Thursday, May 31, 2012
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)
Friday, May 18, 2012
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.
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Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Priest of Bokrug
"It is told that in the immemorial years when the world was young, before ever the men of Sarnath came to the land of Mnar, another city stood beside the lake; the gray stone city of Ib, which was old as the lake itself, and peopled with beings not pleasing to behold. Very odd and ugly were these beings, as indeed are most beings of a world yet inchoate and rudely fashioned. It is written on the brick cylinders of Kadatheron that the beings of lb were in hue as green as the lake and the mists that rise above it; that they had bulging eyes, pouting, flabby lips, and curious ears, and were without voice. It is also written that they descended one night from the moon in a mist; they and the vast still lake and gray stone city lb. However this may be, it is certain that they worshipped a sea-green stone idol chiseled in the likeness of Bokrug, the great water-lizard; before which they danced horribly when the moon was gibbous."
(from "The Doom that Came to Sarnath" by H.P. Lovecraft, 1920)
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Friday, May 11, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Prophecies of Pnom
For a
time Cthulhu and the Great Old Ones will be freed from their tombs to prey upon
the herd of mankind. In their fear and madness the remnants of humanity will
call upon their Elder Gods to save them, but those gods are weak and fearful,
and they will not leave Kadath to face Great Cthulhu.
In this time the crypts under the Monastery of
Tsan-Chan will give birth to the Avatar of Nyarlathotep that is to be known as the Prince of the Black Flame. He shall inhabit a
body sewn piecemeal from age old corpses and cover himself with yellow robes to hide his
decay, only those with the third eye will see his crown of black fire and wings
of black flame.
The
Avatar will cause the stars to change their course, then will Cthulhu and his
spawn be made to retreat to their tombs and be sealed again, dead but dreaming.
All men will turn will turn to serve the Avatar and he shall build a great
empire to cover seven tenths of the earth. Mighty altars will be set for the
Outer Gods and they shall run red both day and night. Elder Seals shall be
broken and the demons beyond Kadath set loose on the world to be worshipped and
given all manner of sacrifice.
In the
far reaches of Kadath will the Elder Gods of man cower, for the world will no
longer be theirs. In time they will be forgotten by all men. Their names not
written down on any parchment or carved upon any tablet they will grow old to
become mere shadows, eternally whispering of all they have lost.
("Prophecies
of Pnom" as translated by Prof. Christian Morgan)
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
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.
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