Deadlands Noir Extinct in the Big Easy

Old Tales, New Coats
The Two Equals One Night with a Librarian

I can add “dragon” to the list of beasties I’ve killed before they could kill me (time with the Father’s taught me that the distinction’s important). A black dragon the size of a b-b-barn went by the name of Rythnax (I thought it was Riffnacks at first) and was the one pulling Berringer’s strings. The boss didn’t like hearing that his leg man led us here and terminated his employment (do dragon’s floss?), and then we terminated Rythnax. I say we because the rest of us didn’t interfere as the Father called on St. Michael and basically burned a hole in it.

I got an interesting new contract out of the deal: design tools to facilitate the tanning and working of dragon hide into wearable leather. Something about wearing the skin of something I had a brief conversation with really don’t sit right with me, so I’m opting out of the results of this work, but if the rest of the teams wants to do it, they can.

On the subject of finery, I had to get dolled up to attend a party at the Cortland estate, part of our reward for finding the missing volumes (apparently one of Rythnax’s hobbies was mystical history). Ms. Greenleaf from the library seemed willing to go along with me, so I asked her out. (At some goading and advice from the gang, thought I think Father Ryan was interested at getting me distance from Mary Catherine). Only later would I realize their foul intention: a speech needed to be given, and I was offered up as sacrifice to this horrible purpose.

Yeah, I complain, but I actually didn’t do a bad job. I can afford suits that make me feel like I belong on a stage now, the speech I gave back in Indy gave me some practice, and I had a wonderful asshole to speak against. Yep, the president of Hexaco, that infamous company that just about bought the entire town of Manchac that keeps getting infested with one for of abomination or another, scored himself an invite to Cortland’s little affair and didn’t like to hear bad about his company, especially when it was the truth. Everyone else liked the story plenty, enough that the president left with a huge chip on his shoulder, while I left with the wonderful Ms. Greenleaf.

I’m writing this down while I can look around and see proof that everything happened as I’m telling it. Also, it’s a decent way to get recent events out of my brain before I gotta revisit the more distant past. Doc Kelso’s going to trial today, and all of us’re meaning to testify against the transmogrifying SoB. Should be a simple but long day, but I don’t know. Ain’t never known anything involving Kelso to go like it should.

Here There Be Dragons

Dear Bishop Laval,
The lads and I followed Berringer to Manchac, arriving mere minutes behind him. He apparently had a boat waiting for him, as he was well on his way into the swamp. During our efforts to locate a boat to follow him, we discovered that Hexaco had purchased all of the Land in and around Manchac. The only holdout was our friend from our previous excursion, Delmar. We had no trouble persuading him to take us out to Pump station 13 to catch Berringer. We knew Berringer was to meet his boss, Rythnax. We didn’t know it was a Dragon! When we spotted Berringer and the dragon, they told us we should leave. I asked “Why?” and let Rythnax know it was Mr. Berringer that had led us here. Understandably, Rythnax was upset with that revelation and killed Berringer. Our fight with Rythnax did not last more than a few seconds after that. I called on St. Michael’s aid to call down the holy fire and Rythnax was dead, almost that quickly.

We recovered all of the missing materials for the Library and returned them. I don’t think this is over yet, something Evil is making plans to use a portal to the Hunting grounds in southern Mexico and I fear this will barely slow them down.

Sincerely, Fr. Sean
Inside Job

Dear Bishop Laval,

We have managed to recover the missing books. It seems that it was an inside job. A recently hired gentleman named Berringer had been planted with the purpose of locating and stealing the three books for his employer. He managed to charm the archivist in charge of the secure vault at the university to access the necessary records and then purloined the tomes. We caught up with him in the vault shortly after he murdered the archivist there. We pursued him deeper into the vault and he somehow managed to blast a passage into the lower sewers. he was able to make it past a nest of faminites, sans rucksack. The lads and I stopped long enough to slay the foul abominations, facilitating his escape. The rucksack he left behind had his most recent orders and his final destination. I will contact you upon our return from Manchac.

Sincerely, Fr. Sean
Its not dyed and its not gator skin I keep telling you it was a frigging black dragon

Nicky drove us out to Manchac where we arrived maybe half an hour after Berringer took the last boat at the docks out into the swamp. The entire town has been bought up by Hexaco; just about the last holdout is Delmer, the guy they tried to pin the destruction of pump 13 on. He still has a boat and he gave us a lift out to the pump, where we found Berringer at his meeting with Rythnax…who turned out to be a dragon about the size of two dump trucks. We took him out in about half a minute without taking so much as a scratch, and I skinned the whole damned thing (took the eyes and teeth, too) and bought a truck to transport the skin back to New Orleans. The Padre said a blessing over it to negate any evil, and there’s enough hide here to make 4 armored coats, plus enough wing-membrane for a bodysuit and corset outfit or two for Jane (I don’t know how much armor that will provide, but it sure as hell is going to distract the enemy).

Spent the next couple days arranging to get the hide tanned and getting Nicky started on making the equipment the tailor will need to work dragon leather, and Jane and I started scouting locations for the new gym I’ll be opening. I also talked to Courtland’s daughter about coming to work as a weapons trainer; she’s willing to give it a try, to see if she enjoys it.

