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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The money was moving. The federal government was being bought. Arthur was chasing the love of his life, and the vanguard was riding south to scout the foolish, arrogant Gray family. The board was perfectly set, the pieces were in motion, and now, Caleb was simply waiting for the inevitable, absolute bloodshed that was about to rain down upon anyone who dared to stand in his way.
After that decisive, heavy-handed financial maneuver was officially dispatched to the corrupt heart of the nation's capital, Caleb did not simply sit back and wait for Washington to process his bribes.
The federal bounties were being erased, but a much more immediate, visceral threat was sitting right on their doorstep.
The days passed in a relentless, highly structured blur of a large scale combat preparation.
The sprawling private study on the second floor of the Garden District mansion was completely transformed from a luxurious reading room into an absolute, dedicated war room.
The heavy mahogany desk was cleared of its usual ledgers and crystal decanters, replaced entirely by massive, detailed topographical maps of Lemoyne, specifically focusing on the dusty, red dirt county of Rhodes and the sprawling, heavily guarded tobacco fields of the Gray family estate.
Caleb spent his days coordinating tirelessly with Antonio and Hosea to prepare for the massive, highly punitive excursion that they would soon execute in the west.
Hosea, utilizing his decades of experience in outlaw logistics and tactical misdirection, stood over the maps with a silver compass and a piece of charcoal. Antonio, ever the master of resources, managed the flow of information and the quiet, steady mobilization of the Italian mafia's absolute best killers.
"We do not strike blindly," Caleb instructed, his max-level Tactical and Leadership skills dictating the entire flow of the operation. He leaned over the map, tracing a leather gloved finger along the dirt roads leading into Rhodes. "We hold our fire until John and Javier, alongside their hand picked men, return from their scouting expedition. We need to know exactly how many men the Grays have put on their payroll since the Braithwaites were wiped out. I want to know their guard rotations, the blind spots in their fields, and the exact location of Tavish and Leigh Gray's sleeping quarters."
Hosea nodded, making a sharp charcoal mark on the map. "John sent a preliminary telegraph this morning. They have successfully infiltrated the local saloons. The Grays are arrogant, Caleb. They are hiring ex Confederate muscle and local thugs, parading around like they own the sun. But they are disorganized."
"Disorganization is a fatal flaw when facing a disciplined army," Caleb murmured, standing up straight. "Antonio. Let us finalize the logistics. When the vanguard returns to give us the green light, we need to be ready to move within the hour."
They spent hours meticulously preparing the strike force. They calculated the exact amount of men needed to simultaneously lock down the Rhodes sheriff's office and breach the Caliga Hall plantation without allowing a single Gray family member to escape. Caleb decided on a force of sixty elite, battle hardened capos.
Then came the hardware. Caleb was not going to send his men into a gunfight with standard revolvers and old repeaters.
He explicitly ordered that the strike team would exclusively use the revolutionary weapons fresh from his newly constructed factory. To ensure they had the absolute, overwhelming upper hand, the capos were outfitted with the new Thorne-Marlin Arsenal.
"Every man in the assault team gets a Vanguard bolt action rifle and a Model 1 semi automatic handgun," Caleb dictated, his voice cold and uncompromising. "And I want ten of our biggest, most resilient men carrying the Sweeper submachine guns. If the Grays try to barricade themselves inside the plantation house, those Sweepers will turn the wooden walls into sawdust in thirty seconds."
"And the ammunition, Don McLaughlin?" Antonio asked, his pen flying across his notepad.
"Only the highest quality," Caleb replied. "No cheap cast lead. Issue the high velocity spitzer rounds for the rifles, and the specialized, jacketed hollow points for the handguns and the Sweepers. I want maximum kinetic transfer. When a Gray family thug gets hit, I want him staying on the ground."
Time passed by in this state of hyper focused, lethal preparation. The mansion hummed with the quiet, terrifying energy of a coiled spring ready to snap.
It was a few days later, just as the winter sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and cast long, creeping shadows across the pristine lawns of the estate, that the heavy front doors of the mansion opened.
Arthur Morgan had finally returned back to the mansion in the evening.
The massive enforcer stepped into the grand foyer, removing his bowler hat. He didn't look like a man who had just spent the afternoon securing extortion rackets or intimidating corrupt politicians. In fact, the most feared, ruthless enforcer in Saint Denis looked entirely, completely flustered.
