Dogs in God's Vineyard, Episode One: The Red Road

Bartender

The Bartender nodded and followed Patrick into the back room. Once the door was shut behind them, the tall man locked it behind them. Without warning, the Bartender grabbed Patrick roughly by his clothes, picked him up, and shoved the Dog against the wall.

"I don't know what you're doing here, son, and I don't care. All I know is, you're an idiot for coming to Red Road. Take my word for it; leave this town before you're killed. You'll thank me for it later."

The Bartender kept Patrick up on the wall for another second, before gently releasing him back to the floor. He walked away and began to pack things up around the room, as if nothing had happened.

You know, this guy wasn't making himself look exactly innocent when he threatened me, Patrick thought to himself as he began to unpack the items at the other side of the room. Patrick knew that he could easily have arrested the bartender for threatening him, but the tall man probably had a gun and there would be a firefight that may have resulted in the Irishman's only lead dead.

After he was finished, Patrick approached the door and announced, "I suppose I better get going. Mind moving out of the way, big guy?"

“Alright then.” Marcus said as he walked over to where Cain had told him to go. They were apart from each other, but by they weren’t that far apart. Marcus started to lift some debris off the ground, left parts of trains and wreckage.

“So you don’t smoke anymore? Means that you did smoke a while back, what made you quit?” he said loudly, enough for Cain to hear clearly.

Bartender

The Bartender gave a grunt and walked over to the door, unlocking it. Before he opened it the tall man turned to Patrick. "Son, do me a favor and don't tell William I talked to you. The wife and I are skipping town tonight, and I don't want to get...."

He trailed off. He continued a second later.

"Leave Red Road, if ya know what's good for you. This town ain't nothing but trouble, they've sure seen to that. If ya got the guts to stay here and stick around for the final outcome, don't say I didn't warn ya."

The Bartender opened the door, and walked back toward his bar. He said nothing more.

Cain

"When my daughter was born, I decided to quit. I'd seen the effect smoking has on people later in life, and I wanted to be around for her a long time. Not to mention my wife kept on nagging my about the bad habit until I quit." Cain briefly said, giving a short laugh. The memory of his wife brought a flash of pain to him, but the Dog ignored it and continued with his work. Maria wouldn't want her death to be distracting him from his job.

Cain shifted through the wreckage of the recently raided and abandoned waggon. He lifted up a torn off wheel, and discovered something.

"Well now, what have we here?" Cain muttered to himself.

Patrick nodded and left the bar, though he wasn't sure he could keep the information from the Pack Leader especially if the bartender was skipping town. He was obviously spooked about something or other.

He walked outside and headed for Cain. Not finding him outside the bar, he headed down the trail a little ways before finding him. He looked over at the wagon and asked, "Find anything?"

Looks like he has a wife and a kid, nice.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask about his family Cain said he found something and the question flew out of his mind. Marcus got up from his bent position, and headed toward Cain

“What do we got?” he asked as he approached the Pack Leader.

“Priests, then the present patrons, then we’ll head out and find all the deviants who decided they were to busy to go to church on this fine afternoon.” Dwight spared a glance back at her, his greens shimmering with dark excitement. The joking tone in his voice was difficult to miss, but something seemed to be lurking underneath the surface. “Who knows? If we’re lucky, someone will ask for a bullet through their head.” Every step he took kicked up thick red dust which clung to his boots and pants, although the dog paid it little mind.

“Now, Lara, I hope you aren’t opposed to some mindless violence if things happen to…” He chuckled for a moment. “…sour. I would hate to find myself alone in dealing out some swift, yet painful retribution to those who disrespect the Faith and our Book of Life.” Coming to a stop, he turned and faced her with a large smile on his face. “I ain’t asking ya to like me. I’m asking if you’ve got my back, if I’ve got yours. We got a deal, Ikannenh Lara?” He extended his hand to her, wondering slightly if she’d even take his hand.

Lara nodded to herself as he explained his method of approach. He seemed like he was on top of the situation. All the better, if he handled most of the work that could help avoid any confrontations the townsfolk might have with her. It was one thing for a white Dog to kill someone. Quite another for a Native Dog to do so.

As he continued on, her dark eyes took on a thoughtful look, and her frown softened ever so slightly. He spoke like a warrior, not one of the conceited Ojiba. Her frown deepened again.

