Austin Shooting Contest - Rifles Event

[jemmus]

Rifles Event
The judge says, The rifles competition will now commence. First up is Mr. Temple Houston, Esquire. Mr. Houston, please take your position and fire five shots.
Houston steps up, exhales lightly, and fires five shots with an 1873 lever action Winchester rifle. The judge says, Five bullseyes, 15 points.
16
12
12
10
11

Mr. Dingle, please come up to the line and take your shots. The Englishman calmly fires five times with an 1873 Winchester, his face registering some dissatisfaction with the third shot. The judge announces, Four bullseyes, one hit on target. 13 points.
1
9
18
11
7

Mr. Jesse Vasquez, please approach and fire. A Tejano man with who looks to be 100% cattle, ranch, and horses lifts his hat to his fellow competitors and comes to the line. He stands and shoots, looking as if he would be more comfortable shooting from the back of a moving horse. Three bullseyes, one hit, 10 points, the judge says. Mr. Chester Fain, please take position and fire.

Fain approaches the taut rope of the line at a relaxed pace. He appears to be an old cowboy or horse wrangler, as tough as nails, and with crow's feet around eyes that are in a permanent squint from years under the hot Sun and blowing prairie winds. He carries a Spencer lever action repeating rifle, an old .52 caliber thing that feeds cartridges to the chamber through a spring-loaded pathway bored through butt stock. It's a model that everyone knows well. Until this year's new Winchester, it was what about everyone carried, if they could afford one. The rest carried single-shot Sharps from the War days. Fain takes his shots. On the first pull the hammer falls on a dud round. It takes the man some time and a clasp knife to extract the cartridge. A judge notes the seconds hand's position on his watch. Fain squints and fires four clean shots. The judge with the watch nods and closes its cover. The three judges go to examine the paper target. Two clear bullseyes, two shots cut into the black. Four bulleyes, 12 points.
20 - Dud, Luck roll failed. Miss.
3
9
18
18

Mr. Andrew Clay, please take your shots on target. There's a pause, and no one responds. The no-nonsense shooting and firearms man judge says again, at the same level of voice. Mr. Andrew Clay, please take your shots on target. Still no response. The crowd members start looking around. Mr. Andrew Clay, please appear to take yer shots or forfeit yer entry fee. The mounted cowboy spectator lets out a low whistle and points to his right. I think I see him. He found a buffalo wallow by the horse trough and was a taking a dirt bath. A huge man head and shoulders above the crown approaches, buffalo hide coat around him and long buffalo rifle in hand. He looks at the cowboy and says with the accent of a mountain Arkansan, Keep on talkin, goatroper, if ya want to. Be more fun finishin you than shootin in this ole fish in a barrel contest. The cowboy casts a cold eye at the big man and answers, Any time, buddy. Name the time and the place. Ya ignorant mule-skinnin, hides-stackin, long-range buffalo sniper.

The big man spits and pushes his way through the crowd and up to the line. The usual smell of unwashed Texas human bodies is about triple. It's interlaced with a strong afterscent of poorly tanned buffalo hide. The judge says, Reminder: Five shots within one minute.

Clay takes a step forward and towers over the judge. Don't ya think I hotblain heard what ye said? Do ya think I'm ignert? Huh He opens his heavy coat worn in early June to reveal a long and broad Bowie knife. He smiles a broad grin. The no-nonsense judge isn't having any of it. Shoot if ya want, don't shoot if ya don't want to. Ya got maybe four-five seconds left to take yer first shot. Clay growls as he hurries to the line, aims and fires with a huge resounding report. A judge marks the second hand’s time on his watch. The big man quickly pulls a shell out of the big bore breach, puts a bullet in and fires. At the end of five shots, the judge with the watch nods to the lead one. Within one minute. The lead judge announces, Three bullseyes, 9 points. The man in the buffalo hair coat strides off into the crowd, bumpin the judge as he goes.
18
19
4
1
3

William and Paladin take their shots. Moore, five bullseyes, 15 points. Paladin, five bullseyes, 15 points.

