The American Experiment (Riot Quest)

In the Wilds of Dakota

(Arthur Randolph POV)

Art Randolph had come out to the Badlands to Escape the Troubles of man, to rebuild his life after the troubles of what many considered a tragedy.

The Haymarket Affair had more or less ruined his business opportunities in Chicago, his shop had been burned in the riots and he'd been forced to sell off many of his former wares in order to pull himself out of poverty.

Then he had joined the Land and Labor party, partly to rebuild his life, and partly because he still bore a grudge against the rioters who destroyed his livelihood. They had need of accountants and they were appreciative of your work.

Even if they were riding this horse without a saddle.

And yet sitting on this hill somewhere in the middle of nowhere you were content.

You had taken to honing certain skills in your spare time, fire making, amature astronomy and basic woodcarving.

Fundamental skills your father taught you, from his time in the Civil War.

Your hill was something of a holy place to you, where you lived cleanly, simply, and above all you felt more alive out here then you did in Chicago.

"This spot taken?" An older man said as you looked up.

Did he look familiar? You must have gotten into an argument with someone like him once.

"No…I thought I was alone up here?" You said.

"Not particularly…despite your diligence in making sure to not leave a mess. You were easy to follow." He said.

"Oh…well, I guess your a draftsman looking for nature as a canvas?" You said.

"Among other things, Mark said after the big success I should go take a vacation, and not knowing where else to go, decided the Badlands need to be honored." He said.

A peculierity. Very odd.

"Trying to clear your head?" He said.

"Among other things, I'm trying to drum up support for the Land and Labor Party, yet we seem to be hamstrung by a lack of numbers, we're loud for sure…but still , compared to the others running around, we're just a bunch of rabble rousers." You said.

"Men have their moments, your's hasn't come yet, it will come and take it from me." He said.

That you would.

"Art Randolph…I'm an accountant in Civil Life." You said.

"Danial Carter Beard…I draw for a living on top of writing." He said.

"My Son has the Handybook." You said. "It inspired him to be a better man." You said.

"I'm glad…that I've helped you and your family." He said.

You sat there, drawing and looking at the hills and stars in the sky.

"Its a damn shame that the Indian's are torn away from all this?" You said.

"I know…to think they had all this beauty and the skill to survive it all, and we shove them into boarding schools and make them civil." He said.

"I wouldn't call what we're doing to them civil." You said.

"Oh great I didn't think you were with them?" He said.

"I'm just saying they live in this country too, and deserve a little respect. Come on I've heard some horror stories about what the Canadians are doing to their natives. And they call us savages." You said.

"I at least have enough respect for them and their traditions to think we can learn from them, nothing more." He said.

"Is that a hint of respect I hear?" You said.

"Nothing more then respect for their skills they taught, nothing more…alas. I have ideas, but nothing concrete." he said.

"Well I just want us to get along in this wonder of a world…is that too hard to ask?" You said.

"To some, kindness to others is harder than killing." He said.

"But If they learned and live together, hatred would never form." You said.

"One day…One day, we'll have an organization that teaches young men to learn the skills of life, and learn to love one another then hate." He said.

"One Day." You said.

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AN: Danial Carter Beard is a fascinating man, when he wasn't being a man of his time…he was quite insightful on what young men needed psychologically to grow up into healthy members of the community.

Also I might have accidentally started the Scouting Movement in America with this conversation.

Enjoy.

A Family's Farm:

For Simon Johnson, Diligence was not just a trait, it was a way of life. The same could be said for his humble farm. When he came to America, he was just a boy, after he crossed the Atlantic for this land of plenty and land, he had big dreams. Big ideas, that his father and Grandfather always wanted him to have.

Dreams of a farm, for his family, something to support himself, and to call his own. He was no longer a peasant serving a king, but a man, whose only master was himself and God.

And the law, but that was always another story.

When he came to America, he had a choice. Fight in the Great Civil war, or sit on Ellis Island for a year.

He chose the sensible option. He was given a rifle, and he was told to fight for his country.

He would hope to never pick up a rifle again.

When the war was over, and he was a citizen, Simon could not stay in the grim and dirty east, for he knew all too well that the great farms and manors and cities were not to his liking. He would go west, like good men, and seek his fortune.

He wound up in Michigan, with a community from the Old country, and he met his wife. He went down and raised his family, and finally bought his farm.

He worked for years as a grain man, but the Grain prices were not going to help. And instead, he thought differently, back to his homeland.

Beavers were a valuable commodity. Their furs sold for over 200 dollars in the right circles. And he decided, to try his hands at fur farming.

His three hundred acres connected to the river, and he had a damn, and then, he imported a few more beavers. He had learned from an old Indian who was off his reservation for spiritual reconnection to his homeland. He was your friend, Beaver Tail.

Soon he had over a thousand Beavers, and got over 500 furs a year, with a population growing more and more every year.

In fact, he had received offers from many of the fur barons, John Jacob Astor, and his ilk, to purchase his farm for well over a million dollars, as they saw it as the future of how Furs will be maintained, and supply was

He had refused. He would not allow wealth to corrupt him. Nor would it corrupt his family. He wanted them to learn the value of work.

