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Mr. Cooper of Cooper's General Store

(His face is somewhat blurry for he would not stand still. At least he let me take his photograph)

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Cooper's General Store

Strawberry, West Elizabeth

1899

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Entry #3

As always a source of great information in any small town I decided to head inside the general store. Cooper's General Store, named so after the gentleman who owns and runs the place, is a charming little shop. Though small in size it boasts a wide variety of goods that help serve the community well. Your basics such as food, liquor, and cigarettes adorn the stocked shelves along with other amenities. Ammunition, horse care products, and even clothing that can be ordered in fitted sizes.

Mr. Cooper (Whose first name eludes me, for he would not say) was an amiable fellow. He seemed to enjoy to chew the fat with his customers, and had several things to say when I asked him about odd occurrences in the area. First and foremost he seemed to focus his conversation mainly on the Mayor. From what I can gather, Mr. Cooper has been in Strawberry for some time before Mayor Timmins came along. He has not throughly enjoyed how his formerly quiet lumber town is now becoming a tourist spot for vacationing New Englanders.

Though he did express how he enjoyed the money they brought with them. After that short spat he then mentioned how he believes Mayor Timmins came here due to tax evasion. I'll have to check with my contacts in the future about any information regarding that. He went on for a little rant discussing how the mayor was changing things too fast, and he was a shady character. He even brought up the topic of the mayor's wife. How she apparently never leaves their house and how Mr. Cooper has never even seen her.

It seems Timmins might be hiding more than a fair share of secrets. Whether they correspond to odd events in the area is yet to be seen. Regardless, after Mr. Cooper's long chat about the mayor he switched topics to what I'm most interested in. He's said that several customers have brought up how the forests surrounding Strawberry have had strange things happening in them for a while, but activity has been more frequent recently. The main points I found to be of value included the following:

1. A man came into the store claiming to have found the remains of a giant up north in the mountains. Cooper dismissed the individual as being crazy

2. Old Tom's Blind has been noted to have strange sounds coming from it at night, though no animals or people have been seen in the area during said occurrences

3. The talk of Indians was brought up many times. Some say they've been practicing pagan witchcraft far to the west by Owanjila

4. The Clerk of the Welcome Center mentioned how unsavory characters have been seen wandering the forests

I thanked Mr. Cooper for his time and participation. I suspect there's more he's hiding, but for now I have several leads to go over...

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Mayor Nicholas Timmins

Strawberry, West Elizabeth

1899

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Arrived in Strawberry

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The Strawberry Welcome Center, (1899)

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Entry #2

After tipping my reinsman and hitching my horse to the post outside, I made my way into the Strawberry "Welcome Center." A quaint name for a quaint building. It serves as sort of an information desk and a place to stay for out of town guests when the Trackers Hotel has no vacancies. At least that's what the clerk told me as he helped guide me to my room on the second floor. I settled in rather fast, and even though the room is gorgeous I wanted to explore the town itself as soon as possible.

Stepping out into the road you immediately get a good feel of it. As I stated before, it's a humble lumbering town transforming into a tourist spot. Many of the newer buildings have ornate architecture with stunning indoor features. The craftsmanship truly shows. As I walked down the main road I encountered the mayor speaking to several of his people from the porch of the general store. His speech was rousing, though the citizens didn't seem affected by it. They must be used to his eccentrics.

I spoke out to the man and he responded soundly and in a polite manner. We shook hands and he introduced himself to me as Nicholas Timmins. He took charge of our little conversation and began speaking of himself and his past in a rather open manner. Timmins is from the east coast, possibly the New York or New Jersey area, and was involved with Princeton University for a time before his departure out west. He mentioned how he's had harsh relations with his family in the past, and particularly seems to hold disdain for his brother. He mentioned having a wife that his family dislikes, though I couldn't tell if she is still around or not.

Very shortly after it began Timmins excused himself, wishing me a great stay in Strawberry, and I found myself intrigued with the man. I get no feel of anything extraordinary from him, but he does have an interesting story. He doesn't seem the sort to be roughing it out in West Elizabeth, and his talk of his past out east seems very peculiar. Why be so open with a stranger yet seem to hold some things back? I'll certainly be keeping tabs on Mr. Timmins during my stay here.

Note: I couldn't quite get a photo of him as of yet, he seemed too busy at the moment. I will attempt later.

Back to the main reason of my visit, I shall wander the streets and visit the local shops for any information pertaining to local oddities. Before my arrival I heard tell of stories of pagan worship to the west of here. Possibly something to do with the natives who roamed this area? Hopefully there's some old newspapers or books for me to peruse.

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(Agent Atlas, 1898)

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Journal Entry #1

Hello to any who may be reading this. My name is Atlas. This is my personal journal of recordings. Let me give some insight as to what is occurring. Regardless of whether you believe in myths and legends, there are things out there that cannot be properly explained. Things passed through generations of oral traditions that many share intimately within their communities. These stories are all unique, and even though some are spoken by those we perceive as loons, or with time older tales may become exaggerated and parts become lost to history there is one thing that binds it all: a starting point. An initial happening that spawned such tales. Are these events merely cases of the human mind spawning fiction, or is there a credibility to them?

Not every fable you hear spoken at the local saloon or written about in the newspaper columns is entirely true, yet they may not be entirely false either. Spirits, specters, witchcraft, creatures of the night, happenings unknown. I intend to debunk what I can. To bring the knowledge of science to these occurrences in order to truly discover whether they are purely folktales, or if there is some accuracy to them. These findings may bewilder the general populace, which is why I'm here. To perform comprehensive research into these anamolous phemomena. To contain, if need be, or to educate and protect.

The reason for all of this, my journal and my journey itself, is because it's my passion and my profession. I work for a new government bureau that operates unbeknownst to the American populace. I can't delve too much into the history of it, as I'm not allowed to disclose any information about it or it's members for safety purposes. They've instructed me to keep this journal though in order to provide recorded detail of cases, and to eventually store them in our files when all is said and done. I've decided to stake my claim here, in the west...

The year is 1899, and the federal government is spreading its control out west. Before this paradise of freedom and sin becomes tamed and urbanized I wish to conduct my research in these territories. West Elizabeth, New Hanover, Ambarino, and even Lemoyne. Tales of the strange tend to fade into the background once civilization digs its heavy societal roots into areas. People fear being ostracized, and lands once known for their queer happenings get destroyed and replaced. This is the west I know and love, and wish to gain insight on. Though New Austin is farther west I'll be avoiding the territory completely. Government activity in Blackwater is high, and the gorgeous landscapes are scarcely populated. A combination which I find to not provide me the best outcomes.

I'm currently in a stage with my horse Odysseus following closely behind. In about an hour I'll be arriving at the small town of Strawberry. A peculiar "tourist-trap" town that originated as one of the many logging settlements that West Elizabeth is known for. I've heard tell from the reinsman that the mayor is an eccentric type. A New Englander, apparently. I'm looking forward to my stay there.