Meanwhile, somewhere in Rocky Gulch... Of the three (and a half, if you counted the drinks menu of McCort's Restaurant) different watering-holes in Rocky Gulch, the Golden Mule was by far the least prestigious, the dirtiest, the most likely to include free severed fingers in the drinks, and certainly the most filled with low-lifes.
And as low-lifes went, a visitor to the Town would have trouble finding much lower than one Timothy M. Cody, currently seated slouched at the aformentioned Golden Mule's scarred, darkly-stained bar. His unkempt at the best-of-times facial hair partly obscured by a three-... Four? Or was it a week, now?- day's growth, this dignitary had hardly left his seat since he'd come to town a few days ago, fleeing his half-remembered escapades following his last, brief employment as a bouncer in some other run-down saloon. Beneath the dirt, bruises, the spilt booze and the overgrown whiskers, there had once been a tall, rangy feller with something approaching fair hair, but in most respectable folk's opinion, that man had long since devolved to something... 'Less'.
Splitting his time between drinking whatever was cheapest, gambling his last dollar against anyone drunk or foolish enough to challenge a rather blatant cheat, Timothy was surprisingly not exactly unhappy with that situation, seemingly just content to drink himself into an early grave.
However, all good(?) things must come to an end, and this fact penetrated his drunken haze as he heard the off-key, slovenly notes of the saloon piano- out-of-tune and battered even by saloon piano standards- come to a sudden, ominous halt, and turning unsteadily on his barstool he came face-to-face with a large, stocky brute of a man.
After a second, something clicked: This was the doorman of the Golden Mule, the oversized nephew of the old barkeep, if he wasn't mistaken. Another second and another fact came to his attention: This brutish apparation was holding a bowie knife, and wearing a rather unpleasant expression. This could be trouble.
Timothy sobered up some (rather reluctantly) at this realisation, and began to hear just what the man was saying,
"...runnin' up a might-ee big tab, mister. Now 'less you kin prove yer able to
pay that tab, we're goin' to have us a problem..."
Beyond this angry, human-shaped problem, the luckless Mr Cody can see two more enforcers, almost as large and unfriendly-looking as the first, and beyond that the creaky old floorboards, several tables housing drinkers, gamblers and various combinations thereof, and at last, the rickety batwings leading out onto the street.
It occurs that now could be a prudent time to find a new establishment to grace with his particular form of custom. He ponders this, as well as the surprisingly well-oiled gunbelt 'round his waist and the revolver holstered at his side...
A new Character has entered the game! Timothy M. Cody has been added to the player list!
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Topic: Blacktree Trail - A Western RTD- First turn of Chapter Two about 30% done! (Read 12256 times)