Jebidiah Clarkson

A Texas Ranger that believes a man's honor and justice holds more weight than the law in the untamed West.



  • Height: 6’3”
  • Weight: 180
  • Hair Color: Black
  • Eye Color: Grey
  • Distinguishing Features: A rather large, thick mustache.


  • Agility: d8
  • Smarts: d6
  • Spirit: d6
  • Strength: d6
  • Vigor: d6


  • Pace 6
  • Parry 5
  • Charisma 0
  • Toughness 5


  • Fighting (Agility) d6
  • Guts (Spirit) d6
  • Intimidation (Spirit) d6
  • Notice (Smarts) d4
  • Riding (Agility) d4
  • Shooting (Agility) d8
  • Streetwise (Smarts) d6
  • Survival (Smarts) d4
  • Tracking (Smarts) d4


  • Code of Honor (Major)
  • Loyal (Minor)
  • Vow (Minor) To seek justice for his father.


  • Marksman

    +2 to Shoot if no movement.

  • Two Fisted

    May attack with a weapon in each hand, with no multi action penalty.


  • Weapon Accessories

    Gun Belt, 2 Quick Draw Holsters (-1 multi-action penalty), Rifle Boot

  • Weapons
  • 2 Colt Peacemakers (0.45) | 12/24/48 | 2d6+1 | 6 rounds | AP1 |
  • Winchester ‘76 | 24/48/96 | 2d8 | 15 rounds | AP2 |
  • 2 Knives | Str + d4 |
  • Bowie Knife | Str + d4 + 1 | AP1 |
  • Ammo

    200 rounds rifle ammo, 400 rounds pistol ammo

  • Misc Gear

    Back Pack, Bedroll, 3 Canteens, 2 Handcuffs, Harmonica, Hatchet, 3 Boxes of Matches, Mess Kit, 50’Rope

  • Horse

    with Saddle, 2 Saddle Bags

  • Cash




The Early Years

Jebidiah’s father, Elijah, was one of the original Rangers, handpicked to protect the people of the great Republic of Texas. In this, he excelled. Elijah was a lawman’s lawman. Respected and feared. Not a man to be trifled with. His stern demeanor and steely gaze was enough to get all but the wildest of outlaws to meekly surrender. Or so the legend goes.

Elijah found love late in life, marrying Mary Beth Anders when he was approaching fifty. She was young, beautiful, and had the strength of character needed in a wife of a feared lawmen. She did not just give in to him as did some of the ruffians Elijah dealt with; this earned his respect. As such, Mary Beth softened the hard edged Ranger’s heart. He grew to love her more and more each day. Almost a year after their wedding, Jebidiah was born.

Elijah loved his boy with a fierce love, the kind of love warriors of bygone days had for their sons. Jebidiah was trained to follow in his father’s footsteps as a Ranger. These lessons were gladly taken to heart. Elijah was Jebidiah’s hero as well as his father. Jebidiah wanted nothing more than to wear the star on his father’s proud chest.

Into the Rangers

Jebidiah learned how to shoot, ride, and fight from his father. Six shooters, rifles, scatterguns, and knives are the tools of the trade of a Ranger. The most important skill, however, is being able to use your wits. Thinking about a situation instead of charging in blind can make all the difference. As his father said, “There are plenty of graveyards in the West full of upstart gunslingers who were fast but stupid. Speed can save you, but stupid will get you killed every time.”

From his mother, he got a proper education. She insisted that it would make him a better man. History, reading, writing, and math were her gifts to him. Maybe not as obvious as what he learned from his father, they were just as valuable. It was during the lessons that Jebidiah understood the quiet strength his mother had. This is what gave him the respect for women that is a rare thing in the men of the West.

When he came of age, Jebidiah joined the Rangers. It was what he was born and bred to do.

Tragedy Strikes

Jebidiah was a natural as a Ranger. He was the epitome of what they wanted their men to be, strong, brave, and sure. He was also incorruptible. No amount of money would cause him to violate his honor. That went against Jebidiah’s very nature. The Rangers fully expected him to rise through their ranks quickly.

By this time, Elijah had moved up the ranks and saw more time behind a desk than on a horse. One day, however, he received a mysterious telegram. He told his son that there was Ranger business needing attending to and nothing more. He rode off on a foggy morning, never to be seen again.

The Rangers gave Jebidiah no answers. He was told his father was dead and to leave matters alone. Elijah was given a hero’s funeral with the honors afforded a Ranger of his stature. This left a bitter pill in Jebidiah’s mouth. Burying an empty coffin did not honor his father. Leaving justice undone, did not honor his father. Seeing what happened to his mother, did not honor his father.

