Rappan Athuk promises “the grand-daddy of all dungeon crawls”! It delivers.

Third Edition Rules, First Edition Feel.

That’s Necromancer Game’s tagline. In their introduction to Rappan Athuk they expand on what this means: “Why is the dungeon there? No one knows. Why do the monsters usually fight rather than talk? We aren’t really sure. Why are there 16 trolls in a cave with a jug of alchemy? No one cares. What do all the monsters eat? We don’t know that either. And we don’t have to know these things. This isn’t an ecology experiment; it’s a dungeon.”

So what’s the point?

To have fun, of course.

To a certain extent, though, I don’t feel that Rappan Athuk quite lives up to this ideal. Sure, they’ve adhered to the classic, first edition format: Here you have your tables of rumors about the dungeon (some true, some false); random encounters; a plethora of monsters, traps, and treasure. But Rappan Athuk isn’t quite as random or meaningless as their introduction would lead us to believe: There is a logic to why things are the way they are.

Does Rappan Athuk strain credulity? Perhaps. Is it really as illogical as TSR’s “classic” modules? I don’t think so. It seems more akin to Ruins of Undermountain than Palace of the Silver Princess.

Not that I’m criticizing this, by any stretch of the imagination. I am, to the contrary, more than happy to see that Rappan Athuk will not be featuring, for example, levels of bloodthirsty Lewis Carroll characters incomprehensibly assaulting adventurers (as Castle Greyhawk did).

In fact, for me, Rappan Athuk is an exciting product – a product that makes me itch to retrieve my game manuals, dice bag, and character sheets and start rolling up stats. The pure, high-octane fun of an epic-level dungeon crawl carried out with style really shouldn’t be underestimated.

Sure, there are folks who consider themselves too “mature” for this sort of thing. Those people are boring. Ignore ‘em and strap yourself in: It’s time for a ride…

CONCEPT

Warning: This review will contain spoilers for Rappan Athuk. Players who may end up playing in this module should stop reading now.

One thing to note right up front is that this particular module is the first in a trilogy of modules, covering only 6 of Rappan Athuk’s 37 levels.

That’s right: Thirty-seven levels!

Damn, that’s cool.

But I digress.

Rappan Athuk, the Dungeon of Graves, was founded by the Temple of Orcus, following their defeat in an ancient conflict between good and evil. The priests of Orcus’ foul temple escaped the final conflict, and fled to a vast complex of underground caverns. Over time, the priests adapted these caverns to their purposes, continuing with their foul rituals, and hidden from the light. Eventually their spreading influence could no longer be concealed, however, and parties of adventurers came to the dungeon seeking to end the evil for ever. They failed.

(One nice touch to the design of Rappan Athuk is that it is a “legendary dungeon” which takes into account the fact that, as a “legendary dungeon”, it will attract adventurers on a fairly regular basis. The upper levels of the dungeon, presented in this module, show the signs of recurrent adventuring parties – who can only delve so deep before retreating or being destroyed.)

Rappan Athuk: The Upper Levels presents Levels 1, 2, 3, 3A, and 4A of the dungeon (as well as Ground Level).

Ground Level: On the surface, Rappan Athuk is primarily accessed from a graveyard. The main order of the day here is traps, which are all designed with the intention of keeping adventurers out of the dungeons and away from the Temple of Orcus hidden deep beneath the earth. A number of access points to the dungeon below exist, including the Rat Tunnels, the Mausoleum… and the Well.

But those who have been to Rappan Athuk in the past have one very important piece of advice: Don’t go down the Well!

Another nice feature of Rappan Athuk is that it is not a linear dungeon: One does not simply go from one level down to the next. Rather, the levels link together in a complex myriad of possible approaches. Entering the dungeon itself can take you to a variety of locations: The rat tunnels can lead to Level 1 or Level 2. The Mausoleum leads to Level 1. The Well leads to Level 3A. From Level 1 one can go to Ground Level, Level 2, or Level 9. Level 2 has exits to Ground Level, Level 1, Level 3, and Level 4. And so forth.

Level 1: Level 1 is a natural cave system, primarily inhabited by wererats. However, the level as a whole is named after the “Dung Monster” – a mutated mimic which disguises itself as a toilet in order to lure in its victims. (Don’t laugh – it works in every single playtest I’ve run.)

Level 2: Level 2 is a finished level, featuring the home of Marthek the Madman and Ambro the Ogre. In a sealed portion of the level which adventurers have never successfully penetrated, one can also find the Tomb of Saracek – an undead, skeletal warrior with a history connected to the dungeon as a whole.

Here, again, you can see the nice contrast between “adventurers have plundered here” and “adventurers have not successfully plundered here” in the dungeon design. You can also begin to see, at this point, the subtle way in which Webb and Peterson have made Rappan Athuk believable, if not necessarily realistic: The wererats have a reason for living where they live. Marthek and Ambro have reasons for living where they live. The presence of the Tomb here makes sense.

Another strength which can be seen here, again, is the dynamic complexity of Rappan Athuk. PCs who come to Level 2 for the first time will most likely not be able to gain access to the Tomb of Saracek until they have delved deeper into the dungeon. Rappan Athuk defies a “loot it room by room” mentality – again helping to subtly reinforce its believability.

Level 3: Level 3 is a return to the natural caves which drew the Temple of Orcus to the location in the first place. This level is inhabited by purple worms, who hunt viciously. The entire level is known as a bane to adventurers – as witnessed by graffiti warnings over the level’s entrance. This level also features an oracle of the Temple, dating back to the earliest days of the Temple’s presence in the caverns – and remaining a sight of unholy pilgrimage for the priests who live below.

Level 3A: Level 3A is primarily accessed via the infamous Well. It is the lair of Zelkor, an extremely powerful, undead wizard. The lair is, essentially, a death-trap for all but the most powerful of adventurers. Cocky adventurers who ignore the plentiful warnings (not to mention the scratch marks of those unsuccessfully attempting to escape the lair via the Well after making the mistake of entry) will learn their lesson the hard way.

