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Wednesday, May 13th, 2009
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3rd January, 1930
On a sleeper train now. It turned out we could either get on tonight or wait until tomorrow, and since we’re anxious to get started (and not so anxious to stick around after all the fishy situations we found ourselves in during the day today), we chose the sleeper. We’ll be taking a train tomorrow at noon to Marseilles.
We’ll have a few hours to kill, but that should give us time to get all the supplies we need together and prepare for the long trip ahead.
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3rd January, 1930
Well, it looks as though we’re heading to Tibet.
Our research today was fruitful, although we managed to turn a relatively mundane task into an ultimately dangerous one.
The first thing we looked up was Professor Anzelloni. It turns out he was the head of the department of Asian history. We found a clipping about an expedition to Bombay and the Himalayas; he was apparently looking for Tibetan artifacts. Anzelloni was heading the group. He also seemed to be hoping to rediscover a place called Gungthang which is the capital of Jiwakhar. Otherwise we know he’s currently employed in the 915th Century Palace University Building.
I moved on from there to look up Kali Gandaki Gorge. It’s a geological feature that runs though the Himalayas. Going all the way through actually has you cross the border. Although it was originally formed by water, it’s likely not to be full of water now. It’s a path that Anzelloni and his group were likely to have taken.
My research on Mustang and Vivian’s research on Drakmar brought us both to the same book: “1845 History of Tibet and Nepal”. It’s apparently an ancient, isolated Himalayan Kingdom in northern Nepal. It’s often not known, not even to Napoli. It’s not mentioned in almost any text, including the Encyclopedia Britannica. And the proper name isn’t Drakmar or Mustang, it’s Namthang, but it’s often misreferenced and mispronounced. Kali Gandaki Gorge is a major feature of this kingdom. The river that flowed is now modest and low. We also found a lot of history about the control and politics of the area.
The area rose to foremost power in the early 15th Century. It became such a power very quickly (practically overnight) by a man named Ampeal. His three sons ruled after his death, and after theirs, in the 16th Century, it lost its power just as quickly as it came. It was practically forgotten. A later reference was to a man named Amipal. He made peace with nomads from Drakmar and then slaughtered them all. All of this seemed pretty appropriate if Quarrie and/or Anzelloni were heading there for an expedition. It fit the profile, similarly to other places we’ve been drawn in to.
That’s all the information we could find in the University library. We headed to Mr. Anzelloni’s office next. We spoke to a man named Paulo Bocci who showed us some pictures, including one of Anzelloni and a man named Carlo Schippone. He also told us the general direction of the expedition and what steps it would take to get there. That was all the information he said was open to the general public. He seemed nice but suspicious. I can’t imagine why…
We discussed the situation and decided that we needed an excuse to take the same expedition. Here’s where we almost got ourselves arrested. We decided to forge a letter from Mr. Anzelloni requesting a geological consultant. To do this, I ended up getting into the private section of the library to copy Anzelloni’s signature from an existing letter. I convinced the clerk to allow me to look at Anzelloni’s private letters about Asian history in relation to Astronomy.
But Vivian couldn’t just leave well enough alone. She snuck in behind me to poke around for more information. She did turn up some interesting things. The goal to find the city, a plan to send in an excavation team once it’s found, and most of the funding comes from the fascist government (Mussolini) rather than the university. But none of that was important enough to risk getting caught. She did find a reference of Carlo Schippone being part of the expedition team. Fortunately, I was able to distract the clerk long enough for Vivian to slip out again. We left as quickly as we could without looking suspicious (hopefully), and headed back here.
Vivian forged the letter and then went back out to deliver it to Mr. Bocci. She also learned the fourth member of the team is a Richardo DeNegro, although he’s a member of the fascist party. They forced him into the group, I assume to keep their interests in mind.
We’re about to be on our way back to Thomas Cooke & Sons. They may not have had useful information, but we’re going to use them to book the soonest transport to Bombay.
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2nd January, 1930
We started to follow our leads today. We had two main places to start Thomas Cooke & Son and Navigli. Our guide (a Mr. Paulo Tuminardo) arrived early and we headed out with him to Thomas Cooke & Son first. Unfortunately we got almost no good information there. It turns out that Quarrie likely only used them as a mail service, but they had no other information; not even a forwarding address.
So we headed quickly to Navigli. It was a dilapidated area with no other motorists. It was dingy but busy with foot traffic and workers. Once we finally found the place, we weren’t encouraged. It said only “OFFICE” on the door and looked just as bad as the rest of the town. There was a clerk at the front desk and he seemed irritable and sour. Along with him, in front of the desk, was another man with a much different temperament. He was genial and seemed amused.
