DrDog's Aces And Eights Tale
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A sea of blue and grey bodies encircles the Philadelphia fields. Confederate and Union soldiers alike lay on the ground, their bodies twisted in cruel and unnatural ways. Among the few souls left alive, were a group of Union soldiers. The Michigan Cavalry Brigade. Their mounts lay dead beside them. They did not speak. They did not move. They only stared at the city as it was devoured by a great beast. The 682nd.

Zachariah awoke with a start. He put a hand on his chest and found his shirt damp with sweat. The older man let out a sigh and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Orange light was streaming in through the windows. He judged it was either early morning or late afternoon. He couldn't hear anything other than hammering from outside, so he guessed it was early morning.

The older man got out of bed, stretched, and changed into a pair of clothes that weren't damp. He then grabbed an envelope from the end table. It was from his employer, a salary lender in Denver. Inside was a letter detailing his current task and a photo. He was to find a defaulter by the name Billy Carter, the man in the photograph, and collect his debt. Billy Carter was reportedly in the town of Lewis Junction, where Zachariah was currently renting a room.

He slipped the photo into his pocket and reread the contents of the letter, before grabbing his Stetson and Peacemaker, and heading into the hallway. The hat went on his head and the revolver went in his holster. The owner of the inn, a wide man with a large pair of mutton chops, was sitting behind the front desk reading a newspaper. Zachariah muttered a greeting to him as he walked out the front door.

Few people were out and about this early in the morning, but the few that were had already begun working. A man across the street was boarding up a shattered window in the front of his shop. A woman led a horse towards the stables. A newsboy was selling newspapers in front of the general store. Zachariah scratched at his beard and headed towards the saloon. It was likely that Billy had used spirits to take his mind off his debt, and if so, the barkeep would have seen him.

The saloon was in fairly good condition, he supposed it was probably recently built or renovated. He pushed open the doors and entered the building. The inside was sparsely decorated and barely lit. The few patrons scattered around the saloon paid him no mind as he walked up to the bar. The barkeep, a slender clean-shaven man, greeted him.

"Good morning sir, what can I getcha'?"

"I won't be drinking today, I was actually wondering if you've seen this man." Zachariah grabbed the photo from his pocket and held it up to the barkeep. "He goes by the name Billy Carter."

"Billy Carter huh?" The barkeep took a second to study the photo before pointing behind Zachariah. "I believe he's the man sneaking out the door behind you."

"What the?" He spun around to catch sight of a man pushing out the front doors. "Goddamnit!"

He shoved the photo back into his pocket and ran out the doors after Carter. The man had already mounted a horse by the time Zachariah had made it outside. The two men stared each other down. The younger man then reared his horse and took off down the street, nearly hitting a stagecoach. The older man got his Peacekeeper halfway out of his holster before thinking over the situation and putting the revolver back.

Zachariah instead opted to get the attention of a passerby.

"Is there anything out in that direction?" He asked her, pointing towards the direction Carter had ridden.

"S-some farms?" She replied confusedly.

"Anything else, anything that's abandoned?"

"There's an old sawmill I t-think."

"How far is it?"

"I d-don't know, a mile or two?"

He swore. Carter would be long gone by the time he could get there on foot. He cursed himself for not bringing a horse. The older man looked around for a quicker means of transport. Zachariah found it in a horse being led by the woman he had caught sight of earlier. After handing her a few bills and the promise of returning the horse, he was riding out towards the sawmill.

The Colorado sun was high in the sky by the time Zachariah reached what the sawmill. It was nothing more than a moderately-sized sheet metal building surrounded by the remains if what he guessed was once a bunkhouse and a storage shed. The older man dismounted his borrowed horse and hitched it to a fence post. He then walked up to the front of the main building and called out.

"Billy Carter!"

No one responded.

"I know you're in there Carter!"

There was only silence.

"You owe Monroe money, Carter!"

A single gunshot rang out from within the building.

"Carter? Carter!"

Zachariah let out a choice swear, before drawing his Peacemaker and running toward the building. A door blocked his way into the building, so he convinced it to open with a swift kick. He pointed his revolver inside and followed it through the doorway. The inside of the building was lit by a large hole in the roof where it had caved in. The older man caught sight of a body perched in a chair under the hole in the roof. He walked around to the front of the body and sighed.

It was Carter's body. The young man had shot himself.

The older man

Lying in the fire was a leather-bound book. Its was unaffected by the flames it sat in.


Something something Malo modified to fit in an old west setting. Probably following a soldier from the Michigan Brigade after the war. Malo is probably referred to as a Wolverine. The soldier is probably named Zachariah. He's probably a loan shark. He probably finds the book containing a Wolverine while collecting a debt.

Probably need to yell at Cimmerian and Nico for help.

Probably need to make all of these probably's certain at some point.

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