Wm.
2
8
14
6
2

P.
1
4
10
3
10

Mr. Houston, Dr. Crockett, Mr. William and Mr. Paladin are tied with 15 points each. Tiebreaker round needed. The target will be moved to 150 yards.
Long range (-2) for a rifle or a carbine. So a total of -4 to hit the target and -6 to hit the bullseye.

The buffalo hunter's voice is heard. Alright, ya little goat roper, what do ya want? Fists and boots? Or knives? The city marshal's office officer at the shooting line yells, Hey! Hold it there, y'all! Hold it! He pulls a whistle from his jacket pocket and blows it loud. A couple of whistles out at the edges of the crowd also blow. The policeman pulls out his revolver, pulls the hammer back, and hustles toward the scene. The crowd around the hunter and the horseback cowboy starts to back away or turn and hustle away, according to each man's pride and/or temperament. The lead judge raises his hand and says, Temporary hold on the event. Then, for the first time, almost humanly and even chattily, No use doin anything until this little ruckus is over. Anybody with any sense or concern fer life er limb will have their attention on it, not the shootin.

TBC shortly.

[jemmus]

The mounted cowboy replies to the hunter, I don't suppose I favor either of those options much. He backs his horse up a few steps and the hunter draws his big skinning knife from his coat and starts to advance. The cowpoke spins the loop of a lasso over his head and neatly drops it over the hunter's upper arm. Let's go, Prancer!
We got to get this big ole steer out ta pasture! He puts spurs to his horse and the big man is jerked off of his feet and dragged down the street. He bellows and struggles to free his arms, but it's no use. The rider, horse and towed man continue on toward the city limits until they're out of sight.

Somebody says, I wonder what's gonna happen when they stop. Somebody else says, I guess that cowboy can't never stop, unless he wants to face that fella's pigsticker. The city police men look at each other. The one from the firing line says, Mount up! We got to catch them boys! The coppers run for their horses.

The lead judge says, Alright, rifles event, tiebreaker round. Five shots each. Mr. Moore, please step to the firing line.

Please post your PCs' rolls. Houston's rolls are coming.

[Thumper]

DT looks at Liz and says, “Wisdom in your behavior ma’am. DT Crocket, Medical Doctor. If you ever have a need for medical services on your ranch or in your neighborhood, I make rural calls.”

——————

DT watches the cowboy’s response with admiration. Those around him hear him cheer, “Ride on cowboy! There’s no way that smelly oaf holds onto the knife. That cowboy’ll unloose him out somewhere once he’s good and mangled. Hope he don’t kill him though.”

He looks again at the range target and say’s to William, “I don’t think a carbine or rifle makes much difference at this difference. I’ll shoot my own. Thanks though!”

He raises his Spencer .56 Lever Action carbine.

Rifle (17) Tiebreak: [1d20]=20, [1d20]=1, [1d20]=14, [1d20]=3, [1d20]=1

First shot’s a dud. He works the action to eject it, inhales then lets it out to hold good respiratory control then fires 4 times. He squints down the range and knows one was not a good shot. He raises his hat and gives a smile to the judge then the crowd that does not touch his eyes.

[jemmus]

The lead judge says, This is embarrassing, I apologize to everyone, and Mr. Crockett in particular. We ruled he had five bullseyes in the first round. But on closer inspection, the fifth bullet did not cut the black of the bulleye. So four bullseyes, one hit on target, 13 points. Mr. Crockett did not advance to the tiebreaker round. No score for the shots. We sure do apologize for the mistake, Mr. Crockett. Somebody among the spectators hollers out, Y'all can buy him a shot a whiskey to go with that beer Leon Robles is buyin him! Another calls out, And a daince with one a them purty daince hall gals! Those come at five dollars a lick!