Mary Beth was never the same. The loss of the love of her life broke her in a way nothing else could. She became quiet and withdrawn. She had a widow’s pension to live on, but that wasn’t compensation. Jebidiah could manage to still bring a smile to her face (he was her beloved son after all), but, without Elijah, Mary Beth was a broken, sad woman. Jebidiah could not abide this and his anger grew.

Seeing his mother’s suffering and the failure of the Rangers to pursue justice shattered Jebidiah’s faith in the law. He still believed in justice, honor, and doing the right thing. He still had his code. The law, however, was not about any of those things. As such, it was no longer a useful thing in Jebidiah’s eyes.

The Road to Cleaver

Jebidiah’s superiors began having problems with his performance. Not that he was lazy or crooked. He just had his own way of enforcing the law. Too many of the men Jebidiah pursued never saw trial.

The tipping point was when Jebidiah found some suspicious connections between some higher ups in the Rangers and the rich and powerful. Cattle Barons, Railroad Tycoons, and the like had some deal going on with the Rangers. Jebidiah began to suspect this is what lead to his father’s death. Any lingering shred of respect for the law was now swept away.

Asking too many questions got Jebidiah sent to Cleaver. Jebidiah thought it must be the worst assignment a Ranger could have since he had never heard of the place. Jebidiah is now on his way there to see what further adventures await.


This journal has been pieced together by historians analyzing those involved with the events of Cleaver County. The journal was found in tatters. The years and the exact order of the entries have yet to be determined.

August 23rd

“Never could stand the Sheriff of Two Pines. The man was on the take and turned a blind eye to shameful things going on in his town. Things I just could not abide.

He would not arrest any man who raped one of the saloon gals. Felt that, with their profession, they got what was coming to them. I am not a man to justify whoring, but, violating a woman is violating a woman. No matter how she earns a living.

The Sheriff and I had a discussion about this. I left the town in need of a new lawman. Hopefully, this one will be more honest.”

June 5th

“I was riding up to Yellowrock when I noticed the tent. Yellowrock is a tough, little town full of miners and the like. The people there were honest and not much crime to speak of.

That’s why the tent stood out. Sign on it said, ‘Doc Black’s Celestial Darlings.’ As a lawman you get a sense of things. Things that just ain’t right. This was one of those.

I went into the tent to see what’s what. A city looking fellow came up to me and started yammering about having what I needed. Put me in the mind of a snakeoil salesmen only seedier. Something was wrong.

Then this cow turd tells me that I need some of his special form of relaxation after a hard ride. He brings out the girls.

None of them were women. Some of them probably never even saw there moonblood yet. They were all young. Too young. Don’t know whether they were from China or some other place in the Orient. Didn’t particularly care. Just cause a child’s daddy is a Chinaman doesn’t give cause for something like this.

Out of the the things I hate the most, stealing the innocence of a child tops the list. These children didn’t have the shy smiles and love of life a child should have. Their eyes were dead. Like a fish. That didn’t sit well with me at all. These girls would have justice.

Snakeoil was promptly shot in the head. Flopped around for a bit. Hoped he suffered. I then went in the back and found me Doc Black. He died slow and painful like. Amazing what the Indians will teach you when you give them a little respect.

Have to contact the Rangers tomorrow to see if we can find some sort of home for these girls.”


-“My father raised me to have a pair. I reckon this is because he wanted a son. It is obvious to me that, from your yammerin’, your father wanted a girl and that is exactly what he got.”

-“I ain’t one of those white hat types from the dime novels. Ain’t got enough mercy in me for that. Those who do evil should have evil done to them.”

-“The law is kind of a finicky thing. It doesn’t have the same hold out here as it does in the big cities. Jails and trials maybe good for city folk, but, out here a bullet can be a surer form of justice.”

-“A real man doesn’t hurt women, children, or old folk. Those who do such things need a lesson on what being a man means. I am always happy to oblige.”

-“While the law can fail to provide justice, my guns never do.”

-“That feller may be a little bit on the fancy side. Don’t bother me none what side of the saddle he rides on. If he can handle himself in a fight, stands up for what is true, he is ok in my book.”

-“Never did pay much mind to whether a man is white, a chinaman, an injun, or a negro. Their character and sense of honor says more than the color of their skin.”

Jebidiah Clarkson

Tales from the Bone Orchard BrianLong