If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, 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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For the first time since the disaster in Blackwater, a genuine spark of hope ignited in Arthur Morgan's chest. He looked at the sprawling, magnificent hotel in construction, and then back at Caleb. "A future," Arthur repeated softly. He let out a long, slow breath, a heavy burden lifting from his shoulders. "Alright, Caleb. Alright. What do you need me to do?"
Hearing that, Caleb shook his head with a low, easy chuckle, the sound barely carrying over the roar of the mountain river below the balcony. The sight of Arthur Morgan, the gang's most lethal and loyal enforcer, looking at him with such earnest readiness to build rather than destroy was a profound victory.
"There's nothing for you to do yet, Arthur," Caleb said, his voice carrying a reassuring warmth. "At least, not in terms of doing some actions, shooting, or hauling lumber. For now, the most important thing you can do for me is just keep it a secret. Keep it from Hosea, from John, and from the entire gang back at the homestead."
Arthur furrowed his brow slightly, the instinct to share everything with Hosea warring with his newfound trust in Caleb's vision. "Keep it quiet? For how long?"
"Just until the time is right," Caleb explained, turning his back to the railing to look at the massive, skeletal framework of the expanding lodge. "When this initial construction is done, there's still another entire set of construction that needs to be done. The interior detailing, the landscaping, the hot springs out back... none of this is fine yet. It's vulnerable. But when it's completely finished, polished, and operating, that's when I can go and tell Hosea. And then the entire gang."
Caleb's eyes gleamed with the bright, ambitious light of a man who held the future in his hands. "When the doors officially open, I want all of them to come up here. They can even become my first set of customers to the hotel, for free, of course, the finest lodgings, the best food Pearson and my new chefs can put together. Let them sleep in real beds with clean sheets. And once they see it, they can even see if they would like to work here. I'm going to need trusted people to run this place, Arthur. To manage the desk, secure the grounds, handle the VIPs. And what's more trusted than literally family?"
Arthur, hearing that, slowly nodded his head. A small, rare smile touched the corners of his scarred mouth, softening the hardened lines of his face. The idea of the gang actually having legitimate jobs, living under a solid roof instead of a leaky canvas tent, was a dream he had long since abandoned.
"Of course, Caleb," Arthur agreed, his voice a low, steady rumble of commitment. "I'll keep my mouth shut. It's not like I haven't kept a secret for you in the past from the rest of the gang. If this is the hand you're playing, I'll back your play."
Arthur turned his gaze back to the grand hotel, taking in the scale of the mahogany doors and the sweeping verandas. He let out a low, appreciative whistle.
"Truly a prospect, working at such a fancy place," Arthur mused, a hint of his usual dry humor returning to his tone. He continued by saying, "The girls would definitely love it. Tilly and Karen in a place like this? They'd think they died and went to heaven. Well... other than Mrs. Adler, of course."
Arthur smirked, adjusting his hat. "Sadie would probably lose her mind serving tea to rich folks. She would much prefer to join us men to do the guarding, the hunting, and the bounty hunting out in the woods."
Caleb and Mary-Beth, standing close beside him, let out a small, shared laugh at that. It was an incredibly accurate assessment of the fiery widow.
"That's true," Caleb agreed, his smile lingering. "Sadie needs a rifle in her hands, not a silver serving tray. We'll make sure she gets the head of security detail. But Arthur..."
Caleb's tone shifted, becoming more serious, more personal. He looked at the older outlaw with a steady, piercing gaze. "It's a great choice for you as well, Arthur. Since you could change your life into a much more safe place. With a legitimate front like this, and the money flowing from the businesses, you can also finally be at ease. You could get back with Mary Linton."
Arthur flinched slightly at the mention of the name, his eyes dropping to the wooden floorboards of the balcony.
"No more danger," Caleb pressed gently, knowing he had to push Arthur to see the reality of this new world. "No more running from state to state in the mud. At least the national law wouldn't be as crazy as the Pinkertons, and once we're established, the local bounty hunters will know the danger level of our gang. They would think more than twice to hunt us down if we're backed by money and legitimate property. You could give her the life she wanted."
Mary-Beth, who heard that, nodded her head earnestly and gave her full support to Arthur. She stepped forward, her expression filled with profound empathy.
