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Jan Hass

"You dirty pig, pay up or I'll make you pay!"

0 · 478 views · located in Dead Man's Gulch

a character in “Way Out West”, as played by crazygumbomb

Description

Given Name: Jan Hass

Nickname: Der Riese

Gender: Male

Age: 43

Good guy or bad guy?: Bad guy, definitely.

Position/occupation: owner of a bar(Silver spurs) and a small mining operation.

Personality: saying Jan is a shady midget bastard is the biggest understatement of your life.

Their is no low he won't stoop to, from petty theft from the poor, or paying bottom of the barrel wages to starving families for backbreaking work. He is greedy and inpatient, always taking shortcuts of all kinds at the expense of his wagemen, and treats his workers like trash. If he could pay them nothing and have them work day and night he would. Any attempt of his workers to rebel is met with extreme brutality.
He is quite hated in splitcreek, for both forcing several other shops to contend with his business methods, and treating his workers horribly. Even for such a public enemy, his has lots of connections both inside and outside of town, also knowing his way around some of the shadier residents. He also always happens to be where the evidence isn't, avoiding all cociqences with the law for his dubious acts. He will also send his men to deal for his more physical problems rather than handle it himself.
He is always on edge and has a flaming temper, taking offense from almost anything you say to him. The people he knows he can't intimidate he makes mutual allies with. He is also a strong leader and a efficient business man, owing both a bar and a small mining operation


Skills: Despite his short stature, his is good with a gun but prefers to hide behind his men and use fear tactics. He can read and write in both German and English and speaks in a german accent. While he is quick to anger, he is a efficient and brutal leader.

History: Little is known about his past before he arrived in America besides he came from germany, But the second he got of the boat his search for a better future began. After several weeks of wandering he heard of a small settlement not far from his location that was choc full of gold for panning. He quickly headed there and set up shop, rounding up immigrants to start a small mining camp. After several months of work and a handful of loans, he began to build his first bar in America. A couple of years later, he now owns a successful bar (not to mention gritty) bar and a union of about twenty guys down on their luck.

Courting anyone? Being courted?: Prefers the simple ways of the one night stand with a harlot.

Married?: Only in your dreams, ladies.

Appearance: The most striking part of Jans appearance is his height (his lack of it to be specific) standing at about only 5 feet and weighing in at 130 pounds, he is not of very big stature. He also bears small black beady eyes and and no hair on his face or his head.
Since he has gained a considerable amount of wealth in such a short time, he likes to wear finer cloths like suits and ties (he only has a few sets though).

So begins...

Jan Hass's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Morgan was still nursing his drink at the bar, quiet as you please. The man on the horse (he was fairly certain it was man), had taken off, though he (she? It was possible) seemed to have run into trouble down the street. He looked up at the ceiling as he heard a clatter and crash from upstairs. So far as he could remember, and he had a pretty decent memory, despite all he'd had to drink, he didn't recall there being any guests in the Silver Spur last night, which meant it must be the owner, Jan Hass.

And lord, how Morgan hated Jan Hass. Not that that was uncommon. Hass was a pretty hated man in Splitcreek. Greediest penny pincher you ever did meet, and mean to bet. Morgan shook his head as the short, pudgy man came rushing down the stairs, his beady eyes scanning the room. Dee-lightful. Hass was currently interrogating a clueless (and very, very drunk miner), who, rather than answer Hass, had decided to talk about how his wife left him and now all he had was his banjo. Really, the whole thing was very funny, but Morgan could tell Hass was getting fed up, and there was nothing worse than a fed-up Hass.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Morgan barked from his seat at the bar. "Some good-for-nothin' outlaw's passing through, that's all. So why don't you get back to bed, you drunken buffoon." Downing the last of his fourth and final beer, Morgan stood up from the bar, tipping his hat to the man. "Oh, and thanks for the beer."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Damian "Nomad" Kovacs Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"Sprich nicht mit mir, du verrückter Mann!" Jan growled in response to the foolish hermit. If it was any other day he would have thrown a flurry of insults at the kleine Scheißer, but he did not have the time or the patince today. What he had was a pulse pounding headache that shook his body with every heartbeat from last nights events, and a mountain of work to contend with. So long story short, he was not in the mood to argue or fight with any of these yokels today. That would have to wait till tonight at the card table.

Morgan thanked the bartender, stood up, and wandered out of the cool aired bar into the scorching hot desert only to be replaced by another lone wandering customer. It dawned on Jan for the first time that he should do the same, as he had work to do.

Sauntering out from the shaded bar filled with the melody of some slag trying to work the piano, Jan ventured out into the sunburnt and arid desert. The gunfight had long left this part of the small mining and goldpaning town an eerie tone of quiet, though you could still hear yelling and the thuds of hoofs beating the bone dry sand in the distance. The cowgirl stood slack jawed in the middle of the substitute road, forlorn by the yearning to be involved in such excitement.

