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Guns of Camelot

The sword gives way to the gun, technology replaces magic, and after a thousand years since its beginning, Camelot still stands strong... yet dark forces are rising and bad times are on horseback......

Tags: action, adventure, arthurian, camelot, fantasy, gun, gunslinger, knights, legend, magic, medieval, romanticism, western

Character Approval: Yes

Player Level: Intermediate

New Players: Open

Creator: rumxcoke

Created: 02-26-2013, 05:15 PM

 

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Game Log in Chapter One: Arrival of Refugees

They come in droves to Camelot as the war commences in Avalon. The Gunslingers who were left behind are restless, but they still have a job to do, protecting the city and overseeing the influx of refugees.



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Thread: Guns of Camelot

  1. Characters in this post:
    Mitchell leaned on the parapet of the wall, looking to the west of Camelot and out to the hilly horizon beyond. Somewhere in that direction, a war was being fought. Something that mattered and where Gunslingers were needed, but evidently Mitchell was not one of those deemed to have been necessary. He understood why, but it didn't make him feel any less... well, less about it.

    Blowing out a tedious sigh, he turned to look at the line of refugees from Avalon entering the city. Mitchell supposed that he ought to be down at the gates to help the Gunslingers there maintain order, but no, he most likely wasn't needed there either. Things were quite orderly as they were right now, so the young Gunslinger simply decided to park his arse on the ground with his back to the parapet and his hat tilted over his eyes to doze in the sun.

    Being off patrol duty until the evening, there was simply nothing to do except maybe train in the yard, but he had already done that before coming here. Maybe I'll go questing for a Caliburn Gun, he thought lackadaisically. Yeah, as if.

  2. Characters in this post:
    Landarin drew a long drag off his hand rolled cigarette and held the smoke in for a few seconds before letting it out as he strolled through the front gates of Camelot. He looked around taking in his surroundings for what they were and what he could gain from them and found himself to be indifferent. The city itself was nice and all but urban life had never really appealed to him in any way shape or form. This is going to be a pain in the ass, He thought to himself. Tipping his hat back he scratched his head trying to decide what to do next. He had no idea exactly how to go about what he needed to do but it had to be done to protect his hoard and any future "acquisitions." If only normal life was as easy as exploration, then he might have a chance.

  3. Characters in this post:
    After a few short minutes, Mitchell decided that the hard ground was making him feel sore and all the soft murmurings of the refugees was getting on his nerves. He stood up, considering going to the yard for another spot of training, but then the sounds of harshly uttered words caught his ear and he looked over the wall to see what was happening. Two Gunslingers stood to the side of the gate, talking to another who appeared to have come along with the refugees.

    "I don't recognize him," said one as he spat a glob of tobacco chew. "Say we bring him in for interrogation."

    "It's plain enough if you got eyes," said the other, standing with his thumbs hooked in his gun belt and slightly leaning on one leg. "He ain't from around here, nor Avalon either. Interrogating here will do just fine. Where do you come from stranger and what business do ye got here?"

    Mitchell watched the scene with intense interest, wondering who this strange Gunslinger was. And a Gunslinger he surely was, for there he stood with a piece on each hip, but not of Camelot. A rare foreigner.

  4. Characters in this post:
    The two men barely caught Landarin's attention he was so engrossed in the task ahead of him. Catching only a few words from one man he cursed his thoughtfulness and hoped he could make out what he had said as the conversation grew on. Luckily enough the second man asked him a straight forward question, sadly one that he didn't dare answer.

    "My business?" He asked as he blew a nice big puff of smoke out of his nose. "My business is none of yours, friend."

    Landarin hoped that his bluntness wouldn't cause a fight but he couldn't risk answering the question, even in a roundabout way. Today didn't need anymore hindrances or problems, let alone bloodshed. As a precautionary and a sort of warning to the two he put his hands on his belt close to his weapons. Threats were risky business, they caused fights just as often as they stop them but he hoped that today it would do the latter.

