5/23/2006

08:13 PM
Logfile from Foundry.

It's been a hard two days from Temple, the spring nights in the mountains
  cold as a demon's heart and the high sun over the low steppes hot as hell 
  itself. It's been two days in the saddle, and not normal days either - ass busting 
  12 hour rides up and down steep buttes and across endless salt flats that 
  rise up a fine white dust to choke and blind. 

Early this morning y'all came to the Humble River, a thick sludge of a river
  that hasn't yet been fed by the melting snow from the mountains and so stinks 
  of frog eggs and thick mud just thawing from winter. Down the banks of the 
  river you went to where it joins the Chenawonduk River and the Pierce River. 
  There on the long muddy spit of land where the rivers join you find your 
  first town: Three Rivers.

Three Rivers sits right at the edge of the Vineyard, right on the edge of the
  land of the Mountain Folk and the mining towns of the Territorial Authority. 
  It's a hard looking little town, full of sod and adobe houses that are so 
  different than the timber-frame and brick cottages of most of the towns of 
  the Faithful. As you come into town the sun is just past noon, and the muddy 
  streets are full of folks who eye your coats as you ride by. About half of 
  them look happy to see you, about half bite at their lips like they're not 
  sure what this means. 

It's about half way up the main street of town, parallel to the stinking Humble
  and the bright-cold Chenawonduk that you spot two men heading towards you 
  resolutely. One is saying to the other, voice just loud enough to carry,” 
  and see if they don't fix it right up. I mean it, sir, ain't no reason to go 
  calling the marshals in, not with the Dogs in town."

Sister Chase's back is rounded softly, her shoulders curved in and her head down
  a mite; the brim of her hat casts a long dark shadow over her face. The 
  rocking of the long ride in the hot sun has lulled her half off to sleep,
  but when Sal changes pace, she stirs and shifts taller in the saddle.

Sister Hannah raises her eyebrows and looks significantly at the others and
  then dismounts to meet the two men, hoping the others follow suit.

Sister Clementine tips her hat and waves at everyone they pass. "Hey! Howdy! How
  y'all doing?"

Sister Abigail manages to look cool and composed despite the heat and dust of
  the road - though only those awake late at night would know the hours she's 
  spent carefully washing dust out of her petticoats and setting her things to 
  rights. Despite her calm appearance, Abigail glances uncertainly at the two 
  men, seeming at a loss - one of the few times the group has seen her this 
  way.

Sister Chase kicks her feet back and swings down from the too-tall horse,
  winding the reigns around her fist, and tipping the brim of her hat at the 
  men who approach. "What's this talk of marshals, now?"

Sister Abigail swings down beside Chase, trying not to show just how sore she
  is. She holds the reins of her horse and smiles at the two men from under her 
  broad-brimmed hat, letting the other girls take the lead.

Sister Hannah moves forward and a bit to the other side of Sister Chase,
  looking back to see how Sister Clementine is doing

Sister Clementine also dismounts, patting her gigantic steed, Daisy, on the
  nose, and coming up alongside the others.

The two men come up and both tip their hats, as many folk have been doing to
  Clementine on her way through town. The fellow to the right is short and 
  stocky, got the heavy build and leathery face of a rancher and he looks at 
  the Dogs like he sees nothing but Coats. The fellow to the left is taller and 
  fair, with pale hands that don't look like they're used to hard working, and 
  he looks at the Dogs like he sees nothing but young girls. 

The shorter fellow hold out a hand, choosing Chase mostly by the default of her
  being closest, "I'm Steward Felkirk, pleased to meet you. We've been a bit 
  without Dogs, and we sure are glad to see y'all." He grins wide at the other 
  Dogs, while the taller man looks askance at y'all, one right after the other. 
  "My friend here, Niles Strindberg's his name, well, he's had something stolen 
  from him, and he's a mite anxious to have it back."

Sister Hannah glances at Chase "I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Why don't we go
  someplace more comfortable to discuss the situation?"

