Back in the win column

It wasn't pretty, but a whirlwind week for the Saskatchewan Roughriders capped off with a victory over the Winnipeg Blue Bombers on the Labour Day Classic.

Still licking their wounds from the loss the previous week to the Edmonton Eskimos, the Riders were looking for something to help bolster them. That came in the form of a trade with the Toronto Argos for quarterback Michael Bishop. Bishop was part of the quarterbacking controversy in Toronto, as the Argos had two starting quarterbacks in Bishop and former Rider quarterback Kerry Joseph. Bishop only had a few days to prepare for the game against the Bombers, because many believed he would start.

Add to that, another inevitable occurred. The Riders released long time quarterback Marcus Crandell. Crandell started the last two games for the Riders, both losses against Calgary and Edmonton.

Sunday comes along. The Winnipeg Blue Bombers are in Regina for the annual Labour Day tilt.

As I said earlier, it wasn't pretty. But a win is a win.

The Rider offense only capitalized once, by punching it into the endzone for a TD. All the other points came from the toe of kicker Luca Congi. In the end, the Rider defense became it's old, stingy self and held the Bombers to just 6 points.

Final score: Riders 19, Blue Bombers 6.

The rematch happens next week in the now annual Banjo Bowl.

Until next time...

...keep 'em flyin'.

Dime Novels, Penny Dreadfuls

So, I've had a couple of people comment on the style of story I'm writing with the entire Adventures of Black Mask and Pale Rider. First, why I'm doing this. That answer is easy enough. Because I can. Because it's fun, it's entertaining, and it's something a lot of people have said they enjoy.

Second, the question has come up, what kind of story is this? What genre does it fit into? Well, it is a western, with magic undertones. Currently, the stories have touched heavily on the myths that we've all come to hear about, vampire, ghostly apparitions and so on. I'm not gonna give more away, because that'll ruin the Wylde Hunt. But what these emulate the most are Dime Novels.

It's generally agreed the first true dime novel was Beadle's Dime Novel, release on June 9, 1860. Many of these dime novels were reprints of serial series from what was known as story papers. Many story papers were tabloid size right up to full broadsheet newspaper size, eight pages in length, they contained stories and articles. The Dime Novels often collected these serial stories together in one one hundred page book. And they were numbered for the purpose of the series.

A lot of these dime novels have continued publication right up into the 1940's where they became known as pulp fiction. Both dime novels and pulp fiction novels were printed on pulp paper, the latter receiving it's name from that paper process. Dime novels often always had wood cut pictures on the front. The first few released did not have any pictures, but popularity of the style prompted many different competitors to begin this process. Beadle's New Dime Novels broke from trend and produced the first dime novels with colour.

Dime novels were popular in the United States in the late 1800's, and proved to be much like modern day comic books or television. They were cheap to purchase, easy to read and caught on quite quickly, especially with their handy pocket size. A common size for a dime novel was 4 inches wide by 6 and a half inches tall.

Often, the prices of dime novels were not always ten cents. Sometimes they were five cents and even 15 cents. The term became common place with many novels of this type, due to the fact that most were quickly written, and published a week at a time.

In Britain and all of her possessions during the early 1800's and into the 1900's, similar books of similar style were called Penny Dreadfuls or Shilling Shockers. Often times stories written in England were reprinted in the United States as dime novels, and vise versa. At the time there were no royalty issues to deal with, so reprinting stories was not an illegal process. Penny Dreadfuls and Shilling Shockers were often directed to an adolescent male audience, most often those young men who were part of working class families.

The first Penny Dreadfuls appears in the 1830's, originally thought of for the entire working class family, but by the 1850's this changed to the more teenage market. By the mid-1890's Alfred Harmsworth decided to do something that was widely perceived as the corruption of the Penny Dreadfuls. The Half-penny Dreadful was released, producing the same lurid, quickly written fiction, all for the price of half a penny. In the beginning of the Half-Penny Dreadful's life, they published moral, high-minded tales, but eventually gave into the more popular genre of fanciful fiction. These knockoffs, as it were, started the decline of the Penny Dreadful. A.A. Milne once said, “Harmsworth killed the penny dreadful by the simple process of producing the ha’penny dreadfuller.”

There are several characters from both the Penny Dreadfuls and the Dime Novels that survived well into the late 1900's. Nick Carter, Dixon Hawke, Jack Harkaway and Sexton Blake all had successful runs as recurring characters, even receiving their own series at the time. In Britain, many Penny Dreadfuls became British comic magazines.

Until every book becomes digital...

...keep 'em flyin'!

The Wylde Hunt, Pt. 2

The two elves studied the grave solemnly. The bartender had brought them out to the cemetery to see the final resting place of the elf who had come to this place and called it home so many years ago. They knew the name all too well. A scourge on their home world, an elf who sought nothing but power, and strove to find eternal life. Perhaps this is what he meant.

“People back home think he's jist some lich up in a tower,” Shani whispered. Pania merely nodded in reply. “Guess this paints a whole new picture on the bastard. Alla things he done, alla people he tortured. Weird thet he come here, an' made things right.” Both elves had removed their hats as though in a respectful prayer when they first approached the gravesite. “When we git back, should we say anythin'?”

“No,” Pania stated in a somber tone. “B'cause no one'll b'lieve us.” The two elves slowly placed the hats back on their heads and began to turn back to the wagon owned by the bartender. “An' no tellin' these people wha' 'e were like on our world. Leave 'em with their own misconceptions.” Shani nodded slowly as the two began to trudge back to the wagon.

The clouds covered the stars in the night sky. Lightning flashes light up the area every so often, as thunder rumbled in the distance. The wind had picked up just a bit, making it slightly uncomfortable. Shani stopped a moment and looked back toward the grave. It seemed as though she had heard laughter coming from that direction. “Ladies,” the bartender called out. “We had best get ourselves back to town. Storm's coming in, we don't want to get caught in the middle of it.”

