Masks of Nyarlathotep

Off to Oz

One of Johnstone Kenyatta’s men came to Boyovu village and told them some unsavory characters were asking about them. Johnstone offered to help them escape Kenya, they decided to go to Australia. Kenyatta smuggled them to Zanzibar where they hopped a steamer to Aden then to Perth.

In Aden Sean wired Professor Cowles at Arkham and told him some about related cults in Africa and they wanted to explore his leads to the sand bat cult in Australia, please wire them in Perth. The missionary who joined them was fascinated by some of the tomes they had and started learning spells on the 3 week journey.

Arriving Perth there was a telegram from Cowles telling them they could see the journal of Arthur McWhirr that he had left in his home in Sydney. See his friend Dr. David Dodge who was watching his house. Also a Professor Boyles in Perth might help as an expert in native customs. They hopped a ship to Sydney via Melbourne, met Dr. Dodge and got McWhirr’s diary which outlined monster attacks in the Great Sandy Desert and ancient stones he found. Dodge insisted on coming with them so he could write the academic paper. Researching at museums and libraries in Sydney Helen found evidence of long worship of this sand bat god which seemed yet another of the 1000 faces of Nyarlathotep as well as references to an ancient buried city.

Dodge told them Arthur had wired that the diary had come from McWhirr’s attorney Robert Mackenzie of Port Hedland and that was where to port to head inland to Cuncudgerie, the mining camp where the McWhirr expedition had launched it’s expedition.

First to Darwin to check out the Randolph shipping company, another steamship ride. There they gathered rumors of the cult activity in the desert, including that it was led by a white man. Randolph Shipping Company was run by a belligerent drunkard named Toddy Randlolph. While talking to him about an employee whom they had heard might know something about the sleeping god in the desert, Gavin noticed a crate to the Penhew Foundation in London marked with an odd symbol. “Accidentally” knocking it off the stack it broke open to reveal a 3 foot statue of Cthulhu. Toddy threw them out with a loud string of cursing.

Breaking in later they found records of shipments marked with the same symbol to a Mortimer Wycroft in Cundudgerie, as well as to Penhew in London and Fong Shipments in Shanghai. The listing for the crate they had broken listed TWO crates bound for Penhew. They searched and found the other, broke it open to find a strange device of rods, wheels, and mirrors and a note stating it was “:a short term survey device employed by the Yithians”.

They took the device, Gavin fiddled until he activated it. Gavin looked in the eyepiece and immediately slumped into a coma. That looked like fun so Father Mike decide to do the same, but Sean shut off the device. Father Mike could not restart it.

Gavin stayed in the coma, though strange things happened and eventually it seemed he was sleep walking when nobody was looking. Eventually the unconscious Gavin disappeared. Mike and Helen and David Dodge left for Port Hedland, Sean stayed looking for Gavin. Eventually he found Gavin reading a magazine at a coffee shop. Gavin would not talk to Sean and walked away. Sean followed, Gavin stopped and stared at him clearly indicating to leave him alone. Gavin crossed the street not looking for traffic. Sean followed. Gavin stopped and turned, Sean stopped then saw the truck coming, Gavin had stopped precisely where the truck would miss Gavin and hit Sean. Sean dove away but was clipped by the truck and knocked unconscious. Sean spent two weeks in the hospital. When he got out he started looking for Gavin again. Just as he was about to give up Gavin showed up, quite frazzled. He remembered nothing of the past four weeks but was strangely disturbed.

They headed for Port Hedland.


As we begin our exploration of the vast land of Australia, our new companion has been able to translate some of the tomes we have been carrying around. I’ve noticed some insightful passages.

“a rite designed to shield a caster via an enchanted fog from the servants of ‘the Thousand-Faced God of Madness, known as Burning Eye of Darkness and master of the Shining Gem of Iuggotum.’”

Such a rite could prove most useful as we attempt to stop this Thousand-Face God of Madness. I’ve also noticed a reference to the “Faceless God” and calling firth “That Which is Born In and is Lord of Darkness.” Could this be the Thousand-Face God as well?

