by Rachel Gray
Carter and his ghoul companions tiptoed through the city, dodging the occasional gug sentry, and lurking ghast. They headed into the Tower of Koth, up the stairway inside . . .
. . . and out into the Enchanted Wood beyond.
That’s right, Carter was back where he started, and back to the literary tropes.
CAT FIGHT!
As Carter traipsed yet again through the delightful Enchanted Wood, he heard the zoogs whispering feverishly about retaliation plans against the cats, due to the now infamous black-kitten-zoog-eating incident. Apparently, the zoogs were planning a stealthy counter-strike upon Carter’s feline friends of Ulthar, and hadn’t realized that in order to be stealthy, maybe they should stop whispering about their plans so loudly.
MYTHOS SURVIVAL TIP:
SURVIVING A NIGHT-GAUNT KIDNAPPING
Night-gaunts are large, black, slippery creatures with wings, claws, horns, and a long tail. And they are intimidating to gaze upon. If you find yourself in the clutches of a night-gaunt, try not to struggle. If you do, they will tickle you incessantly.
The best defense against a night-gaunt is to stay away from the areas guarded by night-gaunts, such as Ngranek. If that’s not possible, or if you encounter a night-gaunt somewhere other than the great mountain, you’ll fare best if you happen to not be ticklish (layering garments may offer additional defense). If you are ticklish, well, a GPS or other navigation device may help for when you are inevitably dropped in the vale of Pnoth (sorry, cats are of no help this time, except perhaps for company).
If you ever manage to learn the ghoul language, it’s helpful when dealing with night-gaunts. Although Carter didn’t know it yet, night-gaunts work extensively with the ghouls, and respond to commands in their language.
This means it might be worth having a friend or two who is a ghoul.
Carter, loyal to the cats, decided a little kit for kat would be in his best interest. He sent a message to the cats by cat-telegram (the cats traveled from one to the next relaying messages all the way back to Ulthar). Soon the Cat Army arrived, unleashing some serious hurt on the entirely unprepared zoogs.
After teaching the zoogs who’s the boss, the cats settled down with them and negotiated peace terms. This mainly consisted of the promise of no more cat-disappearances on the border to zoog territory. As a guarantee, a few zoog nobles would be kept as hostages in Ulthar, and lastly, the zoogs had to pay a poultry fee to the cats—that is, provide poultry for free. While things went swimmingly well for the cats, Carter didn’t fare as well. Since he was clearly involved in the entire escapade, his treaty with the zoog was revoked. And there would be no more moon-wine doled out to him.
ON TO CELEPHAÏS
Once this entire cat-zoog-human political mess was behind him, Carter traveled to the city of Thran. There he booked passage on a galleon traveling to Celephaïs. During the journey, he inquired about the sailors he’d seen in Celephaïs, the ones who resembled the gods. From his inquiries, he discovered the sailors hailed from Inquanok, a land well known for its impressive onyx mines. So as to avoid capture yet again, Carter decided after Celephaïs, he’d make straight for Inquanok, but in disguise—pretending to be an old onyx miner. After making port in Celephaïs, Carter consulted the city’s high priest, hoping for some tips on locating Kadath. Regrettably, the priest simply reiterated a common theme: stop looking for the gods and go home. The gods didn’t want to be found.
Not content with the priest’s answer, Carter decided to visit his old friend, King Kuranes (Carter was well connected if anything). It turns out Kuranes and Carter were friends in the “real” world, before Kuranes dreamed his sorry self out of existence. And because the king had grown quite homesick for his native Cornwall, he’d dreamed up some pastoral English countryside outside of town, spending all his time there.
Carter spoke with Kuranes about finding Kadath, to which Kuranes responded: Stop looking for the gods and go home. The gods don’t want to be found. But this time, the king was speaking from experience. Once upon a time, Kuranes, quested for a magical city. Yes, it was the great city of Celephaïs. And now he was trapped in the Dreamlands—king or not.
