Paladin - Have Gun, Will Travel

[Grognardsw]

Edited posts #98-99 to reflect not going to San Marcos.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin surveyed the busy hall of the Gay Lady, from the developing drunkards to the winsome women. Ever observant for the faces of criminals whose wanted posters he had memorized four days ago at the rangers office. Or for locals he’s met recently like Temple Houston, Leon Robles, and other shooting contest contestants. Larry, Moe, Curley, Mr. Gao, the traitor Smith or Dickens. Hell, Virginia Cummins may have snuck in.

“I’ll buy the first round, why don’t you boys find us a table,” offered Paladin to his friends. He moseyed up to the bar, ease-dropping on conversations for rumors. He’d give a nod and knowing smile to any passing saloon girl.

Paladin tried to get in the spirit of Red Skelton. “Laughter is the best medicine, heh doc?”

“I know Gideon, Red may not be the best warm-up for woman-hungry cowboys.”

To Gideon’s longing “Jist mah type” about the feathered and rouged mistress of ceremonies, Paladin laughed and quipped: “If the big chief don’t want to smoke your peace pipe, she’ll have a squaw who will!”

Paladin recognized the more refined singing talent of the mademoiselle, even if the niceties were too subtle for the Austin crowd. Nursing the beer, he listened with pleasure. She reminded him of the French singer Blanche d'Antigny who he had seen in Boston.

“I’ll be right back. DT this next round is yours?” Paladin stepped away at the mademoiselle’s 15 minute break and sought out her dressing room. Along the way he procured a large glass of water (and if there was a vase of flowers about, grab that.)

At her door, he courteously knocked and said: “Mademoiselle, flowers reflecting your beauty and water to sooth an angel’s throat.”

If the door remained closed: “Of course, you are occupied changing. I will leave them at your door and return after.”

If the door opened… we’ll see…

Initial observation roll walking in: Observation 13 [1d20]=17

Which I suppose does not preclude any such people from being there.

Flower Luck (9) [1d20]=10
No, so forgoing Observation

Stature (11) Door Open [1d20]=1

Before the Stature to Impress roll, I would posit it’s better to let a player role play to results instead of resorting to dice for certain purely flavor situations. Or adding modifiers for such play to a roll.

Based on the stature roll of 1 for the door opening… The Mademoiselle was unnamed, so perhaps her name is Elise Baronet …?



As the door opened Paladin saw the mademoiselle Elise Baronet. He smiled, took off his hat and gave the slightest of bows as he said: "Mademoiselle Baronet, my name is Paladin and I simply wished to give you my highest compliments on your performance, and offer this glass of water should you need it. In the backwaters of America, your talent and beauty shine. I look forward to hearing more. Perhaps afterwards I can offer you some Texas hospitality?"

[jemmus]

The chanteuse smiles her rather sad but very pretty smile at Paladin. Thank you, sir, she says with her French accent. I had heard that the men of Texas are chivalrous. But I didn't know they were so thoughtful of a poor singer's throat as well. She takes the glass of water. Perhaps you will come see me... my performance, I mean, again tomorrow. She gives Paladin a rather sweet look and closes the door.

That night when Paladin returns to the Drover Hotel, there is an urgent wire: Paladin, if you still love me, I need your help desperately. XO Betty

[Grognardsw]

‘I'll look forward to it,” replied Paladin to Elise.

Paladin took a circuitous route back to his seat, looking and listening for anything of interest. Observation 13 [1d20]=13

He stopped at the bar for a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He watched the second half of the mademesoille’s performance. Afterwards, he went backstage to her dressing room.

“Ms. Baronet, this is Paladin. A lovely finish to an enchanting night. I’ve brought you some wine to celebrate.”. Luck 9 [1d20]=10 Stature 11 [1d20]=14 Modifiers?

[jemmus]

Paladin looks around the Gay Lady for anyone he has met in Texas so far-- the fellow shooters at the contest, Temple Houston, the Wells Fargo staff, even city marshals, Texas Rangers, and trail judges and members of the juries. Even Virginia McCollum. Even Darryl McCollum, searching for Virginia. Even Christian Cummins-- you never know what anyone's taste might be. He doesn't spot a familiar face, including Robles, the most likely character he'd expect to see here.