One thing I like about Necromancer’s modules is the fact that they refuse to pull their punches. Your players will learn fear in Rappan Athuk, and they will learn to respect the dungeon. This makes for a highly effective game session – and adds to the mystique.

Level 4A: Level 4A is known as the Basilisk Caverns, which should be pretty much self-explanatory. There are also some lost goblins in this level.

The lost goblins point to another nice strength of Rappan Athuk: The goblins journeyed up from Level 12A via Level 7A and became trapped by the basilisks. This is just one example of the foreshadowing of later dungeon levels which occurs throughout The Upper Levels. I have seen some reviewers criticize Rappan Athuk as a series of disconnected dungeon levels – but I simply can’t agree with this assessment (and am unsure how such a conclusion could ever be reached).

WEAK POINTS

Rappan Athuk has a lot going for it. Of course, it’s not without its share of flaws as well. A few things that caught my attention:

1. Several of the monster stats presented in the book are incorrect to one extent or another.

2. Necromancer Games should invest in a copy of a good mapping program. The maps I have seen in their products to date do not impress me. In products whose professional qualities shine throughout, the maps present themselves as oddly amateurish. Unfortunately, since the first place most people look in a dungeon module is the maps, I have the feeling that Necromancer is shooting itself in the foot by making the first impression of its products a potentially negative one.

3. The highly interconnected nature of the Rappan Athuk’s various sections really demands that the entire trilogy be released before you play it. It’s no good, for example, “starting to play now and not reaching the lower levels until they’re released” when, in point of fact, you can take a left turn one Level 1 and end up way down on Level 9. Although notes are included for playing the Upper Levels in isolation, they essentially consist of “the lower levels are completely, absolutely, and utterly inaccessible behind magical doors”. I don’t find this a satisfactory solution.

CONCLUSION

No one in the movie Casablanca says, “Play it again, Sam.” The words “Beam me up, Scotty” never appeared on an episode of the original Star Trek television series.

There are a lot of things in life which are seen in our memory only through rose-colored lenses. They exist in a state of “Platonic perfection”, and when we go back to view them again we realize that they do not – in fact – embody the archetypes which we have crafted for ourselves.

In my opinion, the “classic D&D modules” of the early days of the industry exist in this state: As a collective community, we remember them through rose-colored lenses. Perhaps we simply edit out the bad parts for ourselves. Or perhaps our DMs fixed up those modules before running us through them. Or perhaps we’re guilty of drawing a little bit from The Tomb of Horrors, a touch from Queen of the Demonweb Pits, and a smidgeon from The Keep of the Borderlands and making up a memory which is greater than any of its parts.

Where am I going with all this?

In my opinion, Rappan Athuk succeeds at capturing the spirit of the classic dungeon crawl in a way which the classic dungeon crawl, in point of fact, never captured on its own. Rappan Athuk is the epic dungeon which could only be found in nostalgia before now.

Although I’ll reserve final judgment until the fully trilogy is released, I will say this of The Upper Levels:

Rappan Athuk looks like a classic. Buy it today.

Style: 4
Substance: 4

Author: Bill Webb and Clark Peterson
Publisher: Necromancer Games
Price: $9.99
ISBN: 1-58846-156-4
Product Code: WW8360
Pages: 48

I’ve lost count of how many different editions of Rappan Athuk have been released. In addition to the original trilogy, Rappan Athuk Reloaded was a boxed set that expanded the Dungeon of Graves even further. Frog God Games has produced versions for Pathfinder, 5E, and Swords & Wizardry. I think there was also an abortive attempt to adapt it for Dungeon Crawl Classics?

Rappan Athuk is probably my favorite published megadungeon. I’ve run the first level many times, but — despite a couple of attempts — never managed to run a truly successful campaign of the whole thing. Some of the very earliest material here on the Alexandrian was actually new material that I created for one of these abortive campaigns:

The Lost Goblins

Level 5a: The Caverns of Mist
Level 7B: The Ethereal Palace

Level 6 Mazes: 6-2A, 6-2B, 6-2C, 6-2D
Level 7 Mazes: 7A-A, 7A-B, 7A-C, 7A-D, 7A-E, 7A-F

One of these days I’ll probably revisit those campaign notes and restructure them into an open table. Flipping through them, I see that I also did a massive remix of Level 7, considerably expanding the mind flayers there. I wonder if anyone would be interested in seeing that?

For an explanation of where these reviews came from and why you can no longer find them at RPGNet, click here.

Although presenting a mystery which cannot be solved, The Murder of the Seven Points is probably worth checking out.

Review Originally Published October 1st, 2001

After initially being very enamored with the Adventure Boosters format pioneered by AEG, I found myself rapidly souring on the idea after a series of markedly lackluster efforts (my reviews can be found elsewhere on RPGNet by searching the Review Database). The Murder of the Seven Points offers some hope that the format will still realize its potential, but I remain skeptical.

PLOT

A series of grisly, ritualistic murders are being committed in a nameless city – and the PCs are drafted to help investigate them. Why, exactly, the PCs are singled out to help investigate the murders (rather than just patrol the streets like the other volunteers) is not exactly clear – but it appears that Yaple is attempting to provide an explanation by having the Captain of the Guard say: “You’re new in town. You couldn’t have committed the murders. I need your help.”

Okay, maybe I’m just needlessly paranoid: But if a bunch of strange murders started happening in my town (which is normally small and quiet) the first place I’d look would be recent arrivals. Looking for suspects I mean, not people to help with the investigation.

But I digress: The PCs go through a number of short scenes (checking out the murder scenes, interviewing family members, etc.), supposedly attempting to gather clues by which they will solve this mystery. In the end, though, they don’t really uncover all that much when it comes to valuable information. The next important plot point comes when the Captain of the Guard realizes he accidentally mixed up the order in which the murders took place – which makes it apparent that that murders are being committed in the pattern of a seven-pointed star.

While Yaple has a number of possible ways in which to explain why the Captain of the Guard might have gotten the order of the murders screwed up (perhaps the bodies were found out of order for some reason?), he instead decides to simply leave that as a Fact of Life™. Having concluded that this is all part of some sort of ritual, the Captain of the Guard will lead the PCs to a very specific scholar. They will have an unproductive conversation with that scholar – at which point we basically fast-forward to that evening, at which point that self-same scholar summons forth a demon and a Battle Royale ensues.

