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ask-the-crimson-king · 3 years

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Warriors of the 17th Host of the Word Bearers

[Hello. Been a bit since I've posted anything art-related on here.

Please welcome half of the main cast of my Black Crusade game: The Word Bearers of the 17th Host! (The other half are the players themselves)

Some of you may recognize the names from a prior blog of mine that has kind of fell to the wayside. (Shill here @fides-regnat-aeterna because I plan to revive it soon) Yes. These are the same characters. Now with faces!

For those unacquainted, allow me to introduce them for you under the cut for the convenience of others:

Let's begin with the head of the Host:

Ans'ar has been the Apostle of the Host for millennia, being one of the few Word Bearers who even crossed the deserts with Lorgar prior to his ascension as an Astartes. He is known to be benevolent and lax with his warriors, and he is known to have stirring and persuasive sermons. Usually he will use them in order to bring more Imperials to the Truth, but sometimes he will use them on fellow Legionnaires. He has even been able to recruit warriors from other Legions as of late, and he personally turned his Coryphaus to the light of the Truth. With the death of his First Acolyte, he has since been under the watch of the 34th as they embark on their latest crusade.

Super happy with how he turned out, especially the shading of the skin. I'm trying to get better with it, and this whole piece has been great practice. Though I do wish I could make his expression a bit softer. Something to work on in future!

Gibil once belonged to the Salamanders, but was able to be converted by Ans'ar after a very shaky engagement with the XVIIth centuries ago. Gibil personally was able to kill one of his predecessors, and when he was taken prisoner, Ans'ar made sure he was treated well despite circumstances. After a few conversations, he was in, and thanks to his prowess in battle and inside knowledge of more modern Imperial tactics, he was later promoted to the rank of Coryphaus. This did make his new brothers wary and some did voice concerns about one not of the Legion attaining a rank so coveted, but Ans'ar quelled such voices after letting Gibil prove himself.

An NPC that's yet to really shine, but hopefully will be able to in coming sessions. Gibil was fun to try to draw, and I think I did decently well. I was originally going to make the little mohawk green, but decided against it since he has other ways of proclaiming his first heritage. Such as the drakescale draped over his armor.

A young, wary warrior of the 17th, Lacertes has recently begun undertaking tutelage by Merrick and Captain An-Ishkur. Through them, he is learning all he needs to become a true son of Lorgar, and a Bearer of the Word. Most recently, he has tried his hand at sermonizing with... limited success. But there is the chance for improvement. In time, anyway.

Young lad! Tiny boy that Merrick, the party Word Bearer, has since kind of adopted. He was fun to draw. Yes I am aware of the eyes, I was finishing this around like 3am and I was tired. Shusheth.

An-Ishkur is the Captain of one of the many coteries of the 17th Host, though most of the time he will be given charge of the younger warriors as he has been deemed a bit too temperamental to be with the veterans. This has changed recently, as he has been granted a chance to change that. However, he does have to look over a gaggle of misfit warriors from the other Legions to do so. Fortunately Merrick is there, so all he has to do is keep Hersyaf in line. The two had been together since their recruitment to the Legion shortly after Monarchia, for the Pilgrimage. Although they do bicker and fight, An-Ishkur still stands by him, remembering the warrior that was, and to keep him away from trouble.

These two should've been put in the picture together honestly. But An-Ishkur is fun! He was the first NPC besides Hersyaf that the party met. His hair was really fun to draw, same with his expression. Really proud of how this turned out.

Hersyaf is an oddity. Not only did something go wrong during the binding ritual that led to his ascension into the Vakrah Jal, but he has a crabby captain always yelling at him for doing what he does best. Blind and fueled by the daemon within, Hersyaf no longer can revert to his mortal form and very little remains of the soul of the warrior the daemon inhabited. He has also sometimes trailed the Master of Possession, as he seems to be treated as an object of study from time to time.

The wolf man himself. Not much has been uncovered about him yet. I will keep most a secret, for now. Also super cool to create. I loved making his teeth. I tried to make his fur all grimy with blood, but it kinda acts more as a lighting effect. Oh, well. Still looks cool.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST...

The Master of Possession of the 17th Host is another one of its many myriad oddities. Firstly, he is originally a sorcerer of the Thousand Sons. Secondly, he simply joined because of his interest in daemonology, and he seemed to be fairly amicable with Ans'ar from a shared history. Thirdly, he seems to be partially or fully responsible for what has happened to Hersyaf as of late. His practices are suspect, but he can create many different creations quite quickly and cleanly, so he's able to get the true higher-ups of the Legion off his back. Though his time may have run out in terms of the 34th, however...

A BASTARD through and through, and disliked by many. He is Magnus' arrogance made manifest. So I tried to show it in the face. for the eyes it was a tossup between blue, green, or potentially purple. Went with blue to mix things up. God this smug bastard has a punchable face. He will get punched next session by the resident Thousand Son in the party for what he did to Hersyaf. It will be quite amusing.

SO THAT IS THEM! Yes, there was a First Acolyte, and yes, he died. He was plotting against the Dark Apostle and the Legion, and was summarily executed. Said execution prompted questioning by the Dark Council, and now the 34th have been sent to keep an eye on the Host. The party is helping to throw them off and to help stave them off entirely.

But first they have to go through Marduk. Hurray.

This piece was the first true passion piece I have made in a while. Hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed making it.]

#moonclaws art hell #art hell #word bearers #warhammer 40k #look at me actually using the big tags #look at me promoting my shit for once #lets go lads #god this was fun #took me like 15 hours #but it was a fun 15 hours!