They all heard the large, clomping hooves of the Clydesdale, knowing right away it was Marshal Derringer. “Travers,” he called out as he brought the mighty horse to a stop. “Get Miss Wennemein and Miss Alow back to the inn. I'll handle what's coming.” Travers, the bartender, knew that sound in Derringer's voice. There was more to this storm than just thunder and lightning. “Ladies, step lively, if you please.”

Pania was already stepping up into the wagon, as Shani began to lazily run toward the vehicle. She was about twenty feet away when the air became acrid, and there seemed to be an electricity that surrounded them all. Then came the lightning bolt. The horses reared back as the loud boom echoed throughout the area. Shani was thrown back several feet toward the graveyard as Pania covered her ears. Travers worked to control the horses and Derringer steered his horse slightly, away from the scorch mark in the earth. He quickly dismounted and looked skyward.

“Huntsman,” he shouted to the heavens. “It's been a long time!”

The air filled with eerie laughter, the dirt picked up, swirling together and forming an image. An eerie green glow came from within it as the apparition of a man became known. The Huntsman. He laughed as he seemed to float toward Derringer. “It's been many, many century's, Maximus,” he said with a cold chuckle. “Or is it Derringer now. I can never remember, you change your name so many times.”

“What do you want?” Derringer hissed through his teeth as he scowled at the apparition.

“What I always want,” the Huntsman replied with a sickening grin. “I want my prey.” He looked toward Shani who was just now trying to orient herself after nearly being hit by lightning. Her ears were ringing and she found it difficult to stand. This only made it easy for the Huntsman. Ethereal tentacles reached out and surrounded her. Pania had come back to her senses after the blast, and saw what happened. She shouted out in horror as the Huntsman drew himself closer to Shani, enveloping his cloak around her. “The first of my prey,” he said as Shani disappeared into the blackness that was the Huntsman's form. “The first of many, and you can do nothing to stop me, Maximus,” he said with a twisted grin as he looked back to Derringer.

“You bastard!” Pania called out as she drew her Smith and Wesson, jumping down from the wagon as she moved toward the apparition, firing repeatedly on it. The Huntsman only laughed as he pulled himself into the air.

“Time enough for you to join me, little elf,” he called out with a sneer. “You're next after all.” He moved further and further away as Pania kept firing upon the apparition. When he was completely out of sight, a second bolt of lightning screamed out of the sky, slamming into the ground in front of Pania, sending her flying backwards. She hit the ground and slipped into unconsciousness.

“Marshal!” Travers called out in urgency. “What do we do?”

Derringer knelt down beside Pania's still form. She still breathed, so there was still hope. Gently, he picked her up with ease in his massive arms as he replied to Travers. “Go back to town and find the sheriff and his deputies. Explain what happened, everything. He'll know what to do.” Derringer cradled Pania carefully as he mounted his war horse.

“Marshal,” Travers said in a small voice. “It's true, isn't it. All those things you told us. It's all true.”

“Yes it is, Travers,” Derringer replied with a soft sigh. He looked to Travers and nodded in his direction. “Get going. Find the sheriff. I'll tend to Miss Alow. She is our only hope right now.”

*****

Her world was black, the wind whistled in her ears. When Shani opened her eyes, tiny dancing lights in a sea of black was all she saw. It didn't look like the night sky at all. It was different, as though she was racing through the world at unimaginable speeds. She tried to move her arms, but found herself paralyzed, not by fear, but by something else. She could still move her head, and still had control of her voice as she grunted trying to move.

And she could still hear well enough.

The laughter filled the area, sickening, demented laughter that could send chills down the spine of any mortal. “I see my little prize is awake,” the voice seemed to call out from everywhere. “So good of you to join me.”

“Who... who the hell are ya?” Shani shouted followed quickly by a rough coughing.

“Tut, tut,” the voice warned. “Too much shouting and you could injure yourself. And we wouldn't want that.” He chuckled lightly, as it seemed to echo throughout the area.

“Wha... whaddya want with me?” Shani seemed to plead, wanting answer to this confusing and confining situation.

“What do I want?” the voice repeated in a shout that filled Shani's ears, then he spoke again in much more softer tones. “What do I want? I am the Huntsman. I seek out my prey. And I take it. You and your little friend have interested me. Capturing you was easy. Capturing your friend will not take much at all. Especially with you for bait.

Shani narrowed her eyes and forced courage into her very being as she snarled. “Whyn't you jist go STRAIGHT TA HELL!!” The laughter filled the area again, and the specter who spoke finally showed himself. His face made of the mists, his hair, wisps of wind and clouds combined. His eyes were dark and hollow, and his voice sounded like thunder when he spoke.

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” he spoke with a twisted smile. “I just need one more, and we can all go together.”

*****

Pania's eyes slowly opened, and the small elf raised a sore hand up as she touched her forehead. Her vision was blurry at first, and she had a difficult time focusing on objects in the room. It took her a great deal of energy to realize the large figure in the room with her was actually Marshal Derringer. “Me 'ead,” she finally said in a quiet tone as she squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to get up, but found it difficult and merely slumped back onto the bed again. “Wha' were tha' thin'?” she finally asked. “An' why it call ye Maximus?”

“He is called the Huntsman,” Derringer replied in a tired voice as he busied himself at a nearby stove. He poured hot water into a set of cups, and added several herbs to the mixture along with some tea, which he allowed to steep for a while as he spoke. “And I have hunted him for a long, long time.” He pulled up a chair and set it beside Pania's makeshift bed, sitting himself down rather heavily, and continued. “To answer your other question, I will need your complete confidence. Have you ever participated in a dream walk before?” Pania shook her head, allowing Derringer to continue. “A dream walk, is when one person can see the past of another. I have done it before, I learned it during my time in Tibet, and found that even the Natives here can participate in such things.” Pania furrowed her brow, confused by what the Marshal was describing.

“Bu', 'ow's tha' gonna get Shani back?”

“To know your enemy,” Derringer continued. “Is to be able to trap your enemy. I'm going to take you back with me, so you can see the first time I faced the Huntsman.” He rose to his feet and retrieved the tea cups, handing one to Pania. The pale elf took it carefully, taking in the aroma of the mixture.

