So our adventure got underway.
I met several nice fellows during the trip. Sebastian Mayweather was a very kind man who inserted himself in my conversation with Silas Kincaid. Silas was a brooding individual, but seemed competent enough. Through those two I was eventually introduced to Marion Morrison. I swear if that man talked more than “ghuh” noise I would have been shocked. To say he was a man of few words is too many words altogether, however that metal arm of his did a lot of the talking.
You see, we were minding our own business when suddenly through the door from the card behind us came these rotted dead looking things. Terribly frightening. The three men I mentioned before did a heroic service to remove them. They worked in concert with the other passengers of the car, Emigo Rodriguez who seemingly was whip fast with those pistols of his, and a large colored fellow who dressed in silks and fur named Ivory. Poor Cinnamon! While she was easy on the eyes, it was the pistol she produced from nowhere modest that was the real shocker!
Me? I was guarding the bar. It’s a very important job. Can’t have those undead ruffians spilling any drinks now, can we?
Anyway, Sebastian, Silas, the man who could only grunt, and I heroically traversed toward the passengers in the back of the train. It was then when we hit the breach.
The world seemed to slow down for us, and suddenly the train wasn’t there anymore… I can’t quite explain it, I was quite at a loss of rational thought. It was there when we were set upon by these terrible looking gremlin things. They were all sorts of nasty, wielding big clubs. Luckily, they were dispatched by my companions without my intervention.
We returned to the passenger car and checked with the others when a new threat emerged. The door blew open an a large man with a goggled mask and some strange box like thing was seemingly inserted into the man’s back! There were tubes running off this box that went to his head, arms and legs. I’ve never seen anything of the like. The man himself was huge! No shirt, just the barest of whisp of pants could be seen on his legs and waist. We didn’t even have time to react, and the man reached across the train and literally backhanded Emigo through the train walls into the breach!
Our party prepared to react when a second fellow much like the first squeezed into the door. Honestly, I was ready to empty my bowels when a smaller, dimuth man in a lab coat appeared. He called off the two larger men, calling them Bruno and Igor. Then he proceeded to tell them that they shant kill all the witnesses and scapegoats. At that he threw some strange object into the center of the room. It exploded in white light and sound and the world went dark.
I awoke with a painful headache and a ringing in my ears that would not stop. My companions were up as well, although they seemed to be similarily suffering. Emigo was presumably dead and Ivory and Cinnamon were no were to be found. When the world of sound returned to me, I heard the strangest thing. It sounded like shouting. The full force of the Guild was rushing to the platform screaming for us to lay down our arms and surrender to face judgement!
My companions and I quickly beat our escape though a new doorway so generously provided by the man who speaks little. We escaped, alone, friendless, and now fugitives of the guild.