Red Dead Redemption 2: From Gaming To Cowboy

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Caleb gave Morgan a soft pat, brushing his hand down the her neck before taking the brush from the saddlebag. A few gentle strokes to clear away dust, and then he reached into his coat and pulled out a slightly bruised apple he'd pocketed earlier. "There you go, girl," he murmured, holding it out. Morgan crunched it happily.

"You ready yet?" Arthur asked, smirking a little as he cinched his saddle one last time.

"Been ready since I woke up Arthur," Caleb replied.

Arthur scoffed and chuckled. "Sure you were. We've been standing here watchin' you do your morning exercises or whatever you called it, while we were already saddled up."

Caleb just shook his head with a quiet chuckle of his own. "Hey, staying limber keeps me from ending up limping. Keeps me from getting shot. You should try it sometime."

Arthur snorted upon hearing that. "Well, you're gonna be sore one way or another," he replied, swinging up onto his horse. "Let's get moving. If it's too long, you gonna spoil that horse."

"And you don't?" Caleb shot back, swinging into the saddle. "I've seen you feeding your horse sugar cubes like they're going out of style."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort but Charles cut in smoothly. "Are we scouting or bickering like old women at a church social?"

That earned a chuckle from all three as they nudged their horses into motion, leaving Horseshoe Overlook, following the main road east.

The sky above them shifted from gray to soft amber, sunlight slowly unfurling across the wide open fields of the Heartlands. It cast long shadows behind them as they moved, the air still cool but warming with each passing minute.

Birdsong filled the silence between hoofbeats, and for a while, none of them spoke. They just rode, the quiet morning wrapping around them like a blanket.

As they left the camp behind, eventually Charles broke the silence as he turned in his saddle. "So… where exactly are we heading at this ungodly hour?"

"To find us a new home to settle," Arthur said, adjusting his hat against the rising sun. "We're packing up. Moving on."

Charles frowned, turning to glance at him. "What? Again? We just got settled."

Caleb looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, we have to. Something big happened yesterday in Valentine's."

Charles arched an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Big?"

Caleb nodded grimly. "Yes. Leviticus Cornwall, the guy who owns that train you all robbed back up in the Grizzlies before you moved down south, he managed to track us down. Showed up in Valentine with an army of private guards looking for Dutch."

Charles's expression darkened. "He tracked us here?"

Arthur let out a low whistle. "Seems so. It was a damn miracle we walked out of that without a gunfight thanks to Caleb."

Caleb continued. "He came looking for answers. Hell, he probably wanted blood. But I managed to talk him down, buy Dutch, Strauss, Strauss, and John enough time to get out of there clean. But it's only a matter of time before he sends the Pinkertons sniffing around Horseshoe Overlook."

Charles let out a slow breath. "That doesn't sound good. Fortunately, you were able to do that, Caleb."

"Could've gone south real fast," Arthur agreed. "We got lucky."

Charles shook his head. "And so, now Dutch wants us to move?"

"Yeah," Caleb said. "We're heading to Dewberry Creek. Down south at the border of Lemoyne. I suggested it. Dutch told us to scout it out and make sure it's safe and clear enough for us to lie low."

Charles seemed to mull that over a bit, then nodded. "All right. Let's see what it's like."

They rode for about 45 minutes, passing wide green pastures and shallow ravines, watching the land change slowly as the sun rose fully into the sky. When they reached the border of the Heartlands, Arthur raised a hand, signaling them to slow as they reached a weathered signpost marking the county line.

"Here's where we leave the road," Arthur said, turning his horse south onto a narrow game trail that wound through thickening brush. Heading south, they broke off the main road, entering into rougher terrain.

The land became patchier, with tufts of long grass and dry creek beds stretching out under sparse clusters of trees. Birds flitted between the branches, and a few distant deer scattered at the sound of hooves.

Eventually, they crested a low ridge, and Dewberry Creek came into view.

The dry riverbed lay sprawled below them, flanked on either side by small groves and rocky outcrops. It was a quiet, lonesome place, open, sure, but defensible. No signs of other people yet, and the place had a strange stillness to it.

"Well," Arthur said, pulling his horse to a stop beside Caleb. "Ain't much out here. You sure this'll do?"

Caleb nodded, his tone neutral. "It's isolated. We'll see anyone coming for miles. No roads, no towns. Just open land."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Yeah… but a little too open, don't you think?"

"Agreed," Arthur muttered. "Ain't a lot of cover. If we had to defend it…"

"I know," Caleb admitted. "We'll ride the perimeter. Make sure. Dutch just wants us to scout. We'll bring back a full report."

They moved down into the creek bed, exploring its winding paths, the worn stones, and the clusters of shrubs. A pair of rabbits darted across their path, and a hawk circled above.

It wasn't long before Caleb spotted the dead body that Arthur and Charles found in the game, which led them to what looked like an abandoned camp and then the group of three of a German mother, daughter, and son hiding beneath a wagon, huddled there with the mother holding a double barreled shotgun.

So Caleb immediately pointed toward the body and said, "Hey, look? You see that? There's someone, or probably a body, on the ground."

Hearing that, both Arthur and Charles immediately turned their eyes toward the direction Caleb pointed. Sure enough, they saw what he was talking about, a figure slumped on the dry dirt near a cluster of rocks, vultures pecking at the still form.

Arthur clicked his tongue, guiding his horse forward. "Well, shit."

"Let's check it out," Charles said grimly.

The three of them nudged their horses into motion, trotting downhill toward the riverbed. As they neared, the vultures scattered into the sky with sharp cries, wings beating the dry air. The body lay twisted in an unnatural way, limbs slack, coat rumpled. A grim sight under the rising sun.