We start up a conversation, asking about Quarrie and he began to tell us that while he publicly was “going to Tibet”, he was really on a pilgrimage. At this point we were interrupted by the clerk who ranted a bit about idiots, drinks, Villiers, Quarrie, and other garbled things until he stormed out.
After he left we learned that the kind man’s name was Mr. Villiers. He led us into his flat upstairs to continue discussing Mr. Quarrie. Inside we notice that he’s a painter, set up all around are easels, painting equipment, sketches, finished and unfinished projects, and tarps. It turned out that Mr. Villiers and Quarrie are old friends from when they both lived in London. They were also both part of a group called the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign.
Mr. Villiers thought Mr. Quarrie a brilliant man. It was through his research and a connection to a man named Anzelloni that they were introduced to the Brotherhood. It seemed that their beliefs started with the idea that the Gnostics got things muddled and that there was another god. That there was a trinity, but one much different from the one widely accepted. In this case “the god”, an acolyte called “the King”, and “the stranger”.
Mr. Villiers seemed to be getting slightly more unhinged the longer we spoke. Alexander took a slip of paper from one of the easels (one we later saw to say things like Dracmar, Hastur, Stranger, Springer Mound, etc.), but Mr. Villiers saw him. He started rambling something loudly, ran out the door and locked us in.
Soon we found ourselves ambushed by a byakhee. We barely scraped by but ultimately were able to kill it. We did a quick search of the room before getting out. I took a byakhee whistle, a fountain pen, and a few notebooks I found to examine later. We barely get out without drawing attention to ourselves. We managed to blend into a crowd forming outside and acted appropriately shocked, which was easy after that encounter.
Eventually we made our way back here to the hotel. Alexander was really hurt though so we needed to call in a doctor. The police were here asking some questions, but they seemed convinced of what we said. Back in our room we examined the sheet Alexander took further. It mentioned an “angel” behind the King, which we took to mean a byakhee. It also mentioned Nepal as an important location.
We plan to do a research day tomorrow. We’ll be getting Mr. Tuminardo to take us to the University library. Hopefully we’ll be able to plan our next step then.
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1st January, 1930
Not much to report after this morning. I woke up Alexander in hopes that he could get me more information. I don’t know why I keep putting faith in his ability as a reporter. He made a nuisance of himself with the cops. I’m surprised they didn’t arrest him. Still, he did find out that it was another murder in a series of similar.
I still felt something strange coming from that alley. But I couldn’t really bother with it. We had to get underway and even as we were leaving for the aerodrome, there were still police around; I never would have gotten a look.
We got onto the aeroplane just fine. We’re switching to sleeper train in a few hours and should arrive in Milan at around 2:30 in the morning. We’ll get some sleep and then start investigating tomorrow.
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1st January, 1930
I find myself sitting here staring out the window of Amelia's a couple of hours before our flight completely helpless and a little frightened. I dreamt of Carcosa tonight, but not the way I would have hoped and it felt nothing like a dream until I woke up.
I set my alarm for the flight in the morning before going to sleep, but I woke up on my own to a masked figure standing over my bed. I tried to scream but realized I couldn't. As my eyes adjusted I realized it was Yolanda. She looked at me a gestured for me to follow, so I did. She lead me through the house and out the door (I didn't put any clothes on and I'm barefoot walking through London, but this hardly occurs to me at the time and I'm not cold). As we walk past a close by alley I think I can hear something coming from it. We keep walking and I feel completely safe following Yolanda.
We walk to the University and while that's halfway across the city, it felt like no time at all. She leads me to a shed on campus that I've seen hundreds of times before but never really noticed. When we get inside I see this archway on the other end and realize that I'm looking out into Carcosa. Yolanda steps through the doorway and beckons for me to follow still. I do but I'm very careful to make sure I keep my eyes locked on her; I remember how it works here. She leads me through the city in a seemingly random way but I know we'll find what she's looking for. Much of the scenery is new to me, although I do see the occasional familiar area which seems a bit odd. Eventually Yolanda is leading me through alleys and between buildings where the spaces are getting tighter and tighter. Soon I have to squeeze sideways just to get through and then I find myself in the courtyard. Yolanda goes over and sits on the bench and looks at me.
Me: How did I get here?
She shrugs and then points behind me.
Me: If I turn around, you won't be here when I turn back.
She shrugs. So I start to walk to the back of the bench so I can look but still have my eyes on her. She immediately shakes her head as if to say, 'No. It doesn't work that way.' So I reluctantly but curiously turn around to see nothing. When I turn back, Yolanda is gone, but Nos is in her place. This is relieving.
"Hello Nos!"
"Welcome back! Strange time you've decided to visit!" He looks anxious. Not as jubilant as I'm used to. Almost tense. "How did you get here?"
"Well, I'm not sure. Yolanda brought me. She showed up in my bedroom."
"Ahhh. I understand."