Arthur let out a long, heavy exhale, reaching up with a massive hand to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. He looked around the opulent foyer, his usually stern, heavily scarred face betraying a mixture of profound relief, lingering anxiety, and a highly uncharacteristic, boyish bashfulness.
Caleb, who had just stepped out of his study on the second floor, saw all of it as he walked down the sweeping marble stairs.
He paused on the landing, leaning his arm against the polished mahogany banister, a warm, highly amused, and deeply knowing smile spreading across his face.
"Well," Caleb called out, his rich baritone voice echoing in the quiet foyer. "You don't look like a man who just got rejected. In fact, you look like a man who just survived a hurricane and realized he was still standing."
Arthur, who heard Caleb's voice, immediately looked up at the staircase. The tension in his broad shoulders melted away, and a slow, incredibly genuine, and remarkably bright smile broke across his weathered face. It was a smile that Caleb hadn't seen on Arthur's face in a very, very long time.
Caleb finished his descent, walking across the marble floor to stand before his brother. He asked Arthur, his tone filled with genuine, supportive curiosity, exactly how his highly anticipated meeting with Mary Linton had gone.
"It goes well," Arthur replied, his voice a deep, slightly breathless rumble. He let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle, looking down at his hat for a moment before looking back at Caleb. "Actually... it went better than well. I didn't shoot anybody, and she didn't slap me."
"A resounding success, then," Caleb grinned, gesturing toward the drawing room. "Come in. Sit down. Tell me what happened. You owe me the details after leaving Vincenzo and me to plan a war by ourselves."
Arthur followed Caleb into the warm, fire lit drawing room, sinking heavily into one of the plush leather armchairs. He tossed his hat onto a side table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"She asked for my help, just like she wrote in the letter," Arthur began, his expression sobering slightly as he recounted the familial disaster Mary was trapped in. "It was exactly what I figured. It was her father. The old fool is completely out of control. He gambled away whatever meager savings they had left in some cheap, back alley poker game. And to cover his debts, he went and used a precious, heirloom brooch that belonged to Mary's late mother. He took it and pawned it off to some shady fence in the slums."
Arthur's jaw clenched at the memory of the sheer, pathetic desperation of Mr. Gillis.
"I went after the man," Arthur continued, his eyes darkening slightly with the ingrained instincts of an enforcer. "I tracked her father down, grabbed him by the collar, and found out exactly which fence he sold it to. I didn't have to hurt anyone, Caleb. I just walked into the pawnshop, showed the man the gold inlaid M1911 you gave me, and politely asked for the brooch back. The man practically threw it at me and refused to take a single dime."
Caleb chuckled, pouring two small glasses of premium bourbon and handing one to Arthur. "The reputation of our new hardware precedes us. A wise pawnbroker."
"Yeah," Arthur smiled, taking a sip of the burning liquid. "Anyway, I took the brooch back and returned it directly to Mary. She was... she was in tears, Caleb. She couldn't believe I actually did it, and that I didn't cause a bloodbath in the process."
Arthur leaned back in his chair, the sheer, profound relief of the afternoon washing over him. The mission had been simple, but the aftermath had been everything he had ever dreamed of.
"After that, we didn't just say goodbye," Arthur said, his voice softening, a deeply romantic, nostalgic tone entering his words. "We went to have a walk in the street. Just a normal, quiet walk down the avenues. No looking over my shoulder for Pinkertons. No worrying about rival gangs taking a shot at me. We just walked."
Arthur looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid. "Before then, we actually went to watch some show together at the grand theater. It was some ridiculous play, but I didn't care. We were sitting there, sharing some quiet moments, and..."
Arthur paused, taking a deep breath, his green eyes locking onto Caleb's. "We talked about the future, Caleb. The real future. Not some desperate fantasy about running away to Tahiti or hiding in the mountains."
Caleb leaned forward, giving his brother his absolute, undivided attention. "What did you tell her, Arthur?"
"I told her the truth," Arthur stated firmly, a fierce, unbreakable pride in his voice. He felt they had finally found a profound, genuine understanding with each other. "I told her exactly what you told me to say. I looked her in the eyes, and I told her that I have officially left the outlaw life completely behind. I told her that I am not a wanted man sleeping in the mud, and that I am not being actively hunted around the country like an animal anymore."
