Stories of mythical creatures, both haunting and wonderful, have surrounded tight-knit communities and cultures for millennia. Most of the time, these creatures are nothing more than legends, myths birthed from humanity's insatiable curiosity, but sometimes a sighting or story cannot be easily rationalised. The following is the journal of cryptozoologist, George Porowski, recovered from his home following his death in 1988.
Entry #1, 12/4/1986
Cryptozoology is the study of creatures that may not necessarily exist, creatures of legend and mythology like the elusive Mothman or Bigfoot. It is a field that entails little resolution and most cases I investigate are either easily debunked or just flat out unresolvable. Most sightings that are reported to me are often simple misidentifications of native wildlife or what I tend to dismiss as overactive imaginations, but reports of one particular creature have managed to entice my curiosity from the very beginning of my career. Sightings of men bearing the head of a deer have circulated around this area for as long as I can remember. I have largely ignored this case until recently as I simply could not see much value in investigating it. The whole thing is relatively well-known by the locals and it is widely considered to be nothing more than a myth. However, I have now come to believe that there could be more to it. Sightings are always consistent with each other and, although evidence is rare, those that do have such a commodity provide an enticing case. Recently, a birdwatcher photographed the beast in full detail, there were no signs of tampering and the photo is clear enough that you can decisively see that the encounter was no misidentification. In the photo, The Faun stood upright and displayed oddly human characteristics aside from its head and legs which both resembled that of a regular deer. It appears to stand at about seven feet tall. The creature is common in local folk-lore and has been dubbed "the Faun" by those who have encountered it. This creature has had my attention for some time now, though only now have I decided that I must venture out to see the beast for myself. I don't often take the initiative to go out and research these creatures in person, as most of the time the creature in question is almost certainly mythical in nature, my job lies mostly in the history of these beasts, which is why I feel so uncomfortable about searching for the Faun myself. I am to set out tomorrow morning, I will write again when I have arrived at the campgrounds that mark my destination.
Entry #2, 13/4/1986
This morning, I awoke with an uncharacteristic lack of fatigue, spurred on by an emotion set somewhere in between excitement and a heart-consuming fear. I planned to have left before nine but found myself fumbling about with my camera and gear until well after ten. The volume of equipment I had packed almost exceeded the amount I could carry to my car in one trip, I brought enough food to last me a potential few weeks in the woods, a tent, other miscellaneous camping equipment, and my camera and tripod, which would be my key to catching the Faun in motion. After parking my car as close to the campgrounds as I could, I set off down the forested trail with my bag in tow. The trail was shrouded in coniferous evergreen trees that grew denser as I progressed. The narrow trail didn't remain this way for long, as I quickly came into an opening marked with a sign. The sign simply read "Peakbase Campgrounds" in large bold letters. The opening clearly serves the purpose of a sort of central hub for the numerous trails that lead through the forest to stem from. The ground was flat and clear, aside from the occasional twig and some light leaf litter, so I used this as the location to set my tent for the night. After refamiliarizing myself with the old tent and fumbling around with the poles for a while, I strapped the tent down to the pegs and set off down one of the numerous trails to search for firewood. Down one route, the trees weren't as thick as they appeared on the other tracks and a largish lake could be sighted, glistening peacefully in the sun. This location seemed ideal as a fishing spot but without the proper equipment, I will have to forgo such an activity. Despite this location's undeniable calm, I couldn't help my mind from wandering to the thought of the Faun. There's something about the lake's atmosphere that causes my mind to wander. It's a difficult thought to rationalise, but due to the wide view of the lake's perimeter, this may be where I will first encounter signs of the beast...
