From the Journal of the Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley

2/2/1885 -

We are Pulling out of Chicago heading for some hell hole called Council Buffs, Iowa. God only knows what we are going to find when we get there.

2/4/1885 -

Well, we have arrived at what I can only describe as an outpost on the edge of the civilized world. We stopped in to the livery to get horses and find a guide, and there I met the most enchanting woman I have ever laid eyes on. Red hair, pale skin, absolutely beautiful. So, knowing that no woman can resist my charms, I asked her out for dinner that evening, and she accepted. The rest of the boys went on to secure our guide, and get things ready for the trip out to the savages. Dinner was an absolute delight. So much so, that I even stayed partially sober. We said our good nights, and I retired to the comforts of a local inn.

2/9/1885 -

Well, the talisman is ours. After spending almost a week in the cold and the wild, we have acquired our objective. Running Water took us out to meet the Shaman Proud Elk, the owner of the talisman. After being hunted by something called a windigo, and having to worry about being scalped, we finally were allowed an audience with the Shaman. After some negotiating, trading him our opium, and winning some sort of smoking competition with him, we were given the talisman, which on closer inspection is a pretty amazing artifact. It can sense the undead, as well as provide a certain amount of protection against them. It can also allow you to speak with one of them, as well as make a place holy. The agency should be quite pleased with our work. On our way back, I discovered that Running Water was trying to give us some sort of sleeping draught so he could take the talisman and turn it over to the Theosophical Society, who had been after the very same item. Well, a little magic on my part, and intimidation on Gus' part, and he seemed to forget all about it. Needless to say when we arrived back at Council Bluffs we returned the horses, I gave Faye enough cash to come to St. Louis, if she so chose, and we promptly boarded our train for St. Louis.

2/17/1885 -

Well, it has been a productive couple of days. We arrived back in St. Louis and got our money from the Agency. Then it was on to our personal affairs. I have finally started brewing, and Clay has procured a brewing assistant for me. I should be ready to start selling, some time by the end of the month. I also had a meeting with Mayor Francis, and am working on a brand new idea for aiding my political aspirations. I also found some books on patent law, which is a pretty new thing, so I am investigating patenting my concoctions.

I also received a summons from the Arch-bishops of both St. Louis and Baltimore. Seems they have taken an interest in MR. Kestrall's sword, and have made me a very difficult offer to refuse. The sword in exchange for the church's "help" in my political career. I tell you, it is a hell of a thing. 2 months ago, I would not have thought twice about stealing this man's possession if I though it could help me in the least. Now, I don't know. Something has happened. I'm getting soft. I told Gus immediately, and he came up with a plan to forge a fake sword and give it to them. We will see if that works, but I doubt it.

We also received word from the Theosophical Society has granted us membership, and will be in town soon to conduct the ceremonies. I am not sure what all that means, but I think we should all keep our guard up.

Last night we checked out a grave robber who we were tipped off to by a couple of Agency prigs. Turns out they were sent to tail us after the Train Robbery, and then just decided to ask for Gus' help off the books. I don't like the looks of either one of them. Lyons and Gentleman Johnny Muir. Please! We did some investigation and discovered that some drunk frog was being tormented to go and look for some finger bone cross in old French graves. Gus seemed to be very interested in it. I was much more interested in who frenchy said was doing the tormenting. Turns out to be "The Devil Man, Mr. J.W. Booth". I talked to Bullock about this immediately. After some deliberation he said that if we got evidence on Booth, we could do something. And this evening, Clay and I did a pretty poor job of competing in a Poker Tournament. It has been a long time without sleep, so I am going to call it a day and put down my pen, ending the story of this weeks events.

2/18/1885 -

Bullock informed me that the savages have taken Faye and want to exchange her for the talisman. I'm leaving for Council Bluffs today.

NPC Inventory, Volume 4

Russ Colgate, Head of The Agency's Chicago Branch

Dewey McLemore, High-end Tailor

Gen. Abner Doubleday, Union Army Commander at Gettysburg, high-ranking member of the Theosophical Society

Albert Spalding, owner, Chicago White Stockings and Spalding's Sporting Goods; member of the Theosophical Society

Adrian "Cap" Anson, Mike "King" Kelly, and Jim McCormick - Chicago White Stockings players

Running Water, Sioux Scout

Proud Elk, Sioux Shaman

Fernando Giorgio, Spanish-Italian dandy

Faye Jorgenson, livery operator in Council Bluff, Iowa

Harrison Carter, Mayor of Chicago

Mayer Lehman, head of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange

Garrett Blocker, young huckster and card shark, last seen operating in Pueblo, CO

Titian Ramsay Peale, environmentalist, photographer, inventor

Bat Masterson, Sheriff of Pueblo, CO

Philip Horton Nelson, surveyor and prospector in Pueblo, CO

Stories in the Hyde Park Herald (Chicago Newspaper)

IN GAME DATE: February 2, 1885 (Thursday)

Stories in the Hyde Park Herad:

1. Statement from The Mutual Lite Insurance Company of record for 1884

2. Story of the Ice Industry in Chicago

3. Criticism of the British Foriegn Policy in the Sudan.

4. 100 New Books donated to the Lyceum Reading Room by Gen. Abner Doubleday

5. Illinois legislature proposes redistricting for state congress.

6. Review of the recently completed Washington Monument in DC

7. Re-print of Darius Hellstromme's wedding announcement (1st published in Chicago)

8. Improvement plan ratified for the docks along the Calumet River - expected to add several labor jobs.

9. Major social event of the season - Mayor Harrison's birthday party - at the Kenwood Club tonight.

10. Boy, John Fedke, 13, died while walking the train tracks near Hyde Park. Mr. Fedke, who was deaf, is the son of prominent Chicago lawyer Ramses Fedke.

11. 3 Fine Horses for Sale - 123 Brompton Street. See Asa Taylor.

12. Harry Scully lead elocution seminar at 75 22nd Street. Mr. Scully, of the Boston School of Oratory.

13. Editorial - the odd people of Pennsylvania and their Groundhog ritual.

From the Journal of the Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley

February 1, 1885 -

Ohhh, my head. To say I feel like I have been accosted by a locomotive would be an understatement. It seems I have, again, been remiss in writing, so what follows are the high, and low lights of the last few weeks.

After a short stop in Pueblo, Colorado, where I received the honor of being photographed, we boarded a train and crossed the plains to Chicago. What a wonderful city! It has all of the comforts of the civilized metropolis' you find back east, but it still has the frontier elements that allow someone like myself to move freely between the cracks. Upon arriving we went to meet our contact, Yancey Fairchild. We met him at a little restaurant that serves something called pizza. It is basically a piece of Italian flat bread with tomato sauce and cheese spread on it. Then they put various meats on top of that and bake it. Not the worst thing in the world, but I can't see such a foreign tasting food catching on here in the good old US of A.

