And at the last from Inner Egypt cameThe strange dark one to whom the fellahs bowedSilent and lean and cryptically proudAnd wrapped in fabrics red as sunset flame.Throngs pressed around, frantic for his commands,But leaving, could not tell what they had heard;While through the nations spread the awestruck wordThat wild beasts followed him and licked his hands.
Soon from the seas a noxious birth began
Forgotten lands with weedy spires of goldThe ground was cleft, and mad auroras rolledDown on the quaking citadels of man.Then, crushing what he chanced to mould in playThe idiot Chaos blew Earth's dust away.
Out in the mindless void the dæmon bore me,Past the bright clusters of dimensioned space,Till neither time nor matter spread before me,
But only Chaos, without form or place.Here the vast Lord of All in darkness muttered
Things he had dreamed but could not understandWhile near him shapeless bat-things flopped and flutteredIn idiot vortices that ray-streams fanned.
These danced insanely to the high, thin whiningOf a cracked flute clutched in a monstrous paw,Whence flow the aimless waves whose chance combiningGive each frail cosmos its eternal law."I am His Messenger," the dæmon said,As in contempt he struck his Master's head.
H.P. Lovecraft, "Nyarlathotep" and "Azathoth" from Fungi from Yuggoth.
Continuing a vague theme from the previous, in the spirit of general recklessness I've just stuck on Scribd a "Ritual to call forth Him in the Gulf" that I wrote about five years back and left sitting on my hard drive since I was too lazy to ever go out and do it.
The first two pages in a bad pastiche of 16th-century English comprise "flavour text" intended to connect this with the "Rite to call Yog-Sothoth" I wrote some years prior and have very little to do with the ritual itself. The "Prayer to Lord Iok-Sothoth" (a pastiche of the Pater Noster by Richard Tierney IIRC which appeared in the Chaosium Book of Eibon compilation) is omitted for copyright reasons.
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