Not So Famous…

Maddox grunted as the padded sword collided with his ribcage.  He slid to his knees, sweat pouring off his face. His opponent spoke with scorn.

“You fight like a fool in motley, Maddox.  Did Captain Jael take your manhood as well as your sword hand?”  Maddox mumbled as he pushed himself up from the ground.

“Daggar…the Awesome.  He’s gonna pay if it’s the….”

“Quit your mumbling, you fool.  Daggar did not take your hand.  Daggar did not unman you! The Ravagers strike like the wind.  They take what they need, and they’re gone before anyone notices they’ve been plundered! You were caught gloating over your success in that Inn.  It is a mistake for a new recruit…not a proven man of The Ravagers!”

“But I…” Maddox’s opponent drew his dagger and flipped it up, catching Maddox under the chin and cutting him before he could even think to move his clumsy, new sword arm up to block the swipe.

“…You make excuses for yourself, fool. Were you caught?  Yes.  Should you have been?  No.  You’ll think twice next time.  Were you unaware that the Whistling Pig was mere feet from the garrison? Then it’s your fault for being unaware of your surroundings! Did you not know how much time had elapsed from the time the tavern cleared out?  Then it’s your fault for being ignorant of the passage of time! Take your revenge on Daggar, if you like.  Revenge is the bread and butter of The Ravagers, fool! But if I hear you blame Daggar one more time for the loss of your sword hand, I’ll take the other bloody one! Now lift your sword and prepare to defend yourself!”

“Yes Dondarron!”  Maddox threw himself into his re-training with his entire being. It truly was an honor to be re-trained by Dondarron Ravager, himself. Dondarron was but a teen when he founded The Ravagers in Arz and began to strike fear into the hearts of the people of the Eder Soult. He was still in his prime these days, and took it upon himself to train new recruits to the evil organization. However, there were always more recruits than Dondarron could handle. Thus, training with Dondarron Ravager was something akin to officer training; a fast track to promotion in The Ravagers. However, Maddox had come to expect such treatment from Dondarron.

While Maddox appeared to agree with Dondarron Ravager for the moment, he knew it really was Daggar who had caused this all to happen to him. He hadn’t started the bar fight.  He had only defended himself. He just couldn’t understand why Kamaer Jael had sided with that fool, Daggar. There was a moment in that courtroom, while Daggar was speaking, where Maddox had actually been inclined to agree with him! There had to be some sort of magic at work. Daggar only confirmed this when, as he walked out of the courtroom with Maddox’s map, he dropped a wink.  It was as if he were saying that he, Daggar the Awesome,  orchestrated all of this to cause Maddox to lose his hand. Dondarron Ravager brought him back to the present by abruptly halting his attack.

“Maddox, my son, if you’re not going to pay attention to the training, I’m not going to waste my time.  I know you’re in pain.” Maddox moved to object, but Ravager forestalled him. “…Oh, I know.  It’s not physical pain. You’re well past that, my leeches tell me. And don’t think Jael won’t pay for denying you even a cleric of Benyar to clean your stump. No, lad, the pain you feel is the pain of a lost loved one. We rogues love our swords…we love our ability to take life.  Well, son, I’m here to give you that skill again. However, know this: I did not rescue you from that shopkeeper in Arz simply to have you unmanned when you suffer the fate so common to our brethren.” This man who had taken the place of Maddox’s father was a different person when he was not training his students, especially toward Maddox. This shift in demeanor and warmth was not uncommon.

“I have spoken with my contacts in the Arz Shadow Guild, and they have confirmed that a halfling thief matching the description of he who stole that map from you in Farzy showed up in Arz this week for training. They did a bit of searching and found Daggar at a nearby Kobar, studying to become a better fighter.  Now…” Maddox forgot himself in his rage.

“Sir!  You must instruct them to…” Dondarron Ravager was having none of Maddox’s insolence, however, and shoved him, causing him to try to catch himself with his stump and subsequently falling to his knees in pain. He put a hand on Maddox’s shoulder, and looked at him fiercely with his black eyes.

