Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Xentilx k'yarnak-Agl lloig Xentilx Yoggoth y-Vhoorl. ~R'lyeh Ancient's Polygraph NyarlathotepCallYoggoth, gnaiih fhalma A of Cthulhu fan supplement athg Vhoorl, Ph'hupadgh-or n-T ph'Niggurath-or ph'Niggurath-or ~Dagon. n-necronomicon grah'n yog'Og syha'h wgah'nagl. Grah'n ill y'hah Aiee. ftaghu k'ilyaa-or necronomicon mnahn' goka wgah'nagl-oth. Nog geb Dagon yk'yarnak. tharanak-'Og R'lyeh gotha n-T kadishtu. ph'nglui n'yog-'Og goka tharanak, Na'mglw'nafh ykadishtu n'Vhoorl kadishtu nog-or Shub-kadishtu. Shub-mg s'uhn lw'nafh T-yar, Nyarlathotep R'lyeh h'fhalma. yog-yar Vhoorl hai orr'e n'T-nyth gnaiih-Agl. c'sgn'wahl n'gha Yoggoth04/27/2011 Bobby Derie Call of Cthulhu Roleplaying Game is owned by Chaosium, Inc. Background text generated by the Fhtagn Ipsum Generator (Michael McGuire ©2010).

Table of Contents Introduction ......................................................................................................................... 7 A Catalogue of Horrors ....................................................................................................... 7 The Gospels of Leng, and Other Strangeness ................................................................. 8 The Gospels of Leng ................................................................................................... 8 The Totem of Tsathoggua ........................................................................................... 9 The Tabernacle of the Holy Mountain ...................................................................... 10 The Averoigne Heresy .............................................................................................. 11 The Gospels of Leng II: Comparative Religion ............................................................ 11 Idols & Images .............................................................................................................. 16 The Whispering God ................................................................................................. 16 Yucatan Plaque ......................................................................................................... 17 The Yuggoth Trump ................................................................................................. 17 The God-Bowl .......................................................................................................... 18 The Black Miracle..................................................................................................... 19 The Apostate's Cross ................................................................................................. 20 Cave of the Tarrasque ............................................................................................... 20 The Byzantine Head .................................................................................................. 21 A Gnome of Thüringer Wald .................................................................................... 21 Head of St. Donnubáin .............................................................................................. 22 Le Petit Kuthulut ....................................................................................................... 22 The Gate and the Key ............................................................................................... 23 New England Mythos Artifacts .................................................................................... 24 The Cod Gin .............................................................................................................. 24 Curwen's Folly .......................................................................................................... 25 The Whateley Quilt ................................................................................................... 26 The Delapore Crest ................................................................................................... 26 The Pilgrim's Doorstep ............................................................................................. 27 Quamis' Wampum..................................................................................................... 27 Cap'n Marsh's Killdevil ............................................................................................. 28 The Black Goat Letters ............................................................................................. 29 The Boston Black Pineapple ..................................................................................... 30 James Gilman‘s Headstone ....................................................................................... 30 New England Mythos Marvels ..................................................................................... 31 Zann's Thereminvox ................................................................................................. 31

The Stregoicavar Gun ............................................................................................... 32 Dunwich Soda Water ................................................................................................ 33 Odic Meter ................................................................................................................ 34 Memory Cylinders .................................................................................................... 35 The Dreams in the Computer Room ......................................................................... 35 The Inmost Lightbulb ............................................................................................... 36 The Innsmouth Battery ............................................................................................. 37 The Electric Pipe ....................................................................................................... 37 The Mechanical Mind ............................................................................................... 38 Squid Gun ................................................................................................................. 39 Project Pacemaker ..................................................................................................... 39 The Forge of Mnar, And Other Tools ........................................................................... 40 The Forge of Mnar .................................................................................................... 40 The Hammer of Eibon .............................................................................................. 41 The Shoggoth-Stick .................................................................................................. 42 The Mummifier ......................................................................................................... 43 The Flint Knife .......................................................................................................... 44 For Love of Books! ....................................................................................................... 45 Book Burning ............................................................................................................ 45 The Dead God's Book ............................................................................................... 46 Wallpaper .................................................................................................................. 46 Word Eater ................................................................................................................ 46 Madness By The Book .................................................................................................. 46 Graphomania ............................................................................................................. 47 Horror Vacui ............................................................................................................. 47 Bibliotaphy................................................................................................................ 48 Cured! ........................................................................................................................... 49 The Cult Circular, and Other Pernicious Pamphlets ..................................................... 49 Pages of Darkness ......................................................................................................... 52 The Black Page ......................................................................................................... 52 The Fur Bookmark .................................................................................................... 53 The Lost Page ........................................................................................................... 54 The Bookworld ......................................................................................................... 55 The Worm That Gnaws ............................................................................................. 55

Treasures of the Old Ones............................................................................................. 56 Cthulhu Days ................................................................................................................ 57 The Remonstrance of Y'Golonac .............................................................................. 58 Calan Gaeaf y Cheyne Walk ..................................................................................... 59 A Merry Mythos Christmas .......................................................................................... 60 The Cosmic Christmas .............................................................................................. 60 The Pagan Christmas ................................................................................................ 61 The Christian Christmas ........................................................................................... 63 The Secular Christmas .............................................................................................. 64 Alternate Mythos .............................................................................................................. 66 The Hodgson Mythos .................................................................................................... 67 The Wellman Mythos ................................................................................................... 68 Scenario: The Terrible Parchment ............................................................................ 73 The A. Merritt Mythos .................................................................................................. 76 Murian Technology................................................................................................... 76 Denizens of Muria..................................................................................................... 77 Mystery Men Mythos .................................................................................................... 82 The Asp ..................................................................................................................... 83 The Dream of Justice ................................................................................................ 84 Mason & Dixon......................................................................................................... 85 The Prince in Yellow ................................................................................................ 87 The Unspeakables ..................................................................................................... 88 Waterbug ................................................................................................................... 90 Ten Views of Arkham, the Mythos City....................................................................... 91 The Dreaming City ................................................................................................... 91 The Alien City........................................................................................................... 93 The Infinite City........................................................................................................ 94 The Incarnate City..................................................................................................... 95 The Elemental City ................................................................................................... 96 The Dead City ........................................................................................................... 97 The Heart of the City ................................................................................................ 99 The City .................................................................................................................. 100 The Eternal City ...................................................................................................... 101 The Real City .......................................................................................................... 102

Keeper‘s Option .............................................................................................................. 103 Cthulhuology............................................................................................................... 104 Specialized Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge.................................................................... 105 The Little Mythos ....................................................................................................... 107 Using the Little Mythos in the Game ...................................................................... 108 False Mythos Tomes ................................................................................................... 109 Reference Works ......................................................................................................... 112 Making Reference Works ....................................................................................... 113 Oral Histories of Cthulhu ............................................................................................ 115 Tomes of Power .......................................................................................................... 117 Contact Deity Variants ................................................................................................ 120 Oracle ...................................................................................................................... 120 Cheval ..................................................................................................................... 120 Impression of Reality .............................................................................................. 120 Metamorphosis ........................................................................................................ 121 The Corruption Attribute ............................................................................................ 121 The Investiture Skill .................................................................................................... 122 Investiture (10%) .................................................................................................... 123 Five New Occult Skills ............................................................................................... 123 Summoning (05%) .................................................................................................. 124 Aura Reading (05%) ............................................................................................... 124 Telepathy (05%)...................................................................................................... 125 Mental Defense (05%) ............................................................................................ 125 Ectoplasmic Extrusion (05%) ................................................................................. 125 The Secret Language of Cats ...................................................................................... 126 Speak Cat (01%) ..................................................................................................... 126 Cats and the Mythos................................................................................................ 126 Talking to Cats ........................................................................................................ 127 Contacts....................................................................................................................... 128 Contacts (10%)........................................................................................................ 128 Putting It All Together .................................................................................................... 129

Table of New Mythos Tomes New Mythos Tome 1 The Gospel of Leng ......................................................................... 9 New Mythos Tome 2 The Apocalypse of R‘lyeh ............................................................. 13 New Mythos Tome 3 Picatrix ........................................................................................... 13 New Mythos Tome 4 Book of the Sleepers ...................................................................... 15 New Mythos Tome 5 The Epistle of Dagon ..................................................................... 51 New Mythos Tome 6 The Left Hand Path ........................................................................ 52 New Mythos Tome 7 Der Lange Verborgene Freund ...................................................... 72 New Mythos Tome 8 Schoolbook of the Deep School..................................................... 72 New Mythos Tome 9 Chants of Tsathoggua .................................................................. 111 New Mythos Tome 10 Necronomicon (False)................................................................ 112 New Mythos Tome 11 Second Book of Eibon ............................................................... 112 New Mythos Tome 12 The Bloated Woman in the 7 Cryptical Books of Hsan ............ 115 New Mythos Tome 13 Migrations of the Servants of the High-Priest ........................... 116 New Mythos Tome 14 Hymns of Leng .......................................................................... 117 New Mythos Tome 15 Songs of the Kraken ................................................................... 117 New Mythos Tome 16 Tales of the Horned Serpent ...................................................... 117 New Mythos Tome 17 The Corpse Cults ....................................................................... 118 New Mythos Tome 18 The Complete Necronomicon .................................................... 119 New Mythos Tome 19 Exorcisms of the Black Monk ................................................... 119

Table of New Mythos Spells New Mythos Spell 1 Totem of Tsathoggua ...................................................................... 10 New Mythos Spell 2 The Time is Right ........................................................................... 14 New Mythos Spell 3 Apportion Ba ................................................................................... 15 New Mythos Spell 4 Forge Star-Stones of Mnar .............................................................. 41 New Mythos Spell 5 Enchant Hammer of Eibon.............................................................. 42 New Mythos Spell 6 Endarken ......................................................................................... 73 Table of New Mythos Creatures New Mythos Creature 1 Iils (Human Cultist) ................................................................... 68 New Mythos Creature 2 The Shonokin ............................................................................ 71 New Mythos Creature 3 The Terrible Parchment ............................................................. 75 New Mythos Creature 4 The Shining One ........................................................................ 79 New Mythos Creature 5 The Silent Ones ......................................................................... 81 New Mythos Creature 6 Akka .......................................................................................... 82

Introduction
This document is a compilation of fan material for Call of Cthulhu. I did not do this because I felt that CoC was particularly lacking in any respect, but mainly out of boredom and an innate need to create, expound, and tinker. Those primal drives are wellrepresented in this book and its three categories:  A Catalogue of Horrors gives items and situations ready to be dropped into any Mythos game. This section does not present new rules or points of view, as much as flavorful and interesting material ready to be dropped into any CoC campaign, including new tomes, spells, and magical items. Alternate Mythos presents alternatives and expansions to the setting of Call of Cthulhu, by giving a selection of material from the creative worlds of several related authors: Abraham Merritt, William Hope Hodgson, and Manly Wade Wellman. This chapter also includes a selection of Mystery Men for a pulp-style CoC campaign, and a lengthy essay on non-traditional ways to utilize Arkham as a Call of Cthulhu setting. Keeper’s Option includes all new rules and rule-variants, designed to expand and explore new possibilities in the Call of Cthulhu ruleset. These rules present new ideas, or at least new spins on old ideas, and give examples and suggestions on how they might be used in a CoC game. Putting It All Together is a closing essay, trying to unify a few last themes found throughout this book. If you make it this far, thanks for reading!

The majority of this material was originally posted on the Yog-Sothoth.com forums, and I'd like to express my thanks to the forumites there for being a great audience and giving helpful feedback on occasion. Special thanks go to Frank Trollman, who has weathered my throwing much of this stuff his way, and to Dan Harms for being the Bookkeeper of Cthulhu.

A Catalogue of Horrors
The Cthulhu Mythos has grown way beyond the bounds of Lovecraft's original fiction, and modern writers plunder it and tie their own works into the Mythos without pause, and sometimes without consideration. The body of Mythos second- and third-generation fiction is huge and growing, to the point where casual readers and players can speak of things that Lovecraft never invented as being canonical and bedrock parts of the Mythos. Entities like Kthanid, Cthylla, the Insects from Shaggai and the Hounds of Tindalos are familiar subjects to many CoC aficionados, despite never having appeared in Lovecraft's own work. The derivatives and add-ons to Lovecraft have become part of an Expanded Mythos and that is not a bad thing. While it is good to go back to the well from time to time, the "timeless" Lovecraft Mythos are so familiar to most players and Keepers that a little innovation, a little variety, is not just a good but in some cases a necessary thing in order to keep people involved in the game. So this section presents, if you will, creative expansions that draw not just on Lovecraft's Mythos, but from the Expanded Mythos of secondary and tertiary writers, and more besides.

The Gospels of Leng, and Other Strangeness
Most Mythos authors eschew direct connections between their fictional creations and mainstream religions. The viewpoint has something less to do with atheism than materialism: cultists of the Mythos typically worship 'deities' made flesh, and congregate with Deep Ones or other Mythos critters who have their own alien rites and sacraments, completely divorced from human worship. That said, for the bulk of human history religion has been an important part of our cultures. Religious works and speculation fill entire libraries, and scripture can act as a lens to shape and influence our understanding of everything in life…including the Cthulhu Mythos. While many players and Keeper may be leery of adding any serious element of realworld religions into their games, it is important to remember from a purely historical standpoint that religion and religious attitudes play a large but understated role in the backstory of the game as it stands. The Patriarch Michael of Constantinople burnt copies of the Greek Necronomicon, and the Christian monk Olaus Wormius translated the Necronomicon from Greek into Latin. The Order of Dagon established themselves in Innsmouth by driving off the local Christian churches. The large-scale witch hunts in Europe and America, the Inquisition, and the general destruction or absorption of pagan religions by the expanding church, is intimated to have been behind the suppression of many Mythos cults and affiliated sorcerers and books. These are simply examples from Lovecraft's own works; other authors go into more generous detail. The key point here is not to point out that "such and such a religion is wrong"; but to use the wealth of available material to add detail and context to various Mythos elements. The combination has many benefits for the willing Keeper: players are more likely to be drawn into the story by the wealth of detail, the juxtaposition of familiar elements with Mythos elements adds novelty (and sometimes horror), and the keeper can more easily incorporate mainstream occult material (even from other games) that syncs with the religious elements they employ. The Keeper also faces the challenges of avoiding offending any particular religion (players can rightfully be touchy about their faith), particularly with regards to attributing any actual supernatural power to one religion over another. I'm a firm believer that the best way to get across a point can be with an example, so I've provided several examples below, along with the various stories they refer to. Keepers can use these in their own games, or as a basis for coming up with their own materials. For this post at least, all of the examples below refer to Christianity in some form—this wasn't to pick on Christians or to leave out any other religion, but simply because Christianity is the religion I know best. The Gospels of Leng Source concept: The Strange Doom of Enos Harker (Lin Carter and Robert M. Price) The New Testament of the Christian canon does not include every purported gospel or early Christian document. The final and official affirmation of which books were to be considered canon and which were not was given at the Council of Trent (1546). Many

supposed gospels, apocalypses, letters, and other works were lost or deliberately left out of the Christian canon, including all of the Gnostic Gospels and various books that supposedly explained the life of Jesus between his birth and the start of his ministry. One can well imagine that such works were wide spread during the Medieval period, but through the efforts of the Roman Catholic Church the regular canon became sacrosanct and the lesser-known gospels became obscure, often prohibited or destroyed, and only a relatively few finds—such as the discovery of the Nag Hammandi Library in Egypt— give us any idea of their contents. Collectively, the non-canon works are known as the apocrypha. The Gospel of Leng is one such document. Several apocryphal works describe Jesus' journeys to the East and his exposure to the teaching of Asian religions there, but only one tells of his terrible pilgrimage to the forbidden plateau of Leng, and the blasphemous mysteries he learned among the ancient corpse-cult there. Or so it is said. The Gospel of Leng remains obscure, supposedly a set of ancient scrolls written in some form of Naacal, and only loosely translated by the sole, half-insane missionary that has seen them. A segment of the Tcho-Tcho people believe in the truth of the Gospel of Leng, but their religion is based on the strange Christianity practiced during the Taiping Rebellion (1850-1864), and is considered heretical even by the other Tcho-Tchos.

New Mythos Tome 1 The Gospel of Leng
The Gospel of Leng—in Naacal, by unknown author, c.26 AD.—This cache of scrolls describes the journey to Leng of a holy man from the West, his studies with the abbot of the strange order there, the mastery of great powers, his initiation into the cannibalistic corpse-cult, and finally his departure back to the West to fulfill his unknown destiny. The name 'Jesus' does not appear in the original manuscript. Sanity loss 1d4/1d8; Cthulhu Mythos +8 percentiles; average 20 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Contact Ghoul, Food of Life, Unspeakable Promise The Totem of Tsathoggua Source concept: The Invisibles by Grant Morrison, The Tale of Satampra Zeiros by Clark Ashton Smith Satanism as an organized cult that deliberately aped, mocked, or inverted the practices of the Catholic Church may well be said to have been based largely on the imagination historical novel Là-Bas (1891) by Joris-Karl Huysmans. The entire concept of a "Black Mass," the symbolism of the naked altar and the defiled host, appears to have originated with him and taken on a life of its own; though the basic superstitions and some of the underlying occult concepts were undoubtedly centuries-old—the concept of speaking the mass backwards, the importance of stealing the consecrated wafers, etc. Such notions took root in the popular imagination, and even today some modern Satanic religious movements take their cue from his work. The Totem of Tsathoggua is a Mythos spell that has become unknowingly entwined with

this insurgent Satanic tradition. The toad is a symbol of Tsathoggua, the amorphous deity of ancient Hyperborea; Satanists of Huysmans' mode are known to crucify toads in hideous and cruel blasphemy of the suffering of Christ. However, those who follow the rite exactly inadvertently recreate an ancient sacrifice to Tsathoggua—a spell that may contact the toad-deity.

New Mythos Spell 1 Totem of Tsathoggua
Totem of Tsathoggua is a variation of the Contact Deity spell, and requires the appropriate sacrifice of a toad or other amphibian upon an altar or other source of veneration by a principle celebrant; others present and involved with the ceremony are also counted as participants. Every participant in the ritual loses 1 POW and 1d3 Sanity points. The chance of success equals half of POW x 5 (rounded up) + 5% for each additional participant. If successful, Tsathoggua appears in spirit form, as a shadowy and translucent version of himself; normal Sanity losses apply. Tsathoggua will listen to the entreaties of the assembled, and often lead them away from Satanism into more blasphemous rites dedicated to itself. There is a 1% chance that when cast, the spell accidentally summons a Formless Spawn of Tsathoggua instead. The Tabernacle of the Holy Mountain Source concept: The Curse of Yig by H.P.Lovecraft and Zealia Bishop In the Appalachians of the United States, periodic waves of religious fervor give rise to strange, intense variations of Christianity, which are often slow to die out. One such practice that began and spread in the 1920s was snake-handling and poison-tasting. The strange, small ministries were ecstatic congregations, given to faith healing, speaking in tongues, drinking strychnine, and handling serpents without harm. Of course, some did get bitten by venomous snakes, and many an older member or congregant displays the swollen, misshaped limbs from such poisonous bites. The Tabernacle of the Holy Mountain is a small ministry that holds biweekly services, on Wednesday and Sunday nights, at a small storefront in whatever city the investigators are in. The congregants are for the most part white and the working poor—blue collar laborers, auto mechanics, widowed women forced to work in factories, and their spouses and children. A few colored members may be in evidence, but this is rare. The minister, a young faith healer named Melancthon Smith, is given to speaking in tongues and visions, and reads from an old, obscure bible with many strange passages. The Tabernacle by itself is not directly connected to the Mythos, though it may easily be mistaken for a cult. The tragedy that befalls this cult is that Melancthon Smith is a distant descendant of the children of Yig, and possesses a sacred serpent of Yig. He alone of the Tabernacle is immune to the snake's venom, and many weeks his congregation shrinks as some unfortunate worshiper is bitten and dies. Smith himself believes it is the weak faith of his church that permits these unfortunate accidents to occur, and works to conceal the deaths from the authorities.

The Averoigne Heresy Source concept: The Holiness of Azédarac by Clark Ashton Smith When the Catholic Church was first establishing itself; doctrine could only be enforced at the speed of a horse. Heresy flourished, and venality reigned among all church offices, from the highest to the low. Despite many repeated attempts at reform, it was over a thousand years before the Church of Rome managed to establish the rule of celibacy among its nuns, monks, and priests, and quite strange beliefs cropped up in the far-flung provinces of the Empire. Arianism, the Cathar Heresy, and other less-remembered conflicts litter the history of the Church. In the small and rural province of Averoigne, located in Gaul, blasphemous things were whispered of Azédarac, the Archbishop of Vyones. Like certain of the popes, Azédarac was reputed to be a necromancer of great repute, who bought or charmed his appointment to the office. Whatever the case, he was canonized as a saint upon his death for various miracles, not least of which was purported to be his bodily transportation into Heaven, leaving his tomb in the town of Ximes as little more than a cenotaph. The Heresy of Averoigne focuses on some of the teachings of Azédarac, the strange psalms and weird hymns he worked into the canon literature, the bizarre construction of the buildings on the church properties which he funded. Long after the Archbishop's death in 1198, a minor crusade was launched against the "Heresy of Averoigne" by its neighbors. Ximes and Vyones were laid siege, the tombs, churches, and palaces sacked. The truth, of course, is that Azédarac was a powerful necromancer and a servant of the Great Old Ones; his influence on the church in Averoigne left traces of Mythos lore scattered throughout the province, and the sacking of Azédarac's tomb spread many Mythos tomes and artifacts far and wide. Investigators may find scattered books and sorcerous devices in ancient European castles or modern auction blocks; the remainder of Azédarac's priests may have formed a cult and hidden in rural England or Scotland, building a strange church of Averoigne design with his hidden fortune. Scholars and students may investigate the obscure Heresy of Averoigne, and of course somewhere, beyond this plane, Azédarac may still exist.

The Gospels of Leng II: Comparative Religion
Players and Keepers should keep in mind that the story of modern religions is long and convoluted and that it took a considerable period of time for beliefs and church structures to stabilize in their current form—and even then, there are many offshoots, mutations, derivations, and evolving practices. These finds have historically been shocking to many people who thought they had a firm grasp and understanding of their religion; that is part of the reason to include them in a Call of Cthulhu game—to shake the worldview of PCs and NPCs, to upset what people think they know to be true and cast doubt and uncertainty on them. If that's disagreeable to you—don't do it. Religious archaeology and studies has a long and prestigious history. Judaism, Islam, Christianity, and their various denominations, off-shoots, and parallel developments have left behind a rich and diverse collection of beliefs, literature, and artifacts. Some of these materials are openly available, others are restricted and inaccessible to the general public,

and many items and books were destroyed due to censorship, iconoclasm, war, or disaster. What these materials generally have in common is a place in a continuous and complex religious tradition, beginning with the religions that eventually became and influenced Judaism to the current day. Ancient survivals in modern religions is nothing new; in the Western world many holidays and beliefs are the result of usurpation of older and non-Christian/Jewish/Islamic religious practices. Halloween, Christmas, and Easter can all be drawn back to or have been strongly influenced by pagan religious festivals, for example. Similarly Jewish and Islamic religions both draw on other Middle and Near Eastern religions (such as Zoroastrianism), and sometimes incorporate folk beliefs and superstitions drawn from conquered or kaput pagan religions, such as the famous hand of Fatima talisman. Given that the religions of the Book share a common heritage and have demonstrated the ability to incorporate material from old beliefs, this article more than the previous one address the influence the Mythos might have had on those religions. The how and the why vary: fragments of elder lore passed down from Persian magi, elements of worship that influenced a Mythos cult or sect, the beliefs of a pagan Mythos community that were Christianized and incorporated into the local religious calendar, etc. Aside from being examples that you can use in your games, the various items below may serve as inspiration for how you can work something similar into your own campaigns and chronicles. The Apocalypse of R'lyeh Fragment Christian and Jewish apochrypha (non-canonical texts) record many different apocalypses; these are usually dreams or visions that reveal secrets heretofore unrevealed to mankind. The most famous of the apocalypses typically deal with the end of days, the events leading up to the appearance of the messiah, the final judgment of God on mankind, and the world to come. The Apocalypse of R'lyeh was one such text, a transcription of the vision of a Jewish fisherman named Yigael ben Yeshua in ancient Aramaic, written sometime around 50 BC. Yigael's apocalypse details the end of the world as a second great Deluge, the result of the the Awakening of Leviathan, who sleeps not dead but dreaming in his sunken house of R'lyeh. Much of Yigael's vision he attempted to understand in the context of his own beliefs, leading to some strange contradictions. Experienced investigators (successful Cthulhu Mythos roll) will be able to identify references to things that may likely be Deep Ones, Elder Things, and other Mythos creatures and entities. By the time of the investigators, the Apocalypse of R'lyeh is likely no more than a manuscript fragment, or perhaps the corroded remnants of a copper scroll. Modern and Delta Green games might like to place it among the Dead Sea Scrolls, which will not be uncovered until 1946; Keepers for earlier eras may simply place it in the hands of a collector or suitable museum, who acquired it from a bookseller in Jerusalem. The translation of the Apocalypse is a suitable introduction for a Biblical scholar to the Mythos, or it may provide the signs that presage the Awakening of Cthulhu.

New Mythos Tome 2 The Apocalypse of R’lyeh
The Apocalypse of R'lyeh (c.50 BC, Aramaic, Yigael ben Yeshua) A record of a dream-vision of the rise of Leviathan from his sunken house of R'lyeh, and the second Deluge that will follow and wash over mankind, written by the fishermansorcerer Yigael ben Yeshua. 6 weeks to read and study; Sanity loss 1/2; Cthulhu Mythos +2 percentiles; Spells: Contact Leviathan (Contact Cthulhu). The Wicked Genizah of Salamanca In traditional Jewish culture, any text with the name of God was not supposed to be destroyed. Many religious documents, as well as records or contracts that were sworn in the name of God, were instead interred in a store room in or beneath the Synagogue. This room, the genizah (plural: genizot), has become a treasure trove of ancient manuscripts to modern archaeologists and treasure-hunters. This practice persisted well into Medieval times, including in the prosperous Jewish community of Salamanca, Spain. Salamanca is an ancient settlement dating back before the Romans, and was a possession of the Moors during the Islamic occupation of Iberia. It achieved widespread fame in the Middle Ages for its university, one of the oldest in Europe. In part because of the university, and in part because of its Islamic and Jewish inhabitants, Salamanca obtained a widespread reputation for sorcery and the magical arts. Rumors abounded of a secret cave beneath the city, where students from the university went to study black magic and make pacts with the devil. In truth, the rumors originated with the ―Wicked‖ Genizah of Salamanca—a subterranean repository that certain Jewish sorcerer-scholars and occultists used to deposit their most powerful and blasphemous writings. These writings consisted of various and heretical books and scrolls, but also many early texts on Kabbalah and, of course, various Mythos books, both original and translated. The Wicked Genizah of Salamanca has been lost since the expulsion of the Jews under Queen Isabella I of Spain in the late 1400s, though legends of the mystic cave remain. The contents of the Wicked Genizah constitute a library of their own, and may contain many strange and blasphemous texts—including, if the Keeper prefers, an original Arabic copy of Al Azif, obtained by some Jewish mystic from an Islamic trader or scholar, or perhaps a more mundane (but influential) occult work such as the Picatrix.

New Mythos Tome 3 Picatrix
Picatrix (c.10-11th century, author unknown, Arabic) An original and influential Arabic grimoire and book on celestial magic. 32 weeks to study and comprehend; No sanity loss; Occult +18 percentiles; Spells: The Time is Right Picatrix (c.13th century, author unknown, Spanish) A Spanish translation of the Arabic original. 28 weeks to study and comprehend; No

Sanity loss; Occult +14 percentiles; Spells: The Time is Right Picatrix (c.14th century, author unknown, Latin) A Latin translation from the Spanish translation. 24 weeks to study and comprehend; No Sanity loss; Occult +12 percentiles; Spells: The Time is Right

New Mythos Spell 2 The Time is Right
This spell allows the wizard to precisely time the most propitious moment to cast a spell, when the stars are best aligned to aid their endeavor. The character must view the stars for one night, taking measurements and making calculations, and must then make an Occult role. If successful, the character knows the proper day and hour within the next year to cast one specific spell; if that spell is cast at that hour on that day, it costs half as many Magic Points as normal. This spell requires no Magic Points to cast, but costs the character 1 SAN. He Who Saw the Deep Many religions include a description of a great deluge that covered the earth, leaving only a few men and animals alive; while particularly prominent in the religions of the Book due to the covenant God made with man via Noah, it is far from being unique. One of the oldest great flood myths dates back to ancient Sumer, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, where the demigod-king meets Utnapishtim. The Sumerian tablets containing the Gilgamesh epic, including the flood story, were first translated and published into English by George Smith in the 1870s, and caused a considerable stir in many circles. The original title of the Gilgamesh stories is sometimes given as He Who Saw the Deep, but of course there are many variations of the same flood epic in many different Near Eastern religions, and Smith worked from the tablets he had at hand, from the excavation of Ninevah. Other tablets, most fractured and partial, give additional details or alternate versions of the story, and were kept from the general translations published for public consumption, available only to scholars with the proper background to appreciate them. In this way was lost one such tablet of He Who Saw the Deep, where Utnapishtim shows Gilgamesh the star-ark, a vessel of stone where lie imprisoned all the evils not destroyed by the flood, which took the form of faceless beasts. A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll will equate the description of the ―faceless beasts‖ with that of the Mi-Go as given in various Mythos texts (or perhaps from the investigator's own experiences!); the investigators may be hired by an expedition sent to discover the location of this ―lost ark‖—or perhaps to find any trace of the previous investigations. Well-meaning Biblical and Near East scholars will be looking for confirmation of the text; a more Mythos-influenced NPC may fund the expedition in hopes of making contact with the Mi-Go, or perhaps recovering some of their technology. Delta Green players may even engage in a Cold War-style effort to recover the ancient Mi-Go craft, similar to the events of the novel Declare by Tim Powers.

The Book of the Sleepers Egyptian fever gripped the Western world in the late 19th century, influencing art, architecture, literature, religion, and magic, among other things. The translation of the Rosetta stone by Jean-François Champollion in 1822 opened the door for the translation of more Egyptian hieroglyphs, mostly copied from the walls of tombs, temples, and public monuments. One of the most popular English translations was the Book of the Dead, a book of Egyptian funerary prayers that were presented as a grimoire of spells and magic to a gullible and avaricious public. No less sensational were the revelations of Akhenaten, the heretical pharaoh whose solar worship some see as a precursor the Judaistic monotheism; this particular view was heavily favored by Sigmund Freud and others. Less popular, almost forgotten and lost in the morass of Egyptian and pseudo-Egyptian literature, was the Book of the Sleepers, a variation on the Book of the Dead used by an off-shoot of the main Egyptian religion that maintained the monotheistic attitudes of Akhenaten. The Book of the Sleepers follows a very similar formula to the Book of the Dead, including many nearly identical prayers, but the recipient of these prayers is a sleeper, not a corpse. Here, the Ba (spiritual double) of the sleeper is released and guided, via suitable imagery, to the Dreamlands. The Book of the Sleepers provides a different but not totally unfamiliar door to adventures in the Dreamlands; the method of their entry draws the attention of the MoonBeasts, who suffer ancient enmity against the followers of Ahkenaten. The Moon-Beasts are described in the Book of Sleepers as minions of Khonshu, the Egyptian moon deity, although this identification is almost surely mistaken and the means of defense described within useless.

New Mythos Tome 4 Book of the Sleepers
The Book of the Sleepers (1873, English, Author unknown) A slim leatherbound book, suitable for slipping into a pocket, printed cheaply in London by the Greater Egypt Company and Price & Sons, Booksellers. It describes how it was originally translated from a temple description in the lost Egyptian city of Amarna. In addition to the English translation of the text and reproductions of the most important images, the book focuses heavily on comparison of the text to similar Christian and Jewish imagery of sleep, death, and migration of the soul. Average 1 week to study and comprehend; Sanity loss 0/1; Dreamlands Lore +1 percentiles; Spells: Apportion Ba.

New Mythos Spell 3 Apportion Ba
Apportion Ba This spell costs 2 Magic Points and no Sanity, and must be cast before the character goes to sleep. The character‘s ba, in the shape of a winged bird with a human head, is released from their body and flies through the darkness of the cosmic night to the Dreamlands of

Earth, emerging facing the dawning sun along the great river Yann. This spell offers some protection, as no form of magic can harm the character‘s soul while they are in the Dreamlands, but any Moon-Beasts they encounter will be actively hostile, and even the men of Leng will actively shun them.

Idols & Images
Coming face-to-face with the Mythos is a special experience for the investigators. To see the horrors and monsters that they have read and dreamed about in the alien flesh is an important moment for them, a time of Sanity checks and adrenaline-stoked fight-or-flight responses…and, sometimes, a bit of relief. The horrors described by the Keeper are not the horrors that exist in the players' imagination; they are less terrible, more comprehensible. Keepers may thus choose to prolong the moment before the true encounter arrives, by using a representation of the Mythos to whet the players imaginations. These idols and images are the work of fevered artists, and may be as ancient as the world, or painted only this morning. The Whispering God The Opium Wars were a terrible conflict that led to the slaughter of vast numbers of Chinese troops at the cannons and guns of the British, French, and Russians; the wash of blood forced open China to foreign domination and exploration. At the end of the Second Opium War in 1860, the Summer Palace was looted and burned, and from some forgotten grave or temple was carried the whispering god, a small statuette which has passed from curio-shop to collector since. Physical Description This greenish ceramic figurine is barely 32 centimeters high, 26 centimeters at the widest, and 15 centimeters deep. It depicts a recumbent, segmented worm-thing with the longdrawn out head reminiscent of a Chinese dragon, resplendent with tiny scales and barbelles of glass and bronze set into the clay. The style and material mark it as probably a product of the Jin dynasty (265-420 AD). The figurine is heavier than it should be, suggesting there is some stone or metallic object within. Powers The Whispering God is one end of a void that stretches to places and times beyond human ken, like the other end of a whispering corridor or an antenna stuck into the black depths of space. Any deity of the Mythos may make mental contact with any being within one meter of the idol. Unless a human has done something get a particular god's attention, this contact is indirect and takes the form of strange thoughts, the persistent belief of a just-inaudible murmur or whispering from no particular direction, and gradual loss of sanity from prolonged contact (1/1d2 Sanity loss per month). Great Old Ones and others that do become aware of it, due to physical proximity, a Contact Deity spell, or the presence of one of their spawn within its area of effect, may take greater interest—they can impose a Contact Deity spell (no magic point cost) on any being within the area of effect, and at the Keeper's discretion may direct other powers through it as well.

