Richard and Leon were ramming the captain’s cabin door as hard as they could. Slamming, screaming, kicking with a desperate frenzy. Their shoulders were screaming in painful agony, but they didn’t give in until they broke the door. Somebody had to do this, and if not them… WHO? The crew was in total disarray, not far from mutiny. Ever since that rich booty they had struck on hitting the sinking regal galleon everything had gone downhill. Sure, there were gems, gold coins and exotic jewellery with beautiful engravings in a language never seen before, and everything in plenty for everybody, but what would it all be worth if they all died with a mad captain? Sure enough, as they feared, they found him still staring into that strange crystaline ball showing funny things. It had been 4 days, for God’s sake! It looked like he hadn’t ate or drank anything in all this time, just sat there… just sat there… just…
As the two grey haired men with incredibly expensive suits sat in the antechamber awaiting to see The Great Politician, they were getting more and more nervous. The older one was periodically wiping his sweat filled forehead with a golden embroidered handkerchief. They were THE two leaders of business and banking in their country, yet they both knew that the real power belonged to this diminutive man, the man who controlled men with guns who could destroy their empires in gunfire, and controlled the press in to every whim under state imperative. In a mixture of fear and boredom they would both repeatedly be looking at the big portrait painting that was dominating the great room. And as they did so, and as the minutes of waiting turned into hours, they started to get the feeling that the setting sun moving across it was revealing an underpainting, something much older and more frightening. Or maybe they were just going crazy.
The Dimension-0 ring hides under it’s beauty and shine a very dark secret indeed. For the gems it is a adorned with are no ordinary precious stones, but pieces from the volcanic explosions on mount Krara-rathou, the place where hundreds of slaves over centuries had been brought as living offerings, not to the volcano or nature (as some westerners still think with superiority), but to dark powers living deep in under the earth’s crust. It is said that the wearer is able to see with it The Overlapping Dimension. This perspective of his surroundings makes the wearer feel “enlightened”, first through the discovery, and then through the other-beings that talk to him in hi trances. Ultimately though all the wearers (mostly great kings) ended in insanity, no longer being able to interact with their own kind.
excerpt from the book
“Forbidden Lost Artifacts” – by Lugunarius Markhee
The Forgotten Catacombs had been built in the early years of the roman empire, then, as now, serving as a prison and experimentation facility for the handful of shadow beings from Beyond that were captured by mankind. The roman emperors who experienced the great millennial planetary alignment and the resultant horrors that seeped into our dimension were painfully a serious threat to their rule. That’s when the unholy alliance with the Anatherit warriors was done. It wasn’t an easy decision as these creatures where despicable abominations that put fear into the hearts of even the most veteran soldiers, but what won’t a ruler do to maintain his power? In fact this alliance worked surprisingly well for many many centuries. Indeed it worked so well that in just a few decades most of the mortals came to never have to encounter beyonders themselves, and over the centuries popular culture forgot of their existence. However, as humanity grew and prospered forgetting this ancient pact, the Anatherit became discontent and began to neglect their ancient horrible duties, leaving more and more inhumans to roam the mortal realms.
AnNichi Rebamael – Historian of the Forgotten
A lemplaj infestation advances slowly, very very slowly. It takes many weeks, months, sometimes even years until the disturbing biomass conquers a usable habitat. This however doesn’t make it less terrifying, as the realization of the inhabitants has time to settle in and all attempts of stopping it fail, be it in slow motion but still irreversible ways. Feeding on all kinds of biological mass, not just plant and animal life but many a brave knight has unwilling fed it to a new explosion. The same driver growing it also kills it off though, as it runs out of nutrient it eventually dies out leaving behind only little red spore formations. Cursed is the fool who would want to collect such spores.
For generations all the inhabitants of the small isolated mountain village of Nigaggua had known to avoid the great cavern upriver from them. Maybe it was common sense. Maybe it was tragic experiences long forgotten even by collective memory. Either way, they knew enough not to try to explore it, and to ignore the occasional otherworldly screams that occasionally came from there. Not so the group of 10 tourists that came that weekend. They were never heard of them again…
“Seeing” into 5 and 6 dimensional space was NOT the problem. He had told those fools at the military this many many times, and brought incontrovertible evidence that his formulas were correct. The problem was the complex mathematics required to process the data thus obtained and make any sense of it for the frail human minds. They had argued that it would require taxing the masses very heavily indeed to build a computing machine as powerful as he had asked for, and were about to cancel his beloved morbid baby project, but then some older glory hungry generals (of the type fearful that this would be their last chance at greatness) came to his rescue by dangling the threat that some other country would get this before them, and plus the high technology jobs thus created, so he got the funds. 5 years, an imperial fortune and a few hundred burned out top scientists later, he had his machine and today was the day when they would use it for the first time. The audience was filled with elder statesmen when the first 5 dimensional project appeared. It was later not easy to then explain to the curious newspapers how such a large group of top officials could all have a heart attack at the same time, but with some diversions and story alterations it worked in the end. The project was cancelled and buried. Deep. Very very very deep.
