The Cthulhu Campaigns
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CONTENTS
Introduction
Rome
Beset by Barbarians
East of the Empire
Africa Proconsularis
Aegyptus
Mythos Timeline
The Fall of the Roman Empire
Recommended Reading & Viewing
‘Out of the unimaginable blackness beyond the gangrenous glare of that cold flame, out of the tartarean leagues through which that oily river rolled uncanny, unheard, and unsuspected, there flopped rhythmically a horde of tame, trained, hybrid winged things that no sound eye could ever wholly grasp, or sound brain ever wholly remember. They were not altogether crows, nor moles, nor buzzards, nor ants, nor vampire bats, nor decomposed human beings; but something I cannot and must not recall.’
– The Festival
INTRODUCTION
‘A certain Cnaeus Gabinius Capito, military tribune in the Third Augustan Legion then stationed in Lindum in Roman Britain, had been summarily expelled from his command for participation in certain rites unconnected with any known religion. Gabinius had, the rumour ran, come upon a cliffside cavern where strange folk met together and made the Elder Sign in the dark; strange folk whom the Britons knew not save in fear…’
– H.P. Lovecraft, The Descendant
Rome, the greatest empire the world has ever known, limitless in breadth and power, magnificent in its glory!
The history of Rome is well known – at least ostensibly so. From its founding in the eighth century BC to its fall in 476 AD, Rome was the most important city-state in the world, sitting at the centre of the largest empire the world had ever known. It is easy to point to the great thinkers of Rome, its tacticians and leaders, or its vast armies as the lynchpin of this unprecedented era of Roman might and prosperity. And yet, the real truth is somewhat darker.
Long ago, before the fall of the Etruscan kings who once ruled Rome in their vice-like grip, fell gods were worshipped in secret, their very names deemed too powerful, too evil to utter aloud. Long after the foundation of Rome, those who held power continued to do so under sufferance of dark cabals, through rituals of supplication to cosmic entities who lay, hungering, in the darkness.
The oldest idols of Cthulhu predate the founding of Rome by some considerable time. This one was carried to Italy by Aeneas around 1175 BC, though where he found it is a mystery.
By the year 235 AD, with Rome stretched farther than ever before, something evil, ancient, and unknowable began to gnaw at the heart of the Empire. For centuries, a secret war had been waged across the Empire – a war to subjugate the gods themselves, and to secure power for the ancient deity who had protected Rome since the beginning. But the gods were not so easily vanquished.
Dark gods, trapped for centuries in thrice-warded tombs, were disturbed by Roman plunderers. A secret war was fought between those who would harness this strange power for themselves, and those who feared it signalled the very end of the Empire.
The undead walked abroad in the streets of Rome, heralding terrors that even the most pious followers of the gods could not fathom. Dark cults conspired in sequestered vaults, waiting for their moment to strike at the established order of Rome, ready to pave the way for their ancient masters. Consuls, priests, and even the Emperor himself burned offerings to deities whose existence could not be admitted to the mob of Rome.
In exotic lands bowed by Roman rule, slave nations sought to break the shackles of tyranny by invoking something far older, and far stronger, than any Roman god.
Across the sea, roused from eternal slumber by a world awash with war, by omens and pagan slaughter, a Great Old One waited for the way to be opened: a cosmic terror that man was not meant to know. Those who knew its name trembled, and only the very brave – or very foolish – incanted it for their own ends.
They whispered it in darkness; they cried it from top blasted hills; they screamed it to the raging oceans.
‘Cthulhu …’
A potent talisman to ward off evil, the Elder Sign is one of the oldest magical sigils ever recorded. No one who dabbles in the rites of the Old Ones can afford to do so without the Elder Sign’s protection.
The servants of Cthulhu can be found across the Roman Empire, but favour isolated places near the sea, where beacons burn bright to guide the way for the true descendants of the Great Old One.
The Priesthood of Rome
The line of emperors was always beholden to the priesthood – the quindecimviri sacris faciundis – for they were the keepers of the sacred Sibylline books, from which they augured the fate of the Empire. Some of the original books were destroyed, burned publicly in a great show of departing from the old, dark ways, when Tarquinius Superbus ruled as king. Some, however, survived. None outside the priesthood ever laid eyes on the oldest Sibylline texts, such as the collected fragments of the Liber Ivonis, said to be bound in human flesh and inscribed with runes that perhaps a handful of men on earth could decipher. The rites laid out in this book and others included ritual sacrifices so blasphemous that even the mob of Rome could never accept them. And yet it was by these rites that the Romans’ fortunes were assured.
