If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
...
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
He looked back toward the porch one last time. He tipped his dark Vaquero hat respectfully to Arthur and Hosea, a silent promise between brothers that he would handle the shadows in the East while they held the fort in the West. Before then, he took a firm hold of Morgan's leather reins. He flicked it sharply, turning Morgan around smoothly. The mare snorted, eager to run, and rode out of the homestead gates, leaving the safety of the Heartlands behind.
Caleb began following down the winding dirt road, pointing the mare southeast, heading on the long, arduous journey back to Saint Denis.
The morning air was brisk and invigorating as they rode. The two of them rode down south, the rhythmic thud of Morgan's hooves eating up the miles. They followed the road steadily, watching the landscape slowly begin to shift.
The rolling, vibrant green plains of the Heartlands gradually gave way to rockier, drier terrain. They passed the dried out, rocky riverbeds of Dewberry Creek, the sound of crickets replacing the songbirds.
As they crossed the state line, they formally entered into Scarlett Meadows. The earth beneath Morgan's hooves turned a deep, rich, blood red hue. The air grew significantly warmer, the scent of pine replaced by the heavy, sweet fragrance of magnolia blossoms and damp earth.
They rode hard, pushing through the heat of the midday sun, until they finally reached the outskirts of Rhodes. They didn't stop in the corrupt, dusty little town.
They passed right through the city, drawing curious, wary glances from the locals sitting on the saloon porches, Caleb's imposing Vaquero silhouette ensuring no one dared to step into the street to block their path.
Leaving Rhodes behind, they kept following down the main southern road. The dense forests opened up to reveal massive, sprawling tobacco fields stretching as far as the eye could see.
They passed through the outer boundaries of Caliga Hall, the opulent, white pillared plantation house visible in the distance, a stark reminder of the old, rotting wealth of Lemoyne.
They pushed onward, the sun beginning to dip toward the western horizon, casting long, golden shadows across the road. They then turned right, following the main artery road that plunged deep into the bayou, and passed over a long, rickety wooden bridge that spanned the murky, slow moving waters of the Kamassa River.
The smell of the air changed drastically once more. The sweet magnolias were completely choked out by the heavy, sulfurous stench of burning coal, raw sewage, and salty ocean brine. The towering, black smokestacks of industrial progress pierced the sky ahead of them.
Until they finally arrived at Saint Denis.
They didn't take the main northern avenues. Seeking discretion for their arrival, Caleb guided Morgan, entering through the chaotic, bustling southwest entrance of the city, right where the massive Saint Denis stables and the livestock yards were located.
The noise of the metropolis washed over them instantly, the clanging of trolley bells, the shouting of dockworkers, and the hiss of steam engines. Mary-Beth tightened her grip around Caleb's waist, staring in absolute awe at the towering brick buildings and the paved cobblestone streets. It was a world entirely alien to the muddy trails of Valentine.
But Caleb didn't hesitate. He navigated the crowded, dangerous streets with the flawless, untouchable confidence of a man who owned the very ground they rode on.
They immediately bypassed the commercial sector and headed straight north, guiding the exhausted but triumphant mare through the winding avenues, moving directly toward the opulent, heavily guarded gates of the Garden District mansion, ready to introduce the Lady of the Don to her new, spectacular empire.
When they finally arrived at the imposing, towering wrought iron gates of the Garden District mansion, the chaotic, sulfur choked atmosphere of the industrial sector had completely faded away. In its place was the serene, almost oppressive quiet of extreme wealth.
The massive estate was surrounded by high stone walls topped with sharp iron spikes, practically vibrating with the unseen tension of a heavily fortified military compound masquerading as a high society manor.
The perimeter guards stationed at the main entrance were elite, hand picked men who had sworn their blood to the new regime.
They were dressed in sharp, tailored dark suits, but the unmistakable bulges of shoulder holsters and the repeating rifles resting casually near their posts betrayed their true profession. When they saw the familiar, terrifying silhouette of Caleb's Vaquero outfit approaching on the exhausted white socked mare, they immediately snapped to attention.
