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Date: 7/26/1900 Subject: Hell let loose... After the tumultuous morning, we took our positions around the ranch, each of us feeling the weight of sleeplessness as we vigilantly scanned the house and its grounds. My wife was still struggling with her morning sickness, and our primary focus was to ensure her safety. The swamp-devils—shadowy figures lurking in the marsh—watched us intently from a distance, only retreating when we caught sight of them. As night fell, the stillness of the evening was shattered by the crack of gunfire coming from the bridges that spanned the swamp. It became apparent that the swamp had turned into a deadly trap, with no one managing to cross in or out. By morning, the grotesque display of bodies strung up from the trees served as a grim testament to the night’s violence, marking the swamp as a place of peril and death. After midnight, while we remained on high alert, the ranch was suddenly pierced by agonizing screams from the direction of the tents. The blood-curdling cries were quickly swallowed by an eerie silence. Heart pounding, we dashed to investigate, only to stumble upon a scene of horror: Wade Sunderland, one of my young ranch hands, lay lifeless in his tent, his body marred by multiple stab wounds. As we struggled to process the chilling sight, two shadowy figures emerged from the woods, their sinister laughter echoing through the night before they vanished into the darkness. The air was thick with a sense of dread, and the safety of our haven seemed more precarious than ever. Date: 7/26/1900 28th? I don't even remember anymore Subject: Through hell and back On July 27th, the familiar figure of Spike returned to the ranch. He was a man we had come to know all too well, and his presence signaled another confrontation. With a grim determination, he demanded an end to the bloodshed that had plagued us, but his offer was laced with a menacing threat that made it clear he was not to be trifled with. Our peace talks were brief and tense. We agreed to his terms: we would cease our attacks if they stopped their harassment. Reluctantly, we let Spike leave, hoping that this would mark the end of our troubles. But as we would soon learn, the uneasy truce was not the resolution we had hoped for. Instead, it marked the beginning of a far more perilous chapter in our struggle. After Spike vanished from our sight, the sudden crack of gunshots shattered the uneasy silence. It was a signal for his men, who began to advance down the train tracks toward us, quickly setting up blockades and rigging the area with gunpowder. The ominous preparations made it clear that something disastrous was unfolding. With their advance quickening, we realized that alerting the authorities or neighbors was no longer an option. Time was too short. I gathered as many of my men as I could and gave my dear Grace a stern instruction: stay at the house with a few ranch hands and provide covering fire while we confronted the threat. Determined to halt Spike’s plan before it could gain momentum, we moved out to push back the swamp devils, fighting to stop their schemes from coming to fruition. The stakes were high, and we knew that every second counted. The battle was grueling. Though Spike's men were less skilled with their guns, their sheer numbers overwhelmed us. They took advantage of the trees, using them as cover to unleash a relentless barrage of gunfire. Despite the odds, we pressed on, determined to push them back. After a fierce struggle, we managed to drive them away, at least temporarily. With the immediate threat receding, we made the decision to fall back to the ranch. Rejoining my dear wife and the remaining ranch hands, we knew our next step was crucial. We resolved to alert the Sheriff, hoping that his intervention would help us turn the tide in this escalating conflict. Before we could plan our next move, we saw that Spike’s men were already at work fortifying the train tracks once more. Realizing that we needed to act swiftly, we mounted up and set off with renewed determination, ready to drive them back. In the midst of the chaos, we had a photographer with us who had been caught in the crossfire. We quickly instructed him to head to Rhodes and then on to Saint-Denis. His mission was crucial: he had to seek out aid and bring reinforcements to help us in this dire situation. As we rode to confront the enemy, we hoped that his journey would bring the support we desperately needed. Everything fell apart when my men, ignoring our plan, pushed deeper into the swamp. I yelled for them to hold back, but my voice was lost in the chaos. Sticking to my position on the train tracks, I provided covering fire, determined not to follow them into the swamp. I had promised my wife I’d return safely, and their reckless advance seemed destined for disaster. As I fought to hold the line, Spike and his men appeared, their guns blazing. I dodged their shots, but one grazed my arm, and another struck a gunpowder barrel. The explosion ripped through the tracks, creating a momentary diversion. Seizing the chance, I sprinted into the cover of the woods and eventually made my way back to the ranch, where I hoped to find some semblance of safety. Just before I reached the ranch, I encountered a posse led by James Merriman and the folks from Sunset Dale. While we had been engaged in the fight, my wife had sought their help, and they had come through for us. I quickly briefed them on the dire situation. Without hesitation, they plunged into the swamp to retrieve my men from the clutches of danger. Seth was severely wounded, and Johnny and Ross were in rough shape as well. The swamp devils had suffered heavy losses, but the fight had taken its toll on us. As we regrouped, we transported those in need of medical care to the local doctor. The night stretched long and sleepless, fraught with pain and a gnawing anxiety about what the future held. Date: 7/28/1900 Subject: Hell itself On July 28th, we regrouped at the ranch, determined to push through our pain and maintain the morale of our men. My left arm throbbed relentlessly, and Seth bore a nasty scar across his face. Johnny and Ross were also injured, their suffering evident, but despite their options to leave, they chose to stay by our side. Their presence was a testament to their loyalty and the true spirit of friendship in the face of adversity. While we gathered at the front of the house, discussing our next steps, my dear Grace sought solace in a book at the back of the ranch, trying to escape the turmoil that had recently engulfed us. Unbeknownst to her, one of the swamp devils had crept up silently and abducted her. They dragged her to the depths of the swamp, imprisoning her in a cage. There, she was left alone, gripped by fear and uncertainty, desperately wondering if she would ever see me again. The thought of her terror and isolation shattered my heart and ignited a seething anger within me that I could scarcely contain. My dear Grace, with her unyielding spirit, refused to surrender easily. Even in captivity, she managed to stand her ground against the swamp devils, especially Cleet, who tried relentlessly to extract information from her. Despite their threats and intimidation, Grace only left them with a few scratches and a fierce defiance. The devils were brutal, fully aware of her pregnancy. They chose not to harm the baby directly, but they cruelly used the knowledge to taunt her, and eventually, to taunt me as well. Their taunts were a constant reminder of her peril, adding to the anguish and frustration that gripped me as I fought to find her and bring her home safely. The instant we discovered Grace was missing, the air around the ranch erupted with explosions. The swamp devils had used dynamite to create a diversion while they snatched her away. We scrambled for cover as the fog began to roll in, obscuring our view and complicating our efforts to track them. The chaos eventually subsided, and a lone rider appeared at the ranch. It was Spike’s brother, come seeking revenge. He demanded the name of the man who had executed Spike the previous day, offering a grim trade: the life of that man for my wife. The decision weighed heavily on me. If I revealed Ross's identity, both he and Grace would likely face certain death. The trade was one I could not accept, and so, with a heavy heart, no deal was struck. As I sifted through my belongings, I found my grandpa's old Civil War gun, its weight a reminder of the legacy I carried. Determined, I resolved to brave the swamp alone if necessary—my sole goal was to find Grace, even if it meant I wouldn’t come back. While I was in my room, preparing myself for the perilous journey, a sudden burst of gunfire shattered the silence. The frantic calls of my men reached me, their voices tinged with urgency. The ranch was under attack. It was time to defend our home. Without hesitation, I grabbed my gun and rushed out, ready to fight for the safety of those I held dear. After a grueling battle that claimed the lives of a dozen men on both sides, the remaining swamp devils finally surrendered. One of them, gravely wounded and desperate, begged for mercy. I offered none unless he revealed where my wife was. In a final act of defiance, he lunged at me with a gun that, to his misfortune, was empty. Fury consumed me as I realized he would rather die than disclose Grace’s location. With a grim resolve, I ordered Seth to finish him. Seth, his face set in a determined scowl, carried out the order with ruthless efficiency, ending the man’s life with a brutal swing of his machete. When the battle ended, there was no time to gather our fallen or grieve their loss. We immediately set about searching the bodies of the swamp devils, desperate for any clue that could guide us to Grace. Among the scattered belongings, we discovered her comb, stained with blood. The sight was chilling, and though it didn’t confirm her whereabouts or condition, I refused to entertain the possibility that she might be lost to us. Determined, I made the call. We would venture into the swamp, track their movements, and capture one of them alive if we could. It was our only hope of finding her and bringing her home safely. Before we could push further into the swamp, we were intercepted by Cleet. He demanded that I come alone if I wanted to see my wife. He instructed me to ride back with him to deliver Spike's killer—meant to be a show of good faith. Desperation clouded my judgment. With only the hope of seeing Grace again to guide me, I agreed and rode off with Cleet by myself. When we arrived, I saw her—alone in a cage, surrounded by those heartless swamp devils. The brief moment of reunion was shattered when Cleet struck me from behind with the butt of his shotgun. The blow sent me crashing into darkness, and as I slipped into unconsciousness, Cleet locked me in the cage beside her. Cleet tried to extract information from us, continuously taunting the two of us, promising to kill my wife before my eyes if I didn't speak. My dear wife and I hugged each other tight and refused to give them any information and deep in my heart I was hoping that Seth, Ross and Hudson did not give up on us. When Cleet and his men grew tired of us, they decided to shoot Grace, only that the gun was empty. Feeling humiliated he pulled his revolver and shot me in the abdomen instead. Grace quickly put herself between me and Cleet, hoping to make him stop, which he did. He left us both, left me in Grace's arms as she tried to control my bleeding, crying as I started drifting in and out in her arms. We were desperate and we thought that this was the end, but at least we were together in the end. Seth, Ross, and Hudson never gave up on us. Their resolve remained unshaken even as Cleet's camp receded into the thick, treacherous swamp. They tracked us with the determination of men who refused to let their friends be lost to darkness. The swamp, a maze of mud and tangled trees, became their ally. Using the dense foliage for cover, they moved silently, their presence nearly imperceptible among the shadows and muck. Each step was measured, each sound carefully muffled. The relentless murk of the swamp cloaked their movements, making them nearly invisible to the unwary. As they approached the camp, the trio worked with a practiced precision, slipping past the guards with an almost eerie quiet. Seth's eyes, sharp and focused, guided them through the camp's defenses. Ross and Hudson, equally skilled, neutralized the guards one by one, their movements fluid and efficient. Each subdued guard was a step closer to our salvation. Meanwhile, Grace and I remained locked in that confining cage. The world outside seemed distant and unreachable, our fate hanging by a thread as we waited in that claustrophobic prison. The sounds of the swamp and the occasional distant murmur of voices were all that broke the oppressive silence within the cage. Unbeknownst to us, Seth, Ross, and Hudson were working their way through the camp, each movement a testament to their unwavering commitment. As they cleared the last of the guards, their mission to rescue us neared its culmination. The swamp, once an impenetrable barrier, now seemed to promise a glimmer of hope. Soon, they would breach the perimeter, and the cage that held us would be their next target. The anticipation of their arrival was a beacon of hope in our darkest hour, a reminder that even in the bleakest moments, there were those who would fight to bring us back from the edge. Cleet’s patience had worn thin. Frustrated by our unyielding silence, his methods had all proved fruitless. With a cold finality, he turned to his men and issued the grim order: it was time to end it. In the cage, Grace and I clung to each other, our hearts heavy with the weight of our impending fate. Tears welled up in our eyes as we whispered the words that would be our last to each other. "I love you," I said, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you too," Grace replied, her voice trembling. We shut our eyes, bracing ourselves for the inevitable. The sound of Cleet’s men preparing their guns filled the air, a stark reminder of the end that awaited us. We held each other tightly, seeking comfort in our shared embrace, awaiting the final, fatal click. Then, as if by a miracle, a familiar voice shattered the tense silence. “NOW!” The command echoed through the swamp, and in an instant, everything changed. The sound of bullets whizzing past us was a cacophony of chaos. We instinctively ducked down, our bodies pressed close, shielding each other as best we could. Through the blur of fear and confusion, we realized that Seth, Ross, and Hudson had arrived. The heroes we had hoped for were here, their intervention swift and decisive. Their gunfire sent Cleet’s men scattering, their once-dominant presence now reduced to frantic retreat. Amid the disarray, Grace and I remained huddled together, our breaths coming in shaky relief. The danger was not yet over, but the arrival of our friends marked a turning point. In the midst of the turmoil, we could finally allow ourselves a glimmer of hope, our rescue unfolding before our eyes as the swamp devils fled into the shadows. When we finally escaped the cage, the scene around us was a grim testament to our ordeal. The ground was littered with the bodies of the swamp devils, their reign of terror finally over. We wasted no time. We commandeered one of their boats and, with the adrenaline still surging through us, crossed the river to safety. Seth, ever the steadfast friend, carried me with a determination that spoke volumes. Grace stayed close, her presence a constant source of strength. We raced through the dense underbrush toward Saint-Denis, our destination within reach but still feeling worlds away. Arriving at Doctor Emilia Thornbridge’s office, we burst through the doors. The urgency of the situation was palpable. Without hesitation, Doctor Thornbridge began the surgery I so desperately needed, her skilled hands moving with practiced precision. Grace remained by my side throughout the ordeal, her grip on my hand a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. The rest of our group stayed outside, giving us the space needed for the life-saving procedure. As the anesthesia wore off and I began to regain consciousness, my first and only coherent thought was of Grace. I managed to utter her name, the sound escaping my lips as a barely audible whisper. When I finally opened my eyes and saw her there, her face was a mix of relief and pain, marred by bruises and the lingering fear of our recent ordeal. The sight of her, despite the pain etched in her expression, was a balm to my fractured spirit. We were out of the hell we had endured together, our escape a hard-won victory. In that moment, surrounded by the dim light of the doctor’s office, I felt a deep, unspoken gratitude. We had survived, and as I looked at Grace, I knew that despite the scars we bore, we had emerged from the darkness side by side. As we began to process the harrowing events that had unfolded, the respite we yearned for remained elusive. Detective Campbell arrived with a grim promise—he claimed they had finally apprehended the man responsible for our suffering. His assurance was that it would be a brief encounter, after which Grace and I could return to Dr. Emilia Thornbridge for the continued medical care we desperately needed. Though hesitant, we both understood the need for closure. We followed Detective Campbell, our hearts heavy with a mixture of hope and apprehension. The journey to the police station felt like an eternity, each step weighed down by the tension of unresolved anger and the gnawing desire for justice. When we arrived, the sight of Cleet behind bars was both a relief and a torment. There he was, confined but still smirking with a twisted satisfaction. His taunts were relentless, a bitter reminder of the horrors he had inflicted upon us. Each word was a fresh stab, filling me with a rage that was barely containable. I wanted nothing more than to lash out, to make him pay in the most visceral way. But the guards were quick to intervene, and I was forcefully escorted out. My frustration boiled over, and I could only voice my anger in a torrent of curses directed at the police, the justice system, and the country that seemed to fail in delivering the retribution I craved. The man who had brought such suffering to my doorstep remained behind bars, awaiting a fair trial. The reality of our justice system, with its insistence on due process, denied me the satisfaction of exacting my own brand of justice. As I was led away, my heart ached with the knowledge that Cleet would not face the end I had so desperately wanted for him. As we were escorted back to Dr. Emilia Thornbridge’s office, a sense of weary resignation settled over us. Detective Campbell was waiting, and he needed a detailed account of our ordeal. I was too exhausted and emotionally drained to care much for the empty reassurances of justice. Instead, I sat down and recounted everything—the horror, the fear, and the pain—while Dr. Thornbridge worked diligently to attend to Grace. In the midst of the chaos, the doctor's focus was on Grace's injuries and, most importantly, on our unborn child. As she examined Grace, we were relieved to hear that our baby had remained unharmed despite the turmoil. The news was a small but vital beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there could be light. The night dragged on, a heavy curtain of exhaustion settling over us. When it finally came time to leave, Mr. Gaverlyk, a kind-hearted acquaintance, offered us a ride home in his carriage. The warmth and comfort of the carriage were a welcome contrast to the cold reality we had endured. As we settled into the carriage, Grace and I huddled together, finding solace in each other’s embrace. The nightmare we had endured seemed surreal as we finally allowed ourselves to rest. We drifted into a deep sleep, intertwined in our exhaustion and relief, knowing that we had survived this hellish ordeal together. The scars, both visible and hidden, would remain with us forever. But as we lay together in the stillness of the carriage, waiting for the new dawn, we found comfort in the knowledge that we had faced the darkness and emerged on the other side, united and alive. Once again special thanks to @ImEmma, my dear Harmony Hill family, SDPD and everyone that was part of this event.

