Wherein your humble scribe presents a monster and an artifact (in Barbarians of Lemuria format) that he whipped up for his nascent Lovecraftian Fantasy setting, Nogoloth, as he continues to dither on which system to use for such things. You might note that this makes two BoL-based Nogoloth entries in a row. Make of that what you will.

In the port city of Pnikigystros, on the southernmost shore of Nogoloth, there stands an ruined church – once consecrated to St. Xavier of the Kettle, according to the few ancient residents who can recall the times before it was boarded-up and abandoned for reasons unspoken. Despite its dilapidation and lack of occupants, the bells of this cathedral still ring out at dusk and dawn on odd days – days that some claim are holy to the darker gods who hold sway over the affairs of man and beast. The mournful tolling of the bells can be heard from one end of Pnikigystros to the other, even in the fine mansions atop Owl Hill. The people of the city take extra care on these days, when bad luck and murder are in the air. Sailors refuse to weigh anchor on these days, and children who are born between the ringing of the bells are quite often sickly and haunted in appearance.

The residents of the neighborhood where the church stands – called Blacksend by those who dwell there – shun this structure, crossing to the other side of the street and spitting on the ground when they must pass by it as they hurry down Margrave Lane. In the early evening, when the blood red light from the setting sun streams through the building’s high stained glass windows and plays upon the cobblestones outside its doors, even the least superstitious folk choose a route that avoids that sullen street entirely, regardless of the distance that traversing Margrave might save.

In other places of the world one might expect that such a structure would attract the attention of curious children or, perhaps, the interest of a criminal element that might seek to take advantage of such a blighted place, to engage in their unlawful activities out of the watchful eye of the constabulary. But in Pnikigystros, one finds nothing of the sort. My own efforts to recruit urchins or footpads to investigate the church further on my behalf – a system which has proven useful in other areas of Nogoloth, as you’ll recall – have fallen upon willfully deaf ears. Once word reached the broader communities of these sources of inexpensive explorers I found that I was unable even to complete a friendly exchange with such citizens.

If not for the willingness of a certain sea captain and his crew of less-than-sterling repute I might never have found anyone to enter the edifice in question and secure for me the bronze vessel that proved to to be precisely where a particular venerable verger with a tongue loosened by various libations had indicated it would be found. That only the first mate of the Green Phoenix – a peculiar man named Crawford Fowler, whose bearing and features implied a connection to the Cwnuihd Fowlers – delivered the item to me, with a blank stare and far less interest in his payment than I was led to expect from one of his sort, is of no matter.

I must confess that even I – engrossed as I was in my examinations of the Kettle – was slightly unnerved upon hearing that the pirates’ ship – after sitting quietly vacant at the docks for weeks – was suddenly no longer moored there on the 22nd morning after the breeching of the church – a morning, one should note, that followed the tolling of the Bells of Pnikigystros.

Anthrognaath

Anthrognaath are large (2′ to 4′ long) centipedes with the faces of men. These creatures come from somewhere else, entering our world through various arcane devices that typically contain liquids, such as bowls, cauldrons and kettles. Anthrognaath are quite intelligent and often possess significant magical knowledge, but are unable to wield it in their natural forms. For this reason, they seek out sentient host beings into whose body they burrow once the neurotoxin from their bite takes effect. Once inside a host, the Anthrognaath is able to use its arcane abilities through the form it has hijacked. The process of Anthrognaath “possession” does hideous damage to the host being, who will typically survive no more than several weeks, during which time the Anthrognaath will actively seek out new potential hosts.

Attributes
Strength 4
Agility 1
Mind 2

Combat Abilities
Attack with Bite +2; d6-2 plus poison
Defense: 2
Protection: d6-2 (chitin)
Lifeblood: 20

Anthrognaath Poison
A person damaged by the bite of an Anthrognaath must make a Demanding Strength check or become paralyzed in d3 rounds. This paralysis lasts for d3 hours, during which time an Anthrognaath will invade the victim’s body, effectively killing the victim. One an Anthrognaath has so co-opted a body, the host creature will still outwardly resemble its former self, but will in fact be home to the Anthrognaath’s evil mind and powerful arcane abilities. Such unwilling sorcerers possess an Arcane Power of 15 and a Sorcerer career rank of 3.

The Bronze Kettle Of Mithathu

The Bronze Kettle Of Mithathu is a damnable relic of an ancient time. Some two feet in diameter and perpetually cold to the touch, the metal that comprises its form is stamped and carven with obscure runes which are a variant on the Star Tongue of the Elds – hard to decipher but clearly full of dire warnings and other such language designed to dissuade casual use of the item.

The possessor of the Bronze Kettle of Mithathu is highly resistant to all extremes of temperature (a Boon that grants an extra die when rolling to resist such effects). Further, all second and third magnitude spell cast by the possessor receive a bonus die when cast and their Arcane Power costs are reduced by 3 AP.

