Personal Letter, Venusstadt and later, Colorado, Captain Henry Forsyth (Ret)

Colorado, 1889

An ongoing letter to Clarence Forsyth, from Captain Henry Forsyth, RE. (Regretfully, retired.)

Denver, Colorado, America.

Dearest Brother,

I would have you know that I’m down to earth.

The business on Venus ended most unsatisfactorily. In the swamps, we were set upon by vile German assassins, I believe targeting my erstwhile famous, dare I say, friends.

Of course, they proved no match for British pluck and we turned the tables neatly on the villains and ‘All’s Well That Ends Well’ as the bard would say.

Still, we still had some alarms in trying to return. The blighter of a leader having run, as I might add I would expect from a Belgian, on the first encounter, tried to ambush us. Another foreigner trick and failure to fight like a man.

We captured the bounder, though I confess he was surprisingly fleet of foot for a man of his build and very at home in the swamps. Still, he sang like a canary, as I believe the expression is with the lower life.

Seems there was someone else behind all this.

We returned to Venusstadt. Naturally we stopped to change attire and then to the bank to call out this fiend, for that was his lair.

Yet, things again took on an unexpected turn. Another ambush! Why so many German thugs have an Irish name I cannot tell, yet seems always to be the case. Maybe they are damnable nationalists.

I regret to say many shots were fired and in a bank at that, a sad state of affairs. Despite poor odds, ultimately our British fighting once again proved superior. We followed those that fled our justice down and out into, well, I baulk to say it, the, er, lower recess.

It was most embarrassing when we returned to the hotel.

We then moved to investigate the warehouse belonging to this bounder. I will not trouble you with the details, but what we found was not only very illegal but most disturbing.

I now have to confess a most unfortunate incident. A number of villains opened fire on us in the warehouse, which was naturally returned. However, a stray bullet hit the case we were investigating. I can reveal that a Venus death flower was the content.

Naturally we all ran for our lives, friend and foe alike.

It is hard to explain what the draw of this flower is. I felt it touch me briefly, were I anything less than a British gentleman and officer, well, I hate to think what consequences would have entailed.

However, the enemy gunfire had clearly attracted the attention of the authorities. I regret to inform you that I was embarrassingly detained with my far more famous colleagues if I may be so bold as to describe them thus.

There followed an interesting discussion with I believe someone who may have been a member of the Zeppelin family. I think it may have been an opportunity missed, but who can truly tell in the very strange world I now find myself.

Frankly, it all ended rather embarrassingly. I was forced to resign my post on Venus to keep my reputation intact.

Further, my colleagues and I had to leave Venus, or otherwise be under a cloud.

Rest assured that my honour is intact and can assure you that no taint is attached to the family name.

Our flyer arrived in Denver, Colarado a week ago.

I will update you again soon.

Boulder, Colorado, America.

Once again, my felicitations to you and the family and I can but hope that all continue to prosper. Please give my humble regards to our parents.

We have tracked this vile smuggling ring to this part of world. I’ll forebear to say more, but trust you have received my coded letters and placed them as instructed. I hope they will not be necessary.

I do not know if the rest of America is like this, but it is much as the popularist papers depict. There is no discernible civilisation, everyone carries guns, law seems to be a matter of opinion rather than principle, it is close to anarchy.

Yet this allows a certain sense of freedom, certainly opportunities abound and an engineer such as myself could well make a fortune here. If only so many people weren’t trying to kill me!

We traced the smugglers to a warehouse in a small town within the state. We managed to gain entrance via something of a ruse, that owed its essence to the wooden horse of Troy. Please let father know that I didn’t entirely let my education in the classics go to waste.

That said, I cannot recommend being confined in a crate with others, especially when one insists on bringing a rifle. I can say that I don’t care how good a shot he was, there was one butt too many.

So, the ruse worked and thankfully we had avoided yet another gun battle. However, the foul villains had adopted the place as a landing for an ether flyer, the roof being its underside.

As its searchlight illuminated the place it smarmed with guards. Really do these people not understand the consequences of firing on a British officer? I may admit that it could be some time before a new uniform reaches me in these far places and that I’d had to resort to local dress, but even so!

It was touch and go to be sure, but the Rev. Fogg, who I may have mentioned in my previous despatches, surrounded himself with dynamite, so that the enemy dare not fire for fear of their own lives. He then dealt out some righteous justice, which allowed us to once again prevail.

Sadly, the ether flier was able to make good it’s escape during this interlude. So the villains remain at large.

