Eli Fitzsimmons


Next door to the ‘Spruce Caboose’ is a nondescript shop front with “Fitzsimmons’ Postal Courier Service” painted crudely on it. The place needs a lot of work. It has had no noticeable maintenance since Eli took over the place from his elder Brother Tom five years ago.

Tom is rumoured to have headed off into the hills to hunt and was never seen again. His satchel was found snagged on a tree root in Big Creek some weeks later, it’s leather strap severed and a brace of gophers bound by their haunches still inside. The bleached bones from a man’s right hand were also found in the bag, wrapped in an oilskin. Eli has never spoken about his brother since the funeral service held at the behest of Pastor Whitman where he said a short eulogy and read a poem from Tennyson.

Eli is almost emaciated, his gaunt body accentuates his age making him seem older than his years. His heavily ringed eyes tell of sleepless nights and troubled thoughts. His clothes are almost in rags, badly in need of a needle and thread. With tangled hair and scraggy beard he gives the impression of one who has given up on living but hasn’t yet told himself to stop. His work has managed to keep him active and has become all-encompassing for him. Most nights when he isn’t on a delivery himself he can be seen pouring over old books by lamplight, possibly these are ledgers of trade but none are sure why this keeps him from his bed.

He employs several young men as couriers throughout the district and these riders are rumored to earn a fair wage for their work. Although some say that this is ‘danger money’ as tales of dead or missing postal workers are common.

Eli Fitzsimmons

Weird Wild West glewcifer