Shadows of Brimstone – Of Rituals and Horror, Part One

Occult Book Shadows of Brimstone

“Man, does everyone in this area have mines running underground on their property?” Roland asked while kicking around some stones at the mine’s entrance.

“Well, Brimstone and the area surrounding it was set up for mining many years back,” answered Red. “Almost everyone that lived here, and those that still do, own mining property. This place was gonna be the next big ticket for lots of people out here, honey.”

“Yeah, then they just had to find the dark stone, huh?” Roland kicked another stone and watched it tumble deeper into the mine.

“Look,” interjected Courderoy, “people are traveling out here to try and rebuild what’s left of Brimstone. These mines may have brought some crazy things since findin’ that dark stone, but it’s also brought plenty of work. So, long as we keep our noses clean and guns loaded we should be able to make enough gold to not have a worry about this place for a long time.”

“Hey, I’m not arguin’ with that notion,” replied Roland.

Courderoy then turned back in the direction of the mine’s corridor. They’d only just cleared out the shafts on Mr. Montague’s property not but a week before. The posse spent some time back in town and enjoyed a good time with their earnings, but there was still work to be done. With all the posse was doing, word was spreading that the “Mine Cleaners” were in town to help the people. Word doesn’t take long to spread in small towns, so before long the posse found themselves with more work than they could handle.

This time they’d gotten into a hotter pot of water than before. A well-to-do couple had purchased some land after hearing about Montague’s good fortunes and it just so happened that they’d stumbled on a small mine toward the rear of their stake. The difference with this land, however, was that much nastier stuff was happening in this neck of the woods. It appeared that some sort of portal was opened and darkness had been spilling out at all times of the day. No cattle could be raised on the land, for hellhounds and terrors would tear them apart, leaving nothing by the morning. After hearing word travel the couple sent out for the “Mine Cleaners” and the posse found themselves with another paying gig on their hands. Continue reading

Shadows of Brimstone – Bada Bing, Bada Boom

Shadows of Brimstone Marshall Saloon Goliath

“I can’t believe this thing! McCreedy, you sure are somethin’!”

Roland tumbled and brought up his arm for another shot. “FFZZZZAPCHHH,” the weapon glowed in his hand and fired of a blast of charged energy. The shot landed right on target, as it tore through the center of a skittering void spider. After the creature slumped to the ground, energy passed between it and the spiders surrounding it, sending them to the grave as well.

Roland had made short work of the creatures thanks to his new Plasma Arc, a mysterious weapon forged in the other world of the Targa Plateau. Courderoy picked it up for him while the posse was last in a frontier town settlement. While at an outpost Courderoy met a traveling merchant that had somehow picked up the artifact on his travels, and he was selling it at a great price. In the effort to help the group as a whole Courderoy dropped all of his cash on the item.

So far, the investment certainly paid off. While Roland wasn’t hitting as hard as he had before with is trusty six-shooter, he certainly was hitting more enemies more often. So far the posse had cleared out nearly ten chambers in the mine found on Mr. Montague’s property. They’d been in the mine for a better part of the night. The job was simple enough: find out how deep the mine goes and clear out any dangers within it. The posse had been through twists and turns almost nonstop since they first entered the mine, but lately it would seem they were on a singular path. Continue reading

Shadows of Brimstone – Lookin’ for Work in All the Right Places

old_west_saloon_by_whatyoumaydo-d531800

Courderoy McCreedy sat in his hotel room taking inventory over the items he’d collected on his most recent trip out to the mines. He still had his trusty shotgun on-hand, but his little expedition gained him four chunks of Dark Stone and a gold certificate worth $25. Honestly, it wasn’t much for what he encountered back in the mine. He felt he deserved much better than that, and he sighed looking down at the bite wounds across his legs.

He still had to write his report, but that could wait until later. He figured he’d head down to the saloon first and try to gather some more information before meeting up with the gang. After the day he’d had, he felt he could sure use a glass of whiskey – hell, he may even pick up a whole bottle.

Courderoy packed up his belongings and put them in his saddle bag and headed on downstairs toward the saloon. It was getting close to nine o’clock, judging by the moon’s light, and it wouldn’t be long until the rest of his posse would show up for discussion on what move to make next.

He crossed the street in front of the hotel as a solid black stagecoach pulled up. Walking past the carriage, Courderoy caught a glance at the passenger inside. He was a tall man, suited up in black from head to toe. He wore a long neck tie that held a large golden clip on it. The clip showed text that read, “Montague”. Courderoy caught himself wondering about the man, and quickly shook it off as he climbed up the few steps into the saloon.

Inside the building, piano and laughter filled the air. The Salty Spittoon was certainly lively this eve. There were bar maids walking about, filling up gentlemen’s cups, with a few taking a pinch on the behind as they went. As Courderoy stepped in and the wooden doors creaked closed behind him, the entire room of eyes turned to meet him. He could tell exactly what they were eying – his U.S. Marshall badge. A few of the patrons stood up and politely excused themselves from the saloon, and Courderoy stepped down onto the saloon floor to find himself a table. He scanned the area and pulled up a chair next to a table of men playing poker. He settled into his seat and the room went back to its lively state.

He leaned an ear into the poker game to see what buzz was going around the town.

“…they say that he’s headed to town tonight. Came all the way up here from the east! New York I think. Rumor has it that he’s here to buy up some land or something,” a large man dressed in a poncho said.

A smaller man, with a full beard and dressed in mining gear, added, “With all the talk about the mines up here I’m surprised it took him this long. Anyone that knows ‘im could tell ya that he don’t sit out on stuff like this for long…”

Just then Courderoy noticed someone standing next to him at his table.

“Are you gonna just sit there and daydream all evenin’, or are you gonna buy a drink?” Continue reading