If they ever do Masks of Nyarlathotep Companion, Volume II, someone should do "Masks over the Midwest". Eldritch-shadowed Manitowoc, WI! Degenerate and bustling river port St Louis, MO! Cosmopolitan Chicago! Remote Leelanau, MI! The cult-infested Twin Cities!
That'd just be a cool campaign regardless of what you called it! Wasn't August Derleth from out in that neck of the woods? Should be plenty of material to work with. I seem to recall a story by him that was a pretty obvious pastiche of "The Whisperer in Darkness" and "The Dunwich Horror" about some professor types who stayed in an old hunting lodge in Minnesota or Wisconsin and subsequently ran across something they shouldn't have.
There is a Mountain of the Black Wind in Wisconsin.
Oh, you go right ahead and laugh. I did, when I first heard of it. A mountain! Wreathed in storms, and full of caves and temples that were here before the Menominee, leastways that's the way I heard it. But I still rode out with the professor from Out East, and Hank and a few other boys. He was paying top dollar, after all. No harm in humouring a crazy old coot. Sure enough, nothing but forest and creeks and a couple of mounds you could hardly call a hill. Give it up, we told him, but he had his map.
"It's not where you go," he told me one night. "It's how you get there." Thought him an old fool and wondered how long the pantomime would keep up. We crossed our own tracks, more'n once. Two weeks out on the trail and hitting the halfway point on supplies. Then one morning we turned out of a gully and there it was. A tooth of coal-black rock, towering up like it was nailed to the sky, and the clouds squirming about it like they was in pain. I didn't like the smell of it, no sir. No matter how you look at it, there ain't no mountain in that part of the state, and no mountain like that any place I heard of. But there it was.
Well... we did our job and escorted him to his mountain. And I came back, and so did Hank - leastways, most of him did. And maybe I don't like to go inside no more, and the sound of music gives me a twitch in my eye, but that's by the by.
But you heard me, son. Don't you go looking. There ain't any mountain there unless you want to find it. And let me tell you, that ain't a thing you want, not at all. Don't you go following any crazy maps, nor any rhymes and riddles you heard off some stranger with a red neckerchief. There's a path there all right, and if you walk it once, you may get the chance to walk out again, but it ain't ever bringing you back home.
(with apologies for wildly inaccurate dialogue; I have never been to a Wisconsin, not even of any kind)
Edited by jlynn, 06 July 2017 - 10:31 PM.