We had $201. Defeating creepy-haggard-scruffy-beard-man in Five Finger Fillet helped, both monetarily and morally. With this money, we intended to purchase some land for a man who wanted it. However, a shootout in the desert distracted us, and in an effort to kill the bad guy, we shot what apparently was an innocent. This, unfortunately, knocked us down $20 to pay off the witness. We were short some cash. By hunting for local wild beasts we gained enough currency to buy the house after all, and did so happily.But this house... does something to a man. It did something...
To us.
We became territorial; violent, even. Any man or beast to invade our rightful property was shot dead. Luckily this only included beasts, as the area was remote and kind of lame. Still, our madness caught fire when we heard fire of another sort: gunfire. We rushed to the scene and saw, lol and behold, another shootout. Having learned our lesson, we once again opened fire. To continue to trend of only murdering beasts, we took out the man's horse. But the human was a witness.
With lasso in hand, we charged after the fleeing victim, our eyes full of fury and anger. He eluded for a time, but eventually luck ran out for him, and we tied him up. The authorities were on us by this time, and we kidnapped the man in a hurry, stowing him away on our horse. Those foolish lawmen couldn't keep up with our prized stallion that has no name, and we tossed our prisoner into the house with a rough shove. Having nothing better to do, we left him to the wild animals that frequent our property.
Then we used a note of pardon to get off scott free. Smiling to ourselves, we strode off to the marshal's office to do the good work of the law.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Entry #3: The Grand Duel of Poker
One word: poker.
We wanted the Walton Gang Outfit, and a scrap of the costume required us to force an entire table of poker players to leave penniless. We found a couple fellow playing in a saloon and decided to enact our devious plan. The first man didn't last long and soon gave up the game, but the other person-- Noah is his name-- was not so easily cowed.
In fact, he was secretly a poker genius.
Our goal was to get him to bust, but he was tricky, and we lost many a poker chip to his cruel tactics. But we perseviered, forcing ourselves to learn poker like the backs of our hands. We called, raised, and refused to display proper poker faces as he screamed and raved at Noah's cheating face. The sun lowered above the saloon and still we played on; we were losing, but we couldn't quit now. Morning dawned and high noon highed, but the stakes were still large; we were winning. Back and forth we went, neither us nor our opponent willing to leave broke. For an entire day we struggled wit against wit, card against card, and finally-- after brushing both vicory and defeat-- we won. The Grand Duel of Poker was over.
So that was fun. While I was typing this, Bryan followed a Mexican into the desert and harrassed him as a dog followed close behind and barked at him. By tugging the Mexican off his horse with a lasso, he apparently distracted the dog long enough to escape. Kind of petty, if you ask me.
We wanted the Walton Gang Outfit, and a scrap of the costume required us to force an entire table of poker players to leave penniless. We found a couple fellow playing in a saloon and decided to enact our devious plan. The first man didn't last long and soon gave up the game, but the other person-- Noah is his name-- was not so easily cowed.
In fact, he was secretly a poker genius.
Our goal was to get him to bust, but he was tricky, and we lost many a poker chip to his cruel tactics. But we perseviered, forcing ourselves to learn poker like the backs of our hands. We called, raised, and refused to display proper poker faces as he screamed and raved at Noah's cheating face. The sun lowered above the saloon and still we played on; we were losing, but we couldn't quit now. Morning dawned and high noon highed, but the stakes were still large; we were winning. Back and forth we went, neither us nor our opponent willing to leave broke. For an entire day we struggled wit against wit, card against card, and finally-- after brushing both vicory and defeat-- we won. The Grand Duel of Poker was over.
So that was fun. While I was typing this, Bryan followed a Mexican into the desert and harrassed him as a dog followed close behind and barked at him. By tugging the Mexican off his horse with a lasso, he apparently distracted the dog long enough to escape. Kind of petty, if you ask me.
Entry #2: I Will Attack Mr. West Dickens With the North
Mr. West Dickens, a slimy fellow with a portly build, was harrassing us again. He wanted us to do his bidding, and fool innocent bystanders into buying his fake medicines. We, for some reason, agreed. When we got to the destination (Ridgewood Farm), we entered a large house without permissions. I gave us a worthy excuse, however: we don't have any manors, so we went inside the manor. That's pretty funny.
Then we helped with his scheme and encountered a skeptical brute refused to believe our magical, potion-induced aiming skills and told us to shoot his hat. After he threw it in the air, that is. We did this, and, naturally, he believed us and all was well. No, really, he decided to murder us, so we shot the gun from his hand. This was enough to convince the entire crowd, and Mr. West Dickens was a hero. And on top of that, we can now paint multiple targets in deadye mode! Isn't that spiffy?
Lastly, a group of wild bandits charged the town and we defended the citizens in a dramatic and brave fashion. We hogtied the final ruffian, deposited him at the bottom of a remote cliff, cut him free, and shot at his feet as he dashed into the distance. This made us feel powerful and slightly sadistic.
As the in-game sun sets, we turn our sights to a stranger to the north. And as Abraham Lincoln once said, "I will attack you with the north."
