Free Until Our Final Breaths

An RP set in 1889 during the Wild era of Schwöbenland. Based on the activities of a gang in 19th Century Schwöbenland. Society is starting to move forward, while the gang is safe… For now. They are not long for this world. The gangs main motive is to live. And live free.

Town Of Stockkirch - Schwöbenland - 2nd February 1889 - 5pm (Abraham)

I drew my revolvers from their holsters, held them up. I kicked the door in, rewarded with a satisfying crunch as the lock broke as the oak doors swung open spitting out splinters of wood in all directions. “This is a god damned robbery!“ I shouted I brought both of my revolvers down and aimed them at the heads of the two Police Officers who were guarding the bank. I thumbed back the hammers on both of the revolvers and the rounds clicked into place. The two officers - who were completely stupified - raised their hands, slowly and trembling.  “Nobody move and no one gets hurt”

My 4 companions entered the bank, faces covered with faded charcoal coloured bandannas. They too had their guns drawn but were carrying leather satchels. They walked up the bank manager and threatened him to open the vault. He did. No low paid job is worth your life, is probably what he thought. My friends managed to get into the vault. One of them went back outside to keep guard. My friends in the vault were stuffing their bags with thousands of paper notes, while they were doing this everything was deadly silent. I could literally smell the sweet smell of money from where I was standing in the reception of the bank. Just as they had finished picking up everything, shots rang out, ripping through deadly silence. Coming from outside the building.

“Sorry Boys” I said as i pulled the triggers of my revolvers. My revolvers spat out the bullets into the police officers heads. Their blood exploded out in a crimson spray before they crumbled to the floor. I thumbed back the hammers of my revolvers again.

I stepped out into the street, sunlight fell upon my dirty skin, down from the clear pastel blue sky. Shots cracked out through the silence and collided with the sound of screams. The law had arrived. Police officers piled into the streets. “We have to get out of here!” I yelled and ran towards my horse, my friends follow. Shots zipped past my ears as I ran in zig zags trying not to get hit by the thunder of lead being hurled our way by the devil dogs of the Law. I occasionally returned shots, my revolver spitting flurries of sparks and of course enabling lead to fly!

I mounted my horse with haste. I whipped it and screamed go! The horse neighed and sprinted. I hear the beat of hoofs on the ground behind me as my friends follow. Bullets crackled through the air as we fired at the law and the law fired at us, the town was small and there was a woodland we could get ourselves lost in and escape the Police.

We galloped out of the town and headed left, straight into the woodland. Our horses furiously pounding the ground below them creating a chorus of hoof beats. The law continued to come after us until eventually they gave up and we were deep in the woods.

Münchenlach Forest - Schwöbenland - 2nd February 1889 - 11pm (Abraham)
I stared into the fire. The pops and crackles the fire makes was calming. Especially after that escape. We were back at camp, or home... at least for now. The money was safe and so were we. Or most of us were, Hans, the guy who goes out and scouts robberies hadn't been seen in 3 days and one of the gang had seen in the newspaper this evening, that he had been arrested down in Stokkirch for being in connection with us.
"Abraham!" one of the women who lived at the camp yelled.
"Yes miss?" I responded
"So are you going to get Hans?" She asked worried
I laughed and took a swig from my whiskey flask.
"That Hans can take care of himself" I responded jokingly
"There's talk of hanging him" She responded on the verge of tears
"Guess ill have to go get him then" I mumbled, standing up
I walked slowly toward my horse, but before I could reach it I noticed through the dark, 10 figures standing at the camp entrance guns raised.
"Everyone get down we are getting attacked!" I yelled jumping behind a tree and drawing my revolver

"We are the Schwoben Detective Agency, come quietly, none of you will die. At least not here but at the gallows instead!" A voice came from over a megaphone
Naturally one of our gang members yelled "Never! We are gonna stay free!"
Shots began to ring out as our gang fired on the law and the law fired on us. Dashes of light ripped through the air as bullets rained down upon us. I returned fire, emptying my revolver but killing two of the Detectives. But there wasn't just ten of them, there were hundreds and they just kept coming as we gunned them down. A shot cracked into the tree I was hiding behind, just as I began to reload my revolver, spitting splinters in all directions. I noticed that the rest of the gang began to back away they were going to run and ditch the camp. I would be split off from them, but the detectives will probably go after them when they try to escape rather than tracking me through the woods. I have a chance to grab the money and go. I can meet up with the gang again later. Following through on these thoughts I dashed out into the woods, undetected by Detectives. Ironic. I was going to get our stash out in the woods, I just hope the rest of the gang get away safely while I grab this money.