The PCs win (presumably). Roll credits.

CONCLUSION

In my opinion, The Murder of the Seven Points is not worth playing as it is written. To put it simply: It’s supposed to be a mystery; but it never lets the PCs solve anything.

But there’s a lot of interesting meat here which is being wasted: Yaple draws a number of interesting scenes and characters, and manages to evoke some rather effective images despite his railroaded plot. Essentially I would say that you need to do two things to make this playable:

1. Give the Captain of the Guards a solid reason to recruit the PCs into the investigation. (Simple solution: He’s heard about something heroic they’ve done in the past. He’s more than eager to accept their experienced help in strange matters like this.)

2. Strip out the railroading: Most notably, don’t obfuscate the order of the murders. Let the players figure out the seven-pointed star pattern for themselves. (And, if they don’t, then you can have someone point it out to them as the Big Deadline starts to approach.)

It’ll take a little bit of elbow grease, but I think there’s enough interesting material here to justify it considering the low price of admission.

Style: 4
Substance: 3

Author: Erik Yaple
Publisher: Alderac Entertainment Group
Line: D20
Price: $2.49
Year of Release: 2001
Product Code: 8312
Pages: 16

It turns out I’ve always been remixing adventures.

I did, in fact, give up on the AEG Adventure Booster series after this. That may have been a mistake, but at the time I had a single dedicated table and it was settling into a long-term campaign that had been pretty well mapped out, so I was no longer looking around for new D&D adventures to plug in.

Next AEG Booster Review: Castle Zadrian / Sundered Faith

For an explanation of where these reviews came from and why you can no longer find them at RPGNet, click here.

FD writes:

I really enjoy prepping the “macro” parts of my campaign, but I hate creating the “micro.”

I use your node-based scenario design. I understand the factions and the major characters. I like creating all the connections between these elements and I understand the conflicts and motivations that drive the campaign. But when I have to start creating specific scenarios, that’s where I get bogged down.

For example, in my prep there’s a Cultist Dungeon. I know what’s important there. I know the connections it makes and the conflicts and the characters and all that “macro” stuff. But when I need to actually write the dungeon — room by room, challenges, puzzles, battles — that’s where it hurts.

What am I doing wrong?

Writer’s block — which, ultimately, is what you’re experiencing — is a complex beast. There are a lot things that could be triggering it. A lot of reasons why you might be locking up or bogging down.

But here’s something you could try.

We’ll use dungeons as an example. You like creating the “macro-scale” stuff: Connections, factions, central conflicts, themes, etc. So instead of just leaving that stuff behind and flipping to a “micro” room-by-room approach, instead design your dungeons from the macro perspective.

For example, you know that this Cultist Dungeon connects to other stuff. I don’t know what that stuff is for your campaign, but let’s pretend that it’s:

• Goblin arms dealers are selling the cult arcane weapons.
• The cultists are seeking the Black Temple of L’rignak, lost for generations.
• The cult is blackmailing Lord Bluemoon.

For each of these connections, brainstorm one to three leads pointing to those connections. (Following the Three Clue Rule and Node-Based Scenario Design.) For example:

Goblin arms dealers are selling the cult arcane weapons.

• Goblin arms dealer is currently staying in a guest room.
• Crates of goblin weapons.
• A contract, invoice, or some other document, placed in an iron coffer with payment in gold.

Seeking the Black Temple of L’rignak.

• Region maps detailing the search.
• L’rignak lore books.
• A small shrine dedicated to L’rignak.

Blackmailing Lord Bluemoon.

• Correspondence with Bluemoon.
• The blackmail material implicating Bluemoon.
• Bluemoon or a messenger from Bluemoon visits the cultists.

In my experience, leads to connections are easy, so they’re a good place to start. But you want to do the same thing with the other macro-level stuff you’ve already designed.

Conflict: L’rignak cultists are being targeted by Holygold paladins.

• Holygold paladin being held prisoner, awaiting sacrifice.
• Several injured cultists being treated for injuries after being ambushed by Holygold paladins in the streets.

Theme: Redemption and temptation.

• One of the cultists is thinking about leaving the cult.
• The cult leader will suggest that the PCs should join the cult.

Once you’ve finished brainstorming this list, go through each element and think about where it would be located and how it would be protected. (The latter might be literal security measures, but could also be more abstract.)

• The paladin is being held prisoner, so the cult must have cells where she’s locked up. Protection: Guards for the prisoners.
• Documents would be kept in the cult leader’s office. Protection: Locked and warded door. Documents are kept in a safe. Cult leader is often here.
• Lorebooks might be in the library or maybe the cult’s sanctuary. Protection: The librarian, who’s actually a L’rignak daemon.
• The small shrine to L’rignak is… a small shring to L’rignak. Protection: Hidden behind a secret door.

And so forth. As you can see, some of this stuff will be obvious and some elements will naturally pair up and group together. There’s no need to complicate it.

If you organize these notes, you’ll find that you now have a list of rooms stocked with cool discoveries and interesting challenges, all of which great out of your macro elements. Review the list to see if there are any glaring functional gaps — e.g. do the cultists live here? if so, where do they sleep and eat and hang out? — and fill them.

Now that you’ve got a good list of rooms, all you need to do is draw a good map featuring those rooms and you’ll have a playable dungeon.

Of course, this advice applies to other scenario structures, too. Your macro prep has indicated a social event?

• What factions and NPCs are present at the event?
• What are their agendas?
• What connections does this event have to other elements in your campaign?
• What theme or themes can you emphasize at this event?
• What campaign-wide conflicts could be manifested during the event?

And so forth.

I don’t know if this, specifically, will be the right approach for you. But I think it’s more likely to keep your focused on the stuff you’re passionate about, and let the details of the scenario flow from that passion.