It was through the prophecies and vile rituals contained within these books that Rome’s military ambition was fulfilled. Over the centuries, nation after nation fell to Roman rule until the Empire grew unwieldy and bloated. Few understood the dark pacts that the priesthood had made long ago, with creatures rarely seen by mortal men, and how these pacts guided Rome’s destiny from city-state to world power. Fewer still would wish to understand.
If anyone truly knew the priesthood’s allegiance, they would surely question why an unfathomable and terrifying god would aid an Empire of men at all; for the quindecimviri sacris were followers of an ancient deity named by the Magi of the east as ‘Cthulhu, the Great Old One’, He Who Lies Sleeping in R’lyeh. Even those within the priesthood did not question their traditions and ceremonial rites – they just did as they had always done. Some believed that the ultimate victory of Rome would see the awakening of Cthulhu, and the freeing of that dark and terrible Old One from his prison in sunken R’lyeh. Perhaps they believed that day would be an auspicious one, and that the final fate of all men should not be unleashed upon Cthulhu’s faithful servants. The Magi always held that mortals are immaterial to Cthulhu; that he is a capricious and destructive god, from a place and time far removed from our own pantheons. But none, of course, can know the truth of it.
The melding of old gods and new for political purposes represented great danger for those not inducted into Cthulhu’s mysteries.
Dark Corners of the Empire
By 50 AD, Rome ruled most of the Mediterranean: 150 years later, it was head of the largest Empire ever seen, stretching from Britannia in the west to Parthia in the east. With each new conquest, Rome acquired not only land and wealth, but slaves, gladiators, and soldiers. Those citizens of far-flung territories who embraced the Roman way of life prospered – so much so that many lords and ladies betrayed their people for a place at the governor’s table.
For the common people, it must have seemed as though the gods themselves had abandoned them. However, in many places, shamans and holy men saw the Romans as usurpers, followers of foreign gods who would ultimately pay for their blasphemy. The most fervent resistance to Roman rule came from the most devout followers of mysterious deities. Many of these gods had been worshiped since times before Rome had even existed. Their supplicants would not be so easily swayed from their faith.
By the order of the emperors, all artefacts of divine provenance discovered within newly conquered territories were to be returned to Rome, where they would be inspected and destroyed by the priesthood. This was a secret order, enforced by Rome’s
network of spymasters, the frumentarii, and no common soldier ever learned the significance of what he found, desecrated, or stole. With each temple or tomb that was sacked by the Romans, and each sacred text burned, the power of the foreign gods waned. But they did not die. Across the world, the followers of ancient deities gathered their relics and hid them, keeping the old faiths alive and worshipping in secret. Through these faithful servants, the enemies of Cthulhu gathered their strength, watching, waiting, for the time to strike back at their wayward brother.
The Frumentarii
Originally wheat collectors with extensive knowledge of inland navigation, the frumentarii were elevated to higher status under the rule of Hadrian, who recognized the need for an extensive network of intelligence gathering across the burgeoning Empire. Though the frumentarii were not publicly known as spies, their remit very much allowed – indeed, required – frumentarii to obtain secrets from Roman citizens across the Empire by fair means or foul.
The frumentarii were usually attached to individual legions, marching in safety to the provinces before taking their leave and operating independently. Ostensibly, their role was to gather intelligence, in order to prevent uprisings and rebellions, and to bring corrupt officials to justice. But there was another, more sinister side to their role. As far-ranging scouts, the frumentarii often infiltrated covens and foreign cults, or located secret caches of occult importance. In the name of the priesthood and the Emperor, frumentarii were often the first Romans to set foot in forbidden tombs and sealed temples, stealing away artefacts deemed too sacrilegious for lesser men to handle. In the course of executing their duty, frumentarii often acquired much occult knowledge, learning ancient languages and magical rites that might rival the most high-ranking priests. Though usually steadfastly loyal and pure of mind and body, some frumentarii inevitably became corrupted by contact with forbidden knowledge. Transformed by the burden of secrets too terrible to keep, these renegade spymasters represented the greatest threat to the stranglehold of the quindecimviri sacris, and were rooted out mercilessly.