The lead judge says, Mr. Houston, please take yer shots. Houston steps to the line with his Winchester and takes five shots. With the last one, the hammer again falls on a dud round for him. Four bullseyes, 12 points, the judge announces. If Houston is disappointed, he doesn't show it. He touches his fingers to his brim to Paladin and William and steps back to observe their shooting.
[1d20]=10[1d20]=8[1d20]=6[1d20]=13[1d20]=20
Misfire [1d20]=11 Luck [1d20]=18

DT looks over the crowd and notices a boy of around 13 years old standing not far from the lady and gentleman and the lady's single sister. He's holding his left arm kind of strangely, awkwardly away from his body. When DT asks him about it, he says, I got a boil in my armpit, mister. I'll pulled a bloated tick off a there yesterday morning. I might've pulled it off wrong and the broke the jaws off and under the skin. The boil started comin up last evenin, and it got real big overnight. Both of the ladies make revolted eww faces and shuffle a step away.

William and Paladin are up. And by the way, a dance with a dance hall girl did cost $5. A sixth of a cowboy's average monthly pay.

[Thumper]

DT:

Well, it’s quite obvious that I have been outclassed by finer shooters from the beginning.

And he steps aside tipping his hat to the other shooters.

I must apologize. I thought I had a hit instead of a bullseye on the first round which is why I wrote about telling William that DT left it wide open for him. When you later said it was all bulls and again to shoot in the runoff, I assumed I had misread. I should have asked for clarification in stead of assuming.

————
DT looks up at the two ladies, and thinks to himself “yup, sissified city slickers. Wouldn’t be able to take care of themselves in the open outside of a park”. He tells the kid he’s a doctor and would be happy to take care of that boil and make sure that doesn’t get any worse. When this is over, why don’t you take me to your folks so we can ask their permission to treat.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin returned the nod to DT and then stepped to the line. He aimed and fired his rifle shots.

Rifle (19) contest tie breaker [1d20]=4, [1d20]=12, [1d20]=16, [1d20]=8, [1d20]=4

[jemmus]

No need to apologize, it was completely my fault.

[jemmus]

Four bullseyes, the judge says. Twelve points for Mr. Paladin. Tied with Mr. Houston. Mr. Moore, please take yer shots.

[redwarrior]

thanks for the nudge, I did miss the thead

William nods to Paladin and Mr Houston, steadies himself, takes careful aim, and lets fly his second 5 shots.
As he steps off the line, he smiles again and says, At least we gave the crowd their money's worth!

Rifle competition tiebreaker target 18 [_5 d20]=(8+3+16+19+10)=56
I think that's 2 misses, need to get me some skill in Rifle...

[jemmus]

The judge announces, Three bullseyes, 9 points. Moore takes third place for the event. Paladin and Houston will shoot for first and second. The target will be moved to 400 yards.
Extreme range, -5. So -7 to hit the Small general target, -9 for the Very Small bullseye.

Houston steps up to line, levels his rifle, then raises the muzzle slightly. He fires his five shots, each time doing the same. He turns and walks back to join the loose group of observing competitors. Cattleman Jesse Vasquez says, That was some shootin at far range, Mr. Houston. I believe I heard four hits on the backboard. Houston replies, If so, it was just about blind luck. I could hardly see the target at that range, much less the bullseye. The three judges go down range to examine the target.
[1d20]=10[1d20]=11[1d20]=15[1d20]=11[1d20]=7

Two shots cut into the black of the bullseye, two shots full in the black. Four bullseyes, 12 points. There's some applause and whistles of impressed appreciation from the spectators. Gideon says, I don't know if ya play cards er not, Mr. Houston. But if ya do, I ain't drawin no hands against ya tonight. That's the luck a Ole Scratch himself. Dingle comments in his English way of speaking, Luck. Or skill at judging a shot, and trained reflex and calm sang froid at executing it. Gideon replies, If "song fwah" means having guts and keepin a cool head, that's just like cards. Ya got a tricky hand to play and a lot of money on the table, ya estimate what ya got compared to what the other players at the table might be holdin. Then ya just play yer and don't about the outcome until it happens. You play cards, Mr. Dingle?