Unhitching one of his privately owned horses and hopping on (after much climbing and effort) he speed off toward Stanleys point.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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The destination was a little south of stanleys point, but the ride was far from an easy and relaxing one. Especially for such a short one like Jan Hass, the horse more than once threatened to buck him off at high speeds into a trail of dust, and it didn't help that he was such that he was such a novice horse rider either. Each time he just barley clung to the saddle hoping for the worst of the wild to be over, as there were more than a few times he injured himself before falling of one of these infernal beasts. He should really invest in a passenger cart.

As he slowed to a trod not far from the mine he studied of the masses both mining and goldpaning surrounding what was left of river trying to strike it big. Most of the goldpanners were working alone, only able to provide a measly salary to hardly support themselves and their families. Most of the miners were all working together in a group, maybe around ten people. Jan prided himself for having one of the largest mining crew, at about twenty men all chipping away at the mine he personally called glücklich.

As he prodded by he was noticed by more than a few workers. Some glared at him, hoping that the simple act of hatred was enough to have him randomly combust in flames. Others were bold enough to throw raunchy, obscene insults and comments from far away for the purpose of being heard but not seen. It would be a understatement to say they hated him, but were also afraid of what he and his army of henchmen could do. Picking a fight with Hass could mean waking up in the middle of the desert with nothing but the shirt on your back if you were lucky. You don't want to know a about the people that weren't.

Slowly the mine entrance turned from a speck on the horizon to a crowd of workers surrounding said mine entrance.Why weren't they working? It wasn't a holiday, where they can just sit around and relax. As a matter of fact, there was never a holiday at glücklich. It was Needless to say he was furious.

"Why... Are... You... Men... Not... working! This is no holiday!" Jan bellowed at the top of his lungs. The large group of workers all stood still, staring at the ground and kicking the dust with their boots. Several seconds later they realized that the question in fact, was not rhetorical, and pushed one of of the smallest workers (Danny) forward.

"Well...uhhh..." The young man managed. He was scared out of his mind and sweating like a pig, all while being stared daggers by a very angry Hass. Finally he mustered enough courage to explain the situation." Well Bill sabotaged the mine. He blew up the main tunnel, stole a lot of gold ..." He stopped to gulp "...and made off with the loot."