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borderlandscast · 5 years

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so i’m sitting here, typing up a post

and realise said post comparing all the rythians in their aus is longer than i thought it’d be, and realise star wars rythian is the cause. it’ll probably get its own post.

i have four different rythians for aus and they’re all slightly different in some way, whether it’s in interests, background or personality quirks.

common factors:

they’re all massive nerds, and have a specific interest that often drives them. it’s usually knowledge or book related.

tall. they have to be the tallest in the au, or one of them.

they’re all adventurers in their own way, but like having a place to put their feet up and rest.

borderlandscast:

the saddest and gayest one of them all. goes through the toughest and soul crushing experiences.

also has the highest alcohol tolerance of them all thanks to his on and off alcoholism.

is the most cynical out of all of them, but also had some wild optimism in there? he can be very tenacious, and vicious when pushed. also one of the nicer vault hunters around.

in essence, can be considered a true vault hunter, since he’s willing to die for a vault.

tough as nails. his third skill tree ‘timeless’ essentially lets him ascend if he exceeds critical damage. it also stalls bleeding and wounds acquired, but he goes into a berserker state (rythian isn’t sure if he’ll ever gain enough control over it) that causes potentially life threatening mental and physical strain upon cooldown. however, he can cross dimensions, barriers and ignore all and any damage taken while ‘phasewalking’.

also unlocked a passive skill that’s a part of the ‘timeless’ tree: royal blood. the joke here is that purple used to be considered a royal color, and he’s from a highborn fami- anyway, rythian’s eridium tainted blood possesses an even more potent nature than raw eridium, could prove intoxicating to sirens, or serve as a substitute to eridium in extentuating circumstances (like opening eridium dependent vaults, cough). it also drives lalnable nuts for a different reason since he can’t do proper blood tests.

afflicted with lactose intolerance, as if his life wasn’t bad enough. enjoys cheese. forgot it existed while on pandora. likes chocolate.

estranged from family. doesn’t consider himself to be a stellar example of said family (which is explored in star wars au).

hates public speaking, never gets used to delivering seminars, or becoming an esteemed guest to conferences. as a result, a lot of megacorporations have their eye on him and his activities.

has the most number of scars. not particularly concerned with how people view said collection, but he has an ambivalent view towards his own, damaged body. he’s on the path to healing and having a better relationship with his body (which is also helped along in part by ravs).

discworld:

the youngest rythian! he’s in his late twenties.

he hasn’t got that much practical experience as a wizard, and specialises in studying and assessing materials that have magic potential. he could be classed as a ‘thaumaturgist’ (i think that’s the actual title of his job, noted somewhere in one of discworld books) that’s before he got distracted in updating the compendium of magic styles.

that said, he’s got fairly extensive knowledge in wizarding theory. you could probably call him that one student who puts their hand up to sidetrack the professor/lecturer by asking insightful but hard questions. all the other students actually prefer this since they can escape learning.

branded as an oddity amongst his peers by being wiling to mix and match casting styles and schools. wizards are all about formulas, flair, tradition and pomp. rythian cares more about the result than how he got there and how he looks while doing it. he’s not inattentive as how to how he casts magic though.

born as the eighth and youngest child of a book doctor (someone who repairs books and texts) and tanner. grew up used to the smell of paper, glues and dyes. got sent to wizarding school as a favor since his parents are used to the weirdness of repairing magic books. they’re also the only people in the business within anhk-morpork since everyone else doesn’t want to deal with that weirdness.

all his other siblings help out with the family business. he’s not particularly close with any of them who are a lot more dedicated to their jobs while rythian would rather read the book he’s assigned to repair, and he hates dealing with dead animals so he never got any tanner jobs as a kid.

so, known as the wizard in the family, he can do whatever he wants. his family consults him from time to time on strange books, and how to troubleshoot if a book happens to react badly to being fixed.

can navigate library space like a seasoned veteran. he has a unique knack to it; he jokes about ‘talking to the books’...which may or may not be true.

he favors practical, small scale magic, like making a fire, getting a good tail wind, or removing old tea stains from lace.

a little absent minded when he’s deep in thought, and can read while walking, eating or doing something else. he has no preferences about reading material. once, he had a romance novel; his siblings thought he had someone. they were wrong, he just picked it up on recommendation.

due to his wizarding background, sometimes he completely misses obvious solutions or meanings since he’s used to less straightfoward terms and inquiries. i.e., lomadia wants him to teach a chicken a lesson? okay, instead of decapitating said naughty chicken, rythian will educate the chicken on the basic differences on good and bad, and proceed to accidentally give said chicken higher sentience.

athiest, as far as religion goes. he’s aware of higher beings, he just doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to make them his greater calling in life, or ask for any favors.

personality wise, he’s fairly mellow, polite and well-meaning, knowledgable and for a wizard, surprisingly street smart. he can be judgemental and set in his ways about how people treat books and wizards, and easily defensive about said teachings.

he grew up on anhk-morpork cuisine, home cooking and street food, so his tastes heavily lean towards greasy but/and filling. he has a ridiculous metabolism since his brain is so active.

asexual, biromantic; this may change later on. has no romantic experience. is baffled by people’s fixations on sex. knows what sex is, though, and embarrassed.

his dark materials:

roughly the same age as borderlandscast rythian. i.e, early thirties.

orientations undecided.

will get to his daemon in another post!

scholar, particularly interested in the studies of forbidden magic and the origin of daemon development (especially mythical or legendary forms). officially, he’s his own scholar and one of the curators of sweden’s university library. he assists other scholars in finding and examining texts and delivering them. he’s also tasked with retrieval of texts if needed, from other archives and by extension, other countries.

he actually has a fairly neat collection of ‘destroyed’ texts. these are papers about the nature of dust, rebuttals, banned authors and such. he hates getting ‘please destroy’ letters from the church.

he passes his daemon off as an unusual variant of thorny devil, provided ender keeps their wings tucked in tight and hidden.

rythian’s magic is fairly weak in this au; he rarely finds time to nurture his magic, nor has the slightest idea of the best way to do so. he can tap into basic elemental manipulation, but that’s about it. he’s convinced it’s tied to his daemon’s form.

he’s tasked with finding any existing volumes of althiometer readings and symbols from oxford for sweden’s own archives; rythian takes this opportunity to leave sweden and undertake his biggest and secret goal yet.

brown haired and blue eyed; missing the pale stripe from his hair in this au.

speaks english, latin and swedish. knows a handful of useful phrases in other languages. can read and write a couple of other languages. not sure what ones yet.

knows his ways around the social politics of the scholars that visit; doesn’t actively partake in rivalries, spats or dealings, generally keeps his head down and just does his job.

well educated, spoken and mannered. rythian rarely loses his composure unless he’s surprised, angered or excited. it usually takes a lot to get him to break his straight face.

did consider applying to become a missionary to travel widely but realised he had little interest in preaching since he doesn’t have that much faith in god to begin with. plus, his daemon is proof of his deviance from the norm, or so he rationalises. he can understand the dedication of worship but he views himself and ender exempt from the doors of the church. yeah, he has mixed feelings about religion. i don’t know if i’ll explore this since it’s a topic i’m not equipped to handle.

#borderlandscast: extras #borderlandscast: his dark materials #borderlandscast: discworld

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hyperionswrath--archived · 3 years

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@regisluciscaelum

It was odd- the way the man seemed to be fighting with himself. Here a moment, gone the next. Regis had learned to become more observant after his time out on the battlefields, and he had witnessed many oddities. But this? This was different. The way his eyes changed every now and again, flashing into something less than human. It was as if he was being possessed or controlled by a daemonic entity. There were several daemons capable of possession, even more so capable of muddling the minds of men and turning them against one another. However, he’d never seen one with such an influence before. Could there truly be a daemonic entity out there with dark magic enough to do something like this? (...)

Huffing a shallow breath of relief when the pain slightly subsided under the man's ministrations, jade-greens once more found blues as Seifer curtly shook his head, a motion that sent his mind adrift again, as if something inside of him was not quite right and struggling to keep a grasp on him.

"No... I mean-", cutting himself off, he frowned, suddenly not quite so sure if someone had actually told him whatever they were supposed to, " - I don't know." Grimacing, one could think another pang of pain haunted him, but really he was becoming more aware of the situation he was stuck in, at the mercy of his enemies and seemingly not quite in his right mind on top of that.

Expression now darkening at the realization, Seifer was about to say something when Regis bested him, dropping a verbal bomb that not only gave the blond a significant pause of shock but seemed to also startle the guard - or whatever that guy was standing by the door - yet no one said a word as the Crown Prince continued to lay out his intentions.

Quite frankly, he was not sure what to make of all of that. "Lemme get this straight," he started, the healing now progressed enough that he felt safe to shift in his seat and set his shoulders - small things that somehow still managed to emanate a certain air of arrogance and better-than-thou attitude. "You want me to fight for you an' spill the beans 'bout the Empire."

Wrapping up the details in short like that, Seifer tilted his head to the side after, one brow slowly creeping up in a display of clear distrust. "Why?"

Getting information out of him he could wrap his head around. Pardoning him and employing him as a soldier on the other side of the battlefield - a turncoat at that - not so much. While things were still uncomfortably blurry in his mind and he felt weaker and more vulnerable than he'd like to admit, he knew what he had done. Still, there was no way he would allow the facts to sink in enough to bring him close to the edge of losing his mind - more than he seemingly already had.

There was no place for that now, so all he would focus on where hard facts, no feelings attached. "I'm gonna take a deal like that any day, but I want to know why you care enough to let me live." Frankly, he refused to lie down and die, much less let someone kill him if he could avoid it. Yet not being in control of the situation, or even knowing which chess piece he was supposed to be here, was unacceptable. And if he rolled over the explanations posed to him in his mind, he wasn't sure he was buying the whole Daddy-Issue thing.

Falling silent for a moment, emerald eyes wandered, taking in the other man in the room, the vicinity itself, his blood-stained hands, and what he could see of his clothes before he looked up at Regis again. "I killed a shit ton of your people, doesn't make much sense to me to keep me as a pawn or whatever. Much less someone to join your little party of super-power-soldiers."

The simple act of elaborating the reason behind his questions was posed in such a disrespectful manner one had to wonder if Seifer really wanted to survive after this meeting. Irritation was the main drive behind this - he wasn't stupid, even General Glauca had received a respectful approach from him, yet confusion, physical pain and the simple instinct of fight-or-flight waylaying at the corners of his subconscious had him tense both on the inside as on the outside.

#regisluciscaelum #.rp #.long post #.cut for length #.to be tagged

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sabraeal · 7 years

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Creatures of a Brief Season: Part 1

Shirayuki is special, she knows.

She is told so every day when she walks to the schoolyard, books tucked in her tiny arms, and ermine wrapped around her neck. Shou the baker will rush from his shop as she passes by, a bun fresh from the oven just for her. Kino, the weaver’s wife, will stick her head out the window, calling out for a kiss to be blown her way. Eno the potter touches her head as she passes, his smile wide and kind when he says, for luck.

They expect great things from her, but she’s the same as all the other children, at heart. She asks the same silly questions, skins her knees just the same when she jumps off the best climbing tree, gets sick the same way when she makes her daemon test the boundary of their bond -- followed by the same speculation about the witches in Sama, and whether they really can be separated from their daemons by miles. She lays back, head pounding, and ponders what that means for their souls.

And just like any other child, she wonders what her daemon will settle as.

The children in her class say all the normal things: a horse, a bear, an eagle, a monkey. In the schoolyard there are the normal jeers, you’ll settle as a snake, or, you’re a cat all right – one of the ugly, hairless ones. The adults all laugh; in her neighborhood they are all cats and dogs and sparrows, dun-colored and common. They are not born well enough to have such proud animals; the most they could hope for is a squirrel or a pig.

All of them save for her.

When she speculates – an owl, or maybe even a cat – the adults all shake their head. No, no, they say with knowing smiles, you’ll be a fox with hair as red as that.

She is tired of such answers, of Oma saying, you’ll be a cardinal, won’t that be fine, or Anda’s, if you don’t start thinking for yourself you’ll end up with some idiot setter.

Just once, she’d like someone to tell her she’d be a shrew.

I hope I’m something beautiful, Perkunas tells her when he curls into her at night, sometimes a lovely brindled tabby, other times quivering chinchilla, but most often a sleek ermine, coat white without a single blemish.

She knows what’s brought this on; he’s seen Shou’s stout boar, thick with muscle and stomach swaying as it trots after the baker. He’s a vain little thing at heart, and she scratches him behind his ears, enjoying the feel of his smooth fur beneath her fingers.

