He introduced himself as Red. Everyone he introduced himself to knew him as Red and everyone he will introduce himself to will know him as Red. He stared down from his large mount at a man laying against a wall on the side of the street. He had a long dirty coat that covered his top half, his pants were made of a tough and durable material, and his brown leather boots were covered in marks and scratches.

The man slowly looked up. His eyes were empty and his face was so dirty Red almost thought it was simply the man's skin color. The man didn't say a word. Red got off his mount and stepped to the man.

"Where'd you get those clothes?" he asked.

"Stole them," said the man.

"I was told there's a man stealing and threatening people."

"That right?"

"Yeah."

Red pulled from his hip a revolver and pointed it at the man's head. The man blinked but didn't have any more of a reaction. The two stared into the other's eyes without words. Red pulled the hammer back and slowly pulled the trigger. Just before it would fire, he placed his thumb on the hammer and moved it back to its original position. The man never made a reaction. Red put his pistol back on his hip.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"I'm taking you to Mesagoza. There's a reward for your head. After I collect your bounty we'll travel East. You'll join my crew."

"Why would I go with you?"

"It's that or you die here in the street," Red reached his hand down to pick the man up. The man looked at the hand, then to Red, then back. He took it and rose to his feet. Red got on his mount, a large mudsdale, and the man got on behind him. The two traveled the hours it took to get to Mesagoza and rode through the streets.

Everyone they passed watched them as neither of them looked as if they belonged. Only the man's style of clothes matched but he and Red were as dirty as can be. Any person who happened to be close enough when they passed wrinkled their noses at their stench.

When they were finally outside the jailhouse, Red tied his mount to a post and the two men walked inside. A jailer was at the counter with a rifle slung over his shoulder and he was cleaning a dismantled pistol. He looked up at Red and the man.

"This was the thief stealing clothes," said Red. The jailer ran his eyes over the man.

"That true?" asked the jailer.

"Yeah," said the man.

"Want my pay," said Red. The jailer sighed before placing the pistol parts in his hand onto the counter. He turned and walked down past the jail cells, a few men in each, and disappeared behind a wall. A few minutes later he was back with a small sack and dropped it next to his pistol parts. The contents inside the sack shifted and clanked, revealing it held coins. Red picked it up, opened it, and counted. Satisfied, he closed it and since it was small enough, he put it right in his pocket.

"Take him," Red said while shoving the man by the shoulder with one hand. The man stumbled forward and showed an expression for the first time. He had expected to leave with Red, but instead he watched an officer approach him. He turned to run away but instead he saw Red pointing his revolver at him. Unlike before, he pulled the trigger and the man died on the jailhouse floor with a bullet in his brain. Red holstered his gun and left the jail, leaving the officers to clean up. He untied his mudsdale and mounted. He headed the way he came and left Mesagoza.

He had gone East and met back up with his gang. In total there were six members, including Red. All young men, with the youngest, a boy named Florian, just shy of eighteen. The second youngest, Brendan, was about five years older. The rest of the boys, Calem, Hilbert, and Victor, were of similar ages. The only one of unknown age was Red. His face made him seem not much older than Florian, but his experience and knowledge could make him the oldest. Red approached Florian who sat beside a fire that had been extinguished hours ago. A large lizard like beast laid beside him, a black wheel-like sac protruded from its neck and chest and its tail curled to match it.

"How long ago did you get back?"

"About an hour," said Florian.

"Anything of note?"

"I saw some trails of a klawf, but they were too big to be anything normal. Could be worth a lot."

"Go into Mesagoza and see if there are any bounties for it."

Florian got up and woke the lizard, a cyclizar which was, like Florian, native to the country of Paldea they were in. With great speed it carried Florian in the direction of Mesagoza. In half the time it would have taken Red on mudsdale, Florian was back.

"There's a price to bring it back for one hundred fifty dollars. They want it dead since it's been attacking caravans."

"Then we'll go after it," Red looked up at the sun and guessed they only had a few more hours of daylight. "First thing in the morning."

Florian nodded and walked away. Every member of the gang was at the camp now and each did their own thing. Their camp was nearing the start of canyons and cliffs and Florian sat against the cliff side and his eyes glanced from each member. Hilbert was cleaning his rifle that he never let anyone touch. Brendan sat on a log sharpening a knife as long as his forearm. Calem and Victor seemed to be conversing about something. And Red had opened a journal and was writing. Florian's cyclizar came over and laid beside him. He put his hand on the lizard.

"Hey, Red," said Brendan. Red looked up from his journal. "Hilbert and I are going to Mesagoza. We'll be back tonight."

"Alright."

Brendan and Hilbert got on their mounts, mudsdales like Red's, and left the camp to go into the city. There they found a bar and bought drinks. As they drank they got more disruptive and one of them jokingly shoved the other. The one who was shoved bumped into the man that sat beside them. Being as drunk the man yelled at them. Before looking at the man, Brendan grabbed the bottle he had poured only a few shots from and smashed it over the man's head. When a new man tried to go after Brendan, Hilbert rose and punched them in the face. There was a loud crunch and blood flowed from between the man's fingers as he held his face.

Even men who weren't acquainted with either groups were getting involved and soon the whole bar was in a frenzy. Bottles shattered, tables were thrown, and chairs broke across mens' backs. Once the fighting had started the bar owner ran from his establishment to fetch the police. By the time the police arrived the fighting had settled and of the men arrested none were the two who started it all.

Brendan and Hilbert rode back drinking from bottles they stole. They got back to camp when everyone else was asleep and when the rest of the gang awoke they found the two men in their bags with empty bottles in their hands. The only clothing they removed before sleep were their hats.

