Post by order99 on Apr 1, 2021 4:57:07 GMT
Robert Wallace III tamped the last of his tobacco into his father's antique Meerschaum pipe and sighed in frustration at his lot in life. He'd sent Lennox into town for the Brandy-soaked Jamaican Blend, but in truth Lennox wouldn't know tobacco from turnips...not for the last time, Wallace wished he could make a personal visit into the Bay,but...
Calloway announced himself just outside the tentflap with a quiet "Sir", courteously allowing his CO time to slip his hood back on before opening the tent flap.
Wallace didn't stand on ceremony or bother with salutes anymore, not for years."How did it go, Liam?" he inquired politely-though from the beaming of his subordinate's face he suspected that he already knew.
"Not a single hitch Sir," replied Calloway with an enthusiasm that belied the tinge of grey in his beard. "Bolts of silk, finished jewelry, perfumes, silver ingots and three bales of cured Ermine hides-portable, valuable and easy to dispose of, just like our man in the Bay said! A near-perfect operation"!
Wallace scratched an itchy spot under the hood and nodded. "What about that strongbox full of stocks and securities"?
"Burned it myself Sir, not a single shred of paper remaining-our man Galte is going to get a massive Payday from the insurance company, and we get the commission! Couldn't be better...um, except, well...".
Wallace let out an exasperated sigh. "Liam, you've served under me since our post with Mosby's Raiders. You're the reason I didn't hang as a spy. You are my second in command-you are allowed to question me Calloway any time you feel like it! Understood, Lieutenant?"
Calloway nodded gratefully. "Understood Major. So...the raid went smooth as the Mississippi River Sir, everybody panicked when our Brigade came alongside the train, the Engineer made a run for it, we laid just enough debris on the tracks for a controlled derail, no lives lost on either side. But...that was a pretty blatant raid, wasn't it Sir? I mean, a few more like that and the Brigade jumps from 'Tall Tale' to 'Send in the Militia!' pretty blasted fast-er, with respect Sir".
Wallace grinned under his hood. "Wonderful summation as always Liam. Truth is-i'm disbanding the Night Terrors, in two fortnights or less...and i'm betting you know why. How's Jennings progressing?"
"Jennings lost another tooth, and there's an abscess under the gum-he just needs a dentist is all-"
Robert Wallace III simply removed his hood and let it drop-and while Calloway stopped mid-sentence, to his credit he did not flinch.
"This is why-Jennings isn't the only man here showing the signs, and money's no good if we all end up in a Leper Colony-"
"It. Is. NOT. Leprosy!" spat Calloway. "You said it yourself Sir, i've been with you since Mosby's outfit...so why don't I have the signs? Besides, the symptoms are all wrong, there's no paleness, no signs of infection, no dead spots-"
" I hear you Liam, I hear you-and while I appreciate you sending that telegram to Johns Hopkins under a false name, it's all the more reason to disband before a posse of Doctors show up looking for a new disease...so in the next few weeks we are going to hit the Stages as far South as Hope Valley and North at Plymouth-and then, Liam, i'm going to have our contact at Fort Mcfarlane posting traps on all the major roads...while the Night Terrors hit the Lighthouse Bay Exchange! And then we disband, every one of us set for life! But before we do that...you head off into town with Jennings and see that dentist, all right?"
"Sir!" And Robert Wallace sat down, re-lit his pipe and dourly considered his future. Money could buy a lot of privacy, but life as wealthy recluse could get old fast...and then a stray thought hit like a blot out of the blue, and the old soldier lifted what was left of his lips in a ghastly grin...
Maybe, he thought, I should wander up to Wisconsin and go knocking on P.T. Barnum's tent. Why, i'll bet even he's never seen as dandy a freak as this! Maybe i'll die rich and famous, just like I dreamed as a sprout...
Calloway announced himself just outside the tentflap with a quiet "Sir", courteously allowing his CO time to slip his hood back on before opening the tent flap.
Wallace didn't stand on ceremony or bother with salutes anymore, not for years."How did it go, Liam?" he inquired politely-though from the beaming of his subordinate's face he suspected that he already knew.
"Not a single hitch Sir," replied Calloway with an enthusiasm that belied the tinge of grey in his beard. "Bolts of silk, finished jewelry, perfumes, silver ingots and three bales of cured Ermine hides-portable, valuable and easy to dispose of, just like our man in the Bay said! A near-perfect operation"!
Wallace scratched an itchy spot under the hood and nodded. "What about that strongbox full of stocks and securities"?
"Burned it myself Sir, not a single shred of paper remaining-our man Galte is going to get a massive Payday from the insurance company, and we get the commission! Couldn't be better...um, except, well...".
Wallace let out an exasperated sigh. "Liam, you've served under me since our post with Mosby's Raiders. You're the reason I didn't hang as a spy. You are my second in command-you are allowed to question me Calloway any time you feel like it! Understood, Lieutenant?"
Calloway nodded gratefully. "Understood Major. So...the raid went smooth as the Mississippi River Sir, everybody panicked when our Brigade came alongside the train, the Engineer made a run for it, we laid just enough debris on the tracks for a controlled derail, no lives lost on either side. But...that was a pretty blatant raid, wasn't it Sir? I mean, a few more like that and the Brigade jumps from 'Tall Tale' to 'Send in the Militia!' pretty blasted fast-er, with respect Sir".
Wallace grinned under his hood. "Wonderful summation as always Liam. Truth is-i'm disbanding the Night Terrors, in two fortnights or less...and i'm betting you know why. How's Jennings progressing?"
