The Journal of Felicity Redfield

During our May 2024 event, THE ATROCITY, we released a series of in-game journal entries from the diary of Felicity Redfield, first written and portrayed by Shan Lind. This face NPC was a major character in our stories over the last five seasons and was a powerful member of the Railroad Conglomerate before her final death. This journal was written by Heather Halstead and details some in-character spoilers for major plot events over the past few seasons, from Felicity’s perspective. As these items were released physically in-game, we wanted to present another option to read the info within without having to necessarily track down the specific journal pages.

Enjoy!

Felicity Redfield, C.E.O. of the Railroad Conglomerate

As she was born into a lesser Pureblood House before the Hiway War, following its conclusion, Felicity Redfield found herself in a unique position of power. As one of the few remaining members of the extended Lineage League, Felicity used what remained of her clout and dowry to form the Railroad Conglomerate and spent the ugly, irradiated years following the Hiway War building train-tracks across what is now the Greater San Saba. 

Her crowning achievement is the settlement of New Bravado, which she owns down to the rocks the city is built on, followed shortly thereafter by the creation of The Iron Ox; a locomotive of monolithic proportions, designed to endure the threats of the Greater Wastes as it trucks goods between settlements at speed.  The tracks of the RRC Oxline stretch further each day as the influence of the rail system continues to grow. Felicity has spearheaded “delves” into the uncharted ruins underneath Bravado in search of some unknown goal, using resources found beneath to fund future endeavors.

Deeply motivated to create a more magnificent future in her image, Felicity is a founding member of the San Saba Board. Despite multiple assassination attempts this last year, Felicity’s can-do attitude and plucky persistence is symbolic of both the spirit of the Lone Star and the citizens of Bravado. Her company, thanks to a merger in 04” PHW, still retains two of the six votes needed to change San Saba Law, and her alliance with the Junkerpunks has ensured that only a tie-breaking vote from the Chair can prevent most of her efforts from passing. Though she has not always seen eye to eye with the Board and the Chairman, her ambition has continued to reap dividends for the RRC.

++ SPOILER WARNING ++

May, PHW00

It is done now. Our captors, our tormentors, bleed on the cobblestones. The chaos of war allows for many things. This will be one of them. I thank Hiway Rob for that, at least. I and my fellows will not be satisfied to merely kill them. I will take from them as they took from me. Degraded us to nothing but animals, serving them as less than people. Less than. I will take their name, their wealth, their power.. I will use it to replace a past I can only recall in fleeting memories. I will leave nothing behind to assume this new personhood. Create a new life. All my attempts to learn my own history have been for nothing, so rather than dwell I will use it to my advantage. If I can find nothing, no one else will either. My history begins on this plantation. It will end here too. Today, who I was is dead and gone, and now instead I will become a Redfield. A fake pureblood. I watched them enough to know how to pretend. All they ever were was pretend. False smiles and empty promises. And maybe some table manners. And who would have the audacity to question me? 

Felicity. I like that name. Felicity Redfield. 

June, PHW02

Dr. Sung laughed and called me his good luck charm. He was skeptical when I asked him about his research. But It was important to me. I may not be an engineer, or a scientist, but the rail lines were a sure fire way to bring the San Saba back to its former glory, and I wanted that to succeed. The smaller trains we’d developed but weren’t enough. Too slow. Too fragile. Sung had a vision of a train that would put all the others to shame. A symbol, even more than a mode of transport. A way to truly link the smaller settlements and finally reestablish safe trade routes that the war had cast into chaos. It was hard enough to get the rail lines themselves built, the RRC spent a fortune on workers and protection, not just from the zed, but the bandits, and a tribe of folks who seemed dead set to keep us moored in the past, constantly destroying the tracks. 

But I charmed it out of him. I got Sung to tell me his plan… and I made a deal. I led him right to what he needed. I don’t know how I knew it was there.. But a scrapyard, in the midst of the Dune Sea. I gave him a map, and we waited weeks, me, nervous, him, extremely skeptical.. Until the mercs he hired returned, dragging a huge, shockingly whole, engine. Bigger than any I’d ever seen. It wasn’t functional, but by the look on Dr. Sung’s face.. It would be. 

The Ox was both our tickets to the top. And the RRC’s ticket to solvency. 

I’ll have to buy the Doctor a drink. 

July, PHW03

The dreams again. Strange doors in places I’m certain I’ve never been. Shining, metal surfaces. Strange devices that seem far beyond the science I’m familiar with. It's always so vivid. 