Entry #3, 14/4/1986
I spent the majority of today exploring the surrounding area. I hadn't noticed much aside from that which was indicative of the usual nightly disturbances. Despite this, I did manage to make one relatively remarkable discovery. One track that I had explored as the sun set appeared to end abruptly which prompted me to explore beyond the trees that surrounded its end. The great evergreens that surrounded the path behind me were now thick and scattered in unfriendly patterns. I tried my best to stay on what I had assumed was the original path before it was eroded and surrounded by trees over hundreds of years, and eventually found myself in an opening. The opening was small and quaint with trees leaning over top, viewing the centre curiously. Sitting in the middle of the opening, drenched in mystifying sunlight, was a large rectangular stone that stood upright, basking in the sun. Upon the stone were numerous characters and hieroglyphs that perplexed me. I noted these odd etchings in my notebook before noticing a large illustration that was posed as a centrepiece, surrounded by the smaller etchings that somehow caught my attention first. This drawing was of a mountain, highlighted with a singular eye placed in its centre. With this discovery noted and my mind racing with possibilities, I returned to the campsite as the sun had finally fallen below the horizon.
Entry #4, 15/4/1986
I awoke early this morning, delirious with fear and bewilderment. The air outside my tent was cold and I could hear the sounds of a nearby owl, indicating to me that I had woken myself up much earlier than I had anticipated. I had a dream that night, it was an odd dream about space and a great, infinitely huge something. I dreamed of a grand machine, a creature, or maybe something entirely different. It was shaped like a large capsule whose texture I could easily make out despite its mind-boggling size. It was smooth yet jagged, somehow rough and also glossy, and indescribably huge. My mind found it hard to comprehend its size, although I could deduce an abstract imagining of it based on my surroundings. It was strung to the ceiling with massive cables that stretched into the darkness above, the walls were stretched as far out as my eyes could see, but it was not as if I were actually there. It was like I only imagined the machine. Nothing can really describe an experience like this, but there was no way I could get back to sleep with these thoughts in my mind so I decided to go see what else I could find out in the woods, and despite the infinitely stretching darkness, I set off down the same trail that led me to the lake that had originally caught my attention. I walked for some time, in the shadows of the trees that seemed much taller than they actually were. The moon was full and illuminated the ground well despite the time of night and, as is natural of being outdoors at this time of night, I was unbelievably on-edge. It might have been this, combined with the delusions caused by my weariness that were to blame for what I saw, but I'm sure I saw something, whether that something was the beast that I had come to witness, or something else entirely. I certainly saw a figure, tall and thin, shadowed by the darkness of the woods in which it was standing. I caught its gaze and immediately froze, I stared into its eyes in a sort of trance for a few seconds before realising what I was looking at, then I ran. The thought of getting my camera and returning to the location of the encounter never even crossed my mind when I got back to the tent, I just tried my best to get back to sleep.
Entry #5, 17/4/1986
After a day of leisure and an early night, I am ready once again to challenge this mystery. Tonight, I am to search for the beast a second time and with the knowledge that this forest is home to a mysterious monolith, I hope to find more evidence in the lesser-known areas of the forest. After analysing the photo that originally set me on this mission and remembering my previous encounter, I have deduced an approximate location that the beast might call home. I will return to this location in hopes that the beast may return here.
Entry #6, 17/4/1986
The area I explored today is an opening down one of the older trails and I noticed that the track was mostly grown over and it appeared to be unused. The opening was small and appeared to lack much evidence of any activity at all. Despite my relatively rushed conclusion I managed to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a second opening buried deep within the woods, I moved through the tightly packed trees and made my way into the opening. This opening was slightly larger and, in the centre, lay a shrine-like structure with steeply inclined steps placed around a circular platform with a completely flat top; two large spires were placed opposite each other on two sides of the platform. I noticed a small clump of fur lodged on one of the numerous indentations in the spire, after noting this, I was quick to set up my camera on a bipod to hopefully catch the Faun in motion. After anxiously returning to camp to rest up for the night, I noted my findings in my notebook and went to sleep.