Go to Ask the Alexandrian #1

Go to Part 1

FEATURES OF CARCOSA

• “twin suns sink behind the lake” — “twin suns sink into the lake”
• “where black stars hang in the heavens” — “the night where black stars rise” — “the whole world bow to the black stars which hang in the sky over Carcosa”
• “strange moons circle through the skies”
• “the lake of Hali”
  • “along the shore the cloud waves break”
  • “the lakes which connect Hastur, Aldebaran, and the mystery of the Hyades”
  • “…but I saw the lake of Hali, thin and blank, without a ripple or wind to stir it…”
  • “I saw the black stars hanging in the heavens: and the wet winds from the lake of Hali chilled my face.”
  • “…outside the fog rolled against the blank window-panes as the cloud waves roll and break on the shores of Hali.”
• “I saw the towers of Carcosa behind the moon. Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”
  • And now, far away, over leagues of tossing cloud-waves, I saw the moon dripping with spray; and beyond, the towers of Carcosa rose behind the moon.
• “I remembered Camilla’s agonized scream and the awful words echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines in the first act…”
• In Cassilda’s Song described by the epithets Lost Carcosa, Dim Carcosa.
• “the cloudy depths of Demhe”
• “where flap the tatters of the King”
• “songs that the Hyades shall sing […] must die unheard in Dim Carcosa”
• “where the shadows of men’s thoughts lengthen in the afternoon”
• “the Dynasty in Carcosa” [which Castaigne and Wilde believe somehow came to Earth]
  • “the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones”
  • “he began the wonderful story of the Last King” [Wilde believes to be Louis and/or Castaigne]
  • “the people should know the son of Hastur”
  • “King by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades”

FEATURES OF THE PLAY

• “Cassilda’s Song” appears in Act I, Scene 2
• “the very banality and innocence of the first act only allowed the blow to fall afterward to more awful effect”
• “No definite principles had been violated in those wicked pages, no doctrine promulgated, no convictions outraged.”
• “I remembered Camilla’s agonized scream and the awful words echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines in the first act…”
• “I thought, too, of the King in Yellow wrapped in the fantastic colours of his tattered mantle, and that bitter cry of Cassilda, “Not upon us, oh King, not upon us!””
• “I thought of The King in Yellow and the Pallid Mask.”
  • “my mind will bear forever the memory of the Pallid Mask”
  • “we murmured to each other of the King and the Pallid Mask”
• “we spoke of Hastur and Cassilda” [after reading the play]

EFFECTS OF READING THE PLAY

• “my eyes became riveted to the open page [at the beginning of Act 2], and with a cry of terror, or perhaps it was of joy so poignant that I suffered in every nerve, I snatched the thing out of the coals”
• “the book spread like an infectious disease, from city to city, from continent to continent”
• “For those poisoned words had dropped slowly into my heart, as death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheet and is absorbed.”
• “…a mind benumbed and yet acutely sensitive (…) for I had been reading The King in Yellow”
• “She seemed dazed, and when I told her to lie down on the sofa she obeyed me without a word. After a while she closed her eyes and her breathing became regular and deep, but I could not determine whether or not she slept. For a long while I sat silently beside her, but she neither stirred nor spoke, and at last I rose, and, entering the unused store-room, took the book in my least injured hand. It seemed heavy as lead, but I carried it into the studio again, and sitting down on the rug beside the sofa, opened it and read it through from beginning to end.When, faint with excess of my emotions, I dropped the volume and leaned wearily back against the sofa, Tessie opened her eyes and looked at me.”
• “I knew that she knew and read my thoughts as I read hers, for we had understood the mystery of the Hyades and the Phantom of Truth was laid.”

PROPER NAMES

Alar

• “Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”

Aldebaran

• “When from Carcosa, the Hyades, Hastur, and Aldebaran…” [opening line of Imperial Dynasty of America]
• “…the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades…”
• “Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”
• See Hyades, below.

Aldones

• “Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones…”

Camilla

• Speaks to the Stranger in Act I, Scene of The King in Yellow.
• “I remembered Camilla’s agonized scream and the awful words echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines in the first act…”
• “He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali.”

Carcosa

• A city. See Features of Carcosa, above.

Cassilda

• Sings a song in Act I, Scene 2 of The King in Yellow.
• “He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali.”
• “…that bitter cry of Cassilda, ‘Not upon us, oh King, not upon us!’”

Demhe

• “He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali.”

Dynasty in Carcosa

• See Features of Carcosa, above.

Hali

• A lake in Carcosa, where “the cloud waves break.”
• “where the twin suns sink into the lake of Hali”
• “He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali.”
• “At last I was King, King by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades, and my mind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I was King!”
• “…I saw the lake of Hali, thin and blank, without a ripple or wind to stir it…”
• “I saw the black stars hanging in the heavens: and the wet winds from the lake of Hali chilled my face.”
• “…outside the fog rolled against the blank window-panes as the cloud waves roll and break on the shores of Hali.”

Hastur

• “When from Carcosa, the Hyades, Hastur, and Aldebaran…” [opening line of Imperial Dynasty of America]
• “I [Castaigne] thought of Hastur and of my own rightful ambition…”
• “…the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades…”
• “the people should know the son of Hastur” (See Imperial Dynasty of America, below.)
• “At last I was King, King by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades, and my mind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I was King!”
• “Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”

Hyades

• “songs that the Hyades shall sing, where flap the tatters of the King, must die unheard in Dim Carcosa”
• “When from Carcosa, the Hyades, Hastur, and Aldebaran…” [opening line of Imperial Dynasty of America]
• “…the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades…”
• “At last I was King, King by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades, and my mind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I was King!”
• “Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”
• “I knew that she knew and read my thoughts as I read hers, for we had understood the mystery of the Hyades and the Phantom of Truth was laid.”

