If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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They stood there in the firelight for a long time, simply holding each other, profoundly grateful for the safe harbor they had finally secured in a brutal world. Exhausted but entirely content, they eventually retired to the massive bed, tangling their limbs together beneath the heavy furs, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, after a lavish breakfast of fresh mountain berries, cured meats, and hot coffee served in their suite, it was time to return to the heart of the empire.
Caleb, Mary-Beth, Arthur, and Hosea boarded the private carriages and made the winding descent back to Riggs Station. Strauss remained behind at the hotel, completely consumed by the logistical challenge of implementing the buffet and finalizing the staff training. Charles stayed with him, silently promising Caleb that the surrounding wilderness and the hotel itself would remain entirely secure under his watchful eye.
The private train carried them swiftly back across the state, and by nightfall, they were back within the heavily fortified, familiar walls of the Garden District mansion in Saint Denis.
Once they arrived back in the city, the real work began. Several days passed in a blur of intense, highly coordinated wedding preparations.
The entire estate was buzzing with anticipation. For Caleb and Mary-Beth, the most important and deeply meaningful task on their schedule was finalizing the garments they would wear on the day they swore their lives to one another.
This was not a simple, transactional fitting. Caleb had rented out the entirety of Maison de l'Élégance, the absolute premier, most exclusive French tailor and bridal boutique in Saint Denis, for the entire afternoon. He posted heavily armed capos at the doors, ensuring that no one from the public could intrude upon their privacy.
Inside the lavish, mirror-lined boutique, the air smelled of expensive chalk, fresh lavender, and rich silks.
Mary-Beth was in the grand dressing room, surrounded by three frantic, highly skilled Parisian seamstresses making the final, microscopic adjustments to her gown.
When the velvet curtains were finally pulled back, Caleb was standing in the center of the showroom, wearing his own bespoke, three piece worsted wool suit in a deep, striking navy blue. The cut was a masterpiece, perfectly accentuating his broad shoulders and terrifyingly imposing frame, while the silver silk tie and pocket square added an undeniable aura of aristocratic elegance.
But when he saw Mary-Beth step out onto the pedestal, Caleb completely forgot how to breathe.
The clothing felt incredibly special, beautiful, and flawlessly fitting for the occasion. Her gown was a cascade of pure ivory silk, overlaid with the most delicate, intricate French lace that seemed to catch the light with every microscopic movement. The bodice hugged her perfectly, while the train swept out behind her with a breathtaking grace. She wore no heavy corsets or restrictive layers, she looked ethereal, comfortable, and devastatingly beautiful.
Mary-Beth looked at her reflection in the massive floor to ceiling mirrors, a single, happy tear slipping down her cheek as the sheer, undeniable reality of the moment finally hit her. She wasn't playing dress up. She wasn't dreaming. This was real.
She turned to look at Caleb, her dark eyes shining with overwhelming emotion.
Caleb took a slow step forward, his blue eyes entirely captivated by the woman standing before him. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He simply reached out, taking her gloved hand and pressing a fiercely tender kiss to her knuckles. The absolute devotion radiating from his expression reflected exactly how real, how profound, and how entirely personal this moment was for both of them. It was a silent vow made before the actual vows were ever spoken.
While the couple finalized their attire, the logistical machinery of the Thorne Holding Company was operating at max capacity.
The most sought after, highly expensive decorations designer in the state, a flamboyant Frenchman named Monsieur Laurent, had already been contacted. After a brief, highly intimidating meeting with Antonio, Laurent had packed three massive train cars full of pure white mountain roses, miles of imported silk ribbons, and hundreds of customvblown glass lanterns.
He traveled straight to Strawberry, terrified of disappointing the Don, to begin decorating the hotel for the wedding, determined to turn the luxurious property into something even more magical and fitting for the celebration.
As for the officiant, Caleb refused to settle for a simple justice of the peace. He wanted this done right.
The following morning, Caleb's black lacquered carriage pulled up to the grand, towering Cathedral of the Holy Virgin in the center of Saint Denis.
Caleb walked into the massive, echoing nave of the church, his footsteps ringing off the polished stone floors. He was greeted by Reverend Thomas, a distinguished, slightly nervous pastor who was highly respected in the city's religious community.
"Don Thorne," the Reverend greeted him, bowing his head slightly, acutely aware of the dangerous, blood soaked reputation of the man standing in his church. "How may I be of service to you this morning?"
"Reverend Thomas," Caleb replied, his voice a smooth, charming, and incredibly respectful baritone. He removed his hat, holding it at his side. "I am to be married next month. And I would consider it a great honor if you would travel to my new estate in Strawberry to officially perform the ceremony."
The Reverend blinked, slightly taken aback by the polite request. "Strawberry? Sir, that is quite a distance, and my duties to the parish here are..."
Before the Reverend could finish formulating a polite decline, Caleb casually reached into the inner pocket of his coat. He pulled out a thick, heavy manila envelope and placed it gently onto the wooden pew beside them.
