Post
by Stormbringer » Tue Jun 03, 2025 9:57 am
The three riders walk their horses into the area just in front of the ranch and bring them to a stop, near the well.
You note the brass stars on their shirts. Their leader, obviously a sheriff, addresses you.
"Well, well, well...if it ain't old Stacob 'Cadaver Kid' Pains and Doc Artham 'Crusty Scrotum' Scotum. I've been trackin' you and your little gang down since you broke into the mayor's house. I should have known you'd have the nerve to show up here. Why, everybody else is it seems. Those Loudmouths just can't keep a secret now, can they?"
He looks over toward the burning stables.
"This here your's fine work, I assume?"
My fire is more than can be made with forests,
My state more base than are the basest valleys;
I wish no evenings more to see, each evening;
Shamed, I hate myself in sight of mountains,
And stop mine ears, lest I grow mad with music.