Anyway, we meet up with Mr. Fairchild and he tells us we are to meet the head of the Chicago Branch, Mr. Rusty Colgate, tomorrow morning. So the good Dr. Sanbell and I decide to take in the best that this fair city has to offer. And let me tell you what, it has allot to offer! We make our way to the nicest casino/saloon in town where we are greeted by a man named Fernando Giorgio, who has one of the finest suits I have ever seen. After a discussion of his tailor and cobbler he takes us to a table to play some cards. Here we were introduced to a man who runs the Chicago Mercantile Exchange named Meyer Laymen and a certain Rusty Colgate. After a pleasant evening of libation and other vices I headed off to bed.

The next morning I set out in search of Dewey MacLamore and Theodore Castle - Fernando's brilliant tailor and cobbler. After I place my order with them it's off to the Agency HQ to get info on this talisman or something. I am not quite sure. When we arrive, Colgate meets us outside and says we can't go in because something has happened and all the employees are acting "strange". Well, either Murphy or Gus decided the "right" thing to do was go and investigate, so we went in. I am in no way comfortable with the heroics of these two men. I fear that I will wind up quite dead because of their savior complex.

Once we enter, we realize that Colgate was underselling the behavior of his employees. There were people hiding under desks, and talking to people that they "saw" on the ceiling. To be fair even Murphy and myself got a little spooked. No pun intended. I cast a spell that provided a safe place for us to operate and we started putting the affected people in that space. That seemed to clear up their head a bit. Murphy found a room with some weird device that seemed to be causing all of this. He disabled it with his rifle, and then everything seemed to get back to normal. Of course, he couldn't wait till I was done perusing the restricted section of the library, but I suppose expediency was the right course of action.

Later that day, Gus approaches me and informs me that if we are to be taken seriously out on the frontier, then perhaps my traveling attire needs to be re-thought. Apparently, my "friends" thought it would be funny to make me look like a complete ass. When I think about that hat, and those ridiculous chaps . . . well, justice will be served. Just not yet. Regardless, I digress.

That evening, Murphy comes to us and says he has been approached by a member of the Theosophical Society about entrance. Of course, I am all for hearing the pitch. We go to a particular bar and there in front of me are star members of the White Stockings! Cap Anson, and Kelly, as well as their owner Spalding. I tried my best to convey how much the fine city of Baltimore would appreciate their services, but I'm not sure I got through. It was quite an honor to be sitting here with these men, OH! And Abner Doubleday was there. Gen. Doubleday himself! He is the Grand High Mucky Muck for this chapter I'm guessing. After a little more baseball talk, he starts in on his pitch. Something about Science and Truth and knowledge. To be honest, I didn't really listen. I am not sure how informed this group is in the ways of demon binding, but if they have access to older copies of the book, or access to powers greater than my own, I must find out, so I say "sign me up". Either I will be able to expand my power, or they will have nothing. If the latter holds true, then I will be their new master and I will have access group of devoted followers who just happen to be held in very high social esteem.

As the evening progresses we head back to some Theosophical headquarters and learn more. Doubleday intimates that they have old copies of the book here, and at this point I am ready to put my name on the line. Then Gus decides he has some trumped up issues about a church that doesn't even want him to be a member. That guy sure could benefit from a bad drunk and a good lay. After telling Doubleday that three of us are game, he tells us that the vetting will begin and we leave. This was a bit disappointing, to say the least. We stop in at a saloon and do quite nicely at the poker table. And I have the good fortune to be at the table with the Hon. Mayor of Chicago. We spend some time discussing the threats facing our great nation, and he seemed, to me, the type of man I could use in my fold. I will need to find a way to get a little more time with his honor.

This morning, I got up, and went to see Colgate. I asked to have my criminal history sealed and he said he would see what he could do. I figure if I am going to be playing cards with the Mayor and getting vetted by the high society type, I ought to hide as much of my past as possible. Then I brought up the Theosophical Society to Mr. Colgate and he became immediately apoplectic. Apparently the Society has been in the habit of stealing agents from him. I told him I would do my best to investigate what was occurring. After that I met up with the rest of the group to share what I had just learned. Murphy suggested we go back to the society and have a little chat.

When we arrived at the building we found it abandoned and emptied. Like nothing had been there at all. I suspect that the society knew we were agents all along and were hunting for us for some reason. Murphy decides we should go to an opium den to see if we can find any members for questioning. Now I couldn't let him walk into a den alone, so Sanbell and I went with him. I loaded my pipe and after that things get a little hazy. All I remember is this guy talking about the man who makes the bad dreams - Booth. I don't know quite what to make of all this yet.

The next thing I remember is gut wrenching pain, and a feeling like I wanted to climb out of my skin. Apparently Gus decided he would clear my head of the opium by stopping all of the toxins that were running through my body. Now that might not sound like much, but for a man who has spent the last decade always a little drunk, it was a living hell. After 10 years of whiskey for breakfast lunch and dinner, the real world looked frightening, to say the least. In addition, the pain in my body was immense, so Gus took mercy on me and did something to stop the pain. After that, I felt great, and wanted to go out for a drink. Gus then reminded me that I couldn't feel it because of the magic he had performed. That is when I got the best idea I had had in months. If I couldn't get drunk for the next 4 hours, then it seemed only right that I take advantage of that. Sanbell and I went out to find a drinking contest for usto scam.

And we found one! This little hovel of a bar, filled with the worst Chicago had to offer ended up putting up close to $7,000 for this contest. And as we are looking for an opponent, the biggest man in the room sits down to challenge me. The biggest man in the room being one Augustine Kestrall! That no good son of a bitch decided he was going to "teach me a lesson" and performed the same magic on himself! Needless to say, I fought hard, but could not beat that bastard. I passed out and the next thing I know I am here being slapped awake by Murphy, who smells strangely of smoke. I am not sure where the other two are, but once my head stops pounding, I have a few choice words for Mr. Kestrall! Now, however, I can't hardly keep my head off the pillow, so I set down my pen and end the story of the last few weeks events.

Elijah Q. Gridley's Fancy New Suit

http://www.gentlemansemporium.com/gentlemans.php

Oh, you'll love it.

In particular, you'll love Gridley's new Jarvis Frock Suit, which he can wear with the vest that is made for it, or this striking double-breasted Baker City Vest, replete with silk tie, OR the brown Medallion Ascot. His shoes are italian leather, although he'll be quick to correct you that they're actually boots - but I think Murphy, Gus, and Clayton might disagree.

For those cold winter days, he'll be protected by a Highland Winter Frock Coat, replete with white cashmere scarf and deerskin dress gloves. And adorning his crown is this smart John Bull-style top hat that says, "watch your guard now, rapscallion. This is no dandy you're dealing with! Now, move along, lest you find yourself on the wrong side of a dust-up!" And, of course, the requisite arm and sock garters, as well as smart suspenders. The cherry on top of this sundae is a pair of otter fur-lined spats that are of my own invention - these will keep his ankles and feet both warm and fabulous.

From the Journal of Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley

January 19th, 1885 -

It has been 8 days since my last entry, and they have been a whirlwind indeed. As I have been remiss in logging the events of the past week, what follows is at best the highlights.

