Index < Clifford's stats
BACKGROUND
Clifford White has spent the last nine years of his life working for various agencies by tracking down thieves, rapists, and murderers. He's been hired by everyone at some time or another; he worked in Texas for the Rangers for a year, tracking and killing a murderer and his trained attack dogs; he was hired by the CSA to hunt a few groups of train robbers; he spent a year in Deadwood as a deputy; a brief month in Lost Angels on the trail of a suspected kidnapper who disappeared in that city and was never apprehended; he spent a year in Salt Lake City as a bodyguard to a scientist by the name of Gary Marshal; and he even spent a few months in Boston as a doorman for a prestigious, but private, gentlemen's club.
A distant relative, Reginald Dawson, invited Clifford to the town of Gomorra, promising it to him as a place to settle down. No sooner had Clifford arrived in Gomorra and Reginald was suggesting that Clifford buy his business, the Bloody Bucket Saloon. The value of the property was steep, but Reginald was offering it to his cousin for less than a tenth of what it was worth, and Clifford jumped at the oppurtunity. The next day Reginald left town on the first steam wagon to Denver, and Clifford set about renovating the Bloody Bucket. Thinking the business' name too morbid, Clifford renamed it the Old Moon Saloon and refurbished the interior by buying silver gilting for banisters and chandeliers. When it came to repainting the sign and the interior, Clifford ran into a small problem: all of the local stores were out of turpentine and paint.
Clifford mounted a short expedition to Sacremento to buy his supplies and his first night in Sacremento, he suffered a horrible
WORST NIGHTMARE.....
.....I wake up in the hotel room, it's bright and sunny outside and I can hear shooting. Looking out the window, I see some hoodlums robbing the local bank. I grab my pistol and frantically try to put my pants on as I stumble out of my room and head downstairs. I charge through the foyer and as I step through the outer doors, I find myself charging into the foyer. I run through the foyer again and stepping through the outer doors, I find myself in the foyer... again. The bellhop looks at me as I stand there shirtless and perplexed, he says "Are you alright, sir?" I'm about to respond when he says "this is the third time you've enetered this room" All reason flees my mind and I panic, I run to the outer doors and step into... the foyer. The bellhop is looking expectantly at me, waiting for a response. I start for the outer doors, when I get an idea and head back for my room. Exiting the rear of the foyer leads me to the stairs to the second floor and I charge up them, leaping two or three steps at a time. I run to my door, grasp the handle, and enter the foyer... from the direction of the outer doors. The bellhop looks at me and says "You can't get out that way sir." I run toward his desk and he startles, taking a step back. My fingers grasp the edge of the desk and I leap upon it. Charging towards the window at the end of the desk, my adrenile-filled body smashes through the great window and I feel the shattered glass sliding off my sweat-soaked body. As I stand up and look at my surroundings, I find myself in the foyer and on the desk, as if I had smashed through from the outside. The glass behind me is not shattered and the bellhop is standing by my side. he says "You don't want to leave us yet sir" he tries to grasp my arm, but I slide away from him and charge the window again. This time my panic has made me clumsy and I fall short of the window, landing on the floor behind the desk. Several floorboards are missing under the desk and I can see bellhops, all identical and smiling, looking up at me from below the floorboards. Their hands reach up and grab hold of my pants, my hair, my arms, one of them grabs my gun away from me. They are saying "You don't want to leave yet sir" "We want you to stay sir" "You should try the lamb sir" "We have such sights to show you sir" As the floorboards break and I am carried down, I thrash uselessly and scream out as I wake up.
When Clifford woke up, he quickly checked out of that hotel and checked into the one he felt looked farthest from the one in his dreams. As it turned out, the tenants from this hotel turned out to be more socialable and from Gomorra.
What a stroke of luck!
RECENT ENTRIES
October 26th, 1877
Had a horrible dream last night that I couldn't escape from the foyer of the hotel that I'm staying in. Felt like checking out anyway, who on Earth names their hotel the Happy Hunting Grounds?!
