The Hermetic Wild West
Turner's Personal Journal
This is the personal journal of Douglas Turner.
March 20th 1870
We are preparing to leave for the Utah territory to seek out Mr. Trombley. I have sought the guidance of Mr. Sorenson as to how to handle the potential of holy wizards. He has suggested that I do not seek out conflict with the Mormon wizards. And, I should not call upon him while in Utah. I fear that my time with him is nearing its end. He is obviously not a human and while he may be divine in nature, is inhumanity makes him uncompromising and unwilling to deal in the shades of grey that permeate the world we live in.
While I do fear for the status of my soul, I do fear that Sorenson could “judge me harshly” for whatever he considers to be a violation of his code of ethics. I have no earthly idea, what he is capable of if he is brought to wrath.
February 16th, 1870
Both my parents and my parens were loving and caring. I would call my apprenticeship rigorous and complete in the ways of the Order as well as on matter both magical and mundane. However, no one at my home covenant was one for religion or matters of the soul. The deep questions of life, existence and post-existence, were never important. As such, I had no groundings in theology or other spiritual matters. I feel that his was likely an oversight or a mistake on their part.
As a result, I have found myself left with a profound desire to be a part of something bigger than myself. In retrospect I feel this was one of the motivators for me to become a Hoplite. And in some ways, joining the ranks of the Hoplites has fulfilled that need. I am a visible part of the larger order. A part of something grand and lasting.
It is likely that this desire is also what drew me towards Mr. Sorenson. He represented both a means to fill the void in my soul as well as the possibility to be involved with something even greater than the order. Now, while he is a creature of the divine, I assume an angel, it is possible that his own motivations are at cross purposes with the Order and my own morals. In addition, since he is an unknowable enigma, it is possible that he is lying about his realm affiliation.
January 12th, 1870
Growing up at Sutter’s Rock, I never had any actual pets. There were, however, animals that called the covenant home. While my earliest memories of these creatures are blurry at best and tinted by nostalgia, there are a few that stand out for me. Being a large plantation style home with working fields nearby, there were always mice and rats along with other types of vermin and pests. These creatures were kept out of the primary residents with simple spells. Out buildings and the surrounding fields and woods were not so fortunate. To help keep them clear of these vermin, there was a small band of feral or nearly feral cats that would hunt and prowl the area.
When I was a boy of no more than 4 or 5, I remember playing with these cats. I gave all of them silly and childish names. The largest and oldest of these cats was a red-eyed albino tomcat. He had been around for longer than I had been alive. In my child’s mind, I suppose I thought he was eternal. He was dubbed Whiskers and he was both enchanting and terrifying. He could sneak up on prey or on myself with ease and there were no other cats that would challenge him.
This was the story I told to my new familiar when I chose her name. In honor of this scary and stealthy tomcat, I have named her Miss Whiskers.
December 27th, 1869
My suspicions have been confirmed by the man himself. Sorenson is neither magus nor man. In fact, if he is to be believed, he is a divine entity. I hesitate to classify him as an angel, but I am hard pressed to think of another term at this time. He also confirmed that he is the gunslinger in black. Likely a separate manifestation with, as he puts it, a different purpose. I dare not speculate too much as to the nature of this other manifestation. But if pressed, I would have to call it, wrath. The avatar that I seem to be dealing with is one more of guidance and counsel.
December 24th, 1869
Tonight is Christmas Eve. I suppose that given the season it is fitting that I should be beset by another vision. This one of a gunfighter, wearing all black and riding a dying horse through the desert. He seemed very familiar and yet alien to me. I have a feeling deep down that I will meet this man should I go to Utah seeking Jamie. And should I meet him, it is likely that I will be staring into the face of death itself. I intend to seek guidance from Grandfather as to how to interpret this vision. He has a great deal more experience in these matters than I do.
My suspicions are confirmed. Grandfather agrees that this is a man I have met before, even if I do not recognize him, and will cross paths with again. This man may be Sorenson. The implications of this possibility are fairly profound. I have placed a great deal of trust and faith in Sorenson. If this man in my vision is indeed Sorenson…..
After my discussions with Grandfather, I am now convinced that Sorenson is not a magus nor is he human. If he is not human, then what is he? And how were our three native covenant-mates see him as an avatar of “The Wolf?” I will be contacting Sorenson shortly to seek clarification.
December 20th, 1869
First contact with the animal has been successful. I must say, she is a magnificent creature. Almost the size of a man, yet she moves without sound. She has had ample opportunity to try to kill me if she wished. I must admit, I am not entirely sure I could have prevented it if that had been her intention. I shall be moving ahead with convincing her to become my familiar. Although, she does display a great reluctance to approach our covenant site at the round lake. It seems that she is aware of the presence of the creature trapped within its icy waters. I will have to remember to ask her what she knows about this creature once we are bound together and better able to communicate more than abstract feelings.
December 19th, 1869
The snows are deep and cold. I have spent the last three days out in the woods seeking this lynx. Two of the tribe’s trackers have helped me locate the den of the lynx they call “Silent Ghost.” My plan is to present it with a deer carcass and other bits of meat to gain its trust. I am hopeful that this will prove to be a fruitful excursion.
December 16th, 1869
My tribemates have alerted me to the existence of a magical lynx that resides deep in the forest. I aim to seek this creature out and take its measure. If all is right between it and I, then I hope to have a new familiar by the time the passes clear.
December 14th, 1869
We have been set upon the task of determining the fate of Jamie Trombley. He was sent into the Utah territory to seek out a collection of individuals who are likely hiding amongst the Mormons. I fear that the he has been taken captive or worse by his quarry.