[Winter - Moonton]

After a bit of casual conversation, a fatigued Jennings led the group to discuss a more pressing topic in the shambled hut. He opened his mouth as he leaned back against the rubble crater he fell through. His hair a mess, with twigs still being shaken off after every-other sentiment.

“So Penny, you think it was The Immortal? The guy didn’t look like someone called The Immortal?”

Penny looked up from her feet at Jennings, but couldn’t offer a valuable retort, instead gesturing with confused and silent expression. She slows her pacing and delivers her response.

“I’m almost confident it was, no one else would want to, right?”

The birds chirped from within, as the nearby wildlife already began to reclaim the structure. Ollie looked around to find an outlet of humor, to no avail as J.J. responded.

“There’s a few people I could name: Phil Peters- junior and senior, Toothpick Jimmy, that tall lawman Poni and I outran in Mistmar, but as you can imagine it’s been a while since I’ve burned those bridges Ms. May”

A chill converged through the tattered shack and Penny, she covered her mouth.

“It’s true, it was him, and I…”

Penny’s personal gravity weighed her back, she buried her head further into her palms collapsing into tears. Ollie and Buck moved in her direction, coinciding with the wind. They offer short, sincere advice.

“Always something, right?”

“C’mon Penny, you know we always have less control than we think.”

The words landed on their mark, as Penny shriveled less but still slumped from her sorrow. Jennings looked down at her, realizing he could do little, he shifted his attention elsewhere.

“It sounds to me like a clock is ticking, that’s all. We’ve all felt it before in our lives, shit I’m pretty sure I felt something when I crashed through this ceiling off that helltrain. Damn wreckage here-”

He tapped the protruding wooden structures surrounding him.

“-probably saved me from meeting my maker.”

Buck left Ollie’s side and steered himself toward J.J. He garnered the outlaws attention as he was contemplating his thoughts, he fingered the outside brim of his removed hat as spoke with passion.

“Sir, Ms. Penny May ain’t been fully confident. She omitted some wisdom.”

Jennings raised his head to fully interpret his comment.

“How so?”

“You see, Miss May and I followed some kind of flame, Agi-spirit-thing, with legs.”

“Legs?!”

Penny wiped snot from her nose and interjected. Her hair, which she wore down often only worsened her messy manner. The tears stopped streaming just as she rose to her feet.

“Legs! A pair of them, you shoulda’ seen it J.J.”

The outlaw was a bit imprecise by the description.

“Maybe- I’m just a bit ole’ woozy, but you two followed an Ageast? Where?”

“No- thankfully, now that you mention it.”

Penny had somehow recomposed herself enough to already become relieved. She wiped her hair out of her face and proceeded.

“It was Agi, without a doubt, some fire magic. However, the creature was to my chest and consisted of fire. What got me was that it was as if the Ageast has a personality, if you will. I shit you not J.J., it felt like it was calling me to follow it, and guess what we found?”

“Alive, Penny? Are you telling me you think this short Ageast was alive in some way?”

“I mean, I don’t know about alive, or living, but who can really say?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Yeah, I did not feel that either. More, I think Miss May means it when she says this thing made an effort to get us to follow it. Whether that’s alive or not, I don’t know… but it took us right where we wanted to go.”

“That’s right J.J.! Buck and I found his compound! Can you believe it?”

Jennings suddenly felt a jolt of adrenaline. His pain dissipated for the moment, and he stood as if he was ready to rush out what was left of the door in full sprint, but thought better against it. The outlaw shook as he stood, tense with eagerness to raid a compound he’d just heard about second-hand.

“Ahh- shit. I’m too damn tired to kill him right now. Tell me about it then.”

[Winter - Gravelrot]

The room is dusty, as dirt travels along the breeze, carried between the walls of a dank room on the outskirts of town. Wooden furniture in this room was stained with mud beneath, while the surface was polished. Fitted in their finest professional clothes, the officers of the D.o.M. were a rowdy bunch, talking amongst each other with beers in hand. Drinks shift in their meaty palms, as documents litter the surface space as the room begins to fill quick.