  5. Characters in this post:
    Oh no, big mistake, Mitchell thought with horror as he saw the stranger shift his hands toward the butts of his guns. In Camelot, laying hands on holsters was the traditional challenge to a duel, and to the two Gunslingers interviewing him, his gesture might have been close enough.

    "Don't seem like there's much cause for us to be friends then, stranger," the Gunslinger with the thumbs in his belt replied. His tone was bland, but the subtle shift in his stance gave enough meaning.

    Mitchell scrambled off towards the nearest staircase leading down to the gates of the city. As inexperienced as he was as a full time Gunslinger, he was compelled by the training and lessons of his youth to help in any way he could, to prevent a possible disaster. He hoped that by the time he got there, it wouldn't be too late.

  6. Characters in this post:
    Things were heading south quickly. Extremely quickly. Nearby refugees turned their heads to look at the three feeling that something was just not right. Landarin noticed small changes in the strangers body language and knew that he had pissed them off, bad. He scanned around with his eyes trying to figure out some way out of this situation. These men seemed good enough and he didn't feel like scrapping with them just right now but unfortunately he could find no way to change the situation.

    He let out an audible Hmm as he thought, not shifting from his position an inch, waiting to see what the two would do before he would act. This is not good.

  7. Characters in this post:
    Mitchell bumped past several refugees and citizens as he rushed down the staircase and barrelled towards the city gate. Just as the Gunslinger with the thumbs in his belt looked ready to issue a challenge, Mitchell shouted out, "Ho there, now there's a familiar face!"

    The two older Gunslingers turned their wolf eyes from the stranger to Mitchell as he came scampering towards them, like the knee biting pup that he was.

    "You recognize this fella, Mitch?" asked the one with the tobacco chew.

    "You bet I do," Mitchell replied brightly as he thought, What the heck do I tell them?

    An awkward silence passed as the two older gunslingers waited for an explanation. They would pick up on the slightest hint of deception. It was time to tread carefully, but not too carefully. They would pick up on that as well.

    "I met him in Avalon."

    "You've never been to Avalon," the other Gunslinger flatly replied, the one with thumbs in belt.

    "Actually, I have," Mitchell responded, injecting reproachfulness into the tone of his voice and hoping for the best. "But it's not like you have to care about the doings of squires, eh?"

    The older Gunslingers looked at each other as if to exchange opinions, then at Mitchell again with the weight of judgement in their eyes.

    "You should go on and get, Mitchell, this is serious business we're handling," said the one with the tobacco.

    "Hey, I'm a Gunslinger as well now, same and equal as you, and I demand to be treated as such. Let me speak to my acquaintance here, will you?"

    The two Gunslingers exchanged looks again and finally nodded at Mitchell in reluctant deference. As they turned their attentions back to the gate, Mitchell stepped towards the stranger, addressed him with a short bow of greeting, then said in a low voice, "That was close. Let's go elsewhere, eh?"

  8. Characters in this post:
    The man who had just approached him looked young but there was no doubt that he was also a gunslinger and knew the two men that had been quite a hassle. As Landarin contemplated what had caused such a rescue from a man he didn't know he accepted his offer with a nod.

    "Yeah, that's a good idea."

    Leaving no time for discussion Landarin quickly pin pointed the direction to the nearest tavern and began to make his way there. He had a knack for picking out the location of taverns and bars, they were always good places to get information.

    He looked over the strange young man out of the corner of his eye. He seemed pretty normal, a new gunslinger if Landarin ever knew one. The novice radiated off him like stink from a drunkard and yet he seemed to command a certain respect. A quality that most people would kill to have.

    "So. Who are you son and what prompted you to save my ass back there."

  9. Characters in this post:
    "Name's Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch for short," the young Gunslinger replied as he walked alongside the stranger. "And, uh, well it just seemed like the right thing to do, y'know. So you really ain't from around here are ya?"

