Skarl the Drummer

OF SKARL THE DRUMMER

When MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI had made the gods and Skarl, Skarl made a drum, and began to beat upon it that he might drum for ever. Then because he was weary after the making of the gods, and because of the drumming of Skarl, did MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI grow drowsy and fall asleep.
And there fell a hush upon the gods when they saw that MANA rested, and there was silence on Pegana save for the drumming of Skarl. Skarl sitteth upon the mist before the feet of MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, above the gods of Pegana, and there he beateth his drum. Some say that the Worlds and the Suns are but the echoes of the drumming of Skarl, and others say that they be dreams that arise in the mind of MANA because of the drumming of Skarl, as one may dream whose rest is troubled by sound of song, but none knoweth, for who hath heard the voice of MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, or who hath seen his drummer?
Whether the season be winter or whether it be summer, whether it be morning among the worlds or whether it be night, Skarl still beateth his drum, for the purposes of the gods are not yet fulfilled. Sometimes the arm of Skarl grows weary; but still he beateth his drum, that the gods may do the work of the gods, and the worlds go on, for if he cease for an instant then MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI will start awake, and there will be worlds nor gods no more.
But, when at the last the arm of Skarl shall cease to beat his drum, silence shall startle Pegana like thunder in a cave, and MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI shall cease to rest.
Then shall Skarl put his drum upon his back and walk forth into the void beyond the worlds, because it is THE END, and the work of Skarl is over.
There may arise some other god whom Skarl may serve, or it may be that he shall perish; but to Skarl it shall matter not, for he shall have done the work of Skarl.

"The Gods of Pegana" by Lord Dunsany

The Saga of Huurgan, part 1

In time it came to Huurgan to leave the island of Co'crissus and take up again to the sea, for the wanderlust in his heart was far greater than his desire to remain as consort to the Queen Saajh, regardless of the comforts and pleasures of that position. He woke early one morning and left the Saajh dreaming in the royal bed chambers, then roused his crew and bid them to set sail as the sun rose.

Saajh awoke alone and went down to the docks in time to spy Huurgan's ship pulling from the harbor. A great anger rose in Saajh and she swore by the dark gods that her lover would not leave until she tired of him. With good reason was Saajh called the Witch Queen of Co'Crissus for she conjured a terrible astral demon that set to devouring Huurgan's crew.

Seeing that a ship with no crew is useless, Huurgan took up arms and fought the monster. But to no avail for his weapons passed without harm through the creature's vaporous form. In desperation Huurgan  turned and hurled his spear in a long arc across the bay, striking full into the ivory bosom of the Witch Queen. Saajh sank to the docks with a sigh as the last breath left her body and without the Witch Queen’s life force to sustain it, the ravenous demon faded away.

Huurgan's crew pulled mightily upon the oars and the ship raced to the open sea. But a great sorrow came upon Huurgan while he plied the tiller and pondered the death of Saajh;  for that spear had been a gift from a gladiatrix of Ukadd and it was a very fine spear indeed. (From The Lemurian Codex, Chapter XXXVII The Journeys of Huurgan)

The Scrolls of Druuna Cosaan

"And the great King Khossus looked into the glass from Leng, and therein beheld strange stars and further to strange worlds where life took shape only glimpsed in the nightmares of men. Thus did Nyarlathotep touch the mind of Khossus as he gazed upon the things beyond, and ruin came unto the land of Sohure."
(from the Scrolls of Druuna-Cosaan)

The Rituals of Hali

The members of the cult of the Yellow King groveled before a roaring bonfire. The cult leader, an enigmatic old man named Prynn, chanted aloud an incantation from The Rituals of Hali, an ancient book written in a tongue that only a handful of scholars across the world could read. That book revealed the path to eternal life in the mortal shell and the awful price to be paid .
Blood ran freely from the runes Prynn had carved into his chest. The wounds that would scar not just his flesh but his very soul and forever mark him as a servant of the Yellow King.
 Prynn completed the incantation and the old wizard grinned as the avatar of the Yellow King emerged from the flames. It's shape was hazy and indistinct, Prynn had the impression of great height, ragged yellow robes, and an ivory mask covering the face. The creature bent close to whisper something into Prynn's ear. Without hesitation Prynn sank to his knees before the entity and presented his wrists. A blade flashed from somewhere within the Yellow King's tattered robes to slice across the outstretched wrists and more of Prynn's blood splattered the ground. The cult leader lifted a quill with numbing fingers and signed his name in blood on the outstretched palm of the hideous thing. His name was but one of many, most of them in languages forgotten before the first stones were laid in Sumeria. Prynn fell to the ground, fainting from blood loss.