Imperial Dynasty of America

• A text written by Mr. Wilde (“The Repairer of Reputations”).
• “…from the beginning, ‘When from Carcosa, the Hyades, Hastur, and Aldebaran,’ to ‘Castaigne, Louis de Calvados, born December 19^th, 1877…’” Also: “‘Hildred de Calvados, only son of Hildred Castaigne and Edythe Landes Castaigne, first in succession,’ etc. etc.”
• “Mr. Wilde explained the manuscript, using several volumes on Heraldry, to substantiate the result of his researches. He mentioned the establishment of the Dynasty in Carcosa, the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades. He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali. “The scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtill forever,” he muttered, but I do not believe Vance heard him. Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones, and then tossing aside his manuscript and notes, he began the wonderful story of the Last King.”
• “the people should know the son of Hastur”
• “Woe! woe to you who are crowned with the crown of the King in Yellow!”

King in Yellow [play]

• See Features of the Play, above.

King in Yellow [individual]

• [of Castaigne’s crown] “The King in Yellow might scorn it, but it shall be worn by his royal servant.”
• “The scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtill forever…”
• “Woe! woe to you who are crowned with the crown of the King in Yellow!” (See Imperial Dynasty of America, above.)
• “…the King in Yellow wrapped in the fantastic colours of his tattered mantle…”
• “Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.”
• “Death and the awful abode of lost souls, whither my weakness long ago had sent him, had changed him for every other eye but mine. And now I heard his voice, rising, swelling, thundering through the flaring light, and as I fell, the radiance increasing, increasing, poured over me in waves of flame. Then I sank into the depths, and I heard the King in Yellow whispering to my soul: ‘It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!’”
• “…but still we murmured to each other of the King and the Pallid Mask.”
• “Then, as I fell, I heard Tessie’s soft cry and her spirit fled: and even while falling I longed to follow her, for I knew that the King in Yellow had opened his tattered mantle and there was only God to cry to now.” [this said as the dead man comes for the Yellow Sign]

Naotalba

• “Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones…”

Pallid Mask

• “I thought of The King in Yellow and the Pallid Mask.” — “my mind will bear forever the memory of the Pallid Mask”;
• “…every man whose name was there had received the Yellow Sign which no living human being dared disregard. The city, the state, the whole land, were ready to rise and tremble before the Pallid Mask.”
• “…but still we murmured to each other of the King and the Pallid Mask.”

Phantom of Truth

• “Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones…”
• “I knew that she knew and read my thoughts as I read hers, for we had understood the mystery of the Hyades and the Phantom of Truth was laid.”

Phantom of the Past. In “The Prophets’ Paradise,” which is otherwise not directly related to the Yellow Sign mythos, Chambers speaks of the Phantom of the Past.

Stranger

• Speaks to Camilla in Act I, Scene 2 of The King in Yellow.

Thale

• “Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones…”

Uoht

• “Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones…”

Yellow Sign

• “taking with me the jewelled crown and the silken robe embroidered with the Yellow Sign”
• “…every man whose name was there had received the Yellow Sign which no living human being dared disregard. The city, the state, the whole land, were ready to rise and tremble before the Pallid Mask.”
• “Then I unfolded a scroll marked with the Yellow Sign. He saw the sign, but he did not seem to recognize it, and I called his attention to it somewhat sharply.”
• “Have you found the Yellow Sign?”
• “On the pink cotton inside lay a clasp of black onyx, on which was inlaid a curious symbol or letter in gold. It was neither Arabic nor Chinese, nor, as I found afterwards, did it belong to any human script.” [The onyx clasp causes strange dreams and attracts a man long dead in “The Yellow Sign.”]

Yhtill

• “The scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtill forever…”

SOURCES OF THE NAMES

The notes below constitute a cursory research into the potential antecedents for the various proper names given above. Many of these are just curiosities and should not, with the exception of astronomical names and the names taken from Ambrose Bierce, be considered an assertion of a name’s source. In most cases, it’s more than likely that Chambers simply invented these names.

Alar: An obscure English word meaning “of or pertaining to wings” (OED). From which, an “alar prolongation,” which is a tapering extension of the cavity within a foraminifera’s shell, usually overlapping but sometimes distorting the creature’s whorls. The name also appears as the middle name of the protagonist in Ambrose Bierce’s “An Inhabitant of Carcosa.” The titular Count Alarcos in Benjamin Disraeli’s Count Alarcos: A Tragedy (1839, first performed 1868) was abbreviated as “Alar” in the speech headings of 19^th century editions.

Aldebaran: A star taking its name from the Arabic “al Dabarān,” meaning “follower,” because it seems to follow the Pleiades. It has the appearance of being the brightest star among the Hyades, but we now know it to be unrelated and much older than the Hyades. In 1888, it was discovered to have a binary companion.

Aldones: The Lombards referred to aldermen as “aldones,” apparently detailed in the Origo Gentis Langobardorum. This is mentioned in Charles Oman’s Periods of European History (476-918), p. 182, published in 1893.

Camilla: A common name of probably Etruscan origin. Passing through Latin, it can be found throughout Europe. A Camilla notably appears as a Volsci warrior princess in Virgil’s Aeneid, The name was popularized in English by Frances Burney’s immensely popular novel Camilla: A Picture of Youth (1796). Camilla Urso was a famous 19^th-century child prodigy violinist who emigrated to America from France and toured the country extensively from 1855 until she retired in 1895, the same year that Chambers’ The King in Yellow was published.

Carcosa: Taken from Ambrose Bierce’s “An Inhabitant of Carcosa,” where it is the home town of a recently deceased (and disoriented) ghost. (The ghost also sees Aldebaran and the Hyades in the sky “through a sudden rift in the clouds.”)

Cassilda: A common name popular in Spain, possibly of Arabic or Visigothic origin. Saint Casilda of Toledo was a Moorish princess and a locus for a miracle of roses. Cassilda, ou La princesse maure de Tolède by M. L’Abbè G.A.L. was a popular French novel reputedly published in Tours in 1878 (although advertised as available for sale in the back of an 1873 novel) and republished in several editions throughout the late 19^th century.

Demhe: No known antecedents, although it does appear to be a rare word in 19^th century German texts.

Hali: Taken from Ambrose Bierce’s “An Inhabitant of Carcosa,” where it’s the name of a fictional philosopher.

Hastur: Taken from Amrbose Bierce’s “Haita the Shepherd,” where Hastur is the “god of shepherds.” Chambers also gives the name to an attendant in “The Demoiselle d’Ys.”