“Bu' why me?” she asked in a voice that seemed to sound more tired than what it should have. Even with just a scent of the tea, the mixture was beginning to take effect. “Wha' 'ave I go' ta do with bein' able ta stop 'im.” She took a sip as she watched Derringer take a sip from his own cup.

“You have a connection to magic,” he explained to her. “Something I do not have.” He watched her as she lay back down on the bed, her eyes beginning to close as though they had weights attached to them. “For now, just sleep. And walk with me. Everything shall be revealed that you need to know

The Wylde Hunt, Pt. 1

Franklin, West Virginia, August 29, 1863
They'd been traveling the roads for over a week. Keeping themselves under a low profile while riding from town to town. Shani reluctantly agreed no bank jobs. Especially when they had such a long way to ride to reach Shreveport and the Underground Railroad. The horses loped into the town slowly. Another stop, it seemed. The town was small enough, and looked friendly enough. People offered a smile and a cheerful greeting as they passed by. Obviously they weren't privy to the wanted posters with the likenesses of Black Mask and Pale Rider. Or maybe they didn't care. Maybe they didn't believe the ramblings of the dime store novels.

Pania saw the man first, sitting tall in the saddle. She couldn't help but not see him, his large frame that sat almost delicately on the back of his horse. Rather, his Clydesdale. The elven bard took note of the badge on the man's coat, recognizing the mark of a United States Marshal. She nudged Shani, who was busily taking note of the different businesses in the community. The lithe gunslinger looked to Pania, slightly annoyed, then saw where the bard was looking.

“Ev'nin', Marshal,” Pania spoke up as she tipped her hat. Shani followed suit as both elves brought their mounts to a halt in the middle of the street.

The large man prodded his war horse forward a bit, stopping beside Pania's and looked down to the pair of elves. Both of their eyes were like saucers that someone would actually want to ride an animal such as that. “Welcome to Franklin, ladies,” he said in a calm voice. There was no malice in his voice, and even his eyes seemed to smile, a slight contrast to the leathered face. He appeared to have seen a good number of years. “I believe your reputations precede you. Black Mask and Pale Rider.”

Shani gulped audibly. There was no way that she would be able to outrun or even outfox a man like this. “So... um...” Shani tried to say, but found there was no words that came to her mind as she stammered away.

“Wha' now, Marshal?” Pania simply resigned herself to say.

The large man chuckled lightly, and even then it still sounded like a rumble of an oncoming thunderstorm. “No need to worry, ladies. As long as your stay here is peaceful, then you are free to come and go as you please. Things are done a bit differently in Franklin.” There was just a hint of an accent that Pania could not put her finger on as the man spoke. “As you have so keenly observed, I am the Marshal for this region. Marshal Martin Derringer.

“Well, guess y'already know us, huh?” Shani said without difficulty this time. “I mean, seein' how ya mentioned our monickers right 'way.”

“Black Mask,” Derringer stated. “Given to you by the first sheriff you crossed paths with, just because he didn't know your name.” Derringer smiled as he repeated the tale. Shani just nodded, he was dead on the money, not like in the dime store novels. This alone made Derringer more dangerous than anyone else they had met before. “And Pale Rider,” Derringer continued. “So given to you by the Natives in Maine and New York where you first made your appearance.” He arched an eyebrow as he looked to Pania, and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eyes. “To many in the New England states, that alone was a black mark against you.”

“Aye,” Pania said slowly as she tried to smirk. “Never could understan' why, mind ye.”

Derringer tipped his hat to the two elves and smiled. “There is an inn and tavern just at the end of this street. They have lodgings available, and they always have entertainment.” He looked to Pania for a moment. “Perhaps that might interest someone like yourself.” He rolled his shoulders as Pania could only sit in her saddle slack jawed. Derringer didn't wait for a reply as he continued. “And they have legal poker games nightly, something you might be interested in, Miss Wennemein.” Shani just blinked for a moment, and never said a word. “For now, you ladies have a lovely evening.” He tipped his hat again, and urged the powerful mount forward. The Clydesdale lazily loped down the street as Marshal Derringer greeted townsfolk out for an early evening.

The two elves just watched him for a moment, then looked to each other.

“Y'all find thet jist a bit creepy,” Shani remarked.

Pania turned in her saddle and started her horse down the street. “Le's jus' ge' a good meal, a 'ot bath, an' ride on. I will say tha' the good Marshal is fulla surprises.” Shani nodded as she took a deep breath, urging her horse forward as she followed Pania.

*****

The wind whistled as evening began to approached. Clouds pulled themselves together, as if a beckoning hand demanded their attention. Thunder rolled in the distance. Lightning flashed. And an unearthly howl sounded out.

The hunt was on. And the Huntsman would begin to track his prey.

*****

Shani opened the double doors to the tavern slowly and took a quick look around inside. It looked to be a popular place. And the townsfolk seemed to be friendly. Perhaps even overly friendly. As Shani passed by one table, a portly man with a thick white beard smiled and invited her to sit and take part in a game of poker. Shani returned the smile and tipped her hat in thanks, stating she just might have to take in a couple of hands.

Pania found she was having the same reaction as Shani to the smiles and nods of greeting. One young woman asked if Pania would put on a performance later in the evening, to which Pania had to decline, saying she needed a bath and a hot meal in her first. But, she definitely would consider it.

They both saddled up to the bar and began to speak in low tones amongst themselves as they seemed to hang onto the immaculately polished brass railing that surrounded the bar. “This gittin' any weirder fer you?”

“Aye, weird 'nough,” Pania replied as she took another glance around the bar. It would have been so much like a tavern back home. Minus all the six shooter, 12 gage shotguns and other pistols. But just like home. She looked back across the bar, suddenly surprised at the appearance of the bartender. He offered a kind smile as he wiped off the bar in front of the two, placing a pair of clean glasses in front of each of them.

“What can I interest you ladies in tonight?” he asked, then quickly held up a hand as though he needn't hear any reply. “Actually, I think I have just the thing for you.” He reached under the bar and took out a rather ornate bottle, gently placing it on the bar before them. “From our private stock,” he said with a smile, his chubby cheeks making him seem like a kindly middle aged man, and his eyes holding a well of wisdom.