I awoke on the morning of the 12th to find a note from the Agency telling us to "lay low" after the events of the train robbery. I went downstairs and had breakfast in the Sanbel's dining room while I perused the paper. I found an estate sale in St. Charles that looked promising. There was also some mention of the train robbery as well as a call for Rev. Strong's prayer meeting that night. I must say, I am not comfortable with another Rev. finding his way into the headlines. As I was on my way out of town, I stumbled across St. Louis' fine Mayor Francis giving a speech, and decided it was time to begin the cultivation of a relationship with this man. After the speech, I "negotiated" my way into his office for a little one on one conversation. After making a healthy contribution to Mr. Francis' re-election campaign, my colleagues and I headed off to the Agency for payment after last night's "job".

We find Mr. Rigby and he gives us our cash, as well as a small vial that he claims contains a healing potion of sorts. If I can figure out how this was brewed, there will be no end to my earning ability, and it won't be considered quackery. This poses to be a turning point for the good Rev. Col. I must begin examining this immediately. We also discover that our puritanical employer Mr. Bullock is none too pleased with our exploits last night, as, apparently, this was all of Mr. Rigby's design and was not completely sanctioned by the Agency. I had no problem with this, but the virtuous Mr. Kestrall took a good deal of umbrage for being forced to steal from innocent people. Hopefully his rose colored view of the world will soon wear off and he will come to realize that everyone is guilty. All of us.

After business was done for the day, I had a need to rid myself of my new found wealth, so Clayton and I decided it was time to start investing in our futures. We are now the proud owners of a prairie schooner. This should be a perfect vehicle for both of our endeavors. After that we went back to the Sanbell and found ourselves at a card table with a most interesting gentleman by the name of Samuel Clemens. He was one of the most engaging and well spoken men I have yet to encounter. We had a delightful time, and the next morning, he gave me a copy of a manuscript he was getting ready to send off. A heartwarming tale of a young boy fending for himself on the Mississippi River. The only critique I had was that this boy's travelling partner was a savage named Jim. I could have done without that. But I digress.

The next morning we departed for St. Charles, which is a wealthy little neighborhood outside of St. Louis. There, Mr. Sanbell and I hit a goldmine. Our wagon is now outfitted with a fully stocked bar, and a gaming table, as well as enough crates and trunks to house all of our contra ban. I also picked up a very nice brewing kit, so I should be able to start up the potion business again, very soon. Then Mr. Sanbell decided it was time for us to have a base of operations, and purchased a house in a nice quiet neighborhood. Indeed, when the ball gets rolling, it really gets rolling. I feel the need to step up my game.

After that we go to the West End to celebrate, and get word of a man named Lempe and some nonsense about a ghost. I figure this is the perfect time to run the Dr. Perth exorcism scam on him. However Mr. Kestrall had much better luck with the man and I went back to the poker table where "Dr. Perth" made quite a contribution to Rev. Col. Gridley's political future.

Gus went to inspect Mr. Lempe's house and comes back talking about a real ghost and something being under the Indian cave. It gets so, that you tend to just let him ramble on about his superstitions till it is all out of his system. Regardless, he believed it worth investigating, and as he is the best bodyguard a man like my self could ask for, I decided to indulge him.

To make a long story very short. Mr. Lempe was a brewer, and it seems Mr. Lempe was working with his man-servant, Edgar, to eliminate the competition in a less than legal way. They would then store the bodies in some alcove beneath his own brewery. We must have found 12-15 bodies down there, and we added a few more when Mr. Lempe's thugs tried to leave us in there to perish. Well, we made out way out and went back to Lempe's where we confronted Edgar, who took full responsibility for the crimes. Now, for the first, and maybe last time, Gus and I were in agreement that Lempe could not get off Scott free on this issue, so we restrained Edgar, and went to find Lempe. On our way the most unbelievable thing happened.

Bullock approaches us on the street and says he has a fourth member for our little cadre - a "man" know as Justice Murphy. This man is black. I am at a loss of words to accurately describe how I feel. All I will say is that so far, he seems to know his place and does not mind posing as property. It is just unfortunate that he is posing.

Back at the West End as we were about to approach Lempe, Edgar, who somehow got free of his constraints, comes running in. We grab Lampe, Edgar and head out into the alley. After that it all gets a little blurry. By the end of the night, Lempe and Edgar are dead, the ghost is gone, and I am up $300 at the Sanbell's gambling table.

On the morning of the 14th, I am awoken with a telegram that says my mother has passed in El Paso and I am named the sole inheritor of the estate. I will not begin to mention the problems I had with this news. Needless to say, I thought it might bring me closer to discovering the identity of my parents. I gather my things and book passage for Texas immediately. After a fairly uneventful train ride through the dunce belt, I arrived in El Paso, which I suppose is Mexican for "Can pass for Mexico". We decided to hit up a "cantina" for a drink, and some cards. It was there where I was introduced to the strongest liquid I have ever imbibed. Something called tequila. I have faint memories of them making fun of my clothing, something about a locals cousin, and then I think I was carried to bed. I am not really sure. But on the matter of clothing, I have noticed that no one is dressed the way I am. I am starting to wonder where all of these "cowboys" are.

The morning of the 16th, began very similarly to the 14th. I am pulled out of a drunken slumber by my colleagues, and then we go off to deal with the issue of my estate. The lawyer informs me that my mother died poor and in debt and that I am responsible for this debt or a local cattleman will seem to take it as a personal affront. After a little deliberation and some help from my friends, he confesses that it is all a scam and that there is no debt, nor is the woman in question my mother. To be honest, the plan is pure genius. It is an easy way for someone to make a couple hundred dollars off a poor unsuspecting orphan. I was impressed and as I watched his office burn, I thumbed through his contacts to see if I might be able to use them for my own financial gain.

Needless to say, it was time to leave Texas. We left on the next train headed west, and then we were going to go up to the Dakotas for some Agency job. This should be a wonderful opportunity for me to spend some time selling to the uneducated masses. On our way to Denver, our train breaks down in a small town called North Valley. Clay heads back to check in in St. Louis, with plans to meet us in the Dakotas, and Murphy and Gus head off to a church. I went to worship as well. After some time with a woman and a couple of stiff drinks it was off to see the town. I found a very interesting bookseller, and got my hands on three pages of a copy of Hoyle's from 1815. I cannot wait to begin working on these pages.

After some time spent as tourists, we went off to have a drink or two, and wait for our train to depart. That is when the trouble began. It seemed the graves of the town had coughed up their contents and they were making good time to head down to the pub for a drink. Well, rather than Gus just laying low and hoping they pass on, he decides we need to do something about this. We, and a couple of the townspeople get ready to take on the dead. That is when I see a couple of gents that were on the train with us fleeing the scene. I turned myself invisible, and took off to see where they were going. It seems they were heading to another graveyard with the intention of raising those folks as well. Now, I am not one for a fight, but the thought of more of those folks walking around didn't seem like a good idea, so I did what I could while sharpshooter Murphy picked them off. After watching Gus' treatment of those things back at HQ, I decided I would need to take their heads - that is all I will say about that.