Hello all, Starting this week I'll be posting in this thread regurarly. The idea is to post a random player/character portrait every once in a while. First character is Mallory Gimble, whom unfortunately got CKd this week. My idea is that I randomly pick someone once in a while to practise drawing and also have fun discussions about encounters you might've had with a player! Also feel free to recommend players in the comments! RIP legend

For the next drawing, I tried out some more soft techniques, which for me is a lot harder to do. Ladies and gentlemen, Declan Byrne aka @.nova

Sketch time, this time I made Red Moon - a shaman. An old Native Kainai Warrior from Alberta Canada, who lost his former tribe to conflict and disease. After many years of wandering he found himself in South Tahoma where he joined the Makoyi and due to his deep spiritual beliefs decided to take on the role of Shaman for the tribe. It's been fun seeing all these different characters and spending a little time imagining what they're like. More to come!

She's the woman currently leading the Braithwaite heritage into a promising future. Eleanor Felicity Braithwaite, a visually perfect woman also ensures to maintain, in her courts, flawless Edwardian etiquette. While she may seem from afar, a kind woman, there might also be a cunning side to her - how else would a woman in this day and age thrive amidst the upper echelons of South Tahomian high society. @kate (I have to admit this was especially fun to make as this allowed me to try period accurate style and mix it with my own. Enjoy!)

After reading through the initial post, and then the immediate & overwhelming court of public opinion’s response, Management have come to the following decision: No.

(Click on the images to enlarge.) Previous Issue: Vol. 44, No. 28.

The Dallas Spivey Gang, also known as The Bagmen, were a gang that consisted of the lowest of the low that the South of Tahoma had to offer and into the early 1900s, they were one of the last remaining gangs of the Wild West before they were wiped off the face of the earth, notoriously known for their brazen crimes, and their trademark bag masks the Lawmen often had a hard time tracking down this specific gang, their members an identifying them, much like how the lynch mob took the Law into their own hands with similar masks, the tables were turned in this instance making it tricky for Lawmen across the state to keep up. The Dallas Spivey gang were a ruthless bunch which were not shy of leaving a bloody trail behind them, renowned for their strategic and planned robberies, bushwhack killings and extortionist tactics. It's said the gang was formed after the downfall of a previous gang; The Dead Horses which were another ruthless gang to reign terror on the citizens of South Tahoma, ran by Deirdre Browner and Mallory Gimble, their time ran out after a bank job in Saint Denis in 1899 after Lawmen and Bounty Hunters caught up with them. Prior to the gang being formed, Dallas led an outlandish life, originally working under the guise of a Ranchhand at the Sunset Dale Ranch which is still a promising piece of land till this day, belonging to the Merriman family. He manipulated people into thinking he was nothing more than that, coming from a troubled past and living a double life he’d con, take advantage, rob and kill as he pleased under the cover of darkness. This kept him off the Law’s radar but before they even caught wind Dallas was on the move, bouncing from town to town until he took up with the Dead Horses gang and many of his friends along the way, some even saying he rode with the famous Outlaw Bill Wade at one point though not confirmed. It’s believed he partook in a train job out in Annesburg. After a string of bank and stagecoach robberies, Dallas went into hiding, living the high life under an alias. He found refuge with Emily Fox, a notorious lady bandit known for charming wealthy men, then conning and robbing them of their hard-earned money. For a while, he managed to stay under the radar, but soon his name was making headlines again. Wanted posters with his face began appearing across the state, and the bounty on his head kept rising. Realizing he couldn’t survive alone, he formed a posse of like-minded individuals, including former members of the once-mighty Dead Horses gang, and rumors spread that outlaws from other infamous gangs had joined his ranks as well. The citizens of South Tahoma were petrified to say the least, often hiring protection just to travel across the state not knowing if these hooded figures would jump out on them and with new gang members being recruited, it often came with new ways of making money, whether it be cattle rustling, thieving horses or stealing stages and wagons, this particular gang was not shy to it. Anything for the sake of making money, they’d often raid other gangs camps and stashes just to get their point across even killing them in the process.

Discord ID/User: . joziah Suggestion Outline: Currently, you'll receive a little pop up box if you receive telegram and you are online in the game at the same time. However, there is nothing of the sorts for when you are offline so you'll have no idea if you received a telegram or not unless you check the post office. So my suggestion is that a person will be notified upon logging in that they have unopened telegrams at the post office along with subsequent notifications for maybe every hour they are online. What script/development support will it require?: idk man 😞 How will this benefit the community of STRP? : I have lost countless roleplay opportunities for myself and opportunities to provide others with roleplay because I forgot to check my character's telegrams and thus made delay or cessation of that potential scene of roleplay. Having a reminder that notifies you that you have unread telegrams at the post office will prompt you to check them and thus avoid a situation where you get involved in roleplay and then forget.

This time I tried a more sketchy style, it took some more effort, but this character sure is deserving of such. To some of you she may be known as a pain in your ass, to others she was the mother of the Dead Horses. Currently Deirdre Browner sits in the Saint Denis jail awaiting justice that might finally be served. @freedomfaller

(Click on the image to enlarge) Previous Issue: Vol. 44, No. 26 | Following Issue: Vol. 44, No 28

It's been over 500 days since South Tahoma Roleplay opened our doors. 7,000 characters and 2,300 whitelist applications later, and we're still standing after our fair share of adversity, peaks, dips and valleys. Nobody could argue that the text-based roleplaying scene is significantly smaller than our 'voice roleplay' counterparts, and the RDR2 crowd for such roleplay is even smaller than the GTA playerbase. The STRP project has come with its fair share of problems and issues, but none more prevalent than the technical side of things. This newsletter exists to give you a full, uncensored deep dive into why we've decided to perform a full database wipe, construct a new lore in a geographically restricted setting, and a true-to-text gameplan of our future. This newsletter has been broken down into various 'spoilers', so you can choose to read the more 'in depth' sections as you wish. If you're interested in a more streamlined version, kindly scroll below the spoilers to visit the timeline, and FAQ's. With love, Bill, Blueice, Bailey, Karner and the ST Staff This section talks about RedM, CFX, Resource Usage & VORP - and the extreme difficulties of building a RedM server with 3rd party script authors. This is the primary motivation for our hard reset; and also forces a database wipe, to allow harmonious migration. A written note directly from Lead Development Karner, talking about the difference between the STRP 1884 relaunch in Early 2025, versus the actual integration of STRP 2.0's bespoke scripts; which will come slightly later, but will not cause (yet another) hard reset. Additionally, a note on how easy server hitches (the memory leak) are to tackle, if we don't have to use 3rd party scripts and resources. This section talks about key elements of the RDR2 Text experience that have nothing (or little) to do with the technical side of things. We're discussing things like Whitelisted Jobs, the Economy, the Map, the Lore, and the more Administrative (as in, paper-heavy) decisions to construct the fictional State of Tahoma. This section focuses on the gratification of roleplay that isn't considered 'passive', the interlinks (or lack thereof) day-to-day roleplay and our current 1900 server lore, and the Law vs. Outlaw experience; all of which we'd like to make more practical in the roleplay experience of South Tahoma 1884 - however some of these practical changes may be delayed, in favour of core scripts. This section talks about the state of the South Tahoma Staff Team, tackles recent looming complaints, and identifies some areas that we'd like to focus on with South Tahoma 1884; to ensure that our basic mission statement of "the role of the staff is to facilitate fun and engaging roleplay above all else" is followed in all available faculties; from handling /reports, to answering tickets, to engaging in community discourse. All in all, there's a lot to look forward to. We'd like to reiterate that the leading motivation for this hard reset was the technical side of affairs; which have reached an unfortunate stagnation where our entire development team are overly frustrated with 3rd party scripts and our inability to properly diagnose and fix issues - essentially forcing us to build a skyscraper with one arm tied behind our back. Of course, other elements such as the playerbase decline, the constant dying & reviving of roleplaying hubs (without consistency from the previous lore), and the irrelevant server lore that disallowed meaningful roleplay contributed. We'd like to offer a brief FAQ section, along with an expected timeline of affairs; to keep you fully in the loop. Sunday 1st December The lore is released. | A new 'Character Bios' section is released for those that want to pre-write their characters. Friday 6th December Whitelisted Role Applications Open (incl. newly Whitelisted Leaders: USMS, Apache Tribe, County Sheriff's). Friday 13th December Faction Applications Open | Rules Update Friday 20th December Whitelisted Leader Applications Close & are replied to. Remaining Whitelisted Roles remain Open until at capacity. Early January 2025 STRP 1884 launches with key inhouse script replacements, and necessary 3rd party scripts for first quarter operation. Summer 2025 STRP 1884's 3rd party scripts are replaced with inhouse scripts, without another data migration; so everything can be retained. Q: Why have you done this to me and my character? A: The decision was made to perform a hard reset for a multitude of reasons, largely covered above, however the plethora of 3rd party resources and various technical issues; and the key lack of centralizing our small community into an intimate setting where roleplay could be appropriately supported were the key reasons above all else. We found that more isolated concepts such as ranches could flourish due to their inherently secluded community, but the 11 towns (from Annesburg to Tumbleweed) could never see extensive concepts due to a plethora of reasons. Q: OK, but why does my character have to be deleted? A: The 'MVP' that was spoken about in Karner's earlier note dictates that a few of these core script replacements (largely, those by VORP) will simply require a database wipe to allow sensical migration; rather than attempting to essentially 'rewrite' every single character for a new framework (Feather) down the line. Q: I just got here! Why have you done this now? A: Unfortunately, this is a sentiment that could be reasonably applied all-year-round. There's always a new character who just got whitelisted, a new property that just got approved, a narrative unfinished or a story untold; and there's never a 'perfect' time to reset everything. We decided to opt for Winter 2024, as a combination of the upcoming holiday season and the already-declining playerbase seemed like the best of an impossible circumstance. Q: Why can't I remake my 1900's character? A: We've put a lot of effort into constructing a brand new story, with brand new key buildings and roles, with a brand new year, brand new laws and a brand new constricted setting - to allow characters to essentially 'rewind' their life 16 years and selfinsert into a brand new context above all else would be a disingenuous effort to create something fresh. However, persons who have their heart set on a certain archetype ("I want to own a stables again", "I want to be a rancher again", "I want to be an artist again", etc.) are of course more than welcome to do so. People can and should roleplay what they want to roleplay, we just ask that you allow your creativity to flourish and drum up something that's era appropriate. Q: Why don't you just relaunch in Summer 2025? A: Because of Karner's talented noodle; we're able to perform a 'soft launch' at the start of the year, and then inject our MVP down the line without the need for wiping the database yet again. This will mean the development team can approach the MVP at their own pace, whiel players are welcome to get their new stories underway. We're confident that server hitches (commonly mistaken as 'memory leaks') won't be present in the January launch. Q: Have you rushed this decision? A: We have been discussing our options since April 2024, and considered a multitude of options other than a hard reset; however primarily due to the impossibility of migrating a SQL database from VORP to FEATHER, this was the best option. Q: What's a 'Faction Application'? A: We're wanting to put a heavy focus on factions in STRP 1884. Currently, we get the feeling that many Factions feel like they're working 'under' Faction Management, or are unheard of. A new invite-only Discord that will replace the STRP Community Discord will host critical discourse between approved factions, their leaders and members, a newly appointed Head of Faction Management and their team; to hopefully encourage a more symbiotic relationship between Factions & FM, rather than one that feels like a battle. Ergo, while we won't stop you playing as a 'group of friends', we're encouraging faction applications as a 'proof of concept', which will come with a myriad of benefits. Q: How many character slots will there be? A: At launch, 3. Logic being a Main, an Alt, and an auxiliary slot for one-shot characters, events, etc. We may opt to up this limit on a 'as needed' basis. Q: What Law Agencies will be present? A: At launch, New Austin Sheriff's Office, West Elizabeth Sheriff's Office, United States Marshal Service. Q: Can I play as a Native? A: A pre-existing 'official' faction of Apaches will be supported by Faction Management, along with an application for the Chieftain of such; however you are welcome to roleplay as a nomadic native or a small band of native american friends if you do not wish to roleplay as an Apache. Q: Will I still be able to go to New Hanover, Lemoyne and Guarma? A: Physically, yes - however it will be excruciatingly inconvenient. No scripts, no map, no support at all. If necessary, we will construct a basic rule under 'Common Sense' to avoid these counties entirely. Guarma will not be included at all. Q: Will you expand the map if the playerbase outgrows New Austin & West Elizabeth? A: Of course. Q: Will the forum content be saved? A: Yes. Any 'community content' will be held in South Tahoma 1900, for as long as our storage allows. Q: Will my Administrative record also reset? A: Nice try.