Entry #7, 18/4/1986
My excitement drove me to wake early to check the recording, so I set out down the same route as before and made my way towards the shrine. After arriving, I quickly realised with a spot of panic that my bipod had been knocked over, I anxiously viewed the footage to reveal that the camera appeared to have been deliberately removed from behind as if someone were trying to move it, but if someone wanted to stop me from sighting the faun, wouldn't they simply stop the recording? As far-fetched of a concept it might be, I believe I have underestimated the faun's intelligence and perhaps it was the one to remove the camera from the bipod. This would make sense as it is unlikely that such a creature would be familiar enough with this equipment to turn it off. After taking the evidence back to the campsite, I reviewed it once more and realised it had captured audio. It appears to have picked up the sound of a strange song, it is sung in a raspy, low-pitched voice and mostly consists of words completely alien to me. There are, however, some English passages that I can faintly make out. "Hail the Architect's construct" is repeated numerous times and there is frequent mention of the mountain that this campsite is situated below, but it is instead dubbed "Mantle's Gate." Apart from these occasional passages there doesn't seem to be any easily identifiable English in the song. The song itself is repetitive and its rhythm is utterly unknown to me. I am left to wonder who, or what, actually sung this odd song so late in the night. I find it unlikely that the Faun sang the song as it would not make sense for something of that nature to pronounce such human sounds. I must try and locate the person that was here and question them about the song and the Faun. "Mantle's Gate"? What could that mean? Perhaps it is referring to a being, or perhaps a structure? Who could know without investigating this further, but I fear my curiosity has led me to something much more sinister than I had originally imagined...
Entry #8, 19/4/1986
I awakened in the dead of night to the sound of people talking, it sounded as if they were speaking in the same tongue as that song. I quickly left my tent to investigate the noise and was stricken with the sight of the tips of a raging flame peaking curiously over the now grim treetops, lighting the air around it in a dark orange haze. I desperately moved towards the source of the infernal light and once I breached past the thick trunks of the trees, the blaze revealed itself to be a bonfire surrounded by men bearing dark cloaks. The men chanted for the Architect and praised his "Construct" amongst other unfamiliar musings. It wasn't long before, from beyond the great tree trunks, numerous men emerged. The men bared the legs and head of a deer and towered above me and the cloaked men... I finally found it, The Faun. It wasn't long before the cloaked men noticed me and beckoned me to join them in their chant as the Faun watched at the outskirts of the opening. I was hesitant but ultimately decided to join them. I found it strangely easy to chant with them in a tongue that is wholly alien to me... It's as if I was fluent in the language by some sort of holy intervention. I awoke in my tent, with no memory after I joined the cloaked men, however, I have somehow retained the knowledge of their language. After realising this I hastily took out my notebook and attempted to read the musings that I copied down toward the beginning of my expedition.
"May the guardians one day escort us up the hills of the Gate. To witness his gaze would mean to finally live eternal within his clockwork home, the Mantle..."
This paralyzing passage fills me with a great sense of curiosity, such a display of religious devotion to the object referred to as, "The Mantle" is wholly unusual to me. If this text is old enough that the tongue it transcribes has been completely swallowed by the maw of time, how then, is mention of such similar things still appearing now? This must be a devoted religion going back thousands of years... As only more questions filled my now fevered mind, I heard a faint rustling outside, and upon leaving the comfort of my tent, I was struck with the overpowering figure of the faun. He stared into my eyes with a sense of weary compassion, it was only after the creature beckoned me to my feet that I could fully comprehend the encounter. After I had stood, the creature turned and began to walk away. Eager for the encounter to continue, I followed the beast, it led me down a track that is supposed to lead to a hiking trail that led toward the peak of the mountain. I chose to continue against my better judgement. After I managed to get closer to the creature, I realised it emanated a comforting warmth, it almost felt as if the creature was protecting me as the temperature slowly decreased with our rapidly increasing altitude. After what felts like only a few hours, I realised the sun had sank and risen twice during our journey up the mountain. I felt as if the mountain was beckoning me to its peak, though it wasn't long before fear completely took hold of me and I was sent sprinting downhill, toward the campsite that I had abandoned...