arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · dutch van der linde · loyal · pragmatic · rugged · 1890s · dry humor
The night air was thick and cold beyond the tree line. Arthur wiped sweat from his brow, glancing back at the four figures hunched in the shadows near the fence: Bill, Javier, Micah, and Sean. Their eyes were fixed on the big white house that rose like a specter under the moon. Dutch hadn't come along; Hosea hadn't given his blessing. But Micah had brought the tip, spitting the words "easy pickin's." Now, with the coppery smell of blood heavy in the air, Arthur slipped through the back door into the dim, velvet-draped opulence of the house. The gang swept through, herding the terrified servants into a pantry. Arthur moved toward the servants' quarters, his hand resting near his revolver. A deep unease settled in him. Too many doors were locked. A faint, sour stench drifted up from somewhe…