This past summer saw the publication of Piquet Inc.'s "Wild West Skirmish Combat" rules, "Pkowboys" by Jeff Grossman. I received my copy of the rules just before heading west on a business trip to Kansas and Missouri. After taking an evening to read them, I was very impressed. They are 28 pages and include two sets of tables, rosters, plus all the cards required to play the game. Pkowboys is Piquet Inc.'s first skirmish combat set using the basic ideas from the Piquet Master Rules (with a few twists like "Black Jack"). The game covers skirmish combat between rival gangs in the American West from just before the Civil War till the turn of the century.

After reading the rules, I was driving between Wichita and Kansas City, MO, past places like Emporia, Cottonwood Falls, and Coffey County. My mind started racing and thinking about a Wild West campaign. I wanted to use Pkowboys for the combat system, but I also wanted a great campaign background. With all the traveling that I'm doing, I knew that I wasn't going to be able to run the campaign using the standard face-to-face method. Therefore, I decide to do a Historical Narrative Campaign using the old American West as my background, with ideas from TSR Inc.'s 1979 Boot Hill Role Playing Game and other sources. I chose a narrative style campaign because I wanted it to pretty much run itself with skirmishes taking place on the tabletop using Pkowboys. Therefore, for my campaign reports to The Herald, I will use a narrative writing style for the background information and a series replay style for the skirmish combat. So, let's get started!

Chapter 1: Meeting In Deadwood

It's March in Deadwood, and the year is 1876. The town's population has grown to just short of 30,000 people. Miners have flooded the area, laying claim to just about every square inch of land in the entire area. This boomtown is blooming like no other town in the world.

Right now, though, people have settled in for the long, hard winter that has just about passed. Spring is coming, and it isn't going to be a lot better. Shacks have gone up where tents once stood. Firewood and coal have become precious commodities. There isn't a man in town that knows how to wield a hammer that hasn't been spending his every waking moment putting up some kind of building or another.

Milo Karseboom has been doing double time as both assayer and claims officer for the last six months or so. He's got enough papers in his office to sink a small ship, but it's time for the papers to be filed in a proper state capitol, where they will be safe, instead of rotting in this boom town where life is all too cheap.

At the request of the Miner's Association of Deadwood, Milo has agreed to hire "a few good men" to guard the papers on their way from Deadwood to Omaha, NE. The couriers' route will take them from Deadwood to Ft. Laramie, WY, where they will hop a train that hooks up with the Union Pacific Railroad in western Nebraska. From there, it is a straight shot to Omaha, where the papers will be kept on file until South Dakota becomes a state.

It is a crisp morning. The town of Deadwood is waking up to a cool, wet morning -- the kind that you can see your breath in the air. It's only a matter of minutes, though, before it will become so warm, then hot, that people will be shedding their heavy morning jackets.

In the Deadwood assay office, Milo Karseboom hands Zeke a cup of hot, black coffee. "Here you go, and watch that tin cup! I swear it will burn yer mouth right off! Well, as you know, Dakota is not a state -- as yet. I suspect it will be someday, but until then, I have to get these claims filed at a proper state capitol, for legalities sake, you understand. I pride myself with treating my customers with all due respect, and they reward me by doing the same."

Milo gets wispy for a second before continuing. "I remember one time, this hotheaded guy accused me of stealing some gold off of one of his many nuggets, well! It was all I could do to keep the other miners from killing the guy! So they Ôlet him off' by driving him out of town. I don't know what ever happened to him. Anyway, I am rambling, my wife tells me I do that too often. Where was I? Oh yes. The job. Well, it's like this: It pays $5 a day, plus you won't have to worry about food and such, since once we get to the train I will be putting you and the others up in a fancy-dan Pullman car. I have already hired a couple of others whose services are impeccable. I don't know if you know them: Fritz Sandleman, Clayton Lenoard, Don Justin, a grizzled ol' tracker named Rube McLaundry, and that strange, but nice gal Julie. I don't know why she wants to go, I told her I wouldn't hire any women to work. But she made it very clear even a woman needs to work; I reckon she's right, so I jus' figured, what the Hell? I mean Heck. But, I did tell her not to let anyone know, if folks found out I hired a woman, or a girl, to do what might be a dangerous job. Well, I might not look so respectable to the good folks of Deadwood. Not that I am expecting any trouble, mind you, but one never knows; we're living in a Lawless land you understand."

