It's April 1865 and the Civil War has come to a screeching halt. The armies of the North and South have laid down their weapons since an ancient spirit of the Earth took back the power of gunpowder. This is an alternate history of America's bloodiest days, and the desperate fight against the legions of darkness and the coming of Armageddon.

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Sverre Roald Ståle, Collected Letters and Papers.
LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

Dearest Ásta,

Captain North, a man for whom I have a considerable respect, has seen fit to recruit me as a deputy to the office of the U.S. Marshal. It is both an honour and a privilege, that I hope to live up to. I am, as you know, not a fighting man, and never have been a soldier. However I hope my particular expertise will be helpful in the days to come.

We set out from St. Louis tomorrow morning. Accompanying us is Father Joseph Garrick of Christ Church Cathedral. Father Joseph is an avid scholar of folklore, and while conversation with Captain North and Sergeant Joubért is both delightful and edifying, I am pleased that we shall be including another man of learning in our posse. His liturgical knowledge may also be invaluable in maters regarding anything we may meet. I look forward to discussing the Paradigm shift with him in greater detail.

I can not say with honesty that I am unafraid of what we may face once we leave the city. Captain North speaks of cracks in the veneer through which our darkest nightmares might come, and, if all he says is true, this Father Dorn will be a terrible adversary. Still I can not quell that feeling of boyish delight. You know how often I have longed for this sort of adventure. Perhaps this is what drew me to America in the first place. Perhaps I am running towards something after all and not entirely away.

I would you were here.

Carus
Sverre

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THE TILLINGHAST INCIDENT, EXETER RHODE ISLAND
Notes from story told me by Sgt, Hunt Rhodes, supported by official publication The Providence Journal

Late 1700s Sarah Tillinghast, Exeter Rhode Island, died of illness unknown. The nights following her death younger brother Joseph complained he was visited by his sister, who sat with him as he slept. Shortly after Joseph too succumbed to a similar illness. One by one two other of the Tillinghast children also fell ill, also complaining they were visited by their dead sister. On advice from the parish priest Sarah's body exhumed and found to be as fresh as the day she was buried.

The heart was burned, the ashes mixed with holy water, and consumed by ill family members who quickly regained their.

While the destruction of the heart is a common method for destroying Vampir, this is the only record of this exact remedy I have encountered. Many accounts tell that the consumption of vampir flesh may actually lead to death if not undeath. (See Prussian soldier's account) Perhaps the holy water has significant in this case.

Include notes on undeath and significance of faith from Cpt. North.

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LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
UNADDRESSED

My most precious Ásta,

I can not, nor will not ever send this letter. I would that you shall never ever see it, for the things I write are not for your gentle heart to bear. Yet I must write the things which I have seen and done. And so, knowing you will never read these words, and never be troubled by these things, I write to myself in your name.

I have finally come face to face with a real Vampir.

In the town of Epiphany

The horrible thing we have seen

My dearest love, today, God help me, I helped to mutilate the corpses of three innocent people. One my friend. This was done as a precaution against further evil, but the act itself will not leave my conscience. Captain North hired me as an expert and advisor. But the truth is I know nothing for certain about these creatures. Only legend and common lore, and have no way to know what is true and what is only superstition. I can not know for certain if what was done was necessary, or in vein. It is possible we have committed this horrible act, on my word as a scholar, to no purpose at all.

When I was a boy, my father took me to the barn to see the slaughter of the Christmas pig for the first time. I wanted so much to be brave, but when it came to it I could not stand the sight. I ran crying from the barn and hid behind the smokehouse until my mother came to find me. I remember how ashamed I was. Toralv was only a year older but he never wept and Helmar was old enough already to help with the work. Neither had ever run.

Captain North and Sergeant Joubért put me in mind of my brothers, and I would not let them, nor any of my companions down. I am a grown man now, a farmer's son, not some pale Oslo banker. I can bleed a pig, or put down a sickly calf or sheep. And after what I have seen in the hospital tent of war I thought myself well steeled for anything we might encounter. But this is far different than anything I could imagine and there is nothing that might have prepared us for it.

A Yankee soldier in the field hospital in Virginia told me once he was afraid that the loss of his leg meant he could not be called at judgment. His priest had told him the body must be buried intact. If this is true than I have done a terrible thing, mutilating not only the bodies of innocent people but also a priest, to no purpose.