Pania reached slowly for the bottle and inspected it closely. She brushed back some of the dust on the bottle and looked up to the bartender with bewildered eyes. “This... this... this...” she stammered, completely taken aback by the inscription on the bottle.

“Elven wine, I know,” the bartender nodded with a chuckle. He saw the looks the held and felt compelled to explain. “You aren't the first of your kind to come drifting into this town. As a matter of fact, one of the first citizens here was an elf. We keep that information quiet around here, we don't need nosy tourists defiling his last resting place.”

“An.. elf?” Shani said with a great deal of force. It was hard to believe, but she supposed it was true. “An' he left... left... a bottle.”

“Actually, he left an entire reserve for us,” the bartender explained, his smile ever present. “About thirty years ago, he returned home, and brought this to us. A thank you, he said, for everything we had done, and for making him so welcome. I was just a small boy at the time, my father ran this place. About ten years later, he passed on. I remember hearing that he was very old, and just simply wanted a place to stay and live in peace.” The bartender shrugged a bit before continuing. “I suppose his life was filled with a great deal of troubles. We never bothered him about that, really.”

Again, Shani blinked, unable to say a word. Pania would have to do the talking for now. “Is there... any chance we can see the grave? Jus' ta pay respects. It's no' often we 'ear o' 'nother elf in these parts.”

“Certainly, I don't see why not,” the bartender replied. “But for now, enjoy yourselves. Three days ago word came in that you helped a small village in Pennsylvania against a den of vampires. You deserve a rest after that.” He gave each of them a pat on the shoulder and pushed the bottle toward them. “Consider this one on the house.” With that, he left to perform his duties as the tavern owner.

The two elves never said a word for quite some time, as they tried to let all this new information sink in. It was Pania who finally spoke. “We ain't dreamin', are we?”

“No,” Pania replied in a quiet, automatic tone. “I'd say no'.” She picked up the bottle again and a smile came to her face. She uncorked it, and poured some for each of them. “Fer now, le's jus' enjoy the moment, shall we.”

*****

The sound of poker chips clinking seemed calm. Shani studied her cards closely as she contemplated her bet. Finally, she took five chips and tossed them into the middle of the table, looking to each of the other participants. “I'll see yer bet, an' raise it twenny bucks,” she said casually.

“Elf's got a mean poker face,” a slender gentleman in a deep blue fancy suit said with a sigh.

“You're just jealous, Jack,” the portly man with rosy cheeks and a full white beard chuckled. “You always had the best poker face, but after a while you can tell when your dour demeanor means you have garbage in your hands." Jack just scowled and matched the bet.

“Glad this is a friendly game, Nick,” Jack replied as he watched Nick toss in his ante. “I guess that's why I always come to Franklin during the summer months.” One of the other players added his into the pot and looked to the last. The last player grumbled and tossed his cards down, muttering something about too rich for him. Jack looked over to Shani. “You called it, let's see 'em.”

Shani grinned as she placed her cards on the table. “Royal Flush, gentlemen,” she said as she watched the reaction from the others. One of them just shook his head as he grabbed his glass and walked to the bar. Nick could only laugh, and Jack, he sighed openly as he leaned back in his chair.

“That's five in a row, Elfy girl,” Jack merely stated. “Exactly how much of my money do you wanna take?”

Shani shrugged as she dragged the pot in with a grin. “Hell, luck's gotta run dry at some point. Let's jist say I'm havin' fun. Lot better 'n back in Madison, where a poker game ended in pistols.” She added her winnings to her pile as Nick picked up the cards and began to shuffle. The player who went to the bar returned with a fresh drink and a bottle of whiskey, which he began filling up the other's glasses.

“Fortunately,” Nick said as he began shuffling the cards like an old time professional poker player. “Around here it's an unspoken and unwritten rule. I've never heard of gun play at a poker game here.”

“Oh, there has been,” Jack informed them as he picked up his drink, saluting with the glass to the cowboy who'd brought the bottle. “But the usually have to deal with Marshal Derringer. I'll just say the last time weren't pretty.” He took a swig of his drink and set the glass down. Shani noted to herself that these four players seemed to have a never ending well of money available to them. Each time the girl that carried chips walked around they always bought more. Waitresses cruised the spacious tavern carrying cigars, drinks, chips and more for the many patrons who had come in to fill this quaint place. There was even a stage for entertainers.

Each evening there was entertainment, and tonight was no different. The poker game seemed to come to a halt as the stage became lit up with the floor lights and the manager of the tavern, the friendly bar tender, walked onto the stage.

“If I could have your attention, everyone,” he called out to the crowd in a boisterous voice. “Each night we have a new entertainer join us, and tonight is no different. Two of our wonderful girls have joined tonight with a very special and surprise guest. Miss Pania Alow, known to most as the scourge of the New England states, Pale Rider. Tonight, we are delighted to find a softer and gentler side to Miss Alow, as she and our usual house will be pleased to perform for you all.”

Shani groaned as she seemed to sink into the chair just a bit. The crowd clapped loudly as the three ladies came onto the stage, dressed in red and black dresses complete with all the finery expected to be seen on ladies who performed the interestng line dances seen in larger halls in larger centers. As the performers lined up on stage, a fiddle player and a banjo player took their seats beside the stage. And the three ladies began evening's entertainment, singing in perfect harmony, beginning slowly, and sultry.

You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring

As the first few lines echoed throughout the tavern, the fiddle and banjo picked up the tempo immediately, and the three ladies began dancing in unison on the stage, hands clutching the dress as they would perform a high kick in time to the music, giving just a hint of another show to the audience.

You finally took my hand
You finally took my hand
It took a nip of gin
But you finally
took my hand
You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring

A bass player joined in, strumming the strings in time to the beat as the ladies went back to their quick dance, bringing the crowd to clapping in time to the music. A few of the patrons let out a whistle every now and then. Shani peeked toward the stage and saw Pania give her wink as she performed another high kick. The elven gunslinger just muttered oh my lord and sighed slightly.

