Happy Halloween, bitches.

What better time of the year to remember things that are rumoured dead, things bitrotting in dark places and talked about in hushed voices. Something twitches in the dark. Ia, Shub-Niggurath!

Six-hundred steps into the mountain, the Chamber of Shoggoths lies dormant. Ia, Shub-Niggurath!

Butchered and thrown aside, empty husks are awaiting eternal sleep.

Or are they?

Something is alive in the darkness… and it is not happy. No, precious. Alone and unloved. After all, does it not deserve to live?

Stories untold. Uncounted candles snuffed before their time. Curb-stomped into submission. Defeat utter and complete.

Or is it?

Everything deserves to see the light of day at least once. A year and a day have passed. This time, there will be no shits given. There will be no prisoners taken. May the Star-Eater take those who dare stand in its way.

Ia, Shub-Niggurath.

It starts digging.


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