Mme. Elise opens the door and smiles. Well, Mr. Paladin! I didn't expect to see again you so soon. And you've brought wine! I mean no offense, but... how do you say... I have no appetite for American beer, and I cannot even swallow corn whiskey. Please come in and have a seat. She gestures to an upholstered chair in the small wooden room with a dressing table with three coal oil lamp on it, an oval mirror on the wall with two lamps beside it, a large wardrobe, and another upholstered chair. Which she smoothly glides to and daintily takes a seat upon. Paladin notes that there was just a hint of delicate show in that move. There might be some cause for hope(?)

Mme. Elise continues, Mr. Paladin, please.... pardon this drab little room. It's a girl's dressing room, it's not a parlor for welcoming guests. But it is impossible to have a quiet conver-sa-si-ohn in the performance room. It's just a barroom, and full of savages. They are lonely, hard-working men, I know. I comprehend, from my heart. But with all of the shouting, singing, stomping of boots, and discharging of guns, it is impossible to converse more than beyond three words at time. Do you perchance speak French, Mr. Paladin?

There's a rap at the door. Elise starts and sits bolt upright in her chair. A loud male voice with a New York accent says, Lisa, are you decent? We got to talk about the contract. That Gay Lady woman is trying to pull a fast one.... The door swings open and Elise's eyes widen with fear, her hands rise to her mouth, and she turns away in her chair, shrinking. In the doorway is a giant of a man in a yellowish-tan striped suit and black bowler. His eyes widen, his jaw drops and a quarter of a wet smoldering cigar hits the floor. The big man's face turn red white rage, and his thick fingers turn tighten into fists the size of young cabbages. He enters the room and strides toward seated Paladin.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin nodded as Ms. Baronet explained her dislike for American wine and the dressing room.

“Yes, a far cry from Paris I’m sure,” he consoled.

The knock almost startled Paladin as well. He raised an eyebrow at the name “Lisa,” the possibility of a charade dawning on him, and almost started to laugh if it weren’t for the angry giant of a man in the doorway.

“Good evening, I was just telling Ms. Baronet how much we enjoyed her - -“

The big man’s eyes widen, his jaw drops and a quarter of a wet smoldering cigar hits the floor.

“You dropped your cigar - -“

The big man's fingers tighten into fists …and strode toward the seated Paladin.

“Hold your horses!”

As the man lunged at him, Paladin rolled to the left, taking the chair with him, using it like a lion tamer does to ward back an angry lion.

Initiative? Not sure if we’re technically in combat.

[jemmus]

Just to clarify, Elise said she didn't like American beer. She didn't insult Paladin's wine gift.

The man sees the chair and stops and gets a partial grip on his temper. Paladin can see that he's thinking of the possible repercussions of brawl in this little room. Broken furniture, a torn suit, possibly ending up as in a Texas jail, lost revenues, etc., Paladin imagines. What're you doing here in the lady's dressing room, buster? he says. Trying take advantage of Miss Baronet? Got some dirty thoughts in your head? I'll knock 'em right out of it if ya wanna step outside! If you're man enough to. Or are ya too yellow? Are ya?

Elise says in a little voice with her Gaulic accent, He didn't do anything, Mr. Harwood. We were just conversing.

Paladin doesn't see a holster below the man's suit coat, and he's wearing shoes, not boots. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have a pistol at his waistband.

[Grognardsw]

“I was only giving Ms. Baronet a gift of wine and conversation,” replied Paladin, side stepping to the door with the chair still in his hands. “Nothing to get worked up about.”

Paladin weighed whether there was any value in taking this outside for some brawling. No, there wasn’t, and his manhood didn’t need Mr. Harwood’s approval. Ms. Baronet would hardly be free this evening.

As he reached the door, Paladin stepped out still facing him and put the chair in the doorway. “Good night Ms. Baronet.”

[jemmus]

Elise replies, Good night, Mr. Paladin, and thank you for the gift. I'll be performing here for another six night. If you care to come again, it will be my pleasure to make sure you hear a new song every night. I'll save the special and sweetest one for last. She looks Paladin in the eyes with an inviting-- and forthright and unblinking-- gaze that says at least 100 words.

