The Colour Out of Space: Turn 20
Shub-Niggurath's incursion into a province next to Abysia's seat of power was great success! The deity even made the Hall of Fame.
(I have no idea why I armed him with so many pearls, he doenst use single one at this point of research. Good side, the pearls are safe.)
It sparked an diplomatic reaction from Abysia, who thus far had been ignorant of my precence. Abysia sent a raven carrying the following proposal:
Cheers Mate,
Happy to see your vastness stop by for a visit.
I offered some tea and biscuits, then some beer and bratwurst but he (she, it?) declined all.
In any event 233 and 231 are sensitive to our nation (I know we haven't taken them yet).
So I will offer this up. 500 GP to leave 233 and 231 for us?
Cheers and all the best and some matches for the barbie from Abysia!
Seriously, they try and bribe an otherworldly deities? We respond with an another adaption, this one from the beginning of
The Colour Out of Space:
East of Abysia the hills dont rise that wild, and one would not find there steep valleys with deep woods that no axe has ever cut. Instead, those gentle slopes and olive-tree groves are crowded with fields and farms, homesteads ancient and rocky, with squat, moss-coated cottages brooding eternally over old Riverlands secrets in the lee of peaceful, lengthy seaside; but these are all vacant now, the wide chimneys crumbling and the shingled sides bulging perilously beneath low gambrel roofs.
The old folk have gone away, and Abysians nor foreigners do not like to live there. Caelumians have tried it, Northmen have tried it, and the Monkeys from the east have come and departed. It is not because of anything that can be seen or heard or handled, but because of something that is imagined. The place is not good for imagination, and does not bring restful dreams at night. It must be this which keeps people away. Old Ammi Pierce, whose head has been a little queer for weeks, is the only one who still remains, or who ever talks of the strange days; and he dares to do this because his house is so near the open fields and the travelled roads of Riverlands.
When I went into the groves and fields to search a place for a new colony they told me the province was evil. They told me this already in Abysia before I left, but because Abysia is a very old kingdom full of warlocks I thought the evil must be something which rustic grandmas had whispered to children through centuries in countryside circling around the mighty Abysia. The name "blasted cold" seemed to me very odd and theatrical, and I wondered how it had come into the folklore of heat lovin' fiends. Then I saw that dark westward tangle of those once cultivated fields and dapper groves for myself, and ceased to wonder at anything beside its own elder mystery. It was morning when I saw it, but shadow lurked always there. The trees grew too thickly, and their trunks were too big for any healthy Riverlands wood. It was too silent amongst them, and the fields were now covered with the dank moss and mattings of decay. Upon everything was a haze of restlessness and oppression; a touch of the unreal and the grotesque, as if some vital element of perspective or chiaroscuro were awry. I did not wonder that the noone would stay, for this was no region to sleep in.
But even all this was not so bad as the blasted cold. I knew it the moment I came upon it at the spacious field; for no other name could fit such a thing, or any other thing fit such a name. It was as if the prophet had coined the phrase from having seen this particular region. It must, I thought as I viewed it, be the outcome of freeze; but why had nothing new ever grown over these five acres of grey desolation that sprawled open to the sky like a great spot eaten by ice in the woods and fields? It lay largely to the east of Abysia. I felt an odd reluctance about approaching, and did so at last only because my duties took me through and past it. There was no vegetation of any kind on that broad expanse, but only glacial, grey dust or ash which no wind seemed ever to blow about. The trees near it were sickly and stunted, and many dead trunks stood or lay frozen at the rim. As I walked hurriedly by I saw the tumbled bricks and stones of an old chimney and cellar on my right, and the yawning black maw of an abandoned well whose stagnant vapours played strange tricks with the hues of the sunlight. Even the long, dark walk on a forest province beyond this province seemed welcome in contrast, and I marvelled no more at the frightened whispers of Abysian people.