And chose their own path.

He did not come to this country to become a Millionaire.

He came to this country to be free. To no longer be a slave or a peasant to a King.

And Freedom, for Simon Johnson, as always, was something that was worth dying for.

So that was why he joined this new party.

They believed in his ideals. More than any of the mainline parties that were in power.

He had been in this town since it was built. His word in his town was trusted. Revered even. He had built the church. He had built the schoolhouse. Hell, his home had seen the birth of nearly a dozen children when his friends had nowhere else to go, and your wife was the only midwife in the area.

If he asked, perhaps he could see a mayor who shared his ideas elected.
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He looked at the letter and began to write.

While the leadership was not formalized, he did know one man whom he considered a leader. At least the one in Michigan.


AN: My Ancestor Great Grandfather Simon Johnson is the quintessential American Immigrant story.

Came to this country at the age of 16, and almost fought in the union army, but the war ended before he had the chance, moved to Michigan after he became a citizen, and married a nurse and midwife… Worked for the Docks at Green Bay before he was nearly killed in an industrial accident that nearly had him incinerated because of workers' safety? What about workers' safety?

Note he was only 30 when that happened, but he had enough money to move North to Bear lake, by a riverside farm, of 300 acres, and, at the suggestion of a friend, raised beavers.

This was also when he was still recovering from second-degree burns… on 40% of his body. And he recovered in less than a year.

He became a pillar of his community, built the town's first church, and school, and otherwise did some really fun stuff.

He did get an offer from John Jacob Astor to buy his land and contract him to build beaver farms all over the US (at least according to him), but he told him to fuck off, even when he could have become a millionaire.

He was never extremely successful, but he did have my Great Grandfather become Born in America, and… well the rest is history.

But due to several actions taken in this time, he would choose politics. as well as his chosen profession.


@Physici Hello, I have come bearing gifts of omakes.

Mostly because Cyber talked me into this, so have some fun (and slightly exaggerated) stories about my Great Grandfather.

Also, the party is Land and Labor Reform party

A Little Forward, and a Little Back:

(John Olsen POV)

"I think we made a mistake, gambling on small elections, and not securing more support among the people." His colleague, Art Randolph said as he looked at the ledgers of the expenses. "We will be lucky to make back the funding we spent in Bear Lake and all the other communities. We're hemorrhaging money, and may not be able to continue such actions, we need to fortify-." He paused. "Are you listening to me, John?"

You remind quiet, as you were deep in thought, trying to think, but you were looking past the simplicity that many would see. "I don't see how you could see such things so simple as money Art, but I am very disappointed that that is all you seem to worry about right now. I would think that you would have chosen to think less of it, helping out all those boys and girls with those wilderness skills."

"I hope to almighty god that you think that there are worse things to worry about? We don't have money, we can't spread our message, help the campaigns of the men we are trying to put into political office-" Art was exasperated at that, but instead, John shook his head.

"And that is what you are worried about? Power? Not the ideas we espouse? My god man, I took you for an idealist, not a politician. If I wanted a politician that only cared about the next election I would have gone to the Republican Party." You smiled. "You care for politics, I care for the message."

"That's all well and good sir, but we cannot forget that the only way we can see our ideas put into practice is through politics. Any man who thinks otherwise is a fool." Art replied as he pulled out a cigarette. "Want one?"

"No thanks, not right now." You replied as the match was struck, and the cigarette was lit.

"The problem here is, we have too few supporters, and we will need victories that can see our way into the future. We do not share the same revolutionary values as Marx, and we most certainly do not wish for changing the social order that others won't. Frankly, we're not radical, and no one will listen to us." Art stated.

"I consider that a blessing than a curse. You can't solve every problem in the world at the barrel of a gun." You replied.

"That may be, but we need to win these elections. If not, we may no longer have enough money to see our dreams come to fruition."

That made you stop and think. "What about Johnson, did he ever tell you how much he made from his furs?"

Art shook his head. "Not nearly enough, something around 4,000 dollars per harvest. But he spends almost all of it on his community and his family."

"Is he willing to commercialize, or assist his allies within our movement?" You asked.

'He's very secretive, rumor has it Jacob Astor tried to purchase his secrets. Said he would make him a millionaire." Art shook his head. "He's a fool if it's true."

"No, he's not. Tell him that I want to speak to him, and see if we can maybe see our financial, or even support grow." You replied. "If he is willing."
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Simon said yes.

AN: @Physici I have another Omake for you.

While I write the update, you may vote for which organization you would like to see grow. This is also a good time to form a new organization, if you wish.


[] West Coast Union Association:

[] The Land and Labor Reform Party

[] The Revolutionary Federation of American Anarchists

[] The Forty Acres Movement

[] The Society of Friends of All Faiths

[] American People's Futurist Alliance

[] The Friends of the Huddled Masses

[] The Orange Disciples

[] The Party of Justice

[] The New American Patriots