Hyades (astronomy): The nearest open star cluster. From Earth it appears in the constellation Taurus, with its brightest stars forming a “V” in combination with Aldebaran. (Aldebaran is located much closer to Earth.)

Hyades (mythology): In Greek myth, the Hyades were the daughters of Atlas (their mother(s) being one of the Oceanid nymphs). Also known as the Rainy Ones. Their names and number are variable. Their brother, Hyas, was a hunter slain by his prey. Their ceaseless weeping for their brother caused Zeus to raise them into the sky as stars. Before their uplifting, they were tutors or nursemaids or consorts of Dionysus. (In some myths, Dionysus gave them the gift of immortality.) Dionysus was, of course, a god associated with masks.

Naotalba: No known antecedents.

Thale: Thales of Miletus was one of the Seven Sages who founded Ancient Greece. “Thale” also means “valley” in German, as well as being the name of a small German town.

Uoht: Likely invented by Chambers. And 1879 article by Rev. Daniel Henry Baigh in the Yorkshire Archaeological and Topological Journal regarding “Yorkshire [Tide] Dials” claims that “uoht” is Old German for the “third tide” at “the beginning of the morning.” There’s no reason to suspect that Chambers knew this.

Yhtill: No known antecedents.

I’m currently doing a deep dive into the mythology of the Yellow Sign and the King in Yellow. Originally created by Robert W. Chambers for his 1895 short story collection The King in Yellow, they were later adopted into the Mythos by H.P. Lovecraft. Like most elements of the Mythos, they have spilled out in a multitude of variations.

I decided that I wanted to really lock down my personal understanding of Chambers’ original mythology, sort of “unsullied” by the work of later authors. To that end, after reading Chambers’ collection, I went back through his stories and pulled out all the “facts” (or, perhaps more accurately, references) pertaining to the underlying mythology. Then I thought other people might find it useful, so I’m sharing it here.

There are five key works:

• “Cassilda’s Song” (reproduced in its entirety below)
• “The Repairer of Reputations”
• “The Mask”
• “In the Court of the Dragon”
• “The Yellow Sign”

The first section provides excerpts from these stories, which are then followed by a topical breakdown.

If you want to read The King in Yellow for yourself (which I heartily encourage you to do), you can find it at the Gutenberg Project. If you want to do an even deeper dive, I recommend Kenneth Hite’s excellent Annotated King in Yellow. You might also enjoy checking out The Hastur Collection, which, edited by Robert M. Price, collects a number of key post-Chambers stories in the evolution of the King in Yellow mythology.

FRAGMENTS OF THE PLAY

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CASSILDA’S SONG

Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen

In Carcosa.

Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is

Lost Carcosa.

Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in

Dim Carcosa.

Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in

Lost Carcosa.

Cassilda’s Song in “The King in Yellow,” Act I, Scene 2.

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EXCERPT FROM “THE MASK”

Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.

Stranger: Indeed?

Cassilda: Indeed it’s time. We all have laid aside disguise but you.

Stranger: I wear no mask.

Camilla: (terrified, aside to Cassilda) No mask? No mask!

The King in Yellow, Act I, Scene 2

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EXCERPTS FROM “THE REPAIRER OF REPUTATIONS”

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During my convalescence I had bought and read for the first time, The King in Yellow. I remember after finishing the first act that it occurred to me that I had better stop. I started up and flung the book into the fireplace; the volume struck the barred grate and fell open on the hearth in the firelight. If I had not caught a glimpse of the opening words in the second act I should never have finished it, but as I stooped to pick it up, my eyes became riveted to the open page, and with a cry of terror, or perhaps it was of joy so poignant that I suffered in every nerve, I snatched the thing out of the coals and crept shaking to my bedroom, where I read it and reread it, and wept and laughed and trembled with a horror which at times assails me yet. This is the thing that troubles me, for I cannot forget Carcosa where black stars hang in the heavens; where the shadows of men’s thoughts lengthen in the afternoon, when the twin suns sink into the lake of Hali; and my mind will bear forever the memory of the Pallid Mask. I pray God will curse the writer, as the writer has cursed the world with this beautiful, stupendous creation, terrible in its simplicity, irresistible in its truth—a world which now trembles before the King in Yellow. When the French Government seized the translated copies which had just arrived in Paris, London, of course, became eager to read it. It is well known how the book spread like an infectious disease, from city to city, from continent to continent, barred out here, confiscated there, denounced by Press and pulpit, censured even by the most advanced of literary anarchists. No definite principles had been violated in those wicked pages, no doctrine promulgated, no convictions outraged. It could not be judged by any known standard, yet, although it was acknowledged that the supreme note of art had been struck in The King in Yellow, all felt that human nature could not bear the strain, nor thrive on words in which the essence of purest poison lurked. The very banality and innocence of the first act only allowed the blow to fall afterward with more awful effect.

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THE IMPERIAL DYNASTY OF AMERICA. One by one I studied the well-worn pages, worn only by my own handling, and although I knew all by heart, from the beginning, “When from Carcosa, the Hyades, Hastur, and Aldebaran,” to “Castaigne, Louis de Calvados, born December 19th, 1877,” I read it with an eager, rapt attention, pausing to repeat parts of it aloud, and dwelling especially on “Hildred de Calvados, only son of Hildred Castaigne and Edythe Landes Castaigne, first in succession,” etc., etc.

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I know what the massive safe holds secure for me, for me alone, and the exquisite pleasure of waiting is hardly enhanced when the safe opens and I lift, from its velvet crown, a diadem of purest gold, blazing with diamonds. I do this every day, and yet the joy of waiting and at last touching again the diadem, only seems to increase as the days pass. It is a diadem fit for a King among kings, an Emperor among emperors. The King in Yellow might scorn it, but it shall be worn by his royal servant. (…) I was glad he thought the crown was made of brass and paste, yet I didn’t like him any the better for thinking so. I let him take it from my hand, knowing it was best to humour him.

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One morning early in May I stood before the steel safe in my bedroom, trying on the golden jewelled crown. The diamonds flashed fire as I turned to the mirror, and the heavy beaten gold burned like a halo about my head. I remembered Camilla’s agonized scream and the awful words echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines in the first act, and I dared not think of what followed—dared not, even in the spring sunshine, there in my own room, surrounded with familiar objects, reassured by the bustle from the street and the voices of the servants in the hallway outside. For those poisoned words had dropped slowly into my heart, as death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheet and is absorbed. Trembling, I put the diadem from my head and wiped my forehead, but I thought of Hastur and of my own rightful ambition, and I remembered Mr. Wilde as I had last left him, his face all torn and bloody from the claws of that devil’s creature, and what he said—ah, what he said.

---

“I wish they were bound in gold,” I said. “But wait, yes, there is another book, The King in Yellow.” I looked him steadily in the eye.

“Have you never read it?” I asked.

“I? No, thank God! I don’t want to be driven crazy.”

I saw he regretted his speech as soon as he had uttered it. There is only one word which I loathe more than I do lunatic and that word is crazy. But I controlled myself and asked him why he thought The King in Yellow dangerous.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, hastily. “I only remember the excitement it created and the denunciations from pulpit and Press. I believe the author shot himself after bringing forth this monstrosity, didn’t he?”

“I understand he is still alive,” I answered.

“That’s probably true,” he muttered; “bullets couldn’t kill a fiend like that.”

“It is a book of great truths,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied, “of ‘truths’ which send men frantic and blast their lives. I don’t care if the thing is, as they say, the very supreme essence of art. It’s a crime to have written it, and I for one shall never open its pages.””

(…)

“I gave him ten minutes to disappear and then followed in his footsteps, taking with me the jewelled crown and the silken robe embroidered with the Yellow Sign.”

---

Mr. Wilde explained the manuscript, using several volumes on Heraldry, to substantiate the result of his researches. He mentioned the establishment of the Dynasty in Carcosa, the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades. He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali. “The scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtill forever,” he muttered, but I do not believe Vance heard him. Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones, and then tossing aside his manuscript and notes, he began the wonderful story of the Last King. Fascinated and thrilled I watched him. He threw up his head, his long arms were stretched out in a magnificent gesture of pride and power, and his eyes blazed deep in their sockets like two emeralds. Vance listened stupefied. As for me, when at last Mr. Wilde had finished, and pointing to me, cried, “The cousin of the King!” my head swam with excitement.

---

I showed him a list of thousands of names which Mr. Wilde had drawn up; every man whose name was there had received the Yellow Sign which no living human being dared disregard. The city, the state, the whole land, were ready to rise and tremble before the Pallid Mask.

The time had come, the people should know the son of Hastur, and the whole world bow to the black stars which hang in the sky over Carcosa.

---

Then I unfolded a scroll marked with the Yellow Sign. He saw the sign, but he did not seem to recognize it, and I called his attention to it somewhat sharply.

“Well,” he said, “I see it. What is it?”

“It is the Yellow Sign,” I said angrily.

“Oh, that’s it, is it?” said Louis…

---

Then I drew on the white silk robe, embroidered with the Yellow Sign, and placed the crown upon my head. At last I was King, King by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades, and my mind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I was King!

---

“Ah! I see it now!” I shrieked. “You have seized the throne and the empire. Woe! woe to you who are crowned with the crown of the King in Yellow!”

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EXCERPTS FROM “THE MASK”

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Alas! I had found The King in Yellow. After a few moments, which seemed ages, I was putting it away with a nervous shudder, when Boris and Jack came in bringing their marble rabbit.

---

The last thing I recollect with any distinctness was hearing Jack say, “For Heaven’s sake, doctor, what ails him, to wear a face like that?” and I thought of The King in Yellow and the Pallid Mask. I was very ill, for the strain of two years which I had endured since that fatal May morning when Geneviève murmured, “I love you, but I think I love Boris best,” told on me at last.

---

Never in word or deed or thought while with them had I betrayed my sorrow even to myself.

The mask of self-deception was no longer a mask for me, it was a part of me. Night lifted it, laying bare the stifled truth below; but there was no one to see except myself, and when the day broke the mask fell back again of its own accord. These thoughts passed through my troubled mind as I lay sick, but they were hopelessly entangled with visions of white creatures, heavy as stone, crawling about in Boris’ basin,—of the wolf’s head on the rug, foaming and snapping at Geneviève, who lay smiling beside it. I thought, too, of the King in Yellow wrapped in the fantastic colours of his tattered mantle, and that bitter cry of Cassilda, “Not upon us, oh King, not upon us!” Feverishly I struggled to put it from me, but I saw the lake of Hali, thin and blank, without a ripple or wind to stir it, and I saw the towers of Carcosa behind the moon. Aldebaran, the Hyades, Alar, Hastur, glided through the cloud-rifts which fluttered and flapped as they passed like the scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow.

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EXCERPTS FROM “IN THE COURT OF THE DRAGON”

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I was worn out by three nights of physical suffering and mental trouble: the last had been the worst, and it was an exhausted body, and a mind benumbed and yet acutely sensitive, which I had brought to my favourite church for healing. For I had been reading The King in Yellow.

---

I crept to the door: the organ broke out overhead with a blare. A dazzling light filled the church, blotting the altar from my eyes. The people faded away, the arches, the vaulted roof vanished. I raised my seared eyes to the fathomless glare, and I saw the black stars hanging in the heavens: and the wet winds from the lake of Hali chilled my face.

And now, far away, over leagues of tossing cloud-waves, I saw the moon dripping with spray; and beyond, the towers of Carcosa rose behind the moon.

Death and the awful abode of lost souls, whither my weakness long ago had sent him, had changed him for every other eye but mine. And now I heard his voice, rising, swelling, thundering through the flaring light, and as I fell, the radiance increasing, increasing, poured over me in waves of flame. Then I sank into the depths, and I heard the King in Yellow whispering to my soul: “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!”