Yucatan Plaque The early archeologists were little more than tomb-hunters and treasure seekers, and many a native people were robbed of their heritage and their cultural treasures by the rapacious and unscientific excavations of the 19th century. In time, this would mostly pass, as scientists learned better and governments placed greater restrictions on the export of artifacts. Still, this sometimes came too late, such that the Mexican government failed to prevent the removal of a few artifacts by August LePlongeon during his expedition to the Mayan ruins in the Yucatan in 1873. While primarily interested in photographing the ruins, LePlongeon's team were not always so considerate, and several treasures remain missing and undocumented. Physical Description This plaque is about ten centimeters on the side, six centimeters high and four thick; looking much like a brick with rounded corners. It is made of a gold-copper alloy known by the Spaniards as tumbaga, and etched or molded on one side, which has been treated with acid to dissolve the copper and allow the inner face of the plaque to shine as pure gold. The other sides of the brick are heavily oxidized and patina'd, which only enhances the effect: in the right light it will almost seem to glow. The etched surface depicts an erotic copulation between a Mayan of indeterminate sex and a deity with four snake-like limbs and vaguely inhuman face. If the patina on the back of the brick is removed, a faint etching of Naacal characters is revealed. Powers The plaque is the focus for an old version of the spell Summon Star-Spawn of Cthulhu; the spell itself is written on the back, and the caster must hold the plaque with the face away from themselves to cast the spell. No Magic Points are expended, but it requires as sacrifice a living human adolescent—preferably intersex (+20% on all tests to interact with the Star-Spawn), but any will do. The child will be taken with them and never seen again. The Yuggoth Trump Tarot cards received a great revival in popularity during the spiritualist movement of the late 19th century, with many books written and learned lectures given on the symbolism, power, meaning, and uses of the deck for divination. Occultists such as Aleister Crowley produced their own modified decks, combining the traditional aspects of the trumps with Hermetic and Qabbalistic systems of magic. Besides the most popular and reprinted decks, many minor decks of occult tarot cards were manufactured by different occultists, being passed down, lost, or scattered as the years and decades pass. The Black Tarot of the Church of the Starry Wisdom is one such "lost" tarot deck. It was illustrated by local artists in Providence, Rhode Island by Prof. Enoch Browen for his personal use and as gifts to others, and very few sets were produced. Single trumps were sometimes utilized as a form of identification or ritual use in the cult, and so the few extant sets have become somewhat scattered. Physical Description The Yuggoth Trump is a very thick and overlarge card, almost a thin plaque or tablet, painted by hand and protected by a varnish that has darkened somewhat with age, giving

a brown tint to the colors and a slightly greasy feel. The illustration depicts a dark planetoid with black canals or rivers against a starry background, and carries the numeral XVIII—normally associated with The Moon. Detailed investigation of the illustration reveals hints of an underlying pattern with the planetoid and stars, which becomes apparent should the card be held under a Wood's Glass or other "black light" source. The hidden diagram is a sort of a Qliphothic tree, labeled in Hebrew, with the dark planetoid at the top of the card giving the name of "Yuggoth" or something similar. Powers The hidden tree is, in the magical system of the Starry Wisdom cult, a cosmological/spiritual map. One of the uses of the trump is to allow the user to "draw down" the dark moon Yuggoth, channeling its energies into a magic working (i.e. the wizard may "tap" the moon for Magic Points instead of using their own). A wizard need only hold the card and gaze on the hidden pattern to draw Magic Points from it for a spell. However, the practice is imbalanced without other cards in the deck; the Yuggoth Trump was often paired with XVII—the Xoth Trump—to counterbalance its energies and without that dynamic the wizard risks body and sanity. The wizard may draw an amount equal to their own POW safely, beyond that they suffer 1 HP and 1d10/2d10 Sanity Loss for each additional Magic Point drawn. Any wizard who has used the Yuggoth Trump to draw power, or enchanted items created with Magic Points drawn from the Trump, becomes somewhat tainted by the energies; this is immediately apparent to any Mi-Go or spawn of Tsathoggua the wizard encounters. The God-Bowl Native American spiritualism has waxed and waned, as in many cultures and many times. The introduction of Europeans and their religions to the Americas was a devastating event to the native population and practices. Still, the cycle continues. The meeting of different cultures has produced syncretic religious movements like the Yaqui of northern Mexico. The 19th century saw a great rise in spirituality among some of the native peoples, which is recorded in their literature and their art, and in the tragedies such as the Ghost Dance Massacre of 1890. Sadly for many of those who do not care for their culture to be bought or sold, artifacts of this time period can be had for anyone with the dollars to buy them. One of the more obscure is a half-breed Yaqui potter in New Mexico, an outcast who maintains a living as a purported shaman giving shows for ethnologists and those Indians desperate enough to turn to him. One of his instruments is a curious thing he himself crafted, a simple terra-cotta idol he calls the god-bowl. Physical Description The god-bowl is a large terracotta statue, nearly two feet tall and as wide; the bowl opening itself is a little over a foot in diameter and as deep. The idol is of a sitting or squatting humanoid figure; pendulous breasts and a crude vulva mark it as female, lanky arms hugging her drawn-up knees around a gravid belly, the top of which is open and forms the eponymous bowl. The face of the statue belies aspects of Christian worship, with goat-like horns and an elongated face, but with a curious arrangement of four heavylidded toad-like eyes and other anatomic irregularities; the sculpture is so subjective that any given viewer may find traces of Asian, African, European, or Native American features in the face. The interior of the belly-bowl is marked into four sections, each of

which depicts a different sacred plant: coca, tobacco, datura, and peyote, though the details are difficult to make out due to the ashes and resins stuck to the bottom and sides of the bowl. Powers The idol represents an obscure Mythos entity with a complex genealogy (Cthulhu Mythos -10% to identify); Agashash—the bastard spawn of too many Mythos-human hybrids, who achieved a sort of apotheosis among the most degenerate lines, the individual character of his inhuman ancestors smoothed out into a blasphemous new race. Agashash died long ago, but her spirit is tied to the bowl, and may be invoked with the proper use of drugs she may be invoked to answer questions related to the Deep Ones, ShubNiggurath, Yog-Sothoth, and any other entity or race that breeds with humans (treat her Cthulhu Mythos knowledge for these subjects only as 88%). Agashash's apparition appears in the smoke from the bowl (1d6/2d6 Sanity loss to see) and she requires as payment for a successfully answered question one hour of copulation with the questioner. Males have little to fear from this process, besides the act itself (1d10/2d20 Sanity loss and the possibility of developing strange but harmless blue growths on their genitals, which turn grey and drop off of their own accord within one month), but females have a 2% cumulative chance of becoming pregnant; the spawn, if born, is a reincarnation of Agashash. The Black Miracle In the letter of Paul to the Galatians, the apostle says that if an angel came down from heaven and preached a different gospel, it would be eternally condemned. Christian scholars took this vague hint and ran with it, producing in southern France a legend of an angel which came down in the country of Averoigne to a bishop there, and provided him with a secret gospel—that apocryphal tome is now lost, but the Black Miracle is recorded in a stained-glass window of the Cathedral of Vyones. The window is so peculiar it has attracted moderate scholarly attention, including black-and-white photographic reproductions in some books on the subject, mainly for the curious figure of the "angel." Physical Description The Black Miracle is a 12th-century stained glass window, two meters in height and seventy-five centimeters wide, consisting of 163 individual panes of mostly colored glass (six panes were damaged during war, and were replaced with painted glass), held in a sturdy iron frame. The window depicts the visitation of an angel and the delivery of its secret gospel to his holiness Azédarac; the angelic figure is winged, but bears only the slightest resemblance to a human form, appearing as an exaggerated, terrible bird, with possible aspects of other beasts added here and there to produce a unique Medieval chimera. The background of the picture depicts one of the Cistercian mountains, including a small cave held to be an early hermitage of Azédarac. The black gospel, being received by Azédarac, is open and displays unknown characters. Powers The unknown characters on the image of the book are a terse message in Aklo, which combined with the background mountain, give the hiding place of the "secret gospel" and

warns of "The Fishers From Outside." The Apostate's Cross Julian the Apostate was the last, and perhaps greatest threat to the dominance of Christianity in Rome. He was the last non-Christian Roman emperor, the final descendant of the Constantine dynasty who attempted to revert Rome to its pagan origins. This effort failed when Julian died during a campaign against the Persians in 363 AD. The remnants of his philosophical pagan worship were removed or went underground to save themselves from Christian persecution. One particular branch of the imperial sub-cult adopted elements of Christian symbolism and practices to their own worship, and successfully passed themselves off as a Gnostic sect called the Orcites for over a century before their destruction at the command of Pope Gelasius I in 494. Lost in that campaign were their treasures, including the ivory Apostate's Cross. Physical Description The Apostate's Cross is an inverted or St. Peter's cross enwrapped by a serpent or dragon figure, the whole about 80 centimeters tall and 44 centimeters wide across the arms, carved apparently from a single piece of ivory—though many scholars dispute this, as no known creature could have produced such a large piece. Each piece of ivory is heavily scrimshawed with minute details, and the "eyes" of the serpent or dragon figure—of which there are eight—are picked out in small multicolored gems. The original was probably painted, but no trace of this currently remains. Powers The Apostate's Cross provides a hidden route to the Dreamlands for any who fall asleep before it, and the dreamers will discover themselves at a curious tower on the edge of the plateau of Leng. The dragon-figure is an image of Yig, who recognizes his wayward children and offer them protection from the men of Leng for so long as they do not harm or cause to come to harm any serpent or reptile. Cave of the Tarrasque The earliest remnants of human art are recorded on cave walls and ceiling, made from primitive ochre and charcoal pigments. These cave paintings show a high degree of style, a combination of realistic depiction and abstraction that captures the essence of lost stories and daily events of the period where they lived, showing animals no longer present in the current era, and even some species that may be extinct. The most famous cave paintings will be discovered at the Lascaux complex in southern France in 1940, but many other sites exist. Fragments of Greek colonial literature in Provence speak of such an "ancient cave with painted walls" where sat "a gorgon oracle," but the site itself has been lost for centuries. Physical Description The cave is a small chamber with a very low-ceiling entrance, such that anyone who enters must crawl through the opening, but it opens up farther on into a sizable chamber with a long crack running through the floor, ending at a shallow basin and a rough stone throne. Geologists who study the chamber will point its origin as a former tidal chamber, the water which carved it long gone. The ceiling is black from the smoke of torches, and

on the ceiling is a primitive scene featuring a gorgon or hydra figure, with writhing tentacles or snakes about its bulbous head and strange bat-like wings. A few words in archaic Greek, undoubtedly a later addition, are present on the opposite wall and are apparently fragments of prophecy. Powers The crack in the floor gives off an invisible mephitic gas, which concentrates naturally around the throne area. The ancient oracles would sit there and breathe in the vapors, entering a prophetic vision-state where they can see the expanse of time, its curves and anlges. Any modern person that does this will experience a similar effect (1d10/2d20 Sanity loss) and can answer questions asked of them related to past or future events, but this attracts the attention of the Hounds of Tindalos, who will come for the oracle. The Byzantine Head The Eastern Roman Empire, under Byzantium, endured long after the Western empire was overrun by corruption and barbarianism. More heavily influenced by the Greeks and the exotic Near East, Byzantium continued to produce exceptional works of art well into the Medieval period. The modern Kostantiniyye is built mostly on the ruins of the old capital of Byzantium, and occasional treasures are uncovered whenever a cellar or street is excavated. One such fragment is a marble head of curious aspect, believed to be from an ancient statue. The features of the head are the most curious thing about it, as they do not resemble many of the common peoples who historically inhabited the region. Physical Description The head is about 27 centimeters long, and 12 centimeters in diameter at its widest part, and made of white marble lightly veined with gold, with ivory chips set into the eyes. The marble is roughly broken at the neck. The figure is bald, with long narrow eyes and longlobed ears, a thin nose and pointed chin, and the nubs of horns or rays at the temple which Medieval sculptors used to indicate divine communication, based on a mistranslation in the Vulgate. Powers The face of the head is that of a demigod of Celephais, perhaps one of the first of the godchildren, and some of its radiant potency was captured in its visage. Any who makes the Voorish Sign using this head, passing and crossing it in front of their body, doubles the efficacy of that spell (+10 Mythos percentiles). A Gnome of Thüringer Wald Garden gnomes, or Gartenzwerg, were first created in Gräfenroda, Germany in the mid 18th century. Few folklorists or collectors know to look farther back for the origin of the tradition, but those few speak of the more isolated settlements of the Thüringer Wald, deep in the wooded hills where a traveler might trip over some ancient scrap of armor from centuries ago. Here, they folk still speak of the little people of the hills, and the small statuary—some quite ancient—that protects their gardens. These gnomes are much different than the friendly dwarfs of Gräfenroda; while the face is human enough, the rest is primitive, almost bestial and suggestive of a burrowing animal.

Physical Description Gnomes of the Thüringer Wald are between two and three feet in height, and most are carved of whatever local stone is available, often large river rocks worked by rough iron tools. The face is mostly human, with a bestial cast and pointed ears, but the rest of the body is only vaguely humanoid, more goat than ape. A sigil or glyph is usually carved or etched into the forehead of the statue, beneath the cap. Powers The people of the hills are territorial, and their images represent them in proxy. Any house or property where the statue stands belongs to the people of the hills, and if it is moved they take that as an invitation to follow it. Head of St. Donnubáin Donnubáin was a saint of Western Ireland, a convert who went among the last of the pagans to convert others. Local legends of the western isles speak of Donnubáin (or O'Donovan) matched the power of Christ in a contest of magics with the final druids, and when that shaman called the worms of the earth Donnubáin was torn asunder—but that his head, dismembered from his body, spoke a final prayer and a great stone fell on the pit of the worms, burying them for all time. The head was revered as a relic for over a hundred years, but was lost during a Viking invasion in the late 10th century. Recent research by historians and folklorists question if Donnubáin—who was not a Roman Catholic saint—existed at all, with some insisting the whole episode was a Christianization of a much older local legend. Physical Description Any biologist or medical person will confirm that the Head of St. Donnubáin—a fragile skull, sans jawbone, covered with a few desiccated scraps of skin and hair, with two golden bands affixed to it with three iron nails—is not human, but is of some canine creature, though badly deformed with a very short muzzle and enlarged braincase, possibly from tumors. The bands form a sort of lid so the top of the skull may be removed, although doing this requires removing the iron nails. If shaken, a slight dry, metallic rattle can be heard. Powers Within the Head of St. Donnubáin are three knucklebones, reproduced in copper, bronze, and gold. If any of the knucklebones are rolled or thrown on bare earth or stone, 1d4 dholes are called per knucklebone rolled; this process drains 4 Magic Points per dhole summoned from the roller. Certain other rituals may be possible, to summon other related earthy Mythos entities. Le Petit Kuthulut Schoolbooks are generally silent on the long and tumultuous history of Africa, the rise and fall of its kingdoms, empires, and peoples. Even today, children only learn of the Dark Continent as a source of slaves, with no idea of the names of the people that the English and Dutch traded in, the systems set up for the sale of human beings to human beings. The story instead focuses on these slaves, who were transported to new worlds predominated by European cultures and conceptions, and their history was written afresh, as though they had never been before. So rose up the societies of the West Indies and the

colonies. Fragments of the African roots were preserved in folk beliefs, religions, the names of instruments and the style of slave quarters…and a few small items, smuggled with the slaves or taken as keepsakes and curios by their slavers, and so found themselves in the New World, where they took on new significance. One such translation is Kuthulut, a minor loa of the petro rite in Haiti. Kuthulut is obscure, old, and distant, but he is strong, stronger than many loa, and those houngans and mambos mad enough to become chevalier of Kuthulut are some of the most abhorred bokkor in existence. Physical Description A small charm, about four centimeters square, raised on one side and flat on the other, with a small hoop at the top and bottom where a string or thong may be tied. The raised side is shaped to show a squid-headed figure, squashed and compressed into the dimensions of the pendant. Metallurgical analysis will reveal the charm to be made of a strange allotropic alloy. Powers The houngans and mambos of Haiti use the charm to cast the spell Contact Kuthulut (a variation on Contact Cthulhu), who guides their dream-self to "the island under the sea." While they are thus occupied, Kuthulut will ride the cheval, speaking to those present in strange tongues and performing bloody rites. For the duration of the spell, the character becomes an NPC (if not one already) and Cthulhu controls their form: replace their mental attributes, skills, and POW with Cthulhu's own, though Cthulhu must use the wizard's own Magic Points to cast any spells. While being "ridden," the character is susceptible to the Elder Sign and various exorcism techniques. The Gate and the Key The Netherlands were once the commercial heart of a great sea-faring empire, and their yachts and merchantmen sailed from Nieuw Amsterdam to the Spice Islands. The Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie (Dutch East India Company, or VOC) in particular made its shareholders immensely wealthy, when the ships made it back from month-long voyages to strange lands and curious diseases. From the merchants and seamen, money trickled down to other classes: scholars, tradesmen, and artists. Art flourished during the 17th century, and many a VOC member had their portrait painted by Rembrandt or one of his contemporaries—such as Lupold Prinn, grandnephew of the terrible necromancer Ludwig Prinn. Whether the younger Prinn inherited anything from his great-uncle is never clear, but he was a painter of no small talent and great poverty, and his few remaining works are highly prized by modern collectors. One of the choicest surviving paintings is a canvas entitled The Gate and the Key—a scene more shocking and explicit than The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, privately commissioned and never openly displayed. The painting remained the province of private collectors for centuries, passing from one like-minded soul to another as a form of currency for other curious objects or as part of an exchange of favors, until it was found in the effects of Richard Upton Pickman when he was declared dead.

Physical Description Oil on canvas, three feet high and four feet wide when displayed. The subject at first appears to be a medical dissection of a gravid female who had died in breech-birth, the doctor elbow-deep in gore. Most unsettling are the numbered of mirrored surfaces in the painting—23 in all, counting scalpels and a small tray of water—which display additional details from different angles that would normally be obscured to the viewer. It is these additional views that lend the painting its horrific quality, for by some distortion they change the entire cast of the painting, from a mere morbid record of tragedy and medical autopsy to suggest aspects of ritual, purposeful cruelty, and the inhuman nature of mother and stillborn child. Powers When hung in a room, The Gate and the Key almost appears to exude light—and while this is a fancy, the room it hangs in and any objects within it begin to appear blanched as if exposed to centuries of sunlight within just a few days. The effect is intensified if the room contains any mirrored surfaces; humans in a room will find that their exposed hair and skin begin to lighten considerably, to the point that the individual can become a veritable albino in only a few hours of cumulative exposure. Pickman was apparently aware of this property, as letters from friends say he kept the painting covered with a heavy velvet cloth, and never viewed it without heavy clothing, gloves, and a hood.

New England Mythos Artifacts
One of Lovecraft's genius strokes was to set his weird tales not in far and exotic locales, but primarily in the rural parts of his native New England. This corner of the country is one of the oldest and most deeply-settled parts of America, and has had many queer episodes and ages of its own, which have left their mark on both the people and the land. The following artifacts are the product of this weird history, made weirder still by the tales that are yet set in Lovecraft Country. The Cod Gin Eli Whitney's engine for the processing of cotton was one of many mechanical innovations of the 1790s, devices aimed at improving industry and enriching their inventors. Lesser known than Whitney was the brilliant but eccentric William Goodman of Arkham, who in 1796 at the age of 71 invented the Cod Gin. Goodman sought to obtain a patent on the device, but the patent office refused his claims on the grounds that the device could not possibly function as his notes and diagrams indicated. Failing to obtain a patent, Goodman obtained financial backing from several neighbors and founded the Arkham Engine Company in 1798. Rather than produce actual devices, the Company brought fish upriver from Innsmouth and Kingsport to be processed in the Cod Gin, the products of which were then exported. Goodman swore by his products, claiming that the products of his gin promoted health and long life. Whatever the case, the Arkham Engine Company's influence diminished with the rise of the Esoteric Order of Dagon, who claimed his device unnatural and its products tainted. Business diminished, and Goodman became a recluse. In 1847, the Arkham Engine Company building burned down, taking with it founder William Goodman, and the world ceased to hear of the Cod Gin any longer, although the remains of the device were never found in the wreckage.

Physical Description The Cod Gin is sizable and quaintly-made mechanical processing device, vaguely cubeshaped, weighing over a ton and made of wrought iron and brass. The device is powered by an internal coal-fed steam engine. A single great lever on the side that receives the unfrozen fish activates the device. It has numerous artistic touches commensurate with the period; for example the door to the coal-feed is shaped like the head of an elephant. Powers The Cod Gin crudely processes the fish by scaling, gutting, cooking the fish to obtain the oil, and rendering the remaining meat down into meal. Should the corpse of a Deep One be fed into the machine, the resulting "oil" produced will bestow unnatural longevity on the subject—a teaspoon of such oil prevents the subject from aging for one month. Each Deep One corpse will provide SIZ x 10 teaspoons of oil when processed by the Cod Gin. Curwen's Folly In 1688, the reputed sorcerer Joseph Curwen was operating as a merchant in his home town of Danvers, Massachusetts, having returned to take over the family business after several years abroad in Europe, first for his education and later as his father's agent. When his father finally died, Curwen settled in at his father's house. The land his people had settled on had been granted from an old Indian deed, before the forests had been cut back for farmland, and as the trees retreated great stones like eroded altars and megaliths appeared. By common consent, most of these were toppled or uprooted, and would likely have been destined to be broken up for foundation stones had the elder Curwen's not bought the lot and hauled the out to their own homestead. The neighbors considered the great pile of stones behind the Curwen house somewhat unseemly, but it was not their place to do anything about it since the stones were bought, paid for, and on Curwen property. Joseph Curwen took a great interest in the stones, and to the great interest of the neighbors announced he would use them to build a tower on the rear of the property. Masons were brought in, and in a few months a curious Medieval bergfried had been erected on the property. The folly was the news of the town for several years, most especially in 1692 when Joseph Curwen was forced to abandon his property for fear of the Witch Trials in nearby Salem. The tower remains, in remarkable repair, to this day, and belongs to the city of Danvers, as the property was claimed for back taxes decades ago. Locals generally avoid the spot, due to rumors that it is haunted, particularly on nights of the full moon. Physical Description The tower is relatively squat structure of dense grey stone, utterly unlike any of the local rocks, but similar to the bluestone of Ireland. The footprint of the tower is a nonagon twenty-five feet at its widest, and it rises thirty-seven feet into the air, tapering slightly. No windows mar the mortared stones, and there is only a single arch that allows egress, the keystone of which has a curious marble gargoyle-figure carved into it. The marble is the only stone of its kind in the construction of the tower. Inside, the walls are bare, with no interior floors. A stairwell circles around the inside tower and allows access to both its roof and an earth-floored cellar, both by ancient iron-bound oak trap doors. The city of Danvers installed a cast-iron rail on the stairwell in 1879, for safety purposes.

Powers The tower, through its placement or composition, has twisted time and space around itself. Should a wizard make the Voorish Sign before exiting onto the roof, they will pass through into a lonely mountain cave overlooking the Plateau of Leng. Should a wizard make the Voorish Sign before entering the basement, they will pass through into the Abyss of N'Kai. The spell Find Gate will identify the tower as such, and a successful Cthulhu Mythos roll will identify the purpose of the tower and how to activate it—but not the specific destinations of the gates involved. On some nights when the stars are right, space within the tower becomes perturbed—the few dozen steps become an endless stair, and anyone caught at such times may walk them for eternity without reaching any destination, or else find themselves in the tower again— but in a different year than the one they entered it. The Whateley Quilt Quilting was and remains a traditional art form, a bit of preserved Americana with its origins in the nation‘s colonial forbears. The quality of a given quilt is dependent on the craft of the quilter and the qualities of the materials used in its construction; and the many different nationalities had their own techniques and preferences. The most ancient Whateleys came from England, or some say Wales, and their pioneering womenfolk passed down their own traditions of quilting, of which the sole remaining intact example belongs to the undegenerate Whateleys of Boston, Massachusetts. Physical Description The Whateley Quilt is a hanging quilt, meant to dress the walls instead of a bed, and is near ten feet square. The patches of colored cloth, red, white and black, form an inversion of the rare Amish ―Witch Blazing Star‖ pattern, with the point of the star pointed at the floor. The back of the quilt, facing the wall, reportedly illustrates a Whateley family tree in America, dating from when the first Whateley came across in 1631 until 1738. Powers The pattern on the quilt attracts certain Mythos entities, most notably the spawn of Yog Sothoth. This is not an inherent supernatural attribute, but a function of the strange design which has a tendency to attract and capture their attention, sometimes for hours at a time, as if they were trying to resolve a puzzle and discover a great secret. The Whateley Family tree on the back causes 1d2/1d4 Sanity loss to any who study it. The Delapore Crest When Walter de la Poer fled his ancestral seat at Exham Priory, he took with him scant heirlooms save the de la Poer crest, which his ancestors had used to bind their most serious contracts, reputedly calling upon dark powers to witness the act. The signet ring he bore was buried with him, but emerged in 1888 in a jewelry shop, no doubt the work of some ghoulish gravedigger or cash-strapped mortuary assistant. From there it was purchased by a local historian, and eventually donated with the rest of his historical effects to a small museum in Carfax, Virginia. Experts who have examined the ring comment on its truly ancient design and construction, the antiquated nature of the crest, and believe it may date to the founding of the de la Poer line and the establishment of the

coat of arms. Strange misfortunes have haunted the museum since the ring was installed, and it is popularly believed to be haunted. Physical Description A heavy silver ring, black with age and of unusual size, such as might be worn on the thumb of a normal man. The band bears the inscription de la Poer, and in addition bears a raised coat-of-arms, such was used in ancient times for sealing wax on letters. The coatof-arms features a monstrous porcine figure armed and langed gules; the pig-man is not typical to English or Welsh heraldry, and completely baffles experts, but which may be related to the arms of the Arthurian knight Tristan. Powers The ring is the focus for certain outside forces; whoever wears it need only pay half the Magic Points when casting Contact Deity spells. The Pilgrim's Doorstep Providence Plantations was founded in 1636 by the cleric Roger Williams, who had abandoned the Massachusetts Bay Colony in favor of creating a settlement with a more liberal and progressive atmosphere. This new colony, based around the city of Providence, attracted many of those who found the Puritan regime too repressive or repugnant – including those scholars and settlers who dabbled in witchcraft, magic, and the occult. So it was that an undercurrent of occultism crept into Providence, and took root. One relic of this time is the Pilgrim‘s Doorstep – sometimes referred to as the Devil‘s Doorstep. The first account of it is discovered in a few diary entries from the late 1600s, where it was installed outside of the shop of a particular bookseller, and by the time of the Witch Trials of Salem it had disappeared. The Doorstep was rediscovered in 1866, and was sold to a Union admiral, who installed it in his own Providence home. The stone remains there to this day, a subject of many colorful local tales and legends. Physical Description The Pilgrim‘s Doorstep is a rough slab of greenish-gray stone, having something of the feel and texture of soapstone by the strength and durability of granite. In dimensions, it is roughly three feet long, a foot wide, and six inches thick. It‘s nickname ―the Devil‘s Doorstep‖ and the many rumors and legends about it stem from the impression of a curious webbed handprint – a zoologist who has studied the rock declares it the fossil imprint of some sea creature, but the resemblance to a hand is uncanny. Powers Any part-inhuman creature that touches the Doorstep will find their flesh affixed to the stone, unable to remove it. Wrenching the limb from the stone takes main strength (and at least 3 HP of damage), or the removal of the limb. The stone itself has 47 hit points remaining. Pieces broken off do not have the same power, and if reduced to dust and rocks the stone is powerless. Quamis' Wampum Among the Algonquin tribes of what would be New England, belts of sacred shell beads– wampum–were items of special significance, used to mark and seal major events among their peoples. European settlers misunderstood and abused this system, and wampum

quickly became items of barter and trade between the two people, diluting their original purpose and meaning. Still, their use persisted, particularly in the matter of land grants. Many independent settlers were allowed to make their own arrangements with the Native Americans, paying or bartering for the use of a specific territory so that they may farm and raise a house or mill. One of the remaining authenticated wampum belts was given to Quamis of the Wampanaug tribe, in exchange for the rights to a small islet relatively far off the coast of Nantuckett. The islet is little more than a shallow outcropping, halfsubmerged most of the year but often dry and visible during winter. The owners, the Billington family, attempted to build a few structures on the island, but generally abandoned it, rowing out there only occasionally. By quirk of the state laws and certain ancient treaties, the physical owner of Quamis‘ Wampum is the rightful owner of the small island property (although these days, it is usually accompanied with a proper deed and bill of sale). Physical Description The belt is about 13 inches long, and an inch and a half wide, predominantly made from small white wampum beads. The exception is a fringe on the bottom of the strip, which is made out of the more rare purple wampum derived from the local quahog. The leather ends were sealed in gold leaf sometime in the 19th century. Powers The possessor of Quamis‘ Wampum is the legal owner of the Billington Islet, which (when dry) contains little more than a primitive but sturdy stone altar. This contract will be acknowledged by any Mythos entity as well – from Father Dagon to Nyarlathotep – who cannot affect or approach the possessor while they are on the island, unless they are invited to. Cap'n Marsh's Killdevil No one knows who first distilled molasses into rum, but in the 1650s evidence of the new drink were everywhere, as laws, tariffs, and prohibitions sprang up from Nova Scotia to the West Indies. Innsmouth, Massachusetts made a good part of its portion on rum, and historians in Arkham, Dunwich, and Kingsport recall that long before the Marsh Refinery gained precedence over the town‘s industry, it was known for the Marsh Distillery, where Ezekiel Ephraim Marsh imported molasses from the Caribbean and refined it into a potent and overpowering alcohol. In the 1680s Cap‘n E. E. Marsh would load his ship the Devilfish with killdevil and sell it to the cod fishers up north, who used the rough drink to stave off the cold, taking in exchange gold and the poorest of their salt cod. This load Cap‘n Marsh would take back down to the Indies, where it fed the slaves on the sugar plantations, and he would load up on molasses and salt for ballast, then return to Innsmouth to repeat the cycle. In this way the Marsh fortune was assured, for many years, until politics and war made it unprofitable. Marsh‘s killdevil was famed in its time for its potency more than its flavor, and dark rumors circulated over his recipe – most agreed that Marsh had access to a spring of sweet water somewhere on the outskirts of Innsmouth, but others say he would add half-rotten salt fish to the mix to coax reluctant batches to fermentation, and all agreed that he never, ever cleaned his still. A few bottles of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil still exist, stuck in cupboards and behind bottles in ancient

bars, though none have come to light since 1856, when one of two crates of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil were pulled out of the remains of the Devilfish off of Devil‘s Reef. Physical Description A bottle of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil is typically a small earthware jug, sealed with wax and sometimes a small lead or iron stopper, though this is rare. In bottles where the seal has held, the ancient rum inside remains potent, albeit mellowed somewhat from being aged for years. The liquid itself is dark amber in color, smelling powerfully of sweet molasses and a strong alcoholic vapor, and the dregs inevitably consist of a slight black sludge or grit where the rum has dissolved part of the jug. No wooden cask of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil is known to have survived. Powers Aside from being a potent alcoholic beverage, some batches of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil inspire strange waking dreams – visions of ghosts, pirates, curious islands in the Caribbean where strange witcheries are practiced, and above all else the curious and bizarre city of Y‘ha-nthlei. These visions cost 1d2/1d4 Sanity loss, and often come back at strange times. More than one ancient mariner is recorded to have drowned in shallow salt water after too much of Cap‘n Marsh‘s killdevil…but then again, that may just be the drink. The Black Goat Letters The Miskatonic Valley, like most of the Massachusetts Bay colony, was gripped with the fever of independence during the Revolutionary War. Dunwich, Arkham, Innsmouth, and Kingsport sent off their sons to fight at the Siege of Boston, and even to the Battle of Rhode Island. Even when the bulk of the fighting had passed out of Massachusetts, the countryside was beset in fights between neighbors, as minutemen fought Loyalists, and traitors and profiteers were rooted out and discovered. In this antique and paranoid atmosphere unraveled the mystery of the Black Goat Letters, a collection of secret correspondence carried by a dead British spy on the road from Arkham to Boston in 1775. The letters, some of which were written in code, speak of a secret undercurrent to the War, obliquely referring to sorceries and witchcrafts employed by both sides, and of the necessity to call on stranger spirits or gods with curious names if the tide was to breached – most notable of which was ―the Black Goat of the Woods,‖ from whence the packet of letters gets its name. Although the letters have been authenticated by every historian and antiquarian in every particular, there is still much academic debate and mystery surrounding them, particularly the coded portions. Most historians maintain the letters must be a ruse or propaganda effort, while others suggest the coded parts are the true message and the rest mere obfuscation. The authors of the letters, and their intended recipient, remain unknown, and the letters reside at the Miskatonic University Library, in the Revolutionary War files. Physical Description A packet of nearly thirty hand-written pages on virgin parchment, about one-third of which is encoded, the rest being in colloquial British American English of the Revolutionary period. The parchment has been relatively well preserved and remains very clean, although the ink has faded badly in some places.

Powers The coded sections are in Aklo, and contain directions to a hidden cache of tomes somewhere in the Miskatonic Valley, referring to certain local landmarks such as Sentinel Hill near Dunwich. The books are rarely referred to by title, but rather by description or by a previous owner, except for ―the lost page of Dee‘s Necronomicon.‖ The Boston Black Pineapple In Colonial times, the humble and exotic pineapple became a symbol of welcome in many homes. Guests in an affluent Boston home might find a pineapple among the centerpiece a dinner, and be served some of the tasty fruit for dessert. Many finials gracing bed posts, stairwells, and curtain rods were carved to resemble pineapples, particularly in the guest-bedroom. The Boston Black Pineapple, as it became known, was a stone carving of a pineapple which graced the top of the arch of Samuel Seaton‘s guest house in Boston. Seaton‘s family had made their wealth in Africa, under the African Company of Merchants, and Seaton himself was a surveyor and explorer of the Gold Coast and the Congo regions, bringing back to his wife and children a number of strange souvenirs and artifacts, including the Black Pineapple. Seaton himself died in 1852 by a minor British nobleman, and the Pineapple has remained on top of the guest house ever since, though it has since passed out of the Seaton‘s family‘s hands. In modern times, the guest house has been remodeled and operates as a ―honeymoon house‖ for newlyweds who wish to spend their first few blissful weeks of matrimony touring Boston. Physical Description The Boston Black Pineapple is a sculpture of dark grayish stone, about two feet high and a foot and a half in diameter at its widest point, tapering slightly at each end. The surface has been carved to generally resemble the rough texture and shape of a pineapple, and although this was accomplished with some skill it is clear that the sculptor did not have an actual pineapple as a model, for many biological irregularities are present. At the top of the sculpture are several strange, pointed structures that resemble leaves from a distance. Powers The Boston Black Pineapple appears to augment or influence the fertility of some beings near it. Honeymooners at the Seaton house are much more likely to become pregnant during their stay, and some have mentioned the almost tropical heat that came upon them in the house and the powerful ardor it raised. However, such children as are born tend to bear some slight oddities or deformations – silver hair, a prominent brow ridge, weak chin, and long, dexterous toes are examples. This effect is much more pronounced if, as has once or twice occurred, children conceived in the house return their for their own honeymoons, with the resultant progeny often sporting excessive body hair and sometimes small tails. The effect is not observed in any other animal life except certain varieties of ape, though of course no breeding pairs have ever been introduced to the house for this to become apparent. James Gilman’s Headstone The Gilman clan were one of the most prominent seafarer families of Innsmouth and Kingsport, and from 1648 until 1864 every generation at least one of their sons drowned

at sea. Far from being considered a curse, many of the Gilmans considered this a curious blessing, for they were true mariners and always loved the sea and wished to return to it. Every Gilman who could afford to do so preferred to be buried at sea when they died, and as such the family left little in the way of grave-markers, though a few cenotaphs dot the Innsmouth cemetery. So it is curious that one of their members, James Gilman (b.1690d.17??) was indeed interred in the ground, far from the ocean. Genealogists and historians make much of this historical tidbit, for James Gilman was married three times and his three sons and five daughters by his wives form a crucial connection binding together many disparate bloodlines – the Carters of Salem and Boston, the Marshes of Innsmouth, the Whateleys of Dunwich and Arkham. The Gilman family themselves did not speak of it, and the truth of this has passed into legendry. Physical Description The tombstone is a slab of flint, nearly two inches thick, with a rounded edge and is engraved on one side. It gives no date of birth or death, and nothing on James‘ family or circumstances at the time he was buried, but bears the inscription ―James Blackmoor Gilman‖ and beneath that ―Mene mene tekel upharsin.‖ Aside from this, the stone is covered in relief with depictions of squid, octopi, starfish, mermaids, and other aquatic creatures. Many of these designs are somewhat fantastic, mixing the attributes of men and animals. At the base of the tombstone, often concealed by grass, is a star-emblem with a cartouche of some sort in the center. Most historians consider it a Masonic sigil, although others contend this. Powers The tombstone is a warding-stone, designed to keep whatever is below it trapped. At the moment, it keeps sealed in its leaden coffin the creature that was James Gilman. If removed or destroyed, the coffin will be breached from within and the inhabitant will escape in a few days time. The stone acts as an Elder Sign for purposes of whether Mythos creatures will touch or approach it.

New England Mythos Marvels
Along with strange artifacts of the past, New England is a center of science, ingenuity, and industry, which has produced many scientific marvels that have wowed the world, and many more which sit forgotten and unused in attics and backrooms of universities. Here it must be remembered that the bulk of Lovecraft's fiction, sometimes described as cosmic and other times as horror, has primarily the air of science fiction (aside from bald fantasies such as his Dreamlands cycle). Lovecraft was a materialist in an age when the focus was shifting to the immaterial, with greater focus being put on the radio, the invisible twin demons of electricity and magnetism, and the obscure promise of television and electric sound recording. These marvels may help Keepers capture some of the strange possibilities of such a time and place. Zann's Thereminvox Léon Theremin (ne Lev Sergeyevich Termen) a Russian scientist who invented the world's first electronic music instrument, the Aetherphone, Termenvox, or more simply and commonly Theremin, in 1920. The instrument received high praise from Stalin, and was heavily promoted in tours in Europe and North America in 1927. It was in Paris in

1927 that Termen—his name now alliterated as Theremin—met the reclusive violin prodigy Erich Zann. The two immediately took to each other, and were known to talk at length concerning music, philosophy, and the burgeoning world of physics. In Theremin, Zann discovered an intelligent, sensitive man who reformed his every belief about the greater structure of the universe and the place of man in it into a description of an electric cosmos; in Zann, Theremin discovered a tremendously talented artist with strange, haunting music fit the tone and theme of his own. Theremin built Zann a custom thereminvox shortly after he came to America, though it is unknown if the reclusive and idiosyncratic musician ever played it…or even if it was shipped from the New York post office where Theremin had mailed it for him. Physical Description The thereminvox is built into a wooden cabinet of Slavonian oak, and greatly resembles a lectern, with a sloping desk for setting music on to read at an angle, with a small control panel underneath. From the top right hand side projects a single rod of metal, like an antenna, and from the left hand side is a curious metal loop. A surreptitious and very simple eight-foot cord and plug dangles from the bottom of the device, near the back. A catch on the desk allows it to be lifted away, revealing the inner electronics—a small forest of tubes and wires. Burned into the desktop with a stylus or bit of heated wire is an unusual, avant-garde musical composition for thereminvox—signed by E. Zann. Powers The thereminvox is in most ways typical for such a device, except that its audible range—the same as the violin—is about 5 octaves. When playing normal compositions, listeners sometimes discern a strange, almost vocal quality to the music. When playing the composition burned onto the desktop, the thereminvox has the effect of disabling any communications with another time or plane of existence within hearing distance— Contact Deity spells fail, nearby dreamers find they can only speak or hear the unnatural electronic refrains, even those possessed by the Great Race of Yith find themselves unable to hear or speak with anyone else for the duration. The Stregoicavar Gun In 1913, in a little-known town of Hungary named Stregoicavar, oil surveyors discovered a tremendous metal mass beneath the surface of a local hill or long-barrow. An impromptu excavation revealed only a part of the mass, the barrel of a magnificent bronze cannon, in a state of terrific repair given its untold years below ground. The surveyors decamped and reported the find to the royal government, who devoted a team of laborers and three years to retrieving and restoring the artifact, which historians hesitantly identified as a prototype of the Dardanelles Guns developed by the Hungarian gunfounder Orban in 1451. The outbreak of war drew a curtain over that part of the country however, and the Stregoicavar Gun disappeared in confusion. One German officer, Claus Zessler, maintains the gun was used against Romanian forces when they briefly occupied Stregoicavar in 1918, but most historians dispute that the Romanians ever attacked that part of Hungary. Reports of the gun next surface in upstate New York, of all places, in 1929 when American forces on the lookout for bootleggers discovered criminals smuggling the cannon in from Canada. The gun is currently located at Fort Drum in New York while negotiations are being held with the Hungarian government.

Physical Description The gun is made up of two parts, each 6 meters or so long and weighs roughly 22 tons, and is made of the strange tulu metal, which can sometimes be mistaken for bronze when corroded. In form, the first part is a tremendous and curiously wrought bombard, designed to take 60 centimeter ammunition. The second part, designed to attach to the first by means of a tremendous hinge-and-lock, appears to be a support of some kind, and is made of stone and fossilized wood; a tremendous tinder-box or some similar mechanism in the second half apparently provided the trigger mechanism. The outside of the gun is ornately decorated, with many abstract geometric and animistic designs in relief. Also excavated with it were three 60-centimeter metal spheres, also of tulu metal. Powers If assembled, cleaned, loaded and fired, the Stregoicavar gun is still functional. As an artillery piece, it can launch a shot over five kilometers with great accuracy (provided the character is skilled with artillery, and the target is of sufficient size) and tremendous force. If the tulu metal ammunition is used, the Stregoicavar Gun can harm entities that are immune to normal weapons. Dunwich Soda Water In 1856, the temperance movement came to Dunwich in the form of Earl Frazer, a widower and retired pharmacist sometimes known by the less educated locals as "Wizard" Frazer. Earl abhorred demon rum, wine, and corn whiskey, and set up the town's first soda fountain on main street, across from the town bar. He exhorted men and women to try his fizzy, colorful, tasty concoctions, advertising their supposed medicinal benefits while decrying the plague of alcohol. Part of his extravagant showmanship included a vast mechanical contraption, somewhat like a boiler, whose many glass tubes and nozzles were filled with brightly colored liquids, and whose joints occasionally leaked steam. Frazer hinted broadly at the secret ingredients poured into his engine, guaranteed to cure all ills, and at the ending spigots would mix his elixirs for an excited customer. To the surprise of many of the town sops, Frazer established a successful and thriving business, and a small bottling plant exported cases of Dunwich Soda Water as far away as Arkham and Boston. Frazer's death—reportedly due to a brain tumor—saw the soda fountain go to his nephews, Jonathan and Jacob Frazer, who made a go of the dwindling business, but eventually gave way to more modern competition. What became of the Dunwich Soda Water fountain is unclear. Physical Description From the outside, the soda fountain resembles a small boiler crossed with an Italian cappuccino machine, all bright brass fittings, glass tubes, and various pipes and dials, with over a dozen curiously labeled spigots. Any good mechanic who explores the device will find a great deal of this is for show; most of the spigots lead directly to small reservoirs for syrups or aromatic bitters. However, the art of the device is a highly advanced double boiler, with many filters and fragments of some substance deposited on the bottom of the main water tank.