You can apply decals with the command /decal then any number between 1-76. Decals do stack, but there is a limit, though it is quite high, I haven't confirmed the exact number yet. Some decals are animated and may take a few moments to appear. Others might disappear over time. The order you apply decals in can also alter the results I have found. To remove your decals, type /ddecal Here are what each of the decals do: 1. Completely covered in oil 2: Bloody right elbow 3. Oil on torso and face 4. Covered in dirt 5. Facial bruising 6. Facial cuts 7. Facial bruising 2 8. Bleeding claw marks on left of face and neck 9. Blood spatter on face 10. Bloody left elbow 11. Bloody right wrist 12. Blood spatter on torso and right arm 13. Blood spatter on torso 14. Blood spatter on right of torso 15. Blood spatter on right of torso and right arm. 16. Bloody chest 17. Bloody nose and lip 18. Blood upper torso and face 19. Bloody back 20. Bloody belly 21. Bloody hands 22. Dirt around left eye 23. Small amounts of blood spatter on face 24. Bloody hands and face 25. Bloody right hip 26. Bruised and bloodied face 27. Bruised, bloodied right of face 28. Bruise right cheek, bloodied face 29. Bloodied right shoulder, blood spatter on face 30. Bloodied face and right shoulder, shot in the head (covered by hairline a lot of the time) 31. Bloodied face and shoulders 32. Powder burned torso and arms 33. Powder burned torso and arms 2 34. Powder burned torso and arms 3 35. Bloody right knee 36. Bloody right leg 37. Bloodied left lip 38. Bloodied knuckles and fingers 39. Bloodied left hand 40. Bloodied back of right hand 41. Bloodied back of left hand 42. Bloodied back of right hand 2 43. Bruised left eye 44. Cut left lip, broken nose bridge 45. Facial bruising 3 46. Bloody boots 47. Muddy left arm 48. Muddy right arm 49. Muddy back 50. Muddy back 2 51. Covered in mud 52. Muddy face 53. Muddy boots 54. Muddy front 2 55. Muddy front torso 56. Muddy palms 57. Muddy forehead 58. Muddy right side 59. Muddy right side 2 60. Muddy left side 61. Broken nose bridge 62. Shot left shoulder 63. Shot left shoulder 2 64. Bloody lower torso 65. Covered in mud 66. Throat slashed, bloody torso 67. Pissed pants (possibly male only) 68. Bloody left hip 69. Bruised right eye 70. Cut under right eye 71. Bloodied left forehead 72. Shot left shoulder 3 73. Bloody ass 74. Shot in chest 75. Bloody back shoulders and upper legs 76. Vomited on For ease of access, here are some lists of decals seperated by type. Injury Blood Mud

Discord ID/User: sean100 Suggestion Outline: as the title says, do a poll on discord for the removal/keeping of horse hunger and thirst. What script/development support will it require?: horse hunger and thrist. Why will it benefit South Tahoma Roleplay?: universally all of the people that i have talked to about the horse hunger script have a disliking for it. correlation does not mean causation but ever since it was re-added i have been getting a lot of stuttering and i am aware that is why it was removed in the first place. the script it tedious, unnecessary and unengaging. it feels like it has been added just to have it rather than a decent reasoning behind it. more doesn't always mean better. the script is increasingly miserable due to the persistent glitch of the horse menu not populating. poll the community, pretty please.

Dallas "Bagman" Spivey—robber, thief, conman, and all-around scoundrel. He’s the kind of fella who roams the dusty trails between towns with a bag on his head, thinking it’s a clever disguise. Whether he's holdin' up stagecoaches or swindling poker hands, he’s as slippery as a rattlesnake. @The Gallows

The Makóyi Confederacy The Makóyi Confederacy, also known as the Makóyi Ótapi’sin (Wolf People) or simply the Makóyi, is a Native American tribe with roots in the state of Tahoma. In their heyday, they were one of Tahoma's most formidable Plains Indian tribes and ruled a vast territory that stretched from the mountain peaks of Mount Hagen to the heavily forested region of Tall Trees. The term "Makóyi Confederacy" is a historic collective name for linguistically related groups that make up the Makóyi people. These groups included the Iksim Ómahksíkimi ("Secret Lake"), the Ómahkapi’siiksi ("Big Coyote"), the Makoyópowáóowahsin ("Rising Mountain"), and the Ponokáísski ("Elk Face"). These aforementioned subtribes all had their unique customs, traditions, and territories, but often acted as one large entity in times of war, with the various warrior societies of these groups banding together to fight off much larger foes such as the Lakota, their lifelong enemies. The Makóyi have long waged war against Siouan-speaking nations, with their only Siouan-speaking allies being the Wapiti, whom the Makóyi had long shared borders and enemies with. Their language is part of the Algonquian language family, which includes those of the Blackfoot, Arapaho, Gros Ventre, and many other tribes. Their language bears striking similarities to how the Blackfoot talk. The Makóyi Ótapi’sin are very culturally similar to that particular tribe, with many of their myths, legends, and creation stories being borrowed from the Blackfoot but with unique interpretations. These similarities were also present in the Makóyi way of life, especially when it came to their proficiency in warfare, horse culture, hunting, and their later complete despisal of the French and white settlers. The tribe's name, Makóyi Ótapi’sin, derives from the Blackfoot language and means Wolf People. It is said that the Makóyi's various subtribes followed wolves through the mountainous terrain in their earliest years, believing that they would lead them to food that they could hunt. In times when the wolves didn't lead them to food, the Makóyi Ótapi’sin would simply hunt the wolves instead. The Makóyi revered the wolves, believing that they knew everything about hunting and everything about war. In addition to their reverence for the wolves that they followed and hunted, they also respected the local bull elks. It is said that Makóyi men admired male bull elks for their ability to attract mates. Makóyi men would play a courting flute, imitating the bugling sound of elk due to the belief that it would attract women. Wolves and elks played a large part in the Makóyi's way of life, with elks being seen as a symbol of fertility, peace, and prosperity, and the wolf being a symbol of successful hunts, superior war strategies, and brotherhood. To the Makóyi, the sound of wolves howling in the distance while a hunting party was out searching for a game was seen as a sign that a fruitful hunt was on the horizon. Also central to the Makóyi's way of life was the hunting of American bison, which especially gained prevalence after the Makóyi were introduced to horses. In the American bison, the Makóyi found a valuable source of food, clothing, and leather to make their tipis. ‎Trade between the Makóyi and nearby tribes flourished for generations in their earliest years, as they forged bonds with numerous larger and more formidable tribes such as the Arapaho, Blackfoot, Gros Ventre, Wapiti, and Cree. The Makóyi often traded valuable furs and other items they had gathered with these allied tribes, exchanging them for wives, trinkets, and weapons. Everything changed however for the Makóyi in the early 1700s when they were first introduced to horses by the Blackfoot and Gros Ventre. It was then that the Makóyi first began emerging from their snow-capped sanctuaries of Mount Hagen and Grizzlies West, wandering onto the grasslands and forests of Big Valley and Tall Trees in search of new territory to conquer. As the generations went by, the tribe grew significantly, and so did their territory. For years, they fought against other tribes such as the Lakota and Cheyenne for control over the Great Plains, Tall Trees, and parts of Big Valley. The Makóyi would also often travel westward towards New Austin and Tahoma's surrounding states, where they would often find themselves in conflict with the Comanche, along with Pueblo nations such as the Navajo and Apache. It was during these trying years that a brutal warrior culture began to form within the Makóyi Ótapi’sin, allowing them to stand up to their much larger enemies despite their tribe's smaller size. Eventually, the Makóyi people carved out a sizeable swathe of land across the Plains and even into the forested regions of Tall Trees. They were feared by lesser tribes in the area and hated by the more significantly larger tribes for their ruthless approach to warfare. During these raids, they'd often take weapons, horses, and food from enemy villages, along with a commodity that they saw as most valuable and a key to their growth, women. Captured women from rival tribes were more often than not taken as wives. Male captives, along with the offspring of captive women, were often killed. Children were occasionally also accepted into the Makóyi as members, usually after they were adopted into a family. However, this was only the case when it came to the children of captive Native women, as the children of captured white settlers were often killed, along with the parents themselves. Early French explorers documented the Wolf People as being highly superstitious, skillful horsemen and bowmen, along with having complete animosity for anybody who wasn't like them. However, there are two sides to every story, and it is said that the Makóyi once welcomed European explorers into their village, only for two of their women to be kidnapped by the Europeans when they left. They were later sent back with gifts, many of which were welcome. But there was one unwelcome gift from the Europeans that caused the Makóyi to become extremely hostile. The girls who returned to their families died shortly after due to having caught smallpox from their captors, which they had never experienced before. Almost an entire Makóyi band died within two months. This made the tribe completely close themselves off from any further visits from white settlers and instead attacked them viciously when they showed up, as the Makóyi believed that the explorers had intentionally cursed them. As a result, the next time the Makóyi were visited by explorers, they were greeted with arrows and war whoops. They fought a brutal war against the French colonists shortly after they arrived in Tahoma, but there were also brief moments of trade. The French attempted to ally with the Makóyi shortly before the French-Indian War of 1754, but the Wolf People were said to have denied their offer with a hail of arrows and gunfire. The Makóyi had made their stance clear, and it was that they wouldn't take a side in the coming war between the French and the British but would instead defend their territory from the incursions of both. They fought a war that was characterized by guerilla warfare and swift unexpected attacks until 1755 when a brief truce was reached. But tensions once again escalated a year later in 1756 when the French encroached deeper into the Makóyi's lands, marking the start of a seven-year war. Continued skirmishes and attacks continued between the French, their allies, and the Makóyi for the next few decades until the year 1803, in which the state of Tahoma was sold to the United States, leading to a very brief period of peace. The Makóyi tribe engaged in trade with the white settlers at first but remained highly superstitious and distrustful of them. They traded their fur coats, horses, and other valuables for weapons, ammunition, slaves, and other commodities. Some Makóyi took up a trade in slave catching, working for the white man to apprehend and return escaped slaves. Their proficiency in slave catching and a desire to avoid losing one of their most profitable ventures, but also all of their slaves, caused the Makóyi to join in on the American Civil War on the side of the confederates. However, shortly after the end of the Civil War in 1865, the Wolf People tribe began to rebel against the white settlers almost immediately, raiding settlements and ambushing travelers, soldiers, and stagecoaches alike as they traveled through their territory. Makóyi aggression in Grizzles West and West Elizabeth became especially prevalent after the 1876 Battle of Little Bighorn, where the Lakota, along with their Arapaho and Cheyenne allies, defeated General Custer. Emboldened by the actions of their Arapaho allies and their coalition, the Makóyi and their coalition launched an attack on the Fort Riggs Holding Camp to drive the U.S. Cavalry out just a few months later. Although the battle was almost won, the Makóyi took too many losses and soon had to flee back into the wilderness. A few months after the attack on Fort Riggs, the United States declared war on the Makóyi, causing a bloody decade-long war that, much like their war with the French, was characterized by random attacks and ambushes. By 1887, the Wolf People's various subtribes had been almost decimated by years of war, disease, and other factors. They officially surrendered in 1891 after many of their warriors had been killed. Their elderly, women, remaining warriors, and children were subsequently herded up to a reservation where they were forced to stay. The Makóyi tribe was further punished throughout the 1890s following a series of attacks, mostly on workers and builders who were said to have been building a reservation school. The most notorious incident took place in 1896 when a man was found disemboweled, dismembered, and scalped a few miles away from the Makóyi's sacred Mount Hagen. The man was said to have been murdered by a small group of Makóyi tribespeople who were disgruntled with the idea of allowing the white man to take their children. As a result of this, more of the tribe's people were taken. Some were killed and buried in shallow graves, and others had their children stolen from them and forced into reservation schools. As of 1900, the Makóyi Confederacy is not what it used to be. Many of their once large bands were now forced onto reservations after their long, drawn-out war was lost. Presently, only one nomadic group remains free. Despite having surrendered to the United States Cavalry in 1891, a band known as Iksim Ómahksíkimi (or Secret Lake Makóyi) fled the reservation that they were confined to eight years later. The Iksim Ómahksíkimi now hide on the fringes of society, attempting to avoid the United States Cavalry and the Bureau of Indian Affairs as they try to maintain their nomadic lifestyle once more, all while attempting to elude the BIA and the U.S. Cavalry. Their resistance against assimilation into their enemies' society has caused the Secret Lake Makóyi to often be referred to as the Outlaw Makóyi, a term that they have wholly embraced as a result of criminality, alcoholism, and depression sweeping through their once proud ranks like a plague. The fact that they are considered enemies of the state has caused the Makóyi Confederacy to adapt their stance and become more isolated than ever before, greatly straining their relationships with traders, with the most notable incident occurring in the late March of 1900 when a Shoshone trader was taken hostage by the Makóyi after she was accused of cursing the tribe by bringing a white woman to their village. The woman's captivity only ended when the brother of the captured woman challenged Rode the Enemy's Horse, the Secret Lake Makóyi's chieftain, to a duel. A duel that almost resulted in his death. News of the kidnapping caused a stir in the state of Tahoma, with marshals and Indian Affairs now attempting to track the tribe more than they had before. The Secret Lake Makóyi were forced to flee from the mountains of Northwestern Ambarino, at least for the time being. They were forced to take refuge far from their traditional lands. While the woman was released alive shortly after the tribe fled Mount Hagen, the consequences of their actions dealt a significant blow to the tribe. They had not only heightened their exposure to U.S. Marshals and Indian Affairs but had lost a valued trader to their superstitions. The tribe's future has been even further jeopardized with the disappearance of their warrior society leader Kills Quietly, after she shot and critically injured the brother of the Shoshone captive in the aftermath of the very duel that the chieftain almost died in. Subtribes Of The Makóyi Confederacy The Secret Lake People (Iksim Ómahksíkimi) The Iksim Ómahksíkimi (Secret Lake People), also sometimes referred to as the Outlaw Makóyi is the fourth sub-tribe of the Makoyi confederacy, and while they are thought to have been the most recently formed band, having only taken root in Tahoma roughly two centuries before the arrival of European Settlers to the region, they are also the most vicious. They have long been referred to by their arch-nemesis the Lakota as Wéípuza Puŋpúŋnaǧí meaning 'Bloodthirsty, Rotten Soul". A reference to the sub-tribe's vicious, unforgiving nature. They were especially feared and reviled by the Lakota's Big Valley subtribe, the Wanžila Lakota, who have told stories of Iksim Ómahksíkimi raids where entire villages were razed to the ground in raids by the Iksim Ómahksíkimi with the intentions of kidnapping Lakota women. Many of the Lakota women captured by the Iksim Ómahksíkimi were never seen again, giving the Lakota the impression that the Iksim Ómahksíkimi had killed them. This particular tribe is said to have first emerged in the Tall Trees region of Tahoma several centuries ago as a small, obscure tribe that originated along a lake hidden deep in the heart of Tall Trees. The lake, which later became known to the white man as Aurora Basin became the subtribe's namesake. It is believed that the Iksim Ómahksíkimi were not originally a Makoyi sub-tribe, but soon met the Makoyi and very quickly became part of the Makóyi Confederacy. It is said that a group of elders from the Risng Mountain People met with the chiefs of the ragtag tribe and initiated them in to the Makóyi, bestowing upon them the name Iksim Ómahksíkimi (Secret Lake People) for their secretive nature and their reverence for the great lake that they were often found camped along. ‎ The Iksim Ómahksíkimi accepted their invitation in to the ranks of the Makóyi Confederacy with immense pride and within a decade had already adopted the worship of all of the Makóyi Confederacy's gods and had completely adopted their language. The Iksim Ómahksíkimi are also known to have been the first Makóyi subtribe that French explorers came across, and it was two Iksim Ómahksíkimi women that the French had kidnapped and later returned with gifts. The encounters between the French explorers and the Iksim Ómahksíkimi gave rise to the explorers' descriptions of the Makoyi as being highly superstitious, violent and hateful towards anybody who wasn't like them. Currently as of 1900, the Secret lake People are the last free Makoyi sub-tribe to exist in the wilderness of Tahoma, with many of their former brothers-in-arms confined to reservations, the Secret Lake People had become extremely restless. They left their reservation in 1998 after the sub-tribe's current chief, Aawohkitopi or Chief Who Rode The Enemy's Horse encouraged his people to follow him off of the so called 'wall-less prison' that they had been confined to. The Elk Face People (Ponokáísski) The Ponokáísski (Elk Face People) are the third sub-tribe of the Makóyi Confederacy. They were known to have inhabited the vast expanse of Big Valley in Tahoma's West Elizabeth County for generations. They were said to have emerged as a Makóyi sub-tribe in the late 1500s when the Makóyi had just begun to slowly expand south from their mountainous sanctuaries of Grizzlies West and Mount Hagen. The Ponokáísski had always been in the Big Valley area, and like the Iksim Ómahksíkimi had their roots as an obscure, Algonquian-language-speaking tribe that inhabited the woodlands and grasslands of Big Valley. Their first encounters with the Makóyi Confederacy were marked by curiosity and a strange sense of familiarity. Stories tell of meetings between the two groups, where the Makóyi's two already existing sub-tribes came across the small ragtag tribe that would later become known as the Ponokáísski. These encounters were marked mostly by trade and the sharing of stories around campfires, but as the Makóyi told more of their stories to the obscure band of tribespeople, the small group of Algonquian speakers soon found themselves wanting to become part of the Makóyi Confederacy, and a few weeks later, they did. Offerings of sweetgrass and tobacco were given at a sacred fire as the Makóyi Confederacy's chiefs initiated the chiefs of the newly formed Ponokáísski sub-tribe. The tribe was given the name Elk Face People as a reference to the large Bull Elks that populated their territory and were often hunted by them. Within a few years of joining the Makóyi Confederacy the Ponokáísski had become a force to be reckoned with in their own right, known for having the most fearless warriors and the most disciplined warrior societies. They were among the most steadfast fighters during the wars against the French and White colonists and their brutality was only topped by that of the Iksim Ómahksíkimi. ‎ Ancient tales also tell of the Ponokáísski having been the first Makóyi tribe to take up skinwalking due to the vastness of Big Valley. It's said that the Ponokáísski's medicine men and women were often unable to travel the long distances required to treat their fellow tribespeople's ailments, and so they sought out the power of the Elk, adopting its visage as their own and performing rituals to give them the powers of shape-shifting. It was later said to have been the Ponokáísski who taught the art of the skinwalker medicine person to the rest of the Makóyi's sub-tribes. As a result, the Ponokáísski are believed to have always had the strongest medicine of all of the Makóyi, revered for their prowess as mystics, shamans and prophets. The Ponokáísski and their mystical ways were instrumental to the Makoyi's war effort during the fighting with the white man that took place between 1876 and 1891, but like many other sub-tribes of the Makoyi, they soon surrendered along with the rest of the Makoyi's subtribes, where they were herded to a reservation. The war against the white man took a great toll on the Ponokáísski. The sub-tribe was almost completely decimated during the chaos of warfare. They still live, but are mostly confine to reservations, with only a few of the Ponokáísski's men and women daring to venture out of the reservation to seek out the Secret Lake People, the only 'free' Makoyi subtribe. Although many Ponokáísski have become content with their confinement, others yearn for the freedom that their people once enjoyed and seek to join the people of the Secret Lake in their resistance. The Big Coyote People (Ómahkapi’siiksi) The Ómahkapi’siiksi (Big Coyote People) are native to the rugged, rocky regions of Grizzlies West. Unlike the Ponokáísski and Iksim Ómahksíkimi, the Big Coyote People did not have roots as a small, obscure tribe, and were the second among the original two subtribes of the Makoyi Confederacy. Their name, Big Coyote People is a reference to the large Timber Wolves that the Ómahkapi’siiksi once followed through the rugged terrain of the Western Grizzlies, the particular breed of Wolves that the Ómahkapi’siiksi would often follow were called Big Coyotes in the Makoyi's ancient language, and so the name stuck. It is not known when the adopted the name Big Coyote People, but it is believed that they adopted it during a migration from Mount Hagen by a large group of Makoyi who would later go on to become a seperate subtribe. The Big Coyotes are well known for their prowess in hunting, horsemanship and warfare, but were most known for having slightly different beliefs when it came to animals as opposed to the beliefs of other Makoyi subtribes. For example, while most Makoyi subtribes consider Coyotes to be evil, the Ómahkapi’siiksi are known to revere them just as much as they revere their sacred Timber Wolves. They believe Coyotes to be messengers from the spirit realm, capable of trickery, but also capable of imparting great wisdom to those who dare to listen, and although their main holy animal is the Timber Wolf, the Coyote holds a special place in Ómahkapi’siiksi culture, revered as the younger brothers of the much larger Timber Wolves, as opposed to being seen as a different species of animal. It is believed to have been their reverence for Coyotes that caused the Ómahkapi’siiksi to begin referring to the Timber Wolves that they followed as Big Coyotes. As of 1900, the Ómahkapi’siiksi too are confined to a reservation, which they share with the other two remaining Makoyi bands. Trapped on the reservation, the Ómahkapi’siiksi have lost much of the knowledge of the lands that they once possessed, the once proud and large sized sub-tribe having been reduced to a shell of its former self. Despite this, some Ómahkapi’siiksi also sneak off the reservation, seeking a life in the wilderness, inspired by the Secret Lake People's open defiance. Though, many are too afraid to leave the reservation due to the Ómahkapi’siiksi having caught the brunt of many of the massacres and war crimes that the United States Cavalry had to offer due to being the most populated subtribe. The Rising Mountain People (Makoyópowáóowahsin) The Rising Mountain People (Makoyópowáóowahsin in the Makoyi tongue) are known to have been the originators of the Makoyi Confederacy. They were survivalists, living in the harsh wilderness of Mount Hagen and the snowy mountains that stretched miles off to the north. Legend has it that the Makoyópowáóowahsin followed a vast pack of wolves to the wilderness of Tahoma many years ago, believing that their creator had sent the pack of wolves to guide them to their new home. For centuries they lived amongst the mountains, following the howls and snarls of the wolves that they revered as their guardians and brothers so that they could hunt the animals that they were led to. The origins of the Makoyópowáóowahsin are for the most part unknown, as much of the tribe's knowledge had also been lost in the decades leading up to the year 1900, but it is believed that the Makoyópowáóowahsin arrived in Tahoma from the Great Lakes region. Once members of the Siksika tribe, the men and women one day would become the Makoyópowáóowahsin were said to split off from their fellow Algonquians for reasons that have been lost to time. It is said that they then made the long journey south in search of new lands and were said to have arrived in Tahoma at some point during the 13th century. Those earliest days however have long been forgotten. Makoyópowáóowahsin eventually shed the Blackfoot's language, forming their own language that while similar, had its own unique characteristics, with various words sounding similar but now having different meanings. Despite having split off from the Blackfoot centuries ago, the Makoyópowáóowahsin maintained a traditional alliance with the Siksika and the greater Blackfoot Confederacy. It was the Blackfoot who first introduced the Makoyópowáóowahsin to horses during the early 17th century, allowing the Makoyi to further expand their influence throughout Tahoma. With the help of the Big Coyotes, the Makoyópowáóowahsin forged a vast empire that stretched from the northernmost peak of Tahoma's mountains all the way to Tall Trees and the Great Plains. This empire became what is now known as the Makoyi Confederacy, the Makoyi Otapi'sin or Wolf People. The Rising Mountain People were also instrumental in sealing alliances with other tribes, such as the Blackfoot, Arapaho, Wapiti and others. It was through these alliances that the Makoyi grew so fast as the centuries passed, due to the fact that the aforementioned tribes would often gift wives to them. As of 1900, the Makoyópowáóowahsin is almost an extinct subtribe. Having been almost completely decimated, they toil away on the reservation with the Big Coyote People and Elk Face People. Some Makoyópowáóowahsin have followed the Iksim Ómahksíkimi off the reservation and occasionally accompany them. Though many still remain hesitant, some have even grown content with being on a reservation despite still having an intense hatred for the Europeans who stole their land and culture from them.