The Yellow King turned to face the grovelling cultists and their ecstasy turned to horror as he assumed his true shape to begin the feast. The screams lasted long into the night.

 Prynn awoke the next morning amid the butchered remains of what had been twenty foolish humans. I didn't matter, he had been reborn as a servant of the Lord of Hali and granted one hundred years of life until the stars wheeled around and the time came to renew his pact with the Yellow King. So would it be forever until he failed to pay the tribute of blood and souls his terrible master required. Prynn hid the Rituals of Hali, the book must be preserved for he knew his name would not be the last written on the hand of the Yellow King.

The Scroll of Kirem

The caravan had stopped for the night. One of the travelers  the sorcerer Abdul Alhazrad lounged on a fine rug, by the light of the full moon he studied the glyphs on some ancient scrolls obtained from a tomb in the crypts of Kirem. His brawny servant Achmed and the other travelers had already drifted into strange dreams induced by the Black Lotus petals that Alhazrad burnt during his evening meditations.

Alhazrad could read the ancient hyperborean language however he was not certain of the meaning of the words he chanted from the scroll. He suspected they were words of power for they seemed to  linger in the  air after being spoken. Perhaps the scroll could summon up spirits of  vast knowledge or some amusing imp from the netherworld. Alhazrad had no fear of what the words might call up, his  knowledge of the seal of Koth protected him from spiritual harm and  Achmed was well equipped to handle any physical dangers.

The chant ended, apparently with no effect. Suddenly Achmed lurched from spot where he lay dozing; clutching his stomach, he began screaming, bloody froth poured from his mouth. The man stood upright and Alhazrad stared with horror at the source of his agony;  monstrous taloned hands ripped open his belly from the inside and yellow eyes gazed out of the wound. With a final heave that tore Achmed apart, the demon stepped into the world of men through the gate the sorcerer had unknowingly created. Alhazrad sank to his knees before the gore covered demon and pleaded for his life. The demon  towered above Alhazrad, staring down at his groveling new master with blazing contempt, for he was bound into service to this human by words that neither he nor the sorcerer understood.

Dark Gods of Bal Sagoth

"There are many gods in Bal-Sagoth but the greatest of all is
    Gol-goroth who sits forever in the temple of shadows."
 (Robert E. Howard, The Gods of Bal-Sagoth)

 

 

 

 

Sorcerer Kings of Lemuria

In those last days of Lemuria sorcerers were given great power by the Old Ones who dwell in the primal dark, and the sorcerers ruled over men as though they themselves were gods. Idols of Great Cthulhu, Sub-Niggurath, and Yig were placed in the once sacred temples of the Elder Gods, even the statue of great Nodens was defiled and men swore that the elder gods of earth had lost their power. The land became cursed and all manner of evil was indulged.

 

 

 

    But in far Kadath, great Nodens watched and waited.
    In time the stars wheeled in their eternal course and the Old Ones slept, in their dreams seeking out other worlds to corrupt. Great Nodens came down from Kadath to the land of Lemuria and the people cried out praises to him. But Nodens did not listen, he went to the high peak of Koltheg-Kla and there he did awaken the fire worm that is the child of Cthugha, and the fire worm devoured the foundations of the land of Lemuria that it would sink beneath the boiling seas.
   All the tribes of Lemuria were destroyed but a few of the Sorcerers were gifted with the sight of things future and past, knowing what was to come they prepared spells and philtres to preserve their bodies and containers for the preservation of their dark souls. For in time the stars would wheel again and even great Nodens would become not even a memory and the Old Ones stir from their dreaming, then would the sorcerers rise and the tribes of man bow down to them again.
(from the Scrolls of Vecra Tutthoon)

Daughter of Set

 

 

 

 

 

"But he could see only the god-like face, the finely molded head which swayed curiously from side to side. The full lips opened and spoke a single word, in a rich vibrant tone that was like the golden chimes that ring in the jungle-lost temples of Khitai. It was an unknown tongue, forgotten before the kingdoms of man arose, but Conan knew that it meant, “Come!”

