The Carrion Crown

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 24

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 24

I clearly see now that I have stumbled on the crossfire of an Old God skirmish, which I find infinitely fascinating. Within the town’s temple, I fought and slew what I believe to have been an Elder God’s “Guardian”, which I believe came directly out of a separate dimension to do combat. Rightfully, it was protecting it’s temple, and I was the intruder, but of the practices that were occurring, I could not have done less than intrude. These Gods of Mythos are completely fascinating, and their books have such lovely voices, I find myself greatly torn in that their practices are at the very most, barbaric. In one room I found a number of corpses for whose heads have torn from their bodies, the next a bloodied alter and depictions of fish and men interbreeding. The pictures, of note, depicted great detail for coupling that I was previously unaware was possible, though I have witnessed the offspring. In the last room, I located two farmers who had bequeathed their daughter to the care of the Neighbors, for whom I have deducted are in fact Deep Ones, of the mythos origin. Following a brilliant hunch I had concocted, I inquired as to the whereabouts of the priest who had taken their daughter, or the daughter of the Deep Ones, as she was bequeathed, though not the daughter of inter-species relations… though assumably adopted FOR the purposes of said relations. As suspected, the farmers had stated that the rider had went with, carrying the Effigy with.

As I exited, the kind Sheriff must have come to reason in regards to myself, as he stopped me only briefly enough to be instructed to clean out the bodies within the Temple. I was able to gather my carriage and ride the short distance to an old, abandoned house off of the village. Therein, one of the a fore mentioned offspring of what I believe to be a Deep One and a Cave Troll remained in waiting. It did not seem to have much intelligence, and nor did it harbor a resistance to my fires, so I put her down. We also located the head priest, who also saw reason in being civil; for backwater people, I am quite surprised at their sensibilities over the larger-town folk we have dealt with in the past. I offered to act as liaison for him and his village in return for the secret to passage, and he accepted.

It turned out I was fortunate to have killed the creature that I had, as its blood became part of the ritual for opening the set of stones located within the house. At first, I had thought I was again transported to an alternate dimension, but I suspect that it may be well within our realm, though further underground only. It took no time at all to meet a group of Deep Ones, whose leader obviously had gone insane. He showed classic symptoms of the head-ripping creature I have encountered many times, that of the Old God Hester. The Deep Ones lashed out at me only under obligation and without passion, so I left them alone and focused on the leader, who died, popped his head off (or the creature within did so), and died again… more permanently. From this corpse I acquired the Effigy, and from the Deep Ones I gathered the knowledge that the rider was still in these depths, and that the Raven’s Tongue resided with the main leader of the Deep Ones, who has also been exhibiting signs of Hester’s influence. Again, the sensibilities of these Deep Ones astounds me; To date I have rationed with Demonic Werewolves, Deep Ones, Flesh Golems, Teiflings, Gypsies, Necromancers, and all sorts, and I do say that the worst archetypes to be able to trust has consistantly been politicians and the Necromancers. If the Necromancers were not kin to clockwork in their betrayals, they may prove more devious than the politicians.

Down the halls, there was an amazing sight, one so very rare and so very perfect that I would risk anything but my life to be able to control; A true Color Out of Space lingered, attached somehow to a machine that regulated it and kept it tethered. If only I knew of a way to reason with it too, I would have… but alas, they are immensely intelligent and known for feeding upon the likes of me. I left it tethered in that room, but was able to spot the carcass of the rider behind him, which says to my luck that I am no longer in chase.

A brief thought stated that the world will always be in peril as long as these Deep Ones hold the Raven’s Tongue, in that they may not know of the value it holds to the Whispering Way. I conclude that it is better that I take the mace and destroy it, hopefully ending the ability to see the ritual intended to fruition. I will set out anew after this short break to attempt to reason further with the one holding the mace, as they have proven to be quite rational so far.



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