"I understand that a journey of that magnitude takes you away from your flock," Caleb said smoothly, his max level Persuasion Skill radiating a completely disarming aura. "Which is exactly why I would like to make a substantial, incredibly generous donation to the church's orphanage and alms funds, to ensure that your time away is properly compensated, and that the children of this city do not go hungry this winter."
The Reverend looked at the envelope. It was thick enough to contain several thousand dollars in raw, unmarked cash,nenough to fund the church's charitable operations for an entire month.
Caleb was using a flawless blend of persuasion, immense financial influence, and sheer presence to make the event happen. But he did it with such grace that it didn't feel cold, threatening, or purely transactional. It felt like a man who simply possessed the means to ensure his perfect day was absolutely secured.
Reverend Thomas looked from the envelope up to Caleb's earnest, smiling face. The pastor slowly nodded his head, a genuine smile breaking through his initial fear.
"It would be my absolute privilege to officiate your wedding, Don Thorne," the Reverend agreed, picking up the envelope. "I will begin preparing the scripture today."
"Thank you, Reverend," Caleb smiled, turning and walking out of the cathedral into the bright winter sunlight.
The pieces were all perfectly aligned. The hotel was ready, the dress was flawless, the officiant was secured, and the enemies of the Thorne syndicate were either dead or utterly broken.
As Caleb climbed back into his carriage, looking forward to returning to Mary-Beth, he knew that the wedding was not just going to be a celebration of their love, but the ultimate, absolute crowning of their new life.
The heavy, black lacquered carriage rolled smoothly back into the sprawling, heavily guarded perimeter of the Garden District. As it pulled to a halt at the base of the marble steps, Caleb stepped out into the crisp winter air, the weight of a thousand logistics slowly lifting from his broad shoulders. He walked up the steps and into the warmth of the mansion, handing his coat and hat to an awaiting servant before making his way toward the private conservatory.
He found Mary-Beth sitting on a plush velvet sofa, bathed in the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun filtering through the glass panes. She was carefully reviewing a stack of elegant, gold embossed envelopes.
Hearing his footsteps, she looked up, her dark eyes instantly brightening.
Caleb walked over, sitting beside her and gently taking her hand. He offered her a warm, deeply contented smile. "It is done, sweetheart," he murmured, his thumb lightly tracing the back of her hand. "I just spoke with Reverend Thomas at the Cathedral. The officiant is secured. He will travel to Strawberry to perform the ceremony."
Mary-Beth let out a soft, beautiful breath, a look of profound relief washing over her delicate features.
"Everything is now fully prepared and completely finished," Caleb told her, his voice vibrating with a quiet, triumphant joy. "The dress is perfect, the hotel is decorated, the food is finalized. The only thing left to do is to send these invitations out to all the guests tomorrow morning. For now, Mary-Beth... we only need to wait for the big day to arrive."
Mary-Beth reacted with a warm, incredibly sincere smile. The sheer magnitude of the event they had been planning had felt daunting at times, but hearing him say those words anchored her completely.
She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder, feeling a profound sense of relief and mounting excitement. So much of the wedding had already come together flawlessly. "I can hardly believe it," she whispered happily. "It feels like a dream, Caleb. I am so incredibly excited."
After that quiet, tender afternoon, the story of their lives moved rapidly forward.
A week passed in a blur of domestic peace and high society anticipation. The massive stack of gold embossed invitations had been dispatched across the state, sending the wealthy elite of Saint Denis into an absolute frenzy of excitement. Everyone who was anyone wanted to be present at the wedding of the billionaire Don.
During that time, while the city obsessed over the upcoming nuptials, the relentless, visionary gears of the Thorne Holding Company continued to turn.
Caleb was sitting in his private study when a sharp knock echoed from the heavy oak doors. Pierre, the brilliant corporate attorney, practically burst into the room, his wire rimmed spectacles slightly askew and his leather briefcase bulging with paperwork.
"Don Thorne! Excellent news!" Pierre announced, catching his breath as he stepped up to the mahogany desk. "The bicycle schematics... they have been entirely patented. We secured the federal, state, and international intellectual property rights this morning. No one can manufacture a single sprocket without infringing on your copyrights."
"Perfect," Caleb praised him, a sharp, calculating glint in his blue eyes. "And the manufacturing site?"
"I have found it, sir," Pierre grinned, pulling a property deed from his briefcase. "I located the perfect factory right here in the industrial sector of Saint Denis. It was formerly a light machining and textile plant that went bankrupt. It already has some of the heavy equipment, lathes, stamping presses, and workbenches, that could absolutely be used to manufacture the bicycle parts you designed."
Caleb was incredibly pleased to hear this. He didn't waste a single second. He grabbed his coat, ordered Silvio to prepare the carriage, and immediately rode down to the smog choked, bustling industrial district to inspect the factory himself.
When Caleb arrived at the sprawling brick building, he stepped out onto the soot stained cobblestones and walked through the heavy iron doors. The interior was massive, filled with rows of dormant, grease stained machinery and smelling faintly of machine oil and cold iron.