The lead judge says, Mr. Paladin, please step to the firin line take your five shots.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin raised an eyebrow and sighed as he saw Houston's shooting. As the men passed each other from the line, Paladin tilted his hat to Houston. "Fine shooting there."

Paladin flexed his arms and fingers to loosen the tension. There had been a lot of shooting today. He took a deep breath, squinting at the distant target, visualing his bullets hitting the bullseye. Then the gunslinger methodically fired his five shots.

Second tie breaker Rifle (19) [1d20]=1, [1d20]=5, [1d20]=1, [1d20]=16, [1d20]=4

[jemmus]

The judges inspect the target and the lead judge returns and announces, Four bullseyes, two dead center. 12 points. The spectators again hoot and give whistles of admiration. One fellow offers to that bets at even odds. Houston says, Fine shooting, Mr. Paladin. That target's a way out there isn't it?

Tie, Houston and Paladin. Five more shots each. The target will stay at the same range. Mr. Houston, please go to the line. With his usual calm manner, Houston steps to the line and takes his shots.
[1d20]=14[1d20]=7[1d20]=7[1d20]=11[1d20]=17
The judges examine the target and the head judge says, Four bullseyes, two of the shots partly in the white. Twelve points. The crowd murmurs and the man offering bets says, I got two dollars on Houston at one-to-two odds. If Paladin can beat that, I'll pay four dollars. A man says, I'll take that bet. The judge says, Mr. Paladin, please take your shots.

[Grognardsw]

Yikes Houston has a 23 Rifle.

“Yes it is sir, yes it is,” Paladin replied to Houston. “We’ll see if Lady Luck still smiles.”

Paladin took a deep breath, aimed, and fired his rifle shots.

“Apparently she does,” Paladin said to himself, lowering the rifle.

Rifle (19) third tiebreaker [1d20]=9, [1d20]=6, [1d20]=5, [1d20]=14, [1d20]=4

[jemmus]

The judges investigate the target and the lead judge announces at the line, Four clean bullseyes, 12 points Paladin. Still a Paladin and Houston tie. Mr. Houston, approach the line and fire five more shots, if ya would. The crowd's murmuring get louder and its frequency of chatter increases. Nobody notices that that city marshal's office policemen that rode off in pursuit of a roped and towed buffalo hunter and a mounted cowhand haven't returned. The may who placed a 1:2 bet says, No winner, the bet's still on. Ya want to double down? The man who offered the bet thinks a second and nods. Sure. I got $4 on me. Gideon says, If either of y'all's still bettin, I'll take Mr. Paladin fer $2 at them odds. No offense, Mr. Houston, but yer a lawyer and ya snake a easy sentence out a the court fer them horse thieves. A man who will steal another man's horse is lower than dirt, and you know it as well as I do. But I guess it's a lawyer's job ta not do what's right, but best fer whatever lowdown scalawag he's standin for. Whether it's a horse thief, murderer, bank, railroad company, er sheriff's office. As the Bible said in the Gospel of Leviticus, "We all got ta what we got ta do fer Caesar's mammon, fer our reward is in heaven." But I'll put my money on Mr. Paladin. One, he's a veteran of the War, even if he was on the wrong side. Lot a them boys could fight, that's fer sure. Two, I seen in action shootin at live ones who was plenty ready to shoot back.

