20200425 Don't Stop that Stage Coach!

Now Ranchers and Farmers notoriously argue about the proper uses of land and fences... and of course water. Nyads typically have something to say about the latter too. Without a strong King on the throne to make people stick to decisions on the aforementioned resources, we have the makings of an alchemical powder keg in Purgatory Gulch.
 
I hear tell Mayor Blaze hopes to hunker down until it all blows up and/or blows over.
 
Padre Cirino grabbed his travelling gear and Bessie, his... uh... well, she's a lot of things mixed together.
I'm just gonna say she's his riding animal for simplicity.
 
He also helped me get Dagnabbit. He's... uh... well, he's a riding animal to me but not most other folks, from what I hear.
 
With the Mail stage coach arriving around noonish from the north, we figured we could explore to the south east before they arrive and then hear what they have to say. It was a sound plan.
 
And I'm finding my attention drawn to that Naiad or Dryad of Arjory Pond, Yiara. The more delays pop up before I can get to talk with her, the more my interest is aroused to find out what part she plays in all these strange recent shenanigans around here. Wrong Way is looking at me like he thinks I have more of a masculine interest in her rather than just investigating a mystery. I guess I might be mistaken to assume she hasn't settled down and might be interested in a young Druid's company now and then. I am aware that a lot of fellas my age make that mistake, but it is a fun mistake to make, so I planned to visit her in the afternoon. That was a sound plan too.
 
We tried to get the SNAFU gang together, which involved catching up with Miro south of town. He had found a guy everybody calls the Ranger, somebody (probably not Miro) beat up the Ranger and branded his forehead with a triangle symbol of the Whippetal Ranch. I think somebody mentioned Hell Bovines stealing the Magic Anvil from the Whippetal Ranch, which is all kinds of not good for anybody but them.
 
At Tarntaise Farm, I think it was, we talked to Klem and Jackson about rutabagas and rabbits. I blessed the crops and had to stretch my peaceful listening skills until I nearly broke my ears, but I got through it. He gave me an artsy craftsy wind-chime, which is nice.
 
Not nice is the brand new cemetary. A big old slice of hell and that-what-should-not-be. I got the strange feeling that Yiara might have checked out that sad sight and cried. I realized I have really got to go see her soon. And with that realization came the next obstacle. In short, vengeful ghost elf lady, somebody needs to take the Elvish Amulet back to the mountains, and everybody needs to get the Stormbringer out of the bottle he's stuck in, as in necromantically stuck in.
 
Oh, and then there's Braunvieh Farm which was razed and everybody killed or probably worse. We cleaned it up as best we could.
 
Our eyes in the skies found the mail stage coach had an issue with a cattle stampede. We did our best to cut them off at the pass. Your friendly neighborhood Harpy and I whipped up a few entanglements with all the weeds and cacti in the area. And there was some fighting. And there was some shooting. And the stage coach made it to town, just a little late and rough around the edges.