During the height of the U.S.-Mexico relations under the Porfiriato, a single deal between the American Government and local landowners in the borderlands of Mexico would lead to the formation of a ramshackle band of rogues and ruffians of all sorts. In 1887, a large haul of gold bars approximating to about two-million US Dollars in worth was being transported to the prosperous city of Monterrey by way of Monclova in Coahuila de Zaragoza. This information, however, reached an individual whose greed would change much. Ramiro Narváez, a military captain of the local Cavalry Regiment and son of a local land-owner, used this information to try and make it big on persuasion of his maternal cousin, Vasco Pedrosa. The two, alongside close friend Eleodoro Zúñiga, as well as some of Ramiro's sub-officers and soldiers attempted to stage an accident for this train as it was planned to come through. A small trading post along the rail lines, known as San Juan, was set ablaze by the avaricious Captain and used as a roadblock to stop the train. However, no sooner had they overtaken the train that the real plot was made clear to them. The train was meant to be robbed, but not by them. The Federal official who had slipped Ramiro the information in the first place in return for payment, instead alerted the military who rushed in force to protect the American gold and avoid an international incident from further escalation. In the conflict, several close comrades of the trio were slain or captured. Ramiro, Vasco and Eleodoro fled north across the border before the news reached American troops, pretending to be rail workers to gain entry. Once past, they continued on their roguish activities for some time.. In 1889, Eleodoro avoided detection as both Vasco and Ramiro were caught and arrested separately, though found themselves together again in Sisika Penitentiary, nestled on an island on the Lannahechee River. With countless charges against the two, freedom became a fantasy and although neither a hangman nor a firing squad would claim their souls, it seemed that they were meant to live out destitute lives behind the sordid and swampy cells of Sisika. That is until, a storm rushed over. On April 26th, 1900, a heavy rainstorm gave the perfect cover for the Sisika Eight to escape from the prison. Among them included the two cousins from Coahuila de Zaragoza. Whether due to desperation or due to destiny, two more prisoners, Ray Carter, an Alabama-born African-American, as well as New Mexico-born Apache known as 'Dark Eyes' or Ojos Oscuros tagged along in the chaos of the storm, fleeing through the swamps of Bayou Nwa and through Roanoke Ridge, until they reached some semblance of safety initially at Annesburg. From there, horses were stolen, so were clothes and on the way, even robberies were committed in order to secure themselves with weaponry and wealth. With arms to secure their freedom, the criminal quartet escaped deeper into the South-West, slipping through Blackwater and then further beyond, to the shelter and solace of safety from the hand of the law.. (made by @iaduj16)

First ever couple on Faces of South Tahoma - AND soon to be MARRIED! 💍 Meet Clayton Revoire & Nettie May aka @Dougie @cicurate. Reputable throughout the Heartlands - The family of Revoire Ranch; humble, hard-nosed and ambitious. Head of the house; Clayton Revoire, the epitome of a ranching, family man. Along side his wildcard, bride-to-be, Nettie May. The eldest sibling of the well known May family, who brings the warmth and tough-loving nature to the quickly growing Revoire family.

Farmer gal Edith Criddley as she'd probably look at you if you passed her on the street of town. She looks mortified most of the time, however, she doesn't stay far from a fight - heck, she even likes to slam and kick when she gets the chance. @Crocs

The Mild Bunch, also known as the Ten Cent Men is a loosely organized outlaw gang operating throughout the state of Tahoma. The so-far unknown criminals gained the name "The Mild Bunch" due to taking a particular disinterest in highway robberies and gaining infamy and notoriety, while opting to target company men and the well-heeled people of the state. The gang came to public attention after an armored wagon owned by the Lemoyne National Bank was hit on the Lemoyne county line during a routine delivery. The guardsmen who were tasked to protect the wagon were found shot dead underneath a bridge nearby Dewberry Creek, while the armored wagon and it's contents are still missing. Famed United States Marshal Sherman Hensley was unavailable to comment on the situation when asked by Tahoma Times, as he was too busy composing a telegram while the phone line within the state building was occupied after a hot air balloon made an emergency landing on their backyard. OOC INFORMATION Hi. We're portraying a rugged bunch of outlaws that prioritize quality roleplay and character development over slow-burn highway robberies that devolve into turn and burn deathmatches after being tracked down by bloodhounds. Although it graces us with beautiful shootout clips that are popular among our family and friends and it produces great intellectual discussions among our roleplayer peers, we try to steer clear from it as best as we can because I personally am pretty bad at gunfighting in this game. Instead, we aim to take it as far as we can while providing some quality time and story telling to ourselves first and foremost and then the wider circle of the server. Characters wearing the Reverend beard need not apply because it looks very goofy. In fact nobody needs to apply, since the recruitment's completely done in character, if we need to add more ruffians to our ranks. You can still DM me on the forums or the discord with any questions and concerns and talk about getting involved or if you want to play Helldivers 2. When joining the faction, you're not surrendering any rights to us because we expect you to be mature about taking losses if it comes to it, and you probably won't be getting in if that isn't right with you anyhow. Please don't metagame any information you see on this thread, even though I know some of you probably will.

