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.