"What..." Jan muttered. Those simple words let the workers know they were in serious trouble.

~~~

Several minutes later Hass was tuckered out from screaming, kicking, spiting and screaming in German. But he also had a plan.

"This is what we're gonna do..." The miners perked up and shuffled at the sound of the first coherent words in the last half hour. "We are gonna going to go grab weapons for all of us from blackburn... then we're gonna find this diebischen Bastard." The workers all nodded in agreement to the plan, but most were just happy that Hass calmed down.

Boarding their horses, they speed of toward the town and the gunsmith faster than you could blink. It was a race against time for Hass, and a race for their lives for the miners. In a matter of minutes they arrived, kicking up a storm into shops and bystanders right down the middle of main street. Hopping off his horse, Hass speed onto the deck and barged into the store.

"Blackburn..." He weezed, tired from his journey. "I need guns, and lots of them!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"This is more of a pesonal matter." He bluntly said, placing the rifle back in jennys arms and shooting her a stern glare."I think me and my men can handle and finance this on our own acord, thank you very much."

The last thing he needed at this point in time was Jenny butting her nose in on his own personal matters, and the fact was he was not just going after bill for his gold back. He was going to get revenge tonight. The bloody kind of revenge that involved someone getting killed for doing something very stupid, like blowing up a mine and stealing from their employer. If Jenny knew what he was going to do, she would try to stop him. Besides, law dogs goody-two-shoes like her and people like Jan never got along, so why even try. Plus, he always hated owing anyone anything.

"So Blackburn, you think you can whip up enough weaponry to arm all these men?" Hass said, gesturing to the mass of miners behind him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Darby O'Rourke Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Darby watched as the rider bore down on him, unimpressed, shouting over the ringing hoofbeats for him to clear the way. His eyebrow arched slightly and a slight smile appeared on his face, as he listened to her. If she had really wanted him to move, she should have shouted “Faugh a Ballagh!”, the Gaelic battle cry used by the Irish Brigade, which meant clear the way. Of course that would have meant she knew him in some way and he had never seen her before. Still, it was more than amusing to have someone shouting it at him in English.

However, that smile went away, as the lead projectile buried itself into the ground at his feet and the miner’s ears rang with the report of the shot. He dropped the reins of his mule, the leather cords falling to loop over his arm and began to pull the rifle from his shoulder, just as the horse turned away and sped down a gap between a pair of buildings, leaving him in a cloud of choking dust. Grunting with displeasure, he grounded the butt of his rifle and snatched the kepi from his head with his free hand. As he waved the battered hat about, trying to clear the dust from his face, a second rider appeared. A giant of a man, who couldn’t be anybody other then the local marshal. Without a word, he began gesturing towards the alley with his hat, waving the lawman on.

Forced to clear away a second cloud of dust, the ex-soldier slung his rifle, tugged his hat back into place and walked on. His mule followed along, placid as can be, now that the excitement had passed them by. He had three places to stop by on this trip into town. First was the bank, where he could exchange his collection of dust and nuggets for silver dollars. He wouldn’t have bothered but not everyone in town had a set of scales and it was hard to tip the girl at the saloon or the cathouse, with dust. The second was the Silver Spur, to wash the dust from his mouth. His final stop would be the general store in the morning, to get his supplies before heading back to his claim.

The bank was an easy stop in theory. One should simply have to walk inside and have their gold weighed and walk out with the correct amount of coin or bank notes (not that Darby would accept paper money, government or local bank issue). However, these banking types were sly and often tried to used extra weights to make the gold seem lighter then it was or crooked scales. You had to watch them closely or they’d take your money from out under your nose. Luckily, the teller in the bank today had been someone Darby had already had a...chat with about using unbalanced scales. However, his gold had to be weighed twice. The first time the weights had gotten knocked off, when the teller jumped at the sound of a gunshot His pockets lightly jiggling, the miner lead his yet unburdened mule over to the Silver Spur, ignoring the body laying in the street.

“You be a good creature Eletta” Darby whispered, lightly stroking the mule’s muzzle, trying to sooth her, after tying the reins to the hitching post. Some great band of men had just come riding into town, all of them following the short German, who ran the Silver Spur and own one of the largest mines in the area. Greedy little penny-pincher, the man could make a coin squeal before he was done with it. He half wondered what could make him so ornery, that he’d be willing to buy guns for the poor dumb fools who worked for him? Well, there wasn’t any reason to inquire about it, unless there was money involved.

He adjusted the strap to his rifle, as he stepped towards the door but turned back to the street. When he had first arrived in this town, he would have left the firearm along the empty bags on the back of his beast, along with the ammunition in his pockets. Nowadays though, someone would steal it. Hell, they’d try to steal his mule, save for the fact she liked to kick strangers. Besides, it wasn’t like everyone else in these parts didn’t have a pistol hanging off their hips. His gun would just be a bit more plain to see.

“Something personal” called the ex-soldier, in a reasonable friendly voice, “Mr. Hass or somethin that should concern all of us workin the river? If its somethin like that, I’m willin to help.”

His piece said, he turn back to the door of the saloon and stepped inside. Look around in a quick manner, he took a seat at an empty table and waited for one of the girls to come over.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Twisty
