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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Pierre looked back at his exhausted, terrified legal team, clapping his hands together sharply. "Well, gentlemen," Pierre announced to his team, picking up his fountain pen and pulling the Gray family deeds toward him. "It appears the hard work wouldn't be stopping yet. Brew another pot of coffee. We are going to own the entire South by sunrise."
The next day, back on Caleb's position deep in the wilderness of Scarlett Meadows.
The morning sun broke through the pine trees, casting a warm, golden light over the hidden ridge camp. After a deep, incredibly good rest for Caleb, the boys of the gang, Sadie, and his entire remaining force of capos that was staying with him, the mood in the camp was victorious and relaxed. The men were cooking bacon over small campfires and cleaning their weapons, entirely unbothered by the fact that they had just committed a massacre the day prior.
Caleb stood near the edge of the ridge, sipping a tin cup of black coffee. He looked out over the sprawling, subjugated valley below. The war was won, but his insatiable drive for wealth was never truly satisfied.
With a mere thought, Caleb opened his system map once again.
The world shifted into the faint, translucent grid of digital information. Caleb's eyes scanned the vast expanse of the Scarlett Meadows and the surrounding Lemoyne wilderness. He utilized his max level Treasure Hunter skill to maximum effect.
The map immediately lit up. He looked at the several bright, glowing golden points scattered across the topography where his skill explicitly said there was either buried gold, hidden stacks of money, lockboxes full of jewels, or any other highly valuable things that were hidden from the naked eye.
There were outlaws' stashes hidden in hollowed out tree stumps, forgotten lockboxes buried beneath old ruins, and sunken lockboxes resting in the shallow mud of the bayous.
Caleb closed the map, a bright, highly satisfied smile touching his lips. He tossed the dregs of his coffee into the dirt and turned back toward the camp.
He didn't want to leave all that capital rotting in the dirt when it could be funding his empire. He immediately ordered for the remaining capos and the boys of the gang to gather around.
"Listen up, boys," Caleb commanded, instantly drawing the attention of Arthur, John, Bill, Sadie, Lenny, Sean, and the heavily armed mobsters. "We have secured the plantation, but our work out here isn't quite finished. I have some specific coordinates I want you to hit before we ride back to the city. I want you to go out and dig some things up for me."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, leaning against a pine tree. "Dig things up? What kind of things, Caleb? We ain't exactly archaeologists."
Caleb chuckled, knowing exactly how bizarre the request sounded. He couldn't tell them a magical video game interface was pointing him toward the loot. So, he of course used a brilliantly made up reason that perfectly aligned with his fabricated, legendary backstory.
"Gold, Arthur. Money. Jewels," Caleb explained smoothly, his charismatic voice easily selling the lie. "You boys have to remember, before I came to Saint Denis and built this empire, I used to travel around. I spent years riding the most dangerous, desolate trails in this country as a bounty hunter. And when you are hunting the worst outlaws in America, you tend to stumble across their hidden stashes."
Caleb gestured out toward the wilderness. "Some of the locations I am going to give you are things I found back in my hunting days, but I chose to hide them and leave them buried for one reason or another. It was too hot to move, or too heavy to carry on a single horse. And the rest of the locations are actually my own personal collection, bounties and raw gold that I actively stored and buried out in the wilderness for safekeeping before I ever came to Saint Denis."
Hearing that, the skepticism instantly vanished from the faces of the gang members. It made absolute, total sense. In the world of outlaws and gunslingers, burying your wealth in the dirt was the only safe way to bank it. And as a traveler and sometimes bounty hunter in the past, Caleb would undoubtedly have dozens of high value stashes scattered across the state.
"I couldn't exactly carry fifty pounds of gold bars in my saddlebags while hunting bounties," Caleb smiled, pulling a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil from his duster.
He began rapidly sketching out incredibly precise, detailed maps based on the glowing dots from his system interface. "But now that I have a private army and heavy transport wagons, it's time to make a massive withdrawal from the Bank of the Wilderness."
He handed the hastily drawn, perfectly accurate treasure maps to Arthur, John, and the leading capos.
"Split into squads," Caleb ordered. "Take shovels, take the spare horses, and go to exactly these spots. Dig exactly where I marked the 'X'. You will find lockboxes, buried chests, and loose gold. I want it all brought back here by noon."
"You got it, Don McLaughlin," the capos nodded eagerly, thrilled at the prospect of digging up raw gold rather than dodging bullets.
Arthur looked at the detailed map in his hand, shaking his head in absolute disbelief. "Caleb, you are a walking vault. I swear, if you told me you had the deed to the moon buried in a stump out here, I'd probably believe you at this point."
"Just dig, Arthur," Caleb laughed warmly.
As the squads of capos and gang members mounted up and rode out into the foggy wilderness, armed with shovels and Caleb's impossible maps, the Don of Saint Denis sat down on a heavy wooden crate. He pulled a premium cigar from his pocket and lit it, watching the sun rise fully over a state that he now completely owned.