"So how are things here."
"Well...let me show you something." He gets up and walks towards me.
He carefully and reassuringly puts his hand on my shoulder (which warms me at my core) and turns me around. Now, instead of the wall behind me, the courtyard is overlooking Carcosa; I can see the whole city. Only now do I realize that when Yolanda lead me through, there was no one. Nothing happening. I was used to seeing only shadows in the windows and missing groups of people passing a corner and then vanishing. But there were always people, even if just glimpses. When we were walking, there was _no_one_. Now, however, was much different. The whole city was alive. Much of the city was practically in ruins, many of the buildings on fire, and all around I could see those creatures like the one we'd killed in the basement. They were destroying everything. The castle was the only thing practically untouched, but they were working their way in.
"So as you can see..."
"How did this happen?"
"I don't really know. Chaos, we're used to. We revolve around it. Our whole city is built on it. The King in Yellow comes, but we regenerate, rebuild; it's how it works. But there are people on your world that try to interfere, and, well. The first time was at the lake; the last time you were here. Now this. Normally we deal with it and everything's back eventually. But this time...they only keep coming and we're...it's difficult."
"Is there anything you can do?"
"Well, we deal with it in our own way." He takes my shoulder again and turns me to the right. There's a small stage set up with two people in all white robes and white masks holding sabres. In between them is a mock up of one of those creatures hanging by a rope. Simultaneously they pierce into the creature and the rope immediately falls away. They turn and take a bow. Nos takes my shoulder and turns me back around.
"So, as you can see..."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well, I don't think so. Seeing as you're not really here..."
"Not here...?"
"Although you did choose such a strange time to come. And in such an impermanent way..."
"Is there something I can do from earth, maybe stop whoever sent these creatures here?"
"You could maybe tell them to stop bothering with us? Leave the King in Yellow alone? Although, you know much more about our world then we know of yours..."
Suddenly Nos' face froze and tensed. I could see his eyes widen behind his mask and he was looking behind me. I turned around to see a circular iron grate on the opposite wall. Inside was one of those creatures. As we watched, it pulled out a weapon, pointed it at the grate, and the grate... sort of dissipated? I pulled for a weapon and got my mauser. I pointed and started shooting. I was hitting but it wasn't doing any damage. The creature knew I was hitting it, though. It started to crawl towards us. As I looked back, Nos was there flanked by the two actors from before, all of them holding sabres out in front of them. Now instead of pure white the masks had red patterns running through them. Nos told me to run, so I did.
As I was running I eventually found I couldn't move anymore. I was in a corridor staring at a wall in front of me with all sorts of geometric shapes carved into it. Soon I found that I was moving but I wasn't controlling it. I found myself moving through a square corridor. When we emerged from the corridor I found I was on a completely gray planet, cold and hard. I could see a moon in my view with symbols and shapes all over it. I realized then that I was seeing things from the perspective of one of those bug creatures.
We started moving and I realized he was flying (not sure how; I assume he had wings), all the time trying not to look too hard at the moon. We got to another wall with ruins written all over it. He spent a good chunk of time staring at a certain passage of the wall that he'd traced with his finger and chanting something in the same tones I'd heard one of them use in the basement back at Amelia's. I assume he was reading the wall.
After he finished, there was this horrible noise, so horrible it heard. I wanted to scream but I couldn't. Soon I found that we were in another corridor, this one round. We walked through until coming to an iron gate where we could see a man and a woman standing past it. He pulled out a weapon, pointed it at the grate, it dissipated, and he started crawling out. That's when I woke up at Amelia's again.
I was completely shaken and it's not too long until we need to be up and moving anyway. Two years ago I may have tried desperately to seep again in hopes of finding out what happened, but I know better. I may never know. But I have to try to help them. It's even more important to succeed in Milan. I just...I have to worry exactly what I did when I brought that one here. Is it a coincidence? I hope so. Is Quarrie doing this in some way? I have to try to stop it. Nos told me that humans are always interfering, causing this.
Hm. Looks like there's something going on across the street in that alley...same alley as in my dream. Well, I'll write more on the plane.
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26th December, 1929
Christmas just hasn’t seemed the same since we started all of this. It’s odd, but it feels so foreign to me now. Harrison and I spent the holiday with my father. It was nice to see the whole family. I can tell the two of them are still uneasy about my trip, and Harrison has been hinting that he really wouldn’t get in the way if he came along, at least to get me settled. It’s been all I can do to distract him.
Besides the fact that he would be in the way, he also doesn’t know who all is coming with, and he’s ask too many questions. Plus, I don’t plan to have anything to do with the telescope anyway. I can’t imagine what’s going to happen if I return. Father will be furious that I clearly lied to him and have no idea what I intended in Milan if not for the telescope. Also he’ll have spent all that money.