Sister Chase shakes the proffered hand in a strong, sure grip. She looks from
  one face to the other, her eyes squinting in the sun. The leather coat 
  brushes the leather chaps like the sound of desert sand on desert sand. She 
  nods at Hannah's suggestion, and then at the Steward. "Nicetameetcha. That 
  porch over there should do."

Hearing that one of these men is the Steward, Abby seems to come to life.
  "Steward Felkirk," she says, smiling appealingly, "Thank you so much for your 
  kind welcome." When he turns to her, she shakes the man's hand with calm 
  authority, stepping slightly forward as she does so. "Of course we'd be glad 
  to help you and your town. Perhaps we should take Sister Hannah's suggestion 
  - is there somewhere that we could sit and hear the rest of the story?" She 
  smiles and nods to the other man as well, but keeps her focus on the Steward.

The Steward nods to you all, and ushers the group up to the nearby porch. As he
  goes he calls out to several of the boys on the street and tells 'em to see to 
  the Dog's horses. A few minutes later y'all are in shade with some lemonade 
  at hand and your horses being tied up by some 12 year old boys who are eyeing 
  the only all-girl group of Dogs they've ever seen. "Well, um, I'm not sure 
  how to do this... never been part of an investigation before. Where should we 
  start?" The whole time Niles doesn't speak a word, and doesn't sit when the 
  Steward sits, but stands awkwardly at the rail, with a prim look like he 
  suspects he's somehow being made fun of.

Sister Chase leans her back against the porch rail, sifting on her heels and
  takes a drink of the lemonade. "Well, what all has been stolen?"

Sister Abigail glances around the group quickly before speaking, noting
  reactions. "Perhaps it would be best if Brother Niles shared his story with 
  us, in his own words."

Sister Hannah sits down, hands neatly folded and listens attentively

Sister Clementine nods encouragingly.

Sister Abigail sips her lemonade, looking over the edge of her glass at Brother
  Niles and the Steward.

Sister Abigail gives Brother Niles a radiant, encouraging smile as she waits
  for him to speak.

The Steward looks to Niles and makes a "well, go ahead" gesture with his hand,
  and starts pouring lemonade for everyone. He drops two big chunks of ice into 
  every one of the Dog's glasses, leaving none for himself. 

Niles turns and looks you all over again, and then sighs, "I'm sorry, but this
  is silly. I didn't come to you so you could get some girls to ask around town 
  Felkirk. I really think I should just take this to the Territorial Marshals."

Sister Clementine says "Well, Mr. Strindberg, I know we are just girls, but
  we're also Dogs, and even if we are new at it, I'm sure we'll do our very 
  best to help you out."

Sister Chase raises up a slow eyebrow and looks evenly at the man, the light
  falling across her face just sharply enough to underscore her displeasure in 
  his words. Her shoulders come off the porch post, and line up squarely with 
  her hips.

Sister Abigail's eyes flicker briefly to Sister Chase, then return to Brother
  Niles. "But surely, Brother, if the Steward feels that this is wisest ... ?" 
  She trails off as if expecting him to finish her sentence.

Niles looks between Abigail and Falkirk and slides his eyes away to the street,
  smoothly avoiding getting trapped into any comment too direct. His only 
  answer is, "He is your steward, I am not a member of your Faith, and I do not 
  hold by your precepts."

Sister Hannah looks up from where she's sitting "A point, but you did come to
  the Steward for help, because he is an authority here, and he came to us 
  because we have more authority than he does to deal with situations like this 
  one. You appealed to our system of authority, so now you have to accept what 
  comes of it!" She gives a final, exact nod.

That makes Niles' blink, and he looks at Hannah a large bit more seriously than
  he had a minute before, like he realizes there's a brain there rather than 
  just long hair and a coat. But he still says, quick as a snap, "I came to a 
  friend for help, because I wanted to avoid trouble with my neighbors. That 
  doesn't mean that I've formally applied to your church or your process for 
  intercession, and as such still have the right to do what I wish. If I'd made 
  a formal plea, your argument would be correct, but as is, I did not do so."

