Case 18: Entry 1

You know, I really thought a troll would take more than one evening to deal with. Maybe it'll be more interesting next time. Anyway, I've got a new case dealing with artifacts. A grad student by the name of Emily Belmonte just inherited a very big house and some very arcane artifacts from her great uncle, Henry Belmonte. I've actually heard a lot about this guy. Supposedly he was a huge collector of supernatural artifacts and literature. Whatever the case, Emily is his last living family member and she's asked me to come appraise the collection and find buyers for each item. If I do this, I'm entitled to ten percent of the total worth of the collection, which can be taken in the form of money, particular items, or any combination of the two.

Seems pretty simple, and probably more profitable than all my other cases put together and then tripled. What could go wrong?

Special Report 52

After considering the field reports and data collected from various media, I have concluded that the recent rash of hostile paranormal activity can be traced back to a single creature, which has begotten various lesser monsters along the way. There are many stories in folklore and mythology about such creatures. Grendel's Mother and Loki come to mind. However, this creature appears to be either a lesser specimen or else perhaps has not reached maturity as it has only spawned three species of monsters. These are the lamprey-tongued shapeshifter, the therianthrope resembling a werewolf save that it changes each night and more closely resembles a hellhound than a wolf, and the cyclopean creature which takes so readily to sewers. All other creatures that have been reported belong to previously observed species, though many are obscure and/or have not been seen and recorded for centuries. I believe these specimens emerge from humans and animals with traces of magic in their ancestry. So a human with latent werewolf blood suddenly aquires the curse, someone whose grandfather was a spiritcaller starts summoning imps, and a cat whose ancestor was experimented on by alchemists spontaneously turns into a manticore. Additionally, while the creature's movements had at first appeared to be random, I have come to suspect that it is visiting sites of significantly evil or destructive events on the anniversaries of said events. In my attached notes I have included the theoretical formula I believe explains its movements, and if I am correct then the most likely place for it to appear next is Chicago on the anniversary on the completion of H.H. Holmes' famous "murder mansion."

That is my analysis of the data as it has been presented to me. Now comes the part where I tell you and your agents how to do your job.

Above all else, you must keep in mind that these progenitors are generally regarded in mythology as gods or else as peers of the gods. Given this, even a lesser progenitor should be treated as above class five. While it would make an excellent research subject, it should absolutely not be taken in alive. Even dead, the creature should be treated with extreme caution. I recommend the use of basilisk venom and sacred weapons approaching the level of Excalibur. The heart should be pierced and there should be separate containment units for the head, the torso, and each of the limbs. Additionally, I would suggest that there be a specially selected team assigned to deal with the Progenitor, as I would call the primary target. I've seen the divination section of your vaults, and I think you have plenty of ways to choose this team. After they are selected, these agents should undergo a ritual of some kind--I would suggest they enter a sweat lodge--in preparation for the mission. No other agents should attempt to confront the Progenitor, although if the pattern holds there should be plenty of other nasties for them to occupy themselves with.

I hope my analysis proves useful and that you will contact me if any new information comes up. Happy hunting.

Case 15: Entry 5

Yesterday I went home to Sacramento to retrieve an item vital to this case. More specifically, I went home to get my cat, Nox.

Once I knew (or at least had a good guess) why the nomads and the creature are in Monterey it was relatively easy to find the child. Most of the data was already there buried in the omens and anomalies surrounding both Felix Fauoni and the Man of the Crowd, and between those signs indicative of a budding magus and my new equipment I was able to find her in less than a day. The camera wasn't much use until I had a relatively small pool of candidates, but I also made a sort of compass/thermometer (I know, I'll call it an arcanometer!) using tiny samples from plants, artifacts, and sites heavily saturated with different kinds of magical energy. Once I knew where the child lived (not to mention the fact that she existed at all) I had to figure out how to keep an eye on her. I have no idea if the Felix Fauoni should be trusted with her, but I do know that the Man of the Crowd is a danger to her. Of course, a guy sitting around guarding a child looks a lot like a guy stalking a child.

Good thing cats are traditional guardians against supernatural threats. It's also a good thing people in general and small children in particular tend to like cats. Not that I think Nox could actually fight off the thing, but he can at least raise the alarm. That way I don't have to be parked in front of her house to keep watch. I've found a few places I can stand guard without too much danger of being bothered.

Anyway, the day has begun and so has my watch. I'll continue to update this entry as events unfold.