And Harrison… it does hurt me to think what he’ll feel if he realizes I’ve lied. What they’ll both think of me… Of course, if all goes well, it won’t matter to me, and if it doesn’t it either still won’t matter or I’ll likely be removing myself completely to try again.
Anyway, Harrison’s taking me on holiday for the rest of the week. We’ll be returning early on Sunday, just in time for me to prepare for the trip on Monday.
I’ve decided to only bring a few things with me. Essentials, of course, clothes, my English translation of “The King in Yellow”, my English edition of “Walker By the Lake”, my “British Gods: Religion and Myth in the Western Kingdoms of Anglo-Saxon Britain”, a copy of the “Carcosa” play, my firearms, enough money to last, and my byakhee whistle. Everything else I’ve already locked in my safe at home. My precious journal included. It documents a lot of what’s been going on, so if anything happens, maybe Harrison will learn to understand. Nothing really keeping him from going through it sooner, I’ll be leaving the key with him, but I don’t want to risk it getting lost if I do.
Amelia has even left the relevant things to us all in succession, just in case. It’s strange, really, and feels sort of final. Part of me hopes it’s as final as it seems. Still, it’s strange to say goodbye.
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21st December, 1929
I spent the day with Harrison yesterday. We went out for much of the day and took in a show in the evening. He seemed pleased but surprised to get the whole day with me. So Amelia and I did some research at the British museum today.
Nothing turned up on Nug or Yeb but when researching Ithaqua it became clear that it’s simply and alternate name for Glaaki. There were references up to the mid 19th century about Ithaqua being related to a lake in Britain, and around the same time it began showing up in references to a lake in New Guinea. But it doesn’t seem to be restricted to one place, so it very well may have staying in Severn Valley but also been referenced in other parts of the world. There were many scattered references, sometimes at the same time, throughout the world, but usually it was focused in one area.
Next we looked up Cthulhu and got a load of references to the name. He seems to be as close to mainstream as we’ve gotten with reference to all these creatures. He’s described as octopoid in nature, gigantic and sleeping somewhere under the sea, mostly noted in the Pacific, although some references implied he was in the Baltic Sea. We found many descriptions of apocalyptic cults based around him and some odd links between him and Hastur.
That’s all we really had time for today and any other research we want to do will likely have to wait for if we get back to London.
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19th December, 1929
I spoke to my father today and he’s going to help me commission a new telescope to be built in Milan. And while I’m sure I’ll enjoy the benefits of that, it’s really only an excuse to go to Milan. That’s our next destination and I wasn’t sure how else to convince him. The real trouble was convincing daddy and Harrison that I wanted to go alone. Well, go without Harrison. I really am fond, but there’s no way he’d understand any of this and he’d only end up getting hurt. Especially if I find what I’m hoping to.
We plan to leave on the first of January, so I’m planning to spend some decent time with father and Harrison in the coming weeks, make sure they’re well convinced of my well-being and decision. Of course I’ll have to spend some full days in the library; otherwise they’ll be even more suspicious.
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18th December, 1929
On the train now, heading back to London and I think we’re all a bit sick of each other. Or maybe we’re just tired. Or maybe it’s just me. This morning I woke up relatively early feeling not at all rested. Amelia was completely out and looked stressed, even during sleep. When I concentrated on her I could see from the perspective of a little girl grabbing a book and some papers and run away. I think it was Amelia as a child. Not sure what it meant, but it may be part of what she’s so stressed about. I checked to make sure she was breathing okay and figured I’d let her sleep and check on her a little later.
I felt better after some breakfast and eventually Amelia did join us. She didn’t eat anything though and still looked very pale. We talked to Hilary who invites us to stay until the next bus but seems pretty adamant about wanting us to go then. We took the time to look through the library. I found a bunch of names related to my research of Glaaki and the Forest of Dean. Sethagua, Ithaqua, Cthulhu, Nug, Uch, Tsethagua, Yeb. Not a lot of information on most of them, so maybe the library at home will give me more.
I did find a bunch about Sethagua. He’s sort of an enormous creature with fur and toadish features. He can take other forms, though. Most of the imagery and description always had him sitting. A lot of references to him being one of the least powerful of the “old ones”; they allow him his cult and freedoms. There was much reference to the book of Iban, which I plan to try to find. But the majority of what I found was about those that worship him, rather than details about him. He’s been worshiped by medieval groups, ancient Hyperbonia, ancient Greeks, and furthest back by a group from Cybranosh.
That’s all I was able to find before leaving. Hilary asked us to tell her husband that their daughter will grow up loving her father it we ever find him and with that, we were on our way back to Clotton. While it still seems deserted we did see a small boy and realized why; his face is goat-like, so likely so are the people of the town. We waited as unobtrusively as we could for the bus and now we’ve just been traveling. We should get into London by around 1:00 AM. Hopefully sleep tonight will be better than last.