After the dust-up, we spoke with the Sheriff about who would do this and he seemed to think a man from New Orleans was behind it. A Fellow by the name of Simon Lacroix. We told him we would keep an eye out. Then I regaled the bar with the story of our bravery (so as they would remember the name Gridley), and we headed back to the train. Oh, we also picked up a hired hand named Everett Temple. Another bodyguard can't hurt.

Well, the train has just pulled out of the depot, and I am exhausted. I have a lot to process from the last few days, as well as potions to start brewing. That's right, I figured out how to start the process. I also have to start working with those pages from Hoyle's. But first I must sleep, so I put down my pen and end the story of this weeks events.

North Valley NM and NPC Inventory Vol. 4

NORTH VALLEY, New Mexico
January 20, 1885

KEY:
1. Train Station
2. Livery
3. Courthouse / City Hall
4. Hotel
5. Church of the Holy God (Methodist)
6. St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church
7. Sheriff's Office
8. Jail
9. Tailor
10. Carpenter
11. Ferrier
12. St. Francis Rectory
13. Blacksmith
14. Taxidermist
15. Ice House
16. Tanner
17. Catholic Cemetery
18. Church of the New Word (Baptist, African-American)
19. Baptist Cemetery
20. Methodist Cemetery
21. Charlie's Steaks
22. Law Office
23. Mayor's Office
24. Ann Biddle's Boarding House
25. Whorehouse
26. Bookstore
27. Dentist
28. Barber
29. Stone Mason
30. Hardware Store
31. General Store
32. Butcher's Shop / Meat Market
33. Grocery
34. Doctor
35. Funeral Home
36. Ice House
37. Whorehouse (African-American)
38. Men's Club
39. Neighborhood
40. Neighborhood
41. Schoolhouse

Notable Residents of North Valley:

Fought alongside Gus vs. the Catholic zombies:
Al Bandiff, owner/operator, Al's Butcher & Meat Market
Samuel Grigsby, master blacksmith
Horace Grigsby, ferrier
Dennis McMannis, journeyman blacksmith
Rev. Adam Johnson, pastor of the Methodist church (Blessed)
Daniel Smith, Sheriff of North Valley
Alexander Stevenson, Deputy Sheriff
Herman Grigsby, Deputy Sheriff

Other Residents encountered by the party:
Father Christopher Moriarity, priest of St. Francis of Assisi
Dolores Chapman, church secretary
Herb Richardson, owner/proprietor, Herb's Books
Donald Brown, pastor of Church of the New Word
Isabel, Gridley's prostitute
Slim Datherton, proprietor of the 4th Street Ice House
Sandra, waitress at the 4th Street Ice House
John Vickers, bartender at the 4th Street Ice House
Jeffrey Franklin, manager of the train station depot

Folks on the Train:
Everett Temple, itinerant worker, on his way northwest to take a hunting trip he'd saved up for; convinced by Gus to work as Gridley's bodyguard (as long as it suited them both)

Dale Martin (Harrowed Gunslinger) and the Medicine Man (Harrowed Shaman), a pair of Harrowed evil-doers who tried to raise the dead and wipe out the town of North Valley, NM

Ralph "Bucky" Buckland, Conductor on the train from El Paso to Denver

The Emancipated Nine (a group of slaves purchased by Gus Kestrel in El Paso and freed upon reaching NM, James "Justice" Murphy gives them the address of a boarding house run by family and friends of his in Philadelphia):

Joe Cotton, 40's

Jessey Isum, 30's and his son, Jessey Jr., 10

Willie Carter, 22, and his wife Polly, 19

Winne Brown, 50's

Sally, 8, Reechy, 6, and Jarvis, 3 - Winnie's grandchildren

End of Hiatus

After a two month hiatus, The Agency's Desperados game resumed sessions beginning October 2, 2011.

The in-game date at the beginning of the session is Friday, January 13, 1885. The party of Clayton Sanbel, Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley, and Augustus Kesterel is joined by James "Justice" Murphy, at the behest of the Agency's St. Louis Director Seth Bullock.

The following is a list of stories in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch* for 01/13/1885:

- Train Robbery, Murder west of St. Louis on the Rail (this is a story about the Ghost Rock robbery committed by members of the Agency under the command of Geoffrey Rigby, and referenced in the blog journals of Clayton, Gus, and the Rev. Col.)

- LA Thompson's new "Gravity Ride" (Roller Coaster)

- New surgical procedure, "Appendectomy," performed in England

- A report on the first 72 hours of Congress's new session - Senator Henry Blair, NH, chosen to lead subcommittee on Confederate Re-admittance; VP Thomas Hendricks delivers address from President Arthur, urging congress to re-admit Confederate states without unecessary delay and with no motives for revenge; Rep. William McAdoo, NJ, introduces legislation for forestry preservation; other topics on the board include labor laws, including testimony by Andrew Carnegie and Henry Clay Frick (steel) and Charles Tyson Yerkes (rail)

- Prominent cabinetmaker found dead in Springfield, Louis Duncan; Mr. Duncan was found dead in his shop after having been missing for two days.

- Confederate General John S. Marmaduke returns home to St. Louis after 25 years in exile, tells reporters he intends to run for Governor of Missouri.

- Unknown animal attacking livestock in Oakville, MO, just south of St. Louis

- Previewing the new "Keith & Albee" vaudeville house, scheduled to open next week downtown. Acts include comedy duo Sarah Shipley and Gertie Grayson, the Postereli Family of Acrobats, Burke Tyler and his trick mule, monologist Hokie Nelson, Stephen Quigley - the Quality Fiddle, and the Four Cohans.

*It goes without saying that these are fictional stories devised for the purposes of this game, and not actual stories from this otherwise real newspaper.

--------------------------------------------

In-game, the party completes their investigation of the Lemp murders and the ghost of Julia Lemp is excorsized; in the course of this investigation, William Lemp (killed by the ghost), his manservant and accomplice Edgar Cates (heart failure), and St. Louis Sheriff's deputy Bernard Feefe (accidental head trauma) die.

Clayton is approached by a man named Chester Allman, who had a disfiguring accident while using a gun that could be traced back to Clayton's work as an arms smuggler. A confrontation takes place, but it ends without violence on either side... for now.

The party accepts a commission from The Agency to travel to the Dakota territory to investigate claims of a Native American talisman that is rumored to be able to detect the undead. However, before they begin this mission, the party accompanies Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley to El Paso, TX to attend to a telegram he received informing him of the death of his mother. The telegram ends up being a scam perpetuated by an El Paso attorney, Raul Espinoza. After ascertaining the truth, Gridley and Clayton Sanbel set fire to Espinoza's practice. Meanwhile, Gus and Justice purchase slaves in El Paso for the purpose of setting them free once they cross the border back into the United States.

