The Triassic Trail

>A doctor and a scientist. On the surface you're here to keep disease and dysentery at bay but you're more interested in the dinos than you are in caravansary, any chance to get a closer look is a chance you'll not miss.

I like the idea for this quest

>>970067
>>A doctor and a scientist. On the surface you're here to keep disease and dysentery at bay but you're more interested in the dinos than you are in caravansary, any chance to get a closer look is a chance you'll not miss.
Hope you know your shit about Dinosaurs OP.

>>970067
>>A doctor and a scientist. On the surface you're here to keep disease and dysentery at bay but you're more interested in the dinos than you are in caravansary, any chance to get a closer look is a chance you'll not miss.

>>970067
>A doctor and a scientist. On the surface you're here to keep disease and dysentery at bay but you're more interested in the dinos than you are in caravansary, any chance to get a closer look is a chance you'll not miss.


BANDWAGGONS AHOY

>>970077
I absolutely don't but will do the research as we go. Hopefully you guys will help me out in that regard.

Also vote closed. Writing doctor.

>>970083
wut. that only got 5 votes without any dissent whatsoever.

Also the good thing about dinos is that no one actually knows what they were like because our records rely upon archaeology.

>>970086

5 votes is pretty much a lock in.

>>970083

Almost done?

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You're Walter P. Abernathy, and you do stitches, broken bones, coughs, colds and dysentery. That's what it says on your contract, that is what you intend to do. Truth be told, you never actually got your medical licence--one drunken surgery and you were deemed "unfit to practice". But doctors were in short supply in the war and you were called up anyway. You learned your trade the hard way. You don't have a "certificate" or "credentials" but that hardly matters in the wilderness.

It does however, matter everywhere else. And since you couldn't get a nickle in the city and since you're not willing to peddle goosewater to idiots, your only choice is to try to make a dime in the trail. You've heard a lot of things about the trail, braves, banditos, the cold rivers, the hot fevers. You're here though, for the dinosaurs. They say once a man claps eye on a titanosaur he finds his faith in god refired forever. Well you've seen hell in the war, but you were never much a god-fearing man. You'll see if the dinos convert you.

You're in Independence, Misery; a name which pretty much sums up the feelings of the people that live in it. The town is filled with missionaries and gunslingers, farmers and fur traders. It's a small town. You can see a church steeple in the distance stand in pride over the other buildings. There's a general shop across the street where you can buy some extra provisions. You already gave most of your money to the caravaneer. So your food and other supplies are safely stowed in casks. Checking your pockets you find you have 3 dollars and some change, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter and a deck of playing cards. You also have your doctors bag--never leave home without it (or at least the doctor you stole it from shouldn't have). In it you have some balms and tablets, a few instruments, thread, needle, surgical tools. Everything you might need on the trail ahead.

You can see the wagons still being loaded up, so you have a few hours before its time to go.

What do you want to do?

>Check out the church
>Check out the general store, buy some stuff
>Head for the nearest bar, you could use a tall, stiff drink
>Head for the wagons, see who you'll be traveling with

Write-ins are encouraged

>>970137
>Check out the church

>>970141

I'll second. There's no point in buying stuff until we know our crew anyway.

>>970143

I'll go with this then.

We do need to check out the general store before we go though, maybe try to acquire a weapon of some sort just in case

>>970147
fourthing. Let's see how long our unanimous bandwaggon stays on fire.

Vote closed. Writing.

>>970159

>You're in Independence, Misery

Also, nice touch. Got a good laugh out of it.

Awesome OP, I suggested this sorta' thing in the Idea Thread the other day and I'm glad somebody else wants to try this out.

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The magnificence of the church attracts you, if not its symbolic significance. You cross the street for a closer look. It's a white building with a tall pyramidal steeple. A large bronze or maybe brass bell hangs from its top, waiting patiently to strike in the hour.

You catch a young man standing by the doorway of the church staring at you. After meeting his eyes his mouth curls into a broad smile and he rushes forward arm outstretched. Without even giving you a chance refuse whatever brand of crazy he's selling, he grabs your hand in both of his and gives it a firm shake.

