Attention Archive Staff:

It is with great sadness that I must inform the Archive staff that our annual trip to Chicago for the Wizards and Warbles conference had to be canceled due to difficulties being sustained by the Archive’s means of transportation. Our good auto the Magdalene, simply could not make the trip and had to be taken into the auto fixers for a good going over. We are happy to report it looks as though she will pull through this time, however, enough was not done within time for us to send our representatives to the conference.

In light of recent events, staffers are pooling together resources to hopefully make other conferences taking place over the summer months. In an effort to facilitate this endeavor, we’ve placed a variety of Archive items in Miss Etta Diem’s dry goods shop for immediate purchase by interested parties.

Most Archive staff are familiar with Miss Diem, but for those of you who have not spent an afternoon drinking or nibbling on any one of her strange teas and lunch concoctions, her old Victorian house is just a few kilometers down the road from the Archive. She runs an eccentric cafe and dry goods shop that a good many Archive staffers have used for exotic supplies in a pinch. Now we’re partnering with Miss Diem and allowing her to sell on consignment a variety of our token items. If you happen to have anything you would like to submit to the “auto fund” please feel free to contact any of your chief Archive staff members… with the exception of Professor Zolty, which we wish to continue reminding you that he is dead and should not be encouraged into believing he is still among us.

Anyone wishing to purchase any valued Archive items that have been turned over to Miss Diem’s shop, need only visit her. Below is a short list of a few items we’ve released into Miss Diem’s trustworthy care.

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In the late 1900’s at the height of the Spiritualist movement, Huxley Auspex took his place among the movement’s elite by creating and ushering into the world the Auspicmoriscope. The fantastic claims of this invention were simple: the user looked into the eyepiece and turned the handle and the spirit realm became visible within the instrument’s view finder.

The instrument caused a stir among even the most hardened in the community and Auspex became a quick celebrity, embraced by the likes of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He followed this rise to celebrity by creating a variety of variations on his original device, each offering claims more brilliant and fabled than the next. The final version of the auspicmoriscope was a heavy contraption that came complete with a strange scrying board and typewriter like letter box that was meant to allow the user to type in messages or relay the names of those they wished to contact. Auspex claimed the additions to the device allowed for better locating and displaying of those the viewer desired to see.

Though Auspex was a darling of the spiritualist movement and the auspicmoriscope one of its most valued tools, these things only served to make him a vocal point for the debunkers of the movement’s claims. Auspex even came under the wraith and dedicated attention of the infamous Harry Houdini, the renowned skeptic and revealer of spiritualist trickery. Houdini was one of the first to step up and proclaim Auspex’s invention nothing more than a charlatan’s tool and he sought every method and means to prove this theory. The problem was that the auspicmoriscope was not so easy to debunk and expose for the hoax it was seen to be. When most any viewer put their eyes to the eye piece, the simple fact was they did see a vision of this world as it was not seen through normal eyes. The darker shades of the shadows were highlighted and brought into deeper detail. The bright blue skies no longer looked as simple as they did on a spring day. And all too often thick vaporous forms seemed to dominate the viewfinder with no reasonable explanation as to why. What was more disturbing was how these vaporous forms seem to show more definition the longer one viewed them. Faces emerged and bodies slowly became outlined. Even those who were dead set on not seeing anything within these forms came away from the auspicmoriscope with the unsettling feeling that they had indeed viewed something other worldly.

(more…)

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 Today I added this mission generator in order to make my days a bit more interesting. It is still in its beta stage, but it is somewhat unlikely that it will cause any sort of dismemberment or death, unless used improperly. Feel free to try it out.

Adventure Mission Generator copyright © 2008 Myke Amend

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“He locked away the Necronomicon with a shudder of disgust, but the room still reeked with an unholy and unidentifiable stench. ‘As a foulness shall ye know them,’ he quoted. Yes - the odour was the same as that which had sickened him at the Whateley farmhouse less than three years before”

First off imagine be sprayed with yellow mustard from giant bottle, being treeted like giant cosmic weiner, then to be called ‘ugly’ or ‘hideous’ by wrinkly old humans I not even know personally, waving their arms about at self all threatening like, screaming at Dunwich Horror when Dunwich Horror not doing anything bad - just happily crusching trees all like “Crunch! Crunch!” minding own business… maybe eat a few humans but it’s okay really.

Then imagine be dissolved from world by meddlesome old people what won’t lend ancient books out and then think you are stinky, and what think brother are stinky which is LIE!