However, a darkness lingers over the artifact. Every time the Kettle is used as part of a summoning spell, there is a 1-in-3 chance that the summoned creature will immediately attack the magician who calls it forth, regardless of any precautions taken to prevent this. Further, all spells cast with the power of the Kettle permanently drain one Lifeblood from the caster. Lastly, at dusk and dawn on the holy days of the Dark Gods, there is a 1-in-6 chance that an Anthrognaath will emerge from the Kettle in search of a host creature.

Wherein your humble scribe presents a couple of monsters and an artifact (in Barbarians of Lemuria format) that he whipped up for his nascent Lovecraftian Fantasy setting, Nogoloth, as he continues to dither on which system to use for such things.

The pampered academics at the Great University in Khaarm espouse countless theories about the nature, history, and ultimate destination of the Iron Line. The earthier scholars of Canton-on-Imisk have different opinions; some have even followed the Line deep into the windswept mountains of the north in search of hard, scientific truth. But even the hardiest investigators have been forced to turn back well before reaching the Line’s terminus. It seems that each of the several expeditions sent to identify the source of the Line has been driven back – smaller than it was when it embarked, as is grimly expected by the professors and administrators – due to some singular concatenation of events and circumstances or another, all of which seem natural and plausible enough to the casual observer. But that nineteen souls have perished in the pursuit of something as simple as what lies at the other end of a 3′ wide ribbon of iron that is sunken so throughly within the bones of the earth – extending no less than 10 feet deep, even in the hardest of bedrock – has brought something of a sense of doom to the Iron Line and its mystery.

The course of the Iron Line, which has been mapped thoroughly within the areas settled by man, runs from the edge of the cliff that rises above the port of Pnikigystros in the south and winds its way across much of the civilized regions of Nogoloth – passing as it does within no less than 1/2 mile of each of the other major cities, and sometimes through them – before taking its turn into the northern mountains. At any given moment the Iron Line may feel incredibly warm or icy cold to the touch, often radiating significantly different levels of heat a mere handspan apart. Some dedicated observers of the Iron Line report that under certain conditions (time of year, weather, and other factors contribute) the Line seems to sing (very softly) a complex, undulating melody that stirs melancholy and dread within the audience. That some people appear utterly unable to hear this song even as those next to them are able to describe what they are hearing with exquisite detail only furthers the mystery of this Nogolothian oddity.

Q’agpthah

Resembling a hideous and eldritch amalgam of insect, ape and lizard, Q’agpthah live in the caves that dot the high passes of the northern mountains. These beasts possess a cunning, if rudimentary, intelligence and have displayed an aggressive nature that makes them a significant threat to any who seek to travel through the mountains – whether attempting to follow the Iron Line or pursuing other business. Those who have risked their lives to observe these beings’ society – such as it is – report that the Q’agpthah appear to worship regularly at a hieroglyphic-covered altar deep within their mountain caves that clearly could not have been produced by their limited culture. According to the hastily written notes in the field journal of a researcher who has since taken his own life, the Q’agpthah also possess several similarly-inscribed tablets from which they appear to read, though this is doubtless a case of the creatures imitating human behavior rather than observing a true liturgy.

Attributes
Strength 3
Agility 1
Mind 0

Combat Abilities
Attack with Two Claws +1 each; d6+2 damage each
Defense: 0
Protection: d3 (thick fur, chitin, and scales)
Lifeblood: 15

The Tablets of L’thuggothaaa

Within the dark and twisting caves of the Q’agpthah there lies a large chamber – clearly hewn from the rock by some intelligent hand – which serves as the creatures’ Cathedral. An iron altar – stamped and etched with hieroglyphs of a language unrecognizable even to scholars steeped in the deepest mysteries of Nogolothian lore. Atop this altar rest the Tablets of L’thuggothaaa, a pair of ancient stone tablets inscribed with blasphemies so mind-shattering that they have destroyed the minds of all who have read them – including the entire race of alien beings now called “Q’agpthah” by the men of Nogoloth. These tablets, unlike the altar upon which they rest, are written in a language similar to the Star Tongue of the Elds and may potentially be deciphered by any who have studied that damnable tongue.

Game Information: A person who acquires and deciphers the Tablets of L’thuggothaaa – neither of these is an easy task – will immediately be granted the Power of the Void and Magic of the Sorcerer Kings boons. The unfortunate soul who read these words will also be burdened with terrible knowledge that will manifest itself in the form of the Unsettling and Morgazzon’s Curse flaws. As is always the case with Morgazzon’s Curse, the exact nature of the flaw is left to the GM.

Ilthoth-eg

Small, grey-furred cat-like beasts that inhabit the caves deep within the northern mountains of Nogoloth, Ilthoth-eg are set apart from the “normal” wildcats of the region by their abundance of eyes. A typical Ilthoth-eg possesses somewhere between 7 and 11 eyes arrayed across their bodies. Though not truly intelligent, these animals chitter and whisper their previous victims’ words as they stalk their prey through the darkness of the caves.

Attributes
Strength 0
Agility 4
Mind −1

Combat Abilities
Attack with Bite +4; d6-1
Defense: 5
Protection: d3-1 (light fur)
Lifeblood: 8