These stories first appeared in Hunt's Book of Weapons, an in-game collection of found documents curated by an unknown researcher. They are replicated here in their original format. This means that many of the stories are not presented chronologically, or in one grouping, and it is left to the reader to put together the puzzle pieces and determine to what extent they contain fact, fiction, or fable.

Prior to the launch of Hunt: Showdown 1896, the Ranger 73 was named the Winfield M1873. The Infantry 73L was formerly known as the Winfield M1873 Musket. The Our Variant terminology was also simplified. We have updated the names where relevant, but you may still see the more period accurate names within the lore texts.

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Ranger 73

WINFIELD M1873 "RANGER 73". (See also, ONE IN A THOUSAND, RIFLE, WINFIELD REPEATING ARMS COMPANY) Known for its accuracy, long range, and quick fire the M1873's side-loading lever action made it possible to fire many shots in succession without reloading. It was also the first Winfield rifle to use center-fire cartridges.

The Winfield M1873 earned prominence in the United States as a rifle that could be used both for protection in and around the home and for hunting game, particularly buffalo, which it was powerful enough to bring down at 200 yards. After two years of production, the M1873 was so popular that the Winfield Repeating Arms Company started a special line. Specially finished M1873s were engraved with the words "One in a thousand" and sold for $100—quite expensive for the time—and were said to be even more accurate than the standard model.

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Correspondence, Philip Huff Jones
Typewritten, carbon copy

December 7, 1894

Mr. Winfield, Sir,

I am sorry that you thought it necessary to send me such a letter as your last. The troubles of the world have given a morbid tone to your feelings, which it is your duty to discourage. I cannot agree to entertain your proposition, either in justice to yourself or to my own interests. The location in which you have suggested I insert my last letter is suited to the task in neither size nor terrain.

If you did not wish to partner your company with my cause, you had only to say so. Or, perhaps better yet, simply never to have answered, pretending to an error on behalf of the postman.

If by accident you have taken it into your head, if by any sad accident you should believe that I am to be insulted with impunity, I can only assume that you are no better than a beggar's shoe. This one point being distinctly understood, I shall feel myself more at liberty to be explicit. You church bell, you gibface, you hedge creeping plague sore! Your arrogance, or perhaps the success of your company, has turned your brain. What you have clearly failed to understand is the urgency of the situation. Our problems will soon become yours, if they have not already. This is of no small consequence and far beyond the reach of the God on whose mercy you call.

But perhaps there is no need for undue severity. Let us meet as if we had not exchanged letters, and let us pray we never meet.

Philip Huff Jones, M.D.
Superintendent, Louisiana State Asylum at Jackson

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Unpublished manuscript, "Bad As They Seem"
Author: Hayden Collins
Undated
Bleached paper, typewritten, 8.5x11 in

-5-
They closed the shop for one week and went into the swamps to train with the woman who called herself Lynch. Jos, who preferred the sledgehammer to a ranged weapon, who preferred the wet mash of flesh and the crunch of bone reverberating up her arm after a direct hit to the distant ease of long-range firearms, learned to shoot, and a Winfield became her constant companion. Fin, who could Robin Hood any target with a crossbow, practiced with knives, a pistol, and a machete. But the knives were her favorite. Such an intimate way to incapacitate flesh.

It took several days to learn to shoot, but Jos was focused, obsessively so; the twins both were. They took quickly to every weapon Lynch was able to provide, though she had but one trunk: a portable arsenal and their first box of toys.

A pack of rabid dogs were their first real opponents, and the twins slaughtered them with ease, working back to back: methodical, brutal, graceful. Lynch watched from a nearby perch, ready to take down the dogs with her own rifle should the twins prove incompetent, but she found no reason to fire.

Learning to track was more difficult, and local black bears provided the practice they needed. As they learned to read the signs, Lynch described the beings they could expect to face. The gruesome butcher with the head of a pig, skewered with hooks and bits of metal. A giant spider that lurked in dark, enclosed spaces, skittering and fast, clicking and keening and hungry. A tall, spindly killer, deceptive and quick. They would, she explained, receive a large bounty if they were successful in killing creatures like these.

"Then I guess we're going to be rich," Fin said, the rare light of a smile illuminating her lips.

