J&L: Emissary of the Eldritch (11)

PGL: "I've been wondering about these corridors we're racing through..."

HGJ: "Save your architectural admiration until we're all out of harms way."

PGL: "It's just... if Valgthoth is an entity embodying chaos and thus not a strictly physical presence, who built all this, and for what purpose?"

Guide: "These profane hallways were constructed by the acolytes, what you refer to as frogmen. Poor lost souls who succumbed to the dark forces of this realm. Twisted beyond recognition, they are little more than beasts. As for why they built these structures, who can say? Some think it to be in veneration of their supposed God. Others, that some vestigial memories of home call to them."

HGJ: "Poor devils."

Guide: "It is a tormented existence, bound to the will of Valgthoth. Indirectly, of course."

PGL: "Similar to the immune system then? They fight off infections and preserve the host, without the host directly controlling it?"

Guide: "Exactly. Now, enough chat. If I recall, the courtyard is through here... A-ha!"

PGL: "There's Professor Fenchurch!"

HGJ: "And he's holding Howie by the scruff of the neck. By jingo the kid is still kicking, that's the spirit."

PGL: "Who are those other two, they seem to be bound together and unconscious?"

Guide: "That would be the boy's mother and grandfather. Fenchurch is using them as insurance, holding their lives in his hand to force the boy to comply. An effective strategy."

PGL: "He intends to what, sacrifice Howard to Valgthoth?"

Guide: "In a manner of speaking. There's something in the boy's bloodline, some latent link that makes him sensitive to the arcane realms. Spilling that blood, in the sanctum of Valgthoth's realm, would be a large enough source of power to draw his attention towards Earth. No doubt Fenchurch believes his God will purify a corrupt world. Fool. Valgthoth cares not for our morals, he will only devour."

HGJ: "Then we've got to act now, to save Howie!"

PGL: "We can't just race in. He's got the boy in the centre of the courtyard, at least twenty yards away. But look around, skulking in the archways around the circumference, there must be dozens of the frogmen, all watching, waiting, and ready to strike."

HGJ: "We've got to do something. But how? There's no way we can take on that many foes, all at once."

Guide: "I have an idea. I can distract them, keep them from interfering, but you two must be ready to rush in."

PGL: "You can't seriously expect to hold off all of them?!"

Guide: "In fact, I do. I can cast a ward of protection around the courtyard, an impenetrable circle of fire, provided I'm not disturbed. It'll require my undivided attention to maintain the barrier, so you'll have to act alone."

HGJ: "If you're sure then. Thank you, and good luck."

Guide: "Be ready... Once I begin you'll lose the element of surprise... here goes nothing!"

PGL: "Quickly Henry!"

HGJ: "Right you are George!"

PAF: "What the...?! Acolytes, attack! What sorcery is this? I don't need their help anyway. Oh, very well, stop right there, both of you!"

HGJ: "Not blooming likely."

PAF: "Stop, or the child dies. That's it, much more civilized. Now then, Litefoot, I didn't take you for the conjuring sort. How did you create the barrier?"

PGL: "Funny, I didn't take you for the devil worshipping sort. You really never can tell, can you?"

PAF: "Droll, to the end, George. It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does. Not in the cruel cesspool which we all hail from: a world of violence, drugs, sins of pleasure and excess, disease and famine. Soon, the great cleanser will wipe away the scum of the Earth."

HGJ: "Then let him start with you. You disgust me. You dare to rave about cruelty while threatening the life of a child?"

PAF: "You're wrong. Absolutely. Because I don't threaten. Watch."

HGJ: "No!"

PGL: "Howard!"

HGJ: "You stabbed him!"

PAF: "And now I drop him. Right in the centre of this circle of power, where his blood can seep into the foundation stones of this paradise. It is done."

HGJ: "Rrrrrraghhhh!"

PAF: "Get off me, you ignorant oaf."

PGL: "Oh, Howard. Hold on, I've got you. Gently now, let me get a look at that wound. It's bad, but not as bad as I feared. The blade pierced the abdomen, but seems to have missed all major organs. Lots of blood though. Let's see if we can't staunch that flow, shall we?"

