Chapter 2 - Sigil in the Undergrowth
If Kaliaera was ‘the city of sunshine’, the arboreal
jungles that made up the remaining southlands were a balancing, verdant
twilight. I was warned repeatedly that venturing beyond the city walls was an
almost certain death sentence, but I would not be deterred: I was too close to
securing another piece of the puzzle.
In recent years a hidden pattern had started to reveal itself in the
worldwide media of Providence. Rags, tabloids and broadsheets had become
unusually filled with the recent exploits of famed (and infamous) explorers and
archaeologists as they proudly declaimed their latest, ancient discoveries.
Indeed, it was one of my more learned associates, Professor Humbolt Copernicus,
whom had proposed to me of a linked history between the archaic edifices of
this world and enlisted my aid to uncover further proof to his hypothesis. That
was three years ago and so far it was appearing that his assertions were become
more and more conclusive with every site I searched.
Kaliaera though was proving a much more formidable region to traverse,
and despite the fact I considered myself something of an inveterate traveller
of exotic lands, the dank humidity of the jungle southlands was a seriously
punishing endeavour. Even my canine companion, a snowy-haired hound called
Sleet, who had been ever at my side as I traversed windy mountains and frigid
steppes, was suffering; lying exhausted upon a nearby rock, panting and
whimpering.
My guide, a haggard and unwashed rogue, from the city’s paramilitary (and
the only individual lunatic enough to venture out this far, I am assuredly told)
who answered to the name of ‘General’ Alcazar had, so far, dutifully escorted
me to the location of the ruins in recompense for a reasonable sum of money. He
was now stood nearby, rifle in arms and gazing intently at the thick canopy
above. I was not certain, but I swear I could hear him muttering something
about eyes on us in the trees as he ruminated upon the stub of a thick cigar,
sat firm between his unshaven lips.
I wiped away another trickle of sweat with a damp cuff as it rolled down
the black Bakelite skin of my cam-visor before returning to the arduous task of
ripping away entrenched vines from the surface of large carved stone, embossed with
unfathomable runes. I was looking for one character in particular, one with
seemed to bridge the gulf of time and distance, one which had so far appeared
at all the sites I had visited.
There! Almost disguised in the large body of indecipherable text was a
sigil that blurred when you looked at it directly and caused a sharp migraine
pain to erupt behind the eyes. Even as the flash-image of tentacles which
spurred from my imagination faded, I was jubilant that I had found further
evidence for the Professor.
“So, it is here too then,” affirmed a cultured voice from behind me and
one that I instantly recognised. I drew the Lockyer .32 handgun that I had
borrowed from the General from under the flap of my rucksack lying next to me
and stood slowly, prepared to meet my nemesis….
So, my first character for the 40Kthulhu project is Remi Étain, writer and investigative journalist extraordinaire with his faithful hound Sleet. Naturally my inspiration for Remi is Hergé's internationally renown character Tintin, and the rest of my planned warband will include members inspired by the supporting cast. It was actually a single panel from the graphic novel 'Tintin in Tibet' that prompted this whole decision.
Спасибо за прочтение