Ranger 73 Aperture

WINFIELD 1873 APERTURE "RANGER 73". (See also, WINFIELD 1873, WINFIELD REPEATING ARMS COMPANY) The Winfield M1873 Aperture was a minor improvement on the original Winfield M1873, one which with a small and simple change offered greatly enhanced accuracy. The aperture sight is simple in its construction, that being the addition of a small disk with a centered hole, known to some as an iris. This makes use of the eye's natural tendency in which it centers objects by allowing the foresight to be seen through the aperture.

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Unpublished manuscript, "Bad As They Seem"
Author: Hayden Collins
Undated
Bleached paper, typewritten, 8.5x11 in

-22-
Into the cave they went, the space narrowing, and then narrowing again until they were forced to crawl. As they rounded a corner—Fin in the lead—they came to a stretch of tunnel hung with the bodies of dozens of gigantic rattlesnakes, strung up like lanterns, writhing and alive. Fin, perhaps half snake now herself, led them on, the cool scaly lengths of reptilian body running the length of their backs as they crawled passed. Not one bite was given. Perhaps the snake's message had traveled farther then they thought. Or, perhaps, the lantern snakes were not to keep people out, but to keep them in.

It had been hours, but still they crawled, snug as corks in a bottle, barely able to breath. They crawled in silence, tongues worrying at the icy stones that bought them passage, their clothing gone from red to brown with dirt and filth. Finally, the tunnel opened out into a large room, ceilings high and spanned with bright banners above a table set for seven. At each place, a figure sat, still as statues.

The twins walked from figure to figure, stones still cold in their mouths. At the side of the smallest figure, the stones glowed red hot. Jos removed the ember stone and placed it in the hand of the small figure. Nothing. Then, a flicker of the eyes and an impish smile.

And the Lord of the Dead could not bar their way, for they had not paid tribute to false idols, but to Him directly. He must answer, and he must let them pass, though they did not know if it would be enough to stop him from preventing their departure.

Ranger 73 Incendiary Ammo

RN: Collins wrote of a Huffington, clearly a proxy for the superintendent. We know now that their relationship was strained. Perhaps he took satisfaction in writing of his death, though we know now that heralded a greater time of chaos and desperation.

Ranger 73 Poison Ammo

RN: Other notable mentions of the Lord of the Dead both corroborate and conflict with Collins' writings. A shared delusion perhaps? I now believe so much that I once disparaged that it would be wrong to dismiss it too hastily.

Ranger 73 Talon

WINFIELD M1873 "RANGER 73" TALON. (See also, BLADED WEAPONS, RIFLE) The Winfield Talon is a brutal variation of the much-lauded side-loading, lever-action, repeating Winfield M1873. With a modified blade resembling a cleaver or axe head attached to the stock. The Winfield M1873 Talon can be used effectively at both a considerable distance and in hand-to-hand combat. The Talon can also be put to efficacious use to chop light undergrowth and to roughly butcher game while in the field.

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Unpublished manuscript, "Bad As They Seem"
Author: Hayden Collins
Undated
Bleached paper, typewritten, 8.5x11 in

-24-
No one living remembers their own birth. Trauma re-shapes memory, leaving in its place a sardonic likeness. But the Dead remember. Careening towards birth and—for a time—away from death and away from fear, the Dead are formidable foes. The time spent in the Land of the Dead is a time of regeneration, of rest. The Dead build their halls of their own bones, and dine on their own flesh.

Beyond the first Hall of Bones is the Hall of Fire, and in it pools of tar burn eternal, filling the air with a thick oily smoke among which the dead walk. The twins, who had won the favor of the Lord of the Dead, walked freely among them now, though none acknowledged their presence. He had challenged them to a knife throwing contest. The fool. Knives had been one of their first playthings.

After that, it was easy to obtain what they had come for. In 14 years, he would come to return it to its resting place. Until then, the scorched and strangely etched bladed fire arm was theirs, a loyal servant to their cause.

Ranger 73 High Velocity Ammo

RN: After Huff, the AHA is a shadow of its former self. Perhaps the situation could've been better contained. But we'll never know. Controversial to put to word, but many now believe Huff was a symptom of our degradation, not the cause. That he should gain a position of prominence was certainly our own failure.

Ranger 73 Swift

WINFIELD M1873 "RANGER 73" SWIFT. (See also, RIFLE, WINFIELD M1873) The Winfield M1873 Swift is a classic Winfield M1873 in design, differing only from the original in that it is equipped with a loading pipe attachment for increased reloading speed. This allows one to reload—with one swift push—and is the feature that gave the weapon its name.