The few ever seen by mortals, were described like a mass of bones fused as if in great heat and polished eternally by wriggling black threads that lurk under the skin. It is speculated that they improbably rise in the rare event that an asteroid from the heavens hits a mass/pile of bone (or creates one?), and are somehow the result of an alien consciousness either taking possession of them or bringing them to life with a fused will.
And then in the twirls of thickening darkness I started seeing a shape, no more of them, feeding upon the soul-remains of the depths. I remembered then of my master’s teachings and realized I was seeing the bottom feeder beings known as Deepscourers. Remembering that was fortunate, as otherwise I might’ve let myself be deceived by it’s benign looking, almost peaceful outlook and gotten closer, risking being mistaken for a damned soul and being mercilessly fed upon.
“The nightmare traveler journals” by Ruberti Markun
To be honest it surprised her that nobody commented on the huge and very peculiar stone sticking out of the river as they passed by it. Any other day she would have made a big deal out of this, but given the shocked state in which the whole team still was after the earlier life threatening events, she tried to shrug it off and just forget about it. But for some reason however she discovered she just couldn’t and she kept wondering about the face she (thought she?) saw stuck/emerging/transformed/captive in the stone. What strange epithets to use. It was just a stone. Surely!She was ashamed of herself for thinking like that, after all maybe it was just some natural rock formation, an accident of the weather corrosion, or maybe who some kind of long forgotten meaningless sculpture. Why was she still thinking about it!?!? It had been more than an hour now. And not like she didn’t have the opportunity to raise the issue: everybody was silently walking along in shocked exhaustion, with only the quiet hum of those annoying mosquitoes to be heard. She could’ve said something! Did nobody else notice it? Was it too late to tell them how it made her feel? Would she just make a fool of herself? And why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? And then there were these other thoughts…
In the middle of the cavern was a white glowing almost milky liquid that would gradually thin into the thickness of a glowing fog. At first I noticed an ominous shadow swimming a few centimeters underneath, but then it rose and broke the reluctant surface only to emerge and start slowly lifting into the center of the lake like a majestic living chitinous column.
In the frightening depths of oceans, where no human has ever been except in nightmarish dark visions, there where horrible ancient creatures still swim undisturbed as they have for millions of years, the Aqueroyel is king among the underwater demons through a mixture of savage violence and unfading old magic from beyond. Only a true madman, consumed by all absorbing power hunger, could ever even conceive challenging him in his domain.
“Etheral Bureaucrats of the outer dimensions, the Branded Observariusoid float between universes and time, capturing all sorts of esoteric knowledge for unknown nefarious purposes. Scholars have speculated they centralize and coordinate it but nobody I’ve ever talked with has an even half credible guess as to whom they could be reporting to.”
from the private notes of Archimedius the 3rd, Great Scholar of the Unknown
By my third week of captivity I have realized that what I initially took to be a bunch of mindless giant insectoid beasts was far more than that, that it was a society, complete with social norms, cultures and an intricate religion. From my strangely manufactured cage I had now seen how three times a day a “chosen one” would be elected by group consensus and it would have what I can only assume was the honour of getting to carry their idol/deity through the community, to the great reverence of the others (one day I observed the individual for the whole next day and he seemed to have temporary higher privileges as a result). This moment was apparently of great sanctity, not to be disturbed, as unfortunately some of my fellow prisoners had learned. Normally nobody seemed to pay attention to us in preparation for some great ritual, BUT, anybody who spoke louder than a whisper during the procession was promptly silenced… forever. I write these things down in the journal today also, in the hope that when the great ceremony happens and if I am right I will be taken away they will ignore this little leather bound notebook and then after the next migration somebody of my own species will find it and learn something from it, that it may not be too late for them also and they may learn from our mistakes.
——— from “The lost notebook” ———