Jethro was about halfway through his book when he heard a drunken mumbling followed by Jenny's voice: "My Ma' used to tell me I should never give the first punch... But I sure as hell will give the last punch, you damn fool." When he looked up the first thing he saw was Jenny punching the drunk so hard that Jethro almost expected the mans head to come of. The drunk reached for his gun but was dead before he reached it, Jethro was so chocked by how quickly that one insult had escalated that he didn't even notice that Jenny was now walking towards him and taking a seat next to him.
"I find it funny how you just watched me get attacked, and you just sit here drinkin?" She chuckled. He put down the book and stared at her. "Now what the hell was that for!" he exclaimed, pointing at the, now dead, drunk. "Attacked! Is that what you call being insulted?! I mean, i know you got an itch to use all that hardware your carrying around but you don´t have to go shoot the first drunken lowlife that throws a insult at you! He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

He looked back at the street and noticed that Morgan was running towards the dead drunk, probably hoping that he was still alive and not beyond rescue.
"I´m reporting you to the Marshal, seeing as the Sheriff is nowhere to be found" he said looking back at Jenny, now a bit calmer. He stood up, looking around for the Marshal, not seeing him anywhere he turned to Morgan. "Hey Doc! Have you seen the Sentinel? I am pretty sure that he´d want to know bout this."
Jethro turned back to the table and finished his drink. "Damn, what next? Someone´s gonna rob the Silver spur in broad daylight?" He said to himself, but then realized that that wouldn't be too surprising, he sighed.

Not long after a large group of miners lead by Jan Hass came riding down the street, stopping outside his shop. Hass was furious and was speeding towards him, looking like he could kill a man. Which is probably why he was there, Jethro thought, to get weapons so he could kill someone.
"Blackburn... I need guns, and lots of them!" He said, exhausted from the ride.
"Well your not getting any, and before you start yellin´ at me I´m gonna tell you why. First of all i don´t have enough to arm all of those boys you got there, and secondly I got a gut fellin´that your not going hunting game with twenty men on horseback, unless you hunt men for sport which i hardly think is legal, Mr. Hass."
He stared Hass in the eyes and made it clear that he wouldn't budge.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"We... I mean Mr. Blackburn..." Hass tried to calm himself down and smooth over his attitude. He had to convince him to give him some weapons, or this will get a lot more difficult.

"Don't be so irrational. I may not seam of the purest desires, but I speak the truth when I say that I have nothing but the best intentions. I mean, the man I'm huntin, hes dangerous. So far he stole both horses and a large sum of gold, also blowing up my mine in the process. He could have killed someone! Now I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my rudeness, and help me out in my dire situation." He could see himself spreading a lot more butter on this guy later on.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Twisty
It seamed like Jethro had made his point, Hass was now calming down and trying to convince him that that he had a good reason to be hunting a man.
"Don't be so irrational. I may not seam of the purest desires, but I speak the truth when I say that I have nothing but the best intentions. I mean, the man I'm huntin, hes dangerous. So far he stole both horses and a large sum of gold, also blowing up my mine in the process. He could have killed someone! Now I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my rudeness, and help me out in my dire situation."
Although he seemed to be telling the truth, Jethro didn't trust the man and wasn't going to help him arm a angry mob of miners just like that. He sat down in his chair again.
"Now thats some story Mr Hass, but how do i know you tellin the truth? And even if you are, I can´t help you arm a large, angry mob of miners with a good conscience without the Sheriff or at least the Marshals approval."

Jenny, who had tried getting in on Hass´s manhunt climbed down from her horse and sat down beside him.
"If i didn't shoot the rascal there and then, I'd either be dead or raped. You won't turn me in, Black. Please, Jethro. I can't go to jail. Who'll take care of the drunks and rapists? The lawmen and marshal aint doin' nothin' about it. And the sheriff doesn't do anythin'.. I'm a vigilante, Jeth." She said with sad eyes, but Jethro saw right through her act.
"Your not follin me with those puppy eyes Bonnie. Now I´never said I was turnin you in, that´s the lawmen´s job, but i´am going to tell my side of the story to the Marshal when he gets here." "Now you two just calm down, take a seat and wait for the Marshal to get here, Okay?" He said looking at both Hass and Jenny, but then turned back to Jenny. "And you know, sayin that you had to shoot him dead is horse crap. We both know that you could have held him at gunpoint or at the very least shot him in the foot, hell with you aim you probably could have shot the gun right out of his hands from that distance." He said with disappointed and tired sigh.
Now he just had to hope that Morgan would get back with the Marshal would get there soon so they could have this sorted out and he could go drink away todays events at the Silver spur, or possibly another saloon depending on how the deal with Jan Hass went.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Wildcat Kate Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone
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#, as written by Flexar
Alex smashed into Kate like a cannonball, knocking her from her newly stolen horse's saddle into the dirt path. She tried to grab her distant revolver, but did so in vain. Alex kicked it away to make it even harder for her to grab it and shoot him. He kneed her in the stomach, hopefully winding her so she couldn't thrash about any more. While she was pinned down, Alex pulled a coil of rope from his duster coat with which he bound Kate's hands and feet.
"Not so tough now, are you?" Alex chuckled before lighting yet another cigarette and proceeding to smoke it, "You're coming with me back to Splitcreek, I hope you don't mind spending a few years in the cells."