Having completed their business in El Paso, the party splits for a time, with Clayton heading back to St. Louis to check on the party's ongoing business, and Gridley, Gus, and Justice heading north via New Mexico to avoid spending more time in Texas, where Justice's being a black man creates potential problems. The party boards a train that will take them through Alberquerque, Santa Fe, and Denver.

At the conclusion of the session, the in-game date is Thursday, January 19, 1885.

NPC Inventory, Volume 3

This week's NPC Inventory is a listing of those NPCs with a basis in actual history whom the characters have encountered up to this point in the game. As such, I have included links to more information about them and their lives. The three individuals in the current inventory bear enough similarity to their real-life counterparts that no further elaboration is needed.

David Francis, Mayor, St. Louis, MO

Rev. Josiah Strong, author, Our Country: It's Possible Future and its Present Crisis

Sam Clemens

Timeline of Significant Historical Occurrences and Deviations

April 12, 1861 - American Civil War begins

July 4, 1863 - Battle of Gettysburg, rumored "supernatural event" (see Deadlands main source book)

February 19, 1864 - The U.S. Department of Arcane and Scientific Investigations and Research is founded under head Allan Pinkerton.

February 23, 1865 - After a string of hit performances, John Wilkes Booth and his brothers Edwin and Junius Booth invest $8,000 into California Land Speculation

September 30, 1866 - Brigham Young declares Utah the independent nation of Deseret.

January 21, 1868 - The Great California Earthquake (see Deadlands source book)

February 6, 1868 - In an effort to secure the brothers' investment, John Wilkes Booth heads to California with a team that includes former Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard.

April 12, 1868 - Rev. Ezekiah Grimme leads a group of quake survivors to Southern California, establishes the City of Lost Angels, or "Los Angeles."

October 13, 1868 - After reaching California and raising a militia, Booth and Beauregard secure a particularly lucrative mine near the ruins of San Francisco, CA. Explorer Samuel Lewis helps Booth develop a shipping trail for ghost rock to the Confederate States of America through the Colorado and Gila Rivers.

November 2, 1868 - Abraham Lincoln elected to his 3rd term as President of the United States.

April 22, 1868 - Lincoln and Jefferson Davis agree upon a Civil War stalemate, war enters "Cold" phase.

February 8, 1870 - President Lincoln dies of a cerebral hemmorage, Andrew Johnson succeeds him.

October 12, 1870 - Confederate General Robert E. Lee dies in Richmond, VA.

November 5, 1872 - Ulysses S. Grant elected President of the United States.

January 1, 1876 - Estimated worth of the Booth family fortune - $30,000,000 US.

May 22, 1876 - Theodore Roosevelt graduates from Harvard with a degree in history and linguistics, enters the Army.

June 26, 1876 - Roosevelt promoted to Captain from Lt. in 2nd Cavalry, only survivor of the Battle of Little Bighorn.

August 29, 1877 - Brigham Young dies, succeeded by John Taylor.

December 10, 1877 - Theodore Roosevelt publishes a book on the Naval Wars of 1812.

December 25, 1877 - Ezekiah Grimme declares Los Angeles a sovereign state.

October 27, 1880 - Theodore Roosevelt marries Alice Hathaway Lee.

November 1, 1880 - With President Grant declining a run for a third term, William Tecumseh Sherman defeats Samuel Tilden to become President of the United States.

December 31, 1880 - Allan Pinkerton retires as head of The Agency.

May 30, 1881 - Theodore Roosevelt retires from active duty with the rank of Colonel.

October 1, 1881 - Roosevelt accepts President Sherman's offer to become new head of The Agency.

May 1, 1883 - Amid controversy, Union Blue successfully completes the 1st Trans-Continental Railroad (see Deadlands source book for Rail Wars info).

June 9, 1883 - Jefferson Davis hires John Schprekles to complete a trans-continental line for the Confederacy via the Dixie Rail.

March 10, 1884 - Edwin Booth dies during a riverboat heist while overseeing company operations along the Colorado River.

March 30, 1884 - John Wilkes Booth grants the Confederacy a $500,000 loan to keep the government solvent; challenges Pres. Davis to complete the transcontinental line within 6 months.

August 12, 1884 - Confederate forces attempt to seize Southern California; President Sherman declares an end to the Civil War stalemate.

October 9 - 11, 1884 - Battle of Yuma, AZ a Union victory with help from Ezekiah Grimme and reinforcements from his Army of Lost Angels.

October 29, 1884 - With a depleted fighting force, a lack of powerful military leadership, and a bankrupt economy, Jefferson Davis travels to Washington D.C. to discuss terms of surrender.

November 1, 1884 - In the wake of peace negotiations, President Sherman abruptly decides to withdraw from the Presidential race; Chester Alan Arthur elected President.

November 9, 1884 - the Booth Company seizes control of several of the Confederacy's financial assets, declares the nation insolvent.

November 24, 1884 - The Thanksgiving Accord - Confederacy formally surrenders to the Union, ending the American Civil War.

December 10, 1884 - Texas declares independence as a nation with Gov. Richard Coke becoming the first president of New Texas.

December 27, 1884 - Ezekiah Grimme travels to Austin to meet President Coke.

January 6, 1885 - The United States Government formally files suit against the Booth Corporation for recovery of financial assets, a young lawyer named William Jennings Bryan is part of the legal team.

January 8, 1885 - start of game.

Excerpts from the Kestralian Codex

January 11th, 1885

I continued my life as an itinerant carpenter, moving from town to town and letting the Holy Spirit direct my actions. Then the Lord decided that my quest required more structure.

After witnessing me healing a local man, an agent of the federal government approached me and expressed an interest in recruiting me for a new governmental department. He bid me seek out a man by the name of Bullock in St. Louis if I was of mind to join. Seeing an opportunity to be exposed to a large part of America I accepted and headed south to Missouri.

I met Bullock with a group of other recruits in a St. Louis bar. We were told that the new department was called the Agency, and was intended to deal with unusual situations. The group was split into pairs and given trail assignments. I was paired with a gentleman named “Doc” Clayton Sanbel, who I am still journeying with.

 Mr. Sanbel and I get along pretty well. He can be a little rough around the edges, and he enjoys the same social vices that are so prevalent in these times- most notably whoring and gambling. For all that he is a solid man and true to his companions. I like the man. I hope through my influence, or rather my example, he might eventually shed the need to indulge in his more questionable past times, but we each have our own road to walk and many of our lessons must be learned alone. If nothing else through my friendship Mr. Sandbel is now aware of an alternative life.

Our first job was to hunt down a trio of men who had been executed by hanging. Apparently after their demise reported sighting of these same men began circulating. The Holy Spirit had led me well; this was exactly the sort of evil I have been trained to combat.

In the course of our investigations we began to frequent a local bordello and drinking establishment called the West End. I have to say I like the place. Oh, the staff and my companions think I am equal parts offended puritan and naive innocent, which I find privately amusing. But the ladies are friendly in a non-predatorily way, the food is good, and the environment feels relaxed and controlled. There are certainly worse such establishments as my time in Paris was quick to illuminate.

