Session 11 Rumors
Rumors and Tales from the Rusty Boot Tavern.
Vigilantes ride to Kline Ranch
“Word’s driftin’ ‘round the Rusty Boot that the Blood Ax Justice Board’s ridden out toward the Kline Ranch, south-east of town. Folks say they aim to intercept Jude Austin, Billy Spenser, and Oakley Tate before they can testify. See, Nolan Hardin stands accused of killin’ Marvin Gilliam—man was found with Nolan’s own knife stuck in his throat. But them three cowboys swore up and down that Nolan never even stepped foot in Blood Ax the night Marvin died.
Now, some reckon the Justice Board means to scare the boys off the stand. Others whisper they’re fixin’ to haul ‘em back in chains—or ride darker still, and leave the prairie dotted with fresh graves. Nobody seems to know for certain, ‘cept that the Kline Ranch may be ridin’ into trouble before the law ever lays down a verdict.”
Ethan Davidson missing
“Some say the Cowboys ain’t through with this trial business yet. Word is Ethan Davidson walked free from the jail this mornin’, but come tomorrow’s sunrise he might not be so lucky. The Cowboys are fixin’ to pay him a ‘visit’—you know the kind. Seems Ethan’s been flappin’ his gums that he saw Nolan Hardin jawin’ heated with Marvin Gilliam the very night Marvin was found in that alley, Nolan’s knife still stickin’ in his neck.
Now, whether the Cowboys mean to scare him quiet, drag him off where the Judge can’t find him, or shut him up permanent—that’s the dust no one’s settled. But folks reckon Ethan’ll be faced with a choice soon enough: keep his mouth shut, or never get the chance to open it again.”
Marvin Galliam found dead
Marvin Gilliam was found dead in a dark alley—his life ended abruptly and violently with Nolan Hardin’s own knife driven deep into his throat. The wound was savage, precise, and unmistakable, leaving little doubt about the weapon used. To the townsfolk of Blood Ax, it seemed plain and simple: Nolan Hardin was the killer. The bloodstains, the knife in his neck, and their bitter history sealed the story as an open-and-shut case.
Marvin Gilliam was a driftin’ ranch hand, never tied down to one place for long, working wherever a hand was needed across the local spread of ranches. Folks knew him as a restless sort with eyes always searching for more than just paycheck—he was chasing whispers of treasure and big scores, hoping one day to land a haul that’d set him up for good.
He spoke openly, or at least as openly as a man with secrets, about courting Evelyn Rivera—the quiet woman who worked at Mardek’s Livery. Though Marvin claimed they were close, most townsfolk couldn’t say they ever saw more than a few polite words exchanged at the stable. Evelyn kept to herself mostly, and those in town guessed the pickin’s were slimmer than Marvin let on.
What wasn’t a secret, though, was Nolan Hardin’s interest in Evelyn. Marvin wasn’t the type to back down from a rival—he didn’t take kindly to Nolan’s attentions, and rumor says that simmering jealousy may have stoked more than just idle threats.
When Marvin was found dead in that dark alley, throat pierced by Nolan’s own knife, many saw it as the bitter end of a rivalry gone violent. But behind the obvious lies the tangled lives and whispered motives of men chasing more than just love or gold.
The strange village of Ulthar
“Now listen here, stranger, if ever you find yourself drifting up the river towards Ulthar, mind what I’m about to tell you. Ulthar’s a peculiar little village, more superstitious than most; they got laws you won’t find anywhere else along these waters. Chief among ’em is their rule about cats—killing or harming a cat in Ulthar is strictly forbidden. They don’t care if it’s by accident or on purpose, the word is out that hurting one of those critters brings ill luck, curses, or worse.
The folks say these cats aren’t just simple mouser-types but some sort of guardians or spirits in fur, keeping darker things at bay. I heard old timers say it dates way back, before Ulthar was more than a speck on the map, when strange horrors prowled the nights and only cats dared stand against ’em. So folks there treat those animals with respect and fear. You best watch your step when you’re passing through—upsetting a cat can turn a town’s welcome colder than a winter on the river.”
Haunted Ruins of Nightspinner Spire
“You best keep your distance from the Nightspinner Spire if you value good sense—or your life. That tall, dark tower rises jagged and broken at the river’s edge near the Sable, but no one camps near it, and no captain worth his salt plans a trip downriver after dark by it. They say it’s cursed or worse, a place where the shadows hold sway.
Dark stories slither through the river towns about the river pirates who tried to get close, to explore or plunder the Spire. None of those fools ever made it back. The screams—awful, blood-curdling screams—sent the surviving hands scrambling to shove off, pushing their boats into the river without so much as waiting for their mates. They say even the water runs cold around that monstrous ruin.
So, if you’re smart, you’ll pass the Nightspinner Spire by daylight, keep your crew tight, and say little to none about what you saw there.”
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