AND TO INQUANOK
Of course, Carter ignored all of the advice. He ventured to Inquanok, using his ingenious old onyx miner disguise. On several occasions during his travels, he noticed a shifty merchant. The man was apparently traveling in the same direction as Carter. And rumors abounded about the merchant trading with the people from the dreaded Plateau of Leng. Carter made a mental note of this.
Upon arriving at Inquanok, Carter marched farther inland, using a variety of paltry excuses about finding the ultimate onyx-mining experience. Once he was out of sight, or so he thought, he rented a yak and headed northward. It didn’t take long for the strange merchant to quickly catch up and kidnap Carter.
So, for the third time during his trip, Carter had been captured. And once again, it appeared he’d find his way to Nyarlathotep. The sneaky merchant had decided to summon an elephant-sized, winged creature known as a shantak-bird. It was this creature’s task to deliver Carter to a monastery, located upon the Plateau of Leng. Once there, the wily writer was brought before a strange priest wearing a silken robe and mask. The priest, known as the “High Priest Not to Be Described,” was . . . well, the name says it all.
Things seemed at an end for Carter—until we take into account that the shifty merchant wasn’t too bright. He’d also come along for the trip, and as he led Carter toward the priest, he was momentarily distracted. Being quite familiar with this literary trope—having used it a few times in his writing—Carter took advantage of the moment and pushed the merchant into a well. Without delay, the stalwart writer fled. He hurriedly stumbled through the monastery’s labyrinthine corridors, and eventually escaped. Or mostly escaped. Once free of the confusing maze, he found himself in the ancient city of Sarkomand.
WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU
GO ON A DREAM-QUEST
You’ve likely noticed a common theme in the Dreamlands. There are some pretty fabulous cities. Often, these cities compel dreamers to do some pretty stupid things, attempting to find them. While upon a city-quest, please remember:
When searching for information about lost cities, don’t blabber around town about your quest. This will surely get you into trouble if the city is not supposed to be found.
Be careful not to spend too much time in the Dreamlands, hunting for your city (unless you want to end up a permanent resident like good old King Kuranes).
Make plenty of friends in the Dreamlands! Cats, ghouls, even zoogs. A well-placed ally will help you when you inevitably get captured or kidnapped.
Some people like epic quests, such as looking for lost gods. If you are such a person, carefully reconsider the matter. Gods, lost or hiding, along with someone looking for them, is most likely a formula for disaster.
Learn the local languages. Sure, speaking ghoul is handy, but knowing how to chat with cats and carouse with zoogs is equally useful, if not more so. And while you’re at it, learn a few of the languages of the local sailors. This makes plotting behind your back much more difficult.
Bring booze. All right, it can’t be carried directly from the waking world, but once you’re in the Dreamlands, start loading up on the alcoholic beverages. Drink is a universal lubricant in worlds of fantasy. Never be caught without something to offer an unexpected guest or kidnapper.
Remember that not everyone is affected by alcohol the same way. What gets a priest drunk in one town might have no affect on a sailor in the next town. Size up the target, ask a few questions about their preferred drink, and then select your poison.
Go easy on the booze. If someone offers you a drink, most likely it’s because he or she is attempting to get you drunk. While the imagination runs wild with the thrills of being drunk and being at the mercy of a pirate of your favorite gender, in all likelihood, you’ll just end up being sold into slavery—the hard labor type of slave.
Buy a map. Even in a universe where the landscape sometimes changes, it is useful to have a map. This makes it easier to find a safe place should you be dropped off in some remote location by a night-gaunt.
Have a friend call you. Let’s face it, too much of anything can be bad. If you’re questing in the Dreamlands, make sure you have an escape plan. Typically an alarm clock would suffice—for anything other than the Dreamlands. Once a storm of irony starts washing across the fantasy land of your dreams, there is no doubt the alarm clock will fail. But, if you have a friend give you a telephone call, or drop by, then you’ll always have an exit. And again, that’s what friends are for.
Unfortunately for Carter, Sarkomand was a stopover where the dread black galleys lay port. And this time they had a moon-beast and its slaves among the crew. And, to Carter’s horror, they were torturing the group of ghoul-friends who’d helped Carter escape from the gug city.