"Leave them," ordered Red when Victor tried to wake Hilbert. Instead Red wrote a note for the two and stuck it to a nearby tree with a knife. Red, along with Calem and Victor, left camp in the opposite direction of Mesagoza. Throughout their journey the sun warmed their skin to the point of almost burning and coated them in sweat.

Florian had ridden ahead of them to scout and they were expected to meet up in a matter of hours. As the three men traversed through the valley cries of beasts echoed off the canyon walls. Occasionally they felt the tremors of something large moving in the distance before it would stop.

"What is a klawf?" asked Calem to no one specifically. He didn't care who answered just as long as someone did.

"A large monster with a near bulletproof shell," said Red. Calem and Victor looked to him. "It has three legs on each side and two claws large enough to kill any man that gets caught. Even if you survive the crushing it'll eat you whole. Normally it hangs upside down under cliffs to jump on its victims. Normally they grow to be only about a child's height, five feet at the most. The one we're looking for might be three times as big."

Victor glanced upward as they passed under a natural archway. The rest of the ride was silent until they crossed paths with Florian.

"Did you find it?"

"I believe so. There were more of its tracks and a large dip in the sand where it was likely waiting for prey."

"How far away?"

"Not far."

"Good."

Red took the lead and the three men rode behind him. Florian's cyclizar was only about half the height of the other men's mudsdales. Within half an hour the men were where Florian found the dip and as he said it was as if something large had dug out the ground just enough to lay beneath the surface. Florian's cyclizar began sniffing the ground for any sign of a trail. The other men only watched. There were more distant cries and small tremors the men could feel. A larger tremor was felt. However they didn't just feel a ripple. The origin was right below them and before anyone could react the ground beneath Florian began to rise. He rose more than five feet in the air before his cyclizar jumped down.

The group watched as what Red and Florian knew and what Calem and Victor guessed, was a klawf emerged from the sand like a plant. Once it was done growing the size of it put Red's estimation of being three times as big as normal to shame for it was bordering on five. The klawf let out a loud roar that sprayed bits of sand at the group causing them all to cover their eyes.

"Shoot it!" ordered Red. The group drew their guns and began firing on the monster. Their pistols didn't do much. The klawf's shell which covered its whole body was as tough as rock. They all might as well been firing into the nearby cliff face. At most they produced visible cracks and once Florian, weaving between the beast's legs on his fast mount, got a good shot on its belly that sent chunks of shell flying. Florian tried to shoot the now exposed flesh, but the klawf was careful of keeping it protected.

The beast didn't just stand and roar and let itself be attacked. It snapped at the men with claws not only large enough to grab the men but also their mudsdales. Mudsdale are ridden for their extraordinary stamina and strength, not so much their speed, so it was easy for the klawf to grab Calem's. Had Florian not shoot the chunk off it's underside when he did, Calem and his mount likely would've already been killed.

The giant klawf, like all klawf, wasn't fully covered in a shell. From two holes near the front of its body protruded two long black stalks with eyes attached to the ends. On a normal klawf, its eyes were the size of grapefruits. On the giant they were the size of pumpkins that would make a farmer contemplate entering them into a contest. As most of the men shot the klawf all over, Red had been attempting to shoot out its eyes, missing every shot.

"Focus on its eyes!" Red shouted. He grew tired of not being able to shoot the round white targets that he decided to have everyone aim for them. The idea of having more guns pointed at the same thing to increase the chances of it being shot worked when one of Victor's bullets bursted the eye into many bloody pieces. The klawf let out its loudest shriek yet and began snapping and stepping more erratically. The pain in its now nonexistent eye distracted it from the exposed flesh that Florian was quick to shoot at it.

The klawf stumbled and kneeled on three of its legs. Being still let the group focus on specific spots some more. More shell chunks flew off and more of its flesh was exposed and shot. Near five minutes of straight shooting later the beast let out a final cry before falling on its stomach. Its legs crunched and crumpled under its sudden drop. It was dead. Red got off his mount and approached it. He placed his boot against it and gave a few kicks. He turned around.

"Florian! Go back to Mesagoza and get the people that'll pay for this. If you see Hilbert and Brendan make them follow you."

Florian nodded and headed back to the city. He found their camp and the two men they left behind were still asleep. Each one got a kick into the ribs which jolted them awake. Florian told them what happened in their absence to get them up to speed. Knowing that they had to follow him, they got up and mounted. A little drunkenness was still in them.

The sun was almost completely set by the time Florian got back to the klawf carcass with a large posse of people from the city. They all rode mudsdale and had a pack of tauros pulling carts to haul back the klawf. Some men with tools surrounded the dead monster and began hacking and cutting at its limbs and body to make it actually moveable.

A woman, in her thirties with skinny body and black hair that had streaks of dark yellow through out it, approached Red. She was Geeta, the head of Mesagoza's government and Governor of Paldea's South Province. In her hand was a large sack of coins and jewels. Geeta began to thank Red for his gang stopping the klawf that had been attacking people but Red paid her no mind. As soon as he was handed the sack he began to count every piece and took some out and handed equal shares to his gang. The only two men to not be paid were Brendan and Hilbert. They knew why so they complained not.

With his gang paid Red ordered them to saddle up and head out. The group of six left the city folk behind on their own to head back to their camp. Upon arriving Red found the knife and note stuck to the tree. Neither had been touched by anyone but him. He put the knife back on his hip and crumpled the note and tossed it into a fire someone had made. After eating a meal of dried meat and chasing it down with water, the men crawled into their bags and slept except for two. Brendan and Hilbert counted what money they had between them and decided to head into Mesagoza.

This story is actually inspired by Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy.

~~~Sikoh