(Robert E. Howard, The God in the Bowl)

The Rites of Shub Niggurath

By no means is the worship of the outer gods a vague myth of mankind's primitive past. It is said that the blasphemous Tch-Tcho people still sacrifice to Shub-Niggurath, she who is called the Dark Mother of a Thousand Young, and others serve the Dark Mother although they may call her by different names and practice their foulest rites in secret. The talismans of the Dark Mother are still found in places where the woods are dark even by day and strange cries are heard in the night.
(from a lecture given by Rev. Alton Bowers at the Church of the Holy Light in Arkham, Massachusetts in 1903)

      

The Black Lotus Rituals

   Abdul Alhazrad was pleased with the spot he had chosen to perform the Black Lotus Ritual. It was a one room hut on the edge of the wastelands. Once the home of a madman who wandered the hills talking to shadows and oddly formed rocks, that hermit had disappeared one night during a sandstorm and the place had been shunned since. The hut had a single window facing south and that too was a good omen; for as a boy Alhazrad had glimpsed an ice bound mountain in the grip a fever dream and had known it was in the southern most reaches of earth. Perhaps the visions that the Black Lotus granted would allow him to see that mountain again or even the things that slumbered beneath it.

 

    Alhazrad seated himself in the midst of a complex series of circles and mystic symbols drawn in white chalk on the floor. He chanted the Dho-Na formulae as he lit the brazier. The dried Black Lotus began to smolder and lazily the blue smoke rose, tendrils coiling and twisting like serpents. As the smoke drew near his face, Alhazrad inhaled deeply.

 

   The lotus fumes struck his brain like thunder, he had brief but terrible sensation of falling down an endless tunnel, then he was standing, staring at his still chanting body, Alhazrad's astral form had been freed from the cage of flesh. He turned toward the window and could see countless paths leading from it. Alhazrad stepped through and began to travel.

 

   He flew through nearer astral realms and beheld spirits of the dead, some lost in  false bliss and others lost in equally false torment. Those realms could not hold him and he probed beyond the nearer realms and glimpsed the maelstrom of time itself. Lean and hungry Hounds of Tindalos stalked the edge of the maelstrom, he spoke to those things, telling them the time and place to slay his earthly enemies. That vague scent was enough for the tindalosi, they leaped into the vortex to find their prey.

    Alhazrad guided his spirit sideways into the lands of dream. There he marveled at great shantaks on the wing and was briefly entertained by the antics of playful zoogs. Then he watched as the zoogs devoured a lone traveler and his amusement became revulsion.

    He left the dreamlands and returned to the plane of earth. He sent his spirit to the very bottom of the sea where he stood with Mother Hydra and her daughters before the sunken tomb of Great Cthulhu. He felt a call from the sepulchre and he entered within, his spirit passing through the stone like mist. There he beheld the corpse of Great Cthulhu, a mountain of alien flesh that was dead but still dreaming. That dreaming essence of Cthulhu flowed out to touch him and something attached itself to Alhazrad, pain ripped through both his astral and corporeal forms.

     The agony shattered the spell and sent the sorcerer's soul crashing back to his body. Alhazrad  came to his senses with the morning light, the black lotus had long since burnt out, the sigils and diagrams on the floor were smudged from the convulsions that had wracked his body through the night. But something had changed in Alhazrad, as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes, he perceived certain angles were corridors leading to other worlds where other things gazed hatefully upon mankind. The were also changes in his physical form, but Alhazrad decided it would be best to hide those from curious eyes and bound himself with rags as though he were a leper. For those new parts of himself fought for control and they were so very hungry.

