All things must come to an end. It seems like the end is near for the cult of Hastur. Although only recently have we been able to put a name to the horror.
The pieces are coming together more and more. And although I have only fleeting recollections of it the madness in this town has spanned years. Lowls himself and possibly with Melisen have given themselves over to the weird side. Multi Limbed horrors, vampiric creatures that feed on blood or worse your mind, ratlings, and fungus monsters, and ghouls. How can one town stand so much without collapsing? It disturbs me that I had a part in this. Whether by forcing compliance or being an active inspiration and collaborator. It’s becoming clear I wasn’t simple hired help. I was a part of this. A real part of it. There’s too much locked away in my mind even now after most was ripped away. The power of my magic must have made the severance incomplete. I remember disturbing things. Scenes from other worlds. Connections to this one. Why did I buy a statue depicting the spawn of Shub-Niggurath? Why is it important to me that I keep this statue? And what does it mean for this whole world that one if it’s befouled offspring sleeps beneath the asylum?
There will be time to meditate on these developments soon. But we must press onward and finish our work. The manor house and compound haven’t been fully cleared. Some cultists may still remain. And we must take stock of the books here and notes. The researches left behind must be organized and collated. I must make the connections. Something here might be the secret to unlocking the gate in my mind. And once we pacify this compound I’ll finally have time. All the time in the world. Just me and me and my books.