With that, Alex hoisted her up onto the back of Gale, mounted him, then slowly rode back to Splitcreek, making sure not to let Kate fall off Gale's rump.

Upon arriving back at Splitcreek, an appalling scene presented itself to Alex. Doc was dragging a dead man into his office, Jenny was looking like she had just seen a ghost and was pleading with Jethro and Hass was present and backed by a group of miners. Alex dismounted Gale, spat his cigarette into the dirt, ground it up and then walked over to the scene. These were truly dark days for Splitcreek.
"Alright then, what's happened?" Alex sighed, "I want to know exactly what happened, if any of you lie I'll make sure you're given a harsh punishment."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"I was robbed! The dieb blew up my mine and stole my gold! Clearly illegal! And Jethro here thinks its not right to go get justice!" The reappearance of the deputy has got Jan all rowled up again. There was nothing that could stop him from going after Bill, he knew that. But these guy could severely hinder his progress. Bill could be in another state by the time he could convince Jethro to give him he weapons.

Calming himself again, he decided it would be best if he could prove that he was wronged. Then the deputy couldn't deny him the right to go get justice if he had proof.

"Now I know that you don't exactly trust me. I know that. But for gods sakes I have proof! Just ride to my mine to me and I'll show that he blew it to bits and stole all the gold!" Slowly he gestured to the door with a steady hand.

"so, shall we Alex?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Bonnie Bohannon Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait:
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Bonnie watched the scene unfold from the sheriffs doorway, she had no idea where Alex was and with him being the only person who could reassemble a lawman in this town, chaos could quickly follow this situation. Staring down the street, the blonde smiled upon seeing the man in question re-enter the town,squinting in the bright sun she was able to make out a figure bound over the rump of his horse, as they got closer Bonnie could see that it was in fact a woman. A feeling of relief washed over her as Alex dismounted his horse and stalked into the blacksmiths, hopefully he would be able to defuse the situation, surely this town had seen enough death for one day.

Leaving the relative safety of the sheriffs office, Bonnie stopped dead when she saw the prisoner was no longer bound on the marshals horse, she looked around frantically but the girl was nowhere to be seen "damn" she cussed lightly. Looking towards the group of rattled miners the blonde bit her lip, she didn't particularly fancy walking through the middle of that group but the marshal had to know about his prisoner.

Pushing her way through the crowd she ignored the leers and grabs, dirty ole miners never did have any manners, scowling she swatted hands away from her body before breaking through and stepped up onto the boardwalk and through into the building. Taking in the scene she saw Jethro sat listening to the situation, Jan Hass looking as if he was about to explode with anger and Jenny looking a little bit scared.

"Excuse me, Marshal?" her soft southern voice called out apprehensively, she knew for sure she was interrupting something but she figured Alex would like to know that his prisoner was no longer there.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Twisty
Jethro had been sitting quietly in his chair and thinking through what had happened while Jenny and Hass had both been trying to tell their story's to the Marshal and when they where done he looked to Alex.
"She´s tellin the truth, Sentinel. Although i don´t think killing him was necessary, it all happened very quickly and she probably just acted on instinct when she shot him." He sighed. "Look, I´m not tellin you to let her of the hook completely, but I don´t think puttin her behind bars for any longer than a day is necessary."
He was still somewhat angry over what she had done but he realized that it wasn't something she should spend any longer that one or two days in jail for.

"And just so you know i´m leaving it up to you whether I should arm Mr Hass´s little mob over there or not." He nodded towards the large group of miners that where still standing outside his shop. "Because I´m not going to sell them any weapons unless you think that they arn´t gonna go breakin the law."
He stood up and turned to go inside and fetch the bottle of whiskey that he had left on a table next to the open door, asking the others: "Any of you who want a drink?" as he did so.
He kept his voice down as he said it to make sure that none of the miners heard him because he feared that if they found out that he had whiskey they would all come begging for a glass, they didn't look like they could afford any for them selfs and Jethro didn't have nearly enough for even half of them.
He stood in the doorway looking at the others waiting for a response..

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Bonnie Bohannon Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait:
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(Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone played by GM Luv-is-a-Bug)

Alex looked from one face to the other, doing his best to keep his cool. Jenny had her big puppy dog eyes turned on him, and here was Hass looking mad enough to swallow a horn toad backwards. Jethro, ever reasonable, sat quietly by, his eyes fixed on the marshal. The Sentinel passed a hand over his tired face, trying to remember the day when the quiet little mining town had gone to hell. When had shootings and robbery become the norm? And where were his deputies- the squeaky clean young men marching around, ready to risk their lives for glory or honor, or whatever it was that brought people out West these days? Nowhere. It was just him and the sheriff, and they couldn't save the town between the two of them. It was all he could do to clean up the messes he stumbled upon, never mind being able to prevent them.

And now this. He took a long breath, thoughtfully resettling his Stetson on his head before beginning his speech. He started with Jenny, sighing as he turned to her pleading face. "Now Jenny, I know you're looking to help, but it ain't no use to nobody for you to go shooting people in the street. If you have a problem, you're to report it to me or the sheriff, understand? I realize you're sorry, but it ain't proper for me to let you walk on this one. I'm afraid you're gonna have to come down to the jail with me."