Well, It took long time be conjured back here just to defend myself from terrible old wrinkly man’s malicous comments at Dunwich Horror smell.

I wants to start with saying “Untrue!” at hideous wrinkly human thing what LIE about Dunwich Horror and Dunwich Horror family, want to ruin good name of Dunwich Horror!

Me could explain things about destruction of Earth and sucking it into nother dimension, but not worth dignifying that right now because of more important thing, like, say old man LIE!

Note:

1) Odour was at Whately farm house at SAME TIME Old Man was, then again in library at same time OLD MAN was in library. It does not take a brain genius to figure out this not happenstance or coindicince that SMELL WAS WHERE OLD MAN WAS, both times!

Old man wants to be seen as hero, but in reality, old man make hideous smell - not Dunwich Horror - then wrinkly old man blames hideous smell on Dunwich Horror, and then finds only spell to make Dunwich Horror leave before Dunich Horror tell about him lie to others.

Old Man not hero. Not hero at all! Not banish Dunwich Horror anymore!

Banish Old Man! Banish Old Stinky Man!

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Last night I entered the Miskatonic Archives, and through slight of hand and nimble footing I made it into the professor’s office and lab.

I found no sign of the Necronomicon, nor could I find any of those books that were acquired by the University through the Dunwich incident.

I did however manage to pilfer an impression of Professor Kemy’s scribblings from from a desktop notepad, though nothing as of yet makes much sense at all…

But none of what I found has much to do with my current situation, which I will relay to you now, in case these moments are to be my very last…

Though I had been quite sly and meticulously nimble in my excursion, I neglected to return with my bag… a bag containing a change of clothing, so that I could arrive at the Women’s Cello Society recital well-dressed and in good time for some celebratory drinking.

When I realized this, I was halfway between the University and my intended destination - and, my apartment on Rue d’Auseil being closer, I decided to grab a change of clothing at home instead of returning to Miskatonic University.

I do realize so far this sounds rather mundane and innocuous, but here is the point where things become utterly frightening and disturbing…

I returned to the university tonight, and found that my bag had indeed been discovered… my goggles crushed and broken, my hair pins mauled, brutalized, and perhaps violated… And my hat… MY HAT… 

My hat, I found in a corner, crushed and mutilated almost beyond all recognition. I say that because I was able to recognize it, though only barely…. and I wish I had not….

It was coated in some ghastly, hideous, and likely supernatural white slime, filled with feathers and blood… the organs of what I believe to have been a chicken’s…. and a bloodied deck of playing cards.

It is obvious that some terrible ritual was performed with my precious hat. I am unsure as to whether they have hexed me to die in some short period of time, or perhaps set some hideous beast from beyond on my trail. They may also have simply used it to scrye my name and whereabouts - regardless, I fear my time in this mortal coil may be numbered… with a rather low number… um… of time.

Oh my. I just sneezed… I knew it! This is the beginning of the end for me… I think I am coming down with some sort of unimaginable, terrible, hideous, and gruesomely eldritch illness! I feel faint… FAINT I SAY!

Now I faint.

Sincerly,

Cordelia Atwood,

Rogue Investigator

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Today, I came across a rather strange assortment of artifacts, piled loosely in a duffel bag in the corner of my office. The duffel bag bore no distinguishing marks other than a sticker reading “Abney Park”, what I believe to be a stamp from a possible stop along the way from its unknown origin.

Having worked tirelessly throughout the day to ascertain their origin, I found about midway through spectographics and other means, that these items were by no means ancient, or even old. However, knowing that there exist modern-times dabblers and adepts in the metaphysical arts and aether-scientific spheres, I decided it would be a good idea to inspect these items more closely.

The first of these items - what seemed to be a pair of flight goggles, with a crudely fashioned set of secondary lenses bound by brass arms, which for some reason did not seem to bend or swing in ways that would be expected for functionality, or even bend at all. In trying to manipulate the lenses, I eventually broke one of these arms, and spent my first hours rather panicked that I may have irreparably damaged something of great importance.

Next I tried the simple approach of wearing the goggles. Whether a result of my error, or simply a matter of design, I found that though I do look quite smashing in them, the goggles do absolutely nothing, nothing at all.

The next items were a pair of what seemed to be hat pins, strange in their making due to the presence of gears and cogs at their tops, these gears not leading to other gears, I thought at first they might be some sort of key, perhaps to some sort of advanced alchemical device yet to be found. In trying to turn these gears, to ascertain how advanced the inner workings might be, I ended up breaking one of these gears from the pin, only to find it the gear was simply bound in place by a sort of jewelers’ glue.

