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10/15/2007 6:43 AM

Tobias sniffed the desert air.

The caravan of gunslingers, on horses and in wagons, neared the edge of the desert. Their destination drew closer with every breath, making Tobias breathe heavily. The journey had taken too long, and it was lengthened with the death of a few gunslingers along the way, as well as the excruciating heat on the hard-pan.

Tobias mourned their loss, and carried on towards Wyatt's Torch. Battle would come soon, as would reclamation of those souls lost in the desert, to be given by those wretched Corruptions.

His hand dropped to the grip of his revolver. He adored the smoothness of the wood, and the quality of the metal. It soothed his deep anger. This struck the gunslinger as a bit odd, as the heavy weapon usually increases his rage.

[i]Maybe I'm just getting older,[/i] he thought to himself. [i]Maybe I should have started a family long ago, when I had the chance. Maybe...[/i]

He didn't want to think about it much more. He had to remain focused on the job at hand.

The town of Wyatt's Torch was visible on the horizon.

[i]Who is Wyatt? Is he still alive? What did he do to warrant a town to dedicate themselves to him? Or is Wyatt a woman?[/i]

Tobias hoped these questions would be answered soon. The more he knew, the more incentive he would have to help those in need.

He gave his horse a good kick, and it sped up. The horizon approached faster and faster.

10/17/2007 7:13 PM

Mica took a drink from the pouch. He hadn't seen a town for at least a week and hadn't seen anyone for at least five days. That is if you count a horse. Mica's horse had died awhile ago, Probally from dehidration. Mica looked up at the endless desert. He needed to find a welcoming town and soon. He was running out of bullets. Three times Mica fell asleep only to be awoken seconds later to the sound of something following him. Twice did it show itself and twice he killed between five and seven of them. Mica kept walking till he saw something on the horizon. It was a small town but not much could be said from his distance. As Mica got closer he saw the remains of a sign partially destroyed and covered by sand. " lets see W-Y-T-T-T-O-R-C." Mica said to himself. He wiped the sand off the sign. " AHH Wyatts Torch ehh?" Mica kept walking towards the town. He hadn't been there before and he wondered if they had any furnaces.

10/19/2007 10:23 AM

The reins were held a little more slackly in her hands than usual.

Sue had left Kenton more than three weeks ago, saying goodbye to Jarred and Moses, leaving more words unsaid than not. The old man hadn't recovered by the time it came to leave, the bitter regret in his grey eyes steeling her own resolve to go.

Jarred had fought her fiercely in the days leading up to the fingernail moon, the night she'd set for the departure. Each night he'd swing between urging her to wait until his father was well enough to ride, trying to persuade her to let him go in her stead, and even shouting that none of them should go.

But she knew it would be long and long before Moses could ride or shoot, if ever- his right arm still cold and colourless up to the shoulder, and his heart prone to fits of frantic trembling- and she knew Wyatt's Torch didn't have that long; and there was no way she'd ask Jarred to leave his father, not when he was in such a state, and not when there was the slightest chance the cursed wraith that had been stalking the town would return.

And when he said that none of them should go, they should just set up in the town... she knew he didn't mean it, didn't believe it. Just like he knew that the arguing was just for his own sake, so that when she was gone he could comfort himself that at least he'd tried to stop her.

So she'd left quietly, just before dawn, feeling his eyes on her back from the window of their rooms above the general store, but never turning.

For two weeks they'd travelled without problem, then a week back Boy had picked up a stone in his right fore, a sharp one. Sue'd gotten it out and cleaned up- no infection, thank the Fates- but it had been tender, and with a good journey still ahead of them she hadn't wanted to push him.

So they'd travelled little the first couple of days after, her getting antsy at the delay, chaffing at its necessity but resigned to it. Then she'd increased the distance they'd cover each day, but breaking it up into bouts: a few hours in the saddle, then a few of rest. It was easier on the gelding's foot, but meant she wasn't getting any deep sleep. Added to that was the fact that she was trying to make up the time they'd lost, taking some of her rest in the saddle when she felt the palomino was finding the going easy.

As a result she felt as if she'd spent most of the last few days half dreaming, half awake, her backside numb from the saddle: at a walk the monotonous rocking causing her head to drop, at a canter keeping her jarringly awake.

And as they neared Watt's Torch even what little respite she'd been able to grab grew more broken. She could feel them, the perversions, the corruptions, like a dull ache in her chest, tugging her unfailingly toward the town. And she could feel it getting closer.

10/20/2007 5:40 PM

As the town appeared on the horizon, Corey could feel them. Nine years ago he had to be practically on top of the corruptions; as the years passed he had learned to sense them from farther and farther away. The familiar urge to fill the voids, make the cleanse the corruptions from nature grew in him. He smiled slightly in anticipation of the coming hunt. This would be a new experience for him; he normally only had one companion on these hunts, Luna.

She had come a long way since Morrigan's Hill. More mature, more competent, a stronger hexer than he was (though he was still a better shot, by the Hex), and significantly less crazy, she was pretty much the only constant thing in his life. Well, her and murderous Corruptions that had to be put down.

They popped up quite consistently.

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