Milo stops for a moment to take a sip of coffee, then continues, "We will all ride out together to Ft. Laramie to get the train, it might be a dull ride, but after that all you really need to do is sit back and enjoy the view. One other thing, I ran into your employer Mr. Murray the other day, an' he said it was jus' fine if you went. Now, I wasn't meddlin', I jus' was askin' I hope you do not mind me taking the liberties? We have a couple of days to prepare, so you can get what you need, or want to take. I would suggest some sleeping gear, as we might get stuck under the stars, at least once. Oh, and if you run into any of the others, please introduce yourself, and see how you get along. There ain't nothin' worse than people who work together that bicker. Well, I have to get back to my paper work now, and I think I see old Greezy coming, I hope he's got a legitimate claim today, I hate arguing with him -- he's so cantankerous"

Zeke, smiles and says, "That sounds fine. Thanks for the coffee, it'll set a body upright. I can get along with a mother bobcat in its den, so have no worries about the others and me. This is a business trip, and I'll do what's necessary to ensure it's a successful one. As to working with a woman, I have a feeling she's got sand in her britches and will do the job just fine."

Smiling, Milo agrees, "She lives in the wilderness, some say she's trying to convert the Injuns to Christianity, others say she's going to get herself killed!"

Zeke nods, "I'm ready to head out when ever ya'll are, just give me the word."

"Well, then have a good day and if you have any questions, feel free to drop by." As Zeke gets ready to leave, there is a tinkle as the door opens and James and Pete walk into Milo's office. Milo looks at them, "Ah-ha! Are you two here to apply for the job? I was just discussing it with, ah, Zeke here. Would you like to have a cup of coffee, or how about a cigar? I'll tell you all about it."

Zeke nods to the newcomers, "Good morning...I would take Mr. Karseboom up on the offer of coffee -- it's excellent." Zeke is a large man for the time, standing well over six feet. A thick shock of black hair frames a darkened face. Dark eyes appraise Joe from head to foot as he extends a large hand in greeting. While not classically handsome, there is something compelling in the nature of the man that speaks of raw energy and strength. "My name is Ezekial Solomon, and it appears that I will be accompanying the Mine titles. Are you here for a position, as well? I don't believe we've met before. Are you two new to town? I work for the Murrays at their pub and diner. As good as the food is, I eventually seem to meet everyone here in town."

Not one to be quiet, Milo interrupts and tells Pete and James about job, adding, "You know, I think I've got enough folks right now, that is, if both you guys are interested? I'll rustle up the rest of the Ôcrew' an hopefully we will be able to leave tomorrow morning, or the day after. That will give you a full 24 hours to get, well, whatever you need. So, check back here tomorrow mourning at, oh...eight?"

"All right, thank you Mr. Karseboom, sir," says James, shaking the man's hand to make the deal as tight as a corset on a preacher's daughter. Turning to Zeke and Pete with an approving appraisal, he adds, "Fellas, I've got my gear stashed at a camp just outside town, but I'm certainly in no rush to get back out there and watch the grass grow...if yer up for wranglin up somethin to do here in town?"

Zeke shakes his head, "Gentlemen, I believe I'll have to take my leave at this point. If we're to leave in just 24 hours, I'll have to set my affairs in order and say my goodbyes. If you would like, though, I will be at Murphy's this evening and would enjoy buying the first round. Until then..." Zeke concludes with a tip of his bowler before leaving the small office and heading down the street.

As Zeke, James and Pete leaves Milo's office, they can see that the frost is beginning to rise into steam, leaving a haze over the town -- a haze that will disappear into the ether very soon. The sun is hitting all of them in eyes as they stand on Dakota Street. It is, as usual, bustling with folks going about their morning business: Merchants; Miners; ne'er-do-wells; "respectable" types; and of course, lots and lots of traffic. A buckboard wagon, laden with lumber, slowly clatters by. Up the street, there seems to be some kind of traffic jam at the intersection, but that is a way's off, and of no real interest.

Just as the group starts down the street, Milo sticks his head out of the door. "Oh, ah, excuse me gentlemen...but one of the men you will be traveling with is standing right over there." Milo points across the street at the Smithy shop, "See that fella talking to the big burly guy? That's Fritz Sandleman, you might want to get acquainted. Well, I'll see y'all tomorrow." Milo gives the men a friendly wave and then ducks back inside.

James studies Fritz from a distance for a moment, then glances over at Pete and Zeke and shrugs his shoulders, "Well, looks like the kind of man I'd rather be on the good side of," and starts to moseys on over. Seeing him heading across the street, Pete tips his hat to Zeke and follows James across Dakota Street. As they approach, the burly smithy, Bryan, eyes them. Fritz and Bryan are in the middle of a conversation, with Fritz saying "So, this is the deal." His back to James and Pete, so he can't see them approach. Pete walks up to Fritz and says "G'mornin partner, I'm Pete Sanders and I reckon we're gonna be ridin' together."

"Look buddy, don't ever sneak up on me like that again!" Fritz snaps.

Bryan chuckles, "Relax Fritz, yer as nervous as my Grandma in a room full of rocking chairs!"