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17th December, 1929
I suppose I should feel the events of today were successful, although I’d never have guessed the goal and I only feel more anxious. This is all getting deeper and darker, but not completely in the direction I want to go. I have half a mind to start off on my own, to focus, but I doubt I could do it on my own. I need their help. And not that I’m not fond of the group, I just doubt our interests are square.
The day started out normal enough. We got onto our bus in the morning and the driver, a Mr. Fallon, was a Gloucester man. He was friendly if a bit sullen. As we were leaving a strange woman forced her way late onto the bus, whispered to him something about a ministry or minister and then, glowering the whole time, took a seat.
The road to Clotton was very narrow and we skipped some of the stops, I assume out of lack or passengers. After a while the road signs stopped and it was more like driving over uneven dirt than road. We passed many small pockets of houses, maybe twelve or fifteen each, all with churches. At one of these later small towns, the strange woman got off the bus. The next little hamlet turned out to be Clotton; it was about 10:00 by this point. The bus driver told us he’s always here at 10:00 AM and 6:00 PM daily. He seemed wary of us staying but left just the same.
Clotton looked completely deserted. There was a building which looked like it had once been a church, most of the houses looked abandoned and neglected. But one house had smoke coming from the chimney. We saw some signs of life, heard some whispering, but no one would come out or open their doors. I’m guessing they don’t like visitors either out of prejudice or nerves. Ultimately we just moved on; Clotton wasn’t where we wanted to be anyway.
On our way to Lower Clotton we saw some farming equipment along with some sheep and a farm hand, the first person we’d actually seen. After noticing us he seemed startled and started away from us. We noticed that all the sheep had been marked for ownership by what I'm not sure was a goat's head. A little way’s forward we saw the forest that would bring us to Merry Hill. It wasn’t on any map we’ve seen, which, after seeing it in person, is surprising. It’s huge and menacing, almost protruding into the farmland. Inside, though, it was calm and quiet but for minor signs of animal life.
The trees and plant life were very lush and sort of filling in all around, barely allowing the path. It was dim due to the density and sometimes difficult to see. The path was all that kept us on course. Eventually we all realized there was a strange hum in the air; constant and powerful, never seeming to get closer or father away. About probably halfway through we saw someone in the woods, a hunched man, very hairy, knees bent the wrong way, with goat-like features. While I’ve ready passages about saytrs before, I never thought to see anything like it literally. Usually half goat half humans are representative of fertility gods.
We kept going but I kept an eye to see if he was following, all the while my hand on my revolver. It seemed clear that the people in the area were likely saytr worshippers, and if what I was seeing was real, they seem to be partially turning into saytrs. I figured this was likely the case with Gresty and Atkinson.
Once we left the woods I noticed that the humming had stopped and a looming headache I’d developed had gone away. After doing some checking it was clear that the humming was connected to being in the forest. Amelia and I explored the forest near out exit a bit to see if we could find a source or anything strange. The only thing odd was that there seemed to be so much lush forest and an overabundance of animal life. Vivian confirmed that the plant life seems to have grown impossibly fast; fifty year old trees that grew in a matter of fifteen.
As we explored we saw a couple of disturbed (probably by us) stone circles in the path, possibly as a part of a ritual of some kind. I examined some goat and foot prints we found seeing the human print much more weathered whereas the goat prints were fresher and relatively new.
Ultimately we made our way out of the forest. I was more curious about the wood, but I think partially we were all stalling for time, having no idea how to be prepared for whatever was ahead, or what we even needed to prepare for.
Between the two hills we saw a farm, and across atop the other hill was a group of goat-like people talking, and coming from there was a group of two people, one a man, one a woman, and three dogs with them. We saw that the man was Gresty and the woman was Hilary Quarrie. He was furiously speaking to Hilary. Gresty eventually left her alone and stormed up the hill to the others; all of them disappeared to the other side of that hill. Hilary retreated into the house after he left and the dogs followed. A few minutes later she reappeared and set a whole bunch of papers on fire then turned back again. This time we approached her and the house. The dogs were not happy.
When Hilary reappeared, she yelled at the dogs to be quiet, which they obeyed, and then threw another book in the flames (I think it said “Glaaki” on the cover). Once we got to talking she said she has no idea where her husband is, and hasn’t seen him since Christmas of 1924. She explained that Atkinson and Gresty are part of the same cult worshiping Shub-Niggaroth (saytr god), and that Gresty wants to be “next” after Atkinson dies, which Hilary thinks is a bad idea. She also seemed to think that after today either she or Gresty would be dead.