After I was deep in the forest I was well away from the Detectives. I was safe but shots rang out in the distance, my gang were still fighting the Detectives. I walk through the dense forest, branches crunching below my boots, no moonlight broke the tree canopy above. It was completely black and I didn't see much through the dark, but I had my heading. I knew where the money was. I was free. Free from the law. Free to live another night. But then I heard the unmistakable crunch of a shotgun being pumped.

"Don't move"

Town Of Stockkirch - Schwöbenland - 2nd February 1889 - 5pm (Hans)
I was laying on the bed. If you could call it a bed, its more just a slab of concrete. Very uncomfortable indeed. Beams of light came through the bars and fell onto my face. I wondered if I would ever get out of here. And that's when I got my chance, a police officer ran into the station beyond my cell. He informed the other officers that the bank is being robbed. All of the officers jumped from their seats and drew their revolvers before running out of the room together. Gunshots started to ring out in the distance and I realised it was time for me to leave. I'd stolen keys off of a officer on the way in, he hadn't noticed but if I tried to leave the other officers would have surely caught me. But not once they had all left I reached my hand through the bars and pushed the key into the cell lock. I then twisted and the lock made a metallic clang and the door creaked open. I walked out of the cell that had confined me for the past few days. I stretched my muscles as I had been cramped up in there. I then picked up my weapons from the box the police had them in before walking out of the room.

I stepped out into the street, sunlight fell upon my face and I breathed in fresh air for the first time in days. I could however smell gun smoke and gunshots continued to crack in the distance. I noticed my horse had been hitched outside the station. How convenient, its almost like they wanted me to escape. I mounted my horse and stowed my weapons back in my saddle before spurring my her and charging away from the station.

Münchenlach Forest - Schwöbenland - 3rd February 1889 - 0:01am (Abraham)
*crack*

"Don't move" A husky voice said in a thick Kanadorikan Accent
"Well shit" I said raising up my hands
"What you doin out here boy" The voice came
"Going for a midnight stroll" I responded jokingly
"Dangerous area for a stroll" The voice responded "My property here has been robbed 3 times this week alone, they keep coming back the goddamned bandits"
"Any chance I can carry on my stroll? I'm not here to rob you." I asked
"Sure, just watch yourself. Those bandits are everywhere. My apologies for aiming a gun at you. I gotta be safe" He said
"Good luck protecting your property from them" I responded before continuing walking into the woods after the hidden stash.

That was somewhat a fright considering people around this area ain't normally too friendly. Lucky I got out without getting my head blasted. I noticed that the gunshots in the distance had stopped, the gang had either escaped or they had all died, there's no way they would have been captured because they would fiercely resist. After a bit more walking I reached the stash area. A metal box in the ground. I grabbed the handle of the box, the metal was icy cold, i then lifted the box out of the hole in the ground with immense effort. I opened the box and it was full to the brim with cash. I didn't actually know how i was going to get this out of here. I ended up tying it down to the back of my horse with a rope and riding away.

I was going to have to plan what to do from here. One of our members was supposedly locked away and the rest had got away or died out here in the forest. I wouldn't dare go back to camp. At least not for now, I would have been arrested or shot on the spot. I could have left with the money and started a new life in another state or even another country. Or I could search for the gang. Thinking about it for a bit I knew I would never be able to fit into civilisation and I would end up trapped in a life I don't like, the idea that my life was based on is freedom. So I couldn't choose that option. Looks like I was going to have to find the gang. I mounted my horse and spurred her on, my plan was to hide out for a few days before going back to find the gang, this was all just a huge mess at that moment and I needed to clear it up.

Abraham

Völtal (1859)

Screams. Fire. The world in a haze. People darted about and screamed as the regimented military met unorganised and off guard resistance put up by my family. The Naarmans, resistors of Ninhundish tyranny. Defenders of the homeland. Shots ring out in the distance. My father was standing next to me. He turned to me, a crazed fear in his eyes. But of course I was just a child, I knew little of this world. Me and my friend, Hans. A member of our gang nowadays. A lost Ninhundish boy, picked up by our group when he was a baby.
“Run, don’t look back. They found us” he says with worry noticeably creeping into his voice, something I had not heard from a man of his high status within our village. He picked up his worn out revolver and loaded it with shaking hands.
“Stick together you two, run. Don’t return here. I love you”, Father said in an almost tearful voice. He stood up and took one last look at us before charging out of the trees into the smoke of battle, with a cry he aimed and pulled the trigger of his revolver, a bullet flew into the chest of a Ninhundish soldier who choked and fell back. That was the last I saw of my father as I turned and ran.

