Clyde

The man had apologized and then asked if the critter bothered Clyde, and the cowboy just smiled. “I ain’t that easy to bother sir, just curious about where you got one of them.” A kind cowboy in a VRMMO was a strange sight to see, the cowboy knew that much, but even weirder was a ferret chasing a ball. Especially considering this game has so many deadly monsters. “How you keep that feller from gettin’ hurt while you’re out here huntin’ and stuff? I’m not very high leveled at all, so I generally just avoid the monsters, but you’re bein’ a bit reckless. You must be really strong for you to be so careless. Hell... you missed a whole person.” He laughs, puffing off of his cigar and blowing the smoke upwards.

There was no doubt Clyde was good at finding people out, but he was also quick to judge. This man could be a killer looking for him, but no killer would have such a small nice feller like that ferret of his. Maybe he’s just lookin’ for a spot to unwind. Take a nap like I was. He motions to where he just came from while leaning back on a tree. “If yer wantin’ a view, best spot I found is right over there. A good bottle o’ whiskey and a nice cigar will make it 100% better.” He puts the cigar out on the tree and starts walking back towards his cliff. “Yer welcome to join me in a drink if ya want, but I like my liquor strong.” He chuckles.

Ah, what a beautiful day? I can’t believe ain’t nothin’ comin’ here ti bother me while I watch the ocean move. The cowboy smiles, looking over the cliff at the ocean. His legs dangle over the edge and his hat rests on a bottle of booze. His poncho sits just far enough back that if he were to lay down it’d make a pillow. Too bad my little brother ain’t here to see this. He’d love this place. He chuckles and puffs on his cigar, his bedraggled hair is swept back by his other hand. It looks like the ending of a movie almost, after the drifter hero had saved the girl and decided it’d be better to leave her be rather than ruin her life by being in it. I’ll see ‘im when I get out. He looks over to follow the shore line, see if there’s anyway to get down to the ground, when suddenly a rodent or critter of some kind comes to a halt just short of the cliff and Clyde reaches down to grab his belt, the knife in the sheath dangling down as he picks it up and puts it on.

”Well I’ll be damned. I’m not alone out here.” He kicks his bare feet up onto the ground beneath him, gabbing his boots and putting them on.

After about a minute of hopping around and throwing on his outfit, the man finally puts his hat on his head. His spurs ring true as he cuts through the shrubbery and sees a man, holding the critter from before and walking away. “Howdy mister? Is that your little long rat there?” He asks, his southern accent making it smooth as all heck.

@Mishiro

((OOC: Sorry for taking so long, time seemed to just slip by.))

Clyde’s hand releases the boy’s as the new person approaches and introduces himself. This man looks entirely different from the two players that were already here, and Clyde just smiles. “Well looks like we got ourselves a merry band of misfits here now.” The southern accent being just the right intensity to sound real. His and comes up and tilts his small black hat at the new player. “Name’s Clyde, Pleasure to meet ya’.” He drops his hand down to his waist and rests them on his hips. Well this may just be a fun little excursion. Maybe after I’ll go back and fish for another few hours. He pulls the cigar out of his mouth again, blowing the smoke into the air and ashing it before placing it between his teeth once more. His red poncho is probably an irregular sight to all the players around, and his entire outfit underneath probably gets the same reaction. His hand comes up and opens his inventory. “This ain’t gonna be one-a them stupid quests where ya ain’t really fightin’, is it?” He asks as he removes the red cape. His outfit looked more like a regular texan at this point, and less of a drifter or a stranger with no name.

