Første kapittel i en liten novelle

[Gunfreak]

Eller det er ikke en ekte novele, dette er egentlig bare et referat fra et spill jeg hadde med noen figurer.

 

Det jeg gjorde var å Skrive inledelse og det som leder opp til selve spillet, så spilte jeg og sjekket hva som skjedde i spillet, for å så skrive det inn i historen.

 

Dette er ikke akuratt skjønnlitratur, men det er et tidsfordriv

 

The town of Minersville is in South Dakota, it has a little fewer than one thousand miners, wives, cowboys and whores. What this town doesn’t know is that in the coming days and weeks it will be a small warzone as the Jackson five gang and the Anderson brothers fight in its streets and saloons.

 

Deputy O’Brian comes running up the dusty road and almost jumps though the doors of the sheriff’s office. Behind the desk in said office reading the paper is sheriff William Boyle, a grumpy middle-aged man, he is grumpy because for the past 6 months the Jackson five gang has used his town as their personal playground, so far nobody has been killed but a few of the whores have gotten slapped around, And while the gang hasn’t killed anybody in town, they are rumored to have killed 3 people during one of their many train robberies.

O’Brian stands panting in the office holding a telegram, “We are in trouble now boss, the Anderson brothers are on the way to town,” he hands over the telegram to Bill Boyle.

Bill looks at it and huffs, “why should I care that two brothers are on their way?”

“Don’t you know, they are working for the rail company, mostly shooting Indians and such, and there are three not two. They have not been hired by the company to take out the Jackson gang; the only problem is that they aren’t exactly nice guys. The oldest, Carl killed two men in Tombstone, for a time he was wanted for it but somehow he beat the rap.”

Bill huffs again, looks over the telegram for a second time then looks at O’Brian, O*Brian is about to say something when Bill cuts him off. “So what is the problem, we tell the brothers were the Jacksons hang out and they go kill them, and that’s that.” O’Brian looks uncomfortable, he respect Bill, but Bill doesn’t care or follow the world outside of Minersville.

While O*Brian reads everything about any gunfighter and lawman in the west, he even met Wild Bill a few years ago, he now tries to bring the problem forward to Bill without making himself look to important. “Well boss, the problem is that these brothers are known as trouble, Carl is known to take pleasure for killing redskins, and the youngest is a sadist, he once took two hours to kill a Indian woman, he is also one hell of a draw, few can mach him, but he has only killed Indians never white men. If the brothers come to town, they will shoot it up in order to take out the Jacksons.” Bill now huffs for a tried time “ Well we will soon know, the come tomorrow”

 

The next day around noon, the town was going though it’s usual paces, Bill and O’Brian sits outside the sheriff’s office, it’s a half warm early fall day, the sun still gives of warm but the wind has a bite. “Has the new deputies come yet?” Asks Bill knowing they hadn’t. “No boss” replies O’Brian knowing that Bill knew As they sit there three shapes appear down the street thought the dust, as they come closer it becomes clear that it’s the men they have been waiting for. The three men come to a stop in front of Bill and O’Brian, Carl takes charge. “Hallo Sheriff, My name is Carl, and these are my brothers, Spencer and Arthur. We are here to take care of your little problem with the Jackson five gang” Bill takes a second to scope out the men in front of him, they are all dressed in grey suits, that are tailored and look expensive, Carl is in his early fifties with grey hair and a grey moustache, he has a red silk vest under the suit jacket, on his hip sits a belt with two peacemakers. His younger brother holds a double barrel scattergun, he looks less impressive, the hat on his head doesn’t fit right and makes his head look small, and he also has some worn brown trousers that look nothing like the tailored trousers of his brothers. He to carries a pistol on his hip, but Bill can’t make out what metal is in the holster. The youngest brother Arthur to fields a .45 peacemaker, but his belt and holster are delicately detailed. The belt probably cost more than twice that of the gun, and that says something for the gun is also custom made. The whole getup probably cost more than a half a year’s salary; at least it would for Bill.

He then realizes that he has been staring at them for neigh on half a minute. He puts his fingers on his hat and replies. “Hello here, we have been expecting you, we don’t have any special rules here, you can carry your irons in town, but don’t go and think you can take on the Jacksons inside the town, if you do I’ll be forced to put you in jail.” Arthur then takes the lead “I heard you didn’t have a jail yet,” O’Brian defends his boss. “We have a place where we put drunks and trouble makers, I’m sure it would hold you too” Bill sees O’Brian’s temper getting up, and puts his hand on O’Brian’s chest. “Now, now I’m sure that won’t be necessary”

As they speak, four more shadows appear down the street towards the hotel; from the distance it’s already clear it’s the Jackson five gang, or at least four of them. Their dusters are clear as day; they come up to the Sheriff’s office standing maybe eight yards from the brothers. Carl and his brothers move to face the gang. Bill and O’Brian take up their guns, O’Brian fielding a Scattergun, and Bill with his Remington. Both the Andersons and Jacksons ignore them. Bill cocks his gun “now, I’ll have nothing of that in town, if you want to shoot each other do it outside the town limits.” Again they ignore him. Jackson takes a step forward. “So you have been sent here to take out me and my gang, do the train company think three men can take us. Fifty men couldn’t take us” None of the brothers answer. Bill brakes into the silence. “I mean it, I will shoot” Just then, Arthur spots the fifth gang member, on the roof of the barber; he has a rifle in his hands. Just as the man on the roof takes aim, Spencer Anderson swings his scattergun around and takes a shot at him, he hits him and the man takes some steps back and fall of the back of the roof. As this happens Arthur draws his Colt, none of the Jackson’s react even remotely as fast, not because they are slow to draw, but because Arthur is that fast. But his aim is fast to, he fires and hits Jackson in the leg, by this time they all have gotten their guns out except Carl and everybody is shooting, nobody hits much, Jackson half down, he limps backwards while shooting, Carl has finally gotten his dual colts out and is not firing them of fast. Jacksons right hand man, Henry McNabb takes aim with his rifle, while all others have their pistols out and shooting wildly he takes his time, but before he can pull the trigger one of the many bullets coming from Carl hits him in the shoulder. The whole fight is over in ten seconds, they have all either shot their six-shooters dry or are down with bullets in them. Both sides stop and feel the day has been eventful enough, and they slowly move of. Down the street they can see the man from the roof limping of. With Jackson and McNabb being helped up and away by the others in the gang. The whole time Bill and O’Brian did nothing; they froze when the shooting started, and not really knowing which side they should shoot at. By the time Bill and put his Remington back in the holster Both sides had diapered from the streets

[Totenkopf]

Hm, ja. Det kan kanskje være en bedre ide å skrive på et språk du mestrer? Evt. leie inn en profesjonell korrekturleser.

 

"By the time Bill and put his Remington back in the holster Both sides had diapered from the streets"

 

Bleiet?

Endret 15. februar 2009 av Totenkopf

[Beatnik]

Første kapittel i en liten novelle? Noveller har normalt ikke kapitler. Ellers enig med Totenkopf i at det er bedre om du skriver på et språk du behersker. Nå mistet jeg interessen etter de første tre setningene.