So this was done for a writing contest for a Harry Potter rpg community Last Resort(.). his is what happened when all my muses decided they wanted to come out to play. Charries are mine and all that jazz. Don't own Harry potter even though I'd like too :D
On one's first glimpse of the small bedroom, one would think that there was nothing overly special about it. A bed was pushed against the far wall; to the right of it was a nightstand, with an open book haphazardly sprawled across its rough wooden surface. At the foot of the bed was a small bookshelf, overfilled with books on almost everything imaginable and a chest used to store clothing and anything else that needed storing. The only unusual thing about the room itself upon entering was the soft yellowish glow coming from underneath the bed.
Teague grinned as he took a running start and dove head first under the bed. Hopefully Subaru had transfigured some stairs or something so he'd have something to slide down as he made his awesome entrance to the coolest under-the-bed fortress he'd ever been in. As per usual Teague had underestimated Subaru's loathing of transfiguration and dropped the 4 feet to the ground, catching his shoulder on the desk everyone was apparently using as an impromptu ladder. Once he righted himself, he smiled sheepishly at the others and offered a small wave before muttering a 'Yo!' in greeting.
The fortress Subaru had constructed was just that, a veritable small fortress of comfort. The place was big enough to hold 7-8 adults quite comfortable. There were various chairs, furs, pillows and cushions scattered about. Most of the cushions and furs were underneath Soren's sprawled out form. The Garou was looking quite at home amongst them as he chewed on a stick of jerky. A hammock swayed gently currently occupied by very relaxed looking Dresden, took up one corner of the fort. There were also a couple desks, and some bookshelves; books overflowing from the shelves to the floor, scattered all around with Subaru and Julian somehow in the middle of them all playing a game of chess. Then of course, there was the Holy Grail in Teague's opinion, a liquor cabinet that would rival any bartenders' selection. Not that that had stopped Bast from grabbing a chair that he could comfortably recline in while sampling various items to help 'hone' his bartending skills. How a kid of Subaru's age had managed to get all this stuff and conceal it under his bed was a mystery all on its own (considering the kid couldn't pull of a proper transfiguration if his life depended on it); one he looked forward to prying out of the Slytherin at some point. But for now it was time to just 'chill' as the muggles put it. He crawled over to the cabinet and grabbed a beer from one of the small bar fridges and then proceeded to grab some cushion space near Soren.
"So how was everyone's day?" Teague queried the group of misfits. He chuckled at the boys non-committal grunts as they continued to play their chess game. By the look on Julian's face it was apparent that he was losing and the game would finish soon. Dresden managed a small smile and motioned to his hammock. Obviously the guy hadn't done anything other than hang out here for the past few days. Soren managed a soft growl before he pulled the jerky from between his teeth, "I got the ok on my character sheet today so that means I can do stuff….eventually. Unlike that lazy bastard over there, the Garou chided as he pointed a finger in Bast's direction, "The useless git has been following me around like lice on a rat." Teague couldn't help the chuckle that escaped when he saw the disgruntled expression on the bartenders face, and he out right laughed at the man's protest.
"I am not a lazy git, fur ball! I'll have you know I'm just biding my time, I'll get out there when it is most profitable to me. And I wasn't following you, it was you following me! Something about being bored wasn't it?" Bast shot back. The Garou rolled his eyes and mouthed a silent 'whatever' once the bartenders' small tirade was finished. Even Dresden couldn't suppress a chuckle.
A few curse words and a resounding sigh, followed by the smug words 'Check Mate' came from the area the boys were playing in. All four guys turned their attention to the boys as they stood up and made their way over to where everyone was gathered. Julian offered a small shrug in apology for his words earlier and Subaru, well the kid smirked as if he'd just been named the next dark lord. Teague should have known that would have been a good time to decide he had a mission that just couldn't wait, and booked it out of there while he still had the chance. Unfortunately he didn't. Thus he almost choked on his beer when Subaru pointed at him and 'requested' a story.
The grins on everyone's faces were unmistakable. He sighed. "Please do tell, why is it me that has to tell the story hmm?" Julian laughed and piped up before Suabru could get his own words out, "Well first off you, sir tracker, are late. Secondly and most importantly Dresden told the story last week and Bast the week before that, so that makes you next!"