@Haltar Dhrim @Kazzy

So bar hopping and drinking his sorrows away didn’t work like they did in the real world, so what? Didn’t make it any less fun in this one. Just made him taste every last drop of that Tennessee Whiskey the way it was meant to be drank. Why, this ain’t half bad when you’re sober. Of course, it’s better drunk, cause then I don’t realize how much of that damn col stuff I’m spendin’. He sets his glass down and the ice settles, making a clink as the man stands up and turns, noticing the bulletin board as he picks his hat up off of the bar. “My my... A note. Wonder if this feller is still waiting there.” He looks at the note closely and thinks for a moment, putting a cigar in his mouth. “Hey barkeep, how long’s this notice been up?” He asks, getting a satisfactory answer and equipping his gear. Might as well go on and see what’s up... If it ain’t nothin’ special I’ll just go fishin’. He lights his cigar and walks out of the tavern.

About two days later, the sun has nearly reached it’s apex and the man had made it to this run of the mill village, seeing people walk around and wondering who this Haltar feller was. He walks over to the first person he sees and asks for Haltar. The player’s reaction wasn’t a positive one, but not negative enough to draw much attention. 

After a few more tries he finally sees a brown haired player and walks up to him. “Howdy, would you happen to know who this Halter... Altar... however that damned name is pronounced?” He tilts his hat, puffing on a cigar and smiling kindly.

@Haltar Dhrim @Kazzy 

“I was lookin’ for me a lake to go fishin’ in. Of course, this one here is great, but I’d like a larger lake.” He smiles confidently and pulls his cigar out of his mouth, releasing more smoke and throwing the last little bit away as it explodes into blue shards. “Anyways, what was it? Rushdown, can I call you Rush? Wanna gather some materials with a humble cowboy.” He tilts his black gambler hat and smirks a little. I wonder if he knows his plants. He turns and starts walking, hoping to god the guy follows. “Raisin’ hell on your own is just lame, come on old pal, let’s ride.” His spurs clang as he walks, his poncho covering the majority of his torso.

The man had done his damnedest to look like the cowboys from the movies. “So... what’re you up to Rush? I’m sorry I popped up out of nowhere and invited ya on this little adventure.” He turns towards the player and puts a pouch of dip in his lip. “I know it’s gotta be scary them player killers out there.” He turns and starts walking, this time waiting to see if the player had accepted his invite.

@Rushdown

The man had made his way out to the lake, planning to fish all day and head back to his favorite honkey tonk to party all night. The water was warm, but not too warm, and the water while relatively still, moved just slightly, breaking the reflection of the sun in a beautiful way that reminded the cowboy of the pond on his dad’s farm. “Ah, I’d reckon this is home to a bass or two. Can’t go noodlin’ though, too many small critters.” He looks around, hearing footsteps from not so far away. “Ooh, I could have myself a posse.” His spurs on his boots clink as he cuts through the shrubbery and out to see a player in the grass. “Howdy!” He shouts to the other player, puffing on his cigar and releasing smoke, as he tips his hat with his other hand.

Having greeted the player, the man would walk up to him and extend his arm for a handshake, smiling like the devilish cowboy he is. “Name’s Clyde, and you are?” He asks, tilting his head up, but in a respectful manner.

@Rushdown

Clyde’s hand comes up and scratches his beard. “Then what’re we doing standing here? We’ve got an [censored] to whoop.” He claps, turning and walking towards the shop that so many people had told him about. The spurs on is boots made quietly walking to the shop and getting out impossible. His black hat finds its place on his head once again as he enters the shop. “Howdy sir, are you the one who wants that elf dead? Because I’ll gladly take the poor guy down.” He says, the blacksmith explaining the story behind the quest while Clyde smokes and listens. These npcs alway take forever to explain things. If only there was an option to skip. His hands wrap around his belt buckle in the classic cowboy pose. “Well, me and my posse will get this mangy dog and the bounty will go to that buckaroo right there.” he points towards Ragnarok, as the blacksmith nods and offers to give them armor in return for their troubles.

@Ragnarok

Clyde enters the shop, having heard his item was completed. His hat comes off and his southern accent comes out, “I’ll be damned, you creative types sure work fast.” He walks over, handing the man a pouch of materials and gabbing the dagger. His hand pulls the sheathe off of the blade and he examines the engraving with an intent gaze. The sheathe moves over to his belt and he smiles. “I might just have to become a regular.” He smiles towards the shop owner with his country boy charisma taking control. “Well, thank ya fer the tennessee tickler, I’ll be on my way now.” He steps out of the shop and into the town once again.

