Lunar
now i know how joan of arc felt
Hello there everyone, my goal of this thread is to post lore of creatures, cities, people and many other events and things that happen in the same universe, whether it be on the same world or not. This is purely fiction (duh) and is just a cool little project I have been planning on doing. Most of my posts will be intentionally vague or mysterious because this mythos is meant to have a strong feel of Cosmic Horror, or fear of the unknown. Some may notice what I write about, and my style, is very close, and inspired by, authors that focus on Lovecraftian horror. (Such as H.P Lovecraft.) Well, I hope you all enjoy, also please let me know what you think and if you want to add anything to this expanding lore, then tell me! Also RPs based off of the lore of this IS ALLOWED, knock yourselves out!
The Gillian Genesis
The bottom of the parchment it blotted with blood and a mysterious dark goo.
The Gillian Genesis
To my young apprentice Gillian Vaudman
I cannot write what the clock says at the time of writing this, for I there is no clocks to speak of in my household. As matter of fact, there has never been a clock in this house. From my birth on the very porch of this cabin, to my ever-quickening death on this desk that I write at, a clock has not hung on any wall, or wrapped around any arm of any visitor, let alone myself. The ticking gets to me. I wasn't always afraid of the ticking though, there was a time when my ears were virgins to terror, I was 6 years young I believe. Happiness and joy rushed through the bright Oceanside town I lived in. My dad was a fisherman, as most were around here, and he ventured out to sea for days at a time, always bringing back great stories of large fish and odd birds. His stories were usually lighthearted and exciting to hear about, until his final fishing trip.
It was a normal sunny day as usual when he left on his fishing-boat with his crew, all seemed well. Several days and nights passed by as they usually do, each one as joyous as the last. A week passed until I saw my fathers ship come in to dock, something was off however. The sail, it seemed to be slightly ripped, slices of fabric hanged loose from the rest. Not only that, the bottom of the ship was stained with what could only be described as black mud. Maybe they just hit land in some swamp far off I thought at first, until I saw the crew protrude from the lower levels of the vessel.
All of the men had large dark bags under their eyes, they seemed to have been awake for days, the whole trip even. My dad looked just as they did, sickly and tired. Once we arrived at our home, I question him what happened on the trip and why they returned without any fish. "They went rotten on the way back." He responded. He mumbled that the rest of the night, sometimes I heard him say something different, almost sounding like a name. "Oceaguis" I don't think he slept that night.
The following months after whatever happened at the trip, my father and his crew continued acting the same, I have seen father leave the cabin many times at night, so often that I have became curious to where he ventures off to. The following night, I walked out behind him, making sure he didn't notice me. I tailed him down to the beach where several people gathered, all of whom were wearing hoods. My father walked up to them and spoke in some off tongue, one I have not heard before. After speaking, the rest nodded to him and they began walking into the water. Instead of floating or swimming, they sunk, walking to the bottom of the sea, all the while chanting "We all went rotten on the way back."
I watched them as the submerged themselves, they seemed to continue until the moonlight wouldn't show me their position in the water any longer. In the far distance however, something seemed to emerge from the water, it looked like a giant snake, it stretched above the clouds. I could feel its eyes burning into me, and a single word sounded in my head. "Oceaguis"
I ran back to the cabin and barely slept the rest of the week, my dad never returned from the water. All that was found of his crew were clothes soaked in the Black Mud. Since that day, I vowed to find what claimed the lives of the crew and my father. What I found along the way, you will find written here among my research and accounts. All of my belonging are under your name now my apprentice. Continue my legacy, find the truth. There are things out there that all humankind would never imagine, things that shouldn't be toiled with and things that should, this is a risk business as you should already know by now.
I write this now, lying here with a dagger in my side. Find it and hide it, or destroy it. All of my work and research holds enough truth and secret to reveal the true answer. The key to the question, the essence of being. Find it.
~F. Luyvic.
I cannot write what the clock says at the time of writing this, for I there is no clocks to speak of in my household. As matter of fact, there has never been a clock in this house. From my birth on the very porch of this cabin, to my ever-quickening death on this desk that I write at, a clock has not hung on any wall, or wrapped around any arm of any visitor, let alone myself. The ticking gets to me. I wasn't always afraid of the ticking though, there was a time when my ears were virgins to terror, I was 6 years young I believe. Happiness and joy rushed through the bright Oceanside town I lived in. My dad was a fisherman, as most were around here, and he ventured out to sea for days at a time, always bringing back great stories of large fish and odd birds. His stories were usually lighthearted and exciting to hear about, until his final fishing trip.
It was a normal sunny day as usual when he left on his fishing-boat with his crew, all seemed well. Several days and nights passed by as they usually do, each one as joyous as the last. A week passed until I saw my fathers ship come in to dock, something was off however. The sail, it seemed to be slightly ripped, slices of fabric hanged loose from the rest. Not only that, the bottom of the ship was stained with what could only be described as black mud. Maybe they just hit land in some swamp far off I thought at first, until I saw the crew protrude from the lower levels of the vessel.
All of the men had large dark bags under their eyes, they seemed to have been awake for days, the whole trip even. My dad looked just as they did, sickly and tired. Once we arrived at our home, I question him what happened on the trip and why they returned without any fish. "They went rotten on the way back." He responded. He mumbled that the rest of the night, sometimes I heard him say something different, almost sounding like a name. "Oceaguis" I don't think he slept that night.
The following months after whatever happened at the trip, my father and his crew continued acting the same, I have seen father leave the cabin many times at night, so often that I have became curious to where he ventures off to. The following night, I walked out behind him, making sure he didn't notice me. I tailed him down to the beach where several people gathered, all of whom were wearing hoods. My father walked up to them and spoke in some off tongue, one I have not heard before. After speaking, the rest nodded to him and they began walking into the water. Instead of floating or swimming, they sunk, walking to the bottom of the sea, all the while chanting "We all went rotten on the way back."
I watched them as the submerged themselves, they seemed to continue until the moonlight wouldn't show me their position in the water any longer. In the far distance however, something seemed to emerge from the water, it looked like a giant snake, it stretched above the clouds. I could feel its eyes burning into me, and a single word sounded in my head. "Oceaguis"
I ran back to the cabin and barely slept the rest of the week, my dad never returned from the water. All that was found of his crew were clothes soaked in the Black Mud. Since that day, I vowed to find what claimed the lives of the crew and my father. What I found along the way, you will find written here among my research and accounts. All of my belonging are under your name now my apprentice. Continue my legacy, find the truth. There are things out there that all humankind would never imagine, things that shouldn't be toiled with and things that should, this is a risk business as you should already know by now.
I write this now, lying here with a dagger in my side. Find it and hide it, or destroy it. All of my work and research holds enough truth and secret to reveal the true answer. The key to the question, the essence of being. Find it.
~F. Luyvic.
The bottom of the parchment it blotted with blood and a mysterious dark goo.
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