Damnit. Had he remembered this was coming he would have went and hung out at the Abby all night. At least there he could listen to other people tell stories and quite possibly pick up something pretty. He weighed the odds of escaping the fort with all his limbs attached but decided since Dresden was an expert in the Dark Arts and Soren a Garou, he'd be hexed or maimed before he could get himself out from under the bed.
"A'right, a'right…..what kind of story do you bastards want? Knights? Wizards? Damsels in distress? Giant killer robots?" he couldn't help but laugh at his last statement. Yes the world could use a whole lot more killer robots and lovely ladies in need of rescuing.
"Make it about some place warm! Like California or something!" Dresden offered.
"Yea and about the gold rush!" Julian piped in.
"Make it have me in it, and lots of fighting," Bast added excitedly, "Lots of fighting!"
"And outlaws, since we know that outlaws are way cool right!" yippied Soren.
"And thievery and magic slinging!" Subaru said, trying hard to hide his excitement.
"Good grief," Teague thought, a slight grimace creeping onto his face, "they want a California gold rush, with a bar and pretty ladies, outlaws, thievery and gun/magic slinging…."
He cracked his knuckles and settled comfortably into the cushions he had liberated from Soren earlier. Clearing his throat he began in a quiet voice, "It was a wet and rainy spring day in 1849 when the Wild Cards came to Feather River…."
The town itself was your average little town, bustling with people looking to turn their fortunes by staking a claim in the area. Feather River, over the past few weeks, had garnerd a reputation for being very prosperous for diggers looking to make a quick fortune. This was good in a way as it brought new folks into the area and boosted the economy in town. The Tavern was booked clean out of rooms, stables packed with horses of various shapes and sizes. The blacksmith had never had so much work before, well, he was forced to hire 2 apprentices just to keep up. And crime…crime was minimal, the local sheriff kept a tight leash on everyone, no exceptions. Those under suspicion of, or having been caught causing trouble were thrown into the local jail no questions asked. The worst thing to happen in the last few weeks was a bar room brawl over a pretty lady, which in all honesty was nothing out of the ordinary.
Yes the town of Feather river was a charming place, somewhere to grab a pint and rest weary feet after a hard day's work. It was the travel between claims and the town that the diggers had to be especially careful of. Not everyone flew on the path of the straight and narrow, and of course with news of many claimants' in the area striking it rich, outlaws were sure to near. It was no surprise when the Wild Cards, the front runners for the Williams gang showed up one spring.
Over the next week the Wild Cards had made a name for themselves. Ruthless and daring, they took everything from anyone they caught; personal jewelry, bank money, horses, and of course any gold they could. They had everyone running scared. The 2 youngest of the Wild Cards were known as the quickest shots in the area, with both pistol and wand. Of the other 4 members, 3 were considered the brawn. Tall and lanky, dressed in dark browns, each with his own unique set of skills. Though one in particular had earned the name "Demon", due to the form he took once a month under the light of a full moon. The last member was considered the brains. It was rumored he had a nose for finding the richest people and places to rob. He was also able to keep the local posse from finding the crews lair. You could almost say if you thought your cargo was safe and it would be insane for someone to try and rob you, the Wild Cards would be there to relieve you of your valuables. The outlaws had grown cocky and complacent over time. With so many success and very few failures the crew always joked that there success was 10% skill and 90% luck. It was too bad they didn't know there luck was about to take a turn for the worse.
In a town, 5 miles south of Feather River there was a bank. In the bank, blissfully unaware of what was happening outside, Teague MacTail argued heatedly with Damian Noland, a teller. The latter refused to open the banks safe, which he claimed was on a time lock or something of the sort. Teague's eyes narrowed at the other man's proclamation. The outlaw knew better. But despite a punch to Damian's ribs, a Colt barrel stabbing his cheek, and a wand jabbing his gut, Noland stood tall and unwavering. Teague had never encountered anyone with his guts and, frankly, was a little perplexed by it.