"And as for you," he said, turning his attention to Hass, "there's no way I can authorize that kind of action; I don't care what he's done. You're entitled to justice, Hass, and the town'll be sure you get it, but it won't be with a man-hunt across the state. Soon as I get Jenny and that bandit I dragged in to jail, I'll ride out myself. As for the guns...well, that's up to Blackburn. It's his business, and his decision. But if I hear you've been hunting this fellow, you'll be sorry. You're not the only one with friends in high places. And another thing-"

He started to remind Hass of the last time he'd messed with Splitcreek's law, but the soft, sweet voice of Bonnie reached his ears. He turned to the school teacher, his face going red as she informed him of Kate's escape. "Aw hell," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking back towards his mount. "Looks like I'll be heading out sooner than planned, Hass!" he called over his shoulder, his annoyance evident.

Swinging into Gale's saddle, he spurred the horse forward and headed out of town, the tail of his duster flapping behind him. It seemed the fun was only just beginning.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Twisty
Jethro stood in the doorway, looking at his empty whiskey glass thinking about what the Marshall had said, that it was his decision whether Hass would get his guns or not. He looked up at the miners, if he didn't arm the men Hass would probably send them out in the desert after the man with nothing but knifes and rocks, he thought.
"Damn it." he mumbled and walked back outside, putting down his glass on the table. "Hass, could you come with me?" He walked inside his shop and stepped behind the counter, opening a storage cabinet behind it and taking out three Winchester repeaters and putting them on the counter. They where all very worn and one even had a big chunk of wood missing from the stock that had been repaired by the previous owner with a small strip of metal that had been crudely bolted over the gap.

"Now, I still won´t arm all of your men but I can sell you these. They are, as you can see, in a pretty bad condition and won´t shoot straight but I don´t think that will be a problem since I doubt that your miners out there can hit anything anyway." He picked up a cigar from one of the drawers on the counter and lit it.
"I also want you to know that if I find out that you went out there on that man hunt of yours even though the Marshall told you not to, I will be taking these back and you won´t be getting your money back." He paused to make sure the German took him seriously.
"Speaking of money, I´ll sell ya these for.. hmm, should we say fifty dollars?" He took the cigar out of his mouth.
"That is, if you still want em´."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Jenny Clyde Character Portrait: Alex "The Sentinel" Johnstone Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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He only shook his head in mock disappointment and disgust as Alex rode of after the escaped bandit. In truth he was actually dieing from laughter on the inside and choking back a grin from ear to ear, needless to say not very well. Not only did that täuschen let the thief get away, but he forgot to put jenny in jail! He couldn't even manage one prisoner, let alone catch one with a ten mile head start! He was definitely out of his league at splitcreek.

Turning his attention to Blackburn, he watched intently as the blacksmith tried to strike up a deal.

"Damn it." he groaned, waddling back outside and placed his glass firmly on a table. "Hass, could you come with me?" He stumbled back inside the shop and sidestepped behind the counter, swinging open a storage cabinet behind it. Slowly he brandished three Winchester repeaters and put them on the counter. They where beaten and broken and one even had half the goddamn stock missing.

"Now, I still won´t arm all of your men but I can sell you these. They are, as you can see, in a pretty bad condition and won´t shoot straight but I don´t think that will be a problem since I doubt that your miners out there can hit anything anyway." He fingered a cigar a big fat cigar and lit it with a grimy old match.
"I also want you to know that if I find out that you went out there on that man hunt of yours even though the Marshall told you not to, I will be taking these back and you won´t be getting your money back." He paused for effect, surely to make a point of not performing said manhunt. Fat chance.
"Speaking of money, I´ll sell ya these for.. hmm, should we say fifty dollars?" He took the cigar out of his mouth.
"That is, if you still want em´."

"What... is this?" He said eyeing the terrible deal that lay in front of him on the counter. He knew that he didn't have the best guns and couldn't arm all the miners, but this was one of the worst offers he ever seen, and hes seen some bad deals.

Simply taking a deep breath, he wandered outside to the crowd of confused miners. He was trying to hide his obvious rage, needless to say he wasn't doing a very good job. He had other plans already in his mind on how to get weapons to hunt bill, but that didn't stop him from being enraged by such a letdown. No matter. He would find other gunsmiths to sell him guns. Blackburn just slowed him down.

Deep in thought, he didn't see the figures in the distance speeding toward him...

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Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Twisty
Jethro smiled as Hass turned around and stormed out of his shop and as soon as he knew that the angry little German couldn't hear him he started to chuckle as he turned around to put the broken rifles back in their cabinet. "I knew these would come in handy." He mumbled with a smile and proceeded with locking it and the other cabinets behind the counter.
With Hass finally dealt with and the whole situation seemingly over he could finally relax, close for the night and head for the saloon, where he would unavoidably see Hass again. The thought made his smile even larger and he started to whistle while he was cleaning up and putting away all his tools. There was something with seeing (and making) the German angry that he found funny and it didn't help Hass that getting him pissed seemed to be one of the most effective ways of getting him to leave his store.