Mama don't approve
Mama don't approve
Daddy says he's the best in town
And mama don't approve
You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring

The fiddle player brought the crowd to a boisterous clapping as the ladies danced on stage in time to the music. Each of them offered a broad smile to the crowd, knowing that their endeavor was paying off, just like magic. And just like magic, without little to no practice, they kept singing in perfect harmony at the appropriate intervals.

Baby's on its way
Baby's on its way
Say I do and kiss me quick
'Cause baby's on its way

The music became quick as the ladies danced on stage, the final part just around the corner as the crowd clapped in time to the music louder and louder, as though to entice the dancers to do more. The banjo picked up the pace as the ladies sang the final line, ending the song with a flare just for the crowd.

I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring

As the banjo player struck the last chord the crowd rose to their feet in a standing ovation, very appreciative of the short, but entertaining number. Even Shani slowly rose to her feet and clapped for the performance. The three ladies bowed in appreciation of the applause and quickly left the stage, followed by the band members. Eventually, the crowd returned to their seats.

The poker players tossed in their chips as the game began to resume. “You seem less than enthused about the performance,” Nick said as he nudged Shani.

“Y'all don't ride with 'er,” she said with a huff as she tossed her opening bet into the pot. “So I'll fergive ya fer thet.” She took a look at her cards before the game began in earnest and sighed. “Well, look like my luck jist ran out.”

lyrics from White Trash Wedding as performed by the Dixie Chicks

Gunslingers, Vampires and Saviours, Pt. 7

Evening had set upon the small village, and the celebration continued. The villagers decided it was indeed time for a celebration of freedom from an oppressor. And Shani and Pania took center stage. The food was extravagant, the music loud and the laughter, well it was something that both elves had not seen in quite some time since their arrival on Earth.

As the sun began to set, Pania sat by the camp fire, her hands cupping a mug of cider, and she just listened to the sounds that surrounded her. It wasn't long before the lithe gunslinger joined her, taking up a patch of ground beside the bard as she sat cross legged on the ground. Pania smiled as Shani took her seat.

“Sorry 'bou' ye 'at,” Pania said with a small smile.

“Hell, I think I kin git a new one,” Shani replied with a sigh. “Losin' the hat's least o' my problems. 'Sides, I were too busy thinkin' 'bou' getting' outta thet place.” They both sat quietly and listened to the music, shook hands with the occasional villager and even accepted more cider. “Whoa!” Shani remarked as she took a sip. “Figger this stuff's fer special occasions, it's got a might good kick ta it." Pania laughed at the comment, then smiled as a small girl approached the two elves.

“I... I want to give you somethin',” she said rather timidly. Shani and Pania watched as the girl took out a hat from behind her back and handed it to Shani. Similar in style to her old Stetson, but much newer. She took the gift with a smile and inspected it carefully.

“Well thank ya, darlin',” she said with a grin. “I 'ppreciate this.” To emphasize her statement, she carefully plopped the hat on her head, brushing down the brim a bit. “Need ta work it in a bit, but thet'll be jist fine.” She smiled to the small girl, who stepped forward and gave both elves a hug before running off to join her friends.

Pania watched the girl a moment, then turned her attention to Shani. The lithe elf looked to Pania somewhat confused. Pania didn't have lusting eyes toward Shani this time. They were much more respectful. “We make a good team, ye know,” she finally said.

Shani smirked, reminded of the past two days that they spent together. “I reckon yer right 'bout thet,” she replied with a sigh, then turned her attention fully to Pania. “Shreveport, huh?”

*****

Captain Samuel Williams paced back and forth in the small room as he waited. He had been in Harrisburg for the past four days, and still nothing to report. No orders either. So all he had to do was wait. But four days was beginning to drag, he had a need to get back on the road and hunt down his quarry, Black Mask and now the gunslinger known as Pale Rider.

The door to his apartment opened as one of his men rushed in, carrying a letter with him. Williams stood straight as he waited for the soldier to read the message. “Good news, I hope,” he said in a calm voice. Inside, he was in knots.

“Received word from a few ranchers, Sir,” the soldier informed him. “There was some activity between here and Reading. And a few farmers said they saw a pair of riders heading south, toward West Virginia.”

Williams considered this information carefully before he finally gave a solemn nod. “Inform the other men to prepare their horses. We ride within the hour.” The soldier quickly saluted, rushing off to tend to his orders. Williams smiled as the soldier left.

Finally, they could pick up the trail again.

*****

Franklin, West Virginia

Marshal Martin Derringer sat back in the saddle and watched the sky carefully. Derringer wasn't a small man, standing at six foot eight inches tall. And his olive toned skin was not a common site among the settlers. His life was also a mystery to them. All that really mattered was he protected the area with a vengeance. As he looked to the sky, he knew that he would have to do so again.

The clouds seemed to rush across the sky, looking much like a group of hunters chasing after their prey. Derringer narrowed his eyes as he spoke in a low tone. “Huntsman. What is it you seek? What is it you want? And how is it that I can stop you for the second time in a millennium.”

The adventure continues...

Gunslingers, Vampires and Saviours, Pt. 6

Shani and Pania carefully traversed the narrow hallways that lead to the central tower. It was almost like they knew they would find their quarry there. So far, they hadn't seen hide nor hair of the elven vampire. And as they traveled, they discovered more information about the woman. A parchment discarded here and there as though someone carelessly took a journal and walked throughout the halls of the castle, randomly ripping pages out and discarding them without a care. They knew she was from their home world. She described sights that both Shani and Pania recognized. They knew she was ancient. Pania recognized things written that she'd read about as a child, some dating back to the Troubles. And they knew she'd come to Earth a long time ago. There were descriptions of her time in Europe, especially near the Balkan states, most often in Romania. And the description of her travels to America.

Each parchment, Pania carefully placed in her inside pocket of her duster. She would save them and piece them together later. If there was a later, that is.

Shani carefully opened a large oak door with the toe of her boot, surprised that it hung slightly ajar. The door mildly protested, but swung out slowly to reveal a large library. Row upon row of shelves revealed books. Some collected from the vampire's days before she found Earth, others since she arrived on Earth. Pania marveled at the titles and authors. Some of the books were written over six hundred years ago. The shelves seemed rather odd, built in this rather circular room. The outer shelves hugged the walls, but the next row seemed to begin to spiral inward, with a small break here and there to move easily through the stacks. The pair of gunslingers soon discovered why.