Several hefty tables lay dormant, while the edge-most seats first. At first slower, but the merry bunch of hairy, gray-tinted men filed in and took their seats. Weathered faces, and awaiting instruction.

A woman dressed in a uniquely cut brown top that exposed their upper arms, accented in fluffy ruffled garments claps. In front, she led discussions formally.

"Alriiight, order. Order, I said, dammit!"

The group who was previously rowdy, deafened to a sit still. Chairs creaked, stools stiffened, coughs and murmurs were sporadic as she controlled the room.

"You know why this meeting was adjourned, right gentlemen?... Please say yes."

Some loyalists affirmed with half-heartedness.

"Y-yeah!"

“Yes!”

"The Department of Misconduct, the finest, most skillful gunmen in the Wild West, and this here is what we're stuck with… You know my brother, your Sheriff Haggard, ain’t gonna be pleased when he hears the bloody details of what went down. Did you guys let a train catch on fire and crash into a gulch?”

She looked around the room, yet the affirmation nor enthusiasm were existent. Irene Haggard, dressed in a green-checkered prairie blouse, underneath a brown vest. An exaggerated speaker, someone who talked close, with their hands and demanded respect before she’d earn it. She coughs into her fist, seeking to regain her composure.

“Look, I'm not your momma. Y'all better hatch a plan while you're sitting there on our payroll."

"It's- him..."

Someone in the room had the gumption. Head on a swivel, the woman scoured for the origin of the noise.

"Who?"

"J.J. Cool!" Yells someone obscured by the gathering.

She takes a second, inhales, before bursting into laughter. The men in the room looked around at each other, as she absorbed all the energy that remained in the room.

"You lot are all scared? I cannot believe it."

She scans their faces in anticipation of bravery. Muscles tighten, the men grip their beers, with the more intimate chasing their intimidation with a swig, followed by an audible gulp.

“You know Sheriff Haggard wants me to deputize the lot of y’all.”

The room perked its ears in a pack, straightening their posture. Men that were verbally defeated seconds ago, eager to regain lost posture.

“-Get you all in a posse and take care of whoever it was that’s making you look like corrupt goons because of this traits heist and escape of lil’ Lou Cooper. You know that last one’s gonna stir the masses more than the damn fire train!”

She palms her face in mockery. Her bracelets and charms hanging from her wrist appear to glimmer with red, and green pristine. She slides her opening hand down her face in an unattractive fashion, squishing her features. Some of the men frowned as they lay eyes on her.

"We got this Irene!"

A deep-voice reciprocated what Irene was percolating. A man in a gray suit joins her standing, his collar showing stains, sweating rocks in the tense conversation yet attempting to rile up the crowd.

“Yeah, we can just outnumber em’!” screamed another from the back of the room. They erupted, clinking drinks together and collectively with their bass-dense voices, pumped excitement into the room.

Irene sits back, smiling, posturing herself into a more comfortable position. She leans, crosses her legs and leans an elbow on a knee. The shadows casted by the progressing Sun casted a heinous sneer on her face.

Just before the drunk song and dance broke, Irene slams her crossed foot down to denote the end of her leisure. Dust kicked into a plume across the room, instigating a coughing fit amongst the D.o.M. officials.

“So what’s the plan? Impress me.”

The silence returns, until enough men have looked around at each other. They brush their beards and scratch their groins.

"We are confident that with Henry leading the way, justice will be served!" An official said, his tone firm.

Irene narrows her eyes at the predictable response, but forces a smile to keep the facade of unity.

"Good to hear. But let's not forget, when my brother has to get involved. People exhibit failure and die… On both sides.”

The room falls silent once more, as the weight of the situation sinks in. Irene’s smile drifts, she puffs out her chest.

“So let’s get going. First group, volunteer now and come with me, the rest take the night and report at Sun break.”

Her legs drop to the floor from her previous position, she stands straight.

“Just remember, if we fail, it won’t be just us that pays the price.”

The group rises and congregates toward the center of the room. They huddle around Irene, begin discussing their plans.

She returns to her initial seat. Sitting back with a smirk, she observes the chaos unfolding. She may not trust her men, but she knows how to use them to her advantage.