After a long time on the road, a frumentarius finally delves into the catacombs he has been seeking, steeling himself for whatever horrors lie within.
The Broken Legions
It was to Rome’s armies, not to its priests, that the Emperor looked to secure the future of his domain. Splintered factions of the great legions carried out the will of the Emperor and, by extension, that of the mysterious quindecimviri sacris. They plundered ancient tombs in far-off lands, did battle with monstrous creatures that they could never speak of upon their oaths, and slew all who would oppose the rise of Cthulhu. That they did these things without truly understanding the terror they might unleash, or even without learning the name of the true deity that they fought for, was the great tragedy of the noble legionaries.
And yet there were some who were not so blinkered to the machinations of the priesthood of Rome. Some commanders had seen too much, and had come to mistrust their mysterious rulers who lived in luxury and safety in marble-floored villas while soldiers died at their bidding. Others had sworn oaths of their own, to the true god of the Romans, Mithras, who showed them the way to salvation. With each general and centurion who gleaned something of the truth and made the decision to oppose the will of Cthulhu, the priesthood’s grip on the Empire weakened. It was whispered that battles were even fought between opposing factions of Roman soldiers, though it would be a foolish man indeed to say this within earshot of Rome’s loyal agents. Nevertheless, for good or ill, the legions were slowly breaking, one soldier at a time.
On the long marches across the Empire, Rome’s legions fought almost autonomously, far removed from any central command structure. Some succumbed to the influence of exotic cultures and forbidden gods, while others remained stoically loyal to their own faith. From the pyramids of Egypt to the haunted plains of Dacia, from the mist-shrouded isles of Britannia to the old temples of Parthia, the legions endured, and fought.
The legions of Rome were the greatest fighting force in the world, their fortunes bolstered by the priesthood’s prayers to Cthulhu.
ROME
The name of Rome conjures images of gleaming white architecture, mosaic squares and bath-houses, gladiatorial battles in massive arenas, and the marching of triumphant legions along sweeping, straight roads. It was the pinnacle of a great empire, having risen from a mere Latin settlement upon the banks of the River Tiber, surrounded by enemies. But where the ancient Romans are credited for their ingenuity, enlightenment, ambition, and strength, the truth of Rome’s rise is far more sinister.
A relief sculpture discovered in a long-forgotten catacomb beneath Rome’s foundations, thought to depict the true ‘divine’ nature of Romulus and Remus. Too precious to destroy, but too dangerous to display, it adorned the very vault where the Liber Ivonis was kept.
Everything the common man of Rome was ever told, from the mythological origins of the city to the truth behind some of the most glorious battles of the Empire, is a distortion of the truth. That this small tribe was elevated to singular greatness was not some quirk of history, but the product of a diabolical pact with forces so ancient and alien that they threatened the very fabric of the world.
The Secret History of Rome
In a quite deliberate effort by the priesthood, the history of Rome has been confused with myth until legend and fact have become irrevocably intertwined. The Roman people rejoiced in myths that proclaimed their predestined greatness, never understanding the true cost of that destiny.
The most complete ‘record’ of Rome’s founding comes from Virgil’s Aeneid (29–19 BC). In this tale, widely accepted as historical fact by the average plebeian, the Trojan hero Aeneas, half-human son of Venus, escaped Troy with his father and a number of his fellow soldiers before the city was overrun by the Greeks. It was foretold that Aeneas was destined to found a city in Italy, and so he set sail, although the ship was blown off course by Juno, wife of Jupiter, and landed in Carthage. Though Aeneas fell in love there and wanted to remain, Mercury reminded him of his destiny, and so Aeneas once again set sail. After descending to the depths of Hades and fighting a great war, Aeneas eventually founded a settlement named Alba Longa, at the mouth of the Tiber.