In the center of the spiral was a large circular map. Half of it was recognizable as Earth, the other half, their home world. Elven script provided a circular border around the map itself. And laying on the map seemed to be markings reminiscent of a summoning circle. Pania began to work right away as she carefully read the inscriptions as Shani watched the room for any movement.

“Whatcha got?” Shani finally spoke after Pania read half of the inscription. She had been writing it down as she was doing so, keeping a record of the find.

“Seem ta be the final stage o' a bindin' spell,” she said in a whisper as she completed writing the text down. “Need ta find the b'ginnin' o' it.”

“Great,” Shani remarked with a huff as she looked back to the books. “Let's jist hope thet vampire's got a catalog somewheres. Maybe she's all nice an' organized.” The lithe elf began looking over the books neatly piled on the closest shelves, smiling as she did so. “Seem she's got all the elven texts sittin' right here, nearest the circle.”

“'Ow convenient,” Pania smirked as she joined Shani and inspected the books. “There's a lo' 'ere tha' seem were stolen from ol' Magic Schools long since gone.” Her fingers ran quickly over the books, almost seeming to speed read the titles and catching an understanding of their content. “Good thin' the authors o' said books kept it simple when titlin' their work.” Shani smirked slightly and turned to look at the summoning circle.

That's when her keen elven senses picked something up. She turned quickly, and felt a force hitting her in the chest that sent her flying back against a stack of books. Like a domino effect, the stack toppled and crashed into the next stack, continuing the chain until the last stack slammed against the wall. Shani had a death grip on her Colts and raised them as she sneered toward the Vampire as she made her appearance.

“Figger y'all must be Ya'Row,” Shani said with a growl. The name they had also gleaned from the discarded parchments. “Bit messy leavin' yer diary all thrown 'bout like thet. Anyone could jist pick it up an' read it.”

“Perhaps something I will have to consider in the future,” the vampire replied as she made herself known to them. Her clothing suited the style of dress of Europeans, with a low cut top, knee high boots, tight leather slacks, all in black, naturally. Her eyes seemed to glow with a bright red tint, her lips seemed painted in a blood red, and her fangs were visible. Hungry, is what she seemed. Hungry, and angry. “A pair of trespassers. How unfortunate for you.” She looked to Pania, the elven bard had a pistol trained on the vampire, only causing Ya'Row to laugh in an eerie tone that would send chills down anyone's spine. “Put away that pop gun, love. You know that won't have any effect on me.” Ya'Row smiled seductively, causing Pania to shake just slightly as the vampire's hypnotic effect began to take hold.

Always make certain that both angles are covered.

Shani began firing right away, bullets hitting their mark easily. Ya'Row sneered and screamed as the silver bullets did their work. But she was still strong, and while the silver did work its magic, it was a great deal slower than it was with the brood. “Start the ritual!” Shani shouted out to Pania who seemed to snap awake and began pulling books off the shelves and flipping them open quickly. Shani fired one pistol as she reloaded the other, a difficult move but one she'd mastered over the years. Ya'Row on the other hand merely walked as though shrugging off each bullet. She grabbed Shani by the collar and slammed her up against a book shelf.

Shani's hat fell to the floor, her hair tussled and tossed, hung over her ears. And this made Ya'Row stop for a brief moment. Shani snickered as it allowed her some time. “Hi! Bet ya never thought ta see more elves. We was in the neighbourhood an' d'cided ta stop in, catch up.” Her quip gave her enough time to finish loading the Colt, and the chamber reloading sounded out clearly. Point blank, Shani lifted the pistol and pressed it to the vampire's forehead, firing without hesitation. Ya'Row tumbled back and screamed a hideous scream of pain.

What was more important, she had tumbled back into the summoning circle.

“I GO' IT!” Pania shouted and began to read the elven text aloud. The room began to shake as the text surrounding the summoning circle began to glow. This naturally only enraged Ya'Row. She seemed to growl and lunge for Pania, but the elven bard was ready as she fired her Smith and Wesson directly at the vampire, the bullet slamming into her chest and sending her stumbling back.

The realization that these were elves, adept with magic and able to read the elven language, had taken Ya'Row aback. She hadn't planned for this contingency on Earth. It was never even thought of. In her own smug way, she had never realized that if she could find the portal to Earth, then other elves probably could as well.

A bright shaft of magical light flowed from the circle, trapping Ya'Row inside. Pania had finished the inscription from the book and took out the paper she had written the text upon. Shani loaded her Colts again and drew Ya'Row's attention to her, firing upon the vampire. Each bullet became more and more painful than the last. And Pania read the inscription in a bold and loud voice.

The summoning circle began to change, the center of the circle seemed to open up, and a obelisk began to rise. Shackles hung lifelessly from the obelisk, an indication that this object had a special meaning in some twisted way to the elven vampire. Ya'Row tried to reach for Pania, grabbing in vain as Pania read the text. Black tendrils lifted themselves up from the circle, ensnaring Ya'Row. And then the chains came to life.

Like metal snakes they reached out for Ya'Row. Pania's voice grew louder as she began the last part of the ritual. This would be it, the end. At least for now. The chains violently grabbed Ya'Row and hauled her back to the obelisk, snaking around her body and holding her firm. Once in place, four large stones rose up from the floor, encasing the obelisk and the vampire inside. Pania's last words were nearly choked out by the screams from Ya'Row and the din created by the magic that rushed through the room. Both elves watched as a portal began to open underneath the stone crate, slowly, it lowered itself inside the portal. Where it's destination was, neither Pania nor Shani dared venture a guess.

Pania rushed to Shani's side, grabbing her arm and pulling her to cover as books began rattling off the shelves and flying toward the portal. It was as if a vortex had opened and was sucking everything into it. The air began to howl as the obelisk sunk deeper and deeper inside, books and papers following along with it. Pania clutched herself close to Shani as the two elves huddled together, waiting out the storm. As the obelisk disappeared inside the vortex, the air seemed to scream. Just when it was becoming the most unbearable, it simply stopped altogether.