After day 2 we were due at the courthouse to testify at Dr. Kelso’s trial, but he escaped; the transport van was wrecked, the guards dead, and it looks like Dr. K is running off to Mexico (where the portals to the realms of the Old Gods and the water used for making krakens are both found) with everybody’s favorite undead voudouienne, Viola.

Submitted for GM Approval
A New Icon


Please leave books on the cart for reshelving

We are on the trail of 3 stolen books. One is a book of royal lineages dating back to Charlemagne. One is a book describing portals to the hunting grounds. One is volume 3 of a 7 volume set of Hal Ketchum (a famous lawman)‘s journals, describing his travels south of the border in the worst depths of the weird wild west era.

After questioning the 3 holders of the books, we were set upon by a large band of Aztecs, We took one prisoner, and he gave us a note which, after poking around at the Xavier library on Loyola’s campus, we discovered was from Berringer, who was a new hire in the translation department and has been asking a lot of questions about the closed off part of the library vaults. He and the chief archivist of the vaults have been missing the past two days.

We went down into the vaults with flashlights and found the archivists’s body. We pursued Berringer through the sewers under the library, fighting a crowd of ghouls (“faminites”) who had wounded him and gotten his backpack. In the backpack was a note saying where he was due to meet his boss; Manchac, where the pumping station with the creature from the black lagoon was. We were just in time to see his boat buzz away into the dark, but we knew where he’s headed.

I got a Demon Car

There is nothing better than a car that change appearance. I can disappear if being chased, I can fit in in any situation and I can roll in grand Demon style to the finest dinner party. The Father did not exactly get along with Chancey…did I mention it’s name is Chancey? Anyway, the Father didn’t exorcise the demon on the spot so that is good. I have been rolling in a fancy Duesenberg for a while but nobody else will ride in the car with me…Fuck’m.

This Job This DAMN Job
Dont Make my Baby Grow Up Too Fast

First and most important, Baby the Second lives! The engine married perfectly to the chassis (itself a bold combo of a Dusenberg Phaeton with some Ford add-ons for extra durability), and the booster feels stable enough, though I haven’t fully tested what all it can do. I’ve been noticing some visibility problems when I ran it in the garage, so I added another lamp to the front that’s directly linked to the booster, figuring a calibrated light might work. It looks good on paper, anyway, so we’ll see.

It occurred to me, what with black sedans and enemies old and new skulking around, that I might want some fresh gear. Along with the custom parts that’re going into finishing Baby the 2nd, I mailed away for an armored overcoat and a sonic lockpick. Heck, it’s only money (I will never stop smiling at that!).

I hope they get here soon, though. Father-I’m sorry, ABBOTT Ryan just got in touch. He’s got some book he wants me to take a look at, a translation of something that came out of the Reckoning. Naturally, he made it a special point to tell me to bring my sax case. Translation: “Be ready for violence.”

Pot to Kettle

After all we went through in Indy, what gets me most is that French pot—I know, I can maybe get it repaired, to an extent. But it will never be the same- -I kept that pot in perfect condition, and honest, not just ‘cause of how much it cost, it’s been my best pot—I make stock in it, and demi-glace, and damn if you can’t bake the best casseroles, mac-n-cheese, and lamb roast in it… hell, you can use it any way you want to— on the griddle, right in a campfire, oven, grill. It’s damn near indestructible, unless you do what Julio did—leave it burning empty, then scratch off the enamel with a notched metal spatula.

I miss that pot, man. I made my first Beef Burgundy in it. Ah well, at least I got Sammy’s college fund set up, ironclad, even if I get hung for treason, they can’t touch it— she’ll have tuition, a good place to stay, a car, and spending money. If I died tomorrow she’d be okay, and that is worth all of the tigers and demons Kali threw at us.

To Catch a Thief

Bishop Laval called me first thing this morning. Seems that there is a book thief loose in New Orleans and he wants me and the Lads to look into it. He thinks it is right up our alley.

The first book was a treatise on how the Reckoning changed the Laws of Physics. As part of our research, I arranged for Nickie to read an English translation, as the original work was in Spanish. Something in the book spooked Nickie and he has been rather nervous about the prospects of our investigation taking us to Mexico. The book was stolen from a locked and very well warded case in the parish rectory at Mater Dolorosa on Carrollton avenue. Contrary to standard procedure, the local parish priest, Father Esparza was allowed to keep it outside the Archive vault on semi-permanent loan due to a close family connection to the author. While talking to the priest, he also mentioned a family heirloom was taken as well, a mummified jaguar’s paw once belonging to one of Santa Ana’s necromancers, Cislan. This is already starting to look rather bad.

The second book was stolen from a retired adventurer, a real Alan Quartermain type as rumor has it. The book was one of a series of journals kept by a Legendary Texas Ranger named Ketchum, during the early days of the Reckoning. The journal details a number of fantastic exploits against some of the fiercest monsters of the Reckoning. Stolen right off the bookshelf without raising any alarms.

Book number three was on heraldry and sigils of New Orleans noble families. I can’t wait to see where this leads….


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