"He's right, Arthur," Mary-Beth said, her voice soft but firm. "You deserve to be happy. I know your past experiences, and I know not all of it is good. We've all lost people. We've all made mistakes. But now, with how things are going, with the future Caleb is building... it is worth fighting for your own happiness. You don't have to be alone, Arthur."
Arthur, hearing that, let out a heavy, weary sigh. He shook his head slowly, looking out at the rushing river, the memories of his past failures with Mary pulling at his conscience.
"I appreciate the words, both of you. I truly do," Arthur said, his voice thick with unresolved emotion. "I will think about it. It's just... complicated. Actually, I received a letter just two days ago. From Mary."
Mary-Beth gasped softly, her romantic heart immediately invested. "A letter again? From Mary?"
"Yeah," Arthur grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Asking to meet me back in Saint Denis. She's asking for some help with her daddy again, I reckon. But... she sounded a bit afraid as well, with the situation over there. She's staying at the Grand Hotel in the city, but she said the streets feel like a warzone."
Arthur turned his sharp, observant eyes back to Caleb. The older enforcer's instincts were kicking in. "And on that point, I wanted to ask you... what actually happened in Saint Denis, Caleb? Mary described many kinds of shooting happening at night, and even in broad daylight. She said the biggest fight was at the city docks. After all, you've been staying down there for the past couple of weeks on and off for us. You must have seen it."
Caleb met Arthur's gaze without a single flinch. His heart rate remained perfectly steady. His max level Acting Skill was an impenetrable fortress, allowing him to weave a narrative that was technically true, yet completely deceptive in its omissions.
"It's bad, Arthur," Caleb responded, shaking his head with a look of grim disapproval. "It's exactly as I warned Hosea it would be. Angelo Bronte and Leviticus Cornwall still haven't stopped their war against each other. It's spilling out into the streets. And there's even news from the northern rail lines that Annesburg, the mining town belonging to Cornwall, has been attacked and burned to the ground by Bronte and his men just a few nights ago."
Hearing that, both Arthur and Mary-Beth were genuinely surprised. Mary-Beth brought a hand to her mouth, shocked by the sheer scale of the destruction.
Arthur's eyes widened. "Annesburg? Burned?" Arthur said, his voice laced with disbelief. "So, since the last time you told me and Hosea about these two titans fighting, not only have they not stopped yet, but they even escalated the fight to which it even caused a whole damn town to be burned? Good Lord. They're going to tear the whole state apart."
Caleb nodded his head, his expression mirroring Arthur's manufactured concern. "Yes, from what I heard, it's exactly like that. It's an absolute bloodbath."
Caleb leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. "I have been working closely with Bronte as a bounty hunter, as you and Hosea knew. I was the one who caused these two to fight at the start, to take the heat off our gang. I set the spark. But..." Caleb let out a perfectly timed, frustrated sigh, "...only on that note. I lit the match, but I don't have the power to delve any further yet. I'm just a hired gun to them. When titans like Bronte and Cornwall decide to go to total war, small timers like me just have to keep our heads down."
While he spoke these words with absolute, convincing sincerity, inwardly, Caleb knew that was a massive, monumental lie. He wasn't a small timer keeping his head down. He was the Underboss of the Italian Mafia.
He was the one who personally orchestrated the burning of Annesburg, leading Bronte's men into a meat grinder of his own design to cripple both factions simultaneously. But no one should know that yet.
At least, they shouldn't know it was him who fanned the flames even harder. The gang needed to believe that their enemies were simply destroying each other out of natural, greedy attrition, leaving Caleb looking like a lucky opportunist rather than a terrifying, manipulative warlord.
Arthur let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Well, let 'em burn each other to ash. As long as it keeps the Pinkertons busy and away from our door, I don't care if Bronte and Cornwall shoot each other to pieces. Just... be careful when you go back down there, Caleb. A stray bullet doesn't care if you're a bounty hunter or a priest."
"I always am, Arthur," Caleb promised with a faint, knowing smile.
After that intense conversation was done, the heavy atmosphere was suddenly broken by the sound of rapid, precise footsteps approaching from the interior of the lodge.
