This is going to be a meaty one. Since my wingman, Stephen, has fallen with yet another affliction (this time being tired or something like that) it falls on me to relate what's happened over this past hour. (Throughout all of which I was playing once more.) First off, we left the town to find the irishman and get our revenge. Marston was understandably angry at the drunk, an indignation we largely shared. But he promised to make it up to us by leading us to the machine gun's whereabouts: deep within a mine. Exciting. When we approached the mine our slippery friend once more decided to stay out of the firefight (something he opted to do earlier when leaving us to rot) and instead find a cart to transport the thing with. We agreed, though reluctantly, and marched towards the guards. The game apparently decided we hadn't learned how to use multi-targeting with Dead Eye yet (something we'd been relying on like crazy ever since it first became available) and thought this would be a good training session for it. After taking out the duo a large firefight ensued with the nearby miners. The irishman (named Irish. Novel.) had better have been right about this, as we were killing miners left and right to gain access to their workplace. Once inside, we switched to our trusty shotgun and sauntered through the twisting caverns, blowing away any opposition with style. (Which often included TNT; that's what I mean by stylish.) The best part arrived when we came upon a mine cart and got to ride it out which concluded with a spectacular move of firing from the back of the cart and hitting a TNT barrel in our path, killing the crony nearby along with it.
Our task was complete, and we were all the better for it, as a machine gun was now in our possession. It really struck us how much variety Read Dead keeps heaping on. Every mission brings something new and entertaining to the table, and the events in between are even better. Checking our map I noticed the funny man, Jimmy Saints, was nearby. W found the spot, but the map seemed to be telling us he was *beneath* us. This was very curious indeed. For the sake of exploration we jumped (or fell) into the open mineshaft nearby and found out the hard way that that wasn't the greatest idea. Though it struck us both how excellent the falling animation looked, as Marston went bouncing down the shaft, ricocheting off beams in his descent. Stephen even thought it was a canned animation leading us into a cutscene.
Stephen was really getting tired at this point, so we decided to head back to the house. We couldn't go to sleep right away, though. Oh no, things required some doing. The property had to be kept clear, and we had some hunting to catch up with. These two things combined quite admirably when we found a pelt-collector camped nearby who gave us some bait to catch a few deer. Bait was something we'd forgotten about using in the past, and we soon find it was an excellent way to attract wildlife and fill 'em with lead. (Well, that latter part would also require a gun. Otherwise bait would be nifty indeed.) Continuing our rounds, we came upon a few lawman camped about a crackling fire. Curious to test our previous theories, we leapt upon one of their horses and began to ride off. They responded with sudden anger, one of them going so far as to grab our own horse and ride after us. At this we began to panic, not wanting to lose our prize stallion, and lassoed the man off, taking back what was rightfully ours. The one who seemed to be the leader of the lot had his gun out at this point and was firing at us. We decided to give peace a shot this time and drop down from our horse, holstering our gun and waiting for the hostilities to cease. This was not the case, as the man instead started to fill us with lead, and we had no choice but to bribe him, losing a good sum of honor in the process.
And so we continued on our way, searching for any other troublemakers gazing about our property. We found some people, but they seemed innocent enough. A couple simple travellers camped about a fire. We discovered for the first time that we could sit at the fire with them and listen to a yarn or two. The one they told was a familiar tale, though, as it was ours. After sitting for a spell we continued on our way, though not before shooting at a cactus for a reason I can't recall and accidentally sending the fine folk fleeing in panic. At this point it was getting late, and the moon was high in the sky, so we rode back towards the old house, ready to call it a night. But things were not well. A man was sneaking about our property all suspicious like, and I tell you, this would not do! We gave chase, soon catching up with the offender and roping him in, the vermin. He struggled for a bit, even got his gun out, but to no avail. We soon had him tied up and at our mercy. It was then we had an idea: bait! We dropped the man in front of our house and sprinkled some of our bottled bait on top of him, after which we scurried away and threw ourselves atop the roof, rifle in hand and eyes trained towards the helpless victim.
We waited. And soon they came. Foxes, by the look of them. We opened fire and took one or two out. Success! After spreading some more bait we returned to the roof top, opening fire once more upon the arriving foxes and taking some down. Stephen then had an idea: why not leave him to the animals rather than scaring them off with our gunfire? It's more than he deserved. We took a liking to this plan and used the last of our bait, retreating into our house this time and closing the door behind us. We heard them coming again and strained to get a look out the window. We didn't want to scare them off, however, so we retreated to the back of the house. We decided it would be a good time to change clothes, while we were waiting, and got back into the duster coat. (We'd changed out of it a little while back.) When we finished and opened the door them an was gone, a pile of blood (or bait) being the only sign of his past presence. It was finished.
We had one shell left in my shotgun at this point and wanted something to shoot with it before heading for bed, so we set off for one last look at the property. We didn't find much beyond a rabbit, and Stephen convinced me not to shoot it, but rather to just kick it around for awhile, which I did. After a bit more searching I at last did find something: (Stephen was practically asleep at this point) a man. A man asking me how good of a shot I was. Well, I'd show him how good...
Without hesitation I blasted the man in the legs and rode off, knowing he was still alive by the bullets zipping past me as I made my retreat. It was the perfect ending to the perfect night when... he followed me. I was inside the house at this point, hearing bullets zip around the rotting wood. I decided to confront the pursuer and saw him limping through the hills towards me. I whipped out my rifle and shot his gun right of his hands, following this up with a quick whip of the lasso, using this to tie him up and let him roll down the hill and into some brush. This was truly the perfect end to a perfect evening, and I slept soundly that night.
When dawn broke I could see a storm was brewing in the distance. A nasty one at that. Animals would be seeking shelter from it, and I had to make sure they wouldn't find any. I downed many bird and beast before realizing a good solution to my problem. Break the windows. Then they couldn't find shelter within and would move on. I spent many an hour charging about our property and even found some wolves at our doorstep. As Stephen pointed out, they would've already been inside if not for the broken windows. Ha ho. Things were at their lowest, however, when, having nothing to do, I realized I needed to make use of our wonderful house and do something in it. So I stood on top of our bed and repeatedly whistled. It was quite a way to pass the time, but, after some complaints from Stephen, (claiming it was disturbing his rest or something) Idecided it was high time to get into town; replenish my ammo and the like. So I called for my horse (amazingly he wasn't numb to whistling at this point) and rode away. Along the way I took out a deer, garnering a new level of the hunting challenge (earlier I killed enough coyotes to get a new level of the marksmanship level) and, with Stephen heading for bed, figured it was time to call it in. Against all odds I got a fire started and saved the game, and boy am I ready to start again tomorrow. This game is awesome.
No comments:
Post a Comment