Butchers Of Blackwater Part One: Fire And Brimstone

pretty visitors

Atop the hill we could spot that the nearest town was a place called pantera. Small place with a stable and a saloon, but no gunsmith. First thing we had to do was refresh ourselves, so we walked into the saloon to greet the locals and have a few drinks. We ordered a few whiskeys and sat down to talk.

"So we've got liquor and horses but no guns or ammunition. At least that's two things checked off our list." Colt said "someone around her must know someone who sells guns, some of the people here are armed to the teeth" I replied. "Well maybe they're just passing through" jason added. This was pissing me off, we were so close to the end I could taste it.

"How are you men doing this evening" a local walked over to our table as if he had something to share. "We're just fine, leave us alone" I said trying to shoo him away "heard you were looking for guns" he continued "do we know you friend?" I questioned him "you don't have to know me friend, all you have to know is that I can help you" he said putting his hands on the table and leaning in. Me and the others looked at eachother and decided that we'd hear him out.

We stepped outside to talk to gentleman.
"I can get you what you need friends. But we don't normally sell to strangers here." We followed him to a celler full of rifles revolvers and bullets, there were two others inside, one behind a counter and the other leaning on a wall. "So" he continued "you and your friends will have to pay the visitors tax" he grinned "yeah? And how much is that?" I said

"Just all the money in your pockets, and we might give you a few revolvers" he smirked "That's bullshit, I'm from this goddamn country!" I shouted "eh! You might as well be American; the way you dress, amigo"

"Fuck this"
Jason drew his shotgun while me and Colt stood with fully extended arms pistols in hand. "I'm not paying some stupid visitors fine, this was not the warm welcome I expected you dirty low down cheap bastards, I appreciate a good scam when I see one but this, this is just plain lazy and stupid. So I'm gonna blow your heads off and take everything I can carry out of this dank little hole you somehow call a business. I'd leave you in the sun to rot but you people wouldn't make good enough food for the vultures, nor meat for the worms." I pull the finger on my trigger and the bastards ceased to exist.

"Take whatever you can carry. We'll buy some horses and throw the rest on our saddles, wrap em in a blanket."

We walked out as flies start to gather round the corpses like pigs in a trough. Wrapped in a blanket and over my shoulder sat at least half a dozen guns. Quite a bit of money in their too. we were walking to the stables to buy a few horses. We had enough for at least three horses.

Inside the stable a friendly old moustached man greeted us. "Hello, friends. Quite the armoury you have on your backs there." He was a warm fellow. Reminded me of home. "We have plenty of money too, senor" I replied. "Ah a young man who still has respect for his elders. A rare thing indeed amigo."

He showed us the horses he had in the stables and there were some fine ones indeed. I picked out a lusitano with a dappled buckskin coat, with a few spots and blemishes, dark circles round the eyes, black mane and tail. I named him el craneo. In English it means deaths head.

Colt picked an andalusian with an off white coat slightly pink some would say. He named it nuts. Strong horse; reliable.

And Jason picked a white shire. A large work horse, called it the lad.

After a hefty discount and some convincing we manged to actually have some money left after the transaction. "Which way to Blackwater?" I asked atop my new companion. "South"

Off we went, on a mission for revenge. Never to return as the people we were.

The journey was long and hot except for nights when the desert would cool down and we'd gaze upon the stars.
We were only travelling for a day or so until we reached the outskirts of Blackwater. I great wooden wall enclosed its residents. Riding in you could hear music and shouting coming from the bigger saloon in the town while the smaller one stood silent and cold. The rest of the town seemed empty apart from a few people sitting on porches. The saloon was so busy there was no room to even hitch our horses. We hitched them outside the gunsmiths.

Inside the saloon waited my vengeance and I was ready to take it. I could feel it in my gut. We were close to the end.