We decided to stay and help her. I was hoping to also see if there were any other papers she hadn’t gotten to destroy that would help is figure out where to go from here. She explained further that Gresty was angry before because he was trying to claim Hilary as his own, which she refused. She also told us a little about Glaaki. Apparently he’s sort of the local equivalent of Shub-Niggaroth (whose known more worldwide). The book she burned was a collections of memoirs of people who gave their bodies to Glaaki to gain power and insight from him.
We were interrupted then by some townspeople outside carrying pitchforks. They seem to be on Hilary’s side. After she spoke to them, they left and she came back in and seemed to have been sobbing. We all rested for a few hours, not sure what was coming for when we woke up, but I didn’t really have time to think when I was awoken abruptly by the dogs barking. Outside, there was a bonfire with the group of goat-like people from before, along with Gresty, and they were moving around it chanting. One man was hitting another.
Hilary came out, told us to grab a chicken and hold it over our heads, and one by one, she came to each of us with a knife, saying something different at each, cutting the chicken’s throat, and having us repeat the phrase. In the moment, even with the shock and terror, this felt far too normal. We could hear something crashing towards us from the woods, but Hilary insisted we stay put.
A huge…something came out of the woods, still towards us, but as Hilary killed the last chicken, she spoke to it, telling it to go back, kill those who summoned it, and then return to its mother. The ground shook and we heard screaming from where the bonfire was, then we felt the ground again as the creature retreated further into the woods.
It must have been minutes before I realized Hilary had turned and walked back inside. When we joined her, she was muttering that she “won”; she seemed relieved. She thanked us and told us to stay here for the night, but that we should be leaving by morning. She told us that now we were safe.
Well, to be honest, I was feeling the opposite of safe. And I couldn’t sleep. Amelia and I did some poking around. We found some fragments of papers and such, but little legible from the fire. We checked the hill and it was now deserted; we couldn’t find any signs of the life that had been so foreign and threatening before. Hilary had gone to sleep in the library so there was no chance for us to look around there until tomorrow.
In her room we found the knife she used for the ritual and a piece of paper, possibly also from the ritual. I copied it down so I can study it and research later. It’s the full verse of what she said during the ritual before. By concentrating I could see a goat-like townsman forging the blade and cutting a saytrs arm. I put the paper and knife back and came down to sleep.
But I still couldn’t get there. I just had to get all this down. It’s the longest day I’ve had in a while, but I feel wide awake. I suppose now I should try to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long trip back, hopefully all the way back to London.
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16th December, 1929
I’m not feeling so good about this trip anymore. Not that it was ever warm and fuzzy feeling.
We took our train to Gloucester today. We asked some of the locals about Merry Hill and were met with discomfort and ultimately rumors about inbreeding and goats. Everyone in Gloucester thinks the people from Merry Hill are rude.
Apparently they almost never travel and certainly no distances of consequence. Overall it seemed mostly the stuff of rumors and legends, but while they were sometimes joking, they all believed it. Every word they were saying. And after all I’ve seen over the last two years, I believe it, too.
Tomorrow we take a bus to Clotton, which is the closest we can get to Merry Hill by public transport. After that, we’re on foot. I should probably get some sleep. Maybe dreaming will cheer me up.
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Saturday, July 22nd, 2006
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December 17th, 1928
Carcosa. Just thinking the name makes me shiver, still. Carcosa.
I can't believe we were actually there. I've slept the majority of the last several days just hoping to at least dream about it. When I wake up, I cry.
We left on Sunday. We were just supposed to check out the hunting lodge. On our way up the path (which was long and frozen over), we encountered that dirigible thing from my vision. It didn't attack us and we were able to take it down. Although Vivian, in her explosives-happy state, almost blew herself up in the process. When we reached the end of the lake where the lodge was located, we noticed two other cars parked, but no noticable activity. Between us and the lodge was an arch. A large, marble arch that hadn't been there when we first looked.
Walking towards it, a heavy mist spread around us, and as it lifted, we weren't in the same place anymore. There were buildings everywhere, lining either side of the street we were on. The arch was still in front of us, and the Loch had disappeared.
We were in Carcosa, and it was now twilight (it had been daytime when we'd reached the edge of the Loch).
It was beautiful. On either side of us was a stretch of buildings (made of marble) connected to each other (no alleys or the like) that seemed to be residences. The bottom floor of each contained no windows or entrances; it seemed like the entrances were on the second level of each. There was a fence that stood several feet high that ran in front of the houses built from hand-made grating. In front of us, it seemed the arch we'd seen was growing out of that fence. On top was an ornate statue of two lions fighting. The gate was wide open. Behind us was more city; same on either side of the arch.
Curiously, when I turned back, the arch had completely changed. It was much smaller and less threatening. Instead of marble it was now made of beaten gold, and on top there was a statue of some kind of bird-headed dog creature. I went through the gate and studied the houses. As we looked on, people (Carcosans) appeared in high windows, speaking jovially and laughing. At one point, one of them pointed to the street, and when I looked, I saw the Stranger walking away. He looked exactly as I've seen him described and depicted in the play.