The Wapiti (or "Elk People" as the name loosely translates) are a Native tribe indigenous to the State of Tahoma. The Wapiti have spent the entirety of their known existence exclusively within the lands that make up Tahoma, opposed to arriving in the present-day state through migration and displacement like other tribes. It is believed that long before contact with European explorers and non-Native people, the Wapiti originated from one of the most dominant indigenous groups in North America. The spoken language of the Wapiti belongs to the Siouan language group, with a majority of their tribal practices and spirituality closely resembling those tribes who branched from this particular group. The core of Wapiti spirituality is centered around two concepts - the sun God known as “Sacred Fire” and the creator known as “Great Spirit.” Variations of the creation story all differ between bands of the Wapiti, but the underlying tone remains the same. Great Spirit created the Earth, named Turtle Island in Wapiti tongue, and all aspects of the natural world. In the beginning there were no people to inhabit this world he created, so he would make some. However he was missing one crucial ingredient needed to sustain man: fire. The gift of fire was bestowed to Great Spirit by Sacred Fire, and around its flames he built a hearth made of mountains. From the clay of the terrains he created, Great Spirit molded the figures of man and baked them in his hearth of life. The clay figures emerged from the hearth in a variety of tones and colors, many of them selfishly turning their back on the one who gave them life. However a red figure stood before him, gracious for the precious gift he was given. This figure was the first Indian. The sun is revered as the lifeforce which gives energy to all life. As such, all of the living creatures on Earth who require the sun to survive are forever bound to exist in a harmonious nature. The sun could both reward and punish, giving a bountiful harvest but also lashing out with droughts, thus creating a culture of respect. Wapiti tribesmen and women pray to Sacred Fire and the star people who exist in the night sky, giving offerings of tobacco and sage to pay tribute. The ancestral lands of the Wapiti span from the vast plains of The Heartlands where they originated, to the whispering tranquility of Cumberland forest, with traces of the tribe's artefacts being found as far away as West Elizabeth. In the height of their dominance, the Wapiti tribe lived a semi-sedentary lifestyle tethered to the surrounding game populations. Bison were frequently hunted by parties of Wapiti tribesmen, providing a fruitful source of sustenance which could be utilized for clothing, meals, and weaponry. Abundant game is a trait which still describes present day Tahoma, and in the days before settlers this was even more apparent. However above all the wildlife which were admired and utilized by the tribe, the elk reigned supreme. The elk is a revered creature across all bands of the Wapiti, admired for their graceful nature and enduring strength. Their majestic presence in the forests symbolizes resilience and harmony with nature, embodying the spiritual connection that the tribe holds dear. The Wapiti people often tell stories of the elk's role in their cultural mythology, depicting these noble creatures as guardians of the land and messengers of wisdom. They believe that the elk's spirit guides them in times of challenge, teaching them about perseverance and the interconnectedness of all living beings in the natural world. As a young tribesman graduates from boyhood to manhood, the tribe conducts a ceremony where a headdress fashioned from parts of an elk is placed upon the youth’s head and elder members dance and sing in a circle surrounding them. Similarly, the Wapiti warriors during their trials would often be tasked with conquering a bull elk using primitive forms of weaponry to prove their keen skill of the hunt. Medicine men, priests, and figures of significance within the tribe will often carry with them tools and artefacts made from the hide and antlers of elk - including the peace pipe which is fashioned from polished and decorated horn. The Wapiti tribe experienced a turbulent period throughout the 19th century. Establishment of towns in New Hanover, in particular Valentine, caused significant warfare between Natives, settlers, and the army. The plot of land prior to white settlers was inhabited by the Wapiti of Dakota River, or “Sat-By-Water” as their band is known in Wapiti tongue. As settlers slowly encroached on the surrounding lands, tensions mounted and boiled over into bloodshed. The Wapiti Massacre of 1815 left an entire tribal encampment demolished and many men, women, and children slaughtered. The remnants of the band were displaced from where they once called home, and consequently the town of Valentine was constructed on the footprint of a bloody battle. Turmoil continued throughout the latter half of the 19th century, pitting the Wapiti warriors and their tribal allies (in particular the Makóyi) versus the US cavalry, with one of the last known conflicts occurring between the years 1886 and 1891. The strength of the United States became unshakable to the dwindling number of braves which ultimately caused the tribe’s surrender and signaled an end of the Indian Wars in Tahoma. Bands were rounded up in a four year span in the years 1892 to 1896. As of the year 1899, all bands of the Wapiti had been confined in the reservation system as a result of warfare and assimilation policies. Children are educated on white society and Christianity in reservation schools, stripping their tribal identities and handing them English names. However, one particular band became overtly resistant despite the domineering forces of the United States government. The Western Wapiti, or “Tree Whisper People,” sought to escape the Ambarino Wapiti Indian Reservation in the wake of the twentieth century and continue the battle to maintain their traditions. This band was often referred to as the “Wapiti Resistance.” Bands of the Wapiti include: Tree Whisper People (Western Wapiti) Sat-By-Water (Wapiti of Dakota River/Cumberland Forest) Horses of the Plains (Heartlands Wapiti)

Howdy, South Tahomies. Well, it's been 83 days since our last Newsletter - so somebody must be slacking (it's definitely not me). The truth of the matter is that South Tahoma RP has been on quite the rollercoaster since our previous newsletter, and there's some exciting things on the horizon. We've completed the initial stages of our development turnaround, allowing for our lovely developer team to have a proper workflow and organised workspace; all headed by freshly minted Lead Developer @Karner, who has been absolutely instrumental in this process. We'll go into some more thorough detail about the chages this later on. Additionally, we've seen New Austin garner some support and interest, the Carcano Rifle & Rolling Block Rifle removal, the introduction of a new railway script, and an absolute plethora of bug fixes that have been plaguing the server for quite some time. As well as all that lovely stuff, it just happens to be our Anniversary real soon... So without any further adu, let's get into this. Well, folks - we made it! Later this month, specifically June 16th, South Tahoma Roleplay will be celebrating it's one year anniversary. Since our launch, we've had over 5,800 Whitelists to the project, we've seen an abundance of staff and players come and go, we've seen immense progress on the development side of things as the project finds its footing, and of course - we've seen some incredible roleplay from you guys. It's been quite the journey over the course of the last year, and of course - not without it's difficulties. Way back when, Bill & Co. were taking a huge gamble by developing a text roleplay project while the space was already preoccupied; but through determination, a metric tonne of dedicated hours and manpower, and a team of likeminded individuals who saw a passion project and wanted to forge it into the premier space for Red Dead Redemption text roleplay, here we are now. We've had some bumps in the road in about every arena you can image - rules, staff, management, decisions, changes, development - you name it, we've probably tackled it; but ultimately, we're immensley proud of the project and how far we've come since last year. We'll continue at it, working at everything we can, and striving to maintain our place as the top spot for text roleplay in this space. While we can't promise you perfection, we'll ensure we're doing our best to achieve a friendly, fun & safe roleplaying space for y'all! Cheers to South Tahoma! 40% OFF TRAILBLAZER PACKAGES, USE CODE "ANNIVERSARY" As a thank you to our lovely community, we're offering 40% Off our Trailblazer package, which you can grab on our shiny new Tebex page, listed just below. This donation package allows you to grab the Trailblazer & Contributor Discord role, some second chance gold if you want to make some last minute adjustments, access to exclusive pets - the entire range, including birds, dogs and critters, access to the various hot air baloons around the map, and a custom P.O. box for your incoming and outgoing telegraphs! GRAB A TRAILBLAZERPACKAGE HERE Please note that all donation packages attract a Tebex Tax, and are on amonthly subscription basis. Need help cancelling? Open a ticket! BUG FIXES It's only right that we open up this newsletter with the bug fixes that @Karner & company have been working tirelessly towards over the course of the last few weeks. We've even managed to tackle some long-standing bugs that have been a pain in our backside for months on end. You can find a full list of everything we've tackled in our server changelog, if you wish. Karner has asked us to publish a little something-something from the Development corner of the project to the community, too, so do have a read of this as well! We're very thankful to the manpower that Karner has taken and put into South Tahoma Roleplay, and we look forward to what the future holds! "Hey guys, I want to throw a big thank you for everyone for submitting bug tickets and being patient with the development team. Between config and balance changes from @Bailey and @MEATLOAF; furniture and mapping additions from @Dark_Knight; and UI improvements from @Bill and general bug fixing and development input from the team we've managed to form quite a good team cohesion which will hopefully bear more fruit in the near future. I want to be transparent about the near future. We are working on what's called a hardening period. This is where we focus on bug fixes and improving existing code to be a stronger foundation for future features. New features will come but we are going to be a bit more careful with their implementation. This may be through a stricter versioning system or through testing scripts with a small dedicated testing team." - KARNER Fixed: Issue with teeth not appearing as they should be. Fixed: a multitude of typos on the titles and descriptions menu's across the server. Fixed: Bandages. They are now functional. Fixed: Issue where players could intermittently use the gunslinger duel wield permissions. Fixed: Issue where horses would not flee correctly when entering & existing interiors. Fixed: Issue where the wheel repair minigame images were not loading correctly. Fixed: Issue where the horseshoe fixing minigame images were not loading correctly. Fixed: Issue where players could inject HTML into the chatbox. Fixed: /cme, /cmelong, & /my now populate the masked name as intended. Fixed: Doctor's can now access the Doctor's wagon. Fixed: Fence's being able to craft smoke bombs. Fixed: Various cameras for Tailors, Makeup & Second Chance across the map. Fixed: Pinboards now populate from the latest post, rather than the oldest. Fixed: Mining & Lumber wagons now are fix for purpose, and are better-for-purpose than a normal wagon via storage. Fixed: Minor issues with the emote wheel & clothing options in the F6 menu. Fixed: /myhours now populates hours, not minutes. Fixed: Issue where if you logged out within a specific timeframe without logging back in your character's spawn position would be that of the character selection screen. Fixed: Issue where you couldn't refill a weapon slot after logging out. You can also check out the server github webhook, for a full list of changes since our last newsletter! GOODBYE, CARCANO RIFLE & ROLLING BLOCK RIFLE In what we are sure will be a controversial move, the Senior Administration of STRP have made the decision to remove the Carcano Rifle and Rolling Block Rifle from our server entirely. For months, we have attempted to balance these weapons; but the unfortunate reality is that RedM only allows us to control certain aspects of a weapon's performance - and the traits of the CR/RBR that we wanted to tackle, we simply could not. As a result, as of 31st May 2024, the weapons have been removed. You can refund your CR/RBR at ingame blips called Weapon Disposal Point for a refund - please note this will only refund the stock price, and will not refund any customisation elements. The weapon is now unequippable, and just incase anybody slides past that; it also does 0.01% of the damage it used to do! At long last, we've finally updated our Rail script. With this, players have the potential to buy and resell trainers, a bespoke announcement system for the railway company is here; and members of the railway faction can upgrade, assign, manage coal & water, maintain, and travel with much more user accessibility. You can now control the speed and direction of your train, utilising cruise control; and even switch direction if you intend to travel eastbound or westbound. Most of all, this new script comes with missions, in the form of deliveries; the maintanance of the tracks and transporting NPC's from point A to B. Finally, in what is perhaps the most important element, trains are now fully optimized, and networked; meaning there should be a lot less latency and sync issues for all those involved! We've completely revamped the way food & drink works in South Tahoma roleplay, with the addition of the cook book. This new crafting book contains over 50+ recipes, and we've coupled it along with redesigning some of the values that your character will receive upon consuming these scrumptious goods. You'll now find that more complex recipes are more beneficial to your wellbeing, and may come with more 'charges', meaning you can chomp on them more than once. We've added a list of just some of the items we've added below! Drinks: Moonshine, Orange Juice, Wine, Brandy, Cognac, Mead, Cider & more! Food: Caramel Bar, Canitas, Chowder, Corned Beef & Cabbage, Pancakes, Fish Fillet, Doughnuts, Hamburger & more! Get yourself in game, and go find the rest! HORSE METABOLISM + NEW HORSE COATS Once again, thanks to @MEATLOAF, another 18 horse coats join the frey, along with a huge overhaul of the horse metabolism system; which is new to South Tahoma Roleplay. Have you ever wondered why your horse can make it from New Austin to Annesburg, and not really care much about the journey? Well, it's because we've been too nice to you - that's why! Horses will now get hungry and thirsty, and it's your job to keep them tended to - or you'll have to suffer the consequences of your horse either falling ill, or quite literally falling from underneath you. Keep an eye on your horse's wellbeing meters using the above interface! OUTFITS We've introduced two new outfit packs, courtesy of SireVLC, an external RedM developer & modder; which have added over 1,600 outfits for those who need some help with their 1900's fashion. You can access these outfit packs by using /outfitsmale and /outfitsfemale respectively. Remember, there's an abundance of other outfit packs too, including: /outfitsArmy, /outfitsDoctor, /outfitsGuarma, /outfitsSuits, /outfitsDresses, /outfitsPonchos, /outfitsMining, /outfitsLaw, /outfitsMexicans, /outfitsMob, /outfitsNative MLO's It's been a while! We've introduced some new MLO's in roleplay hotspots that allow players to interact with the world a little more. For those who don't know, an MLO is essentially a modded file that opens up a building that was previously just a doorway that your character would shamelessly faceplant. The following MLO's have since been added: Saint Denis Courthouse Tumbleweed STAFF UPDATE & PROMOTIONS As of this writing, the South Tahoma Staff Team have powered their way through 1,378 Whitelisted Job Applications and over 3,852 Discord Tickets. For a small team, we're excruciatingly proud of our staff for the willpower and sometimes sheer grit it requires to get through the day of ticket upon ticket upon ticket. Of course, that's not even counting care packages, in-game reports, heists & schemes, appeals and everything else too. A firm shoutout goes to the entire staff team for continuing to help run the show and commiting hours of tireless manpower to our little project. It's often said that Administration in an online video game is one of the most thankless roles, so we want to ensure that y'all receive a "thank you" from Management, at the very least. With that, let's crack on. Welcoming the following members to the Support Team: @kingmaker @Nadler @sheesh Be advised that Staff Applications are OPEN, if you're looking to be part of the team! See HERE! Congratulations to the following Staff members on their promotions: @Fowler promoted from General Administrator to Senior Administrator Fowler has been a member of South Tahoma Roleplay since day one, and since then, has worked tirelessly to balance an extremely demanding IRL work schedule with our project. Since returning to his staff duties full time, he has dedicated a surplus of his little free time to involving himself in reports, tickets and discussions, often without being asked to do so. His vigilant effort into the historics of 1900 and attitude towards nailing tickets in a timely manner has not gone unnoticed, and as such; we thank him for his efforts, and wish him well in this new role. @Bobocrunch promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator @Koko promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator @BebopMonk promoted from Junior Administrator to General Administrator @Vulcenus promoted from Junior Administrator to General Administrator @ToyYoda promoted from Junior Administrator to General Administrator MISCELLANEOUS ADDITIONS EVERYBODY DANCE NOW We've introduced a brand new script which actually lets you dance with another player, instead of both of the players in question trying to coordinace their dance emotes. You can initiate this dance by highlighting a player, and inviting them to dance with you. /CHANGECHAR Long awaited, you can now /changechar to bring yourself back to the character selection screen instead of having to quit out of the entirety of RedM, only to log back in to select a new character. This is an experimental feature; so please do report any bug you come across and we'll be sure to tackle them when we can. ANIMATIONS Thanks to @Dark_Knight, a tonne of animations have been added to the server. You'll have to brave the server changelog for a full list of changes, but here are two of the most recent ones! MINIGAMES You can now use /rps to play rock, paper, scissors - as well as using /rolldice [1-4] to roll some D6's! We've taken the liberty of showing you the results of your throw, too! OTHER Developer Applications Those rare diamonds that are able and willing to have a hand in the development of the South Tahoma Roleplay project now have the availability to do so. If you fancy your hand at LUA or JAVA, you can apply for our development team - we'd be happy to have you. Staff Applications We're on the hunt for dedicated individuals who can work in a team, and have a passion to take South Tahoma Roleplay to the next level. Bring your ideas out of the yapping headquarters of #general and into #staff-chat and apply for our staff team. SCREENSHOT SHOWCASE Warm regards, Community Management

Thank you to everyone that contributed to the faction, anyone that roleplayed with us or against us. We achieved more then we aimed for this, main thing was to show you all that not all outlaws are rule breaking shit RPers. Big shout out to the day ones from Valentine.