The man answers, The bet has changed fer new bets. One to one, $2 gits ya $2. Gideon replies, There goeth and thus sayeth a wise man. Yer on. Ya said ya got the $4 in yer pocket. How about the six? The man replies, Don't ya worry. I got it, er I can git it. He pulls his coat back to reveal an old cap and ball revolver tucked into his belt. Gideon says, That ole sweaty cowskin belt ain't worth $2. Much less with that ole field piece on wagon wheels in it. William and Paladin remember that Gideon was carrying a very similar pistol as his only (and robbed from him) weapon until just a few days ago. Somebody'll have ta hang on to those for surety until the bet's done. The man silently and surily does so. Gideon takes them over to the gentleman and lady and the lady's unmarried sister. He proffers the belt and handgun to the married lady. She compulsively puts out her hands to accept them, out of embarrassment and courtesy in a public place. Gideon tips his hat and says, Thank ya, ma'am. I believe I have found the most honest and honorable soul among all a this gatherin. He smiles an amiable and welcoming smile to the younger sister. She draws her shoulders up and inhales a short, sharp gasp. But looks after the bold stranger with curiosity as he ambles back toward the contestants' area. Her older sister holds the belt and pistol before her with thumbs and forefingers, until her gentleman husband relieves them from her, and more or less does the same.

Throughout this, Houston has been inspecting brass and lead cartridges and feeding one by one into the spring-loaded ammunition tube under the barrel of his Winchester 1873 rifle. He touches finger to his brim to Paladin, steps up to the firing line. The crowd grows silent, all eyes on the rifleman and the very distant target. Houston fires, levers, and fires his five shots.

[1d20]=13[1d20]=17[1d20]=12[1d20]=17[1d20]=6
The judges again inspect and the lead judge comes back to the line and announces, One bull's, 2 hits. Nine points fer Houston. The member of the crowd again murmur among themselves. Gideon smiles, but he's deathly quiet. He won't put pressure and bad luck on a fellow gambler who's about to play a crucial hand, at the end of of a long, tight run. Unless maybe he was betting against him. But maybe not even then, if he seemed like a decent jasper. The judge says, Mr. Paladin, yer shots please.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin tried to not let the gambling talk distract him as he reloaded the rifle.

He stepped to the line and fired another five shots.

Rifle (19) fourth tie breaker [1d20]=7, [1d20]=14, [1d20]=18, [1d20]=18, [1d20]=10

[jemmus]

The judges huddle and the lead judge shakes his head and turns to the crowd and contestants, grim-faced. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have to apologize once again. There was a mistake with the scorin of Mr. Houston's last shots. He scored five points, rather than nine. Mr. Paladin won the last round and the rifles event. His last set of shots were not necessary and will be disregarded." There are some boos from the audience. Somebody calls out, "Y'all maybe ought ta git ya some eyeglasses!" Somebody else calls, "Er a school marm to do yer cipherin for ya." "Ya'll owe Paladin fer five wasted cartridges!" Houston comes over and shakes Paladin's hand. "Very nice shooting, Mr. Paladin. It's been an honor competing with you and making your acquaintance as well."

The three top-hatted men step up to address the crowd. Another two more simply dressed men wearing coats, cowboy hats and boots are with them. The earlier most vocal of the top-hatted says, "Ladies and gentlemen, that was some fine shooting. Please give the contestants a hand." There's some modest applause, mostly from the younger boys and few women present. But from the men there are some comments of "fine shootin there," "not bad at all," "y'all done alright" and the like. "Gentlemen, would you like to address the marksmen and the spectators?" One of the top-hatted men steps forward and says, "Fine shooting, gentlemen-- and lady. The Samuel Colt company is proud to present its prizes to the talented winners of their pistols events." The last top-hatted man says, "Expert shooting indeed, lady and gentlemen. Winchester is also proud to present its prize to the well-deserving winner of the rifles event."

One of the two more plainly dressed men says, "The Travis County Cattlemen's Association congratulates the winners. And all a the contestants. If ya ever need a job, the members of the Association are hirin. Herd and remuda guards who know how ta shoot. And who people know that they know how ta shoot. That can prevent mischief from event startin the the first place. Tha pay's decent, I hear." He nods his head and touches his hat brim.