WHEN GHOULS ATTACK
Back when Carter had visited the ghouls, he’d learned they were allied with the night-gaunts—somewhat—who understood the ghouls’ meeping, gibbering language. So, given the dire circumstances, and because he was quickly running out of friends in the Dreamlands, Carter decided to help the prisoner ghouls. He managed to attract the attention of a night-gaunt guarding the area. Once the fiendish night-gaunt had grabbed him, Carter communicated the situation to the dark creature (after a quick bit of tickling). The night-gaunt carried him back to the land of ghouls—which was pretty close. Carter, the ghouls, and the night-gaunts conceived a plan of attack. United, they assaulted the ship containing the captured ghouls and diabolical moon-beasts. The moon-beasts and friends were quickly overwhelmed, and their prisoners were easily freed.
Exhilarated by the victory, the army of ghouls pressed onward to the nearby garrison of moon-beasts, launching an all-out attack. With the assistance of Carter, and the night-gaunts (the night-gaunts could grab foes and fling them, or just tickle them to death), the force crushed the moon-beasts, and their strange slaves.
I SCRATCH YOUR RUBBERY BACK, YOU TICKLE MINE . . .
With Carter’s aid, the captive ghouls were once again free. Finding some leverage in the situation, he tried to work a deal. Perhaps the ghouls would loan him a night-gaunt or two, and help him get to Kadath? It was a plan, although he didn’t expect much to come of it, given the way things had been going. But to Carter’s surprise, the ghouls not only agreed, they offered to accompany him into Kadath proper, and loan him the entire night-gaunt army.
Together, the group soared through the air in an impressive force, eventually arriving in Kadath. An ecstatic Carter rushed to the throne-room, only to find it empty.
THE LIGHTS ARE ON, BUT THE GODS AREN’T HOME
Well, not completely empty. Waiting for Carter was what turned out to be his nemesis, Nyarlathotep. The great messenger of the gods smugly informed Carter he’d been tracking the writer’s progress all along. If Carter had just stopped escaping so much, it turns out, Nyarlathotep would have told him everything. Such bitter irony.
Finally, with Carter staying put, Nyarlathotep explained that the city of the man’s dreams was quite literally a figment of Carter’s imagination. Like Kuranes, Carter had created the city. It was comprised of the majestic cities of Carter’s youth—bits of Boston, Providence, even Arkham. Unfortunately, Carter’s city was so grand it had even impressed the gods. So, they packed their belongings, left Kadath, and headed to “Carter-ville.”
This was all a bit much for Carter to comprehend. But before he could muster a few questions, Nyarlathotep informed him that it was his obligation, like it or not, to ensure the safe return of the gods to Kadath.
Nyarlathotep easily summoned a shantak-bird to carry Carter away. But before he left, Nyarlathotep charged Carter with the duty of visiting the majestic city and pleading for the gods to return to Kadath. Not surprisingly, and without a second thought, Carter agreed. There wasn’t anything to debate if it meant he’d get to visit the great city he had sought for so long.
IT WAS ALL A DREAM . . .
But the tricky Nyarlathotep had pulled a fast one. As guardian of the gods, he could force them to return to Kadath whenever he wanted, without Carter’s assistance. However, it was much more enjoyable to have some fun at Carter’s expense. Instead of setting out for Carter’s mythical city, the shantak-bird headed toward the center of the universe, where the great deity Azathoh waited.
By this point, it’s probably obvious that Carter wasn’t the swiftest horse in the race. Sometimes it took him a while to really catch on to what was happening. And luckily, the trip from Kadath to the center of the universe was lengthy. This gave Carter the time needed to contemplate the situation and find a solution. Like a blinding flash of light, the answer strobed through his mind: Wake up. Even though Carter was a man of words, on occasion he was a man of action. Quickly, he leaped from the shantak-bird, and fell into darkness—which promptly awakened him. Instead of drifting through the void of space and time, Carter was in his bed, with a beautiful, golden sunrise peeking through the windows of his Boston home.