-Obtained: <<Billy’s Last Ride>>

Clyde had received a message from the tailor who was paid for the task of making a new hat for the man. Wow, all ready? I reckon this man might be the best one around here. He walks into the shop, having waited a day since he last showed up, his legs carry him into the shop. “Well that was fast, you know how to run yourself a business sir. You must be a very sharp man.” He says to the man, grabbing the hat off of the counter and putting it on, replacing his dull brown hat. His spurs click with a tune like that of bells being muffled by a hand on the cap.

-obtained: <<Gambler’s Hat>>

Clyde has heard about the blazing typhoon from passers by, his interest had piqued and he gave in. “I reckon I should check this shop out.” He walks in, removing his hat so as to not be rude. His spurs clink as he walks in and looks around the building. The general setup is a classy blacksmith shop, a man sits in the back and Clyde’s head tips towards him. “Why, you wouldn’t happen to be the proprietor of this establishment, would ya pardner?” He asks, moving over and filling out a request. After his request is complete he turns towards the owner and smiles, turning and walking out.

-6 T1 Mats

Clyde entered the shop he had heard of so few times before, the man’s hat resting on his head as he tries to figure out the way around this shop. He finally realizes what to do and starts filling out an order. What should I get? A new hat? A new poncho? His hand strokes the scruff of his stubble, thinking. He finally lands on a decision as he smiles, his cigar releasing a little bit of smoke, more pouring out of his smoke “I reckon this should about cover it.” His transaction menu opens up as he transfers the specified amount of col. With that the man walks out of the shop, shooting a finger gun and winking.

-1100 col

Arthur had heard about hunting elves out in the woods on the third floor. These pointy eared freaks are always so frickin’ snobby in these sorts of games. I reckon I could take them down a peg. His hand falls on his dagger as he walks through the streets towards the shop offering the quest. His eyes scan the other players because these quests are always boring, and he would like to bring someone to talk to while he killed the enemy. “Howdy sir, would you like to accompany an old cowboy on a little adventure?” His question answered with a roll of the eyes and the player he asked walking away. This same reaction coming from a few more players until he approaches another man. His hat is removed before his southern drawl carries out a question. “Howdy sir? Would you like to take a walk with me? I might have to kill an elf, but that’s beside the point.” He smiles, his cigar dancing as he does.

@Ragnarok

Clyde chuckles at the lady for a moment. “Nah, It wasn’t to help you, my steppin’ In. It was to whoop a man’s [censored].” He puffs on the cigar, releasing some smoke and putting his cigar out, watching it disappear into crystal shards. This ain’t gonna go too well. He pulls his hat off out of respect for the lady. “I reckon you could’ve handled it yourself, hell, I know you could’ve and without any trouble. I just saw an oppurtunity to have some fun and took it. Now I’ll be on my merry way and you can move out of it, ma’am.” He walks past the woman, his spurs sing with every step he takes. There truly wasn’t any reason for him to have stepped in other than a good ol’ fashioned beat down, but he took the chance. Why not have fun in this game? “Actually ma’am, if you don’t mind my askin’, would you like to accompany me on a quest? Might not be fun but it’s free experience.” He smiles politely, right before putting a pinch of chew in his mouth.

@Embers

Arthur’s left eyebrow raised itself. She has no idea how much hard work goes into real farming. Of course I added in a real touch to the in game gathering system, so she probably thinks I’m stupid. He looks at her after her sarcastic question. “Yes. ‘Til he was 20 he went town to town bein’ a farmhand until he reached my hometown. Reality can be more surreal than you think, redcoat.” He puffs on his cigar, putting it out and tossing it away. “I’m lookin’ for a cattle dog.” He frowns at the next comment and looks at her. “So I said somethin’ stupid. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little stupid.” He nods toward her with a smile on his face. “But you ever go and get yerself lost in them woods in the real world, ya go’n need that knowledge to make it back home. Can’t ask your queen for with no cell service, can ya?” He chuckles a little. “I’m just playin’, just stay safe ya know?” He leans forwards and walks to where the sage was. “That’s not the only plant in the world.” His spurs sing as he walks deeper into the woods and comes across a path, the path he was on before.