But why should it be so? Is not the body merely flesh? Why should the mutilation of an already dead corpse be any different that the butchery of a pig. Surely God has no need of mortal flesh. In parts of the country, I know, shepherds are often buried with a lock of wool so that they might be recognized at the judgment and excused all the times they were absent from mass while tending their flocks. But surely if God is truly watching over us he does not need a lock of wool, or even an arm or a leg, nor, help us all, a heart, to know the man. And if he is not watching than surely it does not matter anyway.

It is at times like this I see the importance of the confessor. Not for spiritual absolution, but for mortal solace. I understand the hours you spent with Father Bjørnsen after Nils' death. I do wish I could talk with Father Joseph of these things, as a friend if not a councilor. I have lost more than a comrade today, more than a colleague. A good man and a good friend.

God help us all.

Sverre

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NOTES: FOR NARRATIVE ON THE SUPERNATURAL'S RELATION TO HUMANITY IN THE NEW PARADIGM: THE VAMPIRE
Firsthand Account, Epiphany Illinois.

The Vampir encountered in Epiphany Illinois was no the beast described in previous accounts. Neither was it human, but truly demonic "other".

It appears as a human man, but for elongated eye teeth, like a wolf or big cat. Clearly cognitive, capable of lucid conversation. Physical attributes unknown. Specimen was caged, and made no attempt to break free. Capable of bending men's will, even without physical or visual contact to the point of complete realignment of desire and fealty.

Religious artifacts had no visible effect. No perceived reaction to physical pain. Only subdued…

(Here a page of notes is missing.)

Removal of head and heart seems effective.

Axe to break ribs. Hunting knife for excordification. Fire must be hot. Recommend future exsanguination of heart for burning. Avoid physical contact with fluids. Remove head first.

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INCLUDED IN NOTES

Sketches of Vampir.




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EXSTRACT FROM ARTICLE: Full article submitted to Beadle and Co. New York

…It is true after the paradigm shift those things once thought lost, or merely fantastical have begun again to have power in the world. This author has seen with his own eyes a miracle of healing performed by a medicine woman of the Cheyenne people. The man she tended had been struck by a bolt that pierced him through. After the shaft's removal, she spoke words in her language, and, dear reader, this author felt the wound close under his very hand until there was nothing remaining but the mark of violence long past. Similar miracles have been claimed across the territories, performed both by the savage and Christian…

Sverre Roald Ståle
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Session: Last Day in the Big City - Saturday, Oct 26 2013 from 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM
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Of Mice and Trees
(I walked with Casey back to the hotel. I gestured for silence, when he would have spoken. The bellman opened the glass doors, grumbling under his breath. I saw the tree as we want in, and felt called to it. I looked at it, trying to live and grow in a place not meant for it. I touched its trunk, and could feel the life pulsing inside.)

<I have felt like you, Sister Tree. The white men, thinking to protect you, have planted you away from the air, rain, and sunlight that you need to grow. Because of this kindness, you are not like the other Tree Siblings outside. You are protected from the elements, and you do not thirst. You do not have to fight for sunlight. Yet, you are still a tree. Your roots dig deep into the soil you have been placed in, and push the limits of this box. Your limbs stretch upward toward the open air, and your leaves tremble in the imagined breeze. >

(I turned to look at Casey. I am still trying to sort through what happened today, and it is needful that he understand as well.)

<I remember my spirits, holding me back from returning to our camp. They told me that I must stay away, because it was needful. The next morning, they allowed me to return. When I saw our family, I felt Willow and Mouse inside me. Willow is the holder of magic, healing, and dreams. She wrapped me in her branches, and held me safe, away from the memories, and Mouse, patient Mouse, moved my body in what needed to be done, to survive, and to protect me. While they were with me, I could hear and see you, but my words and my thoughts were not wholly my own. I could not remember your Father's teaching us his words. I could not remember the stories he told about his world, so everything was strange, and frightening to me. Willow and Mouse tried to keep me safe, and protected from the world, like this tree.>

<Like this tree, though, I was reaching, stretching and growing. Willow and Mouse could not protect me any longer. When I awoke in the store, I was alone in my body. I was able to remember your father, and what he taught us. I am whole again. My thoughts are my own, as well, and I know what must be done.>

<May your journey be easier, Sister Tree.>
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Sverre Roald Ståle, Collected Letters and Papers
ABSTRACT: Full article submitted to Beadle and Co. New York