    A thousand questions of curiosity whirled around in his mind like a tornado, but he kept a lid on it for now. Seeing that they were heading towards the tavern, Mitchell decided that a drink was just the thing to have right now.

  10. Characters in this post:
    "Nope, I have a house in Avalon but I couldn't really say that it's my home," Landarin said, a sound of amusement in his voice, as he took a final puff from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and putting it out with his boot. A few steps later he entered the tavern and looked around as the smell of strong liquor and tobacco penetrated deep in his lungs. He made his way to the nearest seat and pulling two coins out of his pocket he placed them on the counter indicating that he wanted two drinks.

    "So you're fresh out of squire-hood, eh?" He commented, stirring up a conversation just before the freshly poured drinks were placed beside him. Gripping the glass he downed the liquid and placed the container back on the counter. The hard alcohol burned as it made his way down his throat but the pay off was well worth it.

  11. Characters in this post:
    "That I am," Mitchell replied as he took his own glass and held it up in salutation. "Second or third week of the rest of my life."

    Taking a short swallow of his drink, he turned towards the stranger and said, "So I've said my name, now what's yours? If you don't mind my asking."

    One question down, nine-hundred and ninety-nine to go, he thought with dry amusement.

  12. Characters in this post:
    "Landarin Ellenmyer."

    This kid asks just as many questions as the other two. Landarin was trying to avoid any local attention but apparently it was unavoidable. Oh well. If he was going to live here they would meet him soon enough, he may as well start off on the right foot.

    "Let me ask you this Mitch. Have you heard any strange rumors or stories? Anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Any old tales unique to Camelot. Anything at all."

  13. Characters in this post:
    John grunted, He has finally returned to his.. Well couldn't call it a home seeing as he considered this city a blemish ever since he left. After leaving for four years now returning twenty-five, He wore a dark crimson hood over his head to cover his features for if he didn't he would easily be recognized as John redduns, He was quite famous after that little incident four years ago, He got dueled way could he have done just die? Nope he fought and won, Taking out seven gunslingers in the process.

    As he walked though the streets his mind was lost in thought, He never noticed the two gunslingers that he practically ran into knocking them flat on there asses in here process.

    Awh crap not again..

  14. Characters in this post:
    Mitchell heard and repeated Landarin's name in his mind. Then sipping at his drink and letting out a hmm of consideration, he replied, "Well it depends, what do you want to hear? There's many stories here in Camelot and I reckon a lot of them might seem strange to a foreigner, no offence, begging your pardon. Anyways, the only unusual thing I know of right now is the war in Avalon. Dunno if there's anything afoot over here."

    After another hmm and another sip, a thought occurred to him that made him brighten up instantly. "But I reckon that if anyone would know, it'll be the Merlin. Guy's usually busy, but I know he'll take appointments for a bit of palaver. Heck, we could probably go right now to talk to him- WHOA!"

    Mitchell was bowled out of his seat as someone knocked into him from behind. Quickly springing to his feet, he turned to look at the interloper and saw an unfamiliar face. Another traveller from distant lands? Mitchell thought at first, but there was something about the man that whispered Camelot. He couldn't tell what exactly, but the feeling was there.

    "You alright, fella?" Mitchell asked, ignoring the spilled drink on the sleeve of his jacket.

  15. Characters in this post:
    John sighs, he was glad this was not heading in the fighting direction. He looked down slightly his face covered from the hood with shadows, He was standing at his full 6'4 height so he had to adjust his neck to look at him. He replied clamly his tone one of mystery, "Im fine, I should be the one asking you if your okay young-gunner."

    Young-gunner was a nickname for fresh Gunslingers, He didn't mean it as a a insult just a habit, He could tell he was fresh off squire hood. But the other man was clearly foreign he could be a threat but seemed mellow.

    "I'm terribly sorry for the incident."

  16. Characters in this post:
    "It's no problem at all friend," Landarin assured the stranger. "Care for a drink?" Landarin left no room for question, immediately purchasing another round. If he was to get back to business he had to find a home quickly.