The last man says, "Well down and real impressive shootin, all a y'all. First round for all a tha shooters is courtesy of The Iron Front Saloon! After that, you'll have to rely on the generosity of Mr. Leon Robles- er yer own wallet." There's some laughter and some hoots and woots. He gives a brief stage pause, as if considering something.... "Ah what the heck. First drink is on the house fer everbody-- beer and bottom shelf stuff only!" That causes a good long and loud round of hootin and wooting and one YEE-HAW. When the noise dies down, the man says, "Oh yeah, and drinks will be served by the beautiful belles of the Lone Star Dance Hall & Saloon." The crowd erupts inthe usual hoots and woots, now with more yee-haws-- and the sound of a shot from an old cap and ball revolver. Ten dozen hands slap wood and steel or leather. The top-hatted business hold the hats and run for cover. The cattleman and saloon owner-operator scan the crowd for an instant, draw pistols, and sidle to the side, observing. The pistols event participants remember that they'd shot five rounds from the cylinder, and have one live round remaining. By thoughtful committee design, or blind thoughtless chance.

The five dozen or so spectators draw away from the source of the sound of the shot. In the center of the circle is an old grizzled cowboy dancing a little gig with elbows out and a pistol in his hand. "Big fun at the Iron Front tonight!" he crows. He looks around at all of the hands on pistol grips and rifle stocks. "I was just shootin up tha air. Y'all never done that?"

The top hatted men take their positions again. "And now, the sponsors of this event, the Austin Branch of the 1st National Bank, the Travis County Cattlemen’s Association, and the Iron Front Saloon, as well as the prize donors, the Samuel Colt Manufacturing Company and the Winchester Repeating Arms Company, would like to present the well-earned awards and prizes."

"First, the winners of the Pistols Event. Third prize: Miss Liz Molloy." [applause] One of the highly-ornamented dance hall girls comes pins a white ribbon on Liz's shirt. It has printed on it Austin Shooting Contest 1873 Pistols Event 3rd prize. The lead top hatted man says, "The share of the prize money is $4.13." He hands Liz an envelope. [applause] Liz blushes.

"Second prize: Mr. Paladin." The other dance hall girl comes up and pins a blue ribbon on Paladin's shirt. "Prize money: $28.80." [applause]

"First prize: Mr. Leon Robles." A dance hall girl pins a blue ribbon on his shirt. "Prize money: $28.80." [applause, and some impressed whistles] "And, courtesy of the Samuel Colt Manufacturing Company, a hand machined, engraved & inlaid .44 caliber New Model Army Metallic Cartridge Revolving Pistol, with custom made, gun belt and oiled holster for faster drawing of the firearm." A dance hall girl hold the firearm in her hands over her head, then opens a fine hardwood, cloth-lined box with a cleaning kit inside. She places the pistol in the box, closes it, and hands it to Robles. [applause, whistles and hoots] Robles says, "I don't know whether ta carry this firearm or mount it in a picture frame fer my mama's house." [laughter]

The awards continue this way for the Rifles event.
1st - Paladin. Blue ribbon, $23.60, Winchester Repeating Arms Company hand machined, engraved & inlaid .38-40 caliber Model 1873 Lever-Action Rifle. A dance hall girl holds it over her head to show to the crowd. There's applause and impressed whistles, and she hands it to Paladin with a smile.+1 to hit
2nd - Temple Houston. Red ribbon, $11.80.
"Third prize: Mr. William Moore. One of the dance hall girls comes up, smiles, and pins a white ribbon on his coat. "Prize money: $3.39" [applause]

And the fast draw event.
1st - Little Porter Wagner. Blue ribbon, $21.20, hand machined, engraved & inlaid Colt .38 caliber Lightning quick draw revolving pistol; with custom made, gun belt and oiled holster for faster drawing of the firearm.
2nd - Young Edward "Lefty" Morgan. Red ribbon, $10.60.
3rd - Paladin. White ribbon, $3.53.

