Cincinnati or Bust!

Following our meeting with the Lord Sage, Poincaré and I went a-huntin' for Sin-Eaters around Ohio. We dedicated a full two months to running down leads, calling in favors and speaking with contacts, all in an effort to find a Sin-Eater krewe. Though we heard a lot of rumors and urban legends, most of the intelligence we gathered proved to be a dead end. Even the Great Falls goblin market had a dearth of actionable information. Finding a group of secretive supernatural humans who don't want to be found isn't as easy as it sounds. Sin-Eaters seem to value their privacy as much as changelings do, and they appear to know how to cover their tracks well. I started to doubt that we'd ever make it to the Underworld.

Consequently, I decided to Talecraft a bit and see if Fate couldn't help us out. I tried to engineer a fateful coincidence in which we'd "accidentally" run into a Sin-Eater krewe, or at least information on where to find one. Stuff like this happens all the time in stories and fairy tales. The Talecrafting seemed to go off without a hitch. Yet, weeks passed and nothing out of the ordinary happened. I was crestfallen and began to worry that our quest might be in vain. In an attempt to cheer me up, Poincaré suggested that I accompany him to Cincinnati. He wanted to contact the hobos of old Cincy in order to forge an alliance, paving the way to restoring the Hobo Nation and returning me to my rightful place as monarch. Oh Poincaré, what a loyal and stalwart ally! Though I wasn't exactly in the mood for a diplomatic mission, I hoped that this would distract me from my feelings of disappointment.

I'd never been to Cincinnati, but my travels had told me that the hobos of that fair city belonged to a hardy stock. It was on our second day there, after convening the local hobo leaders at a downtown soup kitchen, that Poincaré and I met a changeling by the name of Jangling Jack. He was a creepy looking Darkling (Gravewight kith, I think) with a skeletal face, taut white skin, and rheumy eyes clouded by cataracts. He happened to be eating at the soup kitchen and recognized us as fellow changelings. From the shadows, he'd observed our meeting with the hobos and decided to approach us as we were leaving. We proceeded to a nearby alleyway to converse; I felt that it was important to speak with him. Perhaps Fate was throwing us a bone...



Jangling Jack

Jangling Jack was cautious about revealing too much about himself, which is expected given the trust issues common among the Lost. He was especially suspicious after we told him that we hailed from the Great Falls Freehold. Apparently, he'd heard rumors about what had transpired there, many of which were wildly inaccurate. He stated that he thought the Gentry hadn't left any fae survivors. I explained that I was one of several surviving Lost from Great Falls, and that the Gentry who'd been responsible for the Freehold's destruction were defeated, with help from yours truly. It took several hours of persuasion, some of Poincaré's money, and a short-term pledge to secure his cooperation.



Poincaré and I exchanged news with Jangling Jack before asking the million dollar question. I inquired about the presence of any local Sin-Eaters and took care to explain what they were, since their existence isn't exactly common knowledge. It took a little prodding, but Jack eventually admitted that he knew of a strange group of people who hunted ghosts in the seedier parts of Cincinnati (he didn't know them as Sin-Eaters though, instead calling them "Necromancers"). He said that he'd never directly interacted with these individuals and avoided them at all costs, but knew some of their stomping grounds. It was unclear if the group to which he referred was an actual, honest-to-God Sin-Eater krewe, but the description of its activities sounded promising. This was the best lead that we'd gotten so far, and I intended to pursue it.

 

Poincaré and I excitedly proceeded to one of the locations that Jangling Jack claimed was frequented by these mysterious ghost hunters. We went to Wesleyan Cemetery, the oldest continuously operating cemetery in Cincinnati. According to Jack, the Necromancers liked to hang out in cemeteries and/or places with lots of potential spirit activity. Consequently, Poincaré and I staked out the cemetery day and night, watching for visitors who struck us as strange or suspicious. For the first few days, there were no noteworthy visitors with the exception of an annoying group of gothic youths. I spent my time wandering the cemetery, sleeping at the doorways of mausoleums, and generally keeping a low profile. As a hobo, I'm fortunate that most people don't pay much attention to me and forget about me quickly. Poincaré, however, had to be a little more subtle and observe from a distance with binoculars.

It wasn't till nearly a week later that we caught sight of a few individuals who piqued our interest.

Note: The results of my observations (and later, contact) with the Sin-Eaters will be described in a future series of anthropological field reports.