Checked into a hotel on the south side of Sacremento, where I've met some people from Gomorra. What a stroke of luck! Zachariah Janes seems to be the most educated man, a scientist whose built his own steam wagon. Impressive! Our discussion covered the topic of the Tombstone Epitaph and he seemed to think it was as fictional as I pretended it wasn't. Does he truly think it is a fiction, or is he being 'discreet' like myself? My sister would probably get along with him, but he seems a little stuffy to me. He seems to be courting a music teacher here at the hotel, Mary Woods, she is also travelling to Gomorra I understand.
October 27th, 1877
I didn't get much sleep, there was a fire in the stable last night. My horse was unhurt but I've learned that there is a killer running around Sacremento. He wears other people's skins and he does so convincingly. Mary was attacked by the bizarre killer in her room the day before and she commented that someone broke into her room during the fire.
October 28th, 1877
So much happened on this day, I know I will not remember everything!
I went to breakfast and met Zachariah's other travelling companions: Wu fen O'leary, I may be spelling that wrong, an irish-borne gentleman who was raised by the orientals. I must learn more about this man, he is trained as a pugilist and has a unique style of fighting that appeals to me.
James Woodard and his son William, who prefers to be called Billy. Mr.Woodard owns a curiosity shop in Gomorra and seems to be a man of distinguished taste and eccentric morals. His son is an odd character, at breakfast he performed a sleight of hand with his clothing causing it to vanish. He is truly talented for I could find no trace of his clothing anywhere, and when he fled from the table he was certainly not carrying anything. Why he would choose to expose himself is beyond me.
Travelling back to Gomorra is foggy and I am unable to recall the events that preceded my arrival to the bottom of a secluded mine in the Maze. All of my new acquiantances were present, except for the boy.
Exploring the mine, I split off from our main group and experienced a very curious... I don't know how to explain it. I've heard of will'o wisps leading men into swamps who are never heard from again, but this was altogether similar but alternately not of a malicious nature. A strange knocking, which no one else heard, led me away from pitfalls in which I could've injured myself, and ultimately led me towards a murdered corpse. I can only explain it to myself as a ghost trying to retain a peaceful rest. I carried the body to the top of the mine and gave it a proper burial once we had escaped.
I say 'escaped' because at the top of the mine their were several men, dressed in miner's gear, who attempted to stop us from leaving. They seemed half-starved and deranged, but with my fighting skills as minimal as they are, I suffered several cuts and scrapes from their attacks. Wu fen displayed amazing fisticuff techniques, I must offer him a job as a bodyguard when I next see him.
Zachariah attempted to construct a motor so we could employ a speedy departure, but I don't believe it would've made any time difference had we just constructed a raft and rowed back to Gomorra.
Our trip back to Gomorra was eventful! A whirlwind swept through the canyon and I was lifted off the boat, if I could call it a boat, and when the wind let go of me I landed on the edge of a cliff face just below the ledge. I climbed up and found another dead miner. This one did not seem to have been murdered and I don't think I could have buried him even if I was inclined to do so. The rock that his campsite rested on had no soft soil.
We got back to town on October 30th, 1877.
I decided to have a Will written up, in case someone decides to kidnap me out to the uncharted sections of the Maze again and I have no way of getting back.
Zachariah, Mary, Wu fen, and myself journeyed out to where we could last remember travelling along the trail and miraculously my horse and Zach's steam wagon were right where we hoped they would be.
As we gathered our possessions together we were attacked by giant spider-like creatures. They were at least seven or eight feet tall, and their legs were massive. I was so addled by their appearance that I couldn't shoot straight, but Wu fen seemed to have no problems with them. His fists and feet caused more damage to them than I think my gun would have. He is amazing!
Zachariah displayed his expertise with a gatling pistol killing at least three of them. I was so distressed by my inability to strike these monstrous abominations that I screamed with all my fury at them, and it caused them to freeze in what I can only guess was terror.