* * * * *

It's been five hours and I still haven't the slightest idea of how to kill or even bind the ugly little fiend. What little lord there is doesn't say anything about it being afraid of or vulnerable to any metals, herbs, flowers, animals, or sacred texts. There's also nothing to indicate that it's related to any other particular creatures. Dragging it out into the wilderness fifty miles from any real city would probably work pretty well, but I don't think that's an option for now.  I suppose the best I can do is make an educated guess and pick four or five exorcisms and rites of banishment/purification.

* * * * *

I did a little digging on the girl just now. I couldn't get much without leaving my post, but...I think Helen (that's her name) could be a victim of abuse. That would explain why she was calling out.

* * * * *

It started around six in the afternoon. I don't know exactly what happened, but my arcanometer (okay, now it's starting to look dumb) went nuts and then a second later I heard Nox. I got on the scene just in time to see Helen's father, his face and arms shredded with clawmarks, backing away from Nox.

And then I processed the fact that Helen had just sprinted past me. And she was headed downtown.

As it turns out, little girls are fast. I must have gone at least three blocks before I caught up. That was when the air got thick and everything was cast in shades of gray and the stale yellow of artificial light. It didn't take long to see the child huddled in a bright ball of color as the Man of the Crowd loomed over her.

I began the first exorcism, and he turned to stare those horrid yellow eyes at me. He advanced, and I'm sure he would have killed me if the man I believe to be the Father of the nomads hadn't intervened. Like the girl, he still had color, and he was wreathed in a faint red light. He struck the creature in jaw and followed up with a blow to the gut, but the triumph was only momentary. The creature moved like a man trained violence both thuggish and sleek. As it fought the Father I felt the air grow even thicker, and the shadows of the gray men and women around us, each one totally oblivious to the struggle, stretched and rose from the surfaces upon which they crawled. I finished the incantation, and nothing happened. Then the shadows began to move.

Other members of the Felix Fauoni showed up quickly after that. Uncle was throwing playing cards around like shuriken and they were having a similar effect on the shadows. Mother held what looked like a perfume bottle and she chanted melodically as a pink mist rose up from it. A few of the musicians (including Cynthia, not that it matters, I just wanted to be specific) also showed up. Their music seemed to hurt the shadows, but none of it did more than stall the situation. Finally, pastel birds, nightingales to be precise, flew across walls, streets, and sidewalks. They pecked and clawed at the shadows, but we still weren't winning. The thing was drawing on the spiritual pollution of the entire city, shaping it into these shadows to fight for it, drawing it into a fog to smother us. The only limit to its strength was how much of that power it could control at once, and it didn't seem to have reached its limit yet.

It was after I finished the second incantation that I had a sudden insight. I realized that the Felix Fauoni had been contending with the creature ever since they arrived. The way in which they interrupt the normal way of things were specifically aimed at the kinds of corruptive emotional, social, and psychological forces and activities which the Man of the Crowds feeds upon. I also realized what it might be vulnerable against.

I then did something unbelievably stupid. I advanced on the creature, raised a small can of anti-vamp spray (I carry sprays for all the major nasties), and reminded myself that it was a standard weapon issued to anyone who worked at or with the agency. 

"My name is Jack Murray Underhill," I said. "And as a consultant to a special division of the FBI I command you to cease."

The Man of the Crowd hurled Father against a light pole, and turned to look at me with hatred and fear in his eyes. It hurtled toward me and I let it get a taste of the spray. Then the thing that had so far seemed immune to everything I and the Felix Fauoni had thrown at it shrieked as its flesh boiled. I turned to where it had crashed into a garbage can.

"I have been registered as a chaplain by the State of California," I said as I sprayed him again. "In the name of the Church and the Triune God Whom it serves, I rebuke you." I sprayed him again. "By my own professional integrity and in the name of the Reynolds family and all my clients, I rebuke you!"

The horrid little man screamed again before his skin tore open like rotted paper and out came an explosion of dust and gnats.

"No," said Jocelyn. "There will be no more 'next times.'"

The pink perfume turned to fire and with a gesture she sent it hurtling up to catch each of the little insects. I swear they all had little screams of their own as she burned them. Then the color started to return to the area, although no one seemed to question the enormous blot of ash or the gathering of oddly dressed, heavily panting people. Jocelyn went to Helen, who was still curled up in a ball, and after a few minutes she was able to coax the girl to her feet.

That was the end of the trouble, but there are still some things to sort out. I'll finish this entry tomorrow.

* * * * *

I just got off the phone with my client. According to that friend I contacted a few days ago, the artifact (a carving of an odd, elephantine creature that looks like it came out of Africa) is actually the work of an artist from Maine. In fact, the town he lived in is one which the Felix Fauoni is confirmed to have visited, and they did just before his career took off. When I told him my suspicions, my client confirmed that he had in fact met Jocelyn once upon a time, and that he had in fact become enamored with her just as I had become with Cynthia. He had sent me to steal something that was rightfully hers in the hopes that she would come see him in order to reclaim it. It's almost sweet except for how he tried to make me party his crime. He apologized for the deception and agreed to pay me for my time anyway.

In other news, the girl agreed to go with Jocelyn and I agreed not to tell anyone. If the Agency finds out about this they won't be happy, but I suspect they won't put too much effort into getting her back. It's possible her father will be blamed for her disappearance, which is something that I am not particularly upset about. According to Cynthia he's one uniquely unpleasant fellow.

I'll be sure to send as much data as I can to the Agency about the Man of the Crowd. As far as I can tell, his silver bullet seems to be civilized authority. What I mean by that is that you have to invoke powers residing in that same system from which he draws strength. He feeds upon the corruption and vice unique to highly civilized, urban life, so I drew upon the authority of law, the Church, and the family.

Oh, yeah. I might be seeing some more of Cynthia. Most members of Felix Fauoni go off on their own when they get old enough, which is why most of the members are so young. She's not quite leaving yet, but she is taking time off every few months, starting next week. She's agreed to help me with a grimoire containing summonings and other spells incorporating music. I'm only including this fact because I can add her to that list of friends I sometimes call for favors or expertise. That's totally it.

Case 15: Entry 4

Today I went to meet with the fortune teller. She is one of the oldest members of Felix Fauoni (assuming that their appearances can be trusted) and unlike the rest of them she rarely goes out into the public. Instead she meets her clients in her trailer, which is currently parked on the outskirts of the city. When I met her I saw that it was cluttered with in equal parts with supernatural and mundane paraphernalia. Bags of chips, tourist photos, and magazines sat next to jars of incense, totems, books of arcane lore, and amulets the likes of which most museum curators would kill for. Feeling that hiding my purpose would futile, I told the woman (as it turns out, her name is Jocelyn) that I was a supernatural consultant whose current job involved investigating them. She agreed to speak with me and to permit the conversation to be recorded. The following is my transcript.

Jocelyn: You have told me something of your ways, so let me tell you something of mine. My people believe in fair trade; we do not take without giving something in return. Therefore, I propose an exhange of knowledge. One question paid for with another. As my guest, you may go first. Is this agreeable to you?

Me: Sure. Kids have been known vanish while you're around. Did you or any of your companions kill them?

Jocelyn: *smirk* No. You bear the faint mark of a Lord of the Wilds. What is his name?

Me: I hate you.

Jocelyn: Are you going to play or not?

Me: Fine. *no, I'm not going to write it down* What exactly is Felix Fauoni?
Jocelyn: That's a broad question. But I demanded a heavy price last round so I'll try to answer it fairly. We are artists, just as we seem. We each have at least two talents, one mundane and one arcane, and in our arts they are united. We wander from place to place taking what each city has to give and in return we give it our art. We are interlopers meddling with the established patterns by introducing wisdom, power, and wonder. For what purpose have you been hired? Is it to do my family harm?
Me: Technically that's two questions, but I'll let it slide. I was hired to recover a stolen artifact from you, but beyond that I have no reason to hurt you or yours. Did you cause, intentionally or otherwise, the children to go missing?
Jocelyn: Yes. When talented children cry out for help, we hear them, and, when necessary, we take them. Sometimes the parents are a danger to them and sometimes their power is too great for them to be safe apart from us, but whatever the case we do what we must to protect the children. Most of us were those children, once upon a time. Where does the turquoise dandy reside?
Me: The third house on Chestnut Avenue. Hey. Hold on. What did that mean and why did I answer like that? Wait a second, that's not my question. Pretend I didn't ask that. Okay, real question now. I'm kind of obsessed with Cynthia. Is that really just a crush or is she part succubus or siren or something?
Jocelyn: Cynthia is just as human as the rest of us. What you're experiencing is part of our talent, part of how we interrupt the established patterns. I suppose if you must think of her in terms of some creature, you must imagine that she is a muse. Your infatuation may grow to be dangerous, but it is intended to inspire or to drive our fouler things rather than to ensnare you as prey. Unless you like being prey. How did you become bound to the Lord of the Wilds?
Me: I tried to save a kid from a werewolf curse, and after finding several things that didn't work I tried to bind my spirit to his to drive the wolf our directly. Apparently the ritual also served as a sort of open invitation for anything to help and it took me up on the request. I think we're done for now. You've given me enough, and I'd rather not spill any more secrets.
Jocelyn: Of course, but first let me read your fortune. I think we would both find the experience enlightening.