HGJ: "You vile cove! You brigand! How could you?!"

PAF: "Come now, all things die, it is the natural way. All I've done is accelerate the process. Unhand me before I am compelled to do something uncouth."

PGL: "*inwardly* Oh Henry. I wish I could help you in your struggle, but if I don't keep pressure on this wound, Howard will die. I'm not even sure if I can save him as is."

HGJ: "What's the matter, getting tired? Oh, my you're strong for a bookworm."

PAF: "Your ceaseless prattle won't save you from my blade. I've had enough of your tiresome interference. Be gone!"

HGJ: "Ugh!"

PGL: "No, Jago!"

HGJ: "Oof, that smarts. Slit me right across my palm. Aahhh, the pain. Bloody stings that."

PAF: "There's more where that came from, I assure you. But now, behold! The Absent Lord awakes from his slumber! Feel the quaking below, gaze upwards into the infinite majesty, see how the sky blazes with radiant light!"

HGJ: "Looks more like a tear to me. A great and terrible rending of the heavens."

PGL: "No, not a tear. Look closer, it's cracking open... it's an eyelid!"

HGJ: "Gracious! An enormous eye, filling the very sky itself."

PAF: "God gazes upon us! The reckoning cometh!"

HGJ: "I wouldn't count on it, Professor. You've made a fatal mistake, turning your blade on me."

PAF: "What are you playing at?"

HGJ: "I don't claim to understand much of what's going on here, but I'm willing to bet that the man upstairs won't take kindly to your offering if it's tainted."

PAF: "What? No, you don't know what you're doing! Stop!"

HGJ: "You cut my palm wide open, I'm just letting the blood fall... where it can mix with Howard's."

PGL: "Good show Henry, dilute Fenchurch's offering. I doubt Valgthoth will be best pleased if he feels cheated."

PAF: "My Lord, I am sorry! These heathens have spoiled the sacrifice I've laid before you, but I can redeem myself. I shall bring you a hundred more, nay, a thousand. I'll find others, with a lineage as powerful as the boy's. I... urk.... no.... please!"

HGJ: "How revolting."

PGL: "His skin is flaking, falling away like ash, revealing... are those scales?"

Guide: "Watch as his limbs twist and grow, his teeth lengthen and his body becomes... amphibious. I told you, the acolytes are the unfortunate who succumb to the powers of this realm."

HGJ: "Well, he deserves everything that comes to him. George, how's poor Howie?"

PGL: "He's in a bad way. A very bad way. I'm not sure what else I can do."

HGJ: "Then we've failed him."

Guide: "Not quite, gentlemen. Allow me to share a little more energy. Just enough of a healing force to knit the wound back together. We have a few moments before the acolytes attack. They feel compelled to venerate their God first."

PGL: "The marvels you can perform, whoever you are."

Guide: "Healing the boy is not difficult. It helps that our destinies are entwined, in a manner of speaking."

HGJ: "More riddles."

Guide: "It is done. He will need rest, but he will heal, in time. At least, his body will. The mind is a more fragile thing. I've left him in an amnesiac state, to spare him the exact trauma of the day. But his dreams will remain haunted by flashes of this nightmare. His guardians too will not retain their memories. The human brain has a propensity to filter out anything that does not conform to its expectations of reality. Most live in a blissful ignorance."

PGL: "How do we escape? And hasn't Valgthoth's attention been drawn to Earth? We have to stop him."

Guide: "We couldn't even if we wanted to. He is a foe beyond any of us. The best we can do is destroy the book. Break the link between both worlds, and cut off this avenue."

HGJ: "Will that really work?"

Guide: "To a point. It prevents him from crossing over using this gateway. But there will be others like Fenchurch. There always are. We have done all we can. What happens in other places and times, we cannot control."

PGL: "Did you say other times?"

Guide: "Yes. Time flows differently here, outside of the laws of relative causality. In this realm, moments are simultaneous, not concurrent. Now, we must act. Litefoot, fetch the book."

PGL: "Here it is. Now what?"