Caleb waited for quite some time as the digging was being done. He sat on the heavy wooden ammunition crate at the edge of the ridge, the premium imported cigar clamped firmly between his teeth, sending thick, aromatic plumes of blue smoke up into the crisp winter canopy of the pine trees.
In front of him, the sprawling Scarlett Meadows was quiet. The distant, continuous roar of gunfire that had completely defined the morning had faded into absolute, chilling silence. The Gray family was broken, their mercenaries were rotting in the red dirt, and the town of Rhodes was firmly under the iron grip of the Italian mafia.
The sun climbed higher into the sky, burning away the last lingering remnants of the morning fog, bathing the Lemoyne wilderness in a bright, unforgiving light.
Finally, after a couple of hours had passed, the rhythmic, heavy thud of approaching hooves echoed through the dense brush. Caleb stood up, brushing a stray piece of ash from his ruined leather duster, and turned toward the center of the camp.
The specialized squads of capos and the boys of the Van der Linde gang were returning from the coordinates he had explicitly drawn out for them. They rode into the clearing, their horses snorting and stamping the dirt. The men were absolutely covered in mud, sweat, and grime, their shovels strapped to their saddles, but every single one of them was sporting a massive, ear to ear grin.
Arthur was the first to dismount, leading his massive Shire horse toward the center of the camp. He didn't say a word at first. He simply reached over his saddle and hauled a heavy, mud caked burlap sack off the horse, dropping it onto a flat canvas tarp that had been laid out on the ground. The sack hit the earth with a massive, metallic, and incredibly heavy thud that did not sound like loose change or paper bills.
John rode in next, laughing breathlessly as he and Bill dragged a rotting, iron bound wooden chest off the back of a packhorse. The capos followed suit, dropping heavily laden saddlebags, rusted lockboxes, and canvas sacks onto the tarp.
Caleb walked over, his sharp blue eyes scanning the massive pile of recovered loot.
"Open them," Caleb commanded smoothly.
Arthur drew his hunting knife and slashed the thick twine tying the burlap sack shut. John took a crowbar from a capo and violently pried the rusted iron lock off the wooden chest.
When the contents of the various stashes were finally exposed to the winter sunlight, Caleb was genuinely surprised by the sheer amount of wealth his system map had successfully pinpointed.
Sitting on the canvas tarp, gleaming with a heavy, intoxicating luster, were fifteen solid gold bars. They were stamped with old, pre war banking seals, completely untraceable and worth an absolute fortune.
Beside the gold, bursting out of the rotting wooden chest, were thick, tightly bound stacks of aged but entirely valid United States currency, tens of thousands of dollars in raw, liquid cash that had been buried and forgotten by dead outlaws and terrified plantation owners over the decades.
And that wasn't all. One of the Italian capos cracked open a small, ornate iron box that had been dug up from the muddy banks of the bayou. Inside, resting on a bed of decaying velvet, was a breathtaking collection of antique, incredibly expensive jewelry. There were heavy gold pocket watches, diamond brooches, and loose, uncut jewels,.rubies and emeralds that sparkled brilliantly in the sun.
The sheer volume of the haul was staggering. It was the kind of money that men fought entire wars over, just pulled from the dirt in a single morning.
Caleb's surprise was momentarily visible on his usually impenetrable face. Even with his max level Treasure Hunter skill, he hadn't fully comprehended exactly how dense the wealth of the American frontier truly was. His slight widening of the eyes was quickly seen by everyone standing around the tarp. Arthur caught the look, a highly amused smirk crossing the big enforcer's face.
Realizing he needed to maintain his fabricated, legendary backstory, Caleb quickly recovered. He let out a low, rich chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down at the absolute mountain of wealth. He decided to let out a serious joke to cover his tracks.
"Well, boys," Caleb drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and offering a charming, highly charismatic smile. "I'll be entirely honest with you... I must have taken a bullet to the head during one of those old bounties, because even I myself do not remember actively burying quite this much out here."
The gang burst into a loud, booming chorus of laughter when they heard this. The sheer absurdity of a man casually 'forgetting' he had fifteen gold bars and tens of thousands of dollars buried in the woods was the perfect punchline to a morning of brutal slaughter.
"If this is what you forget about, Caleb," Sean laughed, slapping his knee, "I'd hate to see what you actually keep track of!"
"I think we need to start following you around with shovels full time, boss," Bill added, his eyes wide with greed as he stared at the gold.
Caleb smiled, letting them enjoy the victorious atmosphere before his mind snapped back to the logistics of his empire. The wealth was useless sitting in the dirt.
"Alright, that's enough standing around," Caleb ordered, gesturing to the pile. "We need to get this capital secured. I want it all stored, but we aren't loading this onto the backs of our warhorses. It's too heavy, and it'll slow us down. Go back down to Caliga Hall. Look for another luxury carriage that belonged to the Grays out in the back carriage house. They had several prepped for their escape. Bring one up here."
"Yes, Don McLaughlin," a few of the capos answered immediately. They mounted their horses and rode swiftly back down the ridge toward the occupied plantation.