We eventually found our walking corpses, who indeed were risen from the dead by some unholy means. I fear I shocked Mr. Sanbel with my Zweihander, but the situation could not be helped and he quickly recovered. This was my first experience with an actual “monster”, and I felt quite elated by the culmination of a lifetime of preparation.  I took the heads, following Order protocol, and Mr. Sanbel and I returned to Mr. Bullock who lead us to the federal building that houses the Agency offices.

At this time we were introduced to the “Reverend” “Colonel” Elijah Q. Gridley, who was to be assigned to us, rounding our group out to a solid three. The Spirit makes me feel that the group is incomplete, and a fourth member shall join at some point in the near future. Directions from God aside, I must confess that Mr. Gridley is a character of dubious character and falsified pedigree.

He most certainly is not a Reverend, and he does not move with the training nor hold himself with the command of a Colonel that exists in any army outside of his own fevered fantasies. More amusing than his questionable titles is that he obviously considers himself an educated man of distinction, and feels that the world should recognize him as such solely based on the fact that his shirt is silk and his suit is pinstriped. Naturally by this logic I am of a vacuous cognation because my clothes are sturdy and sensible and I am a what is politely referred to as of large stature, and less politely referred to as a knuckle dragging behemoth.

Additionally Elijah Q. Gridley (whose initial Q. does not seem to stand for anything and whose last name was probably randomly chosen from a census report) takes those vices that Mr. Sanbel enjoys and wallows in them. My example will most likely not have any effect on Mr. Gridley’s spiritual and moral growth. And just as I hope to be a good influence on Mr. Sanbel, Mr. Gridley will prove to be an opposing influence. But that is the way of the world and its flawed humanity. Ultimately my role in the divine plan is that of defender and slayer, not redeemer.

I must also express some reservations about the Agency. While I must admit it has vast potential to further my work as righteous sword of God, it also treads a questionable line. Most noticeably when I turned in the heads and they were found to be regenerating, the Agency operatives seemed to have an unwholesome interest in studying them instead of removing their spiritual contamination. I am well aware that through study a way to more effectively combat or eliminate them all together may be found, but I could not in good consciousness allow them to continue in a situation where I personally could affect the outcome. Graciously, although reluctantly as well, Mr. Bullock permitted me to dispose of them once I pled my case.

I must admit I was far less comfortable with our second job. First it was assigned by Mr. Rigby, the Agency’s prime researcher and scientist. Second it involved the clandestine theft of Ghostrock from a train. Our group’s role was to deal with the guards during the theft. To this end, he assigned another member to our group, Consumption Jackson. 

Mr. Jackson seems to be a fine fellow, if a little wild, but I do not believe he is to be our fourth member as indicated by the Holy Spirit. True enough he was only around to help us on this one venture, though I would not be sad to see him in the future.

We boarded the train, and after dancing around with the porters (to his credit Mr. Gridley came to my rescue and diffused a potentially awkward situation, but not one that bears description here) we found ourselves in the bulk of the train, separated from the engine and the first few cars. Mr. Sanbel was on the first half of the train leaving myself, Mr. Jackson, and Mr. Gridley to deal with the situation. It so happens that the final car was a control car instead of a caboose, and Mr. Jackson and I set about catching up with the original first half of the train. Meanwhile Mr. Gridley went ahead to scout out the rest of the train.

We did manage to catch the train’s engine at which point Mr. Jackson brought the control car to a stop. Hearing the unmistakable sound of combat I rushed forward. I first encountered a large porter wielding a heavy wrench. Unfortunately I had to dispatch him with my Zwihander, but thankfully I was able to patch him up before moving on. He was just doing his job after all. I next came into a room where a woman who had previously been introduced to me as Mae and two others were holding the porters and passengers at gunpoint. Miss Mae immediately swung her shotgun toward me and ordered me to get with the rest of the passengers. At this point it became obvious that Mae and her companions were the guards we were sent to deal with. They were just trying to control the situation to keep the theft from happening. I wrestled the shotgun away from Miss Mae while Mr. Jackson engaged one of her companions, and I was able to knock Miss Mae unconscious without too much violence. Not the most noble action a Knight of the Broken Cross has ever taken, but not unheard of either. As soon as I subdued Miss Mae, he unoccupied companion shot me. The wound was a grievous one, and I had no choice but to engage him with the sword. Soon it was all over. Mr. Gridley had apparently had a battle of his own, he came out swearing with an angry red mark on his face. It resembled the mark from a strong open hand slap, but I have only ever seen such a thing on a mouthy prostitute before and so was probably mistaken. I tried to patch up the guards as best as I could, they were after all only doing their job and we had no indication that they were villainous in any way.

Mr. Gridley was particularly upset that I was helping our opponents. He was quite worked up (Mr. Gridley is not often given to fighting and was therefore quite excitable at the time). I didn’t feel that that was the right time to explain how my actions are directed by the Holy Spirit. Indeed, in the past such conversations have caused me more trouble than good and I have determined that they are to be avoided. Suffice to say, I cut them down because they were attacking me, and had they killed me I would not be able to continue to do the Lord’s work. I then helped them because they were hurt and needed help.

The Path of the Holy Spirit involves constantly living in the moment; making decisions based on the now. It is a difficult path if you needlessly complicate things, an easy path if you give yourself over completely to God and allow yourself to be guided by the Holy Spirit. Right and Wrong are a matter of choices, and choices are best understood in the moment, not with any thought or reflection.

There is now a tension in the group. None of us enjoyed this last mission. Here’s hoping tomorrow brings a new task to wash the taste of this train robbery away.

NPC Inventory, Volume 2

Daniel Rayford

(Sheriff, City of St. Louis, MO)

Daniel Rayford became Sheriff of St. Louis in July 1883, at the age of 34. A steadfast pragmatist, Rayford deals with the ins and outs of keeping the peace in his city much the same way he looks after his personal affairs - to the point, no nonsense, and finished early on Fridays if he can help it. Rayford is aware of The Agency, and has tolerated its increased activities in the St. Louis area insofar as they don't interfere with what he views as his jurisdiction, but times, he knows, are changing rapidly.

Grayson Chantreusse

(Former Agency Detective, Mercenary for Hire)

Prior to his ill-fated voyage aboard a passenger train bound for Dover, Delaware (as security for Darius Hellstrom's sensitive goods), Grayson Chantreusse had spent the last few years in Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, and Wyoming, building up a reputation as a reliable gun for hire. His proclivity for jokes is well-known among those who encounter him, and he is rarely seen without his right hand, Mae Corningham.

From the Journal of Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley

January 11, 1885 -

Well the events of the last 24 hours have made me quite skeptical as to my willingness to affiliate with this "Agency". After spending some time with the older copy of the Book I found, and showing Mr. Sanbel how to use it, we were flagged down by an Agency member who gave us a new assignment. It involved stealing 3 crates of the highly valued "Ghostrock" that was being shipped from a Mr. Hellstrom, out west, to a gentleman in Delaware. There was rumor of these crates being shipped, via the railway, through St. Louis to Indiana, then on to Delaware. So the task of train robbery was dispatched to the cowboy, the giant, and myself. We were also given the assistance of a Mr. Consumption Jackson, whom I do hope was named inaccurately.