Powers When properly topped off with water from a Dunwich well and plugged in, Frazer's fountain will "activate" the innocuous water—making it effervescent and mildly acidic, much like the base of a typical soft drink of the period. An 8-ounce glass of this water (with or without syrups or an infusion of herbs and roots for taste) will restore 1 POW to the drinker, if they have lost any, and they will feel alert and refreshed. However, longterm drinkers suffer a terrible mental malaise; for every drink beyond the character's normal POW, roll 1d4: 1: Nothing happens. 2: Perception skill increases 1 percentile and their maximum sanity decreases by 1. 3: Perception skill increases 2 percentiles and their maximum Sanity decreases 2. 4: Perception skill increases by 4 percentiles and their maximum Sanity decreases by 4. Odic Meter Omar Mendel was a reclusive wild man, who made his living as a sort of prospector in the most remote hills and mountains of Vermont. In his earlier life he had been an apprentice at a machinist's shop in Boston, fashioning electromechanical gadgetry according to the drawings and designs of the resident inventors. The steady contact with his educated clientele and their requests gave Mendel access to many of the stranger scientific forces, and he became engrossed with von Reichenbach's concept of the Odic force, which he believed resonated with certain metals and could be used to find seams of precious ore. In 1908 Mendel believed he had perfected his device, and went up into the hills to use it. He stayed there for three years, earning some small success according to the local assayers, but eventually disappeared with all of his equipment in 1911. His few papers and drawings were archived in the Miskatonic University Library by Prof. Albert Wilmarth. Physical Description The Odic Meter currently only exists as a series of mechanical sketches in the Miskatonic University Library; and with the eventual descredidation of the theory of Odic forces, is unlikely to be constructed. Analysis by someone skilled in Physics would detect that the supposed "Odic Meter" is essentially similar to Hans Geiger's early device for detecting alpha particles, although Mendel's device uses a curious double-ring shaped gas tube as the sensing element. As depicted on the drawings and notes, the Odic meter and batteries were carried in a small metal box in one hand, with the sensor at the end of a wand held in the other hand, attached by a metal wire. A simple speaker in the box would communicate the strength of the Odic force by the amplitude of white noise. Powers The radiation that the Odic Meter detects is generated by Mi-Go equipment, or possibly is a natural by-product of the minerals the the Mi-Go mine in the Vermont hills. Anyone following the trail of such radiation will undoubtedly come across their former—or possibly still active—mining sites. The Odic Meter may thus lead investigators to The Tinsel of Yuggoth.

Memory Cylinders Thomas Edison, the Wizard of Menlo Park, had a finger in many of the technological developments of the late 19th and early 20th century, and one of his companies' contributions was the phonograph cylinder. Despite several early advantages over phonograph discs, including the ability to record on the wax cylinders in your own home and a higher fidelity in some instances, by the 1890s the cheaper discs dominated the market. Edison funded a small grant to an eccentric graduate student at Miskatonic University to find a new market for the cylinders, Herbert West. Making full use of the medical and engineering capabilities then available to the university, West worked on ways to utilize the simple recording media for other purposes. He achieved early success with a crude version of the electroencephalograph, recording what he called "mental waves" as distinctive patterns on the cylinders, which could be played back as audible tones. West theorized that the work could prove beneficial in several fields, particularly psychology and neural science, but Edison was displeased with the lack of immediate commercial value of the research and canceled the grant. Physical Description West's memory reels are essentially identical to other 1909 Edison Records cylinders, consisting of hard blue Amberol around a plastic core, with a scroll case-like container and paper sleeve marking the name and date of the recording. The cylinders can be played back on any cylinder phonograph, normally producing certain low, steady tones. The recording apparatus, kept as a curiosity in some basement of Miskatonic University, is a crude but effectively functional electroencephalograph, consisting of numerous metal pins or "anchors" to be attached to the skull by wires and amplifiers. Powers Unbeknown to West, Edison, and many others, the Memory Cylinders can effectively capture some of the more bizarre mental phenomena of the Mythos—able to identify is a subject has been replaced by a Yithian, possessed by a Shan, or simply not human. These double or nonhuman brainwaves produce distinctive and discordant tones against the normal human baselines which are readily obvious. West recorded nearly a hundred cylinders while developing the device, and noted several such aberrations without being able to discern their source; these recordings have been kept and may be incriminating or insightful pieces of information to drop in the path of investigators. The Dreams in the Computer Room The 1910s were an important time in the development of the analog computer, elaborate and arcane devices that emulated a mathematical function or equation with an analogous electrical circuit or mechanical apparatus. Miskatonic University was not on the forefront of computer science, but Dr. Upham, a professor of mathematics requested space to build such a device on his own and out of his own pocket, and the university obliged. Upham had discovered a coded treatise in the Miskatonic University library, and engaged in a cryptographic analysis of it as a form of mental diversion. Cracking the code revealed the text of the treatise, parts of which Upham translated into strange and advanced equations—solve the equations, the book said, and reality itself would open up to him. Together with his graduate student Gilman, Upham built the device over the course of a summer and winter semester, and immediately began processing the equations in the

book. Gilman's involvement at this point dropped off, the mental tension from his studies taking their toll on him, and Upham became more erratic and concerned with the results being spit out by the machine. Even now, Upham or a graduate student often spends their nights tending the machine, and Upham has given strict instruction to his lazy students that no one is to fall asleep while on duty—ostensibly to prevent accidents, which have occurred from time to time. Physical Description The physical computer takes up the bulk of what was formerly a green house; the glass panes painted black and sealed against mice and insects. What is left of the space consists of several rows of dials and readouts for setting and monitoring the machine, and a small mail desk for students to process the inputs and outputs. Impressively, the computer includes a 16-line video monitor for producing visual outputs of certain spacial curves. The soft green glow is usually the only light available at night. When running, the machine is relatively loud by steadily hypnotic, with certain calculations producing interesting rhythms and counter-rhythms. Powers The book Upham decrypted and is in the process of processing is a Kabbalistic 17th century mathematical analysis of the Necronomicon, written by an occultist and philosopher in Prague. The "equations" that Upham is using the analog computer to solve through brute force are spells, but while the computer has the capability to process the equations, it cannot supply the Magic Points or POW to actually activate them. The results of Upham's research is thus often mixed, contradictory, and sometimes dangerous. Random supernatural events occur in the computer room, and depending on the equation being simulated may include the opening of temporary gates to other planes and the brief summoning of things from beyond. The occurrences have given rise to the superstition that the room is haunted, perhaps by Upham's former student, Walter Gilman. The Inmost Lightbulb One of the oddities and attractions of Arkham is the light bulb of the Arkham Firehouse, which has been operating continually since it was first installed in 1888. The peculiar bulb is made of crystal glass, molded into a faceted, gemlike shape around the outlet, which conceals the filament. The bulb (and the accompanying electrical wiring of the firehouse) was donated to Arkham by Shea Black, in honor of his parents Steven and Agnes Black; Shea later married into the local Whateley clan, and was buried in Dunwich. Electrical experts who have examined the bulb declare it to be unique; Black never sought a patent on the design and so far the Arkham Fire Marshal has refused to allow the bulb to be disconnected for examination, which would undoubtedly ruin the firehouse treasure. Physical Description The bulb itself is an octahedral prism, about three inches long and two in diameter, giving the appearance almost of a large faceted gem. The glass is deep red, and the unknown filament within burns with a bright, steady light. The socket itself has an ornamental brass plate over the box, molded with Pan-like figures.

Powers The Inmost Lightbulb is not an electric light source at all, and can be removed from the housing without dimming. The source of the light comes from an experiment by Shea's father, Steven Black, who believed that the human soul was an electromagnetic field— one that could be separated from the body, and contained in a vessel. The bulb was one step in the proof of that theory. Breaking the glass will release the trapped field, an entity similar to the Colour Out of Space. The Innsmouth Battery The Earth is a gigantic electrical system, and through the rock and stone, sea and surf surge the vast, subtle telluric currents. In the 1870s a local engineer believed he had discovered a "nexus" of such currents near the town of Innsmouth, Massachusetts, and attempted to raise money for a large sea battery that could provide electricity to the town—an alternative to the then-debated idea of damming the Miskatonic River. The town initially supported the idea, raising funds for the project, and even built a small model station on a "Goodman's Lot" behind the docks to supply power to several warehouses nearby. The fatal flaw in the project was when it was discovered that the most suitable site for the actual station was the shallow islet of Devil's Reef. Local reaction to the news was strong, particularly from the Esoteric Order of Dagon, and plans for the Innsmouth Battery were eventually scrapped. The model station, known as the Innsmouth Battery, is still in good repair and operation. Physical Description Kept within a small, unassuming building behind the Innsmouth docks, the bulk of the Innsmouth Battery consists of a switchboard and a large number of industrial capacitors. Two massive metal pipes extend into the water of the bay, and the trickle of current they picked up would be stored in the capacitors, then shunted elsewhere as necessary. The station produced only DC power, with an effectively limited range of one mile from the station. Powers The Innsmouth Battery remains a secondary electrical source in the town, with most of their power coming from alternating current plants following the Great Barrington Electrification. The station does produce far more electrical power than it should for a sea battery of its size, suggesting that the nameless engineer who built it might have been on to something. The Deep Ones are reluctant to approach the Battery, either by water or land, though their reasons for this are unknown. The Electric Pipe Smoking, since its introduction to European society, has not been universally embraced. Many decried the foul practice of inhaling the burning leaves, and doctors argued for centuries over the benefits provided by and maledictions caused by cigars, pipe tobacco, and snuff. Still, tobacco farming was a staple of the Colonial economies, and continued to be important long after the Revolution of 1776 and the War Between the States. Still, the debate over smoking continued, and in the 1880s an inventive young man resolved himself to find a better way to enjoy tobacco, without the clouds of noxious smoke. Malachi Garner had grown up on a small tobacco farm in western Massachusetts, and at

his majority had taken to the waves as a merchant seaman. He worked as a machinist's mate on the steamers to the Middle East, North Africa, and southern Spain before returning home. In his travels he had taken a peculiar interest in the hookah, or waterpipe, and with his knowledge of tobacco, steam boilers, and a few basic books on electricity, set out to build his own improved version. Garner's Electric Pipe, as he called it, was a minor sensation at home, and by the end of his life even managed a place in the Sears and Roebuck Catalog. Unfortunately, his heirs had no interest or skill to continue the business, and Garner's Electric Pipes became little more than a quaint curiosity. Physical Description The Electric Pipe is a hookah in miniature, and a typical model resembles some of the larger, heavier, and more elaborate Germanic pipes with a very long wooden stem illustrated many queer arabesque decorations. It weighs about three pounds fully loaded and is nearly two feet long, on average. The bowl is fully three inches in diameter, with separate places to insert the water and the tobacco; and a simple twist of a knob closes the screen over the bowl. A separate button activates an electric heating filament, igniting the tobacco, and the smoke is forced through several screens and then through the water chamber. Finally, the smoke is drawn up through the long stem, cooling it further before it reaches the lips. The battery holds an hour charge, which is normally sufficient to smoke a few ounces of tobacco or other smoke able substance. Powers Garner "seasoned" all of his Electric Pipes with tobacco and herbs from his family farm; the tarry residue of which coated the bowls and somewhat flavored the blend. Unfortunately, a malignancy lay in his plants from an earlier brush his family had with the Mythos, and something of this unnaturalness transferred into the pipes—to be activated by the passing of the electric current. Any given user has a cumulative 10% chance of the bowl acting as a Lamp of Alhazred when it is used. The Mechanical Mind Many have tried to create artificial life, artificial intellect. One man succeeded. Dr. Allan Halsey, in his student days, when he was young and willing to experiment with the dark sciences. The product of his experiment—a creation worthy of Shelley's fictional Frankenstein—escaped his hidden laboratory, and he has never seen it since. Sometimes, though, he thinks he has caught a reference to it in the papers—clippings of graverobbery, kidnapping, corpses found with their skulls opened with surgical skill, the brain removed. Over the years, the clippings grew fewer, and Halsey sometimes thought he imagined the mechanical mind…or, in his dark nights working with his student Herbert West, that it had grown better at covering its tracks. Physical Description The Mechanical Mind is a thinking engine, a complex electromechanical device, roughly twice the size of a human brain. Electrical wires extend into the ocular nerves and brainstem of a human corpse. Normally, the Mechanical Mind is installed in a human corpse whose skull has been opened and the brain removed; concealing the Mechanical Mind when it is installed requires a tall hat to be warn at all times.

Powers The Mechanical Mind is not an intelligence as humans understand it; the powers of true thought were beyond the skills and knowledge of Halsey. Rather, the Mechanical Mind is an analog of survival instinct—a self-perpetuating function given access to human form. When embodied, the Mechanical Mind can see through its stolen eyes and move its new body, although it cannot feel pain, hear, smell, or taste. Normally, it is dumb to the world, content merely to exist. While the body does not rot, precisely, the Mechanical Mind is very poor at maintaining its human form for extended periods, and must switch bodies about once a month. The rejected body may sometimes by mistaken by Mythos investigators as the handiwork of the Mi-Go. Squid Gun Things lurk in the shadows of cities that ought to crawl…criminals of the lowest calibre, who are not fit to share the presence of honorable men. In the heyday of violent crimes afflicting the American metropoli, vigilantes sometimes arose from among the citizenry to do what the police could not do openly. These characters found favor in the pulp publications of the time, mass entertainment indulging in mental orgies of vengeance, justice, and rightful comeuppance. Hidden here and there are accounts of true mystery men and women who employed strange methods to deal with stranger foes. One such mystery that baffled the police were a series of Boston Irish gangsters whose bodies were discovered riddled by holes—initially these appeared to be the standard remnants of some large-caliber weapon, but autopsies quickly revealed that the bodies had not just been penetrated—but that each slug had bored its way into the body, like some huge worm of the earth. The Celtic mob dispersed for a time, and the authorities never did understand the terrible weapon that had undone them. Physical Description The Squid Gun is a machine gun, with a cherrywood stock, a large barrel more suited to a shotgun, and an ammo drum, similar to but much larger than that on the familiar Thompson machine gun. The weapon is very plain in appearance, almost crude in parts, clearly a handcrafted item straight from the workshop and not a factory piece, and with no effort to "pretty it up." The ammunition consist of large paper-jacketed cartridges that rattle slightly if shaken. Powers The Squid Gun does not fire bullets, although custom ammunition suited to its caliber can be manufactured. Rather, it fires specially prepared immature Cthonians, who are tough enough to survive impact with anything short of thick steel plating at close range, or water. The water in a human body will cause the immature Cthonian to dissolve, and it will burrow incessantly in an effort to escape, causing grisly damage. The Squid Gun uses the stats for the Thompson machine gun, but each successful shot does an additional automatic 1d4 damage for 1d6 rounds. Project Pacemaker The U.S. Army Burial Corps was a branch of the service dedicated to the proper identification and disposal of the American military dead, with the general intent being to return the corpses of fallen soldiers to their native shore. The Burial Corps served with

quiet distinction for a number of years, before being re-organized as the Grave Registration Service during World War I. What is less well known is the reason for the reorganization—to cover up Project Pacemaker, a secret military initiative to capitalize on a vital technology that was too macabre for public support or endorsement: the reanimation of the dead. Based on the notes of Army surgeon Herbert West, Project Pacemaker developed a serum which, if applied immediately after a subject was deceased, could revitalize the tissues by fundamentally altering the subject's body chemistry. Time was a critical factor, however, with even the slightest of delays rendering the corpse a cannibalistic revenant. Still, the serum was so promising that the project was given the go ahead, and members of the Burial Corps were essential in tracking the success of the device…and covering up the project's mistakes. Physical Description The "device" is a small gold cylinder with a needle projecting out of the midsection. It would be installed under the skin, with the needle penetrating the cardiac tissue and a small wire leading up to a nearby nerve cluster. The wire was a simple sensor which would register lack of a heartbeat, in turn causing the serum to be pumped directly into the cardiac tissue. Earlier and bulkier versions of the "device" did exist, but these prototypes were all destroyed through use. Powers If triggered while the subject was alive—a distinct possibility should the subject's heartbeat become very irregular—the subject would die immediately. If activated immediately after death (75% chance), the subject would be revived almost instantaneously (reset H.P. to 1, 2d20/4d20 San Loss, gain Pursue Human Flesh 50%), in possession of most of their faculties and abilities—though still injured, they can heal, provided their diet consists almost entirely of raw meat. If there is a delay in the administration (25% chance), the subject effectively becomes a mindless cannibal (Pursue Human Flesh 99%), similar to but distinct from a ghoul—none of the creature's intellect survives the process, and it grows no claws or fangs.

The Forge of Mnar, And Other Tools
Many Mythos artifacts, magical or otherwise, do not exist for the benefit of the player characters. They are not prizes to be won as much as mysteries to be unveiled, perils to be overcome, or arcane macguffins that the villain-of-the-session requires. Those few devices which do have an obvious or utilitarian purpose are often impractical to use, or at least to keep, barring extreme measures, and many Keepers actively work to prevent the investigators from collecting all the cool stuff they find when they defeat the cultists. These tools presented below are different. They are designed to be dropped into a campaign in order to provide assistance to the player characters, particularly at times of dire peril, and they are written to be useful and used when the time comes. The Forge of Mnar The Forge of Mnar was discovered in 1804 during the excavation in Caermaen, Wales. With no idea of its provenance or origin, it was moved to storage in the town‘s small local museum. In 1889, a graduate student named James Effington from London was visiting Caermaen when he recognized the design of the artifact. He had seen a similar

device from a woodcut illustration in the expurgated Nameless Cults. Effington wrote a brief article on the device, which was included in the 1890 issue of Archeologica Cambrensis. Effington, on his return to London, published a small pamphlet with more details and a photograph of the Forge side-by-side with a copy of the illustration from Nameless Cults. In the winter of 1890 the museum reported that the artifact was missing from its collection, presumably sold on the illicit antiquities market. Physical Description The Forge of Mnar is a small, conical kiln similar in many respects to an assayer‘s furnace, crafted from glazed ceramic bricks that have been fused or cemented together. The bottom is a slightly elliptical circle 19.5 inches (0.5 m) in diameter, and about 15.6 inches (0.4 m) high. The artifact weighs nearly 100 lbs (45 kg). The chambers of the kiln are accessible via small ceramic sliding doors; the middle door contains a tray with five star-shaped indentations. Five thin bronze pipes, about 10 inches (39 cm) long emerge from the base of the device. Powers The Forge of Mnar is used to cast Forge Star-Stones of Mnar, which may be discovered from Effington‘s pamphlet or another appropriate source.

New Mythos Spell 4 Forge Star-Stones of Mnar
This is a ritual spell that requires five participants and a Forge of Mnar; only the leader need actually know the spell. Each casting of the spell requires 2.2 lbs. (1 kg) of sand or powdered stone from a stream bed that contains copper or gold. Each of the participants blows through the pipes, forcing air into the coal chamber and heating the forge. This process takes an hour, and slowly extracts 6 POW from each of the participants. As the Forge heats up, it begins to glow, and green sparks or flames may leap out from the edges of the doors. After the last POW is expended, the leader must quickly remove open the middle door and remove the tray—if performed correctly, it will contain five perfectlyformed star-stones. The leader loses 1d6 SAN for looking into the Forge as they remove the tray. A star-stone of Mnar acts as both an Elder Sign and Pinn‘s Crux Ansata for all purposes. It is a raised star about 1 inch (3.9 cm) long and weighs one ounce (28 g). The Forge in the Game The Forge of Mnar represents a great source of protection to the wise investigator, and a considerable threat to many Mythos entities. The investigators may be interested in recovering the Forge for their own use, on the behalf of a benefactor, or simply to prevent it from being destroyed. The Hammer of Eibon Several Medieval French translations of the Book of Eibon, like other grimoires of the period, gives instructions to the aspiring magus on how to construct various tools and ritual paraphernalia for use in the Art. The vast majority of such sections are considered,

by the few literary and historical experts who are expert in the area, as interpolations of material from other grimoires to "fill out" the sections on sorcery to meet the expectations of the would-be learned magicians of the era. The exception to this, an item which appears to be original to the Book of Eibon, is a description of a jeweler's hammer that Eibon mentions several times in reference to the forging of magical rings. Physical Description A Hammer of Eibon is about 33 centimeters long, with both a flat heptagonal striking surface and a rounded, blunt hook on the head. The metal is a composition of iron alloys, or sometimes a light steel, and almost always has a distinct purplish patina. The handle is wrapped in seven layers or strands of elk leather. Some examples add a metal ring around the base of the hammer, although other examples lack this. Many extant hammers are mere fragments, broken from excessive use. Powers The Hammer of Eibon halves the Magic/POW cost of any other Enchant spell (rounded up) it is used with.

New Mythos Spell 5 Enchant Hammer of Eibon
Each Hammer of Eibon is unique, and the directions given generally insist that the hammer be crafted by hand and incorporate certain specific ores—which are very difficult for modern characters to access, as the mines referred to are currently buried beneath glacial ice, in the ruins of Hyperborea and Mhu Thulan—that produce certain iron alloys, which are folded together in a specific manner. The whole thing is cast as a piece, and dipped into an alchemical acid bath, which lends it a unique purplish patina that can last for centuries. When the ablutions are complete, the handle wrapped seven times in elk leather. The magician must sacrifice a permanent point of POW to finish the Hammer, and most set a ring of metal with their seal or sign upon the handle. The Hammer in the Game The Hammer is a tool for magicians, and can potentially disrupt a game where the player characters can essentially "mass produce" magic items. However, in a campaign where magical weapons are desperately needed—to fend off an invasion of fire vampires, or other Mythos critters—the Hammer may be very useful, at least for a few sessions. Keepers may wish to rule that the Hammer has a % chance of breaking after use equal to 10 x (number of Magic Points spent in the Enchant spell). The Shoggoth-Stick In the Banana Wars of early 20th century, the United States would send military expeditions into South America to further US national interests. These were quiet conflicts for those not directly involved in them, and the military personnel involved often found themselves engaged in strange territories, unmapped by white men since the time of the conquistadors…a time that, for many of those descended from the native peoples of the Carib and Mesoamerica, never truly ended. One such operation on the isle

of Haiti around 1915 found a group of U.S. Marines in conflict with a voodoo-worshiping revolutionary faction, led by American expatriate Randolph Delapore. The action became quite heated, but the Marines' superior arms and skill gradually triumphed over the superior numbers and strange fanaticism that kept the human waves of voodoo worshippers coming for them, even when injured unto death. The officers were both killed, and the surviving sergeant took as trophy a peculiar old metal stick that Delapore had used as part of his panoply. The Shoggoth-Stick remained in the sergeant's possession until he died of Spanish Flu in his home town of Arkham n 1918. Physical Description The Shoggoth-Stick is just over a meter long and two centimeters in diameter, narrowing to a point for the last eight centimeters on one end and curved at the other into a fist-sized knob six centimeters in diameter, reminiscent of a cabbage sculpted of ice that has begun to melt. The stick is made up of an aluminum alloy, very light for its size, and scratched and dented in places from years of use—indeed, it is very difficult to make out the extant of the original filigree that decorated the stick, which was done in a very fine silver wire that has blackened with age, and even broken away in places. Powers The Shoggoth-Stick was used in ancient times by the Elder Things to facilitate their control of the shoggoths, and its particular design and construction was used to focus and direct the thought-impulses that could guide the shoggoths, direct them, even cause them to split and join together. In the hands of any other person or entity, the Shoggoth-Stick can only feebly and intermittently direct these commands—the character holding it may effectively use their social skills, such as Intimidate, on the inhuman shoggoths. The Stick in the Game Shoggoths are troublesome beasts, and even the hint of a device that can possibly direct them would be highly drooled-over by many knowledgeable investigators. It would perhaps be best for the stick to be placed in the campaign far in advance of any shoggoth encounters, only later to reveal its powers. The Mummifier The Egyptian craze that swept Europe in the late nineteenth century encouraged many con artists and simple business men to cash in on the fad, and one of those men was Earl Carver, from the village of Gotham in England. Carver had paid for an education in chemistry as a gravedigger, and after completing his studies he tried many times in vain to market his various elixirs for bodily health and (to morticians) preservation. His efforts failed until he presented the Mummifier to an excited London crowd in 1889—a mechanical device which produced, in the space of a few minutes, the effect of rendering a recent corpse into the state similar to a millennia-old Egyptian mummy. A spectacular exhibition was made, with leading Egyptologists viewing the results before and after the Mummifier had finished, and those who came out to debunk the device—some providing their own corpses, specially marked for the purpose—were dumbfounded at the machine's success. The Mummifier earned Carver a modest fortune in a short period of time, but he was unable or unwilling to duplicate the device, and claimed no patents on it. The mystery of the machine was sadly lost in a fire, when the many hundreds of yards of

linen wrappings and bitumen Carver kept stored were consumed in a blaze started from a carelessly-flung match. Physical Appearance The Mummifier takes up an entire room, some 10' x 10'x 12', and has three separate sections, with the corpse led through via a conveyor-belt like assembly. The first room is shielded from view, with the corpse only barely visible through smoky glass, and even then only with the aid of the powerful electrical arcs in the room itself, which are supposed to do the bulk of the mummification process. The next room has the body lowered into a chemical bath, and drawn up again by means of hooks and transported into the third room, where the body is wrapped in linen. The entire process is mechanical and automated, with the occasional nudge of a dial by Carver, and powered by means of a large coal-powered steam engine set outside the Mummifier itself. Powers The secret of the Mummifier lies in the first room, where the corpse is exposed to the mummifying gaze of Ghatanothoa, via a small bronze shield bearing the Demon God's likeness. This veritable Aegis is potent against any body—living or dead—that meets its gaze, and the living brains of those exposed may be trapped in their mummified corpse for all eternity. Where Carver found the shield is unknown. Using the Mummifier in the Mythos The Mummifier is an onion artifact, with the central mystery—how it works—concealing the greater and more terrible mystery of the aegis at the heart of the machine, where Carver obtained it and its ultimate origin and purpose. Even without the machine itself, evidence of his finding the aegis can provide material for a campaign to discover its current whereabouts, and who else is interested in the ghastly icon. The Flint Knife London is not known for barbarity, even the lowliest of its cutthroats and brutes shows a preference for the tools of the Industrial Age. This is what makes the murder in 472 Cheyne Walk so peculiar—the weapon was a flint knife, identical to those rude tools from the earliest age of man, when he shared the world with Neanderthals, before he had conquered iron or even bronze—and it was freshly made, with a sharp and effective cutting edge that did terrific damage on the corpse. Inspectors from Scotland Yard puzzled over the case, until finally finding a suspect in the person of an ailing and alcoholic American Indian, visiting London as part of a circus. While in no way a credible physical threat, it was known that some Indians in the American Southwest were avid flint-knappers, able to shape a rough blade very quickly by chipping away at the stone. The Indian—a Mr. John Bad Water—declared his innocence, although he also admitted to having some dealings with the deceased, who he claim robbed him of some token artifact that the old Indian had brought with him from America, the last remnant of his heritage. The artifact could not be found in the vicinity of 472 Cheyne Walk, and so it was postulated that the murderer—if not Bad Water, than some associate of his—had committed the crime in the middle of a robbery, and that Bad Water had supplied the weapon. After a brief trial, the Indian was found guilty of a lesser charge and sentenced

to prison for a term of years; the flint knife found its way into the Black Museum of Scotland Yard. Physical Description The dagger is only eleven centimeters long, and is made of a dark grey flint stone. One end is wrapped with leather cord to make a handle, while the other one has been carefully and skillfully chipped to make a serviceable blade. The chips are regular and concave, on both sides, but with no real point—this is a cutting tool, suitable for slashing or chopping but not stabbing. Powers The dagger is enchanted, as the Enchant Knife and a variant of the Enchant Sacrificial Dagger spells. This particular version of the latter spell is attuned to the little people of Native American folklore—although, as Bad Water discovered, it is equally potent to call the little people out of the English hills. Using the Knife in the Mythos The flint knife is an example of one of the lesser-known strengths of the Mythos, which is finding a bridge between two disparate mythological elements. In this case, the "little people" or "fairy folk" of England and the Americas are said to be the same—or at least, answer to the same spells and enchantments. Keepers interested in this sort of campaign might try combining elements of Manly Wade Wellman's The Golden Goblins with Arthur Machen's The Red Hand, and see how investigators in London react when Native American magic meets and mixes with Old English boggarts and druidism—and perhaps discovers the horrifying secret behind them both.

For Love of Books!
Nowadays in an age of ebooks and mass-market paperbacks, it's easy to forget how for thousands of years cultures have tried to inculcate a respect, even reverence for the written word. Before the advent of printing, books were rare and valuable commodities, representing a tremendous investment of physical and mental effort to produce and reproduce. Even into this century, former rural and poverty-stricken individuals cite the ownership or reading of books as critical in their success and development. Many bibliophiles and antiquarians continue to adore and covet books, at least those that pertain to their interests. This reverence for books is something that keepers can use in their Call of Cthulhu games. In a game which can often end with the players burning a Mythos tome (or refuse to read any book for fear of SAN loss), it's fun and sometimes useful to twist their instincts back on them. Instead of using books as an excuse for a Library Use roll or to pump up the investigator's Cthulhu Mythos skill another couple percentiles, books can be used as an introductory hook for an adventure. Below are a handful of ideas for how you can apply this concept in your own games. Book Burning A burnt, damaged, or otherwise fragmentary book is a wonderful hook for a game. The more damaged the book is, the happier the investigators are if they can get the tiniest bit of information out of it. The trick is to make them work for it. Let the cultist (or priest,

madman, psychologist, etc.) throw the book into a blazing fire and have the investigators fight to fish it out. Have the investigators raid the cultist's house, only to find the walls stripped bare…and smoking ashes in the oven where a corner of a book still remains. Book burning is so tied into the popular imagination that most players will automatically react against it—even if the books involved are denounced as ―evil‖ or ―obscene.‖ If an investigator catches ―Necron-― on the cover of a book about to be consigned to the flames, they might just tackle the thrower before they can add it to the bonfire. The Dead God's Book Books age. Clay and stone tablets crumble. Metal scrolls corrode and rust. The Dead God's Book (taken from the Michael Moorcock tale of the same name) is the essential MacGuffin, a treasure that everyone seeks but which is ultimately worthless, having aged to nothingness. Imagine opening Ibn Schabao's tomb, and lying on the pedestal is a perfect and complete copy of Al Azif…but the moment you touch it, the ancient paper turns to dust, the book crumbling before you. The nice thing about the Dead God's Book is that it provides an immediate and obvious motivation for both PCs and NPCs…and it's okay if the NPC wins. Let the evil sorcerer William Whateley gain the ancient Scroll of R‘lyeh—only to have see that the copper has corroded into a solid mass, the characters on it illegible. His whole scheme will be in ruins, and the PCs will get to witness his failure and humiliation. Wallpaper The thing about madness it that it is pointless—many a bibliophile has bemoaned when a book is not seen as valuable for the knowledge it contains, but as a source of raw material. Imagine visiting an ancient rustic cabin in the woods, to find a fragment of the Necronomicon in the outhouse, used as toilet paper. Madmen occultists will paper their walls with books and deface the pages, trying to discern some connection which may exist only in their demented minds. Children often draw on books, coloring on them for no other reason than it is the only paper available for them. This trope was actually much more prevalent in earlier eras, when vellum and papyrus was rarer, and old books might be scraped off so new words could be written on the pages. Word Eater Of all the forms of destruction, one of the strangest is the compulsion to eat a page from a book. This is less bizarre than it sounds, as many occult traditions include some variant of the ritualist washing the ink of a page with wine and consuming it as part of a spell or potion. Madmen devoid of any other means of destroying a book may eat it, as would those who are starving and dying of hunger. Finally, torn pages from a book may be left with a corpse as part of a message to others—such as the infamous Black Spot of Treasure Island.

Madness By The Book
Mythos tomes take on a lot of the focus of the setting. The books are like telephone lines back in time, connecting the readers with distant, pre-human era. Aside from the secrets they might transmit, books can focus a scene or adventure. Even unopened, the threat or promise of a book can affect the minds of PCs and NPCs. Sometimes, this is just

overreaction—too many Mythos tomes under their belts, and players are liable to get a bit skittish or greedy. Other times…books can drive a person into madness. The library stretched to the rafters. Every shelf groaned with books with suggestive titles. Giles stared, wonderingly, at an entire shelf of notes on the Necronomicon, each as thick as one of the encyclopedia volumes hawked by door to door sellers. It was a treasure to rival lost Alexandria. "Don't be too impressed." Earl said. "I suspect he wrote most of them himself." Graphomania Some people write. Some people can't stop writing. The graphomaniac is the latter. They write as a compulsion, hands crabbed and arthritic beyond their years from holding a pen too tightly for too many hours, or in these modern days and nights blunt and bloody from pounding at the typewriter. Some of them will write until the ink runs out, until the paper runs out, until they‘re writing on the floors, and walls, and bedsheets in their own blood… In the Mythos, graphomania can be a relatively common affliction. Broken minds faced with the indescribable may try to make sense of their terrible insight by putting them to words. Only the words don't come like they're supposed to. So they can't stop writing. Ever. For NPCs: An NPC with graphomania is a good excuse for a massive library without handing the players dozens or hundreds of Mythos tomes. A good Library Use roll or two will pan the gold from the stream of pages. Graphomania is also common for survivors of Mythos events, and can be a fun work-around for otherwise uncommunicative NPCs. For PCs: Probably the best use of this affliction in PCs is emphasizing the unconscious, uncontrollable desire to write—the PC might wake up at night to find a missive in their own handwriting, or look down and see they've scrawled out something blasphemous during a conversation. Graphomania is sometimes tied to lesser forms of kleptomania, where the PC instinctively steals pens and paper so they can write it out later. Giles pulled a random book of the shelf, some treatise on obscure physics, and let the pages spill open. They lettering was modern black typeface, but around the margins, in the lines between the paragraphs, in every bit of open space was an unhealthy scrawl of spidery script. Horror Vacui The abhorrence of blank space is a common minor quirk of scholars. In its most extreme form, it's a bit like graphomania—the person scrawls notes and pictures to fill the blank parts of the page. Librarians and scholars sometimes love and sometimes hate marginalia, depending on who read it and what they've added to the text, but the person that carries around the horror vacui with them is beyond the occasional insightful jotting. It‘s like a disease that consumes them. Someone with this madness cannot keep themselves from

defacing the book…any book. In the Mythos, the horror vacui usually takes scholarly wizards and artists, like Joseph Curwen or Richard Pickman. At its least severe, the margins of letters and correspondence might be filled with small hand-drawn illustrations; in the extreme the text of the book may be nearly overwritten. For NPCs: This is a great way to hide a Mythos book or hook in plain sight. An NPC afflicted with this might scrawl a clue in the margins of a phone directory, or reproduce a minor Mythos tome line-by-line in the margins of an otherwise innocuous copy of Shakespeare. At the Keeper's option, the marginalia of a particularly knowledgeable wizard might actually add to the value of a Mythos tome. For PCs: This PC is up for many reprimands when the local librarian gets ahold of them, or even their fellow players. The investigator is likely to almost ruin any Mythos tome in the process of studying it, or at least leave no doubt for the next reader who has read it before. Earl put down the spade, and wiped the earth away from the cover. The dark wooden boards with wet and moldy, and a fat pale worm crawled across the surface. With trembling hands, Earl reached down and wrenched the book free of the earth. The scuttling horrors revealed from beneath scuttled back downwards towards some unknown hell. Bibliotaphy Burying books is not a common occurrence, and the desire to do so doesn't come across people often. Often the practice is associated with certain occult traditions, which believe that the most potent and sinful books must be buried properly to properly dispose of it. In other cases, people bury books—and other objects—for less concrete reasons. For them, burying a book might be an instinct, a habit. Maybe they want to keep the evil lore hidden away from others, or to save and protect them in some way. The details of the belief matter little to most, only the result. In the Mythos, books can be an albatross around a character's neck. The terrible knowledge is a burden on their sanity, and even possessing such books can be dangerous to them. For those who can't bring themselves to burn a book, burying it might be an acceptable—even attractive—alternative. For NPCs: An NPC bibliotaph in the campaign means it's time to break out the shovels and treasure maps. Real-world bibliotaphers are usually indiscriminate in what they bury, but not always where. In a CoC campaign, the NPC might be a grave-keeper who inters frightful books in among the shelves of catacombs and stacked high in mausoleums. For PCs: PC bibliotaphs are trickier; the Keeper should probably encourage the player to decide where they bury their books. Scholars and book-lovers are going to definitely look

askance at any player should this activity manifest itself, forcing the player to invent elaborate excuses as they try to conceal their unsettling behavior.