 

The Dark Mother

     The  shrieking apes whose children would some day be called men clambered down from trees and stood upright on two trembling legs, they began to kill with clubs and carried burning embers to make fire.  Their primitive intelligence grew and among them one began to dream, not of mating or hunting, but of a beautiful female voice that spoke from beyond the stars. That gentle and wise voice named herself as Shub-Niggurath, the Mother of Darkness.
     The Dreamer had only simple language, but he understood the voice of Shub-Niggurath and she told told him many things. He found an ancient oak and carved a symbol on it, exactly at the time and in the proportions she had instructed. In a season many plants that were good to eat grew around the tree and the tribe ceased roaming to dwell there. The voice taught him of plants that would heal the sick so that his people would prosper.  The voice of Shub-Niggurath would sing to the Dreamer and he in turn taught the tribe to sing the Dark Mother's praises as they gathered around the mighty oak. For a time it was perfect, there was much food and peace, the tribe grew large and its children strong. The tribe held the Dreamer in high esteem and his word became first in all things.
   Then one night near the time of the falling leaves, Shub-Niggurath spoke to the Dreamer with a voice harsh and fearsome. The Dreamer awoke in a fit of terror and he told the tribe of the Dark Mother's desire; that they should capture people of another tribe, as many as were the fingers of both hands and bring them to the oak. Half were to be bled dry on the roots of the tree in the dark of the moon and praises sung to the Mother of Darkness. The other half were to be given to the terrible firstborn of Shub-Niggurath, who would come to receive this tribute of flesh. It was done, the Dreamer led his tribe to war for the pleasure of his goddess and she smiled upon him as he performed the grisly rituals.

  With the blessings of Shub-Niggurath the dreamer lived far beyond the normal span of a man and spawned many children, some with strange aspects and even stranger appetites. When at last the Dreamer died they buried his body at the foot of the great oak so his bones would be tangled in the bloodstained roots of the ever growing tree.
 The tribe dwelt for countless years at the great oak and in time they evolved into true men and built a stone temple around the ancient tree and around that temple sprang up the first great city of man on earth, which was called Gron-Hia in that old tongue.

 Even to this day the oak still stands in the crumbled ruins of the temple and the Prophets of Pnom claim that when the comet Oucarobius stains the sky the Dreamer can be heard singing to his dark goddess. Although some would say it is just the echoing shrieks of apes from the distant forest.

The Vile One

"And in those places where men delight in vice is the presence of Y'Golonac known, and he draws to him those most wicked, that they may be devoured by him, their flesh made sweeter by their sins."
 from the The Hagan Apocrypha

Spawn of the Windwalker

 
I am the howling wind of fear.
I am the frost that brings starvation.
Who calls me with the words older than mankind?
Ia IT-AH-Qwa
Ia Shatukk ng'liu
Ia Ki-Nah-uk
Ia IT-AH-Qwa
Who calls me with an offering of flesh?
I am the Wind-Walker.
The frozen dead follow in my footsteps. They come to devour the living.

(Inscription from a menhir discovered on Ellesmere Island, translated from the Aklo by Professor Ben Crawford)

Necronomicon pages referencing human sacrifices made to the Spawn of the Windwalker by primitive tribes

Windwalker cult artifact in Miskatonic collection

The Temple of the Worm

"Out of the temple the monstrous dweller in the darkness had come, and I, who had expected a horror yet cast in some terrestrial mould, looked on the spawn of nightmare. From what subterranean hell it crawled in the long ago I know not, nor what black age it represented. But it was not a beast, as humanity knows beasts. I call it a worm for lack of a better term. There is no earthly language that has a name for it."
 The Valley of the Worm by Robert E. Howard