MYTHOS SURVIVAL TIP:
TRUSTING NYARLATHOTEP
If you encounter Nyarlathoptep, in any of his 1,000 forms, be cautious. If you find yourself wondering if you can trust him, don’t. The great messenger god is a bit of a trickster, and delights in disrupting the events in human lives—and most everything else for that matter. For the most part, Nyarlathotep is sneaky and manipulative regardless of the form he takes. Worse, he enjoys “pranks,” and goes out of his way to weave elaborate tales—if it means he can have a laugh at your expense or taunt some other entity.
NO MORE DREAMS FOR YOU
As might be expected, Carter’s adventures didn’t end there. As he grew older, his ability to dream faded. No longer could he spend endless dream-months on quests, or visit his cat-friends in Ulthar. Without his fantastic dreams, Carter was forced to tolerate the humdrum nature of a normal human existence. This probably made him grumpy.
As Carter trudged into middle age, his dream situation didn’t improve much. But one night, while deep in slumber, his dead grandfather appeared before him. In this dream-like state, his grandfather told Carter of a silver key that would unlock Carter’s lost, dream-powered boyhood. Without hesitation, Carter hunted down the key. Along with it he found a mysterious parchment covered in cryptic sigils.
Key and parchment in hand, Carter drove to his boyhood home of Arkham. But as he strolled back home, he discovered it wasn’t modern-day Arkham at all—it was the Arkham of his youth. Suddenly, Randolph Carter was a ten-year-old child again.
MYTHOS SURVIVAL TIP:
MEETING WITH AZATHOTH IS A BAD IDEA
At the center of the universe resides the deity Azathoth, who is sometimes referred to as the blind idiot god (although wisely, never within earshot). Azathoth received his “idiot” title because he basically sits at the center of the universe, doing nothing all day and night—if there were a day and night where Azathoth is. Meanwhile, amorphous forms dance around the great god, playing flutes (the sound of trouble). Fortunately for the universe, this appears to keep Azathoth content.
It perhaps goes without saying that one should avoid vast entities at the center of the universe, that when disturbed can collapse the whole of reality. Even so, try to stay away from Azathoth if you can. There are many ways this can be done, the most relevant here is by not listening to Nyarlathotep when he tries to make a deal.
THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS
Back in present day, Carter’s cousins swarmed around his estate, eager to declare the missing fiction writer dead. A meeting was held to discuss divvying up Carter’s belongings, and while Carter’s numerous and dedicated friends argued the writer was still alive, they had a difficult time convincing the cousins’ sneering lawyer, Ernest B. Aspinwall.
Then, rather unexpectedly, the eccentric Swami Chandra-putra stepped forward, claiming to possess news of Carter’s whereab
outs. The strange swami set everybody on edge with his improbably dark eyes, monotone voice, and voluminous robe and mittens, all of which concealed his form. Regardless of all of this, the attendees patiently listened to Chandraputra’s story.
THE RED PILL OR THE BLUE PILL
After frolicking about the Arkham of his youth, Carter ventured into a dreaded cave outside of town, known as the Snake-Den. There, he practiced one of the rites he’d memorized from the strange parchment—the rite of the silver key. Suddenly, he was transported beyond space and time, confronted by a mysterious entity named ‘Umr at-Tawil (don’t try to pronounce it).
‘Umr at-Tawil explained that Carter must pass through the Ultimate Gate in order to continue. Of course, Carter was free to turn back—now—if he so desired. But if he continued down the rabbit hole, there was no telling what might happen. Not surprisingly, Carter continued onward.
With a jolt, the adventuresome writer was suddenly experiencing many facets of his life at once. In an instant he was a young Carter, a middle aged Carter, and an old Carter. Then, from beyond the boundaries of reality, Yog-Sothoth was suddenly before him, explaining what was happening (at least Carter was pretty sure it was Yog-Sothoth, you never could tell, with all these great, godlike deity types). Impressed with Carter’s adventures so far, Yog-Sothoth decided Carter was ready to learn the Ultimate Mystery of Life. That’s right, the greatest, awe-inspiring mystery in all of the universes. It wasn’t likely Carter was going to refuse this. And he didn’t.