Samurai- A person bound by a strict code of honor and discipline serves with unswerving loyalty and devotion to uphold the edicts of his master and the laws of the land.
Gunman- A person following no set rules, answering to none but themselves and their firearms.
Chevya cries resounded through the atrium, but soon quieted down as she was taken into the warm arms of Old Shedemei.
"What is wrong little one?"
Chevya sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Raab was pulling my hair again. Sniff...why is he so mean to me?"
"I don't know little one, it could be many things. Some would say it was a young boy's backwards way of telling that he likes you." Chevya face contorted with disgust at this thought. Old Shedemei smile at this, how quickly her thoughts would change in a few years when Chevya blossomed."But I would say it is jealousy little one."
"Jealous? of me...I'm just a girl...He's such a strong boy and everyone follows him."
"But you don't."
"no..."
"Raab is jealous of your proud heritage. He also admires your refusal to back down and follow him."
"What do you mean?"
"My little Chevya, you have the honor of being a female of this fine city. A City born through strength and determination of strong willed women. "
Chevya stared at Old Shedemei blankly.
"My, my..what have they been teaching you in school these days...Alright. Let me tell of you a story from long ago, when these lands where wild, there where no laws, a woman could not walk the streets at night without fear for her life, terrifying mists rolled across the plains, and a sad time when even the dead could not rest in peace without fear of being taken by the Mist Riders."
"It sounds so horrible..."
"It was little one, it was. It was a dark time, but like the saying goes little one, with every dark cloud there is silver lining. In this case there where two, and this tale is theirs, their legend...
The Legend of Brisco and Eddie
The Samurai Gunmen
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL ABOARD!" The old aged conductor Ozzye En'ruobzo called
The steam horn cried out and the long mighty train began rolling away from Nivern Station beginning its long run to the Miridian Fields, the only place in all of Selvatoria that wasn't a wasteland. It carried within itself, the usual mix of tourists, romantics and hope filled prospectors. This particular run was far from an ordinary trip, it also contained 10 of the brightest minds in the fields of science, engineering, and the arcane arts, including the old, grumpy but nonetheless legendary Conjurer Al'tival.
They all were on their way to attend the great conference being held in Miridian City. These educated minds were here to discuss and with any luck, solve the great problem that plagued the continent of Selvatoria; The Mist and its deadly compatriots The Mist Riders.
To the commoner the Mist was mostly harmless, but to anyone or anything even slightly gifted or enchanted with magic, it was a power sink. Anima was stripped and absorbed by the Mist, rendering magic users powerless and enchanted items worthless. Yet in the150 years people had been populating Selvatoria, they had gotten used to the limited or complete lack of magic. The first real signs of technology began to fill the void created by the lack of anima-weavers. Then the Mist took a new form, in that of The Mist Riders.
The Mist Riders, ghostly apparitions and corpses of those that had died in the Selvatorian wastelands. Yet to call them mere undead would be a misnomer and serious error. Undead were simple shadows to be trod upon the desert sands by the Mist Riders. Entire colonies and quantain mines had been desiccated by The Mist Riders, what small handfuls of survivors told horrific tales of the terrible phantoms ravaging the already desolate wastelands. Luckily for the citizens of Selvatoria, the Mist Riders never ventured far beyond the chilling embrace of the eternal creeping Mist. In so long as fateful wind did not blow, the colonies were safe. It was a dangerous game, the price was worth the gamble ...to the survivors. Quantain alone was worth more then 100 times it's equal weight of platinum.
None of this, however, was on the mind of Lorelei Brisco or Edwina Ray. For their own separate reasons, they had been brought together on this special train.
"Shijumy Dago! Lar Kora'dal! Step forward!"
Two large burly Ebony men stepped forward in the cabin, wearing a large sword upon their backs, assorted pistols upon their hips, both proudly bearing on their chests the Pentagram of Selvatoria, symbol of the only law of the land. What had once started as a simple protection racket in a booming miner town had now spread to become continent's only defenders; The Samurai Gunmen.
The Half Orc in front of them scratched something upon a clipboard in his beefy, oversized hands. "Climb up on the roof of this cabin and keep watch for raiders, we should be coming through Cronite country soon."
"Yes sir!" The Ebonites echoed
Down the line of Gunman the Half-Orc went, calling out names , dolling out duty assignments, until eventually there was no one left but two. Two…. girls. One about 5'9 garbed in a tanned leather overcoat, a wide-brimmed hat rested upon a head of flowing red hair. Sheathed upon her back rested a sleek elegant katana and sitting upon her hips a strangely designed pistol. The other girl much shorter around 5'2, sat wrapped in a quilted poncho, an excessively oversized sombrero obscuring her blond head A Single shot rifle lay upon her lap, a very disfigured short sword lashed to her hip hidden beneath the poncho.
Aside from being female, the only thing common between the two, was the shining gold Triangle of Trials upon their breast. This simple gold triangle was symbol of apprentice Gunmen. The Half-Orc rolled his eyes up off the clipboard to stare at the to with unhidden distaste.
"Lorelei Brisco! Edwina Ray! Step forward!"
They did so.
