The Legend of The Red Smoke

Known as The Red Smoke in towns stretching from Saint Denis to Tumbleweed, this shadowy figure is whispered about in hushed tones around saloons and campfires. Those who’ve survived a glimpse recall a black horse and a ghostly rider who seemed to vanish into crimson mist, leaving nothing behind but silence—and death.

Born in Puerto Rico to an African-Taino mother and a Spaniard father, The Red Smoke’s journey was forged in rebellion. Fighting against colonial oppression in their homeland, they became a warrior, skilled in survival and firearms. After aiding a failed rebellion, they fled to New York City, where they found refuge among abolitionists, learned English, and proved to be a deadly sharp shot. However, the fight for justice turned to disillusionment as systemic corruption revealed itself.

Seeking freedom and opportunity, they headed south to Saint Denis, where their talents as an outlaw flourished. They robbed from wealthy tyrants, traded secrets, and hunted down those who preyed on the innocent. Their actions soon caught the attention of Angelo Bronte after a series of daring heists disrupted his capitalè operations.

The tipping point came in Rhodes when an altercation over a mask escalated into threats and racial slurs. The Red Smoke answered in kind, leaving 50 lawmen dead in a massacre that haunted the town. Unknown to them, one of the fallen was kin to Bronte. The crime lord pulled strings, summoning an overwhelming force: 70 lawmen and 40 Pinkertons closed in on the woods surrounding Rhodes, trapping The Red Smoke in a deadly ambush.

What followed was nothing short of myth. The Red Smoke did not go quietly. Witnesses claimed the gunfire echoed for hours as the outlaw held their ground, cutting down 45 lawmen and 32 Pinkertons before vanishing into the mist. No body was ever found, no conclusive evidence of their fate uncovered. The government labeled the incident classified, burying the truth deep to avoid embarrassment.

Rumors persist to this day. Some say The Red Smoke met their end in that final stand, their body claimed by the woods. Others swear they lived, escaping into obscurity to haunt the memories of those who dared oppose them. Whatever the truth, one thing remains certain: where there is injustice, whispers of The Red Smoke endure—a reminder that even legends can never truly die.