4th February East Münchenlach 1889

I woke up in a sweat. Breathing heavily. I stood and felt a calm breeze against my skin. I picked my mud stained hat up from the ground, dusted it off a bit and placed it on my head. I slowly drew in a large breath, and looked up at the forest canopy over my head. Calming. I approach my horse and untie her from the tree before patting her side and mounting up. I will continue my quest to find my gang. I must. I spurred my horse forward and she instantly kicked into action, beating her hoofs against the ground, propelling us out of the clutches of the forest and onto a dirt road.

The road was unshaded, despite the vast forest to my right, the sun could reach us and beat down the ground below from its seat in the sky. The road stretched out seemingly forever in front and behind me, a deadened brown beaten path which stood out from the deep green forest full of life around it. I decided to pick a direction and just went that way, in the hopes I ended up in the correct place, completely unknowing of where I was. I used the spurs on the back of my leather boots to prick the sides of my horse, pushing her forward with haste. As she took off forward, dust flew up into the air behind us - swirling away into the dense rainforest with the light breeze.

Hours of riding passed, the sun falling toward the horizon. Yet summer heat still shimmered in air. In the distance I heard a horse galloping, I looked up to see a masked individual running from law enforcement. Bullets dashed past him and guns thundered behind him. Yet as he approached I noticed a familiarity about him. “Abraham!” he shouted in a very light Ninhundish accent. Hans’ voice. I drew my revolver and fired at the law chasing him, hitting one in the shoulder knocking him from his horse and sending him sprawling across the floor. The other officers began to fire at me as Hans caught up to me and I turned and spurred my horse to the fastest speed she could manage. And me and Hans were on the run together.

More officers piled onto the road from the woods, continuing to chase us. We were slowly edging forward away from them but bullets continued to fly. Hans had been shot twice in the right arm and was trying to ride and shoot back with the gun in his left hand. Our horses breathed heavy and fast as we pushed them forward, their hoofs pounding the beaten path. “We should cut off into the forest to the side!” Hans yelled to me as his gun spat fire and smoke in the direction of our friends (The law) behind us. I guided my horse to the right of the path and spurred her to dash into the forest to the side with Hans following.

A few officers overshot and their horses went past the area we escaped into the woods, but two of them managed to turn in time and were still on our tails. I fired my revolver and hit one of them, the other officers horse became startled and threw him off before running off into the forest. Me and Hans decided to keep going and lose the remaining officers who were further behind us.

4th February South Münchenlach 1889

By the time we had escaped the law, the sun had set and the night had taken hold of the sky above leaving it a deep pool of the darkest black. The dark only pierced by the distant stars and the full moon. Hans sat, illuminated by the fire in front of him. Wrapping his bullet wounds in bandages. While I was cooking some meat over the fire to feed us.

“Luckily for me the bullets were quite easy to pull out” He laughed weakly “It looks like my temporary bandages i used at the time saved me from bleeding too much.”
“So how was jail” i said jokingly to him
“Very uncomfortable actually, there was also talk of hanging me the whole time” he responded
“Yeah, I was preparing to free you but our camp was ambushed by the law… I… I don't know if anyone survived…” I said hesitantly
He sighed and sat silently
“We all fought back but I… I was separated from them… When I returned there was no one… The law are good with body clearance after a massacre… so everyone could have been killed or captured… there were so many of them that it could have happened…” I said shakily
“Pigs! Slaughtering our people!” Hans said anger in his voice “I can’t believe it”
“It happened so fast… No one was prepared… Just like our village…” I responded
There was a moment of silence between us two that seemingly dragged on forever
“So it's just you and me again… Like old times? Always a thorn in the side of the brutes of the Ninhundish colonial forces?” Hans said
“We will always be against the colonials, if all goes well we will always present a threat to them or die trying” I responded

Hans agreed with me and continued to tend to his wounds. I thought to myself at the time that the world was closing in on those resisting the Ninhundish, they were strengthening their grip on us and cutting the resistance down. Our days are numbered, me as a Naarman and Hans as a Ninhundish man who is a very close friend to me. Especially with our long history of crimes, crimes against the Ninhundish colonists as I see them. Our end goal is really to create trouble for them, our “crimes” in the pursuit of freedom are weakening them. But not by much. Stealing Ninhundish money earned on our land? It can hardly be a crime when rightfully it belongs to us. They should not be here.