@Kirbs

A Brit? Oh boy, this ain’t go’n go too smoothly now will it? His hand flips the dagger and sheathes it in an instant. “Ah, good ol’ fashioned farming? Well I know a thing or two about that.” He drops down, pointing at a plant and taking note of its size and shape. “This one here is sage, but it ain’t ready yet. Y’ain’t go’n have too much luck pickin’ that.” His knife drops down and breaks the stem in a masterful technique. “Smells like sage too, damn Kayaba, you had way too much time on your hands.” The object begins to decay before the two. “When it ain’t ready, that’s what happens. In real life you just can’t use it.” His legs straighten as he stands up tall once again, lumbering over to lean against a tree. “Once you learn your plants well enough, you can gather like a pro. But don’t forget to replant, cause here’s a tip... nothing grows when the seed ain’t planted.” A smirk crosses his face. This was the same talk he had given one of his brothers when hunting. The talk was a modified version of course, because they were in a game where anything you can’t use disappears, but it was the same baseline. “This one time, my dad got lost while taking us boys huntin’ and we had to survive on our own for a bit. That’s when he taught us how to identify, assess and prepare food in the wild.” A weak chuckle places itself in the middle of his sentence. “That’s when I realized my dad was a real cowboy.” He looks at the ground, his smile gone as he fiddles with his knife.

@Kirbs

Clyde watched this fight go to crap in the blink of an eye. Two men attacked the woman and the cowboy’s blood started boiling as the men got their butts whooped and rightfully so. Guess it’s a brawl then. His spurs clinked as he ran in and tackled a man, carrying him out of the equation and then into the wall. Punching him like an angry child fighting over a toy, but a little more expertly placed. His fist slams into the man’s kidney and then into his face. “I reckon that about evens it up ma’am. If you’d like my help just go ahead and ask.” His spurs clink again as he knees the man in the gut. “But considering what I just watched, I should be asking the scum if they would like help.” He chuckles, puffing off his cigar and releasing the smoke. His hat off kilter after beating the idiot to a pulp. “These idiots deserve the ass whooping their about to get.” His southern drawl carrying his smoke mixed with his words. His fist slams into the man against the wall one more time. “You should stay down kid. Ain’t no man allowed to rough up a lady in front of a cowboy, that’s about the stupidest mistake you could possibly manage to make you dog gone fool.” His face so intense that the man was a little scared and decided to stay down. “Good choice, now, let’s watch these kids get their butts handed to them.” He sits against the wall, holding down a can of chew.

@Embers

The man had been walking through the woods, now that the gypsy lady was gone, he was gonna find him a good dog, one that would help him fight. As he walked he heard a thud followed by a shouting girl out about 30 feet. Not too far to hear my spurs. Surprised she don’t know I’m here. He turns and the light clink of the small wheels on his feet ring as he makes his way to see a girl with another monstrosity on her shoulder. Why do all the girls have the weirdest animals? He walks up to her, takes off his hat and holds out his hand. “The name’s Clyde, and who might you be?” His southern charm still there without him even trying. He then puts his hat into his inventory, because it’s rude to speak to a lady with a hat on, and pulls out his knife. “Y’ain’t gonna get too far with just your head.” He spins quickly holdin his knife with an ice pick grip and slams it into the tree. An immortal object window pops up. “Damn, this game knows how to ruin all the fun stuff.” A chuckle flows out, well, as much as a chuckle can flow. “What’re ya out here for ma’am?” A tilt of the head keeps this question from being too polite.