Jethro was locking away his tools when he heard gunshots further up the main street. "Shit. I´m not getting involved this time." He muttered to himself and continued with locking up the tools and the back door, he grabbed his hat and made a quick look around the shop to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear.
He stepped outside, locking the door behind him and started walking up the main street towards the Silver spur, still whistling.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Richard Jones Bell Character Portrait: Jethro "Black" Blackburn Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Just as Hasses feet touched the ground outside the rundown blacksmithing store, three distant figures speed into town dragging some pour soul through the sand and dirt. Now usually such a thing would never daunt nor shake hass on normal circumstances, if you could call it that. But this was far from the normal happenings in splitcreek. For it was none other than bill on the passenger side of the rope.

The men on horses came speeding through main street, firing off their guns and shaking the town to its very core. The men appeared to be a rowdy bunch, with little disregard for human life.

As they reached the large group of miners, one of them beckoned "‘We gut' a message to Mista' Hass!'' before cutting bill loose and leaving him prone in the dust. Both the miners and everyone else anywhere near blackburns store stared as the band of roughriders fired off several more shots before dashing down the last stretch of road and then breaking off in different directions.

Hass rushed as his legs could carry him toward the supposed dead man lying in the sand. It was bill alright. Except for the eyes, or the lack of eyes. He was also beaten up pretty bad. Serves him right.

"Wheres my gold you bastard!" Hass growled, flipping him over and patting him down. But he couldn't find anything. No gold more importantly. hass searched this way and that, even the sand surrounding him searching for a clue. Then something caught his eye; A letter. Ripping it off bills shirt and tearing it open, he was not pleased with the contents to say the least. The note read:

"To Mr. Jan Hass
It has come to my notice that I am in possession of a quite large amount of gold.
You see I am the kind of man who can't walk into a town and exchange an amount as large as this.
But I won't give it back for free. Like yourself I'm a businessman and I hope we can make some kind of deal.
I am in need of a few easy to get items for a man like yourself. But hard to get for someone like me.
What I need is the following:

15 bottles of whiskey or anything with the same sting.
3 kegs of beer.
Ammunition for colt six-shooters and Winchester rifles.
3 cartons of cigarettes

Your former worker has informed me that you are good for it. Don't try to bargain with me.
You'll come alone to Buzzard's Bluff, real charming place I hear with the goods I asked for.
My men will wait for you there and when they can verify that you ain't trying to cheat us
they will reveal the location of your gold. If they die, I will know and we will hunt your German
ass down and hang you from your balls, excuse my language .

Regards R.J Bell"

"That... That bastard!" He screamed. It was needless to say he was not having good luck today. First, bill blew up his mine and stole his gold. Then, Jethro refuses to sell him weapons. Now, this. It was getting hard to cope these days.

"Wheres! My! Gold!" He was now resorting to shaking and beating the near dead man in attempts to interrogate him while every one watched. To bad bill was not capable of coherent language, much to Hasses chagrin. So He settled to sitting in the dust repeating the same phrase into the palm of his hands.

"Wheres my gold, wheres my gold, wheres my gold..."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Jack Westfield Character Portrait: Kain Hadwin Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Morgan was absorbed in his work, his hands going from the bucket to the man and back again. He knew it was hopeless, knew there was no point in wiping away blood that came up fresh a minute later, but he couldn't help himself. Something kept his arms pumping in their mechanic way, and he busied himself wringing out the blood-soaked rag, tending his patient in the dutiful, tireless way he'd been trained. It was instinct- instinct to crouch over this bloody body, instinct to stop and feel for the weak pulse running under the dark skin.

Out of nowhere came the angry shouts of Hass, and the stout German appeared on the scene, shouldering his way past Morgan and grabbing Bill's bloody body. He had no concern for the beaten man, no pity for the gouged face or broken limbs. He was a vicious thing, his grubby little fingers clawing and snatching and grabbing for what was his. Upon finding the letter he roared to the sky and descended on Bill, beating the already senseless man. Morgan lunged for him, wrapping his arms around the man's compact frame and effectively pinning his arms to his sides. He tossed Hass aside, his eyes wide and unblinking as crumpled to his knees, staring at the broken creature before him.

He looked at Bill as if in a trance, his hands shaking at his sides. From some distant place Jack's quiet voice reached his ears, informing him of his defeat. Westfield was right. There wasn't anything he could do. There was never anything he could do, it seemed. So many hours wasted. So many men wasted. For greed or for revenge or for hate, it didn't matter.

He stared at his bloody hands, now folded neatly in his lap. He would never wash his hands of the blood of Splitcreek. It was a dark and ugly stain, and the sight of it made him wretch. He had to get out of here. Another voice, low and grave, snapped him from his dazed state, and he turned to look up at the sheriff. What had happened? Suddenly he couldn't remember. There was blood. It was all over him.

"I...Hass..." he sighed, took a breath. Slowly, he got to his feet, turning his back on the dying man. "Hass is your man, Sheriff. I didn't see it happen. I'm just here to clean up the mess," he said, his eyes drifting to his bloody hands once more.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Halley Quinn Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Damian "Nomad" Kovacs Character Portrait: Richard Jones Bell Character Portrait: Samuel MacTaggart Character Portrait:
