If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Heading Northwest, Caleb urged Morgan into a smooth, ground eating canter. The wind whipped past his face, carrying the scent of pine and fresh earth. He was leaving the empire of blood and money behind for a brief, beautiful moment, riding hard toward the homestead located southwest of Valentine, ready to bring the woman he cared about out of the dust and into the light.
The transition from the sprawling, smog choked industrial epicenter of Saint Denis to the untamed wilderness was always a jarring, deeply physical experience.
Caleb rode out of the city limits, letting the rhythmic, steady clop of Morgan's hooves against the packed dirt soothe the lingering adrenaline in his veins. The immaculate, wealthy northern district quickly fell away, replaced by the suffocating, humid embrace of the swamps of Bayou Nwa.
The air here was thick, smelling of rotting vegetation, stagnant water, and the sharp, metallic tang of the mud. Giant cypress trees loomed over the narrow trail, their branches weeping with long, gray curtains of Spanish moss that brushed against Caleb's Vaquero hat.
Even though he was now the undisputed Don of the criminal underworld that controlled this very territory, the swamp recognized no king. He kept his eyes sharp, his max-level perception scanning the dark, murky waters for the telltale ripples of massive alligators and keeping an ear out for the eerie, whistling calls of the Night Folk.
But Morgan was a brave, incredibly well trained mount, and she pushed through the oppressive humidity with a determined, ground eating stride.
Before long, the dense, suffocating canopy of the bayou began to break. The dark, muddy waters gave way to the clearer, flowing currents as he reached Ringneck Creek. The change in the atmosphere was immediate and profoundly welcome.
The stifling heat broke, replaced by a cooler, fresher breeze that carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth. Caleb allowed Morgan to pause for just a moment by the edge of the creek, letting the beautiful thoroughbred dip her muzzle into the cool, rushing water to drink her fill, before he clicked his tongue, guiding her to keep following the road north.
The terrain shifted entirely as they rode on, the flat wetlands rising into rolling, forested hills. He rode for hours, alone with his thoughts, the weight of the crown he had violently seized in Saint Denis feeling a million miles away.
Finally, the trees parted as he was passing through the rocky, dried out riverbeds of Dewberry Creek, and with a triumphant surge of speed, he formally crossed the border and entered into New Hanover state.
The moment he entered into the state, it was as if a heavy, dark curtain had been lifted from the world. He immediately followed the road left, guiding Morgan up a steep incline, and the landscape opened up into the breathtaking, sweeping vistas of the Heartlands.
The lush, rolling green plains stretched out for miles in every direction, dipping and rising like a vast, emerald ocean. Herds of bison grazed in the distance, dark specks against the vibrant green, and the sky above was a brilliant, unblemished blue.
This was the freedom that the city, with all its wealth and power, could never replicate. Caleb spurred Morgan into a full gallop, heading north following the winding dirt road.
The powerful mare responded instantly, her muscles bunching and releasing with explosive speed, relishing the open space just as much as her rider. The wind whipped past his face, tearing the last remnants of Saint Denis's cigar smoke and cordite from his clothes.
He rode hard across the Heartlands until he finally saw Valentine in the horizon. The rough and tumble livestock town sat nestled against the imposing, snow capped peaks of the Grizzlies, a smudge of gray smoke and wooden rooftops against the horizon.
As he approached, the familiar sounds of barking dogs, shouting drovers, and the rhythmic clinking of the blacksmith's hammer reached his ears.
He entered into the city, keeping his head low under the brim of his wide hat. He didn't stop at the saloon, nor did he check on his thriving restaurant just yet. He navigated the muddy main street, going left at the central crossroads, and heading west, leaving the chaotic noise of Valentine behind as he rode toward the homestead.
The ride was short but scenic, the road winding through dense pine forests and rocky outcroppings until the sprawling, heavily fortified perimeter of their sanctuary finally came into view.
When he finally arrived there, the tension that had permanently nested in his shoulders since the war with Bronte began completely evaporated. He was welcomed by Charles and John, who were currently on guard duty at the main entrance of the homestead.
The two men were leaning against the heavy wooden gate, their repeating rifles resting casually but securely nearby. They looked healthy, relaxed, and sharp, a far cry from the desperate, starving outlaws they had once been on the run.
When they saw the familiar silhouette of the Vaquero rider approaching, their faces broke into wide, genuine smiles.
"Look who the wind blew in," John called out, stepping forward to push the heavy wooden gate open. "Good to see you in one piece, Caleb."
"Welcome back, brother," Charles greeted him, his deep voice carrying a profound, quiet respect. He looked at Caleb, his sharp eyes noticing the subtle, heavier shift in the gunslinger's demeanor. "The city didn't manage to swallow you whole, I see."
Caleb returned their greeting with a warm, tired smile, pulling back on the reins to slow Morgan to a walk. "It tried, Charles. But I've got a bigger appetite than Saint Denis. It's good to be home."
He rode inside the compound, taking in the sights of the thriving homestead. The fields were well tended, the livestock pens were full, and the air smelled of fresh woodsmoke and blooming wildflowers.
He guided Morgan toward the stables and hitched her onto the sturdy wooden hitching post. He took a moment to unsaddle the beautiful mare, giving her a thorough, affectionate brushing and ensuring she had a full trough of fresh water and premium oats before leaving her to rest.
After that, Caleb went to enter the main house of the homestead. He pushed the heavy oak door open, stepping out of the bright afternoon sun and into the warm, comforting shade of the living room.
Inside, the scene was a picture of absolute domestic tranquility. He saw Abigail and Jack playing on the large, woven rug in the center of the room. Jack was laughing brightly, tossing a knotted rope toy, while Cain, the scruffy, loyal camp dog, bounded after it with enthusiastic barks.
