<br/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/65/Judgehawkins.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Judge Warwick<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dogs (4)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Late Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Judge Warwick’s House<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open, Matthew Ford<br/><hr/>The Judge’s home was a short walk down the southwest road from the town square where they’d met, and he kept a firm pace for a man of advanced age.  “This is Limbo Avenue,” he offered, giving a smile over his shoulder.  “Gomorra, Soddom - “ he pointed to the south and east, though the tent city on the mesa to the southeast was invisible.  “Limbo Avenue, Temptation Road - the people of Gomorra have a curious preoccupation with Perdition, and for all that had only one church.”  He gave a small shrug and an amused smile, and gave a little nod to Blue, who left his side and jogged ahead down the road.<br/><br/>“Blue has been my constable for the last year, but there was an attempt upon my life a few nights ago.  The boy hasn’t left my side since, and spent too many nights up without sleep.  Hopefully a second constable around will give the poor young man the chance to sleep from time to time.”<br/><br/>He walked slowly, looking back to the man and his unusual redskin wife.  There was no sign of the normal prejudice exerted upon the men and women of her color, only curiosity.<br/><br/>“Mrs. Ford, a word of caution - the mesa of Soddom is not a pleasant place for a woman.  We do our best to keep some semblance of order there, but violence against womenfolk is… particular and not uncommon.  I’d advise you avoid it, unless accompanied by your husband or another armed man you trust.”<br/><br/>He tipped his hat, then stopped and turned down an alley towards a courtyard hidden behind the large, expensive buildings to the west of the Tracks.  There looked to be a theater, a library, a museum and an art gallery.  The courtyard he led the way to was surrounded by other large homes, well crafted if veering just short of opulent.  “This is my home,” he offered, gesturing with a hand, and drew to a pause.  Blue emerged from the door, and gave a smile and a thumb’s up.  Warwick noted it and smiled in return, mounting the stone steps to the deck that wrapped around the front, and patted Blue’s shoulder as he passed him.<br/><br/>“I’m afraid Gomorra is a bit short of regular supply of fresh food, but we make do.  You’re welcome to either of the guest bedrooms on the upstairs floor,” he offered, “I’ll get started on a dinner.  Please, make yourselves at home.  I assume your wagon is at one of the ranches outside of town?”<br/><br/>