"You should do us all a favor and go home and play with your dolls little girls...but some how you managed to get your 'prentice badges...So. Let's see here. Brisco, you look like your fairly adept, latrine duty in the rear cabin. Ray, since we don't really need that heavy a interior guard with 'real' Gunmen on this train. You are assigned as 'special guard attache' to Al'tival, subject to his every whims up to and including cabin doxy. Dismissed!"
With that the Half-Orc stomped out and slamming the cabin door behind him, it wobbled upon its hinges before finally falling back into the train cabin.
"Well..that went well..." Lorelei grumbled with a heavy sigh.
"Same old ,same old..."
"No kidding..I don't know who got it worse me or you...Yech..cleaning up after miners..."
"wench to some old stuck up know it all..."
They both sighed in a union of abject defeat.
At this point it would seem that the two were destined to be forever subservient bound, but as the train roared across Selvatoria, fate lent them a helping hand.
"Hey baby! Give ya a bag of Quantain dust for a little time!"
"Get y" Lorelei couldn't stand miners, they where so filthy so dirty.but then again allot would say the same about her chosen profession. But it was her only way for soothing her heart. Unconsciously her right-hand thumbed across her visible side arm a somewhat strange looking pistol. It was the pride and joy of her father, a renowned ballistics expert and gunsmith. The 54 cal. Bullgut was the only remaining memory of her father, she loved him dearly and like him she had little love for the labor class..most especially dirty, filthy, greedy miners.
Lorelei was about to deck the lust-lorn miner when a crack resounded through the train car, followed by a scream and then a man fell past the car's window down to the desert floor.
A heart beat later, the cry echoed along the train. "RAIDERS!"
Armor plates slammed down sealing the windows and everyone lost their balance momentarily as the train surged forward to emergency speeds. The cracks of gunfire cut loose, the Gunmen posted around the train took to action; doing their best to ensure the safety of everyone on board. Bullets clanging and pinging against thick armor hide, the raiders returning fire. A few cries from the outside signaled the fall of Gunmen struck in the exchange. Those inside the cabins hunkered down under anything they could find, huddled against each other for protection and security.
The far wall of the Miner car suddenly disintegrated outward, sucking several unfortunate passengers outside, injuring others in the blast. Another burst of gunfire concentrated into the opening struck another batch of unlucky souls and then raiders on horseback moved in to enter through the wide gaping hole.
"To the VIP cars!" Lorelei shouted at the terrified passenger, most too stunned and shell-shocked to move.
"MOVE!" She roared, eliciting some response this time.
"YEEEEEEEEEEHOOOOO!" A lasso twirled inside and snagging a small girl, obviously a daughter of one of the miners.
"Daddy!" she screamed over the noise and shouting.
"Beckah!" A voice called in defiance of the wave of fleeing miners shoving him into the next car. The lasso tightened and quickly began to drag the child out of the hole. Lorelei grabbed the girl with one hand and the other sharply yanked the rope forcing the raider to lose balance and fall off his mount. The lasso now removed she sent the child into the next car. Another volley of bullets rang against the steel, a several volleys screaming through the hole.
Edging her way to opening, back pressed firmly against the wall, Lorelei breathed deeply drawing two side arms. Brand new, never once fired Gnome and Becker Semi Auto 49 cal. pistols. She leaned over just enough just to sneak a peek at the action outside. Three Raiders on horseback...She breathed deeply again and flung herself in front of the opening, cutting loose with her handguns. They all went down against the lead hail without even knowing what hit them.
She smiled, ejecting the cartridges to to reload. The train bucked wildly again, and she headed up to the train to the VIP cars to see what help she could lend. There was a tremendous blow to her head and blackness greeted her as she fell into the next car.
A few hours… minutes…or seconds later, she was unsure of which. Lorelei awoke to see a tall gray Gnoll grinning at her with a large toothy smile.
"Should I have fun now, or save you for later?"
"How about never." A voice said from behind the Gnoll
"Wha?" The Gnoll started to whirl around to face the voice however a very large hole appeared in his abodmen. The ruined Gnoll teetered in disbelief for a few moments, suddenly collapsing to reveal Edwina Ray holding a smoking rifle.
"I bet you're happy to see me. " She beamed
"Very."
"Good thing I decided to check back he-" Edwina fell with a thud, her head striking the wall. A man with blond hair stood before Lorelei, a wooden blackjack in his hand.
The man smiled at her, tipping his hat in mock gentleman fashion. He stepped backward into the VIP car, stopping just long enough to remove the pin which held the train cars together.
"Girls or Gunmen 'Prentices. It don't matter, either way can't have you butting around!"
As the two battered cars receded slowly from the rest of the train, the man lit a cigarette.Taking a deep drag, he reaches into his coat removing a somewhat large water-skin. When the man lit the end of the skin however, it was fairly obvious that it was not water it carried. The skin sailed into the car, skidded upon the floor coasting to the rear of the section, far away from a still groggy Lorelei. The man puffed his cigarette one last time before flinging it unto the desert and slammed the car door shut .
He watched through the rear window, the abandoned cars fading into the distance. They exploded beautifully; he loved the smell of burnt powder in the morning. 'Prentices they may have been, but none the less that was two less Gunmen in the world.
End of Chapter1