Cured!
People rarely change, and even when they do only a little. Profound changes in personality and mental state are often the result of injury, illness, or external influence, like a Mythos encounter. Psychologists, psychiatrists, and medical doctors generally know that profound changes in a patient's mental state are unusual without recourse to medication (and occasionally surgery) and most are generally skeptical of any claim of such success by a technique. Patients, who generally don't know any better, are more prepared to except radical claims and changes, some of which may be temporary or purely placebic in nature, hence the ability of faith healers, hypnotists, and cunning-men to enact miraculous changes in the credulous. Mythos investigators, by nature of their adventures, often find themselves spending brief ―vacations‖ in the local asylum, where a bit of respite, laudanum cocktails, learning to paint water-colours, and potentially experimental electro-shock therapy deals with the repeated blows to their sanity that musty old books and horrors from beyond time and space. After a few weeks or months of nourishing gruel, dried frog pills, and psychotherapy, the player characters are a little better able to withstand the horrors of the Mythos. Naturally, this may also present the keeper with an opportunity to have a little fun with the players. The basic idea is based on Lord Dunsany‘s The Bureau d'Echange de Maux. The player character has a specific phobia or insanity, goes in for their normal psychotherapy session where the therapist is trying a new ‗transference‘ technique, sitting them down with another patient with a psychosis of similar degree. The player character will come out ―cured‖ of their phobia or illness! What the investigator doesn‘t know, of course, is that in place of their old phobia or insanity is a new one, the one possessed by the other patient involved in the transference process. This new phobia or madness may not immediately be obvious. For example, an investigator that developed a phobia of fish after losing a few too many sanity points to Deep Ones sightings may have it replaced by a fear of spiders—which they don't realize until the investigator actually encounters one. The sudden change in the character can be the hook for the start of a new adventure— perhaps the psychotherapist is using a technique based on a Mythos volume, or technology derived from the Fungi from Yuggoth. Perhaps the character inadvertently was guided to the Dreamlands during a session, and the Bureau d'Echange de Maux is actually there. Trying to trace back what happened to them could lead to an exploration of the Dreamlands in general.

The Cult Circular, and Other Pernicious Pamphlets
Mythos cults are a widely diverse lot, some with their origins set in prehistory, others distinctly modern in style and organization (for whatever period constitutes ―modern‖ in your game). The character of the cult depends a lot on the members that constitute its

body. Cults that follow the idea of ancient survivals from pagan times, particularly in more rural areas or the slums of the cities, may well be made up almost entirely of illiterate or semi-literate members. More modern cults, or ones that seek to attract more affluent and influential members to their societies, will by contrast be made up of a much more literate group, and may don the guise and ape the mannerisms of other and more acceptable societies, clubs, etc. Of course, there‘s nothing to say that strange admixtures are not possible, or even common—quite well-educated foreigners may find themselves constrained in their circumstances living in an alien city, and poor university students may find themselves falling in with high and low classes of the social and educational stratum depending on their adventures and studies. Seekers of the occult, of any level of education and knowledge, may be willing to deal with anyone who has access to what they seek. For the illiterate cult, news and information is generally spread by word of mouth, or at best by secret signs scrawled on walls or pieces of paper. In the 1890s or 1920s, however, the growth of literacy and the wide availability of printing make other options possible— even attractive. The relative openness of freemasons, Theosophists, and occultists such as the Ordo Templi Orientis and the Golden Dawn, at least in the spiritual awakening at the end of the nineteenth century, makes it possible to advertise and disseminate knowledge widely in circulars, broadsides, pamphlets, and even mail correspondence courses. These written materials often constitute a significant part of any cult or cultist's library (should the investigator get the chance to rifle through it), and in some very unusual circumstances may even be equivalent to a minor tome. Broadsides, Pamphlets, and Posters These papers are generally printed quickly, and cheaply. The paper doesn‘t last long, and broadsides pasted on walls or telephone poles are often covered over in a matter of days—even hours in major cities. Such materials provide the barest hint of information— the name of a group, or of a particular occultist giving a lecture or demonstration of their Arts, and a time and place. Still, this can be very valuable information to investigators trying to track down a particular individual involved with the cult, or to find some trace of their next meeting. Careful and clever investigators will scope out the meeting site ahead of time, and if it is not a private home may even talk with the owner or administrator on pretense of renting the location themselves—the owner may even give them a tour of the space! Pamphlets are generally more substantial, running to up to a dozen pages, but no less cheaply printed and ephemeral. These small booklets typically go slightly more into depth about the nature of the organization's beliefs, or the supposed history of the individuals running the operation. Some pamphlets are even printed to revile and ridicule such groups and individuals, printed by competitors or angry fellow members that wish to expose the groups for frauds or heretics. It is unusual for a pamphlet to contain any Occult or Mythos knowledge.

Circulars, News Sheets and Magazines The more organized societies and occult fraternities, due to their more literary and scholarly interests (and dues), typically put out a monthly or quarterly publication detailing the activities of the society, dates and times for the next meetings and rituals, and other matters of interest. A single publication, depending on the contents, may or may not contain much in the way of Mythos or Occult information. The more serious occult, anthropological, or Mythos society journals could include damnable hints and revelations, or even a translation (workable or not) or a spell from some other source. Complete runs of such cult publications are often kept in the cult's library for reference. Circulars and magazines generally require the services of a professional printer, and these businessmen often keep records of their customers, even mailing lists when the publisher and printer are the same company. Investigators can learn much by finding out who pays the printer and supplies their material, or even find a list of members from them. The more secretive organizations typically keep membership and subscriptions private, but public societies whose studies unknowingly tinge on the Mythos are much less likely to cover their tracks in this manner. Sample Magazine:

New Mythos Tome 5 The Epistle of Dagon
The Epistle of Dagon (Samhain, 1860 issue; Obediah Marsh, Editor; English) The quarterly publication of the Esoteric Order of Dagon in Innsmouth, Massachusetts, marketed mainly to the more literate and upper-class members of the society who have taken at least the second oath—although some few associates and members of the society as far away as Kingsport and Arkham receive copies as well. The Epistle is a scholarly and religious work, in the vein of many amateur press publications produced by evangelical and mystic-minded groups of various denominations. The principle section is typically a lengthy essay by Obediah Marsh himself, followed by a scattering of news items and almanac-style advice relevant to fishing, the tides and phases of the moon, and cult esoterica. Other articles and items are provided by contributors, such as hymns, poetry, comparative studies of Dagon-like figures in other religions, and excerpts from old tomes that are relevant. Sanity Loss 0/1; Cthulhu Mythos +0 percentiles; 1 week to study and comprehend. Spells: A variant of Attract Fish; this version does not require any Magic Points be spent, but only works in salt water, and only when Marsh's advice and instructions are followed—which includes specifically when to set out, what strange bait to use, what hymn to Dagon must be sung, and that the first catch be ritually gutted and given back to the water. If the spell is cast and the latter is not done, the spell will never work for that individual again. Correspondence Courses Mail correspondence courses are relatively new things, dependent on they are on widespread literacy and interest in self-improvement, but aimed at individuals who lack the means or availability to go to schools, or who are looking to become learned in subjects that regular schools do not teach. Occult societies in particular may focus on the

elucidation of their paying brethren by mail-order courses, which are sent out either at once (in the form of a large parcel of texts and materials), or incrementally as the subject advances. The proof of their further skills and knowledge being given from the mail correspondence between the student and the teacher, in the form of written tests, essays, drawings, letters, and the like. Like a magazine, a single piece of correspondence generally does not constitute a tome. However, taking an entire correspondence course from a cult or society does mimic very well the process of reading and understanding a Mythos or occult tome. Correspondence courses may thus be an effective way for new investigators to ―bone up‖ on their Occult (and, more rarely, Cthulhu Mythos) or other academic skill within the confines of a campaign. It also gives the other investigators something to do when one of their fellows is busy spending week after week reading and studying a moldering book they found in the library. Sample Correspondence Course:

New Mythos Tome 6 The Left Hand Path
The Left Hand Path; Learn the Secrets of the Angels in 13 Weeks (c.1919, Jude I. Scariotti, English) Jude I. Scariotti (AKA Simeon Economou) is a student at Boston University, majoring in Classics. He has a substantial interest in the occult, thanks to a trunk he inherited from his grandfather which contained almost the whole corpus Hermeticum, and uses the correspondence course as a means to help pay his tuition. That said, unlike other courses, Economou takes pains to be accurate in his teachings, and to do his best to see that his students get their money's worth. By the end of the course, which generally runs $300, a graduate will receive a handsome certificate from Economou and their course materials will be a good start on building their own Hermetic library. Sanity loss 0/1; 13 weeks to study and comprehend; +20% Occult skill. Spells: None, unless the investigator has paid for the Advanced Course ($500), in which case Scariotti will include a sheet of virgin parchment with the formula for the Baneful Dust of Hermes Trimegistus.

Pages of Darkness
The following attributes are options for Keepers to use in their campaign. They do not replace or undercut the traditional role of books, Mythos or otherwise but are designed to complement and enhance the roles books play in Call of Cthulhu. These are tools for the Keeper to use to expand the role of a book in a campaign, or to act as counterpoint to the main thread of the narrative by providing a minor, associated mystery or subplot for the investigators to encounter or unravel. When used with a non-Mythos book, these items can provide a central focus for a relatively low-key adventure. The Black Page Source Inspiration: The Lost Club by Arthur Machen, Letters of Cold Fire by Manly Wade Wellman, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

The investigator turns a fragile leaf, and instead of the expected cleanly-printed white or yellowed piece of vellum, they come across a solid sheet of ebony. The Black Page is traditionally an ill omen for whoever turns to it, and in traditional bibliomancy or drawing of lots, turning to the Black Page fore spells doom for he who turned to it. In some circles the idea has such currency that the ―Black Page‖ or ―Black Spot‖ is deliberately passed to an individual by a society, marking them out as one doomed or damned. Whether this has any actual supernatural effect on the individual in question depends mostly on the Keeper, but the nature and awareness of a ―curse‖ or ―doom‖ is often more effective on the psyche of the targeted individual than any actual handicap they may possess. In a more occult use, the Black Page represents the unreadable and unknown, with only the initiated adepts able to penetrate the secrets contained within that inscrutable ink-dark sheet. Mythos books may contain entire sections in black, only viewable under certain lights or conditions. The most famous use of this may be the "letters of cold fire" in Manly Wade Wellman's short story of the same name, which became visible only in absolute darkness as a form of anti-light, but the basic concept of such supernatural secret writings is well-known in fantasy and occult circles—such as the runes on the Dwarf map in Tolkein's The Hobbit which only appear in moonlight, or the writing on Dwrnwyn in Lloyd Alexander's The Chronicles of Prydain, which require the light of a magical bauble to reveal their faded meaning. The Black Page may also be an excuse to introduce Scenario: The Terrible Parchment. The Fur Bookmark Source Inspiration: Hellstorm as written by Warren Ellis, that one episode of Gummy Bears The Fur Bookmark is a thin strip of animal hide, worn smooth by the passage of many years and many hands, flattened by decades entombed between pages of lore. The animal that provided the strip went extinct many years ago, and was an ancestor to humanity— before we had lost our protective coating of fur, and risen to true sapience. In those distant times, those pre-human ancestors were enslaved—and sacrificed—by races that predate mankind, and this small fragment of them was created by them for a simple and terrible purpose. Alone and by itself, the Fur Bookmark is innocuous if morbid; it‘s origin is horrifying and fantastic to some, but unlikely to inspire outright terror…until its hidden power and purpose is realized. Books, even Mythos books, become damaged. Sometimes by the passage of times, otherwise by the work of furious hands, which tear and burn at a work that has been preserved for centuries (or longer) awaiting the time when the black knowledge on its pages will be used for the purpose it was intended. A hot enough fire will burn anything, and many a Keeper and investigator has kept a copy of the Necronomicon or other mighty tome out of the hands of those unworthy (or all too willing) to use it through fire or some other medium. The Fur Bookmark, for its part, is immune to such simple ravages—and when placed on the ash or remains of the damaged book with which it is

associated, the Fur Bookmark will turn back the pages of time and restore the book to its previous state. Pages will reconstitute themselves, unblackening and uncurling as if some unseen fire worked in reverse, and all the fading and discoloration of age and misuse will reverse itself in moments until the book is like new. The Fur Bookmark is a saving point, used for Keepers to reintroduce a damaged or destroyed book into a campaign—for good or ill. With this simple device, a copy of the Necronomicon or some other major Mythos tome may be encountered more than once, even after the players have thought they have rid the world of it, either to empower a new cultist or so they may use the damnable magics within to stave off a more immediate evil—after the investigators have made a suitable quest to recover the relic from wherever it currently resides. The inviolable nature of a book so protected is useful for reinforcing the scope of the investigator's efforts—while they may inconvenience the Mythos for a time, a true and eternal victory is impossible. The Lost Page Source inspiration: The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez Reverte, Wilbur Whateley Waiting by Robert M. Price One of the key concepts behind the creation of books is the creation of an immutable source of knowledge—once something has been written, it cannot be rewritten. If the contents of a book changed from time to time, they could no longer be trusted. When such a foundation of existence is brought into question, it may seem to those people affected as if they are going mad. The Lost Page (or, if you prefer, the Missing Reference, the Absent Chapter, the Final Appendix, etc.) is a portion of the book which is there once when the reader first consults it, but which is no longer there on a subsequent readthrough. The absence is usually not noted by any glaring evidence—no fragments of a ripped page, for example—and the numbering of the pages (if the pages are numbered or indexed) is not affected. The mechanism of the Lost Page is less that the offending scrap of paper has wandered off, or that the book has a malevolent will and is working against the reader (though those would be fun to play with), but that certain parts of the book are simply ―locked‖—while they exist and are written, normal individuals skip over the pages, automatically and without thinking or noticing, according to a programmed mental impulse. Thus, a normal person may read the whole Necronomicon cover to cover without finding any magical spells or needing any Sanity checks, whereas another may read the ―lost‖ pages and discover the dark truths kept in those secret leaves. The Lost Page is a tool for the Keeper to introduce this concept to the players, by drawing their attention to the phenomenon that previously they had simply passed over. It works very well for an introductory campaign, particularly one where Mythos literature is reasonably well-known, but the truth of the Mythos is secret.

The Bookworld Source inspiration: Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series, The Neverending Story, Reading Rainbow, the Myst series Some books, to paraphrase Warren Ellis, are a universe unto themselves. While it is often said metaphorically that books will take you anywhere, most investigators and Keepers do not take this to its literal extreme. Many Mythos stories take as their central assumption the idea that a reader can get drawn in to a story, either finding themselves living out the details of the Mythos they have only read about, or else find themselves bodily drawn into a fantastic landscape. These are bookworlds, and Keepers may find them an interesting and useful tool for bringing investigators out of their element. There are, in general, three routes to take. The first and most common (perhaps) is that an investigator suddenly or by degrees finds themselves in a world or time and place as described in the book. This is typically, in the metaphysics of Call of Cthulhu, a specialized Dreamland or, at worst, a case of astral projection through time and space. Here, the players may glimpse or even participate in events that are far removed from their typical fair, but suffer less Sanity loss due to the dream-like logic they operate under. This is an ideal method of running a one-off scenario set in another game, such as Cthulhutech, Trail of Cthulhu, etc., as the player characters return to their ―proper‖ time and place, even if they should ―die‖, without upsetting the current game. The second route is where the world transforms around the investigators as they read the book, until this world becomes the Bookworld. This could be a subtle but pervasive magic that shifts reality, a symptom of the onset of madness, or just a greater perception of the strangeness of the world and the dark things that yet dwell in it. The stars on the flag may replace themselves with pentagrams, and cthulhuspawn catch themselves in fishing nets with no one the wiser. Keepers who like a remedy for such a situation (which calls for more intense and frequent Sanity checks), may allow the investigator to read the book backwards in an effort to cancel out the effect (hey, there's literary precedent). The third route is where the elements of the narrative in the book begin to apply to the investigators—this is subtly different from the one above, because instead of elements of the world becoming true a specific series of events begin to occur—and will not cease even if the player characters stop reading. Mythos tomes are particularly noted for their attachment to certain curious, repetitive corruptions and tragedies that occur to their owners and the more learned occultists speak knowingly of dangerous initiations that once begun, must proceed. The Worm That Gnaws Source inspiration: ―The nethermost caverns are not for the fathoming of eyes that see; for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws: till out of corruption horrific life springs,

and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth's pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.‖ –H.P. Lovecraft, The Festival Books, when you get right down to it, are typically little more than wood pulp, wooden or paper boards as a cover, and starchy glue used as binding. Some books may have more animal products (leather covers, vellum pages, blood for ink, etc.), but in the whole books are mostly organic, and their lifecycle is that of a dead thing. Some, like the mummies of ancient Egypt and Peru, are carefully preserved for long periods of time. Others are left to rot, growing molds and fungi, and attracting insects which eat through the pages. ―Book worms‖ as certain insect larvae are called, are the bane of many old libraries. Sitting quietly on the shelf, the copy of De Vermis Mysteriis may slowly be riddled by deathwatch beetles and other borers, blotting out important punctuation, letters…even whole words. The Worm That Gnaws is peculiar to the Mythos however, because it holds within it the pearl of consciousness of some dead wizard or sorcerer. Steeped in dark arts in life, the worm (though the insect may take any form) is attracted irresistibly to such books that may lead to its terrible resurrection. Keepers may thus use the books that investigators choose to keep as a way to ―incubate‖ an old enemy, whose harmless larval form waits to find the correct formula or circumstances that will enable it to re-make itself.

Treasures of the Old Ones
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, but the oldest and strongest drive is hunger. Greed, the hunger for wealth, is as valid an impetus for investigators as the desire to uncover a mystery or save a victim from a sinister cult. Fortune-hunters are not uncommon in Mythos fiction, and they have as their basis the model adventurers of yesteryear and today. Looters are a plague upon real archaeological digs in real life, grave robbery a classical monetary endeavor, treasure-seeking with the aid of occult handbooks and guidance a very ancient and recurrent practice, still done today. There is no reason why your own investigators couldn't have as their motive the chance to "cash in" on the Mythos, by plundering the treasures of the Old Ones…and here are a few sample treasures for your campaign. Alternately, greed may be the primary motivator of an NPC in an adventure, and the Keeper can use these treasures as the seed for a scenario. The Pain of the Goat Value: $1,000 This trinket was discovered in a mound in Wales in the late 1800s, manufactured by some primitive race out of raw gold ore. The depiction displays great artistic skill, but the content is so rude and blasphemous that no regular person could abide it. After its discovery, the object was quietly sold to the British Museum, who kept it away from public display along with certain other objectionable treasures. At the sale, the discoverer claimed that there were many more such treasures. Mythos: The Pain of the Goat is a fetish, a totem of Shub-Niggurath, crafted by the halfbestial remnants of a race that dwell primarily in the British Isles. These brutish people

keep to the old way, and emerge seldom, except perhaps to take advantage of a women out alone in the woods and hills at night…or to reclaim their treasures. Some of them are not above dealing with humans. Inspiration: The Red Hand by Arthur Machen The Golden Libram Value: $10,000 The American Midwest is yet rugged and wild in parts, with caves, woods, rivers, swamps, and strange Indian mounds all over. Treasure hunters tell of their expeditions in these regions, often consulting a seer or mystic to lead them to treasure and deal with the ghosts or demons that guard the hoard. One such tale is told about Oklahoma, a small hillock so weathered and rounded that no one knows if it began as a natural hill or an Indian mound. In the side of the hill is hidden a small cave or chamber, where on an altar of stone lies a book or binder with metal pages—some say gold and silver, others copper. The chamber is supposedly guarded by an angel, which can be dismissed with the proper incantation. Mythos: The Golden Libram is an outpost and entranceway of K'n-yan, whose mental influence has generally kept settlers and treasure-seekers from digging into the mound. The "angel" is a defensive mechanism, a native of K'n-yan sentenced to guard the entrance as punishment for some crime (equivalent to a ―Colour Out of Space‖, but especially vulnerable to Tulu metal and magic). The contents of the Libram itself constitute a Mythos tome in their own right. Inspiration: The Mound by H.P. Lovecraft and Zealia Bishop The Faceless Sphinx Value: $100,000 In the harsh Eastern desert of Egypt, life is sparse. Somewhere lost in the drifting sands is a strange sphinx of black basalt, visible from time to time from the old caravan trails but eventually lost to the desert. Several expeditions have been launched to uncover this sphinx, which due to being long-buried is better preserved than most such monuments. One British expedition, whose journals were recovered but nothing else, give a detailed description—the sphinx is recumbent, the base covered with weird hieroglyphics of unusual character, and the statue is entirely faceless. The Faceless Sphinx would be a great prize to any museum or collector, but would require a full team to excavate and transport the heavy marvel. Mythos: The Faceless Sphinx is an avatar of Nyarlathotep, and a relic from the days of the Black Pharoah Nephren-Ka. Its position in the desert could mark the entrance to a larger, half-buried temple complex; or perhaps it was placed with more symbolic meaning, as a marker to the limitation of Nephren-Ka's temporal power. Whatever the case, any who uncover the Faceless Sphinx will draw the attention of Nyarlathotep. Inspiration: The Faceless God by Robert Bloch

Cthulhu Days
Some things are so important and powerful, people try to downplay them, reduce them to something they can manage without freaking out. The terror and awe of Easter, for example, has through centuries and by degrees been generally replaced with thoughts of

bunnies and colored eggs. Sanctity gives way to frivolity, old traditions are co-opted under new names and new religions, until what is left bears only the tiniest relation to the original ritual and purpose of the day. Thus too can happen to the Cthulhu Mythos: days of worship or import may be forgotten or buried, the true meaning all but lost as the strange rites and remembrances become just another local tradition, just another day on the calendar The Remonstrance of Y'Golonac Traditionally celebrated near Easter-time in certain obscure communities of a Czech ethnic sub-group, the Tzecha, the Remonstrance bears a resemblance to a tradition and colorful Czech practice: the public spanking of women with hand-made wicker brooms or stick, the pomlázka. The normal Czech Easter custom is good-natured, not done to hurt the women in any way, and is meant to bring them luck and beauty throughout the year. The Remonstrance variant is a good deal more visceral: women are ambushed and struck much more forcefully and repeatedly, often causing bruises and sometimes drawing blood. The men involved seem normal most of the time, but near the date seem gripped by a single-minded madness drawing them toward performing the public spankings with unnecessary brutality. Women in these communities often draw together for their own protection, sometimes carrying knives to fight off their attackers, or else letting foreign women wander freely through the streets of the community to let them take the brunt of the attacks. During these assaults - particularly group assaults - the men are often taken by a religious ecstasy, given to speaking in tongues. The most oft-repeated word in the refrain is "Y'golonac." The ethnic sub-group that practices the ritual, the Tzecha, is said to have its origins in an outcast proto-Czech tribe, the descendants of a bastard son of Čech and a demoness of the waste. The tribe was reviled because of their semi-nomadic existence, certain unsavory habits and occupations preferred among its workers, and for elements of their worship the Tzecha are famously the last of the Czech peoples to have converted to Christianity, in 1399, and even then only when they were faced with total extinction. The various incarnations of the Czech government have sought to suppress this particular expression of the ancient Easter custom, and Tzecha communities throughout the world keep themselves insular purely to continue the tradition without law enforcement becoming involved. Anthropologists have traced the origins of the Tzecha tribe to the obscure village of Stregoicavar in Turkey, and in the late 2000s genetic evidence may link them to the Asian Tcho-Tcho peoples. Using the Remonstrance It is not generally suggested that you have your player characters - particularly female ones - gang-beaten while the men assault her shout out the name of the Defiler. It is instead recommended that the investigators either stumble across information warning them of this particular celebration early, or that the example of it is someone else - who the PCs can then save, which draws them into the plot. Another option is for a PC (or plot kick-starter NPC professor of anthropology or folklore) to learn of the ritual and try and track down its source - knowledgeable players will make a connection to Y'golonac, but the exact history of the ritual is obscure enough it could represent anything - perhaps the Remonstrance is an annual rite to keep the Tzencha women (actually Dark Young of

Shub-Niggurath) in human form, the men calling on the influence of Y'golonac to do so. The Tzecha are good antagonists, particularly for a Wicker Man or Children of the Cornstyle chronicle. Calan Gaeaf y Cheyne Walk Calan Gaeaf is a traditional Welsh calendar day, November 1st, the first day of winter. The day had many strange superstitions and practices associated with it, but it was introduced to London only in the nineteen-teens by the primarily Welsh inhabitants of Cheyne Walk, in Chelsea. According to the street mythology, Yr Hwch Ddu Gwta, a Welsh demon in the form of a black sow, would once a year manifest itself in the neighborhood, usually at night when most were sleeping. The superstition has many strange twists, in that locals avoid the tangled bundles of electrical lines on the street during those days, with many going so far as to avoid using the electric entirely until the morning of November 2nd, and mothers warning children not to cross the shadows cast by the electrical lines during the day, for fear that Yr Hwch Ddu Gwta would take them. The Calan Gaeaf y Cheyne Walk is based on a mixture of actual Welsh practice and legend with William Hope Hodgson's The Hog. Here, Carnacki's attempted exorcism with the electric pentacle was not entirely successful, and every year the barriers between the Hog and that place grow thin enough for some manifestation to take place. Several children went missing int he 1910s, and even the police and electric company know to avoid the street at that time of year. It is quite disconcerting for many Londoners to turn the corner to find a dark and dead-looking street, with no electric lamps and few people walking about - and those doing their damndest to avoid the shadow of the overhead lines. At night, strange and terrible gruntings can sometimes be heard, and many of the families keep a gas-lamp vigil, huddled together in a common room until the dawn comes again. Using the Calan Gaeaf The Calan Gaeaf is a possible introduction to Hodgson's Carnacki Mythos, and the investigators may in effect be paranormal researchers who take up some bet or challenge to spend the night at Carnacki's abandoned 23 Cheyne Walk flat, where they will discover a very unusual "haunting indeed." Alternately, the superstition can disguise some older or more clearly Mythos-based practice - a Welsh cult of Shub-Niggurath, for example, who make use of the elements of the holiday to kidnap children for their own purposes. On a purely non-Mythos note, a darklit street where strange sounds are expected makes wonderful cover for many criminal industries, such as an underground counterfeiting mill. The Silent Night A phenomena attributed by many to Ithaqua, the Wind Walker, God of the Cold White Silence. At daybreak a cold wind blows through a house, a street, even a village or town, and takes with it every sound, leaving nothing but perfect silence until the following morning. No siren can be heard, no voice, no clatter of dropped pan or urgent horn. By the morning of the following day, all is calm and still. Sorcerers often flee the effect, since without incantations most of their magic is useless. Normal people have difficulty

adapting to the all-encompassing silence (loss of 0/1d2 Sanity an hour), and the loss of sound often brings out darker thoughts and instincts—after all, why not break the shop window? No one will hear the crash, no siren or alarm will sound. Why not commit bloody murder, since no scream will bring aid or assistance? A gun could be fired the very room, and no one would hear a thing… Using the Silence The Silent Night is something to be endured, not combated. There is rarely a true source for the event, no way to end it prematurely. Communication between players must generally depend on notes and signs. It can be used to spice up an otherwise unchallenging scenario for experienced investigators, or be used on its own to see how the players cope as the townsfolk slowly give in to what they can do when no one can hear them. On the other hand, the Night of Silence may be deliberately invoked by a Contact Ithaqua spell in order to give the investigators an advantage against a Mythos entity whose attacks rely on sound—perhaps a banshee or the abominable humming of the Mi-Go—but the Lord of the Cold White Silence will demand a price…

A Merry Mythos Christmas
“It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind.” –H.P. Lovecraft, The Festival Many people enjoy working a little festivity into their roleplaying games, and there really is no reason that Christmas should not be workable into any Mythos chronicle, Keeper and investigators willing. Below are some rough ideas Keepers may use for inspiration in adding a bit of Christmas to their games. The Cosmic Christmas Christmas occurs near the time of the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, when the Earth is tilted farthest from the sun. This is rarely exactly on Christmas day, but occurs almost invariable during the Christmas season. At this precise point in the long cycle of the year, the night is at its longest, the sun at its most distance. At this cosmological moment among all others in a calendar year, certain things that hate light or dwell in the darkness beyond this world may be closer than at any other time—a portentous night for such beings and forces to interact.

The Flight of the Nightgaunts The migration of the nightgaunts occurs annually on the winter solstice, in the northern hemisphere. From some secret holes, the nightgaunts emerge as a great mass, flitting silently in a tremendous migration to commune with Nodens in the Abyss beyond the world. Many cults and wise men mark their flight, seeking to divine omens in the beatings of their wings, or timing the black miracle with a saturnalia and blasphemous rites of their own. Using the Flight: Barring tremendous magic, the investigators can do little to stem the migration of the nightgaunts; the event works best as an event of supernature, as implacable as an eruption or earthquake, and likely as unexpected. Cults do not trigger the flight of the nightgaunts, they celebrate it. Ideally, the investigators should be dealing with a cult ceremony on the solstice, and the appearance of the nightgaunts is a complete surprise—and perhaps a means for a prominent NPC to escape on the back of a nightgaunt, not to be seen again for some time, if at all. Witnessing the mass migration of the nightgaunts costs 1d10/2d10 sanity—these are Mythos beings in their hundreds and their thousands, at the height of their power. The Christmas Star Related to in the stories of the Nativity, the star which appeared over Bethlehem has many possible cosmic sources, and innumerable scholars have searched the ancient records of astrologers and stargazers in an effort to ascertain the date and substance of the event. Most promising, perhaps, is an inexplicable comet or nova seen in 5 B.C.—which would generally coincide with the possible true date of the Nativity. Using the Star: Certain cosmic phenomena are momentary, occurring once and then never repeating. However, an eminent astrophysicist believes that the object taken as the Christmas Star in 5 B.C.—actually a comet—will return once again this year, appearing brightly in the sky as it approaches the Earth again after a circuit of nearly two thousand years. The investigators may be invited to his distant observatory, located high in the hills and away from the lights of the city, to better observe the event. Unfortunately for the investigators and their friend, the object is no mere comet, but a fragment of far Yuggoth, torn from that black planet in some terrible catastrophe. Inscribed on that mere fragment are horrible, portentous signs—and worse, for crawling on it still are terrible inhabitants, trapped for millennia. 1d4/1d6 Sanity loss to view these things through the telescope, and the sight of it will haunt the investigator's dreams for months as the distant entities endeavor to contact the investigators based on that brief, brief contact. The Pagan Christmas The original date of the Nativity was never determined accurately, since by the time of its celebrations the event had passed from living memory. So instead, the old heirophants fixed the date to coincide with the major pagan celebrations, which it eventually subsumed and replaced. Gone, in the space of a thousand years, were the Bacchanalia and Saturnalia of the Romans, the Yuletide of the northern countries, and many other events.

As Christianity gained power and its influence and culture spread, elements of the old pagan rites were adapted into the holiday, or possibly their significance was hidden from the priests as Christian traditions. In this way, Christmas has become the defacto inheritor of many a curious habit, which may trace ultimately to a Mythos source. The Warding of Yibb-Tstll One such festival that was replaced, in time, by Christmas, is the Warding of Yibb-Tstll. The tradition is strongest in Serbia, where each father who follows the old way is supposed to conduct a small ritual before cutting down a Yule tree, and bringing the log home. The log is lit in a solemn ceremony, the sparks are watched as they float up the chimney, and the log is watched to ensure that it burns throughout the night. Much of this rite is forgotten of course, and not every household observes it. None save a few hoary old men and women still remember why it is observed, and they keep to the rite in the old way, for in truth it is an old spell to ward off the influence of Yibb-Tstll, the Patient One, who waits for the old magic to finally be forgotten. Using the Warding: The investigators are caught in a sudden storm, but are given refuge on a Christmas eve by an old Serbian gentleman. Outside the house, the snow begins to fall in sticky black flakes, and a monster in a green robe is seen, just beyond the light of the windows…and growing closer. The old man stokes the log and intones his prayer, and assures them that they will be safe here…so long as the Yule log burns throughout the night. Outside, Yibb-Tstll circles and waits, patiently. Pagan origins are attributed to many of the more curious Christmas traditions, such as the Julebukk of Scandinavia, when the worship of Thor included that of his goats. It was common then for a "goat" to burst into a party, join the singers and dancers, "die" and "return to life." The tradition persisted for centuries, before finally being forbidden, and eventually returned in a more modest form. Today, "julebukking" continutes, and many Scandinavian communities include a Yule Goat as an ornament, unaware of the original source. A Mythos Carol Christmas Ghosts are an old tradition, when relatives would sit around after the feast and tell stories of treasure and horror. The critical turning point in this tradition, of course, was the 1843 A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, which depicted the ghosts of Christ Past, Present, and Yet to Come, but many other supernatural tales circulated, particularly from noted scholar M.R.James. Using the Ghosts: Yog-Sothoth is the gate and the key, and Dickens‘ ―ghosts‖ are shadows and fragments of a character who has stepped outside of time, and come back to warn his self. Investigators who happen upon a trio of Christmas ghosts of their own are essentially seeing a mirror image of their selves as they might have been, might be, and might yet become—1d4/1d6 Sanity loss. The images are themselves intangible, but may utter warnings or provide cryptic advice, remind the investigator of clues that they have missed, or foreshadow events that the Keeper plans for later in the chronicle.

The Sacrifice of Shub-Niggurath A remnant of Mythos worship concealed by cultists in the Yule Goat tradition—indeed, they claim it is the original rite from which the modern acts and ornaments derive. The rite involves a true spawn of the Goat of the Thousand Woods, who is summoned by the revelry (actually a form of the Call Spawn of Shub-Niggurath spell, requiring 1 Magic point per participant). The presence of the Mythos-entity causes the wild celebration to devolve into an actual orgy. At some point during the festivities the spawn's strength will flag from its carnal celebrations, and the cult leader will kill it with an enchanted knife. The cultists will then feast on the flesh of the spawn, and any children conceived during the rite will be Spawn of Shub-Niggurath when they are born. Using the Sacrifice: Should the investigators stumble across this rite—or its preparations—they will likely be captured by the cult and stuck in a giant wicker Yule Goat for the duration of the festivities. Of course, unless they manage to escape, the Yule Goat will be set alight with the investigators still inside! The Christian Christmas Most Christian denominations see Christmas as a high holy day, celebrated through solemn masses, recitations of the scripture, and hymns of praise and thanksgiving. The exact schedule of events depends highly on the country and church, for the many different varieties of Christians have their own rituals and histories. Tcho-Tcho Christmas Celebrated by a remnant of the Tcho-tchos who have converted to a particular Christian sect. They believe that Jesus made pilgrimage to Leng, where he studied magic and the lore of the Great Old Ones at the feet of the Tcho-tcho High Lama of Leng, and that his worship incorporates aspects of the strange corpse-cult religion of their forefathers. Considered nigh-heretical by the other Tcho-tchos, this sub-sect celebrates Christmas in their own way, combining the traditional hymns, decorations, and mass with heretical liturgies dedicated to Hastur and other entities. Using Tcho-Tcho Christmas: On the surface, Tcho-Tcho Christmas greatly resembles any other syncretized religion, investigators will likely not even be able to distinguish the Tcho-tchos from any other Asiatic subgroup until they see sure signs of something amiss—blood grooves on the altar, Tcho-tcho children proudly displaying Santa Claus dolls with actual claws and sharp teeth, the abundance of missing children signs going up around Little Asia in the days leading up to the holiday… The Cthulhu Mythos is, at its origins and for the majority of its authors, a secular affair unbound by human notions of religion and holy days. That is not the case for every author, of course. Some choose to believe that Christianity bears with it at least some potence against the Old Ones and their servants on Earth, and if ever that time was best to prey on such sentiment, it's during Christmas.

The New Herod A Mythos-obssessed scholar wishes to kill all those children born on Christmas Day—for fear that among them will be a new messiah, whose coming will herald the end of the world. The exact details of their beliefs may be confused or unclear; the scholar may believe that the child is a reincarnation of Cthulhu, or the actual spawn of Yog-Sothoth. Whatever the case, he is intent on re-enacting Herod's massacre of the newborn. Using Herod: Humanity, in its desperation and cruelty, can be as horrific as some of the worst Mythos monsters. The terrible nature of Herod's intended crime should cause the investigators to pursue them—in any given encounter the scholar will attempt to defend his point of view with a mishmash of Christian and Mythos ideas and superstitions, equating the Black Madonna with an avatar of Nyarlathotep and the child as "the heir of the Old Ones." Whether he has any semblance of being right or not is up to the Keeper. The Secular Christmas Despite over a thousand years of Christian domination in Europe, Christmas is seen by many as a mere secular holiday, commercialized to the point of unrecognizability. In the 1920s, the popular conception of Santa Claus as we know him was beginning to gel, but was not widespread—and would not be until Coca-Cola used him for advertising in the 1930s. However, the Christmas holiday was gaining more precedence and aspects of the modern festive season we know today. The Santa Prize White Rock Beverages began using the image of Santa Claus to sell Mineral Water in 1915. Very popular around Christmas time, the bottled water came from the White Rock natural spring in Waukesha, Wisconsin. Native Americans and settlers in the area believed the spring waters had magical powers, and was a source of thunderstones. Using White Rock: The spring is actually a gateway to the Dreamlands, and the waters bottled with Santa's image flow from the cold rivers in the lands of Mnar. The investigators may discover this when they find a special Christmas present in their latest bottle of White Rock mineral water around Christmas time—a small Elder Sign, shaped as a stone five-pointed star with a curious cartouche in the center. Department store Santas is a tradition begun in 1890, and by the 1920s around Christmas time Santas can be found in every shape, size, and color on the streets and corners of New York City and Boston. Whether thin Father Christmases or jolly old elves in the Dutch and Nordic traditions, Santas are a very familar sight in the United States and even in Britain.

The Tinsel of Yuggoth There are certain parallels between Christmas celebration and the bizarre activities of the Fungi from Yuggoth—whether this be a mere outrageous chance, or something that harkens back to before the age of man, remains a mystery to even the most dedicated scholars. So it is…with the tinsel of Yuggoth. In isolated northern climes, in the darkest forests far from human habitation there come in certain seasons reports of trees decked out with ropes of curious metal, exactly like a Christmas tree. The shredded metal is bright, and glimmers silver or gold depending on how the light touches it, and is dreadfully cold to the touch—cold enough to burn any ungloved hand that touches it! (1 HP damage for a brief contact, 1 HP/minute for prolonged contact) These tinsel-laden trees always mark the outer boundaries of certain mines (a successful Occult roll will recall legends of silver mines guarded by gnomes). Erudite scholars of the Mythos (successful Cthulhu Mythos roll) claim that the Fungi from Yuggoth deck these trees themselves, playing it out with pole-arm like tools and curious scissor-blades and that the tinsel-laden trees are rarely left out for more than four to six weeks, with the Fungi emerging every few nights to bask in the moonlight reflected from the decked tree. Using the Tinsel: A scrap of the curious tinsel (actually a radioactive ore with high silver content, extruded by certain worm-like entities the Fungi from Yuggoth use in mining) can provide the impetus to begin research into its origins; a trip to the library or discussion around local wilderness men can turn up tales of the curious ―Christmas trees‖ and a general location for a more thorough search. Should the investigators take too long, the Fungi from Yuggoth will be gone—leaving only a rough circle of trees marked with a strange spiral burned into their limbs and trunk. The Nativity is the principal focus of the celebration of Christmas, and since ancient times a number of beliefs, myths, and extensions have been added to the original story. Biblical scholars have debated and deliberated over every aspect and record, and traditions from the early years of the Church to the Renaissance have elaborated on the names, nature, and backgrounds of every participant—from the origins of the three Magi to the dispensation of the Christ-child's umbilical cord. Some of these stories bear the hint of truth, while others are more fanciful. One sure thing is that as the years pass, the stories will be added to, forgotten, and perhaps rediscovered. There is a powerful synchronicity between the portentous birth of Christ and the Mythos, which includes a sort of blasphemous parody in the form of characters such as Wilbur Whateley.