"Blessed wayward lamb, ye have come to the right place." He says. You relinquish your hand from his clammy grip and brush it against your suit. "Accept the lord and savior before ye go out on yer journey, and He shall surely bless ye."

"Look pal, I just wanted to see the building, not live in it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be off." The young man grabs your arm.

"Now hold on a minute, sir. Ye are going on the trail are ye not?" His grip is stronger than the first time.

"Maybe I am. What's it you?" You say, struggling in vain against his claw. He releases you and then takes out a packet of leaflets and a small book from his robes.

"I'd mighty appreciate it if ye could bring these leaflets to Fort Lameme. There's a congregation there, requested them printed out some time ago and the missionary who was supposed to deliver it--poor soul--must've perished on the way back. I haven't seen him in months. If it's not too much trouble and since you're heading that way anyway, would you mind?" He pushes the leaflets and the book into your hand. "And that book there is for ye. Ye look like a learned man, ye might appreciate the word of our prophets."

>"Now hold on a minute I'm not your delivery boy. Get someone else to do it." Throw the leaflets on the ground.
>"Alright, fine." Pocket the leaflets.
>"Look pal, I don't mind doing somebody a favor but I do mind doing it for free. What's in it for me?"

>>970182
Yep. I'm actually just following up on your idea since no one else seemed interested in QM'ing it.

>>970216
>>"Now hold on a minute I'm not your delivery boy. Get someone else to do it." Throw the leaflets on the ground.
fuck you side-quest guy

>>970216
"alright fine." pocket the leaflets.

THEN BURN THEM!!

>>970216


>"Look pal, I don't mind doing somebody a favor but I do mind doing it for free. What's in it for me?"

Maybe we can make a few more dollars before we leave

>>970233
Second.

>>970233
fuck it gonna switch and third this. It's best decision desu.

Vote closed. Writing.

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"Look pal, I don't mind doing somebody a favor but I do mind doing it for free. What's in it for me?" You loosen your tie a bit to let air into your sweaty neck. The young man frowns.

"Well, the grace and mercy of the lord will be on ye, for helping a fellow man in need. Surely that's reward enough?"

"No." Best to be blunt. "Look, I've served in the war. You ever sew up a man's leg for two hours and then have him die from gangrene two days later? Or do a complex surgery removing shards of artillery from a man's gut, have him recover--miraculously I might add--and then die the next week from dehydration? Dehydration! No? Well let me tell you something pal, I've learned to trust in two things and two things only. And the lord isn't either of them. So you can either give me some paper I can actually use, or the only thing these leaflets will be seeing is a bonfire." You may have been too blunt. The young man looks near to tears. He nods, turns around and then runs inside the church. Leaving you standing slack-jawed with the leaflets still in your hand.

You debate just dropping them on the side of the road and leaving, but the young man runs back out. He hands you a bottle of a liquor, not the cheap stuff either.

"It's something we confiscated from one of the missionaries in training. I doubt we'll miss it. Is that enough to keep the leaflets from the fire Mr. 30-silver-pieces?"

You take offence at that, you wouldn't have sold out the lord for 30 silver pieces. You would've easily gotten more. You open the cap and take a whiff. Definitely the good stuff. Your lips and tongue approve.

>"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." Pocket the leaflets.
>"There isn't enough here to get a mouse buzzed. Why don't you give me some "green" from your "pastures"? I'm sure with a church that grand you have suckers enough every Sunday."
>Take the liquor, make a show of pocketing the leaflets but discard them at the first opportunity

>>970300
>>"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." Pocket the leaflets.

>>970300
>>"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." Pocket the leaflets.

>>970300
>"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." Pocket the leaflets.

I see we're going to be the type that berates our patients for being complete idiots, then?

>>970300

"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." Pocket the leaflets.

>>970315
Is there any other kind in the harsh, harsh wilderness?

>>970332
Also vote close. Writing.

I love how we're such a complete asshole.

