Demomire, January 17th 1867 My Dearest Bartholomew, Your words found me in the quiet of an evening cloaked in Demomire’s lingering fog, a constant reminder
13th January 1865 Lionel, As I sit here in the dim glow of a lamp, penning this letter, I can’t help but marvel at the
January 5th, 1867 Journal of Thomas Dawson. Another day draws to a close out here at the homestead. I sit by the dying firelight, scratching
4th Of January 1867 My Dearest Sister Mary, I hope this letter finds you well, or as well as one can be within the ironclad
January 3rd, 1867 Dear Miss Dropwater, It is with a heart buoyed by anticipation that I pen this letter to you. Your request to engage
Journal Entry for Abagail Merchent, January 2nd 1867 Today marks the first entry of my new life. The soft glow of the morning sun spills
Steel wheels screeched against iron rails as the locomotive sliced through the hazy dawn. Steam plumed from its chimney, a leviathan of industry snaking towards Fort Brashear. Inside, passengers settled into the rhythm of the journey, their chatter and laughter mingling with the clatter of the train. A man in a pinstripe suit, Emerson Crane […]
Jean-Luc Moreau watched as his passengers explored the banks of their newfound world, each person engaged in their own discovery. The air was filled with