Upon arriving at the train, we split up; Mr. Jackson and myself going to find food and drink, and Clay and Gus to do something that seemed like addressing the task given us. Obviously, I had no real interest in taking part in the robbery proper, but I wanted to lend what help I could for the purpose of partaking in the spoils. We decided on a plan to have Mr. Jackson disconnect the portion of the train with the storage cars from the passenger cars. Clay and Gus went off to do some scouting or something, leaving Mr. Jackson and myself alone with our repast.

It was at this point that two travelling "performers" decided to join our table and regale us with lackluster jokes and stories of theatrical vagabondery. Luckily, they were card players, and that seemed to shut them up. After Gus and Clay had been absent for what seemed an inordinate amount of time, I set off to find our companions. I step out of one car, and I see Gus climbing down the ladder, down from the roof of the car in front of me. After convincing the porter that our friend was being transferred to a psychiatric facility in Indiana, and that he could not be held accountable for his actions, we returned to the dining car for dinner, and more scotch.

After dinner, I was struck by the need to make a few dollars at a card table, went to find Clay, only to discover that someone had already detached the train, and now we were losing sight of the car that had our desired crates. Luckily for us, the caboose on this train was, in fact, a control car, and Mr. Jackson was trained in locomotive operation. So, we used the control car to race after the portion of the train with the shipment, and Clayton on board. As Mr. Jackson was driving, it fell to Gus and myself to shovel the coal. Well I was only able to tolerate manual labor for a matter of minutes, and shoveling coal is quite below my station, so I left the giant to do the grunt work, and I proceeded to the front of our section of train to gauge our progress.

Upon reaching the lounge car, I encountered the bad comic holding a gun and a dead porter lying on the floor. In the car ahead I can see a group of passengers fighting with the train crew. At this point, I have no idea what is going on. There now seems to be three armed factions on this train. The crew, Mr. Hellstrom's guards and us. The problem is, I have no idea why the crew and the guards are fighting, and no one is paying attention to the real thieves. The real thieves being us.

By this point I have reached the front of our train, and am met by the comic, whose name is Dan. After a brief discussion, I think he realized that we were here to abscond with the crates, and he violently and viciously attacked me. Now, it is no secret that fisticuffs are not my bailiwick, but I have to say, I held my own against this gentleman until, what must have been two or three of his scoundrel friends got the drop on me.

The next thing I remember is Clay waking me up, and pointing me in the direction of the comic. I pulled my rarely used Derringer out of it's holster and planted the barrel firmly in the back of his head. Now is as good a time as any to say that a Derringer to the back of the head is not nearly as effective as I anticipated. After my attempt at silencing the comic, he turns to me, and once again, must have had help in subduing me.

I am not sure how long I was out, but the next thing I remember is Clay waking me up again, and the Agency's steam wagon arriving to off load the crates and the four of us back to St. Louis. We arrived in town and were instructed report to the Agency tomorrow for payment, and a new assignment. I just checked in to the local hotel, and am going to try to use this bottle to nurse myself back to feeling whole again. As for tomorrow, I think it might be time to tender my resignation at the Agency. I am in now way cut out for this type of work, nor is it helping to further the plan. Politics may be a dirty game, but I can't imagine the President has to rob too many trains. Well, my wounds require attention, as does this bottle, so as I pour this shot I put down my pen and end the story of today's events.

NPC Inventory - Volume 1

Seth Bullock
(2nd in Command, The U.S. Department of Arcane and Scientific Research, a.k.a. The Agency)

Mr. Bullock, as he appears in game, shares a similar history to his real life counterpart up until 1884, when a chance encounter with another famous lawman sets him on the path towards becoming the number two man at The Agency. Bullock currently operates out of The Agency's western headquarters in St. Louis, MO.

Geoffrey Rigby
(Director of Arcane Research, The Agency)

The alert, attentive, and inventive Geoffrey Rigby has been at the St. Louis headquarters longer than any other agency operative. He puts in more hours at the office than just about anyone at the agency. He is a lithe man of moderate height, clean shaven with once-blonde hair now mostly grey and balding. His spectacles are usually dirty, and he specializes in powders and elixirs, primarily of the restorative variety.

Jeremiah J. Creotine
(Tailor Extraordinare)

Plucked from obscurity as a journeyman in Cincinnati's garment district to be the personal tailor to design Eberhard Anheuser's daughter Lilly's wedding dress, J.J. Creotine quickly became the toast of St. Louis, renowned for his own fashionable flair and his knack for getting his clients noticed in the society pages of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. He maintains a modest shop on the East side of the city that looks like nothing special, but to those "in the know," he's the only man from whom they'll procure their rainments.

Kitty Powrall
(Lady of the Evening)

Ms. Powrall makes up for a small stature with an outsized personality. From her humble beginnings as a companion at the famed St. Louis San Belle Hotel, Miss Kitty rose in popularity among her clientele very quickly in a matter of months before taking her talents to the larger West End Saloon, where she is able to function more or less as an independent contractor. One thing Kitty has never been known for is her discretion, however, and more than a few reporters and "unathorized" biographers know that for a price, they can get the scoop on the more famous residents of St. Louis who have succumbed to her famous charms.

Clayton Sanbel's Journal

Jan 10 - 1885

What the fuck just happened? This "Agency" calls all kinds to it's fold. What initially began as simply a new revenue stream has spun my world into a realm of fucked up I previously didn't know existed.

Introduction - Day 1:

I meet up with Bullock and his other recruits at the Busch Tavern. Our test is to seek out the whereabouts of a recently executed posse. Their names escape me, but fuck it. As I'll later describe, those cocksuckers ain't coming back. Bullock's idea is to team the new recruits with a partner of complementing skill sets. I drew a beast of a fucking man named Augustine Kestral, a real stoic son of a bitch. A man of a soft demeanor and high moral fucking fortitude, this one. I admit, at first I thought I drew the short stick. But his outward appearance and bullish nature belie a keen and sharp intellect. His negotiation skills are among the best I've seen. He convinced a man to lower a cocked gun aimed at my back. I don't quite understand it, Gus seems "touched" in some way. As if he understands he has a higher purpose. Oh yeah, and he carries a big fucking sword.

So we head out to look for these cocksuckers, and our trail leads us to a joint called the West End. Apparently the leader of the group used to fucking frequent the place. His piece of pussy he liked the best was a one Miss Kitty. I can see why he liked her. She gave us intel on a silo north of town the posse used as a hideout. This is where things get fucking unnerving.

Gus and I found the posse, alright. Walking and talking like they did before their hangings, but there was no doubt- these were fucking walkers. We engaged them and killed them. Again. Just to make sure they stayed dead and as proof to Bullock of our success we took their heads. We also helped ourselves to anything of worth these boys had and their horses.

