If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
...
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Tilly, Karen, and Molly all nodded their heads in immediate, solemn agreement. They had survived the life of outlaws for years, they understood the absolute necessity of lying low when the bullets started flying.
Seeing the sheer tension and fear radiating from the girls, Caleb, possessing the max level Leadership and Charisma skills required to manage the psychological morale of his crew, decided to inject a small sliver of lightness into the grim carriage ride.
He looked over at Tilly, a playful, knowing smirk crossing his face as he remembered the young woman's recent romantic developments.
"However," Caleb added, his tone lightening significantly, "just because you are confined to the estate does not mean you have to be miserable. Tilly, if you wanted to meet your new sweetheart, Pierre the lawyer... you don't have to cancel your dates."
Tilly's eyes widened, completely caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation.
"Just have the man come to the mansion," Caleb offered smoothly. "I'll leave his name with Antonio at the front gate. As long as he doesn't mind having his briefcase searched by heavily armed Italian mobsters, he is more than welcome to take tea with you in the gardens."
Tilly blushed furiously, her dark cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson as Karen and Molly let out small, relieved giggles, the unbearable tension in the cabin finally breaking. Tilly nodded her head at that, a shy, incredibly grateful smile touching her lips. "Thank you, Caleb. I... I might just do that."
"Good," Caleb smiled warmly.
Before long, the heavy carriage finally arrived back at the fortified, sprawling grounds of the Garden District mansion. The wrought iron gates swung open, and the carriage pulled up to the grand front steps.
The capos immediately fanned out, securing the perimeter with military precision. The girls got off first, their beautiful dresses rustling in the cold wind, and quickly entered into the warmth and absolute safety of the mansion, escorted by Silvio. Mary-Beth cast one last, lingering look back at Caleb, silently urging him to be careful, before the heavy oak doors closed behind her.
Caleb did not go inside immediately. The adrenaline of the shootout had faded, leaving behind the cold, calculating reality of the war he had to plan. He stood outside on the marble porch, the freezing wind whipping at his ruined suit.
He reached into his breast pocket, bypassing the blood stained silk handkerchief, and pulled out a silver case.
He lit up a premium, imported cigarette, the flare of the match illuminating his sharp, handsome features in the fading evening light. He took a long, deep drag, the harsh smoke filling his lungs and grounding him.
Arthur Morgan, having dismounted his massive warhorse, walked up the steps and joined him on the porch. Caleb silently offered the silver case. Arthur took one, lighting it with his own match, and the two brothers stood side by side in the quiet evening, the only sound the distant, muted noise of the city and the crunch of the capos' boots on the gravel.
They stood there for a long time. After several heavy, contemplative puffs of their cigarettes, Arthur finally broke the silence. But it wasn't about the Grays, and it wasn't about the impending war.
Arthur leaned against the marble pillar, his green eyes staring out into the darkness, his expression tight with a deeply personal, incredibly conflicted agony.
"Caleb," Arthur began, his voice rough and low, carrying a weight that had absolutely nothing to do with the mafia. "I... I got a letter today."
Caleb exhaled a plume of grey smoke, turning his head to look at his brother. "A letter? From who?"
Arthur hesitated for a fraction of a second, his jaw clenching. "From Mary. Mary Linton. I got a letter from her again."
Hearing that name, Caleb turned to look at him, his blue eyes widening in genuine, profound surprise.
Caleb's hype -intelligent mind, armed with the absolute meta knowledge of the original Red Dead Redemption 2 timeline, rapidly began to calculate the variables. He didn't expect that it would be now that Arthur received another letter from Mary.
In the original flow of the timeline, Arthur had received Mary's second plea for help much earlier, during their time hiding out at Shady Belle, before the disastrous Saint Denis bank robbery and the nightmare of Guarma.
Caleb had honestly thought it had already happened behind the scenes, or that his massive, world altering interventions had simply butterfly effected the event out of existence. He didn't know how deeply the timeline had completely changed.
The fact that the narrative thread of Mary Linton was surfacing now, right on the precipice of the year 1900, while they were billionaire crime lords preparing for a localized war against Rhodes, was a staggering anomaly.
Caleb masked his internal shock perfectly, keeping his expression neutral as he took another drag of his cigarette.
"Mary Linton," Caleb repeated softly, knowing exactly how deeply this woman held Arthur's heart in a vice grip. He turned fully toward his brother, asking the crucial question. "What did she need help with this time, Arthur?"
Arthur ran a massive, calloused hand over his face, looking exhausted by the mere mention of her name. The fierce, untouchable enforcer of the Thorne empire suddenly looked like a tired, heartbroken man.
"She says she needs help," Arthur muttered, staring down at the glowing cherry of his cigarette. "She wrote that she and her family have found themselves in another absolute mess. It's her father again, I'd bet my last dollar on it. The old drunk probably gambled away whatever money they had left and got in deep with the wrong people."
Arthur looked up, his eyes meeting Caleb's. "She asked me to meet her. Here, in the city. At the Hotel Grand in Saint Denis."
The Hotel Grand. A luxurious, sprawling establishment right in the heart of the city that Caleb currently had locked down under absolute mafia control.
Caleb stood perfectly still, the smoke curling around his face. He knew the original storyline. He knew that this mission traditionally involved Arthur helping Mary's father, confronting Ashton, and ultimately being offered a chance to run away with Mary, a chance Arthur would tragically refuse out of misplaced loyalty to a dying gang.
But this wasn't a dying gang anymore. This was a billionaire empire. Arthur had big wealth, absolute security, and a future that stretched out endlessly before him. The variables were completely, entirely different.
