi(Magic). I kill the northern one by shooting him and injure another one. I scalp the one I kill. I go searching for the Soquilis’(Horses’) these guys had & I find there down slope from the camp, I find 5 indian ponies, 2 of them have blow guns with darts. Pinkerton gives me the medicine man’s tomahawk, it’s also a peace pipe! Crooked man & me ride on to catch up to both of the posses. We catch the train and let him know that the rest of the group is taking the girl back to town. We catch up to Luke Short, he’s in charge of the Posse. We explain the situation & head back to town. We get back to town & I stable my Soquilis’(Horses’) and sell 3 of the Indian ponies, I get $150.00! I give each of our group $25.00 for their share. We find out from Jack that Nicholette was killed last night by the Veteran Union Soldier, Nathan, he stabbed her to death. I go into lower Dodge and investigate who the Indians were & why they’d kidnap the white Ageyutsa(Girl), also to see what ceremony they were doing. I discover there’s a Nvwoti (Medicine) Man named “ Analasgisgv Alisoquzludi(Dancing Bear)”. He asked me to describe her to him quietly. He then shows me that everyone has a different impression of her, very different! She’s apparently some kind of shape changer or skin walker? I then look into any available lots for sale that would be osdv (good) for either a general store/bar? I go back to the long branch to tell the rest of what I discovered about Clara Vallance. I explain to him what I discover to Jack & Michael. The Crooked Man is over at the Oriental doing something else.

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