However, as Morgan drew closer, the guards were visibly surprised to see him coming with a woman seated behind him. The criminal underworld of Saint Denis was a vicious, bloody arena, and Don McLaughlin bringing a civilian, especially a beautiful, delicate looking woman dressed in a velvet traveling gown, directly to his primary fortress was entirely unprecedented.
Despite their shock, discipline won out instantly. No questions were asked. Of course, they immediately opened the heavy iron gates for him, the massive hinges groaning softly as they parted to allow the ruler of the city to pass.
Caleb directed Morgan to enter into the sprawling, immaculate courtyard of the mansion. The crunch of the mare's hooves against the crushed white gravel echoed loudly in the quiet space. He brought the horse to a smooth halt near the grand, sweeping marble steps that led up to the main entrance.
Caleb let out a slow breath, feeling the deep, physical ache of the long, hard ride from the Heartlands settling into his bones. He got down first, swinging his leg over the saddle horn and dropping to the gravel with a practiced, fluid grace. He adjusted his gun belt, shaking the dust from his shoulders, before turning back to the mare.
Reaching up with both strong hands, he grasped Mary-Beth firmly by the waist, effortlessly lifting her from the horse and helping Mary-Beth get down. He set her gently onto the gravel, keeping his hands on her hips for just a fraction of a second longer to ensure she had her footing after hours in the saddle.
At this time, three of the stationed guards came forward at a brisk, highly disciplined jog. They didn't utter a word, moving with terrifying efficiency to help him in taking down the luggage that was secured on Morgan.
They expertly unbuckled the heavy leather suitcase from the rear rack and carefully unstrapped the thick cloth cases from the saddlebags, handling the cargo as if it were packed with volatile explosives.
And exactly at this time, the massive, ornate double oak doors of the mansion opened wide. Antonio, the estate's impeccably dressed head butler, came out as he walked down the marble steps. The butler's posture was perfectly rigid, his uniform flawless despite the humid Louisiana heat.
"Welcome back to the city, Don McLaughlin," Antonio said, his voice carrying the smooth, cultured cadence of a man who had served royalty. He bowed respectfully, welcoming the Don back before then standing straight, his sharp eyes inevitably drifting toward the beautiful woman standing beside his master.
Antonio maintained his professional composure, though a flicker of intense curiosity danced in his eyes. He asked him respectfully, "And who might the lady be that has accompanied you on your journey?"
Caleb smiled, a cool, incredibly confident expression that radiated absolute authority. He placed a gentle, possessive hand on the small of Mary-Beth's back, stepping forward to formally introduce Mary-Beth to him.
"Antonio," Caleb announced, his voice projecting clearly so that every guard in the courtyard could hear the absolute truth of the new hierarchy. "I would like you to meet Madam Alice McFarlane."
Caleb didn't miss a beat, smoothly weaving the fabricated identity into existence. "She is my lady. And she is the future madam of this entire organization."
Hearing that, Antonio and the guards were very surprised. The absolute weight of the declaration struck the courtyard like a physical blow. The Don was not merely introducing a passing companion or a fleeting romance, he was formally declaring a queen.
The guards carrying the luggage physically stiffened, their grip tightening on the leather straps, suddenly realizing that they were holding the personal effects of the second most powerful person in Saint Denis.
Antonio, recovering from the monumental shock with the seasoned grace of a master servant, immediately bowed even deeper than he had for Caleb. Of course, he welcomed Mary-Beth respectfully to the estate.
"It is an absolute honor to make your acquaintance, Madam McFarlane," Antonio said, his tone dripping with profound deference. "The entire household is at your absolute disposal. Whatever you require, at any hour of the day or night, you have but to ask."
Mary-Beth, despite her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, did not freeze. Her brilliant, romantic mind, honed by years of surviving as a con woman and a thief alongside the Van der Linde gang, instantly grasped the necessity of the deception. She didn't know why Caleb had chosen the name 'Alice McFarlane' on the spot without any discussion prior, but she knew to just trust him.