Both elves stayed close to the floor, slowly looking up to ensure the coast was clear. Shani looked over to Pania with a somewhat annoyed look on her face. She leaned in close and whispered. “Why I git the feelin' y'all pulled me down jist ta cop a feel?”

Pania grinned jist slightly and shrugged. “Better tha' 'en getting' sucked up with the wave ta come.” She sighed and rose to her feet, holding out her hand as she offered Shani some help up. Shani looked around the room and took a deep breath, as though she'd put a lot of work in. The lithe gunslinger pressed a hand against her chest where Ya'Row had struck her, and winced just a bit.

“Thet's gonna hurt in the mornin',” Shani seemed to hiss out as she fought back the pain. She stood tall, stretching a bit to work out the kinks, but catching sight of the look Pania had. She studied the elven bard a moment, then realized that something was most definitely wrong. Pania seemed to be watching the room carefully, and listening. “What is it?”

“We're no' done yet,” Pania said quietly as she seemed to be listening. That was when the first tremor took place. The castle seemed to rock violently back and forth. Both elves looked around excitedly, trying to find a place to escape. “This way!” Pania directed as she pulled Shani toward a doorway. Shani followed without question, her feet moving quickly as she kept pace with the elven bard.

They didn't watch the walls or the fixtures as they raced through the building, they only searched for the doors out. Pillars shook and tumbled to the floor, weakening the ceiling above them. Large cracks formed in the floor, and still, the elves raced on. Pania almost dragged Shani along behind her at times as they drew closer and closer to the entrance they had come through. She prayed that it would still be open.

Light began to shine in through the windows. The sun was rising, and this only made the building shake that much more. “There! This way!” Pania shouted as she saw the caved in wall. Both had to dodge falling debris as they made their way to it. First Pania, and then Shani. They raced as fast as they could away from the building, feeling somewhat better as the first rays of dawn began to greet them.

“Git ta the horses,” Shani called out, still in a full run. “This buildin's gonna blow, an' ain't no way I'm stickin' 'roun' ta watch the fireworks. Pania only followed, panting heavily as she willed her legs to keep pumping faster. They raced into the small clearing they had made earlier, both horses were still there, but they were getting jittery and skittish. Shani grabbed the reins of her horse and mounted it quickly as Pania climbed into the saddle of her own. They didn't pause to watch the castle, they just high tailed it, racing the horses as fast as they could. Behind them, the building was already crumbling violently, fiery explosions causing even more damage.

They had to ride hard and fast.

*****

Frederick Van Bueren stood beside his son as they watched the road. The entire village was brought suddenly out of their beds by the distant explosions, followed by the tremors in the earth. Each person knew that the castle was destroyed, now they just had to hold out hope for the two that had gone to destroy the vampires.

They waited and waited. Not budging until someone might catch site of them.

“I fear they may have been killed,” suggested the vicar, a hint of sadness in his voice. “They sacrificed themselves, to save this village.” Some of the villagers bent their heads in solemn prayer, but Frederick kept watching the road. His eyes never left, even as some of the villagers began to return quietly to their homes.

Along the road, he saw movement. A pair of tiny dots seemed to travel slowly, but he smiled as they drew closer. His smile turned into a triumphant laugh as he recognized the two riders. They were not only successful, but they were also alive. The entire village heard his triumphant shout, and they turned to look. Many saw what he saw, and the smiles quickly spread on their faces.

Pania Alow and Shani Wennemein rode slowly into the village. They were tired, bruised, and beaten. But they were also victorious. Shani looked up and smiled as she saw the villagers. “Howdy y'all,” she said, a tired smile on her face. “Ain't it a nice day fer an early mornin' picnic. Y'all kin watch the sun rise.”

Both elves brought their mounts to a halt as Frederick and his son approached. “We had feared the worst,” he simply said. “But there is always hope.”

Shani grinned and shook her head as she took her first look back down the road. “Take a lot more 'n some castle blowin' itself sky high ta take out the likes o' us,” she said as she turned to smile down at Frederick and Dieter. “Ain't no worries 'bout thet.”

Gunslingers, Vampires and Saviours, Pt. 5

Shani grinned as she stepped easily into the room, hands held onto her gun belts as she looked about the room. Pania shot her a glance that simply said are ye feckin' crazy. Shani just shrugged and shouted out in her usual way. “YEEEEEHAW! Howdy boys!” The vampires stopped feeding for a moment, looking somewhat bewildered as to why someone so brazenly would enter their domain. One of them slowly rose to his feet, letting the lifeless form of the woman he feasted upon drop with a thud to the floor.

The young vampire snorted a laugh as he looked to the others of the clutch. “Look at this,” he said with a laugh as he wiped blood from his lips. “We have a regular gunslinger in our midst.” He turned to face Shani once again. “I suppose you happen to be the fasted gun this side of the Mississippi, too.”

“Hell no,” Shani said with a smirk as she seemed to rock back and forth on the heels of her boots. “I'm the best dang gunslinger this here country ever seen. 'R will ever see.” As an added exclamation point, she quickly drew pistols and started firing. Normally against the vampires, there would have been no effect, but these were taken by surprise by the silver bullets that ripped through the air toward them.

As Shani fired, Pania steeled herself and plunged forward, moving to stand at Shani's back. Pania wasn't as good a gunslinger as Shani was, but she was no slouch either. Her timing was impeccable. Just as Shani had run out of bullets, Pania began firing, allowing the lithe gunslinger time to reload. As soon as Shani was ready, Pania would be reloading her own. The vampires slowed down a great deal with each hit, the poison of the silver working its way through their bodies and slowing them down to a crawl.

One vampire drew to close to Pania, and she lashed out with a roundhouse, landing her boot square in the vampire's chest and knocking him back and off his balance slightly. This was followed with the report of her Smith and Wesson point blank at the vampire's head.