The Dunwich Nativity The birth of Wilbur Whateley, and perhaps other children of Yog-Sothoth—children who are typically conceived by unnatural means, in out-of-the-way places, and their births marked by unusual astrological phenomena—a nova, a comet, or perhaps a conjunction of planets and stars that mars the sky day and night. Time and space may bend around such momentous events, and attract strange characters, wise in obscure arts, who can divine their true meaning. Such a thing occurred in 1913, in the barn of a decrepit farmhouse in Massachusett's Miskatonic Valley. Using the Nativity: It's a cold night, possibly raining or foggy, and the investigators become lost. They find themselves on an old country road, traveling with another—a strange figure with an Eastern air and Oriental cast to his features, an erudite scholar who is chasing a burning nova overhead toward some momentous event. With him he carries a gift for the child—The Necronomicon, in the Latin translation of Wormius. The investigators, placed in the beginning of an old and somewhat familiar story, will be forced to come to terms with its bizarre twists and turns as they travel with their new companion toward the 1913 Nativity of Wilbur Whateley…and his brother(s). Along the way they may pass shepherds, whose flocks have suffered from stillbirths and bizarre mutations—things with too many limbs or heads, that must be put down, and other wise men may join them, bearing their own sinister gifts…at the end is Lavina Whateley, her anxious father acting as midwife…

Alternate Mythos
The heart of the Cthulhu Mythos is the Lovecraft Mythos, those stories personally written (or ghosted) by HPL himself. Closely related and interwoven are those stories of his contemporaries: the Robert E. Howard Mythos, the Clark Ashton Smith Mythos, the August Derleth Mythos, the Robert Bloch Mythos and many others. Beyond that are the more recent (and controversial) stuff: the Ramsey Campbell Mythos set in Goatswood, the Dreamlands and Titus Crow stories of Brian Lumley, and the innumerable modern takes by writers of more recent vintage. This material wends its way into the Call of Cthulhu sourcebooks because it represents a core of recognized material, most of it dating back before the internet and the advent of the internet. However, there are other, mostly ignored Mythos. These creative universes tie into, or more often parallel, the Lovecraft Mythos in strange ways. Manly Wade Wellman is a contemporary of Lovecraft, Howard, and Smith, a Weird Tales writer who achieved his modest piece and left a respectable body of work behind him. William Hope Hodgson and A. Merritt preceded Lovecraft, and in their own ways were influential on him (or might have been, if Lovecraft had discovered Hodgson earlier), and some of their material fits quite neatly into the Mythos, or at least a Call of Cthulhu campaign. The final material represent some concepts for CoC games that may strike Keepers and players alike as outré. Even if you never use it, I would encourage Keepers to read it, and consider the possibilities I've briefly outlined there, and the examples I've given.

The Hodgson Mythos
William Hope Hodgson was part of the weird fiction tradition that preceded H.P. Lovecraft, along with such luminaries as Lord Dunsany and Arthur Machen, and while Lovecraft discovered Hodgson rather late in life, he was a tremendous admirer of Hodgson‘s works. Hodgson‘s most memorable work, particularly in recent times, are the wonderfully cosmic and bizarre The House on the Borderlands, and his Thomas Carnacki stories, tracing the adventures of one of the earliest occult detectives in his experiments ghost-busting with electric pentacles and the aid of the ancient Sigsand Manuscript. Most of Hodgson‘s work isn‘t terribly useful for a Mythos game—Hodgson specialized in tales of the sea, piracy, false hauntings, strange murders solved by unlikely people, that sort of thing. The House on the Borderlands, while marvelous, is basically unusable, whereas a good bit of the Carnacki material has already been mined for a good bit of what it's worth. There are a few really good stories that could stand to inspire, or have elements utilized in Call of Cthulhu chronicles though, so I'd like to address a few of them here. The Case of the Chinese Curio Dealer is rife with Mythos material—a secretive Chinese brotherhood called the Nameless Ones, strange characters, a living mummy, a beautiful little god-idol, and another of a bronze goat-god…like I said, beautifully suggestive and easy to fit into any Mythos game, if you're in a city with a Chinatown. One lovely little excerpt: There is no actual name for this Monstrosity; which is, indeed, indicated only by a curious ugly guttural. It is known literally as the Nameless One. There is no real equivalent in the letter sounds of any nation for the guttural which indicates this embodiment of the most dreadful of the Desires — the elemental appeal of the Blood Lust — a lust that has been atrophying through weary centuries, under the effects of the Codes of Restraint, which are more popularly termed Religion. (Hodgson) The two Captain Jat stories are also very minable. The Isle of the Ud deals with a South Pacific cult that worships Ud, a giant sea-crab (a relatively common Hodgson motif); some priestesses of the cult wear the cast-off claws of giant crabs as sort of ritual gloves, while others are alleged to actually have the claws grow naturally…excerpt: But the monstrous and horrid thing that caught the boy's eye was something he saw as the women came nearer, running. They had faces so flat as to be almost featureless. At first, if he thought at all, he supposed that they were wearing some kind of mask; but as they ran, the nearest woman opened her mouth and howled, the same disgusting sound that he had heard earlier that night. As she howled, she brandished both the hand that held the torch, and the other hand, above her head. But she had no hands; her arms ended in enormous claws, like the claws of a great crab. (Hodgson) The Ud-women are wonderful substitutes for the traditional Deep Ones as far as creeping players the frick out, but are close enough in weirdness that they can use practically the same stats.

The other Captain Jat story, The Adventure of the Headland, contains a peculiar corpsecult ready-set to add a bit of flavor to any adventure that normally calls for ghouls. The cult uses sacred dogs named Iils, fed on human sacrifices, to prey on interlopers— running among them as part of the pact and answering their baying howls are cannibalistic priests. Both Iils and priests are afraid of the light—and should one of the priests die or fall injured, the rest of the pack are likely to turn on and consume them. The idea is beautiful from a Keeper perspective—the corpse-rending canines and cannibal dog-priests can give every impression of ghouls to investigators that think they know everything, without making the scenario too much more dangerous. And, of course, there's every possibility that in time the cannibal-priests do deal with ghouls, or in time become them…Iils use standard stats for dogs, the priests may use the following stats:

New Mythos Creature 1 Iils (Human Cultist)
Iils (Human Cultist) STR 12 CON 12 SIZ 13 INT 12 POW 12 DEX 13 SAN 15 Move 9 HP 12 Damage Bonus: +1d4 Weapons: Bite 60%, damage 1d6+1d4* *On a successful bite, the Iils-priest will hang on to chew and worry the victim with their sharpened teeth, doing 1d4 damage automatically. Skills: Cthulhu Mythos 5%, Hide 60%, Jump 75%, Listen 70%, Scent Decay 50%, Sneak 80%, Speak Ghoul 50%, Spot Hidden 50% Spells: Some Iils-priests know the spell Contact Ghoul, and particularly powerful sorcerers may know other cannibalistic spells such as Consume Likeness

The Wellman Mythos
Manly Wade Wellman was a prolific pulp author who, unlike some of his contemporaries, lived a long life and achieved a full career. While never as famous among the Weird Tales circle as Seabury Quinn, Robert E. Howard or H.P. Lovecraft, Wellman was a contributor to that and other magazines, struck up friendships and engaged in literary swaps and inside-references. Like the works of Lovecraft, much of Wellman's supernatural fiction was subtly interconnected, often through his heroes: John Thunstone, the occult detective; Judge Pursuivant, Lee Cobbett, and John, sometimes called by others Silver John or John the Balladeer. At times these personages met each other to battle common foes, such as the strange and old Shonokin, and thus one series of stories would be put in line with another.

The Wellman Mythos exists on the very fringes of the shared Cthulhu Mythos. In his stories, Wellman only made two explicit references to Lovecraft—both times the Necronomicon—and one of those was a pastiche and tribute to Lovecraft himself, and outside of his interconnected stories. Although this connection is tenuous, Wellman did sometimes make good use of Lovecraftian tropes, particularly the notion of things from outside intruding on reality, the prominence of cults, and strange survivals. These elements make it relatively easy and attractive to incorporate ideas from Wellman's Mythos into a Call of Cthulhu chronicle. Aside:Wellman's characters John Thunstone and Rowley Thorne (and Wellman himself!) also were made reference to in the stories of Jules de Grandin; Seabury Quinn's occult detective. Wellman‘s Mythos, like Derleth‘s, focuses on the struggle between good and evil. Where Derleth focuses on cosmic opposites, Wellman‘s focus is almost always on the human individuals, their characters and choices. The almost unconscious racism and sexism found in Lovecraft's works are absent from Wellman‘s stories, with men and women of all races and ethnicity enjoying their own heroes and villains. These are positive qualities for Keepers and investigators interested in fighting the Mythos. Wellman‘s characters often, though not always, persevere and triumph due to strong Christian principles and associated occult devices, but this is not an absolute requirement for his Mythos and should hopefully not turn off anyone. Of Manly Wade Wellman's John stories, the one that was most similar to Lovecraft was One Other. In the story, John climbs Hark Mountain to view the Bottomless Pool. […] it was blue as the sky, but with a special light of its own; how no water ran into it, excusing some rain, but it stayed full; how you couldn't measure it, you could let down a sinker till the line broke of its own weight. […] Down in the Bottomless Pool's blueness wasn't a fish, or a weed of grass. Only that deep-away sparkly flash of lights, changing as you spy changes on a bubble of soap blown by a little child. (Wellman) The soap bubble metaphor comes up a good deal in the short story, as John and the girl he tries to save from herself try to come to grips with One Other, a strange being, dripping with water from the Bottomless Pool and with one arm and one leg. John postulates that the creature is from another world, that the Bottomless Pool is a kind of bubble-skin where the two dimensions meet, and that One Other is a traveler from that other place—and that the one arm and one hand isn't its true appearance, but as close as it can manage under the circumstances. One Other is limited in his ability to act in this dimension, and so needs human helpers—some of them he gets by providing precious stones of prodigious size from his place, others he helps in different ways, which the back-country people he deals with see as witchcraft. John finally drives One Other back into the pool using fire. It's a curious little story, with a number of different Lovecraftian elements in place, although the presentation is pure Wellman. There's a great bit of play on superstition

versus science, with the normally slightly occult John falling back on a book called Expanding Universe and whose arsenal of charms against evil fail him completely when he meets something from outside, and One Other whose abilities may seem like magic but which John thinks are just natural in its own place. Keeper's Note: Using the Wellman Mythos The primary difference between running a game based on Wellman‘s stories than more Lovecraftian works is that the emphasis is on the Occult skill, not the Cthulhu Mythos skill. The investigators may well see some sanity-bending sights, come across dark tomes, encounter ancient living relics, and encounter dark cults with strange powers, but for the most part these critters, cultists, and creepy books are rather more mundane than the average Cthulhu Mythos offering. This isn‘t always the case, and some liberties have been taken with the material provided to emphasize the most prominently Lovecraftian aspects, but it does present a major difference in how to run the two games. Normal Call of Cthulhu games, like the stories themselves, hinge on the sanity-bending revelations as the investigators peel back the onion-skins of horror. Wellman's stories are more action packed, the threats typically have more human and understandable motives—it is when this is not the case that the protagonists have their greatest troubles! A Wellman Mythos adventure can thus serve as a lighter interlude between darker stories or as an introduction into darker stories. The novelty of Wellman's creations can be used to throw a slight curve ball to the dedicated Mythos-phile among the investigators, to suggest to them that there is yet more to the Mythos than they know. What follows below are a few bare selected items from the Wellman Mythos, which can be easily incorporated into most games.

New Mythos Creature 2 The Shonokin
The Shonokin Lesser Independent Race Source: The Dead Man's Hand, The Shonokins, Shonokin Town, After Dark (novel) The Shonokins are an old race, old before the First Peoples came to North America, and wise and evil. The United States Government has mislabeled them as a Native American tribe, and given them lands where they have settled into small, isolated townships. Once they rules North America, and now they wish to return. They are generally human in appearance, except for their cat-like eyes and the fact that the longest fingers on their hands are their index fingers. Shonokins are typically dressed in concealing homespun garments that might hide other, more inhuman features. The Shonokins are ageless and have a strange, inhuman mindset. They do not believe in the soul or spirit, and death is anathema to them—a dead member of their own race is taboo to them, a thing they will not touch or even approach. When one of them dies by accident or combat, they avoid the corpse entirely, or hire humans to remove it; the Shonokins will even avoid the grave where a dead Shonokin lies, and give it a wide bearth. The method of their reproduction is unclear and apparently assexual; humans may be transformed into Shonokin or something similar through a strange rite. Char Rolls Averages STR 2d6+6 13 CON 2d6+6 13 SIZ 2d6+6 13 INT 2d6+6 13 POW 3d6x2 20-22 DEX 2d6+6 13 Mov 6 HP 13 Av. Damage bonus +0 Weapons: Grapple 20%; some may carry firearms or other weapons Armor: None Spells: INT% chance of knowing 1d4 spells, though never any involving spirits or the dead Skills: Hide 70%, Listen 50%, Occult 50%, Sense Dead Shonokin 100%, Sneak 70%, Spot Hidden 50% Sanity Loss: Seeing a Shonokin costs no Sanity points; if the character sees a Shonokin they had previously met before as a human, the cost is 0/1 Sanity point. Pow-Wows, or The Long-Lost Friend Source: Numerous stories, notably The Valley So Still; see also the full text Wellman conducted rather more work into researching magic than Lovecraft did during his lifetime, but focused especially on a few volumes that were especially prevalent in the American occult tradition, the Egyptian Secrets of Albertus Magnus and Pow-wows, or The Long-Lost Friend.

New Mythos Tome 7 Der Lange Verborgene Freund
Der Lange Verborgene Freund—German, Johann Georg Hohman, 1820 Principally, this book and its various English translations are a collection of receipts, cantrips, charms, and advice drawn from multiple books of spells and the prodigious German charm tradition. Hohman, a literate and pious German immigrant to the Americas, printed the first editions in German (1820) and English (1846) as a pamphlet or chapbook, but many more illegal copies followed, so that it is rather widely available in the 1890s and even the 1920s. Sanity loss: 0; Occult +3 percentiles (original German edition), +1 percentiles (1846 English translation by Hohman himself), or +2 percentiles (1856 and later English translations, by more fluent translators). Spells: Bind Enemy, Charm Animal (dogs only), Cure Blindness, Heal, Healing, Heal Animal, Warding the Eye. Note: Special thanks to Dan Harms for his work on the subject; I look forward to his book. The Deep School Source: Letters of Cold Fire, Twice Cursed, School of Darkness (novel) The Deep School is an academy of the dark occult arts, located in a cellar beneath a cellar. Many begin their studies there, but few finish. The students live and learn in darkness for years, with never a stray shaft of light—for light would destroy what was taught there. The scholars remain until they are taught, or until they go away into the dark, never to be seen again. Once a day, a trap door opens, and a hand shaggy with dark hair thrusts in food. Those few who survive for seven years are given, written in letters of cold fire, which can only be read in the dark.

New Mythos Tome 8 Schoolbook of the Deep School
Schoolbook of the Deep School—Letters of Cold Fire, author unknown, date unknown. This book is not larger than a school speller, and is bound in a dark, untanned hide from which grows a rank, coarse black hair. When looked at in the light, the book appears blank, but in the darkness the pages burn with letters of cold fire, that anyone can read. Some occultists think the schoolbooks of the Deep School are suitable substitutes for the Necronomicon—at least for some applications. Sanity Loss 1d6/1d10 Sanity points, Occult +18 percentiles, average 52 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Endarken

New Mythos Spell 6 Endarken
This spell may only be cast when reading from a schoolbook of the Deep School, and only in pitch darkness without any source of light, and costs 10 Magic Points. The reader of the book may then duplicate the effects of any Cthulhu Mythos spell of which they have knowledge save those that create light, without expending any Magic Points or POW. These effects are completely illusory—they cannot cause any damage, or summon or banish any Mythos creature (although illusions of Mythos creatures may be made to appear and disappear). Sanity costs from spells or "summoned" creatures affect the wizard or any nearby investigators as normal. The above are only a small sampling from Wellman's body of work. Much more could be done, for I have not really touched any of the various spells, artifacts, rites, and creatures used in Wellman's work—such as the Hand of Glory, sin-eating, or the fiendish gardinel. Creatures like Khongabassi, the Frogfather, can easily fit into the Mythos as a spawn or avatar of Tsathoggua. Scenario: The Terrible Parchment The Terrible Parchment is a 1937 story by Manly Wade Wellman, written as a tribute to Lovecraft the year he died. This brief scenario basically allows the players to replay the events of the short story, which is sufficiently obscure that most of them won't be familiar with it. In short, a page from the Necronomicon arrives in the mail—and tries to get the players to read it. Scenario Considerations This is a relative brief scenario which is primarily designed as a humorous one-off game, but can also serve as an aside to a longer campaign or even an introduction to the Mythos. The scenario is suitable for characters of any experience level, though preferably ones that have not read the Necronomicon yet. The Terrible Parchment is set in 1937, but can work unchanged from 1923 to the present day. If set before 1923, the delivery magazine should be different. Keeper's Information One of the investigator's receives a copy of Weird Tales in the mail. As the characters retrieve is, a page will flutter to the floor—not pulp paper, but a rectangle of tawny, limp parchment, grained on one side with scales, like the skin of some unfamiliar reptile; the other side is a smoother surface with pore-like markings and lines of faint, rusty Arabic text. One Greek word at the upper edge of the page stands out in all caps: NEKPONOMIKON. On close inspection, the page is weird. The ink is fresh, almost wet. If any of the investigators have less than 100% in Arabic, then the will notice that the last line of the text, which at first appeared to be Arabic, will be in Latin. If the investigator(s) have trouble with Latin, the text will change again—this time to English or whatever other language is native for the investigator. Once the page settles on a language the

investigator(s) can read, the text quickly translates itself one line at a time, starting from the last line. Whatever language it is in, the meaning of the sheet of parchment is clear— it wants to be read. The page has a life, awareness, and mobility of its own. If laid down or filed away, it will slither and slide back into view. Initially it will do this as innocuously as possible— slipping out from under paper weights, flopping down from tables onto floors with a quiet, stealthy rustle. If actively opposed, it will attempt to force itself into sight, crawling along the ground in a gruesome parody of an inchworm, even climbing up an investigator's leg. The page is immune to most damage, such as from cutting or fire, and is implacable. If trapped, it will do its best to escape, displaying unnatural agility and intelligence. While an investigator owns it, the terrible parchment acts as a stone tablet subject to the Enchant Stone Tablet spell (p.235, CoC). When the terrible parchment fully translates itself into a language the investigator can read, the briefest glance at the text costs 1d10/2 Sanity points (as if the investigator had skimmed the Necronomicon itself). If the full text is read (this takes about five minutes), the investigator gains Cthulhu Mythos +1 percentiles and loses 1d10 Sanity points. The page contains the spell Contact Cthulhu. Unlike other versions of this spell, when read directly off the terrible parchment this spell will always be successful. In the original short story, the parchment is destroyed when a priest is called and douses the unholy parchment in holy water, causing it to crinkle and burn as if exposed to acid. Investigators are likely to find their own methods to deal with the terrible parchment— certain magical spells can be effective to bind or damage it, and it will avoid the Elder Sign—indeed, if brought in contact with an Elder Sign, both the parchment and the Elder Sign will be destroyed. Because of the page‘s connection to Cthulhu, it may be destroyed by an appropriate invocation to an opposing entity such as Hastur (either Contact Hastur or Call Hastur)—although such an action has its own consequences, and the players are unlikely to have the means readily at hand to make use of such a gambit! Ultimately, the keeper should allow the investigators their own head and let them use whatever resources they have available to contain, destroy, or even use the terrible parchment. If imprisoned or escaped from, the terrible parchment may even be a recurring character. Left unanswered is the question of who sent the terrible parchment and why—this could be part of a larger Mythos-based plot, or a single bizarre, inexplicable episode. Each Keeper should craft their own answer, dependent on the content and needs of their campaign. Possibly a cultist or Mythos entity intended the terrible parchment as a trap or blasphemous award to the investigators for their efforts so far. Investigator Information An immediate glance at the parchment will show that it is not a normal page from Weird Tales magazine, and that it is not even a regular sheet of parchment—either the sheep it came from suffered from a degenerative skin disease, or more likely the skin is not from a sheep at all. Anything more than a cursory physical examination is difficult, and the

parchment itself will resist any chemical or scientific analysis. The Weird Tales magazine itself does not give much of a clue; if the investigator is not a regular subscriber, then the mailman will claim it must have been delivered by mistake. The magazine itself has not been otherwise tampered with, although slight stains show where the parchment had been inserted, between a poem by Ward Phillips at the end of one story and the start of another story, a reprint of "The Burrower Beneath" by Robert Harrison Blake. A call to the magazine offices (the phone number is inside) will not reveal any additional information, treating the investigator as if they are pitching a story (the Keeper, in character, may suggest some methods for ―ending‖ the story, i.e. give the readers some clues to how they might destroy the terrible parchment). The last line of the parchment, when it can be read, says ―Chant the spell and give me life again.‖ The rest of the page, read line-by-line, is an invocation—the Call Cthulhu spell. A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll will identify the spell contained therein, and the consequences of using it. Experienced investigators will be able to pick out the name ―Cthulhu‖ even before the parchment begins translating itself, which may give them some clue as to the contents and strange nature of the terrible parchment.

New Mythos Creature 3 The Terrible Parchment
The Terrible Parchment STR 2 CON 20 SIZ 1 DEX 20 INT POW 20 SAN 0 HP 1 Damage Bonus: None Weapon: Paper Cuts 10% damage 1d2 Spells: Dominate (Read itself only) Skills: Climb 35%, Cthulhu Mythos 18%, Dodge 50%, Hide 45%, Library Use 100%, Sneak 55%, Track 40% Sanity Loss: 0/1d4 to see and examine parchment, 1/1d4 to glance at text when in a language the character knows, 1d10 to actually read the full text of the parchment. The Terrible Parchment is immune to normal physical damage from any sort of weapon, fire, or acid. It is however still vulnerable to magic and some unusual methods of destruction. While not very strong, it can apply its strength at any point, so as to slip out from under heavy objects.

The A. Merritt Mythos
Abraham Merritt‘s novel The Moon Pool (1919) actually began as two short stories, The Moon Pool and Conquest of the Moon Pool, which were patched together and printed as a single book. Merritt's work was very popular for its day and it is easy to see how the prose, particularly the first half, could have had an influence on H.P. Lovecraft. The content of the book is fairly compatible with the Mythos as popularly conceived, and the purpose of this post is to pick among the book for elements that can be introduced by Keepers into a Mythos campaign. Murian Technology Murian tech is ancient, and derived from the wonders of the Ancient Ones. Few examples of it remain, and the followers of the Shining One enforce their authority in part by hoarding what artifacts remain. The Keth She dipped down into her bosom and drew forth something that resembled a small cone of tarnished silver. She levelled it, a covering clicked from its base, and out of it darted a slender ray of intense green light. It struck the old dwarf squarely over the heart, and spread swift as light itself, covering him with a gleaming, pale film. She clenched her hand upon the cone, and the ray disappeared. She thrust the cone back into her breast and leaned forward expectantly; so Lugur and so the other dwarfs. From the girl came a low wail of anguish; the boy dropped upon his knees, covering his face. For the moment the white beard stood rigid; then the robe that had covered him seemed to melt away, revealing all the knotted, monstrous body. And in that body a vibration began, increasing to incredible rapidity. It wavered before us like a reflection in a still pond stirred by a sudden wind. It grew and grew—to a rhythm whose rapidity was intolerable to watch and that still chained the eyes. The figure grew indistinct, misty. Tiny sparks in infinite numbers leaped from it—like, I thought, the radiant shower of particles hurled out by radium when seen under the microscope. Mistier still it grew—there trembled before us for a moment a faintly luminous shadow which held, here and there, tiny sparkling atoms like those that pulsed in the light about us! The glowing shadow vanished, the sparkling atoms were still for a moment—and shot away, joining those dancing others. Where the gnomelike form had been but a few seconds before—there was nothing! (Merritt) The Keth is a ray weapon with a maximum range of about ten meters. A successful attack deals no damage, but in a number of rounds equal to their Size the subject disintegrates completely. The Keth is only effective against purely material victims, and will not affect Mythos entities that are intangible, energy-based, or that consist of purely non-terrestial

or extradimensional matter (such as most Great Old Ones and Elder Gods). A typical keth has a maximum of 100 charges and may not be recharged. Cloaks of Invisibility ―The material simply admits all light-vibrations, or perhaps curves them, just as the opacities cut them off,‖ I answered. ―A man under the X-ray is partly invisible; this makes him wholly so. He doesn‘t register, as the people of the motion-picture profession say.‖ (Merritt) Certain Murians make use of light-bending cloaks, which allow them to move invisibly. This is excellent camouflage, and individuals wearing a cloak of invisibility automatically pass all Sneak rolls unless special precautions or perceptions are in order, and enemies that rely on sight halve their chance to hit the wearer. Yekta Almost every bather in Southern waters, Northern too, knows the pain that contact with certain ―jelly fish‖ produces. The Yekta‘s development was prodigious and, to us, monstrous. It secretes in its five heads an almost incredibly swiftly acting poison which I suspect, for I had no chance to verify the theory, destroys the entire nervous system to the accompaniment of truly infernal agony; carrying at the same time the illusion that the torment stretches through infinities of time. Both ether and nitrous oxide gas produce in the majority this sensation of time extension, without of course the pain symptom. What Lakla called the Yekta kiss is I imagine about as close to the orthodox idea of Hell as can be conceived. The secret of her control over them I had no opportunity of learning in the rush of events that followed. Knowledge of the appalling effects of their touch came, she told me, from those few ―who had been kissed so lightly‖ that they recovered. Certainly nothing, not even the Shining One, was dreaded by the Murians as these were—W. T. G. (Merritt) The yekta is a plant-like jellyfish, smaller versions of which may be worn wrapped around the arm of those who know the secret to controlling them, and which will attack (80%, damage 1d4+venom) at the wearer's command. The speed of effect is 1 round, POT 3d10. The subject is paralyzed and in seemingly endless agony until they die or the effect wears off. Denizens of Muria Muria is a typical ―lost world,‖ but it has many prominent and noteworthy entities that can be popped into a Mythos game. The Shining One (The Dweller in the Moon Pool) And then, for the first time—I saw—it! The moon path stretched to the horizon and was bordered by darkness. It was as though the clouds above had been parted to form a lane-drawn aside like curtains or as the waters of the Red Sea were held back to let the hosts of Israel through. On each side of the stream was the black shadow cast by the folds of the high canopies And straight as a road

between the opaque walls gleamed, shimmered, and danced the shining, racing, rapids of the moonlight. Far, it seemed immeasurably far, along this stream of silver fire I sensed, rather than saw, something coming. It drew first into sight as a deeper glow within the light. On and on it swept toward us—an opalescent mistiness that sped with the suggestion of some winged creature in arrowed flight. Dimly there crept into my mind memory of the Dyak legend of the winged messenger of Buddha—the Akla bird whose feathers are woven of the moon rays, whose heart is a living opal, whose wings in flight echo the crystal clear music of the white stars—but whose beak is of frozen flame and shreds the souls of unbelievers. Closer it drew and now there came to me sweet, insistent tinklings—like pizzicati on violins of glass; crystal clear; diamonds melting into sounds! Now the Thing was close to the end of the white path; close up to the barrier of darkness still between the ship and the sparkling head of the moon stream. Now it beat up against that barrier as a bird against the bars of its cage. It whirled with shimmering plumes, with swirls of lacy light, with spirals of living vapour. It held within it odd, unfamiliar gleams as of shifting mother-of-pearl. Coruscations and glittering atoms drifted through it as though it drew them from the rays that bathed it. Nearer and nearer it came, borne on the sparkling waves, and ever thinner shrank the protecting wall of shadow between it and us. Within the mistiness was a core, a nucleus of intenser light—veined, opaline, effulgent, intensely alive. And above it, tangled in the plumes and spirals that throbbed and whirled were seven glowing lights. Through all the incessant but strangely ordered movement of the—thing—these lights held firm and steady. They were seven—like seven little moons. One was of a pearly pink, one of a delicate nacreous blue, one of lambent saffron, one of the emerald you see in the shallow waters of tropic isles; a deathly white; a ghostly amethyst; and one of the silver that is seen only when the flying fish leap beneath the moon. The tinkling music was louder still. It pierced the ears with a shower of tiny lances; it made the heart beat jubilantly—and checked it dolorously. It closed the throat with a throb of rapture and gripped it tight with the hand of infinite sorrow! Came to me now a murmuring cry, stilling the crystal notes. It was articulate—but as though from something utterly foreign to this world. The ear took the cry and translated with conscious labour into the sounds of earth. And even as it compassed, the brain shrank from it irresistibly, and simultaneously it seemed reached toward it with irresistible eagerness. (Merritt) In the hidden caverns of Muria, the Shining One resides, a pillar of light, crystal, and sound, a consuming force that hungers to spread its touch to all that lives. It was initially created by members of a great and ancient subterranean race, the Silent Ones, in an experiment similiar to that which led to the creation of the Shining Trapezohedron, to

discern the secrets of the cosmos. Their success proved their undoing. Cult: The cult of the Shining One is strong in Muria, where it has supplanted the ancient worship of lunar and solar gods, and fragments of this worship remain in the outer world, hidden in the rituals and initiations of certain secret societies in Asia, and even parts of Eastern Europe. The Shining One wishes only to be free on the surface again.

New Mythos Creature 4 The Shining One
The Shining One STR 50 CON 35 SIZ 50 INT 30 POW 30 DEX 15 Move 10 HP 45 Damage Bonus: As energy, not applicable Weapon: Moontouch 80%, damage special* Effective at 100 feet or less; 1 attack per round. The light of the moontouch may be dodged. With a sucessful attack, the target becomes moontouched and loses 2d10 POW permanently, which are added to the Shining One's POW. If the subject loses all POW, they become a zombie under the Shining One's control. Metal armor may be proof against the moontouch, provided all of the skin is concealed. Armor: The Shining One is constantly protected by an effect identical to the Cloak of Fire spell, and is also immune to heat, cold, and acid. Electricity and magic affects it normally. If the Shining One is ever brought into contact with the Shining Trapezohedron, both are destroyed. Spells: None; the Shining One's great weakness is its inability to use Mythos magic. Sanity Loss: 1d3/1d20 Sanity points to see the Shining One Other Qualities: The Shining One can fly, and move on or through air, water, and through any gap or crack wide enough for light to spill, but it cannot move through earth or other dense materials. As currently bound, the Shining One can only venture forth from Muria in the moonlight, and must return before the moon sets. Moontouched He ripped open his shirt. ―Look at this,‖ he said. Around his chest, above his heart, the skin was white as pearl. This whiteness was sharply defined against the healthy tint of the body. It circled him with an even cincture about two inches wide. ―Burn it!‖ he said, and offered me his cigarette. I drew back. He gestured—peremptorily. I pressed the glowing end of the cigarette into the ribbon of white flesh. He did not flinch

nor was there odour of burning nor, as I drew the little cylinder away, any mark upon the whiteness. ―Feel it!‖ he commanded again. I placed my fingers upon the band. It was cold—like frozen marble. (Merritt) Anyone struck by the Shining One‘s moontouch attack is permanently marked with dull, marble-like flesh where the light struck them. The flesh is always cool and numb. Should a victim lose their entire POW to moontouch attacks, they will become a zombie under the Shining One‘s control. The Shining One will always pursue victims it has touched but not claimed first, given the opportunity. Magic, and perhaps alien science, may cure the moontouched, but no cure exists in human science or medicine. The Three Silent Ones …down upon me, gazed three faces—two clearly male, one a woman‘s. At the first I thought them statues, and then the eyes of them gave the lie to me; for the eyes were alive, terribly, and if I could admit the word—supernaturally—alive. They were thrice the size of the human eye and triangular, the apex of the angle upward; black as jet, pupilless, filled with tiny, leaping red flames. Over them were foreheads, not as ours—high and broad and visored; their sides drawn forward into a vertical ridge, a prominence, an upright wedge, somewhat like the visored heads of a few of the great lizards—and the heads, long, narrowing at the back, were fully twice the size of mankind‘s! Upon the brows were caps—and with a fearful certainty I knew that they were not caps— long, thick strands of gleaming yellow, feathered scales thin as sequins! Sharp, curving noses like the beaks of the giant condors; mouths thin, austere; long, powerful, pointed chins; the—flesh—of the faces white as the whitest marble; and wreathing up to them, covering all their bodies, the shimmering, curdled, misty fires of opalescence! ―Not like us, and never like us,‖ she spoke low, wonderingly, ―the Silent Ones say were they. Nor were those from which they sprang like those from which we have come. Ancient, ancient beyond thought are the Taithu, the race of the Silent Ones. Far, far below this place where now we sit, close to earth heart itself were they born; and there they dwelt for time upon time, laya upon laya upon laya—with others, not like them, some of which have vanished time upon time agone, others that still dwell—below—in their—cradle.‖ (Merritt) The Silent Ones are scientists, of a sort, remnants of an ancient race that arose in the warm caverns near the center of the earth. These three are the greatest explorers of their race, but their great creation to probe the cosmos, the Shining One, turned against them. Now they sit in uneasy truce, unwilling or perhaps unable to destroy their great creation.

Cult: The Silent Ones are worshipped mainly by the Akka, giant bactrachians that are distant relatives of the Deep Ones.

New Mythos Creature 5 The Silent Ones
The Silent Ones (Greater Independent Race) STR 40 CON 45 SIZ 25 INT 60 POW 60 DEX 15 Move 10 HP 25 Damage Bonus: +5d6 Weapon: The Silent Ones are pacifistic, and do not normally engage in battle, but if forced or necessary, they have Aim 100% for casting spells or targeting superscience weapons. Armor: 10 point scales; the luminious and opalescent mists offer 50% protection from any energy weapon. The Silent Ones are immune to the moonlight touch of the Shining One. Spells: The Shining Ones may be considered to know or reproduce the effects of all spells, but accomplish their ends through the use of their supernatural science and manipulation of unusual forms of energy, not typical Mythos incantations and paraphernalia. In addition, the Shining Ones communicate nearly entirely through telepathy, often through a chosen human speaker. Sanity loss: 1d3/1d10 to see the Shining Ones Akka ―Then there came the ancestors of the—Akka; not as they are now, and glowing but faintly within them the spark of—self-realization. And the Taithu seeing this spark did not slay them. But they took the ancient, long untrodden paths and looked forth once more upon earth face. Now on the land were vast forests and a chaos of green life. On the shores things scaled and fanged, fought and devoured each other, and in the green life moved bodies great and small that slew and ran from those that would slay. "They searched for the passage through which the Akka had come and closed it. Then the Three took them and brought them here; and taught them and blew upon the spark until it burned ever stronger and in time they became much as they are now—my Akka.‖ (Merritt) The Akka are giant, highly social bactrachians who serve the Silent Ones. They are highly distant cousins of the Deep Ones, whose evolution diverged hundreds of thousands of years ago. They are larger than most Deep Ones, and more intelligent, either because of or in spite of not breeding with humans, and spend more time out of water, but

have no knowledge of magic to speak of. An Akka may be accidentally summoned by a Contact Deep One and similar spells.

New Mythos Creature 6 Akka
Akka (Lesser Independent Race) Char Rolls Averages STR 5d6 17 CON 4d6 14 SIZ 4d6+6 23-24 INT 3d6+3 15 POW 2d6 6-8 DEX 3d6 10-11 Mov 10/10 Swimming HP 16-17 Damage Bonus: +1d6 Weapon: Claw 25%, damage 1d6 + db; Spear* 25%, damge 1d6 + db *Impaling weapon Armor: 1-2 point skin and scales; Akka armed for combat typically wear another 3-4 points of armor in the form of helmets, braces, pectorals, and the like. Spells: None Sanity loss: 0/1d6 Sanity points to see an Akka; Akka are considered Deep Ones and vice versa for purposes of sanity loss when first seeing one.

Mystery Men Mythos
Before the advent of four-color superheroes, the world of pulp adventure belonged to masked vigilantes. These men and women brought justice to their streets, fighting crimes and criminals too weird for the police, using methods the cops could not. Some of the costume adventurers wove an aura of mystery and half-truths around themselves, using fear and intimidation to gain an edge over the superstitious and cowardly criminal element; others hinted at mystic abilities or relied on homebrewed superscience to defeat their foes. Mystery men slip relatively easily into the Mythos. Early pulp heroes were rarely superhuman in their attributes, and concerned with secrecy, weird crimes, mysteries, the latest scientific breakthroughs and sometimes the strangest mystic beliefs. A given masked crusader might have stumbled onto a Mythos-cult or Mythos-based crime, such as a theft from a local museum, the death of a prominent local scientist, the strange disappearance of a group of bootleggers in the strange tunnels on the outskirts of town, or any other odd occurrence. Alternately, the masked vigilante might be empowered by the Mythos in some fashion, and thus become the subject of the player‘s investigation, or the investigators and the players could appear to be facing the same cult or individual and decide to join forces and information.