There is also reference to locating some of these gods by noticing certain natural features such as “the moss of Uophan for it grows where he walks…”

Finally, I remember Sean mentioning something about a god visiting his former companion in his dreams. One of the tomes talks about a rite to contact “the Dreaming God." It also indicates that this is a very dangerous thing to consider.

We also have a name for another of the conspirators; Mortimer Wycroft or Cundudgerie. That device was bound for him…I still do now know what happened for those weeks. I was not concious or I don’t remember a thing, but I’m told I was quite active. A “short term survey device” is what the shipping manifest called it. Perhaps my self was pushed in to the far reaches of my subconscious and another person or thing took its place? It’s not an experience I wish to repeat.

Now we head to Port Hedland. We need to locate Robert Mackenzie and make our way inland to Cundudgerie and hopefully find Mortimer Wycroft before he finds us.

Off to Oz

Minor correction: The statue of the tentacled god and the device of rods and mirrors were bound for London, Penhew Foundation. Mortimer Wycroft, Cuncudgerie, is simply a name with several shipments to/from marked with the same symbol that was on the boxes to the Penhew.

Off to Oz

Ex Libre Pater Sullivani,

A lot of the seminarians I ran into along the way were there because it was expected of them. To listen to some of them they had been chosen at birth. Not this Irishman, oh no, no, no. My calling came at night like it did for Samuel. I literally heard Him calling me in the middle of the night. Three or four times I came out of the barracks asking who had called me and I got quite a bit of ribbing about it, I did. But an old priest set me straight. He told me, next time I heard the call I was supposed to say, “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will.”

The rest, as they say is history, 6 years in school and the seminary and then a brief apprenticeship at St. Pat’s in New York before they sent me out to Africa to bring in the sheep. And I tried, yes I did. I tried to liberate the poor souls from all that witchcraft and malarky I found them floundering in. And the next thing you know I am almost a martyr I am. Dragged off by cultists in the night and into that cave with all those other poor people.

I figured I was going to die for my faith and for the guy who called me without ever accomplishing anything and more than likely it such an obscure manner that nobody would ever know what had become of me. I was wondering about that I was but I was trying to hold my tounge about it too. Didn’t want to be like the day at Marriba, in Massa, in the desert, where they tempted Him by wondering aloud why He would lead them out of Egypt to die in the desert. It was kinda the same thing, don’t you see? He called me, He led me through school and the seminary, He led me to Africa and it looked like He was going to let me die there alone and in the dark. But I wasn’t going to get into that with Him, no I wasn’t. I wanted to see the Promised Land – whatever the Promised Land was in this case. And, sure enough, these strange people came along and let me loose. Then they showed me that the evil I had expected to find to be some hollow mumbo jumbo thing turned out to be all too real and all to horrible – as we were chased through the nights by creatures that defy description – all as a result of this group of unlikely characters having really angered some head devil of some kind.

Not only that, over the next few weeks they drop these old books and scrolls in my lap to look at and I find that with my training in classical Greek and Latin and my own abilities with Olde Englash I am able to discern texts that talk of times before time and ancient evils and magics that seem all the more real to me having experienced at least the tip of the iceberg (so to speak) in my own flight from the Mountain of the Dark Wind and augmented by the stories these strangers tell of following a trail all the way from New York City to London to Egypt, Africa and now, Australia.

That last part comes as a kind of shock to me. I have been so engrosed in trying to absorb the tales my new companions have presented me with, along with the hard and all consuming work on the tomes, and keeping up with my brevery that it almost seemed to me that I had gone to sleep in Africa and then woke up here in Australia. I have been vaugely aware of some problems along the way including a long stretch when the newspaper man, Gavin, seemed to be in some kind of coma or something. And I now find myself on the way to Port Hedland with this young woman Helen and some Australian named David Dodge – a doctor of some kind.