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>>970332
Witch doctor probably

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"That'll do. I'll make sure to give the congregation your regards while I'm at it." You pocket the leaflets and turn away.

"Please don't mention to anyone that I gave you that." Yells the young missionary. You wave goodbye without turning around.

Now then. The only thing to do with a bottle of fine liquor is to give it a fine taste. But you aren't a bumpkin--you don't drink from the bottle. You need glasses, a table, some chairs and a friend. You're not likely to find the latter here, but the others you can get at the saloon.

You walk through the swinging double doors, happy to get out of the sun and the heat. You loosen your tie some more almost taking it off, but deciding at the last minute to keep it on. The barkeep looks up and gestures with his eyebrows, knowing by instinct that a man like yourself is no stranger to the drink. You smile and take a seat on the stool.

"What'll ya have stranger?"

You whip out the bottle of liquor and place it on the table. "A glass, if you please." The bartender eyes bend in disappointment at lost business but he takes out a shot glass just the same. You pour the liquid pleasure into the glass, careful not splash any of it--this bottle has to last you a while. Then you raise the glass in a silent toast (to which the bartender merely scowls) and down it in one gulp. It burns your tongue and throat and warms you to your toes. Definitely, unequivocally, the good stuff.

You're about to pour a second glass when a buxom young woman takes the seat next to yours. She's wearing a dress far too tight and frilly for the temperature, yet not one drop of sweat is on her skin. She opens a small fan and flutters it near her face.

"Now you look like the kind of man who knows how to enjoy his liquor." She says, her drawl is slow and sultry. Her legs are tightly crossed, one on top of the other, her lips slightly parted. "Let me guess." She says, leaning in. "You're a doctor aren't you?" You smile and finish pouring the drink.

>"I've been known to cure a few...aches from time to time."
>"You're subtle for a whore, I'll grant you that. But I never pay for what I can get for free. Buzz off."
>Pass the drink to her

>>970398
Write in: do you have a quest for me? I just wanna hurry up and get a magic item or good loot.

>>970398
>"You're subtle for a whore, I'll grant you that. But I never pay for what I can get for free. Buzz off."

>>970398
>"You're subtle for a whore."
Totally unapologetic Doctor.

>>970398
What do we look like?

>>970398
>Pass the drink to her

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>>970430

>>970437
Aw hell yeah, we could totes get pussy without payin' for it.

>>970398

>"You're subtle for a whore, I'll grant you that. But I never pay for what I can get for free. Buzz off."

Voting closed. Writing.

Is anyone else getting a Becker-ish vibe from this character

Also curious to extent of his scientific knowledge

>>970398

I've been known to cure a few...aches from time to time."

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"You're subtle for a whore, I'll grant you that. But I never pay for what I can get for free. Buzz off." You say and down another glass. The young lady, stunned, blinks a few moments before snapping her fan shut and walking away with a spiteful humph. You've seen what happens to soldiers who dance with their kind--it's not pretty and it rhymes with phenetol quartz. You prefer virginal daughters if you can get them. Always assured of a clean good time and the fathers always think "Well at least he's a doctor." Not that you've ever picked twice from a rosebush--you're not a cad, you just haven't found the right rose. Or do find one, and it turns out there's a better one next door.

You consider pouring a third drink, but decide that it might be best to remain sober when you meet the others--or at least not drunk. First impressions are important. You screw the cap on the bottle and stow it away. You head outside for the well and rinse your mouth and lips and pour some water over your head for good measure. The heat is intolerable. You open up a few buttons on your shirt and dab your throat with the cool water.

The wagons are all but loaded now. You have maybe a few minutes before they make the call for all interested parties.

>Head for the general store, see about getting some extra personal supplies.
>Save your money, you'll be needing it later.
>Head to the wagons and introduce yourself.

>>970539

Head to the wagons and introduce yourself

>>970539
>Head to the wagons and introduce yourself

>>970539
>>Head for the general store, see about getting some extra personal supplies.

>>970557
'ead to the 'aggons

>>970539
>Head to the wagons and introduce yourself.