For many in America, either Federalist or Confederate, the day the guns stopped the world changed forever. The enforced peace tempered by a vast uncertainty. An uncanny something or "other" looming on the horizon. But for some the world did not change at all. For these people the shadows that walk the streets of Washington at night have always been real, if only in stories. And in the great American melting pot, this magnificent tumultuous country made from so many disparate parts these stories and these ways have come together to make something new and unique…

-Sverre Roald Ståle
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LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

Ásta,

We are arrived in St. Louis and the sense of being out "West" is notable. I can not describe it. Perhaps it is the expanse of sky, perhaps it is only my own perception coloured by the knowledge of where we are and where we are going. Finally I have been introduced to our other traveling companions, the native guide and his cousin. It seems they are Cheyenne, from much further west. I wish I could ask about their stories and customs, but it seems that the woman Nehe'e, is not familiar with English. Indeed she seems unfamiliar with much of her surroundings, and cleaves to her cousin like a frightened child. I can not blame her, it must be very different here from her home on the plains, and myself a rather startling sight even to my countrymen, with my height and my red hair. Perhaps in time she will come to be more trusting and I may learn more.

Mr. Whitman seems to have come by some accident. I believe it has to do with the little man he claims to have seen, and who seems to have followed him from Washington. I am, I freely admit, fascinated by this creature, who seems to be to bear all the hallmarks of a Kobold or similar being. Captain North and Sergeant Joubért believe he has simply been seeing things, or making up tales. It confounds me how soldiers who openly claim to have fought Vampir, a man, who rumor has it, has performed magics, can be so closed minded about the thought of fairy. To me it makes perfect sense, though I have not seen this thing with my own eyes, to trust Mr. Whitman's account. We certainly have no proof that he is lying, apart from the improbability of the situation and the improbably is fast becoming merely surprising in these times. Now that he has met with an accident seemingly related to his Hödekin it seems only prudent to pursue a line of enquiry.

As a boy in Rakkestad, my grandmother would tell me stories of trolls and Huldra and witches. I would daydream in the fields, or go off into the woods and hope and hope I would see a fairy, or kobold, I would even wish I was kidnapped by trolls so I could outwit them and escape and have a tale of my own to tell. When I grew up I took those stories for fantasies, but still I made them the object of my study. Now, it seems the whole world has come back around again. The stories held truth after all and it is as if I am that little boy in the forest again. I must admit, I am almost as excited as that boy might have been, though now there is the bitter edge of caution. Although I still would see a fairy, I no longer desire to be kidnapped by trolls. Nor eaten by Vampir.

I do hope you are safe,

Carus
Sverre
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NOTES: THE PUCK, EXISTANCE IN THE NEW WORLD AND RELATION TO THE EUROPEAN KOBOLD
Credit to Father Joseph Garek of St. Louis Illinios.

The Puck is a type of English fae. Seelie, seemingly benign, if fickle.

He exhibits magpie nature. It seems the Puck in particular enjoys finery. An attempt to mimic human social hierarchy? His dress and manner can not be native to him. Some accounts of Kobold exhibiting similar tendencies towards human dress and affectations but not to such an extreme. This type of "other" seem to have a desire for fine things with no concept of real value.

They do not seem negatively effected by the name of the lord. Or unable to enter a church. Even befriending members of the clergy. Is this a function of their Seelie nature? If so does the power of the church have a universal effect on the Unseelie? Is this a function of belief or somehow fundamental? How might this effect creatures of the New World, unbaptized to the faith? Is it possible that the "other" grown up alongside European religion are somehow connected to it while savage or foreign "other" are not. A function of culture, place or fundamental truth?

What is the "other"? Old and underlying or new? Born of man's fears and stories or the source of them? Is it possible we are the authors of our

Some accounts tell of Puck aligning themselves to a particular human, or town. He serves the man in small tasks or even fantastic gifts. Again similar to the Kobold. It is possible he may even align himself in service to a family over several generations. See Heinzelmann, Hödekin.

Indeed there seem to be several strong similarities between the Puck and European Kobold. Which seems to support the theory that types of "other" are in fact a universal body, varied only by national temperament.

The term Puck itself seems to be derived from the Olde English. Pixie Puca, itself with roots in the Norse Puki or Puk. Could the Puck have originally arrived in England with the Dane? Kobold itself is derived from the Greek Kobalos and the houses of Rome were blessed with Lares and Penates. Are these the same beings which have been with us throughout the ages.

It is possible specific "others" might emigrate along with their parent cultures. This would account for the presence of European and English "other" in the New World.