We did however, find more evidence of their evil doing. Evidence that I may tell you of the utmost and shocking import. I pray that we have communicated this in time and the authorities in Europe have acted.

If you are reading this then those in London most certainly have. If there is war or disorder on the continent, then they have not and we will be swept with a double crisis of both plague and war.

My prayers are with all of you.

Now to the final chapter of this letter, which I need to send post haste. A sad tale.

As befits our calling as British men, we attempted to beard one of leaders of this dreadful conspiracy in his lair.

We were grievously outmatched, something I realised from the outset. Yet we were honour bound to try. It was clear that some dreadful weapons were being constructed, we had to know what.

But the scientist working on them and as I now know his wife, were being held captive. Naturally we resolved to free them, despite the odds.

We have the company of an interesting gentleman, Copperfield by name, but of slightly dubious character, if I might make so bold. I do not deny him a gentlemen, for he clearly is, but I should not like to play cards against him.

He gallantly undertook to enter the main house to bring out the hostages, all with the intent of remaining unseen.

The rest us positioned ourselves to best advantage. The ever-gallant Waldmart to the front with a posse (as they say in these parts) of hired men to overview the courtyard. This yard was surrounded by buildings on 3 sides. In military terms my dear brother, in was a killing ground.

The heroic Rev. Fogg assembled a diversionary tactic, a cart laden with inflammable material and dynamite. He really is the most fearsome and oft reckless fellow.

For my part I took the rear of the house to be able to see and relay any signals from inside. I could also rush up to assist from this position.

The plan proceeded well at first, Copperfield entering the house unobserved. From my vantage point I could see the lady hostage held in the kitchen by a distracted guard.

On the other side, were clearly two of the main villains in discussion. Why he chose to interrupt these and place the odds against himself I have yet to find out, when the other way would have suited the purpose far better.

Yet one cannot judge the actions that men make in the heat of battle; each has their own rationale.

I gathered he’d come of the worst of the affair and rushed to the least cover his retreat.

He got out badly wounded, but with a guard stumbling out hard on his heals. I managed to knock this man down, but with more coming needed to look to hold them up and my attention was to the door.

I confess I mis-judged in expecting Copperfield to take out the now prone guard. Instead, he ran off into the night and the cad shot me in the back.

I too now had to retreat in ignominy.

Meanwhile Fogg’s diversion had hit home drawing many guards, but in the event too few.

Waldmart used his position well initially, but kept advancing beyond reason until he placed him and his men in the killing zone.

Somehow Fogg ran through it all and entered the house that was vacant of anyone but the enemy. I believe the Lord must truly look after his own.

By now, I’d come round the side of the building and managed to rally and draw a couple of our hands to me.

Although I placed them behind cover to give fire, such was the intensity of incoming shot that one of them was killed before he even got a finger to his trigger.

So, it was I witnessed a scene that will haunt all my years. The brave Waldmont, the man that had become a legend, the man that had survived beyond reason, that generous sole, a colossus that strode earth and then the heavens.

It was my fate, to watch him breath his last as the ceaseless gunfire cut him to ribbons. Even as I watched I wanted to run to him and try and change the outcome. For I like to think that not only was he companion in arms, but my friend. But I am a soldier, we know the battlefield. I could only die by such an action.

A few more shots were fired, but with little effect and I retreated in the best order I could, the last of our hired men being shot in the back as we made our way into the night.

Remarkably Fogg also made it out. There was a gallant attempt to subdue the main villain and hold him as a shield, which failed but to which the cad surprisingly showed some spine and held a fisticuffs duel with Fogg.

Despite being outmatched and surrounded by armed guards, Fogg once again proved his worth, landing a blow to stun the foe.

Recognising his predicament, he also realised that blooding his opponents’ nose was what he would have to settle for. He used the opportunity to also retire in good order.

Thankfully we met up as arranged. The good reverend was able to staunch my wound and I’m as near full health as can be expected.

We are now licking our wounds, if you forgive the crude expression. I am stunned by the loss of Waldmont, it leaves a big hole in our little party which has fought so hard together.

In the military such things are expected, yet this has been a different experience, we fight not on orders, but to do the right thing. We are dealing with injustice and criminal activity because we are British and it is the right thing to do.

We have a common purpose, which binds us more tightly, than I can express. I therefore mourn my friend and benefactor of our party.

Alas I have little time to do so, as I fear the villains may move against us.

I am disturbed that we could not recover Waldmonts body. To leave it behind feels like a betrayal and I am sure it will be ill used by the enemy. The Spartans of old would surely not have failed so, but they were not faced with Winchester rifles.

Dear Brother, I do not know the future holds for me, but it is of necessity one of great danger. Should I fail in this endeavour, then know the affection that I hold my family. Know also that I will have perished in service to God, Queen and Country, although on a battlefield that may never be revealed.

Respectfully yours,

Henry

Interlude: What The Papers Say About Episode 27:

Page One.

Page Two

Interlude: Let's See The Evidence From The Safe

The letters from the safe were my own addition to the campaign clues. I did not like the way some of the information was supposed to flow to the characters and thought I could do better.

• The campaign calls for the adventurers to contact the authorities with evidence and, well, I did not think the evidence as presented in the book was compelling.
• The campaign games convene once a month and the continuity suffers as a result of the players having a real world/game word ratio of 716 hours/4 hours nibbling at their brains.
• I've been a Call of Cthulhu GM since the game was published in the UK, and have a fondness for "hands on" clues the players can pass around and use as discussion points.

And so I got busy with OfficeLibre.

There was a wrinkle in that our virtual desktop of choice, Roll20, only takes such documents into the player journals as jpgs, and the scale reduction is fierce, so to maintain readability I had to use 36 pt type and size my paper so the letters would fit on a single page, export the documents to PDF, then import the PDFs, which converts them to jpgs and minisizes them.

Worth the effort, I reckon. In real life the paper would have been distressed with coffee-cup rings, scribbled warehouse nonsense, accidental tears and so forth. This takes too much time to represent digitally for me.

Episode 27: A Plan Goes Awry

It looked good on paper.

Letters recovered from the safe "acquired" for Dirk Cairo's now-destroyed warehouse provided evidence of a chilling plan, a plot to blanket the capital cities of England, France and Germany in the dread Red Sands poison, thereby fomenting chaos in the form of an uncontrollable outbreak of the Red Sands plague that would fill the streets with maddened, infected lunatics, each a centre for further infection.

This was a plan designed to bring down the three great powers of Earth, and possibly the entire planet over time. The implications were astounding and profoundly disturbing.

The grand design appeared to be an attempt to strip Mars of its British and German troops, which would be needed on Earth once the standing forces had been exposed to Red Sands. By the time they got home, home would no longer exist.

Naturally, once the information had been digested and a picture of the intent synthesized, the team contacted the Explorer's Club via telegraph, using the talents of an impressionable young telegrapher named Dick, suitably reimbursed and impressed by the legendary Waldmont as to the need for anonymity and confidentiality. Once the Explorer's Club had time to digest the message, Waldmont brought his influence to bear and was soon in touch with Chief Inspector Smythe, who not only took the threat seriously but communicated his concern to his counterparts in Paris and Bonn. If there were any truth in these allegations, the forces of Law and Order would root out those responsible and bring them to justice.

Now the adventurers turned their attention to the goings on at the Cairo Ranch. They believed that there they would find an example of the cryptic "Kross Distribution Device" mentioned in the letters, and so a plan was hatched to infiltrate the ranch using hired guns as backup. A preliminary recce of the property revealed that there were a large number of guards, a handful of mystrious figures dressed in black clothing, "Dead-Eye" Pete Blackwell (a notorious bully) and a strange man with a German accent and woman working in the kitchen of the Ranch House.

The team surmised that the German man was Hans Kross and the woman was his Daughter, possibly the method by which Cairo was abe to compell Kross to work for him, and began hatching a new plan to rescue the girl and her father. This plan was formed up after overhearing a conversation in which it was obvious that one of them had been attacked by the cook, and that she was being held against her will.

The ranch compound consisted of the Ranch House to the North, facing south, a large barn to the East, and a long Bunkhouse to the West, forming an open courtyard, open to the South.

The team would arrange themselves around the ranch at dusk, armed with rifles, to suport Copperfield in his stealthy infiltration of the ranch. Copperfield wuld enter the Ranch House and rescue the woman. If he experienced troube he would signal either by shining a lantern at a window, or by initiating gunfire. At this signal, Rev. Fogg and a hired hand would push a wagon loaded with flammables and explosives into the corner of the bunkhouse in which the guards slept and lived while on site, using this as a distraction to draw off guards.

Copperfield entered the house from the rear and made his way carefully through the house. Once inside he could clearly hear two distinct conversations: A pair of men, one with a German accent to the West, and a man and woman to the East, the end of the house containing the kitchen. Copperfield decided to investigate the voices to the west, and improvised a bold plan. He knocked on the door behind which he could hear the voices and pretended to be a confused member of the Ranch's staff. This served ony to enrage the German man who ordered the other to deal with the situation. That worthy ripped open the door and came face to face with Copperfield.

Copperfield abandoned his obfuscation and drew his pistol, but the man opposite him was quick and backed away, drawing his own weapon as Copperfield shot - and missed. There followed a rapid exchange of close-range pistol fire that was largely ineffective. Copperfield wisely decided that discretion was the better part of valour and broke off to retreat through the back door.

Unfortunately, a number of guards were alerted and intercepted his escape with volleys of gunfire that was terribly effective, wounding him twice as he blundered into and past Captain Forsyth, who was unfortunately at that very moment come down from his overwatch position and about to enter the house.

A guard burst out of the doorway and turned right to see Copperfield staggering away, and attempted a close range rifle shot that missed. He did not see Captain Forsyth to his left, who shot him at close range, doing no damage but knocking him prone. From which position that worthy fired, doing severe damage to Forsth, who reeled off to the West to gain cover from this mad sharpshooter. Copperfield ran for the cover of the East corner of the Ranch House.

Simultaneously, Reverend Fogg piloted his burning wagon into the southwest corner of the bunkhouse with the aid of a hired hand, using the resulting conflagration as a diversion. To this end he ran into the courtyard yelling for help and some of the guards now pouring out of the bunkhouse did indeeed race to help Fogg, who was raving in a most realistic fashion about his daughter being on the blazing wagon. The hired hand meanwhile had raced Northward along the bunkhouse wall to give whatever aide he could to those in the Ranch House, and as the guards approached the blazing wagon to rescue Rev. Fogg's non-existent daughter the dynamite exploded and although the blast missed them, each was pounded by flying bricks from the chimney and shaken. Fogg raced for the Ranch House.

It was at this moment that Waldmont, heretofore ensconced in cover out in the middle distance to the South of the courtyard with half a dozen hired hands to act as sharpshooters, decided that he would be better employed in closer contact with the enemy and had his team run into the courtyard.

All along a minor drama was playing out in the kitchen, where Lana Kross (Doctor Kross' wife) had used the distraction of the attack to launch her own assault on her guard with a skillet, to good effect eventually. Dr Kross, on the other hand, was happy to seek out ever more secure places in the barn. No hero, he.

Copperfield found cover and went to ground, wounded as he was. Captain Forsyth made his way to the front of the house where he attempted shots at the mysterious shadowy figure stalking him along the front wall of the Ranch House. Waldmont halted to give fire and ordered a hired hand to aide Forsyth. Reverend Fogg Burst into the house and ran straight for the obese German who was loudly shouting demands that the guards kill "the English scum". Fogg burst past the astounded guards and attempted a grapple on the German, who shrugged off this attack, ordered the guards to lower their weapons and challenged Fogg to a bare-knuckle boxing match there and then.

It was around this point that Waldmont was shot by a guard from the barn, and critically wounded, falling to the ground like a sack of King Edwards. In short order the Hired Hands, who had been about to decide whether to cut and run, were gunned down, as was the Hired Hand sent to help Forsyth.

Forsyth looked on helplessly as Waldmont, far out of reach and enfiladed by guards, gave a shudder and succumbed to his wounds.

Reverend Fogg exchanged a few spirited blows with the German but knew almost immediately he was outmatched, so he took an opportunity to leap our of the door and run for cover.

Captain Forsythe and his one remaining Hired Hand found a Bunkhouse window and attempted to ambush Dead-Eye Pete, who had made his appearance at the Bunkhouse door. The gunfire on both sides was inconclusive, so Forsyth and the Hired Hand ran for cover. Unfortunately, Dead-Eye Pete was able to shoot the Hired Hand as they fled. Fortunately, he could not shoot Forsyth, who was in very bad shape as it was, and holding himself together by sheer willpower.

The operation was over, and none of the objectives had been achieved.

---

Clear Credit: Map of the Cairo Ranch from page 115 of the Space 1889:Red Sands setting book published by Pinnacle Entertainment Group. Map reproduced in part to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. I do not have clear attribution for the art itself, the book citing Interior art by: Richard Clark, Christophe Swal Cartography by: Jordan Peacock. If the responsible artist will contact me I will attribute properly.