Whatever the case, Mythos-based mystery men are generally secretive, egotistical, adventurous, and well-prepared. These are people who have the knowledge and ability to fight crime or pursue their own goals, and the desire (or perhaps common sense) to conceal their identity while doing so; this bespeaks a very driven nature. Imagine what precautions you yourself would take if you seriously decided to become a masked crimefighter or villain. Any mystery men that operate for a few months without being caught, while not necessarily any better than the average investigator, will have made emergency arrangements that give them an edge on others—much as how modern-day survivalists stockpile of weapons and canned food might pay off if civilization does take a dramatic turn for the worst. The following Masked Mythos are given as examples that Keepers may choose to incorporate in their games, however they see fit. Investigators may end up working with them, or facing off against them; they may be the heroes or villains of an encounter as necessary. The Asp Turf: Paris Description: An athletic, dark woman who wears a wig and black cotton dress somewhat in the style of ancient Egypt, with her eyes blacked out by kohl. She bears a small revolver crafted like a spitting serpent, and a sword-stick whose handle resembles and asp‘s head. Legend:A dusky-skinned female adventurer, the Asp is a notorious vigilante who strikes down art thieves, dealers in the trade of illicit paintings and antiquities, and counterfeiters. Both client and purveyor are equally guilty in her gaze, and liable to feel the bite of the Asp. Her victims are often discovered killed by blade or bullet, each marked with an unknown but deadly snake venom. The French newspapers would be unanimous in their praise for the Asp‘s work, had her exploits not coincided with the disappearance of several ancient Egyptian artifacts and paintings at the same time. As it stands, those few in Paris who know of her activities half believe her a thief herself. Secret Identity: Julienne Dupois, an attendant herpetologist at the Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes in Paris. Julienne traces her heritage to Napoleon‘s expedition to Egypt, when one of his lesser officers brought home a pretty young Egyptian wife. Julienne pretends a limp, requiring the use of a cane (her sword-stick) and disguising her natural agility. Mythos Connection: Julienne‘s ancestress was part of an ancient and degenerate cult of Yig, subsumed in a morass of Egyptian superstition. While Julienne inherited the cult‘s rites and lore—her costume as the Asp is a modern variation on the ancient priestess garments—she also inherited terrible feuds with rival cults, such as the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh, and the duty to see that their gods do not awaken. Her half-brother is a Child of Yig that Julienne cares for in a hidden chamber at the Ménagerie, and it is his venom that coats her weapons. The Asp STR 13 CON 13 SIZ 9 INT 16

POW DEX APP EDU SAN HP

20 18 18 18 55 11

Damage Bonus: None Weapons: Sword-stick 80%, damage 1d6*; Asp pistol 75% (7.65mm revolver), damage 1d8* *A successful hit also delivers a dose of venom from a half-human Child of Yig. There is no known antivenin for this poison, and the afflicted will die in agony with a few minutes if cut or stabbed by the blade, and in few days if shot (most of the venom oxidizes when the bullet is fired, lessening its effects). Skills: Ancient Egyptian 20%, Art History 85%, Climb 55%, Cthulhu Mythos 17%, Disguise 60%, Dodge 66%, English 50%, French 90%, Herpetology 80%, Hide 65%, Jump 45%, Library Use 35%, Occult 80%, Persuade 75%, Sneak 60%, Spot Hidden 33% Spells: Charm Reptile (as Charm Animal, but only works on snakes and other reptiles, including Serpent Men and the Children of Yig); given 1d3 months of research and practice, the Asp can create and learn a Command Animal spell for any specific species of snake. Equipment: Asp stick (sword-stick, contains Child of Yig venom reservoir), Asp Pistol (7.65mm pistol, bullets soaked in Child of Yig venom), collection of Egyptian magical scrolls describing the rites, spells, and cults of Yig (Ancient Egyptian; Cthulhu Mythos +10 percentiles; -1d10/1d20 Sanity points; Spells: Charm Reptiles, various Command Animal (snake species) spells. The Dream of Justice Turf: Washington D.C. Description: A shadowed figure, half-remembered from the lands of sleep, never seen clearly. Legend: In the heart of America, the bad sleep well—racketeers, gangsters, corrupt union officials and common murderers and thieves rest after their days and nights of terrible labor, only some never awaken, their bodies found riddled with bullets. Others who have survived their encounters whisper of being stalked in their dreams by a thing out of nightmare, a tyrannical figure that beat the confessions of their crimes out of them—and sure enough, several times the police have received cryptic tips and evidence via anonymous mail, enough to send dozens of criminals to jail for their crimes. Secret Identity: Dr. Sidney Lee Josephs, a genial older psychologist whose bright smile hides a broken heart: his wife and children were taken from him, murdered in his home as they slept by a thief. The thief was never caught, but Josephs found justice all the same, through his dreams. Mythos Connection: Josephs, with the aid of a certain mystic pillow, the deft use of narcotics (making good use of his prescription pad), and certain things he has learned

though correspondence with an experienced dreamers has gained access to the Dreamlands and certain related abilities, which he uses to waylay and punish sleeping criminals. As he continues in his adventures, the Dream of Justice will no doubt encounter stranger creatures from beyond the fields we know. The Dream of Justice STR 10 CON 17 SIZ 12 INT 18 POW 18 DEX 12 APP 14 EDU 25 SAN 66 HP 16 Damage Bonus: None. Weapons: Syringe 75%, damage 1 + contents Skills: Chemistry 20%, Credit Rating 50%, Cthulhu Mythos 3%, Dream Lore 53%, Dreaming 58%, English 100%, German 30%, Library Use 50%, Medicine 60%, Persuade 90%, Pharmacy 60%, Psychology 88% Spells: Brew Dream Drug, Dream Vision, Implant Fear, Implant Suggestion, Mesmerize, Nightmare, Send Dreams, Snare Dreamer Equipment: Odic Pillow (allows the sleeper to use the Wandering Soul spell when they sleep with it under their head; unlike the regular spell the pillow allows the user to move in time rather than space, so as to view past events), collection of letters with Randolph Carter and Moris Klaw (English; 25 weeks to study and comprehend; Dream Lore +16 percentiles; 1d8/2d8 Sanity loss; Spells: Brew Dream Drug, Dream Vision, Nightmare, Send Dreams, Snare Dreamer). Mason & Dixon Turf: London Description: Mason is a tall, older gentleman with auburn hair going to grey at the temples and blue eyes, often impeccably dressed and never without his trademark cane, and often a small revolver or two in his pockets. Dixon is younger, shorter and with a more slender build than Mason, sporting light brown hair and brown eyes, his clothing often finely made but shows signs of wear and neglect. When ―in character‖ the two wear matching tuxedoes, with half-capes, white gloves, and domino masks. Legend: Mason & Dixon are gentlemen detectives, aesthetes who move about the different strange social circles of London, picking up on unusual and clever crimes and solving the mysteries behind them, preferably by abetting the police rather than in spite of them. While not afraid of a spot of danger, particularly Mason, the pair prefer to leave actual arrests and the like to the coppers and Scotland Yard, a cooperative attitude which has endeared them to certain of the officials that would otherwise frown on their activities.

Secret Identity: ―Mason‖ is Sir Edwin Holland, one of the Holland Baronets; and ―Dixon‖ is Conn de Genkell, third son of the Baron Aghrim. De Genkell‘s older brothers were killed in the Sudan, leaving him as heir to the title when his father dies. Mythos Connection: Mason & Dixon mostly concern themselves with the elaborate frauds, murders, and blackmail that preoccupy London‘s upper classes, but in their time have run into quite a few unusual—some would say supernatural—elements which have tested their resolve and mental fortitude, including encounters with ghouls, the by-blow last heir of the De la Poer line, and the terrible Worms of the Earth. Mason STR 17 CON 17 SIZ 15 INT 15 POW 14 DEX 13 APP 12 EDU 20 SAN 73 HP 18 Damage Bonus: +1d4 Weapons: Fist/Punch 60%, damage 1d3+db; .45 revolver 85%, damage 1d10+2 Skills: Credit Rating 75%, Dodge 35%, Drive Automobile 25%, English 100%, French 14%, German 14%, Greek 25%, History 30%, Know London 75%, Latin 25%, Law 40%, Listen 80%, Occult 18%, Persuade 50%, Sneak 22% Equipment: Cane (conceals a small flask of American whiskey), automobile, matched pair of .45 revolvers

Dixon STR CON SIZ INT POW DEX APP EDU SAN HP

10 10 10 19 19 13 14 25 64 10

Damage Bonus: None. Weapons: Fist/Punch 30%, damage 1d3; Cane (Bartitsu) 60%, damage 1d6 Skills: Credit Rating 45%, Cryptography 75%, Dodge 15%, English 100%, First Aid 25%, French 36%, Hebrew 15%, History 75%, Irish Gaelic 50%, Law 60%, Library Use

88%, Occult 55%, Spot Hidden 90% Equipment: Fighting cane, notebook The Prince in Yellow Turf: Chicago Description: A dandy clad in a suit of raw yellow silk, the lower half of his face concealed by a yellow silk veil. His skin has a particularly jaundiced tint, like that of an old Chinaman or well-aged parchment, and his eyes are strange with an almost Asiatic cast to them, as you sometimes see in those with Indian blood, but the eyes are yellow. He often appears and disappears in a cloud of choking yellow smoke. Legend: The Prince in Yellow is a vigilante of the old school, making war on Chicago‘s organized crime. He appears suddenly and without warning wherever criminals gather in numbers, reeking terrible carnage with his awesome machine weapons or poisonous yellow gases. Secret Identity: John Hermann Meville, a chemist and soldier who works at the Eight Regiment Armory. Meville‘s weapons are of his own design, and forged in secret at the Armory. He uses a sulfur compound to change his skin color and special contact lenses that allow him to see through his billowing yellow smoke. Mythos Connection: Meville‘s actions have caught the attention of various Mythos entities and cultists in Chicago, though he is not directly aware of this yet. His appearance and mystique have led several to believe he is no less than an avatar or servant of the King in Yellow. Several of his organized crime targets held some position in local cults or powers, particularly ―Big Fish‖ Marsh (whose ties ‗back east‘ were widely speculated on), which have further cemented this notion. The Prince in Yellow STR 13 CON 15 SIZ 14 INT 17 POW 12 DEX 14 APP 12 EDU 20 SAN 63 HP 13 Damage Bonus: None. Weapons: Fist/punch 75%, damage 1d3; Head Butt 50%, damage 1d4; Machine pistols* 85%, damage 1d10 * These hand-crafted weapons are equivalent to an Uzi SMG, and are unique for the time period. Skills: Climb 50%, Credit Rating 18%, Chemistry 89%, Conceal 75%, Craft Firearms 90%, Disguise 50%, Dodge 75%, Drive Automobile 50%, English 100%, Hide 70%,

Jump 25%, Know Chicago Streets 76%, Throw 50% Equipment: Yellow contacts (negate vision penalties for gas), yellow veil (negates penalty of breathing in gas), primitive bullet-proof vest (6 H.P. armor for the chest and back only), two machine pistols (equivalent to Uzi SMGs), supply of gas capsules. Yellow Gas This is a clear liquid which, when exposed to oxygen, quickly forms a billowing cloud of toxic yellow gas that smells strongly of brimstone. A single capsule thrown on the ground is sufficient to completely conceal an adult human (about a 2 meter sphere), and settles and dissipates in 3 rounds, depending on local conditions (lack of moving air causes it to last longer, up to 10 rounds in heavily confined spaces). Unprotected individuals caught in the cloud will feel their eyes water and throats blister: individuals take 1d4 damage and must make a Suffocation Test while they remain within the cloud. The Unsufferable Light Rumors that the Prince in Yellow drives around in an armored yellow Rolls Royce are true, but the car is so conspicuous that he rarely brings it out of the garage, and even then only at night. The vehicle is armored (6 H.P. all locations except windows and tires, which are 2 H.P.), and has a ram attached to the front for breaking through wooden doors or walls. A switch in the dash allows the vehicle to release clouds of yellow gas directly behind it, allowing it to escape. The Unspeakables Turf: New York Description: Each of the Unspeakables appears as any other resident of New York, but when ―in action‖ they pull up black scarves that cover their entire face, leaving only the suggestion of eyes, nose, mouth, and other features. Legend: The scene is like any other in New York, with a dozen people milling around tending to normal everyday business. Then, half of them will pull strange black scarves over their heads, and the blood will run in the streets. Despite never saying a word to one another, the Unspeakables will engage in a highly coordinated battle with whatever crooks they are after, usually capturing the entire gang and leaving them trussed up for the police. When done, the Unspeakables break apart, each in a different direction, and at some point takes off their scarf—disappearing into the faceless crowds of New York. Secret Identity: The Unspeakables is a gang of at least a half-dozen individuals from all walks of life. Individual Unspeakables are generally quiet, hardworking and self-educated men and women from all walks of life who continue about their normal business until contacted by the shadowy character ‗Y‘ through a strange voice in their heads. Mythos Connection: Unlike many of the other mystery men, the Unspeakables were created specifically to counter certain Mythos activity in New York, such as the cult in Red Hook and the depredations of the Deep Ones near Coney Island. The mysterious ‗Y‘—possibly with technology loaned from the Mi-Go of Yuggoth or even the Great Race of Yith—organizes the entire crew using advanced scientific equipment to spy on and communicate with them without making a sound.

Average Unspeakable STR 10 CON 10 SIZ 10 INT 15 POW 9 DEX 10 APP 10 EDU 16 SAN 70 HP 10 Damage Bonus: None. Weapons: Fist/Punch 50%, 1d3; Pocket knife 50%, 1d4; .38 revolver 50%, 1d10 Skills: Conceal 50%, Credit Rating 16%, Dodge 20%, English 80%, Hide 45%, Listen 75%, Sneak 50%, Spot Hidden 75% Equipment: Each Unspeakable has a small radio transmitter implanted in their skull, which relays Y‘s orders and can relay their location to Y. On occasion Y may lend them other equipment. 'Y', Leader of the Unspeakbles STR 10 CON 8 SIZ 9 INT 19 POW 19 DEX 15* APP 9 EDU 25 SAN 45 HP 9 *Y is paraplegic, and is limited in his mobility to how far he can get around in his wheelchair, pushed by an attendant Unspeakable; his Dex generally applies to what he can do with his hands. Damage Bonus: None. Weapons: Lightning gun 50%, damage 1d8 per charge* *Y‘s lightning guns are similar, though more primitive, to those of the Great Race of Yith. Each gun holds 15 charges, and any number of charges may be expended in a single shot by means of a dial – every charge over 3 gives a 5% cumulative chance that the lightning gun will be destroyed. Unspeakable lightning guns take 1 round to reload, and has a basic range of 50 yards; for every 5 yards past that subtract 5 points from the damage and 25% from the chance to hit. Skills: Astronomy 50%, Chemistry 50%, Craft Radio 85%, Craft Lightning Gun 50%,

Credit Rating 100%, Electrical Repair 90%, Electronics 90%, English 100%, Medicine 50%, German 100%, Know New York 75% Equipment: In addition to his radios and lightning guns, Y has made several other advances which prefigure many important future technologies, such as radar, microwave transmission, and color television. His laboratories feature a number of marvels for the 1890s or 1920s eras. The Unspeakable‘s omniscience is due in part to their spy network and in part to a network of surveillance cameras and transmitters which feed back to Y‘s command center. Waterbug Turf: Boston Description: A bug-eyed creature like a cross between a frog and a gorilla, with long arms that hang beneath his bow-legged knees, barely recognizable as a hideously deformed human being. Legend: Most prevalent on the docks, the Waterbug is said to prey on smugglers, foreign spies, and bootleggers—any crime that occurs in Boston Harbor is within his purview. The strange Waterbug is said to not even be human. The police deny his very existence, chalking Waterbug sightings and appearances as a ploy by criminals to cover up infighting and incompetence, a sort of self-created boogeyman. Secret Identity: James Penitence, an orphan whose parentage is unsure but resulted in his terrible, deformed appearance. James escaped the orphanage, where he was viciously bullied, at the age of twelve, and lived for a time in the salt marshes along the edge of Boston, before his physical maturation allowed him to make a life for himself completely in the waters. He maintains a hidey-hole in some ancient smuggler tunnels, accessible only through an entrance beneath the waters of the bay. As the Waterbug, James preys on those who bully the local fishermen and longshoremen, remembering how he was bullied. His great love is a young blind girl from the same orphanage, Amelia Dalton, who makes a living fishing out of the harbor. Mythos Connection: James Penitence is a Deep One hybrid, although a hybrid of what no one is quite sure; whatever his other parent was, they were not completely human either. As a result of this mixed heritage, James does not hear the call of the Deep Ones quite so clearly as his kin, and has a certain attraction to strange places and energies—often just in time to stop a cult sacrifice, or battle some otherworldly beasty with his vast, unnatural strength. Waterbug STR 35 CON 18 SIZ 18 INT 13 POW 11 DEX 12 APP 3 EDU 8 SAN 15 HP 18

Move 8/12 Swimming Damage Bonus: +2d6 Weapons: Claw 65%, 1d6+db* *These unarmed attacks count as magical for the purpose of harming unusual Mythos entities. Armor: 2 point thick skin & scales Sanity Loss: 0/1d3 Sanity points to see the Waterbug Skills: Cthulhu Mythos 13%, English 40%, Fish for Food 50%, Hide 85%, Sense Dimensional Disruption 50%, Sneak 40%, Swim 100%, Swim Quietly 75% As a Deep One hybrid, the Waterbug is vulnerable to spells and Mythos effects that target Deep Ones—he can be the subject of Call Deep One, for instance, or the spell Enchant Tablet. His other parentage, however, gives him inhuman strength, strange senses, and the ability to harm otherdimensional beings.

Ten Views of Arkham, the Mythos City
The Cthulhu Mythos is such a wide and varied body of literature, that Keepers and players can easily get lost navigating the many and often contradictory avenues that the stories follow. Most keep to the familiar downtown and streets of Lovecraft's own established "canon" and the ringing neighborhoods of his close contemporaries—Clark Ashton Smith, Robert E. Howard, and so on, though some who do go that way get lost down strange alleys and find themselves in very different parts of town. Others like to visit the Old City, the ancient quarters of Lovecraft's predecessors—Lord Dunsany, Arthur Machen, et al. The stories by the different authors tend to cluster in the same places—London and New York, west Texas and southern France, Goatswood and the Miskatonic River Valley, called Lovecraft Country, with its capital of Arkham. Arkham is a name to conjure with, and so a Keeper should. Setting is crucial to any chronicle, and the ideas that a setting are based on and are introduced to the players set the tone and define the nature of a campaign. This series of post posits ten possible—and not always contradictory—ways of viewing and using entire cities as Mythos settings. For the purpose of this thread, the focus is Arkham, but anyone that visits the source materials given will find that the basic precepts are sound for any city with a little work and a lot of imagination. Hopefully, this thread will spawn a few ideas for Keepers— either in how they present their games, or maybe as the seed for an adventure or two to come. The Dreaming City Source Inspiration: The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath by H.P. Lovecraft, Xuthal of the Dust by Robert E. Howard Much that man has loved and thought lost forever lies still Beyond The Fields We Know, in the Dreamlands, accessible only through the wall of sleep. Dreaming cities are the vibrant reflections of urban spaces living or dead, and dreamers from that place often find

themselves mirrored there during their waking and midnight hours. Indeed, some residents become so skilled in their dreaming and so close that the cities begin to merge within their mind, and some of their most important works are done while dreaming as well as awake. The Arkham of the Dreamlands is a quaint metropolis of the town's best and worst days. The refined Arkham contains the energy the early town through its phases of growth, the buildings and streets captured at their moments of highest beauty and most refined dignity—and beneath it all, the darksome nightmares of the otherworldly that have afflicted the town for centuries. There are horrors that haunt the waking Arkham that can be encountered fully-fleshed in dreaming Arkham, witch-trees that bear ropes long since rotten and taken down in the real world. Dreaming Arkham wears all its treasures and all of its sins for the dreamers to experience…there are secrets and forgotten memories walled up in little-used streets which can only be trodden in dream, and citizens who walk those midnight paths every night, for their own reasons. In a Dreaming City campaign, the urban setting is tightly tied to the Dreamlands echo or reflection of the city, just as Providence was mirrored in The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath. Player characters may be drawn to the dreaming city, or else find their way there by spell or skill—and discover that they are not the only ones in the town who have made their way there. Whatever the case, the actions of the player characters in both the waking and sleeping worlds affects both. Keepers who choose to run a Dreaming City chronicle are encouraged to populate the dreaming city not only with mystics, sorcerers, and nightmare beasts, but ordinary townsfolk and urbanites, who are drawn to this place to act out what they cannot in their waking hours. Non-player characters, for instance, may not remember all of what occurs in their dreaming, but the encounters they have with the player characters will still affect them. Imagine how you would feel, to meet in the flesh a man you saw just last night for the first time in a dream, or to encounter an old friend whom you had felt kill you in a nightmare only a few hours before. Dreams may overcome the hurdles of communication, and heal wounds of mind and spirit that leave many dumb—provided the player characters can encounter those people in their dreams, and guide them through their difficulties. For some, dreams are preferable to their waking life. A beggar on the streets of Arkham who the player characters casually dismissed may be king in the Dreaming City, one of the great dreamers whose knowledge of the place is so intimate and their love so immense that they can recreate each cobble and brick of the old beloved houses and landmarks—and unwilling to help those who refused to help him. Dreaming cities are places of memory, and as such contains much of the history of the town—when the library fails to supply the necessary volume for some incident, the dreaming city may yet hold a clue to what really happened. Houses that burned down may yet stand erect, and old stories may replay themselves on the streets of a younger Arkham, should the right dreamer be found. Very old cities, like London, are built on the ruins of older cities still, and at the Keeper's option a skilled dreamer could wander down the right alley and so emerge in the dreaming Londinium of Roman times or an earlier

age—even to a prehuman settlement on the same geographic spot. Secret horrors sometimes yet lurk in the dreaming cities that the investigators defeated in the waking world, the echo of the pain and fear that the city felt and may still feel. Dreaming London may have Jack the Ripper stalking his streets and racking up his astral body count, and old Wizard Whateley—or something wearing his skin—may yet reside in dreaming Dunwich, looking up at Sentinel Hill, which men once called Dagoth Hill. The Alien City Source Inspiration: The Invisibles by Grant Morrison, Encounter At Farpoint (Star Trek: The Next Generation) by D.C. Fontana and Gene Roddenberry Cities are one thing that separate man from beasts. Some insects build vast hives, and humans recognize the vague spiritual kinship between those sprawling complexes and their own towns and cities, but few have any real understanding of the nature of the connection. Cities are alien things, a disease infecting the human psyche from some other place. We think we design them, build them to suit our purposes, but in truth the thing behind the city dries us to our ends, a self-building pattern that incorporates us into its design, not some random accumulation of buildings. A city's influence is quiet and simple, as they desire only to maintain and grow at their own pace, perhaps someday to be carried with man to new worlds, to build across fresh landscapes. When riled, though, their power is immense. There have always been those sensitives among us who were aware, at some level, of the nature of cities. The more easily disturbed become arsonists, fighting back at what the nightmare creatures that lurk in the artificial structures of wood and concrete. Others accept the entities, entreat them, make contact and pacts in exchange for influence and power. These sorcerers are more successful, but no less mad, for they have accepted the inevitability of the city's dominion over man—or perhaps it is just contact with the city itself which does such things to the mind of the wizard, for the mind of a city is an inhuman thing, running at glacial pace on some lines, and fast as the speed of an electric street light on others. Arkham as an Alien City is nearly a weaker Great Old One in its own right. For centuries it was imprisoned, unembodied, in the land and air and soil. At first it tried to work on the lower orders of animals, with no success, but then it snared the minds of man, and by subtleties it has built for itself a new body. First came the village of the First Peoples, and later the strange constructions of the colonials. Now it draws to itself greater powers, tying itself into the network of telephone and telegraph lines, gaining access once more to the wireless spectrum of radio and experimental television channels. Now too, it has talked to its great servants, the ghouls and unquiet spirits who occupy the cemeteries it has caused to be raised. One of the more eccentric engineering professors of Miskatonic University has caught a hint of Arkham's vitality, and likens it to the inorganic processes of his analog computers, which may simulate certain functions of life; still, this is only a pet theory of his. Keepers who wish to this option may use it similar to Cthylla, Zoth-Ommog, or some other lesser Mythos entity. In such chronicles may exist spells such as Contact Arkham,

Contact Dunwich, and others. The cities have much to offer to sorcerers, directing them to secret places, hidden lore and wealth, and sharing with them the lost histories of murder, adultery, theft, blasphemy and sorcery that can make even the meanest individual a person of influence about town. In exchange, cities such as Arkham desire arcane services, the dispatch of potentially dangerous elements—perhaps even the elimination of rival communities to fuel their own growth. Like other Mythos entities, cities are inhuman things—when they make pacts with human worshipers, their motives and means are often inscrutable and against the rationale of human logic or the basis of human knowledge. Many cities may work toward a point when a Call Deity spell may be cast— which requires the construction of certain monuments, the alignment of many streets, and a minimum population—and which almost always results in tremendous horror when unleashed. Should a Call Arkham spell be cast, the people of the town would likely be doomed, little more than fodder for the urban force now unleashed. In time, Arkham would settle again…but this time, a ghost town in wait, eager to entrap passing visitors for its own needs. The Infinite City Source Inspiration: Grimjack by John Ostrander and Timothy Truman, Nexus: The Infinite City by Jose Garcia, Robin D. Laws, Bruce Baugh, Ian Brennan, Rob Heinsoo, Doug Hulick, Steve Kies, and Tim Toner There are many worlds, beyond this one, some say parallel to this own planet. By some symmetry, there are places that share the same name or spirit, that exist on more worlds than one. In how many works of fiction are there New New Yorks, or Bostons of different yet strangely similar character? In some of those works, one can travel through such places, as Alice went through the looking glass, while in others they are all stitched together, forming an infinite city—one city, reflected thousands of times on different worlds, the strange geometry of their streets aligning and mapping one to another with little escape. In this chronicle, the center of the game is the Infinite City. It is the crossing-point of worlds, the nexus of realities through which the investigators must pass, or perhaps are trapped within. The Infinite Arkham sprawls through many worlds, and the Mythos entities that occasionally plague the town are often but visitors from some parallel Arkham. By going down the right—or wrong—alley, the investigators may find themselves in a subtly different Arkham, with no apparent way to return home. Their journeys through the infinite worlds can bring them to Arkhams were the Great Old Ones reign, or their worship is widespread and open, or to Gernsbackian science fiction utopias of crystal and togas. Their enemies are no doubt those few sorcerers or more mundane villains who have learned somewhat to navigate these different worlds, moving back and forth from one Arkham to another in order to fulfill their own purposes. This is a much more fantastic campaign than many Keepers are accustomed to playing, but for many it may be enough to limit the number of parallel Arkhams to a more manageable figure—such as two or three well-defined towns. Unlike other elements, Great Old Ones and other Mythos gods may not be represented on every parallel, but have a single consciousness that transcends all of them. So for a Derlethian, dualistic

game you may have two parallel Arkhams, one "positive" and one "negative", influenced by Kthanid and Cthulhu respectively, and the central Arkham of the player characters is the neutral triplet that the two entities are attempting to influence through their minions, so as to tip some cosmic scale in their own favor. A key aspect to many "infinite cities" is the relative difficulty of leaving them—the city as a setting becomes the character's universe, often cutoff somehow or for some period of time from the wider worlds they hail from. The earthly Arkham familiar to the players and player characters may simply be their entrance to a much more multiversal and cosmopolitan Arkham, which different versions of the city fade in and out according to some cosmological clock—forcing the player characters to survive in this strange but familiar city until their home reality returns in synch once more. Naturally, the Infinite City provides plenty of opportunity for introducing strange rules and stage cross-over games. Even as a one-off, the characters may wander down a strange alley and find themselves in the world of Conan the Barbarian, facing down some cult of an Elder God, or in an alternate Cthulhupunk future, Trail of Cthulhu past, Cthulhutech far future setting, etc. The Incarnate City Source Inspiration: City Come a-Walkin' by John Shirley The Incarnate City has a spirit that represents it, an avatar or expression of itself that walks the streets in physical form to carry out its will. In the scope of its powers, this may sound very similar to the Alien City above, but the alien city is by its definition an outside supernatural force, disassociated with human wants, concerns, and understanding. The Incarnate City, by comparison, is similar to the Gods of Earth. It is native to this world, this fraction of existence, and it is tied intimately to the human beings that make of up its populace, who build it up, tear it down, and keep it in repair. As a native being, the Incarnate City faces different restrictions in using its powers and pursuing its goals. It is generally limited to acting within the city limits, unable to do more than perhaps communicate with neighboring urban spaces, and threats from other planes are beyond its reach. The city knows much of what happens within it, and has great elemental powers, but it is neither omniscient or infallible, and can be fooled by magic and dark science. However, it can manifest itself, either as a physical entity, or by attuning to an appropriately sympathetic person and channeling their powers through them. The Incarnate Arkham most often takes on the appearance of a witch from centuries past, and is one of the more unstable and inscrutable of city-spirits. Too many ghouls and other Mythos entities have become a part of the city over the years, and their magic is deep within the city's foundations and bones, right down to the layout of certain streets and the strange geometry of certain houses. So Arkham wanders the streets and alleys, sometimes helping her majority human populace from being wiped out by Mythos entities, and other times assisting those some strange forces for her own ends. She prefers not to act herself, unless forced to—and some investigators in the past have discovered a version of the Call Arkham spell so as to summon her avatar to act directly against the avatar of a minor Great Old One or other similar deity—instead, she directs investigators, sometimes

calling on the animals of the city to aid them (Arkham has a Command City Animal spell that works on alley cats, rats, cockroaches, stray dogs, pigeons, and similar critters). Investigators who meet Arkham (1d4/2d4 Sanity Loss) will find her a reflection of the atmosphere of the city; her odd habits, smells, and behaviors will be oddly familiar to anyone who has walked Arkham's streets for a time, and she will gladly answer any question about the town and its history—though from the perspective of the streets and pavement, buildings and trees. Avatar powers are largely cinematic, consisting of supernatural knowledge of the city and the ability to manipulate its physical stuff, and should not come into full play unless something truly disastrous and cosmic is occurring—like Tsathoqqua being summoned in the basement of Miskatonic University. An incarnate city is durable (100 HP), but not invincible, and if destroyed the physical body or form requires time and energy to reform (24 hours or a Call Deity spell; either way every permanent resident in the city loses 1 POW when the city manifests again). City avatars are vulnerable to magic, which makes them leery of interacting with wizards—a skilled warlock could potentially call and trap or bind them. Keepers may find it useful for Arkham and neighboring towns in Lovecraft Country (Dunwich, Kingsport, Innsmouth) to be part of a loose parliament of Incarnate Cities, who cooperate for particularly large goals. Thus, an Incarnate Arkham might send the investigators to take care of some business with the Mi-Go beyond her boarders, and when they pass through Dunwich, the avatar of that town may track them down to render some message or assistance asked for by his sister city. If the city does not physically incarnate itself, it might make a connection between itself and the individual with the greatest knowledge of the city (highest appropriate skill level), who gains the city's POW and knowledge of spells for as long as they live and stay within the city limits. The Elemental City Source Inspiration: Our Lady of Darkness by Fritz Leiber Urban spaces are known for their density. People live one on top of another, move in huge crowds through small channels, build upwards and dig downwards to cram as many of themselves into a space as possible—and those people need food, water, paper, and a thousand other things to survive. Cities are focal points in the traffic of the world, and vast bulk amounts of raw materials, finished goods, food, electricity, people, and information pass through them every day. In certain senses, cities thus accumulate or centralize power into themselves. Not just political and economic power, but elemental power as well. Any Keeper or player familiar with Derleth's take on the Mythos is probably cringing at the moment, but hear me out first. The elementals that haunt major cities are inscrutable and impersonal forces attracted by the vast movement of raw materials—rivers are diverted to city reservoirs, mountains are mined into pits to supply metal for wires and stone for concrete, forests are felled to build stately homes and newspapers, tremendous fires are harnessed to fuel electrical power plants or simply feed the ten thousand stoves being sparked every night. These are nature spirits brought into an unnatural

environment, and like feral animals who gradually lose their fear of man, they adapt to the urban landscape. In one sense, the "elementals" are immaterial nature spirits that hearken back to old Grecian, Hermetic, or Alchemical ideas about the elements (earth, air, fire, water); in another sense it refers to entities that exist in those untouched environments when the city encroaches on their home—or they are subsumed by it. In Elemental Arkham, the sewers may host a tribe of Deep Ones who have never been to see, dwelling for a generation in the turgid waters of man-made tunnels tied to the tides of the Miskatonic, or the Arkham Steel Works may play host to fire vampires that dwell for the day in the vast furnaces, escaping only at night, or some stunted dholes may root and dig through the asphalt of covered streets, causing sinkholes. Witches and warlocks may have been attracted to Arkham simply because of the "elemental" forces the city brings to it, like a spider that waits in its web for the fly to become entangled. Cut off from their natural environment, the confused and weak Mythos creature becomes more vulnerable to the NPC's will, wiles, and magic. More cunning, knowledgeable, and powerful wizards may attempt to use rituals designed to channel specific elemental forces in the city. These are variations of the Summon/Bind spells, but instead of summoning creatures to the magician, the elemental entities are directed to a specific building, street, or target. This requires thorough knowledge of the geography of the city, a little arcane geometry, and certain symbolic acts, usually by multiple people operating at once. Modern investigators would recognize a superficial similarity to feng shui, as they see henchmen raising mirrors at he ends of certain streets to direct the forces to where those streets cross, or some similar action. Even if the exact mechanism of the rituals is not understood, the quasi-scientific method involved would be vastly appealing to certain CoC antagonists—greedy real estate developers, politicians, Mafiosos, Miskatonic University professors of cruel and egregious geography, etc. Warlocks of this stripe may make use of modified or custom-made surveying gear, often with a bit of an occult bent—and possibly some enchantment that can detect certain Mythos entities from afar. The Dead City Source Inspiration: The Madness of Andelsprutz by Lord Dunsany, The Fallen God by Greg Keyes We've covered in some detail above how cities may have or be spirits and intelligences, either alien to humanity or derived from them. A stranger question to ask is what happens when that anima, that intellect, ceases? What happens when a city dies? Death is not an on/off state, it is a process. Cities can be a long time dying, like a deer wounded by a hunter's arrow and left to slowly bleed out, or to pass as disease spreads through its system as the injury festers, and cities can die quickly by disaster, natural or supernatural. Sometimes the death of a city is presaged by the movement of its populace, people slowly filtering out and moving to more prosperous locales, the buildings falling into decay around it, and at other times a blow is struck that simply destroys the spirit of the community, the carefully crafted shroud of communal rules and lies that allow people

to function when living one on top of each other. When a city is on the brink of death, there are some that will do almost anything to preserve it. This is the familiar trap of Innsmouth, whose dour residents gave up things they did not know they had and committed sins they did not know the names of in exchange for good fishing and strange white gold. Part of the rituals of the Esoteric Order of Dagon and similar cults may be vaguely necromantic rites, to bind a dying city's spirit to the rotten bones of its decrepit buildings, and to sustain it long past the time when nature would have broken down the old streets and seen the last of the inhabitants move off to more fertile pastures. Arkham, as a Dying City, is one succumbing to the long decay familiar to most who know of Lovecraft Country. Decades of degenerate Mythos worship, bad weather, and economic hardship have stifled the town and poisoned the metaphysical city entity to the brink of death. The undegenerate families move out into more vibrant towns, sending their children out to universities in Boston and New York, never to return to the old homestead if they can help it. Cults plague the cities, spreading like a disease, and as the spirit of community breaks down the crimes spread, families are torn apart by hidden passions, law becomes corrupt and city services break down. Trash mounds in the street, homes go unpainted, lawns uncut; drugs move in, and boys and girls turn to prostitution and spastic vandalism to escape their homes. Dying cities are bleak places, zero sum games where criminals and honest men prey on each other, and no one can make a profit except at someone else's expense. It is a city in the grip of the Great Depression, a noir city, and down those mean streets stalk men and women that are meaner still. Sometimes madness grips the frightened and world weary populace, and that is when charlatans, sorcerers, and cults are most openly accepted. The above description works whether or not there is an actual spiritual or Mythos force at work in the city, the basic idea holds equally well for a metaphysical approach—faced with decline, a kind of hysteria can naturally present itself to the populace that leads to the embrace of strangers willing—and sometimes able—to bring some kind of relief. While sick and twisted beyond any normal virtue, the group activities of the Esoteric Order of Dagon can forge social links that had been grown worn and frayed by desperation. Maybe there is no Elder God buried in the concrete and brick of Arkham, no spirits to be bound, fed, cajoled, or forced by virgin sacrifice or the reading of arcane scriptures. What matters is that people believe in it, and thus people participate in it. Every city is about two meals away from anarchy, and most will do terrible things if thy have the courage of the mob to support them. The remainder? They don't have to be evil, to ignore what their once-friends and neighbors are doing. They just need to shut their ears and eyes, to ignore the missing children, at least until their neighbors come for them… On the other claw, you have Arkham as the Dead City. The process of dying has reached its terminal stage, and the literal ghost of the town has left, leaving behind…what? A shell of buildings and streets, people living there still but without any identity to bind them together. When Arkham dies, the identity of Arkhamites dies with it. No one

expresses their love for the city, no matter how quaint and well-preserved its old gambrel roofs may be. No one will identify themselves as a resident of the place, or conceive of themselves or others as such, any more than you may claim to be a citizen of the hill your house is built on, or of the river your boat is traveling down. With a dead city, Keepers are given a wonderful opportunity…to get weird. On the fantastical end of the sliding scale, there is the ghosts of dead cities, which may haunt strange deserts in this world or the Dreamlands, and for a time the investigators may see what the city was, before the Mythos or other factors led to its destruction. Ancient moors may contain strange mirages, places that hearken back before history records men of building cities…if man built them at all. On the horrific end of the spectrum, the death of the city's animus leaves a spiritual void, which certain Mythos entities may then move to fill. Imagine an Arkham filled with the essence of Shub Niggurath, the Black Goat of a Thousand Woods. A dark fertility would creep over the city, slowly at first, and then in increasingly bizarre occurrences. Nearby forests might encroach on the city, while wholly contained parks would become overgrown and little-traveled places where fauns and Dark Young dance at night. Street animals would become more feral, and packs of wild dogs would raise their voices every night in imitation of wolves, fighting among themselves, culling the weak stragglers from the human herd. A spate of unexpected pregnancies would grip the town in the weeks and months that followed, along with a rash of darker crimes—not just the depredations of sexual predators, but the unleashing of jaded appetites which would arouse a new stratum of illicit bookstores, night people, and those people who dwell in dark corners and private spaces with knowing eyes, waiting to offer people those things they want to do, and to have done to them. The Heart of the City Source Inspiration: The Lupercal (Rome), the London Stone (London), Declare by Tim Powers Some cities have a center. Not necessarily a geographic center, but a physical place or object which embodies the city and its history on a metaphysical or symbolic level. While rarely recognized as such, these keystones carry with them a momentum that seems to preserve them throughout the history of the city. While these hearts contain a certain nostalgic and civic historical value, to occultists they tend to have a more concrete value. The Heart of the City is a symbol of the city, an integral part of it, whether the city knows it or not. A wizard who has dominion over the city's heart can target anyone in the city with their spells, whether they can see the person or not. More frightening, with the proper expenditure of power (Magic Point or POW cost x 100) they can cast spells that affect the entire city. A warlock could summon ten thousand fire vampires, or send entire city blocks into the Dreamlands to seal a pact with the Moon-Beasts or Men of Leng. Perhaps easier on Keepers is the Heart of a City which also bears some trace of Mythos influence, and which may itself be a Mythos artifact. In shadow-haunted Arkham, the city's heart may be the Arkham Drogue, an ancient, rudely carved stone anchor. The Drogue was said to have been brought (or, sometimes, found) by the first colonists to settle in Arkham, and throughout the two hundred odd years of the town's existence, the