This bears more study and may have some bearing on the existence and temperament of the American Vampire.

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INCLUDED IN NOTES

Hand drawing of a Puck, Artist: Father Joseph Garek



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SHORTHAND NOTE ON AMERICAN FOLK REMEDY

gls wtr pss X

. lrd gd lk pn ye opn yrslf ` hs hly prs nm f s hg hl ( mn

srkpl wtr emt gls flr

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LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

Beloved Ásta,

Today Captain North performed a ritual he says he was taught by his grandmother. Seeming the woman who taught him everything he knows about magics. He passed a glass of water over Mr. Whitman's sleeping body, invoking the name of the trinity then emptied the glass on the floor. The man is not outwardly religious, he even balks at entering a church and conversing with men of the cloth. A nervousness I have marked in a number of soldiers. And yet after he finished his incantation, it seemed to me that Jake Whitman breathed easier.

I have continued to think on the question of faith in regards to the "other". There is empirical proof that the medicine rituals of the savage have strength and merit in the new Paradigm, as does the holy word of the church. Perhaps these are words of hypocrisy. But it seems that the faith of the man is more important that the religion he holds or the form it takes. That there is perhaps a power within the human soul itself. Perhaps the way it is expressed merely gives it a form.

You would argue with me. You would clasp my hand so earnestly and tell me of the lessons you learned from Father Bjørnsen at mass. My mother told me I was only asking for trouble marrying a Roman. What must your mother have said of me, a scholar, a dissenter, practically an agnostic I can only imagine. I did not care. Nor do I. I would you were here now to scold me and teach me patience.

I see you, often, clasping your beads. Fallen asleep in your chair after the doctors had gone. Doctors who could do nothing. Had I joined you in prayer would it have made any difference? God himself knows my heart and soul were as desperate as yours, that all my thoughts pleaded for a miracle, but I could not bring myself to say the words. Were the words important? The savage loves her child as well as any Christian woman but the words she speaks to her god are different. Is she wrong? Or were we? Or does it matter as long as the faith is sure? Do I just not have enough faith? Is it possible that I am to blame after all? Or would it have made no difference?

I wish I could speak to you. Or even that I had the courage to send these letters. Still I write them. Perhaps some day you will read them and smile again and chide me that I think too much.

I miss you. I miss both of you.

Carus
Sverre

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NOTES: FOR NARRATIVE ON THE SUPERNATURAL'S RELATION TO HUMANITY IN THE NEW PARADIGM: THE VAMPIRE

The German Vampire The American Vampire. Vampir Americanus. Is it appropriate to use taxonomy in these cases?

According to accounts the American Vampire exhibits control through an emotional compromise. It seems the weak willed are particularly susceptible to him. Even in the state of undeath the strength of will of the individual, his faith and superstitions, seem to influence him. It seems that to the Vampir faith is a weakness. Why is it that the simple man with honest faith should be more burdened by his undeath, more susceptible to attack and defenseless against the word of the church? Is this a result of guilt? A self hate the religious man imposes on himself for his undead state that makes him susceptible to the word and image of the cross? Is guilt itself a moral center in the soul?

Being dead the Vampir itself can not procreate. Accounts tell of his power to raise those he kills as beings like himself. This seems to agree with numerous Germanic and Slavic accounts of this creature. Again refer to notes on the Tillinghast incident. It is possible this is one of the first true accounts of the American Vampire? If so the "other" has been with us in the New World since long before the guns stopped.

The fae seem to obey their own set of moral codes in parallel and sometimes opposition to the Christian. The Vampir however is unique so far in our study as he is a man turned to undeath, rather than a non human sprite. So human morality seem to have a more significant impact on him, depending on his own personal belief. Is there a right answer to these questions or is it only subjective?

I must remember never again to take my notes while drinking with Joubért and North.

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Notes to self
Acquire iron-any form
Original publication on the Tillinghast incident

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Session: Mound City Bound - Saturday, Oct 12 2013 from 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM
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Lost
I follow Tave. One foot after the other. Looking only at his heels, as he leads me through this place. My mind cannot make sense of the things around me. The things I see that make no sense. The things I hear that hurt my ears. I am bruised and battered from all sides. Even from below. This wooden thing that runs over the ground sounds like the stones of a cliff falling into a ravine. It bites where I sit.
The people mill around each other, pressing in on one another, like a great stampede. Their voices rise and fall in an avalanche of meaningless noise. I try to listen for the word-sounds Tave has taught me, but they all whirl away from me, and disappear.

Another pile of stones, that we must go inside. Aaah, my mind is gone, for if I were not mad, i would not see trees and flowers growing inside of this cave. Tave leads me to a small place, where I can sit, and be still. He hands me dried meat, but I just look at it.

There is a noise like breaking branches, and the man, the new one from the train, walks through the wood. He makes noise sounds at me, and does not see that I do not understand.

No! I do not want to leave this quiet place! I must talk with my spirits, and ask them to help me understand why I am here, and what I must do to escape it! I cannot hear them, and Tave beckons. I bow my head and follow.

... another pile of rocks, and more people and noise and the white men looking at me, and i try and hide from their eyes, but i am without shelter and cannot breathe, because they have used up all the air, and the cave starts to spin, and there are ghost fingers plucking my clothes, and i have to get away before i am buried under all their words and their eyes piercing me, tripping me, and shaking me like a rat... i must run from them. i must hide, before they find me, and rend my skin and break my bones and eat my flesh like they did... before... in my village...

Aaaaiiiiii! Grandmother Turtle, help me!!
Session: Mound City Bound - Saturday, Oct 12 2013 from 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM
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Sverre Roald Ståle, Collected Letters and Papers
LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

My dearest Ásta,

I write this letter with little hope that you might read it, or even with the intention of sending it. I do not even know how it might find you. My last was returned by your sister, unopened, with a note saying that you had returned to Borge.

Perhaps I am writing this to pretend I am not writing only to myself. Or to say the things I find difficult to express in the letters I do send to you. To say that I am sorry. That I might have done anything to change what happened. That I miss you.

After you left I could not stand living in the house anymore. Too many happy memories. You should sell it. I do not want it any more, and after everything that has happened in the world I doubt I will be returning to Oslo any time soon. Coming to America is really only running away. But perhaps it is for the best. A fresh start for the both of us.

Carus,
Sverre

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NEWSPAPER CUTTINGS

Authors wanted. Beadle and Co. New York

Books bought. Olde and new. Caldwell and Sons, Washington

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NOTES: FOR NARRATIVE ON THE SUPERNATURAL'S RELATION TO HUMANITY IN THE NEW PARADIGM

The "other" in relation to man / Perceived moralities.

Sellie Vs. unseelie - inversion or perception? Contextual morality. Received Vs. perceived.

Parallels. Consistent perception? Fundamental humanity vs. the fundamental "other".

Positive influence? Symbiosis?
See, The man and his Kobold.
And yet we encounter the predator. Even the senseless murderer.
See Nøkken, German Vampire

What of the spirit guide? In America and Europe. The Sámi, the Indian. The shaman. Daemon or angel? Possible origin the "other" or originating in man.

A reflection of man in the "other"? Divinity of man?

Beadle will never publish this. Focus on smaller concepts. Olde world resurgence in rural America. The place of the shaman or wood witch. Religious factors. Cultural. The north south divide.

Note - Purchase more ink, paper, new boots, waterproof coat.
Visit law firm in Washington re property in Oslo.

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LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

Dearest Ásta,

I am to be a writer again. A proper scholar that is, no more battlefield accounts or propaganda for the population in New York and Washington. At $35.00 a week I shall have some money to send home, if only I knew where to send it. Your sister has not replied to my letters, so I continue to write these with no hope you will ever read them.

You would love Virginia. It reminds me of the country around Rondane in the summer time, only greener. The people here are more like the people of my childhood in Rakkestad than the men and women in the city of Washington the university back in Oslo. Honest, hard working. Many of their beliefs and stories are similar as well though with their own unique idiosyncrasies of course.

The more I meet people and the more I learn the more I begin to believe there is a fundamental similarity between cultural beliefs. Perhaps it is because the "other" that we represent in our stories and myths is a universal constant simply perceived through different cultures. Is there really any difference between a Draugr and a Vampire other than culture? As the difference between a Swede and a German? Both are men, and yet they hold their own language and history that defines them. Should the "other" be any different? The cosmopolitan nature of the American people seems to highlight their similarities as much as their differences.

How I wish I could talk of these things with you.

The rumour around Washington is that Captain Zadoc North is assembling a team to head into Indian country. Perhaps I should look into this.

