1849, Chihuahuan Countryside

From the stampede & dust, they charge, a legion of horribles, 500 strong, half naked or clad in costumes attic or biblical or wardrobed out of a fevered dream with the skins of animals & silk finery & pieces of uniform still tracked with the blood of prior owners, coats of slain dragoons, frogged & braided cavalry jackets, one in a stovepipe hat & one with an umbrella & one in white stockings & a bloodstained weddingveil & some in headgear of cranefeathers or rawhide helmets that bore the horns of bull or buffalo & one in a pigeontailed coat worn backwards & otherwise naked & one in the armor of a spanish conquistador, the breastplate & pauldrons deeply dented with old blows of mace or saber done in another country by men whose very bones were dust & many with their braids spliced up with the hair of other beasts until they trailed upon the ground & their horses’ ears & tails worked with bits of brightly colored cloth & one whose horse’s whole head was painted crimson red & all the horsemen’s faces gaudy & grotesque with daubings like a company of mounted clowns, death hilarious, all howling in a barbarous tongue & riding down upon the Filibusters like a horde from a hell more horrible yet than the brimstone land of Christian reckoning, screeching & yammering & clothed in smoke like those vaporous beings in regions beyond right knowing where the eye wanders & the lip jerks & drools...

Sgt. Trammel: "Oh my god"

A rattling drove of arrows passed through the Company & men tottered & dropped from their mounts. Horses were rearing & plunging & the mongol hordes swung up along their flanks & turned & rode full upon them with lances. The massacre of Cpt. White's 250 Filibusters begins.

You're on horseback, riding beside the Company's wagon & mule supply train, when the massacre begins. Near you: Cpt. White & his command, The Kid, & Sgt. Trammel.

(Briefly describe your persona, describe your action, survive at all costs!)

[Narrate your actions in turn by turn format]