OOC: This faction aims to portray a unique adaptation of a singular Wapiti band - a fictional Native tribe which is an amalgamation of several Nations from the American Plains and Mountain regions. The theme of the faction draws heavy inspiration from the real life Apache Broncos, who continued their fight into the 1920s. We will begin on the reservation and eventually leave through in-character means, building a story along the way. We have chosen the route of a fictional band to allow for more freedom in our in-character actions, as well as to not disrespect any real-life tribes whose fight had ended at this point in history. That said, we recognize and empathize with the plight of Native Americans in the 19th and 20th century, as well as the modern struggles that face many great Tribal Nations today. Focus will always be placed on a tasteful representation and plenty of passive interactions, with violence and aggression taking more of an underlying tone that drives the narrative of the faction. For inquiries related to the faction, reach out to .glassonion on discord.

Little Creek Ranch is a burgeoning cattle ranch located in Big Valley, West Elizabeth. It's named after the creek that trickles down from the Grizzly Mountains down through the valley, feeding the fertile pastures before spilling into the Dakota river. One of Tahoma's frontiers, the area is considered an intimidating place to settle and rear livestock, given the abundance of predators - wolves, grizzlies and the occasional cougar make the region a dangerous place to do business. Despite this and its comparable lack of infrastructure it sits on the only range-land north of the lower Montana river & west of the Dakota river, with close proximity to the town of Strawberry. Little Creek has had a history of being taken up and abandoned; from the challenges of the West Elizabeth insurrection that marred the county to the difficulty of life in such a climate. None the less any astute rancher would likely see the potential of the range-land - if fortune and determination could see them through the seasons in such a place. Under its current management the ranch is predominantly focused on the pasturing of cattle for beef commercially. Other ventures are possible to pursue in the realm of homesteading and modest business opportunities but cattle-ranching is the primary, driving, focus of Little Creek Ranch. What's your deal? How can I get involved? Anything else I should know?

A native Texan, Nathan aka @souti cut his teeth as a drifter and petty thief on the open plains of New Austin. He'd crossed over fresh from the neighboring state, but law-abiding never suited him, especially not the kind that came with a badge. Even as a Tahoma Ranger and later as a hired hand under Sheriff Donald Hays of Armadillo, his loyalty was always more to himself than to any oath. Yet, fate had other plans. When his brother’s badge fell vacant in New Hanover, Nathan found himself elected sheriff. Quickly, he became both a symbol of law enforcement across Tahoma and the scourge of every thief fool enough to cross him. His office, some said, bore the makings of an outlaw gang itself. For Nathan, the badge never came with the burden of following every rule, and it likely never would.

Howdy, South Tahomies. As you know from our previous newsletter, our upper Management and Development teams are currently neck deep in reconstructing some of the core 'RDR experience' scripts from the ground up in an effort to begin to stray away from 3rd party scripts, and move towards inhouse scripts that we fully control. Since that newsletter, we've made huge progress in developing our Administration Script (strp_admin), Chat Script (strp_chat), and Factions Script (strp_societies). We've always been excruciatingly transparent with the community regarding the development scene of STRP & RedM at large; and just wanted to assure you we're making strides quietly behind the scenes. While our heavier handed (more talented and competent) developers are getting to grips with core scripts; we're also springboarding some side projects such as the Weapon Balance Overhaul, and a distant Soft Economy Overhaul. We're using the knowledge that we've amassed over the last 400+ days of the STRP project's existence to try and better align the expectations of the playerbase as it pertains to roleplay first, and everything else second to do this. As always, these overhauls will be community led, and we encourage you to pick up the Tester Role in this channel to help us test changes. South Tahoma Roleplay's Direction This thread, which has collected over 4,500 views and 150 replies sparked a conversation amongst the Administration as it pertains to the 'identity' of South Tahoma RP. We're referring to the community brand that we're striving to forge, and the direction of roleplay that we're aiming to facilitate. We're observant enough to determine that there's a cauldron of roleplayers in our community. We have some who are commited to the historical era in its absolution, and wish to portray everything with a realism-first attitude, and some who are (slightly) more fantastical in their roleplay; who wish to roleplay a more 'Hollywood Wild West' experience whilst sacrificing some elements of the 1900 experience. We're going to take some time to discuss the 'direction' of the project as it pertains to the roleplay experience, but for now we can tell you candidly that there is no hard reset in sight - right now this is considered, internally, as a 'Hail Mary' effort to revive a dead playerbase; and we're still kicking, y'know? Community Identity One thing we've noticed is that even though we've accepted 111 Whitelists over the last 60 days, our player count remains rather stagnant. Now, there's probably a rather sizeable cooking pot of reasons for this - whether it be technical issues, school, family, university or just the RedM experience being so janky that people don't know what they're getting into; but we'd like to focus on our Community Identity in this post. Our Discord is a tool that we decided to make a community 'frontpage' fairly early on. Allowing the STRP playerbase to communicate OOCly and generally just 'hang on' is something that is to be expected of most (if not all) gaming communities, however this comes with some fairly basic social expectations that aren't really being met in recent cases. Our most basic Discord & Forum Rule is: Be Respectful Community Members are expected to act with respect and civility to other members of the South Tahoma Community at all times. This means no mean, rude or harassing comments. Simply treat others the way in which you wish to be treated, to put it simply. Admins-a-plenty have seen dogpiling, targetted "playful" harassment of players that clearly aren't "in on the joke", shitposting and a plethora of other less-than-ideal welcome wagons in our Discord channels over the past few weeks, and this isn't welcoming to new members of the playerbase and doesn't really paint a fantastic picture for the community we're trying to cultivate. The Difference There's a seismic difference between playful banter between your own social cliques and friends versus publicly pseudo-harassing someone who doesn't care for it, dogpiling a player who was subject to a report or an Administrative action or blatently denigrating or crucifying someone's roleplay because they don't align with your personal standards or expectations of portrayal. If you want to make an actual difference to someone's roleplay because you don't think they're a fit, great, apply for Staff and let's get to work. The Next Step If you're just absolutely incapable of civility, your options boil down to making your own Discord server where you can type to your hearts content, as we don't moderate external platforms except in the case of Zero Tolerence Policies, or save your typing for in game and quit yapping in Discord. So, ultimately, we're banning fun. Okay, no - but seriously. We're going to start cracking down on the overall atmosphere for STRP's OOC platforms when it gets stupid. The Discord & Forum Rules are publicly accessible at all times, and our army of fun police will be significantly more leniant in handing out timeouts, mutes and (drumroll, please) a new permenant suspension system from using the Discord channels. Learn the difference between the expected playful banter and tasteful shitposting of a gaming Discord, and crossing the line into being an asshole. If you're unable to gauge the difference, there's plenty of other servers out there! Warm regards, Community Management

Been a while since I wrote, which isn't much like me - but it's been a few months, and I confess that the will left me for a while. It's hard to think back on the high we were all on and to try and recapture that sentiment, knowing as I do now what was to come, but for the sake of some brief levity, Sabrina and I married in the valley. We couldn't have asked for a better day. To share scarcely-spoken vows with the world filled me with a sense of accomplishment I've never felt in the saddle - of purpose and meaning not found elsewhere. Yet as though to balance the good fortune with ill, we suffered heavily at the hands of fenian raiders, taking offence to some slight disregard issued by ranch-hands from my ranch and Ambrose Reid's. We lost a third of the herd in an evening, new mothers and calves alike torn down with scatter-guns, ruined utterly. I've oft explained, much to the bemusement and wonder of Mister Villalobos, that the Irish cannot count themselves members of the white race. Now he knows full well the depredations of their kind, writ in meaningless blood and sorrow. The enlightened laughter has ceased, replaced with ready realisation of the truth. Finding new cattle at a price point that would see us keep the ranch proved mostly impossible. I petitioned vehemently with Ambrose Reid, whose ranch we've sworn to defend as he has our own, that some of the burden should be shared. I made a fool of myself in that. I petitioned too with the Livestock Association, and I was met with stony silence of the men out east in New Hanover. I recognised then that we were alone in the matter, and set Jack Best to task on wrangling us some new stock. He made one of those so-frequent 'hunting trips' out with the inimitable Kurt Langston, and we've been dealing with the fever-riddled, mangy, ill-kept cattle he sourced ever since. He and his fellows came to be around the ranch for a while, in the wake of the tragic attack. None moreso than Bolander Duffy, whose queer antics were a brief source of light in hard times. Despite natives howling in the woods for blood, and the US Cavalry bringing Nathan's kid brother through the county while they chased them, we built some small semblance of normality again amidst the chaos, and came together once more. That same kid brother went on in the weeks after to become the Sheriff of New Hanover. Nate the elder, old Texas Two-gun, went with him, resigning as lead hand for the time being to make sure the youngest of the Zieglers might survive his inauguration in a desperate cow-town like Valentine. Mr Pruitt kept his hands full, working with Mrs Best to treat the influx of sickly cattle. Miss Calloway and Mister Hatch haunted the valley, chasing up horse harems to rope the odd bronc for sale. The new Mrs Ellis and I worked with the abundance of greenhorns, trying to acquaint them with sitting a saddle around livestock. Tanner was always chief amongst them in our concerns - in all of our concerns, really. He was barely more than a teenage kid, a surly little man with all the qualities of a stray cat - he'd arrived mysteriously one day without great purpose, had chosen to stick around and always seemed a little mad about it. It took a lot of work coaxing words out of him, or effort for that matter. He didn't like eating with others - or hell, it just plain seemed like he didn't like them. The only person he tolerated was another of his ilk, Mister Stauck, of a similar disposition and temperament. But like a pair of strays that remained overlong, we came to appreciate their company, and I'm sure in their own way they came to appreciate ours - at least Tanner might have. I confess to seeing a real future as a cowpoke in him, but perhaps that's just sentiment speaking out past how we failed him. I hadn't realised that, at some juncture, Tanner had gotten tied up with Kurt Langston. And when the news came through from Valentine that Bolander Duffy was to be hanged over the murder of two men in the Smithfield's saloon, we all privately mourned an acquaintance's imminent death. Kurt Langston must have refused to - he rounded up a posse of men, Tanner included and attacked the town, trying to free Bolander from the jail there. They failed completely in their endeavour, and for their crimes, they joined Mister Duffy on the scaffold. Miss Calloway recounted it for us all, having borne witness to his last moments. She hasn't much been the same since. There isn't a soul on Little Creek Ranch that doesn't believe in the goodness in young Tanner Sutton to this day, despite what he did. Coerced along to no doubt play a small part in their violent raid, he went to his death beaten and bloodied, hung by the neck until dead, by the Zieglers we once called our own. They knew him, knew his nature, and yet they tormented him before his death, and to this day deny it. I've had to talk the rest of the valley down more than once on the matter of confronting them about it. There's only fresh suffering out in Valentine now, and the lingering pain of a festering wound here in Big Valley with Tanner's absence. Mister Stauck disappeared thereafter. And then the others - one by one drifting off, their returns more and more infrequent, until only the Bests, Mister Pruitt and Miss Calloway remained, as they do now. I oft times catch Jack Best looking off toward where we buried Tanner out on the range. I wonder how much he blames Kurt Langston. I wonder how much he blames himself. For the same 'hunting trips' that saw him miss my wedding might have seen him up on that scaffold alongside his slain friends. I'm sure, at last, he's settled now - with a wife, a home of their own, and a child on the way. He's taken to calling himself the lead hand, and I haven't remaining the heart to tell him otherwise. We have, for months, lingered in a collective fugue after the events of early April. Blessed as we were to have this hardship occur in a quiet time of year, as mothers raise their calves and the pasture rises high as the weather turns good, making the most of the snow-melt off the peaks north of us. Things grow, and we eat relatively well. We scrape by, but the summer branding fast approaches, and once again we have the business of hiring on new hands, and dealing with new day-workers. It feels as the turning of a new chapter - a new chance to grow again. We can only pray that times ahead are a little brighter.

(Click on the images to enlarge) Previous Issue: Vol. 44, No. 27 | Following Issue: Vol. 44, No. 29

PRONGHORN MEADOWS RANCH Pronghorn Meadows Ranch is a commercial ranch situated in the ever so beautiful Big Valley and is run by the Robinson family who relocated from Trinity Meadows Ranch in New Hanover. Pronghorn Meadows deals primarily in the raising of livestock, equestrian trade and large scale sale of products. The ranch is enclosed within a thick forest and Mount Shann, giving rise to a breathtaking scenery for an immersive roleplay experience. The faction seeks to take in players who thrive in slice of life roleplay and has a basic knowledge regarding the activities done within a ranch land. We host a comfortable environment for players to delve into roleplay in the difficult terrain, facing the difficulties of running a ranch in the valley that is cluttered by predatory wild animals while also keeping the business afloat. If you are interested in joining the faction, these are the following roles which your character could be shaped into, they are not restricted to just one role; Rancher Horse Trainer Horse Breeder Cook Watchman Farmer Most of our recruitment is done in game but we understand timezones are tricky which is why you can arrange a meet either through our discord which will be linked below or by directly messaging me (.joziah on discord).

THE FUNERAL OF TOMAS WALKER 23rd September, 1900 NEW AUSTIN COUNTY STATE OF TAHOMA May you rest in peace, Tomas Walker. ❤️ Signed, THE UNITED STATES MARSHAL SERVICE, THE PLAYERS OF SOUTH TAHOMA ROLEPLAY

Meet Ambros Pioli, @SaucyWaffles21 a wealthy Italian in Saint Denis, is deeply involved in the city's street crews and controls much of the state's drug trade. His cunning influence has earned him both wealth and reputation among the populace.

Meet Fionn Harkin - @Fionn A proud, good-hearted and well-meaning Irishman. Naturalist at heart. He's a scion of the Harkin family. Fionn appears a well-kept and friendly posture when you cross paths with him. While at first he may seem the quiet type, surely once you get to know him he'll let you in on his life.

Hi there, as the player you're referring to, let me stop you right there. I apologise for any toxicity or expletive language used, but this is just not happening. I don't care what sort of warnings or punishment this tantamounts to but you're straight out of your fucking mind and utterly delusional. You need serious help. There is absolutely no situation in which my character preyed on native women, or women in general and to suggest this makes me sick to my stomach. The fucking audacity of this comment makes me believe you're a malicious retard, to such a degree I can only consider your comment to be pure slander. There was absolutely no targeting of native women, or women, there was absolutely no spying or prowling of them bathing/drinking in streams, and absolutely no watching from the bushes. My bandit outlaw frisking the pockets of female characters does not equal sexual assault, and does not imply any predatory or similarly rapey connotations. The fact you have stretched the below comment "Well.. we got myself two lucky presents.." as a predatory comment shows your true malicious intent, as it was entirely in relation to loot and was followed up by an action that supports that comment. I honestly had no intention of interacting with your group after the situation two days ago, frankly, your accusations disgust me and the fact you have levied such an outrageous defence for this sort of behaviour makes me believe you should be wholly removed from the server. Simply put, you're unwell and need to take a step away. Not only your slander which has reached several people, making individuals come into my DM's to accuse me of this behaviour, but also the fact you have continued in spite of the staff's hardline disapproval.