The Arkham Witch Box

In the spring of 1692 a woman named Keziah Mason was tried for witchcraft in Arkham, Massachusetts. The old woman was accused of being in league with the devil and many strange artifacts were found in her home and submitted as proof of her crime. Mason confessed freely to witchcraft and declared the various artifacts to be gifts from her infernal mentor, a being she referred to as "Nyarlathotep" or "The Dark Man".
 Several witnesses swore to have seen corpses walking in the forests near Mason's home and when questioned about this necromancy Mason claimed the Dark Man had given her a magical formulae that allowed her to trap the souls of dead men into a box and raise their rotting corpses to be her servants. The transcript of her trial even states that audible moans, wails, and hoarse whispers were heard to issue from the witch box.
Based on the overwhelming evidence and Mason's own confession, she was convicted of witchcraft and sentenced to death. However the convicted woman somehow escaped on the eve of her execution, that same night the witch box and her other possessions also disappeared from a locked room in the local church.
 The story might have ended there had not the witch box been recovered in 1939 during the demolition of a long abandoned farmhouse near Arkham. The item was found in the cellar of the old house near a pit containing the remains of twenty four human beings, some of these cadavers were in a skeletal state and dressed in 17th century clothing while others appeared to be much more recent. The disinterred corpses were assumed to be the work of a grave robbing cult, and since none of the remains could be identified the case was quickly closed by the local authorities and the bodies reburied. The witch box was placed in the care of Miskatonic University and has remained there since.

Servants of Yuggoth

 It is truth to say the Heirophants of Atlantis are immortal, but that longevity comes with a terrible price. The masters of Atlantis serve the Mi Go, who are sometimes called the fungi from Yuggoth. The surgical skill of the Mi Go enables them to extract the brain and preserve it alive in certain nourishing formulae. Then the bodies are prepared much in the same manner as one would prepare a mummy, drying the flesh until it becomes of a leathern quality. The Fungi then add certain apparatus into the spine of the lich,  that the disembodied brain may have perception and control of the body, much in the fashion of a puppeteer manipulating a wooden doll. The bodies are dependent upon the Mi Go to maintain the apparatus of control, thus do the Mi Go truly rule Atlantis. A mage of sufficient ability need not fear the Atlanteans, for the process renders them deprived of the means to properly conduct the subtle etheric energies, making their thaumaturgy mediocre at best. However the Mi Go are to avoided at all costs as they possess magic and knowledge inconceivable to the human mind.

   The Prophets of Pnom have often spoken of the doom that will befall Atlantis and of the pathetic bottled brains who will spend untold millenia buried on the ocean floor after this cataclysm. They will dwell trapped within their thoughts until the final death plunge of the Earth into the Sun grants them oblivion.
   (from the "Path of the Crimson Eye" as translated from the Hyperborean Aklo by Dr. Ben Crawford)

The Necromancer

The old Necromancer bade Alhazrad to be silent as he chanted an invocation to the Unspeakable Lord of Hali. The two wizards sat in an ancient graveyard on the outskirts of Mandore, protected by a magic circle drawn in their own blood. Alhazrad stole a glance at the necromancer's scrolls. Written in the magical tongue of lost Hyperborea, the scrolls contained secrets of life, death, and the undead.

The necromancer lit the wick of a stinking candle and sprinkled the essential salts over it. Then he spoke, "Now neophyte, watch as the dead rise. While the candle burns they know me as their master and before it burns out I will claim the most able and lay the carrion back to their graves with my art."

Spasms of fear ran through Alhazrad as the graves began to vomit forth the dead. They rose with moans of pain, angry at the interruption of their sleep. The eyeless sockets held nothing but grave worms, but to Alhazrad they seemed...hungry.

The Necromancer strode outside the protective circle and stood among the living dead. He gloated, "Fear them not, though they would devour us living were they not restrained by the candle. Now neophyte, tell me who is greater than he who quickens the dead to make them his slaves?"

Then a sudden gust of wind blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness. Alhazrad fumbled for his flint to reignite it. He heard the sounds of struggle, then screams of agony from his companion. After seconds of desperation Alhazrad restored the candle's flame. In that feeble flickering light, eyes wide with horror, he watched the dead feast on their former master.

