Had there been any to see, it would be enough to tear the final wisps of sanity from any lesser being. During the long search for the shards of his broken crystal staff, the scribes found something even he had not expected.
An Old One; one who did not die in the war with the Yith but was found sleeping in the dimension known as R’lyeh. It took tremendous and complex manipulations pulling together the demons to salvage those tokens which would release the Great Old One, Cthulhu, from his slumbers. Even now, the humans speed their way toward the magnificent basalt city in the materium where the gateways lay waiting.
With the claw of one gnarled finger, Tezcatlipoca reached out and drew aside strands of the veil separating realities to enjoy this moment of time.
“My excitement is intense and building. Finally, after weeks of delay we are embarked upon the Iron Dragons Helleater en route to this mysterious city in the Southern Hemisphere of this planet. Accompanying us are the Arkham Confederates in a Capybara. Seems the delay was a result of consternation by the Inquisitor, not something one wishes to be the focus of, regarding an apparently large number of defectors. Rumors swirled they had taken to the jungles of this strange world based upon dreams of service, power and immortality. Inquisitor de Salis was quite wroth at hearing this and spent days interrogating the Arkham Confederates and inhabitants of the Hive City, Innsmouth.
Seems he did root out the corruption; for finally one broke, somehow his dying words echoing throughout the city, ‘Ia! Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young!’, and with that eerie cry, many hundreds fell dead. The remembrance of the event is enough in itself to run my blood cold as icy talons of death caress my spine.