    "I have another question Mitch. Would you happen to know if theres any land for sale 'round these parts?"

  17. Characters in this post:
    John was about to nod except when a rather strange powerful gust of wind knocked back his hood. Letting out a grasp his face was esposed to many around but few took notice, But the few that did would easily recognize him. He sighed before looking at the two men again.

    "I will take you up on that drink later, For now I believe we should quickly depart.." John said as he could tell a few people hands were itching to take there revolvers out and duel him.

  18. Characters in this post:
    Nuala rushed down the stairs of her Aunt Jane's town-house. It was already passed 10 on a Saturday and by now people would be wondering why she wasn't out and about. Eversince her father, Angus McNair, a respected Gunslinger, had been relocated to Camelot to help the war effort, Nuala took to visiting him on the weekends. Friday afternoon she'd arrive. On Saturday's she sold wool goods. Rose, her mother, did not pass up an opportunity to sell their wares on weekly visits to a City as big as Camelot. Sunday morning would be spent with her father and that afternoon Nuala would head home.

    “Whoa!” Spinning on her heels, Nuala just missed a collision with the maid who carried a basket of freshly cleaned towels. “Sorry Miss Katie!”

    The new maid pressed her back against the wall, catching her breath and clutching her heart. Miss Katie shook her head as she watched the wild girl hop over Poppy, the lazy old Beagle, and turn the corner. Heading for the kitchen, no doubt. Over sleeping meant no proper breakfast. Nuala had to get something to eat. There was only Mrs. Anne 'Cook' Smith to worry about now. Thankfully the side door of the kitchen faced the little alley where her beige Shire mare Clover stood, already hitched to the wee wagon that carried the wool merchandise. Just beyond the garden and picket fence. Nuala dashed through and snatched a hot pie.

    “Hey!” Cook waved a hot spatula in the air. “What are you doing in here you little ragamuffin? Hey, give that back!”

    Ignoring Cook's swears and fuming, and dodging a swipe to the butt from her spatula, Nuala ran out the door, crossed the garden, jumped the fence, and mounted Clover. Her wagon did not have a bench to sit on, just the saddle on Clover was to be her seat. Nuala clicked her toungue just as Cook lumberd out of the house to get her revenge. When Nuala was far enough away, she slowed down and took a bite of the delightful pastry.

    “AH!” She cringed. “Haht, haht, haht, haht!”

    Some crumbs fell, but nothing to get upset over. Blowing it off a little, Nuala closed her eyes and shoved the rest down her throat. She was so hungry. It felt scorching despite the attempt to cool it off. Regardless of this she had to begin her day! Nuala sang a song she wrote as an announcement to Camelot that she was ready to meet them. She called it 'Song of the Wool Maiden.'

    Come one and all, one and all,
    Oh Camelot.
    Come one and all, one and all,
    to my wool cart.

    If you will buy, I would sell my cart dry,
    Come one and all, one and all!

    Come one and all, one and all,
    Oh Camelot.
    Come one and all, one and all,
    In the morning.

    I have fine threads, colored clothes, and quilts,
    Come one and all, one and all!

    Come one and all, one and all,
    Oh Camelot.
    Come one and all, one and all,
    Till the evening.

    When the day is done, I'll be off before the sun.
    So, Come one and all, one and all!

    Oh, Camelot!

    Stopping her cart at the last note, as was her custom, she slipped off Clover to greet the children. Nuala was made to sell wool goods by her mother, but she made little caramels to sell too. As sated by her sign.

    Nuala's Wool Wagon

    Quilts 10 for a large, 5 for small
    Clothe 2 per yard, 200 per ream
    Thread 1 per spool, 10 per set
    *Special Orders Vary*
    Caramel Bites (Hard and Soft) ½ for one, 5 for a cone


    But of course, the kids got a free sample every visit. It was something special for them to look forward to, in these dreadful times. Refugees need something to smile about. So Nuala brought them candy. But the adults had to pay for theirs. A girls got to make money, right?

