Feeling Lucky

Disclaimer: I do not own magic: the gathering, any similarities to other story lines are purely coincidental.
Do NOT copy this. If you want to you MUST contact me to gain permission.


Prologue
Saloons to the left, brothels to the rights and in between the two stands two mages. Their cowboy hats firmly positioned. Their right hands on their gun, thier left hand charging mana. As the clock of the wooden make-shift church starts it's move toward the hour the two combatants ready themselves. The clock strike the 6th hour. The first mage, with unnatural speed pulls his gun and rips a whole through his opponent; right through his chest. Deceit! that was no his combatant. Merely a soul echo for his protection. Bursting through the spirited apparition the cowmage puts several holes in his combatant. The duel is over. The dust settles from the man's cadaver, and the now gasping crowd go back to their business.

Here follow the story of a lone cowmage, in Feeling Lucky experience Wild West Magic.


Chapter One - This here be my town
"They've been shooting again father" mumbled a small boy emerging from the cover of an overturned table. Although protected by several panes of glass and steel lattice-work the table always seemed more protective to him. Although only 10 the boy was working for his father in the largest saloon in town. It meant his keep and good food, and education. He had learnt mathematical skills fairly early one and was given the job of taking money; to small to reach any of the alcohol at this stage in his life. He'd been spared boring tasks, like sweeping the floor, as his father had acquired a breeding pair of kobolds and had managed to use them for such pitiless things.

The boy's father was a man called Hukane. Once known for his skill with the gun, and the skill of his magical arts. His flare for chemistry had led him to a rather profitable business in saloons. Hukane was happy for the most part, every so often he would trip on a kobold and curse at the top of his voice, but he had plenty of business. His brother, the more stubborn and less magic-inclined Rane, ran the brothel across the mud-track that didn't sell drinks. This meant one of two things: both men had plenty of business and most of the time their customers were happy.

Hukane always had a customer that was troublesome. Not noisy, rowdy or a trouble maker but difficult to understand. He was a cowmage, and walking in from his recent victory outside, it was surprising to not see the smugness that he always seems to have. This time he was more solemn, head hung low and almost seeming to weep. Hukane's skills in communication would best serve him now. "Anything I can get ya, Jeron? First round on the house", this polite voice was comforting, but rather overly enthusiastic. Although apparently saddened, Jeron was not impolite, "Just some whisky, and put a little of your spark in it for me please". This request ensured Hukane's fears, and banished his doubt about Jeron's depression.

Atmospheric pressures came upon the saloons customers. It was turnover time in the brothel, and all new what that meant. An influx of a band of men, merry on their own delights and demanding as ever. The waitresses went into the back room, as not be frisked by the rowdy lot. The existing customers were invited to the more extravagant upstairs of the saloon. The only one who wanted to stay was Jeron.


Well that's it for the first chapter. Please read and review, your feedback can make it better. Any suggestions would be much appreciated.
- Lu Chao