The big man scoffs and approaches the doorway to block the Paladin's view of the chanteuse. He stands half a head taller than Paladin-- and Paladin isn't a small man. And if I find ya in the lady's dressing room again, it will be my pleasure to knock that smug look right down yer kisser. Ya want to talk to Miss Lisa, ya talk ta me first. And ya leave the door open while yer doing it. We can't have every damn Texan shitkickin cowboy who wants to talk to a pretty lady stomping into her room. Ya got it? Good. Private show's over-- now get outa here! He slams the door in Paladin's face. The sound of few heavy but crisp steps across the floor in the dressing room can be heard. Then the muffled voices of the man and the singer.

[Grognardsw]

With a sigh, Paladin walked back into the music hall.

“You can’t win ‘em all,” he said to Gideon as the Gay Lady dancers came on stage.

Afterward, Paladin looked at the gambling tables.

“Shall we try a hand or two?” he asked Gideon.

[jemmus]

Gideon replies, Normally I'd be up fer dancing ladies or cards, and especially both at the same time, anytime day er night. But I might git inta a good run end up stayin late, er gittin into trouble when tha belles git these boys all excitable. Got a big day tomorra ridin on the murderin stage robbers. I better turn in.

Now, I suppose ya don't need no advice on playin cards, Mr. Paladin. But if it was me, here's whut ah'd be considerin. If ah sit at the table with mah back to the stage, chances are the other players who can see it are goin to be distracted by them dainty ankles flyin around. In that case, ah'd do mah dealin and bettin at a quick pace, ta keep tha game going at a fast momentum. And ah'd make some big bets at first, fer show. So yer opponents got to deal with big drama happenin at the table and on the stage, at the same time.

Another option is to take a chair facin the stage, play at a easygoin pace, and enjoy the show. Ya might lose a little money, but whut the heck. Ya only live once.

In case I didn't make it clear before, there are two shows at the Gay Lady tonight, the second one starting at 9:00. Anybody who wants to stay for the second show has to pay again. So their may be some traffic with people leaving and new people coming in around 9:00.

[Grognardsw]

“That’s sound advice Gideon,” said Paladin. “I almost forgot about the 9:00 show. I don’t want to have to pay again for that, so I’ll just slip in a game or two and use the 9:00 show fee as an excuse to step out.”

Paladin lit up a cigar. “Unless Lady Luck graces me and I’m on a streak. But I’m not a professional gambler, so that’s unlikely.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast than.”

Paladin studied the poker tables, looking for one open that was positioned as described by Gideon. He looked for one that had players who didn’t look like gambler types, if such a profile could exist.

“Evening all, you open for another player?” He took a seat with the stage behind him, again per Gideon’s advice.

[jemmus]

Paladin sees some tables playing faro, the most popular gambling game in the West. But even with its complicated card-counting board and contraptions for blind dealing of cards, the players seem to be playing pretty casually. The paid two dollars to see a show, and seeing the show seems to be their main focus. The card game may just be a habit from being what you do in a bar with drinks with other people. He spots another table playing poker, a less complex game, with players paying about the same level of attention. To his query, the current dealer replies, Sure, grab a chair, mister. Table rules: ante is 15 centse. Raisin limit's a quarter dollar. Paladin slides one from another table, easily into his desired slot with his back to the stage. The other four player have their chairs squeezed together into almost a semi-circle facing the real action on the stage.

Paladin surveys the table. The dealer shuffling the cards looks to be a cattleman, and a fairly successful one. He's a little pink of face, he's rotund, and he inhales and exhales with a slow, huffing pace. A plump waitress with a tray starts to pass by but he stops her and says, Whoa, Nellie! Hold on there! I got a car in that train! He holds up his glass and she pours whiskey from a bottle labled George Dickle-- Tennessee Sour Mash Bourbon and drops ice cubes into the glass. The man puts two dimes on the woman's tray and she gives him a little curtsy. He replies

To the man's left is a fellow in his 30s who appears to be a ranch hand. And to that man's left and next to Paladin is what appears to be a businessman, but from his Western attire in a business somehow involved with cattle or horses. The player to Paladin's left is a cowboy with a glass and a half-empty bottle of Iron Front Saloon corn mash bourbon whiskey at hand. He looks he's got at least one sheet to the wind.

The rancher says, Ante up. He pitches 15 cents into the pot. The other players do the same. The rancher deals each player five cards, clockwise around the table. The ranch to his left looks at his cards and says, Raise, 20 cents. He throws a dime and two nickels into the pot. The businessman says, Call and pitches in two dimes.