I found a door today. Radiation levels in the caldera created by the great bomb are finally at tolerable limits after three years. The Railroad Commission is sending scouts out now… and I was first to go. I am no scout but.. I found it. In a fissure in the earth, shifted from the explosion. I knew before we descended into this Breach that we’d find the door. I knew just where to look. 

But I’m not sure how. 

I suppose it doesn't matter. This discovery will cement my position with the RRC. I will discover its mysteries. The facility is massive.. And it's ours. 

October, PHW03

They’ve come. The delvers. Logically I knew they would, but in my heart I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this place filled with people again. It isn’t the same. The town I knew is at the bottom of the lake.. But it's a close facsimile. Maybe the best we could really hope for. And I will MAKE it a place worth living. I’ve made myself indispensable to the project. To the RRC. No one has as much luck as I do identifying good delving sites. We’ve made multiple entries into the facility now. I’ve started to broker a deal with the Amberdraughts in Essex. I want the mineral rights to this place. Everything below the ground. If I can find them a way to access the portions of The Facility under Essex..  They’re sure to make the trade. But They’re skeptical. I have no proof that the Facility extends that far. But I just KNOW it does. 

Too Bad Governor Amberdraught won’t sign a contract based on “womanly intuition.”

July, PHW04

I’ve met a very interesting man. No, not like that. He’s connected, and ambitious, and seems to truly want to improve the San Saba. He’s someone willing to dream big. And he’s proposed a new way to manage the Lonestar Wastes. A way to bring more civility to a place that has struggled with chaos and lawlessness ever since the Hiway War. I do not know exactly where he came from, but he’s extraordinarily well connected, already boasts many fervently loyal retainers, and a vast sum of wealth. I’d heard of him before now, of course, but I was unprepared for the weight of his conviction.

We discussed the future.. He wants to form a Board. Representatives from the major financial institutions. I was, at first, hesitant at putting this man at the head of it all, but he really seems to have vision, and with his connections, seems to have a pull and sway on the other factions that is largely unprecedented. He says he can help me with the Conglomerate. Stoggy knowitalls… I need access to their technology, but as of yet, they won't consider it. This man has an in. I’ll back him in his plans to secure the Chairman seat. With his dedication, maybe we really can make the San Saba a better place.

And get access to those damn Digitarian archives.

August, PHW04

I’ve DONE IT!

Finally, with weeks and weeks of negotiations, the deal is SEALED. The Contract is signed, and the Railroad Commission will soon be the Railroad Conglomerate. My brain is scrambled from the amount of back and forth, but it's done. I have my access to Waking Prime, and all their records. Their vaults. Their research! And it's already paid off beautifully. I found a strange stone disc. With carvings and a way to rotate the inner disc from the outer... It's so odd though. I know things about this stone that I shouldn't. I knew how it functioned as soon as I saw it.. And I knew without looking there would be a small gouge in the back right side where a chisel slipped by mistake…. It’s a strange sense of Deja vu. 

But ultimately unimportant. I was able to use it to finish the translation of the strange runes I’ve found and I am one step closer to finding the nameless thing I seek. 

They thought they got the better end of this bargain with unfettered access to the Ox, the rail lines.. two seats on The Board. But I have the first pieces.. and evidence of another artifact I have to see. It’s buried beneath Prudence. I’ll have to schedule a meeting with Miss St. Mercy. 

September, PHW04

I must admit, Tabitha holds a certainty of what she wants, and is ruthless in her pursuit of it. She was aware of the obelisk in the depths of the prison. It was near the morgue, within the XXX wing. Getting there was.. Well I’d rather not relive it. That place should not exist. All twists and turns and illogical geometry. It made my skin crawl. Her price was my backing for her seat on the Board, and support of her projects. I withheld blanket support, but was driven to relent on more terms than I am happy with. After seeing the XXX wing, I worry that the contract we signed will soon haunt me.

But I’ve seen it now. The Obelisk beneath Killhouse. Its carvings were unique, and I could see that there were TWO forms of this strange language. The low form I’d already translated, but also another script. A common language, and a High language, if you will. More a series of glyphs than a language of sentences and grammatical structure! They describe a Roving City.. lost to time. And now I know its name. 

Barogue.

January, PHW04

Bravado, Essex, Waking, The Clutch, Prudence, Widow’s Peak.. they all hold these strange obelisks. All festooned with Barogian glyphs. It's a network. A map. Barogue has been a legend for ages, and no one has ever found it.. Because they were all looking in the wrong place. The patterns created by these monuments of strangely carved stone and the information stored within them.. I can trace it back to a starting point. They all tend to point in the same direction. Towards Hell Dorado. Into the Dune Sea. 

