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    • TwotwelveAM
      The moon has always cast a shadow on this place. Through this filthy, four-paned, window behind which you've sat so many times before, alone. Always alone. Even now you sit, darkness surrounding you, the pale lunar luminescence casting a pallid demeanor on the empty parchment before you.   To whom shall you write of your recent experiences?  Who would believe the things you've seen? Who would care? Who should care?   Perhaps it is better to abandon the subject, to leave this decaying house on the borderlands, to let it fester in its own rot. The cold sea winds blowing seem intent on shattering your will to stay. You look through the glass, past the gibbering and howling gusts, at the bloated and gibbous shape hanging distant in the sky. There seems to be so little light left for you. Perhaps, there's enough to write what you've learned...   Yet, if you were to leave, if you were to forego what you've learned, what you've seen, if you were to embrace ignorance of the realities presented here, who knows how long you would have before the terrors you've experienced catch up with you? Bliss, there, you suppose, for a time. Bliss in looking the other way, in keeping the secret of the dark to yourself. But isn't what what it wants?   With an unsteady hand, and an uncertain recipient, you pick up the pen on your writing desk, a desk sheltered, for a time, from the wind, and the dark, and upon which, even now, the moon looks down upon, a hideous and mocking grin wrought upon its face, and you begin to write.    ----   Let us, you and I, in the epistolary fashion, craft a weird fiction. Let us do so in the cold and dark parts of the year, when the shadows grow long, and the nights of Netflix and instantly streamable garbage grow boring.   Let us do so in the form of physical letters as lain out by the game De Profundis. A simple search will allow you the opportunity to both purchase and read the game, though you don't necessarily need to have a copy in order to participate.   I'm looking for two or three people, regardless of location, who wish to embark upon an eldritch journey of the mind. Who wish to experience an otherworldly fascination with receiving and sending hand-written, typed, illustrated, perhaps even branded, correspondence, and sharing in an unfolding story of which none of us (our characters) may ever really escape.    The requirements would be simple - commit to writing letters and finishing the story that, once started, will likely take a matter of months to see to its end. The goal would be to complete the game in approximately 5-6 letters. That is merely a guide, of course, since if the game is truly interesting, and the players are interested, it could stretch out to a few more.   Once the group has been established I will write the initial letter from my character to yours, and things will then be underway.    Interested players should post here or send me a PM, and share how your character may relate to George Hankerton, who is included in the Game Setting information, below.    Summary Outline for Interested Parties Looking for 2-3 players for a single game. Post here or PM if interested with a few sentences why. Goal to complete game in 5-6 letters, in 6-8 months of time.     Game Setting January 1923 George Hankerton, a young banker from Ohio, has recently moved to the rural town of Bluestem, Montana. Why he's moved there and what he's been experiencing will be revealed to the recipients of his letters, whom will also experience their own strange happenings. Locations of the recipients may be anywhere, based on the interest of those writers.  Our Society will be a group of people who know/knew George; teachers, friends, enemies, coworkers, etc. Our Society goal will be provided to the recipients in the initial letters. The theme and style will be a low to medium level Cthulhu mythos game. In terms of comparison think 'The Lurking Fear', or 'The Whisperer in Darkness', though only in terms of mounting horror.     So, if you find that there is something fumbling and rattling at the latch of your creative interests, look no further, George may need some advice and assistance.  
    • Bishop
      Are the children kidnapped locally or from large towns or cities?  I imagine any missing children reports in Arkham would be noticeable, even if they were transient or immigrant.
    • TwotwelveAM
      To whomever may find this post,   It is with a certain hesitation that I put these trembling words to screen, fearing what I may and suffering trepidation of such a caliber, yet hoping (dare I venture such a thing) this message finds a welcome place in this void of chaos.   I come to this dark place, this bastion of madness, for wisdom, lore, and answers, richly collected and stored for the inquisitive scholar of archaic and strange realms. Even so, should I bravely and boldly speak of such a thing, I also seek camaraderie, perhaps a foolish thought, in this ever deepening vast and starless chasm; friends, acquaintances, peers, with which to quest for realities beyond our own.   So, to place a bookend on this, my initial scrawl upon these hallowed walls, I humbly bow to those who have lain here for leagues of endless time, the architects too, and to those, like myself, who have but stolen a glance through the crooked door which now stands ajar, and introduce myself.   What a kingdom of resource; what a land of lunacy; what a varied palace of bold pallor! I shall be pleased to call it home for a little while. 
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