@Kirbs

So Arthur, I reckon today should be a relaxing day. Take a load off and sit in a tavern. He watched as the trees danced in the wind, his pancho following suit and revealing his plaid dress shirt underneath it. His had would normally have shifted or even blown off, but this game didn’t allow stuff like that to happen. One hand on his belt buckle the other holding a cigar in his mouth as he smiles. It’s a damned fine day if I do say so myself. His inner thoughts interrupted by an old woman, looks to be a gypsy. “You know, you don’t have to stand here alone.” She starts her conversation so politely. “I know, but some people just get on my nerves. Makes me wish this place was more like back home.” He chuckles, so does she. “I feel the same way, but I’m not recommending you stand with people.” The cowboy removes his cigar and looks at her with the side eye of death, “So you’re the one who activated that quest?” He nods. “I’ll take it. No point in rotting away in a death game without anyone at your side.” His spurs click as he walks away from the lady with a finger gun out to the side and a wink. “Much obliged.” He flicks his cigar out to the side and walks, eating a piece of garlic bread and moving towards the woods. He spins a pouch around and eventually attaches it to his belt, like a gold pouch in the old movies about knights.

-golden garlic bread consumed (+3 LD)

@Kirbs

Clyde had heard about this place from people walking past, and this one kid with brown hair and a blue sweatshirt had mentioned he buys all his snacks from this place. “I reckon I should try this place’s grits.” He runs his hand through his beard as he walks in and looks at the menu. So they all have stat bonuses, nice. Then one item in particular popped out to him, garlic bread. That’s what that one weird girl ate when she found that devil of a critter. His hand points to it as he removes his hat and speaks to the lady. “Pardon me ma’am, but can I have one of those garlic bread things?” His southern drawl carrying his words as he transfers four materials to the shop owner.

- golden garlic bread

- -4 T1 materials

Arthur noticed a commotion after leaving the old man’s shop. Being here to get a quest was gonna be work anyways, might as well take a load off watching a fight. He pushes himself towards the front of the crowd and notices something weird about this fight. The fights in this game were always different, but a few guys against a single girl. This wasn’t gonna fly for the cowboy without a gun, it was wrong to hit a girl, let alone team up on one. The man positioned himself behind the girl, but remained in the crowd, despite towering over most of the other players there he seemed to fit in quite nicely.a cigar pressed between his lips as he watched to see what would happen, and if it did happen, to step in. “My money’s on the lady in there. Those clowns ain’t got a shot in hell.” He smiles, knowing he might play a part in this real soon. “Kick their asses, lord knows they deserve it.” He says to the woman standing in front of him.

Hmm, she looks like she’s gonna enjoy herself. A woman with a heart of fire, just like momma always said. He chuckles and discretely draws his Arkansas Toothpick, hiding it under his pancho. Despite her bein’ a lady, I don’t wanna get in her way. I’ll only step in if the others step in. The man removes his hat and fixes his hair, stepping around towards the middle of the fight but remaining in the crowd, the spurs on his boots making a small jingle as he walks, like his own theme song. “It’s just about high noon, so why are y’all waitin’?” His sarcastic tone mixing perfectly with his southern charm. Enough to make any southern belle lose here daisy dukes.

@Embers

The man walks towards the grass a good length from the beach. Then the girl says it’s been a pleasure and he turns towards her. “It definitely wasn’t not fun.” He walks again, turning and walking away from her. His kind words and mannerisms made it less obvious he hadn’t had much fun on that beach. We wasted so much time, and all she did was sit on the beach. Which ain’t a problem, I don’t dislike her, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to do this again. His hands sway as he walks through the grassy areas and navigates through the few parties of players looking for fun on the beach. Then one calls out. “Hey cowboy! Come party with us!” A female player shouts to him. Super tempting offer but I should at least walk the girl back to town. “I’ll be back later to party with y’all.” He responds to all of them. Turning back to the young girl and speaking. “I have to walk you back to town. Pa would have my neck if I just let you walk back to town all by your lonesome.” he tilts his hat and then looks forward, walking towards his destination.