In the Temple of Yezyud

The sorcerer Ludvig Prynn had traveled to the temple of Yezyud , in the library of that foul temple was a book written by a madman named Abdul Alhazrad, a book called the Necronomicon by some mystics and Prynn intended to learn the secrets of that dreaded tome. The journey had been difficult, for not only is the land of Yezyud barren and inhospitable, it is veiled by magic and many who wander into that place never return. But the sorcerer had prepared well and made his way to the temple with little trouble beyond maintaining control of the four apprentices who had accompanied him, they sensed the strangeness of this place and desired with all their hearts to flee. Only fear of Prynn had stopped them from bolting, that and the certainty that they could never find their way back to the caravan route as the stars that shone above them were abnormal and the night in this land seemed so much longer than the days.

The priests of Yezyud guarded Alhazrad's book and it would be difficult to gain their trust, only a scholar who humbled himself before their terrible god and gave proper sacrifice would be allowed to pass the great iron door and enter the library. Prynn had studied the lore of Yezyud and he knew what was expected of him; he allowed the priests to cast his four apprentices into the sacrificial pit and sang praises to the huge, many legged thing called Yezyud as its tentacles drained the screaming victims of their bodily fluids. In a final abomination the wizard went into the pit and offered the monster a taste of his own blood to seal the pact.

The reward was great, Prynn was granted one full day to study the Necronomicon. In that time he intended to absorb all the eldritch knowledge his brain could bear. The iron door swung open and closed swiftly behind Prynn, his shaking hands unlocked the ancient book and he began to read. An hour later his screams began, followed by sobs and pleas to open the door. But the servants of Yezyud paid no mind and the door was not opened until the first rays of dawn.

Prynn strode forth with a strange light in his eyes that never left him for all of his days. The Necronomicon had opened his mind to realities he had glimpsed only in Black Lotus induced nightmares, beings from beyond had spoken to Prynn through those ancient runes and he was no longer a mortal man. Without speaking a word Prynn left that same day, his weary camel suddenly skittish of the man it had carried across the barrens to this unholy place.

The priests of Yezyud went on with their normal affairs; stalking the hills for sacrifices to feed their gluttonous god. But curiously, Yezyud retreated to the honeycomb of caves beneath his temple and did not emerge to feed until a fortnight later, when Prynn had passed far from the hidden land of the Yezyudites.

The Primal Vampire

    Istvan Hunyadi was a desperate man; in the spring of 1520 the church had ordered the bold Hungarian knight to destroy the vampires who plagued the countryside. To this end Hunyadi gathered a group of brave men, each of unwavering faith. But the effort was a disaster, the vampires tore his men apart like rag dolls and seemed to have none of the weaknesses the priests had claimed for they did not cower or weaken when presented with the either the Cross or doused with Holy Water.

    Hunyadi sought out a heretic named Prynn, a man reputed to have knowledge of ancient lore concerning vampires and other things even more blasphemous . Istvan used his influence to get Prynn access to the libraries of the church and there, locked away and untouched for centuries they discovered a moldering scroll written in a strange language. The knight was repulsed by the horrid runes, feeling as though merely looking upon them was a sin. He became even more horrified when Prynn read the glyphs, revealing the terrible rituals that could give power to equal the vampires and the location of the monstrous thing that even the undead feared.

  The knight and his sinister companion left the following day, vaguely hinting that they would travel into the Carpathian Mountains on some pilgrimage.

   Hunyadi returned from the journey alone, never speaking of what they found or of the fate of Prynn. But the knight brought back a darkly stained wooden stake, vowing that it was the key to destroying the vampires.  He quickly proved the value of his mysterious weapon by killing a dozen of the undead over the course of a fortnight, more vampires than had been slain over the previous century. Rumor spread that Hunyadi drank the blood of the vampires he killed and chanted in strange tongues, causing his own warriors to draw back in fear of his battle madness. But the men who started these tales disappeared and no more was spoken of the matter.

Priests whispered about the origins of Hunyadi’s stake and the nature of its power; some suggested it was a splinter from the Ark of Noah, others thought it to be a limb pruned from the Tree of Life, some even speculated it was fragment from the Holy Cross itself. Hunyadi remained silent, occasionally mumbling that it was a gift from his god if one of the priests pressed him on the matter.