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Unpublished manuscript, "Bad As They Seem"
Author: Hayden Collins
Undated
Bleached paper, typewritten, 8.5x11 in

-23-
Long you've heard tales of their prowess in the hunt, and so you can, perhaps, imagine how easily they fought their way through the caves, across the field of knives and past the razor wolves—dogs were, after all, their very first trial—and to the weapon Huffington had described, thus securing their rite of return passage from the Lord of the Dead, for it gave them the power to take his life for good. Fin and Jos returned to Lynch, and they did not return empty handed.

When they handed the strange weapon over to Lynch, the skin on her hands was left wreathed in frost. But as they were dressed in fiery red, dressed in blood, the twins had not been bothered by the wretched blade's icy burn.

As Lynch wrapped it in red silk, Jos offered to deliver it to Huffington. "No need, no need," her voice was quiet, reverent, a near whisper. "Huffington is dead." With that she called for her attendant, a girl they had never seen before, who carefully carried it from the room.

"By whose hand?" Fin asked, wary.

"By mine."

The twins remained silent. What they thought of this revelation was a secret they'd take to their graves, sooner or later. “How did he offend you?" Jos asked.

"He was arrogant, and growing bolder. He needed to be put in his place. His place being a shallow grave." Lynch looked to the twins. "But there are more important things to think about now. What you brought back is extremely important. But there is more."

The only sound Fin made was a metallic hiss, as she sharpened her blade.

"There is a second weapon," Lynch said. "Now that I know you can gain entry to The Butcher's house, I would ask you return for something else."

The twins looked wary, the words from that fateful vision echoing in their ears: Lynch is not to be trusted. But they would go. They would go, and this time, they would not hand off their prize.

Ranger 73 FMJ Ammo

RN: The more I pour over the works of Collins, the more I consider how much it must fit into the overall picture. A vital source that's guided so much of what we know—but also limited in its scope. What I need is new sources, new stories. How sure are they to come?

Infantry 73L Bayonet

WINFIELD M1873 MUSKET "INFANTRY 73L" BAYONET (See also, WINFIELD M1873) The first muskets date back to the early 16th century, when the design was favored for its ability to penetrate heavy armor. Though the original musket fell from favor as the use of such armor declined, the term continued to be used for any long-muzzled flintlock in the centuries that followed.

The popularity of Winfield's M1873 Musket design has been attributed by historians to a period of nostalgia for “simpler times" among firearms enthusiasts, though one infamous researcher made notable fool of himself by claiming it was created specifically to counter a strange alleged new breed of creature appearing in various American backwaters—one whose papery, tough armor would necessitate such firepower. However, like many apostles of folklore before and after, he was discredited and went to his grave the laughing stock of his peers, and was certainly never employed by this fine publisher of encyclopedias, you can rest assured.

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Journal of James Byrne
Handwritten, original
Incomplete, chronology could not be determined
2/?

I have met with Finch, and I fear I was correct. The man is mad. We met at the kind of dining establishment where I could not afford the price of a slice of bread—I was not wrong about his financial standings—and he got straight to the point. Immortal, was the word he used. Complete and utter madness.

I did not take him seriously, of course, but he met my laughter with a grim smile. He leaned back in his chair and simply watched my reaction to his words in silence as it progressed from mirth to confusion and back to mirth again. But I was determined to humor him. In exchange for patronage, I would be willing to overlook quite a lot of eccentricities, and I made light of his words.

But my mood changed when he admitted to having observed me for some time. Perhaps I should be thankful to know that one has enjoyed my performances so much, but instead I felt uneasy. There is something hard and serious in his eyes I do not like. I could not say why, but it was as if his gaze brought with it a cold draft of air that sent goosebumps up and down my arms.

He took my jokes in stride, but did not veer from his purpose. We are two of a kind, he said, and when I told him I did not see what we had in common, he told me I would in time. At that he laughed. "It took me many, many years to understand as well," he said, then spoke of the wives he had buried before he had accepted his fate. I struggled to remain cordial, fearing the man a murderer or fiend, but my confusion was evident on my face, and caused him further mirth, and me then further confusion still. At that he called for the bill, leaving me alone to finish my meal, and saying we would meet again. In that moment I grew bolded and spoke directly of the chance of patronage. More of a mentor, dear James, he said. More of a mentor.

And so I remain with no funds, evicted from my room, and without patronage. I have his card—he appears be employed at the asylum in Jackson—and have not lost hope in parting him from a few coins. Tonight, I will set out for the bayou. Aidan mentioned there were many empty houses there, and perhaps I can find one suited to shelter me for a few nights.

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