“Stakin' time,” Shani called out as she continued to fire. The small village had prepared them well, right down to some of the innovative weapons they themselves had managed to create. Which included the stake-bracers. A quick release on the bracers launched a stake out of a small sheath, shooting it out toward its target at a velocity much like a crossbow bolt. Shani was the first to demonstrate this as one vampire tried draping his arms around her. The stake shot out from the device attached to her wrist and drove itself through the creature's chest. It lurched back slightly, then fell over as it's body began to disintegrate into nothing.

Pania picked up the pace as she took out another vampire, using high kicks to distract it as she positioned herself to thrust a stake through the creature's heart. A second one felt the sting of a stake as it tried to advance, but the elven bard was too fast for it, it's body slowed by the silver poison's effect on it's system. A fourth one dropped as Shani let a stake fly point blank into it's chest. And then there was only one.

“Cut an' run 'r fight an' die,” Shani suggested to the lone vampire with a grin. “Choice is yers, either way y'all gonna be dead by dawn, I wager.” The vampire looked between Shani and Pania, hissing angrily, then bolted for the door. Shani moved quickly, cartwheeling over a chair and grabbing a stake out of an already dead vampire. As her feet landed she drove the stake through the vampire's back, letting the force of her body's momentum carry through and push the stake home. The vampire hissed in rage and pain as his body began to become more lifeless than it had before.

The five were dead, and Shani and Pania hadn't taken a scratch. This was almost too easy. Pania approached the couple cowering in the corner. “Ye alright?” she asked, knowing the answer as soon as she had spoken the words. They were physically fine, but mentally, it would take a while to forget. The woman just looked at Pania, her eyes wide with fright. Pania looked around the room for a moment, as Shani gathered the bodies of the fallen. She'd start the vampire bonfire soon enough.

“Here,” the elven gunslinger called out as she tossed a pair of stakes to Pania. The bard caught them easily and reloaded her bracers, then her pistols as she continued to look around the room. It was an old kitchen, and it seemed as though not much had been updated. Even the tapestries and mirrors on the walls looked well aged.

Well aged, but the mirrors still worked well enough. Pania stopped as she studied the mirror she spied carefully. “Odd 'ow a buncha vampires would keep these thin's, aye,” she commented as she continued to stare at the reflection. In the mirror, she could see a good portion of the room. Including the woman who remained on the floor.

But not the man.

Her ears perked up slightly and she twirled fast and hard, a stake already in her hand. It caught solid in the chest of the vampire, taking him completely by surprise. Pania looked into the vampire's eyes and smirked as his form began to wither. “Elven ears, lad,” she explained easily to the creature. “E'en with ye preternatural abilities, I can still 'ear a boot scuff on the stone floor.” She planted a boot in his chest and pushed back, sending the creature crashing to the ground. Pania looked over to the woman and sighed. Before they had a chance to act, the vampire had fed from her, killing her quickly. “She ne'er e'en 'ad a chance ta scream.”

“Hate ta say it,” Shani commented as she dragged the last body onto the pile. “But I'd rather not be draggin' victims 'long with us. I hate thet she died, but she's prolly in a better place now. Ain't no one able ta walk 'way from a scene like this an' be able ta act normal ever 'gain.” Pania only nodded. It was heartless, but it was true. The elven bard just watched as Shani lit a match and tossed it onto the pile of bodies. It was amazing how quickly the lit on fire, like kindling in a freshly dug fire pit. Pania's eyes studied the room again, until something caught her eye.

A piece of parchment lay by a wood burning stove. Nothing really out of the ordinary, but it had writing on it. Writing that Pania recognized. She bent down to pick it up, covering her nose and mouth as the flames licked higher. Shani grabbed her arm and lead her out of the room into the adjacent hallway. This afforded Pania time to study the parchment closer.

By this time, Shani took note of what Pania had found. “Whatcha got?”

“Foun' this on the floor,” Pania said in a slow voice as she furrowed her brow. “An' this mean we're no' the only wanderers.” Shani gave the elven bard a perplexed look, forcing Pania to explain. “'S written in elven.” The confusion was replaced with shock as Shani slide beside Pania to take a closer look. “Look like it taken from a journal,” Pania stated.

Indeed it was.

My needs are met on this plane, it would seem I have found a place worthy of my attention. No mages or knights to attempt to take me down. These humans are so easily fooled. Only the rare few know of my true nature, my true goals. Those usually find themselves turned, if worthy enough, to add to my army. When the time is right, I will indeed have my army, and we shall return home, using the portal. Unfortunate that the portal also happens to be the one thing to bind and trap me. Perhaps it is a good thing no one on this plane can read elven.

“So,” Shani said with a snort of a laugh. “Dealin' with an elven vampire. Jist great.” She sighed as she looked to the tapestries on the walls. “Guess we jist gotta find this bindin' portal 'en.”

“There's more,” Pania said pointing to the parchment. “Seem tha' this vampire 'as put it in a chamber, uses it like it's own private study an' bed chambers. We jus' 'ave ta find the room, an' then we find the text o' the ritual.”

“Figger this vampire'd keep thet information close at hand,” Shani replied, sounding more like a question than an actual statement.

“It's worth a shot,” Pania said with a shrug as she continued to study the parchment. The writing was very familiar in a way, Pania furrowed her brow as she continued to look over it. “I think I know this.” She looked to Shani, her brow furrowed slightly. “Coupla nigh's 'go, I 'ad this strange dream. A woman kept comin' ta me, callin' out ta me. I kept seein' pages from a book.” She held up the parchment so Shani could see it clearly. “All wit' this 'and writin'.”

“Female elven vampire. Jist great. This here world brings 'bout some o' the worst o' our world, don't it?” The question was rhetorical, the lithe gunslinger expecting no reply as she looked about the hallway they had stepped into. Shani let out a long sigh before she spoke. “So what's the plan 'en?”

“Plan?” Pania replied as she quickly stuffed the parchment into her duster coat. “We find this text fer the ritual an' bind 'er. Failin' tha'...” Pania said with a shrug as she checked her pistols again.

Shani followed suit, replacing spent cartridges, as she completed Pania's unfinished sentence. “Then we jist kill the bitch.”