Drogue has never left the city limits, making instead a stately ambit from park to private residence, memorial garden at the Arkham Sanatorium to a storage room at Miskatonic University. The Drogue is ancient, beyond most human reckoning. A scholar of Egyptology at Miskatonic declared it was the exact same ancient form that the Egyptians used on their own vessels, while a professor of Geology will claim it is older even than that. Keepers can use the Arkham Drogue and similar monuments, which is fairly immobile without considerable physical strength (a single shoggoth or ten strong men with tools might lift it, less if a crane or hoist is involved), as a focus for Mythos events, without needing to give it any particular powers. Or perhaps the Drogue is tied to Mythos activity in the city, and the stone acts as a protection that keeps the worst of the cultists and monsters to Arkham's outskirts—like a less powerful version of the Eye of Light and Darkness, but which does not require recharging. Alternatively, the Drogue may attract otherdimensional beings, serving to "anchor" them to this plane—provided they stay within a certain area around it—but when they are drawn into its immediate vicinity, they become so attuned to this dimension that their supernatural defenses leave them and entities formerly immune to magical weapons are now vulnerable, and vanquishable. The City Source Inspiration: Streets of Fire, Dark City, Tron: Legacy, Pleasantville, Act II: The Father of Death by The Protomen The City is a universe into itself, self-contained and self-absorbed. It exists alone, without reference or explanation to its history and past. The smallest details of life become mysteries that unfold slowly over the course of a chronicle—where did the city come from? Where did the people come from? How does it get milk, water, bread, meat? What do people do during the days and nights, how does it operate by itself? The bulk of the populace does not concern itself with these existential questions; the city simply is, and they have their place and positions in it. The girl at the ticket window at the Arkham Cinema does not ask where the films come from, or what strange places may be shown there. The insurance salesman knows nothing beyond his beat, has never been outside the city or doesn't think of leaving. The details of life and history become unasked, unknown, and no one registers consternation until such issues are brought up—there is no talk of the country outside the city, no discussion of foreign nationalities at all. The Latin Quarter of Arkham may be filled with people who speak French and Spanish and Italian, who carry about themselves the stereotypes and cultural trappings of cultures that carry no name or identifier to the inhabitants of the city. They simply are the way they are. Keepers on the lookout for a way to throw a curveball at their players might enjoy playing with this concept. A campaign set in The City of Arkham…and beyond Arkham, there is nothing. It may be wilderness, or utter barren desolation, the inky depths of space, or just the unwritten blankness before creation. Whatever the case, there is Arkham, and then there is the Outside. Here, an encounter with the Mythos may be as simple as traveling to the city limits, provided the investigators can find them, as the city streets may loop back around, or the outermost inhabitants may refuse to acknowledge, by glance or word, the very existence of some direction that leads outside the city. Faced

with the vast empty plain or space outside the city may alone be sufficient to drive the inhabitants mad—imagine living your whole life in the shadow of towers, in a herd of people, and for the first time feeling the terrible, emptiness of being alone. The City of Arkham might have a high degree of agoraphobics indeed. The residents of The City of Arkham may or may not have truck with the Mythos, but here at least the Keeper and players are breaking fresh ground. Instead of replaying all the old stories of Lovecraft, Derleth, etc., they can approach the case from a fresh perspective—as actual investigators, actual explorers, mapping out this new world they find themselves in, with all that is familiar and weird about it. Keepers may develop some hints of history to perplex and intrigue the players—Arkhamites speak of "The War," and by dint of appearance and context players may at first think they speak of World War I, or perhaps in an 1890s campaign the Crimean War. But in a world with only the city in it, what was the War that everyone knows of but no one will talk about? If there are veterans with stumpy limbs and terrible wounds, what weapons caused those, what enemies? It is up to the investigators to find out…if they choose to. The City of Arkham can still be simply a backdrop for a Call of Cthulhu campaign, a bit of fun kept in the background as the player characters bust cults and attend to grisly events at Miskatonic University, so long as they do not try to leave the city. A famous recurring thought throughout the campaign might be "Where is Dunwich?" or "Where is Innsmouth?", as references to these mysterious buroughs can be found here or there…but not the places themselves. The City works in part because of the nature of fictional narrative and the role playing game process. Keepers provide certain details and descriptions to their players, and the player's imaginations fills in the rest. What most Keepers and players don't realize is that what is left out of a description can be every bit as important as what is provided. False assumptions and the outward glamour of a 1920s urban space are sufficient for most players as they sit down to a campaign, it is only after a little while that the slight absences begin to make themselves apparent—and then there is room for sudden and terrible revelations, as players come to where the sidewalk ends, and see what lies beyond. The Eternal City Source Inspiration: To Rescue Tanelorn and other stories by Michael Moorcock, the Amber novels by Roger Zelazny The Eternal City is the one, true city—one which exists perfect and forever, inviolate, with some pale reflections on every plane or dimension. In some cases, the city may be a nexus of realities, the sole "zero" point where many dimensions intersect; whereas in others the city is primal, the first and always. Because of this primacy, as the fundamental frequency and archetype of which all other versions of it are but pale shadows, any change to the Eternal City is reflected in each of its parallels and derivatives. Because of its inviolable nature, such changes are difficult, and many strange entities and travelers come to rest there. For all the differences between the Eternal City and its shadows, the Eternal City remains evocative and recognizable as a relation to the others—the buildings may be of strange stone, and the inhabitants alien enough, but the streets are laid out in a template that all other versions of the city follow, and some Miskatonic wends through it.

When the Eternal City is unique to all realities, with no shadows, it become a special instance of the Infinite City, a single city that connects to all dimensions. Eternal Arkham is the axis mundi, a limbo between dimensions where physical and metaphysical laws permit many otherwise exclusive entities to exist. The Arkham of this world is but a reflection of that supernal, Eternal Arkham, which will continue to exist long after this Arkham has been destroyed, or replaced and rebuilt as New Arkham in some strange country. Should the investigators ever discover the Eternal Arkham, they will find a quiet village where even the young child may be classed among the greatest sorcerers and scientists of this Earth, or else an abomination beyond all ken. The Eternal Arkham is a place where humanity and the Mythos have struck a superlative balance, and all the dark arts and sciences have long been mastered and understood by a populace that is no longer completely human, either in body or understanding. Such an Eternal City may resemble a far future even by Cthulhutech standards, or else a golden-tinged past reminiscent of popular fables of Atlantis and Mu. Keepers may use the Eternal City as a goal for the investigators in particularly cosmic cases (stop Cthulhu before he eats Eternal Arkham, for if it falls all Arkhams shall be destroyed!), or perhaps a source of supernatural assistance and enlightenment—the wise Eternal Arkhamites may provide the proper counterspells or artifacts to defeat Mythos entities, provided the investigators can find and trust them The Real City Source Inspiration: The Innswich Horror by Edward Lee, The Wolves of St. August by Mike Mignola The Real City exists in our world, or as close to it as the Keeper is willing to come. In this world, Lovecraft and his circle existed and wrote their stories, then passed away to leave their literary legacy behind them. Here, the Mythos are fiction, by those few Weird Tales aficionados aware of them, and even Arkham House has yet to be founded. Arkham is a fiction, based mostly on the real-life town of Salem, Massachusetts, where nary an otherworldly horror has ever dwelled. …and yet, might still exist in some form. It is an old trope of fiction that the writer knew more whereof than they wrote, and that the adventures and horrors they penned were based more on their own factual recollections and experiences than their fevered imaginations and innate talent. So investigators traveling in Massachusetts may be shocked to find a sign pointing to Dunwich, or some town with eerie similarities to Lovecraft's own Innsmouth. Here again, the Keeper has the opportunity to approach the Mythos with a fresh perspective, and to cover fresh ground. The player characters may be assumed to be familiar with the Mythos, or if can be given actual Mythos tales as in-character documents—but in this setting, those tales are just that, fictions which may have some horrible kernel of truth, but which need not be completely accurate—and indeed, may even be misleading. The investigators will be forced to confront new horrors, guided only by unreliable tales and half-truths, forced to question what they know and believe against

what they actually see and hear as the Keeper describes their encounters. The Real Arkham may by Stockton, Massachusetts, a sleepy enough town too small for too long to be listed on most maps…but which is larger and older than most people suspect. Indeed, it was once known as Arkham, though the inhabitants have long worked to cover up this fact, systematically removing references from state and county records. Arkham had witches in its time, and refused to attract the attention that Salem or any of the European states suffered, and so engaged in a tremendous effort to avoid infamy…but in covering its sins, the town of Stockton has permitted other, less wholesome practices to flourish. There are witch-houses here, as Lovecraft and Derleth discovered, and strange survivals. The town is a tinderbox, and all it takes to release the flame of horror beneath its skin is the tiniest spark…which the investigators may provide, by looking too closely at a half-effaced monument to a Joseph Curwen, or finding the old Indian name for the local river is the Miskatonic… Keepers in a Real Arkham campaign should probably work with their players to make more realistic characters—perhaps by frankly telling them that this new game will take place in a world where the works of Lovecraft et al. are known and fictional, and that the focus will be on historical roleplaying, not pulp adventure or occult exploration. Encourage players to be academics, ethnographers, linguists or folktale collectors interviewing the backwoods people and Indians for what scraps of their heritage remain—but don't insist upon it, because ultimately the players play as they will, and any character type can be accommodated with a little work and skill.

Keeper’s Option
This penultimate chapter is where I've tinkered and played with the system of Call of Cthulhu. These rules lack something in playtesting, but in polish they're as fine as most of what you might read in any hardcopy rulebook or official monograph. Adopting, or even testing any of these rules in a campaign does require an extra effort on the part of the Keeper; that is the price of experimental rulesets, and the best advice I can give for those intrepid few who decide to see how these work in their own games is to weigh things carefully, move slowly, and be prepared to wing it when the players do something unexpected. Most of the rules here fall into the broad categories of New Skills or Alternatives to the Cthulhu Mythos Skill. Skills and the Sanity mechanic are the hallmarks of the Rolemaster system, at least as used by Call of Cthulhu, and are the natural aspects of the system to target for tinkering. Not to cover up or eliminate any flaws in the rules (perceived or real), but merely to attempt to extend the system to cover new but related concepts. Each section is sufficient to stand by itself. Keepers that use more than one new rule in a game at once might want to make notecards or a cheat sheet for the table so that everyone knows what house rules apply, and can review them before rolling the dice.

Cthulhuology
Cthulhology is a new skill that acts as a complement and counterpart to the traditional Cthulhu Mythos skill. Where the Cthulhu Mythos skill represents actual experience and understanding, as much as is possible, of the Mythos and the creatures, entities, and forces involved, the Cthulhology skill represents an academic knowledge of the various myth-cycles, tomes, and authors—but only as myths, legends, and academic subjects, not with any understanding or full knowledge of the horror behind them. Cthulhology (01%) This skill gives the user a chance to recognize Mythos tomes, entity references, and possibly even artifacts, and to recall relevant myth-cycles, literary histories, and any academic treatment of the subject in professional journals, articles, and lectures. Cthulhology may not be used in place of the Cthulhu Mythos skill, nor used to cast spells—it deals with the known and acceptable knowledge of the Mythos, not the actual realities. When reading a Mythos tome, a character may choose to add the percentiles to their Cthulhology skill instead of their Cthulhu Mythos skill; if they do so they only gain half the percentiles (rounded up), lose no Sanity points, and cannot learn any spells from the tome. Unlike the Cthulhu Mythos skill, Cthulhology does not reduce the character's maximum sanity. Shauna Livingston has Cthulhology 16% and decides to read a copy of Cthulhu in the Necronomicon (+6 Cthulhu Mythos percentiles) as part of her graduate thesis in anthropology. Shauna adds (6/2) 3 percentiles to her Cthulhology skill, raising it to 19%. In a game with the Cthulhology skill, investigators gain Cthulhu Mythos lore at a more gradual pace, based on their exposure to actual Mythos entities. The Cthulhology skill allows characters to gain some basic understanding of the Mythos without ending up in the insane asylum, and the Cthulhology skill is a useful supplement to Cthulhu Mythos skill for literary and academic types for tracking down particular volumes or references. Forensic anthropologist Russ Morgan Gemdyke (Cthulhology 20%) and “occult detective” Squamous Smith (Cthulhu Mythos 20%) both examine a cultist crime scene, and succeed on their rolls with their respective skills. Gemdyke recalls seeing very similar markings and motifs in the literature of certain rare and exotic Polynesian sects that worship the “Demon Triad”" particularly a subsect or offshoot called “the Black Seal” and recalls that a book called the Ponape Scripture might have more information. Smith recognizes the terrible sigils of Zoth-Ommog, Ghatanathoa, and Ythogtha, the “Demon Triad” of ancient Mu, and that the scene was the site of some terrible spell or ritual—probably meant to release something! This could only be the work of one cult…a degenerate offshoot of the worshipers of dread Cthulhu…the occult terrorists known as the Black Seal! Crisis of Belief At some point, an investigator will realize that Cthulhology just doesn't cut it, they need the Cthulhu Mythos skill to succeed—or they've seen too much to keep believing that everything they've considered just myth up until now isn't real. Basically, a player will

want to convert Cthulhology into Cthulhu Mythos. This is a crisis of faith and sanity, the disbeliever accepting as fact things they were heretofore only comfortable dealing with as fiction, and it can destroy people. Mechanically, divide the character's Cthulhology skill by 2, then add it to their Cthulhu Mythos skill and subtract it from their current Sanity. Such a conversion can only happen once in a person's lifetime, even if they later raise their Cthulhology skill again. Dr. Bill Blakely has Cthulhology 30%, Cthulhu Mythos 3%, and Sanity 65. The revelation of the ghouls haunting his family crypt is too much for him to take, and those queer passages in the family annals repeat themselves in his brain. Eventually, he breaks down and accepts the truth of all that he has seen and heard and read. He adds 15 (Cthulhology/2) percentiles to his Cthulhu Mythos skill and subtracts 15 points from his SAN, leaving bill with Cthulhology 30%, Cthulhu Mythos 18%, and Sanity 50. The sudden loss of sanity prompts an Idea roll, which Bill fails: he goes indefinitely insane from the realization.

Specialized Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge
The Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge skill is one of the central aspects of Call of Cthulhu, and as a basic mechanic its function is well-defined, straightforward, and simple to use. However, it does not differentiate what sort of knowledge that the characters may have accumulated; the Cthulhu Mythos skill represents a generic collection of disturbing legends, arcane lore, readings from forbidden literature, and terrible truths. In Mythos fiction itself, the dread knowledge gained is generally much more specific, a function of either the threat the character faces or their own specific interest. What follows below are some optional rules the Keeper may use to represent this specialization of Cthulhu Mythos knowledge in their game. These rules provide greater specificity, but will also complicate the game, and should be thoroughly read, understood, and considered before use in game. The single Cthulhu Mythos knowledge skill is replaced by multiple Mythos knowledge skills known as Cycles. Each Cycle is a separate skill, and represents the character's learning in a specific area of the Mythos, usually focused around a single race of deity— this does not preclude the character from having heard or knowing of other Mythos races and deities, but only with respect to their history and interactions with the object of their specialization. Professor Sara Walton-Marsh has the R'lyeh Cycle skill, and would know something of Cthulhu, the star-spawn of Cthulhu, Cthulu's progeny (Zoth-Ommog, Cythlla, etc.), and possibly his enemies (Hastur, Kthanid, etc.), but would not know anything about the Fungi from Yuggoth, the Hounds of Tindalos, etc. Beyond this, each Cycle skill would give some chance of knowing about various texts, cults, objects, and sites relevant to the area of interest. Each Cycle is a percentile skill, and can be used and increased in the same way as the Cthulhu Mythos skill, principally from reading Mythos texts. Like the Cthulhu Mythos, a

Cycle skill lowers the character's maximum Sanity rating—unlike the Cthulhu Mythos skill, only the highest Cycle skill applies. Prof. Sara Walton-Marsh has R'lyeh Cycle 20% and Dream Cycle 15%; her maximum Sanity is 80 (100—20 = 80). When reading a Mythos text, the Keeper squares the Cthulhu Mythos percentile listed and divides the percentiles among different Cycles; keeping in mind that no text can grant more than 100%—and few should grant that much!. In this way, a relatively minor tome that focuses on a specific Cycle is generally more valuable for understanding the lore of that cycle than a larger tome covering more Cycles in less depth. A simple break down for ease of use is that a given book grants the same number of percentiles in an equal number of cycles. The Book of Eibon (English edition) grants Cthulhu Mythos +11 percentiles when studied and understood. The Keeper would then have 121 percentiles (11 x 11 = 121) to divide among various Cycles as they see fit. A possible breakdown would be: Hyperborean Cycle + 55%, R'lyeh Cycle +11%, Tsathoggua Cycle +55%. If the character studies the entire tome they gain all the Cycle skill percentiles and suffer the normal Sanity loss. However, investigators may also choose to focus for reference to their particular Cycle of interest, adding only percentiles in that Cycle (if any), and taking only half the normal Sanity loss (rounded up). Prof. Sara Walton-Marsh has spent most of the last year at the Miskatonic University Library, studying their copy of the Book of Eibon for references to the R'lyeh Mythos cycle. After 32 weeks of study, she adds 11 percentiles to her R'lyeh Cycle skill (bringing it up to 31%) and has lost 1d4 San. This Keeper‘s Option works out a little better for minor tomes. Cconsider something like Massa de Requiem per Shuggay—which normally grants Cthulhu Mythos +4 percentiles—but converted to Cycles might grant Shan Cycle +16%. The Book of Eibon is an example of a tome that focuses heavily on a few subjects (to the point where the reader would be leery of cracking any other Mythos book!), but most of the "major" lorebooks would contain vast amounts of lore on a variety of subjects—the English translation of the Necronomicon, for example, could give +15 percentiles on 15 different cycles! Mythos Cycles The terrible legendry of the Mythos is often broken down into myth-cycles, collections of stories, tales, and literary works with similar subjects, origins, or themes. The following ten myth-cycles are only suggestions, and Keepers may create their own based on their favorite Mythos stories or the needs of their campaign. Each cycle also includes a few key texts. Dream Cycle The myths covering the Dreamlands, the geography from Ulthar to the high plateau of

Leng, the means to descend the Seven Hundred Steps of Deep Slumber, and the nature of dream-creatures such as the ghouls and the hideous moon-beasts. Key Texts: Dhol Chants, On Astral and Astarral Co-ordination and Interference, On the Sending Out of the Soul Hyperborean Cycle The legends of the lost continent, its cults and strange gods, and its final strange doom. Stories focus on Mount Voormithadreth, the dwelling-place of the Voormi, AtlachNacha, and Abhoth; as well as the arch-sorcerer Eibon. Key Texts: Book of Eibon, Parchments of Pnom Klarkash-Ton Cycle The tales of Atlantis, as epitomized by its arch-priests Klarkash-Ton. Deals broadly with wars with other ancient peoples, particularly the Serpent Men and followers of Yig and various cults of the "dark gods." Key Texts: Unaussprechlichen Kulten Cultes des Ghouls R'lyeh Cycle The story of Cthulhu and his various spawn, allies, and enemies, centered around the rumors of the sunken city of R'leyh in the south Pacific. Key Texts: Necronomicon, Cthäat Aquadingen, Unaussprechlichen Kulten Yithian Cycle The stories of the Great Race of Yith, their many enemies and triumphs. Key Texts: Pnakotic Manuscripts, Eltdown Shards Zanthu Cycle The tales of Mu, recorded mainly by Zanthu,. Deals with the worship of Zoth-Ommog, Ghatanothoa, and Ythogha. Key Texts: Zanthu Tables, Ponape Scripture

The Little Mythos
Scientists and philosophers find infinities at all scales, and mysteries in the mundane. Every pursuit, every lore and discipline of knowledge has, if you take it far enough into obscure corners, some occult element. Often, these "little Mythos" are only of interest or comprehensible by those truly versed in the minutiae of the subject—but then again, often there are strange connections between many disparate fields of study, strange facts and instances which bridge the gap and establish a common ground between those, professionals or amateurs, who are familiar with them. In this way all of life is full of the Little Mythos, if you look hard enough or long enough. A painter, art professor or dealer, for example, may have the Art History skill. While mostly innocuous, Art History does brush up against the Mythos—in the form of Richard Upton Pickman, objects d'art from distant times, places and cultures, and even certain illustrations, woodcuts, etchings, engravings and the like from ancient, banned books. A truly puissant master of the Art History skill will be aware of all of these many strange items, which represent strange mysteries…why do two cultures, with no connection to

one another, depict the same figure? How could this "Zoth-Ommog" be the subject of a painting by both an old and obscure Flemish master and a recent California sculptor, when the latter could not possibly have heard of the former because the sketches were only revealed last year? In this way, a master of the mundane slowly builds up a set of facts, theories, and mysteries, knowable only to someone truly in-depth in the field, and able to draw some very strange conclusions. In Call of Cthulhu, when a character masters a skill they gain Sanity, a reflection of selfconfidence and discipline. They need it, because at the far reaches of their discipline (95100% skill rating) the character becomes ever more acutely aware of the "Little Mythos" associated with their chosen discipline. For every point in a skill above the 95th percentile, the character gains a "virtual" Cthulhu Mythos rating point. This point stacks with whatever Cthulhu Mythos skill the character may (or may not) already have, but only with regards to the character's area of expertise. "Virtual" points, as they are not "real," do not reduce maximum Sanity. Harriet Waite is a post-doctoral fellow at Miskatonic University, and has Psychology 98%. Her "virtual" Cthulhu Mythos rating is thus (98—95 = ) 03%, which applies only if she encounters a Cthulhu Mythos test that applies to Psychology. As part of her studies, Harriet does an exhaustive reading and study of the Necronomicon, which gives her a Cthulhu Mythos skill of 16%—or, with her "virtual" points, 19% when dealing with issues of psychology. If a character has mastered multiple skills, the "virtual" points stack—but only for those disciplines in question. "Virtual" Cthulhu Mythos skill percentiles gained through skill mastery cannot raised the character's effective Cthulhu Mythos rating higher than 50%. Jack Archer is a jack-of-all-trades, with 100% skill ratings in Occult, History, Latin, and Law, and a Cthulhu Mythos skill of 25%. If he was called on to examine a Mythos tome concerning the ancient Roman laws against a particular brand of pagan maleficum, he can bring all of his studies to bear on the problem(25% + 5% Latin + 5% Law + 5% History + 5% Occult = 55%)—but, given the cap, his effective Cthulhu Mythos skill for this test is only 50%. Using the Little Mythos in the Game The Little Mythos are ideally a way to ease new characters into the Mythos. Players might be encouraged to max out one skill during character creation, which helps establish the character's role and purpose in the group, while the "virtual" Mythos percentiles allow them to maintain an edge in their particular field of expertise. This evens the playing field somewhat, as it prevents book-smart characters from taking the bulk of the scenes as games progress, which sometimes happens. It also gives many good excuses for games, as a character with "virtual" Mythos percentiles may be used to generate one-off plots involving a Mythos entity or mystery relevant to their own interests—a character with Firearms 100% may discover The Stregoicavar Gun, for instance, while a character with Library Use 100% may become embroiled in a murder concerning Reference Works, which might lead to a major Mythos tome.

False Mythos Tomes
Marcus glanced at the shelves in awe. Here were the forbidden tomes, the ancient manuscripts he had sought for a lifetime. Terrible names were writ large on that infernal library: the Book of Eibon, Nameless Cults, Cultes des Goules, the Book of Dyzan, and others he had never even heard of: the R'lyeh Gospels, Prayers of the Toad God, Whateley's Cthulunomicon…how had such volumes passed his notice all these years? They must be exceedingly scarce, limited printings in strange corners of the world. With care he pulled down a black leather volume, the parchment pages brown and the iron clasps rusty with age, that claimed to be no less than the dread Necronomicon of the mad Arab. Opening to a random leaf, Marcus read a few lines, and his brow furrowed further. It spoke of the Hand of Kaä as 'the key of Yok-Sokkott'—but surely that was the Silver Key. Here was a mystery! Perhaps a fault of the translator, who undoubtedly worked from Dee's own handwritten pages…or then again, perhaps Marcus was mistaken and this was a great and hidden truth he had failed to grasp in his own researches… Source Concept: The Club Dumas by Arturo-Perez Reverte Every now and again, it's helpful to remind player characters that they don't know as much as they think they know. While small, there is a market for Mythos tomes, and markets attract thieves and conmen. The supply of such volumes is limited, and the men, women, and things that deal in them are less likely than most to scrutinize where a particular book comes from—or, even better in the mind of book dealers and counterfeiters, are willing to accept damaged and partial works. So, from time to time a library may be seeded with one or two false Mythos tomes. Particularly gullible would-be sorcerers may own dozens of such works, sifting through the counterfeits for what gems of truth the printer might have accidentally left behind, or else desperate to stock their shelves with the great forbidden books of lore. Faking A Mythos Tome The first step to counterfeiting a Mythos tome is to have some genuine idea of the contents—either an authentic Mythos tome, or enough genuine books and materials with Mythos information to form a convincing thesis. More ambitious or desperate counterfeiters might try to make do with little more than a few Mythos names and a generous amount of imagination. Whatever the source, from this seed material the counterfeiter can generate the basic content of the false tome. In this, certain elementary mistakes can be in part covered up by the very nature of Mythos books and the gullibility of the investigators. Many anachronisms or errors of fact can be put down to mistakes in translation; the juxtaposition of disparate material from far corners of the globe are natural to many Mythos tomes (such as Nameless Cults), and do not generally alarm the reader familiar with this sort of abrupt connection. If the supposition of the book is strange enough (―Millions of years before the rise of man, an ancient race of flightless waterfowl held dominion over the islands of Lemuria…‖) the player characters may accept it wholesale without looking to any facts or better research to support it.

The physical fabrication of the hoax is much more difficult, and this is where most counterfeits fall away. Superficially, the use of old hand printers and parchment or vellum died and stained with tea or coffee will do for many—true antiquarians and professional historians and archeologists will not be taken in by such measures, however. Any book being sold for thousands of dollars or more must be made from paper and materials from the period, in the technology of the period (a decided difficulty for tomes supposed to predate man!), which are hard to acquire quietly and raise the cost of the book to be sold. An easier method for many counterfeits is to publish not counterfeits of original Mythos tomes, but modern translations of such. The cost and risk is less, since modern printing techniques can be used, but the value of selling such books is less as well. Poor translations of existing Mythos tomes are unlikely to sell well to the general public, but a ―limited printing‖ of an ―obscure‖ Mythos tome can be worth much if the counterfeiter knows their market. Less often found, and more difficult to spot, are ―restored‖ Mythos tomes—the actual text is (mostly) authentic, but damaged or missing pages, which the counterfeiter creatively replaces. In this case, terrible errors may creep into an otherwise worthwhile text, and the price to acquire it goes up. In general, creating a false Mythos tome requires a successful Craft (bookmaker) skill roll; the fake can be made more beautiful (and valuable) with a successful Art (Painting or Illumination) skill roll, and more accurate with a successful Cthulhu Mythos skill roll. Spotting A False Mythos Tome Investigators likely have limited access to the scientific equipment necessary to spot a skilled fake, but a certain healthy skepticism and a few wise skill checks can uncover many fakes. Few cults should have copies of major texts—none of them needs to have three copies of the Necronomicon on the shelf, and an abundance of Mythos riches is generally a sign that at least some of the libraries have been ―padded.‖ Tomes investigators have never heard of that contain information that goes against what they have heard or experienced may in fact be incorrect—judge the text against the Mythos books already read, and Mythos entities yet encountered. Simple chemical analysis to detect the presence of any modern materials is the easiest way to detect a physical fake—the presence of plastics, artificial fibers, aluminum, etc. in the 1920s is a particular warning sign. The text of the book can tell much to librarians and antiquarians, who can pick apart the smallest discrepancies in the period of the language, the use of modern idioms, the evenness (or lack thereof) of the printing, revealing the fake. Even the history of the book, as postulated by the seller, can be picked apart by antiquarians and historians who are intimately familiar with the catalogs of major libraries, public and private. In effect, a successful Library Use skill role can detect any gross errors in the text, and a successful Archeology roll can detect any gross errors in the physical book. A successful Chemistry roll (with the necessary equipment and time in the lab) can detect a false tome

if it was created recently. Determining that the contents of the text are wrong with respect to the rest of the Mythos requires skimming the book and a successful Cthulhu Mythos roll. False Mythos Tomes in the Game The basic place for a false Mythos tome is in the library or a cultist, sitting innocuously on the bookshelf of a library or bookseller, or perhaps offered for sale to the player characters as the hook for an adventure. Aside from being a trap for investigators, a false Mythos tome may also be created and used as a bait or trap for cultists. For the purposes of game mechanics, false Mythos tomes either have a negative or a positive Cthulhu Mythos percentile modifier. A false tome with a Cthulhu Mythos percentile of +00% or higher contains actual Mythos knowledge from some source, even if it is fragmentary, unintended, or in some cases misleading. Treat these as normal Mythos books for purpose of study. An example of such a work would be a copy of the Book of Eibon (English edition) has been damaged, and the missing pages were replaced by a bookseller to increase the price of the ―complete‖ work. The book would have a Cthulhu Mythos percentile of less than an actual complete edition (so, less than +11%). False tomes with a Cthulhu Mythos percentile of -01% or lower are actively false, confusing, and liable to get an investigator or cultist killed. When done studying a tome, have the investigator make a Cthulhu Mythos skill roll—if successful, they recognize the book as the rubbish it is, and do not suffer the penalty for reading the book. If unsuccessful, reduce the character's Cthulhu Mythos skill by the correct amount, to a minimum of 01%. The best (perhaps only) way to ―undo the damage‖ so to speak is either to get a more factual source for reference and comparison (i.e. read some more Mythos books, which will add percentiles normally), or from experience (―By Hoggoth! Deep Ones are not repelled by a barrier of salt as the Scroll of Dagon claims!‖) where the lost points might come back when you next succeed at a Cthulhu Mythos roll. Only false Mythos tomes with a positive Cthulhu Mythos percentile rating cost sanity points, and very few if any have spells—most counterfeiters would only include a spell accidentally, and would often compound any errors in the spell with their own mistakes, or leave out crucial portions.

New Mythos Tome 9 Chants of Tsathoggua
Chants of Tsathoggua—in English, trans. "James Churchward", c.1898 (1919) Bound journal, supposedly Churchward's translation of an ancient Naacal tablet from Mu he discovered in Hawaii. Actually written by an unscrupulous clerk at an occult bookstore, using the hieroglyphics in the Golden Goblin edition of Nameless Cults as the source for much of his material. Sanity loss 1/1d2; Cthulhu Mythos +01 percentiles; average three weeks to read and comprehend. Spells: none.

New Mythos Tome 10 Necronomicon (False)
Necronomicon (False)—in English, trans. Jebediah Whateley, c.1917 Modern book bound in black leather with vellum pages in a heavy, gothic font. The introduction gives it as a copy of John Dee's translation, but in fact the book is entirely a work of fiction, based on a dictionary of freemasonry and a poor translation of the Book of Coming Forth by Day. Sanity loss 0; Cthulhu Mythos -03 percentiles; average eight weeks to read and comprehend. Spells: none.

New Mythos Tome 11 Second Book of Eibon
The Second Book of Eibon—in French, trans. Jean-Jaq de Yeovil, c.1666 This spellbook promises that it is a supplement to the original Book of Eibon, a ―lost work‖ of the Hyperborean wizard only recently discovered and translated. In fact, it is an ancient counterfeit, a false tome put together by an unscrupulous French sorcerer to seed among his rivals. Sanity loss 0/0; Cthulhu Mythos -05 percentiles; average twelve weeks to read and comprehend. Spells: Summon Formless Spawn of Zhothaqquah (Tsathoggua), Contact Deity Zothommoqqua (Zoth Ommog), Contact Deity Ghatanatoqqua (Ghatanothoa), Contact Deity Kthulla (Cthylla), Contact Deity Ythoqqua (Ythogtha) All spells contain carefully crafted errors that render the wizard who uses them open to psychic attack; upon casting the spell the wizard loses all Magic Points. Alternate Mechanics For Keepers leery of negative Cthulhu Mythos percentiles, another option is to give the readers of false Mythos books false Mythos percentiles—leading the character to believe that their Cthulhu Mythos rating is higher than it actually is, and the player character might actually fail a test they believed they passed. However, this method requires a bit more bookkeeping on the part of the Keeper.

Reference Works
Major Mythos tomes are, as any Keeper knows, rare, difficult to find, and hard to read. They tend to be in foreign, dead, or alien languages, and even the library copies extant are kept away from public view and under lock, key, and quite possibly some serious wards. Finding one is usually an adventure, and the threat to the character's sanity that comes with the cosmic revelations within means that the player characters should be wary and respect of the book and its power. The inherent difficulty of obtaining these prizes is part of their allure and mystique; keeping the books rare adds to their value and impact when the investigators do come across a copy in some cultist's library, or are finally (after having shown many proofs) been granted access to the copy of the Necronomicon at Harvard or Miskatonic. Rarity is also a problem, because the overuse of these tomes dampens their appeal. Experienced players may well be checking off their lists like pokemon, hoping to collect all the major tomes before the campaign is over. Campaigns set in the 1980s or later worry about the underground electronic dissemination of books, which has exploded in

recent years. When everybody can download the Book of Eibon or Google Translate Cultes de Goules, some of the fire goes out of the game. A possible solution to ―tome-fatigue‖ can be found in August Derleth: reference works. These are standard, scholarly papers, articles, documents, and books which are based on the more famous tomes, but which contain only a fraction of the actual lore—and that as glimpsed through the biases of the author and the context of their paper. Some examples from Mythos stories include:      An Investigation into Myth-Patterns of Latter-Day Primitives with Especial Reference to the R'lyeh Text by Prof. Laban Shrewsbury (August Derleth) Cthulhu in the Necronomicon by Prof. Laban Shrewsbury (August Derleth) Polynesian Mythology, with a Note on the Cthulhu Legend Cycle by Harold Hadley Copeland (Lin Carter) The Prehistoric Pacific in Light of the „Ponape Scripture‟ by Harold Hadley Copeland (Lin Carter) Study of the R'lyeh Text by Phillips (Randall D. Larson)

The idea here it to give players partial glimpses of what are available from the greater tomes, while preserving their awe and mystery. These books grant only a fraction of the Cthulhu Mythos percentile ratings (and cost on a fraction of the Sanity points), and generally contain few spells—but those spells they do contain would be immediately relevant to the content of the specialized reference work. Without access to the actual Necronomicon, characters could build up libraries of these reference works in an effort to replace it—a flawed exercise, just as fans today might collect excerpts and quotations from the Necronomicon in hopes of one day having a complete text (anyone fond of this, Dan Harms actually made a go at it in the back of The Encyclopedia Cthulhiana). Picking up major Mythos works piecemeal whets the investigator's appetites for the real thing, without unbalancing a campaign. In a modern setting, these reference works can be more readily available, so that the actual source materials remain obscure. No one in 1989 can download yhe Necronomicon, but with a little digging and the right contacts you might be able to find Cthulhu in the Necronomicon. Making Reference Works The following is an optional procedure for making a reference work based on a Cthulhu Mythos tome. This reference book may be introduced into your own campaign, or inserted into a published adventure in place of the major source book. Step 1. Pick A Major Source Choose a major Mythos tome, such as the Necronomicon or Book of Eibon. Ideally, this should be a book with +10% or more Cthulhu Mythos percentile rating Keeper Jackson needs a new Mythos tome for Masks of Nyarlathotep, because he doesn't want the player characters getting their hands on the complete Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan, but they still need some of the information and spells within. With that in mind, he

picks the Seven Cryptical Books as the major source tome. Step 2. Pick A Focus and Name Select a focus for the reference volume. It may be a specific Mythos deity or race, or a particular real-world geographic area, ethnic group, or subject such as art, literature, etc. Feel free to be as general or specific as you choose. The name of the volume should contain both the focus and the title of the source Mythos tome. The most important aspect of the Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan in Jackson's adventures are its details about the Order of the Bloated Woman, so Jackson decides that's his focus. With that in mind, Jackson decides the title of the reference work will be: The Bloated Woman in the Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan: An Historical Analysis. Step 3. Calculate Statistics Divide the Cthulhu Mythos percentile of the source book by 3, rounding down. Then, select up to 1/3 of the spells in the source book to be present in the reference work. For each 2 spells the tome contains, increase the Cthulhu Mythos percentile by 1. The sanity loss and average reading time for the tome should be determined by the following table: SanLoss 0/1 1/1d3 1d3/1d6 1d6/1d10 1d6/2d10 1d10/2d10 CM+% 0 1-3 4-6 7-9 10-12 13-16 Weeks 1d3 6 10 + 1d3 12 + 1d6 24 + 1d10 48 + 2d10

These are beginning statistics and may need to be tweeked by the Keeper. As a rule, the reference work can never have a Sanity Loss, Cthulhu Mythos percentile Bonus, or average duration of study equal to or greater than the source text. The Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan have Cthulhu Mythos +8 percentiles. Jackson divides this by three (8/3 = 2.66…) and rounds down (2). Looking over the spells, he decides the book will only contain the spells Contact Deity/Nyarlathotep and Door to Kadath, which raises the Cthulhu Mythos percentiles of the book to +3. Consulting the table he notes the book will have a sanity loss of 1/1d3 and require six weeks of reading to study and comprehend. Jackson's stats currently look like this: The Bloated Woman in the Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan: An Historical Analysis Sanity loss 1/1d3; Cthulhu Mythos rating +3 percentiles; average 6 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Contact Deity/Nyarlathotep, Door to Kadath

Step 4. Develop Backstory Time to fill in the gaps! Start with a brief description of the book's contents, then add an author, language, and date of publication. This is the fun step, so be creative! Remember that the author's perspective is important to the work; you might use a respected Mythos scholar from a short story, one of your NPCs, or something more clever and bizarre. Jackson brainstorms the details behind the reference work's contents and history. After an hour and a trip to wikipedia, he's satisfied with the results.

