A message from the ringmaster transcribed into the journal
Troopers-
Sorry, guys. Turns out the Harbinger of Death can really do a number
on a fellow's entrance. I had planned to set everything straight, but once
more, the universe has intervened, and the show must go on regardless. What may
very well be my last words to you have to be Etched in my own goddamn blood
onto alien hick armor.
Ah well. If the universe accommodated our desires, it wouldn't need
people like us.
That brings me to our current predicament. See, right now, I've got to
get back into the Hunting Grounds and stabilize the portal; if we lose that
link, neither Jackie nor I can get back, and more importantly the Law Dogs
never get the portal for a power source, which is even more damaging than Stone
turning the whole place into a Deadland.
That, unfortunately, leaves you guys to carry out the work I was
planning on doing. Right now, the Agency and the Rangers are at each other's
throats, which is a huge drain on the two organizations best placed to keep the
Reckoners and their servants down. As long as they're busy playing Spy vs. Spy,
good men and women are dying out there and saving the fearmongers the trouble.
I was well on my way to stopping that in 1876, but there's rather a lot of rock
in the way of my counterpart--besides which, I was a bit of a wild child just
after I died. Better for you to do this, believe me. Thankfully, we've got an
opportunity like none other...I can't believe I'm calling Gomorrah an
opportunity.
Look...the town of Gomorrah isn't anymore. It's off by the Maze; check
a damn map. It wasn't much of a town when it was there, and it just got a hell
of a lot worse, what with the manitou Knicknevin materializing and running
amok. He had help, but the more immediately important issue is that both the
Agency's spooks and the Rangers lost...many .Josef Rocescu, Mr. Slate, Johnny
Quaid, Boom-Boom O’ Bannon, The Pennsylvania Kid, Melissa Thomas, Zeke
Beauchamp, Tombstone Frank, Danny Hamilton, Bartholomew Prospectus… I liked the
Kid, dammit. Also, and you may want to break this to Waltzing gently...Joeseph
Eyes-Like-Rain is dead. Tread gently around the Sioux.
Perhaps this warning would've been better given BEFORE you got miles
deep into the Sioux Nations and right next to the huge issue they have in
Deadwood. That would've made sense.
Anyway, I built the Law Dogs from the ground up after the Agents and
Rangers flailed senselessly against the remnants in Gomorrah. You all can and
must do better. I know Capt. Katie Karl, the Ranger in charge. She wants this
stupid cold war to end, and now she's got a reason; she just can't see it yet.
Find her a case for going to the Agency with her head held high, get the
Agency's man Cort Williams on board, and your work'll be half done. Do me a
favor and call it the Law Dogs. I had a club named that as a boy; it'd help me
find it once I come back to myself. Guess you could call it the Family,
too--you all look like you're getting along well enough like one.
In a larger sense, well, everything's gone to shit, and I'm fairly
sure you're the only ones who can get it even partially back. You know about
the Reckoners, of course, and you know they work through fear. Problem is,
we've got way too many guns out there, and if the bogeyman disappears quietly
as he came, everyone's expecting him back, if you take my meaning. We need
people out there looking out for the little guys, patching up the world on a
local level as well. As saccharine as it sounds, we need heroes better than the
stone cold badasses we deserve, and that means you
goofballs, with all your surprising capabilities. You guys carry some mighty
big sticks; just make sure you speak softly, too.
As for me, I've got a big glowing exit cue right behind me. There's a
lot of work to be done shooing the vermin away from the portal and reconnecting
it, and I've got Jackie to find and the Heart to get installed. Keep that
staff; when I've got the portal back up and running, it should reenergize the
collectors and start it pinging several dozen damage indicators. Once it gets
going, we'll need you uptime, but for now, you've got your, or rather my, work
cut out for you. Get Gomorrah's secret agencies working together, and I'll bet
you'll figure out the rest; I did, and you're much sharper than I. Good luck;
I've got a show to give, and the show, no matter when, must go on.
- Theodore Roosevelt
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