When they heard the heavy front door open, they all turned toward the entrance. Cain's ears perked up, and the dog let out a happy yip, his tail wagging furiously.
When they saw it was Caleb standing in the doorway, their faces lit up.
"Caleb!" Jack cheered, dropping the rope and running over.
"Caleb! You're back!" Abigail greeted him, a bright, relieved smile on her face as she stood up, wiping her hands on her apron.
Caleb smiled warmly at them, feeling the cold, ruthless armor of the Don completely fall away. He knelt down as Jack ran up to him, and he brushed the top of Jack's head affectionately, ruffling the boy's hair. Cain trotted over, nudging his wet nose against Caleb's hand, and Caleb obliged, rubbing Cain's head and scratching the dog right behind the ears.
He stood back up, looking around the cozy living room, before he asked Abigail where Mary-Beth was. He had expected her to be reading by the window or sitting on the porch, waiting for him.
Abigail chuckled, a warm, knowing sound, and pointed toward the back of the house. "Mary-Beth is currently in the kitchen with Karen and Tilly. They've been in there all morning, making lunch for everyone."
Hearing that, Caleb was genuinely surprised. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. Before then, he asked what had happened to Pearson. Usually, the loud, boisterous former navy man absolutely dominated the kitchen, guarding his stew pot like a dragon hoarding gold. He rarely let anyone else take over the primary cooking duties.
Abigail chuckled again, this time failing to hide a wide, highly amused grin. She crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Well, Pearson got himself a terrible stomachache last night. He tried to experiment with some wild mushrooms he found near the tree line. Poor fool has been running out the back door and going to the toilet outhouse several times an hour since dawn. He looks paler than a ghost."
Caleb couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter, picturing the usually red-faced cook sprinting frantically across the yard.
"That's why he couldn't cook today," Abigail explained, her smile softening. "He can barely stand up straight without clutching his gut. So, the girls decided to take control of his duty for the day and give him a rest."
Hearing that, Caleb nodded his head, his amusement shifting to a mild, practical concern. He asked if he had gotten some medicine, because he knew how quickly dysentery or a severe stomach bug could dehydrate a man in this era. "Don't let it become much worse," Caleb advised. "If he needs a doctor from town, I can ride back out."
Abigail nodded her head reassuringly and said, "Don't worry, Hosea already took care of it. Hosea has gotten some medicine for the poor fella from his private stash of tonics. Peppermint, ginger, and something that smelled awful, but Pearson drank it down. He's resting in his bunk now."
Heating that Caleb nodded his head, "Good. Let me know if he needs anything else."
With the camp logistics settled, his mind turned immediately to the woman he had ridden all this way to see. And then he went to the kitchen to see Mary-Beth.
He walked softly down the wooden hallway, the rich, mouth watering aroma of roasted meat, fresh herbs, and baking bread growing stronger with every step. The sound of cheerful, overlapping feminine voices and the clattering of pots and pans echoed from the open doorway.
He stepped into the doorframe of the kitchen. Inside, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly were standing around the large wooden preparation block. They were cooking up a massive storm, their aprons dusted with flour, working in a surprisingly efficient, coordinated harmony that Pearson could never quite achieve on his own.
Caleb leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment. She looked beautiful, a stray lock of dark hair falling across her forehead as she concentrated on stirring a large, cast-iron pot.
Suddenly, they heard Caleb's voice calling for Mary-Beth. "Smells better in here than a fancy star restaurant in Saint Denis."
The three of them gasped and turned around simultaneously.
When her eyes landed on him, Mary-Beth let out a bright, absolutely radiant smile that could have outshone the sun. She didn't care about the flour on her hands or the apron she was wearing. She dropped her wooden spoon onto the counter and went straight to him.
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged Caleb tightly, burying her face into his chest, showing her profound, overwhelming happiness that he was finally back. Caleb wrapped his strong arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off her feet, breathing in the scent of lavender and fresh bread that always seemed to cling to her. It was a stark, beautiful contrast to the blood and cordite of his other life.
Caleb smiled softly, his eyes closing for a brief moment of pure peace. As he set her back down, he brushed the top of her head gently, smoothing down the stray lock of hair, and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
At this time, the quiet, romantic moment was utterly shattered by Karen and Tilly, who immediately began to tease him relentlessly.
"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!" Karen laughed loudly, leaning against the counter with her hands on her hips, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Tilly giggled, covering her mouth with a flour-covered hand. "About time you showed up, Caleb!"
They begin to teased him mercilessly.
"She's been pacing holes in the floorboards, Mr. Thorne," Karen exaggerated, winking at Mary-Beth. "Saying how she have been missing you every five minutes. I thought she was going to ride out to Saint Denis herself with a rolling pin!"
"And that's not even the best part," Tilly chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief. She pointed a wooden spoon at Caleb. "She even spoke your name in her dreams when she fell asleep on the sofa last night waiting for you! 'Oh, Caleb, please come back safely,'" Tilly mimicked in a high, dramatic, swooning voice.
Mary-Beth's cheeks flushed a furious, brilliant shade of crimson. She shot her friends a mock murderous glare. She quickly shushed them, waving her hands frantically. "Stop it, both of you! I did not sound like that!"
Karen and Tilly just dissolved into fits of laughter, highly entertained by her embarrassment. Mary-Beth turned back to Caleb, still blushing deeply, and tried to recover her dignity. She looked up at him, her dark eyes scanning his face for any signs of injury or exhaustion. "Are you alright? Was the business in the city... difficult?" she asked softly, knowing full well that 'business' for Caleb usually involved a terrifying amount of danger.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 286,492 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -