A Chronicle of the Expedition to the Forlorn Icy Continent (Part 1)
4 months ago
– Tue, Sep 11, 2018 at 09:04:15 AM
Over a course of couple project updates I will share the introductory chapters of this strange land, giving you - our awesome backers - an insight into the lore and mystical world that you are now a part of.
So sit back, relax, and while reading, why not also listen to our official Machina Arcana soundtrack?
My involvement in all of this started with the investigation of seemingly unrelated violent acts many years ago. Acts layered with cryptic symbols and gruesome rituals. As a man of science and an esteemed scholar of the occult, I was approached by the Lieutenant Anthony Ward who was in charge of the investigation. Lt. Ward wanted my expertise on unveiling the possible pagan, ritualistic motives behind a few gruesome murders which had happened locally.
Ever-possessed of a lively mind and an inquisitive intellect, and by virtue of the dual benefits of fortune and situation, I have had the opportunity to pursue knowledge to the very remotest corners of the globe. It seemed to me that no matter how long I searched, my thirst for answers was never satiated. But sometimes you dig too deep.
And so it was that on one of my numerous adventures to a secluded region and a society which dwelled far below our preconceived notions of modern civilization, I came across scenes that I tremble to remember.
I had obtained the trust of the inhabitants with my not inconsiderable proficiency in both medicine and construction, which I had gainfully employed to assist and benefit them. In return, they had cheerfully aided my efforts in researching their culture, language, and norms, subjects which have always fascinated me. So it is not strange, perhaps, that they had enough confidence to involve me in the ghastly events of that night.
On the night I speak of, I was awoken by a frightened local. I could hear a commotion in the gathering place; shouts, cries and screams mingling in a raucous cacophony. From some of the more clear-headed villagers, I understood that a great blasphemy was being committed and the ritual of forbidden Gods had been performed at their sacred grounds. We hastily assembled a group of stout-hearted men, the few of us who were not paralyzed with horror, and ventured forth to confront what awaited us. We held tightly to our makeshift weapons, as we walked on, eyes drawn to the ominous flames that rose in the distance.
The sight that met us at the pyre was abhorrent. Silent, abandoned, only the grisly results of ritualistic homicide laid out before our unbelieving eyes. There were strange effigies, partially buried in the sand – carved black cylinders, decorated with bizarre symbols I had never witnessed before. The victims had clearly been sacrificed, massacred to some unspeakable horror. They were arranged around the central fire, which was still radiating an unnatural warmth on our stricken faces. Either by luck or the turn of a cog that is part of some hidden cosmic mechanism, there was a statue lying on the ground that caught my attention.
Imagine my terror, then, as Lt. Ward drew from his bag a sculpture in the exact likeness of the one I saw so long ago during my far-flung studies. The curiously carved tentacles, almost alive in their glistening repugnance, and the way in which the very cold at its heart emanated toward my unwillingly reaching hand, reminded me of those eerie memories I had hoped were locked away forever. As I listened to the facts of the case, emotionlessly set down before me by the Inspector, I knew I would have to see this story to its conclusion. No matter what lay in store for me.
..to be continued