They dismounted quickly, boots crunching over dust and stone as they approached.

Caleb crouched near the head while Charles kneeled by the man's chest. Arthur stood behind them both, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"Looks like he's been shot," Caleb murmured, eyes tracing the entry wound clean through the chest. "From the condition of the body, it shouldn't have been long, right Charles?"

Charles pressed a couple of fingers to the man's neck just to be sure, then glanced at the blood drying around the wound. "Yeah… maybe a few hours. Less, maybe. Judging from how the blood's still sticky and there's no rot setting in."

Arthur shook his head with a heavy breath. "So it looks like trouble got here before us, then. Means this place wasn't such a good spot for our camp after all."

Charles and Caleb both nodded grimly.

Charles stood and pointed off slightly to the right, where a faint trail led into a small depression. "From the looks of it… there's a camp just ahead."

Arthur immediately squared his shoulders. "Sure. Let's get ready for business. Any issues… shoot first and debate second."

Charles was just about to protest, like in the game, but Caleb stepped in faster.

"We shouldn't shoot for the sake of it, Arthur," Caleb said firmly. "We don't even know if they're good people or not. If they're just survivors, scared outta their minds? Shooting first makes us no better than the bastards we're trying to stay ahead of."

Charles nodded in agreement, glancing toward Arthur. "He's right. I don't shoot just for the sake of it either. Let's keep a level head."

Arthur looked between the two of them, lips pursed under his mustache. Then he gave a reluctant nod. "All right, both of you. Okay. Let's go take a look."

With Arthur leading, they moved forward on foot, heading into the dry riverbed's curve. The path was worn but passable, flanked by dry grass and scattered brush. The air was still and tense, every sound seeming louder in the quiet.

They rounded the bend, and there it was, just as in the game.

On the right side of the riverbed lay a makeshift camp, a few weathered canvas tents, some tarps stretched over ropes, and piles of clutter, wooden crates, rusted buckets, tattered sacks, broken chairs, and cooking pots long gone cold. A fire pit sat cold in the center of the camp, ashes scattered by the wind.

Arthur motioned toward the camp. "Look. Here it is. Few tents… but the place looks empty."

Charles scanned the scene with narrowed eyes. "Let's have a look around. Make sure."

The three of them split up, keeping within earshot. Arthur poked around the fire pit and rummaged through a supply box.

Charles checked the larger tent, finding a bedroll, an empty canteen, and a pair of worn shoes. Caleb, meanwhile, moved past the tents and the fire, drawn toward a half-covered wagon parked at the far end of the camp.

"Be careful," Arthur called over his shoulder. "Maybe they heard us coming and went to ground."

"I'm being careful," Charles replied from behind a cluster of barrels.

"Yeah, me too," Caleb echoed, hand resting casually near the revolver holstered at his hip.

As he reached the wagon, he noticed the wagon just like in the game, formation of makeshift barriers formed by stacked crates and barrels around the sides. Almost like a tiny barricade. He instantly put his guard up. He doesn't want to accidentally get shot.

He stepped lightly, boots soft in the dirt, and gently leaned down as he began to declutter the makeshift barriers around the wagon slowly and surely. And there, just like in the game, he saw them.

A German mother, daughter, and son huddled beneath the wagon, all trembling. The mother held a double-barreled shotgun tightly, aimed shakily at the space between the crates.

Her wide eyes locked onto Caleb's as soon as she saw him, terrified but determined. The children clung to her, one boy, no more than eight, and a girl perhaps twelve, both pale and frightened.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey," Caleb said quickly, hands raised to show he meant no harm. "Don't shoot. We're not here to hurt you. You're safe."

The woman muttered something in German, voice quaking. Her finger tensed on the trigger. Her children let out stutters and heavy fast breaths while trembling more intensely, as they were afraid.

"It's all right," Caleb said, slowly crouching, with both of his hands still up in the air. "You okay? You can come out from there, we mean you no harm."

The woman blinked at his words, still shaking. Her barrel didn't drop, but it didn't fire either.

Charles and Arthur came up behind him then, seeing the tense standoff. Arthur instinctively reached for his gun but Caleb threw a hand back.

"Wait," he said without turning. "She's scared. Just trying to protect her kids. Something must have happened here. Both of you get your hand up as well."

Arthur growled under his breath but didn't draw and put his hand up, Charles immediately did the same without any complaints.

Caleb looked the mother straight in the eyes. "We help you it's okay. There's no danger."

The woman hesitated, then slowly, very slowly lowered the shotgun but not by much, still la but alert. She let out a rattling breath as she held the tears formed in her eyes. Her children clung tighter to her.

Charles exhaled with quiet relief. "You handled that well."

"She was ready to pull the trigger," Arthur muttered.

"And you were ready to get us all killed," Caleb shot back quietly, though without malice. "Let's give them some space." The family slowly crawled out from under the wagon, keeping close to each other. The mother clutched the shotgun like a lifeline, and pointed it to the three of them but not as alert as before but still alert. Her children stuck to her sides like shadows.

...

Name: Caleb Thorne

Age: 23

Body Attributes:

- Strength: 7/10

- Agility: 6/10

- Perception: 8/10

- Stamina: 7/10

- Charm: 5/10

- Luck: 6/10

Skills:

- Handgun (Lvl 2)

- Rifle (Lvl 2)

- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)

- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl 1)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)

- Sneaking (Lvl 2)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)

- Poker (Lvl 3)

- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)

- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)

- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)

- Bow (Lvl 2)

- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)

- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)

- Crafting (Lv1)

- Persuasion (Lvl 2)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

- Cooking (Lvl 2)

- Teaching (Lvl 1)

Money: 1463 dollars and 45 cents and 2 gold nuggets

Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets