I have no idea what brought this madness on. Borrowing elements of the common Western and blending it with Tolkein elements (and a dash of Lovecraft). If this sort of thing interests you, i hope to hear from you.
The Loud family is a bit disbanded, having different roles than a family unit would.
Enjoy.
The plains of the Westlands rolled onwards and outwards perpetually. No one could possibly predict what appears over the next hill. Its eternity was filled with blood and teeth and turmoil.
Oh, and sand.
Literally all that's here.
With a gruff sigh, the young woman surveyed the land around her. Not a cactus, nor a dead thing as far as the eye could see.
Well, there was a crow cawing somewhere in the distance.
"Hmm…" she wondered out loud. "On the right path…"
She hopped off the horse. Stomping around the sand. The hat acted as a shield against the sun's brutal heat, as did her gloves and boots against the sands. Her blue blouse had the strap of a rifle running across its torso. Her trousers aren't what some would say "fashionable" for a lady like her.
And she would shoot the tips of their toes, with the revolver and bullets that hung off her hip.
"Wide and open area…" she worded her thoughts listlessly. All the while, she stomped around in a slow circle. "So where… is…"
She stopped in her tracks.
"The monster…" she looked around. The cawing stopped suddenly.
The ground shifted around her. Sand ruptured and something lashed out at her: an arm bigger than she was wrapped around her middle and hoisted her off the ground. Another arm grabbed her horse.
As the arm flailed her around through the air, and she lost sight of her hat, she saw more of the ground split open underneath her. A writhing mass of yellow eyes and teeth moaned as she was held tightly above it.
Apparently, the thing preferred a larger meal than a skinny thing like her. The horse whinnied and cried as two of the tentacles held it over the abomination's gaping maw.
Lori, for the sake of not getting sick, chose not to look as the horse was dropped and devoured.
Gods, the noises are enough stave of sleep for more than a few weeks.
While the creature was preoccupied, she reached for the rifle over her shoulder. As she pulled on it, she realized the arm of the abomination had wrapped around the gun as well.
That left her with a tiny revolver against a massive monster ready to tear her to shreds.
None of those bullets are going to kill it. Unless...
It was a dumb idea to try this. But the way she figured, no one would know but the monster.
She pulled the iron free from its holster and emptied all but one bullet. It's the worst trick she knew, but it was the only chance she's going to survive. She brought the largely empty cylinder to her lips and whispered her wish.
"Ianus Bifrons: My life or the Abomination. One out of six. One shot."
With that, the markings within the cylinder glowed with a celestial blue hue. She locked it in the chamber, spun it, and took aim. He seemed to like it when odds weren't her favor.
The Abomination seemed to notice her at last. It eyed her gluttonously. Lori pulled the hammer back.
"Here goes nothing," she muttered.
She fired her pistol.
The doors swung open as Lori Loud made her presence known. The patrons of the pub gave pause and looked back, staring in disbelief, as the girl in trousers, covered head to toe in blue and purple blood, stood in the doorway. It dripped from her hat as she sauntered between the tables.
The girl was already tired and was in no mood for harassment.
"What the hell's a girl like you doing in the business of Huntin'?" One man stood in her way. "Pretty thing like you would make a purty wife now…"
Lori paused, taking a few shallow breathes under her hat.
"Flip," she called across the hall. "You here?"
A timid enough "Yes" could be heard across the room.
"Would you tell this kind gentleman what you asked me some months ago?"
"I… I asked why you wasn't married, yet."
"And what was my answer?"
"You…you shot me," he answered, "my pecker's clean off! Doc couldn't do nothing…"
"Right…" Lori looked up from under her hat. The man looked a little paler than before. "And that was when I was in a good mood.
"Look at me," she told the man. "I am covered in demon puck. My horse died, so I had to walk all the way back into town. Do I look- eyes here, bucko- Do I look like I'm in the mood for this?"
The man coughed. Then he cleared his throat.
"Then sit down," Lori instructed. "And lose your gamble with your silly card games."
The man sat down, giving a worried look over his shoulder as she passed by, and a sympathetic look to Flip across the tables.
Lori sat at the bar, sighing loudly.
"Miss Loud," the bartender greeted. "You always make an entrance."
"It can't be helped, Mr. Santiago," she smiled at him.
"You could help the mess your making on my counter," he lightly chastised.
She shrugged. "Had to pick up my payment first. Before some greedy goblin tried to claim at his."
"You probably had time to bathe," Roberto suggested.
"Is that an invitation?" she leaned forward.
"A desperate plea," he laughed. He lowered his voice. "Speaking of which. Do you have to use Flip like that?"
"What?" Lori put her hands up. "He doesn't mind. A little white lie doesn't hurt anybody."
"Keep telling yourself that, Senora," he reached under the counter. "You have the proof of a successful hunt?"
"Call it P.O.S.H., Roberto," Lori shook her head as she fished the item from her belt. She set the bottle on the counter. "Everyone else does."
Roberto took vial of fresh monster blood and swirled it in the light. He shook his head.
"Nini!" he called out, "Another delivery for the post!"
A little girl appeared around the corner, gliding across the floor on a board of some shape. She called it a "Ground Glider."
"Right away, boss," she took the vial and pushed onto her board without another word. She was such a cute little girl.
Lori sighed. "Mr. Santiago, when are you going to get me one of those?"
"When you stop hunting critters long enough for me to marry you," he answered with a earnest smile. He set a bag off coins within her reach. "Now go clean yourself. For godsakes!"
Lori approached the two-story cabin. A house much too big for all her lonesome. It was getting late, and she barely had the energy to stop by the butcher's. Tonight's special is Jackalope stew. Again.
She opened the door and sighed. What an empty house she had.
Oop. Wait. There come the footsteps.
"Lori!" a young boy's face split into a grin as he descended the stairs. "You're back!"
"Yup," she groaned. "I'm back."
She sighed. "You hungry?"
He nodded. "Uh-huh!"
He blinked at her, seemingly realizing something.
"Uh," he suggested. "Maybe I'll cook dinner tonight. You need…"
"A bath," Lori agreed. She handed him the two rodents. "You think you can handle that?"
"Yeah," the boy made a face. "Yeah. Sure. I can handle it. Look at me. Handling this."
He stared at the antlered rabbits for a minute. Lori rolled her eyes.
"Give me a few minutes, and I'll help you," She patted his head, but only after removing the messy glove from her hand. She made her way to the bath. "Little brat."
As she shed her layers of clothes and settled into the basin of warm water, she contemplated her current… situation.
She was out Hunting, as always, and she came across the starving, ragged form of a little boy trying to cross the desert. He was muttering some nonsense under his breath, clutching a book to his chest.
Course, that wasn't his most distinguishing feature.
Bright eyes. Silver hair. The boy has elf blood in him.
And halflings aren't supposed to be out on their own. They're all regulated to the cities, watched over by the elven guard.
Whatever the boy's story was, he wouldn't say. Lori thought she'd watch over him, nurse him back to health, then send word to some city authority to pick him up.
Except he's now at full strength, and he seems completely contempt to stay here with her. It's been a number of weeks, and he still isn't talking. He new enough that he shouldn't be seen by common folk. That's an invite to trouble they don't need.
Well, he gave her his name, at least.
Lincoln.
Like that rights activist some years ago.
"Ah!" a young voice echoed through the cabin. "Uh…! Lori?! I need a little help!"
With a sigh, Lori got out, having barely enough time to rid herself of the gunk. She wrapped a robe around herself and hurried to the kitchen.
"The hell's going on here?" she called out. The stove flame erupted higher than it should ever rise.
A few minutes- and a lot of shouting- later, they managed to smother fire. The young woman looked at the boy.
"Better yet," she suggested, "Let me pull on some sleepwear. And then, I'll help you with dinner."
"Okay," he nodded, taking a breath. "Maybe teach me a water spell? Just in case?"
"Not on your life." She slumped off towards her room.
Too exhausted to cook, but setting out to do it anyways. Some hour later, with a full belly, the older girl hit her head on the pillow and fell asleep.
With magic being outlawed, it was nice to have someone to talk to about it.