I hope you’re something useful, she says, and he snorts in response, twisting under her palms in displeasure. A snicker laces itself through her breath, only goading his anger, but she means what she says as well. He useful like this, able to shift into a monkey with clever hands when she needs help behind the bar, or an otter that cuts through the river when she swims, or an owl when she needs a lookout. To think he might settle, might become only one of those things – it scares her.

Maybe it won’t happen until she’s older; she’ll be one of those who don’t settle until long after she should, garnering curious looks from the other children her age. Then she might be ready, might want to know who she is.

It could all end up all right.

Of course, it does not happen that way. The world would need to be kind, and she knows as well as any that it only takes and takes.

The sickness starts with the miller’s daughter; it takes months for Anda to trace it back to the source, to find the algae in the river that turns their eyes and skin yellow. It’s too late for Oma.

“Liver failure,” he tells her as they dig the grave, his jackdaw crowing ominously on his shoulder. In all her months with him, she’s never hear her speak. “Must be something in the food…”

She doesn’t care. She knows she should, that she should be churning his diagnosis over in her mind, but this was her grandmother, her Oma, and all she wants it to be left alone.

So she runs.

Herr Anda calls after her, so dire she nearly turns back, but she can’t, she can’t –

Perkunas flutters between forms as she runs; a hare, a jay, a wild cat, all trying to keep pace beside her, trying to fit what she needs, what she feels. She doesn’t know how he decides – if he decides – how to shape himself, but she can’t imagine how he does it now when there is nothing in her, nothing but an aching pit rimmed with anger, threatening to consume her.

Her toes catch under an elm’s thick root, sending her sprawling to the forest floor. She catches herself on hands and knees, the leaves beneath her slipping and sliding under the force of her impact. She rolls over, onto her back, and lays there, letting the wet of the litter seep into her. Her skin crawls at its clamminess, but that’s fine, it’s all fine as long as she’s feeling something besides this. This nothing.

Perkunas trots over to her, his form shivering, shifting, in distinct, and when he lays on her chest, body wide and squat, striped snout tucked up under her child, she feels it – as if a puzzle piece has snapped into place.

She looks down into his gold eyes, their breaths strangely in sync, and says, “Oh.”

They hide when her grandmother is placed in the earth, but when it is time for Opa to be laid to rest, bare weeks later, Perkunas helps to dig the hole.

It’s strange how normally she is treated once Perkunas has settled. His form isn’t one of the usual ones – no cat or dog or mouse, not for him – but there is nothing special about a badger, save that this one won’t savage them if they tread too close. The red hair that had made her seem so magical before now only is an oddity, a quirk of her parentage.

She’s an adult now in their eyes, and when she moves all her things from her empty childhood home above the pub to Herr Anda’s, no one does more than offer her a wave in a smile. They all lost loved ones in the plague; just because she has lost her world does not make her any more deserving of their pity.

“You’re a child still,” Anda grouses as she carries all of her worldly possessions on her back. “This is some folk superstition, thinking this conveys maturity. As silly as thinking your menses make you ready to bear a babe.”

He goes on about the burgeoning acceptance of adolescence as a phase in the higher courts for the rest of the night, dropping it for periods of silence before starting up again apropos to nothing but his own whims. She’s used to this, to his strange tirades and segues, and – and it’s comforting, to have lost everything but to have this: the warmth of Perkunas at her side, and the crotchety rantings of her master and squawks of his jackdaw to keep her company.

Shirayuki forgets that she is special, that she is different.

Until she cannot anymore.

The forest is different at night; it is not the one she knows in the day, the one that she has played in since she was a little girl. It is not shafts of light through the trees and curled ferns, but instead grasping branches and roots, tangling her up and scratching at her face. She wanders off the path in her fear and confusion, trying to head anywhere that is away, anywhere that will not lead back to where that dead-eyed guard told her she would be a concubine, his dog daemon crouched low, growling deep in her throat.

Her fear threatens to choke her; already it leaves her gasping, panting, her legs aching with fatigue. The only respite she gets is what time it takes for Perkunas to trundle after her, his stubby legs too awkward for running long distances. He is slowing her down; too squat to run and too heavy to hold. By morning the prince’s men will know she is gone, and they have dogs, daemons that will scent her and track her and –

“I’m stuck!” Perkunas shrills, and she has to backtrack through the darkness, searching for his stumpy little body in the undergrowth.

The canopy is so thick she can hardly see, stumbling through the underbrush with only thin slivers of moonlight to guide her steps, and then she sees him, back end caught beneath a gnarled root, and it’s just like him to misjudge his girth, to think those apples he snuck before dinner hadn’t made his belly sit heavy on the ground. She rushes toward, reaching out, ready to help him, but her hands only brush his fur and – and –

He flops out with a wheeze, sinuous little body writhing on the ground as she falls beside him, panting, the pain so searing –

“Perkunas,” she gasps, pulling him to her breast. His narrow face burrows into her neck, his ferrety body curling against her palm. “Oh Perkunas, what have we done?”

“I don’t know,” he whines, but he shrinks under her hands, becoming a little mouse, and she has no time to think, no time to mourn. They must get away, as far as they can.

There will be time to question later.

#obiyukibingo #obiyuki #daemon AU #my fic #ans #no worries #the rest of it is written #it just made far more sense to split it into parts #next one on wednesday #who knows MAYBE OBI WILL ACTUALLY SHOW UP IN THAT ONE #will wonders never cease

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thespookyplum · 7 years

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Downsizing Tarot Sale

Hello everyone, I'm very excited to be returning to the Spooky Plum after so long. A few things have changed and are changing around here, as you may have guessed from the title. I'm very grateful to have been given the option of going part-time at work, rather than being completely let go. This means that we only have two half-salaries coming in to support two adults and a cat. We're moving to a smaller place and taking the positive view that this is our chance to try a minimalist lifestyle. :) We will be recycling, donating and selling some of our possessions and furniture along with other bits and pieces. Come September I will start listing my tarot cards, a variety of books related to tarot, magic and other things plus some crystals and other spiritual ornaments and tools. However, I would very much like to give people who inspired me here on tumblr the opportunity to acquire these first. I wish I could gift these things, but moving itself costs and we need to raise some extra cents to help us with that. I will post photos and descriptions over the coming weeks, but to give a vague idea here are some of the tarot decks I have, all in excellent condition: The Revelations Tarot The Deviant Moon The Earthbound Oracle The Wooden Tarot The Halloween Tarot by Kipling West The Daemon Tarot The Zombie Tarot Deste Cards The Wild Unknown Tarot (& book) TWU Animal Spirit (& book) The Prisma Visions Tarot Oracle of Oddities Playing Card Oracles by Anna Cortez (plus signed guide book and a poster) Aliester Crowley's Thoth Tarot Thank you all for reading. Here's to getting back to the new normal at home and here. Big hugs and blessings.