A wealthy, aristocratic sounding name protected her true identity from any lingering Pinkerton spies or rival mob factions still lurking in the city. To follow along and play the role perfectly was the greatest thing she could do now.
Mary-Beth nodded her head, adopting a posture of graceful, refined elegance that would have made any high society debutante weep with envy. She offered the butler a warm, yet suitably guarded smile, thanking Antonio smoothly.
"Thank you, Antonio," she said, pitching her voice to a soft, cultured timbre. "I have heard wonderful things about how impeccably you manage this estate. I look forward to settling in."
Caleb's eyes gleamed with immense pride. She was absolutely flawless.
And so, with the guards bringing their luggage and falling into a protective formation behind them, Caleb and Mary-Beth, with Antonio leading at the front, entered into the mansion.
The moment Mary-Beth crossed the threshold, the sheer, unimaginable scale of the wealth hit her like a tidal wave. The grand foyer was a breathtaking cathedral of marble and gold.
A massive crystal chandelier hung from the frescoed ceiling, catching the afternoon sunlight and scattering thousands of tiny rainbows across the polished floors.
Sweeping, dual staircases carved from dark mahogany curved upward toward the second floor, flanked by priceless, towering marble statues and rich, woven tapestries. It was a world entirely divorced from the mud, the tents, and the constant fear of the frontier.
They went to the second floor, ascending the plush, carpeted steps in silence, moving down a wide, portrait-lined hallway toward Caleb's primary bedroom. Antonio opened the heavy, intricately carved double doors to the master suite.
The room was vast and bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. A massive, four poster bed draped in crimson silk dominated the space, surrounded by antique seating arrangements, a roaring marble fireplace, and floor to ceiling windows that offered a sweeping view of the manicured gardens below.
The guards filed into the room, their eyes fixed firmly on the floorboards to show respect, and placed the luggage carefully on a velvet luggage rack near the massive mahogany wardrobe.
The luggage was put there, and the guards immediately left the room after that, bowing themselves out and pulling the heavy doors mostly shut, leaving Antonio standing near the threshold.
"The kitchens are fully prepared, Don McLaughlin, Madam McFarlane," Antonio offered politely. "Would you care to dine in the formal hall, or perhaps I could have a meal brought up to the private sitting room?"
Caleb nodded his head, unbuckling his heavy Vaquero gun belt and laying it securely on a side table. Saying yes, they absolutely wanted to have lunch.
"We'll eat here in the suite, Antonio," Caleb instructed, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness of the ride. "Please serve some good, hearty food. Something substantial. We've been eating trail dust all morning."
Antonio nodded his head, his mental menu already selected. "Of course, my Don. A slow roasted beef tenderloin with a red wine reduction, perhaps, and fresh artisan bread. I shall have it sent up immediately."
Before then, taking his leave, the butler bowed one final time and pulled the heavy doors completely shut with a soft, definitive click.
The moment the lock engaged, the heavy, formal atmosphere in the room completely shattered.
Mary-Beth let out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders dropping as she finally allowed herself to drop the aristocratic persona. At this time, she finally could give her unfiltered, genuine reactions to her new reality.
She spun around, her dark eyes wide as saucers as she took in the opulent master suite. "Caleb... my god! I have never in my life... I've read about places like this in my novels, but to actually stand inside one?"
She walked over to the bed, running her fingertips reverently over the crimson silk sheets, her voice breathless with awe. "The marble, the crystal, the sheer size of it all! It's like a palace for a king! It's beautiful, Caleb. More beautiful than I could have ever imagined."
She turned back to him, her expression shifting slightly from awe to a highly perceptive, nervous pragmatism. "But those men outside," she added, shivering slightly despite the warmth of the room. "The way they look at you... the way they moved. They aren't just hired guns, Caleb. They look like a private army. It's terrifying."
She paused, her brilliant mind connecting the dots of his underworld ascension. "But... it is completely understandable for them to be so intimidating. You're the Don now. You need men like that to hold a place like this."
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 286,492 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -