[hr][hr] [center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/LOxPnlN.png[/img] [/center] [center][b][sub][url=https://youtu.be/HWULn1qjKIM]|| Soundtrack ||[/url][/sub][/b][/center] [hr][hr] [i][color=lightgray]The 12:15 train coming from Benningsfield was going to be arriving just on time. As with many steam engines of the time it was a monster of iron and scraps, all held together by human ingenuity and the sheer willpower that mankind will continue to thrive. It had been 80 years since the fall, and yet cities and towns were still sprouting up, families were still being made and jobs were still being done. There was a testament to the tenacity to mankind to preserve through it all; to keep pushing forward. Just like a train. Burning fifty miles an hour, furnace burning hot coals; conductors and staff sweating to keep her pushing forward. A nonstop locomotive heading towards a destination: Blackfinger. Not everyone came by train, of course. Some rode in on their horses. Others took a carriage. Some came by barge or ferry; and the lucky few came by zeppelin giving them save passage over the most dangerous terrain. This was market day. People were piling in from the hundreds from as far as New Washington, Brigham’s Stead and even New Rojas. Blackfinger was the place to buy anything. New handguns imported from north Kingston, where the Freetowns’ armory lay. Fresh grains from Georgetown to the east, or red maize from the west. Today was the day you could find anything and anyone you needed. Passengers from all walks sat on the train. Bounty hunters. Musicians. Trappers. Doctors. Good men, dirty women, honest ladies and lying vagrants. The siren call of the city brought them all here today. All for one reason or another. Everyone comes around market day. But no one ever expects what happens next. [/color][/i] [hr][hr][center] [h1]ACT I[/h1][h2]BLACKFINGER[/h2][/center]