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The man looked down at Halley, as she looked up at the seemingly giant man atop the horse. Halley was offered a rather big hand, that belonged to the Marshall. She put her small petite hand in his and was lifted up onto the horses rear. His horse seemed rather small and a bit old compared to other horses she'd seen, but nevertheless, she did not complain about the random act of kindness she had been given by the town's new Marshall. She watched from the seat in the saddle, as the man dismounted and untied a mat and tied it back onto the rear end of the horse. It looked like a little make shift saddle fit for a lady of her size. She scooted back from the saddle and onto the seat as Samuel mounted up again on the steed.

As they rode off through the desert back to town, Samuel talked about how his sister looked liked herself a bit. Halley smiled at how kind and sweet the man seemed. She liked that and thought he would be the hero in town, even though he might risk his life for the safety and well being of others, being the Marshall and all, but it was comforting to know that, maybe the next time, a ruthless gang rides into town, they won't leave without a warning. She giggled softly at the Marshall's remark about the saddle and replied over the hooves of the horse, "It's quite alright, Mr. Marshall sir, it suits me just fine, thank ya." She smiled even though she knew he very well, could not see it, but gave him one all the same.

Halley looked out onto the horizon, looking for any sign of anything that might tell her where the hideout to the Bell Gang was. She was always blind folded, from when she had entered and exited their camp site. Even if she knew where the camp site was, she knew better than to tell anyone. She knew from experience that if she said to any type of law enforcement the whereabouts of their location. They would send whoever they could on a manhunt for her, kill her or do worse, in cold blood and revenge for her big mouth. She kept her mouth shut for most of the ride and listened intently to the Marshall make small talk.

As they got to the town, the Marshall began saying, "We'll be in town shortly Miss. I'll be dropping you by the Silver Spur, good place for a hot meal and a clean bed. If you haven't the funds for tonight theres a good looking fella what tends the bar down there name of Jack Westfield. He's a good man tell him to put whatever you need on my credit and I'll take care of it come tomorrow, I've some more business too attend." She smiled and was touched at how kind this man was.

She gave him a small squeeze of a hug and said, "Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Marshall. It's mighty kind of ya." She couldn't stop smiling at how nice he was. 'He is going to be a great Marshall, perfect for this town.' Halley thought as he rode up to the front of the Silver Spur. He dismounted and lifted her off his horse, placing her down on the ground softly.

"You stay safe now little Miss, you need anything you come for me or Sheriff Hadwin, we'll keep in touch." He said firmly with a smile. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek quickly and replied, "I promise I'll try, Sir. And thank ya for the ride too. I'll see you soon Mr. Marshall." She smiled and made her way up the steps and into the saloon, as Samuel rode off to carry out his many new duties.

Halley kept her head down avoiding everyone's eyes in the saloon, blushing wildly from her embarrassment of his apparel. She darted into her room. And changed throwing her men's clothes onto the bed and changing into her dress. She let out a sigh of relief and flopped on the bed, relieved to be safe and sound in the saloon again, and in her normal clothes. Halley was surprisingly looking forward to be resuming her work in the Saloon. She put on her shoes, and fixed herself up to be presentable once more. She opened the door and went out into the saloon.

Halley looked around for her boss and saw him and a doctor, tending to the poor, nearly dead man, with his eyes and tongue cut out. She shuddered thinking that that could have been her. She couldn't believe that Mr. Bell would do that to him, but then again men like him and his gang were very unpredictable, there was no telling what was going on in their head.

Halley looked around again looking for the man, who went by the name of Damian. He had tried to save her, but she didn't want him to get hurt or she herself injured because he tried to take on Williams. She felt bad and knew that he thought that she was probably dead by now. She went to work and waited on a table of drunks, and thought that maybe she'd see Damian again in the Saloon, then she could give him a drink on the house, for trying to help her out.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan "Doc" Crowe Character Portrait: Jan Hass Character Portrait: Kain Hadwin Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Hass was tossed away like a ragdoll by the good doctor himself before he could pry anything out of bill besides gibberish. As soon as Hass was out of arms reach, the doctor returned to tending to the near-dead and mortally wounded man. Not that it would have made a difference. Bill was without eyes and a tongue, not to mention he was bleeding out faster than the flow could possibly stopped. He was just easing him to death.

"You'd do better to save the water for your big mouth, and with your ass with the dish rag, doc-tor..." Hass spat. He despised the doctor, and he knew the feeling was mutual. The bastard hated him since day one, but at least hass had good reasoning. The "good doctor" thought himself better than jan, and always acted so.

"Or maybe you should just pour yourself another drink, and use your own piss on this...this" Jan stopped in his tracks.He could practically smell him as he heard the all too familiar clack click of spurs. Jans head bolted around to meet the sheriff with a steely gaze just as he aproached.He began questioning morgan, but Jan couldn't focus, he could just see thier lips moving back and forth, back and forth.

With all his leftover strength hass raised himself to his knees and equipped his sarcastic tone." Well guess who decided to show up for the party casually late; one else then the patron saint, the knight in shining armor, Sheriff Kain Hadwin everyone!" Was all he could muster, his throat was dry, dryer than the evening desert that encompassed them.

"Hey, would you mind explaining this to me?" He said in a mock innocent tone before gesturing to the motionless body lieing in the sand.