The next day we meet with Bullock to discuss our payment. This is where we meet what we soon discover to be the third member of our party. A interesting little fucker, goes by the name of Colonel Reverend Elijah Q. Griddle or something of that nature. Not entirely sure if that is his real name, but considering his line of business I wouldn't be the least bit surprised that he's gone through a few fucking versions of it. He's a slippery little bastard, but we share a common trait. The man knows how to make money.

The long and the short of it, is that he does have a skill set that is very useful and highly intriguing. He works a sort of "magic" for lack of a better word by using cards. Since I already have a certain predilection for games of chance, he agreed to teach me. Now I know a man of this sort doesn't give anything away for free. However I haven't quite fucking figured out his angle.

That night we go back to the West End to show the Col. the town. We both have a great night at the table, and the next morning one of the ill fortunate cocksuckers decides they're gonna try and call me out. Being even tempered and a bit hungover, I do not fall into this dickshit's trap. This pig-fucker then pulls a gun on me while my back is turned. This is when Gus steps in, and with some thought provoking fucking word-smithing, cooler heads prevail. That Gus is something else.

Upon the Col.'s request we do some shopping. Little man is loose with his money. Would not leave before he bought me a new pair of boots and a shirt. Joke's on him though. Hard to look tough in a pair of sheep skin chaps with tassels. At any rate he'll be easy to spot if he every decides to run off. From there we go to a couple estate sales to look for copies of Hoyle's Book of Games. Older copies specifically. Apparently the magic is encoded inside. The older the edition the more magic potential. No luck at the first but we found a full map case that could prove handy. The second one however we hit some luck, and found one a bit older than his current copy. I look forward to working with him to decode.

That's about it for now. It seems that working with this agency may prove beneficial.

From the Journal of Rev. Col. Elijah Q. Gridley

January 10th - 1885

Well, the last few days have proved to be of great interest, to be sure. For more than a fortnight I have been in the employ of a group of gentlemen that refer to themselves as The Agency. Apparently "Quackery" is taken quite seriously here in St. Louis, and to save myself from incarceration, I agreed to a brief stint serving as a clerk in their library. The goals of this organization have yet to make themselves apparent to me, but their library is filled with myriad of subject matter, and much of it tends toward the mystical and arcane. The assignment has proven fortuitous, as it has afforded me the time to continue honing my skills. I am certain that, soon, I shall be in a position to operate to my fullest potential. That matter, however, will have to be addressed, in more detail, later.

I feel my time in the library may be limited, however. For, yesterday, as I was proceeding into the Agency's Headquarters, I was taken by Bullock, the gentleman I assume to be in charge, to one of the lower levels. I was escorted into a room with two other gentlemen (more about them in a bit). At this point a cadre of severed heads was laid out on a table to be examined. The larger of my new companions seemed to start at the fact that their heads were in some state of re-generation. I was sent to seek the counsel of a man named Rigby (whom, I believe, might share some of the same interests as myself). He stated some theory about dead not staying dead, and that the only way to insure complete destruction of the abomination was to destroy the brain. In the spirit of fairness, I had always assumed that those stories were tales told by the uneducated masses whom afforded me an income, however, this gentleman seemed to me quite intelligent, and earnest in his assessment. Upon his recommendation the large gentleman in the room, a Mr. Kestral, summarily deposed the brain matter of the heads in question. This seemed to deter any regeneration from occurring.

After that, I believe I was arbitrarily assigned to these two gentlemen as an aide of some sort. I suppose it is fitting to use this space to describe my new "colleagues".

First, there is the mysterious and antiquated Mr. Agustine Kestral. He is a thickly built and bullish man that seems to me a specimen more fit for farm labor than Government employment. I assumed, at first, he was the "brute" force of this duo, but this man is no brute. He seems to be some sort of Holy man. He appears to be a man of temperance, honesty, loyalty, justice and courage. I remain dubious about a long-lived association. To that point, upon the realization of my "gift", the warnings and sermons seem to have begun in earnest. I am putting all of my hope in the fact his zeal is but an opening volley in an otherwise quiet battle of beliefs. While I know little of his past, I can say he is soft spoken, kind to strangers, and based on the items he produced at the agency, not incapable of stunning violence. He was able, however, to save our little group from a "dust-up" as I believe the yokels of this town term it.

The second of my new companions calls himself Clayton Sanbel. He seems to be, at current, the de facto leader of this "group". As of yet, I have no need to challenge him, as my ability to be alarmingly convincing, and my largess with any coin I might have in my pocket, have paved the way for my acceptance into their fold. Mr. Sanbel seems to have some acquaintance with The Sanbel Hotel, though I have yet to determine the degree. Having a safe place to operate from, would be quite a luxury, and I feel that Mr. Sanbel and myself are cut from the same cloth. In addition to his proclivity for a good drink and a gentlemanly game of cards, he has also expressed an interest in darker things, and it is highly possible that I have found the apprentice I have been looking for. It is, therefore, without arrogance that I say I expect Mr. Sanbel and myself to fast become friends.

After the incident with the heads, we were given leave for the evening. The gentleman took me with them to see the paymaster, and after I "reminded" him of how much we were owed, the giant and his handler saw fit to pad my pocket with enough coin to ensure a pleasant evening. We took the ferry over to the other side of the city and spent our evening engaged in revelry. Well, such was the case with Mr. Sanbel and myself. Mr. Kestral had his alloted daily imbibement, stopped off at a place of worship, and turned in for the night. After doubling, via a few hours of card playing, the handsome donation I had received, I too went to seek a bed. Not for rest, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

When morning arrived, I, once again, returned my attention to the quest, and after perusing the morning paper, I found two estate sales that seemed promising. After, stopping in at my tailor's for a new suit, and to outfit my new friends (they travel like common peasants), they accompanied me, quite unaware, in my search for power and enlightenment. It should be noted that it was at the tailor's that I came to the perplexing realization that Mr. Kestral wears a shirt of chain under his regular shirt. I suppose this is some sort of spiritual self-flagellation, that seems to be the custom with the more extreme branches of Christianity.

It should also be noted that as we were leaving the saloon, a gentleman who did not fair well at the card table last night returned, with the apparent intention of liquidating some of last nights losses from our pockets. As I urged the group to flee, the giant was able to stall our would-be attacker with some philosophical quandary of some sort. While I was interested, to spend too much time questioning would have detracted me from the task at hand.

Now, to the most important point of the last 24 hours events. At the second estate sale, I found a copy of the book dated 1860, roughly 20 years earlier than the copy I possess. I cannot wait any longer to begin deciphering this text.

I also read today that the Orioles remain in last place in the American association. This would not be so unbearable except for the fact that I am currently in the home of the Browns, who sit solidly in first place. Oyster Burns and Gid Gardener have played most detestably, and I fear we will not win 45 games this year. Oh, if only there were a hex for getting on base. Speaking of Hexes, I must not waste too much time with recreation, and spend my time in training. So, it is with that thought ever present in my consciousness, I set down my pen, and end the story of the today's events.

The Game Begins

This game's first session was July 10th. Ben and JAke were the only players in attendance.