Sister Chase's eyes have never come un-narrowed, and she's never let them
  stray from him for a blink. She doesn't like his Back East accent or his
  uppity face. He reminds her of her heathen father, the one that abandoned her
  because he didn't think her good enough to stay for. She turns her body
  sharply to face him, and her heavy leather coat slaps against the post 
  underlining her words with a thud. "Ain't no matter if you believe or not. 
  The King of Life don't need your testimony to shine on. Ain't no matter if 
  you made your plea formal, neither. We ARE the law and we ARE the territory. 
  You can have your words heard, or these others can give us your side. No 
  matter. But what we say binds, right here. right now."

When Chase rounds on him Niles backs up a step, bumping right against the
  railing at the sudden vision of female fury incarnating before his eyes. He 
  draws himself up to his full height, which is impressive even if his gangly 
  width don't match it, and says, "Now see here, this is exactly the kind of 
  thing I was worried about! How dare you say that I have to follow your laws 
  just because you want me to?" His voice is strong, but his hands are shaking 
  and he quickly backs down the steps, "I do not have to stay and listen to 
  this anymore."

Sister Clementine's hair is in braids and there are freckles on her nose. She's
  cute as a newborn pup, and she jumps up as Niles starts to leave. "No, wait, 
  Mr. Strindberg. It may take a powerful long time for your marshals to make 
  their way out to here, whereas we're here right now and wantin' to help. 
  'Sides, we can't really go and make matters worse, 'less we were to go 
  stealing more of your things." Clem looks chagrined, "Oh, but we won't steal 
  your things. Honest!"

Those long legs stop when Clem starts talking. Even smart and quick and full of
  lawyer's wiles as he is, Niles still has a hard time just walking away from 
  that puppy-dog face. So he stops a moment and sucks a breath through his 
  teeth, trying to regain his tattered composure. "Okay, okay... but, and I 
  don't mean offense ladies, but are you sure you're up for this? I know you do 
  things different out here, but where I was raised women do not carry guns, or 
  investigate crimes. I do not doubt your training, but do you really have the 
  instinct for this kind of work?"

Sister Hannah sighs and clucks disapprovingly at Niles, implying he should know
  better. He had a mother, after all!

The Winchester off her back in less than a blink of the eye, Sister Chase rolls
  it up over the back of her hand and cocks it in a threat that's only half as 
  effective as the toothy grin she gives him. She locks the butt against her 
  shoulder, tracks and shoots; The pigeon never had a chance. The body of 
  the bird, bloody and tattered, comes hurtling down straight at the man's head.

Sister Chase keeps that grin a thousand watt and fierce as barbed wire as she
  drops the barrel towards the ground aiming just in front of the man's feet. 
  "Instincts you say? Us "ladies" don't got none instincts a'tall, dontcha know.
  We's just sweet little pieces of fluff, we is. Sweet as sugar candy."

Niles jumps aside just in time to avoid exploded bird bits from soiling his
  nice from-Back-East suit. He blinks down at the bird, then up at Chase. Then 
  he looks to the other ladies, and notes the guns and the road-soil on all of 
  ‘em but Abby. He then promptly addresses Abby, "Well, I guess women here are a 
  tougher breed then back home. If you ladies are willing to help, I

Niles Strindberg says, "I'll be willing to hold off on calling the marshal a 
   day or two."

Sister Abigail smiles sweetly at Niles, but her fingers tighten on Chase's
  sleeve to stop her from any more ... theatrics. "Thank you kindly, Brother - 
  or is it Mister? We'd be more than happy to help, and I'm sure 
  there's something we can do. Now, why don't you sit down and have some of 
  this delicious lemonade, and you can tell us all about it?" To those who know 
  her, though, her sweet smile looks strained, and she's got her head cocked 
  slightly away from Chase and the weapon that just went off practically in her 
  ear.