    “Okay, one at a time now.” She told them. “Get in a line behind Joseph.”

  19. Characters in this post:
    Mitchell was about to answer Landarin's question when the wind coming through an open window blew back the stranger's hood. "Oh shit!" Mitchell uttered before he could stop himself as he recognized the man's face. Recognized? How could he forget? He had seen the man in person four years ago the day he had earned his infamy and fled to no one knew where, and good riddance. Ace duelist, legendary troublemaker, John Reduns.

    Though not a Caliburn Knight, he was reputed to be as fast as one, which would have been fine were it not for the way he had proven it. At least half of all the Gunslingers in the tavern must have held a grudge against him for the deaths of the seven he had killed in duel after duel, and half again would have recognized him by sight. The seven were all decent fellows, respected by their peers, but uncompromising towards any slights against their honour, and thus they had met their ends over such matters. What in the big blue sky was the least popular Gunslinger in Camelot doing back here?

    Sensing the sudden darkening of the atmosphere within the tavern, Mitchell looked nervously at Landarin and John, and said, "Uh, yeah, let's go." Out of one frying pan and into another, what's with today?

    Stepping out on the street and well away from the tavern, he whirled around and said, "Okay, I might have still been a squire the last time you were around, but even I know who you are, John Reduns. You ain't fooling anybody, so why, of all the places in the land, did you decide to come back here?"

    As Mitchell turned towards the line of refugees streaming into the city, he saw a dark haired girl amongst them, selling wool from a wagon. For a moment, he had forgotten the reality shaking reappearance of John-damn-Reduns and could only focus on the girl giving away candy to the children. The smiles on their faces and on hers, it was... When several refugees walked by and blocked her out of sight, Mitchell's attention returned to John and he glared at him, waiting for an answer.

  20. Characters in this post:
    John glared at the kid, he had no right to question him on such personal matters. He decided to answer as he looked at him his feeting naturally taking a shooting stance, by now it was habit. He rested his hand on his gun belt cautiously. "Simply visiting." He stated with a slight hint of sarcasm, it wasn't a lie he was visiting but not for the sights he has heard of the war. As odd as it may seem this was still his homeland, He couldn't just let it die.

    John eyes squinted as he could make out a figure leaving the tavern, from the mans waking he was clearly lookin for a fight or maybe John himself. He turned towards the group before pushing though people to make his way towards them his rage almost uncontrollable. " You, You Duel me now I know who the fuck you are!" The man yelled, And it seemed people knew who the man was seeing as he had people departing and even cheering for him. Out of fear of him it seemed.

  21. Characters in this post:
    "Don't be a fool!" Mitchell shouted as he placed himself between John and the challenger. The man surely knew what he was getting himself into, but ah, for the sake of old grudges, there may have been no helping it. Mitchell had the strong feeling that should John survive this, he would only have the same kind of effect wherever he went unless the Merlin could do something, anything to help.

    "You just shut the hell up, kid!" The man spat as he slapped the holster on his gunbelt and directed a burning gaze towards John. "This maggot has gotten away with his shit for too long! I, Steven James, son of Lucas, challenge you, John bloody Reduns."

    "Old misdoings, old history!" Mitchell cried out, almost helplessly. There was no veering from this path, but damnit, he still had to try.

    The other Gunslinger simply stood with his feet apart and his hand on the butt of his gun. Time seemed to freeze at that moment and it seemed as though Mitchell wasn't even there, standing in the way of a duel. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the way. This was Gunslinger business in its purest form. From the days of old, knights challenged each other to settle their differences, as they had every right to do, and there was no standing in the way of that. To do so would have been vulgar.

  22. Characters in this post:
    John face remained blank, His face contorted into one of displeasure as his eyes squinted the sun was beating down on him. He causally removed his brown wide brimmed hat that was one of western style placing it on his head. He placed his hand on his revolver butt.

    " I John Redduns accept your challenge." John felt them slow his heart quicken, He was entering a new mode of seeing, His vision began to become extremely focus as he focused on the man. He motioned for the boy to start the duel.

