Private Tombstones

[Elea Dorado]

THREE DAYS PRIOR...

“Today we mourn the death of Marshal Cliff Talbot. May he Rest In Peace…”

The citizens of Dakam Hill hadn't been expecting to break dirt here so soon. Hilltop cemetery now had its first occupant, a lonely grave marked with a wooden marker. The priest looked down at the canvas cloth that wrapped the body of Marshal Talbot... they didn't even have a proper undertaker or a chapel for that matter. It felt like they hadn't done quite enough, but it was the best they could do on such short notice. Folks removed their hats and bowed their heads...

And that’s when the solemn silence was broken.

Shots rang out, and the family and friends of Marshal Talbot were also laid to rest… The priest let out a startled yelp as the bodies fell, one by one.

“W-what have you done?” The lone survivor was the priest, he looked to the dark figure that set foot on holy ground.

“Just payin’ my respects is all,” said Colt Decker-- and leveled his pistol to the priest's forehead.

Elea Dorado had followed a trail of bodies here to Dakam Hill -- it had started, as far as she knew, in her home and paused here. Paused, because she had a feeling the trail wasn't gonna stop anytime soon. Her home was gone now, along with her husband and several of their hired hands. She'd dug the graves herself; pasture that was meant for livestock was now a graveyard. The widow didn't have much of a plan to speak of, but she wanted revenge.

Of course, she didn't know for sure if the men she was seeking were here. There were a number of different gangs 'round now. But, this particular group had a bad reputation... so she decided to start there. Needless to say, if she wiped them all out there'd only be thanks for it. Deep inside, her smoldering rage told her it didn't even matter if these were the men behind her husband's murder...

The sooner murderers were put to rest... the better.

Dakam Hill ought to have been a bustling place. But shutters were closed, and folks had watchful... fearful eyes. It was a town in mourning. After the loss of their marshal and a number of his loyal followers, things weren't looking good for the citizens. Colt Decker was the man in charge now -- a wild man with a penchant for booze, women, and gun fights. Elea'd never seen him in person, only his grainy image on the holo posters in a number of local inns. Yes, he was a wanted man... but there were few out this far to enforce the law. Few that wanted to go up against the quick-draw of his blaster pistol.

Elea considered herself one of those few.

As she walked, her eyes settled on the only building in town that seemed to have rowdy business... the cantina. Instead of going in, she chose to wait and leaned herself up against the wall next to the door.

Reuven Starburn

 

[Reuven Starburn]

The small, compact speeder bike puttered along the main road of town, kicking up a small amount of dust as it went. Its rider had on a leather jacket, a red scarf, and metal helmet, with a scruff that looked like it hadn’t been attended to in a week or so. He slowly looked to either side of the road, eyes squinting inquisitively, brow furrowed in suspicion.

There wasn’t anything about Reuven Starburn that clearly identified him as a ranger. He was dressed about the same as anyone else from around these parts - down to the large blaster on his thigh. Slowly coming to a stop outside of the cantina, Reuven stepped off, his watchful eyes scanning the area. Cantinas weren’t exactly his kind of place, but they tended to be the best place for information and getting a feel for happenings around town.

He made his way up the three steps to the porch area, the soft jingling of his boots sounding every time he took a step. There was a woman by the door. Pausing before he went in, his green eyes gave her a once-over. She had a blaster pistol by her waist, and an overall cold demeanor. Reuven briefly wondered if he'd find more of that inside.

Just a moment later, he stepped towards the door and it slid open, silhouetting him against the daylight outside.

Elea Dorado

 

[Elea Dorado]

Elea's narrowed eyes watched as a speeder bike rode into town. It was an odd sight to see coming down the dusty road, especially with the state of the town as it was. But, this place wasn't for sight-seers... anyone that came here probably had a reason, good or bad. As the man moved towards the cantina door, Elea stayed quiet and crossed her arms.

As he pushed the door open, she turned her head slightly to watch him go.

Craning her neck slightly, she spotted a rather haggard figure drinking alone at the bar. And a table full of men playing sabacc in the center of the room. From what she could tell, there were a few other patrons scattered about, but the card players seemed to be acting like they owned the place. "Another round, boys!" A mustached man, Buck Wilder, hollered and stood from his seat. He sauntered over to the bar and ordered shots of whiskey for everyone in the cantina, the wave of his hand included the newcomer that stood framed in the doorway.

"Don't be shy, now," he said, motioning for the stranger to come in. There were even empty chairs 'round the sabacc table if he wanted to join.

Turning his attention back to the lone drinker at the bar, he said, "How 'bout a drink to Colt Decker? Or should I say... Marshal Decker?"

The man at the bar shook his head.

"Why won't you drink, fella?" Buck pressured, looking 'round to the others.

Reuven Starburn

 

[Reuven Starburn]

Reuven quietly took in the scene, his head moving slightly as he scanned the area. His face betrayed no emotion - his brow was furrowed and his eyes narrowed, almost as though he was concentrating. As the man at the bar motioned for him to join, he gave the slightest hint of a nod as he stepped down and into the main area.

His hands were hooked into his belt as he walked - not towards the table, but towards the bar, to the left. As he passed the sabacc table, he sized up those who were seated - a mishmash of species, with a Zabrak, a Rodian, a Weequay, a Devaronian, and the rest human. His eyes glanced at the blasters they were packing, and where they were positioned around the table. He looked at their hands, and briefly tried to guess who was the fastest draw.

There was some fumbling of fingers as they handled the cards - they were inebriated.

Unfortunate. For them.

Lastly, he looked to the man at the center of attention - Buck Wilder. Reu’s gaze fixed on him as he made his way to the bar. He positioned himself at the corner, so he was facing the rowdy gang - and had just a touch of cover. Timidly, the bartender placed a shot glass in front of the newcomer. Wilder had ordered drinks for everyone, after all.

Reu’s fingers lightly picked up the glass… and then flipped it over and slapped it back onto the bar so quickly that the liquid had no time to escape. Some of the men at the sabacc table took notice, brows rising in curiosity and confusion.

“Maybe he doesn’t take too kindly to a gang of outlaws and thieves taking over his town,” Starburn spoke, casting a hard gaze at Wilder.

The room was silent. The men at the sabacc table were still, unsure of what to do. They looked to their leader - he’d give the cue whether to laugh at the stranger… or draw on him.

Elea Dorado