Sister Chase 's grin flips from razor edged to genuine in an instant. That was
  some hell of a fun time, that was. When Abby touches her sleeve her eyes drop 
  to the lovely white hand and she softens a little, smiling at Abby broadly, 
  like she's just helped her over a puddle or something.

Sister Abigail doesn't even glance at Chase, though the hand loosens its grip
  slightly.

"Mister Strindberg, Niles Strindberg." He cautiously comes back to the porch,
  where Felkirk pours him a glass and gives him the kind of "I told you so" 
  look that only old and somewhat contentious friends can give. Niles takes the 
  drink and sits, at last, looking gingerly about the company of unlikely 
  looking law-women. 

"Well, I don't know how much there is to tell really. I was out at a dance in
  Fair Banks, that's a day up the Humble, when my house was burgled. I think my 
  neighbor may have seen something, but he's of your faith and wouldn't speak 
  of it -- which makes me suspect it was one of your faith who burgled me. They 
  took some money, which I would like back but which is not going to kill me if 
  it is not returned, and they took my grandmothers candlesticks which my 
  family brought all the way from the Old Country. I'm certain those 
  candlesticks are still here in town, as this was just two days ago, and I 
  would surmise the thief still has them. They are quite unique, and I imagine 
  in a town this size quite impossible to sell." This all comes out in a quick, 
  precise tone that none the less is just a bit too fast, a bit rattled by 
  events.

Sister Abigail nods. "And who might your neighbor be?"

It's the Steward who answers, "Brother Snow. He's our branches Counselor of
  Welfare and Fellowship. Good man, but a might distracted recently."

Sister Abigail nods, trying to look sage, though the lines of her shoulders are
  still tight and tense. "Well, Sisters? What else do you think we'd be best 
  learning here?" To the Steward, she adds, "If there's anything you feel we 
  should know about Brother Snow, I'm sure you'll see we learn it at the proper 
  time," her eyes flickering imperceptibly to Mister - not Brother - Strindberg.

Sister Hannah's lips tighten slightly learning that there are further troubles
  in town.

Sister Chase says ""Distracted how?"

Sister Abigail stops herself halfway through an eye-roll. They're not in Temple
  now, even if Chase isn't any more subtle than she was last week ... and the 
  week before ... and the week before that .....

At Chase's question, Niles stands up and says, "I am sure this is not my
  business. I also have work to attend to. If you have more questions to ask 
  me, you can find me at the office there." He points across the street towards 
  a prosperous and neatly tended looking Territorial Authority railway station 
  whose tracks aren't laid yet. "If there is anything more you'd like to know 
  now...?"

Sister Abigail smiles politely. "What, precisely, do you do at the railway
  station, Mister Strindberg?"

Niles stops at the edge of the stairs and says to Abby, "I am in charge of
  management until the local crews finish the bridge over the rivers and lay 
  the juncture rail to Bridal Falls. After that I will move there to manage the 
  eastern Desert district." None of you need to know all the specifics to know 
  that means he's rich, and connected. That's all implied in the tone.

Sister Abigail nods, apparently-genuine interest in her voice and an
  apparently-impressed expression on her face. "That must be fascinating work, 
  Mister Strindberg. I'm sure we'll be able to find you in your office there 
  with no trouble at all."

With a nod to Clementine and a smile to Abby, Niles says, "I look forward to
  that ladies." He then tips his hat to Chase and says, "Afternoon" before 
  strolling away. 

Once he's gone, Steward Felkirk chuckles, "You Dogs did a mighty nice job
  dealing with him. He's a good man, but so stiff you'd swear he creeks in a 
  strong breeze."

Sister Chase doesn't do well with small talk, and lost interest in the Back
  Easter the moment he backed down. She repeats, all business. "Distracted how?"