In the evening I asked old people in Abysia about the blasted cold, and what was meant by that phrase "strange days" which so many evasively muttered. I could not, however, get any good answers except that all the mystery was much more recent than I had dreamed. It was not a matter of old legendry at all, but something within the past weeks. It had happened in the last month, and the regional guard corps of farmers had disappeared or was killed. Speakers would not be exact; and because they all told me to pay no attention to old Ammi Pierce's crazy tales, I sought him out the next morning, having heard that he lived alone in the ancient tottering cottage where the trees first begin to get very thick. It was a fearsomely ancient place, and had begun to exude the faint miasmal odour which clings about houses that have stood too long. Only with persistent knocking could I rouse the aged man, and when he shuffled timidly to the door could tell he was not glad to see me. He was not (yet) so feeble as I had expected; but his eyes drooped in a curious way, and his unkempt clothing and white beard made him seem very worn and dismal.
Not knowing just how he could best be launched on his tales, I asked vague questions about this province and of those beyond this one. He was far brighter and more educated than I had been led to think, and before I knew it had grasped quite as much of the subject as any man I had talked with in Abysia. He was not like other indies I had known in the parts where usefull land for new colonies were to be found. From him there were no protests at the miles of old wood and farmland to be blotted out, though perhaps there would have been had not his home lain outside the bounds of the possible future presence of Abysian settlers. Relief was all that he showed; relief at the doom of the dark ancient slopes and fields through which he had roamed all his life. They would be better under protection of Abysia—better under protection since the strange days. And with this opening his husky voice sank low, while his body leaned forward and his right forefinger began to point shakily and impressively.
It was then that I heard the story, and as the rambling voice scraped and whispered on I shivered again and again spite the summer day. Often I had to recall the speaker from ramblings, piece out scientific points which he knew only by a fading parrot memory of professors' talk, or bridge over gaps, where his sense of logic and continuity broke down. When he was done I did not wonder that his mind had snapped a trifle, or that the folk in Abysia would not speak much of the blasted cold. I hurried back before sunset to the capital of Abysia, unwilling to have the stars come out above me in the open; and the next day returned to the royal court to give up my position. I could not go into that dim, freezing chaos of old fields and groves again, or face another time that grey blasted cold where the black well yawned deep beside the tumbled bricks and stones.
The new Abysian colony will not be build there, it turned out. All those secrets the earth holds will be safe forever. Neither do I believe I would like to visit that province by night—at least not when the sinister stars are out; and nothing could bribe me to drink water of that province.
It really strikes me that I have to eradicate all these nice, little slave races such as this Abysia...
Oh well, We hire province defence worth of 41. We try to use the province to spread our dominion and make these areas less usable for our enemies. While this arrangement might not be permanent, we can weaken the position of Abysia significantly – and any other nation invading his lands later on.
Elsewhere, Abdul Alhazred finds an interesting site providing 4 gems and enabling the recruitment of Cursed Captain. This lad seems a splendid fellow. He has Fear (2), awesome Stealth (20), he is Undead, can Pillage (10) and has badly needed magic skills. The leadership is rather limited (10) but with little equipping this fallen being can command hordes of cultists and Void beings. Only thing missing is the ability to Sail, which would turn the Captain a real sea monsters.
For 150 gold coins we get our moneys worth, and we start preparations in order to build a lab here. With proper gear the captains might be able to take down small garrisons behind the enemy lines alone, but most importantly they seem to be able to sneak deep into the enemy territory without being noticed.
The Dreamlands also face increasing upkeep. Especially complicated are the mad men and cultists on ground provinces. We need to start drowning them fast. Of course, a land war could be another option... but worse still, it appears.
Come the next month, the Dreamlands should have spread into three new provinces: Starspawn priests finally march up the river in North-West, invasion force in South moves forth as well, and Shub-Niggurath starts spreading it's blight around the province it destroyed this month. The invasion force in Sea of Woe receives reinforcements next month. It still remains to be seen whether the army continues up the river to meet with Shub-Niggurath, or should it stay South in case primates calling themselves Men go grazy?
As the last thing we inform Northmen of the location of Abysia's capital - and vice versa - using the same
The Terrible Old Man -adaption.