The party is travelling south, a 100-mile trip from Steaming Rock to Silver City, to pick up a corpse and belongings. But first, they have to navigate the wilds of 1870s New Mexico.

The plan was simple: Diago and his wagon, pulled by “the worst horse”, Boots, would be accompanied by Cody, Winston, Daan and Dutch. A ten-day trip to Silver City, pick up the body of bounty hunter Tommy Vance (not that one) and return it to Steaming Rock, so that Tommy’s “best friend” Ellis Rockcliffe can give him the burial he deserves.

On the second day, the sun again beat down, skin blistered, and sweat pooled. They found the perfect campsite, secluded, up in the hills, but with a good source of water and the opportunity for catching some game. Only Cody was uncertain; he’d heard and seen subtle signs that someone was watching them, following them, but they were good, they’d kept hidden all this time, but still.

Late at night, Diago goes to wake Cody for the next watch, but before he reaches his sleeping companion, he hears a disturbance near where the horses are tied up. The horses are spooked, pulling at their ropes and rearing up in the air. Boots pulls too hard, and his rope slips. He runs off into the night, eyes bulging with fear.

Diago rushes back, waking Cody, “The horses are loose!” Cody leaps up, grabs his gun and fires at the dark shape that had been skulking in the shadows, a grey wolf. A yelp and it disappears into the underbrush. The others are now all awake, guns out, searching for more of the critters, but there is no sign of them, nor is there any sign of Boots. They settle back down, waiting for the light, to then go and look for their itinerant beast of burden.

As dawn comes, Diago looks across to the horses, seeing his horse Boots nibbling on the grass, oblivious to any danger, neighing annoyingly.

The third day, if possible, was the hottest so far; they’d reached a canyon, travelling through as the horses’ hooves echoed in this space, but at least there was some shade. Dutch pointed up ahead, and they briefly saw an Apache brave, standing high up on the cliff, stock still. A warning? A challenge?

Dutch clambered up the slope to get a better view, but the ground gave way, rocks falling onto the group below. Winston was nearly knocked off his horse. Dutch clambered up, but the Apache was nowhere to be seen. From his viewpoint, Dutch could see a fork in the road, the road split south and east, and at the fork, a small figure, a child, hunched over. Further to the east, the ominous sign of buzzards circling.

They reached the child, also Apache, a half-unconscious girl, lips cracked, eyes half-closed, hunched in a ball, covered in dust.

Diago and Daan managed to get a few words out of her; her family was up the track to the east, people were sick, they needed help, would the party help them?

Some discussion, but eventually Diago convinced others to head east, return the girl to her family, and help out, if they could.

As they turn to leave, the Apache is spotted, drawing a finger across his throat, then he is gone. Cody thinks she saw more sadness than anger in his face.

With the girl’s instructions, they soon made their way to the ranch. She told them on the way that, as one of the few not sick, she had been told to wait by the road and wave down any passersby. A few miles, an hour later, and they reached the ranch; a few houses, barns, a corral, a store and a well. On the side of one house, a red cross, the windows covered in white linen and the doors barred with wood. It was deathly quiet, just the occasional squawk of the buzzards that perched on the roof of the barn.

Diago called out, but no response. Dead cattle could be seen in the corral. This had all the signs of disease, the Pox. Cody suggested they leave; they’d take the girl, find her family, but they can’t stay here any longer.

Dutch meanwhile had wandered over to the well, the bucket full of water, some white residue had collected at the bottom, he knew this meant something, but his rudimentary doctorin’ just couldn’t conjure up the meaning.

The Apache girl looked at the well, telling them that she usually drank from the river, maybe her family were down there. Heading to the river, they passed the corral, the cattle dead, but weirdly, the sores and lesions turned out to be painted on. Someone was going to a lot of trouble to make this look like an outbreak of the pox. Finding no one at the river, they returned to the ranch.

Diago had been nervous about entering the house without red crosses, but now that there was doubt about an infection, he stepped inside. It was clear there had been a fight, chairs broken, ornaments smashed, the rug pulled up. Beneath the rug, a trapdoor, open and a crawlway under the house and away, an escape? Also, a journal on the floor, the last entry from a day ago, “He said it wasn’t pox. He said they brought it in the feed… He tried to run this morning… they shot him.”

Diago beckoned the Apache girl inside, Góyąń (GOH-yahn). She immediately jumped down into the crawl space, emerging from the other side. She pointed to some leaves, turned upside down, and then the grass flattened, the shape of feet. Also, were those horseshoe marks? The girl spoke, “My family came this way, the leaves, they left me this sign, this path leads up into the mountains, a safe place, we must follow. Others on horses followed them. Please help me.”

Diago looked pleadingly at his friends. The group nodded, parking the wagon, saddling Boots and heading off up the trail, into the mountains.

GM Notes

This was my first attempt at creating an event for Tales of the Old West. I called it Ghost Town, but essentially a bit of a mystery for the group to investigate and a moral quandary of whether to help or expose themselves to disease.

I think it worked well, although it has taken them off the path from Adventure 2 for Steaming Rock, but a 10-day / 100-mile journey needs a bit of excitement!

We struggled a little bit with Trouble on non-physical skills, e.g. Doctorin’ (investigating the well); the results didn’t really fit the situation, so I just improvised from some of the other columns in the Trouble table.

I am trying to get the group to respond to prompts between our fortnightly sessions. They did some great work on this this time and lots of good stuff to leverage for later sessions.

Regular Stars and Wishes are also helping me adjust the sandbox beyond the core campaign.