Then we helped with his scheme and encountered a skeptical brute refused to believe our magical, potion-induced aiming skills and told us to shoot his hat. After he threw it in the air, that is. We did this, and, naturally, he believed us and all was well. No, really, he decided to murder us, so we shot the gun from his hand. This was enough to convince the entire crowd, and Mr. West Dickens was a hero. And on top of that, we can now paint multiple targets in deadye mode! Isn't that spiffy?
Lastly, a group of wild bandits charged the town and we defended the citizens in a dramatic and brave fashion. We hogtied the final ruffian, deposited him at the bottom of a remote cliff, cut him free, and shot at his feet as he dashed into the distance. This made us feel powerful and slightly sadistic.
As the in-game sun sets, we turn our sights to a stranger to the north. And as Abraham Lincoln once said, "I will attack you with the north."
Entry #1: The Adventure That is Red and Dead
Here we are at the first entry; a very logical place to start! It would be a shame to play this massive game without jotting down some of its highlights. We'll add onto it whenever something of note happens or we just feel like doing so. The idea to create this logbook of sorts dawned on us after several hours of play, so we've already learned how to ride a horse, play poker, and hogtie people we don't agree with. So we're all on the same page here, I'll spend a brief moment catching you up to speed on our adventures thus far. As a note, we will be referring to John Marston's deeds as "we" (that is, "We shot the bandit" or "We shot the other bandit"). It's easier that way. As another note, we will make no effort to avoid spoilers, so you really shouldn't read this unless you've played the game. I'm quite emphatic on this point. If you're compromising the story to read our ridiculous ramblings of revenge and redemption, leave now and never come back. Thanks.
After stepping off the train and getting acquainted to the controls and our surroundings, we went to talk to a bandit. He shot us. But lo, we were rescued by a woman named Bonnie and she allowed us to stay at her family's ranch. We introduced ourselves to the local doctor by tipping our hat and shoving him into the metal shell of a stove. With those pleasantries out of the way, we took to helping out with chores, prompting us to elaborate on a Red Dead Harvest Moon game concept. If this were to catch the interest of Natsume, we would be two happy pandas.
Soon enough we came to a dusty town (as opposed to what?) and did some good deeds for the marshal. We also played a betting game that consisted of stabbing a knife between our fingers as quickly as possible, which resulted in a surplus of money and a loss of blood. A creepy, haggard man with a scruffy beard became our eternal rival during this painful pastime. That, along with plenty of story missions and wilderness trekking, was our first day (real life time, that is).
We tried to stay mostly legal, but fistfights are fun, and the following day we were back to cause trouble. Creepy-haggard-scruffy-beard-man was giving us weird looks, so we raised our fists and he attacked. Although he chased us clear across town, it ended with us tackling him to the ground, tying him up, and taking him into the desert on our horse. As suitable punishment for crossing us, we killed two skunks and left him in between the smelly animals. Speaking of our horse, we tamed a wild stallion during one of the story missions. We would name him, but we enjoy singing "A Horse With No Name" too much to do that.
That was an extremely abridged version of our journey, but I think I hit most of the important parts. We're having barrel of quality fun with Red Dead Redemption so far, though we've scarcely had time to play it. Yet already our vocabulary is morphing into a colloquial blend of country drawls and gruff cowboy cliches. I'm pretty sure that's a good thing.
After stepping off the train and getting acquainted to the controls and our surroundings, we went to talk to a bandit. He shot us. But lo, we were rescued by a woman named Bonnie and she allowed us to stay at her family's ranch. We introduced ourselves to the local doctor by tipping our hat and shoving him into the metal shell of a stove. With those pleasantries out of the way, we took to helping out with chores, prompting us to elaborate on a Red Dead Harvest Moon game concept. If this were to catch the interest of Natsume, we would be two happy pandas.
Soon enough we came to a dusty town (as opposed to what?) and did some good deeds for the marshal. We also played a betting game that consisted of stabbing a knife between our fingers as quickly as possible, which resulted in a surplus of money and a loss of blood. A creepy, haggard man with a scruffy beard became our eternal rival during this painful pastime. That, along with plenty of story missions and wilderness trekking, was our first day (real life time, that is).
We tried to stay mostly legal, but fistfights are fun, and the following day we were back to cause trouble. Creepy-haggard-scruffy-beard-man was giving us weird looks, so we raised our fists and he attacked. Although he chased us clear across town, it ended with us tackling him to the ground, tying him up, and taking him into the desert on our horse. As suitable punishment for crossing us, we killed two skunks and left him in between the smelly animals. Speaking of our horse, we tamed a wild stallion during one of the story missions. We would name him, but we enjoy singing "A Horse With No Name" too much to do that.
That was an extremely abridged version of our journey, but I think I hit most of the important parts. We're having barrel of quality fun with Red Dead Redemption so far, though we've scarcely had time to play it. Yet already our vocabulary is morphing into a colloquial blend of country drawls and gruff cowboy cliches. I'm pretty sure that's a good thing.
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