Shadow Gorge RP

"Sheriff!" Elmer called out, waving to try to grab Sheriff Flint's attention before he disappeared into the saloon. Elmer was still astride the harnessed mule, attempting to hurry the animal along, nudging it harder with his heels. But it plodded along at its slow pace regardless. So instead he stopped the mule and slid down to the ground. "Oof.." he said, limping a few steps as the stiffness worked out of his knee. "Sheriff, it's the damnedest thing... just went up ta the mine site and there ain't a soul there..." he said worriedly. "You heard anythin' bout a strike?"

Esme Black-Wilkerson had never been fond of saloons. They were filled with drunks, and Esme absolutely despised drunks. Her fourth husband, Jameson Butler, had been a saloon-owner and world-class drunk. The jagged scar that ran across Esme’s lips, leaving them unsymmetrical, was the result of Butler hitting her across the face in a fit of rage, after she’d told him to slow the drinking down. Vain as she was, Esme hated Butler for tarnishing her beauty, and after his death, she’d begun projecting that hatred onto saloons and drunks in general.

But despite her own feelings, she was on her way to the saloon that morning, with a list in her hand. She needed to buy a few bottles of whiskey for old Wilkerson, and a few bottles of both rum, whiskey, wine and tobacco for some other visitors, she was expecting.

It was still quiet that morning, when she walked past the Sheriff and a miner, and stepped into the saloon. She preferred getting her errands done, before the saloon would fill up.

“Mornin’ miss Mae,” Esme greeted as she walked up to the bar.

Esme folded out the piece of paper, she’d turned into her grocery list for the day. Or - half her grocery list. She’d taken the task of bringing back alcohol and tobacco on her own, while sending her maid to fetch the other things they needed, and that Esme couldn’t care less about.

“Wilkerson is out of whiskey,” Esme said, referring to her aging husband. “I am going to need two bottles of nice whiskey for him, as well as two bottles of rum, three bottles of wine, and the purest tobacco you have. Last time I tried to buy tobacco from the General Store, it was mixed with roasted chicories, and was bitter enough to pull a tooth from your jaw.”

Esme’s eyes fell briefly on the sheriff again, before returning to Mae.

“How’s thing going at home on the ranch, miss Mae?”

"Iffn you can find him, Flint!" Elmer said, following Jonas into the saloon, wanting to hear what Miss Mae had to say. "He weren't there either!" The stiffness in his knee worked out a little more with each step and wasn't quite so pronounced by the time they came inside, though it was always noticeable.

Upon seeing the two women, Elmer straightened himself up a little and took off his hat, smoothing back his grey hair that looked due for a washing. He'd been in here last evening, drinking a little too much, which might have something to do with why he was so late getting to work this morning.

"Ladies," he greeted, though seemed hesitant to interrupt their conversation, deferring immediately to the sheriff.

" No, I recall them talking about trying to mine deeper last night, to see if they hit another vein of gold or ore, but nothin' 'bout goin' on strike."
She answered before her eyes darted around the bar to see if she was needed by any other patrons that may have wandered in.

Elmer's memories of the previous night were fuzzy at best. Though he did recall the site engineer and the other big bugs going on about needing to go deeper before the current seam ran out. All a little above Elmer's pay grade.

He was still new to this type of underground mining. He was much more experienced in open-cast methods from simple panning to using a rocker box. He even owned his own 'Long Tom', a larger version of a rocker box, for a couple years and had a whole crew to work it before the endeavor had eventually gone belly-up. They had set up the long sophisticated gold mining contraption alongside a stream bed. There was plenty of digging involved there too, but rarely very deep.

Going underground every day still made him a tad uneasy. "You don't think... there coulda been a collapse or something?" he asked worriedly. Surely, there would have been SOMEONE still above ground if that was the case though... right?

"I'll come with you..." Elmer didn't even hesitate to volunteer. There were many among the miners that he counted as friends and he wasn't going to sit by and twiddle his thumbs if something bad might have befallen them.

A whole host of worrying possibilities went through his mind. From the potential for a collapse to contaminated air in the mine to the possible strike that he was missing out on or even the idea that Indians had come along and taken them all hostage!

All his theories seemed to have some holes in them, nothing quite adding up. Hopefully, there was a simple explanation for all of it. Maybe they were just playing some kind of practical joke on him, having a good laugh at his expense.

" I do recall that one of the natives that my father hired to help out on the ranch did say that the mountain shouldn't be disturbed when he heard about the plans t mine there." Mae said while going to get wood to throw on the fire just outside the saloon.

Elmer's eyes widened slightly at that news. He'd always been pretty superstitious. "He say why, Miss Mae?" the old prospector asked, adding 'ghosts' to his list of far-fetched possible explanations before she even got a chance to answer. Which made him swallow a bit nervously that he'd already offered to accompany Sheriff Flint into the mine.

" One of them mentioned something in the mountain. That's all he said." Mae said. Her father's employee refused to elaborate on what that something was so she no other information.

"Whaddaya make a that, Sheriff?" Elmer asked worriedly. "Maybe we best get a few more 'fore we go. In case a trouble?"

The aging prospector glanced briefly at the other woman in the saloon. He didn't know too much about her other than some rumors that she'd had a string of bad luck in the husband department.

But almost everyone Elmer knew in the town had just up and disappeared, which left him without any friends to go ask for help. "Either a you ladies got any menfolk 'round that might come along?"

Esme listened carefully to the conversation. She didn’t have any association or connections to the mine, other than the fact that she owned a small house a mile or so from it. If the mine had collapsed, she’d have to talk with the owner of the company, and find out if her house was in danger - and if it was, she’d have to sell quickly, so it wouldn’t be her problem.

“I got a stable boy or two, I can send with you,” Esme said to the man, who’d accompanied the sheriff. “They don’t speak English. Just came here from Sweden... or Norway? I don’t know. Wilkerson can’t join ya. He’s got too old for such things.”

Esme then turned to Mae again. “Miss Mae, do you have the stuff, I asked for ready in the bar, or should I send a girl to fetch it later on the day?”