According to the legend, it was Aeneas’ descendants Romulus and Remus who were the true founders of Rome. These twins were the sons of the war god Mars and Rhea Silvia, daughter of Numitor, the true king of Alba Longa. Rhea bore two sons who, by order of the usurper King Amulius, were thrown into the Tiber. A flood caused them to drift ashore at Ficus Ruminalis, where they were rescued by a she-wolf, the sacred animal of Mars. The boys were later discovered and adopted by a local herdsman named Faustulus and his wife Acca Larentia. When they came of age and learned their true heritage, Romulus and Remus deposed Amulius with the assistance of Numitor. Together they founded a city; however, in a dispute over the name of this new city, Romulus slew his brother in a fit of jealousy. The city became Rome, named after Romulus.
Even in these early tales, two things stand out. Firstly, Rome’s history has ever been in the hands of capricious gods. Secondly, Rome was founded on war and bloodshed, with brother sacrificing brother to claim the throne.
What no one – not even the learned Virgil – could know was that the true story of Romulus and Remus was somewhat more sinister. According to forbidden texts possessed by the quindecimviri sacris, the twins were indeed real, and not merely figures of myth. They were not descended from a mighty hero of Troy, but from a line of demigods stretching back to the shadowy birth of mankind. The twins bore such deformities – stigmata, believed by some to be divine, but by others to be a great curse – that they were drowned in the Tiber. And yet they did not die, for some say the half-human creatures were more fish than men.
As Romulus and Remus grew older, their appearance became more human, and their power to influence the feeble minds of men increased. They performed dark rituals, conducted mass sacrifices, and taught the
ir fanatical followers to speak and read the dark tongue of their mysterious ancestors.
Rome was founded through sorcery and bloodshed, and through those same means it endured. It was said by the priesthood that the descendants of Romulus remained, living among the citizenry of Rome, waiting for their time to rise up and reclaim their heritage. On that day, they believed their great father Cthulhu would rise also, and begin an age of darkness for those who were not devout.
CARTHAGO DELENDA EST: THE PUNIC WARS
In the early days of its expansion, Rome clashed many times with Carthage, a powerful city of Phoenician descent that had carved out its own empire in the Mediterranean. Carthage’s power resided in its mastery of the seas: the Phoenician gods, Baal Hammon and Tanit, were powerful indeed, sending storms to smash enemy fleets, and strong winds to carry Carthaginian trade ships far and wide. The priesthood of Rome had long muttered oaths to Cthulhu, but turned its devotion to him fully in order to secure the seas for itself.
The first Punic War (264–241 BC) was a war of faith as much as of conflicting ideologies. The two great nations fought to a standstill, and the Carthaginian gods felt their power wane for the first time in many centuries. In answer to this threat, a new generation of leaders rose from the military ranks of Carthage. These men had long campaigned in Numidia and beyond, and had there unearthed relics of a darker, more ancient and more powerful god than Baal Hammon. Bringing pages of the lost Sibylline texts back to their capital, they began devoting their sacrifices to the twisted, elephant-headed god Chaugnar Faugn. Soon, their prayers were answered, and the Carthaginians gathered an army capable of crossing vast distances overland, and of crushing the Romans on their own terms. The army rode upon the backs of elephants, blessed by Chaugnar Faugn, and led by the dark god’s most blessed commanders. The greatest of these commanders was Hannibal, who almost brought Rome to its knees in the second Punic War (218–201 BC). Hannibal’s famed elephants, which many maintained contained monstrous beasts quite unlike any natural creature in Africa, defeated legion after legion before crumbling at the last. It is said that Rome defeated Hannibal in a two-pronged strategy. First, the great general Quintus Fabius Cunctator (‘the Delayer’) wore down Hannibal’s army by raising fledgling legions, recruiting many men and pressing slaves into service in order to slow the Carthaginian advance. Fabius was blessed by the divine colleges of Rome, and was entrusted with spells of protection against Chaugnar Faugn by the priesthood. Secondly, a group of speculatores – elite members of the Praetorian Guard and trained assassins – were dispatched to Carthage to desecrate the elephant god’s shrines and slay his priests. Only one of the praetorians returned alive, and he brought word that the Carthaginians possessed many pages of Sibylline texts, including lost fragments of the Liber Ivonis. Rome weathered the storm of Hannibal’s attempted invasion, and signed a peace treaty with Carthage, but in secret the Romans plotted the fall of their rivals, for the Liber Ivonis represented Rome’s best chance of ultimate power.