"I see," Caleb said slowly, his mind racing as he evaluated the tactical and emotional implications. He looked at Arthur, studying the deep conflict in his brother's eyes. Caleb asked him the only question that mattered. "So... what are you going to do, Arthur?"
Arthur stood there on the porch, the freezing wind howling around them. The man who had just stood ready to slaughter an entire town of plantation owners looked completely paralyzed by a simple piece of paper. He took one final, heavy drag of his cigarette, flicking the butt out into the pristine white gravel of the driveway.
Arthur looked at Caleb, his jaw setting with a grim, tragic determination that had defined his entire life.
"I don't know if it's a trap, and I don't know if she's just going to break my heart again," Arthur said, his voice heavy with a profound, enduring resignation. He adjusted his tailored tuxedo jacket, the gold inlaid M1911 heavy in his shoulder holster. "But... I'm a fool, Caleb. I've always been a fool for her."
Arthur turned to look out toward the glittering, gas lit skyline of Saint Denis.
"I'm going to go," Arthur stated quietly, stepping off the porch. "I'm going to go to the Hotel Grand, and I'm going to see exactly what she needs help with."
Hearing Arthur's heartbreaking, exhausted confession, Caleb did not offer pity. Pity was entirely useless to a man like Arthur. Instead, Caleb offered him the absolute, unshakeable foundation of their new reality.
Caleb nodded his head slowly, the glowing cherry of his cigarette burning brightly in the freezing winter air. He looked at his brother, his sharp blue eyes filled with a profound, highly calculating empathy. He reached out and rested a heavy, reassuring hand on the enforcer's broad shoulder.
"Then you go to her, Arthur," Caleb said to him, his voice a low, steady rumble of absolute encouragement. "You go to the Hotel Grand, and you help Mary with whatever disaster her father has dragged them into this time. But you listen to me, and you listen to me very carefully. You do not walk into that lobby as a desperate, dying outlaw begging for scraps of affection."
Arthur looked up, his green eyes searching Caleb's face.
Caleb activated his max level Persuasion Skill, pouring every ounce of his charismatic authority into the words, desperate to rewrite the tragic narrative that had plagued his brother for two decades.
"Maybe now, Arthur, you can finally convince her that absolutely everything has changed," Caleb explained, mapping out the undeniable facts of their new empire. "You need to make her understand that it isn't like it was in the past anymore. You are not sleeping in the mud. You are not robbing stagecoaches for pennies. You have a highly lucrative, entirely stable executive job. You possess a level of wealth that her family couldn't even dream of."
Caleb gestured toward the massive, sprawling Garden District mansion behind them, the warm light spilling from the crystal chandeliers through the glass windows.
"You are safe," Caleb continued, his tone fierce and unwavering. "You don't run around moving from place to place in the dead of night anymore. You have a permanent home. A fortress. And lastly, and most importantly... your federal bounty is currently in the active progress of being completely cleared out. The highest politicians in Washington are currently wiping your slate clean. You are going to be a free, wealthy man."
Arthur stared at the mansion, then back to Caleb, the heavy, suffocating weight of his past slowly beginning to fracture under the sheer logic of Caleb's words.
"So she can rest easy and be assured now," Caleb smiled softly, analyzing the psychology of the woman waiting in the hotel. "Arthur, her sending all of these letters... it isn't just about needing a gun to solve her problems. It still shows that she holds those exact same, deep seated feelings for you. It's the reason why you still return to her, no matter how much it hurts, whenever she sends a letter. You love her, and she loves you. The only thing that ever stood between you two was the outlaw life. And I have officially killed the outlaw life. Go claim your future."
Hearing that profound, irrefutable assessment of his life, a new, unfamiliar light began to burn in Arthur Morgan's eyes. The grim resignation was replaced by a spark of genuine, terrifying hope.
Arthur nodded his head slowly, fully absorbing the magnitude of the truth. He took one last, heavy puff of his premium cigarette, the smoke curling around his scarred face, before he dropped it onto the white gravel and firmly put out his cigarette beneath the heel of his polished leather boot.
Arthur adjusted his tuxedo jacket, looking at Caleb with a newfound sense of purpose. Before turning to his horse, he asked his Don for formal permission.
"I'll take leave for the day, Caleb," Arthur said, his voice regaining its usual deep, steady rumble. "If that's okay with you. I know we got the Grays breathing down our necks, and the city is on lockdown..."
Caleb didn't even let him finish the sentence. He nodded his head emphatically.
"Of course it's okay, Arthur," Caleb said instantly, waving off the concern. "It is more than okay. The mafia can survive without its chief enforcer for a single afternoon. Just go to her. Enjoy your time with her, and convince her that the ghost she is afraid of is dead."
Caleb stepped back, a dark, deeply amused smirk crossing his handsome face as he offered the ultimate trump card.
"Hell, Arthur," Caleb chuckled warmly. "If you want to, and if she needs absolute proof... you can bring her right back here to the estate. Bring her through the front gates and introduce her to the legitimate side of the corporate business that I currently have under my control. Let her see the mansion. Let her see the factory ledgers. Let her see that Arthur Morgan is a king in this city."
Arthur let out a low, genuine laugh, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of bringing the high society Mary Linton into a mafia stronghold. But the idea brought a genuine smile to his face.
Arthur nodded his head at that, incredibly grateful for the unwavering support. He reached out, gripping Caleb's hand in a firm, brotherly shake. "Thank you, Caleb. For everything."
"Go get her, brother," Caleb replied.
With that, Arthur turned on his heel. He didn't bother changing out of his sharp black tuxedo. He simply walked over to his massive warhorse, pulled himself up into the saddle, and spurred the beast forward, riding out through the wrought iron gates toward the heart of Saint Denis to finally face the woman he loved.
...
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 MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 2,772 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 283,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 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, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -