1822-05-05+-+James'+Journal

Greetings Dear Journal,

The recent events in my life have been quite boisterous for a regular chap like me. To give you and idea of it just today we ended up walking a good half-day in the Irish countryside, only to have an encounter with a passing wagon. It was a simple wagon, carrying nothing but hay as far as I could tell. One of my companions thought it would be a great idea to fabricate some fiction to persuade the wagon driver to quit his job and give of a ride to Naas. A simple, undisturbed walk in the countryside was not sufficient. No, we had to come up with a tail about the plague, and nearly get him to tell the whole island that we should be poached and burned! Anyways, we were particularly blessed, and he was particularly nice to us, and bought our story, including the part about us not being diseased. This was one of the duller days.

It is on the heels of these events that I greet you, and would like to make your acquaintance. There are not many who I could tell these things too. I apologize in advance for the obscurity with which I write. These stories may appear to be out-right fabrications, with people and places that never existed doing thing that never happened. I assure you, however, that when properly read, all the events that I tell you are true.

These last few days have been spent in the village of Maynooth. The bookstore at Maynooth seems like it could be a valuable resource of knowledge that I wouldn't be able to find anywhere else, but right now, and probably for a good while, it will not be safe to return. A manager at the bookstore, Albert, is the leader of a death cult that seems to have quite some power there. Just while we were there we dragged into this ritual ceremony where several dozen people committed suicide (obviously, they are not good Catholics). The ceremony itself was done in a large cave with a sort of cathedral-like appearance. The cave itself is accessible through a long underground corridor from the inside the inn. Just in case I forget, the entrance is on the right side of the inn, from the viewpoint of someone entering.

If a suicidal death cult wasn't enough to unnerve someone, what is even worse is that some of the people who were there, knew who I was. Way out here, in the middle-of-nowhere, there are are people who know me. It was almost as if the universe revolved around me, but in the worst way possible. A slight consolation, however, is that I have not seen any evidence of Valkyrie activity. Ezekiel is with us, and if he is with us, I suspect that they can't be too far away. I should talk to Ezekiel soon about this.