"Forget him n' get the hell out here, MacTail!" a voice interrupted the starring contest Teague was currently having with Noland. He turned to face a very pale looking Dresden, who currently stood in the doorway of the bank, motioning the other on. "We have a problem boss!" Dresden's brother, Soren, turned to the window beside him and watched the small army of townspeople marching unafraid toward the bank. He confirmed that, "Damn, it's an army that's comin'! Dresden's not kiddin' MacTail!"
Teague slapped the side of Nolands's head with his Colt, knocking the man to the floor for his insolence and stalked toward the open door. Dresden followed him out. Sebastian, who had been guarding the other tellers and customers in one corner of the floor, angered he had ridden all this way from Missouri for nothing, paused on his way out, a wicked grin on his face and put a bullet through Noland's head.
By now, Subaru and Julian were hunkered down behind some crates returning fire across the threshold. Teague saw that Soren and Bast had been caught between a violent mob on foot and snipers popping away at them from behind pillars, open windows, rain spouts and dormers overhead. A bullet tore through Teague's open duster as he was knocked to the ground by Dresden. Miraculously the bullet missed his lithe frame. Townsfolk's' bullets and spells whizzed through the air like flies on a dung pile, keeping the most of the Wild Cards so busy ducking and scrambling that they didn't have time to return the shots. No, Teague and his crew had never seen anything like this before.
To the outlaws who had expected a town of timidity (as most towns were in the area), this was an off-rhythm poetry of madness. Time seemed to stand still, yet at the same time it raced ahead. Everything looked contrary and misshapen and every noise discordant. The Wild Cards panicked. Shot in the ankle with a bone breaker curse, Bast stumbled for his saddle horn and managed to pull himself onto his horse, only to take a slug in his left side as he reached down to grab Julian as his horse raced out to the safety of the mountains. By some miracle he managed to stay atop his mount which was no small feat. Subaru who had managed to also get astride his black mare, managed to return some cover spells and shots to the charging townsfolk before racing after his fellow outlaws.
Teague, Soren and Dresden were still hold behind a bunch of creates and kegs, returning spell and gunfire as they were able. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they needed to get out there fast. Soren reached up over the crate he was behind and let a couple shots go while expertly taking out a group of townsfolk with a well-placed Reducto. The small break in fire was all the men needed as they made a wild dash toward an unoccupied alley where they had left their horses. They didn't quite make it to cover unscathed. Dresden caught a slug in the leg and was grabbed by Teague as Soren was busy trying to keep up a barrage of gun shots and spell cover. After getting the injured man on his horse, he mounted his own before barking at Soren to get mounted. They all rode off quick as the wind in to the mountainous surroundings. Just as they crested the first rise a shot rang off from somewhere behind. Teague jerked with the impact and felt the bullet tear though his chest. His vision tunneled, a black halo encroaching, and time slowed to a crawl. The last sensation he had was that of falling backwards. He didn't feel the impact when he hit the ground.
The sight that greeted Teague when he had finished his impromptu story was something he wouldn't soon forget. Dresden at some point during the telling had left the hammock and was now almost nose to nose with him, a look of disbelief plastered on his face seeming to scream 'that's it?'. Bast had leaned far forward in his chair, drink forgotten. Soren even, had sat himself up and had shimmied closer to the tracker. Obviously he was much better at this whole story thing then he had first thought. It was the words that came from the two boys though, that made him truely laugh.
"Wha…you…he was shot?, No way!" stammered Suabru, not truly believing that the story was ending at that particular point.
"You can't just stop there!" Julian said disbelievingly, "What happened to him? And the rest of the Wild Cards? There's no way he could be dead…he's not dead is he?"
Teague slowly got to his feet and stretched out before offering a lopsided grin to his captive audience before making himself comfortable in the abandoned hammock. "Guess you'll have to wait until the next time I have to tell a story," he chided.
Bast sat up a little straighter and looked over to where the tracker had made himself at home. "That's awfully mean of you, ya know MacTail, leaving us all hanging like that.".
Teague didn't even glance at the rest of the crew as he simply stated "I am a Deatheater for a reason ya know."