The contestants, judges, and the dignitaries shake hands all around. The crowd gives a final round of applause, and somebody yells, "Beat ya to the bar The Iron Front Saloon!" and there's a cheer with hats waved in the air. Most of the crowd start heading directly in that direction, the dance hall girls (and their huge bouncers) leading the way. Gideon says, "Nice shootin Mr. Paladin, Mr. Moore. I guess we know who's buying the dranks tonight." He looks at Paladin and winks to William. "The bartender at The Iron Front makes an outstandin gin sling. Ever have own a those over in San Francisco? I highly recommend em."

Sorry about the mixups with the scoring. I got confused and called shots bulleyes (-9 modifier) that should have been hits (-7 modifier) Somehow the change in Range from Long to Extreme mixed me up on the applicable modifiers. I've checked and rechecked my Excel charge with the rolls and everything's good now.

All participants have a change in Stature.
DT: +1
Gideon: +1
Paladin: +4
William: +2
Judges: -3
Which still makes all of you guys pretty average or less, so far. Except for William.

Don't forgot to update your sheets with your earnings, if applicable.

[redwarrior]

William smiles and thanks the Dance hall girl. after Ammunition, I just about broke even!, Which isn't bad for this company! I guess I best get over to the saloon and part with some of this now!

[Grognardsw]

“Thank you.” Paladin graciously accepted the ribbons, cash and fancy rifle. He shook hands with the judges, contestants and sponsor men. Paladin gave a wink to the dancing girl.

“I’m glad I didn’t let you down Gideon. How much did you make off me?” Paladin said with a smile. “We’ll have to try that gin sling.”

“And I owe you a drink doc for winning the horse race,” he added to DT Crockett.

“If you ever give up lawyering, you could become a gunslinger,” joked Paladin to Temple Houston.

He went with his friends to the Iron Front Saloon.

[Thumper]

DT finds a way to shake the pistol and rifle contestants’ hands or verbally congratulate them. He falls in with William, Paladin, and McLaury heading down to the Saloon.

*Edited*
He leads his horse and reloads his revolver and carbine as he walks.

[Grognardsw]

Earlier...

“Mr. Temple, I read with admiration your soiled dove plea for Minnie Stacey. Justice sometimes requires creative approaches, something I occasionally do myself in a different capacity.” Paladin handed him his business card. “Should you need creative solutions.”

The lawyer examined Paladin's business card. I'd imagine that's an interesting line of work, Mr. Paladin. And thank you for your appreciation for the Minnie Stacey trial.
"The quality of mercy is not strained." I'd guess that you're very familiar with that William Shakespeare quote. But the quality of mercy is something people out here on the frontier don't much understand. They probably don't think they can afford to understand mercy, or to much show it. The basic rule here is lawlessness, and the daily conditions are pretty unforgiving. And the sad thing is, because people's isolation, the way information is passed around and distorted through gossip, and because of just plain boredom... legal proceedings become more about vigilante-ism, spectacle, and entertainment than about justice.

But the Minnie Stacey trial showed the people that they do understand mercy. In their hearts, they do. When the true facts and circumstances of the situation are presented to them, they find that they do have mercy, and care about fairness. So, as much as we can try to do here on the frontier. One person in one community's case at a time.

Your card shows a knight, Mr. Paladin. Can I ask why? And not a bishop, or a more powerful rook? Or even the mighty queen piece? He places the card in his coat's breast pocket. I'll keep this, Mr. Paladin, thank you. I suspect we'd see eye to eye on many things along the way. If for any reason you decide to stay in godawful Texas, he chuckles with a friendly and mirthful smile.

“Someday we may see mercy become a more common thing, but it’s a luxury few can afford on the frontier,” commented Paladin.

“Some have called me a white knight,” replied Paladin. “But as a chess piece, the knight is one of the most versatile on the board. It can move in eight different directions, over obstacles, and it’s always unexpected.”