Getting up to pour some more lemonade, the Steward then says, "I'm not sure
  really. Trouble at home I think. He and his wife haven't been getting on, and 
  their kids have been running wild about town. Which is really unfortunate, 
  things being as they are."

Sister Abigail raises her eyebrows. "As they are, Steward?"

Sister Chase's interest looks piqued.

Sister Hannah looks concerned.

Sister Clementine's eyes are wide. "Maybe you ought to begin at the beginning,
  Steward Felkirk."

The Steward sits back down and nods out towards the town, which is still
  bustling in a way little towns don't normally bustle. "We used to be a 
  ranching town, but now with the railroad coming in there's a whole host of 
  newer families, wealthier families. We've got some serious haves in the 
  branch, and some serious have-nots. Everyone knows it'll just get more so 
  once the railroads have a stop here. Which has made things a might tense. 
  Brother Snow used to be in the middle there, but now days he's not so much, 
  and there is only so much I can do alone."

Sister Chase says "Them new families. They from Back East? They Faithful?"

He replies, "Mostly faithful. The Authority has been handling it pretty well,
  most of the crews in the area are Faithful men, and they moved here with 
  their families rather than coming out in tent towns like they used to."

Sister Abigail adds, "And his wife, and his - how many did you say there were?
  - children?"

The Steward points to a little farm house at the far edge of town, across the
  green water of the Pierce. "He lives over there, last farm at the edge. His 
  wife should be there, though she may be at the Chapel, this hour of day. 
  Three kids, oldest is 12." He pauses, "Also, if you could stop by on the way, 
  two of you at any rate, and give a blessing to old brother and sister 
  Brooks bridge, they live in the last house this side of the Pierce, and I’d be 
  obliged. They're getting on in years, and have both had pneumonia all winter."

Sister Hannah nods "I think we can manage that."

Sister Abigail's face takes on a softer expression. "Of course, Steward. Thank
  you for letting us know about them. We'll be sure to do that."

Sister Chase's brow furrows and she nods seriously. "We will definitely do,
  Steward. " And uncharacteristically polite, she adds, "Thanks for bringin' 
  that to our attention, Brother."

The Steward stands up and brushes off his pants, "Well then Dogs, I'm glad to
  have you. If you need me I'll either be at the Chapel" he points up along the 
  Humble to the tallest building in town, "or my ranch on the far side of the 
  Chun-a-duck. If you need any help, get me, any hour of day or night."

Sister Chase offers her hand to him, suddenly warm. "Will do Brother, will do."

Sister Abigail smiles again as she stands. "Of course, Steward. Thank you so
  much for your guidance in these matters."

Sister Hannah nods in agreement.

Sister Clementine pipes in, "And thanks for the lemonade, as well!"

The Steward shakes Chase's hand with a strong, firm grip. He tips his head to the
  other three, and sets off to get back to work. With a last grin, paternal and 
  fond, he says to Clementine, "You keep the pitcher, okay? Y'all can use that 
  house across there while you're in town. It belongs to my brother, and he's 
  out of town." With that he heads out.

Sister Hannah says "Why don't we go take our things inside and decide who's
  going where?"

Sister Abigail nods in agreement. "That's a good idea, Sister."

Sister Chase says "If it's all the same, Sisters, I'd like to go up to see
  Sister and Brother Brooksbridge. Ain't no good leaving the old alone, 
  especially coming on prayer time."

Sister Hannah says "I'll go with you!"

Sister Clementine says, brightly, "I guess that leaves you and me to go
  visiting Brother Snow, Sister Abigail."

Sister Abigail flatly says, "Let's take our things inside first. We can get
  this all settled there - in private."

Sister Clementine says "Sure thing!"

Without waiting for a reply, Abby heads down the steps and pulls her bundle off
  the horse, then pulls the door of the house open and lets it bang shut behind 
  her.

Sister Hannah quietly gets her things, too, and follows Abby

Sister Chase blinks likes she's been slapped, furrows her brow and heads into
  the house. Ain't much she's got to take in.