The recording breaks down into static there. All I can remember between then and the moment I left is...well, nothing. I'm pretty sure all the memories are there, but they're out of my reach like a word on the tip of the tongue. A few times between then and now I saw something that reminded me of the lost time, but each time the flash of recollection vanished a second later. In any case, everything Jocelyn told me seems to fit with the data I've collected. There's even something I'd overlooked before in the agency's files about the leadership of the Felix Fauoni that fits just perfectly with my experience of her and the rest of them. According to it the caravans (or whatever you want to call them) are always led by a Mother, a Father, and an Aunt or Uncle. If that's true, I believe Jocelyn is the Mother, the man who only wanders the city is the Father, and the man who plays games is the Uncle. It's all becoming clearer, and it's all making me more uneasy. I think I'll call up another friend. My second client, Josh Devereaux, is a history major and I'd like him to take a look at something.

Oh, and I found my notes on the Man of the Crowd. There's not much, but there is a theory from an agency analyst from way back when. He believed that the man (I really need to find a proper name for it) is a sort of manifestation of or perhaps a parasite that feeds on spiritual pollution. Humans think and behave differently when crammed together as we are in large cities. According to the analyst, the particular forms of crime, social ambition, exploitation, and other vices and negative emotions that exist in cities create a mystical imprint or smog, and this thing thrives on it. There's no mention of how to kill it.

If the Felix Fauoni is here to protect a child, then I want to know who that child is. Even if I take it for granted that Jocelyn told me the truth and that she knows when it's necessary to take a child away, there is still the Man of the Crowd. I don't think it's a coincidence that I found such a rare creature here. Assuming that's what I found. I haven't exactly done a thorough examination, but the photograph lines up with the lore. In any event, it stands to reason that if the Felix Fauoni come to cities in because they hear children calling to them, there might be other things that can hear those calls.

Case 15: Entry 3

I've heard back from my contact. Apparently the group I've been investigating in called Felix Fauoni, and they've been in the peripheral vision of the agency almost as long as it's existed. The information he got pretty much lines up with the file my client sent me; their appearance tends to coincide with a rise in possible supernatural activity, they have often been accused of thefts, and there's always plenty of unclassifiable weirdness. There is one thing (apart from the name) the agency data had that wasn't in my client's file. Out of sixteen documented and confirmed appearances of the Felix Fauoni, eleven coincided with the disappearances of children. I don't know what the statistics are for missing children, but I have a feeling that's significant.

A tour of the city revealed more anomalies. I found evidence of heightened supernatural activity, but most of that was around places or things that already have a reputation in local folklore and history. According to the news a man turned himself in last night for a murder committed over a decade ago, a murder for which another man was sent to prison. I also passed by three different car crashes as I made my rounds, and just an hour ago I saw a woman being talked out of suicide by some random bystander. She was planning to jump off a cliff over by the ocean, and when the guy started talking to her I thought she was just leaning over to see the water and he was just some crazy eccentric. The dialogue and everything was so like something out of a cheesy holiday movie that I would have laughed if not for the fact that there really was a life on the line.

Oh, and the dogs are all acting crazy. Not aggressive or scared like normal omen type stuff, just..crazy. Jumping up and down. Chasing things that aren't there. I think I saw a stray dog rolling down the sidewalk. It was rolling like an oddly shaped barrel when it came into my view, and it was rolling the same way when it left it.

On the upside, I know the name of the blue-haired girl. She's Cynthia, and I bought two of her and her group's CDs today, and I keep just saying her name and giggling...And I got no useful information out of that encounter. Maybe she's a siren. That would fit better than succubus. I could see her in a slightly less human body luring sailors onto the rocks and I really need to think about something else because the thought of that girl happily luring men to their deaths should really inspire very different feelings from this. But at least there aren't any signs of dark energy around her. But there are the car crashes from today and the missing children from those other times.