Arthur smiled, a bright, deeply relieved expression. "You should have seen her face, Caleb. Especially when she heard that I actually have a stable job now. But, of course, I didn't lie to her to make myself look like an angel. I truthfully told her that I still have some form of danger in my new line of work. I told her I am an executive for a massive, powerful syndicate. I told her it is highly lucrative, and that it is legal on paper, but that men still bleed."
"Honesty is always the best foundation," Caleb nodded in deep approval. "How did she react to the danger?"
"She accepted it," Arthur said, sheer disbelief in his own voice. "Because it's organized. It's not chaos. And the absolute deciding factor... the thing that completely broke the wall between us... was when I told her that my federal bounty, the Blackwater charges, all of it, are actively in the process of being permanently erased by the government."
Arthur let out a breath he felt he had been holding for twenty years. "Which caused her to have the biggest, most beautiful smile on her face when she heard that. She realized I wasn't a ghost anymore. I was a man who could actually walk down the street in the daylight."
Arthur finished his bourbon, setting the crystal glass down on the table.
"We decided that we need to talk about it more tomorrow," Arthur concluded, looking at Caleb for final confirmation. "She said she will come here. To the mansion. She wants to see where I live, and she wants to see this new life for herself."
Caleb, hearing that phenomenal, life altering breakthrough, nodded his head emphatically. A wide, incredibly genuine smile spread across his face.
"That is spectacularly great to hear, Arthur," Caleb said, his voice ringing with absolute, brotherly pride. "It is more than okay for her to come, just as I have said before. The gates will be wide open for her. I truly, deeply hope this signifies the absolute new start in life that you deserve. You fought for it, and you've earned it."
Hearing that unwavering support and validation from the man who had essentially rebuilt the world for him, Arthur nodded his head. He looked at Caleb, his eyes shining with an unspoken, bottomless gratitude.
"Thank you, Caleb," Arthur said simply, the two words carrying the weight of a saved soul.
Caleb waved off the thanks, shifting the conversation back to the grim realities that allowed them to have these peaceful moments.
"Enjoy tomorrow, Arthur," Caleb said, his tone turning serious, but not unkind. "Show her the gardens. Let Antonio serve her the finest tea in the city. Because you will need a clear head. We will begin the deployment to go to the Grays in several days, exactly after the information has been gathered enough by John and Javier. When the vanguard returns, we ride south, and we burn Tavish and Leigh Gray out of their plantation."
Arthur nodded his head firmly, the romantic completely vanishing, replaced instantly by the lethal, loyal enforcer. "I'll be ready. My guns are clean, and my mind is clear. Just say the word."
Arthur stood up from the armchair, ready to head up to his luxurious suite to get some rest. But before he reached the drawing room doors, he paused. He turned back to Caleb, a sudden, highly amused thought striking him.
"Before I forget," Arthur suddenly said, hooking his thumbs into his gun belt. "I remembered that as I was riding back through the city limits, I just saw Mrs. Adler returning back to town."
Arthur shook his head, a wry, deeply impressed grin on his face. "She was dragging two men tied back to back over the back of her horse, covered in mud, marching them straight into the police precinct to collect the reward. She truly fits to be a bounty hunter, huh?"
Caleb threw his head back and let out a loud, genuine laugh at that mental image.
"She has an absolute knack for it, that woman," Caleb agreed, a fierce pride in the widow turned warrior in his voice. "I don't know exactly how she does it with such terrifying consistency, but right now, her legend around here is growing at an incredible rate. If she keeps hauling in bounties like this, her reputation will rival mine when I was known as the best bounty hunter in the state in the past."
Caleb winked, tapping his chest playfully. "Of course, in terms of raw skills, max level combat intellect, and sheer lethality, everyone in this city knows exactly who is a much, much better fighter. But she is an absolute terror to the local outlaws, and I couldn't be prouder of her."
Arthur chuckled, tipping his imaginary hat to the Don's ego. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that. She might just challenge you to a duel to prove you wrong."
"I welcome the challenge," Caleb smirked. After that lighthearted banter, the conversation naturally ended. Arthur took his leave, walking up the sweeping staircase to his private quarters to prepare for the most important date of his entire life, leaving Caleb alone in the drawing room to finalize his war plans.
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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 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: -