Carus,
Sverre

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NEWSPAPER CUTTINGS

WANTED - Skilled trackers, terrain fighters, former military soldiers, hunters, adventurers et al. Apply U.S. Marshal's office 933 Pennsylvania Avenue by April 27, 1865

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LETTER TO AUGUSTA STÅLE
OSLO NORWAY
CARE OF EVA HÅRSTAD

Dearest Ásta,

I am headed west. What with the war an all my entire time in this country has been so far confined to the eastern theatre, in and around Washington and Virginia. The peoples I have met mostly emigrated from Europe, similar in many ways to the people back home. This will be a chance to explore this country is a purer state. The wild west. Indian territory. These are names that conjure the American dream more vividly than any ball room in Baltimore.

It is my usual luck that I had news of this expedition, as everything it seems, second, or even third hand. By the time I made my way to the Pennsylvania Avenue offices I was already too late. However I took in upon myself to follow to St. Louis. It seems the best course of action under the circumstances, if rumours in the coffee houses are to be believed the Captain's expedition has something to do with the Supernatural. Even if this is not the case it will give me a chance to travel across this country as part of my research, and work for Beadle and Co. In the latter case, even should I not find the Captain, the journey will not be wasted.

As it turns out luck finally smiled upon me as Captain North and his associates were on the very train I boarded. In the very came car. Perhaps it is not luck so much as fate. He seemed reluctant at first to take me on, perhaps I have too much the air of the scholar. The American soldier is always quick to underestimate men of learning, though in an age where guns will no longer fire it seems learning may be our only weapon. He is accompanied by Sergeant Gordon Joubert, who seems to have fought with him in the war, and a Mr. Jake Whitman, who has the air of a city man about him. They also seem to be accompanied by two native guides. Though I have not had the chance to make their acquaintance as they have been segregated to the Negro car.

After all that has been said and done by men like Mr. Douglass, and Mr. Lincoln himself this sort of thing continues to surprise me. You would tell me I am only naive, but it seems to me there is little difference between men apart from language and common belief. And there is many a savage who has learned to be an upstanding Christian. Those people native to this country seem to me to be best suited for its occupation. If indeed the creatures of legend an story are stepping out from the shadows to join us in the world might we not expect to see the legends of the Indian or the negro as well? It seems man should put aside his differences in the face of the "other" and pool his resources.

Writing this I realize that I have been thinking of this paradigm shift as occurring only here in America. Of course the "other" has stepped out onto the streets of Oslo, and Stockholm, and into the fields of Rakkestad, and even in Borge. The curfews in Washington seem exotic, but to think of the streets of home as empty and frightened makes the whole thing all very real.

I hope you are keeping safe.

Carus
Sverre
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NOTES: FOR NARRATIVE ON THE SUPERNATURAL'S RELATION TO HUMANITY IN THE NEW PARADIGM

The "Vampire" as encountered by soldiers in the American theatre appears to closely resemble traditional Germanic folk accounts. Though in some respects it seems to resemble the Zombie of the West Indies. (Could this be an American variant? A mix of beliefs and cultures?) Here we do not see the sophisticated predator of Polidori's novel, rather a creature with an almost bestial nature. (Accounts of attacks. Incidents. Etc. Methods. Beheading, heart, fire. See the Tillinghast incident.)

Religion. ie. Is it true that the "other" can be dismissed by the sacrament. There seem to be many tales of such, but there are also stories of the kobold dismissing and even humiliating the priest that attempts an exorcism. There seem to be many conflicting opinions, even within single traditions. Pre-Christian culture in Europe often adopted the church to replace existing traditions. This has muddied the subject of religion in regards to the "other". Through, within Europe at least both iron and silver seem to have some power over the "other", regardless of symbology or faith. See, Fanden, Sidhee fae, the Kobold, the Werewolf. (Must remember to ask Whitman about his visitor.)

First hand accounts seem to indicate that the use of holy symbols or religious incantations do seem to have some effect on the American Vampire, but effects seem to rely on the individual having faith before death. ie the Christian may respond to the sacrament, but the pagan will be unaffected. Presumably he will shun the medicine man, or witchdoctor, as the Christian will the priest or minister. This implies a maintained connection to the beliefs of the man in life. Seemingly contradicting accounts of Vampire's simple bestiality.

(More questions of faith. Innate or received. Faith itself stronger than dogma? How does belief effect the "other" beyond religion?)

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Note to self.
Purchase a proper crossbow in St. Louis
Also linen for bandages and some pure spirits
Session: Last Stop, St. Louis! - Saturday, Oct 05 2013 from 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM
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