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EXCERPTS FROM “THE YELLOW SIGN”

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For some time I tossed about the bed trying to get the sound of his voice out of my ears, but could not. It filled my head, that muttering sound, like thick oily smoke from a fat-rendering vat or an odour of noisome decay. And as I lay and tossed about, the voice in my ears seemed more distinct, and I began to understand the words he had muttered. They came to me slowly as if I had forgotten them, and at last I could make some sense out of the sounds. It was this:

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

I was furious. What did he mean by that? Then with a curse upon him and his I rolled over and went to sleep, but when I awoke later I looked pale and haggard, for I had dreamed the dream of the night before, and it troubled me more than I cared to think.

---

I opened the box. On the pink cotton inside lay a clasp of black onyx, on which was inlaid a curious symbol or letter in gold. It was neither Arabic nor Chinese, nor, as I found afterwards, did it belong to any human script.

“It’s all I had to give you for a keepsake,” she said timidly.

I was annoyed, but I told her how much I should prize it, and promised to wear it always. She fastened it on my coat beneath the lapel.

“How foolish, Tess, to go and buy me such a beautiful thing as this,” I said.

“I did not buy it,” she laughed.

“Where did you get it?”

Then she told me how she had found it one day while coming from the Aquarium in the Battery, how she had advertised it and watched the papers, but at last gave up all hopes of finding the owner.

“That was last winter,” she said, “the very day I had the first horrid dream about the hearse.”

I remembered my dream of the previous night but said nothing, and presently my charcoal was flying over a new canvas, and Tessie stood motionless on the model-stand.

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“The King in Yellow.”

I was dumbfounded. Who had placed it there? How came it in my rooms? I had long ago decided that I should never open that book, and nothing on earth could have persuaded me to buy it. Fearful lest curiosity might tempt me to open it, I had never even looked at it in book-stores. If I ever had had any curiosity to read it, the awful tragedy of young Castaigne, whom I knew, prevented me from exploring its wicked pages. I had always refused to listen to any description of it, and indeed, nobody ever ventured to discuss the second part aloud, so I had absolutely no knowledge of what those leaves might reveal. I stared at the poisonous mottled binding as I would at a snake.

“Don’t touch it, Tessie,” I said; “come down.”

Of course my admonition was enough to arouse her curiosity, and before I could prevent it she took the book and, laughing, danced off into the studio with it. I called to her, but she slipped away with a tormenting smile at my helpless hands, and I followed her with some impatience.

“Tessie!” I cried, entering the library, “listen, I am serious. Put that book away. I do not wish you to open it!” The library was empty. I went into both drawing-rooms, then into the bedrooms, laundry, kitchen, and finally returned to the library and began a systematic search. She had hidden herself so well that it was half-an-hour later when I discovered her crouching white and silent by the latticed window in the store-room above. At the first glance I saw she had been punished for her foolishness. The King in Yellow lay at her feet, but the book was open at the second part. I looked at Tessie and saw it was too late. She had opened The King in Yellow. Then I took her by the hand and led her into the studio. She seemed dazed, and when I told her to lie down on the sofa she obeyed me without a word. After a while she closed her eyes and her breathing became regular and deep, but I could not determine whether or not she slept. For a long while I sat silently beside her, but she neither stirred nor spoke, and at last I rose, and, entering the unused store-room, took the book in my least injured hand. It seemed heavy as lead, but I carried it into the studio again, and sitting down on the rug beside the sofa, opened it and read it through from beginning to end.

When, faint with excess of my emotions, I dropped the volume and leaned wearily back against the sofa, Tessie opened her eyes and looked at me.

*****

We had been speaking for some time in a dull monotonous strain before I realized that we were discussing The King in Yellow. Oh the sin of writing such words,—words which are clear as crystal, limpid and musical as bubbling springs, words which sparkle and glow like the poisoned diamonds of the Medicis! Oh the wickedness, the hopeless damnation of a soul who could fascinate and paralyze human creatures with such words,—words understood by the ignorant and wise alike, words which are more precious than jewels, more soothing than music, more awful than death!

We talked on, unmindful of the gathering shadows, and she was begging me to throw away the clasp of black onyx quaintly inlaid with what we now knew to be the Yellow Sign. I never shall know why I refused, though even at this hour, here in my bedroom as I write this confession, I should be glad to know what it was that prevented me from tearing the Yellow Sign from my breast and casting it into the fire. I am sure I wished to do so, and yet Tessie pleaded with me in vain. Night fell and the hours dragged on, but still we murmured to each other of the King and the Pallid Mask, and midnight sounded from the misty spires in the fog-wrapped city. We spoke of Hastur and of Cassilda, while outside the fog rolled against the blank window-panes as the cloud waves roll and break on the shores of Hali.

The house was very silent now, and not a sound came up from the misty streets. Tessie lay among the cushions, her face a grey blot in the gloom, but her hands were clasped in mine, and I knew that she knew and read my thoughts as I read hers, for we had understood the mystery of the Hyades and the Phantom of Truth was laid. Then as we answered each other, swiftly, silently, thought on thought, the shadows stirred in the gloom about us, and far in the distant streets we heard a sound. Nearer and nearer it came, the dull crunching of wheels, nearer and yet nearer, and now, outside before the door it ceased, and I dragged myself to the window and saw a black-plumed hearse. The gate below opened and shut, and I crept shaking to my door and bolted it, but I knew no bolts, no locks, could keep that creature out who was coming for the Yellow Sign. And now I heard him moving very softly along the hall. Now he was at the door, and the bolts rotted at his touch. Now he had entered. With eyes starting from my head I peered into the darkness, but when he came into the room I did not see him. It was only when I felt him envelope me in his cold soft grasp that I cried out and struggled with deadly fury, but my hands were useless and he tore the onyx clasp from my coat and struck me full in the face. Then, as I fell, I heard Tessie’s soft cry and her spirit fled: and even while falling I longed to follow her, for I knew that the King in Yellow had opened his tattered mantle and there was only God to cry to now.

I could tell more, but I cannot see what help it will be to the world. As for me, I am past human help or hope. As I lie here, writing, careless even whether or not I die before I finish, I can see the doctor gathering up his powders and phials with a vague gesture to the good priest beside me, which I understand.

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Go to Part 2: Carcosa and the Play