As Caleb walked the floor, his intelligent mind assessing the layout, he saw that Pierre was entirely right. The place had more than enough machinery and heavy tools to be highly useful.
While some of the more intricate components, like the delicate chain links and the wire spoked wheels, would still need to be meticulously made by hand because of the technological limitations of the era, the factory was absolutely ideal for what he wanted to achieve.
Caleb immediately sent for the owner of the building. Less than an hour later, a nervous, sweating man drowning in gambling debts arrived at the factory floor.
Caleb didn't threaten the man with violence, he didn't need to. Using his max level Persuasion Skill, Caleb painted a picture of absolute financial ruin if the man held onto the dormant property, followed instantly by the offer of a generous, immediate cash buyout.
After only a few minutes of smooth, commanding persuasion, the owner eagerly agreed to sell the factory, signing the deed over on the hood of a dusty stamping press. Caleb bought it outright, officially becoming the new owner of the facility.
The moment the ink was dry, Caleb issued a flurry of aggressive corporate orders. He allocated thousands of dollars to purchase the necessary raw materials, specialized tools, and vulcanized rubber shipments needed to massively expand and improve the factory's production capabilities.
Two days later, with the raw materials delivered and a crew of bewildered but highly paid metalworkers assembled on the factory floor, Caleb did something that completely shocked his employees.
He didn't just sit in a lavish office and bark orders. The rich and powerful Don of the South took off his expensive suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, put on a heavy leather blacksmith's apron, and personally led the workers.
Caleb gathered the men around the central workbench. He intended to teach them exactly how to create and assemble the bicycle from scratch.
What followed was a display of sheer, unadulterated mechanical genius. Tapping into his supernatural, max level Crafting Skill, Caleb's hands moved with a blinding, robotic precision that defied human limitation. He took raw, hollow drawn steel tubing and cut it to the exact millimeter required for the revolutionary diamond frame.
He fired up the brazing torches, the bright blue flames illuminating his focused, handsome features, and welded the joints together with flawless, perfectly smooth beads of molten brass.
The workers stood in a wide circle, completely mesmerized by his skill. They watched in absolute awe as Caleb effortlessly assembled the geared chain drive, aligned the rear sprocket, and perfectly tensioned the wire spokes of the wheels.
He moved with a supernatural grace, never wasting a single motion, completely in tune with the metal and the mechanics. Finally, he stretched the thick, air filled pneumatic rubber tires over the steel rims, bolting the wheels into the frame and securing the leather saddle.
When Caleb finally set his tools down and stepped back, wiping a smudge of grease from his jaw, the workers stared at the finished product resting on the factory floor.
They were intensely curious, whispering excitedly amongst themselves, since absolutely none of them had ever seen anything like it before in their entire lives. It looked like a machine from a hundred years in the future, sleek, aerodynamic, and completely devoid of the massive, dangerous front wheels of the old velocipedes they had seen in the circus.
"Listen closely, gentlemen," Caleb announced, his rich baritone echoing across the factory floor. He rested his hand on the leather seat of the contraption. "This invention is called a bicycle. Specifically, a modern safety bicycle."
Caleb began to explain exactly how it worked, pointing to the specific components he had just forged. "The power does not come from a horse, and it does not come from steam. It comes entirely from you. By pushing these pedals, the kinetic energy is transferred through this chain to the rear wheel, propelling you forward at speeds that can easily outpace a running carriage."
He looked at the rugged, soot stained workers, a charismatic smile on his face. "And beyond transport, it also serves as a phenomenal form of daily exercise, building stamina and strength without the grueling toll of heavy labor."
To prove his point, Caleb decided to demonstrate. Because of his past life and his absolute, deeply ingrained experience with modern bicycles, Caleb was able to use the machine with flawless, effortless ease.
He swung his leg over the saddle, gripped the ergonomic handlebars, and pushed off.
Caleb glided smoothly and silently across the sprawling, open concrete floor of the factory. He pedaled effortlessly, picking up an incredible amount of speed before leaning sharply into a tight, perfect turn, the pneumatic rubber tires gripping the floor with a satisfying squeak.
He circled the massive stamping presses, weaving through the support pillars with a relaxed, entirely confident posture, before pulling the handbrake and coming to a smooth, perfect halt right in front of the astonished crowd.
That effortless demonstration profoundly impressed everyone watching. The workers erupted into spontaneous applause and excited cheers, their minds blown by the sheer speed and elegance of the machine.
"Who wants to try?" Caleb offered, stepping off the bike and holding it steady.
A massive, burly steelworker named O'Malley eagerly volunteered. However, as more of the workers began to try it, chaos and hilarity quickly ensued.
Some of them failed spectacularly at first, because riding a lightweight, balanced bicycle was incredibly, fundamentally different from riding a wide, heavy horse. O'Malley pedaled twice before losing his balance entirely, tumbling sideways into a pile of empty canvas sacks with a loud, surprised shout, sending the rest of the crew into fits of roaring laughter.
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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: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 283,392 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 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 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: - 2G