I must keep my wits about me the next time I encounter some beast like this and be prepared to overpower it with my voice. I've been told that I can be intimidating, but against a huge spider?! California is as weird as the papers say it is!
November 4th, 1877
Today I repainted my saloon with Wu fen. The new name is up: Old Moon Saloon, I couldn't think of anything else. I wanted 'moon' to be in there somewhere, but 'old' seemed to be the only adjective that could go with it and be effectively pleasing to the ear.
While we painted the inside of the saloon, Tony Johnson approached me for a job. He was one of James Woodard's bodyguards in Sacremento and so I showed him around. He pulled a knife on me, which Wu fen saw, but didn't actually attempt to strike me, he simply fled. I reported him to the sheriff, but they could do little to help me. I asked Mr.Woodard about him but he claims he knows nothing about Tony.
I'm not convinced.
November 5th, 1877
Mr.Woodard invited me to his house for dinner along with Mary, Zachariah, and Wu fen. He seemed a little distraught about our eventful introductions to one another and, I think, was hoping we would all become friends. I don't mind Mr.Woodard much, but he seems like a doddering fool and his son has a malevolent glint in his eye and I've seen that look a hundred times in the faces of men and women I've killed. I just simply don't trust his son to be an individual of moral turpitude.
On second thought, he is awfully young and I wonder if this boy could be guided towards becoming a honorable person. The problem here is that I am not his father, I can't rightfully punish this child for being such a deviant. I'll have to show by example and hope his father has the stomach to effectively punish the boy for his miscreant activities. Ha!
November 7th, 1877
Feeling a little better today. My wounds from the Maze incident are healing nicely. I hired an indian named Smoky Rabbit yesterday and when I asked him about the indians' attitude towards our town here he invited me to visit the Sioux encampment outside of town today. I chose to accept his invitation and much happened while I was away.
Before I left Dr.Janes arrived at the saloon and thought I was open for lunch. Not a bad idea now that I've hired a cook, but I wasn't open. I allowed him to use the place for business that he had with some attorney and left the keys with him as I travelled out to the Sioux encampment. I met several indians and learned that there are over twenty tribes in this encampment alone. The indians are so diverse for a people so closely knit together. A shaman by the name of Wise Cloud introduced himself to me and offered to heal my wounds by tattooing my back. I declined his offer, despite the fact that I was intrigued by the idea.
While I was gone, the 'skin-wearing' killer ambushed Wu fen and stripped him of his skin. Wearing Wu fen's skin, the thought just sickens me and I wish I could make this man pay for what he's done, he approached my establishment, looking for me but finding Zachariah and his lawyer. This lawyer, I am told, left at this point and Zachariah noticed that Wu fen's skin was 'loose.' He had it out with this killer and severely injured the man, to the point where Zachariah believed he had killed the man. At this point, one of the deputies showed up and arrested Zachariah believing him to have killed me since I was attacked the other day.
When I arrived back into town I received a message Zachariah had left for me and I visited him at the jail. Dr.Janes intimated to me that the 'skin-wearing' killer's body was still in my establishment, but when I returned to dispose of the body it was not there. I can only accept the fact that Tony Johnson is the 'skin-wearing' killer since he was with us in Sacremento and he tried to attack me two days ago.
November 8th, 1877
Last night, I am told, the Woodard boy snuck into the jail cell with Zachariah and he was completely naked! How I didn't wake up from the commotion this must have caused, I don't know. This boy is obviously demented, because he deliberately tried to suggest that Zachariah was trying to molest him in some way. I feel sorry for Dr.Janes, but it's his own fault for offering to tutor the boy. Obviously, befriending yourself to this Billy is just his way of finding new backsides to kick. I'm going to keep a watchful eye on this evil child.
November 13th, 1877
Hired a few prostitutes not connected with any brothel as dancing girls. I told them I didn't want any whoring going on while they were working in my establishment, but whatever they do in their free time is none of my business. Their free time officially starts one hour before I close and I've noticed that old habits die hard. I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of being a pimp, so I don't collect any money from them for their 'courtships.' I don't really like the fact that it's going on in my establishment, but these are modern times and I'll turn a blind eye. Being in here is safer than the streets and every woman is entitled to make money any way she can.
November 15th, 1877
Smoky Rabbit is teaching me the ways of his tribe, the Lakota. I should try to learn his native language so we can speak to each other in front of customers without being understood.
November 19th, 1877
This week we caught only two cheaters, the total take was around fifty dollars. One man refused to pay and Smoky Rabbit displayed his skill with a knife, which was quite impressive and I was sober. The man emptyed his pockets and fled from the saloon before I could explain to him that we only collect the money that's on the table. Oh well.
November 21st, 1877
Two men decided to start firing at each other in my saloon tonight. I took one down with my pistol, no charges were brought against me since the man was a known troublemaker and he started the shootout. The other man was wounded in the shoulder and I offered to pay for his medical bill. He declined.
December 4th, 1877
I've been neglecting my journal the past few weeks, but learning the ways of the Lakota is taxing to my mind and I've been forgetting to add the events of the weeks.
Today, however, Wise Cloud actually came into town. He visited my saloon with Smoky Rabbit and they explained the concept of a vision quest to me. It sounds like something I should do, if I ever have the time.
THE FINAL ENTRY
December 9th, 1877
I caught someone at the tables tonight and it was a big game, over two-hundred dollars is going into the bank tomorrow!
EARLIER ENTRIES CONCERNING GUARD WORK IN BOSTON
October 2nd, 1871
Hired as a doorman for a private club in the Cambridge area today.
Work pays well, but no action involved, I fear it will become boring quickly.
October 18th, 1871
Yesterday a young man tried to force his way past myself and my co-worker, Tom Stilton, claiming that the club we belonged to was a font of evil. He blathered some nonsense about us being led astray by the devil and Tom punched the young man in the face, splitting his lip. The young man told Tom he would be 'struck down by the Lord' then left wholly unsatisfied that he was unable to enter. Today I learned that Tom was run over by a carraige in the street this morning and his skull was split in two.
October 29th, 1871
Tonight I heard screams coming from inside the club, they sounded like a woman's but I couldn't be sure they were so faint. I tried to enter but the door was locked and my key wouldn't work.
I'm tendering my resignation tomorrow.
November 1st, 1871
The police were wholly uninterested in my report about the screams I heard, it disgusts me. I picked up my final wages yesterday and Mr.Jamison actually tried to threaten me about reporting the screams to the police. I think I'll leave town as soon as the week ends.
EARLIER ENTRIES CONCERNING MANHUNT IN TEXAS
July 24th, 1872
We've been following Griffun and his pack of dogs for over a week now. I find it disconcerting to work for the Rangers but I'm impressed that they would employ an indian as a tracker. Dancing Bear is very good at what he does, I asked him about his tracking skills today and he told me the tracks of our quarry 'sing' to him. Very strange.
July 27th, 1872
Caught up with Griffun today, and what a fight! I will never forget it!
These were not attack dogs, they were werewolves! We caught them in their camp and I saw with my very eyes half a dozen people transform into huge wolf-like monstrosities. These were not costumes, and the Rangers seemed to expect it, they quickly handed out silver ammunition.
Dancing Bear came out of the battle untouched but he dispatched to of the beasts with his axe, which I noticed glowed a bluish color while he fought. We lost two Rangers, and several men were injured, but I was untouched as I stayed in the rear and emptied my ammo into the creatures.
I'll never discount the stories I read in the Tombstone Epitaph ever again.
August 1st, 1872
Arrived in Dallas today. I commishioned a smithy to make a dozen silver bullets for my personal use. He laughed at why I wanted them made but today I don't care, I think I will always carry silver ammo from this day forward.