Paladin's up to call, raise or fold.

Clarification on BH poker gameplay
The dealer announces the ante amount (1 cent to 25 cents).
PC rolls 1d20 and doesn't announce the result. NPCs do the the same.
Play goes clockwise around the table, each player "staying" and not betting more than their ante or "raising" the table's bet by up to a quarter. The next players have the options of:
-"Call" or "Match" (staying in and pitching in a coin to match the new bet, if there is one);
-"Stay" (staying in the game based on their initial ante, if no one raised the bet);
-"Raise" (raise the table's bet from the initial ante, or from the previous player(s)' raise(s)); or
-"Fold" (drop out of the betting and forfeit one's ante and anything pitched into the pot later).

So, there's just one Gambling die roll, then some rounds of betting. Wise PCs and NPCs might include an Observation roll with it, in case someone might be tempted to cheat. And then, there are the rounds of betting on one's hand. The rules don't account for bluffing and psyching out other players about one's confidence in the strength of one's hand. So that they fold and get out rather than risking coins put into the pot.

(Just basic rules of poker, but with d20s instead of cards. Posting to be clear before Paladin's first hand).

[Grognardsw]

Paladin tipped his hat to the table as he sat down. He was relieved the players didn’t look like card sharks, but one couldn’t be sure. Paladin put in his .15 cent ante.

“Nice views,” he commented with a wink, taking an over-the-shoulder gander at the Gay Ladies. “They’re so gay.”

Paladin looked at his cards, hid his disappointment, and considered his hand. He glanced around at the eyes of the other players, trying to gain any insight, and noted placement of hands and shirt cuffs in case any cheating was going on. Observation 13 [1d20]=15

“Fold.”

[jemmus]

The cattle or horse business-styled businessman to Paladin's left calls and puts 20 cents into the pot. The drunk cowboy says, Call and raise 20 cents. The dealer replies, 40 cents bet, that's pretty rich for me. But ta make it interestin, I'll raise two bits. He puts 65 cents into the pot.

The bet is back to the ranch hand, who had one eye on the show and one on the game. He thinks a little and says, Call. He puts 45 more cents into the pot. Paladin is out, so the betting goes to the businessman. Y'all must be pretty proud of them hands. Fold. He turns to the show. What the hell, I'll raise a dime. The rancher dealer calls and pitches in a dime. The ranch hand says, Cain't git off a buckin horse until it throws you. Call. He tosses into the pot and lays down his hand. Four of a kind, nines. The cowboy lays down his hand. Y'all ain't gonna believe this. Four of a kind, nines too. Looks like we're splittin the pot. Unless ya want ta cut cards for it. The rancher says, Hold yer horses cowboy. He lays down his cards. A straight flush, diamonds, three to seven. Luckiest hand I ever had. They gay ladies must've brought me luck. The ranch hand, businessman, and cowboy can hardly believe their eyes. The ranch hand and businessman look him with disbelief, and maybe some suspicious sizing up. The drunken cowboy kind snorts a laugh, then turns his full attention to the action on the stage.

The rancher rakes in the cash while eyeing the stage. Paladin guesses there might be around $2.50 in coins in it. Not bad earnings for a quarter hour's effort in the Gay Lady.

Not going to show the rolls, so as not to "tip the hand" on the gamblers' actions. I'll just say that they had good rolls, and one or more had a Gambling roll success. And they had some penalties for divided attention between the table and the stage. Paladin didn't detect any cheating from his failed Observation roll, of course.

We can do another hand at the Gay Lady or move on, Paladin's call.

[Grognardsw]

“I’ll try another hand,” said Paladin, throwing in his .15 cents.

With a hand worse than the last, Paladin folded.

‘Good night gentlemen.’

The dice roller continues its statistically flawed performance With drinks and gambling, what is total spend for the night?

[jemmus]

Admission - $2
Beer - 5 cents per glass
Whiskey - 10 cents per shot
Wine bottle - $1.25 - $1.75, depending on the quality
Gambling - 30 cents

The men tip their hats to Paladin and resume dividing the attention between their cards and the stage. Paladin steps out the raucous Gay Lady and into the street and the clear moonlit night. He walks the short way to the Drover, going past a shed, O'Reilly's Cafe, and an assay office. He encounters no one in the hotel's lobby except the desk clerk and a bell hop, both of whom are reading what appear to be cheap novels. The night in his room passes without event.