  23. Characters in this post:
    Feeling the blood freeze in his veins, Mitchell realized that he would have to be the one to give the signal. This was even more daunting than his test of proving to become a Gunslinger, and twice again more harrowing than laying hands on guns for the first time as a squire. Another test then. He would not shirk. He was determined to not falter in the enormous responsibility he was given. One of these men were going to bleed, perhaps die, perhaps both, and they would need a signal to commence.

    Standing out of their line of fire and squaring his feet like a Gunslinger, a true Gunslinger, Mitchell looked at each duelist in turn then uttered a single word: "Draw."

    They both drew their guns at almost the same time. Almost.

  24. Characters in this post:
    John body turned as he drew his firearm, His body twisting along him a smaller target to his enemy. His hand brought the fire arm up locking on the mans revolver before letting a lone shot ring out. The bullet whisked though there sit its path set for the mans hand. John watched as something almost magically happened, The bullet hit the fun cylinder rechoshating off towards between the mans eyes but not before causing enough heat to set of his own firearm causeing a small explosion completely distorying his hand.

    The bullet met it's mark between the mans eyes, It dug into it leaving a small wound before bursting out the back of his skull taking a large chunk out the back. The man had a look if pure shock on his face as he stumbled back before falling to the ground. John shook his hand as he twisted his revolver letting the lone shell fall out before his other hand grabbed another round throwing it in the air as his other hand swung. The round being caught into the cylinder cause of the revolver effectively reloading it. Using his hands he closed the cylinder. With a flick of his wrist he spun The revolver into its holister.

    "Damn fool." John said, He turn his head towards the gunslinger. What John did was a feat few, Very few could pull off. Over the years he had learned a few tricks from his travels.

  25. Characters in this post:
    Duels weren't a rarity here in Camelot, but the kids were still new to this world. Any gunfights were a big deal for them. When they started pointing and shouting Nuala turned to see two men at the draw. Mitchell was there. he stood a few feet away, giving the men their space. Nuala frowned. Duels. Pfft. What a waste of life. But hey, you live by the gun you die by the gun. Nuala mulled over these words as the man, apparently John Redun, shot the other down. The kids screamed, but not for fear. They did it for fun. They new what duels were. No harm to them. Clover even was calm. She got used to it by now.

    "Oh stop encouraging them." Nuala shooed the children away. No need to gawk at whoever the dead man believed he was, challenging John. Nuala wasn't big on guns and things, but she heard of John. 'Steven' was a fool. Her father told her that much about duels. Live to die for them, when you got nothing to lose.

  26. Characters in this post:
    Mitchell flinched at the gunshot and subsequent death of Steven, but recovered quickly. The rounds cooking off in the cylinder of the man's gun had been a surprise, but it was done either way. It was over. Now eight Gunslingers, Mitchell thought. With each notch, another stick to the flames.

    Several people who were gathered around grumbled at the outcome of the duel, but shuffled off nonetheless. A couple were dragging Steven's body away, for burial no doubt. Now the problem was the question of 'what now'?

    Recalling his earlier thought about it, Mitchell turned to John and said, "This, this is why your being here is such a big deal." He turned to see another Gunslinger crouch down to retrieve Steven's ruined revolver. "There's going to be fallout. Things like this is going to keep happening until someone with enough clout tells everyone to cry off. I reckon we need to see the Merlin."

    Mitchell turned to Landarin and added, "That ought to be good for you as well if knowledge and land is what you're after. The Merlin can help you get sorted out. For now, let's leave this place, eh?"

    Taking a last look around, Mitchell saw the dark haired girl watching with something like disapproval on her face. Maybe it was the way her mouth was set, or maybe it was her eyes... Blue like the sky.

    Mitchell gave a shrug as if to say 'it happens' then turned to leave. He was beginning to miss the earlier boredom.