Sister Clementine cleans up the glasses and the pitcher of lemonade, then grabs
  her stuff and follows everyone along into the house.

Just inside the door, Chase is met by an Abigail that she hardly recognizes -
  cheeks flushed, eyes bright with tears, and mouth set with fury. The shorter 
  woman steps right up to Sister Chase, her head barely reaching to Chase's 
  chin, but that doesn't seem to deter her one bit. "Don't you ever, ever, ever 
  do that to me ever again." With each "ever," Abigail jabs her finger into 
  Chase's face, practically shaking with rage.

Sister Chase backs right up to the wall under the assault of Abby's rage, her
  eyes wide, stammering. "Abby? What'd I do Abby?" She bites her bottom lip a 
  moment, looking over the head of Abby to the other girls, painfully aware of 
  their eyes on her. This is one of those moments that etiquette has eluded 
  her, she can sense it. She gives the girl a hang dog look and pleads. "Please 
  Abby, please be patient with me. You know I wouldn't mean no harm."

Sister Abigail gestures, seemingly unable to find the words to articulate her
  rage. "That - you -," she points at the gun, "right against my," gesturing 
  somewhere near her ear, tears spilling down her cheeks now.

Sister Abigail says "I thought you were my *friend*!"

Sister Chase looks like she's been punched in the gut, tears, never before seen
  on Chase, threaten to spill from her eyes. She forgets that the other girls 
  are even there. "Oh! Abby! You OK? I didn't mean to hurt you Abby, I wouldn't 
  ever, *EVER* hurt you. You are my... friend. REALLY." She swallows hard.

Her face is flushed hard and the tone changes, not in desperation, but hot
  controlled anger. "But Abby. Ain't no man in the world, let alone some damn 
  heathen Back Easter got a right to turn his back on *YOU*. You're *too good* 
  for that, and I *couldn't* abide by it. You see?"

Now it's Abby who looks taken aback, taking a step back from Sister Chase, the
  color slowly beginning to fade from her cheeks. "I ... you ... you weren't 
  trying to hurt me? Or scare me? It was like thunder going off in my ear, and 
  I couldn't cry or flinch or show it at all, not in front of *them*, and it 
  was just, it was awful."

Sister Abigail shakes her head, wiping the tears away with the back of one
  hand. With a hint of acerbity in her tone, she says, "You just have to 
  *think* before you shoot, Chase. You didn't think what it would be like for 
  me to have the gun go off in my ear. What else don't you think about? Do you 
  even know?"

Sister Chase's tears finally spill out and she steps forward and sweeps Sister
  Abigail into her arms. For a moment, even if it's fleeting, her strong, 
  sinewy arms are a comfort, all encompassing; It's like everything Abby always 
  hoped Brother Jacob would feel like. Her voice is soft and dulcet in Abby's 
  ear, her breath warm and sweet... "I'm sorry Abby, you know I'd never hurt 
  you, and you needn't be afraid. I'll always be there. I'll always protect 
  you."

Sister Abigail relaxes into the hug, wiping the remaining tears on the worn
  leather shoulder of Chase's coat. She nods. It *is* nice to have someone to 
  take care of her - even if Sister Chase does have certain flaws as a 
  caretaker. "Just ... just don't do that again, okay?" She pulls her head back 
  and smiles at Chase - and everything's okay again.

Sister Chase nods. "I'll do my best by you, Abby. I swear I will.

Sister Abigail pushes away from Chase with a weak smile. "I'm -" and pauses
  almost imperceptibly as she sees the other girls watching, picking up nearly 
  seamlessly, "- sorry to have made such a scene. I know we have work to do and 
  duties to be about. If you'll just give me a moment to wash my face?" It 
  isn't really a question, as Abby bends to pick up her bundle and takes it 
  upstairs for a moment of privacy.

Sister Chase nods earnestly. "A'course", and she watches Abby go.