Lastly, there was a top hat, not recently made but certainly by no means old. On it were a variety of things, including more of these rudimentary arms and lenses, some ribbons, and an insignia pin - showing promise in its obscurity. I spent the last hours of my day trying to decode this sigil, to no avail, and finally I surmised what only an educated man such as myself would… that perhaps it was a magical hat - the likes worn by those tricksters and charletans on the square, and by actual practitioners of the ancient arts as well. The only sensible place to go from here was to test this theory.

First, I tried the simple route, taking a nearby glass of goat’s milk, and pouring it into the hat to see if the milk disappeared, or perhaps turned into confetti. The end result was a desk covered in milk, a somewhat saturated hat, and a rather perturbed and milk-drenched dean as a result of my efforts to demonstrate the hat’s presumed powers of milk-to-confetti transmography.

The next test was to insert a pigeon into the hat, and see if it either vanished or turned into a string of joined handkerchiefs, or perhaps a balloon… I like balloons. In order to contain the pigeon, I placed a board over the opening, and set a heavy weight atop the board. This ended only in completely destroying the hat, and regrettably, its contents.

After a long hard day of work, including many many tests, leading to disassembly, and ultimately frustration in having wasted an entire day, I found that these items were all fakes of some sort, perhaps placed in my office by entities from competing universities or perhaps from BEYOND, towards the purpose of distracting me from something groundbreaking and important - such as my research or possibly even tea time.

The fiend, whoever they may be, did manage at both of these - I am however more determined than ever to succeed at whatever it is this miscreant or spectre sought to distract me from - beginning with tea and descending by order of importance.

If anyone has any knowledge regarding the perpetrators of this prank, hoax, or scheme, I would ask that they contact me in my study as soon as humanly or inhumanly possible.

Annoyededly,

Prof. Aden M. Kemy

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This memo is in protest to the memo previously left by Ms. Babel-Jean Teahymn, and for the purpose of disputing my status as a former employee, ex-employee, demised employee, or employee who has otherwise ceased to be.

This letter is being transcribed by intern Tom Lazythint, as for some reason or another I have become temporarily incompatible with objects on the material plane of existence - a mere phase which I am sure will pass in time, and something I am sure must happen to most people my age at some point or another. Regardless, this statement is a disclaimer against possible typos and other displays of intern daftness which might occur within this transcription.

I would like to say that in fact, I feel quite fine, and very well up to my duties regardless of my current state, and declare that I will fight tooth and nail with anyone who even as much as attempts to park their autocar in my assigned parking spot, parks their grimy feet on my fine brazilian cherrywood desk, or even thinks to attempt to raid my tobacco stocks, pilfer my chocolate stores, violate my taxidermied werebeasts, or as you whippersnapper deviants tend to say “yiffing the howlers”.

I do realize that the corpse found in the bath may in some ways resemble my own proud and well-bred visage in various ways such as height and remarkably well-tailored swimwear, and in this I can see where this confusion may have stemmed from. I do however assure you that I am right as rain and feeling as though I am well in my prime.

I would also like to inform that putting an end to my pay and benefits, or allowing anyone access to my office, would be very ill-advised, considering that I am a storehouse of information - information which this fine establishment would most likely prefer to have limited solely to this fine establishment, rather than in the hands of entities such as perturbed villagers and inquisitive constables.

Yours, if you know what is good for you,

Mint T. Zloty

P.S. Oh drat! I seem to have slipped through my chair again… no! don’t type that you boob! Just help me up or I swear you will receive the caning of your life! You there! I said stop typing you knitwitted son of a diseased mongoloid poopsmith! Just what do you think you are doing?! Get me out of this floor God blast it!

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Attention Archive Staff:

It has been brought to my attention that someone has purchased a sinusoidal bath as part of the replacement equipment for the baths in the gymnasium that were destroyed by that localized storm.

May I remind all staff that all equipment brought into the facility must follow proper installation protocol and be maintained or observed as needed for the safety and well-being of all Archive staff.

The electrified remains of elder archive staff member Mint T. Zloty were found in the sinusoidal bath still smoking early this evening. Consequently, Professor Zloty is said to be in the south wing reading presently. As an added sidenote - please keep in mind that smoking is strictly prohibited anyplace other than the smokers’ lounge, the walk-in humidore, the library, or your own personal laboratory.

If someone would be so kind - please seek out Mint and please inform him that he is dead and we will not be expecting him to show up for work in the morning.

Thank you.

Sincerely, Babel-Jean Tea Hymn

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