Even now, I do not seem to be able to have any kind of conversation without later finding myself back with the books or taking notes on what Helen has been able to find in her studies at one of the local college libraries. Honestly, it seems to me that one moment I am talking to one of my companions and the next moment in some dark room with one of the books or going over something Helen has said about a thousand faced, evil demon called Nyarlathotep. Or about long worship here in Australia of some kind of “Sand Bat” demon as well as references to an ancient buried city out in the desert.

The thing that bothers me the most is what I have uncovered in the tomes they gave me to read. They contain explicit directions for specific ceremonies that will lead to various interactions with demons or ancient creatures. Now, normally, I would blow all of this off as so much superstitious nonsense or turn my back on it because it represents something that is antithema to the One who called me. But my experience in the mountains on my way here combined with the detailed and heartfelt characteristics of the stories conveyed to me by Ms. Helen, Gavin and Mr. O’Malley have me convinced that there might very well be some real effects generated by using these …. well, I guess you would have to call them “spells”.

This has led me to really see if I can work out the details of what to say and what to do to complete some of them. Of course, I am not going to try to do that for any of the spells that are meant to call forth evil creatures but there are a couple of them that might be worth trying as they sound quite possibly helpful. For instance one that is called, “Deflect Harm”. This apparently involves the use of an “enchanted knife” and, lo and behold, I found a spell that is used to enchant a knife.

I am sorry. I digress from my main thought here. That thought is that my callling may very well be to be an instrument used to stop or, at least, blunt the effects the world has to endure by the unleashing of these ancient evils. I think that my teachers back in the seminary and at the college would agree that my path has taken me directly to this point in time and space where my talents may be important to seeing that God’s work is done in a hitherto unknown and unknowable sphere of this world we live in.

Will keep this diary up as best I can. I now find myself in Port Hedland with a daggar I intend to enchant. More later….//Mike

Off to Oz

Sean’s notes
All that time I spent in the snarled streets of New York and not a scratch. I come to Australia of all places, and get hit by a damn truck, for god’s sake!!!
And why did that happen you might ask James?? Because Gavin decided to do something totally unprofessional. He looked in the eye piece of an artifact that was being shipped to the Penhew Foundation. Gawd, you never would have done anything so stupid!!! (Oh wait, you were the one who shot your weapon at a god…..and then got your head bit off.) anyway, he looked in the eye piece and fell into a coma – for 4 weeks! But the worst part was, he just got up and walked away when no one was looking. Gone! Poof! No clues, nothing! I searched for 2 weeks before I found him. And then the truck found me. Landed me right in the hospital. Damn.
Tex, this is so much more than anything we ever bargained for. Our times in New York look like pre-school compared to what we’ve got going on right now. What we’ve seen, What we’ve done! I’m not proud of it. But then again Helen, I am. The information we’ve been able to gather will help in the end.
The end – now there’s a statement for you. When will this end. The outback of this stupid country? That Brady fello seems so unimportant right about now. He’s safe, a thousand miles away.

Off to Oz

Helen’s thoughts:

As I look back on the events of that evil mountian and finding all 50 or more poor people in the cage, swinging above the ground just waiting to be sacrafices. How we ever thought we could take the chance to free them and not condemn ourseves to certain death by exposing our position is so beyong me!!! I’m still in shock but as fate would have it from those to be sacraficed and now saved came Fr. Mike Sullivan a Catholic priest. As we ran for our lives and fought the winged beasts all night Fr. Mike emerged and lived as did we. And now we are traveling and studing toegther as we follow the trail of death and danger. Some of the books and scrolls we have been lugging around written in latin and greek Fr. Mike can help us with. Not only for information’s sake but there are some helpful scrolls he may be able to helpus fight back with. I didn’t think Gavin would ever come back to us it seemed so hopeless after he fell into acoma. That month of hiding and trying to find Gavin seemed longer than 10 years but only a month passed.
We were smuggled out of Kenya and off to Austraila by way of steamer. And now in Perth following the diary to who know where it will lead us. Having a priest near by is a big comfort. More later I need somesleep.

Off to Oz

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.