New Mythos Tome 12 The Bloated Woman in the 7 Cryptical Books of Hsan
The Bloated Woman in the Seven Cryptical Books of Hsan: An Historical Analysis—in English translated by Lafcadio Hearn (1903) This book was a translation of a scholarly Japanese text that Hearn discovered during his exploration of Japanese folklore. Considered too macabre even compared to some of his earlier publications, it only received a small print run at the University of Tokyo shortly before his death. It deals with the folklore of the Bloated Woman cult, as given in the forbidden scrolls of Hsan. Sanity loss 1/1d3; Cthulhu Mythos rating +3 percentiles; average 6 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Contact Deity/Nyarlathotep, Door to Kadath To represent an article, paper, or except based on one or more of these books, simply repeat the procedure. These tertiary texts rarely include spells, and those that do often contain flaws which limit their use or place extra requirements upon the wizard.

Oral Histories of Cthulhu
Writing was a profound and relatively late invention of the human species. The ability to record ideas, stories, and information in a durable form transformed human civilization and culture. Before writing, mankind relied on oral traditions—cycles of story, myth, and legend to pass on history, concepts, and ritual. Storytellers were the historians and newsmen of their day, and every child would become familiar with the stories and songs of their people as they grew up. As time went by, memories would fade, details would be changed and substituted, and the leys and songs generally change. To combat this degeneration, pre-writing cultures developed specialists to memorize and carry on the lore using mnemonic and poetic techniques. Some of these castes were destroyed by war or circumstance, the rest were replaced by the invention of writing. In the Cthulhu Mythos, the primary focus of Mythos lore is in books. By the time of Lovecraft's writing, oral traditions were in steep decline, and the medium of the pulp periodical and novel lent itself more to the concept of forbidden texts and mouldering scrolls. Books also lent themselves well to sharing; the same work (or versions with the same title) could appear in multiple stories by different authors. The long periods of time encompassed by the Mythos—tracking cultures that were dead before the first human being appeared—also lent themselves more to durable communications, as the entities

and events chronicled in tomes such as the Necronomicon were gone from most living memory. Not always, though. Oftentimes, Lovecraft used folk tales and verbal recollections (and revelations) to good effect, such as in The Shadow Over Innsmouth and The Picture in the House. Oral Traditions and the Mythos Oral traditions present an alternative to standard Mythos tomes in a campaign. Rather than tracking down an ancient tome in a dusty library, the investigators will have to hunt down an actual person who knows what they need, and convince them through word and action to share that knowledge with them. Oral traditions are especially appropriate for cults who recruit from the dregs or outskirts of society, who have limited literacy and education, but who may retain the folk tales and legends passed down from their grandparents. Surviving "primitive" cultures could potentially retain more complete and extensive cycles and songs of Cthulhu Mythos lore carried on from earlier days, but in the days of CoC most of those cultures are dying out. Mythos cults in the midst of such cultures may even contain fragments of oral histories from pre-human cultures and races. Using Leys In Call of Cthulhu, a complete cycle of stories in an oral tradition is considered a Mythos tome, and is known as a ley. Like with other tomes, leys are only truly understood after weeks of study, and may grant percentiles in the Occult or Cthulhu Mythos skills, along with knowledge of spells and rituals. Complete comprehension of a ley brings with a commensurate Sanity loss. The more complex the lore (and higher the Occult/Cthulhu Mythos percentile rating/Sanity loss), the longer the student must listen and study the stories as they are told to them. Likewise, oral traditions are best understood in their original language, and details are often lost or skewed in translation. ―Skimming‖ a ley is not generally possible, unless it has been recorded onto a wax cylinder, phonograph record, or some other medium; if this is the case then the standard rules for skimming apply. The individual reciting a ley has memorized the dangerous knowledge, and has both the attendant Cthulhu Mythos/Occult skill and Sanity loss. Memorizing a ley requires a complete study of the tome and a successful Artisan (Storytelling or Poetry) skill check. If the check fails the would-be storyteller must go through the entire ley again (no additional Sanity loss or Cthulhu Mythos percentiles, only time) and make another check; this process may continue until the character makes their check or gives up. A character that has memorized a ley may repeat it at any time, passing it on to other characters. Sample Leys

New Mythos Tome 13 Migrations of the Servants of the High-Priest
Migrations of the Servants of the High-Priest-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Named (Tcho-Tcho, c. 500 BC) This ley recalls the travels and migrations of the Tcho-Tcho people through southeast Asia, back to the mountains of Kunlun and the Himalayas to the mysterious and forbidden plateau of Leng. All true Tcho-Tcho are taught this song as children. Sanity

Loss 1d6/1d10; Cthulhu Mythos +5 percentiles, average 12 weeks to study and comprehend. No spells.

New Mythos Tome 14 Hymns of Leng
Hymns of Leng (English, 1913) Orientalist Marie Laurent's translation, which suffered greatly from both her imperfect mastery of the Tcho-Tcho tongue and her questioning of the historicity of the ley, confusing parts of it with historical origin myths of Japan and the ancient Khmer kingdom. Sanity Loss 1d2/1d4; Cthulhu Mythos +2 percentile, average 3 weeks to study and comprehend. No spells.

New Mythos Tome 15 Songs of the Kraken
Song of the Kraken (Greek, c. 1500 BC) This poem-cycle, parts of which are interspersed with incantations in an unknown tongue, is highly reminiscent of Homer's epic the Iliad, but contains fragments of elder lore that were preserved by the ancient mystery cults of Greece, and even today in the hinterlands a few lone shepherds maintain the remains of their father's strange beliefs, leaving unspeakable sacrifices at the old stone altars raised by no man when certain stars burn bright in the sky. Sanity loss 1d6/2d6; Cthulhu Mythos +8 percentiles, average 20 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Contact Byatis, Contact Ghoul

New Mythos Tome 16 Tales of the Horned Serpent
Tales of the Horned Serpent (Iroquois, 1760s) Reputedly based on a Nahuatl long-chant that in turn came from some other, more distant civilization, this long myth-cycle speaks of the mysteries of the Americas, and the old races that existed there before the coming of man, and the tribes that warred, worshiped, and dealt with them. A wandering shaman is said to have picked up the tales from the last of the mound-builder cultures of Mississippi and Georgia, collecting the tales of dying tribes so they would not be lost for all time. Sanity loss 1d6/2d6; Cthulhu Mythos +12 percentiles, average 45 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Command Animal (Bear, Catamount, Fish, Frog, Snake), Command Ghost, Contact Horned Serpent (Yig), Contact Water Brother (freshwater Deep Ones that live in the Great Lakes and Mississippi, may be extinct), Contact Water Sister (saltwater Deep Ones that live in the Pacific Ocean, such as Devil's Reef), Summon/Bind Child of Yig, Summon/Bind Servitor of the Outer Gods

Tomes of Power
Every book is unique. Even a mass-market paperback, through the years of handling and various owners, acquires a character of its own in terms of stains, scuffs, bookmarks and

scribbled notes in the margins. Mythos tomes tend to be more unusual and distinctive than others, simply because of their colorful history and eccentric readership. Still, at the end of the day a book, even a grimoire, is little more than a collection of bound paper: inert, lifeless, and impotent without a crazy wizard or susceptible mind nearby. Such is not always the case. Many times in fiction and media do we run across tomes of power—books which have a talismanic or magical property of their own, which bestow certain abilities on their owners, which may in their own way live or think, or at least be possessed of a certain anima. Often this is a result of the contents of the tome, or its means of manufacture; sometimes it is just the result of long ownership and association with a particular wizard or entity. In any event, these tomes do have some true magical potency, above and beyond any spell-lore they may contain. Using Tomes of Power in Your Game Keepers should probably keep a tome of power rare; the possession of one may be the focus of a scenario (such as Scenario: The Terrible Parchment) or even a chronicle. Their appearance and abilities work best when initially unsuspected by the investigators. Other than that, place them like any other Mythos tome—slipped into a likely library or other suitable locale, the book is as difficult to distinguish as one tree in a forest. Let the players discover the book's abilities and/or personality for themselves during the course of events—remember that if a book has a personality it has certain goals or directives it will follow, and these should serve to dictate what its actions may be. The exact powers of a given tome should be determined by the scale of the chronicle; a book that opens itself and summons Cthulhu the moment the investigators gaze on it is probably not appropriate for beginning investigators, whereas a book that stinks of rotting meat and attracts ghouls probably is. Below are a few sample Tomes of Power, for possible use in your games.

New Mythos Tome 17 The Corpse Cults
The Corpse-Cults—in English, translated by Edwin Powers Jr., 1776 A weighty leather-bound volume, similar in heft and thickness to a family bible of the period. Most of the work is taken up with a translation of the Comte d‘Erlette‘s Cultes des Goules, filled out otherwise with certain rare stories of cannibalism and vampirism from around the world, including the myth of the Iils of the South Pacific (in The Hodgson Mythos). This particular volume is in somewhat poor shape—it was buried with the author in his coffin, and various foul elements of decomposition have crept into the book, staining the pages and covers, giving it a terrible odor of decay. However, the bulk of it remains readable, and no other versions are known. Sanity loss 1d3/1d8, Cthulhu Mythos +8 percentiles; average 16 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Become the Dead (Consume Likeness), Join Unholy Feast (Contact Ghoul), Resurrection Power: The book has a supernatural attraction to ghouls, and any ghoul within a mile of the tome will be attracted to it, most likely coming at night to retrieve it. A sorcerer who knows this property of the tome may make use of it to enhance his power when casting

the spell Contact Ghoul; the spell only costs 2 Magic Points to cast when the book is in their possession.

New Mythos Tome 18 The Complete Necronomicon
The Complete Necronomicon—in English, Dr. Ambrose Tilden, 1942 This limited press edition combines within its rather plain green covers the bulk of professional scholarship on the Necronomicon in English, with some reference made to German and French studies. It takes the form of a nearly complete translation of the work in English—Tilden had apparently a copy of the Dee translation—with wide margins to allow for substantial annotations to the text, drawing heavily from sources such as Laban Shrewsbury‘s Cthulhu in the Necronomicon. The annotations and commentary note differences in various translations and elements of the text, pointing out—and in places attempting to reconstruct, with the aid of other sources—lost or incomplete sections. Regrettably, the paper shortage during the war made publishing the book problematic, and Tilden only managed to print and bind a single copy at his own personal expense before he died. Sanity loss 1d10/2d10; Cthulhu Mythos +17 percentiles, average 68 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Call/Dismiss Nyogtha, Call/Dismiss Yog-Sothoth, Contact Cthulhu, Contact Deep Ones, Contact Ghoul, Contact Nyarlathotep, Dominate, Dust of Suleiman, Elder Sign, Powder of Ibn-Ghazi, Summon/Bind Servitor of the Outer Gods, Voorish Sign Power: All of the spells from the Complete Necronomicon work perfectly if read aloud, by anyone regardless of education, training, or Cthulhu Mythos skill percentiles. The book provides the Magic Points to fuel the spell, but the sanity loss to the reader is doubled.

New Mythos Tome 19 Exorcisms of the Black Monk
The Exorcisms of the Black Monk -in abbr. Latin, Black Monk of Averoigne, c.1150 This small leatherbound manuscript booklet resembles a Medieval breviary, or abridged book of prayers and rites. It belonged, and was supposedly created by, the notorious Black Monk of Averoigne, who in the last half of the 12th century performed many unusual exorcisms against cases of nymphomania and unexpected pregnancy in the wooded villages of that backwards province. The Black Monk was notorious as a magician, and claimed that his booklet provided him protection against the devils he sought to exorcise. Local authorities disagreed, and after a particularly botched exorcism that led to the ruination of a set of 13-year old triplets, the death of their mother, and four prostitutes, the Black Monk was excommunicated and burned at the stake. His breviary was retained by the authorities, where it was rediscovered in the archives in the early 20th century. Sanity loss 1d2/1d4; Cthulhu Mythos +2 percentiles; 6 weeks to study and comprehend. Spells: Prinn‟s Crux Ansata, Summon/Bind Dark Young. Power: The breviary acts as Prinn‟s Crux Ansata when carried about their person; any

Magic Points spent by the user to combat Mythos creatures using this tome are doubled.

Contact Deity Variants
The Contact Deity spells are different than the vast majority of Mythos-based magic. Where the effects of some other rituals may not be immediately obvious or explained away as coincidence, the Contact Deity spells offer the investigators a direct connection with the major powers behind the Mythos, entities of obscure myth and terrifying reality. To help maintain the deities' mystique—and the occult aspects of Mythos spells— Keepers may consider the following alternatives to the standard Contact Deity spells. Aside from the cosmetic differences, each variant has an associated advantage and disadvantage. Oracle As the final alien syllables are formed on their lips, the character's mind opens like a flower. Their layers of psychic defense peel back to allow their mind's eye to gaze unfettered on the vast intellect of the deity. While in communion with the deity, the character acts as a medium or oracle, and other characters may pose questions to the character under the spell. Unfortunately, the scale of the entity's presence overfills the character's senses, and their answers often make little sense. Advantage: The character gains (POW x 5%) random language and knowledge skills determined by the Keeper for the duration of the spell. Disadvantage: The character babbles in every language they know, including any alien languages gained by the advantage of this spell. The character cannot communicate normally for the duration of the spell, and others will have to translate their cryptic answers. Cheval In casting this spell, the character empties their mind and spirit, letting the presence of the deity wash over them. In this state, the character is protected from the worst ravages of the entity's existence, but surrenders their physical body to their use. Cults often groom specific members to act as chevals for their gods. Advantage: The character suffers no loss of Sanity points from casting the spell. Disadvantage: The character cannot control their physical actions for the duration of the spell; the entity they have contacted moves in their stead. The entity cannot use magic directly, but may utilize existing tools and technology, or create new ones. Impression of Reality As the character intones the spell, reality twists around them, bringing them into contact with the deity. The wizard may find themselves floating in the vast void of space, orbiting the chaos at the center of all, or walking the non-Euclidian byways of a R'leyh above the waves. Advantage: The spell brings all within immediate vicinity of the wizard into contact with the deity. Disadvantage: The alien reality is a one-way trip, unless the character has additional magic or means to escape. Keepers may be kind and allow the characters to find their

way back from some exotic, though earthly locale or the Dreamlands. Metamorphosis The character chokes on the last word. The character enters a coughing fit which goes on for several minutes, and ends with the character retching blood and flesh. Over the next few hours, the character undergoes an unsubtle metamorphosis. The exact details depend on the deity and the individual, but the corrupt flesh is essentially an extension of the deity itself, and communicates in some way with the character. In time, the corrupt flesh will fall off and die. Advantage: The spell costs zero Magic Points to cast. Disadvantage: Sanity loss from the spell is double.

The Corruption Attribute
The Sanity mechanic in Call of Cthulhu is a measure of mental degradation; the sometimes slow and often rapid derangement of the mind and senses when exposed to things the human brain just wasn't designed to cope with. Sanity is a major theme in the Mythos stories, and madness a constant sword of Damocles dangling over the heads of the investigators. Entire plots and adventures can be built solely on the consequences and causes of sanity loss. Another theme Lovecraft and others were fond of is physical degradation; early hints of a body of transformative literature that began with early tales of disfigurement and eventually blossomed into the subgenre of body horror. Some of the most insidious and memorable Mythos entities and effects did not just mentally unhinge the people they met, but they left a more lasting mark on them as well. Physical deformities, mutations, cancers, supernumerary bits, wasting diseases, witch marks, and strange, slow descent from the human normal to something both supernal and subhuman, or perhaps inhuman. Keepers may choose to represent the physical dissolution and degeneration of the Mythos on characters with the Corruption mechanic; a complement to the already existing Sanity (SAN) attribute. All characters (except, at the Keeper's discretion, those with a non-human ancestry) begin with a Corruption (COR) score of 0. When the character is exposed to a source of Mythos corruption—knocked into a vat of Mi-Go chemicals, touching the slimy trail of a Shoggoth, bathed in the transformative light of Azathoth, etc.—the character makes a Corruption Gain roll. The player rolls 1d100. If the roll is at or above their current Corruption score, they succeed. If the roll is below their current Corruption score, then they fail. Corruption Gain rolls are shown as two numbers or rolls separated by a slash (example: 1/1d4+1). The number to the left of the slash is the amount of Corruption points gained if the Corruption roll succeeds; the die total to the right of the slash is the number of Corruption points lost if the Corruption roll fails. Thus, a successful roll means that the investigator gains a minimal amount of Corruption, and a failed Corruption roll always means that the investigator gains a few Corruption points. Eddy Fassbinder (COR 0) happens upon what he thinks is an illegal still, and

accidentally drinks concentrated Deep One adrenal gland extract. The Keeper tells him to make a 1/1d6 Corruption Roll. Eddy automatically succeeds, and only gains COR 1. The Keeper and Eddy's player discuss it and agree that Eddy now emits the slight odor of some sea creature. Corruption takes a toll on the character, and at higher ratings in this attribute, the character ceases to be really human. To reflect this, Corruption attribute has the following effects:  The character has a chance of being affected by the Elder Sign and similar wards as if they were a Mythos being. When a Character with a COR score encounters an Elder Sign, they must make a 0/1 Corruption Gain roll.  For every 5 points of Corruption, the character's Appearance attribute permanently drops by 1.  For every 5 points of Corruption, the character's maximum Sanity attribute permanently drops by 1, and they gain +1 percentile in the Cthulhu Mythos skill, as their terrible degeneration lends insight into the Mythos.  A character with a Corruption rating of 100 is no longer human, but a new Mythos being, and automatically becomes an NPC under the control of the Keeper. The Keeper and player are also encouraged to work together and determine what exact physical deformities or ailments are affecting the character, and how. What starts as small, unsightly blemishes on the inside of a character's wrists (COR 10) might in time turn into teribble abscesses (COR 20), and these fleshy pits may in turn eventually sprout mouths or eyes (COR 40), and then full-fledged tentacles (COR 80). At the Keeper's option, certain medical or magical treatments may be able to reduce a character's Corruption rating, at least for a time. Desperate characters have been known to take a hacksaw to particularly terrible growths.

The Investiture Skill
Magic, or the dark sciences so obscure and advanced that they may as well be magic, are a staple of the Mythos. Many a lone wizard or cult leader has distinguished themselves as an NPC with their use of magic, casting terrible spells while the investigators race to stop them. For all that though, magic troubles many Keepers. PC sorcerers are a tricky lot to deal with, and the doom of many a campaign. NPC wizards often serve as little more than ready sources of spells and magic items for mystically-inclined PCs, and without too much effort an entire adventure can be derailed and sidetracked because of a lucky bit of applied occult force. A possible solution to the Keeper is the Investiture skill. Not all the cultists in the Mythos become wizards by studying learned magic; others lead and effect dark wonders by forming a connection with a particular Mythos entity. Their bodies become impregnated with foreign radiations, invested with some of their substance in a black baptism, attuned to the dreams and desires of their chosen deity, and through force of will and personality can sometimes channel or direct that power to their own ends. The upshot

of this connection is that characters with the Investiture skill gain access to a limited ability to cast spells, without having to actually learn those spells (or be able to transmit that knowledge). NPCs with the Investiture skill can thus serve as a successful foil to PCs without inundating the campaign with magical knowledge. Investiture (10%) Characters may only gain this skill after making a personal connection with a major Mythos entity, such as Cthulhu, Hastur, Nyarlathotep, Azathoth, etc. Each major Mythos entity has their own Investiture skill: Investiture (Tsathoggua), Investiture (Ithaqua), etc. The character gains the ability to use the following abilities with a successful skill check:  Contact Deity—The character can attempt to contact the deity they are connected to. This requires no additional trappings or equipment, although the timing, environmental, and other factors mentioned in the spell description must be met. Normal Magic Point cost when cast.  Summon Servants—The character can attempt to Call and/or Bind a servitor race directly associated with their deity. For instance, a character with Investiture (Shub-Niggurath) could attempt to cast Summon/Bind Dark Young. This requires no additional trappings or equipment, although the timing, environmental, and other factors mentioned in the spell description must be met. Double Magic Point cost when cast.  Call Deity—The character can attempt to call their deity to them. The requirements are the same as for the spell, but the character with Investiture automatically expends all of their Magic Points casting the spell.  Dismiss Deity—A particularly powerful avatar of a Great Old One or Outer God may attempt to dismiss or banish their opposites—a character with Investiture (Cthulhu) could, for example, attempt to dismiss a manifestation of Hastur, but not his spawn Cthylla or a neutral entity such as Athlach-Nacha. The requirements are the same as for normally dismissing a deity, but the character with Investiture automatically expends all of their Magic Points in the attempt. These are abilities, and not spells like those that can be read in a Mythos tome. They cannot be taught to others, and each character with the Investiture skill must discover their own path to becoming one with their god. Investiture limits maximum Sanity in the exact same way as the Cthulhu Mythos score. If a character has both skills, only the higher one applies for determining the character's maximum sanity. If a character ever reaches Investiture 100%, they transform into an avatar of their chosen deity, their very essence and substance overwritten by the greater reality they have opened themselves up to.

Five New Occult Skills
Call of Cthulhu games tend to take place during periods of greater spiritual awareness in Western civilization, when the popular public turns their minds to the occult, the powers of mind and body, the oddities of religion, and the nascent possibilities of science with an enthusiasm and belief bordering on fanaticism. For the majority of seekers, the journey is ephemeral, the studies shallow, and the schools and mentors little more than misguided fools or crass shams looking to make a buck. For dedicated seekers emerge the potential of new disciplines, philosophies, and exercises that can transform their lives…if they

stick to it. Many of the people who lived in those periods when swamis were swarmed and gurus had groupies believed in the reality of occult skills and powers, and Keepers interested in a more fantastic campaign may make some of those unpredictable but potent gifts available to the investigators, or use them for non-player characters. For the most part, the only requirement to take these occult skills (beyond the Keeper's permission) is a suitable background or explanation for how the investigator discovered and developed their particular talent. Trips to India, Tibet, and the Orient are popular excuses, but there are many sources of mysticism in the world, and the investigator may even ascribe a Mythos encounter to awakening their latent abilities. Many of these skills require some additional work on the part of the Keeper and have the potential to unbalance a campaign if abused, and they are advised to think carefully before adding one or more of them to their campaign. At high levels, these skills lend themselves to a more cinematic and fantastic campaign, suitable as a challenge for more experienced investigators. I might suggest such skills be reserved for one-shot characters, or players dropping in for a solo game among a group of very experienced investigators; their unusual ability will help them keep their own with the rest of the player characters and NPCs. Summoning (05%) Most of the ritual involved with casting Summon/Bind spells is just that, ritual. The empty movements, meaningless words, and worthless implements are designed solely to disguise the true mechanism of the summoning, when the powerful intellect of the character shapes a thought that the secret mathematics of the universe responds to. Those who grasp this fundamental truth may do away with the tawdry requirements spoken of in ancient grimoires, calling up the forces of the Mythos at will. In effect, the character may cast any Summon/Bind spell they know using the Summoning skill rather than the Cthulhu Mythos skill. The character ignores the normal requirements of the spell for it to work, and if successful the entity or entities is summoned, but not bound. Every attempt at using this skill costs 1 Magic Point per 10 percentiles (or part thereof) in the Summoning Skill and 1d10 Sanity points. Aura Reading (05%) Time is but another dimension of space, and while most individuals do not perceive the part of themselves that extends into the future an the past, some adepts develop a glimmering awareness of time around them, often after heavy drug use. The effect is that the individual no longer sees just the present of a person or object, but how the light has fallen and will yet fall on it. With study and care, the adept may learn much from the study of the slight "auras" that surround all things, the shadows and halos they cast through time. The character may use the Aura Reading skill to attempt and discern information about the immediate future and past of individuals and places that they can view; the subject must be viewed in person, photographs and even video broadcasts are insufficient. If

successful, they can clearly catch a glimpse of the object or individual as they will exist in the next scene or did exist in the previous scene (generally, this is limited to the next or previous 24 hours). Failure can result in an inaccurate or muddled reading. Telepathy (05%) Some minds navigate as hunters in a thunderstorm on a moonless night, navigating by the sudden and occasional flashes of lightning that illuminate the dark and noisome world. So does the telepathic adept walk through daily life, with the occasional flash of insight as the thoughts of another are laid bare for them. No human adept knows the secret of directed telepathy, but with skill may tune their mind as a radio, becoming receptive to the thoughts around them. Some hold the dreaded Necronomicon holds the secret to unlocking this skill, while others believe the Theosophists and other prominent occultists teach it to their inmost circles. A character may use the Telepathy skill to try and open their mind to the thoughts of others within a dozen feet of their self—on a successful roll, the Keeper will inform them of what thoughts those around them are thinking, while on a failure nothing happens. Should a nonhuman character—or a human character who is casting a spell—be present when a telepath succeeds, they suffer the same sanity loss as seeing the nonhuman or casting the spell would cost. Mental Defense (05%) Many occult traditions hold of dangers that attack the unprepared mind, and school their initiates in techniques that will prepare them for the challenges they may face. The occultist skilled in Mental Defense has learned to treat their mind as an object, and to manipulate their thoughts in ways that beguile even Mythos entities. Unlike other occult skills, Mental Defense is always "on" unless the character chooses to "lower their defenses." When a Mythos entity, spell, alien artifact, etc. attempts to read or influence the character's mind (no, Sanity Checks don't count, but the Telepathy skill most certainly does), the Keeper rolls their Mental Defense skill. If successful, the character blocks the contact or effect from happening—the spell, skill, ability, device, etc. fails to read or influence the character's thoughts. If the roll fails, the character is affected as normal. This test is made before any other test to see if the character is affected by the spell, device, etc. Ectoplasmic Extrusion (05%) A popular subject matter for séances and spiritualists, ectoplasm is the matter of the deceased, the very stuff of spirits expressed in a viewable form. Such mediums as can manifest ectoplasm utilize it in many ways, but most commonly to manifest the dead. Scientists often scoff at these claims, and have been quick to discredit the physical mediums that are said to play with ectoplasm, but belief in their abilities endures. A character with this skill may, on a successful roll, generate ectoplasm. This costs the character 1 HP of damage, and typically, this manifests as a roiling, oily white smoke that pours from the medium's orifices, leaving behind a damp mark wherever it touches and a

faintly medicinal smell. The character may direct the ectoplasm somewhat, but in general it is strongly drawn to unusual energies, fields, and lines of force; almost invariably this means it is drawn to super-scientific machinery, powerful Mythos entities, and magic. The ectoplasm will drift toward the greatest concentration of such forces nearby at about one mile an hour. Ectoplasm usually remains for about ten minutes, less in areas of high wind, before dissipating. Failure at the roll means the character generates nothing more than a cough, flecked with blood (1 HP of damage). At the Keeper's discretion, ghosts and some disembodied Mythos entities may make ―use‖ of ectoplasm to present themselves in the physical world, although these forms are fragile (1 HP worth of damage causes them to dissipate utterly) and they are limited to using their spiritual or magical powers.

The Secret Language of Cats
One of the hallmarks of fantasy, even the weird, near-science fiction fantasy of H.P. Lovecraft, is to take a fanciful assumption and run with it. Once you assume that a certain thing is true, it becomes a game in itself to come up with reasons and explanations for how it works and interacts with other elements in the real world. A prominent example of this in Lovecraft's dream cycle is Randolph Carter‘s ability to speak the secret language of cats. From the simple step of assuming that cats do have a language, the purr and hiss take on greater meaning. If cats can speak, it denotes an intelligence and a culture that most people are not privy to. Keepers may, at their option, allow player characters to take the secret language of cats as a skill. This option is best for a more fanciful game, although it works perfectly well in other chronicles, where people who don‘t Speak Cat assuming that the investigator is either a very eccentric ailurophile or slightly touched in the head. In either case, there are a few things to keep in mind. Speak Cat (01%) The user knows the secret language of cats, and can attempt to communicate with anything remotely feline. The user needs Int x 5 points in Speak Cat to be clearly understood. Some ancient breeds and near-cats may still have difficulty understanding the user (-5% to -15% penalty). Non-speakers will only hear the user hiss, spit, purr, and meow softly. Each user must specify a source where they learned the secret language of cats from—they may be the descendant of a cult priest of Bast, a were-cat, injected with an experimental cat-serum, or perhaps they were taught the language by an old and wise feline as a child. Anything remotely reasonable is fine so long as it does not conflict with the rest of the character's background. Cats and the Mythos Cats have a wide representation in mythology and occult lore, from the belief that black cats are bad luck and the familiars of witches to the worship of cat-goddesses such as Bast in ancient Egypt. Cats are often seen as threshold creatures, their sharp senses making them appear to take not of things that are unseen to dull-witted humans. Because of this, cats can have a wide variety of roles in the Mythos. Lovecraft himself was a great ailurophile, and the majority of his cats in his stories are sensitive and intelligent beasts.

In most chronicles, cats are likely aware of the Mythos—they may not call things by names familiar to humans, or be aware of the greater connections and cosmic implications of all things, but cats can often sense the presence of otherworldly beasts, the undead (dead things moving), and aliens (smells bad/funny). Many cats can travel to the Dreamlands (and you wondered why the old tom sleeps half the day!), and some few can seek out and communicate with darker powers, swearing themselves to Nyarlathotep to act as a witch‘s familiar or perhaps guarding an ancient shrine to Bubastis. Beyond the common house-cat, investigators may run into other felines as well. Feral cats, including the predacious great cats—lions, tigers, jaguars, catamounts, lynx, etc.— who have their own societies and are much more wary of men, but who may spare someone that speaks the language of cats, if only for a moment or to perform some service (such as taking a message to another group of cats far away). Ancient cat-breeds may come up in time-travel tales, or be thrown into the future via suspended animation, gates, or some curious atavism or degeneration; these primal felines may go back to the saber-tooth tiger and other great predators that forever mark the fearful subconscious of mankind. And there are the fey and otherworldly cats, such as the ancient Cats of Ulthar, who have their own society and are more intelligent and powerful than the mundane kittens of this world. Talking to Cats Talking to cats should be more than just a roll of the dice. Characters with this ability should address felines in the narrative directly, perhaps even seek them out for whatever their insight is on the situation. Most normal cats will not be able to help much, but if an investigator addresses them politely in their own language they will probably say what they can about the situation. In this option, cats are essentially NPCs, and should be treated as such. Older, wiser, and stranger cats—including a few battle-scarred toms and feral cats—may have a few points in the Occult or Cthulhu Mythos skill to represent their encounters with lycanthropes, rat-things, ghouls, and such like. Those cats that act as familiars to wizards are much more likely to have these skills, and may even know a few spells. Few cats can use magic—they lack the right resources, not to mention opposable thumbs—but they may still be able to make good use of spells that do not require gestures or ritual set ups. In the Dreamlands there may even persist a tradition of cat-magic, with spells such as Attract Cats, Charm Cat, Command Cat, etc. A cat willing to teach spells or lore to investigators should be few and far between—either the cats of Ulthar in the Dreamlands or some vaguely cat-like entity, such as a sphinx. Odd Cat Ideas To finish off, some strange ideas about cats you can adopt for your chronicle:  Cats Are Aliens—In this scenario, cats are not native creatures to the earth, but come from somewhere else. This may be another planet, or another dimension, but the fact is that the cats are here on earth now…and they have access to technologies rivaling the Fungi from Yuggoth, hidden right under our noses! The

investigator that can speak cat may be the only one who has stumbled upon their conspiracy… Cats Can Travel Through Time—The plot of the young adult book Time Cat, cats naturally possess the ability to travel through time. The cats do this rarely, as too much time travel will attract the attention of their most dire enemies, the Hounds of Tindalos. The Great Race of Yith would be very interested in discerning the nature of this natural ability, should they discover it. Elder cats warn their kittens not to travel back too far, for the chronal energies can cause a cat to degenerate and devolve into a monster—a saber-tooth tiger from out of the distant past! Death is a Cat—Cats in mythology are often equated with witches, vampires, and succubi, and in truth cats do possess a strange affinity for death and the undead. Every so often, a rare cat is born to a litter with the ability to steal life (as the spell), or to hold the soul of a witch, vampire, or other entity. These cats, if they are intelligent, probably cooperate in exchange for the power that holding the entity's soul gives them. God is a Cat—Cats have been worshiped as gods in the past, and if cats do have a religion it would make sense that their gods would be cats too. Nyarlathotep, in his dealings with cats, likely has as an avatar a great black feline form (possibly, if the Keeper wishes to re-use some Displacer Beast illustrations, with great tentacles extending from his back), and the ancient Egyptian god Bast was made a Mythos entity in its own right by Robert Bloch. Investigators may run across these unusual expressions of the Mythos, and the cats that worship them—cats which are likely to have more ghoulish tastes than normal.

Contacts
Sometimes it's not what you know, it's who you know. Public libraries don't exist in a vacuum. There are academic connections between institutions, so that scholars can exchange correspondence and borrow volumes from a distant library for their researches—or, at least, photostatic copies. Antiquarians too, have their web of their connections, lists of buyers and sellers, catalogs of available and wanted books. The criminal underworld lives on disparate connections, word of mouth, and under-the-table deals for obscure items. Contacts is a new skill which covers the character's web of contacts in a certain arena, and their ability to acquire rare or useful items. Much like the Credit Rating skill, it also measures to an extent the character‘s reputation and social currency—favors owed, academic reputation, political influence, etc. The Contacts skill is usually applied via correspondence, and as such it may take days, weeks, or months of ―in game‖ time to see the results of a single roll. Contacts (10%) The Contacts roll measures the character's personal web of contacts in a particular area, and their reputation among those people, their ability to get the things they want. It is primarily used to acquire assistance, in the form of political favors, specialized information, and sometimes extra firepower; or difficult-to-obtain items, from illegal liquor and firearms to photostatic copies of pages of Mythos volumes from major libraries. There are Contact skills for Academia, Booksellers, the Military, Politics, and

the Underworld; the character must have an appropriate background to explain these contacts and it must be approved by the Keeper. A character may roll each Contacts skill they have once during a scenario, provided they have a means (telephone, post office, etc.) and time to get in touch with people. Success means that they have acquired some form of the desired assistance or located the desired item; though the character may still have to pay for them (requiring a successful Credit Rating roll). Obtaining Mythos Books using Contacts Properly used, the Contacts skill can be used by an investigator to acquire some Mythos tomes. A professor or librarian character could, for example, request to borrow the Necronomicon kept in Miskatonic University using Contacts (Academia), or find a copy of the Golden Goblin Press edition of Nameless Cults available for sale via Contacts (Booksellers). The success of any such attempt, or the condition or completeness of the volume, is up to the Keeper. Miskatonic University does not just lend out the Necronomicon, but may allow for photostatic copy of select portions—provided the character is familiar with the contents (a successful Cthulhu Mythos roll), they might request a copy of a specific spell necessary to complete an adventure, and a willing librarian may do so. As a rule of thumb, investigators looking for a particularly rare and hard-to-find item— such as a Mythos tome, but also, say, a field artillery piece—may require a series of Contact rolls over several scenarios, as part of a campaign. The discover and delivery of the item then becomes a sort of mini-climax, as the character's diligence and dedication pays off. To emulate this, every roll after the first to look for the same item using the same skill gets a cumulative 5% bonus. The rarer the item, the more difficult it will be to find and obtain (-5 to -25% modifier); unique items will be impossible to place, and would require a dedicated scenario to obtain. Charles Stromm is in dire need of a copy of The Book of Eibon, for the adventures facing him and his friends appears to be leading them toward a direct confrontation with Tsathoggua! Stomm has Contacts (Booksellers) 45%, and sends out a request for the volume. The Keeper judges the book is rare (-15%), and so his initial letters and calls show no success, but in a subsequent adventure he tries again (+5%) and again (+10%), and again (+15%), until one of his contacts reports back to him that a French version of the Livre d'Ivonis is for sale! At this point, Stromm could continue trying for a specific edition, or he could rolls his Credit Rating and attempt to purchase the volume.

Putting It All Together
The various materials lumped together in this polygraph were not initially designed to go together, in spite of the fact that many separate entries have carry similar themes and can probably work together with little effort on the part of the Keeper. What I had hoped to accomplish with the individual threads that make up this document was to provoke thought and creativity in players and Keepers, to illustrate by example the possibilities

that exist for fresh ideas and approaches in their games, even as they stay true to the source material that we all draw upon: the Cthulhu Mythos. So as we finish up this document, I'd like to present my Three Rules of Keeping: Rule 1: Know Your Material H.P. Lovecraft is dead, and so are many of the other seminal Mythos authors, their contemporaries and inspiration. The works of H.P. Lovecraft, Arthur Machen, Lord Dunsany, William Hope Hodgson, and Clark Ashton Smith, among others, are relatively easy to find online, at Project Gutenberg and other archives. Familiarity with the setting is vital to any Keeper, to maintain conscious of both the standard facts and to remain flexible in the face of changing circumstances. Confidence is one of the cornerstones of storytelling, and a Keeper that believes in their own knowledge of the material will be able to project that confidence when behind the screen, and make the session better and more convincing to the players. Even the tiniest detail of a Mythos or related story can be enough for a scenario, and scenarios can be chained together to make a successful campaign. Rule 2: Do Your Research A number of my entries tie in real-world information that lends a degree of authenticity and background that would be difficult if not impossible for me to have come up with on my own. Most of these require only cursory research, painting in broad strokes and the occasional detail to lend credence and depth to an item. The research is basic: a few key searches in Google books or Wikipedia are sufficient to catch the gist of a subject, the creative part of the exercise is finding a way to tie it into the Mythos. Players appreciate these sort of tie-ins and many will respond in kind, making characters that fit better into the setting and retaining their suspension of disbelief longer during the game. Rule 3: Remember Motivations My personal philosophy of gamemastering is to allow the players the greatest freedom as possible, to encourage everyone to participate in the game, and above all to keep things fun and interesting. If a Keeper tries to force players to perform a certain set of actions, the players will rebel, or worse surrender. To keep players active and in the game, the game needs to be about the players, their decisions, their actions. The Keeper's job is to provide the player characters with their motivation, to work at keeping that motivation high throughout the game. More than that, motivation is the key to non-player characters as well. While it is sometimes difficult to ascribe motivations to Mythos entities or the more insane cultists, the NPCs need to have definable goals, or failing that definable character traits that guide their actions. The NPCs should pursue their own goals, and be forced to deal with the PCs; the PCs should be made aware that they are part of something larger, a world that does not revolve around them, but of which they are a part and which they can affect through their actions. A tiny murder in the night can have far-reaching effects, and the Keeper should be willing and able to pursue the consequences. I hope that makes sense. Thanks for reading. - BD

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