Inspired by G... so blame her!

THE TELLING STONE

Attention Dr. H. Anders, Professor of Ancient Studies, Miskatonic University;

The following journal fragments were discovered frozen in ice by a British research team in an undisclosed portion of the antarctic. They were emailed to our anthropology department on August 21, 2008. Regrettably, this is the last contact we received from them. Any information you may be able to provide on the "Telling Stone" mentioned would be greatly appreciated.

Dr. L. D. Smythe, Oxford University



November 17, 1934

My colleges and I from Miskatonic University have been crossing the barren wastes of the Antarctic for 16 days now following the clues left on the artifact that Fallons has nick-named the "Telling Stone". It appears to illustrate several dinosaur-like creature. Curiously some of these creatures appear to be using tools of sorts. What amazed the board at the university most however, was that the tablet, which appears to be genuine, is less than 100 years old! At first we assumed fraud, however given his relationship with the President's wife Fallons was able to arrange a grant to travel to the coordinates encoded in the tablet. I occurs to me that if this tablet is genuine then perhaps we will have to recon...

November 22, 1934

The cold is unbearable! We are nearly out of provisions and still Fallons urges us forward! We are all exhausted and prepared to turn back, all except Fallons who seems possessed of a supra-human endurance. Its as though the search for this lost civilization he has been raving about the last few days has consumed his mind! We have been discussing the idea of leaving Fallons behind and returning to the camp but whenever we are prepared to the winds seem to pick up and force us to seek shelter. Its as if some unholy...

November 27, 1934

My god, Fallons was right. We only followed him into the caves to escape the storm. Such a strange storm... it began with a phenomena much like the Aurora Borealis (though I was unaware such light phenomena occurred in the antarctic), and them a strange wind that sounded like the cries of a thousand tortured souls crying out from hell began to whip around us. Fallons found the cave and called us in. The system seemed to cut through the ice for miles as we followed it, and the warm breeze that came up through it. Then after what seemed hours we broke through into light. As bright as day and as warm any any summer I spent in California. The valley below is filled with a lush jungle teaming with life. We have stopped for a rest but Fallons is nearly frothing at the mouth and pacing back and forth without cessation. He is telling us that we must travel into the jungle and seek the inhabitants. I have no idea how he could know there is anyone living within this jungle. Again I fear madness has over taken poor Fallons. His nightly rantings have grown worse as well. He speaks of "the returning masters of the Earth". The poor man has obviously lost all grip on sanity... however, here we stand. I am..

November 30?, 1934

Little has changed since my last entry. We are still held captive by the strange lizard-like peoples of this hidden valley. One by one they have taken us. Only myself and one of the Eskimo we brought with us remains. Poor uncivilised fellow's mind will broke yesterday. He ate the fruit the creatures provide us with everyday and he fell prey to its hallucinogenic effect just like the others did. The result was also the same, raving madness. He speaks in broken English of the coming of the Dominion. I have no idea if he refers to his native Canada or perhaps some other part of the British Commonwealth. Perhaps it is just fevered delusion. I hear them coming for him now, he must have begun the regression as the others did. I have no doubt if I were to look into the shadowed corner where he now sits I would see the scales pushing through his flesh toward the surface. I despise myself for being relieved they will take him, but the screams and the raving, combined with my gnawing hunger, are beginning to push...

Date Unknown

I'm nearly at the surface. The escape was perhaps not as complete as I had hoped though. The dart that hit me as I ran was poisoned I believe. It smells of the regressing fruit. I have a fever and am finding it difficult to concentrate. Voices are getting loud. Not outside but in. Buzzing. He knows me now. Somehow I know him. Must run. Warn the surface. Like I'm drowning...



Ichto, ichto! Yig sithran!