Let's make sure that the first time we meet these people, won't be to poke around their ribs with a scalpel.

Vote closed. Writing.

>>970561

> Head to the warehouse and see about getting some personal supplies. We'll need a revolver, ammunition, and a handaxe, if possible.

>>970624
This this this.

I hope we still have time to hit up the general store before we head out.

>>970624
But we're a doctor, not a fighter!

Besides, I'm sure that with our rogue-ishly handsome face combined with a few educated sounding words, we can whisper our way out of any troublesome women's clothing.

That is until we meet the raptors, I guess.

You decide to meet with the caravansary now. Best to get the pleasantries out of the way before the unpleasantness of sewing up people's insides.

There are two loaded wagons and a third for passengers. Each one, pulled by a pair of yoked oxen. A family of 6 and a newlywed couple make up the mainstay of the caravansary. A noisy priest dressed in black robes perspires with divine dignity under the naked sun. He's having a heated, one-sided discussion with a man reclined in total silence by the wagon, his hat covers his face. The leader, a captain by the name of Matthew Dinwitty gives orders to the laborers as they stow the last of the vittles. Another man, possibly husband and father to the family of 6 stands by him and helps.

You introduce yourself to Dinwitty first.

"Good afternoon Captain." You wave as you approach.

"Eh? Who're you?" He says, shading his eyes to squint at you.

"I am Wal--Dr. Walter P. Abernathy sir. You had a correspondence with one of my patients, Mr. Smith? I have this letter..." You reach into your breast pocket to take out the letter of approval with the good captain's own signature. The leaflets you got from the missionary drop to the floor as you pull out the letter. The man next to the captain picks them up for you, sneaking a glance at their contents as he does so.

"Thank you." You say, taking the leaflets from his hand. He gives you a queer look. You hand the letter to the captain.

"Oh yes. Yes. Howdy Doctor. Sorry about that, we get so many around here it does get hard to keep track of it all." He says and laughs. He hands the letter back to you. "Well we're sure glad yer with us. Ya wouldn't know anythin' about deliverin' babies now wouldja?" He says, looking over at the newlyweds. Indeed the wife wears the swollen stomach of a patient pregnancy. You shake your head. What compels people to do such stupid things and complicate your simple life?

"It's a been a while since I've done a delivery." You say. Which is a half-truth, because you've never done a delivery--except your own.

"Well I hope that don't mean that you can't do a delivery at all. Course we've got Robert's wife here, she's birthed her fair share. Eh? Robert?"

"That she has Matthew. Nothing to worry about. The good doctor just needs to make sure he can cure the colds and coughs. Only danger there is--save the dinos and the braves." Says Robert.

"I assure you, Mr. Robert, coughs and colds pose me little trouble." You turn to the captain. "Therefore I have to ask, what are we doing about the dinos and the braves?" The captain in turn, gazes at the man being proselytized by the sweating priest.

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>>970902
"He's a vet. Know 'em personally, not a particularly nice man but a better shooter than anyone I know. And I ain't exactly a pisser myself." He says, patting the six-shooter at his belt. You look back the silent, hatted man and feel a chill down your spine. He has the look and sense of a kind of killer you've seen come out of the war, made senseless by the senselessness.

You head back introduce yourself to the rest of the gang. Mr. Robert's wife, Mrs. Sherman is a petite, austere woman and a mother to her bones. Her 4 children, 2 girls and 2 boys stand at absolute attention from her call. The eldest, Nancy, is taller than her mother by a head, but soft-spoken, pale to the point of sickness and shy. You find yourself attracted to her immediately and can sense, to your pleasure, a nervous reciprocation. Mrs. Sherman, however, dislikes you despite your doctoral status, perhaps seeing through your gentlemanly facade with her keen mother's instinct. It wouldn't be the first time.

The other children are young and in that stage of youthful ignorance, which bends even the worst hardship into play. The two boys, Grant and George are never seen not chasing or beating on each other in endless energy. And the youngest, Mary Sue, is doted upon by her older sister and clings inseparably to her cloth doll, Mrs. Buttermilk.

