Chesmont

Part one: The Notes

         My name is Sean Doyle, I'm writing this because I feel like I don't have much time left. This notes will cover my time in the English town of Chesmont, and my investigation of the Cult of Haraloth, it will also cover my time with Detective Arthur Crawford, and the other people that I met while my time at Chesmont. The current year is 1964, it's been 28 years since the events at Chesmont, but I still can't get them out of my head. This notes I hope that it may end up in the hands of Francis Wayland Thurston. If you're reading this. We've talked once and I don't expect you to remember me but, my grandfather knew your great uncle and they worked together, and knowing their type of work, and your fathers involvement that you might know about, I was hoping that you could take care of this notes. 

         My story at Chesmont begins in the city of London, England, 1935. I was working as a private investigator at that time. One day, two men dressed in blacked walked into my office, one stayed by the door, and the other one walked up to my desk, where I was standing. The men that walked up to me had dirty teeth, pale skin, and long hair, and he had to different eye color. Without saying a word he handed me a letter, than him and the man by the door, left my office. I was confused but curious to what the letter could say, so I opened it. The note stated

                                 "Dear Mr.Doyle

I've heard many things about you, and if your reputation is true, than you impress me very much. So I have a job I would like you to do. Two weeks ago my brother discovered a town named Chesmont, on a small island a few miles from our land, and he told me stories of a group of people, a "cult" you could call it. That talked about golds and a statue that has a treasure. And my family they are of wealth, but we collect a lot. And that statue they talked of, might just be one that we've been looking for. I am offering you 800 pounds for you to locate that statue. I know a man named Frank that works at the docks in Plymouth, he will know where to take you. And to find me, don't worry about it I know people that will find you. Stay safe Mr.Doyle. If I were you bring something to defend yourself.

Best Regards

Alderton family"

        Like I said at that time I was low on money and I couldn't reject a job for 800 pounds. So that night I packed my things and set my way to Plymouth. The next morning I met Frank, he looked old, long grey hair, broken teeth, and a heavy Scottish accent. After meeting him we would start our sail to Chesmont.