(OOC: sorry it took longer than expected, I had a lot of real life stuff)

@Pleue

The man slowly moves towards the creature and looks at it closely. “I guess it ain’t so bad.” He pokes the jar and grimaces. “Ain’t exactly a looker though.” He stands up straight again and looks at the short girl, turning and sitting down on the sand. Well, there’s a day wasted. I guess the game likes to take time from us so much that everyday has to be boring. He pulls out his knife and starts to examine it, looking at the edge of the blade, then the flat of it. Nothing out of the ordinary so he sheathes it once again and stands up, re equipping his regular cowboy attire. “It looks to be gettin’ late, I reckon we should head back.” He says to the girl making his way up the beach and towards the main area of the island. “Ain’t you gotta train the thing anyways, I heard the quest ain’t really over til it can pull its own weight.” He looks back as he walks, eyeing the critter once again. 

@Pleue

Clyde looks down at the small creature and instantly fear creeps up his spine as he stands there. “What in the blazes is that?” He looks at it, obviously scared. His legs move behind him as he backs away. “That’s no pet ma’am, that’s a monster.” His hand moving back to hold the grip of his knife. His eyes examine the small thing as he backs away. “That thing is not of this world.” His voice shaking. He couldn’t hide his terror as he sees an unknown monster right next to the small girl. I reckon it can’t be bad because supergenius isn’t scared. Usually the brainy ones don’t handle their fear so well.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. His composure coming back to him as he calms down. Okay, the monster probably can’t hurt me. He looks down at the critter and grins a little. “Okay, I guess I can tolerate it’s existence for now. But that don’t mean I like it.” He stares down at the thing,

@Pleue

The man sits down and rakes his hands through the sand. The way he moves makes it look like he’s very experienced at looking for smallcritters in shallow water. “Do you know the trick?” He shoves his fingers into the sand and almost turns it over as he pulls it back. “I used to find critters like this, they’re good bait for catfishin’. I reckon we won’t be using the critter we find fer fishin’, that wouldn’t be so kind.” He chuckles, leaving a trail of overturned sand, small critters like worms and snails crawling their way through the mess. “You ever been fishin’ miss?” He asks, curious to know just how deeply their differences run.

I guess having a new friend in her would be very boring. All she does is respond. Has she even started one conversation? He hands her his hat. “Mind holdin’ this for a moment? I’ve got somethin’ to do.” He runs into the water, drawing his knife and diving in, removing his shirt so he’s just in his jeans as he swims down towards the small animal he just saw. This is the best way to fish. He reaches out, grabbing a small animal and slashing it’s guts and swimming back up to the surface, breathing in deeply through his nose with a fish in his mouth, flailing around. His hand moves out as he swims towards the shore, and he spits the fish out. “Back home that’s how we did it.” He takes the material and throws it away. “I reckon we shouldn’t keep spoils so easily taken. Ain’t nothin’ free in this world.” He grabs his hat, putting it back on his head as he nods at her, and he equips his shirt. “Thanks for holdin’ my hat ma’am.” 

@Pleue

Cullen equips his hat once again, and he puts on sunglasses. “So we’re lookin’ in the shallow water?” He asks, moving next to her, when she brings up his taste in women. “I figure if I’m gonna be good at cookin’, my gal better be okay with eatin’. All the high maintenance lasses who never eat, worried about what they wear and which celebrity they look like, they only eat salad.” His hands rake through the wet sand as he begins to form something in the sad, like he’s trying to build something. “I learned to cook at the age of 13, Father told me it’d be a great way to get the attention of ladies. I’m okay with any woman, but if she doesn’t like my cookin’ I won’t be so uppity anymore.” His eyes move up to her again, his hands having made the shape of a house, and the tide running up and tearing it down. “Sorry, didn’t mean to vent like that.” His eyes move back down to where the structure was. That was weird, how am I supposed to explain that one? He looks kind of worriedly at the ground and thinks. The look of introspection holding tightly to his face.

@Pleue