#tarot #tarot community #tarot cards #wicthcraft #wicca #pagan #books #for sale

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sainterly · 7 years

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Excerpts from H. P. Lovecraft’s commonplace book.

This book consists of ideas, images, & quotations hastily jotted down for possible future use in weird fiction. Very few are actually developed plots—for the most part they are merely suggestions or random impressions designed to set the memory or imagination working. Their sources are various—dreams, things read, casual incidents, idle conceptions, & so on.

—H. P. Lovecraft

4 Horror Story Man dreams of falling—found on floor mangled as tho’ from falling from a vast height.

5 Narrator walks along unfamiliar country road,—comes to strange region of the unreal.

“Here we have fetter’d and manacled Time, who wou’d otherwise slay the Gods.”

7 Horror Story The sculptured hand—or other artificial hand—which strangles its creator.

8 Hor. Sto. Man makes appt. with old enemy. Dies—body keeps appt.

11 Odd nocturnal ritual. Beasts dance and march to musick.

12 Happenings in interval between preliminary sound and striking of clock—ending—

“it was the tones of the clock striking three”.

13 House and garden—old—associations. Scene takes on strange aspect.

14 Hideous sound in the dark.

15 Bridge and slimy black waters. [Fungi—The Canal]

17 Doors found mysteriously open and shut etc.—excite terror.

20 Man journeys into the past—or imaginative realm—leaving bodily shell behind.

21 A very ancient colossus in a very ancient desert. Face gone—no man hath seen it.

23 The man who would not sleep—dares not sleep—takes drugs to keep himself awake. Finally falls asleep—and something happens. Motto from Baudelaire p. 214. [Hypnos]

24 Dunsany—Go-By Street Man stumbles on dream world—returns to earth—seeks to go back—succeeds, but finds dream world ancient and decayed as though by thousands of years.

1919

25 Man visits museum of antiquities—asks that it accept a bas-relief he has just made—old and learned curator laughs and says he cannot accept anything so modern. Man says that

‘dreams are older than brooding Egypt or the contemplative Sphinx or garden-girdled Babylonia’

and that he had fashioned the sculpture in his dreams. Curator bids him shew his product, and when he does so curator shews horror. Asks who the man may be. He tells modern name. “No—before that” says curator. Man does not remember except in dreams. Then curator offers high price, but man fears he means to destroy sculpture. Asks fabulous price—curator will consult directors.

Add good development and describe nature of bas-relief.

27 Life and Death Death—its desolation and horror—bleak spaces—sea-bottom—dead cities. But Life—the greater horror! Vast unheard-of reptiles and leviathans—hideous beasts of prehistoric jungle—rank slimy vegetation—evil instincts of primal man—Life is more horrible than death.

28 The Cats of Ulthar The cat is the soul of antique Ægyptus and bearer of tales from forgotten cities of Meroë and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungle’s lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

29 Dream of Seekonk—ebbing tide—bolt from sky—exodus from Providence—fall of Congregational dome.

30 Strange visit to a place at night—moonlight—castle of great magnificence etc. Daylight shews either abandonment or unrecognisable ruins—perhaps of vast antiquity.

31 Prehistoric man preserved in Siberian ice. (See Winchell—Walks and Talks in the Geological field—p. 156 et seq.)

32 As dinosaurs were once surpassed by mammals, so will man-mammal be surpassed by insect or bird—fall of man before the new race.

33 Determinism and prophecy.

34 Moving away from earth more swiftly than light—past gradually unfolded—horrible revelation.

37 Peculiar odour of a book of childhood induces repetition of childhood fancy.

38 Drowning sensations—undersea—cities—ships—souls of the dead. Drowning is a horrible death.

39 Sounds—possibly musical—heard in the night from other worlds or realms of being.

40 Warning that certain ground is sacred or accursed; that a house or city must not be built upon it—or must be abandoned or destroyed if built, under penalty of catastrophe.

41 The Italians call Fear La figlia della Morte—the daughter of Death.

42 Fear of mirrors—memory of dream in which scene is altered and climax is hideous surprise at seeing oneself in the water or a mirror. (Identity?)

44 Castle by pool or river—reflection fixed thro’ centuries—castle destroyed, reflection lives to avenge destroyers weirdly.

45 Race of immortal Pharaohs dwelling beneath pyramids in vast subterranean halls down black staircases.

Visitor from tomb—stranger at some publick concourse followed at midnight to graveyard where he descends into the earth.

47 From Arabia Encyc. Britan. II—255

Prehistoric fabulous tribes of Ad in the south, Thamood in the north, and Tasm and Jadis in the centre of the peninsula. “Very gorgeous are the descriptions given of Irem, the City of Pillars (as the Koran styles it) supposed to have been erected by Shedad, the latest despot of Ad, in the regions of Hadramaut, and which yet, after the annihilation of its tenants, remains entire, so Arabs say, invisible to ordinary eyes, but occasionally and at rare intervals, revealed to some heaven-favoured traveller.” // Rock excavations in N.W. Hejaz ascribed to Thamood tribe.

48 Cities wiped out by supernatural wrath.

49 AZATHOTH—hideous name.

50 Phleg′-e-thon—

a river of liquid fire in Hades.

51 Enchanted garden where moon casts shadow of object or ghost invisible to the human eye.

52 Calling on the dead—voice or familiar sound in adjacent room.

53 Hand of dead man writes.

54 Transposition of identity.

55 Man followed by invisible thing.

56 Book or MS. too horrible to read—warned against reading it—someone reads and is found dead. Haverhill incident.

57 Sailing or rowing on lake in moonlight—sailing into invisibility.

58 A queer village—in a valley, reached by a long road and visible from the crest of the hill from which that road descends—or close to a dense and antique forest.

59 Man in strange subterranean chamber—seeks to force door of bronze—overwhelmed by influx of waters.

60 Fisherman casts his net into the sea by moonlight—what he finds.

62 Live man buried in bridge masonry according to superstition—or black cat.

64 Identity—reconstruction of personality—man makes duplicate of himself.

65 Riley’s fear of undertakers—door locked on inside after death.

66 Catacombs discovered beneath a city (in America?).

67 An impression—city in peril—dead city—equestrian statue—men in closed room—clattering of hooves heard from outside—marvel disclosed on looking out—doubtful ending.

68 Murder discovered—body located—by psychological detective who pretends he has made walls of room transparent. Works on fear of murderer.

69 Man with unnatural face—oddity of speaking—found to be a mask—Revelation.

70 Tone of extreme phantasy Man transformed to island or mountain.

71 Man has sold his soul to devil—returns to family from trip—life afterward—fear—culminating horror—novel length.

75 Black Mass under antique church.

76 Ancient cathedral—hideous gargoyle—man seeks to rob—found dead—gargoyle’s jaw bloody.

77 Unspeakable dance of the gargoyles—in morning several gargoyles on old cathedral found transposed.

78 Wandering thro’ labyrinth of narrow slum streets—come on distant light—unheard-of rites of swarming beggars—like Court of Miracles in Notre Dame de Paris.

79 Horrible secret in crypt of ancient castle—discovered by dweller.

80 Shapeless living thing forming nucleus of ancient building.

81 Marblehead—dream—burying hill—evening—unreality.

82 Power of wizard to influence dreams of others.

1920

83 Quotation “. . . a defunct nightmare, which had perished in the midst of its wickedness, and left its flabby corpse on the breast of the tormented one, to be gotten rid of as it might.”—Hawthorne

84 Hideous cracked discords of bass musick from (ruin’d) organ in (abandon’d) abbey or cathedral.

85 “For has not Nature, too, her grotesques—the rent rock, the distorting lights of evening on lonely roads, the unveiled structure of man in the embryo, or the skeleton?”

Pater—Renaissance (da Vinci).

86 To find something horrible in a (perhaps familiar) book, and not to be able to find it again.

87 Borellus says, “that the Essential Salts of animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious man may have the whole ark of Noah in his own Study, and raise the fine shape of an animal out of its ashes at his pleasure; and that by the like method from the Essential Salts of humane dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal necromancy, call up the shape of any dead ancestor from the dust whereinto his body has been incinerated.” [Charles Dexter Ward]

88 Lonely philosopher fond of cat. Hypnotises it—as it were—by repeatedly talking to it and looking at it. After his death the cat evinces signs of possessing his personality. N.B. He has trained cat, and leaves it to a friend, with instructions as to fitting a pen to its right fore paw by means of a harness. Later writes with deceased’s own handwriting.

89 Lone lagoons and swamps of Louisiana—death daemon—ancient house and gardens—moss-grown trees—festoons of Spanish moss.

1922?

92 Man’s body dies—but corpse retains life. Stalks about—tries to conceal odour of decay—detained somewhere—hideous climax.

93 A place one has been—a beautiful view of a village or farm-dotted valley in the sunset—which one cannot find again or locate in memory.

94 Change comes over the sun—shews objects in strange form, perhaps restoring landscape of the past.

95 Horrible Colonial farmhouse and overgrown garden on city hillside—overtaken by growth. Verse “The House” as basis of story.

96 Unknown fires seen across the hills at night.

97 Blind fear of a certain woodland hollow where streams writhe among crooked roots, and where on a buried altar terrible sacrifices have occur’d—Phosphorescence of dead trees. Ground bubbles.

98 Hideous old house on steep city hillside—Bowen St.—beckons in the night—black windows—horror unnam’d—cold touch and voice—the welcome of the dead.

1923

99 Salem story—the cottage of an aged witch—wherein after her death are found sundry terrible things.

100 Subterranean region beneath placid New England village, inhabited by (living or extinct) creatures of prehistoric antiquity and strangeness.

101 Hideous secret society—widespread—horrible rites in caverns under familiar scenes—one’s own neighbour may belong.

102 Corpse in room performs some act—prompted by discussion in its presence. Tears up or hides will, etc.

104 Old sea tavern now far inland from made land. Strange occurrences—sound of lapping of waves—

105 Vampire visits man in ancestral abode—is his own father.

106 A thing that sat on a sleeper’s chest. Gone in morning, but something left behind.

1923

107 Wall paper cracks off in sinister shape—man dies of fright.

110 Antediluvian—Cyclopean ruins on lonely Pacific island. Centre of earthwide subterranean witch cult.

112 Man lives near graveyard—how does he live? Eats no food.

113 Biological-hereditary memories of other worlds and universes. Butler—God Known and Unk. p. 59.

114 Death lights dancing over a salt marsh.

115 Ancient castle within sound of weird waterfall—sound ceases for a time under strange conditions.

116 Prowling at night around an unlighted castle amidst strange scenery.

117 A secret living thing kept and fed in an old house.

1924

118 Something seen at oriel window of forbidden room in ancient manor house.

120 Talking bird of great longevity—tells secret long afterward.

123 Dried-up man living for centuries in cataleptic state in ancient tomb.

124 Hideous secret assemblage at night in antique alley—disperse furtively one by one—one seen to drop something—a human hand—

125 Man abandon’d by ship—swimming in sea—pickt up hours later with strange story of undersea region he has visited—mad??

126 Castaways on island eat unknown vegetation and become strangely transformed.

127 Ancient and unknown ruins—strange and immortal bird who speaks in a language horrifying and revelatory to the explorers.

128 Individual, by some strange process, retraces the path of evolution and becomes amphibious.

Dr. insists that the particular amphibian from which man descends is not like any known to palaeontology. To prove it, indulges in (or relates) strange experiment.

1925

129 Marble Faun p. 346—strange and prehistorick Italian city of stone.

131 Phosphorescence of decaying wood—called in New England “fox-fire”.

132 Mad artist in ancient sinister house draws things. What were his models? Glimpse.

133 Man has miniature shapeless Siamese twin—exhib. in circus—twin surgically detached—disappears—does hideous things with malign life of his own.

134 Witches’ Hollow novel? Man hired as teacher in private school misses road on first trip—encounters dark hollow with unnaturally swollen trees and small cottage (light in window?). Reaches school and hears that boys are forbidden to visit hollow. One boy is strange—teacher sees him visit hollow—odd doings—mysterious disappearance or hideous fate.

135 Hideous world superimposed on visible world—gate through—power guides narrator to ancient and forbidden book with directions for access.

136 A secret language spoken by a very few old men in a wild country leads to hidden marvels and terrors still surviving.

137 Strange man seen in lonely mountain place talking with great winged thing which flies away as others approach.

138 Someone or something cries in fright at sight of the rising moon, as if it were something strange.

140 Explorer enters strange land where some atmospheric quality darkens the sky to virtual blackness—marvels therein.

1926

141 Footnote by Haggard or Lang in “The World’s Desire”

“Probably the mysterious and indecipherable ancient books, which were occasionally excavated in old Egypt, were written in this dead language of a more ancient and now forgotten people. Such was the book discovered at Coptos, in the ancient sanctuary there, by a priest of the Goddess. ‘The whole earth was dark, but the moon shone all about the Book.’ A scribe of the period of the Ramessids mentions another in indecipherable ancient writing. ‘Thou tellest me thou understandest no word of it, good or bad. There is, as it were, a wall about it that none may climb. Thou art instructed, yet thou knowest it not; this makes me afraid.’

“Birch Zeitschrift 1871 pp. 61–64 Papyrus Anastasi I pl. X, l.8, pl. X l.4. Maspero, Hist. Anc. pp. 66–67.”

142 Members of witch-cult were buried face downward. Man investigates ancestor in family tomb and finds disquieting condition.

143 Strange well in Arkham country—water gives out (or was never struck —hole kept tightly covered by a stone ever since dug)—no bottom—shunned and feared—what lay beneath (either unholy temple or other very ancient thing, or great cave-world).

144 Hideous book glimpsed in ancient shop—never seen again.

145 Horrible boarding house—closed door never opened.

146 Ancient lamp found in tomb—when filled and used, its light reveals strange world.

147 Any very ancient, unknown, or prehistoric object—its power of suggestion—forbidden memories.

148 Vampire dog.

149 Evil alley or enclosed court in ancient city—Union or Milligan St.

150 Visit to someone in wild and remote house—ride from station through the night—into the haunted hills—house by forest or water—terrible things live there.

151 Man forced to take shelter in strange house. Host has thick beard and dark glasses. Retires. In night guest rises and sees host’s clothes about—also mask which was the apparent face of whatever the host was. Flight.

1928

153 Black cat on hill near dark gulf of ancient inn yard. Mew hoarsely—invites artist to nighted mysteries beyond. Finally dies at advanced age. Haunts dreams of artist—lures him to follow—strange outcome (never wakes up? or makes bizarre discovery of an elder world outside 3-dimensioned space?)

155 Steepled town seen from afar at sunset—does not light up at night. Sail has been seen putting out to sea.

156 Adventures of a disembodied spirit—thro’ dim, half-familiar cities and over strange moors—thro’ space and time—other planets and universes in the end.

157 Vague lights, geometrical figures, etc., seen on retina when eyes are closed. Caus’d by rays from other dimensions acting on optick nerve? From other planets? Connected with a life or phase of being in which person could live if he only knew how to get there? Man afraid to shut eyes—he has been somewhere on a terrible pilgrimage and this fearsome seeing faculty remains.

158 Man has terrible wizard friend who gains influence over him. Kills him in defence of his soul—walls body up in ancient cellar—BUT—the dead wizard (who has said strange things about soul lingering in body) changes bodies with him . . . leaving him a conscious corpse in cellar.

159 Certain kind of deep-toned stately music of the style of the 1870’s or 1880’s recalls certain visions of that period—gas-litten parlours of the dead, moonlight on old floors, decaying business streets with gas lamps, etc.—under terrible circumstances.

160 Book which induces sleep on reading—cannot be read—determined man reads it—goes mad—precautions taken by aged initiate who knows—protection (as of author and translator) by incantation.

161 Time and space—past event—150 yrs ago—unexplained. Modern period—person intensely homesick for past says or does something which is psychically transmitted back and actually causes the past event.

162 Ultimate horror—grandfather returns from strange trip—mystery in house—wind and darkness—grandf. and mother engulfed—questions forbidden—somnolence—investigation—cataclysm—screams overheard—

163 Man whose money was obscurely made loses it. Tells his family he must go again to THE PLACE (horrible and sinister and extra-dimensional) where he got his gold. Hints of possible pursuers—or of his possible non-return. He goes—record of what happens to him—or what happens at his home when he returns. Perhaps connect with preceding topic. Give fantastic, quasi-Dunsanian treatment.

164 Man observed in a publick place with features (or ring or jewel) identified with those of man long (perhaps generations) buried.

165 Terrible trip to an ancient and forgotten tomb.

166 Hideous family living in shadow in ancient castle by edge of wood near black cliffs and monstrous waterfall.

167 Boy rear’d in atmosphere of considerable mystery. Believes father dead. Suddenly is told that father is about to return. Strange preparations—consequences.

168 Lonely bleak islands off N.E. coast. Horrors they harbour—outpost of cosmic influences.

169 What hatches from primordial egg.

170 Strange man in shadowy quarter of ancient city possesses something of immemorial archaic horror.

1930

172 Pre-human idol found in desert.

173 Idol in museum moves in a certain way.

175 Little green Celtic figures dug up in an ancient Irish bog.

176 Man blindfolded and taken in closed cab or car to some very ancient and secret place.

177 The dreams of one man actually create a strange half-mad world of quasi-material substance in another dimension. Another man, also a dreamer, blunders into this world in a dream. What he finds. Intelligence of denizens. Their dependence on the first dreamer. What happens at his death.

178 A very ancient tomb in the deep woods near where a 17th century Virginia manor-house used to be. The undecayed, bloated thing found within.

