"Stories," you murmur, turning back to Maggie. "We all have them, don't we?"
Maggie nods, her eyes meeting yours again. "Indeed, we do. Some more thrilling than others, I suspect."
The bartender arrives with the drinks, setting them down with a knowing look. You both take a moment to sip in silence, the fireplace crackling in the background.
"So, what brings you to Saint Denis?" Maggie asks, sipping her drink. Her question is casual, but there's a sharpness to it that suggests she's more than just a mere photographer. You consider lying, but something about her makes you feel like you can trust her, or at least that she's someone who could be useful. "Looking for someone," you reply vaguely, hoping she doesn't press further.
Her gaze sharpens. "Ah, the classic tale of the wandering gunslinger. Who might that someone be?" You hesitate, then decide to give her a bit of the truth. "A man named Manic Tobin. Heard he's got connections to some trouble brewing in the area." Maggie's expression doesn't change, but you catch the flicker of recognition in her eyes. She nods slowly. "Tobin," she repeats, the name rolling off her tongue like a sour taste. "He's not someone you want to cross paths with." She pauses, then leans in closer. "But if you're looking for him, I might have some information that could help. For a price, of course."
You eye her skeptically. "What kind of price?"
Maggie, the photographer, suggests a trade for her information on Tobin the Manic. She proposes that you accompany her for six days as her bodyguard while she captures the the story of the wilderness through her camera lens. In exchange for your protection, she'll share her knowledge of where you might find the elusive character.
You look at Maggie with a raised eyebrow, considering her proposal. "Bodyguard duty, huh?" You take a moment to ponder the offer. Your gang is waiting for you to gather intel on Manic Tobin, but the chance to get information from a seemingly well-informed local is too good to pass up. "Alright," you say, extending your hand. "You got yourself a deal."
Maggie takes your hand in a firm grip, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She nods at your agreement and says, "Wonderful! I'll be ready to leave in an hour. Meet me at the Theodore Eckhart Stables. And don't forget your weapon; the Van horn area can be quite unpredictable." She finishes her drink and stands up, her elegant dress rustling as she does. She winks at you before sashaying out of the saloon, leaving you with the weight of your decision and the promise of a new adventure with an intriguing companion. The other patrons resume their conversations, some casting curious glances in your direction while others seemingly unaware of the deal you've just struck. The clock on the saloon wall ticks away, reminding you of the time constraint you're under to find Manic Tobin.
You use the time to gather your thoughts and prepare for the journey ahead. You head outside into the dusty streets of Saint Denis, where the setting sun casts long shadows across the buildings. The air is filled with the sounds of horseshoes clomping on cobblestone and distant laughter from the townsfolk. As you make your way to the Theodore Eckhart Stables, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety. This detour from the main mission could either be a stroke of luck or a costly distraction.
Once at the stables, you find Maggie already mounted on a sleek black horse, her camera slung over her shoulder. She's dressed in a more practical outfit for the journey—a tailored riding jacket, a sensible hat with a veil, and sturdy boots. She looks like she's ready to conquer the frontier. "Ready, Raven?" she calls out, her voice carrying over the din of the bustling stables.
You nod, swinging yourself up onto the saddle of your trusty steed. "As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, adjusting your hat and checking the ammo on your belt. The horse snorts and stamps its foot, sensing the tension in the air.
Maggie smiles and nudges her horse forward, leading the way out of the bustling city and towards the open countryside. "The Tip Brother is a peculiar fellow," she says over her shoulder. "Lives alone in a shack outside Van Horn"
You follow closely behind her, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble as the cityscape slowly gives way to rolling hills and sparse vegetation. "What's his story?" you ask, genuinely curious.
Maggie glances back at you, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "Ah, the Tip Brother. He's a bit of a local legend, really. Some say he's a hermit, others that he's a madman. Whispers in the saloons speak of treasures and lost souls, but nobody knows for sure." She pauses, looking ahead at the setting sun. "What I do know is that he's got an eerie way with animals, and he's not keen on company. Best to be on our guard."
Maggie continues the story of the Tip Brother as you both ride out of Saint Denis. "Some say he's just a pervert," she adds, raising an eyebrow. "Tales of travelers who've stumbled upon his shack and claimed to have seen things that would make even the most hardened outlaws blush. But as with any legend, it's hard to separate fact from fiction."
