The Legend of Clemancy Freedman

[Doctor Amos]

Now lissin' up, I'm gunna tell you the legend of Clemancy Freedman. An' this legend is special, because I know it's true.

If a feller were to make a list of all the jobs a body can have in Malifaux, and then sort them top to bottom on how long you expected to live, "Coachman" ranks somewhere between "Convict Miner" and "Deputized Neverborne Hunter." However, even with them odds, there were no occuption in this world or the next that Clemancy Freedman could see himmself doin'. Since he first saw the horses at his master's ranch, he knew he would be drivin' them until the end of his days. When the war ended and he was free to plot his own course, he saved up enough money to buy them horses, and then a ticket to Malifaux to seek his fortune and destiny. Now, if ever you were looking fer work as a coachman, you'd find a suspicious number of openings and a lack of any kind of background check. This is doubly so for a man with his own horses. Clem found a payin' job the first day here.

Clem loved his horses. He would spend half his wages, a good sight more than he could make earthside, on buyin' 'em oats and hay from Earth. He dinnae want them eatin' the dry grass and sickly greens of this place. When they'd git spooked, he'd talk to 'em. Brush 'em. Even sleep in the barn with 'em.

One day out in the badlands, Clem's number came up. His coach was cornered by them things what no man can ever run from. It was a tribute to his skill that he saved the passengers by tossin' 'em out the door. Whatever was a after him, it wanted Clem and Clem alone. Or maybe the box a stones he was transsportin'. But they went right fer him, these things what no man kin run from. But... and this is important... they didn't never race Clemancy Freedman afore. He ran a' faster than anything, ran ta beat the devil. Fer days he ran, through the rocky badlands. Always he felt a hot breath, the wingbeats a monsters, the near-misses a claws.

Now, a horse can run a long ways. A long ways. But, you keep it on a chase, an' it'll die runnin'. And sometime during his flight, in the second or third day, Clem's horses up and died on him. But his heart, his love fer him, and his soul and spirit in this place, he made 'em keep on a runnin'. Not one a tha horses broke stride, even as it expired. And, whassmore, when I first a tell this story, I was no bigger than you. So, I immagine ol' Clem 'as died hisself. But still from out in the badlands comes reports... reports of a coach and six dead horses, runnin' like hell to escape from something what no man can ever escape.

Edited December 14, 2010 by Doctor Amos

[Nathan Caroland]

I like that.

Lots of atmosphere.