EARLIER ENTRY CONCERNING GUARD WORK IN SALT LAKE CITY
February 17th, 1873
Gary confessed that he almost didn't hire me because I read the Tombstone Epitaph. I explained my werewolf story to him and he was very doubtful and chided me much, but still hired me afterward. He explained later that most people will frown upon such an open admission about reading the Epitaph, and I could see his point. Perhaps I should be more discreet with my stories and habits. Even my sister doesn't believe I fought werewolves. It'd be a hard habit to break for I so much want to warn people about the dangers out here in the west.
EARLIER ENTRIES CONCERNING MANHUNT IN LOST ANGELS
June 3rd, 1874
I'm glad Wilson called off the search today. Why he didn't call off the search a week ago and wants to suddenly today, I'll never know. He won't explain his actions but something is obviously frightening him. Where this kidnapper, Jake, could've disappeared to will probably always be a mystery.
But I don't want to spend another day in this city. It gives me the creeps that any minister can be looking at me through one of those peepholes at any time of the day. What if I wanted to take a beautiful girl up to my room? Would I be arrested like Rob was, and taken to that rock out in the bay? I wish there was something I could do to get him out of there but the laws of this place are designed to thwart any individuality that strays from 'God's path' and I have no power here.
June 4th, 1874
Wilson checked out of the hotel and left town before any of us today. It doesn't seem that odd since he went to bed saying he wanted to get out of town as much as we did, but still: why would he leave by himself? I hope he hasn't really been arrested from some imagined 'crime' but if he has, there's nothing I can do about it. It's probably if i just leave and never return.
EARLIER ENTRIES CONCERNING DEPUTY WORK IN DEADWOOD
September 17th, 1876
Started work today as a deputy.
Most trouble seems to be caused by the miners being irritated with the indians or each other.
September 18th, 1876
I saw a miner try to start a fight with an indian today. The indian merely pushed the man and he flew some thirty feet into a wall and fell unconscious. I thought I might have to pull my gun but the indian, instead of continuing his attack, kept walking away as if he had swatted an insect. I arrested the man for disturbing the peace, but when I went after the indian to ask him if he wanted to press charges of assault he must've left town since no one had seen him.
EARLIER ENTRIES CONCERNING PURCHASING SALOON
October 2nd, 1877
I made it into Gomorra today and got set up ni a room at Reginald's saloon. He rents the rooms upstairs out like an inn and he's given one to me for free until I find work. I think I'll try to avoid law enforcement work while I'm here, this town seems pretty quiet.
October 16th, 1877
Today Reginald offered to sell his saloon to me at a pittance. He was very excited by the prospect that I would stay in town and I think his excitement got the better of him. I would like to settle down, I think, but I'm going to give him a few days to think about his offer before he just hands me the bar.
I wouldn't want to cheat my own flesh and blood.
October 22nd, 1877
Reginald was adamant about selling the bar to me at such a cheap price. We finished the paperwork and Reginald started training me to serve drinks. I like alot of the improvements he's made to the place. The small stage he built has never been used, but some dancing girls might draw in a few more customers.
October 23rd, 1877
Reginald left town this morning as quickly as I got out of bed. I don't know if he's coming back, he muttered something about not being stuck in this place anymore and left without a good-bye. Very odd behavior, I'm beginning to suspect there's something wrong with this place that I haven't noticed yet.
I don't like the name very much now that I think about it. Bloody Bucket Saloon is just too morbid and not at all pleasing to the ear. Maybe that will be the first thing I change. I'm going to need to buy alot of paint.
October 25th, 1877
I sold all of the bronze and gold in the place today and bought silver chandeliers and gilting for the banisters, and I still had some more money left over. All of the general stores were out of paint however. I've been told that the scientists at the Collegium have just built a new wing and most paint in town went towards that. I'll have to go up to Sacremento and buy some paint and turpentine if I want to repaint the saloon anytime soon.