  27. Characters in this post:
    John looked at the scene, he frowned, death was never something that he could get used to only accept. Turning towards the boy he nodded with agreement."we should depart quickly." John said as he was ready to leave the area quickly, He did how ever catch the eyes if that girl. He gave a swift tip if his hat towards her, His facial features became slightly more visible as he brought his hat up. He maybe before the fights was at one point a handsome man, But now afte eyesores of fighting he held many scars that seemed to tell stories ranging from a fist to a knife. He pivoted on his foot, his boots clicking on the ground as he walked away from the center of the makeshift arena to the young gunslinger.

  28. Characters in this post:
    John Redun made a quick tip of his hat. Nuala had to make her own gesture of acknowledgment. It's how she was raised. It was a soft nod. Not approving, but respectful. Her father would expect nothing less. Nuala wondered how Mitchell felt about these things. She never got around to talk'n to him. A bit too shy for that. So she could only guess.

    “Well, better get.” She sighed, mounting Clover. She purposefully went off, singing. Ignoring Hilda, who was just walking over. She boastful git of a hag who liked to comment on Nuala's bare feet and thin build. Not that Nuala was under fed, the old lady liked to pick on her, so she exaggerated everything. Does one really need shoes? She thought not!

    Nuala smiled inwardly at having escaped another teeth grinding session. As much as she didn't like Hilda, she wasn't allowed to hit elders.

    Not today, you old nanny. Nuala thought. And it was true. Hilda reminded one of a goat.

    “Come one and all, one and all.” Nuala began, and when she stopped singing, her ride would stop as well. It kept her entertained and set an approximate distance between sale spots.

    Soon her route would end and she'd hand Clover over to a stable. After that, Nuala would find her father. She was sure he'd want to know what she had seen today. Hopefully he won't ask about 'Stix', his colt revolver. Nuala hadn't taken it out when she first saw guns unholstered. Not having a gun at her side just irritated him a little. It's just that she was a good shot, so why not carry?

    Stopping here, stopping there, Nuala gave out candies and sold wool wares. Finally when the sun looked tired and couldn't hold on to the day, she rode to the stables. A few people complained as she rushed by. No one around to stop her, she took to the quick pace. When Clover was safe in the stalls, Nuala walked out happily. Aunt Jane's wasn't far off, and some where in the City was her father. It was like a fox hunt. So exciting!

  29. Characters in this post:
    As Mitchell led the way, he realized how odd it must look to be walking down the streets with two older Gunslingers in tow. A foreigner, a known killer and a youngster. How the gossip would flow from all those who marked the sight of them. He wondered what John Reduns was thinking about right now, walking down a street he hadn't seen in four years. The return of the prodigal son, yet no father or friend to greet him, and he's already causing a ruckus.

    Glancing up at the sky, Mitchell marked that the sun was beginning to dip. Now was most likely the best time to see the Merlin, or perhaps not. Mitchell hadn't seen him since the war in Avalon began and didn't know how that affected his schedule. Oh well, guess we'll find out.

    Turning around houses and walking up steps, he thought back to his conversation with Landarin in the tavern. Why would anyone want to know about old tales and strange rumours? Was he looking for something? The thought flashed across Mitchell's mind that Landarin might actually be a treasure hunter or a wandering scholar. Perhaps both, why not? A Gunslinger wizard come to Camelot from afar, drawn by its famous hospitality and way of welcoming newcomers.

    The thought made Mitchell chuckle out loud, for which he hastily apologized. "Just thinking about how odd a group we must make," he said and then to Landarin, "So earlier you said that you were living in Avalon. How was it over there, before the war began that is? I've never actually been there before."

  30. Characters in this post:
    John replied the scene in his was, The duel, It was something that he could never get used to. The adrenaline was dulling in his veins but the rush of battle was still within him. Another day, Another body, Thought John.

    Upon noticing the boy laughing, Linstening to him he couldn't help but agree with him, They were a band of misfits. "We are what we are. Accept it." He mutter as he placed his hands in his duster pocket.

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