Introduction Pronghorn Ranch stands at the western entrance to Big Valley, nestled in northern West Elizabeth County. Two decades past, it was a picturesque homestead. A stable grew into a stud farm, expanding with larger pens, a forge, a bunkhouse, and additional lodgings. Pronghorn has since alternated between cattle and horse ranching. The Valley cradled all manner of life. Ownership of Pronghorn Ranch has changed hands many times. Sold for profit to enterprising ranchers or relinquished due to economic hardship. The Pronghorn deed has thus passed down through the years—until now. The Reid family hails from Kansas, playing a part in its tumultuous pre-Civil War formation. Though they possessed a sizable parcel of land, it fractured among siblings upon the patriarch's passing. Difficulties beset them: rustlers, escaped Natives from the south, and the misfortune that cattle seemed to invite. Yet, like a pendulum, the land swung between extremes. Oil surveyors discovered vast seeps across the range. The siblings sold their holdings one by one, all except Ambrose Reid and his brother, Benjamin. Benjamin Reid met a tragic end, shot dead outside his home. Fear for his family eclipsed Ambrose's stubborn pride in holding onto the land. He resolved to sell and set his sights on Tahoma. ∗ ∗ ∗ Life on the ranch consists of hard labor. Most tasks are mundane: caring after livestock and the various repairs and upkeep required around the homestead. Still, there’s a sense of a close-knit community on the range, and no blood needs to be shared to form bonds of kinship with those that work the range.

Howdy, South Tahomies. So, in case you haven't noticed - we're doing really well! The first few months of 2024 have seen the playerbase of South Tahoma Roleplay increase by 300% at various intervals; and our consistent playerbase has gone from ~30 at peak, to ~105. Ultimately, what this means is that many parts of the map have lit up with a variety of roleplay opportunities and avenues, and we've been seeing areas such as Thieves Landing, Van Horn, Valentine & even Annesburg receive some attention on a consistent basis. The Administration will continue to monitor the playerbase and the distribution of characters in the coming month, and as such we will be continuing our in-house policies and protocols for supporting the playerbase in centralised hubs; and will expand when we feel the playerbase is strong enough to house concepts in more hubs. As of January, the Administration have been accepting concepts, businesses, applications and Whitelisted Jobs in: As of mid-February, we have been accepting concepts, businesses, applications and Whitelisted Jobs in: As of this writing, we will be continuing to support concepts in the aforementioned Counties. God-willing the playerbase continues to stabilise in triple-digit numbers, and goes into 130 - 150 like numbers, the Administration will re-review our policies on centralising the roleplay in relation to the distribution of playerbase; and will consider entertaining New Austin as our next venture, to fill the void of 'Rooting Tooting' roleplay that many are seeking. As South Tahoma Roleplay begins to establish our identity and become a more 'complete product', of course you can expect the Newsletters to contain more quality of life; small additions; and community news based content rather than a flashy catalogue of new products. Many of our core systems are now in full effect, and we're working on fixing the rest and establishing a clean product from end-to-end. RHODES MLO We've introduced some new and exciting cosmetics elements recently. Leading the charge of these new changes is the Lemoyne MLO, which was crowdfunded by various members of the South Tahoma Roleplay community. The Rhodes MLO adds a variety of previously inaccessible interiors, and reimagines others. It touches on the General Store, Hotel, 3 Properties, Undertaker, Church & Doctor's Office. Additionally, it also reimagines the interior of Caliga Hall entirely; as well as their two flanking building for staff. The MLO is one of the biggest incorporated into South Tahoma Roleplay to-date. OUTFITS Various outfits have been added to the server since the previous newsletter, providing some extra fashion for gaps in the Tailor script. The most recent additions see Mining, Mexicans & Law. As of this writing, players can now enjoy a total of five isolated outfits-selections, which must of course only be utilised where appropriate. Our thanks go out to @Gamohamini & @Pinkerton for their financial donations which led to the incorporation of the our latest outfits. /outfitsArmy /outfitsDoctor /outfitsGuarma /outfitsSuits /outfitsDresses /outfitsPonchos /outfitsMining /outfitsLaw /outfitsMexicans /outfitsMob /outfitsNative LICENSES & TRADE REVAMP At long last, in-game licenses have made the cut. We'll be integrating our licensing system that was previously done through the Government of Tahoma Discord entirely in-game, to give the United States Marshal Service one more thing to keep eye on. This new system sees an entirely custom-built script allow for the management of license issuing, reproduction and revocation; and the new in-game item allows businesses to ensure they're above board in their endeavours. I already have a license through Discord! Not a problem. Simply open a ticket on Discord while you're in-game and we'll get your item to you. To augment this new system, the Trade Guidelines: Import & Export have been entirely revamped, allowing for three player-ran factions to take care of imports & exports. Of course, we will be allowing new factions to get involved and becoming official Trade Freight Companies, if that's an avenue of roleplay that might interest you! /CME A long-standing difficulty of the Text Roleplaying community in Red Dead Redemption 2 has been finding the fine line between what is fundamentally a potion of a turn-based chat game and a real-time arcade game. Most day-to-day occurences don't find much difficulty meshing these two timelines, but something that is effected each and every day is Combat. Previously, South Tahoma's solution to this issue was Adequate Response Time. This was a rule that forced player's who deployed an initiating emote to prescribe 'adequate response time' to their defender to respond to their emote in whatever way they see fit. The very nature of this rule being an unquantifyable and furthermore an unagreeable 'time' meant that it was vague at best; and maliciously abused at worst. The goal was to replace the unquantifiable with the qualifyable, and that is what /cme aims to do. This is a command and a rule that aims to blatently and explicitly mark: The end of text-based roleplay. The start of game-based gameplay. 10.1 /cme (/combatme) Emotes that serve as the initiation or instigation of combat must be performed with a /cme, rather than a /me. This will populate the emote in an extended radius, and in a crimson red colouration to advise your opponent of incoming hostility. Only the final emote before the actual initiation of gameplay-combat must be a /cme, meaning the actual punch being sent, weapon being discharged, knife being thrown, etc. - not emotes in the run up to combat, or escalation emotes. Upon the deployment of a /cme, combat can begin. Now, we'd like to address some FAQ's that have come up since the recent introduction of this rule. You can find all the relevant specifics in the In-Game Server Rules, but of course feel free to open a Question ticket on Discord any time, any day. Q: Can I shoot at non-players with a normal /me, and not a /cme? A: Yes. You do not require a /cme to shoot at animals, inanimate targets, etc. - However we do recommend using /cme in the presence of a crowd that may not be expecting combat to happen, even if not against a player - just to keep the tone clear. Q: Once a /cme goes in, do I have to roleplay pulling my weapon out; aiming; or anything like that? A: No. As soon as combat has begun via a /cme, no further roleplay from any parties is required and retaliatory combat/gunfire does not require any roleplay at all. Roleplay must resume upon the obvious conclusion of a combat scene. Q: Do I need to /cme to aim without shooting? A: No. Q: Do I have to use /cme for all combat, or just firing my gun? A: Every combative scenario. Use a /cme to signify: discharging a gun, punching a player, throwing a knife, hurling a bomb, etc. Q: What if my target doesn't see my /cme? A: A /cme travels the same distance as a /melong. As long as you have made effort to dispatch a /cme, there is no problem. Q: Does 'Adequate Response Time' still exist? A: No. You are not required to give any amount of 'time' to your opponent once a /cme is deployed. Copy-Pasting, Clipboarding & Macro's are of course still forbidden in all circumstances. MORE HORSE VARIETY Thanks to @MEATLOAF, we have introduced 23 new horse coats to the extensive variety of existing horse customisation options in South Tahoma Roleplay. In addition to this, we've introduced the Colorado Ranger; which comes with 7 coats by standard. We'll continue to monitor the vast amount of horses available to the playerbase to faciliate variety, customisation and such as we soldier on. For now, seek out your local Horse Breeder to see what you can get your hands on. You can find a full list of new additions HERE. STAFF UPDATE & PROMOTIONS The Staff Team have once again spent another month absolutely smashing out the day-to-day behind the scenes logistics that go into making this project tick; in comparison to last month's 59 Whitelisted Job Applications, we have tackled 96 Whitelisted Job Applications since the previous newsletter. In addition to that, of course, the abundance of Custom, Heist, Scheme, Care Package applications and variety of appeals too. We do of course, as cliché as it may seem - extend a heartfelt thank you to our in-house staff team for their tireless volunteer work to ensure a smooth running operation for your roleplaying experience. With that, let's crack on. Welcoming the following members to the Support Team: @Fremtastic @TC Chieftain @Puckstop @ToyYoda @Vertodash @eddymakaveli @Aniel @Vulcenus @Narcan With this extensive new influx of Supports, we've actually closed Staff Applications for the time being! Congratulations to the following Staff members on their promotions: @badteaspoon promoted from Senior Administrator to Lead Administrator David has been a member of South Tahoma Roleplay from very early doors; one of the transferring staff members from a previous Red Dead Text RP community, he came armed with a determination to contribute to a server in their pursuit of becoming the flagship for Text-based Red Dead Redemption roleplay. Taking an early liking to the duties and workload of the Property side of things, he joined the Property Management subteam and has since worked dilligently and constantly to ensure a smooth operation. David will now take the lead of Property Management at the helm, while @Sven assists in a Senior Administrator capacity; after being one of the core reasons for Property Management's existing systems & protocols. @potatogod13 promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator @TC Chieftain promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator @Alatielle promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator @Fremtastic promoted from Support Team to Junior Administrator OTHER Developer Applications Those rare diamonds that are able and willing to have a hand in the development of the South Tahoma Roleplay project now have the availability to do so. If you fancy your hand at LUA or JAVA, you can apply for our development team - we'd be happy to have you. Property & Business Applications The application process for applying for Residential & Businesses have been completely revamped. Players can now apply for a business concept, blip, society & care package all in one with our new Business Applications. Head that way to check it out. Mapping Applications Additionally, we've revamped the Mapping Requests section. Players now have the option to apply for pre-made YMAP/MLO's that they may find roaming around Google, to be incorporated into South Tahoma Roleplay. If this is something that intersts you, assure you understand the rules entirely. SCREENSHOT SHOWCASE Warm regards, Community Management

The following Lore will be enacted upon the Hard Reset, which you can read all about here. It has no bearing on the current server, set in 1900. You may opt to pre-write your '84 character here, if you wish. The State of Tahoma & New Austin Territory, 1884 Admitted to the Union in the summer of 1846, Tahoma became the 29th star to fly on the spangled banner. Sixteen years later when the secession rang across the States, it joined arms with the Confederacy and in a swift siege one fateful day in May '61, surrendered its capital to the Union—an ignoble loss still felt strongly today. Even the Siege of Blackwater however couldn't quell the fighting spirit of West Elizabeth County; they found respite hunting mink, beaver and other prize furs in the hills surrounding the lumbering town of Strawberry whose forests were once traversed by the various Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes, since pacified during the Indian Wars. The same cannot be said for Apache and Comanche groups that continue to resist against the cohabitation of their land in the neighboring New Austin territory. Half a year ago in 1883, one lucky prospector struck gold in that old copper mine out by the Coronado and in droves, men and women rushed out to line their pockets in what they've coined the Gaptooth Gold Rush; but they say in the tall shadow of all this fortune rumbles the beating hooves and hollers of the Old West, and if you're not careful, those gunslinging carrion will swoop in to take their fill... but none so hungry for gold as the federal government. If they have their way, they'll absorb New Austin and its resources into Tahoma. It falls to the people to make their stance: join Tahoma state, reaping from its comforts at possibly the expense of their prosperity or—for the glorious merit of independence—trouble to tame that wild frontier for their own? West Elizabeth county is part of the wider Tahoma state. It's home to the state capital and borders the New Austin territory. As a result, it compensates for its proximity to wilderness with a civilized exterior. BLACKWATER During the American Civil War, the Governor of the time steered Tahoma toward the Confederacy despite a statewide divide of kinship, creed, and country; so when urban settlements like Blackwater were speedily captured by Union forces, they became bastions of federal control, whose agents lauded over the prosperous freight hub with an iron fist of indenture. The South Western Railroad Company's continued investment into the state was a great boon to Blackwater. It brought with it a surge of employable denizens to restore the city to its prior opportunity for industry. With ranches on the nearby flats and Strawberry's furs and lumber to preserve the winter lulls, West Elizabeth enjoyed its post-war renaissance for export by water, holding on to the hope that the rail would be extended to their domain. It's here with its Republican majority that Blackwater vied to seize the land for the civilized America, shepherding throngs of Confederate veterans out into the territory. What they did not expect, however, was the gold those men would find in the deepest, westernmost bowels of that red dustbowl... STRAWBERRY The Siege of Blackwater was no great battle. Casualties were few, but losses great; so when boats burned and livelihoods crumbled, many citizens went north to the sleepy lumber town of Strawberry. The Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes who had lived on that land had become pacified during the Indian Wars; competition for valuable game and for hardy lumber was now nil. As time went by, however, the Blackwater brood became quite comfortable as the new threads in the young tapestry of Strawberry. The sense of community is reputed to be bar none, with 'Berry folk known for their mountain comradeship; and with the port town whence they came greedily siphoning their goods with federal export fees beyond reason, a growing resentment bristles beneath the surface. During the Mexican-American War, northern Nuevo Paraiso is annexed from the Mexican Republic. Squabbles between pro and anti-slavery factions result in a gridlock, and the land is christened the Territory of New Austin. GAPTOOTH RIDGE & TUMBLEWEED The first murmurs of a mining camp were heard in the wider territory some fourteen years ago. They found copper out by the Sea of Coronado and the distant chorus of labor breathed life into what was an otherwise barren plains. Named affectionately 'Tumbleweed' by its thorny populace, the camp became a town thoroughfare whose sunspotted buildings yawned against the low desert wind, and that lonely way it remained for several years; it was too terrible a place to live, what with frequent clashes with the Mexican-American, Apache and Comanche populace. All manner of sport was outsourced to its gleaming sister town, Armadillo; that was until—when Tahoma's crestfallen Confederates abandoned civilization in pursuit of freedom—one wandering prospector invoked the Gaptooth Gold Rush. Fortune seekers flood out west to stake their claim and of a sudden, Tumbleweed threatens to crest Armadillo as all manner of opportunist scramble to do business with the camp—few of them particularly moral. ARMADILLO The settlement of Armadillo became a middleman between the copper mines and the States. The South Western Railroad Company's sale of land marked it for a transport hub and with the trains came a colorful cast to comprise its community. The miners would come out from Tumbleweed for respite, enjoying the saloon and new goods fresh from Blackwater. However, when a violent outbreak of cholera struck in '81, the SWRC withdrew its trains and thus all support from Tahoma State, leaving the epidemic to grip the town with longevity and stunting the modernization of New Austin both. It’s 1884 and Armadillo climbs slowly back to its feet, but finds itself now overshadowed by Tumbleweed and as prospectors arrive to take their fill, they can't help but leave the sickly town a wide berth… just to be sure. Landmark & Specific Events

The sly mastermind behind the biggest bank robbery in South Tahoma’s history, the notorious gang leader of a rough Van Horn crew, and the deadly thorn in every lawman’s side. Meet Mister John Tracy. @The Bayou Escapee

Faction now open to recruitment.