I need to find it, but a proper expedition will be extremely costly. And the Dune Sea is extremely treacherous. If I can negotiate a larger cut from the Brass Rose’s Dead Man’s Hand… that may be enough to make the expedition happen. I could offer to provide the security in exchange. The Red Ledger is always looking for work. And maybe if I toss in the map as a prize, I can drum up enough interest to get enough artisans out to that god forsaken leviathan pit to exhume the city. 

Why does this mystery fill my thoughts? I can lie to myself and claim ambition.. Opportunity.. Capital.. But truly I want nothing more than to take off into the desert in search of it at this very moment. Maybe finding it will help rid me of its hold on my dreams.

The potential brass it represents doesn't hurt either.

May, PHW04

The moment I fell through the sand into the grandness of the Roving City, my heart sang.. Then balked. The sheer number of conflicting emotions running through me was staggering, and confusing. A sense of homecoming.. And grief. 

I don’t know why, But I WILL find out. I will dig out every nook, every manuscript.. Every piece of Barogue so it tells me all its secrets. I’ve started to move pieces of the ancient technology we found out of the city for further study. Part of me is worried that I am shirking my other responsibilities. Many Board Meetings have either happened without me, or gone forward while my mind was endlessly theorizing about the mystery of Barogue while sitting at that table. I am not proud that I have not been as present, not as conscientious on the motions we vote on, as I usually am. But In my waking thoughts it plagues me, and in my dreams it beckons me. 

I found a strange painting. It was a likeness on the stones. Rotted and damaged.. But it looked.. Like me. My rational mind dismissed it as a thought of sheer hubris.. But I can’t get rid of this panicked flutter in my heart whenever it comes to mind. 

I should employ another secretary. The Prufrock’s are capable and I should utilize my assets more. I simply have too much to focus on, between votes on policy and project funding, the Barogue dig site, and finding a way to get into CRADLE again, despite the lack of cooperation from the RRC at large, I am stretched thin. Bravado and Barogue are connected and I need to know how. The words we found echo in my skull. Scrawlings of the Ruler of Barogue..

“If not here, Then East, to the Pridelands. If not here, then I will go where it all began. To the Cradle.

October PHW06

I have tried to maintain my faith in this system we have created, but more and more, I fear that I’ve been.. Misled. 

No.. that’s not fair. I was not so much kept in the dark as I did not bother to open the door. I allowed people to tell me what was behind it. I believed them. Even when I had all the reason in the world to be suspect. I should have asked more questions. But I was distracted. Always distracted. Focused on the goal. The end and ignoring the means. Willfully. I am no less dedicated to this place, to the rule of law.. But Barogue has become an obsession. I need to pull back. I’ve let myself be used. I am suddenly opening my eyes to all the warnings I’ve ignored for much too long and I am afraid it's too late to correct course. 

I am complicit. The Choir. I, more than anyone, know of its horrors. I’ve read about it, seen the chambers… and to realize now the project was resurrected. I thought The Rook was insane. Spouting nonsense. Though, the records I have been combing through these last few days tell me that the development didn’t seem to start until after her crass and idiotic accusations at the Emerald Gala. Ironic. And this Necrophage business. If I admit how little I was aware of the particulars I’ll look laughably incompetent. It’s an abomination. It’s still hard to believe that we had such a large part in it. 

I supported Tabitha. I knew St. Mercy was ambitious but I grossly overestimated her lack of moral fiber.. Or overestimated the Board’s ability, or desire, to keep her in check. I am truly terrified that the dream we shared has been corrupted in his heart. I still believe in the dream of a better world. But now I look to the Chairman and worry. I supported him AND the (former) Warden. Now those choices seem short sighted. A means to an end that I did not expect would turn to bite me quite so hard. I, again, may have helped a man gain power only to watch him abuse it. 

I have to believe it’s not too late to change course.  I will do everything I can to use legislation and the rule of law to keep him in check. It means I might have to do more distasteful things. But I’ll make him see reason. To redirect the resources of the Board in a positive way. I fear if I don’t, the consequences will be catastrophic. The Rook and those like her are loud.. And there were not nearly as many voices decrying her as I would like to see. The only way to make sure the terrorist’s conspiracy theories don’t gain ground is to legitimately prove them to be FALSE. 

I just hope to god I’m not bailing water out of a doomed ship. 

September PHW07

I can hear it. Me and the Unborn. A beckoning call to the desert again. What does it mean that I’m included in this strange musical call? I must know.. So I go. Of course I go. 