In the morning he has breakfast with Andreas, Doos, DT, Gideon and William.

Any plans for the day? We can fast forward to picking up the holster and revolver, or Paladin can do something else in Austin.

[Grognardsw]

$3.95 then total to be deducted.

…We can fast forward to picking up the holster and revolver, or Paladin can do something else in Austin.

Yes, I’ll do that as part of the following post…

Back at the Drover Hotel, Paladin received the telegram.

That night when Paladin returns to the Drover Hotel, there is an urgent wire: Paladin, if you still love me, I need your help desperately. XO Betty

Betty in trouble again. Paladin felt a knot of worry in his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to do the Wells Fargo job. But William, Doos, Andreas, Gideon and doc would be able to handle it.

At breakfast the next morning, he announced his change of plans.

“Boys, I’m sorry to have to do this, but I have an emergency and have to go to San Francisco. I’ll return Wells Fargo’s money. Good luck.”

After breakfast, Paladin checked his mail in case any of the business prospects he had queried may have replied. (If so, can role play out.)

Next, he sent a wire to Betty: “On my way to SF. Stay safe.”

Paladin picked up his holster and gun from the leathermaker, sold back the extra pistol he had bought, returned the Well Fargo advance, inquired with the train companies if they needed any guards going west…

June 8, 1873
The newspaper… There are also advertisements for various kinds of employment: train guards…

… and if necessary purchased train ticket to San Francisco, and was on his way.

[jemmus]

It's Sunday, so Paladin can't check the post office for a reply to his letter to the Bexar County Cattlemen's Association regarding the bounty for rustler "King" Fisher.
He checks the morning Austin Statesman's announcements section at the Drover. The same postings for rewards for putting to end the activities of certain scofflaws are there. As is the Waco & Northwest ad for train guards, $2 per day. There's a new ad for train guards posted by the Washington County Rail Road, and at $2.55 per day. That name rings a bell with Paladin. It's the railroad of Josiah Caine: the man who all evidence points to having sabotaged Christian Cummins's Waco & NW's construction toward Fredericksburg.

Paladin knows that Waco's to the north, toward Dallas. Where connection to rail to Arkansas to the east, and then to the north, and then across the prairie and western mountain ranges are. No rail lines run directly north from Dallas. Because that's across the Red River-- the Indian Territory. Where the Seven Civilized Tribes, and a lot of the other ones, are supposed to stay on their reservations and quietly farm. And where there are no counties, courts or sheriffs to get in the way a freedom-loving outlaws way of life.Washington County is to the southeast, outside of Houston. Not the direction he's going on his way to San Fran. But a visit to New Orleans while he's in the area could be interesting. And travel up the Mississippi by riverboat to a railhead would likely be a fair bit more pleasant than clattering along in coaches over miles and miles dusty plains and rough mountainous terrain.

Paladin's brief telegram sent to Betty across half a continent cost $2.78.

Per RPG tradition, selling back an item is at half the book price. So $20 buying price for the fast draw pistol.

Per the house rules, fare for train travel is 4 cents per mile. Google Map says that, by car, San Francisco is over 1,700 miles from Austin. But the 1873 roundabout route with many connections would (conservatively) add 500 miles to that. That comes to $88, not including meals and hotels. Three cheap meals per day would be 75 cents total. A sleazy hotel 25 cents, an average one 75. If Paladin could make 150 miles per day (traveling 10 hours per day), that would come to 14.7 days. Let's say 20 days, to account for layovers, breakdowns, Indians tearing up tracks and burning bridges, and other delays. So $88 for fares and a minimum of $20 for expenses equals $108 total.

Paladin may be able to get train guard jobs all along the way. Depending on the local railroad and location, that might be fairly automatic. In other places, a Stature roll (followed by a Luck roll if it fails) would be needed. Either way, situations will probably come up that require his services, or provide an opportunity to earn some cash, or both.

[Grognardsw]

As Paladin tallied the costs he thought maybe he should produce new business cards: “Have Gun - Will Hobo.“

The gun fighter pondered his options.