Why does nothing about this case make sense??

One last thing. I saw someone--an older man in expensive but worn clothes--today who...just creeped me out. I tried to follow him but that didn't last long. I got a picture and the coloring and the runes both pretty much screamed malevolence. He didn't look that unusual, but he reminded me of some unknown thing. When I got back to my motel I found what I was looking for. There's a creature that appears a handful of times in stories and folktales throughout history, the most prominent appearance being in a short story by Edgar Allan Poe entitled The Man of the Crowd. There isn't much known about it, but we know that it likes big crowds and big cities. And we know that it's dangerous. I believe I have some notes from an old analyst somewhere around here. More on that when I find out more.

Anyway, just sitting around observing has gotten me as far as it can. Tomorrow I visit the fortune teller.

Case 15: Entry 2

I've been in Monterey observing the nomads and keeping an eye out for supernatural phenomenon for three days now. It seems that there are twenty-four members of the caravan, most of whom belong to some smaller social cluster. There are eight who mostly stick to musical performances, five magicians, five more who sold handmade jewelry and other such items, three artists (yes, I know they're all technically "artists", but you know what I mean), one who plays games ranging from chess to Magic: the Gathering, one who tells fortunes, and one who seems only to wander the city. He looks perfectly nonchalant, but every time I observe this last member I get the feeling that he is carefully watching everyone and everything. Demographically speaking there's relatively even mix of genders and races, but when it comes to age there's a definite slant toward youth. I'd say there's only six or seven members that look over thirty, and a few of the younger ones look like they might even be preteens. The lore on nomads does include some beings that are immortal or which regain lost youth by feeding on others. On the other hand, life as a street performer probably gets harder with old age.

Looking at the nomads from a less clinical and on a more individual perspective (which is the kind of perspective that you can't do without in this work), there are a few other details to note. For starters, the appearance of each one is somehow edgy. It's hard to explain because they don't really have a consistent style, but all of them stand out. Some are gothic, some look like hipsters, some dress like they're from different decades, and others seem to follow some fashion which is either entirely their own or which I simply haven't heard of. I don't really know that much about fashion, so I have no idea how likely either possibility is. I also noticed that they seem to have complementary roles. A few members struck me as mildly autistic, and these ones usually were with two specific people: one who helped them if something or someone gave them trouble and one highly sociable member who handled the public. Not only that, but I've noticed that many of them complement each other on an artistic level. When it comes to the musicians that's to be expected, but it also applies to the vendors, the painters, and even the player. Certain motifs (so far I've noticed the nightingale, the fool, the frog, the coyote, and the cherry blossom, but I'm sure there are others) tend to appear in their drawings, and sometimes those images even seem to fit together like pieces in a puzzle as if a coyote in one painting were chasing a nightingale in another. Not to mention that whenever I observe them I get the feeling that they're...in on some big joke or something.

Since the werewolf incident, I decided to upgrade my equipment. Based on some notes from the agency's archive I was able to cobble together a camera that measures arcane energy. Sort of. When it comes to the normal physical process it just takes and immediately prints out a black and white image, but the arcane mechanisms will add color based on the presence of supernatural energy so that the more mojo something has the more vivid the color. Also, the frame of the picture is lined with runes that only become visible if they get a jolt from the camera. Of course, I still suck at reading runes so most of what I've gotten with the nomads has been that they're magical. There aren't any glaringly obvious signs that they're evil, but that could just mean my equipment sucks. Or that I can't read it properly.

Mining information from local news reports, social media, and the police scanner will take some more time and I'm still waiting on my contact at the agency, but...well there is something else worth mentioning. The musical performers includes a girl in her late teens or early twenties. She has blue hair, a green scarf, and a hippogriff tattoo on her left inner wrist. She's a singer and a dancer. And I can't get her out of my head. It's actually kind of scary, not to mention embarrassing. I mean, I've had crushes before, but they were never like this. This is...manic. I keep catching myself staring at surveillance pictures of her, and I can't get any of her songs out of my head. Even the ones that aren't in English. I've been considering the possibility that she's a succubus, but this is the only thing that points in that direction. I didn't want to mention it, but I figure it would unprofessional not to include a potentially important detail just because I'm embarrassed by it.

Anyway, I need to go for a walk. I've been finding it difficult to sit still.