Just came up with that title, most likely will be changed some time, any whoo. This is a work in progress of a pen and paper RPG game I tried to run last year. I see it as a combination of turn of 1800s, steam punk meets DnD meets league of extraordinary gentlemen.  I'll expand on it later this is what I had in mind as a intro.

June 15th 1799
Two men come stumbling out of the Blarney Stone Pub in Dublin Ireland, the gas street lamps illuminating the quiet streets.  
"I'm telling you I can jump my horse over any creek." John White says using his friend to lean on.
"And I'm telling you there's no way that old mare of yours could jump a hay bale let alone a creek" says Earnest who leans right back against John as they make their way down the road.
"Old? Old!" John shouts pushing off Earnest and moving into a unsteady fighting position "Marigold is hardly 7 years old..." as John's foot slips in an odd puddle.
"Blimey, are you alright John?" Earnest slurs as he kneels down to check his friend and manages to put his hand directly in the strange substance.  He lifts his hand up towards the nearest street lamp trying to get a look at the thick liquid covering his palm only to see his distorted reflection.  "Quicksilver, in the streets?"
"What are you blathering about?" John questions having forgotten about the previous conversation and now focusing on his bruised backside.
"Look" Earnest exclaims nearly shoving his hand into Johns face. "The chemist must have dropped a shipment, the street's nearly running with the stuff." He jesters at the glistening lines running through the cobble stone street, making a silver web in the gaslight.
"Well come on." John pipes out "Lets see what else the old coot buggered up."
The two regain their unruly footing and slowly make their way up the street the half block following the silver trail.  Still a few doors from the chemist's shop they see their trail leading them to an ally. As they round the corner they both stand dumb founded looking at the source of their silver reflective trail.  Lying dead in the ally is the most magnificent jet black horse they have ever seen with a  spiraling ivory horn jetting out of its head.
After a few moments of silence they slowly turn to each other and say in almost perfect unison "Thats not possible..."