Something stirred when he awoke. Thoughts that are not mine. Memories. I avoided him, but I don’t know why. I just knew it was so important he did not see my face. Hear my voice. 

I woke up in a room I did not fall asleep in this morning. In front of a page of writing in my handwriting, that I did not write. It left me shaken and honestly.. terrified.

Something claws at the edges of my being. It's like my very Imprint is fighting something away. Grasping hands. Stranger dreams. Something wants to overwhelm me. Move my limbs and speak my words. But I am not going to let this strange power overtake me. This is my life. The past doesn’t matter. I have fought long and hard to get where I am. I have not been perfect, but I have been successful, and I’ll be damned if I let some strange mortis affliction take any of that away from me. 

I was the one who remade myself at the end of the Hiway War. I discovered the facility. I made the RRC what it is today. Bravado exists because of ME. Felicity Redfield. The past is immaterial now.

I won’t give up what I’ve made of myself and bow to it. 

Sept PHW07

So much has happened, and much too fast. I am no stranger to assassinations but the war, the unrest.. The fraying of my identity… I had to leave. I had to make space for myself. Give myself time, away from my enemies, to regroup. It hurts me that I might need to hire a food taster for myself. A bodyguard. Buying infection isn’t a problem, but it doesn’t mean the process doesn’t leave a mark. And the paranoia I am plagued with makes sleep difficult and focus a rare luxury. So for now I’ll keep my head down in the North, and do what I can for Bravado from afar. Just for a while. 

Feb PHW07

They came for me. Red Ledger thugs. I expected it. When Bravado declared their rebellion, I could hardly blame them. The Board has failed them. No.. the Board has actively misused them. The war has pushed the Chairman beyond saving. His dream is dead, and only lives on in a pathetic ruse he uses to justify his actions to himself. I was apprehended before I even had a chance to declare my stance on the Rebellion. My loyalties to Bravado were assumed. And frankly, not incorrectly. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I own the land. I am not sure how I can help them now. Legislation has failed. Laws have failed. So much of what I was trying to build, crumbling away. And here I sit in a fucking prison cell. Rotting. No trial. No way out. 

Mostly no way out. 

May PHW08

It boils inside me. This erosion of my inner self. I don’t dream as myself anymore. Not at all. It's just desert sands and ancient faces. I can feel myself unraveling. Being.. Erased. 

He came to my cell today. To gloat, maybe. We shared a kinship once, but now there is a wild look to his eyes. I don’t know when his break occurred.. Or maybe it was always occurring. Fine lines slowly turning into cracks. Or maybe this has always been who he is, and he was just very good at hiding it, or I was too blinded by my own ambition to see it. 

I feel like I am ending where I began, sprawled on a dirty mattress on the stones of a damp cellar. Unkempt. Unwashed. But there won’t be an uprising this time. At least not in the same way. He told me he’s made a deal. A deal with the Prince Undying.. To reenact the Atrocity that the Barogian manuscripts talk about. 

You see, every person is linked, psionically. Some more to others. We are tied to places, ideas, other people.. These links can be manipulated by beings with enough raw power. It’s rare, that kind of energy.. But the Prince possesses it. He’ll take that link that Vados share to that place, to Bravado, and use it as an anchor around their necks, dragging them into the Mortis wholesale. Their camaraderie being used against them. He said it’s already begun. People in Essex who were from the outskirts of the town.. Falling dead in the streets of Essex. Dragged away by horrible shadows… 

He told me I’m helpless to save my precious town. Once they’re all dead.. It will be his. The town, the Facility, everything. 

My skull pounds. Someone is clawing at the inside of my skull to be let free and until now I have held her back. I wouldn’t give up the life I’d built, the hope for the future I’ve had.. for her. She had her time and now it's my turn. 

But on the floor of this damned prison cell, Arthur is right about one thing. Felicity has no power here. Not anymore. But she has power I don’t. She could rival the Prince Undying. 

But god can I really do what has to be done to let her out? That means… I can’t even write it. But my other option is to stay like this and watch Arthur destroy everything I built. If it's all gone, what's left of me, anyway? 

I write all this but… I know what I have to do. There's no real choice. There aren’t two options. But I don’t want to die. God I don’t want to die. 

I can’t risk losing my nerve, so I’ll do the one thing I still have connections to do. Send a message. I never figured out who carried out my last assassination, but I was able to suss out what organization requested it. I don’t know how they’ll get to me.. But they’ve proved extremely competent in the past. I can get out one last message.. Then wait for the end. 

Felicity Redfield was born in shackles on the dirty cold floor of a cellar, and this is where she’ll die.

Goodbye Bravado.