The newlywed couple are, as you expected, trouble. They are eloping, trying to make a new life in the "promised land." The husband, Elijah Rhodes was a soldier who had joined near the end of the war, saw a little fighting, got injured and then was nursed back to health by his later-to-be wife Caroline Huckerby. Then the war ended, and she was pregnant and being at least a man of honor, he sold his possessions, married her and then got a place in the caravan. One look at Mrs. Rhodes tells the whole story and you admit Mr. Rhodes' risks, while great, might be worth it for her. You yourself might have done the same in his place.

As for the priest, his bald head drips continually with a baptismal sweat. And his lips never cease an equal torrent of words, as if he were anointing himself in perpetuity. You avoid him entirely, religion is only good for an opiate or a profession. As a drunkard and a doctor, you make do by other means.

Your carefully measured introductions to the veteran manage to get only two sentences out of him: his name and his regiment. Cassidy Booth; Greyhound Division. The name spoke for itself and Mr. Booth knew it. Nothing more needed to be said.

By the time these introductions are finished it is time to head out. Mr. Booth and the captain ride in front with the oxen, while you and the rest sit inside the wagon, safe from the heat.

>Chat with Miss Nancy Sherman (and her mother)
>Chat with the newlyweds
>Chat with the priest (tell him to shut up for a few mintues)
>Chat with Mr. Roberts (he's been giving you queer looks this whole time)

>>970904
>Chat with Mr. Roberts (he's been giving you queer looks this whole time)

>>970904
>>Chat with Mr. Roberts (he's been giving you queer looks this whole time)

>>970929
>>970935
Third.

Vote closed. Writing. Last post for today.

"Mr. Sherman." You lean forward. "I didn't properly introduce myself earlier." You offer your hand. Mr. Sherman hesitates for a second then takes your hand, with, you sense, reluctance.

"Where are you and your family from sir?"

"Down south. Just a little town." He says.

"Oh well, I've been around a bit perhaps I've heard of it."

"I'm sure you have, and I'm sure you haven't." He says coldly. Discouraged by his icy demeanor you sink back into your seat. "Say is you a lessmen?" He blurts out, after a few minutes of silence.

"A lessmen? I don't--I'm sorry I've never of heard that, what is it?"

"You's liar too then." He says. Now wait a second, while you have lied before, he doesn't know that and he doesn't get to call you a liar.

"Now hold on sir, I'm no liar. I've never heard of this lessmen so I can't say whether I am one or not."

"You's a liar. I saw those leaflets, I know my letters. You's a missionary for those crazies with their "new prophets"."

The priest overhears this and immediately goes into a preacher's rage. "What? Is this true? Have thou been taken by the lesser words of lesser men! The lord is not a matter to be trifled with, for the lord is the grace of the world, he is the deliverer of the world, he is the rock of world--"

"Look, hold on a second here. I'm just delivering those leaflets for a...friend. I didn't even know what they were and I've never heard of, what did you say it was? 'Lessmen'? Well this the first I've heard of them." Even as you say these words you remember the little book that the missionary gave you--you'll have to dispose of that as soon as possible.

"Hmph. Well I know a liar when I see one."

"Daddy please!" Says Nancy. She strains to keep her eyes away from yours. "You shouldn't antagonize the good doctor like that without proof. He says he didn't know."

"Hush girl!" Says Mother Sherman and Nancy's mouth shuts like a snapped teapot. The wagon lurches to a sudden stop. It's only been a few hours, and there is still daylight out, it's too early to stop.

>Step outside and check out what's happening
>Stay put and wait, it could be dangerous

We will continue on Monday 6PM EST

>>971011
Can we punch this asshole? If not.
>Stay put and wait, it could be dangerous.

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Wagon could have stopped for a very good reason....

>>971011
>>Stay put and wait, it could be dangerous
Thanks for running, QM!

>>971142

The only good reason to stop a wagon in a land of dinos. And i'm fully expecting velociraptor riding bandits somewhere in the future

Game over already?

To bad, this had such promise