Words of the past still echo in the minds of many... However, this is a story of rebirth and hope, a future less bleak and barren. Armadillo has seen new life breathed into it in recent months. The slow rebuilding of a community to the eventual restoration of the town itself and repairs of the railroad between West Elizabeth and New Austin, have all lead to the boomtown finally exploding back onto the map. With stability restored and an expanding trade network that sees goods imported and exported; the town grows not only in business but in population too, drawing settlers from all walks of life to its hot, dusty landscape. Though do not be fooled, for the road to heaven is paved with blood, sweat, and tears. Danger still lurks around every corner. Nuevo Armadillo is all about life in a harsh, unforgiving environment that is isolated/disconnected from much of Tahoma. With poverty and struggles often comes a sense of community and family - those who have little, band together for survival. The town is small, humble, and plagued by constant problems be that the wildlife, those with ill-intentions, or simply the weather, however... Armadillo is rich in culture, vibrancy, and tenacity in the face of adversity. Armadillo is a home for the outcasts, the tough, and those wanting to start fresh or try their luck on the frontier. Anyone is welcome providing they pull their weight and understand the true meaning of hard work. The struggle is what bring these diverse people together. New Austin Timelines 1860 - 1899 1900 The Paayu Nation The Mexican Insurrection Nuevo Armadillo is NOT an IC name, it is the OOC name of the faction. This thread aims to act as a community thread for anyone within the faction to showcase their RP, even if it doesn't specifically include Armadillo residents every time. It won't be possible to showcase our RP in chronological order due to the number of people involved in the faction.

His day began a few hours before dawn. Headache and stabbing pain in the chest, near the heart, have long become familiar to Tomas. With a heavy sigh, he woke up and crawled out of the flimsy tent that served him as shelter. The Grizzly Mountains towered all around, blocking almost any moonlight from reaching his hideout in the middle of the forest. The Indian stood up, stretched with a deep groan, and went to the pond. The waters of Moonstone were still as cold and refreshing as ever. But even they could not wash the ingrained smell of tobacco from Tomas's hair. He huddled against the cold, washing himself with icy water. His eyes regularly glanced at the lonely cabin that stood between his tent and the pond. Mister Blackthorne and his weird annoying woman were sleeping inside. He was a strange man. Too friendly for Tomas's liking, and seemed to be trying to buy affection with gifts. But Native had learn to accept him and even like. In a way. The Indian got out of the water, warmed up and dried out by the fire, pulled on his worn old jeans, and buttoned his shirt. The moon was descending in the sky and soon it would be dawn. As always, he sat in the saddle after gently waking and feeding his horse. Nothing helped him cope with his thoughts better than lonely rides. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The horse hobbled slowly along mountain and forest roads. Night birds screamed and hooted in the branches and in the dark pre-dawn sky. The Indian rocked in the saddle and indulged in reflection. In recent months, his life began to change - less and less often he began to appear in Valentine, slipping unnoticed to help Missis Wolfe, to whose husband Tomas felt indebted, or to buy cigarettes and cartridges. People of the town felt no love for him, and he felt no love for them. Bar three - Wolfes and the odd Irishman, that stood out among the rest - Dunn Flynn. Those three faces flown by before his eyes. Good people. They seemed to care and respect him, and he repaid them in kind. Even though he couldn't express it with words. But then... another face appeared in his memory - woman's face. Ginny May. Ranchand and singer, that lived at Sunset Dale ranch. He thought her odd at first. Annoying. Too energetic, too impatient. But it changed after a simple question - "D'ya have a cigarette, Mister Tomas?" He didn't realize how it happened but that day he found a friend. One of the very few he ever had. Only of the very few he could open his heart to. He soon realized how wrong he had been in his first impression, and was surprised to learn that he wanted... to talk to her. Talk, share, ask. Smile. They shared cigarettes and stories, opinions and experiences. And the hole in his chest began to gradually and timidly, as if in disbelief, close. He told her, what he never told anyone bar his sister - the stories of his pain and worries, of his past. She, in kind, shared her own, and trust formed between the two, and gentle friendship. Thoughts of Ginny made the rider smile on his way. He didn't noticed at first that hours had gone by and the twilight gave way to the crack of dawn. Woods stirred, coming back to life. Even thought they never really fell silent. Tomas's thoughts, like the wild horses, ran by and away. Face replaced faces, memories replaced memories. Elsie Griffin and the monster that attacked her. Shame of not being able to catch that man. Face of dying Konrad Banks... Indian was cursed, cursed with good memory. He never forgot, he never let go. If he was offended he held a grudge. If he was respected he returned loyalty. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That word stung. Loyalty. He was a redskin and savage in the eyes of most. Hated, scorned. And yet he was loyal to them, to their nation, while his lied in ruins, in hunger and cold. His father wore a blue coat, and so did Tomas. (Sergeant Tomas Walker and Scout Private Paa Nuhya) But he served. He wore blue as well. Sergeant Tomas Walker of the Indian Scout Detachment, Troop B, 1st Tahoma Cavalry Regiment. And before that, in Oklahoma. (Letter from H.L. Scott, commading officer of Troop L, 7th Cavalry Regiment) He would keep his blue band forever, until his last day. And he would keep the memories untill his last days - Charles Oak, Francis Hensley, Xandar Armell. Even the always angry Woods, Sergeant Charles Woods. His memory had place for them, the men he had come to respect. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He rode past the ruins of Fort Riggs. Boarding school for Wapiti Indian children, forcefully taken away from their tribe. Beaten, starved, humiliated. They had their hair cut off and thier identity stripped away. The same way it happened to Tomas more than a decade ago. He was grateful the place had burnt down. But every time he had to ride by, his chest would hurt again and even more. Tomas turned his mare towards the river and then through it, onto the Plains of West Elizabeth. Blackwater loomed ahead. Long time ago he dwelled near this place, and here were faces to remember as well - Mary-Kim... Virgil Augustine. Nathan Ziegler. Rider turned away and heavy frown crossed his face. He came here not for them. All those were gone now. He came to the graveyard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- An hour or so later he emerged from the Church's yard and took his horse by the reins, leading the painthorse mare into the town proper. It was a new Blackwater, not the one he knew and dwelled with. Old Drummond, that hateful man was gone and the White Robe, the cruel mockery of God's men, was gone as well. Those who came to replace them interested Tomas little, aside from very few. Doctor Caitlin tended to his wounds and the wounds of his sister, when he was brought here, after battling the Makoyi Chief under the skies, so high in the Grizzly mountains. And Fionn Harkin, who was his new superior, after Gabriel Wolfe had stepped down. Wolfe... (Found in a pocket of Tomas Walker's body) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One of the few men he came to respect, and amidst those few most were marshals. They gave him purpose, goal, reason to keep going. That and Ginny's friendship, Ana and Angus, faith that his sister and brother lived - that was kept him going. (On the road to Armadillo) He rode with them often, called into service. Pay wasn't much, but it bothered him little. Broken man, he needed purpose and they gave it to him in full. And so he respected them - respected Harkin, perhaps sensing a kindred gloomy and reserved spirit in that man. Respected Valence, for his honesty and his skills. Old Man Fletcher was an odd one, a desk man. But he was open and willing to learn. Tomas found it odd, granted the man's advanced age, but couldn't help but feel respect as well. Castillo became the closest one could be to a confidant among USMS. (Prisoner delivery) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aloof Indian bought a pack of cheap cigarettes, few cans of food and a new horse brush. Most of his salary was gone at this point, and he left the town empty pocketed. Ride across the Heartlands was unremarkable. Until he met Ginny May on his way. Woman was troubled by something. He learned to sense it by now. His nature was simple and to the point: "Come. Let's ride." She weakly noded and followed him. They talked about this and that on the way, but her shoulder held a burden still. So he took her to the place that he knew would help to clear the mind. It always did for him. With her his heart was opened and he talked, after she shared her sorrowful tale. He patted her shoulder - closest thing to an embrace this cold man could offer. And she in turn, touched his hand. Two pained souls understood each other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Her husband waited home and Tomas departed right away, after they reached the cabin. Sun crossed the skies and was going down when he rode through Sunset Dale again. Only to meet the marshals preparing for a filedwork in New Austin. New of Apache raids into West Elizabeth came more and more often, and USMS was forced to intervene. He felt a pang in his chest once more. An unsettling feeling, bad feeling. But the sence of duty long since overshadowed every other feeling of his. In duty he found shelter, peace and understanding. Duty was assigned by the Federal agencies - be it USMS or BIA, with which he worked in the past. Or it was self-imposed. Like one he felt towards Ana Jacinto, an odd girl from the Hennigan's Stead - duty to care and protect. So he followed that duty still. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fighting was brief. Apache, the demons that they were, came silent from the hills above the unsuspecting Marshals. Native scout failed in his duty to see the danger. But he wouldn't fail to defend those, he served. Marshals retreated safely. But Tomas was left on the ground. Gushing wound in his stomach. He fell and screamed. It was not a wound one could survive... He felt pain, he felt anguish, he felt the bone-piercing shame of failure. Longing for those face he wouldn't see again. Apache took him, they tried to patch the wound but it was no use. " - Do you want to live, traitor?" "- I do not fear death..." They leaned him against the tree. Beedy hateful eyes met his gaze, reserved and odd stern in the face of death. He didn't lied - he feared Her not. But it saddened him to be gone so soon. Now, that he had reason to live again. One of them took out a tomahawk from his belt. He grabbed Tomas by the hair and pulled his head up. Scout screamed in pain, but he peered at the enemy he didn't felt hate towards. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell. Strained breath escaped through his nostrils. His eyes - the endless wells of melancholy - saw the axe rise. And fall. Cold biting steel connected with his neck. Sensation, soundless scream ,sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone. Cold. And then it was gone. Tomas Walker was no more... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marshals found him after dawn. The body was left in a sitting position and was covered with a poncho, crimson red with blood. A sign of last respects or a disposure of useless piece of closing, it was not clear. Clear was the frozen expression of pain and fear on Tomas's face. Four bear claws with names carved onto them, posseman's paper signed by Marshal Wolfe, and a telegram. Few dollars and a crumpled pack of cheap smokes. Such were his earthly possesions. (telegram, found in Tomas Walker's chest pocket) He was laid by the tree. He said to Angus once, many many months ago that he loved Mescalero - the stone circle, that hid in the hills few miles outside of the ranch. They knew where to burry his body. His spirit rode alone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- @Shishkekbab @Acorn @Kingston @Hiatus @Idatts @dotburg @Bailey @Tanaa @ZelZel @Haunting @Kushiel and many many more - thank you for being with me on this journey.

Justice...what a concept. The City of St. Denis...she never sleeps, never rests. The town is ridden with crime...rats....and no one to stop it. Not anymore...for The Knight Beaver rises. Criminals...beware.

With all the requests pouring in, there was never gonna be a right time to draw my own character - so I thought, I'm just gonna take it! This here is Earl Trotters, the only surviving member of the Bayou Trotters family whom got caught in a robbery from which Earl was absent. After a few days of mourning, Earl's gotten out of bed and has resumed life in the Bowery.

THE DEMISE OF THE TROTTERS After a series of reports from the citizenship of Saint Denis led Chief Fletcher and some of his peace officers to a stakeout, the 'Trotters' are apprehended; but instead of surrendering, choose to go out in a blaze of glory. They would soon bleed out, a win for justice; but a loss for the public spectacle of capital punishment. (( I would like to state the S.D.P.D. Faction did not push CK's against any players. All CK'd players chose to succumb to their injuries (which we agreed to), and Self CK'd . ))

Little Creek Ranch is a small scale ranch situated in Big Valley, West Elizabeth county. It is named after the creek that cuts through the valley and helps feed the fertile pastures. The area itself is considered challenging due to the cold winters and the abundance of predators - wolves, grizzlies, and the occasional cougar make the region intimidating for settling & livestock rearing. Despite this and its comparable lack of infrastructure it sits on the only range-land north of the lower Montana river & west of the Dakota river, with close proximity to the town of Strawberry. Little Creek has had a history of being taken up and abandoned; from the challenges of the West Elizabeth insurrection that marred the county to the difficulty of life in such a climate. None the less any astute rancher would likely see the potential of the range-land - if fortune and determination could see them through the seasons in such a place. Under its current management the ranch is predominantly focused on the pasturing of cattle for beef commercially. Other ventures are possible to pursue in the realm of homesteading and modest business opportunities but cattle-ranching is the primary, driving, focus of Little Creek Ranch. What's your deal? How can I get involved?

See you later, old friend!

The Wapiti are a Native American people that were once considered one of the largest and most dominant tribes in Tahoma. Originating from the Heartlands area in New Hanover, the Wapiti, also known as the Elk People by neighbouring tribes, once controlled an extensive territory that stretched out to other areas such as Cumberland Forest in the north and even had traces of artefacts found as far southwest as West Elizabeth. Their native tongue is part of the Siouan family, and their customs and spiritual practices have similarities with those of the Oglala Lakota. The tribe's name comes from the Shawnee and Cree word of the same spelling, meaning "white rump," a nod to the bull elk, which held significant cultural importance and was frequently seen in their company. ‎ Before contact with settlers, the Wapiti followed the bull elks through the Cumberland Forest and Grizzlies East, relying on them for sustenance. This dependency continued until the 1600s when the Wapiti were introduced to horses by their allies. This development greatly enhanced their mobility and combat capabilities, allowing them to dominate the Heartlands and adopt bison hunting practices, common among Plains tribes of that era. The Wapiti frequently engaged in conflicts with other Plains tribes, including the Crow, Pawnee, and Arikara. The arrival of firearms from European settlers intensified these conflicts, resulting in more brutal encounters. Many rival villages were devastated, often with no survivors. Captives, especially men and warriors, were typically killed, while women and children might have been adopted into Wapiti families if they were fortunate. ‎ In 1803, the Wapiti began to resist the encroachment of white settlers, leading to the Wapiti Massacre in 1815, where an entire village was destroyed. The town of Valentine was later established on the remains of this village. The Wapiti also participated in the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876, joining forces with the Lakota and Arapaho to challenge General Custer's regiment and other tribes such as the Crow, Pawnee, and Arikara. The ongoing conflict the tribe had with settlers and the U.S. government continued until 1891 when the Wapiti and their allies were forced to surrender. Between 1891 and 1896, the remaining Wapiti bands were consolidated onto the Wapiti Indian Reservation in the Grizzlies East region of Ambarino. ‎ By 1900, the Wapiti had greatly diminished from their former glory, with many of their once-powerful bands and revered warrior societies in disarray. The tribe, now largely pacified, saw groups like Sat-By-Water, the Tree Whisper People, Crossed Antlers, and Horses of the Plains settle into a more resigned existence on the reservation. Although they have largely adapted to their new circumstances, the Wapiti continue to harbour deep resentment towards white settlers, adhering to regulations mainly to avoid further repercussions from Indian Affairs. Despite their outward compliance, the Wapiti Indian Reservation has grown increasingly hostile toward outsiders, particularly white individuals, in recent years.