179 Appearance of an ancient god in a lonely and archaic place—prob. temple ruin. Atmosphere of beauty rather than horror. Subtle handling—presence revealed by faint sound or shadow. Landscape changes? Seen by child? Impossible to reach or identify locale again?

182 In ancient buried city a man finds a mouldering prehistoric document in English and in his own handwriting, telling an incredible tale. Voyage from present into past implied. Possible actualisation of this.

183 Reference in Egyptian papyrus to a secret of secrets under tomb of high-priest Ka-Nefer. Tomb finally found and identified—trap door in stone floor—staircase, and the illimitable black abyss.

184 Expedition lost in Antarctic or other weird place. Skeletons and effects found years later. Camera films used but undeveloped. Finders develop—and find strange horror.

185 Scene of an urban horror—Sous le Cap or Champlain Sts.—Quebec—rugged cliff-face—moss, mildew, dampness—houses half-burrowing into cliff.

186 Thing from sea—in dark house, man finds doorknobs etc. wet as from touch of something. He has been a sea-captain, and once found a strange temple on a volcanically risen island.

1931

187 Dream of awaking in vast hall of strange architecture, with sheet-covered forms on slabs—in positions similar to one’s own. Suggestions of disturbingly non-human outlines under sheets. One of the objects moves and throws off sheet—non-terrestrial being revealed. Sugg. that oneself is also such a being—mind has become transferred to body on other planet.

188 Desert of rock—prehistoric door in cliff, in the valley around which lie the bones of uncounted billions of animals both modern and prehistoric—some of them puzzlingly gnawed.

189 Ancient necropolis—bronze door in hillside which opens as the moonlight strikes it—focussed by ancient lens in pylon opposite?

1932

190 Primal mummy in museum—awakes and changes place with visitor.

191 An odd wound appears on a man’s hand suddenly and without apparent cause. Spreads. Consequences.

1933

192 Thibetan ROLANG—Sorcerer (or NGAGSPA) reanimates a corpse by holding it in a dark room—lying on it mouth to mouth and repeating a magic formula with all else banished from his mind. Corpse slowly comes to life and stands up. Tries to escape—leaps, bounds, and struggles—but sorcerer holds it. Continues with magic formula. Corpse sticks out tongue and sorcerer bites it off. Corpse then collapses. Tongue become a valuable magic talisman. If corpse escapes—hideous results and death to sorcerer.

193 Strange book of horror discovered in ancient library. Paragraphs of terrible significance copies. Later unable to find and verify text. Perhaps discover body or image or charm under floor, in secret cupboard, or elsewhere. Idea that book was merely hypnotic delusion induced by dead brain or ancient magic.

194 Man enters (supposedly) own house in pitch dark. Feels way to room and shuts door behind him. Strange horrors—or turns on lights and finds alien place or presence. Or finds past restored or future indicated.

195 Pane of peculiar-looking glass from a ruined monastery reputed to have harboured devil-worship set up in modern house at edge of wild country. Landscape looks vaguely and unplaceably wrong through it. It has some unknown time-distorting quality, and comes from a primal, lost civilisation. Finally, hideous things in other world seen through it.

196 Daemons, when desiring an human form for evil purposes, take to themselves the bodies of hanged men.

197 Loss of memory and entry into a cloudy world of strange sights and experiences after shock, accident, reading of strange book, participation in strange rite, draught of strange brew, etc. Things seen have vague and disquieting familiarity. Emergence. Inability to retrace course.

1934

198 Distant tower visible from hillside window. Bats cluster thickly around it at night. Observer fascinated. One night wakes to find self on unknown black circular staircase. In tower? Hideous goal.

199 Black winged thing flies into one’s house at night. Cannot be found or identified—but subtle developments ensue.

200 Invisible Thing felt—or seen to make prints—on mountain top or other height, inaccessible place.

201 Planets form’d of invisible matter.

202 A monstrous derelict—found and boarded by a castaway or shipwreck survivor.

203 A return to a place under dreamlike, horrible, and only dimly comprehended circumstances. Death and decay reigning—town fails to light up at night—Revelation.

204 Disturbing conviction that all life is only a deceptive dream with some dismal or sinister horror lurking behind.

205 Person gazes out window and finds city and world dark and dead (or oddly changed) outside.

206 Trying to identify and visit the distant scenes dimly seen from one’s window—bizarre consequences.

207 Something snatched away from one in the dark—in a lonely, ancient, and generally shunned place.

208 (Dream of) some vehicle—railway train, coach, etc.—which is boarded in a stupor or fever, and which is a fragment of some past or ultra-dimensional world—taking the passenger out of reality—into vague, age-crumbled regions or unbelievable gulfs of marvel.

1935

209 Special Correspondence of NY Times—March 3, 1935

“Halifax, N.S.—Etched deeply into the face of an island which rises from the Atlantic surges off the S. coast of Nova Scotia 20 m. from Halifax is the strangest rock phenomenon which Canada boasts. Storm, sea, and frost have graven into the solid cliff of what has come to be known as Virgin’s Island an almost perfect outline of the Madonna with the Christ Child in her arms.

The island has sheer and wave-bound sides, is a danger to ships, and is absolutely uninhabited. So far as is known, no human being has ever set foot on its shores.”

210 An ancient house with blackened pictures on the walls—so obscured that their subjects cannot be deciphered. Cleaning—and revelation.

213 Ancient winter woods—moss—great boles—twisted branches—dark—ribbed roots—always dripping. . . .

214 Talking rock of Africa—immemorially ancient oracle in desolate jungle ruins that speaks with a voice out of the aeons.

215 Man with lost memory in strange, imperfectly comprehended environment. Fears to regain memory—a glimpse. . . .

216 Man idly shapes a queer image—some power impels him to make it queerer than he understands. Throws it away in disgust—but something is abroad in the night.

217 Ancient (Roman? prehistoric?) stone bridge washed away by a (sudden and curious?) storm. Something liberated which had been sealed up in the masonry of years ago. Things happen.

218 Mirage in time—image of long-vanish’d pre-human city.

219 Fog or smoke—assumes shaped under incantations.

220 Bell of some ancient church or castle rung by some unknown hand—a thing . . . or an invisible Presence.

#like wine through water #what do i even tag this as?

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