The people disappeared as quickly as they had appeared in the windows. All of them were wearing masks, and not speaking English. That didn't seem to matter, though.
When I turned back to the arch it had, again, changed. It was more of a small tower, now, with a regular wooden door at the bottom. There was a fire burning on the roof. I turned back and went inside. It was a simple room with a chair or something. Most interesting was on the wall. Pegged up were three masks. One gold, one red, one purple. I took the red and put it on; Amelia took the purple, then I took the purple to hand off to Vivian.
As I continued on, ahead of us I noticed a gap in the buildings. We reached a river with a very narrow bridge connecting the two sides. On the other side, it seemed the buildings resumed the same. I crossed the bridge with no trouble, but I heard Amelia yelling something to Vivian who had apparently fallen off. We couldn't see her anywhere, even once she'd swum to our side, and she was insisting that there was no bridge anymore even though we could see it plainly.
I tried to keep going to see what was beyond the next bend (of which we'd seen few of so far), but Amelia distracted me and said we should stay to find Vivian. Well, bloody good that did because when I turned back towards the bridge it was an ampitheater. And when I tried to turn around again, there was a building in my way. So much for that bend.
So the two of us went towards the ampitheater. It was huge, but completely empty from what we could tell. I walked towards the stage (which was set with some very basic props and back drop) and from the corner of my eye saw the glint of a gun coming from behind a column. A shot rang out. I ran to get closer to the stage, and Amelia and I managed to get him to stop shooting. He insisted he'd only started because we were wearing masks, and couldn't we feel how dangerous the Carcosans are? Clearly not a well man.
He was very nervous looking, short hair, hadn't shaved for days. He told us his name's Quentin. He knew there were some new people, but only Edwards knows everyone, so he wasn't surprised not to recognize us. He decided to tag along. Such a fidgety guy.
We reached some high ground and were able to see the entire city, as well as the palace. Two suns were setting on the lake beyond the city. I could see pockets of people moving together, appearing then disappearing every time I turned.
As we headed for the palace, I noticed a small alley between two buildings. It sort of spirals as you go through, narrowing slowly. Just as I was able to get to the middle, I couldn't get myself any further. I so wanted to see what was in the middle, and I could almost reach it. Amelia, however, yanked me away.
Eventually we made our way to the pier. The lake looked gorgeous with the light coming from the setting suns. There were some boats tied up that seemed to be able to fit six or ten people. Following the pier for almost an hour brought us to a wall, so we went back into the city.
Soon we were walking through an overgrown courtyard of sorts, and right in the center was Vivian, Alexander, and a Carcosan sitting with them, all of them wearing masks. We were introduced to Nos, who told us he wasn't sure how to get back to earth, but our "other friend" would know. He scurried off too quickly for me to mention I wasn't sure that I wanted to go back. We follwed as closely as possible and he navigated the place like it was nothing. It's like he wasn't thinking, he was just going.
We eventually came to another courtyard. There was a sign, in the same language the Carcosans were speaking, that said "Sculpture Museum". Nos took his leave and we were left to go in and see our "other friend". Leading into the museum were six statues of byakhee, three on either side of the path. They looked completely real, which seemed not at all strange once we saw them moving and clawing at the ground. They didn't seem to care too much about us, or at least, not enough to attack, because we easily moved through the path into the museum.
It was very much like any museum I've been to before, except there didn't seem to be any security, and everything was just out on tables or standing alone with no security devices of any kind. We probably could have taken anything we liked, and if I'd known I wouldn't be able to stay, I probably would have.
Inside the building was certainly larger than it had appeared on the outside, but nothing at that point seemed very strange. It all seemed perfectly normal. We saw an exhibit of people in uniforms. Human people, many of them in uniforms of our own militaries. The first room was dominated by two dioramas of New York City. One was painstakingly carved of pure ivory, and every detail was exact (as far as I could tell; Alexander seemed to have agreed). The other was carved just as detaled in dark ebony. But this New York City was over grown with heavy military influence; many buildings looked like prison camps.
It was just room after room of amazing art. One full of costumes (some that we recognized, some that we couldn't place). Another with case after case of byakhee whistles, all subtly different. Another with all different creatures (including all the strange ones we've seen). Amazing stuff.
Finally we came to a non-exhibition room. A couple of cabinets, a chair, and a man sleeping on the desk. It was Alexander Roby, who woke quite quickly and was the most animated and light-hearted I'd ever seen him. He seemed, except for a few quirks, to be entirely normal. Completely lucid. He explains that he brought Carcosa to earth (which seems to be what the spell "Build Carcosa" I'd seen him writing was for). He says that this is his home, where he belongs, and everyone in the city when it travels back will remain. But he knows the way back to earth.