Guide: "Open it, and set it down by the mother."

HGJ: "It worked, the portal opened again."

PGL: "I trust it leads back to the bookshop, and not some other foul dimension?"

Guide: "No need to worry. It's quite safe. As safe as anything can be when dealing with incomprehensible forces. Let's start by sending the two adults through."

HGJ: "OK Litefoot. I've got Howie. His guardians have been safely sent away, so now we should follow before the frogmen come to their senses."

PGL: "A moment, Jago. I have to ask, one more time. Who is our mysterious guide? How does he know so much,and why is he so eager to help us?"

Guide: "Have you really not worked it out? I told you already, that time works differently here. I know what happens, because for me it's already happened. My name is Lovecraft. Howard Phillip Lovecraft."

HGJ: "*spluttering* But... what... how.... I don't follow."

Guide: "It's alright Henry. You don't need to. Just think of me as a guide."

HGJ: "But, I'm holding you as a lad. And you're standing before me..."

Guide: "Time travel has always been possible in dreams."

PGL: "Let's not fret over it Henry. A good stuff drink in the Red Tavern should help you collect your thoughts. Howard, I thank you."

Guide: "Don't thank me. You're the ones who found me, cared for me, and reunited me with my dear mother. All I've don't is aid myself."

PGL: "I suppose this is goodbye then? We travel through the gateway, then burn the book, and that's the end of Valgthoth?"

Guide: "The end? Oh no, definitely not. Chaos can only ever be postponed. But it's where our dealing with him ends, yes. But before you go, I have one final warning."

HGJ: "What is it?"

Guide: "There is something coming. Something evil stalks the astral planes. Unlike Valgthoth this force is malicious and intelligent. Beware the King of Worms, for he comes for you both. A reckoning long overdue awaits you. I'm sorry I cant be more specific that's all I can see."

PGL: "Most ominous."

HGJ: "Goodbye, Howard. Safe travels."

Guide: "You too, Henry. And to you, George."

*The portal hums with energy as the pair traverse it's threshold, with young Howard in Jago's arms."

HGJ: "We're back then. All present and accounted for?"

PGL: "Seems to be. Now, to burn that book, once and for all."

Grandfather: "My head... You there, can someone tell me what's going on? I... can't seem to remember..."

HGJ: "Ah, you're awake. Good."

Grandfather: "Who... why... Hold on. You'd better have a damn good reason as to why you're holding my grandson. And what the devil happened to him?"

HGJ: "I can explain. Oh corks, can I? You see, the thing is..."

PGL: "Ah, good to see you up and about. My name is Professor George Litefoot, a police pathologist. It seems you and your family were the victims of a rather violent mugger. There was an altercation which resulted in you, your daughter and grandson being rendered unconscious, which may account for any hazy memories."

Grandfather: "What?"

PGL: "You're undoubtedly confused by the whole ordeal. However, I can assure you that there will be no lasting damage to any of your family members. A flood nights rest should see you right as rain."

Grandfather: "What about compensation? We come to your country and get taken prisoner by some street thug?"

HGJ: "Allow me to help with that, sir. Inspector Quick, of Scotland Yard. This isn't exactly protocol, but given your status as tourists to our fine country, an exception can be made. The vagabond ran a bookshop, presumably as a front for his criminal dealings. Now, money in his safe is technically evidence, but I'm sure a few pounds could be overlooked. To cover your incurred expenses, travel and accommodation. Things of that nature."

Grandfather: "It'll do, I suppose. Now give me the child, I need to tend to my family."

HGJ: "Of course sir."

PGL: "*aside* That was some quick improvisation, Inspector."

HGJ: "*aside* First thing I could think of."

PGL: *aside* At least Howard is back where he belongs. They'll be OK. We know so, we've met his future self."

HGJ: "*aside* Still gives me a headache, trying to wrap my head around it."

PGL: "*aside* Never mind. Let's just see to it that these lot get on their way, then we can have a nice, relaxing drink at the Red Tavern."

HGJ: "And what of Howard's warning? This King of Worms?"

PGL: "A problem for another day, Henry."