"Jennings lost another tooth, and there's an abscess under the gum-he just needs a dentist is all-"
Robert Wallace III simply removed his hood and let it drop-and while Calloway stopped mid-sentence, to his credit he did not flinch.
"This is why-Jennings isn't the only man here showing the signs, and money's no good if we all end up in a Leper Colony-"
"It. Is. NOT. Leprosy!" spat Calloway. "You said it yourself Sir, i've been with you since Mosby's outfit...so why don't I have the signs? Besides, the symptoms are all wrong, there's no paleness, no signs of infection, no dead spots-"
" I hear you Liam, I hear you-and while I appreciate you sending that telegram to Johns Hopkins under a false name, it's all the more reason to disband before a posse of Doctors show up looking for a new disease...so in the next few weeks we are going to hit the Stages as far South as Hope Valley and North at Plymouth-and then, Liam, i'm going to have our contact at Fort Mcfarlane posting traps on all the major roads...while the Night Terrors hit the Lighthouse Bay Exchange! And then we disband, every one of us set for life! But before we do that...you head off into town with Jennings and see that dentist, all right?"
"Sir!" And Robert Wallace sat down, re-lit his pipe and dourly considered his future. Money could buy a lot of privacy, but life as wealthy recluse could get old fast...and then a stray thought hit like a blot out of the blue, and the old soldier lifted what was left of his lips in a ghastly grin...
Maybe, he thought, I should wander up to Wisconsin and go knocking on P.T. Barnum's tent. Why, i'll bet even he's never seen as dandy a freak as this! Maybe i'll die rich and famous, just like I dreamed as a sprout...
The Night Terrors, Ghostly Highwaymen
Description-by day the Night Terrors appear as normal men. But by night, they wear the tattered, burned and bloody antique uniforms of Confederate Soldiers, with ripped and begrimed cheesecloth masks, and lit by the eerie glow of White Phosphorus powder.
Number Appearing: 2D6+2
HD: 1
AC: 9/10
Attacks: As weapon
Move: 12 (but may be Mounted as per Mission)
Save: F1
Morale: 9 (disciplined)
Alignment: Neutral
Trophies: 1D6 (-1)
Mobster Level: 1
Fake Undead-between the outlandish get-ups, fake wounds and the ghastly glow limning both, most Mobsters and SCMs must make a Morale check or run away for 1D3 Turns.
Sickly-many of the highwaymen have begun to sport small rotting patches at the jaw, cheek or wrist-easily disguised for now...
Most of the Night Terrors use the Saber and Pistol Combination when mounted, while those held in reserve (for fire support or ambush)usually have access to carbines.
Liam Calloway-Field Commander of the Night Terrors, AKA The Pale Man.
Description-Liam is a handsome, man of average height, brown eyes and a full beard just beginning to grey. He joined Mosby's Raiders at 15 and hasn't had a Normal life since...as the Pale Man, Liam sports an immaculate Confederate Uniform with a single rent on the front and back, over his heart, and a gleam within as of shrapnel. His mask is carved maple and wrapped in bloody bandages, and often appears wreathed in smoke and fire (slow matches in his hat as the legendary Blackbeard did...)
Number Appearing: Unique
HD: 3+1 (11HP)
AC: 6/13 (beaten brass Breastplate under uniform and wooden Helmet)
Attacks: as weapon(favors Saber and Pistol)
Move: 12 (but usually Mounted) 9 when armored
Save: F3
Morale: 9 (fearless leader)
Alignment: Neutral
Trophies: 1D6(+1)
Mobster Level: 2
Fake Undead-with a pallid, bandaged face supporting a skeletal jaw, apparent Cannon wound and wreathed in smoke like Satan, nearly all Mobsters and SCMs must make a Morale Check at -2 or flee for 1D3+1 Turns.
War Veteran-Liam is in every way a Level 3 Fighter. He speaks and reads English and Creole French, and gets a +1 to Surprise Checks and Hiding(which is why he prefers the Matches to the Phosphorus trick-the former can be doused when stealth is called for).
Robert Wallace III, Freakish Commander of the Night Terrors, AKA "Generale Cadavre"
Description-once a handsome man, this Civil War veteran resembles a risen week-old cadaver, with exposed patches of rotting bone that glow faintly in the darkness, missing lips, scaly bald head and wispy shreds of beard. A strong mint perfume covers a faint, pervasive odor like burned bone.
During his field command of the Night Terrors, Robert dressed in a burned and tattered Confederate uniform, a stocking across his face dipped in White Phosphorus and teeth polished by chewing match heads-in the dark he appeared as a glowing corpse spitting flames as he issued orders.
Number Appearing: Unique
HD: 3+2 (12 HP)
AC 8/11 (still nimble)
Damage: As weapon
Move: 12 (or Mounted)
Save: F3
Morale: 10 (morbidly Nihilistic)
Alignment: Neutral
Trophies: 1D6+1 (+1)
Mobster Level: 2
Fake Undead-Robert no longer needs disguises and the night to terrify people and he can no longer turn it off. Nearly all Mobsters and SCMs encountering the man must make a Morale Check at -2 or flee for 1D3+1 Turns.
Hard and Desperate Man-Robert is a Level 3 Fighter in all respects. His previous rudimentary Training as a Confederate Spy gives him +1 to Forge Documents and +1 to breaking Ciphers and Codes. He speaks and reads both English and Latin.
Editor's Note: The Night Terrors are going to feel like absolute imbeciles in a few short years, when they find out just why they are beginning to rot away (and why Calloway has not):