At the time, I was certain I'd help him to get the others back, but not follow.
He explains that here, the play won't be completed. The Stranger will not unmask, Yhtill won't turn into Carcosa, and Hastur will not be called. The only way to call Hastur (which he clearly felt was a bad idea) is by using the monoliths, which are safely in Clare Melford.
Alexander spoke up, here, and said that on his way (I'd still like to know ho he got here), he saw one of the monoliths down one of the nearby paths. This panicked Roby, and he led us on a very quick trip to one of the boats on the lake. Roby told us that he thought Edwards was trying to communicate with Hastur as if he can speak to the King in Yellow, but Hastur himself will appear and he won't even notice Edwards; the whole city, and Cannich would be completely destroyed.
Amelia was going on about something in the lake, and a huge creature came towards us, knocked the boat (and Roby out of it). A few moments later, he climbed back in and went on like nothing happened.
I wanted to just get to the castle, too.
As the boat got closer to the castle, I could see what looked like thousands of byakhee swarming the terrace on top.
The castle itself was beautiful, and looked like the party of the millenium had just happened. Furnished very ornately, food strewn everywhere, furniture overturned, but no one around besides us. As Roby led us through the rooms, it was almost as if I'd seen everything before. Everything was familiar, like when I'd seen the play, even with the bare set, I knew the rooms looked like this. In the shadows a couple of times, we could see the man who's been following us in London lurking, but couldn't really stop to take a better look with Roby rushing through.
Periodically we would see Carcosans revelling in various states of undress. Then, the stalker. We caught up with him in a room with a door on the other end. He walked through the door, closed, and locked it behind him. Roby was panicked about not being able to get through, but Vivian managed to get it open easily.
In front of us was a table, like many others we've seen. On top was a man, a Carcosan, who had just been brutally killed, blood still gushing...
Roby theorized that it was Coombs (a name we've heard before) who he described as "unpleasant". I'd've used more vulgar words then that, myself. I could have stayed and wept for the poor man, but we were running out of time.
It occurs to me now that Quentin was no longer with us for God knows how long...
We reached a set of stairs which seemed to lead to our final destination when a woman, looking horrifed and completely panicked, came running down past us, screaming. We tried to stop her, but she got away (I have such subtle friends what with their intimidation and brutal attempts to restrain people who are already scared out of their minds) and ran for the same door we'd seen Coombs exit. Amelia and Alexander ran off to try to help her while Vivian and I continued to follow Roby.
We entered a ballroom. We were sort of on a ledge that wraps around the top of the room with staircases leading to the main floor. Across the room we can see huge windows making up the walls. They actually appeared to be doors. Beyond them is the terrace. Thousands of byakhee, but they were completely silent. If they were flying, it was almost majestic, sitting, they were completely still.
We could see a group of people in the center acting out a scene from the play. All the characters seemed to be played by men. It was the scene where a man attacks and kills the Queen's son, and Cassilda strikes him. The blows were real, blood everywhere, but they were still delivering lines. No human could have still been breathing.
Roby grabbed a pistol from Amelia (who had joined us with Alexander and the woman we'd seen before), walked towards the doors, and shot himself to redirect attention. Roby tells us to leave and explains to the Carcosan woman to take us to the "English Garden". Byakhees were swarming everywhere. They follwed us through room after room after room. We eventually made it outside and are overlooking the lake. A vaguely humanoid shape emerges from the water. The byakhees are flying up into his eyes, and I just knew, somehow, I shoudn't look right at them.
I know it now; it was Hastur. I remember being drawn to him before; now he disgusts me. He would have destroyed Carcosa and part of earth in the process. Poor Carcosa...
Our guide started running and we all pulled ourselves away to follow. She led us to the English Garden and opened it. We came to a maze in the center. Vivian led us all through and in the center was an arch. Amelia tried to convince our guide to come back to earth, that she'd die in Carcosa, but she refused saying it was her home and she would be fine. (I know how she feels.)
Amelia went through the arch.
Then Vivian.
Then Alexander.
I didn't want to. Part of me still cries when I remember that I did. But I had to. I knew that I wouldn't make it more then a few moments. On my way out, I saw the yellow sign made with marbles that were pressed into the ground in front of the arch. I grabbed one as I went through and was hurled back to the Loch. The sign was there in pebbles too, although these were much more normal looking. I stooped down to study them and the next thing I knew, Vivian was kicking them away and I lunged at her. I missed her, fell to the ground, and cried for what felt like hours.
We stayed at the inn in Cannich that night. None of us was doing particularly well. I'd've driven back if I thought the city would still be there.
I have to get back.
I have to.
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