Caleb and the gang used the downtime to clean the mud from the gold bars and secure the loose jewels into tighter leather pouches. About thirty minutes later, the capos returned. They drove a pristine, heavy duty enclosed carriage up the rocky incline, parking it right in the center of the camp.
Caleb had the capos meticulously move all of the riches into the carriage. The heavy gold bars were stacked on the floorboards, the cash was locked into the storage compartments, and all of these newly acquired stuffs were put safely inside, hidden from prying eyes.
Once the carriage was fully loaded and secured, Caleb turned his attention to his most trusted, heavily scarred lieutenant. He needed to ensure that the conquered territory did not fall into chaos the second he rode away.
"Vincenzo," Caleb called out.
The Italian Underboss stepped forward, his dark suit completely ruined by the day's violence, but his posture as rigid and disciplined as ever. "Yes, Don McLaughlin?"
"You are going to stay here," Caleb ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "I am leaving you with the bulk of the capos. You are to oversee everything in this county. You lock down Rhodes, you keep the Gray family confined to the manor, and you make sure the tobacco fields continue to operate under our new management."
Caleb locked eyes with Vincenzo, ensuring the timeline was explicitly understood.
"You hold this ground at least until the legal change of hands regarding the land deeds is officially done," Caleb instructed. "Pierre is working on the paperwork right now. Once I send a telegraph confirming that the ink is dry and the State of Lemoyne recognizes our corporate holding company as the absolute legal owners of this entire county, then you and the rest of the capos can return back to Saint Denis. Until then, you are the Don of Rhodes. If anyone challenges your authority, you put them in the ground."
Hearing that massive promotion of trust and authority, Vincenzo, of course, accepted the order instantly. A fierce, deeply proud fire burned in his dark eyes.
"It will be my absolute honor, Don McLaughlin," Vincenzo bowed his head deeply. "This county will not breathe without my permission. You have my solemn vow."
"I know I do," Caleb nodded.
After that vital strategic placement was entirely finalized, Caleb mounted his black Arabian horse. He had secured the wealth, decimated his enemies, and established a military occupation of the South. But his work was not done. He led the ride back to Saint Denis, signaling for Arthur, John, Sadie, Bill, Lenny, Sean, and a small, elite detachment of bodyguards to follow him. They fell into formation around the treasure laden carriage, serving as a highly lethal armed escort.
The ride back to the city was long, but the pace was steady. They left the dusty, red dirt roads of Scarlett Meadows behind, eventually crossing the sprawling, alligator-infested bridges of the bayou, until the towering, smog choked smokestacks and pristine cobblestone avenues of Saint Denis finally rose on the horizon.
They had things to do back at the city.
When they finally arrived back at the fortified, sprawling grounds of the Garden District mansion, the time was well past noon. The winter sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the pristine white gravel of the driveway.
The massive wrought iron gates swung open to receive the victorious warlord and his crew.
Caleb gave orders for the capos to immediately transfer the gold, the cash, and the jewels directly down into the reinforced, subterranean steel vault beneath the estate.
Leaving the logistics to his men, Caleb went to enter the mansion first. He handed his heavy, mud stained leather duster to a waiting servant in the grand foyer, unbuckled his gun belt, and handed over the heavy Sweeper submachine gun. He wanted to shed the aura of the battlefield before he saw her.
Caleb walked through the quiet, luxurious halls of his home, heading directly for the east wing. He pushed open the heavy oak doors of the private study.
He found Mary-Beth exactly where he hoped she would be. She was sitting at the massive mahogany desk, bathed in the warm, golden light of a stained glass reading lamp. She was in the middle of writing a new book, her dark hair pinned up elegantly, a delicate fountain pen flying furiously across a stack of crisp parchment.
The absolute second she heard the doors open and the heavy thud of his boots on the Persian rug, Mary-Beth stopped writing. She looked up, and when she saw him standing there, completely whole and alive, she was overwhelmingly happy.
She practically threw the expensive fountain pen onto the desk. She stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floorboards, and she ran across the study.
She threw her arms around his neck, going to hug him with a desperate, fierce affection that knocked the breath out of him. Caleb caught her effortlessly, wrapping his strong arms securely around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her expensive perfume, which instantly washed away the metallic stench of the morning's blood.
"You're back," Mary-Beth whispered, her voice trembling slightly with sheer relief. She pulled back just enough to frame his handsome face with her soft hands. Her dark eyes frantically scanned him, looking for any sign of injury. "Are you okay? Did you get shot? Tell me the truth, Caleb."
Caleb smiled, a warm, incredibly genuine expression that was reserved exclusively for her. He gently caught her wrists, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"I am perfectly fine, sweetheart," Caleb assured her, his voice a low, comforting hum. "I told you I would come back to you without a scratch, didn't I? Not a single bullet touched me." Mary-Beth let out a long, shuddering sigh, the unbearable tension of the last twenty four hours finally leaving her body. She rested her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, calm rhythm of his heartbeat.
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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: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 283,392 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 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 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: -