Prelude: Homecoming

[Bitom]

Two Dogs chimes in at this point and explains what he saw, with the old man listening, nodding, and scratching the cat's head for the entire time. In the middle of this tale, a young assistant comes in and whispers something to the councilman. He says something back and motions the youth from the room.

"This is Ill news, and bad magic. As usual, we see that a white man is behind one of the events, and probably both are caused by the same man. It seems that there is a man who may be able to tell us more. He is an American law man, who has been hunting a man that may be the one that you saw. He is here today, and requesting permission to enter the Nation, and to continue his hunt."

[Trogdor]

"You think this darkness was caused by one man?" Raven asks. "And a white man invading our lands, at that?" He shakes his head. "That is very disturbing - as much that our protections failed as that he was bold enough to invade us."

"I think we should speak to this law man."

[Bitom]

"The darkness of which you speak," says the old man. "I think I know what it is, and it is something that can be created and controlled by a man with enough power and darkness in his heart."

The door opens and three men come in. Two are white men, and both of them wear the metal stars of American Law men on their vests. The stars are slightly differant, but neither of the brothers has enough experience with Americans to recognize what significance this has. The third man is a black man, who carries the symbols of the missionaries that have been mostly run out of the NAN.

The three men entering are greeted by far more people than they expected. In the room are seated three Injun men of various ages. A woman stands leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Behind the desk is a fourth man, looking to be at least 70 years old and petting a mountain cat that rests on his desk, which looks as though it might be the same age if that weren't plainly impossible. The room reeks of the cat, which none of the injuns seem to notice.

The old man sends the page who brought the three to fetch more chairs, and before long, everyone is seated except the woman, who keeps her place at the wall.

OOC

Welcome Bren and od to the thread. Everyone Please post descriptions and such in your next post.

Bren has been pretty idle of late, but I'm going to try to force him to post Wi8lliam's next, fairly important post before I take him over again until Bren's computer is fixed.

[Vardaen]

Seated among the indians is a young brave obviously of the Lakota collection of tribes. He wears a leather warshirt bedecked with ermine tails in a row across the front that runs from armpit to arm pit. Two strips of quilwork race up the seam of the sleaves, and a few beaded and otherwise decorted bits dangle from the cuffs. He wears a pair of leggings actually, and a breach cloth, lacking the White Man's pants. His leggings are like chaps, but without jeans on underneath, and short leather fringe hangs down the sides of them. The clout is blue trade cloth, with ivory buttons, trade ribbon, and brass sequens in geomentric patterns. A pile of gear sits on the floor next to him, including a bow and quiver, and a rifle. His hair is black, long and in a double braid, the ends wrapped in red trade wool. He appears like any typical wound warrior of his tribe. He seems to defer to the other young man next to him, who has a family resemblance and could make the two brothers. He doesn't nod or greet the white men as they enter. He is still speaking to the man behind the desk petting the cat, "Can one man have so much darkness in him to do this to our village? Even a whiteman can't be that evil, can he?"

OOC

Welcome all!

This is just about what my outfit looks like.

http://www.warshirt.com/

[od]

The black man, Lucas is lean and short. His black outer wear and white collar identify him as a man of god, but the wear to the uniform says he's not the kind that lives in the church and makes his money from donations. His large hands are worn and his face has a grim look like the world is ending, and not in a good way. He stands behind the two white law men, comfortably, and clearly not caring about the subservient position.

[Trogdor]

The man sitting next to the young Lakota brave raises a head as the newcomers arrive. His dress is similar to his brother's, though much less fancy. His leather shirt and leggings are of darker leather and much less adorned ' only a few patches of beadwork with a handful of dark buttons. His hair also falls in a single braid, rather than two, with a pair of raven feathers wrapped in it with a bit of black cord.

"My name is Speaks-to-Ravens," the shaman says abruptly to the white men, "a guide for this world and the other. Wandering Lynx says you know of this darkness that plagues us. I would hear what you have to say."

[Brennor]

The man with fewer letters on the tin star attached to his brown vest pulls off his hat as he enters the room.

The hat had hid his facial features, but now the black hair is visible, as are his brown eyes. This man is pretty tall; certainly taller than the average man, and built pretty well as well; certainly better than the average person.

His light-colored shirt fits well underneath the vest. It is just barely visible beneath the waist length brown jacket the man is wearing.

At his hips, one on either side are the butts of two pistols. Some shiny pieces are also visible on the belt.

Holding his hat in his hand, he offers a bow to the councilman. "I appreciate your offering to see me so quickly Councilman Wandering Lynx."

Offering a smile, William turns towards the man who has just spoken to him. He nods his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"My name is William Bridger. I am a US Marshal and am seeking admittance into the NAN to hunt down a criminal."

This last is spoken to the councilman, though shortly after that, he redirects his attention to Speaks-to-Ravens.

"I do not know about this darkness that you speak of, but would like to hear more of it."

He pauses for barely a moment, just short enough to not allow anyone else to cut in.

"The man I seek is one Russel Kane. Currently, charges of murder, theft, cattle rustling and unnatural acts against the United States of America are levied against him. I've been tracking him for about a month."

He pauses for a moment more before continuing.

"Because I know what your next question will be, these 'unnatural acts' are: after entering a town, he gets into some scuffle and kills a few people. He does something to the bodies with black rocks and gets those that were killed to kill the rest of the town. Pretty much wherever he goes and gets into an argument, a town dies."

He looks to the side for Lucas, and not seeing him there, looks behind up. Having not realized that he was standing in front of Lucas, the man steps aside.

"Could you fill in any details I missed, please?"

[od]

Lucas jsut shrugs, "That's basically how it works. From the sounds of it he's a gambler, and a mighty powerful huckster." Lucas scratches his head absently, "And he was last seen leaving this town and headed west into Injun territory. I suspect by now the spirits of your land are already crying out about his corrupt footsteps marring your nation."

[Bitom]

The woman in the back chimes in at this point, automaticly filling in information that might seem obvious to those familiar with the white man's magic. "When the ghost dance was done, there were those that envied the Shamans for their new power. Some of them studied the changed ways of the world and developed spell formulas to be learned and memorized. Others took a quicker path and took their power directly from corruptive entities. Those that took this path often do so by gambling against their 'patron' spirit. These are called Hucksters, and are understandably good at the gambling art... their lives and souls depend on it."

[Trogdor]

"Could the black spirit that attacked our village be such a creature?" Raven asks. "One that's being controlled by this Russel Kane, or that got away from him?"