This...man, he’s is the first that has ever not expected me to immediately like him and trust him. It is…strange. Ojiba do not act like this. Is this an act? Does he wan-

Her train of thought derailed itself as soon as he spoken his next words; her eyes widening in shock. Did he just call me Ikannenh..? How could he know that word? He used it in a way that means he knows what it means…

She swiftly regained her composure; though, it would take a very observant person to tell that she had been shocked in the first place. Her eyes flicked down to Dwight’s outstretched hand, up to his face, and back again. Making a snap decision she grabbed his forearm, her grip surprisingly strong, and spoke.

“We have a deal, Dwight.”

Cain

Cain held out the small object in his palmfor the other two Dogs to see. "Unless I'm mistaken, this thing here is an arrow-head. Hm, seems we've found some evidence of Mountain Folk involvement, all right. Patrick, mind helping me out over here? We might be able to find more beneath the wreckage." Cain said.

The older Dog stowed the small weapon into a pocket, and began shifting through the remains of the waggon once more.

Patrick nodded and bent down to shift through the wreckage. He grimaced, however, when he found a dead body. He shook his head. That was always an unpleasant surprise, though unavoidable when one was a Dog.

"The bartender was acting suspicious when I talked to him," he told Cain thoughtfully.

“Marvelous! Then let’s get this partnership on the road shall we?” With a tip of his hat, and a spin on his heel, Dwight marched quickly down the dusty street with purpose, his eyes focusing on the large bell tower of the chapel. With a solid push, the doors to the chapel swung wide, and the Dog gave the room a once over. Clearing his throat, his voice cut through the relative silence of the chapel. “Me and my fellow Dog would like to have a word with the Father of this Church, if he would be so kind as to present himself.”

His fingers drummed against the warm metal of his revolver, it’s handle exposed just enough for the people present to see it and know that the Dog meant business, and that he was not one to trifle with lightly. “And if everyone present would be so kind as to stay at the Chapel so that we may take the time to ask you all a few questions.” His smile did little to ease the sudden tension that had come to the building with his arrival.

Lara stepped up next to Dwight, casting a hard look over the occupants of the chapel. Her hand came up to rest on the handle of her own revolver. Thhey didn't know what sort of reaction their precense would cause, nor did they know who was armed, and with what. It would be in their best interest to be ready for anything.

The tension in here is palpable. We'll need to tread carefully, lest we cause a fight. She flexed the fingers of her free hand, her eyes constantly shifting about. She would be ready incase things went sour. Her eyes flicked over to her fellow dog. Of course, so will he.

Cain

"Was he?" Cain asked, still shifting through the wreckage. THe man frowned as he appeared to find nothing else. "Well, unless you two found anything, I think we're done here."

?

The occupants of the building froze as the two Dogs entered. After Dwight finished what he was saying, an older man slowly emerged from the others, walking toward them. Surprisingly, the man looked just like Steward Hyrum, except he had a small scar that ran down his left cheek.

"Welcome, my friends. I am Father Daniel. How may I help you today?" Daniel asked, giving them a pleasent smile. It momentarily faltered after seeing Lara, but he kept it plastered on his face.

"Okay. Where to, the Mountain People?" Patrick asked, frowning thoughtfully. There was still something to investigate in town, he was sure of it. Still, as long as they minded their manners, they wouldn't provoke the natives.

“Well there sure ain’t anything here.” Marcus said with his lovable high toned country accent after throwing some of the train’s remains. He turned and walked towards both of his newly made teammates. “Where did the other two left to?” Marcus asked.

Cain

"The Mountain Folk girl and Dwight went to ask some questions around town. We may as well join them, if--"

Cain would have continued, but an arrow landed just inches away from his foot. He heard the savage screams of Mountain Folk as more arrows descended upon the Dogs.

"Take cover!" Cain cried, ducking behind some wreckage. He fumbled with his pistol as he tried to find where the arrows were coming from.

"Shit!" Patrick cursed as he too ran behind the wreckage and took out his pistol, firing in the direction where the arrows came from. H knew that the screams were just a distraction, to scare and confuse the Mountain Folks' enemies.

"Where'd they come from?" he asked.

Surprised at the arrow that struck just a few inches near them, Marcus threw himself below some wreckage.

“What the hell?” He shouted angrily.

Hearing Patrick’s question he chuckled a bit.

“Well I’m guessing from the mountains!” He started laughing very hard at his own comment.

Marcus took out his Anaconda and took a quick peak at the direction in which the arrow came.
“Here we go gentlemen!” a loud shout before standing up and getting positioned; ready to make some kills.