   The elder vampires came into the land, things so old they had fed upon the slaves who built the pyramids of Egypt, and they also whispered into the ears of the church leaders, revealing the true origins of Hunyadi's weapon. It was a splinter from the stake that impaled the heart of the first Vampire, holding that primal monster in its tomb. Hunyadi prayed to the father of the undead each time he slew its grandchildren and it became stronger with each sacrifice. Soon it would be strong enough to tear the stake from its heart and rise to consume all the living and the undead.

   The church leaders acted swiftly, Hunyadi was charged with witchcraft and sentenced to death by fire. As he burned Istvan Hunyadi screamed for his undead master to save him. But to no avail, he was burnt to ashes. That night the elder vampires gathered the ashes of the fallen knight, they mixed them with salt and scattered them across the land that no necromancy might ever raise Istvan Hunyadi.

   In a crypt hidden in the Carpathian Mountains the primal vampire listened to the death cries of his servant but paid little heed, the loss was a small thing for it could not die and eventually another would come to free it. The monster returned to its eons long death sleep, dreaming of revenge on its children and the ocean of blood waiting to be drank.

The Dhole Rituals

   In primal times the men of Lemuria served the outer goddess Shub-Niggurath, she who is called the Dark Mother of a thousand young.  A great temple was built to honor the goddess and her jade altars were stained red with the blood of human sacrifice. The terrible first born Children of Shub Niggurath came to dwell in the forests of Lemuria and these places were made sacred to them, these things spawning abominations with beasts and even upon the daughters of the lemurians. For their veneration of the outer god the Lemurians were rewarded with lush harvests and became wealthy beyond all other tribes of men.

  Then the Picts came to Lemuria in their long ships decorated with skulls of men and  beasts. The Picts were mighty warriors who acknowledged no deity save the war-god Cruuach, who had decreed that the world belonged to those with the will and strength to take it. In the field of battle they slaughtered the Lemurians and even the abominations of the Dark Mother fell to their spears, for in those days Pictish wizards had knowledge of the Seal of Koth which made iron as poison to those things from outside.

    The Lemurian priests begged Shub-Niggurath for aid. In a single fortnight they sacrificed a thousand virgins in the garden of the great temple, the ground become as red mud, soaked with blood that nourished the strange and unwholesome plants that grew there. At last the Dark Mother appeared to them, she came in a form so exquisite the young acolytes gouged their eyes from the sockets, wishing her beauty be their last sight. The Dark Mother spoke, "From across the void I have watched these foul men defile my land and slay the children of my own blood. It shall end now. I shall give to thee formulae to rouse the Dholes from their sleep in the deep earth, let those devouring worms feast and cleanse the land". The Dark Mother laid her hand upon the head of the groveling archpriest, words older than the stars flowed into his mind. He fell to the ground numb with knowledge.

   The archpriest was alone when he awoke; Shub-Niggurath had taken the other clergy and acolytes as tribute. The high priest took hammer and chisel to carve the alien words that gnawed at his mind, setting them forever into the temple walls. Then he traveled to the edge of the pictish camp as his god had instructed. He could hear the useless cries for mercy from his countrymen as the Picts cast them alive into flaming pyres, hatred overcame fear in the archpriest and he at last spoke aloud the formulae that would call up the terrible Dholes.

      It was so; the titan worms rose and swallowed the screaming Picts. But their hunger was not satisfied, they consumed all the men and beasts of that ancient land, till nothing of flesh lived in Lemuria. Only at the oceans did the Devourers stop, for the mystery of water is beyond the mind of the Dhole. The Devourers turned away, burrowing through space, time, and dreams, back to their home deep beneath the Crypts of N'kai.

 For eons the land was empty of living things but in time men returned to the Lemurian continent and inhabited the ruins of the previous race. Wisely they sealed the Temple of Shub-Niggurath and when that land sank beneath the waves the Dhole formulae was lost in that forgotten temple on the ocean's floor.