You chuckle, the tension in the air easing slightly. "Well, we're in for an interesting ride then," you reply, patting the butt of your horse gently. "But I'm guessing you don't believe in all those campfire stories?"
Maggie shrugs. "I prefer to capture reality through my lens, not fabricate it," she says with a wry smile. "But there's always a grain of truth in every legend, isn't there?"
As you and Maggie ride toward the town, the landscape changes from the bustling streets of Saint Denis to the serene countryside. The sun dips lower, casting a warm orange light over the rolling hills. You pass by a few travelers heading in the opposite direction, all of them giving you a wide berth. You feel the weight of your firearm at your side, a stark reminder of the life you've chosen.
As you and Maggie draw closer to Van Horn, she suggests that you both visit the local saloon to gather more information about the Tip Brother. She dismounts her horse and looks up at you expectantly. "Best place to start is the saloon. They say it's the heart of the town, and the whispers there might just hold the key to our story," she says, handing her reins to the stable boy. You follow suit, and together, you make your way into the bustling establishment. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of sweat, and the rowdy patrons barely glance up from their drinks as you enter. The bartender, a burly man with a handlebar mustache, nods in recognition as Maggie approaches. She leans against the bar, her camera resting on the countertop. "We're looking for someone," she says in a honeyed voice. "Goes by the name of Tip Brother."
The heavy man in the next chair looks over at Maggie and Raven with a furrowed brow. He's a local, easily identified by the stains on his shirt and the way he nurses his drink. "Why you looking for the Tip Brother?" he asks, his voice gruff and suspicious. His question hangs in the air like a challenge.
Maggie flashes a disarming smile. "Just looking to capture his story for posterity," she says, her voice as smooth as the whiskey sliding over the bar. "You know how it is, the more peculiar the tale, the better the photograph."
The heavy man leers at Maggie, his eyes glinting with something less than innocent intent. "Well, well, then," he says, his voice thick with a lecherous tone. "If you're looking for Tip Brother. Spend the night with me, and I might just tell you where to find him."
Without giving Maggie a chance to respond, you grab the nearest bottle from the bar and smash it over the heavy man's head. The sound of shattering glass echoes through the saloon as he slumps to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head. Before he can react, you throw a quick punch, and you see a tooth fly out, accompanied by a spurt of blood. The man grunts in pain and surprise, clutching his head.
The saloon erupts into chaos as the heavy man's friends jump to his aid, fists flying and chairs toppling. Raven, with their quick reflexes, manages to dodge a few blows and knock down one of the attackers. However, the fight quickly escalates, and you find yourself in the midst of a full-blown bar brawl. The bartender ducks behind the bar, the patrons either joining in or fleeing the scene. The sound of breaking furniture and grunts of pain fill the air. The heavy man you initially confronted stumbles to his feet, his eyes full of rage, and charges at you with a roar. You brace yourself for the inevitable fistfight, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
The heavy man and Raven begin to exchange punches in the middle of the saloon, knocking over tables and chairs. The other four attackers circle around you, waiting for an opening. They're rough-looking types, with scarred faces and the smell of sweat and desperation. You notice that the patrons who haven't already fled are placing bets on the outcome of the fight. The floor is slick with beer and the occasional trickle of blood as you dodge and weave, trying to keep your balance. Your heart races as you throw a punch, connecting with the heavy man's jaw and hearing a satisfying crunch. He stumbles back, but doesn't go down, indicating that he's a tough opponent.
Maggie, unfazed by the chaos, quickly snatches her camera and starts snapping pictures. "Keep it up, Raven! You're giving me some fantastic material!" she calls out over the din. Her voice is filled with excitement rather than fear, which only serves to bolster your confidence. Despite the danger, you can't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the absurdity of the situation—fighting for your life in a Wild West saloon over a rumor of a reclusive hermit.
The heavy man's friends close in, but you manage to keep them at bay with a few well-placed kicks and swings. Each blow you land feels like it's carrying the weight of your frustration and fear from the past few days. The reality of your situation in this game world is setting in, and you're determined not to let it overwhelm you.
Maggie continues to snap pictures, the flash from her camera briefly illuminating the chaos. You catch her eye, and she winks at you before turning her attention back to the fight. Her cheers and the sound of the camera shutter only spur you on, pushing aside any reservations you might have had about your newfound life as an outlaw.