“Maddox, I ‘must’ do nothing of the sort.  My contacts in the Shadow Guild are of an informative sort.  I help support their guild, but they will take no actions on my behalf. What’s more, you are currently no match for even the mage that traveled with them at one time.  Now, it appears the cleric of Thor and the mage have parted company, but Daggar and the thief have been making noises that they are looking for buyers for magical items as well as hirelings: a map-monkey and a MICHARU. Wherever they’ve been, it looks like they’ll be going back.  You, however, will not leave this facility until you are ready, and I will be the judge of that.  So rest now, but be prepared to start your training in earnest again tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.” Maddox was thought of as a son by Dondarron Ravager, but it was hard for him to see Ravager as anything other than a beloved commander. His own father had beat him both senseless and senselessly. Maddox refused to have a father. But he would continue his re-training on the morrow, and he would make fast progress…

…because he knew exactly where Daggar the Jackass, and the thief would be in a couple weeks, and he intended to meet them there.

William Harrison Bonney picked up his parcels from Old Man Hickart’s General Store, and took them outside to load them onto his wagon. His son, Billy, ran aimlessly around the wagon, oblivious to the danger that faced his young family. Katherine, William’s wife, had died the previous year of consumption, and William was of a mind to move out west. He had family in the Mormon nation of Deseret, and hoped they would take in young Billy, at least. The general store was his last stop on the outskirts of Batesburg before he made his long run into Deseret.

William had served in the National Army during the War of the Rebellion, and it seemed that he was doomed to run from the law from the day he got out. It didn’t help that he fought for a cause which he wasn’t entirely sure he really supported. Still, he was drafted from New York, and the State of New York was a Union State, sure enough. His discontent with the Blue Bellies and their aggression toward the Rebs was enough to cause William to consider other ways he might spend his time. Running guns seemed a good way to make a little cash, but it got him discharged from the army in short order. From then on, things just started getting worse.

He fell in with a railroading gang, responsible for the terrorizing of the Union Pacific railroad in the Nebraska Territory. The boys and he had knocked over many a train, and had secured them a virtual fortune. As soon as the gang had what they wanted, they set Bonney up in an ambush on a train job. It was then that William Bonney first came into contact with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

The Pinkertons had hounded his steps all the way to the Republic of Texas, where they joined forces with the Rangers. Bonney robbed a bank in Santa Fe for pocket change to feed his family, hastening his departure from Texas, and sending him toward Deseret. Rumor was that the Mormons weren’t allowing any lawmen from the United States of America, the Confederate States of America, or the Republic of Texas onto their lands. He didn’t much care for Mormonism by and large, but had family in their number, and he knew that the Mormons had a soft spot for family if they swore the oaths.

William lashed his goods into his wagon, and called for Billy to get in the wagon. Billy quickly obeyed. Suddenly, a voice rang out.

"William Harrison Bonney! You are hereby ordered to drop all weapons and surrender to Earl Jasper of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency immediately. I’ve got near 20 men here, and we’ve been deputized to bring you in, dead or alive. Don’t make this messy, Bonney. I know you’ve got your son with you!"

William looked around and saw that the posse hadn’t caught sight of him yet. He agonized for a split second that felt like an eternity, and made the most difficult decision of his life. He kicked the pin out of the harness holding the wagon, and vaulted onto his horse.

"Billy, you’ll be better off without my weight around your neck dragging you down." Just then, a shout let him know that the Pinkertons had caught sight of him. "Goodbye, Kid! HYAH!" He spurred his horse to a gallop and sped out of town, the Pinkertons hot on his trail.

The sun was high overhead, and William knew his chances were slim without water. His chances were slimmer being near the Pinkerton’s, however, so he spurred his horse toward Deseret. His thoughts, though, remained with a provision-filled wagon and a teary-eyed boy who would never see his father again. From that day forward, William "Billy" H. Bonney followed in his father’s footsteps, though he remained always…the Kid.