Fritz continues, "We are Ôriding' together? What do you mean?" He pauses, then says, "Oh, you mean the Paper Trail for Mr. Karseboom, hmm? So, who are you two? You just get Ôhired'? What will you be doing? I think this is interesting, we sure have a few folks going on this here trip, about." Fritz stops, mentally counting, "Yeah! Eight men, well, seven really, that dummy Milo hired a woman, as well. Now, we all gots to watch our language and all. BAH! The Ôweaker sex' an' all that!"

Bryan looks from Milo's office to Fritz. "Milo hired a woman? What the hell?"

Rolling his eyes, Fritz says, "Yeah, and just guess who? That's right: Julie...Juliet, whatever her name is -- the Injun lover." Bryan puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. "UGH! That little gal ought to go and get herself a husband, an' stop friggin' around with them heathen Injuns." Fritz makes a lewd gesture and laughs, "I know someone she could crawl in bed with!" The banter goes on for a bit, then Fritz turns to James and Pete, "Hang on! What did you guys say yer names was, I din' geet it?"

James extends his hand to Fritz, then to the Bryan. "Mr. Sandleman, the name's James McClintock. This here's Pete Sanders." He peers behind

Bryan's large frame into the interior of the Smithy. "Fine looking shop you have here, I suppose with all the traffic around, business is good?"

Bryan eyes James, "Go on in and have a look-see, if you want. Lots of business, in this town. It's THE place to be. I make lots of money. As you can see, there are lots of horses needing to be shod, so I make lots of horseshoes, and barrel rings for my brothers. Look, fellas, I really got to get back to it. So, unless you want to buy somethin', I've gotta go." Bryan heads back into forge, leaving the three standing there.

Meanwhile, Zeke had stopped outside Erin's Restaurant, watching James and Pete's conversation with Fritz. Not wanting to speak with him at the moment, he lights up a cigarette and studies Fritz. He notices Fritz looks startled at first, but then begins talking with the two. Stretching his broad shoulders, Zeke rolls another cigarette, enjoying the morning sun and being alive. Zeke scowls at the small group of men. Words that drift to him sound as if disparaging remarks are being made about women, and he dislikes the rough cut of the two men that his new traveling partners approached. He sizes up the blacksmith, smiling slightly and clenching a scarred hand. He loosens the joints while a feral look momentarily crosses his eyes. He looks Fritz up and down, checking for weapons, not noticing any. Then, Zeke snubs out the last bit of his cigarette under a booted heel, and removes his bowler and walks into the diner. It's not full right now, as folks are just getting ready to start the day.

Back on Dakota Street, Fritz frowns at the guys and says, "Well, I guess if were are goin' to be goin' together, we better get it straight, what kind o' guns you got? I need to know just how well armed we are all goin ta be. Plus, y'all gots a plan or sumthin'?"

"Well, sir, I carry this trusty Remington .44 six-shooter," says James, pulling back his coat with his right hand to reveal the holstered weapon. "And on my way West, I picked up a brand new, Winchester .44-75. Holds 12 rounds, very accurate. Beautiful rifle. If you're expecting trouble, I figure we ought to be able to handle it. As for a plan, that might be something to discuss over a warm meal with everyone. I'm getting hungry."

Following James' lead, Pete extends his hand to Fritz giving it a firm shake, then says, "I'm just packin' an ole' revolver here, nuthin' fancy." Looking over to James, "Grub sounds good to me."

Fritz nods his head, He's right, we got to go to the restaurant, they got the best Irish stew in town, plus the prettiest fillies I ever did see, but I got to warn you: They're Papists."

James shoots Fritz a look, which he doesn't pick up on -- just like he didn't pick up on the last name, McClintock. Papists indeed! Best to keep quiet about it for the time being, James thinks. He is starting to wonder about how far he would trust Fritz in a pinch. "Stew sounds like it would hit the spot."

Pete glances from James to Fritz, "I agree, stew sounds great. How about we meet you there in a few hours, says around noon? I need to pick up a few items from the Dry Goods store."

"Pete, I'm pretty well set up for supplies, got a tent and some grub, and some extra clothes in my saddle roll, but I'd be glad to stop by the store with you." James says. Nodding to Fritz, "We'll see you a noon, then."

Returning the nod, Fritz says, "Suit yerselfs, but drop by when your finished, we need to talk."

Once they are headed toward the Dry Goods store, Pete asks James, "Is there some bad blood between you and Fritz?"

"Never laid eyes on the man before this morning." James says. "But I've met his kind before...lots of growl, not a lot of bite. Maybe I'm wrong, but we'll see."

Quick Draw Western Campaign

Chapter 1
Chapters 2 and 3
Chapter 4