They were joined on the balcony by Herr Strauss. The Austrian accountant looked slightly flustered, holding a stack of telegraph papers in his hand. He adjusted his spectacles, looking from Arthur to Caleb.
"Forgive the interruption, Herr Thorne," Strauss said, nodding politely to Mary-Beth and Arthur before addressing Caleb directly. "But I have run into a significant logistical hurdle regarding the modernization of our fine establishment."
"What's the problem, Leopold?" Caleb asked, turning his full attention to the business at hand.
Strauss sighed, tapping his pen against his ledger. "I have been searching tirelessly for contacts to procure a Pelton Wheel. For the hydroelectric power generation you requested using the river below. But to no avail. The suppliers in West Elizabeth simply do not carry industrial grade turbines of that specification. The local mills use outdated, inefficient waterwheels."
Strauss looked at Caleb with a pleading expression. "So, I would like to ask for your help. When you eventually return to your business in Saint Denis, could you look for a high level industrial contact to buy a Pelton Wheel? And have it sent here to Strawberry via the secure rail lines? We cannot install the electric lighting grid for the hotel without it."
Caleb, hearing that, understood immediately. A Pelton Wheel, an advanced impulse water turbine, was exactly what he needed to harness the rushing white water of the Strawberry river to generate clean, reliable electricity for the massive hotel, bypassing the need for dirty, dangerous coal generators.
Caleb nodded his head firmly. "I understand, Strauss. It's a specialty item. Don't worry, I will search for contacts when I go back to Saint Denis. I have a few lines into the industrial import sector down at the docks. I'll secure the turbine and have it shipped up here on a private freight car."
"Excellent, excellent," Strauss beamed, visibly relieved. "That is a great weight off my mind, Herr Thorne."
Before then, Caleb saw the perfect opportunity to clear the board for the rest of the afternoon. He looked at Arthur, who was still staring out at the river, lost in thought about the letter from Mary Linton.
"Arthur," Caleb said, catching the enforcer's attention. "Why don't you go with Strauss for a bit? He needs to inspect the new lumber shipment down by the main road, and he could use a man with your... persuasive presence to make sure the workers isn't damaging us the quality of the oak we use."
Arthur looked at Caleb, then at Strauss, before a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. He saw exactly what Caleb was doing.
"Right," Arthur said, tipping his hat. "Lumber inspection. Sounds thrilling. Lead the way, Herr Strauss. Let's go intimidate some carpenters."
Strauss blinked, missing the subtext entirely, but nodded eagerly. "Yes, Herr Morgan, your presence would be most beneficial. Right this way."
As Arthur and Strauss walked back into the dusty interior of the hotel, Arthur cast one last glance over his shoulder at Caleb, offering a subtle nod of gratitude and understanding, leaving the young couple alone on the sweeping balcony.
With Arthur gone, Caleb turned back to Mary-Beth. The serious, calculating Underboss vanished entirely, replaced by a warm, attentive partner. He offered her his arm with a charming, exaggerated bow.
"Well, Miss Gaskill," Caleb said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "It seems my schedule has suddenly cleared up. I believe I promised you a small trip for just the two of us."
Mary-Beth giggled, her cheeks flushing beautifully as she took his arm. "You did, Mr. Thorne. And I intend to hold you to it."
So they left the bustling construction site of the hotel behind. They walked down the grand wooden steps and began strolling leisurely around the small, picturesque town of Strawberry.
The contrast between the violent, smoke choked streets of Saint Denis and this pristine mountain village was staggering. Here, the air was crisp and smelled intensely of pine needles and fresh sap.
The sounds of industry were limited to the rhythmic thumping of the local lumber mill and the constant, soothing roar of the river that cut directly through the center of town.
They walked arm in arm across the sturdy wooden bridge, pausing in the center to look down at the rushing white water. Caleb wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his side to ward off the slight chill of the mountain breeze.
"It's like something out of a storybook," Mary-Beth whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "It's so clean. So peaceful. I can see why you chose to build your hotel here, Caleb. It's a place where people can come to forget the ugly parts of the world."
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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 2)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 2)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 4)
- Bow (Lvl 3)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 4)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 3)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl 3)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 50x50x50)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl 2)
- Leadership (Lvl 2)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 250,992 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 70 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 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, & 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern
Bank: -